LI B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVER5ITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS

 
 */ /^ I'^f^ * 
 
 w 
 
 ■^\ 
 
 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 by 
 
 MARGUERITE A. POWER. 
 
 O hell ! to choose love by another's eyes !" 
 
 Midsufnmer Night's Dream. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 London : 
 
 Saunders, Otlcy, and Co,, Conduit Street. | 
 1859. 
 
 '# 
 
 #; 
 
 The rijht of Translation is reserved.
 
 CO 
 
 TO 
 THE MARQUESS OF LANpOWNE, 
 
 THESE VOLUMES, 
 
 AS THE SOLE TRIBUTE OF 
 
 RESPECT, REGARD, AND GRATITUDE 
 
 IT IS IN THE POWER OF THE WRITER TO OFFER, 
 
 ARE DEDICATED 
 
 WITH ALL HUMILITY, ESTEEM, AND GOOD 
 
 WISHES BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/nellycarew01powe
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 THE STARTING OF THE POSY • . 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 COOLMORE . . . .13 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 FOX AND GOOSE . . .25 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 TWO WOMEN . . ' . 36 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 MERRY CHRISTMAS . . .45
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS . . .56 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 POOR LITTLE SOPHIE ! . . .67 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 THE STRUGGLE . . . .79 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 MOTHER AND SON . . .91 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 TRAINING UP A CHILD IN THE WAY IT 
 
 SHOULD GO . . .99 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 A DEPARTURE AND A RETURN . .110 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 nelly's midsummer holidays . .122 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 HOME, SWEET HOME , . .131
 
 CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 PAGE 
 
 chapt:^ XIV. 
 
 THE FOX IN THE FARM YARD . . 143 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 CARRICK-NA-MOYLE . . .154 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 THE MOORES . . . 1 66 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE . . 1 78 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 ON THE ROAD . . . 189 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 THE FOX TAKES MATTERS IN HAND . 201 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 THE FOX CATCHES A TARTAR . .213 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 HEE CLOSE OF THE HONEYMOON . 225
 
 VIU CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 MR. CAREW HAS AN INSPIRATION . . 236 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 MR. CAREW, SENIOR, RELENTS . . 246 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 THE KECEPTION AT COLNBROOK ABBEY . 257
 
 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE STARTING OF THE POSY. 
 
 It was a December day, and December in Ireland is 
 decidedly not more genial than in most other 
 places ; this day, too, was peculiarly bitter, with 
 a genuine black frost that seemed to enter by every 
 pore in your skin to the very marrow of your 
 bones, making you, if not blest with a particu- 
 larly happy temperament, as crabbed as cold, and 
 inclining you to utter gross personalities to any 
 one who should insult your suffering by talking 
 of a " fine bracing frost," " seasonable weather, "' 
 in your shivering presence. 
 
 At the door of a large, straggling house, of a 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 22 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 very " composite " style of architecture indeed, 
 stood a jaunting-car, in the well or centre-part 
 of which was piled up a quantity of luggage, that 
 nothing but a veritable net-work of strong cords 
 could prevent from toppling over at the first 
 movement of the vehicle. In the shafts was a 
 very bright chesnut mare, yclept "The Posy;" 
 high-boned, but muscular, well built, and clean 
 limbed, with restless ears, and a side-long glance 
 of the eye that suggested a reason for a certain 
 battered look the front of the car presented. 
 
 On the box sat the driver, in a many-caped 
 coat, a battered hat with a remnant of a cockade 
 still attached to it, and a black " cutty pipe," of 
 rankest tobacco, in his mouth; while around were 
 grouped the various hangers-on that habitually 
 contrive to make a living, such as it is, by doing 
 little or nothing in and about such households as 
 that I shall presently have occasion to describe. 
 
 " When'll the missis be back. Lorry?" inquired 
 one of the group of the coachman, so called, 
 though to this profession were attached innu- 
 merable other offices. 
 
 " Sorra a one o' me knows," Lorry replied,
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 3 
 
 with a toss upwards of his head ; then, as if con- 
 scious that his tone might have expressed more 
 than he intended it should do, he added — " She'll 
 not be long, ye may depind; lavin' Miss Ellen 
 behind her." 
 
 Incredulous looks, followed by a laugh, were 
 exchanged among two or three of the party, and 
 then a general stir and suppressed exclamation of 
 " the Missis ! " (whereat Lorry tucked his cutty 
 pipe into his pocket), announced the arrival of 
 that personage ; out she came, a tall, fair woman, 
 young and rather handsome, but with a counte- 
 nance far from attractive, discontented and unin- 
 telligent. 
 
 Beliind her walked a beautiful little girl of 
 twelve years old, with a sweet open face, a com- 
 plexion which even the bitter cold that tinted her 
 mother's nose and dyed the half-clothed hangers- 
 on blue, red, and purple, could not affect ; large 
 deep-blue Irish eyes, "put in," as somebody says, 
 "with dirty fingers;" so thick and black were 
 their fringes, and a profusion of fine dark, shin- 
 ing, wavy hair with warm lights on it, like the 
 tints sunset bestows on the trunk of an Italian 
 
 B 2
 
 4 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 pine. Lastly came a nurse, carrying a weedy- 
 looking little boy of two or three years old, with 
 a very red nose, eyes to match, and a general 
 aspect suggestive of cold in the head acting on a 
 feeble constitution. 
 
 The party mounted the vehicle, not without • 
 difficulty, as on the first indication of such a pro- 
 ceeding, " the Posy " began to testify signs of 
 considerable uneasiness; she flattened her ears 
 and tail till they became nearly invisible, lifted 
 first one leg and then the other, and gave certain 
 upward hitches of her hincJ quarters, which 
 symptoms, evidently neither unusual nor unex- 
 pected ones, were met by Lorry's gathering up 
 his reins tightly in both hands, and tucking his 
 legs as much out of the way as they could be 
 drawn ; while two or three of the bystanders ran 
 to the Posy's head and held it up in the air as 
 high as their arms could be lifted. The rest of 
 the group assisted the travellers to mount, amidst 
 the muttered complaints of the " The Missis," 
 and all being now ready for departure, the signal 
 to start was given by Lorry, in an excited excla- 
 mation of " Let her go, boys ! " accompanied by
 
 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 two or three energetic cuts of the whip, which, as 
 the " boys " sprang back, made the Posy, with a 
 violent twist of her whole body, and an abortive 
 attempt to get her head down, start off at a hand- 
 gallop along the avenue. 
 
 " That beast of a mare!" were the first words 
 uttered by Mrs. O'Dell when, having dashed 
 through the gate, they got fairly on the open 
 road, and the Posy began to moderate her pace 
 into a swinging trot ; " I'm sure Mr. O'Dell will 
 never get rid of her till she's killed somebody ! " 
 
 " Shure, ma'am,*' Lorry ventured to remon- 
 strate, " there's not a quieter baste in the country 
 wanst she's started; it's jist play, divil a bit o' 
 harrum in her if ye know how to dale wid her ; 
 and a jewil to go she is 1" 
 
 A jewel to go she certainly was, for the 
 jaunting-car, laden as we have seen, spun along 
 the road at her heels as she threw^ out her legs at 
 a trot of some twelve miles an hour, her head well 
 up, her ears pricked, and her large, thin, dilated 
 nostrils sending forth volumes of steam on the 
 frosty air. 
 
 In less than an hour they reached the railway
 
 b NELLY CAREW. 
 
 station for which they were bound, and then, as 
 the little girFs journey terminated here, came 
 adieux. 
 
 "Good-bye, Nelly dear," Mrs. O'Dell said, 
 kissing her daughter, " be a good child till I come 
 back, and write to me sometimes; there, kiss 
 Dicky and let us be off, for I want to get good 
 places in the train ; " and away she went, leaving 
 the little girl looking after her in wistful silence, 
 while a man, who had been sent on before, pro- 
 ceeded to unload the jaunting-car. 
 
 " Niver heed. Miss Ellen, darlint," Lorry said, 
 when he and the child were left alone, " ye'll 
 soon be a big lady yerself, and^'ll get the hand- 
 somest gintleman in the counthry for a husband, 
 that '11 take ye to England or anywhere ye like ; 
 only ye mus'n't lave the ould place intirely, me 
 jewel, for there's niver a wan in it can spare ye." 
 
 " No, Lorry, but I'd like to be going with 
 mamma and Dicky for Christmas;" and the 
 pretty lip trembled a little. 
 
 " Howld yer tongue, mavourneen, and I'll get 
 the masther to let me break in the bay cowlt for 
 yer own ridin', and there won't be the like of ye
 
 NELLY CAREW. 7 
 
 two in Ireland. Whoop ! won't ye be goin' over 
 the fences afther the hounds ! " and Lorry snapped 
 his fingers in the air in delighted anticipation of 
 the sight, while Nelly's laugh echoed his triumph. 
 By this time the man charged with the transfer 
 of the luggage, had returned, and once more pre- 
 parations for a start were made somewhat in the 
 former manner, but on a less elaborate scale, the 
 Posy's ten or twelve miles trot having a little 
 sobered her. Soon, therefore, she was safely 
 under weigh, and Lorry and his little charge 
 reached home without accident. 
 
 The history of Nelly's family may be very 
 briefly recorded — 
 
 Her father was an extremely handsome young 
 man of an old Irish family, with a property of 
 some extent ; but, through extravagance and 
 mismanagement, of little value. In a visit to 
 England, when he was barely twenty, he ran 
 away with a girl of sixteen from a boarding 
 school in the environs of London, though it is 
 more than probable that had he taken the more 
 usual but less romantic course of making ac- 
 quaintance with her family and demanding her
 
 8 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 hand in due form, her father, a retired tea-mer- 
 chant, residing in a suburban villa at Fulham. 
 would have been most willing to accord it to him. 
 
 Such a method of proceeding, however, never 
 even occured to him ; he met Miss Winter one 
 evening at the house of a mutual acquaintance, 
 and danced with her so often that the hostess, to 
 whose care she had been confided, found it neces- 
 sary to remonstrate. 
 
 Our hero then prepared a billet, handed out his 
 fair enslaver, and while putting on her cloak, 
 slipped it down her back; two days, or ilather 
 nights afterwards. Miss Winter was missing from 
 her boarding-school, and ere a week from the 
 first interview had elapsed, she came back from 
 Scotland Mrs. Eichard O'Dell. 
 
 Her husband took her to Ireland, to the old 
 place at Coolmore, of which, both his parents 
 being dead, he was already the master. There 
 they settled down for awhile, and there Nelly was 
 born, barely a year after their marriage, which 
 proved anything but a happy one. Richard 
 O'Dell was handsome, and good-natured, and 
 generous enough, when it did not put him out of
 
 NELLY CAKEW. if 
 
 his way to be so; but he was extravagant, reckless, 
 and idle, with no fixed principles, and no self- 
 control. His wife was a mere boarding-school 
 miss, with no marked natural characteristic but 
 a discontented temper, and no acquired one — 
 though that speedily developed itself — of a dislike 
 of and contempt for everything Irish, which 
 sentiments she made no scruple of expressing uii 
 all occasions. 
 
 So the O'Dells rubbed on, and with a very 
 sharp friction, at times productive of the usual 
 result of such contact, to wit, outbreaks of a fiery 
 character ; till Mrs. O'Dell having, at the end of 
 three or four years, paid a visit to her family at 
 Fulham, and found her native air much better 
 suited to her than that of Ireland, took the habit 
 of making long and frequent absences from Cool- 
 more whenever she could find an excuse to do so. 
 
 In her early childhood, Nelly was sometimes 
 allowed to accompany her mother on these visits, 
 but later such indulgences were discontinued. 
 When Nelly was seven years old, a governess 
 was provided for her, and under her charge the 
 child remained during the lengthened periods *>f 
 
 B 5
 
 10 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Mrs. O'Dell's English excursions ; with what 
 advantage we shall presently discover. She had 
 never been a favourite with her mother, and when 
 a boy Avas born, the red-nosed Dicky afore-named, 
 he engrossed whatever of maternal affection re- 
 sided in the lady's breast, leaving Nelly an object 
 of total indifference. Her father was fond of her 
 in his careless way, but no more — he indulged 
 her when it gave him no trouble or inconvenience 
 to do so; but further occupied himself little about 
 her, and it is certain that of all the members of 
 the home-household — Lorry M'c Swiggan was 
 the one from whom she received most care and 
 affection, and on whom she was most dependant 
 for companionship. 
 
 But Nelly had a friend of another class, whom, 
 on her return home, she found in the avenue 
 waiting for her. As the jaunting car approached, 
 a tall, handsome, dark-eyed boy of about fifteen, 
 bidding Lorry not to stop — he was well ac- 
 quainted with the Posy's peculiarities — sprang up 
 beside Nelly, put his arm round her, and kissed 
 her affectionately. 
 
 " Dear Victor ! how nice of you, to be here !
 
 NELLY CAREW. 11 
 
 I thought I should have such a dull day, and here 
 you are come to make it a bright one 1" and she 
 put up her pretty face for another kiss, which was 
 not long withheld. 
 
 " Yes, I knew you'd be all alone, or as good— 
 or as bad, rather — so I came over. You've no- 
 thing to do with the Fox, I suppose ?" 
 
 Kelly's governess was a Frenchwoman, be it 
 known, of the name of Kenouard. From the 
 sound of this patronymic, and from certain pecu- 
 liarities Victor — himself half French— discovered, 
 or fancied he discovered, in her character, he 
 habitually called her le Renard, or the Fox. 
 
 " No, I've Christmas holidays now, and at any 
 rate I can get a half-holiday, you know, whenever 
 1 like, almost, when mamma's away." 
 
 "Ay, but you've no reason to thank her for 
 that, Nelly — non mio liho.^^ And Victor screwed 
 up his mouth, and shook his head disapprovingly. 
 
 "Well, I don't care much about her, either," 
 Nelly said, " because I don't think she cares much 
 about me, or about any of us. But she's good- 
 natured enough — doesn't bother one." 
 By this time they had reached the house, and
 
 12 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Victor, having come provided with a dainty pair 
 of little skates in his ample pocket, took Nelly off 
 to the pond, to initiate her into the mysteries of 
 the Dutch accomplishment.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 13 
 
 CHAPTER 11 
 
 COOLMOKE. 
 
 Not lono; before the breakino^ out of the French 
 Revolution of 1789, a young Irishman, of the 
 name of Dillon, brought up in France, had 
 entered the gard du corps. He had gone loyally 
 and gallantly through all the horrors of that 
 period, had backed Miomandre de Sainte Marie, 
 and Tardivet du Repaire, in their bloodily suc- 
 cessful attempt to keep the infuriate mob, swaying 
 in ominous movement round the palace of Ver- 
 sailles, from entering the royal apartments, and 
 after a hundred hair-breadth escapes, he had, on the 
 deaths of his royal master and mistress, returned 
 to Ireland with his French wife, once a favourite 
 and confidential attendant of the unhappy Marie- 
 Antoinette.
 
 14 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Hence, when comparative peace was restored, 
 family relations recommenced between the young 
 couple and the wife's connexions in France, and 
 these had been continued through the two gene- 
 rations that succeeded, Victor's father having 
 married a Frenchwoman descended from a branch 
 of his grandmother's family. 
 
 , He had died young, and his widow and son 
 had passed most of the years of the latter's child- 
 hood in France. As, however, whatever property 
 Mr. Dillon possessed — it was by no means large — 
 lay in Ireland, Victor's mother had deemed it 
 right, knowing what her husband's wishes and 
 opinions on the subject had been, that the boy 
 should be brought up on the land he inherited, 
 and among the people over whom he was called, 
 in some sort, to exercise authority. 
 
 She, therefore, with a heroism that none who 
 are not acquainted with a Frenchwoman's, and 
 especially a Parisienne's, horror of " expatriation," 
 can at all appreciate, resolutely abandoned, as a 
 residence, the Paradise of her nation, and came 
 with her son, then some seven years old, to 
 settle down at Rosscronan, which was situated
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 15 
 
 not more than two or three miles from Cool- 
 more. 
 
 Charles Dillon and Richard O'Dell had been 
 friends and schoolfellows, though the latter was 
 somewhat the younger of the two. It was natural, 
 therefore, that when the young widow came to 
 reside at Rosscronan, this reason, as well as the 
 near neighbourhood, and the claims of Irish hospi- 
 tality, should lay the foundation of an intimate 
 acquaintance between the two families. It barely 
 did this, it could do no more ; for where there 
 was not a sympathy, and hardly an idea in 
 common, friendship was out of the question. 
 
 Mrs. Dillon, clever, well-educated, high-prin- 
 cipled, and ever influenced by an unflinching 
 attachment to right and duty j having, moreover, 
 like many of her nation, a considerable aflfinity of 
 taste and disposition with the people among whom 
 she had chosen to make her second home, could 
 find little to win her affection or confidence in 
 a woman deficient in every one of these charac- 
 teristics. She would not, however, chiefly for 
 her son's sake, shun intercourse with the only 
 neighbours whose position, might, a few years
 
 16 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 hence, render them almost his only resource in 
 the way of resident society, and even now she 
 felt that his companionship with the little Nelly 
 was the best and safest he could command. 
 
 So the children, notwithstanding the difference 
 of sex and age, had grown constant comrades and 
 fast friends, and were already speculated upon by 
 the tenants and servants of both families, not im- 
 possibly, also, by the heads thereof, as likely to 
 be, in years to come, yet more closely united. 
 
 When Mrs. O'Dell found the labour of teach- 
 ing Nelly to read and write, though the child was 
 neither an unwilling nor an unintelligent scholar, 
 a task beyond her energies to perform, she re- 
 solved to lose no further time in casting the whole 
 care of her daughter, as well as her education, on 
 the shoulders of some one else, and, being wholly 
 helpless herself in this, as in most matters of im- 
 portance, she applied to her more energetic neigh- 
 bour to assist her, the more readily as she thought 
 that when a governess was to be procured, a French 
 one would best answer the purpose. 
 
 With some reluctance, feeling what an amount 
 of responsibility she contracted with regard to
 
 NELLY C AEEW. 1 7 
 
 both parties, Mrs. Dillon consented to make in- 
 quiries on the subject from her friends on the 
 other side of the water, and in due time it was 
 announced that Mademoiselle Sophie Renouard, 
 the daughter of a protegee of one of Mrs. Dillon's 
 relatives, a lady who, by the death of her hus- 
 band, had been left in very unfortunate circum- 
 stances, would be happy to undertake the duties 
 of the post in question, and various testimonials 
 as to the young lady's capabilities were forwarded 
 at the same time. 
 
 She was therefore engaged, and on her arrival 
 Nelly was forthwith confided to her care and 
 authority, and Mrs. O'Dell felt herself more than 
 ever at liberty to increase the number and extend 
 the length of her absences from Coolmore, while 
 her husband, at first angry and impatient at these, 
 grew by degrees wholly indifferent to them, and 
 allowed her to follow her own career undisturbed, 
 of course, however, claiming for himself a similar 
 immunity. 
 
 The house at Coolmore, originally a large cot- 
 tage, had been added to at various periods in any 
 style of architecture that had happened to suit the
 
 18 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 taste or convenience of the actual possessor, till 
 by degrees it had become, with its dependencies 
 of stabling, coach-houses, and outbuildings of 
 every description, almost a hamlet in point of 
 size, thoroughly overgrown and thoroughly ill- 
 kept, within and without, despite the number of 
 persons, half servants, half mere hangers on, who 
 found food and shelter within its walls. 
 
 The gardens, originally extensive and well laid 
 out, were overgrown with weeds: the lawn was 
 turned into a paddock for the run of young stock ; 
 the fences were broken down, and the pleasure 
 ground become a rabbit warren — yet, such were 
 the natural beauties of the place, that even in its 
 decay it was still lovely. 
 
 Here Richard O'Dell lived all the year round. 
 He shot, he fished, he hunted now and then when 
 he could get an opportunity, he attended what- 
 ever races could be got up within twenty or thirty 
 miles round, and he^ bred stock, horses especially, 
 in which lay the chief delight of his existence. 
 
 Frequently he entertained visitors at Coolmore ; 
 officers from the nearest garrison town, brother 
 squires, whose society he enjoyed none the less
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 19 
 
 that he, as a man of some family and the owner of 
 Coolmore, stood higher than any of them in the 
 social scale; and occasionally less desirable ac- 
 quaintances, formed through the medium of his 
 transactions in horse-flesh crept in; and by degrees, 
 as the rarity of his wife's presence in her home left 
 him less and less under any restraint as to the cha- 
 racter of the associates he entertained there, the 
 latter class of guests became more frequent in 
 their visits. 
 
 All this Mrs. Dillon saw with regret and mis- 
 trust, and she took various occasions to invite 
 Nelly and her governess to Rosscronan. Made- 
 moiselle Renouard, however, showed less readiness 
 to profit by these invitations than might have 
 been expected, and her household duties and the 
 care of Nelly's education so constantly prevented 
 her accepting them, that Mrs. Dillon was obliged 
 at last to cease from attentions she found were 
 neither acceptable nor useful ; and it was only her 
 perfect confidence in her son, the knowledge that 
 in his visits to Coolmore he could hardly be said 
 to associate with any member of the household 
 but Nelly, and the consciousness of what an im-
 
 20 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 mense resource this companionship was to both 
 the children, that induced her to lay no hindrance 
 to his intercourse with the O'Dells. 
 
 It was getting dusk when Kichard O'Dell, 
 returning from woodcock shooting, passed by the 
 pond where Nelly was doing much honour to 
 Victor's instructions in skating. He stopped to 
 speak to the children, and witness his daughter's 
 skill. 
 
 " Well done, my birdeen ; " so he generally 
 called her, birdeen being the truly Irish diminutive 
 for bird. " We shall have matches together 
 soon, if you don't break your head in the mean- 
 time. Victor, my boy, lend us your skates for a 
 minute." 
 
 He put them on, and was soon flying over the 
 large pond with such extraordinary rapidity and 
 through such tangled mazes of evolutions, that in 
 the fading light it was difficult exactly to follow 
 the course of his handsome, manly figure ; and 
 Victor, himself a profound adept in the art, gazed 
 in mute but smiling admiration ; while Nelly danced 
 and clapped her hands in enthusiastic satisfaction, 
 till somewhat "blown" with the unusual ex-
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 21 
 
 ertion, Mr. O'Dell came to shore, took off the 
 skates, and bid the children return to the house 
 with him. 
 
 " Of course you stay to dinner, Victor," he 
 said, "and you'd better put up for the night; 
 there's no moon now, and its devilish dark and 
 cold." 
 
 " Oh, that's nothing," Victor replied ; " I don't 
 jcare a sixpence for the walk, it will do me good, 
 and my mother will be expecting me." 
 
 " As you like, my boy. Liberty Hall ; but 
 Lorry shall saddle Nelly's pony for you, and you 
 can bring it back to-morrow." 
 
 Before entering the house, Mr. O'Dell, accom- 
 panied by Victor and Nelly, proceeded to pay his 
 usual evening visit to the stable and loose-boxes. 
 In the former there was the Posy, fresh as if she 
 had never been out of her stall, switching her tail, 
 laying down her ears, trampling the straw, and 
 taking short bites at the edge of the manger when 
 touched or even spoken to. There was Banna- 
 gher, a genuine Irish hunter, up to fifteen stone 
 in any country, good-tempered, steady, and 
 even a little sluggish before his blood was up;
 
 22 ' NELLY CAREW. 
 
 lastly, came Nelly's pony, the Leprechaun, fleet 
 as a deer, capricious and wayward as a coquette, 
 gentle to his mistress alone. 
 
 The loose boxes contained a noble black horse, 
 nearly thorough bred, named the Phooka ; a hand- 
 some gray blood-mare, Molly Bawn, with a foal 
 at her foot, and the "bay cowlt," intended by 
 Lorry for Nelly's especial use and benefit, 
 both home-bred from this pair, and promising 
 at least to equal their parents in breeding and 
 beauty. 
 
 Lorry followed the party in their tour of in- 
 spection, putting in a word for each of his 
 favourites in its turn. 
 
 " Shure it's younger and brighter the Posy's 
 gettin' every day iv her life ; there's not her aqual 
 in the three kingdoms for throttin' ; jist let her go 
 ahead, and she'll pass the milestones till ye'd think 
 it was in a graveyard ye wer ! " 
 
 "Did she kick when you were out to-day?" 
 Mr. O'Dell inquired. 
 
 "Kick?" echoed Lorry, with an expression of 
 half indignant astonishment, " divil a kick, good 
 or bad, kem out iv her ! She's give up them
 
 NELLY CAKEW. 23 
 
 thricks altogether now, niver thinks o' sich a 
 thing at all, at all." 
 
 " She kicked pretty handsomely in the dog-cart 
 the day before yesterday : I thought she'd have 
 smashed it and me too." 
 
 " Shure, sir, it was the breechin' was too tight ; 
 the divil a thing else; ye can't blame her for 
 that." 
 
 Mr. O'Dell smiled incredulously, and the survey 
 continued, till they came to the colt's box. 
 Lorry winked aside at his young mistress. 
 
 " I'm thinkin', sir, it's time to be handlin' 
 him a bit. In another year Miss Ellen 'ill be 
 ready for him." 
 
 " Miss Ellen ? Who told you Miss Ellen was 
 to have him ? " 
 
 " Didn't ye say, sir — well now, see that ! 
 Shure I always undhurstood it was for Miss 
 Ellen you rared him! Any way he's just the 
 thing for her, and she'll be just the weight 
 for him to begin with; and sich a hand and 
 sich a sate ! it '11 be the makin' iv him. 
 When he gets a little used to the cross-threes.
 
 24 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 I'll hang a horse-cloth on them, and she'll be 
 able to ride him in no time." 
 
 "We'll see about that," Mr. O'Dell said; 
 but both Lorry and Nelly knew the point was 
 gained.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 2io 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FOX AND GOOSE. 
 
 Lounging in an arm-chair by the dining-room 
 fire (the drawing-room was rarely used in Mrs. 
 O'Dell's absence), deeply engaged in the perusal 
 of a novel of Paul de Kock, sits Mademoiselle 
 Sophie Renouard. She is a small creature ; who 
 may be any age between twenty and thirty; 
 with just such a face as an habitue of Paris has 
 seen fifty times in a milliner's rooms, or behind 
 the counter at a mercier's shop, a short face, broad 
 across the cheek-bones, which are salient, and 
 have slight hollows below them ; her nose has 
 nothing marked about it; her mouth is large, 
 coarse, and irregularly cut, but has white though 
 uneven teeth ; her eyes are remarkably fine, dark, 
 somewhat sleepy in their habitual expression, 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 but full of latent fire, and overarched by thick 
 black brows ; and her plentiful black hair lies in 
 such close, smooth, heavy folds, that it gives you 
 an idea of having been varnished over after it was 
 dressed. 
 
 She has nothing to speak of in the way of a 
 figure, but somehow her clothes always sit well on 
 it, and make the most of it ; her hands, like nearly 
 all French hands, are short, with stumpy fingers ; 
 but her feet are small, even for her size — (by the 
 by, do you notice that no tall or middle-sized 
 woman ever gives a little one the slightest credit 
 for having small feet or hands, be they never so 
 diminutive, but always exclaims " no wonder ! 
 look what a bit of a thing she is ! ") — and per- 
 fectly chausses. She speaks and moves about 
 quietly; and has, on ordinary occasions, an in- 
 different, passionless demeanour ; if she have feel- 
 ings or a temper, she rarely gives any indication 
 of the existence of either, — and is, to the persons 
 about her, as nearly unfathomable as any one wdio 
 never by speech or act expresses what may be 
 passing in their minds can well be. 
 
 During her stay in Ireland, which now dates
 
 NELLY CAREW. 27 
 
 from between five and six years back, she has 
 learned to speak English quite fluently and almost 
 grammatically, with a very pretty foreign accent, 
 that gives a wonderful charm to her low-voiced 
 speech. 
 
 To any young girl obliged, by unfortunate 
 circumstances, to quit country, mother, and 
 friends, and to settle in a strange land and 
 among utterly strange people, when, moreover, 
 there seemed little chance of her finding among 
 these any great amount of sympathy or consi- 
 deration, it would be natural to accord pity and 
 interest. But in her case you at once saw both 
 were superfluous. She evidently did not want 
 your pity, did not value your interest, did not 
 care for yourself. She kept on her way, — not 
 rejoicing, certainly, but quite calm and uncom- 
 plaining, self-possessed, and self-suflicing ; and no 
 one, during the years she had spent in Ireland, 
 had ever heard her give a hearty laugh or seen 
 her shed a tear, and she avoided companionship as 
 much as she repelled sympathy. 
 
 It may seem strange that any one so inoftensive 
 should awaken strong dislike ; but indifferent as 
 
 c2
 
 28 NELLY CAREW. • 
 
 she was in the eyes of most persons in and about 
 Coolmore, to Victor she was, and had been from 
 the first, an object of marked antipathy and mis- 
 trust, and, little as they came in contact, the 
 silent sense of antagonism was strong between 
 them. In such cases, the woman has always the 
 better game, and in this particular instance the 
 struggle was peculiarly unequal. 
 
 At the sound of the party entering the house, 
 " the Fox " slipped her book behind the pillow of 
 the sofa, stirred the turf fire, and took up a 
 piece of work that lay neglected on the mantel- 
 piece. 
 
 She spoke to Mr. O'Dell and Nelly as they 
 entered, but seemed to take no notice of Victor's 
 presence till he, somewhat awkwardly, saluted 
 her ; she looked at him for a moment in an absent 
 manner, nodded slightly, and continued her speech 
 to Nelly. 
 
 " My dear, where have you been all the after- 
 noon ? I have not seen you since you went out 
 with your mamma." 
 
 " I've been teaching her to skate," said Victor, 
 resolved not to be passed over in this manner.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 29 
 
 He might have spared himself the trouble of 
 making the communication, as Sophie had been 
 watching the operation from an upstairs window, 
 which was the reason she chose to inquire into 
 Nelly's movements, commonly a matter of perfect 
 indifference to her. 
 
 " Ah ! you can skate ?" Sophie said, raising her 
 eyebrows a little. 
 
 " Why, mademoiselle, Victor's the best skater 
 in the place; he wins all the matches!" Nelly 
 burst forth, in the innocence of her heart and 
 pride of her friend's accomplishments ; " ask papa, 
 ask anybody !" 
 
 " I did not know, my dear. Go and prepare 
 yourself for dinner." 
 
 Nelly left the room, and her father soon follow- 
 ing her, Victor was left alone with Sophie. Feel- 
 ing somewhat uncomfortable, he took a seat at 
 the opposite side of the hearth, while she, no 
 whit put out of her way, resumed her work, and 
 stitched on in profound silence. 
 
 " Wretchedly cold day," Victor, who like David 
 Copperfield in the presence of Littimer, felt very 
 young indeed, ventured to remark. Mademoiselle
 
 30 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Renouard nodded without speaking or raising her 
 head. 
 
 Another long pause. 
 
 " You have not been out. Don't you find it 
 dull staying- in the house alone all day ?" 
 
 " I never am dull fxcept when I am with 
 persons who do nO| suit me." 
 
 Victor got up, and began walking to and fro 
 in Ijie room, pausing now and then to look at the 
 pictures of horses that decorated the walls, all of 
 which were familiar to him as the pattern of the 
 paper and of the worn carpet. 
 
 At last Mademoiselle Eenouard condescended 
 to address him. 
 
 " Do you dine here ?" 
 
 Victor was too savage by this time to be 
 abashed, so he said " Yes," very shortly. 
 
 " Will you have the kindness to ring the bell ?" 
 
 It was only across the hearth, but she chose to 
 make him come from the far end of the room to 
 perform that office. When the servant answered 
 the summons, she said, "Lay a cover for Mr. 
 Victor, and tell the cook I want to speak to her. 
 Mr. Victor dines here," Sophie announced, when
 
 NELLY CAREW. 31 
 
 that functionary made her appearance ; " we must 
 add something to the dinner. What have you 
 got in the house T 
 
 The Irish, even of the lower classes, have com- 
 monly a large amount of tact, and Biddy Roonan, 
 glancing distressfully a1| Victor, whose only re- 
 source was to try to get up a song, pretending 
 not to hear, murmured, " Shure, ma'am, there's 
 plenty o' dinner; Masther Victor's no sthranger !' 
 
 "Add a brace of snipe," Sophie continued, 
 " and two of the mince pies I told you to keep 
 for to-morrow." 
 
 Biddy, glad to escape, withdrew in silence. 
 " Them French people doesn't know what man- 
 ners is," she said, when on returning to the 
 kitchen she indignantly related the cause of her 
 summons; "wasn't it an affront to Masther 
 Victor! the crayther; I pitied him, and I was 
 mad with her, to behave that way in the masther's 
 house." 
 
 Lorry, having finished his stable duties, was 
 toasting his shins by the kitchen fire. 
 
 "Ye think," said he, throwing his chin up in 
 the air, " she did it becase she knew no betther. 
 Ah, but yer soft, Biddy Roonan !"
 
 32 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Soon, to Victor's enormous relief, Nelly re- 
 turned to the dining-room, enthusiastic in her 
 reminiscences of the day's amusement, and Mr. 
 O'Dell shortly after joining the party, the Fox 
 fell back into her customary reserve, and Victor 
 almost forgot his recent sufferings. 
 
 He had too much contempt, as well as dislike 
 for her, to allow any vexation her spite could 
 cause him, to disturb his peace for long. 
 
 The gay spirits with which Mr. O'Dell had 
 entered, began to flag as dinner progressed. He 
 drank a good deal of wine, and when the cloth 
 was removed, began the concoction of a pretty 
 strong brew of whisky punch, " raal potheen," 
 innocent of all custom's dues whatsoever. 
 
 Victor and Nelly ere long adjourned to the 
 schoolroom for a game of battle-dore and shuttle- 
 cock, and Mr. O'Dell and Sophie were left alone. 
 
 She laid her work on her lap, and looked at 
 him with anxious, pitying eyes till she saw she 
 had attracted his attention. Then she said very 
 gently :— 
 
 " Forgive me, Mr. O'Dell, if I seem intrusive, 
 but — I am so friendless, you have always shown
 
 NELLY CAREW. 33 
 
 me so much kindness — so much consideration, 
 that if I could — even by my sympathy — be of 
 any use, of any comfort to you it would make me 
 very happy. Something disturbs you; may I 
 know what it is ? " 
 
 Any evidence of feeling on the part of a person 
 we have been accustomed to consider wholly 
 deficient in such a quality, seems so doubly 
 precious ; we are so gratified by having been the 
 one to call it forth ! 
 
 Richard O'Dell was deeply touched. " You 
 are very kind ! I will tell you, for I believe you 
 have both head and heart to enter into my diffi- 
 culties. The fact is, I came into this estate too 
 young, I married too young, and Mrs. O'Dell — 
 but let that pass. The property was left encum- 
 bered at my father's death, and - the truth is that 
 at this moment I might, if I could not depend on 
 my servants and tenants, which I believe I can, 
 be at any time arrested. That's the long and the 
 short of it." 
 
 " But are there no means to be taken to set 
 your affairs straight while you are in this compa- 
 
 C 5
 
 34 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 rative safety ? have you not put them into any 
 one's hands ? " 
 
 " Well, yes, they are in O'Connor's hands ; I 
 believe he's skilful enough aud really well disposed 
 towards me ; but hang it, he wants me to do this 
 and that, to tell him a lot of things I don't know 
 myself, — to draw up a statement — heaven knows 
 what ! I never had any head for business, my 
 wife's not much better, so it's no use talking to 
 her about it, and she hasn't a suspicion of the 
 state of affairs, and what's more, I don't want her 
 to know, if I can help it ; so you see there's scant 
 chance of things coming right of themselves." 
 
 " Will you — forgive me if I seem presump- 
 tuous — will you tell me all you know of the state 
 of your affairs ? will you let me help you to make 
 them clear, and see what can be done?" 
 
 " You don't mean to say you'll take such 
 bother?" 
 
 She smiled : " Try me f tell me as nearly as 
 you can, the exact state of your position, your 
 most pressing difficulties, at least — two heads are 
 better than one." 
 
 He gave as she desired, the recital as far as he
 
 NELLY CAREW. 35 
 
 could make it clear to himself, of his embarrass- 
 ments; and she listened with profound and 
 earnest attention, putting here a question, there 
 a suggestion, that showed how fully she entered 
 into and comprehended the affair. 
 
 " And is this all that troubles you?" she said, 
 smiling, when the re-capitulation was concluded. 
 " Will you have faith in me ? will you put these 
 matters in . my hands ? will you listen when I 
 advise you, and trust that within a year and a 
 half — two years at the outside — I will have set all 
 straight for you ? " 
 . " Do you think it possible?" 
 
 " Possible ! I might reply with Calonne, ' si 
 c'est possible, c'est fait ; si cest impossible, cela se 
 fera ; ' but there is no need to talk of the impos- 
 sible, even with such an assurance. At any 
 rate, do you not think I could and would do as 
 much for you, in my small way, as Calonne for 
 Marie Antoinette?"
 
 36 NELLY CAREW, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TWO WOMEN. 
 
 When the children returned, Sophie was sitting 
 over her work as cahn and impassible as if she 
 had never stirred or spoken since they had left 
 the room. 
 
 Nelly and Victor chatted merrily, and were 
 joined by Mr. O'Dell, who, like all unenergetic 
 and helpless people, was wont to have in others 
 the faith he had not in himself, was fain to believe 
 that easy to others which seemed impossible t(T 
 himself, provided they unhesitatingly asserted 
 such to be the case, and felt nearly as relieved by 
 Sophie's assurances as if the work of relief and 
 safety were already drawing to a satisfactory 
 conclusion. 
 
 Sophie alone sat mute, revolving in that wily
 
 KELLY CAREW. 87 
 
 brain of her's, fifty curiously complicated dreams. 
 In her the spirit of intrigue was so strong that 
 she could not live without exerting it, and every- 
 thing gained through its exercise was doubly 
 precious to her. Perfectly conscious of her own 
 plainness and unattractiveness, she delighted in 
 obtaining the mastery over others by the force 
 of untiring resolution and the fascination of a 
 strong mind and a relentless and wholly unscru- 
 pulous will, whenever she thought it worth while 
 to do so. 
 
 And when the victim was secured, who, that 
 saw that impassible face, those indolent move- 
 ments, could have guessed the fits of dumb exul- 
 tation in which she indulged herself; the resolve 
 to immesh the prey beyond the power of exerting 
 a single effort of free-will, even in trifles, if it so 
 pleased her ; the sort of savage triumph she felt 
 at times in bringing it to her feet and trampling 
 on it, in the mere wantonness of power ! 
 
 She believed she saw the way of getting 
 Richard O'Dell out of his difl[iculties, and she 
 resolved seriously and with little doubt of success, 
 to set to work to do so. This accomplished, she
 
 88 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 wandered off into mazes of speculation so deep 
 and interminable, that we must leave her to 
 follow her course alone. 
 
 Thus she sat, dreaming and scheming until 
 tea-time, with a strange quiet sense of enjoyment 
 of her own unsuspected power, of her own un- 
 dreamt of capacity for evil; a little Asmodeus 
 sitting on the housetop, seeing all that was going 
 on beneath, herself unseen, and grinning at the 
 thought that she could at any time, if it so pleased 
 her, hurl down tiles and chimney-pots on the 
 heads of the inhabitants; they knowing not till 
 too late whence the destruction proceeded. 
 
 I believe there are still, in these our orderly 
 ordinary days, a few persons possessed with devils : 
 I do not think it is in mere human nature to 
 love evil for its own sake, and to feel pride and 
 pleasure in the capacity of inflicting it on little or 
 no provocation. 
 
 It is true we hear of " wholesome hearts turned 
 to gall," of persons " sovu-ed by disappointment, 
 by misfortune ;" I, for my part, have no faith in 
 such transformations. I do not believe that the 
 heart that any external influence can thus aifect
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 39 
 
 could ever have been a wholesome one. I believe 
 that wherever a nature refuses to accept God's 
 judgments, even God's chastisements, the souring 
 process has been at work long ere disappointment 
 or misfortune have come to try that nature. 
 
 I do not, of course, speak of transient fits of 
 rebellion, bitterness, distrust ; we all, the best 
 among us, I believe, have known moments of 
 these. But misfortune is, in itself, if a bitter, 
 yet so strengthening, purifying, and eventuallyj 
 and in its effects, so soothing a medicine, that the 
 moral stomach that permanently transforms the 
 tonic into a poison must, I think, have been 
 originally a hopelessly diseased one. 
 
 Soon after nine, Victor, having done ample 
 justice to Biddy Roonan's potato cakes, mounted 
 the Leprechaun, notwithstanding the very marked 
 objection of that quadruped to such a proceeding, 
 and rode home the well-known road through the 
 lonely moonless night. 
 
 The sound of the pony's hoofs on the gravel 
 was sufficient announcement of his return for 
 those who waited it, and ere he could give his
 
 40 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 usual signal of three taps at the window, his 
 mother herself opened the door to him. 
 
 Such a contrast, the interior into which he 
 entered, with the black, cold, sullen night with- 
 out! 
 
 Such a contrast, the woman he found there, with 
 the woman he had left behind ! 
 
 I can find no word that describes Mrs. Dillon 
 but a word that belongs to her country ; she was 
 gentillesse personified; she was charming to look 
 at without being handsome, so charming that you 
 would not have had a feature in her face altered; 
 her smiling eyes could not have been an iota 
 prettier if they had been cut and coloured accord- 
 ing to the most classical models ; you could not 
 have spared that piquant little retrousse point to 
 her nose for any money ; as to her mouth, a mem- 
 ber of the Academic had, when she was in Paris, 
 passed many laborious hours and consumed an 
 unlimited amount of snuff in composing an im- 
 promptu to be repeated at a soiree where he was 
 to meet her : in which impromptu he informed the 
 company, in most elaborate French, that Cupidon, 
 being one day fatigued, had lain down to repose
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 41 
 
 on the balmy pillows of her lips, and that when 
 he awoke^ he was so enchanted with the repose 
 such a coiich afforded him that he had laid on the 
 upper one his bow, in order to mark that he had 
 taken possession, en perpetuite. 
 
 She had plenty of wavy brown hair, on which 
 was perched the prettiest, nattiest of little caps, as 
 light as a butterfly ; she had a plump, trim figure, 
 on which every dress sat well, the pleasantest of 
 voices, and a certain quality or combination of 
 qualities within her that at thirty-five made her 
 look good ten years younger. 
 
 Victor, familiar as he was with the sitting-room, 
 paused for a moment on the threshold, struck with 
 its aspect. 
 
 " There's not such a room in the country ! 
 Why, what have you been doing to it ? how 
 lovely !" 
 
 During his absence, his mother, aided only by a 
 little orphan protegee of hers, had decorated the 
 apartment with the most beautiful wreaths and 
 garlands of common and variegated holly, ivy, 
 laurel, and other evergreens, and lit up by the 
 lamp and glowing fire and otherwise adorned
 
 42 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 according to her taste, it certainly was a room 
 to see. 
 
 She had stood behind him to watch the effect of 
 her small surprise, and now came forward laugh- 
 ing and rubbing her hands, while in the back- 
 ground stood the aforesaid protegee, Kathleen, 
 enjoying it as much as her mistress. 
 
 " I was so very afraid," said Mrs. Dillon, in her 
 pretty, indifferent English, " that you would be 
 re-entered before we had terminated ! Kathleen 
 and me, we were obliged to work like four. 
 Come, my son, sit down," and, placing him in the 
 arm chair that already awaited him3 she began to 
 untie the woollen comforter her hands had knitted 
 for him, and, first warming the said hands at the 
 fire, to rub his with them. 
 
 " You darling," she said, a soft shade passing 
 over her bright face, as she looked earnestly in 
 Victor's, " you do remind me so by moments of 
 your father. When he was surprised — content — 
 he had just that visage," and thoughts of the days 
 when the " visage" in question had beamed on her 
 as she had given it daily occasion to do, filled her
 
 NELLY CAREW. 43 
 
 eyes with tears, and silenced her for a moment. 
 But for a moment only. 
 
 "How did you find that poor little Nellee? 
 It must have been great comfort to her to have 
 you. You have done well to stay. I would that 
 we could have her to stay with us more often, 
 mais^ shrugging her shoulders, " that institu- 
 teress." 
 
 " Ah, the Fox !" exclaimed Victor, her late con- 
 duct not having added to the tenderness of his 
 sentiments towards her, " I wish she had been at 
 the bottom of the Red Sea before ever she came 
 to Coolmore !" 
 
 This was a source of great trouble to Mrs. 
 Dillon ; she felt almost guilty in the affair, as if 
 the part she had so unwillingly been forced to 
 take in the bringing over of Mile. Renouard 
 rendered her, in some sort, answerable for the 
 result. 
 
 Victor saw his mistake in an instant, and turned 
 the subject at once with an animated account of 
 the day's proceedings, leaving nothing untold but 
 Sophie's insolence to himself. 
 
 It was past eleven before the mother and son.
 
 44 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 with a tender embrace and blessing, parted for 
 the night, leaving the sitting-room yet in a glow 
 with the ruddy embers. 
 
 Then there came in, as there always do to such 
 hearths, the wandering elves that float about in 
 the dark lonely night ; homeless, harmless, solitary 
 creatures, condemned, I know not why, thus to 
 roam about round the dwellings of mortals, unseen, 
 though ever near; doing them small services, 
 whispering kindly thoughts or pretty fancies, and 
 content with the scattered crumbs, the fallen 
 fruit, the spilled milk, and the nightly rest before 
 the embers.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 45 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MERRY CHRISTMAS. 
 
 It was Christmas Day, and the snow, glad to be 
 released from the thraldom in which the black 
 frost had bound it, had fallen liberally all through 
 the night, and lay with its downy hush over the 
 landscape. 
 
 Nelly was up betimes, in the vague expectation 
 which children have, that Christmas has the 
 power in itself of bringing pleasure and enjoy- 
 ment, quite independent of what may be done by 
 those around them to further such effects. 
 
 No one was down when she entered the dinino- 
 room ; the breakfast things were not yet laid, and 
 the sulky, just-lit fire, gave a most undue propor- 
 tion of smoke to the very feeble warmth it dis- 
 pensed. This was not promising, and Nelly fled
 
 46 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 to seek comfort in the kitchen, where a chorus of 
 "My Christmas-box on ye. Miss Ellen !" was her 
 first greeting. 
 
 " I've had no Christmas-box myself," exclaimed 
 Nelly, half in dudgeon, half in good humour, 
 "and at any rate do you suppose I could give 
 Christmas-boxes to such a tribe ? Let me warm 
 myself by the fire, and don't bother me ! " 
 
 " Bless ye, darlint, and shure it was only jokin' 
 they wer ! Here's yer own wee creepy stool ; 
 sit down and take an air o' the fire. An' you, 
 there, jest be off" wid ye to yer business — botherin' 
 here ! Mike, and Tim, and a pack iv idle spal- 
 peens, fiUin' up me kitchin, that I havn't room to 
 turn ! be off" wid ye this blissed minute !" and 
 driving forth the tribe of dependents who had 
 collected in the kitchen with no more definite 
 object than to get such warmth and scraps of food 
 as might be attainable, Biddy Roonan shut the 
 door, and returned to where Nelly was comfort- 
 ably installed on a " creepy" — i. e., low wooden 
 stool — by the ample hearth. 
 
 It was a noble apartment, the kitchen of Cool- 
 more, forming, with its dependencies of scullery.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 47 
 
 pantry, larder, Sic, a distinct portion of the 
 rambling house. At least forty feet long, wide 
 and high in proportion, it was lit with a row of 
 six arched and latticed windows, opposite to which 
 ran a dresser, very indifferently furnished, it must 
 be owned, the whole length of the room. One 
 end was almost entirely occupied by an enormous 
 grate, with boiler and oven, and above there 
 hung, attached to a most alarming and mysterious 
 paraphernalia of iron wheels, a long double chain, 
 which slowly worked up and down, accompanied 
 with a dismal clinking, and occasional groans 
 and creaks, like some terrible and relentless in- 
 strument of torture, that even when not employed 
 in rending and crushing the limbs of shrieking 
 victims, yet hungrily worked on, still claiming 
 fresh prey. Its bark was, however, worse than 
 its bite, it being quite satisfied when a joint of 
 meat was accorded to it to turn round and round 
 before the fire, the terrific engine being simply an 
 old-fashioned smoke-jack. 
 
 Between the Avindows, which were very high 
 up, and over the doors, were nailed deer's skulls 
 and antlers, now decorated with evergreens, and
 
 48 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 protecting the fire-place from the draught of the 
 outer door was a vast oaken tin-lined screen, with 
 shelves, whereon could be laid plates or dishes in 
 immediate requirement. 
 
 " Shure the life '11 be starved out o' ye, a cuishla, 
 afore ye get yer breakwist," Biddy began ; " I'll 
 jist make ye a plate o' stirabout, and here's the 
 lovely new milk, warrum from the cow, to sup 
 wid it." 
 
 The offer was too tempting to be resisted, and 
 Xelly accepted it with considerable satisfaction, 
 and eat the stirabout with no less. Being by 
 this time warm, and having recovered her cheer- 
 fulness, Nelly returned to the dining-room, where 
 Sophie soon joined her, and having touched 
 her forehead with cold lips, began, in her usual 
 imperturbable Way, to prepare breakfast. 
 
 Mr. O'Dell was not long behind. He looked 
 ill and discontented, and the " Merry Christmas, 
 papa," that hung on Nelly's lips, died unspoken. 
 
 They sat down, and breakfast proceeded in 
 almost unbroken silence. Mr. O'Dell hardly eat 
 more than he spoke, and Nelly's stirabout had so 
 damped her appetite, that she was far behind her
 
 NELLY CAREW. ' 4.9 
 
 usual achievements in the eating way ; only 
 Sophie did justice to the smoked salmon, and 
 slim-cakes, and marmalade, feeding tranquilly, 
 and, to all appearance, quite uncognisant of the 
 movements of her companions. From under her 
 heavy lids, though, she was watching every look 
 and motion of Richard O'Dell. 
 
 Breakfast terminated, he walked to the win- 
 dow, and stood looking out absently on the 
 sheeted lawn. 
 
 ^* Shall we not go to church ?" Sophie inquired. 
 In France Sophie had been a Roman Catholic ; 
 on her arrival in Ireland, no questions having 
 been asked on the subject, and she having never 
 attempted to follow any of the rites of that creed, 
 and making no objection to going to the parish 
 church, it was taken for granted she was a Pro- 
 testant, and there the matter rested. 
 
 Mr. O'DeU looked round with a sort of con- 
 traction in his face. "Fow can go, if you like, 
 and Nelly, of course. I'm not fit for it." 
 
 " Do you not think you had better go ?" said 
 Sophie, with a slight stress on the concluding 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 words ; " everybody will be there — let me advise 
 you." 
 
 He paused, irresolute ; then yielded, and went 
 to order the jaunting-car. 
 
 Sophie had made the most of the week that 
 had passed since their first conversation on the 
 subject of his affairs. But at times the constraint 
 she compelled him to put on his inclinations, in 
 order to carry out her views, irritated him, and 
 then, unable to revolt against her, he fell back 
 into his old fits of gloom. He had meant to have 
 had a most jovial Christmas party this year, 
 without any reference as to the means which 
 were to furnish the necessary expenses; on this 
 Sophie had quietly laid her veto, for really, willing 
 as she was to humour him up to a certain point, 
 the folly and extravagance of such a proceeding 
 were too manifest to be sanctioned, and as usual, 
 when crossed in a scheme or deprived of a plea- 
 sure by the state of his finances, Richard O'Dell 
 became very dismal as to their present condition, 
 and very despairing as to any prospect of relief. 
 
 The visit to the stable, in his present state of 
 mind, did not tend to render him happier. Ban
 
 NELLY CAREAV. 51 
 
 nagher and the Phooka had disappeared from 
 their wonted places, purchased by a more wealthy, 
 though far less well-born neighbour, who had 
 long desired their possession, but whose liberal 
 offers had been resolutely refused till Mademoi- 
 selle Renouard had taken matters in hand. 
 
 Lorry M'cSwiggan had seen them go with an 
 aching heart ; but he knew pretty well, in common 
 with the rest of the servants, the state of "the 
 masther's" purse, and bore the parting without a 
 word; so long as the Posy and the bay colt, 
 Nelly's projected palfrey, remained, he was re- 
 solved to suffer in silence. " But if a ban's laid 
 on them," Lorry said, in confidence to his little 
 mistress, "I'll just up and spake to the masther, 
 and tell him it's a bad action he's doin', and thin 
 I'll — I'll — sorra a bit o' me knows what I'll do 
 afther ! You that was born the best lady in the 
 conthry-side, to have to be thrampin' in the 
 gutther like a cotther's wain ! " ^ 
 
 The jaunting-car came to the door, and Lorry, 
 to his infinite distress, saw his master prepare to 
 
 ^ Peasant's child.
 
 52 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 take the reins. He knew what was likely to 
 follow. 
 
 " Shure, sir, hadn't I bether clhrive ? the han's 
 11 be jist froze off ye, and the mare's fresh ; she'll 
 maybe pull, and ye won't find it convanient to 
 hould her, sittin' a wan side." 
 
 " No, no, stuff ! " exclaimed his master ; *' give 
 me the reins and jump up." 
 
 " Won't I take her head, jist at startin' ? " 
 pleaded Lorry, in much disquietude. 
 
 " No, I tell you ; d — n it, do you think I can't 
 drive ? Jump up, I say ! " 
 
 With an inward groan. Lorry did jump up, 
 but not long to remain ; for hardly had Mr. 
 O'Dell given the signal to start, than the Posy, 
 who had been going through various ominous 
 indications of uneasiness during the discussion, 
 let fly a volley of kicks, which being responded to 
 by oaths and furious flogging on the part of her 
 master, she set off down the avenue at the top of 
 her speed, reached the gate, swerved, brought the 
 side of the jaunting-car in violent contact with 
 the gatepost, and down it went with a smash that 
 sent the whole party rolling right and left, and
 
 NELLY CAREW. 53 
 
 turned the Posy herself over on her back, striig- 
 fdmgr with all fours in the air. 
 
 Lorry was the first to get on his feet, half- 
 stunned with the fall, half-blinded and choked 
 with the snow, into which he had fallen face 
 downwards ; his first thought was for Nelly, but 
 she was already beginning to scramble up; and 
 thinking to himself, with regard to Sophie, " the 
 divil knows how to take care of his own," he 
 turned to assist his master, who, in truth, was 
 sorely in need of aid. 
 
 It was on his and Lorry's side that the car had 
 come in contact with the gatepost, but he had 
 been in too great a rage to think of his own 
 safety, and follow Lorry's precaution of gathering 
 up his legs as he saw the danger approach; the 
 consequence was that, when the servant came to 
 his assistance, he found him lying insensible, and 
 on attempting to lift him his left leg dropped — 
 evidently fractured above the knee — and a groan 
 of intense agony struck chill through the hearts 
 of the hearers. 
 
 " Och what '11 we do at all, at all !" exclaimed 
 poor Lorry, with the helplessness the Irish of his
 
 54 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 class generally manifest in the first moments of 
 difficulty and danger; "the masther, the poor 
 masther ! divil fly away wid' me for decavin' him 
 about yon hell-cat of a mare ! Och, och..." 
 
 "Will you hold your tongue," said a stern, 
 low voice, beside him; "go home and fetch a 
 hand-barrow, a shutter, a door, anything of the 
 kind, with a mattress and blankets on it ; let Jim 
 get on Miss Ellen's pony and gallop to Dr. Ryan, 
 telling him to come instantly, and what he's 
 wanted for — run for your life ! And you, Nelly, 
 give me your handkerchief, and support your 
 father's head off the snow." 
 
 Sophie's directions were obeyed instantly and 
 in silence, for though Nelly trembled and her 
 tears fell fast, she uttered not a word ; while the 
 governess, looking about till she found a flat 
 splinter of wood from the debris of the jaunting- 
 car, placed it under Richard O'Dell's leg, and 
 skilfully and tenderly bound it there with her 
 own and Nelly's handkerchiefs, so as to keep it in 
 its natural position. 
 
 By this time the temporary litter, surrounded 
 by a troop of dependants, male and female, had
 
 NELLY CAREW. 55 
 
 arrived ; and Sophie, supplying head, eyes, and, 
 in some degree, hands for the whole posse, Mr. 
 O'Dell, who had not yet recovered his senses, 
 was placed upon it, and the melancholy procession 
 wended its way slowly homewards.
 
 56 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. 
 
 Dr. Ryan arrived in due time, with an assistant, 
 and the leg was set. "But," he said, "the frac- 
 ture was a very bad one, and required the ex- 
 tremest care to prevent the leg from shortening." 
 All directions were, of course, left with Sophie, 
 whose quiet, resolute manner was the best assur- 
 ance to the surgeon that they would be properly 
 carried out. 
 
 At the first moment of leisure Sophie sat down 
 to write to Mrs. O'Dell; Nelly had proposed doing 
 so, to relieve her of the trouble, but had been 
 strictly prohibited. 
 
 " You would not know what to say, and would 
 only frighten your mamma unnecessarily," was 
 the reason she gave. " You must not, whenever
 
 NELLY CAREAV. 6 / 
 
 you write to her, tell her anything to alarm her ; 
 you must let me see your letters, mind, that I may 
 be sure you say what is proper." 
 
 Sophie's own letter was most considerate of 
 Mrs. O'Dell's conjugal feelings; "the leg," she 
 said, " was injured, but Dr. Eyan had set all right, 
 and there was no doubt but that, in a short time, 
 it would be much better. At any rate, Mrs. 
 O'Dell might depend upon her doing whatever 
 might be necessary with as great care and atten- 
 tion as it was possible for any one to bestow, and 
 if any unfavourable change, which was not the 
 least likely, should occur, or that Mr. O'Dell 
 wished for her return, she would, of course in- 
 stantly apprise her." 
 
 " I knew that abominable beast would half kill 
 somebody before we were done with her !" Mrs. 
 O'Dell exclaimed, not without triumph, when she 
 received Sophie's epistle ; " I said so the very day 
 we were leaving home, did not I, Eliza ?" appeal- 
 ing to Dicky s attendant, " but poor dear Richard, 
 he is so wilful ! Well, it can't do any good my 
 going home now, at all events ; that little Made- 
 moiselle Renouard's a clever littl'e thing, and can 
 
 D 5
 
 o8 NELLY CARE^r. 
 
 do everything that's wanted as well as I could. 
 At any rate^ Richard might have asked me to 
 come if he'd wished to have me, so I shall just 
 stay where I am till I hear more about it." 
 
 How Sophie rejoiced inwardly at the receipt of 
 the answer to her epistle, the which answer 
 differed but little, either in substance or ex- 
 pression, from the speech above quoted ! 
 
 Both Nelly and Mademoiselle Renouard had 
 been considerably bruised by the fall, and the 
 latter's cheek was cut. She had not felt it at the 
 time, but when, on retiring for a few minutes to 
 her room, after seeing Mr. O'Dell laid on his bed, 
 she perceived the blood, she smiled, washed it 
 away, and, cutting a piece of sticking-plaster 
 many degrees larger than the wound, applied it, 
 and carefully examined the effect in the glass, 
 with evident satisfaction. 
 
 Altogether she was much gratified with the 
 state of affairs, and took her post as nurse by the 
 side of the poor suffering man's bed, with a con- 
 scientious resolve to fulfil the duties thereof in a 
 way that should not be forgotten. 
 
 And truly her's was no light task. Men — I
 
 NELLY CAREW. o9 
 
 have seen one or two exceptions in my life, 
 not more — are troublesome invalids, and should 
 most decidedly be entitled zmpatients, when la- 
 bouring under illness, of whatever kind. 
 
 This is more particularly the case when the 
 physique is stronger than the moral, and our friend 
 Richard, not the most enduring of men, under 
 ordinary circumstances, was intolerable under the 
 happily very rare attacks of suiFering he had as 
 yet encountered. 
 
 Now, compelled to follow the minutest direc- 
 tions to the letter, to abstain from any movement 
 unassisted, he chafed like a chained lion, and truly 
 marvellous was the control Sophie exercised over 
 him and over herself. 
 
 She would sit up alone through the long, black, 
 dreary, winter nights, listening to the howling 
 wind and the driving sleet outside, to his feverish 
 breathing and moaning, his fretful complaints 
 within; she would sit by his bed the greater por- 
 tion of every day, feeding and tending him like an 
 infant, till the hollows under her cheek bones 
 grew deeper and sallower, and her large eyes 
 larger and heavier. She was rarely tender with
 
 60 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 hliii, and It is hard to say if, even in the moments 
 when, thanks chiefly to her skill and care, he felt 
 relief and comparative ease, his gratitude had 
 much that was expansive and aifectionate in it. 
 
 " Perfect love driveth out fear," and certainly 
 fear, or anything approaching to it, driveth out 
 love no less effectually. Sophie knew perfectly 
 what his feelings towards her were, but the ab- 
 sence of love was nothing. 
 
 To Nelly the period of her father's illness 
 threatened to be one of the most dreary isolation, 
 idleness, and ennui, for Victor and his mother had 
 gone to spend some time with friends at a distance. 
 She would fain have assisted Sophie in her nur- 
 sing, but some how or other the latter, even when 
 in very small matters she accepted her services, 
 made her feel rather in the way than otherwise. 
 
 The weather, too, was so bad that she could go 
 out but little, and the greater part of her time 
 was spent in wandering listlessly about the ram- 
 bling, desolate house, reading any books she could 
 get hold of, among others, a stray volume or two 
 of Sophie's choice collection of French novels and 
 plays, and sitting in the harness-room with Lorry,
 
 NELLY CAREW. Gl 
 
 listening to tales of the Banshee, the Phooka, to 
 say nothing of Clurichauns, Leprechauns, " wee 
 men," and changelings, innumerahle, and to songs, 
 the ??«//* outspokenness of many of which did not 
 in the least shock either, seeing that the singer, 
 like all of his class in Ireland, attached no idea of 
 impropriety whatever to many details and expres- 
 sions, especially when employed in the ballad 
 form, that are inadmissible of utterance to ears 
 polite, and that Nelly, in her perfect innocence, 
 passed over as mere portions of the narrative the 
 song contained, words and sentences which had no 
 particular or definite meaning for her, and the 
 comprehension of which was not in the slightest 
 degree necessary to her enjoyment of the ditty. 
 
 There, by the turf fire, sat Lorry, on a low 
 stool, rubbing a curb-chain between his hands, to 
 polish it, while Nelly occupied the only chair in 
 the warm corner, her occupation being that of 
 mending Lorry's waistcoat, a task which, on her 
 entrance, she had found him striving, with indif- 
 ferent success to perform, and which she had, 
 almost by force, compelled him to resign to her. 
 
 He was carolling, one after another, her favour-
 
 62 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 ite ballads, to which she listened with flattering 
 attention. 
 
 " Oh, it was me criiil pah-rents, they did me first threpan, 
 They married me to an ould man for the sake of money an' 
 
 Ian', 
 Me haart is filled with sorrow, an' I'll tell ye the raison 
 
 why, 
 For his brow is always hangin' an' he has a jealous eye. 
 
 • 
 " ' Och, its hould yer tongue, dear Sal-ly, until I go to 
 
 town, 
 I'll buy ye a bayver bon-net, likewise a mus-selin gown, 
 There's not a lady in the Ian' that can with you cow-pare, 
 An' I'll buy ye a lit-tle lapdog for to follow yer jantin' 
 
 k-yar.' 
 
 " To the divil I pitch yer lapdog, yer jantin' k-yar like* 
 
 wise, 
 I'd rather have a young man with a pair of sparklin' eyes," 
 
 &c., &c. 
 
 Lorry did not abstain from proceeding further 
 with the lady's explanations of the reasons of her 
 preference of a young man over an old one, but I 
 do, for though I really don't consider them very 
 shocking, some of my readers may. As I said 
 before, neither Nelly nor Lorry did. 
 
 " Sing me about the goat. Lorry."
 
 NELLY CAKEW. 63 
 
 The goat was a song composed by some minstrel 
 unknown to fame, on the occasion of the establish- 
 ment of the new police in Ireland, under the 
 administration of Sir Robert Peel ; hence the 
 appellations bestowed on the members of that 
 force, whose popularity the following song will 
 give some notion of: 
 
 " A bunch o' ' peelers' went out wan night 
 
 On duty ov pathroUin' O, 
 They met a goat upon the way, 
 
 They took her to be a sthroUer, O. 
 
 " With bay-nets set they all rushed forth, 
 And caught her by the wizzen,^ O, 
 
 A mighty oath they all swore then, 
 They'd march her off to prison, O. 
 
 " ' Murther !' aloud the goat does cry, 
 
 ' Come let me tell me story, O, 
 I am no rogue nor ribbon-man,- 
 
 No croppy ^ an' no tory,^ O ; 
 
 ' " Wizzen," beard. 
 
 - " Ribbon-raan," as opposed to Orange-man. 
 ^ " Croppy," Roman Catholic. 
 
 * " Tory," the name originally given to Irish malcon- 
 tents.
 
 64 NELLY CAREW* 
 
 " ' Guilty not of any crime, 
 
 Of threat'nin' ^ nor high thraison, O, 
 
 iVIe tribe is a wand'therin' at this time, 
 For this is the wand'thrin' saison, O.' " 
 
 "Lorry," interrupted Nelly, gravely, "I was 
 singing that song the other day, and papa laughed, 
 and asked me if / were a croppy and a tory, too. 
 What did he mean ?" 
 
 Lorry looked up innocently : — " Sorra a wan o' 
 me knows, darlint." 
 
 " But you know what croppy means, Lorry, 
 for when Orange Kate sang 'Croppies lie down,' 
 the other day, you were mad with her, and I 
 know whenever she wants to vex any of you she 
 sings that and 'the Protestant boys/ And what's 
 this other song? — 
 
 " Bunny's mother's got an ass, 
 Won't let a body pass, 
 But them that goes to mass 
 And sing — " 
 
 Some Irish words, I don't know what." 
 
 ^ " Threatening," putting up threatening notices to land- 
 lords or their agents.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 65 
 
 Lorry's face darkened — " Miss Ellen, me jewel, 
 if ye care wan sthraw about yer poor ould Lorry, 
 that 'ud go barefoot through fire an' wather to 
 save a hair o' yer darlin' head from harrum, ye'll 
 never sing wan o' thim divil's songs in me hearin', 
 agra. Never mind what them words manes, 
 asthore, ye'll know it soon enough, an' I hope an' 
 pray the day '11 never come when ye may know it 
 to yer cost." 
 
 Nelly looked at him wonderingly with her deep 
 blue eyes, marvelling what power lay in two or 
 three words, in, what appeared to her, an unmean- 
 ing song, to waken up this latent and concen- 
 trated fire in the heart of her usually peaceful 
 and good-humoured domestic. Nelly did not 
 know what bitter and relentless hatreds are born 
 of what is called the love of God, among some of 
 those who differ in the modes of manifesting 
 that love. 
 
 As, however, Lorry vouchsafed no further ex- 
 planation, and that she saw the subject was one 
 that would not bear to be dwelt upon, she re- 
 turned to her task in silence, till the sound of a 
 horse's feet approaching drew her to the door.
 
 66 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 It was Victor, returned from his holiday only 
 the night before, and come off at once through 
 the rain to see how his little friend fared ! 
 
 " Dearest Victor I" " Darling Nelly !"— they 
 were so pleased, so tender, so innocently and 
 perfectly happy! As they walked off to the 
 house, the boy with his arm round the child's 
 waist, her bright face lovingly upturned to his. 
 Lorry stood looking after them, bareheaded, hold- 
 ing the horse, in the rain. 
 
 " The blissed Virgin and the holy saints make 
 yer beds this night, me darlin' childhre, and may 
 I live to see ye man an' wife, and to nurse yer 
 Avains on me knees, as many a time I nursed you, 
 Aileen, acuishla-machree ;^ me darlin' ye wer, 
 and the joy o' me haart, and the light o' me eyes, 
 Amin !" 
 
 As they disappeared in the doorway. Lorry 
 first became cognisant of the fact that he was 
 getting wet through, and that the sooner Carolan 
 was got into the stable, rubbed down and fed, the 
 better. 
 
 ^ " Acuishla-machree," pulse of my heart.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 67 
 
 CHAPTEK VIL 
 
 POOR LITTLE SOPHIE ! 
 
 " Nelly, I'm going to take you home with me, 
 if the Fox will let you go," Victor announced, as 
 soon as they got into the house. 
 
 " No ! — really ? that would be charming ! I 
 wonder if she'll allow me ! — maybe she will, as I 
 can't be of any use to her here, and havn't any 
 lessons now." 
 
 " Go and ask her at once. Of course my asking 
 would be a reason for her to refuse ; but say my 
 mother is most anxious to have you for awhile, 
 and will be very glad if she'll let you go." 
 
 Nelly went off slowly, and with an anxious 
 heart. When she arrived at the sick-room door, 
 she paused before she gained courage to enter 
 and make her request. Would Mademoiselle
 
 68 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 E-enoiiard refuse it? — might not her father, little 
 as she saw of him, useless as she was to him, 
 think it unkind, her wishing to leave him now ? 
 She was half tempted to turn back, but before 
 she could make up her mind what course to 
 adopt, the door suddenly opened, and Sophie 
 stood before her, with a face of angry suspicion, 
 that made her feel as embarrassed and nearly as 
 guilty as if it were justified. 
 
 " What are you doing here, Nelly ?" she in- 
 quired, after a pause, in her low voice, but speak- 
 ing quicker and more sternly than was her wont. 
 
 " I only came — Victor has brought a message 
 from Mrs. Dillon, to ask if you would allow me 
 to go and stay with them for a little while — if 
 you and papa don't want me." 
 
 " Come in." She drew Nelly over the thresh- 
 old, shut the door, and led her to the side of her 
 father's bed. " Here is Nelly wishes to go to 
 spend some time at Rosscronan. Have you any 
 objection to her going, Mr. Dillon ?" 
 
 " Not I, she may go if she likes," replied 
 Richard, peevishly ; " I wonder who'll want to 
 start off and leave me next ? it's a blessed thins
 
 NELLY CAKEW. 69 
 
 to be a family man, I must say, according to my 
 experience. I might die here like a dog, if it 
 were not for you.''^ 
 
 " Dear papa !" Nelly said, in deep distress, 
 " indeed, indeed I don't want to leave you ; but 
 I'm of so little use to you — I'm sure I wish I 
 knew how to be of more — and Mrs. Dillon and' 
 Victor — I could only bring the message, you 
 know. But I won't go — I had rather not now, 
 indeed." 
 
 " StuiF, child, you know you do want to go. 
 There, don't cry, I'm not angry. You must have 
 a devilish dull time of it here, sure enough, poor 
 little birdeen; the change will do you good. 
 There, go and get your things together. When 
 do you want to start ?" 
 
 " Victor is here now ; he wants to take me 
 back with him." 
 
 " Is he here ? I should like to see him ; I am 
 so deuced sick of this infernal shut-up room, and 
 of never seeing a soul but Ryan, with his potato 
 face. Tell Victor to come in." 
 
 " I do not think you are wise," Sophie said,
 
 70 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 " you will talk and agitate yourself, and have a bad 
 night." 
 
 " Hang itj I don't care ; I loonH die of ennui 
 out and out." 
 
 Sophie shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " As you will." 
 
 Nelly went and fetched Victor; the handsome 
 boy's face seemed to bring a moment's gleam of 
 satisfaction to the poor sufferer. 
 
 " W ell, my boy," he said, " here I am, laid up 
 in lavender, for an indefinite space of time. Come 
 and sit down for awhile, and tell me about your 
 mother, and your holiday, and if you've had any 
 hunting or sport with the birds." 
 
 Victor related, with infinite zest, a variety of 
 adventures in the field, which were listened to 
 with eager interest. 
 
 '' Devil take that mare," Mr. O'Dell said, " if 
 it hadn't been for those confounded heels of hers 
 I should be in the thick of all that now. I sup- 
 pose there never was such a year for wood- 
 cocks." 
 
 Sophie, who had been assisting Nelly to pre- 
 pare her clothes, and to pack her small port-
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 71 
 
 raanteau — her wardrobe was neither extensive 
 nor in first-rate repair — now returned, and an 
 instant check was put on the conversation. It 
 dropped into broken commonplaces and then 
 flagged altogether. 
 
 " How do you propose taking Nelly ?" Mr. 
 O'Dell asked, " I wouldn't venture my poor 
 birdeen's neck behind that kicking devil, and the 
 pony won't go in harness, even if hfe were big 
 enough. She can't ride on account of the rain 
 and of the carriage of her toggery," 
 
 " I can put Carolan into the dog cart and send 
 it back some how or other in a day or two." 
 
 Nelly's appearance was the signal for departure. 
 She came forward timidly to kiss her father, her 
 confidence not increased by a sharp — " Take care, 
 take care ; gently, Nelly ; you must not lean on 
 your father that way !" from Sophie. 
 
 They were gone, the happy children, full of 
 youth, and life, and vigour, without a care, or a 
 pain, or a fear, or thought for the morrow ; and 
 he, in the prime of manhood, when, in the course 
 of nature, he ought to be as fresh and full of the 
 enjoyment of existence and as light hearted as
 
 72 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 they, lay here in ceaseless suffering, more helpless 
 than a child, dependent for every care, every 
 assistance on an alien and a stranger, who made 
 him pay for her services by the most utter abro- 
 gation of his own will in favour of every exercise 
 of hers. 
 
 Revolving these thoughts, Richard O'Dell lay 
 on his bed, watching his nurse, as, in the waning 
 light of a wet winter's day, she sat by the win- 
 dow, finishing a piece of work. 
 
 He followed the unbeauteous lines of her sallow 
 face, now unrelieved by the lustre of her fine eyes, 
 that, when she looked up, went so far to redeem 
 its plainness. He marked the coarse modelling of 
 the bones about the mouth, projecting beyond the 
 hollows of the cheeks; the thick, black brows, 
 now bent over some difficulty in the work ; the 
 absence of all freshness, of all sweetness, of all 
 charm about her, and he wondered how he, the wor- 
 shipper of beauty, the slave to its influence, could 
 allow himself to be bound, hand and foot, by that 
 little, insignificant, ugly, almost repulsive crea- 
 ture, who seemed to him no more of a woman, 
 invested with a woman's charms and attributes,
 
 NELLY C AREW. 73 
 
 than the spider he somethnes lay listlessly watch- 
 ing in her cobweb in the corner. 
 
 The next thought was one of self-reproach. 
 Was this his gratitude for all her devotion, all her 
 patience, all her care for him, both in purse and 
 person? Without her what would become of 
 him? Who would and could tend himself and 
 guide his affairs with the skill, interest, and pros- 
 pect of success that she did ? What claim had he 
 on her that she should thus take on herself, unas- 
 sisted, the duties his own wife declined? 
 
 Could she be but a little better looking, a little 
 softer, more womanly ! 
 
 "Why then," said Richard, to himself, "I 
 should fall over head and ears in love with her, 
 and there, turn out how it might, would be the 
 devil to pay ; so perhaps it's better as it is. Poor 
 little Sophie ! I wonder if she'll ever get any man 
 to look at her! it's an awful misfortune to a 
 woman, I do think, to be so wretchedly plain, — 
 must be such a constant source of mortification to 
 her. I'm deuced glad Nelly isn't a fright; by 
 Jove, she'll break hearts by the score ere many 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 more years go over her head. She'll be a real 
 beauty, if I know anything about the matter." 
 
 It was now too dark for Sophie to work any 
 longer. She came, stood beside him, and said, in 
 her usual slow, passionless tones — 
 
 " Let me feel your pulse. Ay, quicker than it 
 ought to be. I thought so, I knew you were 
 over-exciting yourself." 
 
 She prepared a draught for him, administered 
 it, and then took her accustomed place by his bed. 
 And the darkness slowly crept on, blotting out all 
 the objects, and leaving no sound but that of the 
 wild wind's sorrow, as it burst out in fitful shrieks, 
 which subsided into long wails and sobbings, 
 while the rain, like its passionate tears, dashed 
 against the window panes, and of the ticking 
 of Richard's old family watch, lying on the table 
 by his bed. 
 
 " This is a dreary life for you. Mile. Renouard," 
 Mr. O'Dell said, after a pretty long silence. He 
 still felt repentant for his late thoughts concern- 
 ing her, and had begun, somehow, to perceive 
 dimly, that if his present condition was not of the 
 happiest, neither was hers quite a bed of roses.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 75 
 
 " I do not mind it," she said ; her voice sounded 
 more pleasantly when you did not see her face. 
 " I am very glad to be of service to you, and for 
 the rest, my life is of so little use or enjoyment to 
 myself that it is a good thing, and quite natural, 
 if I can employ it in any useful way for others. 
 I never had any youth, any of the freedom from 
 care, the spirit, the buoyancy, the hopefulness that 
 make youth sweet to others, so that I am, perhaps, 
 fitter for the place I hold than many happier and 
 better women would be." 
 
 "I'm afraid yours has been a very sad life. 
 Won't you tell me something of it ?" 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! there is so little to tell. i\Iy 
 father, who was a retired officer, and had obtained 
 the cross of the Legion (fFIonneur, had a small 
 place under government, and I, who was his only 
 child, was sent to a convent to be educated. He 
 died, however, when I was but ten years old, and 
 as my mother could not afford to pay my pension 
 any longer, I was taken home for a couple of 
 years, where we lived, she and I, in something 
 amounting at times to abject poverty. My mo- 
 
 E 2
 
 76 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 ther's health was weak too, and many a time had 
 I, a child of that age, to perform, as far as it was 
 possible, all the duties of the menage, when she 
 was unable to leave her bed. 
 
 " There was one winter, I remember it well, 
 we had a garret, au cinquieme, in the Rue St. 
 Lazare ; the snow drifted in under the slates, and 
 as we had no fire, except what we lit for cooking 
 and then extinguished, it remained like dry salt 
 on the bare tiles of the floor. My mother was ill 
 in bed, and I used to wrap her cloak over me, sit 
 on the floor, on an old hearth rug we had, my 
 knees up to my chin, breathing on my hands to 
 warm them, and examining the shapes of the snow 
 flakes as they lay there before me, by way of 
 pastime. 
 
 " At last Madame B found us out; she 
 
 visited us, and she and the other ladies of a 
 charity she patronised, gave us what we imme- 
 diately required, and when, by this means, my 
 mother got better, and was able to go about and 
 do needle-work, they sent me to school, where I 
 was educated for a governess, and obtained my
 
 NELLY CAREW. 77 
 
 diploma.* That is the whole stoiy. You may 
 suppose, therefore, that mj present life, with 
 what you have done to lighten the hardness of it, 
 is, on the whole, easier than any I have hitherto 
 known ; and that I am very glad to make it of 
 some use to you." 
 
 " What I have done to lighten it ? why, I 
 have given you, of late especially, nothing but 
 fatigue, and labour, and vexation ! " 
 
 " I have not felt it so, believe me ; but you 
 must not talk any more now. I will go and see 
 about your tea, and you keep quiet till I come 
 back." 
 
 " What a brute I am ! " was the substance of 
 Mr. O'Dell's musings when the light step was out 
 of hearing ; " poor little soul, what a life ! how is 
 it to be wondered at that she should be — as she 
 is, in short " 
 
 From that day forth he submitted to her, 
 except on rare occasions, when weariness and 
 
 ' In France, when a girl is educated with the express inten- 
 tion of becoming a teacher, she has to undergo a certain 
 examination, which, if she pass, she obtains a diploma; 
 without this she is not considered formally eligible for such 
 a, post.
 
 78 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 irritability were stronger than she, not only in 
 act, as he had done before, but with a compara- 
 tive cheerfulness, readiness, and forbearance, new 
 to him under opposition ; and as he became more 
 tractable, she grew, at times, a little less unbend- 
 ing. Then she would condescend to talk and 
 read to him, and plan short excursions in the 
 Spring, when he should be able to get about a 
 little, and allow him small indulgences. All of 
 which favours he received with a profound sense 
 of grateful satisfaction, which daily grew on him 
 the conviction that without her to lean on, he 
 were a lost man.
 
 NELLT CAREAV. 7.9 
 
 CHAPTEE YIII. 
 
 THE STRUGGLE. 
 
 It was not till the end of February that Mrs. 
 O'Dell returned to Coolmore. Lorry drove Nelly 
 once more to the station, to meet her mother on 
 her return, but this time it was Mollj^ Bawn, 
 with her foal trotting by her side, that was 
 between the shafts. 
 
 An adventurous youth among Mr. O'Dell's 
 horse-fancying acquaintance, nought daunted by 
 the knowledge of the Posy's little peculiarities, 
 had bought her after the accident for about half 
 what Mr. O'Dell had given for her ; and though 
 Lorry's heart turned towards her with deep 
 relenting tenderness at parting, he had not a word 
 to say against the separation.
 
 80 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 The meeting between Mrs. O'Dell and her 
 daughter was quite as calmly philosophical on the 
 part of the former as the parting had been. She 
 kissed her, asked how papa was, and then turned 
 to give directions respecting the luggage, about 
 which she was sure those " stupid brutes," the 
 Irish porters, would make every mistake that it 
 was possible to contrive. 
 
 So Nelly turned to find consolation in Dicky, 
 who was still labouring under, apparently, the 
 same cold in the head from which he had been 
 suffering at his departure. 
 
 They formed a singular contrast, those two 
 children of the same parents ; the one beautiful 
 as a budding Hebe, with the free, pure, healthy 
 blood coursing through her veins, and giving her 
 life and loveliness, health and sweetness ; the love 
 of life and the love of nature, animate and inani- 
 mate, beaming through her beauteous eyes, play- 
 ing round her smiling mouth. The other with a 
 pale sickly life in him that vegetated feebly, and 
 liad no surplus force, after keeping up the principle
 
 NELLY CAREW. 81 
 
 of existence, to expend in giving beauty and anima- 
 tion and all that renders existence enjoyable. 
 
 In their dress even, the contrast was marked. 
 Nelly's British merino frock was faded, torn, and 
 very indifferently mended in various places ; her 
 cloak, of the same material and of ancient cut, 
 bore also undoubted evidence of havino- seen 
 much, or at all events, severe service ; and her 
 sunburnt summer straw bonnet, with its faded 
 ribbons and by-gone shape, needed the face that 
 beamed under it to prevent its attracting notice 
 as a very fitting head-gear for a scarecrow. Strong 
 leather boots, laced up in front with "whangs,' 
 i.e., thongs of the same material, lambswool stock- 
 ings, a considerable extent of which the out- 
 grown frock left to the beholder's gaze, and blue- 
 striped woollen mittens completed her attire. 
 
 Beside her blazed Dicky in the last costume 
 the goddess Fashion had devised as the uniform 
 of her infant votaries. He had a pelisse with a 
 vast cape of blue cloth richly braided ; he had a 
 vaster hat, spreading umbrageously some six 
 
 E 5
 
 82 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 inclies beyond the outermost limits of his very 
 puny person, decorated with an enormous scarlet 
 cockade, and a perfect grove of feathers to match, 
 beneath which his poor little peevish yellow face 
 looked 3^et yellower and more washed out and 
 feeble, while all the accessories of his toilette were 
 combined with the utmost attention to enhance the 
 general effect. 
 
 At last they were under weigh and getting 
 along somewhat irregularly, Molly Bawn's move- 
 ments being considerably affected by her maternal 
 anxieties : for now the foal would linger behind, 
 which caused the fond parent to slacken her pace, 
 turn her head from side to side, and utter neigh- 
 ing appeals to the laggard ; anon that indiscreet 
 young quadruped would canter airily past and, 
 flinging its heels in the air, proceed at a headlong 
 pace in advance, wdien it took nearly all Lorry's 
 strength to prevent the anxious mother, whose set 
 ears indicated a firm resolve that nothing should 
 check her in or turn her to the right or left of the 
 course she was bent on pursuing, from adopting
 
 NELLY CAREW. 8S 
 
 the same pace, utterly regardless of the con- 
 venience of those behind her, or if the road it 
 pleased the foal to follow were the one that 
 tended towards their destination. Whereat Mrs. 
 O'Dell's anger was many times roused, and vented 
 in denunciation that made Lorry's patriot blood 
 boil in his veins, and his eye kindle, and his teeth 
 set themselves in a manner highly unpleasant to 
 witness. 
 
 " And how is Mademoiselle Renouard?" Mrs. 
 O'Dell at last took thought to inquire of Nelly. 
 
 " Oh, she's very well," Nelly said ; " she took 
 the greatest care of papa all through his illness, 
 and, indeed. Dr. Ryan says that if it hadn't been 
 for her, papa mightn't have been well this ever so 
 long. She sat up at night with him and pre- 
 vented his doing anything that could hurt him, 
 and that was the most difficult of all ; because, 
 you see, poor papa got so tired of keeping always 
 in the same position, and it made him fidgetty." 
 
 Mrs. O'Dell turned away with a sniff expres- 
 sive of some dissatisfaction. She was glad tu
 
 84 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 have had her own duties performed by some one 
 else very much more effectually than she could 
 have performed them, but it was infinitely less 
 agreeable to hear the substitute get the credit 
 due to such deeds. 
 
 The meeting between Mr. O'Dell and his wife 
 was marked by more embarrassment than tender- 
 ness. Truth to tell, her return, though he had, 
 not unnaturally, deeply resented her long neglect 
 of him, put him considerably out of his way. Her 
 habits, tastes, and ideas, were all opposed to his ; 
 her peevishness and exigence irritated him, and he 
 felt that egotistic jealousy so common to invalids, 
 and especially to what we have already denomi- 
 nated as mpatients, which induces them to expect 
 to monopolise the attention of all around them 
 and to resent, as an infringement of their prive- 
 leges, the arrival of any new claimant on such 
 attention. 
 
 Mrs. O'Dell was, on her side, conscious that 
 she had avoided her duty, and that she had come
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 85 • 
 
 too late to redeem the neglect, were she even 
 disposed to attempt to do so. 
 
 Matters were not made better, either, by 
 Dicky's setting up a howl when submitted to the 
 paternal embrace; and clinging tight to Eliza, 
 despite her remonstrances and injunctions to " kiss 
 his dear papa." 
 
 " Oh, take him away ! " exclaimed Mr. O'Dell^ 
 fretfully, " what a gig you have made of the 
 child, Marianne, with all those feathers — he's a 
 perfect show !" 
 
 " I'm sure he's beautifully dressed ; that's the 
 way children do dress in civilized places, I can 
 tell you, though it mayn't be the fashion in the 
 bogs." 
 
 " Well, now, T tell you^ my dear, that I'll have 
 no child of mine, so long as he is in the bogs, 
 made a sight of. So the sooner that concern of a 
 hat is laid by, the better. Do you hear, Eliza? 
 don't let me see the child in it again." 
 
 In such harmonious converse did the time pass, 
 till Mrs. O'Dell had withdrawn to her room,
 
 ' 86 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 where she remained till dinner-time. Meanwhile 
 Sophie read to Mr. O'Dell Turpin's ride to York, 
 from Rookwood ; placed his leg thoroughly at rest 
 on an "ease and comfort," and kept aloof from 
 the subject of his wife's return as if, of whatever 
 interest or importance it might be to the rest of 
 the household, to her it made no difference what- 
 soever : from others Mrs. O'Dell might claim 
 what homage and attention she would; she, 
 Sophie, had her appointed place and duties, and 
 from these nothing should move her. 
 
 They sat down four to dinner, Mr. and Mrs. 
 O'Dell, Nelly, and Mademoiselle Renouard. 
 Some appearance of amenity had been assumed 
 between the husband and wife, and a variety of 
 questions were asked and answered as to the 
 events of the last two months : Sophie, as usual, 
 spoke but little, but her attention to all the wants 
 and wishes of Mr. O'Dell, unspoken as well as 
 expressed, never relaxed for a minute. 
 
 " We really," Mrs. O'Dell said, looking round 
 the room, " must get new furniture for this and
 
 NELLY CAREW. 87 
 
 the drawing-room, it is in too dreadful a condition, 
 and looks still worse, coming back to it, than it 
 did before. I must see about it at once. Where 
 do you think we had better get it from, Richard ? 
 I'm sure the best plan would be to get mamma to 
 order it for us in London and have it sent over ; 
 furniture there is so much better and cheaper than 
 any w^e could possibly get in this country. I'll 
 write about it to-morrow, I think." 
 
 Mr. O'Dell felt Sophie's eye on him, so he said 
 doggedly — " My dear, you'll please to do nothing 
 of the kind." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Mr. O'Dell glanced at Sophie, and his wife saw 
 the glance. " Because I can't afford it ; I've 
 determined to turn over a new leaf and to econo- 
 mise." 
 
 Kichard O'Dell turned economist ! his wife was 
 not bright, but she knew enough of him, and had 
 seen and guessed enough of the existence of a new 
 influence over him, to be at no great loss to 
 imagine whence the change proceeded.
 
 88 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 " We'll talk about this another time," she 
 said, feeling incapable of carrying on the discus- 
 sion in anything like a calm tone : she was not 
 yet prepared, either, for a collision with Sophie, 
 the possibility of which she foresaw. It was to 
 come though, and that before long. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Kenouard," she said, somewhat 
 loftily, " will you go and see if all Dicky's things 
 are unpacked, and if Eliza has put him to bed 
 yet? I daresay she won't get much help from 
 the other servants. / can help Mr. O'Dell into 
 the drawing-room." 
 
 Richard looked towards Sophie appealingly. 
 " Let me assist Mr. O'Dell first," the latter said, 
 coming forward quietly, "he is used to my 
 manner of supporting him," and she prepared to 
 aid him to rise. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Renouard, I beg you will not 
 be officious !" burst from Mrs. O'Dell's indignant 
 lips. " Nelly, come here and assist your father." 
 
 Sophie drew back ; Mr. O'Dell, not daring to 
 provoke a scene, remained passive ; and very
 
 NELLY CAREW. 89 
 
 clumsily and very laboriously his wife and 
 daughter effected the transit Sophie would have 
 performed without a moment's distress or diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 She stood looking after them till they had 
 crossed the threshold, with a face to which every 
 furious and unmastered passion contributed its 
 aid to render terrible and shocking to look upon. 
 Then drawing a deep breath, she went up to her 
 room, locked the door, and flinging herself on the 
 floor, gave way to a paroxysm of the most 
 frenzied rage. 
 
 " Beast ! " she murmured, speaking in her 
 native lano^uao-e, with set teeth and hands so 
 closely clenched that for long after the traces of 
 the nails might be seen in the palms ; " hateful, 
 odious, insolent wretch ! and he — weak fool and 
 idiot ! Oh, how I abhor her, how I loathe her, 
 how I will be revenged on her, how I will make 
 her repent the day she crossed me, beat me, 
 humiliated me — and before him, tool" and fling- 
 ing? herself down once more, she writhed and
 
 90 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 struggled under the force of that demon with 
 which I am sure she was possessed, and hardly- 
 kept herself from uttering cries of impotent fury. 
 After awhile she got up and lit a candle, 
 bathed her face, smoothed her disordered liair, 
 and looked at her watch. It was tea-time, so she 
 went down stairs, took her place at the table and 
 went through her accustomed duties with exactly 
 the same still, easy, collected manner, that every 
 other day marked her performance of them.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 91 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 
 
 A PERIOD was now approaching in Victor Dillon's 
 life to which his mother had long looked forward 
 with dread, but as it was rendered by the circum- 
 stances almost inevitable, and to her become quite 
 so, as her son's advantage was engaged in the 
 affair, she never thought of shrinking from it. 
 
 Ah, if people knew how the hahit of self-denial, 
 self-control, of regarding the performance of diffi- 
 cult duties as a necessity it is absolutely forbid- 
 den to us to avoid, renders each necessary sacrifice 
 comparatively easy, I think these qualities would 
 be more cultivated than they are. 
 
 The event in question was the separation of 
 mother and son.
 
 92 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Hitherto Victor's education had been conducted, 
 from the time he was past the age when his mo- 
 ther's instructions were sufficient, by Mr. ConoUy, 
 the curate of the parish, a meek man who had 
 grown gray in the distant hope and pursuit of a 
 living, and who was extremely glad to add to his 
 miserably small income by taking a few pupils 
 among the sons of the scattered families of the 
 better class round the neighbourhood. 
 
 Poor Mr. Conolly's science, however, was not 
 profound, nor was his mode of imparting what he 
 did know very felicitous, and as Mrs. Dillon, her- 
 self remarkably well educated and imbued with 
 notions of her own on the subject of the bring- 
 ing-up of youth, had nothing further from her 
 thoughts than the idea of making a mere squireen* 
 of her darling, she had long resolved that when 
 Mr. Conolly should arrive at the end of his Latin, 
 which she guessed would be nearly about this 
 period, Victor should go to spend the next three 
 or four years in a place where, not only he could 
 Squireen, a small country squire.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 93 
 
 complete his education, but see something more of 
 the world and of the ways thereof, than he could 
 ever hope to do in all the days of his natural life 
 at Rosscronan and thereabouts. 
 
 80 it was decreed that as soon as the spring 
 should have fairly set in, Mrs. Dillon should 
 accompany her son to Paris, and after a few 
 weeks' stay there, return to Rosscronan, to attend 
 to the affairs of his modest heritage. 
 
 It may be supposed, therefore, that the chief 
 subject of conversation between the mother and 
 son related in some way to this new and great 
 change that lay before them. 
 
 To the period they were to pass together in 
 Paris both looked forward as one of uninterrupted 
 delights ; a bright, delicious holiday, which was 
 to form an epoch to be anticipated and looked 
 back to as one of the sunny moments of their 
 existence. They would not now cloud the antici- 
 pation of this by dwelling on what lay beyond. 
 
 Mrs. Dillon, with a wonderful power of cheer- 
 fully conforming herself to that state of life unto
 
 94 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 which it pleased God to call her, possessed, at the 
 same time, a true relish for the pleasures of gayer 
 states of existence. Even since she had left off 
 dancing, which Victor's increasing stature made 
 her conceive it was proper she should do, she 
 dearly loved a ball ; she would watch the young 
 folks dancing with a face that it did you good to 
 look at ; she would play for them till her fingers 
 ached so that they could hardly strike a note ; she 
 would take the part of leader in some of their 
 wildest games. At charades she was great; at 
 dressing-up and mystifications unequalled ; at 
 private theatricals she could be manager, costumier, 
 dresser, and actress of any two or three parts that 
 other people didn't choose to take. 
 
 At home, in her every-day life, she made her 
 own work and that of her servants mere play. 
 You might hear her and them singing all over the 
 house, and she had a joke and a bantering woi'd 
 for all the peasants she came across, an almost 
 indispensable requirement for those who wish to
 
 NELLY CAREW. 95 
 
 get at Paddy's heart and real sentiments on things 
 in general. 
 
 But when Paddy was sick or sorry she had 
 more solid comfort to give him. When the 
 " fay ver," the general appellation Paddy bestows 
 on all epidemics, laid many low around her, Mrs. 
 Dillon had medicine, and broth, and Avine, and 
 jelly, and Paddy's specific in all maladies, white 
 sugar, and smiles yet sweeter, and cheering words, 
 and a few quiet tears too, when the fayver had 
 done its worst, at command. 
 
 Fancy if Paddy loved her ! And fancy, too, 
 the anticipations of such a woman, Parisian born 
 and bred, at the notion of a visit, after long years 
 of absence from that earthly paradise, to its radiant 
 precincts once again I at the idea of meeting her 
 friends ! of being, oh joy ! the first to make her 
 Victor acquainted with the splendours of the 
 Boulevards, the delights of the truly, to her, 
 Elysian Fields, the glories of the Place Louis 
 Quinze, the raptures of the theatres, and the 
 exquisite pleasures of restaurant dinners !
 
 96 KELLY CAREW. 
 
 Certainly, of the two, it was Victor that 
 was the least enthusiastic at the prospect of 
 the pleasures in store. To him all was strange 
 and new in this unknown land, land though 
 it was of his birth. A peculiarity in his 
 character made him rather disposed to cling to 
 that he had proved good, or at least to his taste, 
 than to go in search of untried joys, and more 
 than all the thought of parting with Nelly, of the 
 difference his absence would make in her life, 
 checked his anticipations of enjoyment. But 
 Victor was fifteen, high in health and spirits, and 
 if at times the thought of departure hung some- 
 what sadly over him, at others, and especially 
 when with his mother, he looked forward brightly 
 to the change. 
 
 Often the two sat together over their evening 
 fire at Kosscronan, talking over their plans. 
 
 The mother's thoughts ran chiefly on family 
 meetings, parties to the play, rambles with Victor, 
 delicious little restaurant dinners with him, visits 
 to the Musees, Fontainbleau, Versailles. Victor's
 
 NELLY CAPtEW. 97 
 
 generally turned on directions more consonant 
 with the bias of his character. 
 
 " We'll go to the Champs de Mars, to see a 
 review, mother ; that must be a jolly sight ! and 
 to some of the old parts of Paris ; the queer old 
 streets one reads of; I'd like to see them ! strange, 
 mysterious, blackguard old holes, that one knows 
 or guesses have, every one of them, its own dismal 
 story to tell. I've a great fancy for those sort of 
 places." 
 
 " Ay, my child, but when you are in Paris by 
 yourself, it must not be that you go in those 
 places alone. It is very dangerous. From these 
 dens come out, one knows not how, in the days of 
 trouble, men who are but half human, a popula- 
 tion of which the very existence is unknown in 
 other times; men wild, haggard, desperate, rise 
 up like the possessed who dw^elt in the tombs, and 
 swarm forth as fierce and as lawless I I saw some 
 of them in '80. I shall forget them never ; there 
 were women among them, and children, even ! 
 little creatures that slipped themselves in among 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
 1
 
 98 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 the legs of the cavalry's horses, and wounded 
 them underneath ! It is hard to say to whom is 
 the fault of such existences, but it is terrible, 
 terrible !" 
 
 " I wonder if they'll have any rows in Paris 
 while I am there," exclaimed Victor, much ex- 
 cited at the prospect of such a possibility. 
 
 "God forbid!" Mrs. Dillon said, "a French 
 revolution resembles not an Irish fair, where they 
 break the head in the gaiety of the heart. Allons ! 
 let us talk of something else."
 
 NELLY CAREW. 99 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TRAINING UP A CHILD IN THE WAY IT 
 SHOULD GO. 
 
 The month of May arrived, and brought with it 
 the parting of Victor and Nelly. The former 
 had resolved to shed no tears on the dreaded 
 occasion, to be brave and firm, to acquit himself 
 like a man ; but the sight of the little girl's pas- 
 sionate grief fairly upset all heroism, and he held 
 her in his arms as she clung round his neck, cry- 
 ing with all his heart. 
 
 On that day Nelly and the Fox had their first 
 quarrel. 
 
 Ever since her defeat, Sophie had avoided any 
 collision with Mrs, O'Dell. Nothing was further 
 
 F 2
 
 100 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 from her thoughts than any outbreak in the 
 household on her account. She was sure of Mr. 
 O'Dell, and, for the rest, she was resolved to 
 bide her time. The continued restraint she was 
 under, however, the venomous gnawing hatred for 
 Mrs. O'Dell, that, unsatisfied, consumed her, did 
 not tend to sweeten her temper, and at times 
 Nelly, as the safest and easiest victim, came in 
 for some of the stings she would fain have darted 
 elsewhere. 
 
 So when, after Victor's departure, Nelly refused 
 to take comfort, Sophie found means at least to 
 rouse her from her grief. 
 
 " I should like to know," she said, " how long 
 you propose to act the young Penelope, — the in- 
 consolable? Because, my dear, I am quite tired 
 of it already, and I hope you will abridge the 
 period of mourning as much as you conveniently 
 can. I request it as a personal favour." 
 
 Nelly looked up with flushed face and flashing 
 eyes. She had a peculiarly sweet temper, care- 
 lessly even, on ordinary occasions, but touch her
 
 NELLY CAREW. 101 
 
 heart, and the hot Irish blood that flowed through 
 it was a-flame. 
 
 Sophie caught the glance, and laughed — a laugli 
 not pleasant to hear. 
 
 " You are a cruel, heartless, cold-blooded 
 creature !" burst from Nelly's quivering lips. 
 " Victor might well hate you — and / hate you ! 
 Have you no feeling? — did you never love any- 
 body ? No, you never, never did ! T\niat have 
 I ever done to you that you should torture me 
 so?" 
 
 And burying her face on her arms, poor Nelly 
 sobbed in the bitterness of her wounded heart. 
 
 Sophie was considerably taken a-back ; it was 
 the first time Nelly had ever resisted her authority, 
 had ever uttered a disrespectful word to her. 
 
 "I must nip this in the bud," she said to 
 herself. 
 
 She rose, very white, and with a terrible look 
 in her eyes ; she moved to where Nelly sat, with 
 her arms crossed on the table, her face h'd by 
 them, and with a grasp that Nelly long remem-
 
 102 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 bered the feel of, lifted her head till their eyes 
 met. 
 
 " Do you know whom you are speaking to ?" 
 was all she said. 
 
 Nelly sprang back. "Let me go !" 
 
 They stood facing each other for some seconds. 
 
 " Come here and beg my pardon," Sophie said. 
 
 "I will not!" 
 
 "You will not?" 
 
 " No !" 
 
 The governess approached the child as she 
 stood fascinated by the terrible unwinking eyes, 
 took her arm with a hold that left the discoloured 
 print of ^Ye fingers, and bending — she had not 
 far to stoop — till her face was on a level with 
 that of her pupil, she said very distinctly, though 
 her teeth were set, " I swear you shall, if I stand 
 over you here till to-morrow !" 
 
 Nelly put up one hand to her face to shut out 
 the eyes, and began to try to extricate her arm 
 from the iron grasp. There was no relaxation, 
 no movement whatever.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 103 
 
 "Let go my arm, you hurt me!" Still no 
 change. 
 
 Xelly's tears burst forth afresh ; she stamped, 
 struggled, writhed with rage and pain, and some 
 fear. All in vain; it might have been an iron 
 vice that held her for all the effect her agitation 
 produced. 
 
 " Beg my pardon !" at last came, in an un- 
 altered voice, with a downward pressure in the 
 gripe, indicating that the child was expected to 
 kneel to perform the ceremony. 
 
 " Let me go, or I'll scream !" 
 
 " If you do I'll make you repent to your dying 
 day the hour you crossed me ; no one shall save 
 you from me. Do you think I look — look at 
 me" — and she drew down the protecting hand, 
 "as if I would be balked by a wretched brat 
 like you ?" 
 
 Nelly was forced to look ; she could not turn 
 aside, and now both hands were secured in that 
 crushing grasp, and the downward pressure be- 
 came stronger.
 
 104 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 She dropped on her knees, subdued by a force 
 beyond her powers of resistance, but her lips still 
 refused to utter the prescribed words. 
 
 Sophie turned her head to the large silver 
 schoolroom watch that hung over the mantel-piece. 
 " It is now ten minutes past five — I give you till 
 the quarter. You had better beg my pardon 
 before then." 
 
 Had she threatened Nelly with any definite 
 punishment she had it in her power to inflict, it 
 is very probable that the high spirit of the little 
 girl might have held out the time named. But 
 to her shaken nerves the very vagueness of the 
 menace, with the tone and look that accompanied 
 it, the sense she was beginning to feel of some 
 dark, indomitable, resistless power, in the being 
 before her, began to work, as it was intended 
 they should. 
 
 "You have now one minute." Still a pause, 
 while Nelly's heart beat in unison with every 
 tick of the watch, and tighter grew the grasp, 
 more deadly the eyes.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 105 
 
 '^ Do you beg my pardon ?" 
 
 " Yes !" !N"elly said, and fainted. 
 
 When she recovered, she found herself lying on 
 the schoolroom sofa, with the terrible face, little 
 softened from her last recollection of it, bending 
 over her — not in regret, not in anxiety, not in 
 pity — merely waiting to see when the restoratives 
 she had been applying would take effect. 
 
 The child turned away with a moan, and 
 covered her face. 
 
 " Another time you will do as I tell you ; and, 
 remember this, you shall always obey me. You 
 need not think to escape from my commands or from 
 my authority by any means whatsoever. You will 
 do well to bear this in mind." 
 
 A day or two afterwards, Mrs. O'Dell was try- 
 ing on Nelly a new dress she had brought from 
 England for her. 
 
 " Good gracious, child !" she exclaimed, as, 
 despite the little girl's attempts to avoid it, her 
 mother took hold of her arm to arrange the sit of 
 the sleeve, "why, what's the matter with your 
 
 F 5
 
 106 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 arm ? it's all black and blue ! How did you get 
 it in this state ?" 
 
 "Oh, I hurt it the other day!" said Nelly, 
 colouring violently, and hastily withdrawing the 
 injured member. 
 
 " Hurt it ! yes I think so ! That's what comes 
 of girls being tom-boys, and tearing about the 
 country like I don't know what. You'll break 
 your neck, or get kicked to death by those horses, 
 one of these days, and I must say you'll have 
 earned it." 
 
 " Nelly seems in the dolefuls," Mr. O'Dell said, 
 when sitting alone with Sophie, "I suppose she 
 misses Victor." 
 
 Sophie made no answer, but looked straight 
 before her, and compressed her lips as if she 
 wished to keep in something she was unwilling 
 to give utterance to. 
 
 " Isn't that it ? Do you think there's anything 
 else wrong with her, eh?" 
 
 " The fact is, Nelly, with many good qualities, 
 has a disposition it is very hard to know how to
 
 NELLY CARE W. 107 
 
 deal with, and latterly, since I have been pre- 
 vented from attending to her so constantly, I see 
 it has grown on her more and more." 
 
 "Nelly? why I thought she had the best 
 temper in the world ! She may be a little bit 
 peppery now and again, but it's over in an instant. 
 You don't mean to say she is sulking ?" 
 
 " Well — she is greatly disposed to resent the 
 slightest exercise of authority. Some days ago 
 I had occasion to find fault with her— to be a 
 little firm with her — and she has not, as you see, 
 got over it yet." 
 
 Mr. O'Dell looked graver than was his wont. 
 "I'm deuced sorry to hear that. I'd no notion she'd 
 a spice of that sort of temper in her. Do you 
 think if I spoke to her it would do her any 
 good?" 
 
 " Certainly not," Sophie said, with the utmost 
 decision ; " if she saw that I complained to you, 
 she would lose all confidence in me, and I should 
 have less control over her than ever. Leave her 
 to mc, take no notice of anything I have said.
 
 108 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 and I have no doubt I shall be able, in due time, 
 to get her into a better state of mind." 
 
 "Miss Ellen, me darlin', ye don't seem like 
 yerself this last week. Are you sick, asthore, or 
 what ails ye ?" 
 
 " No, Lorry, I'm not sick ! nothing ails me," 
 Nelly replied, looking up from a long and evi- 
 dently not pleasant reverie that had fallen over 
 her as she sat in her usual seat by the harness- 
 room fire. But she turned away, unwilling to 
 encounter the earnest, anxious inquiry of her 
 humble friend's gaze. 
 
 " Yer dull without Masther Victor. But 
 there's somethin^ about the blue eyes o' ye I don't 
 like. Won't ye tell yer ould Lorry what's wrong 
 wid ye, me beauty ?" 
 
 Nelly got up, and stretched her arms over her 
 head, wearily. " There's nothing wrong with 
 me. Lorry ; only one can't be merry always." 
 
 "Wliisper — is the misthress hard on ye any 
 way ?" 
 
 Nelly shook her hea^.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 109 
 
 " It's yon Frinch divil, that's gettin' all the 
 house under her ugly thumb, that bothers ye; 
 isn''t that it ? But by the powers, she'd betther 
 lave you alone, me darlin', or ould Lorry, little as 
 she thinks iv him, 'ill make her rue the day she 
 throubled ye !" 
 
 Once, perhaps twice before, Nelly had seen on 
 Lorry's face the look it wore now, and even 
 though it was in his zeal and love for her that it 
 was kindled, she shrunk before it, trembling for 
 what might result if he guessed the truth. 
 
 " She ?" she exclaimed, with a forced laugh, 
 " not a bit of it ! Why, she's had enough to do 
 this last two months looking after papa. No, no, 
 ril be all right enough in a day or two !"
 
 110 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 A DEPARTURE AND A RETURN. 
 
 Two years passed away, bringing outwardly little 
 change in ]N"elly's existence. Her mother's pre- 
 sence at home was now comparatively rare, and 
 Mademoiselle Renouard was, to all intents and 
 purposes, mistress at Coolmore. As I have 
 already said, she avoided coming into open collision 
 with Mrs. O'Dell, and, such being the case, she 
 was much too useful and too saving in the house- 
 hold, and Mrs. O'Dell, so long as she could with 
 safety remain away from home, was much too 
 indifferent as to what took place there in her 
 absence, to keep up hostilities with one with 
 whom it served her purpose to be on tolerable 
 terms.
 
 NELLY CAREW. Ill 
 
 Day by day, from the time of the scene my 
 iast chapter described, had Sophie taken care that 
 the unwholesome influence she then established 
 over the frank, fearless spirit of her pupil, should 
 be confirmed and strengthened, until Nelly, with 
 her excitable imagination, fed by Irish supersti- 
 • tions, and unassisted by any counteracting sup- 
 port, grew into a vague conviction that Sophie's 
 power over her was unlimited, omnipotent, and 
 omnipresent, and the feeling haunted her at all 
 times and all seasons; and this being exactly 
 what the governess intended and desired, she took 
 care to keep the impression constantly alive. 
 
 She would come upon Nelly constantly, when 
 and where she least expected to see her; she 
 would show her knowledge of triflinsj events and 
 conversations, which it seemed she could not, by 
 any ordinary means, have possibly become ac- 
 quainted with. She had, in short, at her com- 
 mand, the thousand tricks that can generally be 
 put in practice by a person very clever, very 
 intriguing, very cool-headed, and utterly unscru-
 
 112 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 pulous, when there is any object to be gained by 
 the exercise thereof, but which tricks seem to 
 natures, ages, and experiences such as Nelly's, 
 little if at all short of evidences of superhuman 
 knowledge and power. 
 
 All the servants came by degrees to dread, 
 hate, and implicitly obey her, with a slight dif- 
 ference in the case of Lorry, who detesting her 
 yet more cordially than any of the others, had 
 somewhat less fear of, and ready obedience for, 
 her. On which account she marked him down 
 for future disposal. 
 
 One chilly spring, about this time (Nelly was 
 going on to fifteen), Mrs. O'Dell was preparing to 
 start for what she now openly called home, i. e., 
 her father's villa at Fulham, when an indisposition 
 that had at first seemed very trifling, increased so 
 rapidly and severely as to compel the postpone- 
 ment of her departure. Dr. Ryan w^as called in 
 and prescribed, with, however, but little effect, 
 and as some of the symptoms seemed in some 
 slight degree to resemble the very various ones
 
 NELLY CAREW. 113 
 
 attendant on the general and much dresided fa^ver, 
 the servants, who loved their mistress by no means 
 well enough to run any serious risks in her behalf, 
 showed themselves, for the most part, very shy of 
 attending upon her. Selfish as she was, she had 
 just sufficient maternal feeling, imagining the 
 malady might be infectious, to refuse the assist- 
 ance of the English maid, Eliza, who had the care 
 of Dicky, and Nelly being too young and inex- 
 perienced to be capable of rendering much service, 
 the chief tendance on her fell naturally on Mile. 
 Renouard. We have seen what Sophie could be 
 at a sick bed, and though she did not enter on the 
 task this time with quite so much apparent zeal 
 and initiative, seeing she was not under the same 
 responsibility as in Mr. O'Deil's case, she yet set 
 about the duties of her post with no want of 
 earnestness and attention. 
 
 But neither her care nor Dr. Ryan's skill 
 availed aught. Mrs. O'Dell never rallied, and 
 within a fortnight of the commencement of the 
 attack, expired, under a mixture of suffering and
 
 114 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 exhaustion most distressing to witness. With 
 her last breath she desired that Dicky should be 
 sent immediately to her family in England, lest he 
 too should " lay his bones in the country that had 
 brought his mother nothing but misery," and that 
 there he should be educated and brought up 
 entirely. 
 
 Shortly after death, a change so rapid took 
 place in the body that it had to be coffined and 
 closed up immediately, and the servants and the 
 neighbours exchanged glances and whispers that 
 connected Sophie's name with the death. Had 
 she aught to do in bringing about — in hastening, 
 in assuring it ? Had there been, on her part, any 
 act of commission or omission tending to such a 
 result? During those long hours of sohtary 
 nocturnal watching, had aught been done or left 
 undone that might prove contrary to the patient's 
 recovery ? Who shall say ? the truth lies between 
 Sophie and her conscience, and may do so to her 
 dying day. 
 
 However it might be, the event produced on
 
 NELLY CARE W. 115 
 
 her externally no evidence of any agitation, nor, 
 indeed, of any emotion whatever. She, at Mr. 
 O'Dell's request — he was now utterly, almost 
 childishly dependant on her in all things — made 
 all the necessary arrangements for the funeral, for 
 the mourning, and for the sending off Dicky to 
 his grandjDarents, and in a week the house had 
 settled down again into such order as it had 
 previously, by her efforts, been brought to as- 
 sume. 
 
 It could not be expected that on any member 
 of the household Mrs. O'Dell's death should fall 
 heavily ; yet to Nelly the blank it left was very 
 much greater than could have been anticipated. 
 Her warm heart clung, with something of tender- 
 ness, to the very name of mother; though she 
 had never once been tempted to invoke her pro- 
 tection against the underhand tyrannies of Sophie, 
 she had, while Mrs. O'Dell lived, a vague sense 
 that in any great strait some aid might lie there. 
 Girl, almost child as she was, she saw plainly
 
 116 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 enough, that her father was too fast bound under 
 the same influence that enthralled her to hope for 
 much support from him ; and she suffered in 
 seeing Dicky, who, devoid as he was of fasci- 
 nation for the world at large, she had a certain 
 clinging to, removed altogether from her reach 
 and companionship. 
 
 More than this, though she shrunk in horror 
 from listening to the very echo of the whispers 
 that now and then would reach her ear relative to 
 Sophie ; though she blinded herself to the mean- 
 ing of signs and glances exchanged around her, 
 still all these wrought their effect on her ; and as 
 the terror of her tyrant, day by day, weighed 
 more and more heavily and mysteriously on her, 
 so did Sophie take a more grim satisfaction in 
 torturing her, and, as is always the case in such 
 instances, so did the indifference with which she 
 had regarded Nelly in her childhood, grow into a 
 cruel and implacable hatred. 
 
 There were times when Nelly's terror and 

 
 NELLY CAKEAV. 117 
 
 horror of that woman grew to such a point that 
 her life was a burthen to her. 
 
 Sometimes at night she would start, from a 
 terrified dream of her, and, instead of being re- 
 assured by the wakening, lie yet trembling in the 
 agonised impression that the dream was not alto- 
 gether groundless— that the influence of her pre- 
 sence or vicinity must, in some mysterious way, 
 have caused it, and not daring to stir, hardly to 
 breathe, she would listen, every faculty made sub- 
 servient to that of hearing, for some sound indica- 
 tive of the dreaded presence ; and when the old 
 furniture cracked, or the wind swept down the 
 rambling passages, she could hardly, at times, 
 repress a scream, at the notion that her enemy 
 was there indeed, come to work some direful pur- 
 pose, the very shaping the idea of which she dared 
 not encounter. 
 
 At last came a hope of some relief, some little 
 respite from this constant suffering. 
 
 Victor was expected home to spend a portion of
 
 118 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 the summer with his mother, and though Nelly 
 foresaw that her intercourse with him would be, 
 as much as possible, restrained by Mdlle. Renouard, 
 still the notion of having her dear, true friend 
 near her, of seeing him occasionally, and feeling 
 certain of his tender sympathy, seemed to put 
 new life into the poor child. 
 
 Their first interview took place at Coolmore. 
 Victor, almost a man at eighteen, tall, graceful, 
 and singularly handsome, rose as Nelly entered 
 the room, and stood perfectly embarrassed as to 
 the mode of greeting the slender, beautiful demoi- 
 selle — little girl no longer, for Nelly at fifteen 
 looked nearly two years older — that he saw before 
 him. But all uncertainty was soon put an end to, 
 for Nelly, not for a moment even conscious of his 
 embarrassment, sprang into his arms, as of old, 
 and burst into tears of joy and relief. Then the 
 years that had divided and outwardly changed 
 both were swept away in an instant, and in an 
 instant they were children again ; she, as of old,
 
 NELLY CAREW. 119 
 
 tender, clinging, up-looking to him, he gravely 
 fond, gentle, comforting, full of support and fra- 
 ternal protection. 
 
 " You'll come and stay with us for awhile, 
 Nelly darling, won't you ? " Victor said ; " my 
 mother has everything ready, expecting to see 
 you immediately. Could you go back with me, 
 do you think ? " 
 
 Poor Xelly, she had hardly a hope that such 
 delight was in store for her; but still it was 
 worth trying for, and she turned timidly to her 
 father, who was in the room — 
 
 " Could I go, do you think, papa ? 
 
 " We'll see what Mademoiselle Renouard's got 
 to say to it," Mr. O'Dell said. 
 
 At that moment Sophie entered the room, 
 walked up to Victor, shook hands with him, gave 
 him welcome home, with as near an approach to 
 cordiality as it was at all consistent with her 
 natural manner to assume, and be^'an talkins; to 
 him familiarly about Paris.
 
 120 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Emboldened by the change, Victor put forward 
 his request concerning Nelly. 
 
 " Certainly," the Fox said, "if Mr. O'Dell has 
 no objection, I have none." 
 
 In half an hour the boy and girl were on the 
 road to Rosscronan, both bright as the summer 
 birds that carolled in the boughs above their 
 heads, and one, at least, rejoicing in new-found 
 freedom far more delightedly than they. 
 
 Thenceforth Sophie put not the slightest check 
 on their intercourse. She knew not how far it 
 was possible to prevent confidences passing 
 between them with regard to her treatment of 
 Nelly, but she guessed that with the generous 
 natures of both, the removal of present pressure 
 on the one, and the adoption of conciliatory 
 measures towards the other, would be the most 
 likely way to prevent such ; in any case she was 
 resolved, that whatever Victor might hear, he 
 should see himself nothing confirmatory of evil 
 reports. And beside all this, Sophie had a piece
 
 NELLY CAKEW. 121 
 
 of work of her own in hand that she wished to 
 pursue the execution of quite undisturbed and 
 without the chance of being observed by un- 
 necessary witnesses. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 122 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 nelly's midsummer holidays. 
 
 My dear readers, you think, I dare say, that I am 
 going to give you an idyllic chapter or two on 
 the young and pastoral loves of my hero and 
 heroine ; is it not so ? Well, whether the assu- 
 rance relieves or disappoints you, I must at once 
 inform you such is not the case. 
 
 What dawning notions on the subject Victor 
 may or might have had, I cannot tell ; but this I 
 know, that Nelly at fifteen and looking, as I have 
 said, nearly seventeen, was, in many points, as 
 much of a child as when Victor had parted with 
 her. 
 
 Nelly had no female companions of her own 
 age, so that that chief element in the early ripen-
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 123 
 
 ing of girls' minds with regard to lovers and 
 flirtations was, happily, wanting; nor did she come 
 across any members of the opposite sex, of an age, 
 position, or character, to awaken such ideas in her 
 head. The life she led, while eminently calcu- 
 lated to develope her physical constitution, was 
 no less formed to preserve to a comparatively 
 advanced period the almost childish simplicity of 
 her moral nature ; and more than all, hers was one 
 of those characters of slow formation, that arrive 
 rather, gradually and surely at maturity, than 
 suddenly, by rapid impressions and quick intui- 
 tions. For years she had been kept in subjection 
 and in the back-ground ; for years no event had 
 occurred to mark her progress in life, none to 
 bring before her the fact that she was quitting 
 childhood and advancing towards womanhood. 
 
 So to her Victor was just the boy-friend of 
 former days ; taller, stronger, handsomer, more 
 important, and more able to protect her; alto- 
 gether improved in degree, but nowise diflerent in 
 character ; and the frank familiarity of her inter- 
 
 g2
 
 124 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 course with him no more suffered an instant's 
 check than if he had been indeed the brother she 
 had always been wont to consider him. 
 
 How those summer days flitted by at Ross- 
 cronan. After breakfast Victor retired to his 
 own room to study certain solemn tomes he had 
 brought with him, containing materials for the 
 examination he was to undergo on his return to 
 Paris, and Nelly accompanied Mrs. Dillon in her 
 morning visit to the poultry yard, the garden, 
 and paddock. 
 
 Most afternoons there was a scamper over the 
 country with Victor, Nelly having duly come into 
 possession of the " bay cowlt," and both rider and 
 steed doing ample justice to Lorry's predictions 
 concerning them. Truly it was a sight to see ; 
 the girl's face glowing with pleasure, exercise, 
 and excitement, her slight flexible figure undu- 
 lating with and answering to every wild springy 
 bound of the fiery, yet perfectly good-tempered 
 animal, that one moment bore her plunging, 
 bounding, and kicking, on the turf, in another
 
 NELLY CAREW. 1 25 
 
 was following her, witli his muzzle over her 
 shoulder, tame as a household dog. 
 
 Sometimes, when it was too hot to ride, slie 
 and Victor went trout fishing. There was a glade 
 about a mile from the house, through which ran 
 a stream, w^iere trout, not, certainly, of very 
 goodly proportions, but affording passable sport 
 for an idle day, and very pleasant food for any 
 one, were tolerably abundant. 
 
 As Nelly was not up to the mysteries of fly- 
 fishing, Victor condescended also, on these occa- 
 sions, to the use of the humble float. Indeed, so 
 long as he could sit there in the shade, with the 
 green leaves and the blue heavens over his head, 
 beneath him the gnarled tree- roots and the thick 
 moss, at his feet the clear deep pool that just 
 there had formed itself under the bank, lying- 
 yellow like molten topazes over the golden sand 
 and round smooth pebbles at its bottom (a great 
 " hole " it was for the big wary old trout, that 
 .were not fond of showing themselves in the 
 shallows) and by his side Nelly, now intent with
 
 126 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 a speechless, breathless earnestne.ss on the bobbing, 
 ducking, and final under-water run of her float ; 
 now lying on the grass, analysing, fibre by fibre 
 a tiny spray of feather-moss, and chattering to 
 him like the child she was, Victor, 1 say, cared 
 little what was the alleged object or excuse that 
 brought him into the centre of such a combination 
 of enjoyments. 
 
 Victor, strong, active, and skilled as he was in 
 all manly exercises, was yet of an essentially con- 
 templative frame of mind. In all things he sought 
 to get below the surface ; to compare., analyse, 
 account for the nature and existence of whatever 
 came before him. " Prove all things ; cleave to 
 that which is just," was essentially his rule. 
 
 More than once he had been assailed by reli- 
 gious doubts — few deep thinkers fail to pass 
 throuo-h these ordeals — and he had examined with 
 perfect impartiality the evidence on eitlier side, 
 sparing neither pain nor labour, nor flinching from 
 the consequences he foresaw must attend certain
 
 NELLY CAREW. ] 27 
 
 conclusions, till he had made the subject clear to 
 himself; had embraced and brought home to his 
 heart and his convictions the great truths he 
 could not fully adopt till he had, by his own 
 mental travail, proved them to be such, and he 
 was then prepared to stand, and live and die by 
 them. 
 
 To him Nelly was an inexhaustible study, 
 hardly less of a puzzle. She was a unique speci- 
 men among the genus young lady, for except her, 
 he had known no other species than the Parisian 
 demoUelle, and between her cleverness and her sim- 
 plicity ; her freedom of speech and childish inno- 
 cence of action ; her guilelessness and her shrewd- 
 ness : with many yet less marked and tangible com- 
 binations, the result of a training opposed to her 
 nature, he found it very difficult to arrive at 
 any clear comprehension of the character that, 
 naturally frank as sunshine, laid itself open before 
 him. 
 
 It distressed him too, that she had so evident a
 
 128 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 disinclination for anything approaching to study. 
 She thus deprived herself of the resources he knew, 
 both by his own and by his mother's experience, 
 were so invaluable ; and he shrunk from the very 
 thought of her constant subjection to his old 
 enemy, the Fox's, influence. 
 
 Had he known more on this point, it would 
 have helped him to a clearer insight into some of 
 the peculiarities and contradictions in Nelly's cha- 
 racter. 
 
 Sometimes he would strive to win her interest 
 to a subject that, in order to be understood, would 
 require a little study ; sometimes lead her into a 
 conversation, where, without actually humiliating 
 her, he would contrive dexterously to make her 
 secretly regret and feel ashamed of her igno- 
 rance. 
 
 He would relate to her anecdotes he had heard 
 in France of the revolution, in which his great 
 grandfather had taken so active a part ; and then, 
 when her interest and curiosity were fully aroused.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 129 
 
 and that, knowing so much of the personages 
 figuring in the events he narrated, she felt a long- 
 ing to arrive at a fuller acquaintance with them, 
 and with the times and circumstances that brought 
 them forward, he would lend her books that 
 brought before her a clear comprehension of much 
 that in his account had been obscure and imper- 
 fect, from her general ignorance of both periods 
 and persons. He would quote to her, — always 
 taking care to make his quotations apt to the 
 occasion, — aphorisms from celebrated works, pas- 
 sages from great poets, as if — the cheat ! — he took 
 it for granted she knew them and all about them; 
 and then, when poor Nelly remained silent, or 
 blushingly avowed her ignorance, he would seem 
 surprised, and again the sources from which his 
 own knowledge was acquired, were laid before 
 her. 
 
 And thus Nelly's real education commenced, 
 and day by day progressed, and in the few weeks 
 she remained at Rosscronan, she learnt more, 
 
 G 5
 
 ISO NELLY CAEEW. 
 
 and laid the foundation of a fuller, deeper, higher 
 knowledge, than twenty years of the clever and 
 accomplished Fox's tuition would have procured 
 her.
 
 >rELLY CAREW. 131 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HOME, SWEET HOME. 
 
 Six happy weeks did Nelly spend at Ross- 
 cronan, and then came the dreaded summons 
 home. Mrs. Dillon and Victor would fain have 
 pleaded for further leave of absence, but as the 
 order came from Mademoiselle Renouard, Xelly 
 dared not even to attempt to defer obedience. 
 So with a heavy heart she once more packed her 
 little portmanteau, — fuller now than on its arrival, 
 by various gifts from her kind hosts, chiefly highly 
 useful articles of dress from Mrs. Dillon, given 
 under the pleas of their being of newer fashion 
 than her own, suitable as patterns, &c., and books 
 from Victor, and once more took her seat by him 
 in the dog-cart.
 
 132 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 For some distance they drove on in silence. 
 Both their hearts were too heavy to speak ; for 
 not only was Nelly about to be once more im- 
 mured in her hated and dreaded prison, but now 
 came on both, as the hour of their separation ap- 
 proached, the full reality of the longer one that was 
 soon to take place ; for Victor was, in little more 
 than a fortnight, to return to France, there to 
 remain for some two or three years longer. 
 Nelly, in her child-like way, looked little beyond 
 the miseries immediately before her. Victor's 
 mind passed on, foreboding much that might occur 
 in the interval of his absence. Against some of 
 the possible dangers that lay in his little friend's 
 path, he would fain have warned her, yet, in the 
 face of her unsuspecting simplicity, he knew not 
 in what words to do so. 
 
 As they got further and further from Koss- 
 cronan, nearer and nearer to Coolmore, Nelly's 
 heart yet further failed her, and Victor, glanc- 
 ing sideways at her, saw the big tears that had 
 gathered in her eyes, slowly make their way
 
 KELLY CAHEW. loo 
 
 down the cheeks, and glitter on the thick curved 
 lashes. ^ 
 
 He passed an arm round her and drew her close 
 to him. " My darling Nelly !" 
 
 She looked up with a tender piteous face, the 
 expression of which went straight to his heart. 
 
 " O, Victor, you don't know all ! It's not 
 merely the thought of all I have to bear at home 
 that makes me so wretched, but I feel a different 
 being wlien I am there to what I am with your 
 dear mother and you, quite ; and now I shall go 
 back into my old dull, stupid, bad, discontented 
 self asrain ! 
 
 o 
 
 " O, Victor, sometimes I think tliere's nothing 
 I wouldn't do to get away from home for 
 ever !" 
 
 "Nelly, dearest, don't speak so !" 
 
 "Yes, but,"" she said, her countenance harden- 
 ing as she spoke, " I mean it, Victor, and wliy 
 shouldn't I say it ? She would drive me to any- 
 thing. I feel at times that I cant bear this life — 
 bear it with no hope, no prospect of escape or
 
 IM NELLY CAREW. 
 
 change — for I believe she's fixed on us altogether; 
 I don't believe she'll ever go." 
 
 " Nelly," Victor said, drawing her to him 
 again, and speaking to without looking at her, 
 " could you not have patience, and trust, and 
 courage, for three — say four — years if at the 
 end of that time you saw an issue— 1 should say 
 a happy one — from the trials that now beset 
 you?" 
 
 " But what issue ? What do you mean, 
 Victor?" 
 
 The utterly perplexed, the wholly unsuspect- 
 ing expression of the face that looked up to him, 
 put him to silence. He could not say to the 
 child before him. Be at once a woman; learn no 
 longer to regard me as your brother, your boy- 
 friend, but as a man, your future husband. No, 
 love must come to the birth naturally, spontane- 
 ously ; no attempt must be made to force it into 
 premature existence. Above all, he revolted 
 from the thought of offering his love as a con- 
 venience, a mere mode of escape from material
 
 NKLLY CAEEW. 135 
 
 evils. So he parried the question, and soon after 
 they reached Coolmore. 
 
 Lorry's greeting, as he came to assist Nelly to 
 alight, was little calculated to cheer her. 
 
 '• So yer come to us at last. Miss Ellen, me 
 darlin'. Throth an' it's meself wishes I could say 
 I'm glad to see ye home again. But, it's bad 
 enough it was before, and it's worse it '11 be 
 now." 
 
 " Why, has anything happened, Lorry ?" 
 The old servant gave his customary toss up- 
 wards of the head. *• Go yer ways in, me jewel ; 
 ve '11 know it all soon enouo^h — soon enouoh." 
 
 Nelly, followed by Victor, in anxiety as great 
 as her own, entered and proceeded to the dining- 
 room. There they found the Fox sitting alone. 
 She rose at their entrance, touched Kelly's fore- 
 head with cold lips, and shook hands with Victor. 
 The latter lingered and lingered, but nothing 
 in the way of unpleasant intelligence transpired, 
 and at last, feeling it was vain further to prolong 
 his visit, he rose to go, and he and Nelly parted
 
 136 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 without her daring to let drop one of the tears 
 that were drowning her poor heart. 
 
 Victor gone, the Fox relapsed into her old 
 manner, and Nelly was fain to escape to her own 
 room, there to weep at leisure. 
 
 It was some relief to hear her father's voice, 
 and step downstairs as he came in, and as soon as 
 the retiring redness of her eyes made her pre- 
 sentable, she went to greet him. 
 
 Both his face and his manner struck her as 
 altered — the first looked anxious and uneasy, the 
 latter was to her, his own child, shy and con- 
 strained, through the appearance of affectionate 
 welcome he sought to give it. She felt that her 
 last hope in, her last hold on home, were for- 
 saking her, and Lorry's forgotten words returned 
 on her. 
 
 The dinner passed most uncomfortably. Mr. 
 O'Dell and Nelly tried to keep up a constrained 
 conversation ; Mademoiselle Renouard did not 
 take the trouble to join in it, or to affect any 
 interest in the events of Nelly's visit. As usual, 
 
 m
 
 NELLY CAEEW. 137 
 
 she eat a good deal in silence, but it seemed to 
 Nelly her tone to the servant who waited was 
 more peremptory than it used to be, and that a 
 touch of scorn was added to her former cold in- 
 diiFerence of manner. 
 
 Dinner concluded, she left the room, and then 
 Nelly became aware of a most marked degree of 
 perturbation in her father's manner; nay, as he 
 mixed his usual tumbler of whisky-punch, she 
 saw that his hand trembled so that he could 
 hardly measure forth the due proportions. 
 
 At last, out came the mystery that, ever 
 since her return, had hung like a cloud about 
 her. 
 
 " Nelly, I have some news to tell you, that — 
 that I can hardly think you are quite unprepared 
 for." 
 
 She looked at him with a silent inquiry that 
 seemed still further to discompose him. 
 
 " Hang it, child, don't look so bewildered ! 
 You see that since — since, in short, your poor 
 mother's death — I have been — my life has been —
 
 138 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 in fact, the long and the short of it is, I'm going 
 to be married !" 
 
 He had no need to name his future wife. She 
 saw it all now — Lorry's warning, his and Sophie's 
 manner — in one second the hitherto unguessed 
 truth stood plain and broadly before her. 
 
 " I suppose it is Mademoiselle Renouard, papa," 
 was all she said, for she felt that anything like an 
 attempt to resist, to resent, to struggle against 
 her fate, would be far worse than useless. 
 
 Richard O'Dell seemed considerably relieved 
 at her quiet tone, and at not having to enter into 
 further explanations. 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle Renouard. She has been 
 so attached, so attentive to the interests of this 
 family, ever since she came into it- — is, indeed, 
 so every way indispensable to my comfort and 
 happiness — that this has become the natural 
 course to pursue. Some day you'll marry. 
 Dicky, brought up away from liome and from 
 me, and likely to be kept altogether among your 
 mother's relations, is never likely to be anything
 
 NELLY CAREW. 139 
 
 of a companion for me. I'm not fit to live alone 
 and take care of myself — so you see the thing- 
 is inevitable." 
 
 Inevitable, indeed ; but not for these reasons, 
 nor for any one of them. But inevitable because 
 a resolute and unscrupulous woman had so willed 
 it, and had followed up her will till it bore 
 fruit. 
 
 " And when is it to be, papa ?" Nelly asked. 
 She felt she must say something, and any attempt 
 at an expression of satisfaction or congratulation 
 was wholly out of the question. 
 
 " Very soon now — towards the middle of next 
 month ; there's nothing to wait for." It was 
 now far on in July. 
 
 Well, thought Nelly, it will only be a little 
 more to bear. I wonder how long I shall be able 
 to stand it ! 
 
 She wrote next day to Victor, whom she knew 
 would be in much anxiety on the subject of 
 Lorry's warning, to tell him of this new impend- 
 ing trial. To him and to his mother the intclli-
 
 140 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 gence was matter of slight surprise; they had 
 long dreaded the possibility of such a result. 
 
 Lorry anxiously watched Nelly's countenance 
 as, on the morning after her return, she paid her 
 usual visit to the bay coit, who knew her step so 
 well that a suppressed neigh always greeted her 
 arrival. 
 
 Lorry was dying to enter on the subject that 
 occupied both their minds so painfully, yet rather 
 feared to begin on it. Finding, however, that 
 his young mistress seemed little disposed to give 
 him an opening, he felt there was nothing for it 
 but to come round to the topic by an indirect 
 route. 
 
 " Ah, the poor baste," Lorry said, stroking 
 down the colt's sleek neck ; " I'd be glad to know 
 ye wer taken care of when I'm gone I" 
 
 The trick succeeded. 
 
 " You're not going, Lorry ?" Nelly exclaimed, 
 anxiously. 
 
 *' Throth an' it's little any of us can say who's
 
 NELLY CAREW. 141 
 
 goin' and who's stayin'. Ye may depend, me 
 darlin', it's not yer ould Lorry, that remembers 
 ye when ye wer born, that '11 lave ye so long as 
 he can stay wid ye. But, Miss Ellen, yon divil," 
 — pointing backwards with his thumb in the di- 
 rection of the house, — " when she comes to be 
 misthress an' masther both — I ax yer pardon — '11 
 be for makin' a pretty clain sweep in the house, 
 ye may take yer davy^ iv that, and it's not them 
 that loves ye best that '11 be the latest left in it. 
 I've stood a dale from her a'ready, and, for yer 
 sake, I'll stand a dale more: but she's a way 
 about her iv dhrivin' ye ravin' mad, with jist 
 a quiet word an' look that I'm feared '11 wan 
 day breed ructions between her and me, an' then 
 ye need n't ax who goes to the wall. But," and 
 the savage expression, at once dark and fiery, 
 came over his face, " she may find ould Lorry 
 M'c Swiggan an ugly customer to dale wid, in the 
 long run. Afther all's said an' done, she's only a 
 
 * Affidavit.
 
 142 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 sthranger, an' by her lone ; an 'maybe it's not 
 always she'll be able to ride rough-shod over the 
 lot iv us. Keep up yer heart, me jewel, there's 
 betther days m store for ye."
 
 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 life 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE FOX IN THE FARM YARD. 
 
 To an uninterested spectator there would have 
 been something ridiculous in the wedding of 
 Richard O'Dell and Sophie Renouard. 
 
 Truly it could not be said that the wedding 
 was furnished with guests ; very few were in- 
 vited ; hardly any women ; for Sophie's stand-off 
 manners, and continued residence under Mr. 
 O'Dell's roof after his wife's death, had offended 
 some, and scandalised others, and the Fox was not 
 one to risk a rebuff. Mrs. Dillon (Victor had 
 already returned to Paris) resolved not to be 
 present, yet not wishing, for Nelly's sake, to re- 
 fuse, had purposely absented herself from Ross- 
 cronan for a few days at this period, and the
 
 144 NELLY CAKEW. 
 
 small number of persons assembled were certainly 
 not of a high stamp, were ill at ease, and showed 
 it. There was a ludicrous contrast, too, in the 
 demeanour of the bride and bridegroom. Sophie, 
 who looked more than ordinarily ugly in her 
 bridal attire, was as composed, as thoroughly mis- 
 tress of herself, as on any day in the course of the 
 week, and had as close an eye on the progress of the 
 household proceedings, and as ready a scowl, and 
 as cutting a word, for any mistake or oversight. 
 
 Richard O'Dell was nervous, irritable, and ab- 
 sent, at the commencement of the proceedings, 
 gloomily resigned towards the middle, feverishly 
 jovial towards the end, and wound up the toasts 
 drank over a prolonged breakfast, by inviting his 
 guests to join him in " drowning care !" 
 
 Nelly, the single bridesmaid, in her white dress, 
 and sad, anxious face, called upon to assist in 
 doing the honours, and to reply graciously to 
 coarse compliments, and coarsely-expressed wishes, 
 that she might soon give occasion for a similar 
 re-union, felt more disgusted and humiliated than
 
 NELLY CAREW. 145 
 
 she had ever done in her life before, and was con- 
 scious that in a sitting with Lorry in the harness- 
 room she was in infinitely better and more 
 suitable company than here, surrounded with her 
 father's guests and associates. 
 
 It was a miserable affair altogether, and every- 
 body felt it to be so, except the green little bride, 
 who, as she went through the ceremonies of the 
 day, and contemplated with unbounded scorn the 
 guests assembled at her table, indulged in a series 
 of her dumb fits of wild triumph and savage ex- 
 ultation, in the complete success of her machi- 
 nations. 
 
 Cruel as a Nero in her joy, her chief thought, 
 now that she was absolute and acknowledged mis- 
 tress in the household, was, as Lorry had predicted, 
 how she would weed out of it all but those she 
 could count upon as her slaves or instruments ; 
 how she would render all tilings and all persons 
 in and about it the mere dependents, not only on 
 her will, but on her veriest caprices. Truly, to 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 " reign in hell," would have been to her infinitely 
 sweeter than to " serve in Heaven." 
 
 At last the dreadful day was over, and Nelly, 
 too worn out and sick at heart, to be able even to 
 indulge in tears, crept to the sanctuary of her 
 little room, and throwing open the window, leant 
 out into the warm still August night, striving to 
 find some relief, some repose in the still air, the 
 gliding yellow moon, the vast harmonious tran- 
 quillity of night and summer. 
 
 But it was not to be. The very young rarely 
 draw from the phases of nature rest and soothing. 
 Sunshine and free air exhilarate, gray skies and 
 •^^ark weather depress them, and night finds them 
 vmusually impressionable. It brings — when it 
 fails to bring its natural gift of sleep— terrors, 
 longings, unrest, and excitement ; and many a\ 
 young heart that through the day has borne its 
 burden with resignation, finds it at night intolera- 
 ble, and sends up that cr^^ that only strong youno- 
 life does send up in its fullest and most passionate 
 intensity, the cry for death, for its own annihi-
 
 NELLY CAREW. 147 
 
 lation, as the sole complete and effectual escape 
 from the evils it has not the patience and enduring 
 courage to support. 
 So with Xelly— 
 
 " To cease upoD the midnight with no pain," 
 
 seemed to her, in her present mood, the only 
 enviable lot, and a thousand wild fancies were 
 coursing through her brain, when her attention 
 was startlingly excited by a slight noise behind 
 her, and turning back in quick alarm, she saw the 
 ominous face of her stepmother close to her. 
 
 '' I have come to speak a few words to you 
 while the subject is fresh," she said, while Nelly 
 was recovering her composure; " I wish to know, 
 why, all day, you crept about, looking miserable? 
 Were you ill?" 
 
 " No, oh, no ! " poor Nelly stammered forth. 
 
 " What was it then?" 
 
 Nothing, Nelly protested — she was not con- 
 scious of having looked so. 
 
 H 2
 
 148 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 " You are telling me a lie. But I will be 
 
 frank with you. I know that you hate me; I 
 
 know that you look upon my marriage with your 
 
 father as one of the greatest afflictions that could 
 
 befall you; but I know also that you feel yourself 
 
 absolutely, and so long as you remain under his 
 
 and my roof, subject to my authority. It is well you 
 
 should feel so, for so it is. And now let me say 
 
 to you, once for all, that I will endure no protest 
 
 against this, silent any more than spoken. I 
 
 will have no airs de mctime, no dumb appeals to 
 
 the pity and sympathy of those your father and 
 
 I choose, from time to time, to bring about us. 
 
 You will make your demeanour accord with the 
 
 occasion. Bear this in mind : you know already 
 
 that what I resolve upon I will obtain, therefore 
 
 let one warning suffice you. And now go to bed ; 
 
 sitting up till these hours will not contribute to 
 
 brighten your looks." 
 
 She turned and left the room as noiselessly as 
 she had entered it. 
 
 Then for Nelly there was to be no privacy, no
 
 NELLY CAEEW 1 49 
 
 shadow of liberty at any time or under any cir- 
 cumstances ; her very looks were to be controlled 
 to meet the views and commands of this creature 
 of ice and fire. 
 
 She undressed quietly and stealthily, as fearful 
 that sound or movement would offend and recall 
 her persecutor, glided into bed, and slept not till 
 sunrise. 
 
 It is certain that since Sophie had taken tlie 
 direction of Richard O'Dell's affairs, they had 
 improved to a degree that was fast approaching 
 the point of setting him free from embarrassment. 
 On the one hand she had established system and 
 order where nothing but the wildest confusion 
 had formerly reigned; she had done away with 
 unnecessai'y and controlled needful expenses, 
 and she had swept away the tribe of idlers 
 and hangers-on that from time immemorial had, 
 from father to son, been wont to pick up a 
 living, however scanty, at the cost of the master 
 of Coolmore in exchange for services of a purely 
 illusive and nominal character. On the otlier
 
 150 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 hand she had had recourse to external measures 
 of a yet more marked and decisive nature. For 
 many long years rents had been paid, or rather 
 left unpaid, by the tenants on the estate, pretty 
 much at their convenience. The mingling of 
 supineness and good-nature in Richard O'Dell's 
 character, joined to the desire to retain the 
 popularity he possessed, had prevented his ever 
 pressing hard for his dues, and many and long 
 were the arrears of a large portion of the tenantry 
 of Coolmore. 
 
 All the information that could be obtained on 
 these matters, Sophie had acquired, and on it 
 she proceeded in the same spirit that influenced 
 her daily actions. 
 
 Tears, coaxings, promises, what were they to 
 her ? Money was due — they could not themselves 
 deny it, — and money was what she wanted and 
 would have. They had possessed their little 
 holdings long; yes, much too long, on such 
 terms : they had many children ; why had they 
 married as boys and girls and brought innumer-
 
 NELLY CAREW. 151 
 
 able children, that must be fed and clothed — such 
 feeding and clothing as it was— into the world as 
 burdens on it and on themselves ? They had 
 never been pressed before ; it was exactly that 
 which rendered this present pressure so heavy 
 and so necessary. 
 
 And so she carried on her w^ay, heedless of 
 warning and remonstrance; heedless that tears 
 changed to curses, that starved and homeless, 
 and desperate men and women glared on her as 
 she passed, and laid about her path notices that, 
 however illegible and ill-spelt, were_yet frig ht- 
 fuUy intelligible. ) One of the commonest errors \ 
 
 l^oi avaricious' tyrants, is, an increasing contempt ' 
 for those they oppress, joined with an increasing 
 
 V security in their own power and invulnerability, 
 as they find themselves generally successful in 
 their one object, that of wringing money, whether 
 in large sums or small, out of every receptacle 
 that contains it, out of every object that can 
 fetch it. That that is squeezed, sixpence by 
 sixpence from the old stocking, is it not as good
 
 152 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 coin of the realm as the new sovereigns that flow 
 plentifully from embroidered purses ? if the 
 peasant's bed will bring in money, money that he 
 owes, why not obtain money on it as well as on 
 the costliest article that the lordliest spendthrift 
 has purchased to gratify his passion for luxury ; 
 albeit he knows the price thereof will never be 
 found in his pockets ? 
 
 At times Richard O'Dell's tranquillity was con- 
 siderably disturbed by passionate appeals from 
 the victims of his wife's rigidity, and more in 
 annoyance than in pity he attempted a sort of 
 intercession for them. It was met by sneering and 
 indifference, or cold contempt. 
 
 " You put your affairs into my hands, I am 
 conducting them to a successful climax. What is 
 it you desire or expect, may I inquire, by 
 attempting to cross my plans?" 
 
 " No, but hang it, it's not pleasant to be unable to 
 go about one's own property wit^put being perse- 
 cuted by a tribe of miserable devils, every mother's 
 s(m of whom one has known all one's life, and
 
 NELLY CAREW. 153 
 
 whom one is now turning out of house and home 
 and sending to starve, the deuce knows where." 
 
 " You think it pleasanter, then, to pass your 
 life in out-running the constable ? to place youi-- 
 self in the same condition as these objects of your 
 tender commiseration? ma foi,^^ with a shrug, " all 
 tastes may be respectable, but you will permit me 
 not to share yours in the present instance." 
 
 And so the discussion ended, and Richard 
 O'Dell, with a purse tolerably well filled with the 
 money obtained by the means he had just been 
 deprecating, went away for a few days to amuse 
 himself, and leave his wife to pursue her system, 
 while absence saved him from the annoyance 
 proceeding from its immediate results. 
 
 h5
 
 154 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CARRICK-NA-MOYLE. 
 
 " Nelly," said Mr. O'Dell one day to his daugh- 
 ter, shortly before he was about to undertake one 
 of these excursions, " I've a mind to take you to 
 Moore's with me. They're always asking about 
 you, and want to see you, and I promised you 
 should go some time. What do you say, eh ?" 
 
 Say ! any chance of getting away from home, 
 especially when she had not even the small relief 
 of her father's presence there, was enchantment, 
 and " Moore's " was a house that most girls of six- 
 teen, Nelly's present age, would have regarded as 
 the most delightful of dwellings. 
 
 Mrs. Moore was a distant relative of Richard 
 O'Dell's, and they had always kept up the cousin-
 
 NELLY CAKEW. 155 
 
 ship with much cordiality. Her husband was 
 rich, and hospitable, and good-natured in his own 
 peculiar way ; that is to say, he liked to have his 
 house full of guests, and to treat them to the best 
 it, his preserves and his stables contained, on the 
 sole condition of being allowed to spend the greater 
 part of his time alone in his study, a sanctuary 
 which no one was expected to break in upon 
 without a special invitation. 
 
 For the rest, his still handsome, genial, joyous 
 wife, his four sons. Jack, Claud, Desmond, and 
 Harry, and his two daughters, Kathleen and Nora, 
 might invite what guests they pleased, and enter- 
 tain them how they would, an arrangement infi- 
 nitely satisfactory to all parties. The house, with 
 a little squeezing, would contain any number of 
 visitors, especially as bachelors and maidens in 
 Ireland are not fastidious as to their accommoda- 
 tion. The stables and outhouses were equally 
 commodious with regard to the lodgment of horses, 
 ponies, carriages, gigs, dog-carts, and " kyars "' 
 (/. e., jaunting cars). The stock of game was
 
 156' NELLY CAHEVV. 
 
 tolerable, considering; the fishing and boating 
 capital, the table and cellar prime. 
 
 " Och, Miss Ellen," Lorry said, when he heard 
 of the proposed visit, " maybe it's not meself 
 that's plased yer goin' ! I was there wanst, and 
 it's the dancin'est, the singin'est, the coortin'est, 
 the kyar-dhrivin'est place in the kingdom ! It 
 flogs for divarshin !" 
 
 And so Nelly, with a renovated wardrobe, and 
 a hopeful heart started with her father, one May 
 morning, for Carrick-na-moyle, mounted on the 
 " CO wit," still so called, for an eight- and-t wen ty 
 mile ride. Lorry following v/ith the baggage in 
 the dog-cart. 
 
 It was not without a flutter at her heart that 
 the lonely-reared girl approached the end of her 
 journey. Joined to the natural bashfulness of a 
 girl of her age, brought 'up almost in solitude, the 
 miserable training to which she had been subjected 
 had taken from lier all self-confidence, all spirit, 
 all suspicion of the existence of any charm, any 
 merit, any attraction in her, and she felt and
 
 NELLY CAREW. 157 
 
 believed herself to be one of the dullest, most 
 awkward, and least winning of God's creatures. 
 
 " Kathleen and Nora are very good-natured, 
 papa, arn't they ?" she asked for the third time, as 
 they neared the house, 
 
 " Yes, child," her father answered, laughing ; 
 his spirits had mounted hourly from the time he 
 had left Coolmore, and were now buoyant as a 
 youth's. "How many more times are you going 
 to ask me that, and why do you ask it at all ?" 
 
 " Because I feel, somehow, not comfortable 
 quite, going among a lot of strange people, and if 
 the girls don't like me, or bully me, or laugh at 
 me, it will be horrid, you know !" 
 
 "And why the deuce should they, I'd like to 
 know?" her father said, highly nettled at the sug- 
 gestion. 
 
 " Oh, I'm not like them, you see ; they're 
 pretty, and clever, and used to company, and all 
 that ; they know what to do and what to say, and 
 don't feel awkward and shy like me."
 
 158 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Richard O'Dell looked at his daughter, and 
 laughed a quiet little laugh to himself. 
 
 " Never fear, Nelly ; you're not so bad as you 
 think ; I daresay there'll be others there no 
 prettier, or cleverer, or less awkward than you, 
 and you'll get over the shyness all in good 
 time." 
 
 As he finished his speech, a troop of lads and 
 lasses, some fifteen or sixteen in number, headed 
 by a large black and white goat, suddenly ap- 
 peared at a turn of the avenue, laughing, shriek- 
 ing, and hallooing. Such a greeting being not 
 suited to the temperament of the " cowlt," he sud- 
 denly reared almost perpendicularly, wheeling 
 round at the same time on his hind legs with 
 a manoeuvre that, I can tell you, dear reader, if 
 you don't know it by experience, is one of the 
 very hardest in the world to maintain your seat 
 under, more especially if you be unprepared 
 for it. 
 
 Down came the horse's fore feet, however.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 15.9 
 
 nearly where his hind ones had been an instant 
 before, and Nelly was firm in her saddle, with no 
 further appearance of disturbance than a some- 
 what heightened colour. 
 
 "Bravo, Nelly!" her father said, in a highly- 
 pleased undertone, as he marked the sudden, silent 
 pause of the uproarious group, followed by a 
 general murmur of admiration and applause, " now 
 come on and meet them ;" and the " cowlt,^' some- 
 what recovered from his first alarm, and en- 
 couraged by his mistress's soothing, and urged on 
 by his mistress's heel, advanced to where the 
 party awaited them, but with dilated eye, snorting 
 nostril, and shifting ear, that showed how only a 
 most resolute and skilful rider could bring him to 
 the point. 
 
 The goat, which still stood in front of the 
 group, was evidently the especial object of his 
 mistrust and antipathy, and straight up to the 
 goat, despite his snortings and checks, and at- 
 tempted boltings, Nelly rode him, till he stood 
 within a foot of it, and could stretch his neck and
 
 160 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 snufFand examine it at his leisure, a proceeding 
 which Billy took in perfectly good part, being as 
 often quartered with the horses as elsewhere, and 
 being, moreover, of a dauntless turn of mind, as 
 might be known by his present avocation, that of 
 head of a game of foUow-the-leader. 
 
 Matters arrived at this point, a ^ ery tall and 
 handsome girl, of about eighteen, stepped forward 
 to greet them with just that amount of brogue 
 that sounds rich and pleasant, when spoken by a 
 soft voice and beautiful lips. 
 
 " Yer heartily welcome, Dick," she said, stand- 
 ing on tiptoe beside his horse, and holding up the 
 lips in question, " and all the more so that ye've 
 brought Nelly," and crossing over, she repeated on 
 her, with yet greater cordiality, the ceremony she 
 had just performed on her father. " A gallant 
 little horsewoman ye are, as ever I saw ; Nora 
 couldn't have done it better, though she's reckoned 
 the best rider in the county." 
 
 " Better ! there's not a man, let alone a woman, 
 in the three kingdoms could have done it better.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 161 
 
 Sure no one can do better than best !" was the 
 energetic addition of Nora herself, as she took her 
 turn to greet the blushing Nelly. Embraces, 
 however, were here out of the question, seeing 
 that Nora's head was somewhere about her 
 sister's shoulder. " Never mind," she said, 
 laughing, after an abortive eiFort to reach her 
 cousin's face, " we'll make up for it afterwards ; 
 Jack '11 act as my proxy for the time being ! 
 Come up, John of Gaunt, and don't look sheep- 
 ish, with yer long legs and yer long neck; ye 
 could kiss a face like that if it was at the top of 
 an elephant!" 
 
 Jack, a handsome but overgrown youth of two- 
 and-twenty, much embarrassed by the lengtli of 
 the legs in question, and of the arms that 
 matched them, when in the company of strangers, 
 though among his family and friends he found 
 means of disposing of them pretty satisfactorily, 
 advanced, red as a rose, to do his sister's bidding, 
 and passing the back of his long sun-burned 
 hand across his lips, according to the approved
 
 162 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 system in the sister isle, saluted Nelly very 
 heartily, a performance to which she submitted 
 with the grave simplicity of a child. 
 
 By this time the group had collected round 
 the travellers, laughing, chattering, and asking 
 questions of them, and "chaffing" each other 
 with might and main. Mr. O'Dell, who had 
 dismounted and walked among the young ones, 
 with his horse's rein over his arm, was a boy 
 again, and as such they seemed to regard him, 
 all the young Moores, from Jack, the first-born, 
 down to Harry, the youngest of the family^ aged 
 twelve, calling him Dick, and cracking jokes 
 with and against him. 
 
 Nelly noted that no one made the slightest 
 reference to his wife, and that he never men- 
 tioned her, or seemed to recollect her existence. 
 
 As they advanced towards the house, Nelly 
 had time to take a closer observation of her 
 cousins. Kathleen was, as I have said, remark- 
 ably tall and handsome, but, like Jack, had some- 
 what outgrown herself, and yet wanted filling
 
 NELLY CAKEW. 163 
 
 out. She had a complexion that is oftener seen 
 in Ireland than elsewhere, yet even there it is 
 not common, a skin so transparent, of a tint and 
 texture so pure and pearly, that every vein's 
 blue course is distinctly visible, and the colour 
 in the cheek comes and goes with such frequent 
 and lovely alternations, that you know not 
 whether most to admire its presence or ab- 
 sence. Her eyes were extremely large, brown, 
 with clear blue whites, and the usual accompani- 
 ment to Irish eyes, long black lashes and dark 
 pencilled brows ; her lips of the warmest scarlet, 
 her thin nose just tending to aquiline, and her hair 
 nearly black, and lying in heavy, glossy, slightly 
 waved folds. Had she belonged to any other 
 country, she w^ould have been a beauty of the 
 tragic, or at least purely romantic type, but an 
 Irish girl born and bred, the love of fun, the 
 quaint humour, the out-spoken freedom peculiar 
 to the race, rendered her, if less imposing, far 
 more generally attractive. 
 
 Nora, between sixteen and seventeen (there
 
 164 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 were two boys older and two younger than the 
 girls), was destitute of even a family likeness 
 with her sister. Small, and plump, and trim in 
 figure, she had a round face, quick, bright gray 
 eyes, a fair skin, a decidedly retrousse nose, which, 
 with a trick she had of carrying her chin in the 
 air, gave additional piquancy to a countenance 
 already sparkling with mischievous vivacity. 
 
 " The boys" were all more or less good-looking, 
 Desmond especially, whose remarkable beauty, 
 instead of being to him a source of vanity, dis- 
 tressed him by the remarks it called forth among 
 his family and companions. His distinguished 
 air, and a certain almost feminine refinement that 
 belonged to him, joined to the exquisite perfec- 
 tion of his features, complexion, and hair, caused 
 him to be entitled the " Pink of Gentility," " My 
 Lady," « The Fair One with the Golden Locks," 
 and various other terms of a significance highly 
 unflattering to the manhood of fourteen, though 
 bestowed not in malice, but in that spirit of mis- 
 chievous raillery that is so inseparable from the
 
 NELLY CAREW. 165 
 
 Irish character. A few exchanges of black eyes, 
 however, had made his boy companions somewhat 
 more sparing of their jokes, but the girls, I fear, 
 standing in no dread of such hindrances to their 
 wit, sometimes led poor Dessy a hard life.
 
 166 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 THE MOORES. 
 
 In through the open hall door — it was never 
 closed in summer, except at night, and seldom 
 locked then, for Mr. Moore and his family had 
 nothing to fear from those among whom they 
 resided — through the wide portal, I say, squeezed 
 and hurried the tumultuous assemblage, carrying 
 Nelly with them bodily. 
 
 "I say," said Nora, stopping short, and reso- 
 lutely stemming the torrent, " keep back, some 
 of ye, can't ye, and not be tearin' on like a pack 
 of hounds in full cry ! Sure ye'll tear Nelly to 
 pieces ; look ye, Harry — yah, stupid — ye've 
 trod on her habit, and pulled it out of the 
 gathers already ! Now go off to yer diversions,
 
 NELLY CAREW. 167 
 
 or what ye like, and let Kathleen and me take 
 Dick and Nelly in to mother. You, longshanks," 
 to Jack, " make use of the aforesaid appendages, 
 and go and see where she is, for Nelly's had 
 exercise enough, and won't want to be cutting 
 about the house. And now w^elcome, and thrice 
 w^elcome, to Carrick, ye little beauty ! Ye're 
 a credit to the family, ye are !" and Nelly found 
 herself hugged in the speaker's embrace, while 
 Kathleen repeated the same ceremony with no 
 less warmth. Nelly, between emotion, excite- 
 ment, and fatigue, felt much disposed to burst 
 into tears of attendrissement at these unexpected 
 demonstrations, but she drove back the rising in 
 her throat, and responded with the gratitude she 
 felt. 
 
 Down came Mrs. Moore, a splendid woman of 
 forty, large, and fair, and clear-skinned, and with 
 hair and teeth, eyes and complexion, that could 
 hardly have been finer at five-and-twenty; one of 
 those women of a goodly presence, whose appear- 
 ance fills you with entire satisfaction, and gives you
 
 168 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 the notion that Nature, having taken the trouble 
 to produce a perfectly organized specimen of the 
 human race, has gifted it with an almost immortal 
 youth, in order that she may display to three or 
 four succeeding generations what she is capable 
 of executing when the humour takes her. 
 
 But, if you notice, such women hardly ever 
 give birth to a child of equal physical complete- 
 ness. More or less handsome children they gene- 
 rally have, but the beauty, and the puissant health, 
 and youth, and vigour, they possess in their fullest 
 plenitude, are commonly divided into unequal 
 proportions, and distributed among their off- 
 spring. 
 
 " She's like what ye were when a boy, Dick," 
 Mrs. Moore said, after clasping Nelly to her 
 ample breast, and then scanning her face with 
 eyes that beamed kindly : — " Much the face I re- 
 member when at fourteen, ye fell in love with 
 me, a long slip of a girl of sixteen, like Kathleen 
 there, half-a-head taller than yourself, and think- 
 ing myself a woman grown, and affronted at
 
 NELLY CAREW. J 69 
 
 having ye after me, poor boy I Ye'll see Claud 
 at dinner; he'll be right glad you're come, but ye 
 know, once the study door shut, there's no Se- 
 same '11 open it from the outside. And now, 
 girls, one of ye take Dick to his room, and the 
 other ]^elly to her's, and I'll send them some- 
 thing to eat and drink, and let them rest a bit 
 and dress themselves in peace. Dinner at half- 
 past six." 
 
 It was Kathleen who took Nelly to her room, 
 a little chamber opening from the large one the 
 sisters themselves occupied. She assisted her to 
 take off her heavy habit, opened her trunk, wrapped 
 her in the dressing-gown she took from it, placed 
 her in an arm chair, and then seating herself on the 
 trunk aforesaid, with her elbows on her knees, 
 prepared for a chat. 
 
 " Isn't mother a beautiful woman ?" she began ; 
 " and such a darling I There's not one of us 
 wouldn't go barefoot through fire and water if she 
 held up her finger ! So we would for papa — but 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 NELLY CAKEW. 
 
 somehow, it's different! There's nobody like 
 
 mamma i 
 
 !" 
 
 " I think you're something like her," Nelly 
 said. She really did see some resemblance, and 
 imagined it would gratify her interlocutor to 
 say so. But Kathleen indignantly scouted the 
 notion. 
 
 " Pooh, I ? dear Nelly ! Why the good looks 
 of the whole six of us — except Desmond — rolled 
 into one, wouldn't make anything to .compare 
 with her I I — I'm not fit to hold a candle to her ! 
 Look what a long gawky I am," stretching her 
 legs and arms, " and see what a figure she has ! 
 Look at her neck and her shoulders, and her 
 hands and her feet, and the face of her ! At 
 fourteen I couldn't get on her glove or her shoe ! 
 If you saw her when she wakes of a morning, 
 she's like a rose blowing — like the sun rising! 
 Ill take you into her room some morning, for it's 
 a sight to see.'^ 
 
 Kelly cordially acquiesced in Kathleen's enthu- 
 siastic admiration of her mother.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 171 
 
 " And tell me," she said, " something about 
 your brothers and Nora." 
 
 " Well, Jack's as good a fellow as ever was 
 born ; steady and amiable, and kind-hearted, and 
 a thorough gentleman, but he's not of the 
 brightest. He'll fall in love with you to a dead 
 certainty ; he always does with every good-look- 
 ing nice girl that comes to the house, — always 
 did, since he was fifteen ; but I must tell you he 
 has good taste, — only cares about the pretty ones. 
 Claud is no great beauty, as you see — he with 
 the buzzily light hair, and rather sandy com- 
 plexion. He's most like papa of any of us, 
 and as clever as he can be. I hardly know whe- 
 ther you'll like him or not, everybody doesn't. 
 He and Nora are inseparable, but Nora bullies 
 Jack. Then there's my darling Dessy ! isn't he 
 lovely? — the only one of us that's really like 
 mamma's child: — but he's not strong, poor dear, 
 like her. She never had anything the matter 
 with her in all her life, I do believe ! But he's 
 such a dear, loving, loveable creature, and Fm 
 
 i2
 
 172 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 sure just as clever as Claud; but you see people 
 won't believe it because it's not an available 
 practical sort of cleverness. He's silent, and 
 quiet, and dreamy : — he'll be a poet, I know, a 
 real genius. Harry's just what you see, a fine, 
 strong, rollicking fellow, up to any fun or mis- 
 chief that's going, but not a bit of real harm about 
 him." 
 
 « But vv^hat about Nora?" 
 
 " Ah, my Norry, you shall find her out for 
 yourself — here she comes!" and the door burst 
 open, and Nora made her entry. 
 
 " Hasn't she had any thing to eat, Katy ? 
 Have they brought her nothing? — haven't you 
 seen about anything? — iconH I give it them!" 
 And turning on her heel she was about to carry 
 confusion into the lower regions, when she was 
 met by a blowsy, red-armed maid, with a tray 
 laden with comestibles. 
 
 "By the piper that played before Moses!" 
 she exclaimed, plunging into the depths of the 
 fullest-mouthed brogue, as was her custom, when
 
 NELLY CAREW. 173 
 
 addressing the servants or poor people, " it's time 
 ye made yer appearance. Miss M'cCormick ! I 
 hope ye haven't been disturbed from yer piana or 
 yer dancin' practice ? There, put it down, and 
 go back to yer embroidery ! And now you, my 
 little lamb," returning to her own mitigated ac- 
 cent, " fall to, for ye must be as hungry as a 
 hunter." And piling Nelly's plate with dainties, 
 without more heed to her remonstrances than if 
 she had not spoken, she took a seat beside Kath- 
 leen on the trunk, which they both seemed to 
 prefer to a chair, and began talking without a 
 moment's intermission. 
 
 " I've had some fun with that queer old fish 
 of your's, Nelly, — Lorry. I tried to have a rise 
 or two of him, but he's not so easy caught. 
 They were cutting the lucerne, which he was 
 pleased to call lucifer, whereupon I, in my Avis- 
 dom, asked him if he knew that Lucifer was the 
 name of the devil. * Shure,' says the old fox, 
 with, the innocentest face in the world, ' shure 
 didn't I think it was Luther was the name of the
 
 174 NELLY CAREVV. 
 
 divill' — What a sell, wasn't it? I haven't seen 
 the match of that horse of yours for many a long 
 day ; you'll let me have a ride on him ? — and you 
 shall try my Garry Owen, — I don't know another 
 woman beside us two that's up to him — hut the 
 way he goes over the stone walls I — Well, I must 
 go and see to things ! ' ' And off she went with a 
 ringing song — 
 
 " O, it grieves me to the heart, 
 The Goaten bridge to part, 
 Where fishes do divart 
 Me as they sport an' play !" 
 
 After some further conversation, Kathleen rose 
 to go. 
 
 " The dressing-bell rings at a quarter to six, 
 I'll come and help you to dress ; — here's our room, 
 ye see," — opening the door of communication, — 
 " just handy, if ye want anything ever. Good 
 bye, ye little dear ! " And nodding, affectionately, 
 she closed the door. 
 
 Nelly's fears were, for the present, quite at
 
 NELLY CAREW. 175 
 
 rest, and she proceeded to unpack her trunk with 
 brisk activity. 
 
 True to her promise, Kathleen came to assist 
 her in the completion of her toilet, and then sur- 
 veyed her with undisguised admiration. 
 
 " Ye '11 be the settling of poor Jack, out and 
 out," she said, " and maybe one or two more. 
 Come along, they'll all be down by this time. 
 Mind, be friendly with papa: he seems grave and 
 quiet, and shy at first, but never mind that ; he's 
 as kind a heart as e'er a one ever ye met, and he 
 likes people to be frank and easy with him." 
 
 As they approached the drawing-room door, 
 the sound of many voices caused Nelly a certain 
 tremour. 
 
 " I'm afraid there's a great lot of people, isn't 
 there?" she said, squeezing the hand Kathleen 
 held her's in. 
 
 '' Well, what then ? they're quite harmless, all 
 of them. Not one of the set bites." 
 
 "Yes, but " 
 
 '' But, but — you'd like, maybe, to have your
 
 1 76 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 dinner sent out here into the passage ? I can tell 
 ye the minute the dinner-belFs rung they'd run 
 over ye and smash ye into smithereens. Non- 
 sense, come along !" 
 
 There was no help for it, so Nelly suffered her- 
 self to be led into the large drawing-room (where 
 some twenty persons were already assembled) 
 and conducted to the seat occupied by Mr. 
 Moore. 
 
 Mr. Moore was a man of middle height, slightly 
 made, and stooping to a degree that his age, 
 though he looked many years older than his wife, 
 did not warrant. He had no good looks — never 
 could have had any; was dry, and sallow, and 
 sandy complexioned, with dull, light hair, and 
 light, but remarkably keen quick eyes. His 
 manners were quiet and very gentlemanlike, his 
 speech slow, with a certain mingling of significance 
 and cautiousness in the mode of delivering it, and 
 in all his movements and demeanour there was a 
 marked air of observation and deliberation. 
 
 His quiet eye noted Nelly the moment she
 
 NELLY CAREW. 177 
 
 entered the room, and he paused with a pinch of 
 snuiF — of which he took a great deal — between 
 his fingers, to watch her progress through the 
 groups that impeded it. As she approached him, 
 he carefully restored the pinch to his snuff box, 
 and closed the lid. 
 
 " Here's Nelly O'Dell, papa," was Kathleen's 
 form of introduction. 
 
 Mr. Moore took her hand, and drew her towards 
 him, partly by it, partly by his eyes, and gently 
 kissed her forehead. 
 
 "You are very welcome, my dear little girl," 
 was all he said, but the kindly tone (it was quite 
 free from the least Irish accent, NeUy afterwards 
 observed) set her at ease, and by the time dinner 
 was announced, much of her trepidation had sub- 
 sided. 
 
 I5
 
 178 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 They sat down five-and-twenty to table. 
 
 Nelly was placed between Claud Moore, junior, 
 and a young man whom he addressed as Erie, and 
 who, it seemed, was a coUege friend of his. At the 
 beginning of dinner Claud, with something of the 
 dry, quiet manner of his father, several times 
 spoke to Nelly, but ere long, her left hand neigh- 
 bour contrived to engross her conversation en- 
 tirely. 
 
 Nelly talked to him because he never ceased 
 talking to her, and because she found it rather 
 pleasant to get at once into such easy conversa- 
 tional terms with a stranger; it reassured and 
 gave her confidence. As to the young man
 
 NELLY CAREW. 1 79 
 
 himself, she was not sure whether she liked him 
 or not. It was very evident that he liked her, 
 which state of feeling on the one side generally 
 predisposes towards the awakening of a similar 
 sentiment, in a more or less degree on the other ; 
 but, without being able to specify to herself what 
 it was that was not quite pleasing to her in him, 
 she felt there was a something unsympathetic, 
 rather than actively disagreeable to her about 
 certain things he did and said. 
 
 It was the same with his appearance. As she 
 sat beside him she could not very well study his 
 face, but she felt conscious of the existence of 
 something unsatisfactory about the formation of 
 his forehead, his eyes, and the upper part of his 
 face in general. She could not tell in what the 
 defect existed, and he certainly might, on the 
 whole, be considered good-looking, rather than 
 otherwise ; but still she never looked at him 
 without being struck afresh by this vague sensa- 
 tion of a something unpleasing and inharmonious 
 in the countenance before her.
 
 180 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 The dinner was a long affair, and most of the 
 men stayed somewhat late in the dining-room. 
 Among the first to leave it, however, was Nelly's 
 new acquaintance, and very soon he came and 
 took a place by her side. Our little heroine felt 
 somewhat flattered at his empressement, as what 
 girl in Nelly's place, of Nelly's age, and Nelly's 
 rearing would not do, when the admirer is young, 
 not ill-looking, sufficiently amusing, and the first ! 
 That claim of priority is a grand thing at the 
 time ! I take it as an extremely wise dispensa- 
 tion that it is given to so few of us to marry the 
 man or woman we believed at the moment to be 
 really our first love ; that is to say the object 
 whom youth's inexperience, youth's love of love'f' 
 chance, opportunity, gratified vanity, que sais je, 
 has invested, for the time being, with an in- 
 terest we are pleased to call love, little knowing. 
 Heaven help us ! how that passing fancy, that 
 slips on and off like a glove, is no more to be 
 compared to the actual passion than the head- 
 ache is to the heart-ache, than the gleam of the
 
 NELLY CAREW. 181 
 
 palest star to the blaze of noon. I take it as 
 a general, mind, I don't say as an invariable rule, 
 that when Strephon at forty meets Chloe whom 
 he made such a fool of himself about at twenty, 
 he is very heartily glad that papa pooh pooh'd the 
 thing, and refused to make them an allowance; 
 and no less likely do I consider it, that in Chloe's 
 breast is awakened an equally sincere, though 
 also tardy gratitude. Fair virgin, gentle swain, 
 deem not that I would breathe a word of treason 
 against the majesty of young love or fxrst love, 
 where it is lote indeed ; but the thing is, we are so 
 dreadfully apt, when in our teens, to take the 
 shadow for the substance ; to imagine that him we 
 have danced half a dozen times with at our first 
 ball, and who put inside his waistcoat the faded 
 rose he begged of us, is the " Agamemnon, king 
 of men;" that her we have, on a similar occasion 
 pulled crackers with, and whose broken shoe- 
 string we guarded as the tie that bound our hearts 
 in one, is surely the " unexpressive she," who 
 wields our destiny. All this is very innocent.
 
 182 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 very natural; but in nine cases out of ten, these 
 are only the feeble essays that unfledged love 
 makes with his wings ere they be nerved and 
 strong for a real flight. 
 
 But to go back to Nelly and her admirer. 
 
 Through nearly the whole of the evening he 
 devoted himself exclusively to her. At blind 
 man's buff, no matter who tied on the handker- 
 chief, or how it was secured, it was always Nelly 
 he contrived to catch ; at hide-and-seek, vain 
 were Nelly's attempts to conceal herself when he 
 was one of the seekers ; when Nelly lost her 
 glove, how was it that nobody could find it, though 
 he was close behind her when she dropped it, and 
 he had even been seen to stoop just at that time ? 
 a fact he absolutely denied all recollection of when 
 questioned on the subject. 
 
 And yet when Nelly retired to her little room 
 that night, and, too excited to sleep, went over 
 in her mind all the events of the long long day, 
 lengthened in her memory out of all measure 
 by the events that had been crowded into it, the
 
 NELLY CAREW. 183 
 
 thought of young Erie came over her accom- 
 panied with that uneasy, unsatisfied feeling, that 
 his presence had awakened during the first hour 
 of their acquaintance, and she could not make 
 up her mind as to whether the likelihood of a 
 renewal of his attentions on the morrow was an 
 idea she regarded with desire or dislike. At last, 
 however, 
 
 "The dewy -feathered sleep" 
 
 dropt down with the hush of its silent wings upon 
 her, and she never woke, till the voice of Nora in 
 the next room, singing one of her favourite songs, 
 aroused her, with a confused but pleasant consci- 
 ousness of being somewhere that was not home. 
 
 " Molly, my dear, I hear ye' re gettin' a man, 
 Molly, my dear, I hear yer weddin's goin' on, 
 
 But for fear of a fall recall yer senses in time. 
 
 For in spite o' them all, my charmin' Molly, ye're 
 
 mmel 
 
 I" 
 
 Out rang Nora's clear voice, in the half ironic, 
 half defiant tones that the words suggested.
 
 184 NELLY CAREVV. 
 
 "Whisht, can't ye, Nora!" Nelly heard in 
 Kathleen's softer accents ; " maybe Nelly's asleep 
 yet, and don't want to be scared up with your 
 screechin' !" 
 
 Nora was silent instantly, and Nelly heard 
 footsteps approach the door, and then a listening 
 pause. 
 
 " Come in," she called out ; " I'm not asleep." 
 
 " The top of the morning to ye !" exclaimed the 
 joyous voice ; " I'm afraid it was I wakened ye. 
 I'm heart-sorry if I did ; but ye see I'm like the 
 birds, the minute I wake and see the sunshine, 
 I can't help tuning up. Well, I'll be more 
 careful another morning." 
 
 " But I'm very glad you wakened me," Nelly 
 exclaimed. "Why, you're nearly dressed, and 
 here am I not out of bed yet ! What time's 
 breakfast ?" 
 
 "Any time ye like, just; it's always going on 
 from nine to eleven — half-past eleven. Don't 
 hurry yourself; ye may be sure ye'll find some 
 one won't object to keep ye company !" and she
 
 NELLY CAREW. 185 
 
 laughed a merry laugh. " Ye needn't blush about 
 it, I said nothing." 
 
 " Don't be botherin' her, Nora !" exclaimed 
 Kathleen, coming to Nelly's relief. "How do 
 ye find yourself this morning, Aileen mavour- 
 neen? not tired after your ride, and all the 
 goings on last night? that's right! Now dress 
 yourself quietly, and I won't go down till you're 
 ready." 
 
 Nelly's toilet was not a very complicated one, and 
 she and Kathleen soon made their appearance in 
 the dining-room, where a sprinkling of the guests 
 were assembled. All the w^ay down the long 
 table were placed separate little establishments, 
 to accomodate from one to four persons ; namely, 
 a teapot, cream jug, sugar-basin, one or more 
 cups and saucers, &c., for each person or party, 
 and on ringing the bell, there arrived hot water, 
 toast, slim or potatoe cakes, fried bacon, eggs, 
 &c., while down the centre of the table were 
 ranged, in richest profusion, dainties both solid 
 and delicate. At the head of the table presided
 
 1 86 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Mrs. Moore, assisted by Nora in the distribution 
 of hot coffee. 
 
 The "order of the day" was under discussion 
 when Kathleen and Nelly entered, and the talk 
 thereon was loud, and the opinions various. 
 
 " Come, Erie, have ^/ou no word to say ?" Nelly 
 heard Claud inquire, as she came in; "you're 
 seldom backward in coming forward with a sug- 
 gestion on these occasions. What are you dis- 
 posed to do yourself, eh ?" 
 
 But Erie, it appeared, had no particular wish 
 to do anything ; he said he would rather hear 
 what were the arrangements of the rest of the 
 party — he did not care himself what he did. 
 
 " Oh, you don't, don't you ?" — Nora had caught 
 sight of Nelly's entrance, and the young man's 
 anxious glance in that direction — " very well, 
 then I think you'd better join the boating party, 
 and Nelly, and Jack, and 1, and as many more 
 of us as will fit, can go in the break to Fairy Hill ; 
 yoii'ce seen it, you know ;" and Nora winked 
 aside at Claud, who responded to the sign.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 187 
 
 " Ah," said Claud, " that will do ; or we can 
 ride, Erie, which you like." 
 
 " Thank you," Erie said, and Nelly noticed an 
 increase of the namelessly disagreeable look about 
 the brow and eyes, " I've got a touch of sore 
 throat, and I certainly don't want to make it 
 worse by going on the water. As to riding, my 
 horse was out long enough yesterday." 
 
 Kathleen, seeing the guest was little disposed 
 to afford sport for the mischievous ones, in her 
 turn telegraphed to them. 
 
 "Well, but if he has seen Fairy Hill, that's 
 no reason he mightn't like to see it again. He 
 shall have my place and welcome ; I can ride, or 
 anything." 
 
 The brow cleared, and the young man ex- 
 pressed his satisfaction at the prospect of once 
 more beholding Fairy Hill. 
 
 " Come, now," Kathleen said, " if you havn't 
 breakfasted, Nelly and I invite you to join our 
 party." 
 
 The meal concluded, Kathleen took Nelly off
 
 188 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 to the garden, to show her her own particular pet 
 flowers, walks, and summer-house. 
 
 '* Fairy Hill's a lovely place," Kathleen said, 
 when she and her cousin were alone ; " and it's 
 a beautiful drive there. He'^s a capital whip, and 
 we'll make him drive ; and you shall sit on the 
 box, if you like, and have a good view of the 
 country, as you don't know it." 
 
 "He— who? Mr. Erie?" 
 
 " Erie ? Oh, that's only his Christian name ; 
 his name's Carew."
 
 NELLY CAREW. 189 
 
 CHAPTER XVIjII. 
 
 ON THE ROAD. 
 
 Lunch o-er, the division of the party that was 
 bound for Fairy Hill prepared to take its depar- 
 ture. 
 
 Kathleen, who was of the riding party, 
 whispered a w^ord to her sister ; Nora nodded. 
 
 " Mr. Carew," she said, " I think you're the 
 best whip of us, and the horses are very fresh — 
 (you'll have to keep a look out on Banshee at 
 starting) — will you drive? Nelly, you're the 
 last comer and havn't seen the country; you 
 shall sit on the box, my child — nonsense!" as 
 Nelly hesitated, " up with ye ; Mr. Carew, give 
 her a hand," and in another moment Nelly found 
 herself perched on the high seat, looking down on
 
 190 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 the glossy backs of the spirited horses that 
 champed their bits and foamed with eagerness to 
 start. 
 
 After a few rearings and plunges on the part 
 of Banshee, off they "went, careering along 
 through the lovely country, by high-roads and 
 by-roads. Now beneath branches so tliick and 
 drooping that they were obliged to put aside the 
 most forward sprays as they passed, now emerg- 
 ing into a wide, open country, with fields and 
 pastures, hills and valleys in beauteous alter- 
 nation. 
 
 In the body of the break, six Irish lads and 
 lasses, in the height of health and spirits, were 
 not likely to make a grave or a silent party, more 
 especially as the equestrian division every now 
 and then cantered up to them or past them ; and 
 on such occasions, jeers and personalities, more 
 fantastic than complimentary, were commonly 
 exchanged. Nelly noticed that none of these 
 were ever launched at her companion, but she 
 thought this probably arose from the fact of his
 
 NELLY CAREW. 191 
 
 being English, and, therefore, not accustomed to 
 such a style of intercourse. Thus unmolested by 
 tl\e skirmishers he addressed himself exclusively 
 to her. 
 
 " Have you ever been in England ? " he asked. 
 
 '' Never." 
 
 " Should you not like to go ? " 
 
 " I hardly know," Nelly said, " I'm very fond 
 of my poor old Ireland, though you English 
 people despise it. And yet I've no great reason 
 to be fond of it," she added with a sigh. 
 
 " Why do you think we despise it ? Why, my 
 mother's family were Irish, and, quite independent 
 of that, I, for one, have acquired within the last 
 twenty-four hours, or thereabouts, an enormous 
 respect, not to say affection, for a country that can 
 produce — well, one or two things IVe seen in that 
 space of time. But why do you say you have no 
 great reason to be fond of it, and say it so signi- 
 ficantly ? tell me, do ; " and he bent down towards 
 her. 
 
 The recollection of the last time she had so sat.
 
 192 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 been so addressed, flashed upon her with a sensa- 
 tion of pain, almost of self reproach ; and she drew 
 back from the young man with a feeling approach- 
 ing to repulsion as she thought of Victor. 
 
 " Oh," she said carelessly, " there's nothing to 
 tell ; I meant nothing particular. Look at Kath- 
 leen, how well she looks on horseback !" 
 
 " Too tall and thin; yesterday, for the first 
 time in my life, I saw my beau-ideal of a woman 
 on horseback. Do you know I dreamt of it all 
 night, and had a horrible nightmare at the recol- 
 lection of that whirling plunge of the horse. It 
 was such a relief when I woke ! But you say 
 you don't know whether you would like to see 
 England or not ; does that mean that you object 
 to leaving Ireland ? are you so happy at home ? 
 but every home must be happy when you are 
 there to make it so !" 
 
 Nelly was silent. 
 
 " Why are you so reserved with me ? " he 
 inquired, after a pause; "does what I say dis- 
 please you ? heaven knows I'd sooner bite off my
 
 NELLY CAREW. 193 
 
 tongue than do that; look up and tell me you are 
 not angry with me." 
 
 " Nonsense !" Nelly said, half laughing, half 
 pettishly, " what on earth should I be angry with 
 you for? I have no particular reserve from you, 
 I've nothing particular — certainly nothing in- 
 teresting — either to tell or to conceal." 
 
 " How can you say so ? you hioio that every- 
 thing about you, to the veriest detail of your 
 every-day life, must be interesting to me. Tell 
 me one thing, at all events; do you stay here 
 long?" 
 
 " I don't know. And you ?" 
 
 *' That depends entirely on circumstances. 
 And then you go home again ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " To your mother?" 
 
 " I have no mother." 
 
 " And any brothers or sisters ?" 
 
 " None at home." 
 
 " Then you live with your father only ? " 
 
 " And my step-mother.'' 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 He paused, and hesitated as if he wished to say 
 something but feared to do so ; then speaking 
 with an efiPort, he said: — 
 
 " Forgive me — don't think me impertinently 
 curious — but — is that the reason you do not talk 
 of home?" 
 
 « Why do you ask?" 
 
 " For a reason I hope to give you one day." 
 
 " Well, now that you have cross-questioned 
 me, tell me something about your own home and 
 belongings." 
 
 " Really ! you care to know ? " 
 
 Nelly did not much care to know, but she 
 wished to change the subject. 
 
 " Well," he went on, '^ I have a father and one 
 sister ; my mother has been dead some years. My 
 father's fortune is very large, and of course 
 comes to me. Ours is a beautiful place. Coin- 
 brook Abbey ; I know you'd like it, a great old 
 house with such a terrace : are you fond of old 
 houses ? " 
 
 " Very."
 
 NELLY CAREW. 195 
 
 " Thaf's right, and there are splendid gardens 
 with fountains and fishponds and all sorts of 
 things; and a park of I don't know how many 
 acres. Then there's a picture gallery in the 
 house. Do you like pictures ? " 
 
 " I've hardly seen any good ones, but I think 
 I should like them if I did. You have fine 
 horses, I suppose ? " Nelly's interest was great in 
 horseflesh. 
 
 " Oh, haven't we! I've two that would carry 
 you splendidly." 
 
 " I suppose," Nelly said, " the estate has been 
 a long time in your family ? " 
 
 The young man reddened. " No, not very 
 long : my father bought it." 
 
 " Oh," Nelly replied, her growing interest in 
 the place and its possessors somewhat damped. 
 Nelly had a decided prejudice in favour of birth 
 and against parvenus. 
 
 Mr. Carew noted the impression. " But my 
 mother was the niece of a marquess, and an 
 
 K 2
 
 196 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 heiress," he said, with a certain tone of pride. 
 " My grandmother was Lady Dorothea Carew." 
 
 " Carew?" 
 
 " Yes, my mother being an heiress, my father 
 took her name when he married her." 
 
 " And what was his name before ?" 
 
 " Not a very pretty one," the young man said 
 with a laugh that testified more of annoyance than 
 amusement ; " Wilkins." 
 
 " Oh," Nelly repeated once more ; the ther- 
 mometer of her respect for the family had 
 descended many degrees farther. 
 
 Little more conversation took place before their 
 arrival at Fairy Hill. Reaching the bottom, the 
 horses were left to the care of the servants, and 
 the party ascended a lovely winding path on foot. 
 Nelly, who reaUy delighted in beautiful scenery, 
 was honestly enthusiastic at the charm of the 
 site itself, and the wonderful beauty and extent 
 of the view it commanded. Her companion, 
 however, who had given her his arm the 
 moment they had descended from the break,
 
 NELLY CAREW. 197 
 
 responded only by commonplaces to her expres- 
 sions of delight. 
 
 " For a man who couldn't be content with the 
 first view of Fairy Hill, I think you take it pretty 
 easy, Mr. Carew," Nora said, joining them. 
 
 "I? I think it lovely, charming! but I was 
 thinking of something else, I believe." 
 
 " I b'lieve ye were." Nora with difficulty 
 restrained a wink. " Wliat was he thinking of, 
 Nelly, can ye guess ? Well, good bye to ye, my 
 children ; I give ye my blessing !" and Nora, 
 making the sign in the air employed as a benedic- 
 tion by the Irish, danced off, singing — 
 
 " Oh Molly honey, 
 
 But love is bonny, 
 
 A little while, while it's new." 
 
 Nelly felt annoyed at this sort of systematic bring- 
 ing of herself and Mr. Carew together ; she made 
 some excuse to withdraw her arm from his, and 
 by degrees glided into the group that surrounded 
 Kathleen. After awhile the two cousins sepa-
 
 198 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 rated themselves from the rest, and walked a little 
 apart. 
 
 "How do ye like him, Nelly?" Kathleen said, 
 fixing her eyes scrutinisingly on her companion's 
 face. 
 
 " Well, only middling," Nelly replied, frankly. 
 " Who is he? Tell me something about him." 
 
 " I don't know much myself. He's the only son 
 of a man whose father made a great fortune in 
 some trade or other ; a purse-proud, vulgar sort of 
 man, I fancy, but his mother's a woman of family, 
 and had a little money too; they call her an 
 heiress, to account for their taking her name. 
 This young man was at college with Claud, and 
 was very civil to him, and took him down to 
 Colnbrook Abbey — their place — last vacation, 
 and as they were all extremely hospitable and 
 polite to him, he couldn't do less than invite 
 Mr. Carew here. But I don't think he cares 
 much about him. He's a great catch in the way 
 of a fortune, but I don't think very much of him ; 
 and if ye don't like him and won't have him,
 
 NELLY CAREW. 199 
 
 perhaps it may be just as well. Still, I wouldn't 
 put ye oif him, mind, if ye did like him, for I 
 know no harm at all of him, except that I suspect 
 he's got a bit of a temper. He don't take our 
 jokes very kindly, but that's, maybe, only because 
 he's English and don't understand them. But 
 take my advice, Nelly dear, look before ye leap, 
 either way; seeing him every day, you'll have 
 plenty of opportunities of seeing what's in him, 
 and you may trust to my keeping a sharp look- 
 out on my gentleman. I wouldn't have ye throw 
 yourself away, no, not on the king's son, if he 
 wasn't a good fellow and likely to make ye a good 
 husband, ye little dear!" and Kathleen wound up 
 her oration with a cordial kiss, which Nelly as 
 cordially returned. 
 
 " One thing I wish," she said, after a moment's 
 hesitation — "I wish nobody would — would seem 
 to put us together ; do you understand ? and that 
 Nora wouldn't make jokes about it. It's not fair 
 to either of us ; and you know I've been brought 
 up in such a retired way — am so new to society —
 
 200 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 that it's awkward — makes me feel uncomfortable. 
 Do you think Nora will make allowance for 
 this?" 
 
 " I'm quite sure the moment Nora knows that 
 her jokes can cause ye one moment's annoyance 
 she'll stop them. Her spirits run away with her, 
 but her heart I can answer for. Nora, come 
 here ! Now, Nelly, just say to her what you've 
 said to me. Always speak out with her — that's 
 the way to take Nora." 
 
 And leaving the two girls to finish their little 
 conference, Kathleen, always considerate, always 
 conciliating, went off to join Mr. Carew, who was 
 walking moodily apart, and soon she succeede'd in 
 bringing him back to good humour, by turning 
 the conversation on Nelly and her perfections.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE POX TAKES MATTERS IN HAND. 
 
 Three weeks did Nelly and her father spend 
 undisturbed, among all the enjoyments of Carrick- 
 na-Moyle ; then came a summons from the Fox, 
 ordering their return in a manner too peremptory 
 to admit of more than a few days' delay, and very 
 unwillingly did both prepare for their return. 
 
 To poor Nelly the notion of going back to her 
 prison was so horrible that, notwithstanding her 
 usual reserve on the point, she could not refrain 
 from a partial confidence with Kathleen and Noi-a 
 on the subject of her home trials. 
 
 " Bad luck to her ugly face !" was Nora's 
 comment on Mrs. O'Dell; "it's just a she-devil 
 she must be to bully you^ ye poor little lamb ! I 
 
 K 5
 
 202 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 wish I had the handling of her !" and Nora's face 
 lighted at the notion of the combat. " I vow and 
 declare I'd like to go to stay at Coolmore, just 
 for the sake of the dressings I'd give her every 
 now and then! Why don't ye up and give her a 
 bit of your mind when she's down on ye? the 
 mushroom!^ But I suppose ye daren't; some 
 people can't, more's the pity ; there'll always be 
 wolves and lambs, all the Avorld over. Well, any 
 way sho's not likely to trouble ye long, I suspect, 
 eh ? Now, I've never bothered ye on the subject 
 of a friend of ours, who shall be nameless, since 
 ye asked me not, but still if ye'd anything it 
 would relieve your mind to communicate on that 
 same point, I'm willing to listen, mind." 
 
 " No, really I've nothing to tell you, Nora dear. 
 The fact is I don't much like him, and rather try 
 to keep him off. Do you know, at times, I'm a 
 little afraid of him ; he looks so black when any- 
 
 ^ The Irish name for a parvenu.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 208 
 
 thing doesn't please him. However, never mind 
 talking about him now." 
 
 " Well, any way," Kathleen said, "you'll come 
 back to us whenever ye can. If that ugly dragon 
 won't let Dick away, maybe she'll loosen her clawe; 
 from you now and again. Jack could go over and 
 fetch ye back any time, and be only too glad ol 
 the chance, poor fellow .' He's had none yet, on 
 account of your English friend being so forward 
 in the race." 
 
 All too rapidly the day for departure arrived, 
 and Nelly bade adieu to Carrick-na-moyle, and 
 its warm-hearted inhabitants — not without tears. 
 Mr. Carew assisted her to mount the "cowlt," 
 and at parting pressed her hand. 
 
 " I shall soon see you again," he said. At the 
 time, Nelly, in her trouble at the thought of what 
 she was leaving and what returning to, did not 
 note the words, but as she and her father rode 
 along mutely, they after a time recurred to her, 
 and she was vaguely speculating on their mean- 
 ing, when Mr. O'Dell broke the silence.
 
 204 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 "I've asked young Carew to come and stay 
 with us for awhile, Nelly." 
 
 "Have you, papa? I'm sorry — at least, I'd 
 rather " 
 
 " You'd rather not ? Why, child, it was on 
 your account I asked him. He certainly seems 
 considerably smitten, and he's young, good-look- 
 ing, and will have twelve or fifteen thousand a 
 year one of these days. What fault do you find 
 with him?" 
 
 " No particular fault, but, somehow — I don't 
 like him!" 
 
 " Pooh, child, a fancy ! When you see him all 
 alone at Coolmore, you'll like him better, I've 
 no doubt. Let me tell you there are not such 
 birds to be caught on every bush." 
 
 The fact was, that Richard O'Dell, in inviting 
 Mr. Carew to Coolmore, was acting under the 
 Fox's orders. In writing to her he had men- 
 tioned Nelly's conquest, and as his wife's desire 
 was to get rid of her step-daughter, coute que 
 coute, she had issued her commands that he
 
 NELLY CAREW. 205 
 
 should be asked to Coolmore if he did not make 
 his proposals before the return thither. 
 
 Accordingly, a few days after their arrival, Mr. 
 Carew made his appearance, and was received by 
 the Fox with unusual graciousness. 
 
 All through the evening, from her sofa, to 
 which her actual position a good deal confined 
 her, she watched Nelly and the young man from 
 under the droop of her heavy lids, laying in a 
 store of observation on which to act, should she 
 find it necessary so to do. 
 
 " Nelly shall marry him," said the Fox to 
 herself, with an inward chuckle, "so I shall get 
 rid of her; his fortune will make him wholly 
 indifferent to anything she might be expected to 
 have, and I and mine will reap the benefit of it, 
 and my friend, Victor, will be circumvented! 
 Besides, there's a look about that forehead and 
 eye of his " 
 
 Next morning, having despatched Nelly on 
 some errand, and got rid of her husband, Mrs. 
 O'Dell commenced operations.
 
 206 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 "Mr. Carew," she blandly commenced, in her 
 pretty French accent and softest tones, " I hear 
 that Colnbrook Abbey is one of the most beau- 
 tiful and best-kept places in England ; Nelly has 
 been talking to me about it. Poor child ! I wish 
 she could see something of England ; it is such 
 a pity she should be left to vegetate in this out- 
 of-the-way place ! And yet, no doubt, it will be 
 her fate. I suppose I should not object if it is 
 her father's wish that she should be settled near 
 him ; but — it is such a pity — she might, I think, 
 do better." 
 
 "Do you mean," he exclaimed, in great agi- 
 tation, " is there — has she any definite pros- 
 pect?" 
 
 " Well — no, not quite that, perhaps — she is still 
 so very young !" 
 
 "But she will get older every day — she looks 
 eighteen or nineteen now, though I am told she 
 is not seventeen. Forgive my pressing you on 
 the point — it is one of deep interest to me — has 
 she any attachment?"
 
 NELLY CAREW. 207 
 
 "Mon Dieu ! no — no attachment; it is, up to 
 the present, merely a thing en Vair. She has not 
 seen the young man now for about a year ; but 
 he certainly was very fond of her, and my hus- 
 band is quite devoted to him, and wishes for the 
 match. He is a charming young man, there is 
 no denying it, handsome, clever, amiable, and 
 no doubt when he comes back in another year 
 or two, Nelly will regard him with diiFerent eyes ; 
 so I suppose it is to be. Still I regret — I may 
 be wrong — but I do regret that Nelly should not 
 see more of the world before she accepts this lot 
 definitively. After all, it is a sort of burying 
 herself alive, to settle down, at her age, on a 
 narrow income, and in a place like this ! Surely 
 with her beauty and attractions she might do 
 better !" 
 
 " Do better ? of course she might ! She might 
 marry anybody !" 
 
 Mr. O'Dell's entrance put a stop to further 
 confidences, and with a greatly disturbed mind,
 
 208 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 Erie Carew retired to ponder on what he had 
 heard. 
 
 Two nights later Nelly was honoured by a 
 visit from her step-mother in her room, after she 
 had retired to go to bed. As usual, that lady 
 startled her by entering without knocking. 
 
 Mrs. O'Dell sat down, and without further 
 preliminary commenced on the subject of her 
 errand. 
 
 " Has Mr. Carew proposed to you yet ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " And why not ?" 
 
 " Why not ? I suppose — really I cannot 
 tell." 
 
 " Bah ! always the same wretched subterfuges. 
 Well, / can and will tell. Because, instead of 
 encouraging him, as you ought to be too glad 
 and proud to do, you treat him with systematic 
 and studied coldness. I have had my eye on you 
 from the beginning, and noted your behaviour. 
 Now, you know me. I tell you I am resolved 
 that you shall marry him ; I have been burdened
 
 NELLY CAREW. 209 
 
 with you quite long enough. I will not have 
 you giving yourself airs in my house, to those 
 I choose to bring into it. This match is infi- 
 nitely beyond anything you have the slightest 
 right to expect, and I will permit no fantastic 
 notions of a child like you to stand in the way of 
 it. You will therefore graciously condescend to 
 accept Mr. Carew's addresses, and marry him as 
 soon as you can." 
 
 For a moment Nelly stood stunned and silent. 
 Wild thoughts of revolt — of appeal to her father 
 — of some desperate and decisive act, to free 
 herself from this monstrous, this intolerable 
 tyranny, rushed across her brain. But the cold 
 malignant eye fixed on her, reading the thoughts 
 of her poor storm-swayed heart, as usual beat 
 down all idea of resistance. 
 
 She flung herself at her step-mother's feet. 
 
 "Oh, for pity's sake — for God's sake — don't 
 drive me into this marriage! Oh, think how 
 young I am ! think of all the dreadftil years that 
 lie before me if I marry this man, who is to me
 
 210 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 an object of absolute antipathy — of fear ! Oh* 
 pity me, bear with me a little longer ! I will do 
 anything — anything in the wide world — you may 
 require, if you will but spare me in this ! You 
 are a woman, young yourself, can you not feel 
 what it must be to be linked for all your dreadful 
 life long with a man to whom you daily feel more 
 and more of distrust — of mortal repulsion ?" 
 
 Mrs. O'Dell rose. " Enough of this absurd 
 scene. I have signified to you my decision and 
 my reasons for forming it. It is for you to obey. 
 
 I WILL HAVE IT SO." 
 
 She left the room, and Nelly remained stand- 
 ing on the spot where she had risen from her 
 knees, her dry eyes glaring, her hair pushed 
 back from her hot face with her clenched 
 hands. 
 
 Again the thought of Victor came across her 
 in contrast with this hated man, the recollection 
 of those words of his, as he drove her home from 
 Rosscronan not a year ago. She remembered 
 the voice in which they Avere spoken, and she
 
 NELLY CAREW. 211 
 
 comprehended their meaning now — now that it 
 was too late, now that her own hands were forced 
 to build up the barrier that w^as to separate her 
 from him for ever. 
 
 Through the long night desperate thoughts 
 and temptations assailed her ; thoughts of flight, 
 of self-destruction, of meeting Mr. Carew's de- 
 claration with a protestation of the hatred and 
 disgust with which he inspired her, of casting 
 back defiance to her step-mother, and accepting 
 the consequences, be they what they might. 
 
 So through the night. Then in the morning 
 she rose feeble, worn-out, conquered by her own 
 emotions nearly as much as by that dominant 
 and resistless will. 
 
 Next day Mr. Carew made his proposals, and 
 was accepted. 
 
 In another fortnight the county paper an- 
 nounced with prodigious flourishes the auspicious 
 union celebrated at Coolmore House, dwelt 
 largely on the charms and accomplishments of the 
 bride, on the wealth and distinction of the bride-
 
 212 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 groom, on the long and felicitous career that 
 might be expected to lie before the young, most 
 happy, and most perfectly assorted couple, &c., &c. 
 And the young, happy, and perfectly assorted 
 couple drove off in a carriage and four, to make 
 a wedding trip to Killarney, and the Fox exulted 
 inwardly, and said, " I am, and there is none 
 beside me."
 
 NELLY CAREW. 213 
 
 CHAPTEK XX. 
 
 THE FOX CATCHES A TARTAR. 
 
 Xelly was gone. Lorry M'c Swiggan had given 
 the last kiss to her hand, bending over it reve- 
 rently as it had been the hand of a queen ; he 
 had seen, through his own blinding, burning 
 tears, the last glimpse of her pale, tearless face, 
 the carriage, even, had disappeared in the turn of 
 the avenue, and the last lingerers, who had col- 
 lected to see the sight, and wish " Miss Ellen" 
 luck, were dispersing: and still the old man 
 stood there, bareheaded, beneath the midsum- 
 mer sun, looking along the track where she had 
 vanished. 
 
 At last he drew the back of his hand across his 
 eyes, and with bowed head and heavy gait, as
 
 214 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 one on whom the weight of many years had sud- 
 denly been laid, sought his usual retreat, the 
 harness-room. 
 
 There he sat down on his wooden stool (her 
 chair no one should sit upon again — he had 
 driven a nail into the wall, and hung it up there) 
 placed his elbows on his knees, his head in his 
 hands, and began to ruminate. 
 
 " Mavourneen, mavourneen, Aileen asthore, 
 the like iv ye 111 niver see again till I see the 
 blissed saints in heaven, amin. An' the Lord 
 forbid I'd ever see the like o' yon one again, for 
 I'm thinkin' it's only in the other place her likes is 
 to be found. Me darlin', me darlin', yer heart's not 
 gone with yon ugly-browed fella that's took ye 
 away wid him. He's rich, an' he's high-spoken, 
 an' it isn't little he thinks iv himself, but I've 
 seen betther gintlemen that hadn't a sixpence to 
 every wan of his hundreds. It was yon one that 
 dhriv ye to it, wan way or another, my curse on 
 the ugly mushroom, that couldn't rest, day or 
 night, till she got yer father's daughter out of her
 
 NELLY CAREW. 215 
 
 own house an' home, and her dhirty self into it ! 
 Well, if ill comes iv it, it's ould Lorry ye'U have 
 to answer to, ye green little limb o' the divil, 
 that's as sure a thing as that I'm sittin' this 
 minute on me stool here, all me lone in the wide 
 world. This is what comes o' Misther Victhor 
 takiii' himself oiF to for'n parts ; sure mightn't he 
 have known it wasn't likely the likes iv her 'ud 
 be let wait for him. Ah, it's well said — 
 
 " ' Me curse upon ye, Jarmany, the hour ye began, 
 It's many's the brave man ye took from Irelan'. ' 
 
 France and Jarmany, it's all wan. Och, wirra- 
 sthrew I what '11 I do, any way now ye 're gone, 
 me darlin', me jewil, wid yer blissid blue eyes, 
 and the smile in them — though it's more tears 
 was in them lately ! I'm ould an' I'm failed, 
 and me, heart's dhry and hard, all but the wan 
 warm soft place where ye lay, me beauty ; an' 
 the day's gone by when I could find somethin' 
 else to look to for comfort ; an' if that place is 
 left empty, I'm thinkin' it '11 get filled with hate
 
 216 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 and bittherness, an' — well, well, it's no use talkin', 
 no use talkin' !" and Lorry, rising from his seat, 
 went to the stable to console himself with unbur- 
 dening his grief a little further to the " cowlt," 
 who, as soon as he laid his hand on the lock of 
 the door, neighed in anticipation of his mistress's 
 morning visit, with the usual offering of a carrot 
 or a piece of sugar. Even this feeble consolation 
 was not long to be left him, for Mr. O'Dell had 
 given his daughter the horse — it was her sole 
 marriage portion, and he was to leave Coolmore 
 when the young couple returned from their ex- 
 cursion. 
 
 The thirst for power, and the thirst for con- 
 quest, grow with the increase of either. The 
 Fox had already accomplished all and every of 
 the chief objects she had set her brain and her 
 will to obtain. She had married Eichard O'Dell, 
 for whom, independent of her interested views, 
 she entertained such a love as a woman of 
 her stamp might entertain; a love that had in 
 it neither tenderness, esteem, generosity, nor
 
 NELLY CAREW. 217 
 
 woman's commonest virtue, devotion to its ob- 
 ject — a cruel, capricious, animal love. She had 
 brought his property from a state of utter and 
 apparently hopeless embarrassment, into a com- 
 paratively flourishing condition ; she had esta- 
 blished the household according to her own 
 views, with one exception ; and, finally, she had 
 crowned her triumphs by getting effectually rid 
 of Xelly, with the happy attendant circumstances 
 of not parting with any portion of her dearly- 
 beloved and hardly-extracted money, of sorely 
 wounding Victor Dillon in his deepest affections, 
 and of bestowing Nelly on a man with whom she 
 had many reasons to hope she would be very 
 miserable. 
 
 These were great and worthy conquests ; but 
 what victor, from Caesar downwards, was ever 
 content, the din of battle hushed, the trumpet 
 that told of glory silenced, to rest on his past 
 triumphs, and sigh not for more worlds to 
 conquer ? 
 
 Thus it was with the Fox. The stir and 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 excitement attendant on her last exploit — Nelly's 
 marriage — over, she began to look around for new 
 opportunities of being up and doing. 
 
 I have said she had arranged the plan of her 
 household exactly as she wished, with one excep- 
 tion. That exception regarded Lorry. She had 
 long determined to cast him out on the wide 
 world ; but whether it was that he had been so 
 very careful to avoid giving her any possible 
 excuse for doing so, or that, occupied with more 
 important matters, she had laid aside the execu- 
 tion of her project till she might be at leisure, or 
 in want of some little pleasing excitement of this 
 kind, it is hard to say. 
 
 Now, however, she began to feel that it would 
 be a relief to the growing monotony of her 
 present life to torment the old servant, and finally 
 to cast him out of the easy service he had occu- 
 pied for years, to find, in his old age, a living 
 when and how he might best procure it. Ac- 
 cordingly, one day she ordered him to appear
 
 NELLY CAREW. 219 
 
 in her august presence, whither Lorry, boding 
 mischief, repaired. 
 
 " She may do her worst now, though," said 
 Lorry. " All haart's taken out o' me to stay in 
 the place wanst me darlin's out iv it, and I may 
 jist as well lie down and die in wan place as in 
 another. So here's to ye, ye ill-contrived limb — 
 do yer worst, ye'll not dash ould Lorry yet !" 
 
 "Lorry," said the Fox, not deigning to raise 
 her eyelids on him, but going on with the work 
 she had in her hand, " the gardener wants assist- 
 ance in the garden, and now that Miss Ellen is 
 gone, and you have less employment, I intend 
 you to do what work he may require." 
 
 The blood rushed to Lorry's face, but he 
 controlled his temper by a powerful effort. 
 
 " By yer lave, ma'am, I was set by the 
 masther's father at the head iv his stables twenty- 
 five year ago ; since that I never done a hand's 
 turn o' work in any other departiment, and I 
 never was commanded by any wan but mo 
 masther, me missis, or their childther. Savin' 
 
 L 2
 
 220 NKLLY CAREW. 
 
 yer presence, ma'am, Fm too ould now to learn 
 gardenin' or to obey gardener's ordthers- — no dis- 
 respec' to you, ma'am." 
 
 The Fox laid her work on her lap, raised her 
 eyelids, and fixed her eyes upon him with an air 
 of affected amazement ; but Lorry's blood was 
 up now, and he supported her gaze with perfect 
 steadiness. 
 
 " I am to understand, then, that you refuse ?" 
 
 " Yis, ma'am." 
 
 The apparent composure of the old servant, 
 his almost forestalling her in the matter of the 
 discharge — for of course he must know there was 
 now no other alternative — provoked Mrs. O'Dell ; 
 so easy a victory could hardly be called a victory at 
 all — the enemy seemed no way harassed or dis- 
 tressed, and not the least disposed to sue for any 
 conditions. 
 
 " Then I discharge you forthwith I make your 
 preparations to leave this house as soon as you 
 can. I will have no idlers about me, corrupting 
 their fellows by their example I"
 
 NELLY CAREW. 221 
 
 " I ax yer pardon, ma'am, but maybe, bein' a 
 for'ner, ye don't know that it's the custom to 
 give a sarvint ye discharge a month's wages or a 
 month's warnin'. I'm willin' to accommodate ye 
 aither way." 
 
 And, despite his inward wrath, Lorry's eye 
 twinkled with amusement at the growing indig- 
 nation of the Fox. 
 
 " Insolent ! leave the room, or you shall be 
 turned out without a character !" 
 
 "Well, now I'll jist make bould to tell ye, 
 ma'am, I'm in no disthress for a charackther at 
 all, at all. It's jist as like as not that I mayn't 
 go into any other place ; if I do, there's plinty 
 and plinty hereabouts knows me well, an' 'ud be 
 ready an' willin' to take me, or to help me to a 
 good sarvice on that knowledge ; an' anyway I'll 
 have the good word o' Miss Ellen, that was born 
 an' bred in the place, and that's beloved an' 
 respected by high an' low. So ye'll jist plase 
 yerself, ma'am, in the matther of the charackther. 
 It's sorry I'd be to ax ye to put yer name to any
 
 222 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 account o' me that wasn't accordin' to yer raal 
 opinion iv me, or agen yer conscience." 
 
 It was not often that the Fox got into a rage, 
 but such was now her fury, that she could not 
 find words to interrupt Lorry's discourse, and he 
 had turned to leave the room before she could 
 speak. 
 
 " Wretch r she exclaimed, shaking her clenched 
 hand at him, "you shall repent this dearly — 
 dearly !" 
 
 Lorry contented himself with a parting look 
 that nearly tempted her to fling at his head the 
 inkstand that stood on the table beside her. But 
 in another moment he had left the room, quietly 
 closing the door after him. 
 
 When he got back to the yard, Mr. O'Dell was 
 dismounting from his horse. 
 
 "Where the devil have you been. Lorry?" he 
 exclaimed, impatiently. 
 
 " Gettin' me discharge from the misthress, sir," 
 said Lorry, with almost a grin. Mr. O'Dell 
 reddened; the Fox had hitherto refrained from
 
 NELLY CARF.W. 223 
 
 meddling personally in the stable department — 
 here, at least, he had been allowed to remain 
 master. 
 
 '-" What for ? What the deuce have you been 
 at, you old fool ?" 
 
 "The misthress was wishful, sir, I'd laarn to 
 be gardener's boy, and I made bould to tell her 
 I didn't feel anyways a lainin' to it. So she sent 
 me about me business." 
 
 Mr. O'Dell looked, as he felt, extremel}' vexed. 
 Both his better feelings and his convenience were 
 seriously concerned in the matter. 
 
 " Come, Lorry," he said, after a pause, " there 
 must be some little misunderstanding in this. 
 I'll speak to your mistress, and see if we can't 
 set matters right." 
 
 " By yer lave, sir, no. The misthress has long 
 been out o' concait wid me, an' she said words 
 to me this day I never expected to hear from 
 wan belongin' to ye. So, if ye plase, sir, we'll 
 jist let things stand as they are." 
 
 "You're an old fool. Lorry," his master said,
 
 224 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 . and in no small vexation turned to enter the 
 house. That evening Lorry had the satisfaction 
 of learning that " there had been the divil's own 
 ructions between the masther and misthress,'* 
 and that Lorry's name had been frequently heard 
 in the fray.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 THE CLOSE OF THE HONEYMOON. 
 
 Nelly had been about a month married, and the 
 weddino; excursion was drawins; to a close. We 
 need hardly ask what it had been to her, knowing 
 the feelings with which it was undertaken. And 
 yet, seeing that the die Avas cast, she had done all 
 she could to make the best of this most inaus- 
 picious union. She had striven to rejoice in the 
 comparative freedom she now enjoyed ; to feel 
 towards the man who had bestowed it on her, 
 who loved her so passionately — such love as it 
 was — who lavished on her a thousand material 
 proofs of affection, at least gratitude, if riot attach- 
 ment. How she succeeded remains to be seen. 
 
 l 5
 
 226 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 One evening she was sitting alone, waiting for 
 her husband's return to tea. The rain had fallen 
 with ceaseless, dreary monotony since the morn- 
 ing, and the inn, where they had taken up their 
 quarters for a few days on their homeward way, 
 was not remarkable either for comfort or cheer- 
 fulness. In fine weather it was well enough, 
 being much surrounded with trees; but now the 
 shade of these, the melancholy soughing of the 
 wind through their heavy foliage, the constant 
 patter of the rain on their leaves, and the drip 
 from them on the dark, wet ground, only added 
 to the sense of damp, dreary discomfort. And as 
 the shadows of night drew on, and the chill came 
 with them, Nelly sitting by the window, looking 
 out on the rain, felt a weight upon her heart that 
 wellnigh crushed it. 
 
 All day she had had the infliction of lier hus- 
 band's presence on her. Hardly one man in a 
 thousand, especially if he be young and active, 
 rather of limb than of brain, knows how to spend 
 a whole day — a wet day moreover — in the house,
 
 NELLY CAREW. 227 
 
 without rendering his presence there intolerable 
 to his womankind ; and most assuredly Mr. Carew 
 was not an exception to the rule. He had passed 
 the morning, therefore, in wandering about the 
 house, studying the weather from all the different 
 aspects the various windows commanded. He 
 had grumbled and sworn at it, had sung and 
 whistled snatches of airs dismally out of time ; had 
 walked up and down the sitting-room with his 
 hands in his pockets and a creak in one of his 
 boots, till Nelly's nerves were wrought to that 
 pitch of excitement that she could have cried from 
 very irritation. 
 
 These performances, moreover, were attended 
 with such a consumption of cigars that the room 
 was thick with smoke, and that Nelly's dress, hair, 
 work even, were so impregnated with the odour 
 that days could not remove it. 
 
 In the afternoon his amusements were slightly 
 varied. He entertained Nelly with an account of 
 the pedigree of his grandmother, I^ady Dorothea, 
 omitting none of the intermarriages that had
 
 228 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 occurred in her family, and introducing discursive 
 and slightly obscure recitals respecting the fa- 
 milies with whom such marriages had taken place, 
 during the last century or two; all the time 
 balancing his chair on one leg in such a way that 
 only repeated clutches at the edge of the table 
 enabled him to avoid measurinoj his leng-th on the 
 floor many times during the course of his narrative. 
 This amusement, however, and happily the history 
 itself, being brought to an abrupt close by his 
 having, in one of his snatches at the table, failed 
 to grasp it, and merely succeeded in drawing off 
 the table-cover, with Nelly's work-box and writing 
 materials, inkstand included, he was fain to seek 
 some other mode of killing time, and w^th this 
 object he sought from the recesses of some trunk 
 or other receptacle, where it had hitherto happily 
 lain, perdu, a French hunting-horn, from which 
 he drew sounds of so fearful a description that 
 Nelly's patience at last fairly gave way, and she 
 told him she could not support so intolerable a 
 disturbance.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 229 
 
 The result of this communication was a fit 
 of sulks, lasting from thence till after dinner, 
 when happily Mr. Carew, being no longer able to 
 endure the confinement, sallied forth for a walk 
 in the rain, as he might, with advantage to all 
 parties, have done earlier. 
 
 At last Nelly was roused from her very un- 
 cheerful musings by his step on the stairs. 
 
 The step on the stair ! Few sounds echo with 
 a significance like that sound. Every woman's 
 heart is, or at some time has been a thermometer 
 whose state may be tested by the sensation of 
 risino; or sinking that it bring-s ! 
 
 His first word, on entering, was an oath. 
 
 '• No light ! Here — Joseph — some of you — 
 bring candles ! Nelly, where are you ? Pleasant 
 this, coming out of the most damnable weather in 
 Christendom to break one's head in a confounded 
 inn parlour!" and growling like a discontented 
 bull who is working himself into a fury, he flung 
 himself on a chair till lights appeared. 
 
 "Here," he said, sulkily, "here's a letter for
 
 230 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 you, from Carrlck. I walked to the post-office 
 and got the letters we shouldn't have had other- 
 wise till to-morrow morning. Read it, and tell 
 me what they say." 
 
 Nelly glanced over the contents of the long, 
 affectionate letter Kathleen and Nora had jointly 
 produced. 
 
 " They want us to go and stay with them for as 
 long as we can." 
 
 " That's lucky, for we can't go to Colnbrook 
 the deuce knows when." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Why not?" with increasing irritation, "be- 
 cause we should probably get the turn-out, if we 
 tried it ; that's why." 
 
 " The turn-out ! what for?" 
 
 "You must know it sooner or later, so now'sas 
 goad as any other time. I married you against 
 the governor's consent, and he's mad with me. 
 Nothing but birth or money — he hoped to get 
 both — would suit him in a wife for me, so when I 
 asked his consent, he refused, plump. However,
 
 NELLY CAREW. 231 
 
 I wasn't going to be put off for him or any one 
 else ; I'm not that sort of chap ! so I went on, 
 thinking he'd come round when he saw he couldn't 
 help himself. So, after our marriage, I wrote 
 again, saying I was sorry and all that sort of 
 thing, and hinting that a little tin would be ac- 
 ceptable. And now the old chap writes me off 
 a devil of a blowing-up and lets me know if I want 
 money I may go whistle for it. That's pleasant, 
 ain't it, rather?" Nelly was fairly bewildered. 
 
 " But, Erie, you never said a word about this 
 to papa — indeed, he understood your father had 
 given his consent. Did you not say so?" 
 
 " What the deuce does it signify now what I 
 said or didn't say ? I tell you he hasnt given his 
 consent, nor anything the least like it, and unless 
 your father can give us a helping hand, I've no 
 more notion how we're to get on, than I have of 
 how to climb over the moon. I'm in debt already, 
 and my allow^ance '11 be swallowed up before 
 it comes in, and if it wasn't, I'd like to know 
 how we could live on eight hundred a year ! I
 
 232 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 never could when I was alone — the old man's 
 paid my debts twice already, and I'm nearly as 
 deep as ever again, so what do you make of that 
 pleasant prospect, I should like to know ?" 
 
 He spoke as if the listener v/ere in some way 
 answerable for the state of affairs he laid before 
 her. 
 
 Nelly was too young, had too little knowledge 
 of the value of money, too little experience of 
 the hard necessities of daily life in a financial 
 point to take in the whole realities of the 
 situation. Still the sudden and violent change 
 of condition it revealed to her — yet more the 
 duplicity of her husband — shocked her into be- 
 wildered silence, and she sat with her cousin's 
 letter on her lap, the gleam of comfort it had 
 brought her blotted out, as well as even the 
 recollection of its existence. 
 
 " And what do you mean to do, Erie ?" she 
 inquired at last. 
 
 " Do ? why, we must go to the Moores at 
 once — we shan't be at the expense of lodging
 
 NELLY CAREW. 233 
 
 and living there, at all events, and you must try- 
 to get your father to help us with a few hun- 
 dreds in the way of a loan, till we've time to look 
 about us." 
 
 Nelly's heart sunk at the notion of the last 
 alternative — she knew who held the purse- 
 strings. 
 
 " Papa would help us, but all his money 
 matters are in Mrs. O'Dell's hands; he could 
 hardly get a hundred for himself if he wanted 
 it, unless she chose. When his affairs were em- 
 barrassed, she undertook to bring them round, I 
 believe, on condition of his not interfering, and 
 she succeeded. Heaven knows Jiow she did it!" 
 Nelly said, recalling some of the scenes the pro- 
 cess in question had brought before her. " And 
 ever since that she has been sole manager in the 
 house." 
 
 " And would she do nothing for us ? / found 
 her civil enough." 
 
 "If you knew her!" Nelly said, in a voice of 
 conviction there was no mistaking.
 
 2.34 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 "Ha !" Erie went on, while the expression in 
 the eyes and brow became condensed into a grim 
 savageness that Nelly shrunk before, " if I had 
 to deal with a woman that tried to come it over 
 me in that sort of way, I'd teach her the differ- 
 ence ! I'd crush the opposition out of her, and 
 her too, if she attempted it again. A man's an 
 idiot that ever gives in to a woman once the 
 courting days are over; he ought to let her know 
 then who's master. However, it's no use talk- 
 ing; write to the Moores by to-morrow's post, 
 and say well come directly. It's deuced lucky the 
 invitation comes just now. We can hang on 
 there for awhile, and see what's to be done after- 
 wards. I wish now I'd gone into the army ; I 
 could have sold my commission and lived on the 
 money till something turned up." 
 
 Nelly wrote as she was desired ; she had never 
 dreamt that the acceptance of an invitation to 
 that house would have been penned with the 
 shrinking sense of reluctance and humiliation she 
 felt in this case.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 235 
 
 The idea of making a mere convenience of her 
 friends' affectionate hospitality, the extreme un- 
 certainty as to the length to which her husband's 
 will or necessities might cause the visit to 
 extend, the sense of dependence on the charity, 
 as it were, of those on whom she had no claim 
 save that of good-will, joined to the requirement 
 she felt laid under to conceal, for very pride's 
 sake, the humiliating position in which her hus- 
 band's duplicity and recklessness had placed 
 them, formed food only too substantial for bitter 
 thoughts and darker anticipations. As to the 
 traits of character the occasion revealed, they 
 were not so absolutely new or unsuspected as 
 to startle, however they might harass and distress 
 her.
 
 236 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 MR. CAREW HAS AN INSPIRATION. 
 
 The open arms and cordial rejoicings with which 
 Nelly was greeted on her return to Carrick-na- 
 Moyle were very comforting, after the events of 
 the last few weeks. 
 
 With regard to her husband, she noticed that 
 though in all outward evidences of hospitality his 
 reception was of the kindest, there still was an 
 indefinable sense of restraint felt towards him by 
 the whole family. The impression he had left, 
 and which now revived to meet him, was evi- 
 dently one of mistrust ; a feeling that with him 
 they were treading on unequal and uncertain 
 ground, and in the very tenderness they evinced 
 towards herself, in the forbearance of all ques-
 
 NELLY CAREW. 237 
 
 tloning with regard to her domestic happiness, 
 she felt they guessed vaguely at the truth, and 
 greatly feared for her felicity. 
 
 However, to have their society to respite her 
 from the constant pressure of his, was a relief so 
 great, that she resolved to enjoy it while she 
 could. 
 
 Meantime she had before her eyes, widely 
 opened now by her own darker experience in 
 such matters, the spectacle of a domestic happi- 
 ness, of which, at first sight, she could hardly 
 have believed the elements existed. 
 
 "You'd hardly have thought it, maybe," Kath- 
 leen said to her one day, in the course of a long 
 conference, "but mamma married papa all for love. 
 I need hardly tell ye that she was the greatest 
 beauty in all the place — though she comes from 
 Limerick, where the article's not scarce — and 
 half the young men were dying in love of her, 
 and many's the ruction was got up among them 
 about her. Sure, when she went to balls and 
 gatherings, the people behind used to stand up
 
 238 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 on chairs and benches to see her dance, and 
 many's the song was made about her, and many's 
 the time her health was drank out of her shoe,^ 
 and there were a nobleman and a young man 
 that was heir to twenty thousand a year, after 
 her, and she wouldn't listen to one of them, but 
 no matter who would and who vv^ouldn't, she'd 
 have nobody but papa, who was eighteen years 
 older than she, and not much to look at, and 
 always quiet, and silent, and studious. And, 
 moreover, he was a poor man then, for his* 
 elder brother had the fortune, and did as little 
 for him as ever he could; and I can tell you 
 we had a pretty deal of pinching to live some- 
 times, up till the time when I was twelve or thir- 
 teen, when my uncle, who, luckily, had never 
 married, died, and papa got the fortune, though 
 my uncle, who was a queer body, tried to leave it 
 to an hospital. And up to this day mamma 
 
 * The author has known all these acts of devotion to be 
 shown in Ireland to a popular beauty.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 239 
 
 would lose a hand or foot to save him a finger 
 ache ; and for all his quiet undemonstrative way, 
 I believe if anything happened to her, he'd just 
 shut himself up in his study, and let himself die 
 there." 
 
 Poor Nelly ! that evening as she was dressing 
 for dinner, her husband came into the room, and, 
 regardless of the presence of her maid, began, as 
 was his custom, to comment freely on his enter- 
 tainers. C^ 
 
 " I say, Nelly, what a rum old chap that Moore 
 is! I can't make him out sometimes: — between 
 his silence, and the dry way he has of coming out 
 with things when he does speak, he makes one 
 feel uncomfortable, somehow; — one's not quite 
 clear what he's at. What the deuce made that 
 handsome woman marry him, I wonder, when 
 he'd no money ? What could any woman see in 
 him ? I can fancy a girl committing any folly for 
 a good-looking young fellow, whether he's tin or 
 not:" and he contemplated himself with infinite
 
 240 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 satisfaction in the cheval glass, " but a fellow like 
 that !" 
 
 Nelly's blood boiled with indignation to hear him 
 speak thus, — and before a servant, — of the man 
 on whose charity he might truly be said at that 
 moment to be living ! 
 
 " / can understand it," she exclaimed ; " he 
 loves her, and she feels his moral and intellectual 
 superiority, and can esteem and respect him ; she 
 knows he's a good and clever man, and a gentle- 
 man !" 
 
 Was it the slight stress Nelly almost uncon- 
 sciously laid on the last word that stung him ? 
 His brow darkened ominously, and he inquired 
 in an elevated voice — 
 
 " What do you mean by a gentleman ? He's 
 no better nor no worse than other gentlemen ! 
 I should like to know what fantastic notion you've 
 got in your head about gentlemen ! I can tell 
 you, we, in England, don't think much of your 
 Irish gentry. I'd like to show some of them 
 Colnbrook ! I'd like them to compare Carrick
 
 NELLY CAREW. 241 
 
 with it ! And 1 think the descendant of a peer 
 of the realm ought to know what a gentleman is 
 as well as you do !" 
 
 Mutterino; accordino^ to his usual custom when 
 displeased, without being able to find anyone to 
 take up the quarrel, he went down stairs, and 
 spent the rest of the evening, also, according to 
 custom on similar occasions, in what the Yankees 
 most expressively denominate " a solid pet." 
 
 In vain Mrs. Moore repeatedly addressed her- 
 self to him, with her most winning manner; in 
 vain Kathleen, the general peace-maker, tried her 
 gentle spiriting on him; his face never relaxed, 
 nor could he, by any endeavour, be induced to 
 take part in the conversation or amusements of 
 the party. 
 
 At last Mr. Moore, who had quietly been 
 watching Kathleen's efforts, with their result, 
 addressed himself to her, holding his pinch of snuff 
 in suspense the while. 
 
 " Kathleen, you remember what I told you 
 about your new puppy when you got it; not all the 
 
 VOL. I. 31
 
 242 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 petting in the world will do any good with it — a 
 sulky brute ! It's only a mongrel, half-bred thing. 
 The good blood of the mother don't agree with 
 the bull-dog nature of the father, and only makes 
 it worse. Take my advice and let it alone : no 
 one will ever get any profit out of that sort 
 of animal !" 
 
 Having delivered himself of this speech, Mr. 
 Moore took his pinch of snuff, brushed off the 
 stray particles that had fallen on his delicately 
 plaited jahot, and settled himself back in his arm 
 chair. The words were only heard by those for 
 w^hose ears they were intended. Kathleen, of 
 course, completely understood them; her com- 
 panion felt an uneasy sympathy with the puppy 
 described, which induced him to change his posi- 
 tion, and somewhat modify his conduct during the 
 rest of the evening. 
 
 When alone with Nelly, however, he avenged 
 himself for the restraint he had put upon himself. 
 
 " I say," he began, " I can't stand this much 
 longer."
 
 NELLY CAREW. 243 
 
 " You can't stand what?" 
 
 " Being in tliis d — d place, and among these 
 people." 
 
 " And for whose convenience are you here, 
 pray ?" Nelly inquired ; her stock of patience was 
 fast becoming exhausted. 
 
 " What do you mean by speaking in that way, 
 eh?" he exclaimed, reddening, and raising his 
 voice. " Are you to bully me too ? don't try it ; 
 don't think I'm to be put down by the sneers of a 
 set of bog-trotters ! I'd have you to know who 
 and what I am, — ay, and maybe I'll teach some 
 of you of what I'm capable before I've done with 
 you ! As to that old fellow, I think he's the 
 greatest old brute I ever met, and some fine day 
 I'll tell him so, — see if I don't ! And you, my 
 lady, I advise you to be giving me none of your airs 
 and graces ! / see you ! — and I tell you I'll 
 speak my mind out, whether you like it or whe- 
 ther you don't. I'd like to see the woman would 
 stop me !" 
 
 M 2
 
 244 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 As usual Nelly held her .tongue, and allowed 
 him to growl himself into silence. 
 
 She held her peace, but truly " it was pain and 
 grief" to her, and every day the difficulty of pre- 
 serving this hardly-imposed self-control grew 
 greater. Yet she struggled with herself; for she 
 knew that if she once allowed herself to speak, 
 she would not be able to measure her words ; she 
 knew she would be driven into using expressions 
 that, once spoken, could never be recalled: — ex- 
 pressions that must place between herself and her 
 husband such a breach, as no time or circum- 
 stances could ever heal, or obliterate the recol- 
 lection of. 
 
 She was glad, however, that she had once more 
 proved successful, when, after a long pause, Mr. 
 Carew spoke again in a less brutal tone. 
 
 " I say, I've thought of something ! As to 
 going on in this way I can't and won't do it. So 
 I've a mind to leave you here, and run over to 
 Colnbrook, and see if I can't come to some terms 
 with the old man, I know the way to manage
 
 NELLY CAREW. 245 
 
 him, and between coaxing and bullying, I think 
 he'll give in at last. I won't announce myself — 
 I'll burst in on him and take him by surprise. Be- 
 sides, Madge will do anything I tell her, and the 
 governor '11 do most things she tells him ! — A jolly 
 good notion ! You must say here I'm suddenly 
 called away home on business, and wiU soon be 
 back — do you mind ? And say the same if you 
 write to Coolmore. I'll be off the day after to- 
 morrow." 
 
 And off he went, prodigiously to the relief of 
 the whole household, his wife standing foremost 
 on the list of the reprieved.
 
 246 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 MR. CAREW, SENIOR, RELENTS. 
 
 A FEW days later Nelly received a letter addressed 
 in a very bad hand, but bearing a vast seal, with 
 elaborate armorial bearings. 
 
 " Hurrah ! hurrah !" were the first words that 
 greeted her eyes, " all right my dearest Nelly I 
 came down upon the old man when he least 
 expected it and though he was very stiff at first 
 I set my sister at him and did the penitant myself 
 and so after awhile he came round a little and 
 though he is not very gracious yet I've got all I 
 wanted out of him so I don't care. I persivaded 
 him you came of a wonderful family and mind 
 you keep that up and don't be too gracious
 
 NELLY CAREW. 247 
 
 either it won't do to be letting oneself down to 
 much, he'll respect you all the more if you carry 
 your head pretty high. I shall be with you in 
 about a week I hope to bring you back here 
 where we are to live for the present till the 
 governor has decided what he means to do for us. 
 I'll write again in a day or two. I inclose a line 
 from Madge. 
 
 " Ever your most affectionate husband 
 
 " Erle Wyndham Oarew." 
 
 The letter enclosed was of a different stamp 
 .and the writing delicate and somewhat uncertain, 
 as if the hand that traced it was weak and tremu- 
 lous. Magdalen Carew, Nelly knew, was de- 
 formed. 
 
 " My dearest Sister," Nelly was almost startled 
 to see it commence, " I am looking forward with 
 the utmost impatience to welcome you to Coin- 
 brook. It has been to me a source of the pro- 
 foundest regret that the occasion should have
 
 248 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 been so long delayed, but dear Erie, unfortunately, 
 acted injudiciously with papa from the first about 
 your marriage, and so made a bad impression at 
 the outset. 
 
 " However, all that, I trust, is now at an end, 
 and I know, dearest Nelly, you will consider 
 papa's feelings, and certain little prejudices he 
 may have, and will endeavour to induce Erie to 
 have more regard for them than he is always 
 disposed to show, ^^niuch may be done by a 
 Jittle mutual indulgence and forbearance ! On 
 my part nothing shall be wanting, you may be 
 quite sure, to establish a good understanding, and 
 to get papa to make allowance for any little wilful- 
 ness or extravagance men of Erie's age are so apt 
 to give way to. 
 
 " And now, dearest sister, you must allow me 
 to act a sister's part, and, as I know that foolish 
 boy, Erie, has run matters very close in a financial 
 point of view, and that doubtless you will have 
 many little expenses in leaving Ireland, I, who 
 have really no occasion for a large portion of my
 
 NELLY CAREW. 249 
 
 allowance, take the privilege of our close relati(jn- 
 ship to enclose you a little oiFering, which you 
 must accept with the hearty good wishes and 
 warm attachment of your most affectionate sister, 
 
 " Maggie. 
 " Don't say anything of this to either papa or 
 Erie, please ; it is a little matter between you and 
 me." 
 
 Enclosed was a fifty-pound note. 
 
 Nelly had borne all the brother's brutality with 
 dry eyes, but the sister's words caused to flow 
 such tears as she had rarely had occasion to shed ; 
 tlie reunion with her husband, too, seemed now 
 far less terrible when she could anticipate com- 
 panionship with one who could thus open her 
 arms and heart to her while yet a stranger. 
 
 Mr. Carew had occasionally spoken to her of 
 his sister; but it had been merely incidentally, 
 and as connected with other topics, more espe- 
 cially the all-engrossing one of himself. Till Nelly 
 received this letter, then, Magdalen Carew had 
 
 M 5
 
 250 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 had for her no distinct character or identity, and^ 
 truth to tell, the one specimen of the family she 
 was acquainted with had, hitherto, inspired in her 
 very little interest concerning the other mem- 
 bers. 
 
 But, alas ! Nelly's experience of life, young as 
 she was, had grafted on her naturally frank and 
 trusting nature a dash of mistrust of herself and 
 others, and when the first burst of gratitude and 
 satisfaction was over, a momentary cloud over- 
 shadowed her. 
 
 " Perhaps," she thought, " when she knows me 
 better she will not feel thus towards me. Her 
 brother — who, that saw him as he appeared when 
 we first met, could have guessed his real nature ? 
 Alas! how is any one to be trusted!" Again, 
 however, her nobler instincts prevailed, and with 
 the thought of Magdalen came hope and com- 
 fort. 
 
 In little more than a week Erie Carew re- 
 turned to Carrick. He came with a triumphant, 
 thoroughly self-satisfied air, as of one who is
 
 NELLY CAREW. 251 
 
 conscious of having done great things, and who 
 wishes to testify to those around him that he feels 
 himself in no way indebted to them, or in the 
 slightest need of their 'good offices or approbation, 
 and he talked incessantly of the splendours of 
 Colnbrook. In some respects, for very shame's 
 sake, it was a rehef to Nelly when the period of 
 their departure was fixed. 
 
 At last, after some two months' sojourn at 
 Carrick, they left its hospitable roof, entreated — 
 it may well be guessed for Avhose sake — to return 
 whenever and for as long as they could. 
 
 " They won't catch me there again in a hurry, 
 I can tell them," was Mr. Carew's grateful re- 
 mark, as the carriage drove off. A bitter retort 
 was rising to Nelly's lips, but she thought of 
 Magdalen and kept silence. 
 
 They were to spend a few days at Coolmore 
 before leaving Ireland, and thither they proceeded 
 at once. As they neared the house, Nelly's eyes I 
 were anxiously on the look-out for Lorry ; but in
 
 252 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 vain ; a stranger came forward to show the pos- 
 tillion the way to the stables. 
 
 " Where is Lorry M'c Swiggan?" Nelly hastily 
 inquired. 
 
 "Lorry's been gone, ma'am, tliis two months 
 an' betther." 
 
 " Gone! where to ?" 
 
 " Well, I don't rightly know, ma'am ; I think 
 he's left these parts." 
 
 Grief and indignation so filled Nelly's heart, 
 that, knowing well whose deed this was, she 
 could hardly make up her mind to meet her step- 
 mother with even an appearance of amenity ; it 
 was a great relief to her, therefore, when her 
 father appeared alone, and informed her that she 
 was gone out and would not be in much before 
 the dinner hour. To him no less than to Nelly 
 herself, this absence was evidently a respite. 
 
 Richard O'Dell was full of cordial rejoicings 
 at her return, and it was not till she spoke of 
 Lorry that his gaiety slackened. 
 
 " Why," he said, with considerable embarrass-
 
 NELLY CAREW. 253 
 
 ment, in answer to Nelly's inquiries, " you see he 
 and your mother couldn't hit it oflf. / never 
 should have parted with him, but then I had 
 known him since I was a boy, and was up to his 
 oddities. The fact is, like all old servants, he 
 was a little spoiled, I suppose, and not very 
 patient of reproof." 
 
 " But where is he gone to ? what means has 
 he of living?" 
 
 "Oh, he's got a very good place with Tom 
 M'cGuire, w^ho bought the Phooka and Molly 
 Bawn, and who's now got Lorry's darling, the 
 Posy. I believe it was that decided Lorry to 
 enter his service, for he was very high and 
 mighty about it at first, on account of his not 
 being a raal gentleman, and, indeed, I suspect 
 M'cGuire rather bought the Posy as a bribe to 
 him, for though she's old now, and worn to a 
 thread with pure fretfulness and viciousness, the 
 kicking devil in her is as lively as ever, and no 
 one can handle her, except Lorry ; and I believe 
 she'll break his old bones some day. I'll send
 
 254 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 word to him to come and see you ; he made me 
 promise I would." 
 
 This was some comfort to Nelly, and when she 
 went to her room she wrote a little note to the 
 old servant, to be conveyed with her father's 
 message ; both were carried by the new groom, 
 who, as an especial protege of Mrs. O"*© ell, had 
 been supposed to know nothing of Lorry's move- 
 ments since his ignominious expulsion by his 
 aggrieved mistress. 
 
 Much too soon for the comfort of anybody, 
 Mrs. O'Dell made her appearance. 
 
 She greeted Nelly as if they had met the day 
 before, and her former graciousness to Mr. Carew 
 now resolved itself into the presenting of her 
 finger tips. She had got from him all she 
 wanted, and knew she was never likely to get 
 anything more, so where was the use of further 
 civility ? 
 
 The dinner passed off heavily, and yet was 
 over all too soon for Nelly, who looked forward
 
 NELLY CAREW. 255 
 
 with dread to the tete-a-tete with her stepmother 
 that was to ensue. 
 
 "Oh, by-the-by !" that lady said, when she 
 and Nelly got to the drawing-room, "there's a 
 letter for you from Victor Dillon. It came some 
 time ago, but I forgot to send it at first, and 
 then I thought it would keep till you came. It 
 can't be of any mighty importance noicT She 
 gave her little sneering laugh as she handed 
 Nelly the letter, and watched her as with a hand 
 whose trembling she could not control, she tore 
 it open. It was dated more than a month back, 
 and all this time Nelly had been wondering why 
 Victor had left unanswered the letter she had 
 written him as soon after her marriage as she 
 could compose herself to the task. To escape 
 the observation she felt herself undergoing, she 
 took it to the window, and, protected from the 
 keen eyes by its recess, read the letter through. 
 
 It was a relief to her when she came to the 
 conclusion. There was not a word of aught but 
 comfort, encouragement, and profound and tender
 
 256 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 sympathy in it. Her letter had, almost unin- 
 tentionally, on her part, enlightened him as to 
 the feelings with which she had entered on this 
 marriage, and the pressure from without that 
 had driven her into it. She little guessed what 
 it had cost Victor to write those lines, at once so. 
 calm and so tender, so full of her present and 
 future, so silent as regarded his own. Later she 
 knew it all. 
 
 Enclosed within it was a warm little note from 
 his mother, who was with him in Paris. These 
 letters were a comfort to her. Yet, ah, what 
 might have been ! what never, never could be
 
 NELLY CAREW. 257 
 
 CHAPTEK XXIY. 
 
 THE RECEPTION AT COLNBROOK ABBEY. 
 
 There was so little to tempt the Carews to 
 prolong their stay at Coolmore, that they paid 
 but a brief visit there, and shortly proceeded to 
 Colnbrook. 
 
 Notwithstanding her husband's pompous de- 
 scriptions of the place, Nelly's impressions on 
 arriving w^ere those of wonder and delight. 
 
 Nothing at all to compare with it had she ever 
 before seen. The vast park, with its splendid 
 trees, beneath which herds of deer were grazing ; 
 the river running through it, with its ornament&l 
 bridges and floating swans; the magnificent pile 
 of building, with its terrace, its hanging gardens, 
 its spreading lawns, formed an ensemble that
 
 258 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 seemed to her like the realization of a fairy tale, 
 and for the first time since her marriage, she felt 
 that she had gained smnething by it. To have 
 such a home, to be, at some future period, mis- 
 tress of such a domain, were advantages that 
 certainly the most disinterested could hardly view 
 with indifference ; and though Nelly felt that had 
 these inducements alone been held out to her 
 to win her consent to such a marriage, she would, 
 even after seeing the place, have regarded them 
 as all insufficient ; still, now that the die was 
 cast, she considered she might legitimately draw 
 from the material advantages of her position what 
 comfort she could. 
 
 The complacency, too, which her undisguised 
 admiration of all around her awakened in her 
 husband, rendered him, for the time being, un- 
 usually amiable, and altogether the poor child's 
 first impression at the sight of her new home was 
 the pleasantest she had conceived since that fatal 
 night when her stepmother had announced to her 
 the destiny fixed for her by her will.
 
 NELLY CAREW. 259 
 
 Still her heart beat high with apprehension as 
 the carriage drew near the house, and the dreaded 
 moment of her introduction to the father-in-law, 
 to whom she knew her advent into the family 
 was so little welcome, became imminent. 
 
 Presently the wheels rattled on the pavement 
 of the broad court, a loud bell sounded, and the 
 hollow, deep-mouthed baying of a great hound, 
 and in another moment they drew up before the 
 grand entrance, where on the steps were ranged 
 a bevy of servants in full-dress livery, headed by 
 a stately major-domo in black, whom Nelly at 
 first sight conceived to be Mr. Carew senior, in 
 propria persona, and whom she accordingly re- 
 garded with due reverence. 
 
 As, however, her husband only nodded to the 
 imposing individual in question, and that he 
 responded by a profound bow, she was saved from 
 any evidence of the feeling with which he had 
 inspired her; and when the real Simon Pure 
 made his appearance, on their entering the hall.
 
 260 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 she was prepared to respond to such greeting as 
 he might be disposed to accord her. 
 
 This was of the stateliest, meant to be gracious, 
 and to do equal honour to the present possessor 
 and to the future master and mistress of Coin- 
 brook Abbey, situate in the county of Kent, 
 founded by King Henry VII., in the year of our 
 Lord 1498. Such demeanour, however, sat 
 strangely on the person of the somewhile Thomas 
 Wilkins, the name which instantly presented 
 to Nelly's recollection at sight of her father-in- 
 law, a gentleman whose extensive proportions 
 were placed upon legs too small and short to 
 support them and the large head that surmounted 
 all, a head whose contracted brow, vast jaw, and 
 stern stolidity of expression were little calculated 
 to call forth strong sentiments of sympathy or 
 confidence. 
 
 However, Nelly meekly bent her head to re- 
 ceive the touch of Mr. Carew's lips on her brow, 
 and accepted the arm he offered to lead her 
 into the house, feeling grateful that he should
 
 NELLY CAREW. 261 
 
 show her so much consideration, after the bitter 
 disappointment she had, however unwillingly, 
 been the cause of to him. She did not know how 
 much she was indebted for the nature of her 
 reception to the extremely highly-coloured narra- 
 tive given by her husband of the antiquity and 
 ancient splendour of her family and connections. 
 
 At the door of the room to which Mr. Carew 
 led Nelly (he reserved her introduction to the 
 state apartments for the present, that all the 
 magnificence of the mansion might not be ex- 
 hausted at the first view) Magdalen met them. 
 Nelly was startled at her appearance. With the 
 idea of deformity in any human being we are apt 
 to associate something unnatural and repulsive, at 
 all events perpetually distressing to the eye and 
 mind. 
 
 Such an impression had Nelly conceived of her 
 sister-in-law, and it was at once with pleasure and 
 astonishment that the reality greeted her ; a crea- 
 ture of almost childish, or rather fairy proportions, 
 slight, frail, delicate, as a flower that has long
 
 262 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 been shut out from its due portion of light and 
 air, yet with an etherial beauty in large, liquid, 
 heavenly-blue eyes, transparent complexion, and 
 golden hair, that must strike with interest and 
 admiration the most indifferent. The defect in 
 her figure, dressed as she always was attired, in 
 loose robes, with little or no attempt at defining 
 the shape, was barely perceptible, and as the 
 sweet, loving face, with tears swimming in the 
 eyes, and a trembling of the mouth that prevented 
 the expression of the welcome the whole coun- 
 tenance spoke so eloquently, was lifted to Nelly's, 
 she clasped the fragile little figure to her breast 
 with strong and real affection, and trembled with 
 sincere inquietude when she felt against her own 
 the tumultuous, heavy throbbings of the heart 
 and noted the agitated breathing that for some 
 moments kept her still silent. 
 
 "Maggie!" (Nelly remarked that her father 
 pronounced the name with the g's soft) " lie 
 down at once; your sister-in-law will excuse 
 you," and with a tenderness Nelly could not have
 
 NELLY CAREW. 263 
 
 conceived existed in all his nature, Mr. Carew 
 supported his daughter to the sofa it was but too 
 evident was her chief resting-place, arranged its 
 large pillows, and placed the little panting form 
 on them in the easiest attitude. 
 
 Even before she could speak, Maggie looked 
 round to Nelly as she sat beside her, smiled a 
 beaming smile, and held out to her a little hand, 
 pearly white, with rosy palm and blue veins 
 clearly traced through the transparent skin. 
 
 " Dear Nelly, how lovely you are !" were the 
 first words she uttered, when she had recovered 
 her voice. Nelly blushed with pleasure; never 
 had a compliment to her beauty sounded so plea- 
 santly in her ears. 
 
 " So are you lovely, dear !" she said, kissing the 
 hand she held in hers. 
 
 "If O Nelly!" 
 
 " Yes you are, old ' girl," Erie broke in. 
 " You've got a devilish pretty face, I can tell 
 you !" 
 
 The fact, now that it was brought before his
 
 264 NELLY CAlvEW. 
 
 notice, seemed to strike him for the first time, 
 and he contemplated with attention the fairy face 
 that, still tinted with emotion, lay like a pink 
 wild rose on the white, lace-trimmed pillow. 
 
 " Must I believe," Magdalen said, smiling 
 archly, "in the legend of the blarney-stone? I 
 think you have been in that neighbourhood in 
 your wedding-trip, haven't you ?" 
 
 After a little more conversation, the elder Mr. 
 Carew rose — 
 
 " We must not tire you, Maggie," he said, 
 " and Ellen will, no doubt, be glad to rest in her 
 room till dinner time. Shall I ring the bell for 
 your maid to conduct her there ?" 
 
 "No," Maggie said, looking up pleadingly, 
 " she'll stay with me a wee bit longer ; I'll send 
 her away all in good time ! " 
 
 " Well, Erie and I may go, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yes, if you like. You see," she said, when 
 they were gone, "how everybody in this house 
 does as I desire them ; so must you." 
 
 " I'm quite ready to swear allegiance."
 
 NELLY CAREW. 265 
 
 " Many people pity me, but really if they only 
 knew how their compassion was thrown away! 
 Thank God, I am, I verily believe, one of the 
 happiest creatures that ever lived. If I'm weak, 
 and not able to do like others, I don't suffer much 
 actual pain, and everybody is ready to do for me 
 more than I should care to do for myself. Every- 
 body is tender and considerate for me ; everybody, 
 knowing how little there can be in my own life or 
 prospects to cajl for much speculation or interest 
 in my thoug'hts, confides in me, and I have a 
 thousand sources of pleasure and enjoyment lying 
 round me that busy, strong, active people, who 
 are always hurrying on to to-morrow, never stop 
 to note. But here I am, egotistical as usual ! I 
 do hope, though, it's not altogether selfishness ; 
 though spoiling and idleness do make people 
 selfish ; but partly the joy and gratitude with 
 which all the great blessings I possess constantly 
 fill me ! And now I've got you, I shall be so 
 much happier still. I hope so much you'll love 
 me!" 
 
 VOL. L N
 
 266 NELLY CAREW. 
 
 " Love you ? of course, I love you now — dearly ! 
 I think you're about the most loveable creature I 
 ever met !" 
 
 " Just what I think of you ; how lucky ! How 
 old are you, Nelly ? Nearly about my own age, 
 I should think." 
 
 "I was seventeen the end of last month." 
 
 " Only that? Why you are so tall and formed! 
 quite a woman grown. I'm older — going on to 
 twenty. Dear ! how pretty you are ! I suppose 
 it's wrong — maybe it is, maybe it isn't — but I do 
 love people to be pretty ! and when they are I 
 can't help telling them so. I don't think it makes 
 them vain ; it's only I that do so, and one person's 
 opinion can't make much difference either way 
 Besides, they like it and so do I; and you'll 
 allow it's a cheap way of making two people 
 happy. Oh, what pleasant days we shall spend 
 before the cold weather comes! I can't walk 
 beyond the garden, but I've got a pony to ride 
 and a pony-chair that holds two ; and you and I 
 will go rambling about together, when you've
 
 NELLY CAREW. 267 
 
 nothing better to do. But, of course, you'll regu- 
 late your own days exactly as you like, and 
 naturally Erie will want you to ride, and drive, 
 and walk with him. And now I won't keep you 
 here any longer with my prating. If you'll ring 
 that bell, my maid will show you your rooms." 
 
 END OF VOL. I,
 
 F. Shoberl, Printer, 37, Dean Street, Soho. W 
 
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