L I B RAR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 a^3 
 
 V.I
 
 NEW AND POPULAK NOVELS. 
 
 In 3 Vols. Price 31s. 6d. 
 
 PIEM IN THE STEUGGLE. 
 
 By EilMA PICKERING, 
 Author of " Forsaking All Others." 
 
 " The story is extremely interesting, and never flags for a single 
 page. We scarcely know a fiction of modern times in which the 
 characters are equally well sketched and sustained. Many of the 
 descriptions of country life and country scenery are quite equal to 
 those so admirably depicted in ' Adam Bede.' — Dciily Guardmn. 
 
 " The Author rises into the higher regions of literary lore."— ^eZf* 
 Messenger. 
 
 *' This novel is fair and fresh as 3Iay flowers, and deserves for its 
 ability of treatment and purity of tone the highest praise." — Drat/:ing- 
 room Gazette. 
 
 ''Miss Pickering has taken for her mo lei Miss Bumey, Miss Mit- 
 ford, and Miss Austen." — Brighton Exarainer. 
 
 In 3 Vols. Price 31s. 6d. 
 
 EOBEET BLAKE OF EINGWOOD. 
 
 From the Times, January 8th, 1872. 
 
 *' It commands the respect due to a pure and wholesome tone of 
 thought, and seeks to interest us by legitimate delineation of 
 character, rather tuan to thrill us by the startling turn of an ingeni- 
 ous plot. It neither demoralizes our moral nor bewilders our mental 
 faculties." 
 
 In 3 Vols. 
 
 LANGLET MANGE. 
 
 By MPS. C. J. XEWBT, 
 
 Author of '* Wondrous Strange," "Kate Kennedy," "Common 
 
 Sense," &c., &c.
 
 —Railways, postages— in a word, all tlie numerous facilities of the 
 age— have almost annihilated distance, and, as a natural result, 
 caused an individual trade between country customers and London 
 establishments. Those who do not visit town, so as to select and 
 purchase directly, send for patterns from which they can give their 
 orders. But as all apparent advantages on the one hand have more 
 or less their corresponding drawbacks, so this system is not without 
 its bane. Pushing tradesmen make a market by offering goods at 
 lower rates than they can possibly be sold at to realise a fair profit. 
 The bait traps the unreflective, and the result is that the receipts en 
 masse are not equal to the tempting samples. There is no new inven- 
 tion in this ; it has been practised in wholesale merchandise and by 
 candidates for contracts, as the proverb hath it, since there were hills 
 and valleys. But we grieve to add it is sometimes resorted to by 
 those whom one would credit for more integrity. Ladies, therefore, 
 need exercise caution, and place confidence only in houses of old- 
 established fame, for rapidly-made businesses are not generally reli- 
 able. And to what does this assertion amount more than to the fact 
 that nothing great can be effected not only without labour but with- 
 out time, and that Rome was not built, as the old saying says, in a 
 day ? Messrs. Jay, of Eegeut-street, whose name is well known 
 amongst the few on the Lst of tond fide establishments in the metro- 
 polis, have adopted a plan for assisting country ladies in choosing 
 for themselves London fashions and fabrics And their customers may 
 rest assured that they will thus be enabled to obtain goods of every 
 quality, both low and high priced, at the most reasonable terms — 
 that is, the terms of small profits for quick returns — and that they 
 may firmly rely upon the thoroughly corresponding character of 
 samples and supplies. — From tlie Court Journal.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 IK THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 BY 
 
 J. PANTON HAM 
 
 " My project may deceive me, 
 But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me." 
 
 All's Well that Ends Well. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LoxDOX : 
 T. CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 
 
 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. 
 
 1872. 
 
 [ALL EIGHTS RESERVED.]
 
 v./ 
 
 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 X 
 OS. 
 
 S 
 
 C4 
 
 ^ CHAPTER I. 
 
 AGAINST THE GRAIN". 
 
 ^' Oh, Claude, this one is a clever sketcli ; I'm 
 4^ sure it's a portrait, it has all the look of one ; 
 but surely something of a caricature. Who 
 ^ is it meant for ?" 
 
 ^ " That fellow is one of the proctors, a very 
 o ferret, thoroughly hated by all the fellows. 
 
 7 Ko, it's not a caricature — not in the least ex- 
 - aggerated, I assure you, Polly." 
 ^ Claude Threlfall had just returned from 
 
 ' Cambrido^e, and was showingr the contents of 
 
 (S= 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Z THE BEIDAL BAE, 
 
 Ms portfolio of water-colour sketches to his 
 cousin Mary and sister Julia. Mary Threl- 
 fall was examining one after the other with 
 the intensest interest, and laughing merrily at 
 the facetious humour exhibited in some of 
 these personal reminiscences. Julia, although 
 she could not restrain an occasional smile, 
 looked on in silence, and with an expression 
 of face indicative of serious concern. 
 
 " Really, Claude," exclaimed Mary, taking 
 up a more finished drawing of some university 
 celebrity, " this is positively clever — it's ad- 
 mirable ! How you have improved lately. I 
 couldn't have thought you capable of doing 
 anything like this. And, pray, who is it 
 meant for ?" 
 
 "That's the Eev. Dr. , Master of 
 
 95 
 
 " Good gracious, Claude !" shouted Mary 
 again, "and what in the ^ world are all these 
 fellows about ? Something droll, I see ; but 
 what does it all mean ?" 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed her cousin, " I really
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 6 
 
 didn't know that tliins^ was amonsr the 
 sketches," and he snatched it from Mary's 
 hand, rolled it up, and thrust it into his coat 
 pocket. 
 
 Mary's curiosity was the more excited, and 
 she expostulated with her cousin for his rude- 
 ness in snatching it away. 
 
 "What are they all about, Claude?" she 
 asked again. 
 
 " Oh, you won't understand it if I tell you. 
 I did it for one of the fellows, and thought I 
 had given it to him. Just a practical joke 
 which some of us played on a sneaking fellow, 
 that's all." 
 
 " Xow, do let me look at it again." 
 
 " Xo, no ; it's not worth looking at, and 
 you really won't understand it." 
 
 " I won't be put off so, Claude ; I will see 
 it. Why can't I understand it ?" 
 
 " Ladies never amuse themselves in that 
 kind of way. You won't see any fun in it. 
 There, don't bother any more about the stupid 
 thing. I ought to have left it behind me." 
 
 B 2
 
 4 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 Mary was not at all satisfied with these 
 replies, and continued coaxing her cousin to 
 let her see the sketch. 
 
 Claude, in the hope of diverting her atten- 
 tion, turned towards his sister, and said, 
 
 " The sketches don't seem to interest you, 
 Julia, as much as Mary." 
 
 " I like to look at them, Claude ; but what 
 a large number of them you have." 
 
 " Oh, I've given as many away as I have 
 here." 
 
 Julia looked very thoughtful. 
 
 " I see," said Mary, " Julia thinks you 
 might have reserved some for us." 
 
 "You may both of you take as many as 
 you like of these," returned Claude. 
 
 " I was not thinking that," explained Julia. 
 " I was thinking what uncle will say when he 
 sees all these drawings. You know, Claude, 
 he would be very angry if he knew that you 
 had been painting so much. You must re- 
 collect what he told you before you left us at 
 the beginning of the term."
 
 THE BRIDAL BAR. 5 
 
 " Yes, jes, I recollect all about tliat ; and 
 shouldn't have brought out mj sketches, of 
 course not, if he had been at home ; but he 
 can't be down from London for an hour at 
 the earliest, and I knew you and Marj would 
 be amused by just looking them over." 
 
 " I do so want to look again at that one in 
 your pocket, Claude," said Mary, with playful 
 persistency. " I was so struck with the 
 number of the figures, and their great variety 
 of attitudes. No posture of the human form 
 seems impossible to your clever pencil. In- 
 deed, I'm not at all curious about the subject 
 of the picture. It's the artistic skill that in- 
 terests me." 
 
 " Here's another," said he, turning over 
 the drawings, and spreading them about the 
 table in search of the one he wanted ; " here 
 it is. If you want quantity, you may count 
 some fifteen fellows there." 
 
 ** "Whiy," shouted Mary, '' that central figure 
 is yourself, Claude. What a capital likeness ! 
 What are they all about ?"
 
 6 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " Well, that's a scene in my room. The 
 picture is historical, and represents the forma- 
 tion of the literary staff of a new serio-comic 
 weekly journal . That fellow sitting down 
 has just been appointed editor, and I have 
 been elected artist to illustrate the letter- 
 press, or rather the pen and ink contribu- 
 tions." 
 
 " What an interesting picture, Claude," 
 said Mary, with a look of admiration. " May 
 I have it ?" 
 
 " Yes, certainly ; but I can't spare it yet, 
 as I have engaged to make a large copy of it. 
 They are all likenesses, and I hope to finish 
 it during next term." 
 
 " But, dear Claude," said Julia, " you must 
 be doing nothing else at Cambridge but sketch- 
 ing and painting." 
 
 " ISTot much else, I confess," replied her 
 brother, with a smile of self complacence ; 
 " the fact is, I can't for the life of me give 
 myself to reading. I shall never take my de- 
 gree, that's certain."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 7 
 
 " Not take your degree, Claude ! Haven't 
 you taken your degree, then?" 
 
 '' Xo, not I," 
 
 '' But uncle quite expects you liave. I do 
 so dread his hearing of it." 
 
 " Oh ! he knows it ; I wi'ote to tell him I 
 was plucked. I shall go back again you 
 know." 
 
 *•' But not to work, Claude ?" 
 
 " Xot to work ! Indeed I shall work. I 
 intend to begin that picture in earnest, and 
 shall have it done before I return ag^ain to 
 "Walmer." 
 
 '' You make me very anxious, Claude," re- 
 plied his sister. " Do leave the picture, and 
 read hard for your degree. Uncle will be so 
 pleased, and you can amuse yourself with the 
 picture at some future time." 
 
 "Impossible, Juhe; all these fellows are 
 portraits, and I must execute the work while 
 I am with the originals. Every fellow will 
 have to give me two or three sittings." 
 
 " Of course," struck in ]\Iary.
 
 8 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 " But uncle did not send you to Cambridge 
 to paint, you know, Claude, and if lie hears 
 how you have been engaged he will be dread- 
 fully provoked with you." 
 
 "He'll know nothing about it." 
 
 " But you will come home again without 
 your degree." 
 
 " ! lots of fellows are plucked, and lots 
 never think of taking their degree at all. Don' b 
 bother me, Julie, any more about that con- 
 founded degree." 
 
 Julia said no more, but sat looking at her 
 brother and cousin, who were quite absorbed 
 in the sketches, and every now and then in- 
 dulging in bursts of merriment over some 
 humorous drawing, while Claude was elu- 
 cidating the character or incident. 
 
 Julia could not at last resist the contagion 
 of their laughter, and gradually became as 
 much interested in the sketches as they. All 
 had their heads together, as they bent over 
 one comical sketch, talking and laughing 
 boisterously, when the door opened, and to
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. \) 
 
 the amazement and confusion of eacli, in 
 walked Uncle Threlfall, wlio had just arrivod 
 from Dover. 
 
 " Well, Claude, you're here before me. 
 How are you, my boy, how are you ?" 
 
 Claude responded to the cordial greeting of 
 his uncle, who stood just inside the doorway, 
 wrapt up in his travelling coat and warm 
 cravat, for it was a sharp frosty night in De- 
 cember. He had his uncle's hand, shakino- it 
 heartily before he had taken three steps into 
 the room. 
 
 Mary and Julia were at the side of Claude, 
 anxious to prevent any further advance into 
 the drawing room, the latter betraying more 
 confusion than her cousin Mary, who was 
 most assiduous in her attentions to her father, 
 in her anxiety to get him out of the room. 
 
 " TVhat are you about, girls ?" said the old 
 gentleman, advancing another step forward, 
 and staring at the table covered with the draw- 
 ings, which, without his spectacles, were not 
 
 B 5
 
 10 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 clearly discernible. "What were you so 
 merry about over those papers ?" 
 
 " Some of my College exercises, sir," 
 replied Claude, promptly, " a few mathe- 
 matical diagrams, sir, that's all." 
 
 " That's all, papa," echoed Mary ; " but 
 how cold you must be. Do come into the 
 dining room, there's a beautiful fire there ; 
 come along, come along." 
 
 "You must want refreshment, uncle," 
 added Julia, who was quite as eager as her 
 cousin to get her uncle out of the room. 
 
 "What's the fun, girls?" asked the pro- 
 voking old gentleman. " Let me see the fun," 
 and he tried again to advance, peering in- 
 quisitively at the papers. "Why they are 
 coloured like an architect's ground plans and 
 elevations." 
 
 " Never mind those diagrams now, papa ; 
 come into the warm dining room and have 
 something to eat," and she and Claude bustled 
 the persistent gentleman to the door.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 11 
 
 " Let me take off your cravat and coat, sir," 
 said Claude, tugging at the arm nearest the 
 door, Tvith an energy that fairly jDuUed Mr. 
 Thi^elfall out of the room. 
 
 " G-ently, gently, Claude ; not so rough, 
 my boy." 
 
 Claude pidled to the door after them, and 
 Juha took the opportunity Tvith this hint to 
 gather up all the sketches and replace them 
 in the portfolio, and, when her uncle was 
 safely secured in the dining room, hurried up 
 stands and deposited the dangerous treasure 
 in her own room. 
 
 It was a narrow escape, and Julia had 
 scarcely recovered her composure when she 
 returned to the dining room. Mr. Threlfall, 
 who was now seated in his arm chair by the 
 bright warm fire, was enjoying the exhilarating 
 heat and rubbing his cold hands. 
 
 " Laughing over mathematical figures, eh ?" 
 he said, as he bent forward extending his out- 
 stretched palms to the fire. '' I didn't know
 
 12 THE BEIDAL BAE. ! 
 
 mathematics were a laugMng matter to you 
 Cambridge men, Claude." 
 
 "Well, no, uncle, not exactly a laugMng 
 matter, certainly. Some fellows liate tliem 
 cordially. As Byron says — 
 
 " ' They stare not on tlie stars from out their attics, 
 Nor deal (thank God for that !) in mathematics.' " 
 
 " What do you want with paints, Claude ? 
 I hate paints." 
 
 " Oh ! we sometimes paint, you know, 
 geometrical figures." 
 
 " Do you though ? But what were you all 
 laughing at so merrily in those geometrical 
 figures ? Let me share the fun." 
 
 Mary looked towards Claude, wondering 
 what he would say, yet with no very great 
 concern in her face, as if she had full confidence 
 in the readiness of her cousin's resources. 
 Julia's brow was clouded, as if she dreaded 
 the discovery after all. Claude, affecting a 
 lively interest in his uncle's question, replied 
 by another.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 13 
 
 " You of course know sometliing of geome- 
 try, uncle ?" 
 
 " ^o, I'm sorry to saj I don't, Claude. I 
 never learnt mathematics when I was at school. 
 I left school when I was foui^teen ; it was the 
 fashion in my young days to send boys to 
 business at that early age." 
 
 " Then you'll scarcely see the joke, uncle, 
 that amused us. Greometers say, you know, 
 ' ex ceqiiali in proportione perturhata sen in- 
 ordinata^ a term employed when the first 
 magnitude is to the second of the first rank, 
 as the last but one is to the last of the second 
 rank ; and as the second is to the thu^l of the 
 first rank, so is the last but two to the last 
 but one of the second rank ; and as the third 
 is to the fourth of the first rank, so is the thkd 
 from the last to the last but two of the second 
 rank, and so on in cross order ; and the in- 
 ference — " 
 
 " That will do, Claude, I don't understand 
 a word of what you are talking about ; it seems 
 to me the veriest gibberish."
 
 14 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 Both the girls, who sat staring at the cool 
 impudence of Claude, as he rattled off this 
 20th deJSnition of the 5th book of Euclid, 
 which he had by heart, fairly exploded, and 
 the uncle now joined them as Claude gravely 
 offered to demonstrate this definition by a 
 theorem. 
 
 " No, thank you, Claude, it's all Greek to 
 me, of which I know as much as of Geometry. 
 So that was the fun, eh ? Well, it does sound 
 very like a joke, Claude. So that's Geometry, 
 eh ? How you get it into your head I can't 
 tell; and when you've^ got it, what's the use 
 of it, eh ?" 
 
 " It's precious hard work, I can tell you, 
 uncle, to cram all the definitions, postulates, 
 axioms, problems, theorems, and corollaries of 
 the six books of Euclid. You get horribly 
 confused with permutandos, invertendos, com- 
 ponendos, dividendos, and convertendos. Do 
 you know I broke down in these confounded 
 mathematics. What would you make of this 
 theorem, uncle? If several ratios be the
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 15 
 
 same witli several ratios, each to each, the 
 ratio T\'hich is compounded of ratios which 
 are the same vrith the first ratios, each to each, 
 is the same with the ratio compounded of 
 ratios which are the same with the other 
 ratios, each to each ?" 
 
 "Make of it," exclaimed Mr. Threlfall, " I 
 can't make head or tail of it. It's as con- 
 founding as if jou were to ask me what rela- 
 tion I am to my father's second cousin's great 
 uncle's wife's eldest daughter's grandmother's 
 niece." 
 
 "Well, you can't wonder that I've been 
 plucked at mathematics, uncle. But I'll try 
 again if you like ; of course my wish is to 
 please you in the matter. I ought to have 
 gone to Oxford, uncle; I should have done 
 better at classics." 
 
 " Say no more about the degree, my boy. 
 I confess I was vexed when I heard you were 
 plucked. But if you can't get a degree with- 
 out cramming your head with all that farrago
 
 16 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 give it up, give it up, Claude. You'll only 
 muddle your brains for no practical end. I'm 
 quite decided now. You shall not go back to 
 Cambridge." 
 
 "]^ot go back to Cambridge, sir !" exclaimed 
 Claude, wondering what scheme his uncle was 
 concocting for the future. 
 
 " 1^0, it's time you were doing something 
 to some purpose. I've had some talk with 
 Paget ; he and I travelled together to Dover. 
 He quite agrees with me that you ought to 
 read for the Bar. I intend you to be a bar- 
 rister, Claude. It will be five years before 
 you are called, as you have not taken your 
 degree, and so there's no time to be lost." 
 
 Claude was not at all prepared for this 
 sudden termination of his university career. 
 At Cambridge he had found ample time to 
 prosecute his favourite study, and now as he 
 had got something like a sanction to be idle, 
 the temptation was very strong to get back to 
 his university.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 17 
 
 " I should like another year at Cambridge, 
 sir," lie said, "just to read up my logic. 
 Logic is very useful to a barrister, sir." 
 
 " 'No, you must not go back to Cambridge, 
 Claude; that's settled. Paget's son is going 
 to the Bar, and is already a student of the 
 Inner Temple. He was at Oxford, and is an 
 M.A., so that he will be called in less than 
 three years. You don't know him, but you 
 will have an opportunity of making his ac- 
 quaintance in London. He's a hard-working, 
 clever felow, is young Hawley Paget, and will 
 make his way at the Bar. l^ow my plan is 
 that you go after Christmas to London, and 
 begin your legal studies forthwith. I shall 
 allow you £300 a-year, till you can make your 
 own way in your profession. Mind, I expect 
 you to make that sum do for all your expen- 
 ses. ISTo getting into debt, understand that, 
 distinctly ; and don't forget what I have im- 
 pressed on you, that you never touch the 
 painting brush. If you were a painter, 
 Claude, though I love you as my own son, I
 
 18 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 would leave you to sMft for yourself, and I 
 wouldn't leave you a shilling in my will. I 
 know your predilection that way, but I won't 
 liave it. Your father made a pretty mess of 
 his painting. You quite understand that, I 
 know. I have chalked out your career for 
 you. You are to be a barrister, and I'll not 
 grudge a few thousands to help you after- 
 wards into the House. You must be an M.P. 
 I once thought of going into Parliament my- 
 self. But you'll make a better figure there. 
 Get your silk gown, my boy, and who knows 
 but you may become Solicitor or Attorney 
 General, or rise to the Bench. You have 
 talents, Claude, and if money can help you, 
 I'll back you to any reasonable extent. Now, 
 what do you say ?" 
 
 Claude knew that what his uncle had set 
 his heart upon was not to be resisted, and 
 therefore he at once assented. The prospect 
 of five years independence in London was 
 pleasant enough, and as he knew that he 
 should have little else to do to qualify himself
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 19 
 
 for the English Bar than to keep his terms at 
 his Inn, and eat his commons, he saw at once 
 that the change was for the better. In Lon- 
 don he would have splendid opportunities of 
 indulg^ino: his bias. What mio^ht he not do in 
 five years ? He would attend the Academy, 
 and by the end of that time might be far on 
 the road to the attainment of his highest 
 ambition — a recognized place among the great 
 living masters of his art ! He closed at once 
 and heartily with his uncle's offer, and went 
 to bed that night in high spirits, with his head 
 full of plans for the future. Julia came into 
 his room just to whisper that his portfoHo was 
 quite safe in her custody, and Mary could not 
 retire for the night before she had congratu- 
 lated Claude on his ingenious escape from the 
 dilemma about the sketches. 
 
 " What rubbish you did talk, Claude," said 
 Mary, as she bade him good-night, " about 
 geometry. Poor papa has been made quite 
 a fool of to-night." 
 
 " Not a bit of itj Polly, darling. I learnt
 
 20 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 all that out of some fellow's Euclid. It was 
 a tappy thought; I knew it would dumb- 
 found uncle, and excuse me my plucking." 
 
 "So you are going to be a barrister, Claude, 
 and an M.P. ?" 
 
 " Yes, both, my pet ; — a barrister for certain, 
 and a Magister Pictorum if possible." 
 
 " You are a naughty fellow, Claude," and 
 Mary kissed her naughty cousin, and tripped 
 noiselessly to her own room.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE WEIGHT OF A BIAS. 
 
 Me. Thomas Theelfall had early discovered 
 in Ms nephew and foster-son that artistic bias 
 against which he had so resolutely set himself. 
 Claude, when quite a child, would sit for 
 hours together sketching every object that 
 interested him, and once was so successful as 
 to make a tolerably suggestive drawing of his 
 uncle as he sat fast asleep in his chair. He 
 soon, however, discovered that what was a 
 source of infinite enjoyment to himself was 
 frowned upon with disfavour by his uncle, and
 
 22 . THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 at last lie never ventured to be seen with 
 pencil and paper in Ms uncle's presence, whom 
 he avoided as much as he conveniently could, 
 and indulged his amusement on the sly. His 
 sister, but especially his cousin Mary, would 
 join him on these furtive occasions, and, as 
 such opportunities were precious, he learnt to 
 make good use of them, and gradually ac- 
 quired considerable skill in the delineation of 
 form. The products of his juvenile labours 
 were all carefully treasured by Mary, whose 
 love of art was quite as strong as that of her 
 cousin Claude, only her line was landscape 
 while his was figure drawing ; and the kindred 
 tastes of these two young folk brought them 
 constantly together, and intensified their 
 friendship for each other. Everything had to 
 be managed with the strictest attention to 
 secrecy ; and the scheming and manoeuvring 
 that were necessitated to enable them to in- 
 dulge their bent without interruption by 
 degrees made them both adepts in the arts of 
 deception. They would neither of them
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 23 
 
 scruple to tell the most impiident lies to escape 
 detection, and thus very early in life they 
 learnt the art of dissembling* to perfection. 
 Julia, who knew the necessity of privacy in 
 the pursuit of this unconquerable passion of 
 her brother's and cousin's, kept their secret, 
 but she was constitutionally a frank, truthful 
 child, and would blush deeply with a sense of 
 shame at the lying effi^ontery of her com- 
 panions' lips, and no less effrontery of false- 
 hood in their frequent assumption of hypo- 
 critical appearances. Uncle Threlfall watched 
 Claude, as he thought, with the eye of a lynx, 
 and congratulated himself, as time went on, 
 that he had been successful in rooting out a 
 passion which he considered it a parental duty 
 to destroy. 
 
 Mr. Threlfall' s hostility to his nephew's 
 predilection for art was not founded in any 
 constitutional antipathy to art itself, for he 
 was a lover of paintings, and considered him- 
 self a good judge of a picture. A wealthy 
 man, and living in some style in his hand-
 
 24 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 some house known as tlie Grange, lie had 
 purchased from time to time many pictures, 
 for some of which he had paid high prices, 
 and, consequently, his walls were as well 
 covered with this species of decorative furni- 
 ture as a gentleman's residence is usually ex- 
 pected to be. He had no objection even to 
 the society of artists at his own house; in- 
 deed, would have been glad to receive them to 
 display his technical learning in the mysteries 
 of their profession; but he denied himself this 
 pleasure, purely in consideration of his 
 nephew's welfare, whom he intended to guard 
 in every way from the seductions of an artistic 
 life, to which he knew that he was passionately 
 inclined. 
 
 Mr, Thomas Threlfall was a well-meaning, 
 kind-hearted man, but he was no philosopher, 
 and had no theory of education. His know- 
 ledge of human nature was very limited, 
 being circumscribed by his commercial ex- 
 perience during a long and successful career 
 as a merchant in Mark Lane. Every son he
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 25 
 
 considered ought to follow in his father's steps, 
 if his father had been commercially successful 
 in life, and ought most scrupulously to avoid 
 his parent's career if it had been a commercial 
 failure. He considered biasses mere wilful 
 obstinacies, and particular aptitudes mere 
 eccentricities and perversities. 
 
 I^ow Claude's father had made a miserable 
 failure ; he had lamentably broken down early 
 in life both in fortune and health, and he, Mr. 
 Thomas Threlfall, came to the not very logical 
 conclusion that if Claude started in the same 
 hue as his father, it would be infallibly fol- 
 lowed by the same deplorable results. For 
 many years he had retu^ed from business, and 
 had no longer any connection with the firm in 
 Mark Lane, or he would have unhesitatingly 
 placed Claude in the counting-house there, 
 and felt perfectly satisfied that he would do as 
 he himself had done, and somehow because he 
 had done it, that is to say, realize a large 
 fortune. His younger brother, the father of 
 Claude, had started with himself in the old 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 counting-liouse, but William Threlfall was an 
 artist by nature and inclination, or as his elder 
 brother would say, lie was eccentric and per- 
 verse, and lie had thrown up all his splendid 
 commercial prospects to follow the profession 
 he loved. He succeeded fairly, for he made 
 a living, and might have made a name for 
 himself and a fortune to boot ; but he fell in 
 love with a pretty-faced young actress who 
 was not faithful to him, and by the time she 
 had borne him two children, Claude and Julia, 
 he was overwhelmed with domestic calamity, 
 and died of a broken heart. Mrs. William 
 Threlfall, of bad reputation, had no resource 
 but to return to the stage ; and Mr. Thomas 
 Threlfall, being at that time childless, offered 
 to take the entire charge of the two children, 
 and to provide well for them, on the condition 
 that the mother would resign all parental 
 control over them, and withdraw herself from 
 the family connection. This was at once 
 assented to by Mrs. William Threlfall, who 
 was not unwilling to be rid of the burden of
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 27 
 
 providing for her cliildren, and to be again as 
 free as an unmarried woman. She pledged 
 her word that she would never see her children 
 more, and agreed, on the receipt of £100, to 
 go to America and trj her fortune in ISTew 
 York. ]\Ir. Threlf all took her passage for her, 
 and saw her leave Liverpool for her destina- 
 tion. The vessel in which she sailed never 
 reached its destination. A homew ard bound 
 ship had sighted, in mid- Atlantic, the burning 
 hull of a vessel, and had cruised about in 
 search of her boats, but had descried nothing. 
 Nothincr was ever afterwards heard of Mrs. 
 Wilham Threlfall, and it was concluded that 
 she had been one of the sufferers bj this ill- 
 fated catastrophe. 
 
 Kow, if uncle Threlfall had cultivated the 
 habit of reflection a little beyond the sphere 
 of his commercial circle and relations, if he 
 had looked a little more philosophically into 
 the constitution of his species, and marked the 
 variety of human tastes and proclivities, he 
 would have seen the absurdity, and even danger 
 
 c 2
 
 .28 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 of insisting on a practice which, if rigidly 
 followed in every instance, would be one of 
 the greatest calamities to the first-born in all 
 civilized commnnities, and a serious damage 
 to the well-being of society itself. It was 
 never suggested to him, in his unreasonable 
 hostility to his nephew's taste and inclination, 
 that he might be resisting one of the distinctest 
 voices of nature which was uttering itself so 
 ineffectually in his dull, deaf ear. And when 
 he shook his head in grave and pained dis- 
 pleasure at the discovery of his nephew's cool 
 impudence and hypocrisy, which he often had 
 occasion to do, he never dreamt that he had 
 himself to thank very largely for this sad 
 defect in Claude's character, who had been 
 driven by a natural and irresistible impulse to 
 act in a manner which was not necessarily 
 natural to him. The fine tone of his nephew's 
 moral feelings had been jarred by the discord 
 of his unfortunate circumstances. He was 
 denied what nature bade him so peremptorily 
 to claim, and as his artistic passion was strong,
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 29 
 
 even in his cliildhoodjwlieii his moral principles 
 were natnrallj feeble, the strong bias made 
 every pure moral feeling kick the beam, and 
 he grew up affectionate and generous, cer- 
 tainly, for he was constitutionally such, but 
 at the same time a keen-witted, crafty, plottino-, 
 unscrupulous fellow. To hoodwink and out- 
 manoeuvre his uncle, in this affair of his 
 profession, he regarded as thoroughly fair 
 play; and if lying and deception best served 
 his purpose, he had been so long trained in 
 these habits that they came quite natural to 
 him, and rarely gave him the least remorse, 
 or even the feeblest sense of moral uneasiness.
 
 30 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 UNCLE THRELFALL MORALIZES SAGELY, AND 
 COUNSELS DESPATCH. 
 
 At the time wlien our story begins Claude 
 had reached his twenty-second year, his sister 
 Julia was in her twenty-first year, and his 
 cousin Mary just nineteen. Claude was 
 neither dark nor fair; his complexion was 
 ruddy, and his head was ornamented with a 
 rich, curly crop of dark chestnut hair, which, 
 after the fashion of artists, he allowed to grow 
 very long. His features were handsome, and 
 he stood just five feet ten inches in height,
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 31 
 
 and possessed a well developed and rather 
 robust frame. Julia was in complexion and 
 features very like her brother, rather under 
 the medium height, plump and well formed, 
 and her calm, thoughtful face, very attractive 
 in repose, was peculiarly winning when hghted 
 up with any joyous emotions, and always 
 beamed with geniality and thorough good 
 nature. She had an innate love of truth, not 
 in the least ostentatious, but conspicuously 
 natural, and shrunk instinctively from every- 
 thing, whether in speech, demeanour, or 
 action, which was merely specious, and 
 seemed to lack the solidity of what was really 
 right and good. Her love of literature in- 
 clined her to studious habits, and she was 
 passionately fond of Shakespeare and all the 
 best dramatic writers, which she read repeat- 
 edly. In fact her tastes were decidedly his- 
 trionic, and her cultivated mind and refined 
 feelings would have fitted her, had her lot 
 been so cast, to take a respectable position in 
 the higher department of the mimic art. She 
 
 /
 
 32 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 read and recited admirably, and the evenings 
 at Walmer Grange were often passed most 
 agreeably in this way, her uncle enjoying the 
 entertainment she afforded, and betraying no 
 anxiety about her theatrical predilections, as 
 he intended to raise her above the necessity 
 of self-dependence by bequeathing her a hand- 
 some fortune. 
 
 Mary Threlfall was a little taller than her 
 cousin Julia, graceful in figure and of a san- 
 guine, excitable temperament. Her rich dark 
 complexion, adorned with a copious pro- 
 fusion of luxuriant hair inclining to black, 
 bright dark hazel eyes, which sparkled like 
 jewels in their animation, and looked at you 
 with an earnestness and a depth of penetra- 
 tion in the excitement of conversation, in- 
 vested her handsome face with a charm which 
 every one acknowledged and felt. Full of 
 vivacity, recklessly impulsive, she was often 
 betrayed into indiscretions of conduct, but 
 her excitable temperament was controlled so 
 effectually by a dominant goodness of heart
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 33 
 
 and generosity of disposition, and was withal 
 so buoyant in its gaiety, that she had seldom 
 to mourn over the effects of her loss of self- 
 command, and her companions were never at 
 any time embittered by the rampancy of her 
 indiscreet feelings. She loved her cousin 
 Claude with all the ardour of her strong: 
 womanly affections, and he returned her 
 passion with no less intensity. Their kindled 
 tastes and dispositions inclined them also to 
 a constant companionship, and at this period 
 they were pledged lovers, with the full sanc- 
 tion of Mr. Threlfall, who encouraged their 
 mutual attachment, and looked forward to 
 their happy union. 
 
 Julia and Mary, though differing widely in 
 some respects, were very much alike in dis- 
 position. Each loved the other with the 
 tenderness of sisterly affection, and Claude 
 was the idol of both. 
 
 After Claude's return home from Cam- 
 bridge, and while the weather was fine and 
 frosty, the open air attractions of riding and 
 
 5
 
 34 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 walking passed the days pleasantly enougli. 
 The Grange is about a mile and a half from 
 "Walmer, lying inward from the sea coast, and 
 in about a direct line with the Castle. The 
 country, though pretty, and the air bright 
 and bracing, is not remarkable for scenic 
 variety and picturesque beauty. Somewhat 
 closed in by well-grown trees and shrubberies, 
 and standing alone, with the nearest neigh- 
 bour a quarter of a mile distant, the Grange 
 would generally be thought a rather dull and 
 monotonous residence, but the present in- 
 mates had abundant resources in their special 
 tastes and employments, and, though they 
 rarely had any visits but an occasional one 
 from their friends the Pagets, who lived 
 several miles away, in a suburb of Dover, 
 they never complained of ennuiy and were 
 never tired of their seclusion. Mr. Threlfall 
 had a well-furnished general library, and of 
 late years had found abundant amusement in 
 biographical reading, with which he had a 
 considerable acquaintance. He delighted in
 
 THE BEIDAL EAE. 35 
 
 perusing tlie lives of successful men, and 
 would often entertain his family circle Tritli 
 reminiscences of interestino; incidents which 
 he had treasured up in his memory. He had 
 been a widower for many years, and all his 
 happiness centred in the three young people 
 whom he loved alike as his own children. 
 Although Claude could scarcely have been 
 dearer to him had he been his own son, yet 
 he had no idea of making a prosperous man 
 of him at the expense of his dauo-hter and 
 niece. For the glials he intended to make a 
 handsome provision, and Claude would come 
 in for a good share of his property ; but as 
 he himself had been in large measure the 
 builder of his own fortune, and admired all 
 men who had been similarly successful, he 
 wished Claude to rely chiefly on his own 
 abilities and energies, and, by his industry, 
 lay the foundation of his success in life. He 
 would certainly add something substantial in 
 the end, but his nephew, he was determined.
 
 36 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 should be a self-reliant man, and make, not 
 only a good start, but a good progress in tbe 
 race of life. 
 
 Cliristmas liad come and gone, and tbe 
 new year opened with a heavy fall of snow, 
 which continued for two or three days, and 
 all were enforced prisoners. Uncle Threlfall 
 was buried in a favourite biography — ^the life 
 of Sir William Blackstone ; Julia was deep 
 in some old dramatist ; Claude was in his . 
 own room; and Mary was preparing her 
 materials to go on with a water-colour 
 drawing. 
 
 " Polly, my dear," said the father, looking 
 round from the comfortable enclosure of his 
 high-backed easy chair, which, was turned 
 towards the blazing fire, " what, going to 
 paint? Don't paint, Polly; just oblige mo 
 by putting those things away while Claude is 
 at home. You understand me, dear. I don't 
 want Claude to have any temptation put in 
 his way. He has pretty well, by this time,
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 37 
 
 forgotten all about liis paints, I'm glad to 
 know. Xow, you'll oblige me, clarlingj won't 
 you, and get about something else ?" 
 
 " Certainly, papa, if you wish it ; but 
 Claude knows I paint a good deal." 
 
 '* Yes — yes, very likely ; but I don't want 
 Mm to see you at it. Out of sight, you know, 
 out of mind. There, put them away — put 
 them away, girl, before he comes into the 
 room." 
 
 Mary was not quite pleased that her fa- 
 vourite amusement was to be sacrificed in this 
 way to her papa's whim, as she considered 
 it, about Claude's temptation to painting. 
 Besides, she knew that Claude needed no 
 temptation, and that probably he was then 
 shut up in hi^ room and thus employed, for 
 she heard him give orders for a fire to be 
 lighted there, and she guessed what that 
 meant. 
 
 " Papa," she said, " I don't think Claude 
 will be coming here for some time ; he is very 
 busy this morning in his own room."
 
 38 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 " Never mind, dear ; put them away — put 
 tliem away. I don't want to see any paints 
 about while he is in the house. I tell you 
 what, Polly ; if you don't touch your drawing 
 materials while Claude's here this Christmas, 
 you shall have your wish, darling. Yes ; I'll 
 let you have lessons in water-colours when 
 he's off to London. When he's gone, you may 
 make inquiries in Dover about a teacher." 
 
 " Oh ! thank you, papa," and Mary leant 
 over her papa's chair and gave him a kiss, 
 and then hurried out of the library with her 
 colour-box and portfolio. 
 
 Claude, as Mary had guessed, was locked 
 in his bedroom, and working away stealthily 
 at an enlarged copy from one of his sketches. 
 
 " Who's there ?" he shouted in answer to a 
 gentle tap at the door. 
 
 " It's only I; open the door, Claude," re- 
 plied a voice, a little above a whisper. 
 
 The door was opened, and Mary slipped in 
 through the narrow space afforded for her 
 entrance.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 39 
 
 "I knew what jou were about. May I 
 come in and paint, too ? Papa has made me 
 promise to put away my drawings while you 
 are at home. Let me sit with you, will you, 
 Claude ? There's nothing to do this miser- 
 able weather; and I mustn't paint down- 
 stairs." 
 
 " Come along, Polly ; there's plenty of 
 room, and a capital fire." 
 
 '' How snug it is, Claude, isn't it ? Oh ! 
 you sly fellow ; I knew what you were 
 about." 
 
 " Don't talk so loud, chick. K"obody must 
 know you are here, you know, in my bed- 
 room." 
 
 " I often come here when you're not at 
 home, you know. That wardrobe is too big 
 for my room ; that's why it's put here, and I 
 often want to come to it." 
 
 " Well, if any of the servants come, you 
 must be fumbling in your wardrobe." 
 
 " Oh ! nobody will come. It is so delici-
 
 40 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 ously snug here. What are jou working at ? 
 Oh ! I see ; the head of that Master of .'* 
 
 Mary opened her portfolio and unlocked 
 her colour box, and was soon busy at her 
 landscape. 
 
 " They'll be coming, perhaps, to bring you 
 coals presently, Claude," she said, after a 
 while. 
 
 " ]^o they won't ; look here, I've got the 
 breakfast-room box full." 
 
 "You think of everything, you cunning 
 fellow." 
 
 " What's that ? " asked Claude, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 " What's what ?" replied Mary, in the same 
 suppressed tone of voice, and looking up in- 
 quiringly in her companion's face, which was 
 betraying some alarm. 
 
 "It's papa's step," continued Mary, " com- 
 ing along the gallery ! He must be coming 
 here to your room." 
 
 In the alarm, colour boxes and portfolios
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 41 
 
 were tlirust into drawers and other conveni- 
 ent hiding places. 
 
 " He mustn't find me here," whispered 
 Mary, looking round bewilderingly for a 
 means of escape. 
 
 " Get under the bedstead," said Claude. 
 
 " I can't ; it's a German one. Look, the 
 sides touch the ground." 
 
 " Get behind the curtains, then." 
 
 " They're so scanty ; he'll see me if he 
 comes in." 
 
 At this moment the footsteps stopped at 
 Claude's door, and the voice of Mr. Threlfall 
 was asking for admission, accompanied by a 
 loud knock with his knuckles. 
 
 " Is that you, uncle ?" shouted Claude, to 
 gain time. 
 
 " Yes ; I want to have a word with you. 
 Can I come in?" 
 
 *' Oh ! certainly, sir ; just wait half a second 
 while I get the soap off my hands." 
 
 Claude signed to his cousin, who had placed 
 herself at the back of the door, that he might
 
 42 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 open it wide, and so conceal her. He was 
 pointing to the wardrobe with one hand, 
 while he was splashing about the other in the 
 ewer. In an instant Marj was inside the 
 fortunate refuge, and as Claude turned the 
 key to ensure her safety, she was closely 
 packed in among the skirts of her own hang- 
 ing dresses, and scarcely able to move. 
 
 " I'm in no hurry, Claude," called out his 
 uncle ; " take your time, my boy." 
 
 " All right, sir, you can come in," and at 
 the same moment, with the towel in his hand, 
 and knocking very unnecessarily his port- 
 manteau about, he unlocked the door, and 
 admitted his visitor. 
 
 " So you've got a fire here, eh ? I was 
 wondering where you were that you didn't 
 join us in the library." 
 
 " You see, sir, I've got a good many things 
 to look to in the expectation of going to 
 London, and I thought I'd take the oppor- 
 tunity of this dull weather just to make a few 
 preparations."
 
 THE EEIDAL BAE. 4B 
 
 " Quite right, my boy, quite right ; but as 
 you are so snug here I may as well sit down. 
 We can have our little private chat here," 
 and Mr. Threlfall took the chair which his 
 daughter had just vacated. 
 
 "Well," he began, '^you'll now be leaving 
 us shortly ; only another week or eight days, 
 and you'll be off to town. Let me see, how 
 old are you, Claude ?" 
 
 " Twenty-two, sir." 
 
 " Ah ! twenty-two ; and }dj the time you 
 are called to the bar, you'll be twenty- seven." 
 
 " Just so, sir." 
 
 " I wish, for your sake, you had taken your 
 degree, for then, you see, you would have 
 been called when you are twenty-five." 
 
 " There's no hurry, sir." 
 
 " ISTo hurry, Claude ! You know you can't 
 be married tiU you're called." 
 
 " Ah ! true, sir." 
 
 " And Mary will think five years a long 
 time to wait." 
 
 Mary was thinking just then that she had
 
 44 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 been waiting quite long enough in her stifling 
 place of concealment. 
 
 "Eiye years is a long time, sir," replied 
 Claude. 
 
 " Yes, a very long time, and Mary will be 
 twenty- four. Young ladies, you know, Claude, 
 don't like to be kept waiting too long. How- 
 ever, there's no help for it. You can't be 
 married for five years at the soonest, that's 
 clear ; but she'll wait patiently, I know, I've 
 no fear on that head. She loves you, Claude, 
 and is ready to endure anything in reason for 
 your sake." 
 
 At this moment there was a slight creaking 
 noise inside the wardrobe, as if the endurance 
 up to that time had been sufficiently long, and 
 was scarcely longer tolerable. Mr. Threlfall 
 turned his head at the noise, and Claude 
 began to feel uneasy, and to look confused. 
 
 " Well, well," continued the old gentleman, 
 " what must be, must be. We'll say no more 
 about that ; but I want to have a long chat 
 with you about your future arrangements.
 
 THE EEIDAL BAR. 45 
 
 Put a few more coals on the fire, Claude ; it's 
 burning low, and tlie day's bitingly cold." 
 
 Again tlie creaking noise was heard from 
 behind. 
 
 " Poor Marjj" thought Claude, " she can't 
 endiu-e it much longer." 
 
 " What's that noise, Claude ?" 
 
 " Only the furniture, sir ; frirniture, you 
 know, will make that creaking sound in very 
 damp or very dry weather." 
 
 " Yery true ; but put a few coals on, 
 Claude," and he drew his chair closer to the 
 fire. 
 
 ''I'm afraid the box is empty, sir," and he 
 went towards the coal-box, which was half 
 full at least. " Yes, quite empty, sir ; hadn't 
 we better go down to the library, and talk the 
 matter over there ?" 
 
 And, thus saying, to make the necessity 
 absolutely imperative, seizing the poker, he 
 raked the remainder of the burning coals out 
 into the grate, and moved towards the door, 
 followed by his uncle. They were in the
 
 46 THE EEIDAL BAR. 
 
 library before Claude recollected tliat lie had 
 turned tlie key of tbe wardrobe, and therefore 
 Polly was a close prisoner. Feigning some 
 excuse to return for a moment to Ms room lie 
 hurried up stairs, and liberated bis poor 
 cousin, who was balf-suffocated, and most 
 thankful to be released. 
 
 " You see, Claude," Mr. Threlfall was say- 
 ing, when Mary joined them in the library, 
 '' all really great men have more or less 
 worked their way to eminence through con- 
 siderable difficulties. You can scarcely men- 
 tion a name in the long roll of distinguished 
 men but I can tell you something of the 
 almost gigantic obstacles which their in- 
 domitable will has encountered and overcome. 
 I like a man to meet with difficulties and 
 obstructions ; it makes him inventive and 
 energetic; he's sure to make his own oppor- 
 tunities, and to turn them to good account." 
 
 Mary smiled as she listened to these sage 
 remarks of her father, and could not help 
 thinking, with some feeling of satisfaction,
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 47 
 
 that lier dear Claude had difficulties enough 
 in the Tvay he intended to go, and might be, 
 therefore, reasonably expected to become a 
 great man in his own line of things. 
 
 " I quite think with you, sir," replied 
 Claude, "there's nothing like difficulties to 
 make a man of a fellow. I like difficulties, 
 thoroughly enjoy them, sir. It was no small 
 difficulty to get into my head those crabbed 
 geometrical definitions, but I resolved to over- 
 come it, and hence I can repeat everyone of 
 them, and almost rattle off every proposition 
 in regular order, beginning at the first book. 
 Another session at Cambridge, and I shall be 
 certain of my B.A." 
 
 Claude's conscience just then was in a very 
 rattling, reckless mood. 
 
 " Say no more of Cambridge, my boy ; we 
 must risk no more time. You might not pass 
 after all, you know ; and I really don't care 
 about so much geometry for you." 
 
 " Yery good, sh" ; but I don't like to be
 
 48 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 beaten at anything I take in hand. I'll make 
 another and final effort if you like, sir." 
 
 Now Claude had no wish to return to Cam- 
 bridge on the distinct understanding that he 
 was to take his degree, but he knew that a 
 display of his confidence and powers of en- 
 durance and pluck would give his uncle 
 pleasure, and he had no fear that he would 
 alter his mind and put him to the test. 
 
 " No, no ; no more of Cambridge ; you shall 
 work now in another direction. I shall see 
 what stuff you are made of in working your 
 way to the Bar. I've always intended you for 
 the Bar. By-the-bye, I have a few law books 
 on the shelves : begin to read at once, Claude. 
 Here are Blackstone's ' Commentaries on the 
 Laws of England.' Take the first volume, 
 and see if you can't master that before you 
 leave home. You can have a fire in your own 
 room, and give your mornings to the study of 
 that admirable work. Every barrister must 
 have Blacks tone at his fingers' ends." 
 
 Mr. Threlfall took down the volume he had
 
 THE EEIDAL BAE. 49 
 
 mentioned from Ms shelves, and handed it to 
 Claude, who took it with the semblance of the 
 profonndest pleasure. 
 
 " I'll make good use of the volume, sir, you 
 may trust me. Sir William and I will soon 
 be well acquainted." 
 
 " That's right, my boy. Blackstone is not 
 an easy book, I beheve, and some of his 
 notions gave rise to a good deal of learned 
 controversy, if I remember right ; but with 
 your legal ardour and excellent abilities and 
 delight in difficulties, you'll master him, not a 
 doubt of it." 
 
 " ISTot a doubt of it, sir ; I have a sort of 
 natural appetite for all kinds of obscurities, 
 and the law I know is pretty thickly strewed 
 with these delightful amusements." 
 
 " You'll succeed, Claude, with such a taste 
 as that, sure to succeed at the Bar. A fellow 
 who can repeat off from memory that geome- 
 trical gibberish which so amused us all the 
 night you came home, can cram his head with 
 anything." 
 
 VOL. I. T)
 
 50 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 " Do you know, uncle," said Claude, proud 
 to be acknowledged sucli a genius by his 
 patron, "tMs peculiar appetite of mine for 
 all that is profound and obscure inclines me 
 to charge my memory with the most involved 
 passages in every book I study. For example, 
 some of our English writers of repute abound 
 with very abstruse ideas conveyed in language 
 not easy to be understood. I could give you 
 a lot of examples from Shakspeare, for in- 
 stance. Do you remember Johnson's defini- 
 tion of ' network,' uncle ?" 
 
 " I can't say I do." 
 
 " When I first clapped eyes on it, I took to 
 it like a baby to its milk. Here it is, ' Any- 
 thing reticulated or decussated, at equal dis- 
 tances, with interstices between the inter- 
 sections.' Do you know, although I knew 
 pretty well what network is, yet the moment 
 I read that in the Dictionary I felt it was abso- 
 lutely impossible that I should ever forget the 
 meaning of the word thereafter." 
 
 "You'll make a lawyer, Claude, not a doubt
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 51 
 
 of it, my boy," replied Mr. Threlfall, with a 
 glow of admiration ; " you have all the apti- 
 tudes for a successful career at the Bar. I 
 knew I was right to destine you for the 
 Bar." 
 
 " I'm quite in love with my profession, sir, 
 and shall work at it with a will I can tell you, 
 uncle, when I get to London." 
 
 " Begin at once, Claude, with Black- 
 stone." 
 
 " With all my heart, uncle, I'll make good 
 use of the eminent old jurist. I'll begin to- 
 morrow morning, sir, but I hope I shall not 
 be disturbed in the hours of study." 
 
 This was meant for a hint to the worthy 
 gentleman himself, whose intrusion alone the 
 nephew was at all concerned about. 
 
 " Do you know, Claude, it was through 
 reading the life of Sir William many years 
 ago that I decided to make a barrister of 
 you." 
 
 "Indeed, sir." 
 
 " Yes, Blackstone, like you, was an orphan 
 
 D 2 
 
 SSmOrlUlHO^
 
 52 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 in early life, and was taken charge of by Ms 
 uncle ; and, like you, had a bias, a very strong 
 and foolish bias, the love of writing verses. 
 He thought he was a child of the poetic muse, 
 but he soon discovered the folly of leaning to 
 his bias. When he had selected the law for 
 his profession, and entered the Middle Temple, 
 he wrote what he called ' The Lawyer's fare- 
 well to his Muse,' and from that day he rose 
 in his profession, and eventually became a 
 judge, and the author of that celebrated work 
 which you hold in your hand. Follow his 
 example, Claude. The first thing you do 
 when you get to your chambers in town put 
 your foot on that old foolish passion of yours, 
 and say farewell to the brush and the palette 
 for ever." 
 
 " I'll exalt my profession, sir ; depend on 
 that, and put my foot on everything else with 
 all the firmness of a truly heroic decision." 
 
 At this moment his eye met Mary's, which 
 was twinkling with humour, and having first 
 made sure that he was unobserved, he re-
 
 THE BRIDAL BAR. 53 
 
 sponcled bj a wink. Julia noticed this tele- 
 graplij between lier brother and cousin, and 
 looked as if she did not at all sanction the 
 hypocrisy. 
 
 " Have you thought about your Inn of 
 Court?" asked Mr. Threlfall. " Paget's son, 
 young Hawley, is entered at the Inner Temple. 
 You'll like to know him, he's a hard-working 
 fellow — quite an enthusiastic lawyer." 
 
 Claude had no desire to make the acquain- 
 tance of this very enthusiastic young lawyer, 
 and had privately resolved with himself to get 
 as far away from him as possible. 
 
 " Yes, sir, I have thought over that matter, 
 and had decided on Lincoln's Inn, but I 
 understand Gray's Inn is one of the best Inns 
 of Court, and enjoys peculiar advantages ; so, 
 with your permission, I'll decide on joining 
 that." 
 
 " Yery good, as you please, Claude. I 
 should recommend you to attend all the lec- 
 tures of your Inn. The lectures must be very- 
 valuable to a law student ; and then take my
 
 54 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 advice, and attend diligently the cliambers of 
 some gentleman in practice." 
 
 Claude tlionglit lie could assent to all this 
 with a clear conscience. He had made up his 
 mind to attend lectures, but thej were those 
 of the Eojal Academy, and besides joining the 
 classes of that illustrious school of art, he 
 hoped to be often in the chambers, that is to 
 say, the studios, of some gentleman in practice. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I shall attend all the lectures, 
 and shall rarely be out of chambers. I fear I 
 shall have little time to make Mr. Hawley 
 Paget' s acquaintance. I intend to stick to 
 work, sir, and shall avoid the temptation of 
 company.'* 
 
 " Quite right, Claude, quite right. I ap- 
 plaud your resolution, my boy. N'ever mind 
 acquaintances for the present. Stick to your 
 professional duties, avoid the seductions of 
 company, and wrestle with difficulties like a 
 
 man." 
 
 "I am glad you approve of my plans, sir." 
 " I approve of them entirely, Claude, and I
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 55 
 
 wish jou success heartily. You'll be an M.P. 
 one of these days, I'm sure of it, Claude." 
 
 " I hope so, sir." 
 
 And the conscientious nephew, observing 
 that his uncle had ended the conversation and 
 resumed his biographical reading, again winked 
 at Mary, who responded by a shake of her 
 head, in which something like approval and 
 rebuke were curiously commingled.
 
 56 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 SNOWED UP. 
 
 Still the snow was falling, and but for the 
 fierce, driving, north-westerlj wind, would by 
 this time have covered the ground with a uni- 
 form depth of at least six inches, but the 
 violence of the blasts, which had now quite 
 stripped the trees and shrubs of their beauti- 
 ful winter foliage, had carried the soft, deli- 
 cate burden into all sorts of inconvenient 
 positions, throwing broad, deep belts of drift 
 across pathways, barricading garden gateways, 
 and making the high road absolutely impass-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 57 
 
 able. The whole face of the country, when 
 the occupants of the Grange looked out at 
 their bedroom windows this morning, had 
 undergone a strange metamorphosis. Little 
 valleys had been lifted up to the level of the 
 little hills, which, hke other small elevations, 
 had been wont to look down proudly from their 
 tiny height into the depths beneath, and new 
 mimic heights had reared themselves in emula- 
 tion, and now complacently triumph over their 
 humbled fellows. And the triumph promised 
 to be still more exalted and complete, for the 
 air was thick with the falling flakes, and the 
 wind, like fortune in one of her wildest freaks, 
 was busy at its driving and piling work. The 
 family at Walmer Grange were going to be 
 snowed up, that was plain enough; indeed, 
 they were pretty well snowed up already, for 
 it would be quite a whole day's work for the 
 gardener, coachman, and Thomas together, to 
 clear away the approaches to the house and 
 open the five-barred gate ; and when this was 
 done the drift outside would be like a great 
 
 D 6
 
 •58 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 military eartliwork, equally impervious by be- 
 sieged or besiegers — a not uncommon mutual 
 disadvantage in active military experiences, 
 and then it would all have to be done over 
 again, for the elements were in earnest, and 
 were working together with a will, the gentle 
 snow playing into the malicious hands of the 
 rude, rough wind, with a resignation and even 
 abandon that was really appalling. 
 
 " Snowed up, by Jove 1" exclaimed Claude, 
 as he peeped through the Venetian blind, 
 shivering in his night-shirt. " The bare 
 trees look like gaunt black skeletons in the 
 surrounding whiteness. How they must 
 shiver !" and with a shiver himself he sprang 
 into bed again to recover and enjoy his last 
 warmth. 
 
 " Blackstone to-day," he soliloquized, as he 
 looked out from the bed-clothes towards the 
 volume of his uncle's admiration. " Yes, we 
 shall begin with you this morning, old boy, 
 and shall follow your admirable example, and 
 take a firm and final farewell of what we
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 59 
 
 don't intend to stand in the ^vay of onr cliosen 
 road in life. I sliall begin tliis very morning 
 with saying farewell to yon, Sir William, for 
 ever. Don't be vexed, old fellow, I sha'n't 
 throw yon aside altogether. Yon'll be of 
 some nse to me. Yes, I'll tnrn over yonr 
 pages, and clap a marker in yon — that bine 
 ribbon marker of eight separate lengths tipped 
 with perforated cardboard, which my thought- 
 ful sister Juha gave me when I went to 
 Cambridg^e to read: but if I read a line of 
 your legal learning, let me be pegged up on 
 my own easel with my head where my heels 
 ought to be." 
 
 At this moment the morning gong sounded 
 through the house, and Claude sprang out of 
 bed, and began to dress himself. 
 
 " Shivering, smarting work for those fel- 
 lows who shave," he spurted out as he soused 
 his face and beard with soap and water. 
 " "What a clean, smooth face dear old uncle 
 has ! and he wants me to shave, too, and cut
 
 60 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 off this long busily hair. Poor old fellow ! I 
 know why," and he winked to himself in the 
 enjoyment of his humour, and got a smarting 
 sensation from the soap in his eye. "But, 
 no, sir, I must beg to be excused. Men of 
 my profession cultivate hair. 'No shaving for 
 me, uncle. Sorry to disoblige you ; but no 
 shaving for me." 
 
 After breakfast, Mary said to her cousin 
 Julia, but rather for her papa's ear than hers, 
 something about being up-stairs a good while 
 and arranging her " things." 
 
 "You won't care to come, Julia, I sup- 
 pose," she added, with a look which told her 
 cousin what that feminine but indefinite term 
 " things " meant in this instance. 
 
 " No," replied Julia, " if uncle will allow 
 me I shall sit with him in the library." 
 
 " Certainly, my dear," said Mr. Threlfall, 
 " we are shut up for to-day, at least, and pro- 
 bably shall be for a week to come. Have a 
 fire, Polly," turning towards his daughter,
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 61 
 
 " if you are going to be up stairs for 
 long." 
 
 " Oh, yes, papa, I shall liave a fire ; it is so 
 bitterly cold this morning." 
 
 " And you, Claude," continued his uncle, 
 *' will begin with Blackstone, I suppose, this 
 morning ? You'll forget all about the weather 
 in his good company." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I have made arrangements for 
 my first morning with that learned jurist. 
 He's up-stairs in my room, and I shall hope 
 to enjoy his company." 
 
 " Nobody shall disturb you, my boy. Keep 
 a good warm fire, and we shall not expect to 
 see you till lunch." 
 
 Claude thanked his uncle for the advan- 
 tages of his literary retirement, and soon left 
 the room. As he passed up-stairs he could 
 not help smiling to himself at the extreme 
 simplicity of the kind old man, whose ready 
 acquiescence in all his hypocritical proposals 
 favoured his own private schemes to his 
 heart's content. His uncle intended to be,
 
 62 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 and was, as far as lie could be, a very great 
 obstacle to Ms artistic ambition ; but somebow 
 eyerytbing bis uncle proposed and assented 
 to furthered bis own designs, and bis oppo- 
 sition only served to wbet an appetite wbicb 
 was already sufficiently keen. 
 
 Mr. Tbrelfall, by tbe course be pursued, 
 certainly taugbt bis nepbew tbe value of time, 
 and tbe preciousness of opportunities ; and 
 was unwittingly affording bim, every day of 
 bis life, tbe means of testing, witb very special 
 advantage, tbe trutb of bis sage moralizing 
 about tbe pursuit of a cberisbed career in tbe 
 midst of difficulties. Tbey were precious 
 seasons to Claude wben be could snatcb an 
 bour or two by bimself for tbe practice of bis 
 art, and tbat art endeared itself tbe more to 
 bim, for tbe reason tbat it was peremptorily 
 forbidden, and bad to be pursued in occasional 
 and stealtby moments. His beloved art was 
 most unreasonably and sbamefully abused in 
 bis individual person, and be loved it all tbe 
 more ardently for its bad treatment.
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 63 
 
 A very gentle tap at the door, soon after 
 Claude was comfortably seated at his work, 
 announced the expected arrival of that equally 
 incorrigible young lady. Miss Polly. The 
 door was quietly opened, closed, and care- 
 fully locked, before Mary ventured to speak, 
 and then she said — 
 
 " You know, Claude, my things," laying an 
 emphasis on the word, " are here ; may I sit 
 with you ? I've got no fire in my room, and 
 it is so cold." At the same time looking at 
 him with one of her arch, half- winking, pene- 
 trating glances, which was not to be resisted. 
 " You'll not be so hard-hearted as to bundle me 
 and my things out such a day as this ? I'll 
 not disturb you and Mr. Blacks tone. What 
 a miserable day it is !" and she sat herself 
 down and drew her chair close to the fire. 
 " Dear old papa, how simple he is, isn't he ?" 
 
 " Do you know, Polly, I'm half ashamed of 
 this deception." 
 
 " And I'm the other half, Claude. It isn't 
 right, is it?"
 
 64 THE ERIDAL BAE. 
 
 " 'No, upon my soul it isn't. But what's a 
 fellow to do ? It goes against tlie grain to 
 deceive uncle, and it goes against the grain to 
 give up painting. I wish we had no grain in 
 us, Polly, and then we shouldn't be so infer- 
 nally bothered." 
 
 "It certainly is very inconvenient, Claude, 
 but I suppose our human timber wouldn't be 
 worth much if we had no grain in us. It 
 went a good deal against the grain when I 
 was boxed up in that wardrobe yesterday, I 
 can tell you." 
 
 " But it was lucky it was in this room, 
 wasn't it ? Did you hear what we were talk- 
 ing about ?" 
 
 " Of course I did ; what a lot of lies you 
 did tell, Claude. I'm afraid you are growing 
 a very wicked young man. Lying seems to 
 come quite natural to you." 
 
 " Oh, no ! Polly, I don't tell lies just for 
 the pleasure of the thing." 
 
 " JSTo, I suppose not, but just when it's con- 
 venient. I suppose if it were convenient to
 
 THE BEIDAL BxiR. 65 
 
 tell me a lot of lies, you wouldn't hesitate to 
 do so, ell ?" 
 
 " Come, I say, Polly, you're a little too 
 hard upon me. I told those lies yesterday 
 just to get you out of a scrape, you know ; 
 and besides, what a big lie you told, didn't 
 
 you ?" 
 
 " Indeed I didn't; how could I, for I never 
 spoke a word all the time ?" 
 
 " But you were hiding from uncle in that 
 wardrobe all the time, and I call that a thump- 
 ing lie, bigger than all my lies put together.'* 
 
 " I didn't enjoy telling it, for I was most 
 uncomfortably jammed in, and almost suffo- 
 cated. But don't let us talk any more about 
 lies, Claude. I don't intend to tell that 
 thumping lie, as you call it, again, if I can 
 help it." 
 
 " You are pretty safe not to be tempted, 
 Polly. Uncle won't come here this morning 
 to frighten us. We shall have three hours 
 quite, all to ourselves." 
 
 With this conscientious prelude they both
 
 66 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 set to work, after Mary had given Claude a 
 kiss, and told him that she didn't think at all 
 badly of him, and quite condoned all his story 
 telling. Neither seemed to be any further 
 troubled with the moral aspects of their clan- 
 destine employment, and their very sensitive 
 consciences did not seem to suffer any further 
 shock while they both talked on occasionally, 
 but always in carefully suppressed tones and 
 half- whispers. 
 
 Conscience, however, is a peculiarly restless 
 and obtrusive faculty in the moral constitu- 
 tion of most human beings, and though it had 
 been diverted or hushed for a time, it again 
 became fidgety, and provoked the resumption 
 of the moral question. Quite two hours of 
 their time had elapsed when Mary said, busy 
 with her brush — 
 
 " You know, Claude, I think papa is as 
 much to blame as any of us." 
 
 Claude had been for some time in the most 
 perfect enjoyment of his moral complacency, 
 and was thinking of nothing but his work, to
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. ^7 
 
 whictL lie was applying liimself Tvitli engross- 
 ing interest. He turned round with a look of 
 surprise^ as tliougli tie asked for an expla- 
 nation. 
 
 " Blame ! what about ?" he ejaculated. 
 
 " Why, for all our fibs, and little deceptive 
 schemings." 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! yes, to be sure. I really do 
 think, Polly, uncle has something to answer 
 for in the matter." 
 
 " Of course he has. If it were not for this 
 whim of his, we could do everything openly, 
 and it would be far more pleasant, wouldn't 
 it?" 
 
 '' To be sure it would." 
 
 " TTith some people you can't be straight- 
 forward, Claude, can you ?" 
 
 " No, you really can't. If you tell them 
 the truth they don't like it, and get angry and 
 blow you up." 
 
 " Yes, and then some people are so inquisi- 
 tive. You can't be out of the room ten 
 minutes, or take a stroll in the garden, or be
 
 68 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 out for a little longer walk than usual, with- 
 out being questioned as to where you've been, 
 and what youVe been doing, and whether you 
 have met anybody, and all sorts of trouble- 
 some, prying questions. Of course one don't 
 want to report every little thing, and you 
 must sometimes be equivocal or evasive, or 
 tell a downright fib." 
 
 " Of course; that's just it. Those prying, 
 questioning people, are responsible for a lot of 
 one's peccadillos." 
 
 " What a lot of fibs people do tell, don't 
 they? I don't think it's possible to live 
 without telling or acting lies now and 
 then." 
 
 " But it's very wrong, isn't it, Polly ?" 
 
 " Well, I suppose it is, because I never feel 
 altogether comfortable when I tell lies." 
 
 *' Nor I, but one gets used to it. I don't 
 think that lying, like reading, comes by 
 nature, as old Dogberry says. And yet 
 Nature herself tells a precious lot of fibs, 
 don't she ?"
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 69 
 
 " Xature tells fibs, Claude ! I don't quite 
 understand you." 
 
 " Well, doesn't slie put on a lot of false 
 appearances, and liang out a lot of tempta- 
 tions? But woe betide you if you put any 
 confidence in lier illusions, and yield to lier 
 seductions." 
 
 " Oil ! come, Mr. Claude, that's going too 
 far in search of a countenance to our own 
 naughty doings. TsTo, no, that won't do at all. 
 You and I and all the rest of us must follow 
 the dictates of our own reason, and yield to 
 the impulses of our pure moral feelings, you 
 know." 
 
 " Xow look here, Polly ; do you mean to say 
 that Xature never tells downright lies ? Why 
 just look out of the window. There now, 
 isn't the whole of that snow landscape one big 
 white he ?" 
 
 " Lie ! no — where' s the lie ?" 
 
 "Can you see the little dingle now down 
 there ?" 
 
 **No, I can't."
 
 70 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " And yet you know it is tliere ; but Nature 
 this morning has filled it up to the level of 
 the little hill sides. Don't you call that a fib ? 
 And look at those mounds rising up there ; 
 you know they are all snow-drift, and yet 
 Nature would have you believe that they are 
 solid earth and the permanent undulations of 
 the country. Don't you call that lying ?" 
 
 Mary burst out into a loud laugh, and im- 
 mediately afterwards a knock was heard at 
 the door, and a female voice asked if Miss 
 Mary was there. 
 
 The loud laugh had betrayed her, so Mary 
 instantly opened the door. 
 
 " Oh ! if you please, miss," said her maid, 
 ** master's been asking for you. He says he's 
 afraid you must be cold, so long upstairs in 
 your bedroom." 
 
 " I've done now, Fanny ; tell papa I will 
 come to him almost immediately." 
 
 Mary asked Claude to put her " things " 
 away for her, and went below into the library. 
 Claude had still a half hour left before lunch,
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 71 
 
 and locked himself in till the sound of the 
 gong should summon him from his retirement. 
 Blackstone was opened at page 90, and the 
 blue ribbon marker was carefully inserted for 
 the satisfaction exclusively of his uncle, if he 
 should happen to be curious about the dili- 
 gence and progress of his nephew in his legal 
 studies. 
 
 " Well, Claude," said his uncle, as they sat 
 down to lunch, " so you have stuck well to 
 work, my boy, and what do you think of 
 Blackstone ?" 
 
 Claude quite expected some such interest- 
 ing question as this from his uncle, and had 
 prejDared himself with an answer. " How can 
 a fellow," he had said to himself before leavino- 
 his room, " afford to have a conscience with 
 such a man as my dear old uncle ? He'll 
 have a lot to answer for. He forces me to 
 tell lies with his plaguy inquisitiveness. Hano- 
 it, I shall be glad to get away from home, if 
 it's only to keep a conscience."
 
 72 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he replied, "I've not been idle. 
 Blackstone's a useful book, sir." 
 
 " I thouglit you'd find Mm so. But you 
 have liad quite enougli of Ms company this 
 morning, I dare say, and will be glad to say 
 notMng more about him." 
 
 " Yery glad, indeed, sir." 
 
 " Winter at last, Claude, in real earnest. 
 "Why, we are snowed up already, and it's 
 coming down thicker than ever, and blowing 
 with a vengeance. We shall be prisoners for 
 a week at least." 
 
 " I hope we are well provisioned, sir." 
 
 " I hope so, Claude, for nobody can get to 
 us any more than we can get to them." 
 
 " It's a regular siege, uncle." 
 
 " We shall need strategy, my boy, we shall 
 need strategy. We shall be put to our 
 mettle. After lunch you and I had better 
 lend them a hand in shovelling away the 
 
 snow." 
 
 "With all my heart, uncle. We can't
 
 THE EEIDAL BAE. 73 
 
 tamelj sit down and consent to be snowed 
 up. We must figlittlie unfriendly elements." 
 
 " Quite right, my boy ; never be snowed up 
 wlien a shovel or any other friendly means 
 will help you to pitch aside the cold obstruc- 
 tive hindrances of your natural liberty. Go 
 through life, Claude, with that manly resolu- 
 tion." 
 
 " I will, sir ; I like the point of your 
 moral." 
 
 "Why, papa," exclaimed Mary, "you are 
 quite profound — you talk like a sage, and in 
 parables, too." 
 
 Mr. Threlfall was flattered by this compli- 
 ment from his daughter, and, with manifest 
 pride of feeling, continued his parable. 
 
 " You see, Claude, in a case Hke this, when 
 you are snowed up, hedged in, regularly set 
 upon, you mustn't be vanquished. You must 
 fight your way stoutly ; put a strong, steady 
 shoulder to your task. And you mustn't be 
 over nice about a soil or two, and a few 
 scratches and bruises, and perhaps deeper 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 THE BRIDAL BAE, 
 
 wounds. You can't contend witli great 
 obstacles on any other conditions. Real hard 
 work dirts the hands and makes the back and 
 bones ache, l^ever mind the dirt, and salve 
 and soothing will soon heal all damages." 
 
 Claude listened very complacently to the 
 sage moralising of his uncle, whose face was 
 glowing with self-approval at the brilliancy of 
 his own wisdom and the admirable pertinency 
 of his figurative speech, and when he paused, 
 his nephew shouted — 
 
 " Hear ! hear ! Go on, sir ; you are quite 
 an orator." 
 
 " I think, uncle," struck in Julia, like a 
 splash of cold water on the orator's self-com- 
 placency, " your remarks need some little 
 qualification. Your similes are open to some 
 misconstruction and even perversion. I don't 
 quite like your allusion to dirty hands and 
 bruises, and that sort of thing." 
 
 " Why, my dear, it's quite natural that you, 
 as a young lady, shouldn't like dirt and 
 bruises, but men, you see, mustn't mind these
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 75 
 
 tliiiigs. There's a good deal of dirty work to 
 be done in this hard-working world. The 
 most delicate hands must be defiled. That 
 beantifullj polished brooch in jour bosom 
 was not made with clean hands. The diamond 
 is not cnt and set without defilement ; and all 
 this pure white snow, what will it come to 
 but slush and mire and filthy mud ? It's all 
 in the necessary nature of things, my dear. 
 But come, Claude, if you're ready we had 
 better turn to at our wet dirty work, to make 
 everything clean and comfortable." 
 
 Mary smiled, as Claude and her father rose 
 to quit the room, and Julia did not detain her 
 uncle with any reply, but she did not seem at all 
 convinced or satisfied with the answer she had 
 received, notwithstanding Mr. Threlfall looked 
 so triumphant with the abundance of his 
 illustrations and the completeness of his rhe- 
 torical victory. 
 
 Still the snow fell, and the wind was blow- 
 ing in wild fitful gusts, giving the five men 
 who composed the working part of the garri- 
 
 E 2
 
 76 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 son plenty to do. Claude and his uncle, like 
 tlie others, were soon enveloped in ever 
 thickening layers of fleecy whiteness ; but 
 both laughed and joked at their work, and 
 were wonderfully cheerful. , 
 
 " Shovel away, Claude, never be snowed 
 up, my boy ; pitch it right and left ; we must 
 have a clear path." 
 
 Claude did as he was bidden, and acci- 
 dentally pitched a heavy shovelfuU of snow 
 against his uncle's legs. 
 
 "Gently, Claude; don't knock your old 
 uncle over, my boy." 
 
 " Beg pardon, uncle ; not if I can help it, 
 but you were just in my way then." 
 
 " I'll get out of your way, my boy." 
 
 " Thank you, uncle," and Claude, as he 
 said this, felt how doubly and trebly thankful 
 he should be to his old uncle if he would but 
 get out of his way in the onward course of his 
 one great ambition in life.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 11 
 
 CHAPTEE y. 
 
 UNCLE THEELFALL CONTINUES HIS PAEABLE, AND 
 IS QUITE ENTEETAINING. 
 
 Although the inconyenieiices of being snowed 
 up are frequently considerable, and particu- 
 larly in remote country localities, like tliat of 
 Walmer Grange, yet Claude quite enjoyed the 
 novelty. There were intellectual and moral 
 advantages in this particular snowing up, 
 afforded by Mr. Threlfall's conversation, 
 which was always very suggestive to his 
 nephew, and took a directly educational and 
 admonitory turn, for the special behoof of that
 
 '78 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 young gentleman, wlio was just setting out in 
 life. The only person who did not seem to 
 admire or enjoy his loquacious wisdom was 
 his niece, Julia, who would frequently inter- 
 rupt the flow of his discourse with suggestions 
 that such and such remarks had more than 
 one bearing, and were capable of interpreta- 
 tions which the speaker did not at all contem- 
 plate, or appear to be in the least aware of ; 
 but Julia was behind the domestic scenes, and 
 Mr. Threlf all was not, but always in the fore- 
 front, and in his proper place as head of the 
 family. All his interferences with the man- 
 agement in this family drama, like the part he 
 sustained in it, were blundering and unfortu- 
 nate ; and not till the play was fully acted out 
 and the curtain was about to fall, was he at 
 all aware that he had been sustaining a dis- 
 tinguished role in a comedy of errors. You 
 had only to look at him, and listen to his 
 after-dinner talk for about ten minutes, to be 
 convinced that he was just the man to make 
 the most egregious blunders in his capacity
 
 THE BRIDAL BAR. 79 
 
 'Of cliairmaii of a domestic establisliment. He 
 liad not the least insiglit into character, and 
 had no faculty for the appreciation of per- 
 sonal tastes, inclinations, and aptitudes, Tvhich 
 most educators and directors of the young 
 consider to be elements of reflection and cal- 
 culation in the exercise of their functions. 
 
 As head of his house, he held his authority 
 to be absolute, and considered it his special 
 function to decide the course and future of 
 all his dependants. Without a word of con- 
 versation with his nephew, or raising any 
 question with himself about taste and fitness, 
 he decided he should be a lawyer because it 
 was a respectable profession, and a road to 
 preferment. It may serve to illustrate this 
 sinc^ular defect in his mind that he never 
 had a sharp word for his coachman but on 
 one point. The man persisted in placing the 
 bay mare on the right side of the pole, because 
 she always drew better in that position, and 
 was more manageable. The reason assigned 
 was quite sufficient to decide Mr. Threlfall to
 
 80 ,THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 have her harnessed and put on the left side. 
 He could not endure strong special tastes and 
 biases, either in men or brutes. He did not 
 buy that mare to run only on one side of his 
 carriage, and he was not going to allow it. 
 The horses consequently had to frequently 
 change places at the door, and just as the 
 ladies were about to step into the carriage for 
 their morning drive. Every kind of predilec- 
 tion was a crotchet, and a crotchet was a mere 
 idle perversity and whim, which he did not 
 choose to indulge. Ever since the miserable 
 failure in life of his poor brother "William he 
 had set his face like a flint against crotchets. 
 It never entered his head that his hostility to 
 crotchets was also itself a crotchet. 
 
 The deficiencies of his education were so 
 irreparable that, although he indulged much 
 in his favourite reading of biography, he never 
 learnt the lessons of wisdom which that study, 
 as much as any other, is calculated to afford. 
 He had read over and over again the lives of 
 men whose idiosyncrasies had asserted them-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 81 
 
 selves in spite of blind opposition, and un- 
 favourable circumstances, and liad admired 
 their perseverence and eventual triumph over 
 all obstacles ; but then he could only take in 
 a part of the lesson, and saw only the energy 
 and success which exclusively interested him. 
 He read the lives of these successful men with 
 just one eye, and that steadily fixed on their 
 indomitable purpose and eventual success. 
 It may seem a strange defect in Mr. Threlfall, 
 but he is not the only man in the world who 
 reads with one eye shut, and it was his mis- 
 fortune rather than his fault that his one open 
 eye was not of Cyclopean proportions and 
 keenness of vision. 
 
 No one who looked into Uncle Threlfall' s 
 expansive, clean shaven face, beaming with 
 the complacency of his thoroughly comfort- 
 able circumstances, and bland to the very 
 extreme of gentleness, softness and affability, 
 would doubt for a moment that he was one of 
 the kindest men living. He was tenderness 
 itself towards his daughter and niece, and in- 
 
 E 5
 
 82 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 dulged tliem witli every wish. They never 
 needed to ask him for money, for he made 
 them a most liberal allowance, which he paid 
 with a punctuality, and always in a couple of 
 cheques on a bank at Dover, as if he were 
 paying wages in his counting house. The 
 dear girls should never want for anything 
 while he was living, and when he was dead 
 they should have their own ample fortune 
 placed in their own hands to do what they 
 liked with. He had passed through life with 
 so much easy success, and surrounded by so 
 many agreeable circumstances, that he saw 
 only the best and most pleasant side of human 
 nature, and had an unbounded confidence in 
 the natural goodness and integrity of the 
 human heart. Mr. Threlfall believed in every- 
 body with a most amazing faith, and had not 
 the least particle of suspicion in his generous 
 composition. 
 
 During dinner that day he had made two 
 or three attempts to take up his parable, but 
 it was not remarkable for any higher flights
 
 THE EEIDAL EAE. 83 
 
 of moral wisdom ; indeed, once he fairly broke 
 down in the unusual effort, with him, of 
 straining after tropes and metaphors. What 
 he did say, however, was in close analogical 
 and logical consistency with what he had 
 previously said in a more impromptu and 
 eloquent manner. One conclusion was clear 
 enough, and that was that dirt must be con- 
 tracted in the labour of life, and was a natural 
 necessity. Indeed, he talked so much about 
 du't and its unavoidable discomfort, that any 
 listener would have thought that Mr. Threl- 
 fall quite delighted in dirt, and considered it 
 the summum honum of human existence. 
 Probably not only the poverty of poetic thought 
 and language, but also his recent laborious 
 experiences with shovel and broom among the 
 snow-drifts, had something to do with this 
 repetitious talk of his, and constantly revolving 
 about this dirty idea. Claude seemed quite to 
 enjoy the lively, but somewhat embarrassed, 
 talkativeness of his uncle ; Mary was amused,
 
 84 THE BETDAL BAE. 
 
 and exclianged wicked glances with her cousin, 
 and Juha looked as if she were quite bored 
 and vexed. But the wine was no sooner on 
 the table, and the first glass of favourite port 
 swallowed, than Uncle Threlf all was in a more 
 chatty mood than ever. 
 
 " Claude, my boy," he exclaimed, with fresh 
 animation, " I almost envy you your brilliant 
 prospects in life. I should like to have been 
 a barrister myself. I flatter myself I could 
 have talked to some purpose.** 
 
 " Not a doubt of it, sir," replied the nephew, 
 with a secret chuckle at his uncle's vanity. 
 " Did you ever indicate in your youthful days 
 a talent for speaking, uncle ?" 
 
 " I can't remember ; perhaps I did." 
 *' A pity, if it were so, sir, that nobody 
 discerned your native talent and encouraged 
 you to cultivate it." • 
 
 " Ah ! no, Claude, there you're wrong. 
 Better as it is, very much better as it is. I 
 have been successful in the path chosen for
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 85 
 
 me. You see as a mercliaiit I have succeeded; 
 as a barrister I might not, I might have 
 broken down at the Bar." 
 
 " But you might not, sir." 
 
 " True, I might not ; but jou see there is 
 some possibihty that I might. There's been 
 no doubt about the path I've followed, and 
 therefore it is quite clear that it was the right 
 thing to put me into the counting-house." 
 
 " What's your opinion of the Bar as a pro- 
 fession, uncle ?" 
 
 " A highly respectable profession, Claude, 
 and one that opens the way to wealth, con- 
 sideration, and dignity." 
 
 "Well, yes, I suppose it is what you say; 
 but do you really think it a respectable pro- 
 fession, uncle ?" 
 
 "Eespectable ! of course, highly respectable. 
 Barristers are learned men, and among the 
 first gentlemen of the land." 
 
 " I often think," rejoined Claude, " that it's 
 a very curious, ticklish sort of profession,"
 
 86 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " CurioTis ! ticklisli ! What do jou mean, 
 boy ?" 
 
 " Well, you see, uncle, a barrister must be 
 quite different from the generality of men ; a 
 man, as we say at Cambridge, sm generis. ^^ 
 
 " Explain yourself, Claude, and don't talk 
 Greek." 
 
 " It was a Latin, phrase, sir, that I used." 
 
 " Well, don't talk Latin, neither ; talk Eng- 
 lish, and I shall know what you mean." 
 
 " What I mean is this, uncle ; a barrister is 
 a man of brains and tongue, and with an eye 
 always squinting at fees ; he must have no 
 conscience. Now, a man without a conscience 
 may be a very comfortable sort of person in 
 his way, but he can have no moral discern- 
 ment, and must be singularly deficient of what 
 is generally considered necessary among men 
 — a high moral character. Indeed, I don't 
 know how he can be said to have any cha- 
 racter at all." 
 
 " Your love of obscure things seems to me
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 87 
 
 to muddle your head, Claude. What you 
 have now said sounds in my ear as absurd as 
 that geometrical nonsense we were laughing 
 over the other night." 
 
 " Not at all, uncle ; now, isn't it so ? Look 
 here, now; anybody may hire a barrister, 
 mayn't he ?" 
 
 "If he can pay him his fees." 
 
 " Precisely. And if so, then a barrister is 
 ready to let himself out, like a cannage for 
 common hire, to anybody." 
 
 " That's his business, or rather his profes- 
 sion ; and every man, barrister or no barrister, 
 is ready for business." 
 
 '' But barristers are only engaged in matters 
 of dispute between litigants ; both of whom 
 can't be right ; one must be wrong ; yet, 
 whichever of the two first retains him with 
 a fee, he acknowledges as his client, and makes 
 his case his own." 
 
 " Just so; quite proper, Claude." 
 
 " Well, I'm not quite sure that I see it in 
 that light, "imcle. About the propriety of the
 
 88 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 thing I'm a little, just a little, you see, in 
 doubt. However, not to discuss that point, 
 it proves what I have said, that a barrister 
 must be a man without a conscience." 
 
 " Perfect nonsense, Claude, there's no such 
 thing possible as a man without a conscience. 
 Why he's born with a conscience, just as he's 
 born with a head and legs, and all the rest of 
 his proper manhood." 
 
 " So I think, uncle ; I quite agree with you. 
 But what, then, does he do with his con- 
 science?" 
 
 Mr. Threlfall looked somewhat puzzled by 
 this question, and, after helping himself to a 
 glass of port, pushed the bottle to his nephew. 
 He always drank rather freely of his favourite 
 vintage, and had emptied his glass before he 
 replied. 
 
 " I tell you what it is, Claude, you are too 
 fond of diflSicult questions. I can't say that I 
 am quite so much in love with difl&culties as 
 you are. At all events, my boy, you'll be able 
 to answer your own questions one of these
 
 THE BRIDAL BAR. 89 
 
 days very satisfactorily, for you will be a bar- 
 rister yourself." 
 
 " You can't be surprised, uncle," said 
 Claude, propitiatingly, " that I now and tlien 
 think about the profession for which you have 
 destined me." 
 
 " Certainly not, my dear boy ; you can't 
 think too much about what you wish to suc- 
 ceed in." 
 
 " Well, then, uncle, just gratify me with 
 the light of your wisdom on one or two ques- 
 tions which necessarily interest me." 
 
 Mr. Threlfall was at once propitiated by this 
 appeal to his superior wisdom, and very 
 affably expressed his readiness to continue 
 the conversation. 
 
 " I was saying uncle, that a barrister is 
 ready, on the payment of his retaining fee, 
 for either side of a question in litigation. 
 Now, suppose he happens to have taken not 
 merely the weaker, but the vrrong side, will 
 he, as soon as he discovers it, throw up his 
 brief?"
 
 90 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " To be sure not, Claude, for how then 
 could the litigation go on ?" 
 
 " Then he will defend his client, and, by all 
 the arts of his legal cunning, and the aids of 
 his legal lore, labour to prove the right man 
 wrong and the wrong man right." 
 
 " Exactly so ; he will say all that can be 
 said in defence of his client." 
 
 " And a good deal that ought not to be 
 said too, I fancy." 
 
 "But then, you see, Claude, there's the 
 counsel on the other side, the right side, and 
 he'll make all clear and straight again." 
 
 " But where' s the conscience all this time of 
 the counsel on the wrong side ? Why, uncle, 
 he must be lying all through like a trooper ; 
 putting a false appearance and making false 
 constructions on what he knows to be as 
 
 rotten as this medlar," at the same time put- 
 ting the fruit into his mouth. 
 
 " Rotten things are often eaten, Claude, 
 as you have just shown us. You eat your 
 game and your cheese, as well as your
 
 THE EKIDAL BAE. 91 
 
 medlars, rotten, and enjoy tliem too, eh?'* 
 and Mr. Tlirelfall cliuckled at liis illustrations, 
 and filled his o-lass ao-ain, as tliouo-h to drink 
 
 CD CD ■' O 
 
 a compliment to liis own superlative wisdom. 
 
 Claude, however, returned to the charo-e 
 with the question — 
 
 " Do you think, uncle, counsel enjoys the 
 rottenness of his case ?" 
 
 " Xot unlikely, my boy ; it sharpens his 
 wits, and if he wins, he gets immense credit 
 for his professional skill." 
 
 " But what will his conscience say to him 
 in that event ? I forget, though, he cannot, 
 surely, have a conscience in the matter." 
 
 " [N'ow, Claude," said Mr. Threlfall, with 
 the air of a man who all at once sees thi'ouo-h 
 a brick wall, '' I will answer your question. 
 A barrister can take up another man's case, 
 but he cannot appropriate another man's con- 
 science. The conscience necessarily remains 
 with his client; that's not transferable — of 
 
 course not."
 
 92 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " Then the barrister doesn't want a con- 
 science at all in the case, uncle." 
 
 " To be sure not, my boy." 
 
 " I'm afraid, uncle, I shall not be able to 
 lay my conscience aside so easily when I enter 
 on my professional career." 
 
 " It will come easily enough, Claude, never 
 fear, in the course of your professional train- 
 mg. 
 
 "The bar, as I said, uncle, is a ticklish 
 profession ; respectable enough, no doubt, but 
 liable to dabble in dirt." 
 
 " Ah ! dirt ; there it is again," exclaimed 
 Mr. Threlfall, with a smile of gratified remi- 
 niscence; " as I have said more than once 
 to-day, dirt is inevitable ; we can't get away 
 from dirt ; it's a law of nature is dirt, Claude, 
 a law of nature, my boy. Nature herself is 
 often very dirty, as we proved this morning, 
 and shall see when this snow begins to melt. 
 But I'm rather tired, Claude, with that shovel- 
 ling work, and will take a nap before tea.'*
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 93 
 
 Claude withdrew witli Mary and Julia to 
 tlie drawing room, and left uncle Threlfall to 
 repose awhile after the manual and intellectual 
 fatigues he had undergone. 
 
 Mary and Claude were in the mood to enjoy 
 a hearty laugh over the simplicity of the 
 moralizing with which they had been enter- 
 tained, but Julia was determined to have her 
 opportunity now, and began by saying that 
 she had been quite shocked at Claude for 
 drawing on his uncle to talk in the way he 
 had done. 
 
 " I think uncle never appeared to greater 
 advantage than he has to-day, Julie." 
 
 " Oh ! fie, Claude !" 
 
 " Really Julie," said Mary, " I never heard 
 papa so eloquent." 
 
 " But you do not mean to say, Mary, that 
 you think all that talk about dirt and rotten- 
 ness edifying?" 
 
 "Upon my life I do," answered Claude. 
 " Uncle talked like a sensible, practical man, 
 who knows something of the world."
 
 94 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " "Well, Claude, if yon are speaking 
 seriously, I can only say that you liave one 
 qualification for a barrister — you can play 
 fast and loose witli your conscience." 
 
 " Oil ! oil ! that's plain speaking, Julie." 
 
 " Of course it is ; and I'll be a little 
 plainer, Claude. You took a pleasure in 
 uncle's conversation because it accorded with 
 your own disposition and projects, and afforded 
 something like a sanction to your own conduct. 
 I do wish you'd be straightforward, Claude. 
 You really are a very crooked fellow." 
 
 " Crooked, by Jove ! why, I'm as straight 
 as an arrow." 
 
 " And like an arrow," added Mary, laugh- 
 ing, " can fly straight to your mark, Claude. 
 You're a wicked fellow ; but somehow I do 
 like a wicked fellow. I think if you were as 
 good and proper as Hawley Paget I shouldn't 
 like you half so well." 
 
 " Polly, I'm more than half vexed with 
 you," returned Julia, " you make Claude 
 worse than he is."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 95 
 
 " I beg pardon, Julie, for speaking so 
 rudelj of Hawlej. Indeed I do like Hawlej, 
 but then, you see, Hawley is so very proper, 
 and all tliat sort of tiling. Don't you tliink, 
 now, if he liad a little of Claude's fun lie 
 would be nicer." 
 
 " Well, fun, yes ; but Claude is sometking 
 more than funny. I want kim to be open and 
 straio-ktforward witk uncle." 
 
 " Xow, Julie, you know as well as I tkat 
 uncle won't let me be above-board witk kim. 
 Didn't I try to lead tke conversation so tkat 
 uncle miokt see kow absurd it is to tkwart 
 tke natiu^al inclinations and particular abikties 
 of people ? I koped to draw kim on to con- 
 fess tkat if I kad tke stuff of an artist in me 
 Xature pointed out tkat as my proper profes- 
 sion. But you know uncle don't see it, or 
 won't see it, or can't see it. Come now, let's 
 kave no more preacking. Juke. Wkat's tkat 
 about Hawley Paget? Do you often see 
 kim?" 
 
 " Ok ! we've seen a good deal of tkat young
 
 (C 
 
 cc 
 
 96 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 gentleman, I can tell yon, Clande," said Mary, 
 with one of her sly, expressive looks. " Mr. 
 Hawley Paget' s name is held in high respect 
 here, and not only by papa." 
 
 Oh ! oh ! that's news," said Claude. 
 Polly, what rubbish you are telling 
 Claude," said Julia, blushing. 
 
 " Well, Julie, Mr. Hawley Paget is a very 
 nice young man, and very good looking, too ; 
 and, talking of conscience, I never met with 
 such a conscientious person. Why, I don't 
 believe he would speak or act a fib as small 
 as a filbert, not even to save his life." 
 
 " By Jove ! Polly, he must be one of Ham- 
 let's paragon of animals. Mens sibi conscia 
 recti. He ought to stick those initials at the 
 end of his name — M.E.C.S., a slight trans- 
 position, ' Member of the Royal College of — ' 
 well, ' Saints ;' that will do." 
 
 Julia did not seem at all pleased at the 
 jocularity of her brother, and said nothing. 
 
 " ISTo offence, Julie dear. Forgive me, 
 won't you ? I wish I belonged to that Col-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 97 
 
 lege ; seriously, I do. But this is news ; are 
 you engaged to Hawley, Julie?" 
 
 " Engaged, Claude ! What a question ! 
 but will you please to ring the bell ? Thomas 
 had better tell uncle that tea's ready." 
 
 YOL. I. F
 
 98 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ME. HAWLEY PAGET IS HONOURABLY ACQUITTED. 
 
 It's an ill wind that blows nobody good. 
 Claude Tlirelfall was not at all angry with 
 the fierce north-wester that still continued 
 blowing, and bringing on its wild whistling 
 wings its inexhaustible burden. It had never 
 ceased snowing since the morning after 
 Christinas day, and, at every occasional sub- 
 sidence of the fierce blasts, down it came in 
 dense straight lines, like small ostrich feathers, 
 falling with an energy as if gravitation had 
 trebled its force. Eubbing his hands, as he
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 99 
 
 looked out on the wintry scene, less for 
 warm til tlian for the expression of his most 
 perfect satisfactionj Claude congratulated 
 himself on the eminently agreeable circum- 
 stances of his brief holiday at the Grrange. 
 
 " I sha'n't see Hawley Paget this Christ- 
 mas, that's clear. So, he's head over ears in 
 love with my sister Julie. By Jove ! he 
 would have been here before this, but for this 
 glorious weather. Snowed up, like all the 
 rest of us. Not even love, swift and sure- 
 footed, can make its way from Dover to 
 Walmer. Everything and everybody effectu- 
 ally stopped and shut up, for some days to 
 come ! The first chance of flig:ht and I'm oS. 
 Dear old uncle, how he'll applaud my profes- 
 sional zeal ! Yes, I'll be off to Dover, and on 
 the rails, before that pink Paget is out of the 
 blankets some morning. He and I mustn't 
 meet, that's plain ; the fellow will be horribly 
 in my way in town. No, Hawley ; I must 
 postpone the pleasure of your acquaintance 
 for some time to come. I wish you much 
 
 F 2
 
 100 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 success, my friend, in your conscientious pro- 
 fession; and if Julie likes you, well, I wisli you 
 botli mucli matrimonial happiness. You'll 
 suit eacli other to a T. If your conscience 
 ever gives you any trouble, by being absent 
 at a critical moment, Julie's will help you out 
 with this necessary commodity. You two 
 will never be hard up for conscience. Between 
 you both, you can spare your poor destitute 
 brother a small quantity now and then. By 
 Jove ! this is lucky ; snow away ! Whew ! 
 whistle away old Boreas ! after him Zephyrus ! 
 There's a whizz ! keep it up ! The love of 
 Cupid couldn't face that for all the Psyches 
 in creation. Paget, my boy, your apology is 
 ample ! Not a word, sir — not one single 
 word in excuse for your absence ; you are 
 honourably acquitted. Julie makes full allow- 
 ance for you, and so do I. By-the-bye, I 
 mustn't forget you old Blackstone, before I 
 go downstairs," and he opened the volume, 
 and moved on one of the blue silk ribbons to 
 within thirty pages of the end. " Now, if my
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 101 
 
 good old uncle has been curious to see every 
 day how much progress I have made, he'll 
 see that I've gone pretty fast these last few 
 days, through you, old fellow. I really don't 
 care a fig for you. Sir William ; but you have 
 done me a good turn this vacation, and I am 
 greatly obliged to you. I like men with a 
 conscience. Sir William, and men of your pro- 
 fession have none." 
 
 Claude was thus engaged, in anticipation 
 of the summons to lunch, when Mary, with- 
 out knocking, opened the door — for he had 
 forgotten to lock it after she had left him 
 nearly two hours before — and said that 
 Thomas had just told them that a gentleman 
 the day before had been picked up insensible 
 in a snowdrift, and that he had been taken to 
 the Drum, at Walmer. 
 
 " It appears they don't know at the inn 
 who the gentleman is ; but he was found on 
 the Dover road, with a small portmanteau 
 beside him." 
 
 " What a fool, Polly, to turn out such
 
 102 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 weather as this," replied Claude; " is the poor 
 fellow dead ?" 
 
 " 'No ; fortunately, lie was found in time. 
 A hot water bath brought him to, and he's 
 now in bed there, and I suppose very ill. I 
 wonder who it is, Claude ?" 
 
 " Who could be coming over to Walmer in 
 this weather ?" 
 
 " Do you think it's Hawley ? I almost 
 fear it is. He's not been able to come for so 
 many days ; and he would be sure to come to 
 see Julie, and, of course, he would like to 
 know you." 
 
 " By Jove ! Polly, not at all unlikely ! 
 What on earth shall we do ?" 
 
 " I think we ought to make inquiry at the 
 Drum." 
 
 " Make inquiry ! Who, in the name of 
 common humanity, can be turned out on a 
 couple of miles walk through these Arctic 
 regions just to make inquiry ?" 
 
 " Well, all I have to say is, that Julie is 
 so alarmed, and thinks it very likely that the
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 103 
 
 gentleman is Hawley. But, there's tliegong. 
 Come downstairs = and talk about the matter 
 there." 
 
 Julia was talking with her uncle as they 
 entered the room, and her anxious looks be- 
 trayed her fears that the unfortunate gentle- 
 man was no other than her lover. 
 
 " You fear it's Hawley, Julie, I see. You 
 shall soon be satisfied, for I will go over to 
 the Drum immediately after lunch. Cheer 
 up, Julie ; if it is he, he's out of danger, you 
 know." 
 
 " Oh ! Claude, how can you go ?" said 
 Julia, but evidently much relieved at the 
 generous offer of her brother. 
 
 " It's only a mile across, and I know the 
 country pretty well." 
 
 " But it's very dangerous, Claude," expos- 
 tulated Mary ; " and I shall be so anxious till 
 you come back." 
 
 " Not like a walk from Dover, Polly. I'll 
 go ; there's no danger."
 
 104 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 , " Have the horse, Claude," said Julia. 
 
 " Oh, no, thank you ; I shall manage it 
 better on foot." 
 
 Claude quickly despatched his lunch, and 
 wrapping himself well up, and taking his 
 stout oaken stick, he was soon on his way to 
 the inn. 
 
 Never in his life did Claude remember such 
 a winter as this. True, he knew the country; 
 but the snow was falling in such large flakes, 
 and with such rapidity and density, and every 
 now and then such fierce gusts of wind 
 assailed him, and drove the snow in his face 
 and eyes, that he could see little more of the 
 country than if he were enveloped in a fog. 
 And what he could see of it, was so strange 
 in its aspect, that he had the greatest diffi- 
 culty to keep the familiar high road. More 
 than once he had wandered from his path, 
 and had to retrace his way by his own soli- 
 tary footmarks, which were very soon effaced. 
 A drift passed clean over a low hedge, up
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 105 
 
 whicti he began to ascend, till lie discovered 
 tlie deception by sinking deeper in the 
 snow. 
 
 " There's a lie for you," he said, as he 
 looked back on the deceiving drifts, "a white 
 lie, I grant, but as big a lie as any other, never 
 mind what colour. ^Hiew ! my eye, what a 
 wind ! " and he turned his back to it as it 
 swept by him with a rush and a whistle that 
 ended in a long cadence of a shrill scream, as 
 if of some miserable creature in distress. 
 '' There's a house at last, and the inn must be 
 just round that corner. By Jove ! and I shall 
 have to see Hawley after all, if this unfortu- 
 nate fellow is my prospective brother-in-law. 
 Confoundedly awkward ! This excursion of 
 mine is so worthy of the Good Samaritan, 
 that my poor brother will be melted with 
 grateful emotion, and take me to his bosom 
 from this day forward ! But perhaps it's 
 not Hawley, after all. Hold ! enough ! " he 
 shouted, as he again faced about to receive 
 another blast from the pitiless storm. " Now 
 
 r 5
 
 106 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 just sliut Tip. One may have too mucli of a 
 good thing." He was turning the corner of 
 a house close to the wall, and was shut in by 
 some pailings and a small gate fixed fast, and 
 all but buried in the snow. He saw that he 
 had got by the back way into a cottager's 
 garden, but he had accidentally cut off a 
 circuitous part of his road, and there, to his 
 joy, was the Drum, with its little sign hanging 
 out, like a flying target, which the storm was 
 pelting and beating backwards and forwards 
 on its hinges, to its own individual peril, and 
 that of any hapless being who might venture 
 beneath. 
 
 " Why, bless my soul, Mr. Threlfall, and is 
 that you, sir ? Such a day as this, too 1 
 You've come to see the poor gentleman, in 
 course." This was said by the landlady of 
 the Drum, as, jumping up behind the counter 
 of her bar, where she had been fast asleep, 
 she opened her wondering eyes on an unlocked 
 for visitor. " Mr. Paget, I'm happy to say, 
 sir, is going on very well."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 107 
 
 So it was Hawlej Paget after all. 
 
 " The poor young gentleman," continued 
 the landlady, '' has been within half-an-inch of 
 his grave, sir. Just discovered in the very 
 nick o' time, sir. Another five minutes, pro- 
 bably, and he'd a' been a dead man, not a 
 doubt on it ; but he was tired with his frightful 
 long walk from Dover, and set hisself down. 
 People ought never to sit 'emselves down in a 
 snow-storm when they're tired, Mr. Threlfall. 
 Better keep on their legs and go on, sir. And 
 to think , now, how contrauy things is in this 
 world ! for it happened only just half-a-mile 
 o' your house, where he was a-going to. What 
 a shock it would a' been to you all at the 
 Grange, sir, if the poor young gentleman had 
 perished, almost, as one may say, just under 
 the very winders." 
 
 " It was a narrow escape," replied Claude, 
 "within an inch of his life, eh !" 
 
 " Half-a-inch, sir, not a bit more, I'll be 
 bound. Why, sir, when farmer Grroves' cart 
 managed at last to reach our door with the
 
 108 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 poor young gentleman we all tliouglit lie was 
 dead. But the batli brought him round at 
 last. We had to make it very hot, I can tell 
 you, for it almost scalded my elbow when I 
 tried its temperature. But thank goodness, 
 sir, he's a doing nicely now. He'll have to be 
 kept in bed though, the doctor says, for two 
 or three days, it's been such a shock, you see, 
 sir, to his constitution. You'll take a glass o' 
 something, of course, sir ; something hot, afore 
 you go up stairs to see your friend Mr. Paget.'* 
 
 Claude dechned the brandy, and accepted 
 a glass of peppermint cordial. 
 
 " I'll just go quietly up stairs, sir, and see 
 if Mr. Paget is able to see you." 
 
 The landlady returned to say that the young 
 gentleman was in a nice sound sleep, and it 
 would be a pity to wake him. 
 ^ " But you'll like just to have a peep at him 
 and see how comfortable he is. We sha'n't 
 wake him. Will you come up stairs, sir ?" 
 
 Claude followed the landlady, and went just 
 inside the door. There lay Hawley Paget in
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 109 
 
 the enjoyment of sound repose, breathing 
 quietly, and evidently, as the landlady had 
 said, doing well. 
 
 " We shall take great care of him, Mr. Threl- 
 fall ; have no fears on that score, till he's 
 well enough to get out again and come to you, 
 which won't be for the next three days for 
 certain, to say nothing about the weather, 
 which in course has a voice in the matter. 
 Your family doctor, Mr. Beesley's attending 
 on him, so he can't be in better hands. My 
 duty to your uncle, if you please, sir, and the 
 young ladies. All quite well I hope, sir." 
 
 Claude thanked the landlady for her excel- 
 lent attentions to his friend, and again turned 
 back on his way home. Thanks to the pepper- 
 mint cordial and the warmer cordial that he 
 had accomplished his heroic and benevolent 
 mission without a wide awake interview with 
 his friend and future brother-in-law, Claude 
 waded on through the deep snow with a cheer- 
 full heart and good will. He climbed over 
 the cottage pahngs, and trespassed again
 
 110 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 through the cottager's back garden, but when 
 he had lost sight of this friendly landmark, 
 and hoped to see some traces of his own foot- 
 marks, they were all, to his disappointment, 
 covered up, and he had to make his way as 
 well as he could. 
 
 More than once he was again out of his 
 road, and abused Dame Nature lustily for her 
 wilful departure from truth. That nature 
 herself told lies he was very emphatically con- 
 vinced by many mishaps on this homeward 
 journey. But somehow, notwithstanding his 
 lavish abuse of her deceptive conduct, he 
 laughed at his own disasters, and, when he 
 had surmounted his diflB.culties, looked as if 
 he was winking at Dame Nature, and on most 
 excellent terms with her. At length he reached 
 home, and soon relieved every one of their 
 special anxieties. Julie shed a few tears at 
 first, but Claude gave her such comforting 
 assurances that Hawley was now doing well, 
 and would soon be all right, that she dried 
 her tears, and began to be interested in the
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. Ill 
 
 story of her brother's adventures, the dangers 
 of which were rather increased than diminished 
 hj his exaggerated description. 
 
 At dinner that day, for which Claude had 
 an excellent appetite, and was in equally ex- 
 cellent spirits, he drew his uncle into a lively 
 conversation on the morality of lying, point- 
 ing out the notorious delinquencies of Dame 
 Natui^e, and the practical jokes she played in 
 a snow storm. He became very deep and 
 casuistical as he proceeded in the discussion 
 of the subject, much too deep for the plummet 
 of his uncle's understanding to fathom. But, 
 after ]\Ir. Threlfall had taken several glasses 
 of port, he was disposed to agree with his 
 nephew that lying was inevitable, and a little 
 excusable in some conceivable circumstances, 
 and when indulged in, like Nature's, in the 
 perpetration of a few practical jokes, might 
 be innocently laughed at and even com- 
 mended.
 
 112 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CLAUDE THRELFALL IS GOING TO BE STEAIGHT- 
 
 FOEWAED. 
 
 The snow had fallen so uninterruptedly for 
 several days that it was quite a sensational 
 circumstance when the family met at break- 
 fast, on the following morning, with a clear 
 sky overhead, and a bright winter sun shining 
 — everyone was sensible of a perceptible dif- 
 ference in the temperature ;— in fact, during 
 the night the wind had veered round directly 
 south. It was comparatively warm, and a 
 rapid thaw was predicted as the consequence
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 113 
 
 of this delightful change. Everybody was 
 cheerful. The sign of grief had passed from 
 Julia's face ; Mary was just a little depressed 
 because she knew that, now the weather was 
 likely to be open, Claude would be taking his 
 departure for London. Claude hailed the 
 change with rapture, which was only slightly 
 subdued by a glance at Mary, who seemed as 
 if she rebuked his impatience to be gone. But 
 there were reasons why he wished to be away from 
 the Grange now, which had nothing whatever 
 to do with his affection for his cousin Mary. 
 Hawley was not seriously ill ; he merely 
 wanted a little careful nursing, and, as soon 
 as the state of the weather permitted, he 
 would be coming on to the Grange. He had 
 had a most lucky escape from an interview 
 with him, and, as it was necessary to his plans 
 that he should not make his acquaintance yet, 
 he was not going to spoil his future, or, at 
 least, embarrass it, by waiting at Walmer to 
 welcome his brother-in-law ; Hawley would be 
 sure to acquit him of any indifference after he
 
 114 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 had heard of his departure. Had he not 
 braved the very elements, which had well nigh 
 done for Hawley, by calling upon him at the 
 earliest possible moment at the Drum ? But 
 to remain at home longer was now impossible. 
 This change in the weather would reasonably 
 lead Hawley to expect another visit from him, 
 and it would be a hundred chances to one that 
 he would be so fortunate as to find him again 
 asleep. His course was plain ; he would start 
 for London that very day. He could take a 
 small bag, and his luggage could be sent after 
 him a few days hence. 
 
 " I'm of£ to-day, uncle," he said, as soon as 
 they were seated at breakfast. 
 
 " Off to-day, my boy !" replied Mr. Threl- 
 fall, with a look of surprise. 
 
 " Yes, I'm due, you know, in a day or two 
 at farthest, and it will be prudent to take ad- 
 vantage of this fine day. The snow may 
 return, you know." 
 
 " Very true. I was hardly prepared for 
 such a speedy departure ; but be it so, Claude.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 115 
 
 I Kke your zeal, my boy. But liave you 
 finisliedthe first volume of Blackstone?" 
 
 " Quite done vritli Mm, sir. Finished liim 
 yesterday morning." 
 
 " You shall have the other volumes, my 
 boy." 
 
 " Thank you, uncle." 
 
 *'Yes, they shall be sent up with your 
 luggage. You can't take your luggage to- 
 day." 
 
 " No, I can do without it for two or three 
 days." 
 
 " Let us know your number in Gray's 
 Inn." 
 
 " Oh, I sha'n't live in Chambers, you know, 
 uncle, just yet; it's horribly close, and stuffy, 
 too. One of the suburbs, about a pleasant 
 hour's walk from the Inn, will be the part to 
 live in. I know your strong opinions, uncle, 
 about pure air, and active walking exercise." 
 
 " Ah ! very true, Claude. Sleep in the 
 fresh air, my boy, and an hour's daily walk to 
 your chambers there and back will keep you
 
 116 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 in sound health. I shall hear from yon, at 
 least every week, either directly or through 
 Julie and Polly." 
 
 " Every week, uncle. If I take my head to 
 London I shall leave my heart at Walmer 
 Grange." 
 
 " Well, Claude, my best wishes for your 
 success. If zeal and energy will take you up 
 the ladder of your profession, you'll leave 
 many a round behind you." 
 
 " Thank you, sir ; I shall do my best to get 
 as high up the ladder as I can." 
 
 "I know you will, Claude. When you 
 have packed up all you need to take with you 
 come to me in the library, for just five 
 minutes, alone." ^ 
 
 Claude went off to his room, and was fol- 
 lowed very quickly by Mary and Julia. 
 
 "Now, you know, girls," began Claude, 
 when he had shut the door, "I'm going to be 
 straightforward with you two at all events. 
 You see how the case stands between me and 
 uncle. He don't understand me in the least.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 117 
 
 He has destined me for the Bar, and nature 
 has predestined me to be an artist, and I have 
 been compelled to side with nature, and am 
 resolved to be, what alone I am fit for — that 
 is a dabbler in colours. It's no use fighting 
 against nature, and moreover I am not at all 
 in the mood to cross swords with her. I 
 know well enough what risks I run by this 
 decision. Uncle, if he should know what I 
 am about, will cut me off with a shilling, and 
 cut me for ever while he Hves. If it ever 
 comes to his ears that I've renounced the Bar 
 there'll be the devil to pay. I'm clean done 
 for, that's certain ; I shall be denied my home, 
 and you'll never see me any more. I shall be 
 as good as dead to both of you. Well, now, 
 what I want you both to do is to keep my 
 secret as tight and close as your stay lace, 
 and mind you never read any of my letters to 
 uncle, till you have carefully looked them over 
 yourselves. I shall put, as well as I can, all 
 specially private matters between thickly
 
 118 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 marked brackets, but it may happen, you 
 know, in tlie frankness of correspondence, that 
 some things, either expressed or implied, may 
 slip outside the brackets ; so read my letters 
 carefully, and put your own marks under any 
 ambiguous or suggestive matter, that you do 
 not come out with something which may pro- 
 voke inquiry and demand explanation. You 
 will both need to be very careful, sensitively 
 watchful, and cunningly ingenious." 
 
 " m keep the secret, Claude, and be all 
 that you mention, and a good deal more if 
 necessary," replied Mary, promptly. 
 
 Julia hesitated in her reply, and assumed 
 one of her gravest looks. 
 ' "You don't answer, Julie," said her brother, 
 looking at her with a corresponding serious- 
 ness. ' 
 
 " I don't like secrets, Claude," she replied, 
 *' and especially a secret of this nature." 
 
 " But it can't be helped, Julie ; you know 
 it is unavoidable. I'm irresistibly compelled
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 119 
 
 to follow where nature leads me. Uncle is 
 fighting against nature in my case, and won't 
 give in." 
 
 Julia remained silent, and looked botli dis- 
 tressed and perplexed. 
 
 " Do you want uncle to turn Ms back on 
 me, Julie ? Do you want him to forbid me 
 his house ? Do you want a terrible row be- 
 tween us that will blow up all my prospects 
 for ever ?" 
 
 " Of course I do not, Claude. You know 
 I love you very dearly, and would do any- 
 thing in reason and right to serve you, but 
 this systematic deception on your part will 
 make me miserable. You will be deceiving 
 uncle all the while you are away, and we shall 
 be deceiving him under his own roof. Oh ! it 
 does seem to me so shocking !" 
 
 " Then you won't consent to this secrecy, 
 Julie ; you'll split on me, eh ?" 
 
 This was said with some bitterness and re- 
 proach as well as a feeling of disappointment. 
 
 " You are angry with me, Claude, and don't
 
 120 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 seem to see that jou are asking Mary and me 
 to do wliat will degrade us botli in our own 
 estimation." 
 
 " Indeed, Julie, I slia'n't feel myself at all 
 degraded,'' observed Mary. " I can't see 
 wliat poor Claude is to do, in his terrible 
 dilemma, but keep a secret wbicli papa won't 
 allow him to tell him, except at such dreadful 
 penalties." 
 
 " Why can't Claude, Mary, do as uncle 
 wishes him, and study for the Bar ? He will 
 have abundance of time and opportunities to 
 indulge his painting taste without making it 
 everything, as if he needed to follow it as a 
 profession." 
 
 " I positively hate the Bar, Julie. Besides, 
 you heard what uncle confessed the other day, 
 that a conscience was very inconvenient to a 
 barrister, and that, in short, he could do better 
 without one." 
 
 " Oh ! Claude," exclaimed Julia, "I am 
 really surprised to hear you quote uncle in 
 such a manner. You know you almost forced
 
 THE BElDAL BAE. 121 
 
 Mm, by your crooked arguments, to say wliat 
 lie did ; and tlien, you know, too, uncle said 
 it a long while after dinner, when he was a 
 little more excited than usual with his wine." 
 
 " Come, come, Julie, that's not at all a 
 complimentary apology for uncle." 
 
 " Complimentary or not, Claude, you know 
 as well as I that it is the fact." 
 
 " Well, all I have to say is that the con- 
 science view of the matter bothers me a good 
 deal, and I should have thought that you, 
 Julie, would have sympathised with me." 
 
 " Oh ! Claude, if this matter were not so 
 serious you would force a smile from me." 
 
 " YTell, now do smile, Julie, and don't look 
 so confoundedly serious. I tell you what 
 now, I'll compromise the matter just for your 
 sake. I'll keep terms at my Inn, eat the 
 dinners, pay the fees, and all that sort of 
 thing, and do everything necessary, which is 
 not much, to put myself in the proper course 
 to be called to the Bar. I'll go in for a bar- 
 rister, JuHe; will that satisfy you?" 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " Yes, it will, and I am so glad you have 
 consented. Of course tliere will be no need 
 to say anything about your painting ; we can 
 keep that a secret." 
 
 " You will, Julie ?" 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " And you'll not even breathe a word about 
 my favourite amusement to Hawley ? You 
 know he'll be here in a day or two, perhaps 
 to-morrow, for there's nothing serious the 
 matter with him." 
 
 " No, I'll not tell Hawley. There is no 
 need to put unpleasant burdens on more 
 shoulders than have need to bear them." 
 
 ^' Unpleasant burdens, Juhe ! What is there 
 particularly burdensome or unpleasant in your 
 consenting to keep a little secret of this 
 sort ?" 
 
 " Well, there, I have promised to keep the 
 secret." 
 
 " Swear !" said Claude, quoting Hamlet, 
 and putting himself into dramatic attitude in 
 the pleasantness of his humour at having over-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 123 
 
 come his sister's scruples. " Swear !" lie 
 repeated. 
 
 " Claude !" shouted a deep, sonorous voice 
 from the bottom of the stairs. All started as 
 if the ghost of the murdered Dane were 
 echoing the imposition of the fearful oath. 
 " Claude !" repeated Mr. Threlfall, " are you 
 coming down. You'll lose your train. It 
 will take you nearly three hours such a day 
 as this to get to Dover." 
 
 " All right, uncle, I'll be with you in half a 
 second." 
 
 G 2
 
 124 THE BRIDAL BAE. ^ ,^g ^ 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CLAUDE IS IMAGINATIVE, BUT NOT AT ALL MORE 
 
 LOGICAL. 
 
 The cliange was indeed wonderful, after sucli 
 a succession of wild dreary weather with 
 wMcli the old year had taken its farewell, and 
 the new year had been ushered in. Not a 
 cloud this morning hung in the sky. The air 
 was bright, clear, and warm, and the sun lent 
 the charm of his slanting rays to animate the 
 scene. As the day advanced the effects of 
 this change began to be clearly visible. The 
 snow sunk deeper into the bosom of the earth,
 
 THE BKIDAL BAR. 125 
 
 whictL was silently absorbing it underneath, 
 and already, in some places, where, by the 
 force of the wind, it had not been suffered to 
 gather thickly, the points of the grass became 
 visible. From the roof of the house all round 
 the water had begun to fall in quick pattering 
 drops, and now it was streaming from some 
 points, and, where the slopes were more 
 inchned, every now and then huge masses of 
 snow came sliding down and falling with a 
 heavy thud on the ground below. So rapid 
 was the thaw that Mr. Threlf all and his three 
 men were engaged all the morning with their 
 spades in throwing aside the melting masses 
 from the immediate surroundings of the house, 
 to prevent the calamity of being half flooded 
 on the ground floor. 
 
 Julia and Mary were busy in making up a 
 few dainties to be despatched to the Drum, 
 and Thomas, when all was ready, was sum- 
 moned from his work in the snow to carry the 
 little basket, with a letter, and to make par- 
 ticular inquiries about the health of the patient.
 
 126 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 Claude was not much, tliouglit of in tlie 
 midst of these engrossing preparations and 
 activities; everybody was too much interested 
 and busy to feel his absence ; even Mary, who 
 had shed tears in the pain of separation from 
 her lover and companion, was giving her time 
 and thoughts to Julia, and sharing her solici- 
 tude and loving attentions to Hawley's 
 comfort. 
 
 Before Thomas returned a messenger had 
 arrived with a letter from Mr. Beesley, the 
 family doctor, conveying the most positive 
 assurances that Mr. Hawley Paget had suf- 
 fered no serious injury, and that, as he would 
 be quitting his bed in the course of the morn- 
 ing, he should take advantage of the opening 
 weather to bring Mr. Paget with him, on the 
 following morning, in his carriage to the 
 Grange. 
 
 Meanwhile Claude trudged on his way, well 
 shod in thick winter boots, his legs protected 
 by black leather gaiters, high above his knees, 
 like military jack boots, and his black leather
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 127 
 
 bag swung across Ms shoulder with a strap. 
 He wore a broad-brimmed felt Tjrolese Hat, be- 
 neath which fell his luxuriant locks of curlj 
 brown hair. His general appearance was 
 picturesque, and he looked what he intended 
 to be, a votary of the charming art. 
 
 Although the high road from Deal to Dover, 
 which passes through Walmer, is broad and 
 well defined, and the capricious tricks of a 
 snow storm cannot easily obliterate its course, 
 yet the quantity of snow which had fallen, and 
 the slushy state into which it was now setting, 
 made the walk anything but easy and agree- 
 able. By the time he was descending from 
 the Castle heights to the town, Claude was 
 more than half exhausted, and his legs and 
 feet were saturated with wet. He was not at 
 all in the mood for a railway journey, but he 
 went forward to the station, and was not in 
 the least disappointed to be informed that the 
 trains for the last few days had been unable 
 to run in consequence of the line being blocked 
 up in several places. It was expected, how-
 
 128 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 ever, that a train would start on tlie following 
 day. 
 
 The Lord Warden was no disagreeable al- 
 ternative under the circumstances, and thither 
 he directed his way, glad to divest himself of 
 his heavy wet boots, and to change his soaked 
 socks for more comfortable hose. He had 
 dined, and was now enjoying his pipe in the 
 smoking room. There were several gentle- 
 men in the room, some of whom were looking 
 over copies of a local paper, which had just 
 come from the printing office, and had been 
 laid on the tables. He was leaning back on 
 his well-cushioned seat, amusing himself with 
 the clouds of smoke, which he puffed out in 
 dense volumes, and soliloquising on the fan- 
 tastic shapes and movements which the smoke 
 assumed as it escaped from his pipe bowl. 
 
 " There's a perfect ring," he said to him- 
 self, as a well defined circlet rose steadily up- 
 ward, curiously revolving in every part on its 
 own axis. " My dear old uncle would just 
 have me as nicely rounded, tight, and com-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 129 
 
 pact as that ring. Why, it's as tliough it had 
 been cast in a mould. But look how restless 
 every part of it is, how it struggles on every 
 side to be free. Bravo ! giving in at last ; 
 there it goes, bending and involving itself, 
 and breaking away on every side. That's 
 right, assert your liberty ! Spread out ; that's 
 the way. There's a noble volume out of its 
 tiny dimensions, and now upwards. Yes, 
 that's the course, outwards and upwards into 
 the broad freedom of the welcomino^ air. Just 
 like life, life as it should be, and in the neces- 
 sity of nature, must be." 
 
 And he puffed a volley after the dissipated 
 smoke ring, as if to cheer it in its bravely 
 asserted liberty. 
 
 Claude's reverie was at that moment dis- 
 turbed by the sudden start of a gentleman in 
 the room, who, with a short, sharp, ejaculatory 
 noise, threw down the paper he was reading 
 and rose to his feet. At this unusual excite- 
 ment Claude rose too, and looked around to 
 
 G 5
 
 130 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 see tlie cause, wlieii, to Ms surprise, lie saw 
 Mr. Paget, senior, standing up with a be- 
 wildered look, in wliicli alarm was visibly de- 
 picted. 
 
 "Mr. Paget, sir," lie exclaimed, walking 
 towards Mm and holding out bis bpnd. 
 
 " Hawlej ! Claude, bave you seen my son, 
 Hawley ? " responded Mr. Paget, bis alarm 
 intensified by meeting Claude in Dover on 
 sucb a day. 
 
 " I bave, sir, I came from Walmer tbis 
 morning, be's all rigbt." 
 
 " All rigbt ! tbank God !" and Mr. Paget 
 fell back in bis seat, and drew a long inspira- 
 tion, wbicb be returned witb an audible jerk- 
 ing sort of groan, wbicb seemed to relieve 
 bim immensely. 
 
 "You are excited about sometbing, Mr. 
 Paget." 
 
 " Tbat paper, look at tbat paper," pointing 
 at tbe same time to a paragraph wbicb stated 
 tbat Mr. Hawley Paget bad been picked up in
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 131 
 
 the snoTv on the Deal-road, and had been con- 
 Yejed insensible to the Drum at Walmer. 
 There was not a word more. 
 
 "It's quite true, sir, but thej might have 
 added something more. He's all right now ; 
 don't be alarmed. I went to the Drum and 
 saw him. Beesley is taking care of him, and 
 in a couple of days he will be well enough to 
 remove to my uncle's." 
 
 " Thank God !" again ejaculated the thank- 
 ful father. 
 
 ''It was a narrow escape, indeed; but he 
 must be pretty well himself again by this time." 
 
 " You came over to break the news to me, 
 I suppose, Claude." 
 
 " Xo, sir, we didn't think it worth while to 
 alarm you, as fortunately he is all right." 
 
 " You are very good ; but those news- 
 mono;ers ! TThv, in the name of heaven, do 
 they put such paragraj^hs in their confounded 
 prints ?" 
 
 " Whoever broug^ht the news to Dover,
 
 132 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 might have troubled himself to get a little 
 more information, sir." 
 
 " He might. But I'll see the editor, and 
 give him mj opinion of his heartless careless- 
 ness. My boj you say is all right, Claude ?" 
 
 "I have seen him myself, sir, and can give 
 you the fullest assurance on that head. The 
 landlady of the Drum had him put immedi- 
 ately into a warm bath, and he soon recovered. 
 I left him in a quiet sleep. They are taking 
 every care of him, and of course they'll look 
 well after him at the Grange. I shouldn't be 
 at all surprised if he's at my uncle's to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " You have relieved me greatly, Claude. 
 It's a most fortunate circumstance that I met 
 you here in this casual way. But what are 
 you doing in Dover ?" 
 
 " I'm on my way to London, but the trains 
 are stopped, and I must stay here till to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " You'll come to my house for the night."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 133 
 
 " It's hardly worth while, thank you, as I 
 go off early to-morrow." 
 
 " No, true, besides I must have the horse 
 put to and be off to Walmer." 
 
 "It is really not necessary, Mr. Paget. 
 Hawley, I assure you, is now all right, and 
 the roads are scarcely passable. He will be 
 well looked after by my uncle and all at the 
 Grange. You can go to-morrow, you know, 
 sir, when the roads will be in a better state if 
 this thaw continues." 
 
 Mr. Paget decided on this, and was now 
 more at his ease. 
 
 " So you are going to town. Your uncle 
 tells me you have decided on the Bar as your 
 profession." 
 
 '' I can't say exactly that I have decided on 
 that profession for myself, my uncle has de- 
 cided it for me." 
 
 " A highly respectable profession, Claude ; 
 but of course up-hill work. A good many do 
 nothing at it. Connection and interest are 
 everything for a barrister. I may be of some
 
 134 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 service to you, and depend on it I will if I 
 can be." 
 
 " You are very good, sir." 
 
 " Yes, I may be able to do something for 
 you, througli my personal connections witli a 
 good many capital firms of attorneys. You 
 know Hawley is studying for tlie Bar. You'll 
 see a good deal of each, other in town. Birds 
 of a feather, you know, Claude." 
 
 The partial quotation of the familiar adage 
 was of course not remarked on by Claude, 
 though his bland smile and gentle inclination 
 of his head might be taken as a sufficiently 
 approving response. What he had heard of 
 Hawley was quite enough to convince him 
 that their respective feathers were neither of 
 the same structure nor colour, and if the two 
 birds were looked more carefully 'at by a 
 scientific ornithologist they would be authorita- 
 tively pronounced of widely different families. 
 Hawley, in his imagination, was a decorous, 
 harmless, well-conducted pigeon, dove, or 
 turtle, and he was sufficiently well acquainted
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 135 
 
 with kimself to know that he did not belonsr 
 
 o 
 
 to the group of Columbidge. He himself was 
 no pigeon, of that he was quite sure ; he had 
 more of the libertj-loving, soaring ambition of 
 the eagle in him, and, minus the savage, de- 
 structive habits of the family, he would prefer 
 to be grouped with the Falconidse. 
 
 " Hawley is of the Inner Temple, I believe, 
 Mr. Paget," thinking with himself, as he so 
 answered his friend, that that particular Inn 
 of Court was a very properly chosen one for 
 young men of Hawley's safe tendencies. 
 
 " He is, and which is to be your Inn ?" 
 
 "Gray's.'' 
 
 " Gray's ! why Gray's ? One of the Temples 
 or Lincoln's Inn would be better." 
 
 Now the comparative merits and advan- 
 tages of Inns had never been entertained by 
 Claude for the briefest moment. He had 
 decided on Gray's, because that Inn was 
 farthest from the Temple, and if it had been 
 at the northern end of that cheerful thorough-
 
 136 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 fare known as Gray's Inn Lane and Road lie 
 would have liked it all the better, as lie had 
 heard and seen quite as much as he wished of 
 Mr. Hawley Paget. 
 
 Claude again smiled blandly, and added an 
 outwardly approving bend of his head. 
 
 " A man, you know, Claude, may be called, 
 to the Bar without much expenditure of brain 
 energy, but if he wishes to succeed he must 
 work. Lectures are not worth much ; I should 
 advise you to attend chambers, and put your- 
 self under the instruction of a man in good 
 practice. It's a curious anomaly that a man 
 may eat his way like some grovelling animal, 
 or a mean grub, into a highly intellectual pro- 
 fession." 
 
 Claude again inclined his head in silence, but 
 Mr. Paget' s remarks were suggestive to him. 
 He had made up his mind to eat his way to the 
 Bar as the easier and more agreeable road, and 
 if that was grovelling, it was, at all events, 
 the most accommodating method for him.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 137 
 
 "Like ' a grub,' " tie repeated to himself. 
 *' Not a bad example that." 
 
 Now, ]Mr. Paget very probably was think- 
 ing, when he used this word " grub," of those 
 hexapod creatures called worms or maggots, 
 but Claude had always associated this word 
 with the aurelia or chrysahs, and he could not 
 help thinking of the beautiful butterfly form 
 which succeeded the "grub's " state, and the 
 free, soaring, sunshiny life which followed. 
 
 "Yes," he repeated, "not a bad example; 
 I intend to be a grub that I may become a 
 butterfly. That's the constitution and course 
 of nature." 
 
 '' " Well, Claude," said Mr. Paget, rising, 
 " success to you in your profession. I must 
 be off home, for if Mrs. Paget should be so 
 unfortunate as to see one of these confounded 
 papers she'll be in a dreadful state of alarm. 
 I must be gone, but I am heartily glad to 
 have met you in this fortunate way. Mind, 
 if the train can't start to-morrow, you come
 
 138 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 on to US. "We shall be glad to have you for a 
 day or two. Good-bye." 
 
 They shook hands and parted. 
 
 Claude filled his pipe again, and watched 
 the involutions and evolutions of the ascend- 
 ing smoke as he lay almost at full length on 
 his couch. He fancied he saw all sorts of 
 imaginary forms, pigeons, eagles, grubs, and 
 butterflies, in the fantastic gyrations of the 
 vapour he poured forth, and was soon in a 
 profound ornithological and entomological 
 reverie.
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 139 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ME. HAWLET PAGET AT THE GRAXGE. 
 
 The thaw had set in vdth as miicli energy and 
 persistence as the snow had previously des- 
 cended, and was rapidly dissolving it all over 
 the face of the country. It did not intermit 
 or slacken during the night, and by the follow- 
 ing morning all the roads were open to the 
 ordinary traffic, though heavy with the remains 
 of the half -melted snow, and saturated with 
 the moisture they were continually absorbing. 
 Hawley Paget arrived at the Grange early.
 
 140 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 along with Mr. Beesley, and was followed not 
 long after by Hs anxious father. As Claude 
 had said, he was all right, and there was no 
 further anxiety on his account. Of course 
 Julia expostulated very tenderly with him on 
 his adventurous expedition in such weather, 
 and Paget was too conscientious to allow her 
 to think that it was wholly or chiefly for the 
 pleasure of seeing her that he had hazarded 
 the venture. 
 
 " I very much wished," he said, " to have 
 the pleasure of making your brother's ac- 
 quaintance, Julia. When we last met you 
 said that you did not think it probable he 
 would remain at home much beyond a week, 
 and the week is more than expired." 
 
 " After all you have gone through, Hawley, 
 for the sake of seeing Claude," replied Julia, 
 " I wish he had remained at home a day or 
 two longer." 
 
 *' I wish he had," added Mary, " there was 
 surely no need to be off in such a frisk. I 
 am glad, Mr. Paget, you saw him at Dover,
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 141 
 
 for I was very anxious about Lim starting off 
 while the snow was so deep." 
 
 " Claude wants to be at work, Polly," 
 observed lier father. " I should have been 
 glad to have had him with us a few days 
 longer, but I thought it better not to check 
 his honourable ardour. He has taken to his 
 profession, Paget," turning towards his friend, 
 *' in earnest. "We did right to decide on the 
 Bar for him." 
 
 " He's a good deal altered, Threlfall," re- 
 turned that gentleman, " since I last saw him. 
 I hardly knew him when he iSrst accosted me 
 in the hotel, and if I had not heard his voice, 
 I don't think I should have recognized him." 
 
 " Ah, no ! he wears, you mean, such a lot 
 of hair on his head and chin. He ought to 
 cut his hair shorter and shave. I don't like 
 so much hair ; it looks like — " 
 
 Mr. Threlfall was going to say that his 
 nephew affected too much, for his taste, the 
 facial style of an artist, but he checked him- 
 self as if any allusion to gentlemen of that
 
 142 • THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 profession in connection with Claude was 
 injudicious, even in Ms absence. 
 
 " He lias grown very like his father," said 
 Mr. Paget, interrupting Mr. Threlfall, and 
 supposing him to allude to that deceased 
 gentlemen. 
 
 " Too much like him to please me," rephed 
 Mr. Threlfall. " It's his long hair, and mus- 
 taches and beard. You must get him to shave, 
 Hawley, like yourself, and cut off those curls 
 of his. He can't wear all that hair with his 
 
 Wig. 
 
 "Well, I should think not sir," said Haw- 
 ley, "it scarcely accords with professional 
 etiquette. It might do for some men — an 
 artist for example — who likes everything 
 natural better than artificial. I'm half in- 
 clined to think that artists have a good deal 
 of affectation, and are somewhat vain of their 
 personal appearance, Mr. Threlfall." 
 
 Mr. Threlfall winced at this mention of an 
 artist, and Claude's comparison to one, even 
 externally.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 143 
 
 " Of course it is not etiquette, Hawley. 
 You are older tlian he, and I hope you'll use 
 the liberty of your friendship with him to 
 induce him to conform to the usages of his 
 profession in this respect. You'll greatly 
 oblige me when you meet in town to say that 
 I very much wish him to do so. Be frank 
 and round with him. Tell him it won't do ; 
 he'll injure his professional prospects. Fancy 
 him in his legal wig I Eidiculous, Hawley, 
 absolutely ridiculous !" 
 
 Hawley Paget promised to use the privileges 
 of friendship, and to be frank and round with 
 the erratic Claude. 
 
 Mr. Threlfall knew that he had an excellent 
 ally in the person of his young friend, who 
 was not only very frank, but extremely up- 
 right and conscientious. A promise with Mr. 
 Hawley Paget was as sacred as an oath, and, 
 therefore, Claude would be sure to have his 
 uncle's message, and the benefit of Hawley's 
 personal advice on the subject, so soon as he
 
 144 THE BETDAL BAE. 
 
 had the honour of forming the acquaintance 
 of that young gentleman. 
 
 Claude, as we have seen, had only seen Mr. 
 Hawley Paget in the blankets, and the sweet 
 serenity of his slumbers ; but if he had seen 
 him awake and dressed, the very look of that 
 exact young gentleman would have sufficed 
 him before he opened his lips. He would have 
 forsworn him on the spot and for ever, as 
 his intimate personal friend and counsellor. 
 
 Hawley never strayed outside the pale 
 of the strictest propriety, either morally or 
 vestmentally. He was rather tall and slim, 
 very upright in his outer as well as his inner 
 man ; fair, his light hair rather closely cut and 
 carefully dressed, his face as close shaven and 
 clean as a woman's, with the exception of a 
 very moderate pair of light brown whiskers, 
 which were brushed carefully forward. He 
 dressed always in black, somewhat clerical in 
 cut, especially in the length of the skirts of 
 his surtout, and was never known to appear
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 145 
 
 in liglit trousers, not even in the hottest 
 weather and the height of summer. He spoke 
 with cultivated ease, but very leisurely, as if 
 "weighing the moral worth of his words as they 
 came to his lips. He was not fluent, though 
 he did not lack words for the suitable expres- 
 sion of his thoughts and feelings ; he a little 
 hesitated in his utterance now and then, as if 
 he were sitting in solemn judgment over his 
 thoughts before he allowed them the incarna- 
 tion of speech. People instinctively felt in 
 conversation with him that he said what he 
 meant, and meant what he said, and hence all 
 his acquaintances held him in the greatest re- 
 spect. Mr. Hawley Paget would probably 
 become a distinguished and successful man in 
 his profession as a barrister, but he could 
 hardly ever be an orator, for he was much too 
 conscientious for those impassioned flights of 
 rhetoric which sparkle before and dazzle the 
 bewildered understandings of men, and rattle 
 in kettle-drum fashion on the strained tym- 
 panums of the popular ears. He would as 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 soon pick a man's pocket as hood- wink his 
 understanding by anything merely ad captan- 
 dum, Mr. Hawley Paget was, in short, a 
 highly cultivated, equably serene, scrupulously 
 conscientious, and eminently respectable gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 ' Such a man can, of course, fall in love with 
 a young lady of kindred principles and tastes, 
 and in falling in love with Julia Threlfall, he 
 had met with one who was in some, and the 
 most important, respects the counterpart 
 and resemblance of himself. 
 
 Strictly speaking, he did not, as the phrase 
 is, fall in love at all. Mr. Hawley Paget never 
 fell anywhere or at any time, except in such 
 an unavoidable case as a snow storm, and 
 then, if the fact could have been known, it 
 would have been found that he had not fallen, 
 but quietly and decorously sunk down into his 
 treacherous slumbers. 
 
 No, he did not fall in love with Julia, but 
 walked uprightly and deliberately into the 
 blissful condition of acceptance, with which
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 147 
 
 that young lady had favourably entertained 
 his polite advances. He had candidly avowed, 
 not his passion, but his sentiments, with re- 
 gard to her, and, when her approval was dis- 
 tinctlv sigTiified, he had sealed the contract, 
 as all lovers do, with a kiss. But it was not 
 a kiss of rapture, as though he had lost his 
 head with his heart. There was nothing 
 ecstatic, sudden, and violent, in Mr. Hawley's 
 osculatory action. Julia knew the kiss was 
 coming, and had ample time to dispose herself 
 for its arrival, for it came, as everything else 
 came from him, calmly, and in carefully mea- 
 sured progress, and reposed on the cheek with 
 a gentleness and dehcacy that scarcely left an 
 impression. But that kiss on the right cheek 
 was quite as genuine as many that are more 
 boisterous and prolonged full on the lips of 
 ladies, and was a seal of affection that was 
 meant to be as bindino: as a lesral document. 
 Mr. Hawley Paget loved as nature and his 
 special culture enabled him to love, and, if it 
 was methodical, it was certainly not a love 
 
 H 2
 
 148 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 of wMch he liad any moral reason to be 
 ashamed. 
 
 The endearments of his intercourse with 
 Juha never went beyond an occasional kiss, at 
 considerably long intervals for lovers of the 
 ordinary type, and the gentle and tender 
 modulations of his voice when addressing her. 
 He never indulged in the common-place 
 epithets of pet, chick, darling, et hoc omne 
 genus, " Light of my eyes," " divinity of my 
 heart's worship," '' angel of my soul's adora- 
 tion," " sole reason of my existence," and 
 flights of this rapturous sort were much too 
 impassioned and extravagant for his innate 
 sense of fitness, sobriety, and respectability. 
 " Dear " and " love " were the extreme of his 
 amorous allowances, and the only variations 
 from the more uniform address of her Chris- 
 tian name, which was always as it had been 
 baptismally given to her, Julia — never in one 
 single instance familiarly Julie. 
 
 Mr. Hawley Paget was certainly a very 
 great contrast to Mr. Claude Threlfall, and
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 149 
 
 their differences were not merely superficial 
 and tegnmentarj. Eelations they might be- 
 come, for that matter was rather in Miss Julia 
 Threlfall's than in Mr. Claude Threlfall's 
 hands ; but whether they could ever become 
 friends was a very problematical question. 
 Perhaps, if Mr. Hawley Paget had known as 
 much of Mr. Claude Threlfall as this latter 
 gentleman knew of him, he would never have 
 imperilled his life in the way he did for the 
 sake of an introduction. Julia had not been 
 communicative to her lover on the subject of 
 her brother's personal tastes and character. 
 Probably she thought that they had better 
 find each other out in the ordinary course of 
 personal intimacy, and settle the question of 
 friendship for themselves. She was a prudent 
 girl, and her non-interference in the matter 
 was no doubt a very judicious abstinence on 
 her part. 
 
 " Julia," said Mr. Hawley Paget to his be- 
 loved, " I have omitted to thank you for your 
 very kind attentions to me when I was at the
 
 150 
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 Drum. Let me beg you to accept my thanks 
 
 now. 
 
 J J 
 
 " Oil ! don't speak of obligations and tbanks, 
 Hawley ; I am so thankful that you are quite 
 well." 
 
 As she said this, Julia looked up lovingly, 
 and with moistened eyes into her lover's face. 
 
 Mr. Hawley Paget bowed one of his politest 
 and most decorous acknowledgments.
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 151 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 JULIA AND MART THRELFALL. 
 
 The domestic atmosphere of Walmer Grange 
 had become as mucli changed, and the general 
 domestic consciousness as completely revolu- 
 tionized, as what was passing outside in the 
 feeling and face of nature, now that Claude 
 Threlfall had taken his departure from his 
 uncle's roof and Mr. Hawley Paget had taken 
 up his residence there for a day or two. Ko- 
 body, with one exception, now felt snowed up 
 in any sense whatever. The sense of restraint 
 had passed away with the snow and the
 
 152 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 absent Claude. EverytHng was open, candid, 
 and unreserved now. Julia felt a pleasant 
 sensation of relief, and was mucli more herself 
 and at lier domestic ease tlian slie had hitherto 
 been while her brother was at home. Mary, 
 who was not altogether insensible to the 
 feeling of relief, discovered fewer signs of 
 pleasure at the change. The atmosphere was 
 in some respects agreeable, but she had a very 
 lively and slightly shivering feeling as if the 
 snow which had been outside for so many 
 days had at last found its way inside. Had 
 she been consulted on the propriety of the 
 change before it occurred she would have 
 unhesitatingly said that she preferred things 
 should be as they were. Claude certainly did 
 keep her in a rather high pitch of nervousness, 
 and taxed rather severely her ingenuity and 
 resources to keep up appearances of candour 
 and straightforwardness, but then there was 
 something deliciously sensational in the under- 
 hand manoeuvres by which she was able to 
 keep a proper face on matters ; and for this
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 153 
 
 reason whkt Tras underliand was thorougMy 
 to her private taste, mucli more so than tlie 
 dull proprieties wliich floated so evenly and 
 transparently on the surface. Hawley was, 
 it must be confessed, a very good young man, 
 it was impossible not to respect Mm very 
 highly; but then Claude was such a dear 
 rogue, though it must be acknowledged that 
 he did tell a great many fibs. She couldn't 
 quite understand how it was, but she did like 
 Claude very much, and was very sorry he had 
 gone. However, she ought not to be selfish, 
 for Julie liked Hawley, and she ought to be 
 glad he had come for Julie's sake. Claude 
 and Hawley were not at all alike ; but it 
 wouldn't do for young men to be exactly alike, 
 of course not, for then there would be no 
 opportunity for choice, and young ladies' 
 tastes differed. She was glad Julie liked 
 Hawley, and she would try and like him for 
 Julie's sake, but she preferred Claude very 
 much. Of course, that was a matter of taste, 
 
 H 5
 
 154 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 but still she did like Claude, and was very, 
 very sorry lie had gone away* 
 
 Mr. Hawley Paget was an Oxford man and 
 an M.A. He was studious and systematic in 
 his reading, and always gave the mornings to 
 hard work. After breakfast, therefore, he 
 withdrew to the library, and after running his 
 eye along the shelves in search of a Livy or 
 Thucydides, neither of which he was so for- 
 tunate as to meet with on Mr. Threlf all's 
 shelves, he took down a work of Hallam's, 
 which engaged his undivided attention till 
 lunch time. 
 
 Neither Julia nor Mary intruded on him, 
 for they knew he always preferred his morn- 
 ings to himself. Mr. Threlfall also respected 
 the studious sanctity of those matutinal hours, 
 and gave up the library to his visitor. Mr. 
 Paget senior had returned to Dover, and Julia 
 and Mary were sitting alone in the morning 
 room, the former at some species of needle- 
 work, and the latter at her landscape painting,
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 155 
 
 which she was now permitted to return to, 
 but did not enjoy nearly so much as when she 
 worked away on the sly in dear Claude's bed- 
 room. 
 
 " I say, Julie," called out Mary, as she was 
 working away, "what a very learned man 
 your flame is, isn't he ?" 
 
 " He's fond of reading," was the reply. 
 
 " I wonder what he's reading ? Papa has 
 not many profound books in his library. I'll 
 be bound he has picked out the driest book 
 on the shelves." 
 
 " Hawley's a lawyer, you know, Mary." 
 
 " But there are no law books there, I'm 
 sure, now that amusing work of Blackstone's 
 is packed up for Claude's use," and she 
 lauo;hed at the idea of Blackstone beino^ in 
 Claude's portmanteau. 
 
 '' Hawley will find something else to inter- 
 est him, I daresay," returned Julia. 
 
 " Something to interest him, Julie ! I should 
 have thought he would have found somebody 
 to interest him under this roof/' and her eyes
 
 156 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 twinkled with fun as she looked up at her 
 cousin. 
 
 Julia's eyes were fixed on her work, and 
 did not notice the merry humour with which 
 she was being regarded, and she made no 
 reply. Mary went on with her work too, 
 saying something about her picture, which 
 did not quite give her satisfaction. 
 
 " I like more colour and warmth in the 
 foreground. The colour is cold here — too 
 cold, don't you think so, Julie ?" at the 
 same time turning her picture towards her 
 cousin. 
 
 "I don't see any fault to find with it, 
 Mary." 
 
 " Don't you, dear ?" and again she took up 
 her brush, charged with vandyke brown, in 
 which she had mixed some burnt sienna, to 
 enrich and give it warmth. 
 
 " Hawley's very clever, Julie," she again 
 said, after a brief pause. " I shouldn't be at 
 all surprised if one of these days he should be 
 a judge ; he'd make a capital judge."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 157 
 
 " Do you think so ?" was the short response 
 to this admiring observation. 
 
 " I do, indeed ; he's so serious, isn't he ? 
 Of course, a judge ought to be serious." 
 
 " He is rather serious." 
 
 " Oh ! very. But I should think that even 
 judges have some fun in them. There are 
 some judges, you know, that don't wear 
 the black cap ever; Chancery judges, you 
 know, Julie. How they must be tickled with 
 the witnesses sometimes. Oh ! they must 
 laugh sometimes, I'm sure, even when they're 
 in court ; and when they're out, taking their 
 wine, you know, after dinner, I'll be bound 
 they crack jokes and are as merry as pipers. 
 There now ! look at the picture now ; that's 
 an improvement, isn't it ? It throws all the 
 cold greys into the distant back ground. I 
 never can draw figures well, or I'd put some 
 humour in the scene. Claude, had he been 
 here, could have done that nicely for me." 
 
 " I think figures would have spoilt your 
 picture. I like the repose in it."
 
 158 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " Oil ! I do like a little life and fun, Julie." 
 
 Again the two young ladies were at tlieir 
 respective occupations, working on in silence. 
 Mary never could be silent long together, so 
 she again broke it with an enthusiastic re- 
 mark on Mr. Hawley Paget' s personal moral 
 excellence. 
 
 " Hawley must be very good, Julie." 
 
 Julia returned no reply. 
 
 " You know, dear," continued Mary, " I 
 mean religious — very religious. A barrister, 
 and especially a judge, can't be too religious, 
 can he ?" 
 
 " Everybody ought to be religious, Mary, 
 just as everybody ought to have common 
 sense, and right principles and feelings." 
 
 " Of course, dear ; I'm sure Hawley is re- 
 ligious. You know, he has Claude's room, 
 and I'm obliged to go in there sometimes for 
 my things in the wardrobe, and I saw this 
 morning a book on the dressing table, just 
 where Claude used to place Blackstone, when 
 he had done with him. I just peeped into it
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 159 
 
 to see what it was, and found it was all 
 Greek — I suppose the Grreek Testament." 
 " Hawlej is a good Grreek sdiolar." 
 " I suppose so, and a very good man, too. 
 I've often wondered, Julie, why good people 
 are so very serious. Now, my idea is that 
 when people are good they ought to be cheer- 
 ful. Our rector, you know, at the old church 
 is, of course, a very good man, but I don't 
 think I ever once saw him serious ; I mean, 
 you know, gloomy. When he laughs, he does 
 laugh, don't he ? Every bit of his jolly old 
 face joins in the general merriment. I do like 
 to see people laugh, not smirk, you know ; I 
 like them to laugh till they shake and hold 
 their sides, as if they expected they were going 
 to crack. With some people you laugh till 
 your eyes water, and you can't keep your seat 
 on your chair. E-eal hearty people are not 
 afraid of laughing, are they ? They don't 
 seem to be always thinking of their teeth as if 
 they didn't like to expose a cavity. Has
 
 160 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 Hawley good teeth, Julie? I never could 
 see into his mouth." 
 
 "Well, really, Mary, I can't answer your 
 question. He doesn't show his teeth like 
 some people." 
 
 " No, he doesn't ; I wish he'd laugh, I should 
 like to see. Good teeth are a great ornament 
 to the face, whether of man or woman." 
 
 After a while, Mary began to soliloquize 
 over her picture. 
 
 " I suppose some persons would call that 
 now a smiling landscape ; it certainly is very 
 quiet and peaceful — ^yes, and pretty, too, 
 though I have done it. I wonder what an 
 out-and-out laughing landscape would be ? I 
 should like to be able to do a laughing land- 
 scape, a picture which would make a sensation 
 to look at, thoroughly stir one up, and make 
 one feel merry all over. I suppose that no 
 nature but human nature ever laughs. I say, 
 Julie," again addressing her cousin, " what 
 a very polite man Hawley is, isn't he, dear?"
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 161 
 
 " Hawley is a gentleman, Mary." 
 
 " Quite ; I don't think I ever met sucli a 
 gentlemanly man in my life." 
 
 " Yon compliment him very highly, Mary.' 
 
 " "Well, I must honestly say that I think he 
 is the politest man I ever met. How par- 
 ticular he was to acknowledge your attentions 
 to him when he was at the Drum ! And when 
 you would have him spare his thanks, and 
 looked up in his face as if you were so grate- 
 ful that he hadn't died in the snow, what a 
 very polite bow he gave you ! I never saw 
 such pohteness in my life." 
 
 Julia now raised her eyes, and they met 
 those of her cousin, which expressed a good 
 deal of dry humour as well as admiration. 
 She blushed slightly as she replied — 
 
 " You are very observant of Hawley, 
 Mary." 
 
 "TVhy, yes, of course, dear; he's to be 
 yom^ husband and my first cousin. Do you 
 know, Julie, I quite expected that he was 
 going to kiss you at that moment. I'm sure,
 
 162 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 if I had been he, I should have kissed you 
 when you put up such a dear, loving, tearful 
 look in my face. I did so want to see him 
 kiss you, Julie. Did he ever kiss you, dear ?" 
 
 " How you have been talking about Hawley 
 all the morning, Mary ! Why has he filled 
 your head so this morning ?" 
 
 " Julie, dear, did he ever kiss you ? Now, 
 do tell me, there's a dear." 
 
 " Of course he did." 
 
 " Whep ? Where ? How often ?" 
 
 "Bless me, Polly, what a lot of curious 
 questions !" 
 
 " Well, answer the last ; how often ?" 
 
 " What nonsense, Mary !" 
 
 "I'm sure you can remember. Twelve 
 times, twenty, fifty times ?" 
 
 " How am I to remember ? How absurd of 
 
 you !" 
 
 " I mean to have an answer, because I'm 
 quite sure you know, Julie. I shall begin 
 with ten and go upwards. Has he kissed you 
 ten times ?"
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 16^ 
 
 " How absurd, Mary ! Well, no." 
 
 " Of course more. Shall I go up by tens 
 or fives ?" 
 
 " Oh, Mary, what nonsense of you ; 
 neither." 
 
 " Neither, eh ? not so many as ten. Kine 
 times ?" 
 
 " I tell you, no." 
 
 '* Eight ?" 
 
 " No; there, that will do." 
 
 " He has kissed you then seven times. I'm 
 to understand seven times ?" 
 
 " I didn't say so. Do be quiet and cease 
 your ridiculous questions." 
 
 " Come, come, Julie ; you don't like to 
 answer. I verily believe he has never kissed 
 you at all." 
 
 " I'm sure he has," said Julia, indignantly. 
 
 " Once, then, when you accepted him." 
 
 *' Of course he kissed me then." 
 
 " Has he ever kissed you since ?" 
 
 Julia was now somewhat vexed with her
 
 164 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 cousin, and tlie blush on her cheeks deepened. 
 She did not answer. 
 
 " He has only kissed you once, I see. There, 
 didn't I say that I was confident you knew 
 how often ? Of course you could remember 
 once," and Mary repeated recitativo the fol- 
 lowing lines : — 
 
 " ' When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past — 
 For years fleet away with the wings of the dove — 
 The dearest remembrance will still be the last, 
 Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.' 
 
 "The first kiss of love, Julie! At all 
 events you have your ' sweetest memorial,' 
 haven't you dear? I wonder when you'll 
 have the second. It's so long coming it will 
 be almost like another first. At this rate 
 what a lot of sweet memorials you'll have, 
 won't you ?" 
 
 Julia did not correct her cousin, but looked 
 very much annoyed. 
 
 " Don't be vexed with me, Julie, but indeed 
 I shouldn't like such a lover as Hawley; I 
 shouldn't indeed, dear. Why, what is the
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 165 
 
 man made of, I wonder ? If I liked him as 
 you do, I'd soon set matters right; if he 
 didn't kiss me, I'd kiss him. I'd soon teach 
 him the use and worth of kisses between lovers. 
 Why don't jou kiss him ?" 
 
 Julia was a very affectionate girl, and Hked 
 to be kissed and to kiss like other affectionate 
 girls, and she did feel that Hawley was very 
 sparing in his loving demonstrativeness. She 
 had been very strongly impelled to kiss him 
 when he came in with Mr. Beesley from the 
 Drum, but he did not seem to invite it, and 
 she naturally shrunk from the tender 
 famiharity. She had never once kissed him, 
 and was now getting disciplined in the 
 abstinence from kissinpf on either side.
 
 166 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MAEY THEELPALL BOEES HAWLET PAGET. 
 
 *'Mt library, Hawley," said Mr. Threlfall, 
 after dinner, " is not very ricli in your special 
 literature. Claude lias all my law books. 
 I'm afraid you found nothing to your taste 
 tMs morning." 
 
 " I never read law in vacations,'* replied 
 Hawley, " I change the occupations of my 
 mind with a change of air. No, Mr. Threlfall, 
 I didn't look for law books, I thought I might 
 have found some of Claude's scholastic re- 
 creations among the books. I suppose his
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 167 
 
 Greek and Latin anthors are under Ms own 
 lock and key somewhere ?" 
 
 " Most likely," rejoined Mr. Threlfall. 
 
 Mary tkouglit witli a smile to herself that 
 if they ever had an existence they were under 
 lock and key, and were not at all likely to be 
 disturbed. 
 
 " I like to keep up my classical reading in 
 vacations," continued Hawley. *' Livy and 
 Thucydides are my favourite authors, especi- 
 ally the latter. I greatly admire the character 
 of Thucydides. He was a serious, earnest 
 man, and, with his great abilities, this lofty 
 moral tone of his mind fitted him to produce 
 the history which we all so greatly admire for 
 its exact truthfulness. He never seems to 
 use a word unnecessarily." 
 
 Mary thought she had now discovered the 
 model on which Hawley himself had been 
 formed. Thucydides must have been a very 
 great and good man, but she wondered if he 
 had ever been in love. She would like to 
 know how Thucydides made love.
 
 168 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " Was Thucydides ever married, Hawley ?" 
 slie asked. 
 
 " I am not quite sure on tliat point, and can 
 hardly venture to speak positively. He liad 
 considerable property, and Marcellinus says 
 that lie obtained it by marrying a wealthy 
 lady of Thrace. This may have been the fact, 
 but it is disputed." 
 
 " It's not worth disputing about, is it Haw- 
 ley ? How learned men do bother themselves, 
 and wrangle over matters which are over and 
 done with thousands of years ago, don't they ? 
 "What matters whether Thucydides was married 
 or not ?" 
 
 " It does not much matter, Mary, but you 
 asked the question." 
 
 "Ah, so I did," she replied, slightly colour- 
 ing at her own inconsistency, and a little roused 
 by Hawley' s pertinent rejoinder, " but I was 
 thinking of something else when I asked the 
 question. I should like to have seen Thucy- 
 dides in love, Hawley, shouldn't you?" 
 
 " I should have taken no particular inter est.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 169 
 
 Mary, in a matter so purely private and per- 
 sonal." 
 
 " Oh ! sliould jou not ? ISTow I should. 
 Such a very proper person as Thucydides must 
 have been quite a pattern to all lovers to come 
 after him." 
 
 Hawley did not condescend to reply to this 
 observation. Probably he thought Mary a 
 little too frivolous, as he directed his attention 
 to Julia. 
 
 *' I have not as yet been so fortunate, Julia, 
 as to meet Tvith that book I was speaking 
 about when I last had the pleasure of seeing 
 you." 
 
 " Have you not, Hawley ?" replied Julia. 
 " I forget its name." 
 
 " Longinus' work, UepX {^-v/rouc." 
 
 " What book is that, Hawley ?" interposed 
 Mary, who was not at all disposed to be passed 
 by in this cool, indifferent kind of way. 
 " Peri- what, did you say ?" 
 
 " I referred to the ' Treatise on the Sublime,' 
 by Dionysius Cassius Longinus. The work, 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 unfortunately, is a fragment, though the greater 
 part has come down to us." 
 • " Oh ! indeed ! " answered Mary, " the book, 
 then, is not English ?" 
 
 "It is not ; it is written by a Greek in his 
 vernacular. There's an excellent edition by 
 Weiske. It was reprinted in London, and I 
 very much wish to possess a copy." 
 
 " What's it all about ?" inquired Mary. 
 
 " Oratory, poetry, and matters of taste 
 generally ; the style is excellent, and the 
 observations of Longinus on these subjects 
 are very penetrating and elevated." 
 
 "Oh! indeed!" ejaculated Mary again, 
 "all about the belles -letters, what's called 
 poHte literature." 
 
 " Something of that species of literature." 
 
 " Talking of poHteness, Hawley," she said, 
 bluntly, " don't you think that even polite- 
 ness may be carried a little too far, and be 
 sometimes out of place ?" 
 
 " Certainly not, Mary, certainly not. Polite- 
 ness is never in excess and out of place ; of
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 171 
 
 course I refer to genuine, not superficial 
 politeness." 
 
 " I don't know that exactly. Politeness is 
 all very nice, and proper, and pleasant, and 
 all that sort of thing ; but if everybody was 
 so very polite the world would seem to me 
 like a big drawing-room or dancing academy." 
 
 " The courtesies of life," replied Paget, 
 " are very agreeable to people of taste and re- 
 finement." 
 
 "So they are, but they are not hearty, are 
 they ? I do hke something hearty ; warm, 
 you know, even if it should happen to be a 
 little rough and awkward. Don't you like 
 something hearty, Julie darling ? I know you 
 do, you dear old crony." 
 
 Julia scarcely knew what to answer to this 
 playful sally of her cousin's ; and she was 
 somewhat disturbed by Mary's course of re- 
 marks, which she knew were meant for some- 
 thing like a poke at her lover. 
 
 '' You're a merry girl, Mary," she said, 
 smiling. 
 
 I 2
 
 172 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " And sometliing sensible, too, Julie. Now 
 only fancy, Julie, a couple of lovers carrying 
 on their little private and personal affair, as 
 Hawley calls it, according to tlie strict rules 
 of drawing-room politeness ! Why, the thing's 
 ridiculous, isn't it, pet ? Taste and refine- 
 ment are surely quite consistent with those 
 little delicate intimacies which one wouldn't 
 wish to see exhibited in a drawing-room. You 
 don't know Claude, Hawley, but do you know 
 he doesn't always take his hat off when he 
 meets me, and come bending and bowing and 
 scraping like a dancing master. If he did 
 wouldn't I give it him ? I'd teach him the 
 rules of etiquette between lovers ! I'd shake 
 him up ; but there's no need of that, he's 
 more disposed to do that sort of thing to me. 
 And yet Claude is very polite, for all that." 
 
 Mr. Threlfall laughed, as did also Julia. 
 
 " You and Claude, Polly, are well 
 matched," said the former, — " a couple of 
 merry romps." 
 
 " To be sure we are, papa. I like a good
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 173 
 
 romp now and then, especially witli Claude. 
 He has got such a lot of fun in him." 
 
 " Talking of Longinus," said Paget, turn- 
 ing the conversation, " there's a copy of him 
 in the Bodleian, ]\Ir. Threlfall; I once began 
 a translation of him into English." 
 
 Mary was very talkative this evening, and 
 would stick to her favourite topic, as Hawley 
 did to his. 
 
 " I think, Hawley, we want a good many 
 people translated into English, genuine, frank, 
 hearty English, you know. There are people 
 who have spoken their mother tongue all 
 through life, and mixed a good deal in society, 
 and seen not a little of the world, who are as 
 provokingly stiff and crabbed and difficult to 
 be understood as a dead language. Xow, 
 Hawley, if you will leave Longinus and trans- 
 late, or rather transform, some of these 
 obscure, precise people, you would be doing 
 some real social service." 
 
 Hawley showed immistakable signs that he 
 was being bored by Miss Mary, and Juha
 
 174 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 noticed it. Site began to be alarmed for 
 wliat Mary miglit say next in her wicked, 
 rampant mood, and rising from tlie table 
 suggested that they sbould withdraw and 
 leave tlie gentlemen till tea time. This move- 
 ment was Miss Mary's duty, as her father's 
 daughter sitting at the head of the table, but 
 whether she thought she had said quite 
 enough, and might, if she remained longer, 
 speak a little too personally, she arose 
 promptly and with apparent perception of the 
 propriety, to lead the way out of the room, 
 Mr. Hawley Paget politely holding the door, 
 and bowing very politely indeed as the two 
 ladies passed out. 
 
 '' I really couldn't help it, Julie," said Mary, 
 when they were together in the drawing-room. 
 '' Hawley has been in my head all day long, 
 and I was determined to give him a bit of my 
 mind. He wants shaking up." 
 
 " Pray don't shake him up any more, Polly, 
 when he comes in to tea. Promise me you 
 won't talk in that way any more to-night."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 175 
 
 " Well, I Tvon't ; but I'm just in the mood, 
 and I should so like to say just a little 
 more." 
 
 " Do oblige me, and don't." 
 
 " Well, I won't. I wonder whether he'll 
 kiss you to-night before he goes to bed." 
 
 " What nonsense you do talk, Polly !" 
 
 ''Well, he .ought to after all I've said to 
 him." 
 
 Mary kept her promise to her cousin, and 
 said nothing more, when the gentlemen were 
 summoned to tea, that could be construed as 
 at all personal to Hawley Paget. He, on his 
 side, seemed to experience a feeling of relief 
 that she rarely spoke at all for the rest of the 
 evening, and never once addressed herself to 
 him. The fact was that Mary was not in the 
 least conscious of any reaction in her thoughts 
 and feelings, for she had much ado to restrain 
 herself from her former volubility on more 
 than one provoking occasion, but she had 
 pledged her word to her cousin, and she could 
 not, therefore, recall it. It was her turn now
 
 176 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 to be the victim of passive irritation, and slie 
 had to exert the most forcible self-control to 
 make it even endurable. Paget could not 
 have been more studiously polite and obser- 
 vant of the rules of etiquette than if he had 
 been the veriest stranger, introduced to them 
 for the first time that evening. He sat on his 
 chair inflexibly upright, only relaxing his 
 rigidity by occasional slight inclinations of 
 the upper part of his manhood whenever he 
 addressed himself to Julia, or received a reply 
 from her. His attentions vi^ere certainly 
 special to Julia, but they were essentially re- 
 spectful, and not in the least vivacious. The 
 conversation chiefly turned on poetry and the 
 drama, on which he made several judicious 
 and appreciative remarks. The drama, he 
 knew, was Julia's passionate admiration, and 
 he talked to her on the subject as if he had 
 been her professor of English literature, 
 greatly to her entertainment and edification. 
 Oh ! how Mary did repent of her promise that 
 evening. Shakspeare's play of " As you Hke
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 177 
 
 it " was noticed among other of the works of 
 the immortal bard, and Paget dwelt much on 
 the character of the melancholy Jaqnes. Mary 
 was sick of Jaques and Touchstone, and 
 wanted to talk of Orlando and Eosalind. 
 What a fine opportunity was here to say 
 something to the point ! What a number of 
 delicate little incidents was afforded her for 
 exquisite expatiation on the subject that was 
 uppermost in her thoughts. Oh ! the binding, 
 chafing misery of a promise ! Her h^ritation 
 at her enforced silence was so great, that she 
 put all the sugar due to the four cups into 
 one, and, with curious inconsistency, into 
 Hawley's cup of tea, who only took an in- 
 finitesimally small quantity of that article, but 
 was much too polite to notice the excess with 
 which he had been accidentally favoured. 
 Juha, who liked to taste the sugar in her tea, 
 was not at all aware of its entire absence from 
 the beverage, so wrapt was she in the learned 
 discourse of her admirer. ]\Ir. Threlfall was 
 the only one who detected the omission^ and 
 
 I 5
 
 178 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 lie bluntly told Ms daughter she had forgotten 
 the sugar as he returned his cup to be re- 
 plenished. 
 
 Then the conversation, which was carried on 
 wholly between Hawley and Julia, turned to 
 the subject of fiction, and the comparative 
 merits o£ Thackeray and Dickens. Mr. Paget 
 quite agreed with Julia that fiction had a claim 
 to a distinguished place in polite literature, 
 and that a highly civilized community de- 
 manded the peculiar entertainment and in- 
 struction it alone afforded. He did not at all 
 agree with those who maintained that fiction 
 should be entertaining only. Fiction, he said, 
 photographed the more delicate and intimate 
 experiences of human life, and enabled the 
 master of his art to exhibit the play and 
 conflict of the passions. But he denounced 
 energetically the abuse of this species of litera- 
 ture. He admired but very few writers of 
 fiction, because they nearly all fell into the 
 egregious and demorahsing error of construct- 
 ing their plots on the monstrous assumption
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 179 
 
 that human life was always mixed up inti- 
 mately with the greatest villainies, and that 
 the violation of all the prohibitions of the 
 Decalogne was a common social fact. He 
 thought there was abundant scope for fiction 
 in the varieties of human character, out of 
 which incidents of the liveliest interest could 
 be imagined to arise, illustrating intellectual 
 and moral contrasts and conflicts. Dickens 
 was in many respects admirable, but he was 
 unquestionably to be blamed, with his won- 
 derful powers of insight and delineation, for 
 condescending to use such base and revolting 
 materials. Most of Dickens' creations were 
 rather caricatures than characters. Thackeray 
 he considered had struck the true vein of 
 fiction, and was decidedly truer to nature, 
 and more to his taste. 
 
 Mary listened to this lengthened discourse 
 of Paget's, which he illustrated by many ex- 
 amples, with some interest, but he afforded 
 her so many admirable opportunities of inter- 
 jecting something of her own, in the ad
 
 180 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 Jiominem way, that she could not forgive her- 
 self her rashness in promising to hold her 
 tongue for the rest of that night. But she 
 would have her turn next day, that she would. 
 " As you like it" was a most interesting play, 
 and she would return to it on the following 
 evening with a vengeance, and supply some 
 grave omissions in the quite overlooked per- 
 sonages of the love-sick Orlando, and the 
 beautiful Rosalind. And wouldn't she ran- 
 sack her memory for what she had read in 
 Dickens and Thackeray, and dear old Walter 
 Scott ! Hawley should have it thick to- 
 morrow night, yes, and at dinner too, for she 
 had a lot to say. The next morning, how- 
 ever, Mr. Hawley Paget politely requested the 
 loan of Mr. Threlfall's carriage to convey him 
 to Dover immediately after breakfast ; and, 
 to the unspeakable chagrin of Mary, she saw 
 her victim depart after taking a tenderly polite 
 leave of Julia, which, though tender, was 
 much too exquisitely polite to include a kiss.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 181 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MOEEY MAGUIEE SEES A WAY OUT OF THE FIX. 
 
 It must not be supposed tliat Claude Threlfall 
 began liis career in London in the enjoyment 
 of perfect moral complacency. His conscience 
 certainly was of a very elastic quality, and 
 bore a considerable amount of pressure, but 
 it was not absolutely crushed. He both 
 thouofht and felt at times, in the solitude of 
 his own reflections, and neither his thinking 
 nor feehng was dissociated from an inward 
 sense of shame and self-reproach. But it
 
 182 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 was wonderful how this inward moral blushing 
 would pass away like an evanescent shadow 
 from the face of his better self; and how 
 prompt were his apologies and self -justifica- 
 tions to take off the keen edge of the whispered 
 rebuke. And it must, in moral honesty and 
 candour, be admitted that he did have some- 
 thing to say for himself in arrest of a severe 
 judgment. Was he not being forced into a 
 groove in which it was against his nature, 
 taste, fitness, and everything else in him, to 
 run ? In short, was he not urged, by the 
 cruellest of goads, to perform an impossibility ? 
 How could he deny his own nature and hold 
 back, with the feeble, fragile cords of an 
 artificial will, the upward soarings of his strong 
 aspiring genius ? An artist in his very mould, 
 impulses, aptitudes, how could he turn to the 
 drudgery of dry, dusty law ? 
 
 " D the law !" he said, in the excitement 
 
 of his indignation at the injustice which was 
 being done him, and when he was feeling most 
 sensitively the moral disquietude of his unfor-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 183 
 
 tunate position. " D the law ! It has 
 
 damned a good many in its time, d it !" 
 
 Claude Threlfall had been somewhat 
 '' exercised," as the strict Scotch term is, in 
 his moral reflections as he was busy emptying 
 his portmanteau into the drawers of his bed- 
 room, and this rather emphatic ejaculation 
 escaped him as he kicked the empty valise 
 under his bed. He had taken up a temporary 
 abode in Cecil-street, Strand, in a boarding 
 house there, until he could decide on more 
 permanent arrangements. It was a convenient 
 locality, both for his adopted Inn of Court and 
 the Royal Academy, which was at that time 
 in lodgings like himself in its late quarters, 
 the National Grallery. If he could not fix on 
 the precise via media ^ he rather preferred to 
 incline to the Royal Academy, as his occupa- 
 tion would lie more particularly in that 
 establishment. Here he remained for about 
 three weeks, and before that time expired he 
 had entered himself at Gray's Inn to please 
 his uncle and fulfil his promise to his sister.
 
 184 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 and liad been admitted as an art student of 
 the Academy to please himself. 
 
 His uncle had given him a cheque on his 
 banker for the first half-year's payment in 
 advance, and had added to it a douceur of 
 fifty pounds to express and emphasize his 
 warm approval of his nephew's zeal, and his 
 best wishes for his legal success; so that 
 Claude was in possession of £200. By the 
 time he had been working a week in the 
 Academy he had formed the acquaintance of 
 several art students, and an intimacy sprung 
 up between himself and one of them which 
 led to his acceptance of the proposal that he 
 should remove to St. John's Wood, where he 
 could have a comfortable bedroom and share 
 a studio, a large, commodious room, with the 
 right aspect for light. 
 
 This new acquaintance was one Morey 
 Maguire, the son of an Irish father many years 
 deceased. His mother was still living, but 
 not residing under her son's roof. He was 
 two or three years younger than Claudcj
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 185 
 
 although, being tall and robust, he looked 
 very near the same age. His complexion T^as 
 rather fair, and he cultivated all his facial 
 hair, vrhich was not as yet very abundant, 
 and, like most artists, at that time, left the 
 hair of his head to do what it liked with it- 
 self, which, being inclined to curl, hung 
 about his temples and shoulders with easy 
 and picturesque freedom. There was nothing 
 in his appearance to indicate his Irish descent, 
 but he had all the rollicking vivacity of the 
 Irish temperament, and was warm in his 
 attachments, and recklessly generous. His 
 demonstrativeness at once attracted and cap- 
 tivated Claude, and these two young men 
 became very soon inseparable friends. 
 
 It was a small house in the north-western 
 extremity of St. John's Wood where Claude 
 now took up his abode, but as there were few 
 rooms in it they were of ample dimensions. 
 The house was detached and had a consider- 
 able quantity of garden back and front for a 
 London suburban residence.
 
 186 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 Maguire had mentioned that his sister was 
 residing with him, and Claude was agreeably 
 surprised to meet a really beautiful girl, who 
 appeared to be about eighteen years of age, 
 quite a contrast to her brother in the richness 
 of her dark complexion and the almost jetty 
 blackness of her luxuriant hair. Every feature 
 of her face was exquisitely chiselled, and a 
 pair of large black eyes, lighted up with great 
 animation and expression, gave her face great 
 force of character, and convinced Claude that 
 she was as intelligent as she was beautiful. 
 Maguire was very proud of his sister Mar- 
 garet, and loved her dearly, and she was as 
 warmly attached to him. On his first intro- 
 duction to this charming young lady, who, 
 though inexpensively dressed, was evidently 
 very studious of taste and effect, Claude was 
 so arrested by her that he gazed more intently 
 than good manners dictated or seemed to be 
 altogether agreeable to the object who had 
 thus rivetted him. Margaret received him 
 with politeness, and would have done so with
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 187 
 
 a little more touch of cordiality and frankness, 
 ttMcIi were natural to her, if lie had not so 
 suddenly arrested her by his very marked 
 observation. This shght restraint soon wore 
 oSj and when the three sat down to dinner 
 for the first time, which was early in the day 
 — at the usual fashionable lunch time — they 
 became very chatty together, and were 
 mutually pleased with each other's acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 As time went on they became thoroughly 
 domesticated, and Claude congratulated him- 
 self on this fortunate acquaintanceship with 
 Maguire. During term time he was never 
 able to dine at home, as he spent his mornings 
 in the Eoyal Academy and dined at his Inn. 
 He was resolved to keep his terms to qualify 
 himself for his call to the Bar. This he could 
 at least do without interfering with his special 
 studies. Between terms he always went home 
 from the Academy with Maguire and dined 
 with him and his sister, passing the remainder 
 of the day in the studio in company with his
 
 188 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 friend. But whether lie was at home or in 
 town he saw nothing of Margaret after break- 
 fast, unless he sat up late at night to keep 
 Maguire company, who nearly always retired 
 after midnight, as his sister, with very rare 
 exceptions, invariably returned at a late hour. 
 Sunday was the only exception to this mo- 
 notonous and not altogether agreeable regu- 
 larity, and Claude took advantage one Sunday 
 of Margaret's presence to invite confidence 
 and get an explanation of this unaccountably 
 mysterious state of things. He began the 
 story of his life with the account of his father's 
 professional and domestic misfortunes ; his 
 early death and the tragic end of his mother 
 on the high seas ; how he and his sister Julia, 
 from their tenderest years, had been under 
 the care of their paternal uncle ; and how his 
 uncle, against his inclinations, was driving 
 him to the profession of the Bar, which he 
 hated with such an intense loathing, that 
 even the dinners he ate at his Inn, excellent as 
 they were, invariably disagreed with him and
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 189 
 
 made him ill. He told them how he was de- 
 ceiving his uncle in the course he was pur- 
 suing as an art student, and at what peril. 
 He concealed nothing but the mutual engage- 
 ment between himself and his cousin Mary, 
 and on this subject, for some reason, he said 
 nothing. 
 
 Both Maguire and his sister listened with 
 interest to his story, and expressed their sym- 
 pathy with him. The former reviewed all the 
 circumstances, expatiating on the absurdities 
 and mischiefs of prejudice, roundly condemn- 
 ing the uncle and justifying the nephew. 
 Maguire was quite sensible of the moral diffi- 
 culties of the question, but he came to the 
 conclusion that Claude was perfectly right to 
 be directed and decided by his natural genius, 
 and if that involved a little duplicity, well, for 
 the life of him, he could not see how it was to 
 be helped. 
 
 Margaret was much of the same opinion. 
 
 " I thought you and Margaret would agree 
 with me, Morey, in this matter.'*
 
 190 THE BETDAL BAE. 
 
 '' I do, Claude. I don't know how to dis- 
 agree with. you. Your uncle has put you in 
 a fix, and if the fix is a wrong one he of course 
 is responsible for it. By St. Claude Lorraine ! 
 your great namesake, cling to your love of art 
 with the passion that he did. You'll be a 
 master, Claude, I swear you will, in your own 
 figure line. You draw grandly." 
 
 " Hardly that, Morey," replied Claude, 
 slightly reddening at this enthusiastic admir- 
 ation of his friend. 
 
 " You do, on my soul you do ; I'm not 
 flattering. What you have done in the living 
 model room has astonished everybody. Why 
 you've not yet attended one of the anatomy 
 courses, because the lectures are given before 
 Christmas, and yet, by Jove ! Claude, you've 
 amazed us all." 
 
 "You speak warmly, as a hearty friend, 
 Morey." 
 
 " I've got an idea, Claude, that will get you 
 out of this precious fix. Yes, I see now how 
 it can be done. All that lying and deception
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 191 
 
 bothers you, I know it does. I hate lying ; 
 nothing like haying everything above board. 
 iN'ow look here, you say you depend entirely 
 upon your uncle. Of course you must have 
 money. 'Now keep this state of things up for 
 a couple of years. It's horribly hard to play 
 the hypocrite for a couple of years. That's a 
 terribly long time, Margie, to appear in one 
 character, isn't it ? You'd hardly like such a 
 long run as that, eh. Peg ? Well, for a couple 
 of years. Do you think you could keep it up 
 for a couple of years, Claude ?" 
 
 " ^^iVhj a couple of years ?" 
 
 " "Wait a bit, there's something else. You 
 say old Threlfall will cut you off with a shil- 
 ling. Do you mind that ?" 
 
 " By Jove ! I do, Morey." 
 
 '' Don't." 
 
 " Don't ?" 
 
 "Yes, don't. I'll tell you why. You'll 
 make more than the old fellow will leave you. 
 I'll stake my right hand on it, and my left 
 wouldn't be of much use to me.*'
 
 192 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 " But my uncle will leave me tMrtj tliousand 
 pounds." 
 
 "And you will make tMrty tliousand pounds 
 before lie leaves it to you. How old is lie ? 
 Never mind how old he is, you'll make more 
 than that by your own skill ; I'll swear you 
 will. Don't bother yourself about the thirty 
 thousand pounds. That's not the difficulty ; 
 the lying is the difficulty — ^keeping up false 
 appearances for two years — that's the only 
 difficulty I see. Can you do it, Claude ?" 
 
 " Well, I think I can ; but why two 
 years ?" 
 
 " Why, just this. The biennial gold medal 
 of the Academy has just been awarded. You 
 are cock-sure of being the next medalist. 
 Don't smile as if you doubted it. I tell you 
 you are. You will have it for certain, and 
 then, you know, you will be sent abroad to 
 study three years at the expense of the 
 Academy ; and if you don't come back from 
 Italy a Tintoretto, or even a Titian, I was al- 
 most going to say a Michael Angelo, I'll turn
 
 THE BEIDAL EAE. 193 
 
 cannibal, and eat all tlie living models in the 
 Academy." 
 
 " Ha ! lia !" laughed Claude, " that's cap- 
 ping your admiration sublimely, Morey." 
 
 " It's not only my opinion," said the en- 
 thusiastic friend ; '' every fellow says the 
 same. They say they have no chance against 
 you either in drawing or colouring. You'll 
 be an E.A. in five years, or my name is not 
 Morey Maguire. Can you keep it up for tvro 
 years ?" 
 
 " I fear, Morey, I shall have to keep it up 
 for a good many more than two years." 
 
 " No you won't. Make up your mind to 
 keep it up for two years ; but, by Titian ! how 
 late we are at breakfast ! Why, it's just on 
 eleven o'clock ! We can't talk any more now ; 
 we must be off to church." 
 
 VOL. T.
 
 194 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AT TITIAN VILLA. 
 
 " Titian's your patron saint, I suppose, 
 Morey," said Claude, as they sat over their 
 glass of wine after dinner this Sunday. 
 
 *' Morey more commonly swears by Titian," 
 observed Margaret, " than any of the great 
 masters of his art. That's why our ambitious 
 residence is dubbed ' Titian Yilla ;' it was 
 styled ' Lilac Cottage,' when we first came to 
 live here." * 
 
 " Yes, Titian's my tutelary divinity in the
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 195 
 
 painting art. You know, of course, some- 
 thing of his life. He lived very simply and 
 unostentatiously, even after his great reputa- 
 tion was established. I like Titian, because, 
 like my very humble self, he not only painted 
 historical and mythological subjects, but land- 
 scapes. He was a great lover of nature, and 
 so true, too, to that divine mother of all art. 
 And what a glorious colourist he was ! But 
 mind, I don't forget the lessons of the 
 Academy, though I swear by Titian. How 
 should I with such a splendid example? 
 Titian was no slave to any master ; he served 
 with scrupulous fidelity his great mistress — 
 K'ature. He always painted from Xature, and 
 as he himself saw and felt her. There were no 
 tricks in Titian — no base servility. Oh ! he was 
 a glorious fellow, Claude. You'll be a Titian, 
 a Griorgione, a Da Yinci, a Raffaelle ; you 
 have their magnificent breadth of feeling, 
 truthful eye, noble self-assertion and inde- 
 pendence, powerful hand, and you lay on your 
 colour grandly ! If I only live to the age of 
 
 K 2
 
 196 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 Raffaelle I sliall see you on the pedestal of 
 fame, and as ricli as Michael Angelo !" 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Morey ; lay it on thick !" replied 
 Claude, laughing at the extravagant adulation 
 of his friend. 
 
 " Thick ! By St. Titian ! I can't lay it on 
 thick enough. You think I flatter you, 
 but you're not so blind, with all your affected 
 modesty, not to see that you're the favourite 
 in Trafalgar Square. Was that flattery when 
 you know who said the other day at the 
 Academy that your colouring was worthy of 
 Giorgione, who was Titian's model in the art 
 of colouring ? Don't the fellows nick-name 
 you Giorgie now, after that professional com- 
 pliment ? And how Brandon, Paul Brandon, 
 you know, first coloured, and then looked 
 black as thunder when he was told that there 
 was too much of Giordano in his manner of 
 painting ? The fellows will dub him Giordie 
 after that. Brandon is wonderfully clever as 
 an imitator ; he will copy anything so that 
 you can't distinguish his work from the
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 197 
 
 original. But Paul has no creative genius, 
 no indi^^idual feeling, no artistic personality. 
 He'll make a living vritli the picture dealers, 
 who'll employ him to make duplicates for 
 them to pass off as originals. He'll do well; 
 but Claude, old fellow, he won't be worthy to 
 pick up your brush if you should let it drop, 
 only a Osesar will be worthy of that honour, 
 as the Emperor Charles said to Titian." 
 
 *' On my life, Morey, say no more. I can 
 stand no more of this. Margaret," Claude 
 said, turning towards her, " your brother is 
 the most consummate flatterer I ever fell in 
 with." 
 
 Margaret was blushing very deeply, and 
 was plainly very much annoyed about some- 
 thing, and Claude could not avoid to see it. 
 Morey looked towards his sister at the same 
 time, and also observed her uneasiness. 
 
 " Peggy, I beg pardon ! I really meant 
 nothing disrespectful to Brandon. A fellow 
 must be something who is worthy to be called 
 a Giordano. He was a wonderful worker was
 
 198 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 Giordano, and imitated tlie style of Titian so 
 .closely that it is no easy matter to distinguisli 
 his works from those of that great master^ 
 That's no mean power, Peggy, I can tell you. 
 A fellow who can do what Titian did must be 
 a great man in his way. There was only this 
 difference between them — Titian painted from 
 nature and himself, and Giordano painted 
 from Titian or somebody else. That was all 
 the difference. It's no use blinking the fact, 
 Peggy. Artists must be plain, truthful, con- 
 scientious men, you know. Since Claude has 
 been in the Academy, every fellow knows that 
 Brandon's chance of the gold medal is all up. 
 He knows it too, and is naturally annoyed at 
 it. But he has not the ghost of a chance. 
 There'll be two Claudes in the great roll of 
 painters, ten years hence, and the modern 
 Claude will be the greater of the two. But 
 Claude Lorraine will always be a great man 
 in his landscape line, and so will Paul Bran- 
 don be in his consummate imitative power." 
 "No more of this, Morey. Brandon's a
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 199 
 
 clever fellow, and has no reason to be jealous 
 of me." 
 
 Clande had discovered in the course of this 
 conversation, a secret which interested him. 
 Margaret was the affianced of Paul Brandon, 
 there was no doubt of that. She had betrayed 
 her wounded feeling too demonstratively by 
 her blushes, and the frown on her dark brow 
 while her brother was lavishing his praise on 
 him, and making comparisons to her lover's 
 disadvantage. The opinion of Maguire, if 
 enthusiastically and extravagantly expressed, 
 was secretly gratifying to Claude, for Maguire 
 himself stood well in the Academy, and was 
 regarded as a promising student. Though 
 young, he was one of the oldest students then 
 attending there, and was a general favourite, 
 as well for his acknowledged talents as 
 for his thoroughly warm heart and open 
 generosity of character. But after this dis- 
 covery which Claude had made, and which 
 Margaret herself knew had been betrayed to 
 him by the apology which her brother had
 
 200 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 offered her, he felt as if he should incur some 
 abatement of Margaret's friendship, who would 
 naturally be sensitive on her lover's reputa- 
 tion. It was therefore to preserve the friendly 
 intimacy which he had hitherto enjoyed with 
 her that he deprecated any further compari- 
 sons, and made the complimentary remark 
 which he had just uttered. 
 
 " Jealous of you ! " replied Maguire, " I 
 should think not. Like all the rest of us he 
 ' must admire your fine abilities, and feel a 
 brotherly pride in the splendid career which 
 is opening before you. He's no more jealous 
 of you than the stars are jealous of the sun." 
 
 It was some relief to Claude, whose modesty 
 Maguire was putting so severely to the test, 
 that at that moment Brandon entered the 
 room. It was the end of June, and he had 
 called to take Margaret for a stroll in the 
 fields about Kilburn. Claude noticed a slight 
 coolness in the way Brandon greeted him, 
 though he was very hearty in his recognition 
 of Maguire, and of course significantly cordial
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 201 
 
 in his address to Margaret. This circum- 
 stance was, perhaps, due to the greater and 
 longer intimacy between Brandon and the 
 Maguires, and the relation in which he stood 
 to them as the accepted suitor of Margaret. 
 But occurring as it did, so immediately on the 
 conversation which was taking place, Claude 
 naturally enough noticed it, but only at once 
 to dismiss all further thought about it. 
 
 " Sit down for five minutes, Paul, and take 
 a glass of wine with us while Peggy is putting 
 on her bonnet," said Maguire, pushing the 
 decanter and a clean glass towards him. 
 " Talk of the de^41, &c., as the old saying is, 
 well, here you are." 
 
 " Thank you for the compliment, Morey," 
 returned Brandon, helping himself to the wine, 
 and raising the glass to his lips. " It's a * 
 mild, fruity wine, this port of yours, Morey ; 
 not fiery. I hate fiery port, though I am 
 
 a—" 
 
 "Hot blooded, warm hearted, tolerably 
 
 K 5
 
 202 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 good sort of fellow," said Morey, cutting Mm 
 short; "and all those qualities, and some 
 others I could mention — but I spare your 
 modesty — are not commonly predicated of the 
 gentleman whose name you were going to 
 repeat. Talking of modesty, here's Claude 
 Threlfall, as modest as a girl of eighteen. 
 He affects not to know that he is going up the 
 ladder of professional distinction five rounds 
 and more at a time." 
 
 " The affectation of modesty, no doubt, 
 Morey," replied Brandon, with a smile at his 
 friend, which Claude thought was a little con- 
 strained and slightly sardonic. 
 
 " I'm not conscious of any affectation, 
 Morey," said Claude, addressing himself to 
 Maguire, for he observed that Brandon did 
 not look at him when he made the remark. 
 " I wish to succeed in my profession, and work 
 with that object." 
 
 " Succeed ! By Titian ! you will succeed. 
 Doesn't every fellow say, Paul, that Threlfall 
 is the next medalist ?"
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 203 
 
 " I have lieard some say as much, but young 
 artists, no more than other and older men, 
 are prophets." 
 
 This was said in a tone of voice and with a 
 look that seemed to express a difference of 
 opinion in the speaker, and some slight con- 
 tempt for the prophets. 
 
 " Take another glass of wine, Paul," said 
 Morey, pointing to the decanter near him ; 
 " it's deliciously fruity, isn't it ? You don't 
 like harsh flavoured port." 
 
 Margaret was quickly attired, and now 
 entered the room, and Paul left his chair to 
 accompany her in a walk. 
 
 ** Here, take this before you go, Paul," 
 called out Morey, filling his glass for him, " a 
 smack of fruity wine on your hps will sweeten 
 conversation, and sugar the pleasures of your 
 walk." 
 
 Brandon nodded a friendly no to Morey, 
 and followed Margaret out of the room. 
 
 " Brandon's a good fellow at bottom," said
 
 
 204 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 Maguire, when he and Claude were left alone, 
 " a sterling good fellow. He's in love with 
 
 So I perceive." 
 
 Yes, a recent affair, too ; and therefore 
 rather hot, yon know. There's a good deal of 
 the southerner about him, and all Italians are 
 ardent in their passions." 
 
 "Is he an Italian, then ? he looks like one, 
 but his name is English." 
 
 " He does look like one, doesn't he ? 'No, 
 he's not an Italian, nor of Italian descent, so 
 far as I know. It's his dark, swarthy com- 
 plexion, and the way he wears his long, 
 straight, black hair thrown back off his face, 
 I suppose, that gives him the appearance of 
 one. It's a handsome face, isn't it ?" 
 
 Claude did think that the face was well 
 formed and the features good, but he did not 
 like the expression, for there was something 
 of furtiveness in the eye, above which the eye- 
 brows dipped a httle too much inwardly, and
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 205 
 
 the lips indicated a little disdain in the slight 
 depression of their extremities. 
 
 " It's a striking face," he replied. 
 
 " Well, now we are alone, I'll just tell you 
 something of my history. You told us all 
 about yourseK this morning, and you may 
 care to know something about me and Peggy. 
 I'm not the son of an artist like you, but, like 
 some others in our jDrofession, born of humble 
 parentage, and left to make my own way in 
 the world. But I have been among men of 
 the brush from my earliest recollection. My 
 pedigree gives me amazingly little trouble, for 
 I know nothing of my maternal ancestors, and 
 all I know of my father is that he had a father 
 who lived somewhere in Ireland, where my 
 father was born ; but in which of the counties 
 I never heard. My fii^st acquaintance with 
 my father and mother was behind the scenes 
 of a London theatre ; that's my earliest, most 
 impressive, and lively remembrance of them. 
 As I grew up I began to understand the
 
 206 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 matter, and then I knew that my father was 
 head stage-carpenter, and my mother a player 
 of subordinate characters, a sort of third-rate 
 actress. I have nothing to be conceited about 
 on the score of extraction, have I ? Well, to 
 cut a long story short, I became a hanger on 
 to the stage too, sometimes using the car- 
 penter's hammer, but more frequently dabbling 
 in the paint pots, and spoiling the brushes. 
 The heaven of my delight was to be among 
 the scene painters, and wait upon them at 
 their work. At length I was allowed to essay 
 the brush in some rough work which it was 
 hardly possible to do any harm to, and some- 
 times, without permission, I tried my hand 
 where, if I had been seen, I should have had 
 a clout of the head. What I once did in the 
 darkness of my sly labours was observed, and 
 obtained the light of somebody's complacent 
 approval. From that day I became an humble 
 member of the scene-painting staff ; and so I 
 went on till I was entrusted with work of
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 207 
 
 some importance, and was, as I tlionght, 
 liberally paid for it. I was now ambitious to 
 become an artist, painted something wbicb 
 was pronounced creditable, sent it on nobody's 
 but my own recommendation as a sort of 
 diploma picture to tlie Eoyal Academy, and 
 was agreeably surprised to be informed tliat I 
 might attend there as an art student with all 
 the advantages afforded by that respectable 
 guild. And there I have been ever since, and 
 there, as you know, I am now. 
 
 " So much about myself. Now for Peggy. 
 She, too, like me, passed her juvenile existence 
 on the boards during that lively time within 
 the walls of a theatre when nobody else was 
 there but the painters, carpenters, and all the 
 rest of the industrial household. The theatre 
 was little Peggy's whole world, solar system, 
 universe, and all besides. Of course her am- 
 bition was to follow in the exalted steps of 
 her mother, and she made her dehiit when very 
 small among a lot of Jittle urchins who were
 
 208 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 wanted for a scene in a pantomime. As she 
 grew up, her pretty face and connection by 
 birth with the establishment secured for her a 
 small engagement, and, as she acquitted her- 
 self to the satisfaction of the manager, who 
 thought he could make something of her, she 
 was put under the instruction of a dramatic 
 teacher, and regularly educated for the stage. 
 She reads and speaks well, has a wonderfully 
 retentive memory, considerable dramatic feel- 
 ing, and is now generally thought to be a ris- 
 ing actress. You see what she is personally. 
 Presentable at least, is she not ? She is an 
 enthusiast in her profession, for the associa- 
 tions of the stage are necessarily paramount 
 with her, and acting is her habit, and the pro- 
 foundest reality of her existence. And she's 
 a darling of a girl, pure, loving, unsuspecting, 
 generous to a thousand faults. I love her 
 with all my soul, and am half jealous of 
 Brandon for coming in between us. My poor 
 mother broke down in health, and is now in
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 209 
 
 a dramatic alms-house, and mj father, as jou 
 know, is dead. That's all about us. Take 
 another glass of port, and then we'll have 
 a stroll in the fields."
 
 210 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 FEUITT POET. 
 
 Theee were very few houses beyond Titian 
 Yilla, wlien Morey Maguire and his sister 
 resided there, although at the present time it 
 is quite embosomed in that populous north- 
 westerly suburb known as St. John's Wood. 
 Beyond extended the open country, intersected 
 with pretty green lanes, leading in one direc- 
 tion to Kilburn and Edgeware, and more 
 northerly to the picturesque higher lands of 
 Hampstead and Highgate. Maguire and
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 211 
 
 Claude took the latter direction, and Margaret 
 and Brandon strolled across the fields towards 
 Kilburn. As we cannot accompany both pairs 
 in their Sunday afternoon ramble, we shall 
 decide to follow the lovers as the more inter- 
 esting couple, and as more directly contribut- 
 ing to the development of our story. 
 
 " You must be tired of your rehearsals, 
 Margie," said Brandon, " and by this time 
 are quite at home in your character, I 
 suppose ?" 
 
 '' I have studied the character carefully, 
 and shall be glad when the first night is 
 over." 
 
 "It's a difficult part, Margie, is the character 
 of Ophelia, but you'll play it well, I've no fear 
 of that. Do you know I never could under- 
 stand Hamlet's conduct to Ophelia. To my 
 mind his treatment of her is the least satis-' 
 factory part of that fine tragedy." 
 
 " Hamlet's was a noble mind o'erthrown by 
 the discoverv of his father's murder, and the
 
 212 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 repugnance lie felt to his motlier's early mar- 
 riage with his uncle, whom he had suspected 
 of foul play." 
 
 " But he was in love with Ophelia." 
 
 " True, but another and more violent 
 passion had seized him than the passion of 
 love. Hate is a more masterful and consum- 
 ing passion than love." 
 
 " I doubt it. If a man loves he loves with 
 his whole soul, and can find no room for 
 hatred." 
 
 " Storm and sunshine are often strangely 
 commingled in nature, and the violence of 
 darker passions will often overwhelm the 
 tender and serener sentiments of the soul." 
 
 " But the sunshine breaks forth in trium- 
 phant strength, and heralds its victory with 
 the rainbow of peace." 
 
 " Hatred of his uncle, and the passion of 
 revenge, were not the only sentiments which 
 stopped the current of his affection for Ophe- 
 lia ; his pure and noble soul was revolted by
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 213 
 
 the conjugal fall of his mother, which power- 
 fully shook his confidence in the fidelity of 
 woman." 
 
 " Shakspeare should have exhibited, in the 
 person of Hamlet, the divine majesty of the 
 love of man for woman, and shown love to be 
 mightier than everything." 
 
 " Our great poet was the interpreter of 
 nature; other and inferior men might have 
 done this, but Shakspeare, like a true artist, 
 drew from nature." 
 
 Margaret uttered this with the warmth of 
 admiration for the great dramatist, and put an 
 emphasis on her words. She did not notice 
 that the brows of Brandon knitted, and that 
 he even winced as he received this reply. He 
 did not answer for a few moments, and they 
 walked on, he cutting with his cane at the tall 
 weeds as if he were not quite at his ease, and 
 not in his most generous mood. Nor was he. 
 The words of Margaret were suggestive. Had 
 not he been told that he was a Giordano by a 
 high authority in the Academy — a copier of
 
 214 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 other men, rather than a student of nature ? 
 "Was he, then, no true artist ? Had Margaret 
 heard this ! ITot a doubt of it. Her brother 
 Morey, in his extravagant admiration of Threl- 
 fall, had no doubt told her that his rival had 
 been complimented as a Giorgione, and he put 
 on the lower level of a Giordano. Was he 
 not nicknamed Giordie, and Threlf all Giorgio ? 
 Morey must have mentioned this to Margaret, 
 He had been speaking that very afternoon of 
 the probable next medalist, and even in his 
 presence had said that Threlfall was sure of 
 the distinction. Margaret had heard all this ; 
 and there was meaning in the words she had 
 just used, personal meaning. All these 
 thoughts rapidly passed through his mind, and 
 now his brows met, and his lips were close 
 set, as he cut at the flower of a tall clamber- 
 ing woodbine and severed it from its stem. 
 
 Margaret was quite unconscious of any 
 point in her observation, and did not notice 
 the mental disturbance of her lover. 
 
 " I can't help thinking," said Brandon, after
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE, 215 
 
 this brief pause, " that Shakspeare misses 
 nature there ; it's a blemish in his play." 
 
 "IN'o more a blemish, Paul, than that 
 beautiful white flower which a few seconds 
 since was hanging on its stalk with so much 
 graceful simplicity." 
 
 " A rebuke, by heaven !" muttered her com- 
 panion to himself. '' Is she, too, fascinated by 
 this upstart ? Morey was a fool to ask that 
 fellow Threlfall to lodge with him. The boy's 
 head's turned with his ridiculous admiration 
 of the conceited puppy," striking at the same 
 time a stray dog that sneaked passed them in 
 the lane, and which he sent yelping away. 
 
 " Hamlet oug^ht never to have broke with 
 Ophelia," he said, still holding to his opinion. 
 
 " I shouldn't like you to be Hamlet when I 
 play Ophelia to him for the first time." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 '' Your conception of his character, or, 
 rather what he ought to be, would embarrass 
 me ; you'd spoil my performance ; I should 
 break down."
 
 216 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " You wouldn't be true to nature." 
 
 " D this everlasting iteration of truth 
 
 to nature !" he ejaculated, inwardly. 
 
 " He who plays Hamlet must understand 
 Shakspeare, and follow him. He was a true 
 poet of nature, Paul, depend on it; a genuine 
 artist." 
 
 " There's no chance of my spoiling your 
 performance," replied Brandon, striving to 
 allay the irritation which Margaret's constant 
 reference to nature and the true artist pro- 
 duced, as if she were a stinging nettle ; " your 
 Hamlet, like all the Hamlets I ever saw, will 
 be faithful to stage traditions, no doubt, and 
 will rate you as savagely as you can wish 
 while he dismisses you to a nunnery." 
 
 "I don't wish him to be savage, either, 
 and tear a passion to tatters. I do not think 
 my Hamlet will o'er-step the modesty of 
 nature, but hold the mirror up to her. He will 
 feign his madness sufficiently well to deceive 
 my poor distracted heart, and pour some small
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 217 
 
 drop of consolation in the wounds lie makes. 
 He lias rehearsed that scene in the true spirit 
 of Shakspeare, and made his madness very 
 apparent." 
 
 " I shall never like Hamlet in that scene." 
 
 " It's human nature." 
 
 " Then nature wants mending, and jour 
 true artists would tailor her more to my taste 
 at least." 
 
 '' How mean you, Paul ?" 
 
 " Why, I mean that a lover should always 
 be depicted by the poet as true to his object 
 as the needle to the pole." 
 
 " That would be untrue to nature." 
 
 " Do you mean to say, Margie, that a lover, 
 a real genuine lover, could ever be cruel to 
 the girl he loves ?" 
 
 " Not a real genuine lover, certainly; but 
 men are not commonly lovers of this exalted 
 quality." 
 
 " Men may feign love ; but a lover is a lover 
 and must be true." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 " The love of men, Paul," replied Margaret, 
 in a playful, yet half serious mood, " is tainted 
 with selfishness." 
 
 " By heaven, no ! Margie. Selfishness is the 
 arch antagonist of love." 
 
 " Very true ; but men love selfishly, and 
 therefore do not love truly." 
 
 " You're not speaking your serious convic- 
 tion ; you know it's not true. I believe a man 
 loves with a purity, ardour, and strength of 
 passion which nothing can even cool, much 
 I Ifes s' overthrow. " 
 
 " ISTotiing, Paul ?" 
 
 " Yes, nothing ; what is mightier than 
 
 •ft*-- • 
 
 love ?" 
 
 "Jealousy." 
 
 " Jealousy ! but a real lover is never 
 jealous." 
 
 " Shakspeare thought differently. You 
 surely cannot doubt that Othello loved Des- 
 demona, and yet he-^" 
 
 " Was played upon, foully abused by that
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 219 
 
 arch yillain lago," interrupted Brandon. 
 " Yes, I allow Othello loved, but then he was 
 deceived." 
 
 " But, according to jou, love ought no more 
 to be deceived by the wily arts of cunning, 
 than overthrown by the fair force of the 
 wrestler." 
 
 " Who can resist the devil ?" 
 
 " We are told to resist the devil. Plainly, 
 he may be resisted, and love, which you say 
 is almighty in a man's heart, must be able to 
 do so." 
 
 " It was a powerful temptation, most cun- 
 ningly devised in Othello's case." 
 
 " I don't think so. Othello, like most men, 
 was capable of jealousy, and lago knew it, 
 and wrought upon this weakness in his 
 character. And with what a trifling, con- 
 temptible instrument, too — a pocket-handker- 
 chief ! but yet, as he says, ' trifles light as air 
 are to the jealous confirmation strong as 
 proofs,' &c. You know the rest. That is 
 the pivot and moral of that great tragedy.'* 
 
 L 2
 
 220 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 " You are an actress, Margie, and are up in 
 
 Sliakspeare." 
 
 "I am; and a woman too, and I speak from 
 my womanly instincts and observation of 
 human character, quite as much as from the 
 pages of our great dramatist." 
 
 They were now in the fields, and the friendly 
 shade of the trees in the hedgerows invited 
 them to sit down. 
 
 " How do you like Threlfall?" began Bran- 
 don, as he stretched himself on the grass; 
 *' he has been with you now several months." 
 
 " I rather like him, he's frank and very 
 agreeable ; but I see very little of him, as our 
 respective occupations separate us for the 
 greater part of the day. He's clever; accord- 
 ing to Morey, quite a genius." 
 
 "Yes, he's unquestionably clever, and a 
 genius too, but Morey will spoil him with his 
 extravagant admiration of his talents. You 
 know your brother Morey, Margie, is about as 
 unselfish and loving a nature as a woman. 
 He often reminds me of the passionate ardour
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 221 
 
 of a Tvoman in the enthusiasm of his feelings 
 towards those whom he admires and loves." 
 
 " You are more complimentary to my sex 
 than I am to yours. But speaking from my 
 deliberate judgment, and without feminine 
 partiality, I do think a woman's love more 
 sterlino; and endurable than that of a man. 
 Yes, Morey has a good deal of the woman in 
 him." 
 
 " And therefore is likely enough to spoil 
 Threlf all. Women, you must admit, do some- 
 times spoil men ; I won't say, as Hamlet tells 
 Ophelia in his brutal savagery, make ' mon- 
 sters ' of them." 
 
 " I don't think he'll spoil Claude." 
 
 " Flattery will spoil anybody." 
 
 " But Claude really does merit all that 
 Morey says of him." 
 
 " That's a matter of opinion," said Brandon, 
 his brows again turning inwards, which this 
 time Margaret observed. 
 
 " You don't think him clever, then ?" 
 
 " I didn't say that, but merely imphed that
 
 222 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 he miglit not be considered by some to merit 
 Morey's extravagant praises of him." 
 
 " Extravagant ! that decides the matter. 
 Do you think Morey's praises extravagant ?'* 
 
 " I think them injudicious." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because they are likely to make Threlfall 
 vain and too self-confident." 
 
 " You are afraid he will lose the gold medal 
 in his excess of confidence." 
 
 This was a slip of Margaret's. She had 
 detected, as she thought, a feeling of profes- 
 sional jealousy in her lover, and it did not 
 please her ; but she had no desire to wound 
 his feelings, and she was now afraid she had 
 done so. Brandon, though he winced again, 
 affected not to be conscious of the thrust, and 
 replied with the calmness of a complete self- 
 possession — 
 
 " I was not thinking of the gold medal. 
 He may, and he may not, get it ; but flattery 
 is not wholesome diet for a man to live on 
 every day of his life."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 223 
 
 " I don't believe that Morej means it for 
 flattery. He is quite sincere, I believe. It 
 may sound to some like flattery, who do not 
 know my brother, who is so very ardent and 
 demonstrative in his feelings." 
 
 " Well, all I have to say is, that it's a pity 
 to spoil such a fellow as Threlfall by inju- 
 dicious commendation." 
 
 " You must admit there is some reason for 
 Morey's admiration of his friend, Paul. By- 
 the-bye, you have not seen Claude's portrait 
 of me, have you ?" 
 
 " I was not aware that he had painted 
 
 you." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, he has, and in my theatrical 
 costume of Ophelia. I have dressed the 
 character several times for him. I think you 
 will say it's a capital likeness. He certainly 
 does paint admirably from nature." 
 
 As Margaret said this, with all the sim- 
 phcity and pleasure of creating an agreeable 
 surprise, she looked at her lover as he lay
 
 224 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 leaning his head on his arm in a half- sitting 
 posture. In an instant she saw the indis- 
 cretion of what she had communicatedj for 
 her lover's face was darkened with an expres- 
 sion of unmistakeable displeasure, and only- 
 relieved by a glow of heat, which betokened 
 something that was more than smouldering 
 within. To hide his half -betrayed feelings he 
 sprung to his feet, looking at his watch, and 
 saying it was time he should return. He did 
 not notice that Margaret had observed his 
 disturbance, but in his confusion he had left 
 her to get up from her position unassisted, 
 and again indulged his habit of cutting at 
 the tops of the grass with his walking 
 cane. 
 
 Margaret made no further allusion to the 
 portrait, or to Claude, and endeavoured to 
 turn the conversation into a totally different 
 channel. 
 
 " I do like the early summer and the 
 chattering of the birds, Paul; don't you?'*
 
 THE BRIDAL BAR. 225 
 
 she said, taking his hand as she walked 
 beside him. 
 
 " The early summer is not too hot, 
 and the birds do not flatter, do they, 
 Margie ?" 
 
 *' You can't forget poor Morey, Paul. 
 You're a little hard on him." 
 
 " I was not only thinking of Morey ; I was 
 * thinking of Threlfall. It's a pity to make 
 him more conceited than he is." 
 
 " I have not thought him in the least con- 
 ceited ; what makes you think he is ?" 
 
 " I meet him, you know, in the hying 
 model and painting rooms, and see something 
 of him." 
 
 " And I see him at home, you must re- 
 member." 
 
 " His conceit, then, may be purely profes- 
 sional, but conceited he is when among us. 
 He's no anatomist ; he has not even attended 
 one course of anatomy lectures, and yet he 
 attempts the most difficult subjects, and 
 
 L 5
 
 226 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 thinks lie can draw the human form as well 
 as anybody." 
 
 " Of course I know nothing of that. All 
 I can say is, that at home he never im- 
 pressed me with the idea that he was con- 
 ceited." 
 
 '* A real friend of Threlfall's, who was in- 
 terested in his professional success, would 
 advise him to be rather less in our dear 
 Morey's company." 
 
 " Really, Paul, you're very severe on 
 Morey, What makes you talk so much about 
 Morey ?" 
 
 " I am thinking of Threlfall rather than of 
 Morey. To be plain, then, Margie, I mean 
 that Threlfall, if he looked to his own in- 
 terest, would look out for another home. But 
 he's not likely to do that, and, therefore, you 
 would be acting the part of a friend towards 
 him to contrive some means of inducing him 
 to board somewhere else." 
 
 '' Indeed I should be very sorry for him to
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 227 
 
 leave US. Claude is very happy with us, and 
 we both like him. Morey is as attached to 
 Claude as if he were his own brother, and 
 I think could hardly love a brother more 
 dearly." 
 
 " Well, I merely speak thus candidly to 
 you, Margie, out of regard to Threlfall. He 
 is nothing to me but an acquaintance and fel- 
 low student. We are, I suppose, about the 
 same age, and I should like to be friends." 
 
 " And so you are friends. Why should 
 Claude's living with us interfere with your 
 mutual friendship ?" 
 
 " I don't like conceited fellows, that's 
 all." 
 
 " You mean to say that we are making him 
 conceited." 
 
 '' i^ot you, Margie, of course not. I'm not 
 afraid of you in the matter ; but, if I may say 
 so again without offence, I am afraid of 
 Morey." 
 
 " Don't let us talk any more on this sub-
 
 228 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 ject, Paul. We are late, and they'll be wait- 
 ing tea for us ; let us quicken our steps." 
 
 " You must excuse me joining you at tlie 
 tea-table this evening, Margie. I have another 
 engagement." 
 
 " Oh ! do come in, you always take tea with 
 us on Sundays." 
 
 " You must excuse me, indeed, this even- 
 ing." 
 
 " Oh ! very well ; we'll excuse you." 
 
 Margaret said this with a little pique, as if 
 she were annoyed with her lover ; but pre- 
 sently, afterwards, she talked on indifferent 
 subjects, and indicated no feeling of annoy- 
 ance. Indeed, she affected to be quite cheerful 
 all the rest of the way home, and bade her 
 lover good-bye at the door with an air of 
 gaiety, without repeating her invitation. 
 
 Brandon turned away with clouded brows, 
 muttering to himself. He had no other 
 engagement, but he did not wish to meet 
 Claude.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 229 
 
 " She seems to be quite indifferent wlietlier 
 I go or stay." 
 
 Paul Brandon should have taken the glass 
 of fruity port Trhich Morey poured out for 
 him. It might, as he said, have sweetened 
 his conversation, and added a pleasant zest to 
 his walk.
 
 2^ THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 OHAPTEH XV. 
 
 CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 
 
 Maguire and Threlf all had reached home, and 
 were awaiting the return of the lovers. 
 
 " Where's Paul ?" asked Maguire, when his 
 sister came into the room to make tea, unac- 
 companied. 
 
 " He has asked to be excused as he has 
 another engagement this evening,'* replied 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Not come in to tea ! Another engage- 
 ment ! We shall have snow at the end of 
 June !"
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 231 
 
 Margaret did not return any answer, but 
 addressed herself to tlie duties of tlie tea- 
 table. She had not her usual pleasant smile, 
 for she had been keeping up a smiling exterior 
 for the last quarter or half hour, and a re- 
 action had set in. Maguire noticed this, and 
 so did Threlfall, and each knew that some- 
 thing was wrong, or, at least, that the walk 
 of the lovers had not been mutually satisfac- 
 tory to them. 
 
 " I say, Peggy," began Maguire, to recall 
 his sister to herself, and make matters plea- 
 sant, " Claude and I have had a most enjoy- 
 able walk. We made sure that you had gone 
 out in the direction of Hamp stead and ven- 
 tured to follow you at the risk of interrupting 
 your little tete-a-tete. ''^ 
 
 " I wish we had met you," returned Mar- 
 garet, " but we went in another du^ection." 
 
 " What, out Kilburn way ? I don't like 
 Kilburn ; it's flat low ground out that way. 
 I'm never lively in Kilburn. You should 
 have gone towards Hampstead; the ground
 
 232 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 rises all the way, and my spirits always rise 
 with the ascending pleasures of that country 
 walk." 
 
 " You are always cheerful, Morey. I can't 
 imagine that even the flats of Kilburn can 
 ever bring your liveliness down to their 
 level." 
 
 " Well, Claude and I have really had a most 
 enjoyable walk ; and what with the beauty of 
 the day, the attractiveness of the country, and 
 you for the subject of our conversation, the 
 time has passed most pleasantly." 
 
 " Me as the subject of your conversation ! 
 You have not been talking scandal, I hope." 
 
 " Scandal ! by Titian, no ! Have we, 
 Claude ?" 
 
 " We are not of them," replied Claude, 
 " who, in the words of your favourite bard, 
 Margaret — 
 
 " ' Do fawn on men, and hug them, hard, 
 And after scandal them.' " 
 
 " But not men, but a woman is in the case 
 now, Claude," returned Margaret*
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 233 
 
 " And therefore more sacred from ' black 
 scandal or foul-faced reproach/ " rejoined 
 Claude. 
 
 *' Shakspeare seems to be your favourite 
 poet, too, Claude : you quote him appositely 
 and glibly." 
 
 "Your presence quickens my memory, 
 Margaret, and drives me to him for the ex- 
 pression of my thoughts." 
 
 "You are very complimentary, Claude." 
 
 "Hear! hear!" shouted Morey; "don't 
 say I lay it on thick in future, my modest 
 friend." 
 
 " I wish I knew how to lay it on thicker ; 
 it would be well deserved, and I should have 
 no fear of censure, at least, from my own 
 conscience." 
 
 Margaret blushed, and Morey said, jocu- 
 larly, that Claude had better try his flattering 
 art on him. 
 
 " I could say something that would try your 
 modesty; but I spare you, Morey."
 
 234 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 " Don't spare me. I like compliments, and 
 am not at all offended with a little flattery." 
 
 "Well, have at you, you provoking fellow, 
 and Margaret's suggestive presence shall again 
 give me words — 
 
 " ' Nay, do not think I flatter : 
 For what advancement may I hope from thee, 
 That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits. 
 To feed and clothe thee ? 
 
 Dost thou hear ? 
 Since my dear soul vras mistress of her choice. 
 And could of men distinguish, her election 
 Hath sealed thee for herself. 
 
 Give me that man 
 That is not passion's slave, and I v«^ill wear him 
 In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart. 
 As I do thee.' " 
 
 " Hold !" exclaimed Morey, " ' something 
 too much of this.' " 
 
 " You are both apt Shatkspearians," struck 
 in Margaret. 
 
 "We have been talking of Shakspeare 
 and you, Peggy, all the afternoon," replied
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 235 
 
 Morey, '' and Claude swears you'll play 
 Ophelia finely." 
 
 *' I tliank Claude for Ms good opinion of 
 me," returned Margaret, " and hope that 
 everybody else will endorse it on the eventful 
 night." 
 
 " Morey and I," said Claude, " will quicken 
 the public expression of it by the enthusiasm 
 of our own admiration." 
 
 "What, if the opinion is not concurrent 
 with your own friendly feelings ?" askedMar- 
 garet. 
 
 "We'll pitch the key-note of admiration 
 from the critics' box ; the multitude will be 
 sure to follow such discriminating authority," 
 returned Claude. 
 
 " I should like the expression of approval 
 better if it were not prompted by the partiahty 
 of a friend." 
 
 "It will be simultaneous," said Claude; 
 " I am sure but one feeling will animate all 
 present, and that will satisfy you, Margaret.'^
 
 236 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 "What is your opinion, Claude," asked 
 Margaret, " of Hamlet's conduct to Ophelia?" 
 
 " It's a painful scene, but quite natural, I 
 think, considering the dreamy, introspective 
 philosophising beingHamlet was, and the reve- 
 lations of the ghost of his father. He had a 
 mission of revenge, which engrossed his whole 
 soul, and he lost all heart for the dalliances, 
 and even the serious entertainment of love. I 
 think this, hardly less than his astonishment 
 at his mother's early marriage with his father's 
 murderer, staunched all feeling of the tender 
 emotion of love, or, at least, obliged him to 
 resist its indulgence. But it was a struggle to 
 quench the gentle passion, showing plainly 
 that he loved Ophelia. His feigning madness 
 when he drives Ophelia from him was a gener- 
 ous deception to soften the blow he was in- 
 flicting, and was prompted by his love, which 
 he felt he must sacrifice. Ophelia's real mad- 
 ness, as the consequence, is a fine testimony 
 of the great poet to the gentle unselfishness
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 237 
 
 of a true woman's love. Poor Ophelia's brain 
 yielded to tlie violence of the shock, not her 
 heart, Tvhich was gentle and lovingly demon- 
 strative, as far as it could be, even in her 
 madness. It's all true to nature, Margaret ; 
 at least, I think so." 
 
 " I quite agree with you, Claude. If you 
 were a player I'd like you to be the Hamlet 
 to my Ophelia." 
 
 " I should have to forget then that you are 
 Margaret Maguire," replied Claude, with a 
 hitherto unusual boldness in his gallantry. 
 
 " Of course," said Margaret, affecting not 
 to observe the gallantry of his reply, though 
 her blushes did not keep her affectation in 
 countenance, " every true actor must reahze 
 the assumed characters of the other parts, and 
 have only the consciousness of the part which 
 he himself assumes. What is but a mimic 
 scene in fact, must be to the player no mere 
 illusion, but positive reality. He needs to be 
 utterly insensible to the presence of an 
 audience, and to be wholly absorbed in the
 
 238 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 passions and actions of what is occurring on 
 tlie stage, which must be to him, for the time 
 at least, the world of real life. But let us 
 leave my art, Claude, which I, as an actress, 
 of course am enamoured of, and am always 
 ready to exalt as having higher uses than 
 merely to entertain, and talk of yours,whichalso 
 holds, ' as 'twere the mirror up to nature, to 
 show Virtue her own feature, Scorn her own 
 image, and the very age and body of the time, 
 his form and pressure.' Yours is a difficult 
 art, and, like mine, demands profound insight 
 and careful study." 
 
 " I am scarcely as yet like you, Margaret 
 — a performer — and my works are not worthy 
 the public attention. I dare not challenge 
 criticism — the criticism of the practised eye. 
 I am but a student, and have as yet much to 
 learn in the profounder mysteries of my art." 
 
 " I won't deny that, Claude," said Maguire, 
 " for that would not be complimentary to our 
 divine art, but, by St. Titian ! your drawing 
 is wonderful."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 239 
 
 " I have studied with some care, I must 
 candidly acknowledge, the form and attitudes 
 of the human figure, and that species of per- 
 spective which we call foreshortening, but you 
 know as well as I, Morey, that no man can 
 be an artist in our branch of art till he 
 has thoroughly mastered the human structure 
 from the skeleton outwards, and can clothe 
 the bony fabric with its muscles and tendons 
 and flesh, and understand their action singly 
 and in relation to the others. I have given 
 some attention to these anatomical studies, 
 with what advantages I had at Cambridge, 
 but I am very imperfect as yet." 
 
 " You have done wonders, Claude," replied 
 Maguire. " I am sure you must have some 
 knowledge of anatomy to do what you have 
 done." 
 
 " A slight knowledge only, but I hope to 
 improve. I think I can draw the human 
 figure in any attitude and with some degree 
 of fidelity ; but I must know more of anatomy, 
 that I may be able to delineate accurately the
 
 240 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 movement and action of the muscles in every 
 posture of the limbs. And then, you know, 
 we have to ascend yet higher to the study of 
 mind, that we may be able to express its 
 various emotions, and in all their ever-varying 
 degrees and intensity, not in the face alone, 
 but in gesture, attitude, and the whole frame. 
 Oh! Morey, this is a life's study and exer- 
 cise, without which the most skilful drawing 
 can never be more than merely mechanical, 
 and utterly devoid of spiritual meaning and 
 sentiment. But I love my art with all the 
 ardour of the most passionate attachment, 
 and I do not quail before its toils and diffi- 
 culties." 
 
 '* Quail ! by Titian, no ; you have no reason 
 to quail, Claude. I am sure you must quite 
 understand the internal structure and confi- 
 guration of the human frame. Your propor- 
 tions, too, are admirable, and you seem to me 
 to know all about the purposes and functions 
 of the muscles. Your knowledge of anatomy 
 must be considerable. You have mastered
 
 THli] BEIDAL BAE. 241 
 
 tlie rudiments, 1*11 swear, and have but to 
 step out boldlj into tlie higher walks of art 
 and paint intellect, emotions, passions, and 
 all the mental and moral phenomena of the 
 soul. Claude, you have the stuff in you of a 
 very great man, nay, you are a great man 
 already." 
 
 " This is all your fault, Margaret," said 
 Claude, " Morey won't be rational ; I am glad 
 at least that I know my own deficiencies. 
 Don't say another word about art, pray, at 
 least about my art." 
 
 Margaret had been listening, with evident 
 expressions of interest, to this conversation 
 between her brother and Claude, and more 
 than once indicated some secret feeling of 
 pleasure, for her face lightened up with a 
 glow of genial animation and a friendly smile 
 as she looked on Claude. Perhaps it was but 
 another reaction from the feeling of disap- 
 pointment at the absence of her lover. Was 
 she thinking of Paul at this time ? Undoubt- 
 edly; but she was thinking more particularly 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 of Paul's advice that she, as a friend of 
 Claude, should contrive some delicate way of 
 inducing him to change his abode for his own 
 good. But why should she set herself any 
 such delicate task, which now seemed more 
 than ever unnecessary, and certainly was a 
 very difficult task, even for a woman's inge^ 
 nuity and aptitudes, and she was quite sure 
 would be a very disagreeable one, at all 
 events, for herself. Was Claude so very con- 
 ceited as Paul had said ? She did not think 
 so ; at least she had not discovered it. He 
 was confident, bold, self-reliant, zealous, per- 
 severing, even ambitious, but he was not 
 conceited. Margaret inwardly resolved that 
 there was not the least necessity, not even for 
 Claude's personal good, that he should cease to 
 reside at Titian Villa, and that she would not 
 be the person to induce him to quit. Claude 
 Threlf all improved on acquaintance, and was 
 a very agreeable- addition to their small 
 family. Indeed they would be now quite 
 dull without him. Morey would certainly
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 243 
 
 miss him, and she couldn't help feeling and 
 confessing to herself that she should miss 
 him too. 
 
 " I won't be guilty of any more faults," 
 she said, in reply to Claude's gentle chiding of 
 her, "unless it be a fault to ask you and 
 Morey to light your cigars. You may smoke 
 in this room, if you like, but I am going to 
 enjoy this delightful evening in a lounge in 
 the garden." 
 
 M 2
 
 244 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 The London season was passed, tlie eventful 
 niglit of Margaret's debut in the character of 
 Ophelia had come and gone, and the suc- 
 cessful debutante was reposing on her well- 
 earned laurels, as the principal London 
 theatres were now closed. The play of 
 " Hamlet" had been put upon the stage with 
 surpassing magnificence of scenery and cos- 
 tume, regardless of expense, for this grand 
 revival of Shakspeare's great play, in which 
 a then eminent living artist was to perform
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 245 
 
 the great part of tlie melanclioly prince, and 
 an untried actress in the dij9B.cult part of the 
 lady " most deject and wretched," was to 
 make her first appearance in that character. 
 The performance of Margaret was in every 
 respect satisfactory, not only to an audience 
 disposed to be lenient to a favourite young 
 rising actress, but also to those dreadful per- 
 sonages the critics, all of whom united to 
 compliment her, and predict her distinguished 
 position in the dramatic profession. Margaret 
 was very happy in the triumph which she had 
 achieved, and Claude was even more lavish in 
 the expression of his admiration than Morey, 
 who was half-beside himself with joy, and 
 prouder than ever of his dear Peggy, on 
 whom he showered his most enthusiastic 
 praises. 
 
 Autumn had set in, and everybody was 
 thinking of recreation and preparing for the 
 attractions of the country. Margaret had 
 been invited to spend a couple of months with 
 a middle-aged widow lady and her daughter,
 
 246 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 botli of whom were great patronesses of tlie 
 mimic art, and resided in a beautiful marine 
 residence in the Isle of Wight. Morey was 
 preparing for his annual enjoyment of a sketch- 
 ing tour, and Claude, who had been taxing his 
 ingenuity to frame a plausible excuse for not 
 returning to Walmer, had at last devised a 
 feasible plan for himself, and was making 
 arrangements for carrying it out. 
 
 Claude had regularly corresponded during 
 all these months with his friends at Walmer, 
 occasionally writing to his uncle, and giving 
 him the most satisfactory assurances of his 
 progress in his professional studies. Like his 
 talk with his uncle, Claude's letters, whenever 
 reference was made — which, of course could 
 not be avoided — to his special pursuit, were 
 all worded in a very general, ore rotundoy 
 style, which quite satisfied that confiding 
 gentleman, and, at the same time, answered 
 the writer's private designs. With Julia and 
 Mary he was always communicative, acquaint- 
 ing them with his progress and the benefit he
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 247 
 
 derived from liis attendance at the Academy. 
 He had heard from Mary that Hawley Paget 
 was expected at Dover in about ten days' time 
 to spend his vacation, and, as he could not 
 avoid to return home for some little time, 
 however brief, he resolved to anticipate that 
 gentleman, and to start at once to his uncle's 
 house. It was Monday, and Margaret would 
 be starting for the Isle of "Wight on Thurs- 
 day ; Morey could not conveniently leave home 
 till that day at the earliest, as he wished to 
 see his sister off first. 
 
 " Well, on Thursday evening, Morey, you'll 
 be at Dover. I'll meet you there in my 
 uncle's trap, and take you back to Walmer. 
 You'll find the Drum a snug, inexpensive, 
 little inn. I'm confoundly vexed that I can- 
 not introduce you to my uncle and offer you 
 the hospitalities of the Grange, but you 
 see it's quite out of the question ; the 
 governor would scent something, and it would 
 be all up with me. However, the girls "^dll
 
 248 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 look after you, and help to make your stay 
 there agreeable." 
 
 " All right, Claude ; I quite understand the 
 matter. I shall be glad to make your sister's 
 and cousin's acquaintance, and we'll do the 
 thing between us very nicely. I'll be at 
 Dover on Thursday evening by the train you 
 mention. Good-bye, old fellow, till we meet;" 
 and Claude took an affectionate farewell of 
 Margaret and his friend, and was off to 
 Walmer. 
 
 Seven months had elapsed since Claude 
 had left home for London, and he was return- 
 ing home now rather as a duty than from any 
 very lively feeling of pleasure. He would 
 gladly have avoided meeting his uncle if he 
 could have done so with any appearance of 
 decency, but he instinctively felt that, after 
 so long an absence, he must, now the 
 legal vacation had come, present himself 
 at Walmer. Perhaps, he thought with him- 
 self, his uncle, who admired his legal zeal.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 249 
 
 mig^ht think it a little excessive if lie took no 
 vacation at all. A week's holiday, therefore, 
 would look natural, and withal respectful and 
 affectionate on his part, but he would have 
 been very glad indeed if he could have avoided 
 this meeting:. The fact was, thouQ;h Claude 
 was acting a deceptive part, he had his seasons 
 of moial compunction, and he did not like to 
 offend the delicacy of his conscience more 
 than was absolutely necessary. He knew that 
 he would be obliged to prevaricate a good 
 deal, and that his inward monitor would give 
 him some uneasiness. To keep up a system 
 of deliberate hypocrisy and falsehood for a 
 couple of years was really hard, and even 
 painful work, and although more than a fourth 
 of the time was expired, there were three- 
 fourths yet remaining of Morey's allotted 
 pjeriod, and he was too partial and confident 
 a prophet to be quite relied on. The proba- 
 bility was that he would need to act his some- 
 what disagreeable part for some years to come. 
 He remembered that Hamlet had said to his 
 
 M 5
 
 250 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 two old school-fellows tliat to plaj on tlie pipe 
 was as " easy as lying/' but tie knew Hamlet 
 meant tliat lying was no easy matter, and lie 
 quite agreed with Mm. However, there was 
 no help for it ; home he must go, and home 
 he went. 
 
 Mr. Thr elf all received his nephew with warm 
 cordiality, which a little tried Claude's moral 
 complacency. The uncle expressed such 
 hearty satisfaction with all that his nephew 
 had communicated from time to time that a 
 less sensitive conscience than Claude's would 
 have winced under the scourges of self- 
 reproach. Claude, however, took all these 
 inward chidings as the inevitable penalty of 
 his unfortunate position, and contrived to 
 mollify their severity by casting the chief 
 blame on the blindness and absurd prejudice 
 of his uncle. Still he was very far from being 
 altogether comfortable. Perhaps, he said to 
 himself, if he had been after all a barrister, 
 as his uncle wished him to be, his conscience 
 might not have been so troublesome an ele-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 251 
 
 ment in Ms moral constitution. His uncle 
 was not Claude's only trouble. Mary had 
 written liim before lie left London to express 
 lier disappointment tliat slie should see her 
 dear Claude only for a week, and wanted to 
 know why he could not spend the long vaca- 
 tion with her at the G-range ; and he had 
 merely written to say that he should reserve 
 all explanations till he saw her. Juha, too, 
 had said in her correspondence, that she quite 
 shared in Mary's disappointment, and could 
 not imagine any explanation that would be at 
 all satisfactory. 
 
 He had returned home, therefore, to give 
 explanations, the hint of which had proved 
 already to be most unpalatable. TVould Mary 
 be satisfied, and if she should be, which was 
 not altogether likely, would Julia be more 
 reconciled to them ? He very much doubted 
 this in Julia's case, however he might succeed 
 with his cousin Mary. But his plans were all 
 arranged. Morey would be coming down in 
 a day or two, to perform his part of the con-
 
 252 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 tract, and tlie thing must be gone tlirongli 
 with. He was affectionately welcomed by his 
 sister and cousin, but it was not so genial as 
 he had been accustomed to, and he could not 
 fail to observe it. On his part, too, there 
 was some consciousness of restraint in the 
 demonstrativeness of his pleasure at again 
 meeting them, which did not improve the 
 tone of their first interview. When people 
 meet to make and receive explanations, there 
 is always some incipient restraint and embar- 
 rassment, and therefore the sooner they are 
 made and received the better it is for all 
 parties concerned. 
 
 So Mary evidently thought, for the very 
 first moment she and Julia could get Claude 
 alone with them she began by saying — 
 
 "What a mystery you have been making 
 about your not coming home for the vacation. 
 And, pray why can't you spend the time with 
 us, Claude. You've been long enough away 
 in all conscience." 
 
 " Yes, I have been from home a long while
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 253 
 
 now, quite seven monttis. One tiling was, 
 I didn't care to write about my reason for not 
 coming down here this autumn, and another 
 was that I thought I could explain the matter 
 more satisfactorily viva voce.^^ 
 
 " Well, then, out with your explanations, 
 and let's have done with mystery," said Mary, 
 a little impatiently ; " but you can't expect 
 that we shall either like or apjDrove of them." 
 
 " Certainly not, Claude," added Julia, in a 
 plainly offended tone of voice. " We were 
 quite expecting the pleasure of your society 
 this vacation, after so long an absence, and 
 now it appears we are to be disappointed." 
 
 " I never met two such unreasonable girls," 
 replied Claude, evidently vexed. 
 
 " Unreasonable !" echoed Mary, " and, pray, 
 do you consider yourself reasonable ?" 
 
 " You won't hear the explanations I have 
 to offer." 
 
 " Oh ! yes we will," they replied, both at 
 once, but with an air indicative of their most 
 supreme contempt for his explanations.
 
 254 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 " I don't think I sliall enter upon tlie matter 
 at all now. You are both plainly hostile to 
 anything I may have to propose, and I don't 
 see the use of saying anything on the sub- 
 ject." 
 
 " You are quite altered, Claude," said Mary. 
 " We used to be everything to you, and now 
 we seem to count for very little with you." 
 
 " Altered, by Jove ! and aren't you two 
 altered? Why, I have hardly been in the 
 house a day, and you have both made up your 
 minds to quarrel with me; I wish I hadn't 
 come down at all." 
 
 " Now, don't let us quarrel, Claude, in this 
 stupid way." 
 
 " It isn't I that am quarrelling, but you." 
 
 " Well, now it's all over ; and now at last 
 give us your explanations." 
 
 " What's the use of explaining anything to 
 two such unreasonable girls ?" 
 
 " Come, who's quarrelling now ?" asked 
 Mary. 
 
 " Well, and are you not unreasonable ?"
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 255 
 
 " Certainly not ; and if we were, it is not 
 polite to tell us so." 
 
 "Well, Claude," said Jalia, witli a look of 
 reproof, " I didn't expect such a first meeting 
 as this." 
 
 " Didn't you, Juha ? Well, all I can say is, 
 I did." 
 
 " Perhaps you had good reason to expect 
 it, Claude," retui^ned his sister. 
 
 " Ko, I had not ; but you are like all girls, 
 so confoundedly impatient and prejudiced." 
 
 '' You certainly are very polite, Claude^'* 
 retorted Julia, offended. 
 
 "I think," said Mary, "we are patient 
 enough, however prejudiced we may be, for 
 we have been waiting all this while for the 
 explanations." 
 
 " Will you hear me patiently, then ?" 
 
 " We'll do our best, considering what im- 
 patient creatures we are, like all our sex." 
 
 Claude was not at all in the mood to explain 
 himself after such a commencement as this, 
 but he knew that his sister and cousin must
 
 256 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 be informed of his plans, and, wliat was of 
 more consequence, must be got to approve, or 
 at least acquiesce in, them, as thej would be 
 required to aid him in carrying them out. He 
 therefore tried to soothe the irritation of his 
 feelings, and made an effort to smooth his way 
 by offering an apology for the language he had 
 allowed himself to use in a moment of vexa- 
 tion. 
 
 " I didn't mean that, you know, Polly," he 
 replied, in his usual friendly way ; " but you 
 might have some little feeling for me, seeing 
 the fix I'm in with uncle." 
 
 " We are all feeling for you," replied his 
 cousin, "or we shouldn't have told and acted 
 so many lies for your sake all these months." 
 
 " I have told no lies, Mary," said Julia. 
 
 " Oh ! you've been more clever, Julia ; I 
 must say I have, and a good many, too. We 
 have had plenty of manoeuvring to keep the 
 proper face on things, I can tell you, Claude, 
 and if we had had only a little feeling and a 
 good round lump of conscience we should
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 257 
 
 have broken our promise to you, and given up 
 our task long ago." 
 
 "You liaven't liad mucli bother, Polly, 
 surely ? My letters made all straight for 
 
 you." 
 
 " Did they, though ? Papa has talked so 
 much about you all this time, and of course 
 has had so much to say to us and ask of us, 
 that we have been telling fibs by the bushel." 
 
 " Indeed, Mary, I have done nothing of the 
 kind," expostulated Julia. 
 
 " Well, you know as well as I do, Julie, 
 that I have told, and looked, and demeaned a 
 lot. I have been telling fibs every day for the 
 last six months, and though I am now quite 
 used to it, I take to it as the mill horse does 
 to the drudgery of his monotonous work. I 
 have been doing nothing else but feeling for 
 you, Mr. Claude, all the time you have been 
 away, and my indignant conscience has been 
 giving it me pretty sharply, I can tell you." 
 
 " Well, you really are very good, Polly." 
 
 " Indeed, no ! I think I am very naughty.
 
 258 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 I hope I shall not have to go on telling lies 
 for another six months ; I shall be black and 
 bine with the thumpings of my angry con- 
 science, if I go on even a month longer." 
 
 What was Clande to do with two such con- 
 scientious and afflicted young ladies as his 
 sister and cousin ? How could he appeal again 
 to their feelings, and ask them to be his ac- 
 complices in a further act of deception, when 
 one, and she the most thick-skinned culprit of 
 the two, complained of the smartings of the 
 lash ? 
 
 " Well, I hope it won't be necessary much 
 longer," he replied, with a look of sympathy, 
 but recalling at the same time the question of 
 Morey, whether he himself could keep it up 
 for a couple of years. 
 
 " And then," continued Mary, " you must 
 remember we have had a good deal of bother 
 with Hawley about you. He has wondered you 
 have never called on him, and has been several 
 times to Gray's Inn in the hope of meeting 
 you. He asked where you lived, and all we
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 259 
 
 could say was that you always dated from 
 Gray's Inn, though you once talked of living 
 in one of the suburbs. He has been so dis- 
 appointed, and cannot understand why you 
 have not been to his rooms. We told him 
 that you would be at home in the vacation, 
 and he has written to say that he shall come 
 to spend a few days with you at the Grange.' 
 
 " I think Hawley is not only disappointed 
 but pained, Claude," added JuHa. 
 
 "Well, I really am very sorry, Julie, to 
 have annoyed Hawley, but you must see that 
 it would have added immensely to my diffi- 
 culties if I had been thick with him." 
 
 " I wish you had never placed yourself in 
 these difficulties," returned his sister; " I am 
 sure I shall never be reconciled to the part 
 you're playing, which I have never ceased to 
 think is decidedly wrong." 
 
 " Now don't let us open up the rights and 
 wrongs of the case again, Julie. We talked 
 on those matters before I went to London ; 
 and then, you must remember, it was not I
 
 260 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 wlio placed myself in tliese diflSculties, but 
 uncle." 
 
 " You miglit make your painting subordi- 
 nate to your duties as one studying for the 
 Bar." 
 
 " Now, look here, Julie, how small is the 
 difference between you and me in this thing. 
 You know I'm keeping my terms at my Inn. 
 It's just a question between us which shall be 
 first in my regards; — you would have the 
 Bar ; I must have, by the irresistible stimulus 
 of nature, painting. That's all the difference. 
 Now don't let us disagree any more on the 
 subject." 
 
 " You really are keeping your terms ?" 
 
 " I am. I have kept every one up to this 
 time." 
 
 " How we have run away from the point ! 
 Now then for the explanations ; I am dying 
 to know what you have got to say for your- 
 self," said Mary. 
 
 " The case is, in few words, just this," re- 
 plied Claude, glad to have paved the way a
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 261 
 
 little more pleasantly for himself. " You 
 know I have told you all about my success at 
 the Academy. "Well, of course time is every- 
 thing to me, and I should be immensely bene- 
 fited if I could have the advantage of a few 
 months' study in Italy ; you know, all painters 
 who aspire to celebrity, or wish to succeed in 
 their art, must study the examples of the 
 great masters of the different schools of 
 painting. Italy abounds in these grand 
 works, and to the painter is itself classic 
 ground. Now look here, don't interrupt me 
 till I have done — I want to take advantage of 
 the next three months' leisure from my legal 
 duties to go to Italy for this purpose." 
 
 " The thing is preposterous, Claude," inter- 
 jected Julie. 
 
 " How can we ever conceal the matter from 
 papa?" asked Mary. 
 
 *' There you are — so impatient. Now do 
 hear me out, and don't interrupt me." 
 
 " Three months in Italy, Claude !" ex- 
 claimed Julie, with the surprise of incredulity.
 
 262 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 "And think of tlie expense, Claude," added 
 Mary. 
 
 "Do hear me out," repeated Claude, 
 annoyed at these interruptions. 
 
 " And are you going to be silent for three 
 months ?" asked his sister. 
 
 "You know, you can't write from Italy 
 home, Claude, and how shall we hear from 
 you?" and Mary looked triumphant in her 
 objection as she suggested this insuperable 
 difficulty. 
 
 " Once more, let me proceed. I'll show 
 you how ; 111 answer all your questions if you 
 will but give me time," remonstrated Claude. 
 
 " Well, let us hear the explanations," in- 
 terposed Mary. 
 
 "We have certainly heard none as yet," 
 said Julia. 
 
 " Of course not," expostulated Claude ; 
 ^'you will keep interrupting me." 
 
 "And we are not to see you for three 
 months, Claude?" asked Julia, dissapoint- 
 ^dly.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 263 
 
 " And jou have been seven months from 
 home already !" rejoined Marj. 
 
 " And you'll never be able to write to uncle 
 or any of us ?" continued Julia. 
 
 " Of course not, Claude, for the postmark 
 would betray you," suggested Mary. 
 
 " Am I to go on or not?" asked Claude, 
 losing his temper again at these interrup- 
 tions. 
 
 ** Certainly — go on," said Julia ; " we are 
 waiting all this time for the explanations." 
 
 " Yes, go on with your explanations," 
 chimed in Mary, " but for the life of me I 
 can't see what explanations you can give." 
 
 " !N'or I," agreed JuHa, " I don't believe 
 the thing should be entertained for one 
 moment. It's preposterous, Claude." 
 
 " I really must say, Claude, that I do not 
 think Julie speaks a bit too strong ; it does 
 look preposterous." 
 
 " It's monstrous," exclaimed Julia, en- 
 couraged by the countenance of her cousin.
 
 264 THE BRIDAL BAE. 
 
 " Well, yes, I tliink it is, Julie, not merely 
 preposterous but monstrous !" 
 
 " You are both just like all tlie rest of the 
 women," said Claude warmly, " prejudging 
 you know not what ; answering a question 
 before you have heard it." 
 
 " We have been waiting all this while for 
 the explanations," said Julia. 
 
 " Are you going to give us the ex- 
 planations, Claude," asked Mary, provok- 
 ingly. 
 
 " D it no ! Yes !" exploded Claude, 
 
 unable to control either his temper or lan- 
 guage. 
 
 " You need not be so excited," said Julia, 
 reproving her brother, " we have simply been 
 asking for explanations." 
 
 " Yes, that is all, Claude," added Mary, 
 propitiatingly, " we are quite ready to hear 
 the explanations." 
 
 " I don't know where I left off," said Claude, 
 " you would keep interrupting me so. What
 
 THE BRIDAL BAE. 265 
 
 I said was, that I wished to go to Italy for 
 two or three months." 
 
 " You said three months, Claude, before ; 
 it was that which surprised us so," observed 
 Mary. 
 
 " Well, I say now two or three months." 
 
 " Then you'll be home long before Christ- 
 mas ?" again asked this persistent inter- 
 rupter. 
 
 " You'll spend a good long Christmas with 
 us, Claude? Of course you ought to," said 
 Juha. 
 
 " Certainly, Claude will, we shall quite 
 expect that, you know," said Mary. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I shall hope to spend a longer 
 Christmas with you than I did last time." 
 
 " But it's a longtime to Christmas," sighed 
 Julia. 
 
 " And sha'n't we see you till just before 
 Christmas, Claude ?" asked Mary, who seemed 
 to be counting up the months. 
 
 " Of course you will, but am I to go on 
 with what we were talking about ?" 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 THE BETDAL BAE. 
 
 ' " Yes, pray go on," said Mary, " we have 
 not yet heard the explanations. What a mys- 
 tery you do make about the explanations, 
 Claude." 
 
 " You won't let me make the revelations. 
 But to try once more. Now, Julia, if you 
 say another word (Julia was just about to 
 speak again), I'll give the matter up ; I won't 
 speak another word." 
 
 " Don't interrupt Claude, Julie," said 
 Mary, coaxingly. 
 
 " Well, I was saying, perhaps you may both of 
 you remember, that I wish to be in Italy for 
 two or three months. During my absence my 
 friend, Morey Maguire, will be the medium of 
 communication with you. He is coming 
 down here to sketch for a month or six 
 weeks, and will be able to give my letters, 
 which I will direct to him, to you ; and when 
 he returns to town he will post them in due 
 
 course." 
 
 cc 
 
 Morey Maguire! Claude," said Julia, " we 
 don't know Mr. Maguire."
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 267 
 
 " Oil ! I'm going to introduce him to you 
 tMs ^eek." 
 
 " But are we expected to be in constant 
 personal communication with Mr. Maguire, 
 Claude ?" asked Julia again. 
 
 " Oh, that won't be a difficult matter, you 
 know, Julie," said Mary, '' after Claude has 
 introduced him to us. I have often wished 
 to see this Mr. Maguire, after all you have 
 said about him, Claude. You always call him 
 Morey, don't you ?" 
 
 " Yes, and he will be all the better pleased 
 if you, both of you, call him Morey, too. He's 
 a most friendly fellow." 
 
 " What nonsense, Claude," exclaimed his 
 sister, " how can you expect us to address a 
 stranger by his Christian name ?" 
 
 '*As you please; he won't be a stranger 
 long. Morey' s soon at home with his friends. 
 But now to account to uncle for my absence 
 all this while. I shall tell him I'm going on 
 circuit ; uncle will, as usual^ applaud my legal 
 
 N 2
 
 268 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 zeal, and tlie tiling will all be managed 
 nicely." 
 
 " Mcelj ! do you call it, Claude ?" said his 
 sister, blusMng for Mm. " I call it most 
 shamefully deceptive.'* 
 
 " There you are, Julie, hammering away 
 at the old topic. You know, as well as I, 
 that I have no alternative but this little bit of 
 innocent deception." 
 
 Julia was not at all convinced. 
 
 " What, three months more fibbing for us, 
 Claude ?" said Mary, opening wide her eyes. 
 
 " It may be only two months, Polly." 
 
 " If my conscience kills me outright by the 
 end of two months, well, the fault won't be 
 
 mine." 
 
 " You needn't exactly tell fibs, you know, 
 Polly." 
 
 " I shall tell none, you may be quite sure 
 of that, Claude," said Julia, with virtuous 
 dignity. 
 
 " I don't want you, Julie ; what nonsense
 
 THE BRIDAL BAR. 269 
 
 you are botli talking. You have only to say 
 tliat I have gone on circuit. "WTiat matters 
 wliere the circuit may happen to be ? I am 
 going on circuit in Italy, and shall circulate 
 pretty freely through the galleries of Florence. 
 You surely don't call that a fib ?" 
 
 " Indeed, I do," replied Julia, emphatically. 
 "I only wish you would spend a few days 
 with Hawley, and hear his opinion on the 
 subject of falsehood. I have never learnt 
 Latin, but you have, and I dare say you would 
 understand the nice moral distinctions which 
 Hawley would point out to you, under the 
 phrases suggestio falsi and sujppressio veri^ and 
 something else, meaning the lie direct. Of 
 course, you'll see Hawley before you leave us 
 
 agam 
 
 P" 
 
 Claude did not answer the question, but he 
 inwardly resolved, for more reasons than one, 
 that he would not.
 
 270 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MOEEY MAGUIEE HEAES INTEEESTING NEWS. 
 
 It was a much easier task, Claude found, to 
 convince Ms uncle of tlie propriety of his 
 going on circuit, than to convince his cousin 
 and sister. Mr. Threlfall at first expressed 
 some disappointment that his nephew would 
 only spend a week with them at the Grange. 
 He had quite hoped for the pleasure of his 
 society for a few weeks in the Isle of Wight, 
 whither he intended to take his daughter and 
 niece for a change of scene and air, although
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 271 
 
 he had not mentioned his intentions as jet to 
 them. 
 
 But Claude had so impressed on him the 
 yalue of time and the great professional ad- 
 vantages of going on circuit, that, in the 
 warmth of his admiration of his nephew's 
 zeal, he had not only consented, but had said 
 that, in addition to the second half-year's 
 allowance which he had already remitted to 
 him in London, he should add a £50 note for 
 the expenses of travelling. 
 
 As for Mary and Julia, they continued their 
 objections and expostulations up to the very 
 day of Morey Maguire's arrival, and it was 
 with the utmost difficulty, and only after the 
 most earnest persuasion, that he could get 
 them to agree to his plans. In the end, how- 
 ever, they consented, and Claude had sur- 
 mounted his greatest difficulties in the way 
 of his anxious project. 
 
 When Morey arrived at the Drum, in com- 
 pany with Claude from Dover, he was at once 
 made sensible that the office he had under-
 
 272 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 taken for his friend would not be a very dis- 
 agreeable one, and tbat lie might look forward 
 to a very pleasant sojourn in the retired 
 neighbourhood of Walmer. As a friend of 
 the Threlfalls he was received by the land- 
 lady with very marked attention, and his eye 
 was instantly arrested by some other atten- 
 tions which were much too conspicuous to be 
 overlooked. A side table contained several 
 plates of choice fruits, some of which must 
 have come from the hot-house of somebody's 
 garden, and bouquets of flowers added to the 
 luxuries and fragrance of the room. On the 
 sideboard stood likewise a small plump ham, 
 and a couple of roast fowls, and a basket of 
 splendid Spanish new-laid eggs. That all 
 these attentions had been shown him by the 
 inhabitants of the Grange he did not doubt 
 for one moment. 
 
 " By St. Titian !" he exclaimed, as soon as 
 he caught sight of this magnificent display of 
 creature comforts, " the ladies have been too 
 considerate of me, Claude. You should have
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 273 
 
 checked this exuberance of hospitality, you 
 should, indeed ! I'm ashamed to have been 
 all this trouble to them." 
 
 " Trouble to them, old fellow ! not the least 
 trouble ; positive pleasure. They're only 
 annoyed that circumstances forbid them offer- 
 ing you the hospitalities of the Grange." 
 
 "What flowers, Claude ! Yan Huysum and 
 De Heem would have gloried in such subjects 
 for their pencil." 
 
 '' Well, now I must be off. The Governor 
 will wonder where I've been all this time. I 
 think you'll be comfortable here for two or 
 three weeks. Yon'll find your way to the 
 Copse I pointed out as we came along ? To- 
 morrow at ten o'clock I shall bring the girls 
 there to make your acquaintance." 
 
 "All right, old feUow; good-bye, I shall 
 take a stroll down to Deal this evening, and 
 look about me." 
 
 Morey Magnire was the only visitor to the 
 httle inn, and consequently enjoyed the very 
 particular attention of the landlady, who was 
 
 N 5
 
 274 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 very cliatty, as country landladies generally 
 are, and indulged in very free conversation 
 with her occasional guests about her neigh- 
 bours, all whose concerns were, of course, 
 very interesting, and quite familiar to her. 
 
 "You came under pleasanter circumstances, 
 sir," she began, while busy laying the cloth 
 for Maguire's supper, " than the last visitor 
 we had to the Grange. Poor gentleman ! we 
 quite thought he was dead." 
 
 " A visitor to the Grange met with an 
 accident here?" said Maguire, looking up 
 inquiringly at the landlady. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, haven't you heard all about it, 
 sir ? " 
 
 " No, I don't know what you refer to." 
 
 Claude had once or twice mentioned some- 
 thing of Hawley Paget to his friend, but he 
 had forgotten who the gentleman was, and 
 what his relations to the family of the Threl- 
 falls. 
 
 " Oh ! I wonder they never told you all 
 about it. Well, you must know, last winter
 
 THE BEIDAL BAR. 275 
 
 — what a winter it was, wasn't it ? I never 
 remember sucli a winter in all my life. Whj, 
 tlie snow was two feet deep everywhere ; and 
 the drift ! It was frightful ! We were all 
 snowed up, and would you believe Mr. Paget, 
 poor young gentleman, ventured to walk all 
 the way from Dover here with a little port- 
 manteau ! Well, to cut a long story short, he 
 sat down to rest hisself. You know how 
 dangerous that is, of course, sir, and he fell 
 asleep, and was well near being frozen to 
 death." 
 
 " Bless my soul !" exclaimed Maguire. 
 
 " Yes, he was almost gone, when, as luck 
 would have it, two men found him and man- 
 aged — how I don't know — to bring him here. 
 We put him into a warm bath and brought 
 him to. I thought he was dead, clean gone, 
 sir. It was a narrow escape. What mischief 
 love does do, sir, doesn't it ?" 
 
 '' Love!" said Mr. Maguire, " was Mr. Paget 
 in love with anybody out here ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, to be sure. No one but a man
 
 276 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 in love would a' come out such weather as 
 that. Between ourselves, that Mr. Paget came 
 over to see Miss Threlfall — Mr. Threlfall's 
 daughter, you know, sir. A very nice young 
 lady is Miss Threlfall, is she not, sir ? Of 
 course you know her, and the other young 
 lady, Mr. Claude Threlfall's sister ?" 
 
 Maguire did not profess his ignorance of 
 two young ladies who had been so attentive 
 to him, and whose ham and fowls were being 
 at that moment laid on the table, so he made 
 an acquiescing sign with his head, which the 
 landlady naturally accepted as an assurance 
 that he was well acquainted with the Misses 
 Threlfall. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, Mr. Paget is in love with Mr. 
 Threlfall's daughter. That was the cause of 
 it all. He seems a very nice gentleman, and 
 I hope they'll be very happy together. Do 
 you take ale or stout, sir ?" 
 
 And the landlady, having received her orders 
 for a bottle of pale ale, left her guest to his 
 own reflections.
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 277 
 
 " Claude's cousin's engaged, tlien, to this 
 brave, gallant Mr. Paget. I fancy I liave heard 
 Claude speak of this Mr. Paget, after all ; but I 
 don't remember that he ever said his cousin was 
 engaged to him. Perhaps I shall have the 
 honour of making his acquaintance too. He 
 must be a hot lover to walk all the way from 
 Dover here, in snow two feet deep, and over 
 drifts like small mountains. By Titian ! I 
 like to see a man in earnest ; that Mr. Paget 
 must be worth knowing^, and Claude's cousin 
 must be a fascinating gu4." 
 
 Morey Maguire was very susceptible of fe- 
 male charms, and delighted in female society. 
 He had looked forward to this visit to Walmer 
 with much pleasure, q,s affording him the op- 
 portunity of seeing these two young ladies, 
 and being on terms of almost intimacy with 
 them. The delicacy of the function he had to 
 perform would necessarily place him in very 
 frank and friendly relations with them. "So 
 this Mr. Paget is the accepted lover of ]\Iiss 
 Mary Threlfall !" he said to himself, as he
 
 278 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 finislied Ms supper and lighted a cigar. " I 
 wonder whetlier Claude's sister Julia is en- 
 gaged too." 
 
 Tlie question seemed a very interesting one 
 to Maguire, for after smoking Ms cigar lie lit 
 another, and went out for a short stroll before 
 going to bed. He wandered about for at least 
 an hour, trying to imagine what Julia was 
 like. " Like Claude, not a doubt of it," he said 
 " good-looking I'll swear, and clever too. Why, 
 surely Claude once said that his sister was 
 engaged to somebody, but I must have mis- 
 understood him ; it must have been his cousin. 
 The first opportunity I'll ask him."
 
 THE BRIDAL BAR. 279 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 THE CONSPIRATORS RENDEZVOUS AT THE COPSE. 
 
 The summer of this year had set in almost 
 with the spring, and had continued with 
 scarcely any interruption up to the present 
 time. A little rain fell occasionally, but 
 generally during the nights, which only con- 
 tributed to the health of vegetation, and the 
 refreshment and luxuriance of the day. And 
 still the weather was gloriously fine, and the 
 sun shone with a fiery brilliance and splendour 
 unobscured by the flimsiest of floating vapours, 
 which glistened and shivered like a magic
 
 280 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 veil as it evaporated but never gathered into 
 clouds in the day time, and served only to 
 intensify the sensation of glowing heat. The 
 harvest had all been gathered in a fortnight 
 earlier than had been known for many years. 
 It was on such a morning that Maguire left 
 the Drum to keep his appointment at the 
 Copse with the other conspirators in this 
 deep-laid Claudian plot. The hour was fixed 
 at ten ; but Maguire, attracted by the beauty 
 and freshness of the morning, had arrived at 
 the rendezvous, and was seated under his ex- 
 pansive umbrella, and at work by the time his 
 watch marked nine. He wore a light tourist's 
 suit, and a white felt broad-brimmed hat, 
 beneath which his abundant light brown curls 
 fell in apparently unstudied gracefulness. 
 By the time he was expecting his colleagues, 
 he had made considerable progress with his 
 water-colour sketch, which included the 
 Grange, about a quarter of a mile distant, 
 and which he recognised again as Claude had 
 pointed it out in their drive. From his posi-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 281 
 
 tion, lie could only see a small portion of tlie 
 winding road, whicli led hitlier from the 
 Grange, and, as Claude and tlie ladies had 
 not taken tlie road but come across the fields, 
 where some small patches of wood lay in their 
 way and afforded an agreeable shelter from 
 the sun, they were almost close to him before 
 he was apprised of their approach by the shout 
 of Claude. 
 
 " Morey, old fellow, here we are ; the girls 
 are dying to make your acquaintance. My 
 cousin. Miss Mary; my sister. Miss Julia 
 Threlfall ; Mr. Morey Maguire," he said, in- 
 troducino- them to each other. " There now, 
 you see for yourselves what sort of fellow my 
 friend Morey is ; the handsomest, wickedest, 
 j oiliest scamp in the Academy." 
 
 This confidential introduction by the boister- 
 ous Claude caused a slight blush to mantle 
 the cheeks of the ladies, but it was soon dissi- 
 pated by the easy hearty manner of Maguire, 
 who assured them that he was not entitled to
 
 282 THE BRIDAL BAR. 
 
 claim any one of tlie distinctions wliicli his 
 friend had credited him with. 
 
 *^ What are you about, Morey ? " said 
 Claude, taking up the picture which Morey 
 had laid down. " By Jove ! that's pretty ; 
 look here, Polly, when will you paint like 
 that, eh ?" 
 
 Mary admired the skill of the painter, and 
 thought the picture extremely pretty. Julia 
 Expressed herself still more warmly, and was 
 quite in love with it. The Grange was such 
 a pretty object in the mid distance, with its 
 group of trees, she said. 
 
 "You like the picture. Miss Julia ?" asked 
 Maguire. "Will you do me the favour to 
 accept it when it is finished ?" 
 
 Julia blushed at this polite offer, and ac- 
 cepted it with very great pleasure. 
 
 "I teir you, Julie," said Claude, "that 
 picture will be worth something when Morey 
 turns it off. Look at the graceful forms of 
 that foliage, and the air there is in the pic-
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 283 
 
 ture — warm, isn't it ? You may actually feel 
 the warmth of the morning sun as you look 
 at it." 
 
 " Your brother, IMiss Julia, never sees any 
 faults in his friends," said Maguire. 
 
 " Faults !" exclaimed Claude, " why the 
 sketch reminds me of the special excellences 
 of my great namesake, of Lorraine. Wo one 
 could paint foliage finer than Claude Lorraine, 
 and his aerial effects, whether cool or warm, 
 are magical. And look at those cattle, why 
 they are worthy of Cuyp." 
 
 " Claude, you're an incorrigible flatterer," 
 said Morey, not altogether displeased with the 
 complimentary notices of his sketch. 
 
 " I shall value it very much," said Julia. 
 
 " It will be a great pleasure to me. Miss 
 Julia, to finish it for your acceptance," re- 
 turned the artist, with a graceful bow. 
 
 " Well, now to business," said Claude, after 
 this agreeable commencement. " The ladies 
 understand all about the matter, Morey. I 
 shall write frequently, and tell you all about
 
 284 THE BEIDAL BAR. 
 
 mjself, and send all mj letters to the Grange 
 under cover to yon. That's all understood 
 and settled. You'll see my sister and cousin 
 daily, no doubt, for Polly will be delighted to 
 see you paint ; she's a painter herself. Can't 
 you do something in the piquant style of Wat- 
 teau, Morey ? We'll go down into that little 
 dell, and you can paint us there. Come along, 
 group us to your taste, and then sketch away. 
 Julie has great dramatic taste, and will be 
 sure to want the picture when it's done." 
 
 Maguire, who at first regarded this as but a 
 joke of his friend's, when he heard that Julia 
 was fond of the drama, treated the proposal 
 seriously, and offered to make the sketch 
 after Watteau's manner. It was quite a 
 "Watteau subject, and he thought he could 
 make a pretty picture of it with a little liberty 
 of imagination in the surroundings of the 
 scene. As the painter was in earnest, the 
 proposal was at once acted on, and some play- 
 ful amusement was made by Maguire' s fastidi- 
 ousness in the grouping of the party and the
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 285 
 
 arrangement of the drapery. Maguire, wlien 
 all tlie preliminaries were settled to Ids satis- 
 faction, set to work and made the outline of 
 Ms sketch with a rapid but accurate hand. 
 All the while the picture was in progress, 
 talking went on, and even fun was permissible 
 without interfering with the artist's work. 
 The first sitting occupied some time, as all 
 were pleased with the conceit and amused 
 with each other. By the time it was necessary 
 to make a move homeward to join Uncle 
 Threlfall at lunch, the ladies were both of 
 them quite at home with their new acquaint- 
 ance. Both expressed personally their very 
 great regret that Mr. Maguire could not be 
 their guest at the Grange, but they hoped he 
 found everything comfortable at the Drum. 
 Maguire walked part of the way back with 
 his friends, and after arranging for the second 
 sitting on the morrow, turned in the direction 
 of his inn. 
 
 " By Titian !" said Morey, as he sat at his 
 early dinner that day, " a capital suggestion
 
 286 THE BEIDAL BAE. 
 
 that of Claude's. I'll take some pains with 
 that drawiBg and make a good picture of it : 
 Watteau's figures are not first-rate, though 
 graceful and piquant, as Claude said. I'll 
 follow his rich harmonious colouring and easy 
 gracefulness, and make each one a portrait. 
 By Titian, something may come of this Wat- 
 teau conceit ! Julia is certainly a pretty girl, 
 and a very agreeable one too. I'll take pains 
 with her portrait and figure, and make her a 
 present of the picture. I wonder whether 
 she's engaged ? I'll ask Claude to-morrow. 
 No, I won't; he'll think I'm smitten. No, 
 I'll find it out some other way; I'll say nothing 
 to Claude. Fond of the drama, too, not 
 ashamed of the stage. By Jove ! I like the 
 girl. How particularly she spoke about my 
 comfort here ! Comfortable, by Titian ! I am, 
 comfortable ! She sent this ham and all the- 
 rest of the things ; not a doubt of it, it was at 
 her suggestion. A delicious little ham," help- 
 ing himself to another slice. " Couldn't have 
 a more agreeable occupation than to be the
 
 THE BEIDAL BAE. 287 
 
 accomplice of these agreeable young ladies. I 
 wish Claude would be off. He has no time to 
 lose ; and then I shall have to meet them on 
 the sly. We shall make our own assignations. 
 How jolly ! Sha'n't we be intimate ? Oh ! I 
 shall find out whether she's engaged or no. 
 She's not engaged, I'll swear. No, Julia's 
 not engaged. I don't think Julia's engaged." 
 With these thoughts revolving in his mind 
 Maguire, after dinner, threw himself on the 
 couch, and was soon soimd asleep. 
 
 EXD OF VOL. I. 
 
 T. C. Newbt, 30, Welbeck Street, Cavendish Square, London.
 
 3'