II E> RAHY 
 
 OF THE 
 UN I VER.5ITY 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 DHE6t 
 
 V.I
 
 TRIED IN THE FIEE. 
 
 gt %nh. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. MACKENZIE DANIELS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "MY 8ISTEE MINNIE," "THE OLD MAID OF 
 
 THE FAMILY," " OUR GUARDIAN, " "RUTH EAENLEY," 
 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 IN THEEE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 THOMAS CATJTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 
 
 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. 
 1860.
 
 8*3 
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 n It was in Miss Jane's private room that the tea- 
 party I am about to describe took place. 
 
 Miss Jane (she had of course a surname, but 
 she was never called by it) was the English 
 governess of a young French lady, from the 
 extreme south, who, for the sake of studying 
 singing under one of the first masters, and 
 acquiring the Parisian accent, was boarding for 
 awhile with the above named teacher, in a 
 
 VOL. I. / fi 
 
 i
 
 2 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 school of some reputation in the Faubourg St- 
 Honore. 
 
 There were at that time about forty-five 
 French, and fifteen English pupils in the estab- 
 lishment ; a few of the last having, like Miss 
 Jane, private rooms, and being, what we call in 
 England, " parlour boarders." 
 
 Of course there was a great deal of clanship 
 amongst these fair daughters of Albion, and 
 much congregating together after school hours, 
 in one or other of the pretty little private rooms 
 just mentioned, where in winter they boiled 
 water for tea (just to remind them of dear 
 England) over their cheerful wood fires, or 
 roasted chesnuts in the ashes, or simply formed 
 a circle (when purses were low) round the genial 
 blaze, toasting their cold feet, and talking that 
 species of nonsense which only school girls can 
 talk. 
 
 Miss Jane had only been a few months in the 
 school, but she had become an immense favourite
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 3 
 
 with all the English pupils, partly because she 
 really was a particularly nice little woman, and 
 partly because the English governess of the es- 
 tablishment had made herself extremely obnoxious 
 by forming a friendship with the under French 
 teacher, and even occasionally joining with this 
 last-named individual in ridiculing certain En- 
 glish customs and manners, which the fifteen 
 representatives of Great Britain thought proper 
 to uphold with all the warmth and energy of 
 their respective dispositions. 
 
 Now Miss Jane was English to the very back-. 
 bone; and as her salary was liberal (she had 
 lived for nine years in the same family), it pleased 
 her to give frequent tea parties to her young 
 countrywomen, though even amongst these she 
 had her favourites, and always arrogated to her- 
 self the privilege of inviting and excluding 
 whom she chose. 
 
 On the present occasion the party was a 
 mixed one, as, out of compliment to her own 
 
 B 2
 
 4 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 pupil (Valerie Joeelyn), she had made room for 
 two or three little French girls, who were sub- 
 dued into silence by the sight of the large piles 
 of thin bread and butter (English fashion), and 
 the abundance of cakes and other dainties, with 
 which Miss Jane had loaded her guest table* 
 and was distributing with generous hand amongst 
 her guests. 
 
 It was summer-time now, and it wanted but 
 a fortnight to the grand breaking-up and public 
 distribution of prizes ; that bright goal to which 
 the French school-girl's eye is directed through- 
 out all the year that precedes it. 
 
 The whole school, with one or two exceptions, 
 had been working very hard, and great excite- 
 ment prevailed as to the probable rewards their 
 laudable exertions would meet. The eldest of 
 Miss Jane's guests, Gertrude Scott, had been 
 amongst the most indefatigable of the youthful 
 students ; and her dark eye lighted up with an- 
 ticipated triumph as her companions prophesied,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 5 
 
 over their excellent tea and bread and butter, 
 that she would carry off at least a dozen prizes. 
 
 " But, after all," said Norah Kennedy, a wild 
 Irish girl of eccentric and unpopular character. 
 " what good is it to do you in your future life, 
 Gertrude ? You have no chance of having to 
 go out as governess, and yet for nine or ten 
 months you have been risking a spinal com- 
 plaint, and the loss of those bright eyes of 
 yours, in the acquirement of knowledge, that a 
 year or two at home will cause you entirely to 
 forget. The very thought of those weary desks, 
 at which so many of you sit from morning till 
 night, makes my brain spin round. Isn't it 
 stupid of them, Nelly ?" 
 
 This was addressed to a fair and rather pen- 
 si ve-lookins; sirl, whose chair was next to 
 Norah's, and who replied with a smile that 
 greatly beautified her face : — " Oh ! you know 
 I am so constitutionally lazy, that I shall be 
 quite sure to agree with you. Yes ; I think
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 all this overwork of hands and brains stupid in 
 the extreme." 
 
 " And yet," said Gertrude Scott, without, 
 however, appearing very much interested in the 
 matter, " I know nobody who has w 7 orked 
 harder at oil painting, for the last six months, 
 than Ellen Clavering ; and work is work, 
 whether mechanical or mental." 
 
 Nelly was about to reply, when Miss Jane, 
 who loved her well enough to assume the 
 privilege of speaking the truth, said for her, 
 
 "Nelly Clavering has been working for a 
 very important object, of which, indeed, she 
 makes no secret ; only you, Gertrude, have been 
 so absorbed in your own labours, that you have 
 paid no attention to the gossip around you. 
 Don't you remember that this demure young 
 friend of ours obtained the first prize for oil 
 painting at the last concours ; and that con- 
 sequently, if she is first again, the prize of 
 honour will be awarded to her."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 7 
 
 " And why is she so anxious for that ? I 
 fancied Nelly boasted of having no ambition." 
 
 " Oh ! how awfully slow you all are 1" 
 said the Irish girl, with an impatient gesture. 
 " Nelly, my dear, why don't you explain at once 
 that you have a fancy for being crowned with 
 white roses, in the presence of two or three 
 hundred spectators, who will be sure to whisper 
 as you walk down the long gallery, ' O/i, la belle 
 Anglaise, lajolie blonde /' What is six months 
 of hard painting, to secure such a magnificent 
 reward as this ?" 
 
 "You are detestably satirical, Norah," re- 
 plied the pretty Nelly, with a half offended 
 look, " and I shall not take the trouble to justify 
 myself." 
 
 " You need not," said the other, with a smile 
 that was by no means mirthful, although it ex- 
 pressed perfect good temper ; "for even if you 
 lost somewhat of the public esteem and admi- 
 ration, Nelly, you could well afford to do so.
 
 8 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 We all join in spoiling you — all, at least, who* 
 have leisure for such idle pastime." 
 
 " Pray, exclude me from the list of Miss 
 Clavering's blind admirers and devotees," ex- 
 claimed a handsome, aristocratic-looking young 
 lady, seated : at Miss Jane's right hand. " I 
 daresay it is a proof of my bad taste, but I 
 never could discover any attraction in popular 
 idols." 
 
 Nelly coloured to the roots of her flowing 
 ringlets ; and Miss Jane, with a slight frown on 
 her kind face, turned to the last speaker. 
 
 1 'You are severe upon yourself, rather than 
 upon poor Nelly, Katherine ; for I am sure you 
 would be the last in the world to refuse to ac- 
 knowledge merit, when you had really dis- 
 covered it.'* 
 
 Katherine Wilmot bent her proud head a 
 little lower as she replied — " Perhaps you are 
 right, Miss Jane ; but I must use my own eyes 
 in discovering it, and not those of other people."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 9 
 
 " Certainly, my dear, that is but fair ; but 
 now that you are so soon to part — it may be for 
 ever in this world — I should so like to see you 
 and Nelly rather better friends." 
 
 " I am sure I wish no ill to Miss 01avering,' > 
 began Catherine, speaking in a cold, proud tone, 
 and curling her thin, but perfectly outlined lip, 
 when Nelly (with tears suddenly dimming her 
 bright blue eyes) sprang up and seized her op- 
 ponent's hand. 
 
 11 For Miss Jane's sake, Katie, let us be 
 friends, — at least, for to-night. You know / 
 have never wished to quarrel with you. and, to 
 this hour, I am entirely ignorant of the origin 
 of your dislike to rne. Come, I won't ask you 
 to kiss me ; but, at any rate, shake hands." 
 
 Miss Wilmot, though rather liking scenes in 
 general, especially if she happened to be herself 
 the heroine of them, chose to express unbounded 
 abhorrence of such vulgarities on the present 
 occasion ; and, adding that she was as anxious
 
 10 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 as Miss Clavering to oblige their mutual friend 
 and hostess, she suffered her cold hand to re- 
 main for a moment in Nelly's warm one, and 
 then, leaving the tea-table which was about to 
 be cleared, walked to the window, and appeared 
 to be amusing herself with the little French 
 girls. 
 
 " You are looking thoughtful, Nelly," said 
 her Irish friend, at a later hour, when some of 
 the party had gone away to the evening classes, 
 and the rest were lounging idly about the room. 
 " Is it Mordecai, sitting in the king's gats, that 
 robs you of your peace of mind ? " 
 
 " If you are alluding to Katie Wilmot, I cer- 
 tainly was thinking of her just then, and won- 
 dering what I can possibly have done to inspire 
 her aversion." 
 
 " Ah, Nelly, you are a very short-sighted 
 mortal, but I am not going to lend you my spec- 
 tacles for such an ignoble use as in this case you 
 would put them to. It does not matter one bit
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 11 
 
 why this proud, narrow-minded girl dislikes 
 you ; but it does matter a great deal that you 
 fret over it." 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " Because it proves to me the existence of a 
 shade iu your character which I have long sus- 
 pected — a yearning for universal love and admi- 
 ration, and an incapacity for being satisfied with 
 the hearts that really do belong to you, so long 
 as you discover a single one that does not.'' 
 
 " I am afraid there is some truth in what you 
 say, Norah ; but I can't help it if it is, can I ?" 
 
 u For pity's sake don't look as if you expected 
 an answer to such an absurd question, Nelly. Is 
 mine a brain to reason about the freedom and 
 the capacities of the human will ? " 
 
 " I can't tell. You are very clever, Norah, 
 and you always seem to me to know every- 
 thing." 
 
 " Silly child ! But, to return to our original 
 discussion, I really am afraid that this craving of
 
 12 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 yours for more than your due share of love and 
 admiration, will greatly mar the happiness of 
 your future life." 
 
 " You think, then, that I shall find it difficult 
 to obtain all that I seek ?" 
 
 " No ; my thought is this, Nelly — that the 
 very seeking, ardently and passionately as you 
 will set about it, will disturb your peace, and 
 create a continual state of excitement which 
 will be terribly detrimental to your happi- 
 ness." 
 
 "Now please to tell me, Norah, why that 
 which you always say is absolutely essential to 
 your happiness, should be destructive of mine. 
 Your brain can surely reason thus far." 
 
 " It is because we are such entirely opposite 
 characters. Did I not see in you the very anti- 
 podes of myself, I should not love you as I do, 
 Nelly." 
 
 " Lo've, love, — who is talking of love?" said 
 Miss Jane, coming suddenly from the window,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 13 
 
 where, by the waning light, she had been 
 teaching Kate Wilmot a different stitch in em- 
 broidery. " I really think, Norah Kennedy, 
 you have a great deal to answer for in encourag- 
 ing the romantic propensities of this foolish 
 Nelly." 
 
 " My conscience acquits me of any such im- 
 prudence, Miss Jane," replied Norah, a little 
 stifflv, for she was vexed that her tete-a-tete 
 with the only girl in the school to whom she 
 had really attached herself, should be thus un- 
 ceremoniously interrupted. " We were not * 
 speaking of the sort of love to which you 
 allude." 
 
 " It is a wonder, then," exclaimed Miss Wil- 
 mot, sarcastically, " for everybody knows that 
 you and Ellen Clavering spend the greater 
 part of your time in dreaming of some imagi- 
 nary and radiant future, in which you are to 
 distinguish yourselves, and enjoy an amount of 
 happiness that no heroines ever yet attained to."
 
 14 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 Norah was on the point of replying angrily 
 (for she had no lack of hot Irish blood in her 
 veins), when Miss Jane came in between these 
 opposing spirits like the gentle peace-maker that 
 she always was. 
 
 " Well really, Katie, if we talk of dreaming 
 about the future, or castle-building, which is all 
 the same, I think we must admit that it is a 
 weakness to which every young girl is peculiarly 
 liable. Were a fortune-teller suddenly to appear 
 amongst us, I scarcely know which of you all 
 would be the most anxious to test her skill.' ' 
 
 Katherine curled her lip, and feigned to be 
 deeply interested in her embroidery. 
 
 "I should like, indeed, just to know which of 
 the present party will be married first/' said 
 Nelly Clavering, whose good temper was still 
 proof against her adversary's sneering. 
 
 " Oh, you, you — I would wager anything it 
 will be you," exclaimed three or four voices at 
 once; while Gertrude Scott looked up quietly
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 15 
 
 from a French composition she was revising, 
 and observed, quaintly, — 
 
 " I don't care who it is, so long as it is not 
 me. 
 
 " Oh, you, Gertrude, are booked for a blue 
 stocking," replied Miss Jane, patting the young 
 student's head affectionately ; " or, if ever you 
 marry at all, it must be a schoolmaster, who 
 will sympathize heart and soul with you in your 
 wonderful book lore." 
 
 " And, of course, you must never have chil- 
 dren," continued another girl, who was jealous of 
 Gertrude's success. " The poor little creatures 
 would be left to run naked, and to grow up into 
 men and women as they could." 
 
 " Perhaps not," remarked Gertrude, with un- 
 ruffled countenance, " but it is not likely that 
 I shall ever marry. We are a large family at 
 home, and there will be no fortune for any of 
 
 us." 
 
 " And I am still more likely to pass through
 
 16 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 life alone," said Norah Kennedy ; and no one 
 attempted (not even Nelly) to refute her asser- 
 tion. Miss Jane remarked, however — 
 
 " Old maidism is not such a pitiable state as 
 you young ladies, just entering life, may imagine. 
 I can assure you that I myself, for example, am 
 perfectly contented with the lot that has been 
 assigned me." 
 
 " But you are not an old maid yet, dear Miss 
 Jane," said her own pupil, who w 7 as devotedly 
 attached to her ; " and you know very well you 
 might have been married long ago, had you 
 only—" 
 
 " Hush, hush, Valerie," replied her now 
 blushing and embarrassed friend, laying her soft 
 white hand on the speaker's lips, u that ques- 
 tion, remember, is not for discussion here." 
 
 It seemed a trifling thing, and none of the 
 English girls understood why it should be so, 
 but from the moment Valerie Jocelyn had made 
 this evidently forbidden allusion to some unre-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 17 
 
 vealed secret in the life of her gentle governess, 
 Miss Jane's spirits flagged, and more than once 
 tears were detected in her kind eyes, as she tried 
 to rally and entertain her guests as before. 
 
 They had all good feeling enough to refrain 
 from commenting on the change, but the even- 
 ing was spoiled ; and, after thanking their liberal 
 hostess, and wishing her an affectionate good 
 night, they took their leave with one accord, and 
 retired to their respective sleeping apartments. 
 
 \ol. I. c
 
 18 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 There had been an incessant hum of youthful 
 voices in the salle de dessin throughout the 
 whole day, for nearly all the girls who learnt 
 drawing had something to finish for exhibition 
 at the approaching concours ; but the evening 
 had now arrived, and only one untiring worker 
 remained standing before an immense easel, 
 putting the last touches to an elaborate oil 
 painting, which bore tokens of very careful 
 copying, if of nothing more. 
 
 The poor girl looked tired and pale, and her 
 eyes often wandered from the historical group 
 on her canvas, to the waving trees and the
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 19 
 
 smooth lawn, and the moving figures in the 
 pleasant garden beneath. 
 
 By-and-bye, and just as she had persuaded 
 herself that it was really getting too dark to 
 paint any longer, the door of the salle opened 
 abruptly, and Norah Kennedy appeared on the 
 threshold. 
 
 " Of course, " she said, advancing quickly to 
 where the other stood, " I thought I should find 
 you here, Nelly. You ought to be ashamed of 
 this dogged perseverance for such an ignoble 
 object — but I am in the mood for giving you a* 
 thorough scolding; so put down those miserable 
 brushes, and come out with me into the 
 garden." 
 
 Nelly yawned while her friend was speaking ; 
 and when she had done, replied frankly, that 
 the present interruption was very agreeable 
 to her. 
 
 "For, indeed, Norah," she continued, "I 
 have been longing for a stroll ; and had i . 
 
 c 2
 
 20 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 you amongst those gracefully gliding figures, I 
 should have left my easel half an hour ago." 
 
 " Very flattering and seductive words, Nelly ; 
 but if you had wanted me, it would have been 
 easy to seek me in my own room." 
 
 " Oh ; but I never thought of that. You 
 know how anxious I am to get this painting 
 completed." 
 
 " Don't I ? Why, has not this same 
 
 anxiety deprived me of your sweet society for the 
 last fortnight ? And yet in three days, Nelly, we 
 are to part for months and years ; perhaps, very 
 likely indeed, for ever." 
 
 Norah's voice took a tone of almost pas- 
 sionate sadness as she concluded this sentence, 
 and twining her arm round Ellen Covering's 
 waist, she kissed the fair bending face with im- 
 petuous affection. 
 
 " I am sorry at the thought of losing you, 
 dear Ncrah," replied the other kindly ; but she 
 neither returned the warm embrace, nor spoke
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 21 
 
 as if, to her, this coming parting were a matter 
 of very great importance 
 
 " You are sorry, Nelly/' repeated her Irish 
 friend, a little bitterly ; " and so you will be 
 when you say good-bye to Madame Guillemar's 
 pet dog, or to the porter's baby nephew. I 
 don't know why I should be wasting such 
 worlds of affection on a cold-hearted being like 
 yourself." 
 
 " I am not cold-hearted, Norah ; only some- 
 what less warm and demonstrative than your- 
 self." 
 
 " I say you are cold-hearted, Nelly ; not 
 from selfishness, I acquit you fully of this, but 
 constitutionally and irremediably. I have tried 
 to thaw you for the last eleven months, with 
 love such as one girl seldom bestows upon 
 another, but I see it is a vain task ; and at 
 length I have made up my mind to love on in 
 spite of you, and to let this love be its own, and 
 only exceeding great reward."
 
 22 TRIED m] THE FIRE. 
 
 "Norah, you are" very unjust, because too 
 exacting." 
 
 " I may be too exacting, but I am not un- 
 just. I wish you could prove that I am so in 
 your case." 
 
 " I do love you. Norah, and you know it. 
 Do I not tell you every thought, every feeling, 
 every weakness of which I am conscious ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I am formed to be an admirable 
 confidante," having no secrets or thrilling in- 
 terests of my own to absorb my mind ; but 
 don't look hurt, my Nelly. I will admit that 
 you have a sincere friendship for me, and were 
 I a person calculated to work upon your imagi- 
 nation, you might even, perchance, love me 
 almost as well as I love you." 
 
 " What do you mean now, Norah ?" 
 
 " Only that all your strong affections must be 
 created through the imagination rather than 
 through the heart. When the love of which 
 you dream so often, really comes, it will be ex-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 23 
 
 cited by an assemblage of attributes with which 
 you will invest the individual who has happened 
 (perhaps favoured by some peculiar external 
 attraction) to strike upon the sensitive chords 
 of this same ardent imagination. I know it 
 will be so, Nelly ; and as I foresee much un- 
 happiness to you in consequence of it, I heartily 
 wish it were otherwise." 
 
 " But when, my dear Norah, " asked Ellen 
 Clavering (by no means displeased with the 
 turn their dialogue had taken) — " when did 
 you make all these marvellous discoveries re-, 
 specting me?" 
 
 " For the most part in my own room, seated 
 on that fascinating window ledge, and leaning 
 against the bar which you persist in declaring 
 so dangerous/' 
 
 " Upon my word, Norah, I believe you will 
 meet with an accident one of these days, if you 
 do not abandon that frightful habit of yours ; 
 and then, putting the danger aside, it is really
 
 '24 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 so very, very unladylike, to sit with your legs 
 out of window." 
 
 Norah laughed loudly for a minute or so ; 
 and then said, 
 
 " As for the danger, there is positively* none ; 
 since it would take ten men at least to wrench 
 out that iron har, which is mv securitv ; and the 
 sense of freedom and lightness I enjoy when 
 thus seated, is worth a much greater risk than 
 even your timid nature can conjure up in the 
 present case. But if you come to the ladylike 
 nature of the action, I have only to reply, that 
 I have not the least ambition to be a lady, and, 
 therefore, may consider myself unfettered by the 
 arbitrary laws of ladyism." 
 
 " I wonder who is talking nonsense now ? 
 Happily nature has decided the point for you, 
 otherwise I do believe you would carry out your 
 eccentricities by choosing not to be a lady. It 
 would be quite like you.'' 
 
 "If I go through life, Nelly, as a woman — a
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 25 
 
 true woman — do you understand the term ? — 
 I shall be abundantly content," 
 
 "What is your idea of a true woman?" 
 
 "One who can forget herself ; and whether 
 in a palace or a cottage, lead a life of patient, 
 uncomplaining sacrifice. This is what women 
 were oriffinallv intended for ; and she who does 
 it not, is no true woman." 
 
 " But suppose no occasion presents itself for 
 the practice of such lofty heroism ; what 
 then?" 
 
 " There never was a woman born into this 
 wicked world to whom the occasion has not 
 come ; it is her own fault if she passes it by 
 without seeing it.*' 
 
 " Well, it sounds very noble and admirable ; 
 but I doubt whether the actual practice of it 
 would not necessarily include something that 
 has not, I am sure, been in our thought, 
 
 Norah." 
 
 " Christianity, piety, fanaticism."
 
 26 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " The first will do. Yes, I do believe that 
 real Christianity would be essential to a life of 
 constant, patient, self-sacrifice, such as you have 
 described." 
 
 " Not at all. There have been true women 
 amongst the greatest heathen idolaters in all 
 ages ; there are true women in our own country, 
 who never look into their Bibles. Whether 
 they will go to heaven or not. is a question that 
 the good people you patronise may decide, and 
 no doubt have decided ; but as far as this 
 world is concerned, such women do their duty, 
 and deserve some reward." 
 
 " Your doctrines and theories are always very 
 plausible, Norah ; but — but — " 
 
 " But you don't agree with them, Nelly — 
 say it out boldly. To you they are of earth, 
 earthy ; and you would rather I kept them to 
 myself. You are a little afraid of them, and 
 I accept the compliment, and thank you for 
 it."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 27 
 
 " Perhaps I am. Shall we come down into 
 the garden now ?" 
 
 " No ; it is pleasanter and quieter here, where 
 1 can at least have you all to myself. How 
 often I indulge in the selfish wish that you were 
 not such a general favourite, Nelly." 
 
 " Do you ?" 
 
 " Ah, now I see your thoughts are wander- 
 ing far away from me. Do, dear Nelly, be 
 generous, and remember how very, very soon 
 we are to part." 
 
 " I don't forget it any more than yourself, but 
 it is no use to be always speaking of it." 
 
 " Oh, Nelly, you could not help speaking of 
 it, if it haunted you night and day as it does me 
 but I should never make you understand the 
 intense and gnawing pain that comes m my 
 heart every time I reflect that our happy inter- 
 course is so soon to end. No more summer 
 evening strolls under those dear old trees, no 
 more cosy chats by our winter's fire ; no more
 
 28 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 delightful interchange of thought, and hope, and 
 feeling ; no more dreams together of the mys- 
 terious future — " 
 
 " Pray, pray, don't go on, Norah," interrupted 
 her friend, pleadingly, and in a tearful voice. 
 " You have said quite enough to put to flight all 
 my thoughts about to-morrow, and to make me 
 as low-spirited as I see you are yourself." 
 
 " Never mind, Nelly. With you it will only 
 last a few hours. The crown of white roses, 
 and the admiration of Madame Guillemar's 
 guests to-morrow evening, will restore all your 
 happiness, and leave you still a debtor to me in 
 the way of sorrow and regret." 
 
 " You are a privileged person, Norah, or I 
 would not so tamely submit to your insinua- 
 tions of vanity and frivolity — qualities that 
 ought never, at least, to have a prominent place 
 in the character of your chosen friend." 
 
 " I can well believe, Nelly, that, had nature 
 made me fair and attractive like you, I, too,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 29 
 
 should have gloried in exciting admiration, and 
 been content to derive my happiness from the 
 same unwholesome food." 
 
 Instead of replying to this, Nelly Clavering 
 remained apparently buried in thought for several 
 minutes, and when, at length, she spoke, it 
 seemed as if her meditations had been of a 
 totally different subject from the one under dis- 
 cussion. 
 
 " Norah, do you remember that English lady 
 who was on a visit to Madame Guillemar last 
 Christmas, and with whom I used to go out so • 
 often ?" 
 
 fC Perfectly — and how I used to dislike her 
 because she engrossed so much of your time 
 without having the smallest claim to it." 
 
 " You were dreadfully jealous, Norah ; and 
 for this reason I always avoided talking to you 
 about her. She was a widow, you know, and 
 had been one of Madame's first pupils years 
 ago."
 
 30 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " Well, Nelly, and what association of ideas 
 has brought this person on the tapis now ?" 
 
 " When you accused me of deriving my hap- 
 piness from the gratification of personal vanity 
 and such like follies, I w 7 as led to think of the 
 earnest way in which Mrs. Lane tried to set be- 
 fore me the only real and enduring happiness. 
 I often wish she had stayed longer here." 
 
 " That she might have made you a complete 
 and finished methodist, Nelly. I am sure I am 
 very thankful that she did not." 
 
 " And yet, Norah, if religion is true at all, it 
 must be essential for us to possess it." 
 
 " Of course, my dear ; but there is an im- 
 mense difference between simply possessing a 
 thing, and continually parading it before the 
 eyes of our fellow-creatures in a manner to make 
 ourselves both ridiculous and disagreeable. If 
 ever I come to wear the cross of iron on my 
 breast, I shall take good care to put a velvet 
 kerchief over it."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 31 
 
 " But it seems to me, Norah — of course, I 
 am very ignorant about all these things — that 
 there cannot be much sincerity or earnestness in 
 that religion which is not manifested in some 
 way or other to those around us. Without 
 boasting of it in the least — I am sure dear Mrs. 
 Lane never did — we ought, I fancy, to glory in 
 its possession, and not to hide it like something 
 we were ashamed of." 
 
 " Well, my dear Nelly, when once you can 
 assure me that you have yourself forsworn the 
 world and all its pomps and vanities, I may, 
 perhaps, listen with profit to your edifying ser- 
 mons. In the meanwhile, allow me to be 
 happy and wise in my own way, and to recom- 
 mend you, just entering into life — a life that 
 will necessarily be full of temptations and perils, 
 to choose definitely one path or the other, and 
 not to set out halting between two opinions." 
 
 " I wish I could choose the straight and nar- 
 row path — I do, indeed, Norah, — but the other
 
 32 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 is so attractive ; and, in the first, I should have 
 to walk alone — father, mother, brother, all 
 being completely in the world and of the 
 world." 
 
 Norah Kennedy yawned, and gave every evi- 
 dence of being weary of the subject. 
 
 " Look at those bright stars coming out> 
 Nelly," she said, drawing nearer to the open 
 window. " When I think of the future that 
 lies beyond this present world, I love to imagine 
 it connected with a borne in some of those 
 shining planets, where parted friends will be re- 
 united, human intelligence perfected, and every 
 means afforded us of gratifying to the highest 
 possible degree the faculties which our purified 
 natures will retain. " 
 
 " You are so clever, dear Norah, that it seems 
 absurd for me to argue on any subject with you ; 
 but, remembering all that Mrs. Lane took such 
 infinite trouble to teach me, I cannot help 
 thinking that your ideas of religion are very,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 33 
 
 very different from those you will find in the 
 Bible." 
 
 '■ I never said they were not ; but, for pity's 
 sake, don't let us get into a labyrinth, Nelly, of 
 which we are neither of us sure of the clue. 
 Ah, there is the refectory bell ringing ; so, by 
 way of a pleasant change, we will go now and 
 regale ourselves with artichokes and bread and 
 butter." 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 34 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The next day was one of ceaseless bustle and 
 excitement for all the teachers, pupils, and do- 
 mestics belonging to Madame Guillemar's large 
 establishment. There were drawings to be 
 finished and framed, duets, and solos both vocal 
 and instrumental, to be rehearsed for the last 
 time ; white dresses to be trimmed with the 
 colours of the respective classes, and all the 
 other minute and elaborate preparations con- 
 nected with the monster gathering, to be got 
 through, before six o'clock in the evening. 
 Amongst the English girls particularly, Miss
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 35 
 
 Jane's talents and good nature were in constant 
 requisition, and not a little quarrelling took place 
 because they could not all have her at the same 
 time. Some wanted her to help in mounting a 
 drawing, some to hear them play a difficult pas- 
 sage (for Miss Jane was a first-rate musician), and 
 others to show them how the lace and ribbons 
 were to be arranged on their dresses. Finding, 
 however, that it would be impossible to give en- 
 tire satisfaction to all, Miss Jane soon left the 
 disputants to get on as they could, and devoted 
 herself to her favourite, Ellen Clavering, who,* 
 while really requiring assistance, had been the 
 last to urge her claim, when she saw how the 
 kind-hearted little woman was besieged and tor- 
 mented. 
 
 They were in Ellen's private room, and the 
 toilette part of the business being happily dis- 
 posed of, Miss Jane had seated herself to play 
 the accompaniment of a song that Nelly would 
 have to sing in public in the evening. 
 
 D 2
 
 36 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " Now then, my dear, we must not waste 
 time. You are ready, are you not, Nelly ?" 
 
 11 Not quite, dear Miss Jane. All this run- 
 ning up and clown stairs has made my heart 
 beat so. I wish the evening were well over." 
 
 " Yet you anticipate a great deal of pleasure, 
 Nelly ?" 
 
 " And you despise me for it in your secret 
 soul — don't you, Miss Jane ?" 
 
 " No, my love, why should I ? I think, on 
 the contrary, it is very natural and excusable at 
 your age." 
 
 Nelly looked suddenly grave. Had Miss 
 Jane found fault with her frivolity, she would 
 immediately have tried to justify it herself; but 
 the reverse being the case, she felt condemned 
 and uncomfortable immediately ; because her 
 conscience spoke in louder and more faithful 
 words than any she was accustomed to listen to 
 from human lips. 
 
 " You are very kind and indulgent," she said,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 37 
 
 in a depressed tone, " but I know, nevertheless, 
 that I am weak and foolish enough to deserve 
 your condemnation. I admire Gertrude Scott 
 with all my heart, for having no interest in this 
 evening beyond the hope of receiving the prizes 
 she has so justly earned." 
 
 " Gertrude's character is altogether different 
 from vours, Nellv. I admire her too, and she is 
 a girl who will alwavs be admired and esteemed 
 above many around her ; but her virtues, we 
 must remember, are natural to her, and not the 
 result of conquered faults and erroneous ten- 
 dencies." 
 
 " How do you think people ought to set about 
 conquering their faults and failings, Miss 
 Jane ?" 
 
 Nelly was pretty sure she should not get a 
 perfectly right answer, but she was curious to 
 hear what the good, sensible Miss Jane would 
 have to say on the subject. 
 
 " My dear, you could find many a better
 
 38 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 guide and teacher than myself; but I think, 
 if once a person is thoroughly convinced and 
 ashamed of a particular fault or weakness, }hey 
 can, without any extraordinary effort, cure them- 
 selves of it." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Jane, if you say that, you can 
 never have had a fault or a weakness ; but my 
 heart is quiet now, and I must not monopolize 
 the whole of your precious time." 
 
 When the really difficult song had been gone 
 through, Miss Jane declared the execution of it 
 perfect, and warmly complimented Ellen Claver- 
 ing on the pains she must have taken. 
 
 " But really I have not," said Nelly, candidly. 
 <'I knew there was no fear of my voice failing 
 me; and therefore I have been inexcusably 
 lazy (at least, so my singing master tells me) 
 with all these fine Italian pieces." 
 
 "You have more pleasure in practising those 
 wild Irish melodies that Norah Kennedy is so 
 fond of."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 39 
 
 " A great deal, because I can feel whatever 
 is soft and plaintive and tender, whereas these 
 loud, impassioned scenes, to which I am ex- 
 pected to give expression, awake no echo in 
 my own heart, but rather weary and disgust 
 me. 
 
 " You are still a thorough English girl, 
 Nelly, in spite of your four years in this gay 
 city." 
 
 " I hope so. I should never wish to be any- 
 thing else." 
 
 " Nor even, I suppose, to marry a French- > 
 man ? 
 [ " Oh ! Miss Jane, not for the world ; would 
 
 A slight colour tinged the smooth, olive 
 cheeks of the middle-aged lady thus addressed ; 
 and Ellen suddenly remembered her companion's 
 strange emotion on the evening of the tea-party, 
 when Valerie Jocelyn had made some indiscreet 
 allusion to a past event.
 
 40 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " But how selfish and thoughtless I am to 
 keep you chattering here," she continued, with- 
 out giving the other time to reply, " when there 
 are two or three dozen people calling or waiting 
 for you in different parts of the house. Go 
 now, dear Miss Jane, to Katherine Wilmot — I 
 declare it is nearly four o'clock, and I will take 
 a peep in the meanwhile at Norah Kennedy, 
 who, I'll be bound to say, has not given herself 
 the trouble to get a single thing ready for the 
 evening." 
 
 Nelly had not misjudged her eccentric friend, 
 for on entering Norah's room she found that- 
 young lady seated on the floor, surrounded by 
 three or four half-packed boxes, humming the 
 air of one of her wildest and saddest national 
 melodies, and otherwise employed in reading, or 
 at least looking over a packet of apparently very 
 old letters. 
 
 She raised her eyes, full of a mournful, ab- 
 stracted expression, as the door opened, but
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 41 
 
 only nodded, without speaking to the privileged 
 intruder. 
 
 11 1 have come to see if I can do anything for 
 vou, Norah. You said the other day your dress 
 wanted a good deal of arranging:, and I don't 
 believe you have the least idea how to do it 
 yourself." 
 
 11 1 have never thought of it since, Nelly. 
 You are very kind, and if you really mean to do 
 it for me, I will hunt it out at once." 
 
 " I will do it with pleasure ; but what have 
 you been about with all these boxes ? Nobody 
 is thinking of packing up to-day." 
 
 " 1 meant to do everything now, that I might 
 have to-morrow to devote entirely to you, but 
 happening to light upon this bundle of letters — 
 it was my evil genius that guided me to them 
 — I have wasted all my time, and brought on a 
 fit of something worse than the spleen." 
 
 " Poor Norah !" 
 
 " Oh, don't pity me, Nelly, or I shall get ill-
 
 42 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 tempered as well as dull. While you are sewing, 
 I will, if you like, tell you something concerning 
 these letters and their writer. I never meant 
 to do so, but we are going to part, and I know 
 that if I ask it, you will make a grave for it in 
 your memory, not to be desecrated by even your 
 nearest and dearest in after-years." 
 
 Nelly looked deeply interested, and readily 
 promised all that her friend required. 
 
 " We were neighbours," then began Norah, 
 tying up her packet with nervous fingers, " when 
 he was a rough schoolboy, and I, being delicate 
 and sickly, had a governess every day at home. 
 Our gardens were only divided by a low wall, 
 and often, always indeed on summer evenings, 
 he used to come over and work at my flower- 
 beds, with me, or learn his lessons while I 
 worked, or made work for others, alone. I be- 
 lieve that even as a boy he was very handsome 
 and distinguished-looking, but I never took any 
 heed of that. It seemed a most natural and
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 43 
 
 inevitable thing that we should grow attached 
 to each other, and learn to think, as time went 
 on, that it would be impossible ever to live apart. 
 Our first separation occurred when he went to 
 college, and then the grief and desolation that 
 I could tell to no one, wrought upon my health, 
 and eventually laid me on a sick bed, where I 
 had time to be ashamed of my weakness, and to 
 struggle with more than woman's strength 
 (though I was then only fourteen) against it. 
 We corresponded very regularly during all that 
 first absence, and when, at the end of about six 
 months, he came home again, he was handsomer, 
 more manly, and more devoted to me than ever. 
 In looking back to it now, I can only suppose 
 that it was my own personal plainness and in- 
 significance that hindered his relatives from 
 attaching any importance to our intercourse ; 
 and yet they might have known that human 
 affections are not dependant upon comely fea- 
 tures, or what the world calls loveliness ; indeed,
 
 44 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 the very fact of my want of beauty, impressed 
 since my earliest childhood upon my mind, ren- 
 dered the unmistakeable attachment he lavished 
 upon me a thousand-fold more precious and 
 inestimable. 
 
 " I cannot, dear Nelly, in spite of the interest 
 I see you feel, linger over my story as if it were 
 a romantic fiction that I had read or heard. 
 Although I am now nearly twenty, and I was 
 less than fourteen when I first knew him, every 
 incident connected with our acquaintance is so 
 painfully burnt into my memory, that it seems 
 but a month or two ago that it all occurred ; 
 and the wounds are no nearer healing than they 
 were when first inflicted, notwithstanding that I 
 have learned to hide them from the common 
 gaze.'' 
 
 " Do go on, Norah," said Ellen, as the nar- 
 rator paused abruptly, and seemed to be thinking 
 some uncommunicable thoughts — " I had no idea 
 that you had such a history concealed from me."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 45 
 
 "lam going on, Nelly, but don't let me get 
 sentimental or ridiculous in the midst of the 
 plain narration I wish to make. You look so 
 deeply and intensely sympathetic while listening 
 to stories of this kind, that one is always 
 tempted to lay the whole heart bare before you ; 
 but that is not my present object, so turn away 
 those speaking eyes of yours, and let me my 
 round, unvarnished tale deliver, as quickly and 
 briefly as I may." 
 
 " I will put all my heart and eyes into this 
 muslin dress, Norah, if you will only continue 
 your history." 
 
 " Well, then, I am coming to our second se- 
 paration, which lasted some months longer than 
 the first, and at the expiration of which, my 
 friend was to visit his home, but for a very short 
 time previous to settling himself in Dublin, as 
 junior partner in a large banking establishment, 
 of which a rich, childless uncle was the head and 
 chief.
 
 46 TRIED IN THE EIRE. 
 
 " It was during the few days we were now to- 
 gether that I first began to fancy a slight change 
 in the friend I had hitherto thought all my own. 
 He was not less kind and affectionate than 
 before, but he was less anxious to have me con- 
 stantly with him, and more preoccupied when I 
 was by his side. Still, however, this had only 
 the effect of rendering me occasionally irritable 
 and gloomy with others, it never made me either 
 unkind to or suspicious of him. He was no 
 longer a boy — life, with all its large excitements, 
 was opening before him, and it was natural 
 enough that he should begin to look out from 
 the dream-world we had hitherto inhabited to- 
 gether, into that wide battle-field, whither I might 
 not at present follow, and in whose interests he 
 doubtless thought I was too young and ignorant 
 to participate. 
 
 " So I reasoned, and so I strove to content 
 myself even when the last parting words had 
 been uttered, and I knew that it would probably 
 be years ere we met again.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 47 
 
 " For some months our correspondence went 
 on as regularly and warmly as ever, fand it was 
 my happiness to think that he still opened his 
 heart to me, and made me the confidante of all 
 his joys and sorrows, as fully as in the old, 
 hlissful days of constant and unrestrained com- 
 munion. At length, however, this source of 
 never- wearying pleasure and consolation abruptly 
 dried up, his letters ceased altogether, and, 
 after enduring the utter misery of suspense and 
 fear, till I was ill in body and half distracted in 
 mind, I went boldly to his mother and asked 
 her what was the matter. 
 
 " This woman had never liked me, otherwise 
 for his sake I could have clung to and almost 
 worshipped her. Now she replied coldly, that 
 her son had been ill for some time, and that 
 even when quite well again he would probably 
 have too much work to do to be able to cor- 
 respond with ' all his old playfellows.' All his 
 old playfellows ! Ah, Nelly, my child, you will
 
 48 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 never see me suffer as I suffered then ; but of 
 course it did not matter to anybody, and so I 
 kept it to myself, and hated life, and sunshine, 
 and all bright things, and wished every hour of 
 my existence to die and forget that I had ever 
 had a being. And now, from this healthy and 
 enviable state, which lasted above two years, 
 how do you think I was roused ?" 
 
 " Surely not by hearing of his death ?" 
 " No, my child, it was on this wise. One 
 morning, a summer morningr, I was gathering 
 some flowers in the garden for my own mother, 
 who was sick, when suddenly his mother put 
 her head over the low wall that divided us, and 
 said, in her most gracious tones — 
 
 " ' Norah, your old playfellow sends his love 
 to you, and something else that I will give you 
 by and bye. He was married the day before 
 yesterday to one of the richest girls in Dublin, 
 and as lovely, they tell me, as — as that rosebud 
 you have got in your hand.' "
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 49 
 
 " I believe I replied * thank you, ma'am/ but 
 with no more consciousness of what I was 
 thanking her for, than if I had been an animated 
 machine speaking the words prescribed for me 
 by the mechanician. I remember, however, that 
 she added with remarkable distinctness of ut- 
 terance — 
 
 " ' Yes, I knew you would be pleased to hear 
 the news, for you always took an affectionate 
 interest in my dear boy, and this is really such 
 an excellent match for him.' 
 
 " I went from her into the house, and at- 
 tended upon my sick mother, and denied my- 
 self throughout all that day the blessing of a 
 single hour of solitude, bat the night came at 
 last; and then, carrying with me to my own 
 room the wedding cake he had sent for me, I 
 shut out the world, and spoke with my po^r 
 heart alone. Soon after this, my mother's ill- 
 ness terminated in death, and I grew sick and 
 vol. I. E
 
 50 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 weary, and disagreeable to everybody around 
 me, and my father, in desperation, sent me to 
 France. So now, Nelly dear, you have the 
 whole history, of which these old yellow letters 
 are all the external record that remains. Thank 
 you, my child. You have arranged that an- 
 tiquated-looking dress most tastefully." 
 
 " Ah, Norah, but I should like to hear more 
 of your history, and not, after having had my 
 deepest interest excited, be put off with such 
 an abrupt termination. May I not ask if you 
 have ever heard of him since ?" 
 
 " I have never heard of him since." 
 " And what induces you to keep the let- 
 ters ?" 
 
 " I don't know, or rather I should say my 
 probable motive for doing so does not enter into 
 the confidence I have chosen to make. Let us 
 talk of something else." 
 
 Nelly acquiesced, but she noticed with pain
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE: 51 
 
 # 
 
 and uneasiness that there was not a shadow 
 of colour on Norah's cheeks, when, an hour 
 afterwards, she left her to dress for the even- 
 ing. 
 
 E % i 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY
 
 52 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 There were, perhaps, few assemblies in Paris 
 that evening more brilliant or more striking than 
 the one in which Madam Guillemar's pupils 
 were to play so conspicuous a part. No expense 
 and no trouble had been spared to render this 
 particular concourse attractive and successful. 
 Several of the English girls, having finished 
 their education, (at least in conventional par- 
 lance,) were to return to school no more ; and 
 it was one amongst the many objects that 
 Madame had in view, that these young ladies 
 should take back to their own country a fa-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 53 
 
 vourable report of the establishment in tho 
 Faubourg St. Honore. 
 
 Not less than five hundred guests had been 
 invited, and these, accommodated with seats on 
 either side of the long gallery, and in the rooms 
 opening from it, were permitted to gaze for once 
 without rebuke, and to their hearts' content, at 
 the sixty white-robed girls who occupied covered 
 benches, raised one above the other at the ex- 
 tremity of the gallery down which they would 
 have to pass, each in her turn, and alone, to 
 receive the prizes distributed by Madame Guil- 
 lemar and the different masters who attended 
 the establishment. 
 
 After the distribution of prizes a concert was 
 to take place, and at the conclusion of the con- 
 cert a little friendly dance amongst the pupils 
 and their own intimate friends and relatives, the 
 remaining portion of the guests having the 
 option to remain as spectators if they were so 
 disposed .
 
 54 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 By half-past six the rooms were nearly full, 
 and the poor girls, who had been seated in state 
 for nearly three quarters of an hour, beginning 
 to grow weary and impatient. Amongst the 
 members of the first class, distinguished by rose- 
 coloured ribbons, and occupying the highest 
 bench, were the four English girls who have 
 been already introduced to the reader. Kathe- 
 rine Wilmot, Gertrude Scott, Nelly Clavering, 
 and Norah Kennedy. The two last, seated side 
 by side, were conversing in whispers, while 
 Gertrude Scott, with flushed cheeks and anxious 
 eyes, was silently awaiting the ordeal before her, 
 and Katherine Wilmot was scanning the yet 
 restless group beneath, with a disdainful curl of 
 her aristocratic lip, which would plainly have 
 intimated to any who had cared to notice it, that 
 she deemed it an immense condescension on her 
 own part, to be found in such a scene at all. 
 
 At length the signal for silence and order was 
 given — a general hush took place amongst the
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 55 
 
 expectant visitors, and for a few minutes all 
 eyes were turned to that end of the gallery 
 where Madame Guillemar sat behind a table 
 covered with neat piles of books, and flanked 
 on either side by the grave-looking, black-coated 
 professors, who gave every evidence of being 
 seriously interested in the business which had 
 brought them there. 
 
 The first prize awarded fell to the share of a 
 French girl, who had not, in a convenient bash- 
 fulness, to make the ordeal of walking down 
 the long gallery to receive it, in the slightest 
 degree painful or disagreeable — but the next 
 person summoned was Gertrude Scott, and the 
 deep blushes that dyed her cheeks, mounting 
 even to the roots of her dark hair, as with 
 trembling steps she descended from her altitude, 
 created universal sympathy and interest amongst 
 tho lookers on, and elicited the exclamation of 
 " poor Gertrude !" from the lips of nearly all 
 her companions.
 
 56 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 Six times this good, industrious girl had to 
 go through the ceremony, whose painfulness she 
 had scarcely calculated upon, before either of the 
 other English pupils was called to leave her 
 seat. She was the onlv one amongst them who 
 had been ab^e to compete with the French girls 
 in those solid branches of education which re- 
 quired steady and constant industry to master, 
 and her having done so successfully, was con- 
 sidered a proof of genius that did honour to her 
 country as well as to herself. 
 
 Without doubt, Gertrude was very proud and 
 very happy when, for the sixth time, she returned 
 to her seat, and added another to the little pile 
 of books already deposited between herself and 
 Katherine Wilmot ; but it is none the less true 
 that she rejoiced in the idea that her task was now 
 at an end, and that she should play the far easier 
 part of a spectator for the rest of the evening. 
 
 " First, and only prize for the study of the 
 harp, awarded to Miss Katherine Wilmot.' ,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 57 
 
 And that dignified young lady, who had some 
 excuse now for the scornful expression that 
 marred rather than increased the beauty of her 
 features, (inasmuch as she was the only girl in 
 the school who had learnt the harp), walked with 
 firm and stately step down the gallery, and re- 
 ceived her prize with the air of a queen who is 
 graciously accepting some token of homage from 
 a humble and devoted subject. 
 
 " Who is she ?" whispered a small, dark 
 gentleman, seated near enough to Madame 
 Guillemar to reach her ear. " I never saw so 
 striking a face and figure." 
 
 " She is," replied the smiling governess, " one 
 of our choicest specimens of the English aris- 
 tocracy, but possessed of a pride and haughtiness 
 such as I am very sure neither you nor any of 
 our countrymen would wish to come in contact 
 with. Besides, I have no authority for intro- 
 ducing Miss Wilmot in France." 
 
 To render this last sentence intelligible, it
 
 5'8 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 must be explained that Madame Guillemar's 
 school, notwithstanding its high respectability; 
 had a character for match-making, which was 
 not entirely undeserved. It was, in fact, no 
 secret amongst her large circle of acquaintances, 
 whatever it might be amongst the pupils them- 
 selves, that she undertook to find suitable hus- 
 bands for any of the young ladies intrusted to 
 her care, whose parents wished to have them 
 married off their hands. There was only one 
 instance on record of an English girl having 
 been so disposed of, and as this union turned 
 out unhappily, it was never openly alluded to. 
 
 " So much the worse," exclaimed the small 
 Frenchman in reply to Madame's information 
 concerning Miss Wilmot, " for that is a woman 
 to whom I should not mind giving- my arm." 
 
 O CD J 
 
 If Katherine could have heard him ! 
 
 After the numerous rewards for music had 
 been distributed, the professor of drawing came 
 forward with his rather long list of names, and
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 59 
 
 looking encouragingly and approvingly across the 
 intervening space towards his favourite pupils — 
 
 " Prize of honour for oil-painting — Miss 
 Ellen Clavering." 
 
 " Poor Nelly ! are you frightened ? \ Summon 
 courage, dear child, it will soon he over." 
 
 " I am not in the least frightened, Norah, 
 only I am sure my face is dreadfully red." 
 
 " What does it signify ? Take care, or you 
 will step upon your long dress." 
 
 In another minute Nelly was hending low her 
 ringletted head to receive from Madame Guil- 
 lemar's hands the crown of white roses she had 
 worked so hard and untiringly to obtain. 
 
 " And that young lady," explained Madame, 
 turning to her inquisitive guest, who had leant 
 forward the instant Nelly had received her dis- 
 mission, " is one of our English beauties. What 
 do you think of her?" 
 
 " Ah ! not very much ; she is too short, and 
 has too bright a colour."
 
 €0 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " Poor child ! she is flushed and excited,'' said 
 the governess, who was fond of Ellen Clavering, 
 " otherwise I assure you she is far prettier than 
 Miss Wilmot." 
 
 And this seemed to he the general opinion, 
 wafted in faint whispers and exclamations to 
 Nelly's ears, as she hastened hack to her seat, and 
 pressed gratefully and affectionately the warm, 
 encouraging hand that Norah held out to her. 
 
 " Are you satisfied, Nelly, or does the golden 
 fruit taste less deliciously than its appearance 
 promised ?" 
 
 " Pray don't tease me now, dear Norah. I 
 am quite satisfied, and very glad, indeed, that I 
 persevered in my object." Then, suddenly 
 turning full upon her friend — " I would give the 
 world if you were going to have a prize, 
 Norah ?" 
 
 " Hush ! we shall get into disgrace for 
 whispering. Had I tried for a prize, depend 
 upon it I would have gained it."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 61 
 
 In the meanwhile the chief business of the 
 evening proceeded rapidly. More than one 
 young and pretty head received a crown of roses, 
 and more than one young and sensitive heart 
 beat rapidly in the consciousness of exciting, for 
 at least a moment, universal admiration. But 
 at length came the most interesting part of the 
 whole performance, namely, the bestowal of 
 the prizes of esteem, which consisted of a 
 myrtle wreath, to be placed, like the crown of 
 roses, on the head of the recipient, who was 
 chosen through the simple medium of votes by. 
 the pupils themselves, each one writing on a 
 slip of paper (to be afterwards submitted to 
 Madame) the name of the girl she conscientiously 
 believed to be the most amiable and worthy of 
 esteem amongst her companions. 
 
 It was generally pretty well known before 
 hand to whom this coveted reward would be 
 given ; but on the present occasion there were 
 two girls, one French, and the other English,
 
 62 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 who shared nearly equally the esteem and af- 
 fection of the rest of the school. The former 
 was a young lady who had already carried off 
 five or six of the most honourable prizes ; the 
 latter was Gertrude Scott, whose genuine and 
 unaffected humility had prevented her from 
 having the slightest suspicion that she was to 
 be the heroine of the evening- 
 
 So, however, it turned out ; and on the public 
 announcement being made, that amongst sixty 
 girls, this quiet English stranger was admitted 
 by the larger number to be the most worthy of 
 esteem ; poor Gertrude, with tears in her eyes, 
 and a brighter flush than even Nelly Clavering's 
 on her cheek, had once more to walk down the 
 formidable gallery, and amidst looks of interest 
 from the spectators, and of warm approval from 
 Madame Guillemar and her assistants, to re- 
 ceive the myrtle crown upon her head, and 
 return thus honourably decorated to hear the 
 vet more touching; and gratifying murmurs
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 63 
 
 of congratulation that arose amongst her com- 
 panions. 
 
 This being the last prize to be bestowed, a 
 general movement now took place, and imme- 
 diate preparations were commenced for the 
 promised concert. All the girls who had any 
 pretensions to be musicians, were included 
 amongst the performers ; the least skilful certain 
 of finding indulgence, at any rate, from their own 
 relatives, and a few so conscious of superior 
 talent, that they had no need to fear the most 
 critical audience. 
 
 Amongst the last was Nelly Clavering, whose 
 rich, thrilling voice only required careful culti- 
 vation to make it as remarkable as it was even 
 now sweet and attractive. 
 
 " You are looking too thoughtful and dis- 
 contented for an expectant prima donna, " said 
 Norah to her friend, as they stood together for 
 a few minutes, drinking eau sucre in the salle 
 de dessin ; " what is the matter, Nelly ?"
 
 64 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 "Nothing, only I am tired of the evening, 
 and wish I had not to sing." 
 
 " Is that quite true, Nelly ?" 
 
 " It is indeed — but here comes Gertrude 
 Scott to speak to us. How pretty she looks 
 to-night, don't vou think so ?" 
 
 " Not exactly pretty, but very nice, and very 
 happy. Well, Gerty, how do you feel beneath 
 your weight of honours ? Here is Ellen Cla- 
 vering half inclined to be jealous of you." 
 
 This was purely a random shot, for Norah 
 had been far from attributing anv such unworthy 
 sentiment to her friend ; but Nelly's face grew 
 crimson under Gertrude's smiling scrutiny, and 
 she replied with unusual temper — 
 
 " You are for ever saying disagreeable things, 
 Norah. Nobody can feal more strongly than I 
 do, the justice of the distinction Gertrude has 
 obtained : she will not question this, I am sure, 
 though you are ungenerous enough to do so." 
 " How childish you are," replied Norah, in a
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 65 
 
 half-grieved, and half-impatient tone. " I was 
 only jesting, as anybody but yourself would have 
 discovered. You had better leave us, Gertrude, 
 for you see we are both of us excessively dis- 
 agreeable to-night." 
 
 '•Not till I have thanked you both most 
 sincerely for your votes in my favour," said 
 Gertrude, looking gratefully from one to the 
 other of these strangely assorted friends. " I 
 knew that a few amongst the English girls 
 wished me to get the prize of esteem, but I 
 never could have believed I had so many friends 
 — it has been a great surprise to me." 
 
 "True merit is always humble," replied 
 Norah, " at least if children's copybooks are 
 to be trusted in — but you are not partaking of 
 these delectable refreshments, Gertrude, and in 
 five minutes the concert will begin." 
 
 At that moment Nelly was called by one of 
 the teachers to bring her music and remain with 
 the other intended performers in the circle as- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 65 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 signed to them round the different instruments, 
 which had been placed upon a kind of square 
 dais, contrived for the occasion at the same end 
 of the gallery where the pupils had previously 
 been seated. 
 
 In an establishment like that of Madame 
 Guillemar, the concert, it is scarcely necessary 
 to say, went off with great eclat. All the 
 singers were loudly and enthusiastically ap- 
 plauded, Ellen Clavering not more, perhaps, but 
 quite as warmly as any of the rest ; and yet she 
 had rarely done so little justice to her voice as 
 on this occasion, and it must have been a 
 superior one indeed to triumph in the slightest 
 degree over the disinclination she evidently felt 
 to exert its powers. 
 
 Miss Wilmot played an elaborate solo on the 
 harp, which excited the very fervent admiration 
 of the small dark gentleman, and inspired him 
 for a moment with the insane idea of following 
 that young lady to England, and boldly demand-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 67 
 
 ing her hand of her aristocratic parents ; but 
 happening at a later hour of the evening to en- 
 counter a look of Katherine's when he had 
 dared to fix his eyes upon her for a longer 
 period than politeness warranted, he not only 
 abandoned this design, but came to the remark- 
 able conclusion that a wife chosen from the 
 English aristocracy would not be likely to yield 
 him that entire respect which he should naturally 
 exact from the lady on whom he conferred the 
 honour of his name. 
 
 The little dance that succeeded the concert „ 
 was necessarily less brilliant than either of the 
 two entertainments that had gone before. Most 
 of the girls were tired and warm, and those pri- 
 vileged friends who were permitted to mingle 
 indiscriminately amongst them, would have pre- 
 ferred chatting quietly rather than leading them 
 through the figures of a quadrille ; but Madame 
 Guillemar and the dancing-master were both 
 agreed as to the urgent necessity of this cere- 
 
 F 2
 
 68 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 monial, so one and all were obliged to submit to 
 it, and to conceal their weariness and sighing for 
 bed as well as they could. 
 
 Norah and Ellen had only five minutes to- 
 gether when the long evening was fairly over ; 
 and then, on the former's earnestly entreating 
 a reconciliation, Nelly, putting up her face for a 
 kiss, said, frankly, — 
 
 " If there had been nothing of truth in your 
 accusation, Norah, I should not have been 
 offended, but I had been contrasting discon- 
 tentedly my crown of roses, which had cost me 
 such immense effort, with Gertrude's myrtle 
 wreath, obtained through the simple exercise of 
 a goodness that is perhaps natural to her, but 
 none the less admirable and worthy of imitation. 
 I suppose she will be one of your true women 
 by and bye." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but not if her present book 
 fever grow. Blue stockings — it is an odious
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 69 
 
 name for them — are the most selfish people in 
 the world." 
 
 " Good night, Norah. I am thoroughly and 
 stupidly tired, and shall go to sleep standing, if 
 I stand much longer." 
 
 " Good night, my child ; and remember that 
 to-morrow, at least, you are all my own."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 In a pleasant, elegantly-furnished room, looking 
 out upon a spacious lawn, where fancifully- 
 arranged beds and wire stands of the brightest 
 autumn flowers contrasted prettily with the dark 
 green of the grass and of the distant trees, sat, 
 in the month of August, 18 — , a lady and gen- 
 tleman, both a little past middle age, talking 
 rather earnestly together. The breakfast things 
 had just been removed, and two or three oper- 
 letters were lying on the table, all of them a<l 
 dressed to " Hugh Clavering, Esq., the Manor, 
 St. Ives, Northumberland." 
 
 " Ellen writes a pretty hand enough," said the 
 lady, when a sudden pause in the heretofore
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 71 
 
 animated conversation gave her an opportunity 
 of making this passing remark. l ' I am glad 
 she has avoided getting into the French style, 
 it is so miserably cramped and ungraceful." 
 
 " Yes," replied the father, absently, " she 
 has apparently done very well ; and I shall 
 be delighted to have my little girl at home 
 again." 
 
 "I wish Maurice would come in. I am very 
 doubtful whether he will approve this sudden 
 journey to Folkestone, detesting as he does exer- 
 tion of every kind. I really wish, Mr. Clavering, 
 your occupations had permitted you to go 
 yourself." 
 
 " Unfortunately, they do not, my love, other- 
 wise Nelly should not have made the request in 
 vain. Those crops would be worth nothing if 
 I were not constantly on the spot to look after 
 them ; and you know how much I reckon upon 
 my farms this year ; besides, what on earth has 
 that lazy young dog to do, that he should grum-
 
 72 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 ble at giving up a few days to fetch home a 
 pretty sister ?*' 
 
 " It is not that he has much to do, but sim- 
 ply that he dislikes exertion. Whatever you 
 may choose to think, Hugh, Maurice is far from 
 strong." 
 
 The father's brow — an open, pleasant one it 
 was — contrasted for a moment impatiently, rather 
 than anxiously, as if it angered him to have allu- 
 sion made to that which he was determined to 
 treat as folly. 
 
 " Pshaw I" he said, " there never was a better 
 constitution, if it is only let alone. Take care 
 you don't put ideas into the boy's head, and 
 convert him into a nervous hypochondriac. There 
 is always danger of something of the kind 
 with these moonstruck dreamers." 
 
 " But, to return to our original discussion," 
 said Mrs. Clavering, drawing a little work-table 
 near to her. "I do seriously wish you would 
 give me your promise of taking Ellen to town
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 73 
 
 this winter, and introducing her to your 
 family." 
 
 " You are unusually importunate and per- 
 severing, my dear," replied the husband, rising 
 suddenly and walking to the window ; "lam 
 ready, of course, to sacrifice any of my own 
 wishes to yours, but for the life of me I cannot 
 see why Nelly should not be as happy and 
 contented all the year round in the country, 
 as you and Maurice have always been." 
 
 " You are now only evading the real point of 
 the question under discussion, Mr. Clavering. 
 It has been nothing to me, as your wife, to 
 forego the supposed advantages of an intimacy 
 with your aristocratic connections. I could 
 easily plead your own tastes and mine, for a 
 quiet country life, and Maurice's character has 
 sufficiently explained his continuing to share 
 our retirement ; but who will believe that a 
 young, pretty, and accomplished girl like Ellen, 
 would voluntarily choose such complete seclu-
 
 74 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 sion as this, especially when the alternative 
 embraces so very much that the world at least 
 pronounces desirable ?" 
 
 " Hang the world !" exclaimed Mr. Clavering, 
 with an unusual burst of temper. " I thought 
 you and I had long ago settled its claims to 
 consideration." 
 
 "As far as I am personally concerned, you 
 know I do not care for it one iota, but with my 
 children it is another matter ; and there are 
 many serious reasons which induce me to urge 
 you to comply with my request. Say, dear 
 Hugh, that you will not refuse me." 
 
 But dear Hugh was growing decidedly im- 
 patient and tired of the argument. Turning 
 round abruptly, and facing his startled wife, he 
 said in a low, but perfectly distinct voice, 
 
 " Suppose my family declined to receive your 
 daughter ?" 
 
 The lady's still fair and blooming cheek lost 
 in an instant every vestige of colour, her eyes
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 75 
 
 became fixed and unnaturally brilliant, while 
 her lips, whiter even than her cheeks, seemed 
 to unclose with a painful effort, as, in answer to 
 her husband's question, she said, — 
 
 " You have then deceived me, Hugh, 
 throughout all our married life. Not another 
 word is necessary ; I understand the whole now. 
 The ban was laid, not only upon the actress 
 whom you married in the warm impulse of a 
 loving heart, knowing her — for you did know 
 it, Hugh — to be as pure and innocent as any 
 of the high-born ladies your noble family would 
 have chosen for you, but upon the unconscious 
 children of that ill-starred union, who are thus 
 deprived of their rightful heritage, and, in the 
 event of your death, condemned to an obscurity 
 as great, if not greater, than that from which 
 you rescued their mother. Indeed, indeed, you 
 should have told me all this sooner." 
 
 Mr. Clavering, who had a thoroughly En- 
 glish antipathy to scenes and explanations of
 
 76 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 every kind, looked excessively distressed, em- 
 barrassed, and uncomfortable, while his wife 
 was speaking ; but her abrupt silence compelled 
 him to make some reply, and in a half-coaxing, 
 half-deprecating voice, he said, — 
 
 " Come, come, don't excite yourself about 
 such a trifle, there's a dear woman. Things 
 are not so bad yet as you would represent them. 
 When I die, Maurice will have this estate ; and 
 if he manages it only half as well as his father 
 has done, surely to goodness it will bring in 
 enough to keep you all respectably ; and then 
 you know there is old Mrs. Hope's cottages 
 for you and Nelly, supposing Maurice should 
 take a wife who was disagreeable to you. 
 Depend on it, I have thought of all these things 
 before to-day ; and if I concealed from you the 
 fact that my narrow-minded relations had given 
 me to understand, when I pleased myself by 
 marrying the prettiest woman in England, that 
 they cast off me and mine for ever, it was only
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 77 
 
 to spare you pain j and because I hoped you 
 would have no more foolish ambition for your 
 children than you have had for yourself; 
 besides," he added with a sudden effort of 
 jocularity, " I don't intend dying these hundred 
 years yet, so you need not be troubling your 
 head about the fashion of your weeds at pre- 
 sent, old woman, or about anything else that 
 may come to pass when I am lying in the 
 churchyard." 
 
 This last accidental allusion did more for 
 Mr. Clavering than the whole of his eloquent 
 speech. His wife, though a singularly reserved 
 and undemonstrative person, loved him with all 
 her heart, and the vision thus conjured up of 
 the husband of her youth occupying the 
 narrow home appointed for all the living, while 
 she continued an inhabitant of the breathing, 
 animated world, subdued for the time every in- 
 dignant and selfish emotion, and brought tears 
 of real feeling into her lately angry eyes.
 
 78 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " We will speak of it no more, Hugh, since 
 what is done can never now be recalled. 
 Heaven forbid that you should die before me ; 
 but for a moment the mother's heart cried 
 louder than the wife's, and I forgot all but that 
 I had taught my poor Nelly to expect a brilliant 
 introduction into society, and that in unde- 
 ceiving her, I shall be compelled to enter into 
 details that I had hitherto fondly trusted would 
 be unnecessary." 
 
 " Leave all that to me, my love," said the 
 husband, with wonderfully restored composure 
 and cheerfulness. " I will answer for our daughter 
 loving you none the less, because in early youth 
 you laboured for the support of a widowed 
 mother, in the only vocation for which your 
 talents fitted you. And as for the gay world 
 that you talk about, Nelly is a thousand times 
 better out of it ; we will marry her by and bye, 
 to some steady country gentleman, and thus 
 secure to ourselves the happiness of seeing our
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 79 
 
 children's children brought up in simplicity and 
 uprightness, perhaps within a few miles of our 
 quiet home. Now give me a good kiss, old 
 woman, for I must be off at once to the 
 meadows ; and when Maurice comes in, I 
 should advise you to let him drive you out for 
 an hour in your pony chaise." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering put up her face with a gentle 
 and forgiving smile, for the kiss her husband 
 asked ; and, seeking not to look below the sur- 
 face, he could no more understand the grief and 
 bitterness he was leaving in her heart, than she 
 could enter into the hearty, genial, contented 
 nature that enabled Hugh Clavering on all oc- 
 casions to expel from his mind whatever was 
 vexatious and disagreeable with the same 
 facility that the swan is said to throw off every 
 vestige of impurity (with which it may come in 
 contact) from its snowy wings.
 
 80 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Mrs. Clavering was still sitting where her 
 husband had left her, her eyes fixed in apparent 
 abstraction upon the smiling, sunny prospect 
 without, her hands locked tightly together, her 
 cheek paler than it had been even at the most 
 exciting part of the recent discussion, when 
 (nearly an hour afterwards) her son Maurice 
 abruptly entered the room. 
 
 " Dear mother, I hope I have not made you 
 anxious by staying out so long," he said, in a 
 singularly sweet and almost feminine voice. " I 
 was awake early, and the beauty of the morn- 
 ing tempted me to undertake a constitutional
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 81 
 
 walk. I stole a roll and a slice of ham from the 
 pantry, and, having satisfied my hunger, forgot 
 all about the time. But you are not looking 
 well, mother. Has anything unpleasant hap- 
 pened ?" 
 
 Mrs. Clavering forced herself to say, " No/' 
 in a voice that was perfectly calm if not cheer- 
 ful ; and then, begging Maurice to sit down and 
 rest after his long walk, she opened Nelly's 
 letter, and read it aloud to him. 
 
 " And so Ellen is really to be at home in a 
 few days," exclaimed the brother, more thought- 
 fully than gladly. "I wonder if she is very 
 much changed. Will my father be able to go 
 to meet her V 
 
 " No, unfortunately he finds it impossible ; 
 and therefore, my dear boy, there is no resource 
 but for you to supply his place. You will have 
 to start to-morrow/' 
 
 Maurice said not a word, but his countenance 
 expressed the reverse of pleasure; there was 
 
 vol. l G
 
 82 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 even an unmistakable nervousness in his man- 
 ner, as he stooped down absently to pat Mrs. 
 Clavering's little dog that was lying at his feet. 
 
 " I would willingly have spared you the task, 
 Maurice," continued the mother, who understood 
 her son's reluctance perfectly ; " but there is 
 really no way of getting out of it. We cannot 
 let poor Nelly travel so far without an escort ; 
 and think, besides, what she would feel, after 
 four years' absence, in finding none of her family 
 to welcome her back to England ; but, if you 
 dislike this journey so very much, I will persuade 
 your father to let me go with you." 
 
 " Dear mother, pray do not think of such a 
 thing, or say another syllable about it. I ought 
 to be delighted at the idea of being of the least 
 use to anybody, more especially to a sister from 
 whom I have been so long parted. Poor Ellen ! 
 she would never, I am sure, have exhibited the 
 same disinclination to take a journey to meet 
 me.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 83 
 
 " Ellen is not shy, or constitutionally nervous, 
 like you, my dear Maurice ; but, after all, I am 
 in hopes this little trip will do you good, and a 
 few hours spent alone with your sister, will make 
 you as much at home with her, as if you had 
 not been a day separated." 
 
 Maurice smiled rather incredulously, and said 
 — " If she is not very, very Frenchified, mo- 
 ther !" 
 
 " I do not apprehend anything of the kind, 
 
 my love. Her letters have always been simple, 
 earnest, and affectionate ; and I have no doubt 
 that her return amongst us will increase the hap- 
 piness of the whole family. We need a bright 
 sunny spirit to put a little more life into us 
 sometimes." 
 
 " I- wish mine was brighter and sunnier, for 
 your sake, dear mother." 
 
 " You know I do not want you changed in the 
 least, Maurice, nor precisely for my own sake 
 would I choose any alteration in the present 
 
 g 2
 
 84 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 quiet monotony of our domestic circle; but 
 your father is naturally gayer and more sociable 
 than either you or myself; and I think he will 
 feel in particular the charm of a young, accom- 
 plished daughter's constant presence." 
 
 "Yes, it will make a decided difference in 
 our home and habits ; but has it not struck you, 
 mother, that Ellen herself, if she is so pretty and 
 clever, may find it rather dull here occasionally ?" 
 
 Mrs. Clavering, who had lost nearly all her 
 depression during the foregoing conversation 
 with her son, grew suddenly flushed and excited 
 at this question. She said hurriedly — 
 
 " We must hope not, as your father has such 
 an invincible repugnance to leaving the country. 
 By and bye, Maurice, you will probably marry, 
 and then your wife can show poor Nelly some- 
 thing of the gay world." 
 
 " My wife !" repeated the young man, with a 
 strange smile, then immediately afterwards — 
 " If ever, by any wild chance, I found myself in
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 85 
 
 possession of such an appendage, mother, I don't 
 think she would be a likely person to introduce 
 my sister into the fashionable world." 
 
 " And why not, my son ?" 
 
 " Because I should never dream of uniting 
 myself to a wife whose tastes, and habits, and 
 character were in direct opposition to my own." 
 
 11 That is clear, but depend upon it, Maurice, 
 as you grow older and get rid of the painful 
 shyness which hangs like a clog upon you now, 
 you will enjoy the world, and enter into it with 
 as much zest as other young men." 
 
 " No, no, mother/' he replied with a sudden 
 light kindling in his dark and usually rather 
 pensive eye — " my repugnance to the world has 
 a much deeper source than you imagine. It will 
 never, never be anything to me." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering was naturally too reserved 
 herself to seek even her own children's confi- 
 dence ; and although, as Maurice spoke, she 
 looked at him with the deep, tender anxiety
 
 86 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 that only mothers can feel, she would not ask 
 him a single question ; and Maurice had already 
 talked far more about himself than he was in 
 the habit of doing. 
 
 " What do you say to a drive, mother ?" he 
 exclaimed with sudden animation. " The air is 
 so very, very delicious this morning, that I am 
 sure it would do you good/' 
 
 11 1 will go with you, my son, in half an hour 
 from this. In the meanwhile let me recommend 
 you to take a glass of wine and a biscuit, for I 
 expect your early repast was not a very substan- 
 tial one." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering rang the bell as she moved 
 to leave the room, and meeting the servant in 
 the hall, desired him to carry in refreshments 
 to Mr. Maurice; but Maurice, faint and tired 
 though he undoubtedly was, did not even notice 
 their arrival — he had fallen into a reverie, or a 
 day dream, or some mental exercise equally ab- 
 sorbing, from the moment his mother left him ;
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 87 
 
 and when (at the expiration of the half hour) 
 she returned, shawled and bonneted, for their 
 drive, he had apparently forgotten his engage- 
 ment, and had some difficulty in rousing him- 
 self to fulfil it. 
 
 Once in the open air, however, this singu- 
 larity of manner entirely passed away, and he 
 talked as pleasantly and cheerfully of the scenes 
 through which they were passing, as if he had 
 nothing more or less in him than other educated 
 young men of his age. Mrs. Clavering grew 
 almost animated too in listening to her com- 
 panion, and breathing the soft, perfumed air of 
 that lovely autumn morning. She proposed, 
 after thev had been out an hour, that thev 
 should go round by the meadows, and try to 
 find Mr. Clavering. 
 
 This was not a difficult task, as that indefa- 
 tigable gentleman always spent his mornings 
 amongst his labourers, superintending the cut- 
 ting and removing of his usually plenteous crops,
 
 88 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 as well as every other description of work that 
 was done upon his farms. On the present 
 occasion he was discovered, like a second 
 Palemon, standing in the midst of the yellow 
 sheaves, and looking round upon these golden 
 treasures rather with the manly satisfaction of 
 one who sees the result of his own skill and 
 industry, than with the air of a money wor- 
 shipper speculating upon the probable amount 
 of his gains. 
 
 The wife and son paused to watch him for 
 a few minutes, before making their arrival 
 known. 
 
 " I wonder, Maurice," said the former, " whe- 
 ther you will ever enjoy the life of a country 
 gentleman as heartily and thoroughly as your 
 father does. I can scarcely picture you stand- 
 ing there as he is doing now, with that beaming 
 face of perfect satisfaction and evident forgetful- 
 ness of all beyond these yellow fields." 
 
 Maurice seemed to be gazing with too much
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 89 
 
 interest at his father to be able to take in the 
 meaning of his mother's observation. It was 
 certainly not in answer to this, that he at length 
 spoke. 
 
 "I should think all that the world under- 
 stands by the term ' good/ as applied to a hu- 
 man being, would be found in its fullest and 
 truest perfection there. The elements are kind- 
 lier mixed (as Tennyson says) in my father's 
 nature, than in that of most men that one meets 
 in the present day." 
 
 " Or perhaps in any day, Maurice, though I 
 know you cling rather fondly to the idols of the 
 past generation." 
 
 " Not to its idols, mother, but to its really 
 good and great men, who lived for others instead 
 of for themselves. I believe, if I could be 
 brought to fall down and worship any abstract 
 human virtue, it would be unselfishness, because 
 it is so very, very rare." 
 
 "But tell me, Maurice, where have you, in
 
 90 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 our retired nook, and with your limited expe- 
 rience, seen its reverse in such alarming exer- 
 cise?" 
 
 " Chiefly in my own heart, mother, which, 
 after all, is our best initiator into the weaknesses 
 and sins of human nature at large; but every 
 intelligent observer of life in its very narrowest 
 and humblest sphere, must be continually re- 
 minded that most men live, and toil, and scheme 
 for themselves alone." 
 
 " Yet you at least are very young to have 
 made this discovery, Maurice. I am afraid so 
 much thinking and solitude do you no good, 
 my son. You should come and help your fa- 
 ther oftener, and learn the duties that will one 
 day inevitably be your own." 
 
 " Halloa, you spies, you traitors ! What are 
 you doing there?" called out Mr. Clavering, 
 suddenly, in a loud and cheery voice, as he threw 
 down a handful of wheat he had been examining, 
 and advanced towards the hedge which divided
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 91 
 
 the little carriage and its occupants from the 
 field. "Now you have ventured so near the 
 enemy's ground, you shall let one of the men 
 take home the carriage, and come and keep me 
 company here." 
 
 " But Maurice has already had one long ram- 
 ble this morning," said the mother, looking 
 anxiously at her companion's pale, tired face, 
 " and the sun will be very hot for us to walk 
 home." 
 
 " Fiddlesticks ! " replied the father, with 
 brusque good humour, "he will eat all the 
 heartier dinner for it ; so get down both of you, 
 and come round by that open gate yonder." 
 
 There was no resisting his half-coaxing, half- 
 imperative manner. He was so delighted to 
 have his wife and son to talk to about his crops, 
 so pleased to think (not to observe, for, had his 
 organ of observation been strongly developed, he 
 might have arrived at a different conclusion), but 
 so pleased to think that Mrs. Clavering had got
 
 92 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 over her excitement and distress of the morn- 
 ing ; and ahove all, so full of the internal sun- 
 shine of a happy and contented spirit, longing 
 to bring others under the same influence, that 
 he soon made both his companions forget that 
 they had been forcibly detained, and that they 
 had a long, hot walk still in prospective. 
 
 When, at length they did reach home, poor 
 Maurice was fairly done up, and in anticipation 
 of the morrow's journey his mother prevailed on 
 him to lie down and rest till dinner time, while 
 she herself, to drive away painful thoughts, com- 
 menced arranging and adorning the room she 
 destined for her daughter.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 93 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " FROM ELLEN CLAVERING TO NORAH KENNEDY. 
 
 " The Manor, St. Ives, Dec. 15th, 18— 
 "MY DEAREST NORAH, 
 
 " The very just reproaches contained in 
 your fourth letter, now lying open before me, 
 do not add one fraction to the weight that has 
 long been oppressing my conscience on your 
 account. It is quite true what you say with so 
 much unmerited tenderness, that during the 
 three months that have elapsed since we parted, 
 I have only written you half a dozen lines, just 
 to mention my safe arrival at home. I shall
 
 94 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 not ask your forgiveness, but I shall endeavour 
 to ensure even your forgetfulness of my fault, 
 by the present volume of gossip I mean to send 
 you. You want to hear all about my home 
 and home pursuits, whether I am as happy as I 
 expected to be, whether my parents spoil me as 
 you assert I am made to be spoiled ; and finally, 
 whether I find in my dear brother the com- 
 panion and friend I so fondly anticipated. 
 
 " In the first place, then, my home, this old, 
 respectable, sleepy-looking country house, seems 
 to me a hundred times quieter and more mono- 
 tonous than it ever did before. I don't believe 
 one flower or shrub has been added to the 
 gardens, or a single tree removed, since I left 
 it four years ago. Papa spends all his time and 
 moneyupon his farms, and mamma has no passion 
 for changes or improvements of any kind. 
 Besides, to speak frankly, what would be the 
 use of beautifying a place that no eyes but our 
 own ever look upon? for although of course
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 95 
 
 we have a few country neighbours and visitors, 
 they are such specimens, Norah, that one never 
 thinks of ascribing to them the faculty of 
 appreciating anything beyond a good dinner or 
 the latest piece of village scandal. And yet, in 
 spite of all this, I do love my home, in its grey- 
 ness and its quaintness, with a very real affec- 
 tion; and while the beautiful autumn lasted, 
 and I could drive about with mamma, or ramble 
 with papa in his beloved corn fields, or stroll 
 soberly and quietly beside Maurice in the leafy 
 woods that surround our estate, I never once 
 felt the want of any other pleasure or excite- 
 ment. I was in truth as happy as the day was 
 long. 
 
 " But the winter has come now, Norah, and 
 you know how little I enjoy this melancholy 
 season, with its bare trees, and its frozen ground, 
 and its icy fingers that always seem to twine 
 themselves in an especially disagreeable manner 
 round my poor heart. And so, at the present
 
 96 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 time I certainly do not feel as happy and con- 
 tented as I ought to do. The veriest trifle 
 wearies or irritates me, the home life appears 
 insupportably tedious, I wonder continually at 
 my dear father's unvarying gaiety, at my mother's 
 sweetness of temper, at Maurice's philosophical 
 indifference to the annoyances that cloud and 
 ruffle my far less amiable spirit. But now let 
 me tell you something more about all these dear 
 ones, who having lived so long in this quiet land, 
 seem to have become part and parcel of its 
 strange quietness. I must begin with papa, not 
 only as chief of the family, but because he 
 seems to possess a little more of the quicksilver 
 element in his composition than the other two. 
 Without an atom then of filial exaggeration or 
 partiality, my father is as near perfection as a 
 human being can be, kind, loving, thoughtful, 
 unselfish in small matters as well as great, and 
 with a perpetual brightness of spirit that is felt 
 by everybody who approaches him. He and I
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 97 
 
 are very firm friends and allies, but I think I am 
 nearly sure that Maurice nestles closer in his 
 heart of hearts than I shall ever do. This is 
 natural, and, in spite of the craving you always 
 accused me of, I cannot discover that I am 
 either jealous or uneasy about it. Not even, 
 though I know for a certainty that the same is 
 the case with mamma, into whose character I 
 can only gain sufficient insight to love her 
 without understanding her. She seems at 
 times to have an anxiety about my happiness, 
 my present happiness, that puzzles me exceed- 
 ingly, and often, when I am not conscious of 
 even looking dull, she will say earnestly, (gene- 
 rally prefacing her words with a quiet sigh), 
 " My dear Ellen, I wish I could think of some- 
 thing to give a greater interest to your life. I 
 am afraid you are not happy amongst us." Of 
 course 1 invariably assert to the contrary, and 
 do my best, by singing and making a noise, to 
 dispel her fears ; but they are sure to return in 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 a few days, and then the scene is repeated. She 
 is very firm in making me keep up my painting 
 and music, but I fancy she does not like my 
 singing much before our country neighbours. 
 Papa delights in their admiration and surprise, 
 and makes a point of telling everybody that I 
 have a wonderful voice ; but as mamma so evi- 
 dently objects to its frequent exercise in public, 
 I rarely taste even the milk-and-watery gratifi- 
 cation of hearing the plaudits of these Goths 
 and Vandals. After all, what does it signify ? 
 The dreams I used to have with you, Norah, 
 under the old school trees, are never likely to 
 be realized, and perhaps it is all the better. 
 Launched upon the troubled sea, enchanted with 
 its glittering waves, I should certainly have 
 struck upon some treacherous rock, and thus 
 have paid dearly for my little hour of pleasure. 
 And yet, and yet, you know me too well to 
 believe, even if I dared to assert a falsehood, 
 that the passionate yearning is quenched, or that
 
 ' TRIED IN THE FIRE. 99 
 
 I am in reality a bit more either of a saint or a 
 philosopher than I was three months ago. 
 
 " I am coming now to the last, and, if I suc- 
 ceed in exciting your sympathy, by far the most 
 interesting part of my letter. 
 
 " My brother. My dear, good, incomprehen- 
 sible, mysterious brother ! 
 
 " My first interview with him was at 
 Folkestone, where he had come instead of papa, 
 to meet me on my return from school. In the 
 joy of seeing, after so long an absence, the face 
 of one belonging to me, I did not think of notic- 
 ing whether Maurice had conquered the remark- 
 able and painful shyness that had characterized 
 him as a boy. I was, in truth, more occupied 
 with my own feelings than with his, and in 
 thinking of the impression I should produce 
 upon him, rather than in analyzing that which 
 he made upon me. So, having a hundred or 
 two questions to ask, I rattled on unmercifully 
 from the moment of our meeting, speaking in 
 
 H 2
 
 100 TRIED IN THE FIRE. * 
 
 that barbarous dialect compounded of French 
 and English, jumbled indiscriminately together, 
 which you know so many of us got into the 
 absurd habit of using. Quite suddenly he 
 stopped me, and, in the quietest and gentlest 
 of voices (as if fearful of giving offence, and yet 
 steadfast in his purpose of correcting me) said, 
 1 Ellen, dear, T am not sufficiently familiar with 
 the French language to understand the half of 
 what you are talking about, and I do not think 
 you will find many in the north more learned in 
 this respect than myself. Had you not better, 
 therefore, try at once to begin speaking sim- 
 ple English ? I cannot explain, Norah, why it 
 should have been so, but, from the moment I 
 received from Maurice this mild and sensible 
 rebuke, I recognized in him my superior ; and, 
 singularly youthful-looking as he is, I have 
 ever since felt a little afraid of him, just enough 
 to make me love him all the more, and earnestly, 
 passionately to desire to win his esteem and
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 101 
 
 confidence. That I have hitherto failed to do 
 so, is my present greatest sorrow. Maurice is 
 not irritable or fault-finding with me, as some 
 even affectionate brothers are with their sisters ; 
 but he is as distant and reserved as if I were 
 only a guest in the house, and I have often 
 noticed, with the deepest pain, that my society 
 seems a restraint and a burden to him. If I 
 speak of this to papa (I should never dream of 
 doing so to mamma), he only says — * Maurice is 
 an odd fellow, Nelly, and I don't understand 
 him a bit better than yourself, but we must leave 
 him alone, and all will come right in the end/ 
 I do not doubt, Norah, that with Maurice all is 
 right now ; but if you knew how my heart aches 
 to win a brother's love, if you knew how I plan 
 and labour, and watch for opportunities of doing 
 him any little service, how happy and delighted 
 I am if he only says, ■ Thank you, Ellen dear/ 
 and seems to appreciate it, you would pity me, 
 and wish me success. You see he is not a bit
 
 102 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 like other young men, or I might discover some 
 unguarded avenue to his heart and affections ; 
 but he has no friends, no associates, and appears 
 to derive all his pleasure from sources entirely 
 unconnected with those around him. More 
 than half his days are spent alone, reading or 
 studying, I suppose ; and then, when he joins us, 
 he is so absent and strange, that no one ever 
 thinks of talking to him of the every-day trifles 
 which are necessarily so much discussed by peo- 
 ple in the country. If a neighbour, however 
 intimate, drops in, to make a call, Maurice in- 
 variably leaves the room ; and I am become 
 quite weary of hearing the incessant remark — 
 * What a pity Mr. Maurice cannot get over his 
 shyness.' My own impression is, that if he 
 could, he would still feel no more interest in 
 the society around us than he does at present. 
 
 " But why cannot he love and make a friend 
 of me? 
 
 " I used, in the beginning, to talk to him of
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 103 
 
 my school days, of you, Norah, and our other 
 companions, and sometimes I thought I had suc- 
 ceeded in arousing his attention, and drawing 
 him out of that mysterious dreamland in which 
 he habitually lives ; but an answer made at 
 random, or a smile when there was nothing to 
 call it forth, soon convinced me that I had 
 chosen a most unthankful listener, and that the 
 gulf was yawning as widely as ever between my 
 brother and myself. Since then I have tried 
 successively romance, poetry, painting, general 
 literature, and every other subject that my in- 
 dustrious brain could suggest as likely to interest 
 him, or make him regard me as less than a 
 frivolous, shallow-headed, school-girl than (I 
 fear) he does at present ; but all has been use- 
 less, and I have even observed that the more I 
 have talked to him about these things the more 
 he has seemed to shrink from me, as if my very 
 efforts to gain his love were working against 
 me, and helping to turn his heart away. Papa
 
 104 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 tells me that it is only within the last year that 
 Maurice has become so very strange. He was 
 always dreamy and inclined to be melancholy and 
 unsociable ; but formerly these were his sole 
 peculiarities, whereas now everything about him 
 is peculiar and unaccountable, and I cannot help 
 thinking that he has something weighing on his 
 mind. Of course, papa will not hear of this — 
 he is so essentially open, straightforward, and 
 transparent himself, that his nature revolts at 
 the idea of any mystery or concealment; and 
 then, as he truly observes, Maurice is so unmis- 
 takeably good, that what can there be ? Well, 
 perhaps I am wrong, but I cannot help my 
 thoughts; and I know I have the organ of 
 observation strongly developed. Dear, dear 
 Maurice, if he has a hidden grief, I would sa- 
 crifice almost my life to be able to console him. 
 Tell me your candid impression of all I have 
 related to you, Norah, and assure me at the 
 same time that you forgive me my long silence,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 105 
 
 and regard me still, as I ever have been and ever 
 shall be, 
 
 " Your loving and devoted friend, 
 
 "Nelly Clavering."
 
 106 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 It was a dull Christmas at the manor house that 
 year; for although Mr. Clavering entertained 
 his neighbours and tenants as usual, and did his 
 best to make everybody as happy and contented 
 as he was himself; there were certain elements 
 wanting, without which no scheme of the kind 
 can ever be perfectly successful. The lady of 
 the house was dull and preoccupied, and had 
 neither smiles nor gracious words to bestow 
 upon her husband's guests. The young 
 daughter, whose foreign education had made 
 her an object of keen curiosity, amongst most
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 107 
 
 of the worthy, but narrow-minded people, 
 gathered together on this occasion, seemed 
 incapable of enjoying or appreciating any of 
 the delightful country gossip with which all 
 were ready to entertain her, and, moreover, 
 disappointed everybody by looking, speaking, 
 and acting just like any other young English 
 lady of her age would have done. What was 
 the use, said they, of going all that distance, 
 and costing all that money, if she was to come 
 home again just the same as those who had 
 never been ? 
 
 Perhaps had Nelly not received her brother's 
 lesson, she might have made a more striking 
 impression upon these dissatisfied individuals, 
 but as it was, she had taken good care to let 
 no word or gesture, indicative of her four years' 
 residence in a Paris school, call forth a second 
 time the disapproval of the strange being 
 whom her warm sisterly heart was striving so 
 ardently to please and to understand.
 
 108 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 As for Maurice himself, it was easy to see 
 that even these heavy provincial gaieties, at 
 which he could scarcely avoid being present 
 (on the comprehensive principle that they came 
 but once a year), jarred discordantly against 
 that inner and hidden sense or feeling, which 
 separated him at all times from the rest of the 
 world. But to please his father, he really did 
 make a tremendous effort to appear sociable and 
 affable, on this occasion ; and the general re- 
 mark was, that Mr. Maurice, in spite of his 
 singularities (which many alluded to pityingly, 
 and with a significant tapping on their own 
 narrow foreheads), was worth twenty of his 
 sister, for all her blue eyes and golden curls. 
 
 There was, however, just one exception to 
 this otherwise universal opinion, and had Ellen 
 Clavering known it, she might, with the aid of 
 her ever-active imagination, have created for 
 herself a passing interest out of the dull 
 Christmas gathering in which (as it was) she
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 109 
 
 saw nothing but the very spirit of stupidity and 
 senseless formality. 
 
 A tenant of Mr. Clavering's, who rented one 
 of his smallest and most distant farms, not 
 being able to induce a shy and awkward son, 
 only just returned home, to accept the squire's 
 gracious invitation, proposed to a young gen- 
 tleman who had been lodging with them for some 
 weeks, to take the son's place, and accompany 
 himself and his wife to the Manor. The 
 lodger, who appeared a quiet, studious sort of 
 person, naturally enquired who lived at the 
 Manor, and what sort of an entertainment it 
 was to be. 
 
 " Why," replied the farmer, making a sign 
 to his wife to let him speak first, which was 
 doubtless a necessary precaution, " it be Squire 
 Clavering who lives there, with his lady, and 
 son, and daughter. They be good enough 
 people in their way, 'specially the Squire ; and 
 every Christmas Eve he gives a dance and a
 
 110 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 supper to all the folks about who choose to go. 
 There'll be a fine lot of 'em this year, for sure, 
 if its only to see the young lass who's been 
 away for her edication in forrin parts. Now, 
 wife, what have you got to say to Muster 
 Willand, that you stand there biting your nails 
 with hurry for me to be done ?" 
 
 " I've got to explain, Master, that if Mr. 
 Willand chooses to go (and for my part I shall 
 be most proud of his company), he'll like to be 
 the only one there belonging to the quality ; for 
 though the vicar and his family are always 
 asked, and the doctor, and the lawyer from the 
 village, they're too proud in general to mix with 
 us poorer folk, and so they wait till Christmas 
 day, and then dine at the Manor, though I have 
 known Miss Veronica come on the eve as 
 
 well." 
 
 "And who is Miss Veronica?" asked the 
 
 stranger, amused at the information he was 
 
 receiving.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 1 1 1 
 
 " Why, she's the Vicar's only daughter, and 
 does a deal of work in the parish — saves her 
 father a curate — and wears out more shoes than, 
 anv woman in St Ives?" 
 
 " Pretty and young ? ,} next enquired the 
 inquisitive lodger. 
 
 " La bless you no, Sir. As plain a lady as 
 
 you'd wish to see is Miss Veronica, and they do 
 
 say not over- sweet of temper — but if you want 
 
 a pretty face you must come and look at Miss 
 
 Ellen. She's thought a reg'lar beauty, Sir, 
 
 with pink cheeks and blue eyes, and hair all in 
 
 ringlets. I can't think where they mean ]fco 
 
 find a husband for her in these parts; but for 
 
 sure she's too handsome to die an old maid. " 
 
 The young man smiled. <: I don't admire 
 
 dolls in general, Mrs. Venning; but still I 
 
 should like to go to this party of yours on one 
 
 condition." 
 
 " And what may that be, Sir ?" 
 
 " That you lend me your son's holiday suit,
 
 1 1 2 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 (I think our height is about the same,) and allow 
 me to pass as Thomas Venning." 
 
 " Well, I never in all my life ! Yuu must 
 surely be joking, Sir — Master, did you ever hear 
 of such a thing ?" 
 
 " Let Muster Willand please hisself," said the 
 farmer, who was less prone to be astonished at 
 trifles than his better half — " Nobody knows 
 our Thomas about here yet, as he's been so 
 many years down in Wales with his uncle ; and 
 besides, amongst such a lot of us, 'tis ten to one 
 if the squire or his family pay any heed to a 
 quiet young man who won't be wanting to put 
 hisself forward. So if you've a fancy for wear- 
 ing our Thomas's clothes, Sir, and going along 
 with us, do it by all means. " 
 
 And thus it came to pass that Sidney 
 Willand formed one of the heterogeneous party 
 assembled beneath the hospitable roof of Ellen 
 Clavering's father on the Christmas eve which 
 she found so insupportably dull and wearisome.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 113 
 
 In accordance with the worthy farmer's hint, 
 this discreet young man did not attempt to put 
 himself forward in any way — he was quite con- 
 tent to gaze at Ellen as she walked languidly 
 and with a scarcely-perceptible frown of annoy- 
 ance on her pretty face through the old- 
 fashioned dances that were always, on these 
 occasions, danced at the Manor ; and, whatever 
 her bashful and awkward partners might think 
 of her ungracious taciturnity, Mr. Willand saw 
 in it only a proof of superior refinement and 
 good taste, rebelling against what he considered 
 an absurd attempt at lessening the distance that 
 ought ever to be distinctly marked between the 
 educated and the ignorant, the gentle born and 
 the rude descendants of clowns. 
 
 Towards the end of the evening, and just 
 before the grand supper, which was to conclude 
 the festivities, Mr. Clavering went up and 
 whispered something in his daughter's ear. 
 
 " As you like, papa," said Ellen, aloud, and 
 
 vol. I. I
 
 114 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 in a voice of perfect indifference ; " but you had 
 better tell mamma it is your wish." 
 
 " Certainly, my love. Mamma has no objec- 
 tion ; only let it be something English, and sim- 
 ple, and not too short." 
 
 " Auld Robin Gray, perhaps ! I believe that 
 is a favourite of yours." 
 
 " Yes, yes, by all means. Everybody knows 
 it, and the old folks will be delighted. Now sing 
 your very best, Nelly ; it is always worth while 
 to give pleasure when we can." 
 
 And to please her dear father, Nelly did sing 
 her very best on this occasion, giving such 
 hrilling eifect to the beautiful words of the an- 
 cient ballad, that more than one cheek was wet 
 before she had concluded, and Sidney Willand, 
 an enthusiast about music, became so strangely 
 excited that his incognita was in danger of being 
 betrayed, and he had to make a precipitate 
 retreat while the supper tables were being 
 wheeled into the room.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 115 
 
 On his hostess expressing her astonishment 
 the next day that he should voluntarily have 
 missed such a magnificent feast, he replied 
 quietly — 
 
 " There are things which appease some peo- 
 ple's hunger, Mrs. Venning, more satisfactorily 
 than even turkeys and mince pies ; and my feast 
 was concluded before I left the Manor House. 
 I am greatly indebted to you and your good 
 husband for allowing me to accompany you ; and 
 if it is quite convenient, I will secure my pre- 
 sent lodging for another month." 
 
 I 2
 
 116 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Mrs. Clave ring took cold immediately after 
 Christmas, and had to keep her room for more 
 than a week. She had been ailing for some 
 little time previously ; and to this physical indis- 
 position her husband attributed that depression 
 of spirits which he, as well as the rest of the 
 family, could not avoid remarking. Of course, 
 the house was now duller than ever, and, very 
 severe weather setting in, Ellen began to find 
 her home not only destitute of all interest, but 
 positively odious to her from its contrast with 
 the busy, animated, exciting life of the past four 
 years.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 117 
 
 Without being industrious in the ordinary 
 meaning of the word, Ellen Clavering had a 
 mind which demanded some actually existing 
 interest, some (for the time at least) absorbing 
 object of thought or occupation, to keep it in a 
 healthy state. If her mother would have 
 accepted her as a nurse, given her the most 
 fatiguing duties to perform, and suffered her to 
 feel herself necessary or even useful in the family, 
 the present fever might have abated, and the 
 naturally restless mind have settled into the quiet 
 calm which ordinarily accompanies the faithful 
 discharge of home duties ; but Mrs. Clavering 
 had unfortunately to battle herself with one fixed 
 idea, which not only constituted her own increas- 
 ing unhappiness, but entirely prevented her from 
 studying her daughter's character, and thus add- 
 ing (as she might so easily have done) to Ellen's 
 present and future well-being. 
 
 As for Mr. Clavering, he was always engaged 
 out of doors ; and with his usual aptitude for
 
 118 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 looking no farther than where the sunshine fell, 
 
 he saw nothing disagreeable that was going on 
 
 within. And Maurice, quiet and gentle as a 
 
 y\r\, wrapt in his uncommunicated thoughts, 
 
 md neither seeking nor requiring any external 
 
 excitements, was the last person likely to rouse 
 
 ns sister from the moody, dissatisfied, and even 
 
 x'retful state of mind, that she felt growing upon 
 
 her. 
 
 Perhaps, had he opened his brother's heart, 
 md taken her cordially into it, all might have 
 jeen different ; but it is no uncommon thing for 
 members of the same family to know less of 
 each other than the veriest stranger, who cares 
 to read below the surface, may succeed in 
 knowing. 
 
 A temporary and wholly unexpected relief 
 was, however, at hand. 
 
 Ellen had come down one morning from her 
 mother's room, where she had been vainly en- 
 deavouring to persuade the invalid to let her
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 119 
 
 take the nurse's place ; and disappointed for the 
 twentieth time in her really well-meaning efforts, 
 the poor girl, with tears in her eyes, was looking 
 out of the window on the frozen ground and 
 heavy skies, when a female, half buried in furs 
 and other winter wraps, and carrying, besides, 
 a basket and a huge cotton umbrella, suddenly 
 appeared at the end of the terrace, and elicited 
 from the silent watcher the mental ejaculation 
 of— 
 
 " How detestable and provoking ! and nobody 
 but me to receive her." 
 
 It was Miss Veronica Glossop, the rector's 
 indefatigable daughter, who had come to pay a 
 morning visit at the manor. 
 
 For some reason or other, which she never 
 sought to define, Ellen Clavering stood a little 
 in awe of this strong-minded lady, and the idea 
 of entertaining her alone was distasteful in no 
 common degree to her, especially in reference to 
 the red eyes which just then she was quite
 
 120 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 conscious of possessing. But Miss Veronica 
 made no comment on the suspicious appearance 
 of her young hostess, (of course she noticed it, 
 because nothing ever escaped her keen and well- 
 practised observation), but went straight into 
 the object of her visit at once, without even 
 waiting to offer qr listen to a remark about the 
 weather: 
 
 " Miss Ellen, I want you, if you have no ob- 
 jection, to become my colleague in district 
 visiting, attending the day schools, organizing 
 the Dorcas meetings, and all that sort of thing. 
 You know that hitherto I have done it all my- 
 self, because I hate interference and opposition, 
 and there has been nobody at St. Ives who 
 would feel an interest in the work ; but I am 
 not so young or so strong as I was, and the 
 parish is increasing. Are you following me in 
 what I am saying ?" 
 
 Ellen had been so completely taken by surprise, 
 that her countenance probably expressed more
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 121 
 
 than the simple attention which Miss Glossop 
 alone demanded ; but on that lady's somewhat 
 stern enquiry, she replied eagerly — 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Miss Veronica, and I assure 
 you I feel greatly flattered as well as pleased at 
 your request. I — " 
 
 "Oh," interrupted the other brusquely, "you 
 have no great reason to feel flattered, since I 
 should have preferred doing without you had I 
 been able. You must favour me with your 
 attention a few minutes longer, while I explain 
 what will be required of you — but first of all 
 let me distinctly understand whether your re-* 
 ligious opinions and doctrines are the same you 
 are accustomed to hear from my father's pulpit 
 every Sunday." 
 
 Had Ellen spoken now with perfect frankness, 
 she would have said that she gathered neither 
 opinions nor doctrines of any intelligible form 
 from Mr. Glossop's tedious and unedifying dis- 
 courses ; but she was not a rude young lady, and
 
 122 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 therefore she only replied, with some embar- 
 rassment — 
 
 " I must confess that I have always thought 
 far too little on serious subjects, Miss Veronica ; 
 but of course I will act under your instructions, 
 and read any books that you may recommend." 
 
 The grim face of the visitor relaxed into 
 something nearly approaching a smile at these 
 words, and she replied in a gentler voice — 
 
 " That is well, Miss Ellen, and all that can be 
 expected of you in the beginning. You can 
 come to me for an hour twice a week, when I 
 shall be happy to give you some general in- 
 structions concerning your new duties, and to 
 initiate you into the characters and dispositions 
 of the rough people you will have to visit." 
 
 "Thank you very much. I shall be de- 
 lighted." 
 
 " Now you must know," continued Miss 
 Veronica, " that one of my principal objects — 
 the one, indeed, nearest my heart, has always
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 123 
 
 been to keep our people about here from falling 
 away to dissent. Formerly this was not so dif- 
 ficult, as they had an ignorant, sleepy, sort of 
 man as preacher at the dissenting chapel ; but 
 vithin these six months a thorough hot-headed, 
 wanting schismatic has taken the lead amongst 
 them, and our church gets thinner every Sun- 
 day. I have reason, indeed, to fear (here the 
 speaker's voice assumed a fierceness that almost 
 made Ellen tremble) that some other and un- 
 suspected influence is at work, turning all heads 
 and hearts from the good old paths. It is to 
 help in counteracting this, as much as to save 
 my poor legs, that I require your assistance. 
 We must make the people understand that 
 schism is a deadly sin, and that by committing 
 it they will lose everything both in this world 
 and the next/' 
 
 Thoroughly bewildered as Ellen felt, she was 
 too elated at the idea of having such pleasant 
 and responsible duties to perform, to betray her
 
 124 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 ignorance to the keen and watchful eyes of her 
 companion, so she only bowed, and asked when 
 her work was to begin. 
 
 " If you are not afraid of the weather," said 
 Miss Glossop, shortly, " you can go the rounds 
 with me to-morrow, and I will introduce you to 
 the people who will henceforth be your especial 
 care. By the bye, you had better find out, 
 before I leave you now, whether your father and 
 mother approve the plan. Make haste, and I 
 will warm my feet and fingers while you are 
 gone." 
 
 " And take some lunch," said Ellen, ringing 
 the bell. " I know, however, before asking, 
 that mamma will have no objection ; and as for 
 papa, he will be delighted to see me em- 
 ployed." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering appeared much more sur- 
 prised at Ellen's eager acceptance of Miss Glos- 
 sop's proposal, than at the proposal itself ; but it 
 was enough for the mother that the daughter
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 125 
 
 seemed really to desire it, and her only sug- 
 gestion was, that during the severe weather she 
 should avoid going any great distances on foot. 
 
 "But I am so healthy and strong, mamma," 
 said Ellen, whose enthusiasm did indeed, for the 
 moment, make her feel a very giant in strength ; 
 " and if I undertake the work at all, I must not 
 falter before every little difficulty." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering smiled faintly, and desired 
 her daughter to return to their guest, who, after 
 partaking of a substantial luncheon, shook 
 hands with her new disciple and colleague, and 
 appointed eleven o'clock on the following 
 morning for Ellen to be at the vicarage.
 
 126 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 There was enough of novelty, if not of posi- 
 tive interest, in that first long expedition with 
 Miss Glossop, to make Ellen unmindful of 
 the fatigue with which it was necessarily at- 
 tended. The people she was taken to visit, 
 received her for the most part very well, not 
 only because she was the squire's daughter, and 
 the squire was always liberal to them, but be- 
 cause her pretty, smiling face formed a pleasing 
 contrast to the harsh physiognomy and ungra- 
 cious manners of the lady who for so many 
 years had come in and out amongst them, to
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 127 
 
 judge both of their temporal and spiritual ne- 
 cessities. 
 
 The district Miss Veronica proposed assign- 
 ing to her young friend, lay a little beyond the 
 village, the farthest cottage being nearly two 
 miles from the Manor House, and situated at 
 the extremity of a somewhat bleak and lonely 
 common ; but Ellen declared that she did not 
 mind this in the least, that the walk would do 
 her good, and that when the spring came on, it 
 would even be very agreeable. 
 
 " I am glad it suits you," said Miss Glossop, 
 with her usual shortness, " but I should recom- 
 mend you to let your mind dwell more on the 
 duty and necessity of the work, than upon its 
 pleasantness. You will go your rounds twice a 
 week regularly, find out what is really wanted, 
 in the way of food for the sick, and clothing for 
 the children ; read to those who will listen to you 
 from the books I shall give you, and impress 
 upon all their minds, the imperative duty of
 
 128 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 coming, at least once a day, to the parish 
 church.' ' 
 
 " 1 understand so far, and will endeavour to 
 do it all faithfully. — And then about the 
 schools ?" 
 
 " You must devote a couple of hours to the 
 teaching department every morning — but this 
 is very easy, as it only includes reading, writing, 
 ciphering, and plain needlework, and I am al- 
 ways there to superintend everything." 
 
 " I hope I shall be able to please you." 
 
 " I hope so too, for you know what is said 
 about people putting their hand to the plough 
 and looking back. I must have no looking 
 back, on the part of Ellen Clavering." 
 
 Poor Ellen ! she had but a weak heart and 
 a feeble purpose, after all ; and there was some- 
 thing in Miss Veronica that filled her at times 
 with a strange nervousness, and made her 
 doubt whether she had done wisely in so readily 
 accepting the task proposed.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 129 
 
 Mrs. Clavering came down to dinner that day 
 for the first time since her illness ; and she it 
 was, who remarked that Ellen looked quite 
 worn out, and ate scarcely anything. The 
 father and brother were then informed of the 
 new duties she had undertaken, and while Mr. 
 Clavering only laughed, and said he should 
 never have suspected his foolish Nelly of a taste 
 for such dry work, Maurice looked grave and 
 unusually interested, a fact that did not escape 
 his sister's observation. 
 
 " Ellen," he said, as they sat together with 
 their books by the fireside in the evening, 
 (while the father and the mother played their 
 usual game at chess) — " what is it you are 
 going to teach the poor people you have under- 
 taken to visit ?" 
 
 " I scarcely know yet," she replied, much 
 surprised at his question ; " but Miss Veronica 
 is to initiate me fully into the nature of my 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 duties, and of course, I shall try to do my 
 best." 
 
 " I am sure of that, but you must not forget 
 that a very solemn responsibility rests upon 
 all who attempt to instruct others in spiri- 
 tual things. The first great point, is to be 
 sure that we have been well taught our- 
 selves." 
 
 Ellen's wide open eyes alone expressed the 
 utter astonishment she felt at her brother's un- 
 expected observations, but meeting only a stead- 
 fast, anxious look in return, she replied pre- 
 sently — 
 
 " I know I am dreadfully ignorant, Maurice, 
 but Miss Veronica is willing to take me as I am, 
 and from what she says, I imagine my part will 
 be to attend more to the temporal than to the 
 spiritual wants of these people." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; and in this case no harm can 
 be done, by you, at least, and it may be that by 
 and bye — "
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 131 
 
 He stopped suddenly, and his fair, youthful 
 face crimsoned all over. 
 
 " Forgive me, Ellen, for having seemed to 
 interfere with your occupations. I have no right 
 in the world to do so — only I should have liked 
 you to set out upon any scheme of usefulness 
 with a better and a truer guide than Miss 
 Glossop." 
 
 " You do not like her, Maurice ?" 
 
 11 That is not it. My liking or disliking her 
 would be a matter of little importance, but we 
 are disturbing the chess-players by our gossip- 
 ing. When you have been a worker amongst 
 the poor for a few weeks, we will, if you care 
 about it, speak on this subject again." 
 
 As Maurice returned to the quiet perusal of 
 his book, Ellen knew that he would not talk 
 any more now ; but he had given her a good 
 deal to think of, and she fully resolved to keep 
 him to his promise at the end of the stipulated 
 time. 
 
 K 2
 
 132 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 Was it possible that the mot d y enic/me of 
 Maurice's strange abstraction and reserve had 
 anything to do with those profound convictions 
 of religion, concerning which Nelly had once in 
 her life heard and thought so much, and which 
 assuredly seemed (as far as she could judge at 
 present) to have no part in the teaching of her 
 new instructress ? 
 
 Full of this novel and interesting idea, Ellen 
 began her work with much less zest on the 
 following morning : she found the two hours in 
 the village school-room sufficiently wearisome, 
 especially as Miss Veronica's eye was constantly 
 on her, and said as plainly as eye could speak, 
 " Let there be no faltering or turning back- 
 see how / am working." 
 
 And this was true enough ; but then she 
 was a strong, iron-sinewed, leather-hearted 
 woman, who had no sympathy with childhood's 
 restlessness and short-comings, who felt that 
 she was earning a heaven that yet came little into
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 133 
 
 her thoughts, by all these supernatural exertions, 
 and who, moreover, had everything her own 
 way throughout nearly the whole parish, living 
 and fattening upon the wide-spread renown she 
 had acquired during so many years of labour. 
 
 It was with the bait of making her really 
 useful and important, that this energetic lady 
 had lured Ellen Clavering into her net ; but once 
 safely ensnared, the young girl must be taught 
 to assume her proper position of entire and 
 blind obedience to her directress ; and any at- 
 tempt to follow the dictates of her own judg- 
 ment, must be at once put down, as an unheard- 
 of and most sinful presumption. 
 
 Fortunately for Miss Glossop, Ellen was so im- 
 pressed with her own entire ignorance, that in the 
 beginning it seemed only natural to her to be 
 schooled and lessoned like a child ; but though 
 she recognized the justice of this treatment, 
 it detracted materially from the charm of 
 her labours, and during the first week she
 
 134 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 derived no other satisfaction from them, than 
 that afforded by the manifest pleasure her visits 
 gave to the poverty-stricken families she went 
 amongst. For, unlike Miss Veronica, (who had 
 no idea of luxuries for the poor, unless they 
 were sick or dying) Ellen never went empty- 
 handed; and many a heavy eye learned to 
 brighten as that young, fair face appeared on the 
 threshold ; and many a querulous voice softened 
 as she gathered the children of the house around 
 her, and divided between them their share of 
 what she had brought in her little basket. 
 
 So far, all was well ; and Ellen felt too 
 happy in the real pleasure she was able to be- 
 stow on these occasions, to mind very much the 
 tedious school-room duties, or Miss Veronica's 
 still more tedious instructions to herself; but 
 there came a time when her eagerly-welcomed 
 little offerings were discovered by the Argus eyes 
 of her inexorable chief, and she was forbidden, in 
 the most uncompromising terms, to continue 
 such an unwise and dangerous system.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 135 
 
 Of course, Ellen had no choice but to obey ; 
 but the great interest of her visits was gone, 
 for these poor people were made of flesh and 
 blood ; and when they found that instead of 
 bread and cheese, and tea and sugar, they had 
 to accept a few timidly-uttered precepts as to 
 their religious duties, or to listen to some dry 
 book of Miss Glossop's choosing, they ceased to 
 welcome Nelly's arrival, and even sometimes 
 gave her cross looks and cold answers for the 
 smiles and kind words of which she was still 
 most lavish. The children alone still clung to 
 her, as, having received no distinct prohibition 
 concerning them, she made a point of filling her 
 pocket with sugar-plums or oranges, or any- 
 thing else that she could procure, in this way to 
 bring smiles upon the little rosy lips that other- 
 wise found few occasions for smiling. 
 
 In more than one respect all this was useful 
 to Ellen ; it gave her an insight into human 
 nature, that she might never, but for her present
 
 136 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 employment, have gained; it taught her that 
 life has greater trials than those which, in her 
 luxurious home, she had so lately been mourning 
 over, and it convinced her also, that these poor 
 people, in common with herself, lacked some- 
 thing to raise and purify their natures, that nei- 
 ther constant attendance at the parish-church 
 nor all Miss Glossop's indefatigable teaching 
 could give them. 
 
 Perhaps, the frequent dwelling on this 
 thought, in the quiet monotony of her unevent- 
 ful life, might have brought forth, even then, 
 some great and desirable result, had not a 
 sudden turning in her hitherto feneed and 
 guarded path, opened to Nelly's startled view a 
 prospect so alluring, that the easily dazzled ima- 
 gination became intoxicated with the sight, and 
 reason, conscience, judgment, with all their 
 worthy sisterhood, were for the time impe- 
 ratively hushed to sleep.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 137 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 It presented itself at first in the shape of a 
 young man with a gun, leaning against the gate 
 of a little copse that Ellen had to pass every 
 time she went to the cottage beyond the 
 common. This walk was in general so entirely 
 solitary, that the apparition of a stray duck, or 
 of a wandering animal of any kind, would 
 certainly have been a matter of some interest ; 
 and it was therefore not only natural, but in- 
 evitable under the circumstances, that Ellen 
 should wonder excessively at finding a young 
 man, evidently belonging to the educated
 
 138 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 classes of society, standing alone in such an 
 unfrequented place, and with apparently no 
 other purpose than that of gazing intently 
 down the road she had to traverse. 
 
 Of course, when she drew near the gate that 
 served him for a support, Ellen turned her head 
 in an opposite direction, and feigned to be look- 
 ing at some imaginary object in the distance ; 
 but for all this she had an intuitive conscious- 
 ness that the stranger's eyes were fixed sted- 
 fastly upon herself, and her cheek became 
 redder than even the keen frosty air had already 
 made it. 
 
 Her visit this day was longer than usual, and 
 on her return across the common the interesting 
 apparition had vanished. She did not mention 
 the circumstance at home, because she thought 
 it just possible that her father might forbid her 
 walking that lonely road, if he knew that there 
 were strangers in the neighbourhood ; and Ellen 
 had no desire to give up either the tribe of
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 139 
 
 chubbv little children who devoured her sweet- 
 meats, and clapped their dirty hands when they 
 saw her coming, or yet the remote chance of 
 having the shadow of an adventure to talk 
 about in her next letter to Norah Kennedy. 
 
 It promised, indeed, to become something 
 more than a shadow, when the next time, and the 
 next again, and at length on every occasion, 
 that she had to go past the little gate, the young 
 man was still found there, always with his gun, 
 and sometimes with a large spotted dog, that 
 at first barked furiously whenever Ellen ap- 
 proached, but finally only stood and wagged 
 his tail, and gave unmistakeable evidence of 
 recognizing her as a friend whom he might 
 trust and patronize. The stranger had arrived 
 now at the point of taking off his cap (which 
 was bound with fur, and excessively becoming) 
 whenever Ellen passed him ; but the distant and 
 rather haughty manner in which she returned 
 these salutations, was not encouraging to his
 
 140 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 hopes, if he had any, of getting on more 
 familiar terms with the object of his un- 
 equivocal admiration. 
 
 And yet, if truth must be told, Ellen Claver- 
 ing had grown fully as much interested in these 
 silent and oft-repeated meetings as the young 
 man himself could be. It was just the sort of 
 thing to strike her romantic and undisciplined 
 imagination, which had very soon invested the 
 unknown with every attribute calculated to 
 charm and captivate the most fastidious. He 
 was good-looking — there was no denying that — 
 and distinguished, too, by an air of unquestion- 
 able refinement ; but his heart, mind, intellect, 
 temper, and character generally, were necessarily 
 at present of Ellen's sole fabrication, and it was 
 therefore not surprising that she should fall in 
 love with her own finished creation. 
 
 Nor was it any the more surprising, that in 
 the midst of this new and absorbing interest, 
 rendered doubly attractive by the mystery and
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 141 
 
 secrecy surrounding it, that Ellen should forget 
 to remind Maurice of his offer of speaking 
 again to her on the subject of her district 
 visiting. Many weeks had gone by now, and 
 her brother had purposely afforded her several 
 chances of recurring to the conversation they 
 had held together on that first evening, but 
 poor Nelly was preoccupied with far other 
 thoughts and visions, and her good angel slept 
 while she let the golden opportunities pass by. 
 
 Miss Veronica, in the meanwhile, was tole- 
 rably satisfied with her pupil and assistant ; for 
 although Ellen's mind sometimes wandered 
 strangely, when it ought to have been fixed on 
 the pothooks, or the samplers of the village 
 children ; she never opposed a single plan or 
 suggestion of her directress, nor offered an 
 opinion of her own on any matter connected 
 with their joint labours. 
 
 As for Mr. and Mrs. Clavering, they were 
 both pleased to see that their daughter's languor
 
 142 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 and indifference were fast melting away in the 
 apparently genial sunshine of her new and 
 active duties; and they felt sincere gratitude 
 towards Miss Veronica, for having associated 
 Ellen with herself in occupations so evidently 
 healthy and interesting. The mother especially, 
 because she had a keener observation, often 
 wished ardently that something would be thought 
 of to act with an equally salutary influence on 
 Maurice, whose increasing delicacy, and shrink- 
 ing from all society and exertion, filled her with 
 anxiety, and many vague but tormenting ap- 
 prehensions. 
 
 Mrs. Clavering was far from being in good 
 health herself, and the doctor recommending 
 frequent walking exercise, she occasionally ac- 
 companied Ellen a short distance, when the 
 visiting rounds of the latter lay in the direction 
 of the open country. 
 
 It was now about the middle of March, and 
 after more than a week of incessant rain, there
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 143 
 
 came a few days of warm, bright sunshine, 
 sufficiently tempting to lure everybody from the 
 house, and to make them long for the actual 
 arrival of the ever-welcome spring, with its 
 gifts of flowers and rainbows. 
 
 " I should think," said Mrs. Clavering, as 
 she put on her bonnet, to walk her usual quarter 
 of a mile with her daughter, " that there would 
 be primroses out in the copse to-day, Nelly. 
 If I can get so far, I will at least go in and 
 look ; for I have quite a sick person's fancy for 
 a bunch of wild flowers." 
 
 Ellen's heart beat quickly at this unexpected 
 suggestion. Her unknown friend would cer- 
 tainly be at his post, and the least that could 
 happen would be the necessity of her acknow- 
 ledging how often she had seen him before. 
 This would be both embarrassing and humiliat- 
 ing — it would make her appear sly, and, per- 
 haps, even indelicate in her mother's eyes ; for 
 the first time since the beginning of her ad- 
 venture, Ellen was conscious that she had acted
 
 144 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 wrongly and unbecomingly. It is, indeed, no 
 uncommon thing for persons to pursue an im- 
 proper course of conduct without a single qualm 
 of conscience, until the moment when the fear 
 of detection suddenly presents itself to them, 
 and they see with other and clearer eyes than 
 their own. 
 
 But although Ellen was annoyed and uncom- 
 fortable in no trivial degree, she never thought 
 of opposing her mother's intention, for this 
 would have involved some further deceit, and 
 there was a right, pure principle at the bottom 
 of her heart after all. 
 
 So they walked side by side talking of indif- 
 ferent things — not with much animation on 
 Ellen's part — until they came in sight of the 
 copse, when, to the immense relief of the younger 
 lady, she saw that the stranger w T as not there. 
 
 " Shall I come in with you, mamma, to look 
 for the primroses ?" she asked, as Mrs. Claver- 
 ing stood to rest for a moment against the 
 little gate so familiar to her daughter.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 145 
 
 " No, my love — go on to your cottage, and 
 if you can manage to make a short visit, per- 
 haps you may find me here on your re- 
 turn. " 
 
 And Ellen silently obeyed, wondering, and 
 a little anxious (now that her first satisfaction 
 had passed away) at the non-appearance of her 
 hero, and too much pre-occupied with this 
 thought to pay very great attention to the poor 
 woman's complaints concerning her husband's 
 sudden illness, and the impossibility of his going 
 to his work for several days to come. 
 
 Of course, Ellen heard it all, and promised 
 readily and gladly to send tea and arrowroot 
 and whatever else might be wanted on the 
 following day — but her sympathies were not 
 aroused, as they would have been but for this 
 unfortunate preoccupation of heart and mind; 
 and the woman, who was really anxious and 
 unhappy, turned away disappointed and irritated 
 from the soft voice and words which wanted 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 just then the only element that could make 
 them of any efficacy. 
 
 Ellen's absence had been but short, consider- 
 ing the distance between the copse and the 
 cottage, but Mrs. Clavering was gone when 
 her daughter returned, and the place looked 
 more dreary and desolate than it had ever done 
 before. 
 
 Grieved to think that the invalid should have 
 had to walk home alone, Ellen quickened her 
 steps, and was not long in reaching the manor. 
 
 Meeting a servant in the hall, she asked 
 immediately for her mother, and, on being told 
 that she was in the drawing room, hurried thi- 
 ther, prepared to express her sincere regrets that 
 she should not have made more haste to rejoin 
 her in the copse. 
 
 The words of affectionate and dutiful apology 
 died, however, upon her lips, which became pale 
 from surprise and excitement, when, seated 
 beside Mrs. Clavering on the sofa, and appa-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 147 
 
 rently chatting familiarly with her she saw the 
 stranger of the copse, the young man who by 
 his unspoken admiration had forced an entrance 
 into her foolish and romantic heart, and absorb- 
 ed for the time at least all other healthier and 
 more natural feelings. 
 
 The spotted dog too was stretched at full 
 length upon the hearthrug, basking contentedly 
 in the warmth of a glowing fire, and looking 
 almost as happy as his master in the new quar- 
 ters to which they had been admitted. 
 
 " My daughter Ellen," said Mrs. Clavering, , 
 as the startled girl stopped abruptly on the 
 threshold. " Mr. Willand, my love, a gentle- 
 man who has been so good as to accompany me 
 home, because I was silly enough to feel rather 
 faint from an alarm that pretty creature on the 
 rug occasioned me." 
 
 Ellen bowed, without daring to meet the 
 stranger's eyes, and seeing her really painful 
 embarrassment, which she could only attribute 
 
 l 2
 
 148 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 to a school-girl's shyness, Mrs. Clavering con- 
 tinued — 
 
 " I was stooping down between some of the 
 thickest trees in the copse, to gather the one 
 solitary primrose that I found in bloom, when 
 suddenly I felt two heavy paws laid familiarly 
 and unceremoniously upon my shoulders, and 
 too frightened to scream or move, I remained 
 panic-bound in my most uncomfortable position 
 (not even knowing what or who my enemy was) 
 until this gentleman arrived, and relieved me of 
 so unwelcome a companion. It was foolish in 
 the extreme to be so alarmed, but my nerves 
 are weak just now, and indeed I cannot any 
 longer regret it (turning with a gracious smile 
 to Mr. Willand), since it has procured us the 
 pleasure of a new acquaintance." 
 
 Ellen had recovered her composure now, and 
 was returning the affectionate greeting of her 
 old friend on the hearthrug, (without considering 
 that his evident recognition of her might excite
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 149 
 
 her mother's suspicions) , when the latter said 
 again — 
 
 " Go and take off your walking dress, my 
 love, as I am sure you must be tired. I have 
 sent for your father, and I hope when he comes 
 we shall be able to persuade Mr. Willand to 
 stay and have some luncheon with us." 
 
 Ellen just lingered to hear the stranger's 
 voice, as he replied to the amiabilities of his 
 hostess ; and then, satisfied that it was no un- 
 worthy partner to the handsome face, she went 
 with a light step to her room, and spent some 
 few minutes in arranging the glossy ringlets, and 
 wondering whether her own face was really fair 
 enough to please and captivate Mr. Willand.
 
 150 TRIED IN THE £lRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 As a matter of course, Sydney Willand suffered 
 himself to be persuaded to remain to lunch, and 
 without very much difficulty succeeded in win- 
 ning the favourable opinion both of the master 
 and mistress of the manor. 
 
 The son did not, on this occasion, make his 
 appearance, and the daughter was seemingly 
 too much occupied in giving dainty morsels to 
 Spot under the table, to pay any great attention 
 to the conversation of Spot's master. 
 
 All that this young gentleman chose to com- 
 municate concerning his own antecedents was
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 15 1 
 
 that he had left his parents in Scotland, enjoying 
 the princely hospitalities of an old friend of the 
 family, and had come to bury himself in this 
 remote village, (which he had hit upon quite by 
 accident), for the sake of reading and studying 
 for some profession that should make him in- 
 dependent of his relations. What this pro- 
 fession was to be, he confessed he had not yet 
 determined ; but he had brought with him a 
 very heterogeneous library, consisting of the 
 best works on law, divinity, and physic. All 
 these he kept on shelves in his bedroom at the 
 remote farm house, and in the meanwhile re- 
 freshed his memory, and kept his imagination 
 from starving by the re-perusal of Byron, Shelley, 
 Moore, and such like useful authors. 
 
 Mr. Clavering thought he was doing his new 
 ucquaintance a real kindness w T hen he recom- 
 mended him to lay aside his poetry, and come 
 and gain a little knowledge of practical farming. 
 It never for a moment occurred to this matter
 
 152 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 of fact, straightforward-man, that he was at the 
 same time providing a most undesirable com- 
 panion for his romantic daughter. 
 
 It is true, a great part of the mischief had 
 been already done, but still as it was only the 
 imagination, and not the heart, that had become 
 intoxicated, Ellen might have awakened from 
 this first girlish dream on the departure of its 
 hero from the neighbourhood. But habits of 
 intimacy once established, daily intercourse per- 
 mitted, tastes and feelings compared and dwelt 
 upon, everything necessarily assumed a more 
 serious aspect ; and if the earnest, tender, true 
 woman's heart itself, was not effectually won, it 
 was at least attacked with so much skill, that all 
 its chords vibrated and trembled under the 
 assault, and to the thrilling sound they emitted, 
 Ellen Clavering's inexperience very naturally gave 
 the name of love. 
 
 As for Sydney Wiliand, he was fully per- 
 suaded in his own mind that this was to be the
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 153 
 
 one serious passion of his life. There were 
 reasons connected with his coming into the 
 neighbourhood that perhaps rendered his heart 
 (not much wiser or better disciplined than Ellen's 
 own) peculiarly susceptible just then, to the in- 
 fluence of attractions such as Ellen Clavering 
 possessed ; and like her, he had allowed his 
 imagination to dwell upon the slight romance 
 that surrounded their first introduction to each 
 other, until he was unalterably convinced that 
 no attachment had ever been so inevitable, or so 
 clearly pre-arranged, by the destinies that watch 
 over these particularly interesting episodes in 
 human life. 
 
 * # # # # 
 
 They were walking together one bright 
 morning in the very copse to which they fancied 
 they owed so much — by no means declared lovers 
 yet, but both perfectly conscious of what was
 
 154 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 going on in the other's heart. Sydney was bit- 
 terly lamenting the arrival of a letter from his 
 mother, requiring him to join the family in Lon- 
 don immediately, and Ellen was half choking 
 with the emotion the thought of this sudden 
 parting occasioned her, and wondering whether 
 it would much signify if, under these deplorable 
 circumstances, she gave up her visit to the cot- 
 tage for this one day. True, poor Joe Hersham, 
 the sick husband, had been getting worse for 
 the last fortnight, and she had promised to come 
 and read the Bible to him this morning — but 
 how could she read or talk with such a weight 
 upon her heart, and how could she resist Syd- 
 ney's earnest entreaties that she would not leave 
 him? 
 
 He had frequently shown great impatience al- 
 ready at the duties that so often deprived him 
 of Ellen's society, and consigned him during two 
 or three mortal hours to that of her cheerful, 
 active, energetic father ; but she had never yet
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 155 
 
 evaded a single visit either to cottage or school- 
 room ; and surely there could be no great harm 
 in her present omission, on the eve of losing a 
 friend who would take all the sunshine of her 
 life away with him. 
 
 " And when must you positively go ¥' she 
 asked at length, after announcing her intention 
 of not proceeding to the cottage. 
 
 " In three or four days, I suppose," he an- 
 swered dejectedly — "but unless confined by 
 stronger bolts and bars than any that have yet 
 been forged, depend upon it I shall soon be 
 back again." 
 
 "I don't believe you will," said Ellen, on 
 whose easily excited mind a thousand shadows 
 were gathering. " I am sure indeed that you 
 will not ; and when I say good-bye to you, it will 
 be with the firm conviction that it is for ever." 
 
 " Ellen," said the young man suddenly and 
 passionately — " let me ask you one thing — do 
 you believe that I love you ?"
 
 156 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 Ellen was totally unprepared for this, and she 
 trembled visibly under his earnest, questioning 
 gaze. 
 
 " Speak !" he said again. " It is time that 
 we understood each other. Do you believe that 
 I love you ? 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I am glad. And do you love me ?" 
 
 Deeper and more painful blushes dyed the 
 young girl's cheeks at this second enquiry ; but 
 the ice had been broken, and the dreaded parting 
 was in view — so the simple affirmative was 
 again timidly whispered, and Ellen felt, as every 
 true and pure woman must feel under similar 
 circumstances, that her life's destiny was sealed. 
 
 That destiny which she had thought and 
 dreamt about so long and so often, that it* 
 reality appeared scarcely less dreamlike than the 
 bright ideal visions which had charmed all he* 
 girlhood ! 
 
 And this at least was not the moment to ask
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 157 
 
 herself whether the actual, living, breathing lover 
 walking beside her, answered fully to the shadowy 
 prototype on whose mental portrait all the riches 
 
 of her vivid imagination had so enthusiastically 
 expended themselves. 
 
 " My own Ellen/' said Sydney, in reply to his 
 companion's frank, though blushing confession 
 of attachment — " how shall I ever prove myself 
 worthy of your generous and trusting affection ? 
 but we are engaged now, are we not ? and no 
 obstacles and no opposition can ever divide us, 
 as long as we are true to each other." 
 
 Ellen was trembling excessively under the 
 many and varied emotions excited by her novel 
 position ; and as she did not speak, Sydney 
 went on. 
 
 " I ought to tell you something more about 
 my family and myself. I wish to have no se- 
 crets from you, Ellen ; either now or hereafter. 
 We come of a rather ancient race, and this 
 honour has been dinned into my ears so long —
 
 158 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 since I was in arms, I believe — that I have not 
 only ceased to be charmed by it, but actually 
 arrived at the point of being exceedingly bored 
 whenever the threadbare subject is alluded to. 
 The real and tangible honours of the family, 
 consisting of a fine estate and six thousand 
 a year, descend to my elder brother, who has 
 made a marriage highly satisfactory to his rela- 
 tives, and is basking in the full sunshine of 
 uninterrupted prosperity. 
 
 " To make amends for my own lackland con- 
 dition, my father and mother, some years ago, 
 were good enough to fix upon a young lady, a 
 sort of cousin I am told, whose large fortune 
 and unexceptionable birth promised all that they 
 could require in a wife for their second son. 
 This girl, like yourself, has been educated abroad 
 — I never had the curiosity to ask where — and 
 on her return to this country — a finished per- 
 fection of course — the nice little plan was sud- 
 denly revealed to me.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE: 159 
 
 "At first I only laughed at the idea, and 
 begged for an introduction to my future bride, 
 whose family, with our own, were invited, at 
 the beginning of the winter, to the place in 
 Scotland I have before named to you. Well, 
 we met, in a crowd, too, it certainly was, and 
 my heart was not even conscious of a single 
 quickened pulsation. 
 
 " To speak seriously, Ellen, I felt the moment 
 I first beheld my handsome cousin, that it would 
 be utterly impossible for me ever to love or 
 marry her. I told my mother so without loss 
 of time, and the next day had a stormy scene 
 with my father, who declared his resolution of 
 never giving me a penny unless I married this 
 young lady. I answered respectfully but firmly 
 that the thing was out of the question, and 
 thereupon commenced a series of petty persecu- 
 tions and annoyances which my spirit was not 
 meek enough to endure. I left them all ab- 
 ruptly in the midst of their festivities, wrote to
 
 160 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 a friend in London to purchase me the books I 
 meant to study, and found my way, or rather 
 was guided by my good angel to this unknown 
 village, where I have first tasted the only golden 
 fruit that our barren w T orld is capable of pro- 
 ducing. Now you have heard all my story, 
 Nelly ; and we must talk, and think, and plan 
 together concerning that future, which, what- 
 ever else it does, must never, never separate 
 us." 
 
 " And yet," — said Ellen, who had listened with 
 the deepest interest to her friend's recital — " there 
 appear to be innumerable obstacles that will in- 
 terfere with the accomplishment of this desire. 
 We are not rich, though I believe my father's 
 family is an ancient one, and there is little chance 
 of my being considered by your relatives a fitting 
 wife for you." 
 
 " But I shall make myself independent of 
 them, Nelly. I shall have a profession of some 
 sort. What will the hardest work be, with such
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 161 
 
 a reward in store ? And then if your family 
 consent, all will be well." 
 
 " I don't think my family would consent if 
 yours did not," said Ellen, a little natural pride 
 at the thought of being disdained by any one 
 belonging to the man for whom she had just 
 confessed an attachment, giving a slight asperity 
 to her voice, " and indeed such an objection on 
 their part would place me in a position I have 
 never contemplated occupying." 
 
 " You do not love me, Ellen," exclaimed Syd- 
 ney, in tones of unfeigned despondency ; " real 
 love is wholly engrossing, and triumphs over the 
 most inveterate pride. I have given you all my 
 heart, and received but a fraction of yours in 
 return. How can I hope that in absence, and 
 through obstacles, you will remain true to me, 
 with such a reasoning and imperfect attachment 
 as my only guarantee ?" 
 
 Ellen felt at that moment that they did not 
 
 vol. I. M
 
 162 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 in truth stand upon equal ground ; but still, 
 believing her own affection real and sincere, she 
 replied, warmly — 
 
 " You are doing me cruel injustice, Sydney. 
 I am as capable of constancy as you can be, and 
 one day you shall acknowledge it, come what 
 may. Do not let us speak any more of your 
 family now — perhaps they may be better dis- 
 posed towards me than we have imagined ; and 
 there is no wisdom in anticipating troubles, es- 
 pecially with such a bitter one close at hand." 
 
 " True, my dearest," said Sydney, restored to 
 his original confidence by this tender allusion to 
 their parting — " the present is indeed enough to 
 think of for the moment — we will speak only of 
 ourselves, and of that love which, for me at least, 
 will be the one bright star to illumine all my 
 future life." 
 
 This was Ellen Clavering's first love scene,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 163 
 
 and this the living hero who was henceforth to 
 replace the visionary being who had moved in 
 soft, shadow-like mysteriousness through her 
 rainbow-coloured dreams. 
 
 M 2
 
 164 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 To atone for her neglect of the preceding day, 
 Ellen determined to go to Joe Hersham's cot- 
 tage immediately after breakfast on the follow- 
 ing morning. Sydney had promised to be at 
 the manor early, to speak to Mr. Clavering of 
 his attachment to his daughter, and of the hopes 
 she had permitted him to entertain. If the 
 father's answer were favourable, as they both 
 confidently anticipated, Sydney would of course 
 be kept to dinner, and thus the lovers would 
 have nearly the whole day together ; a privilege 
 which Ellen knew she should enjoy infinitely
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 165 
 
 more, if conscious of having omitted no duty to 
 procure it. 
 
 The thought that most exclusively occupied 
 her mind, in walking across the lonely common 
 that bright spring morning, was concerning the 
 opinion Maurice would form of her hastily con- 
 tracted engagement. It has been before said 
 that Ellen held her incomprehensible brother in 
 the highest esteem, and that until her acquaint- 
 ance with Sydney Willand she had no wish so 
 strong as that of finding an entrance into this 
 brother's heart. Since the frequent coming of 4 
 the young stranger amongst them, Maurice had 
 been less seen in the family circle than ever, and 
 for some time past he had spent a portion of 
 nearly every day from home, a habit which 
 none of them were disposed to question or quar- 
 rel with, when they perceived how much better 
 and stronger he was beginning to look from 
 this out-of-door, though still, as they believed, 
 solitary life.
 
 166 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 Ellen had often watched his conduct and 
 manner to Sydney, and she had no reason to 
 suppose that he regarded him either with dislike 
 or prejudice ; but at the same time she had an 
 intuitive consciousness that he would be both 
 surprised and grieved to hear that she had suf- 
 fered her affections to be so easily won. 
 
 Absorbed in these reflections, and some 
 others growing out of them, Ellen arrived sooner 
 than she had expected at the cottage, and 
 was only roused from her intense preoccupation 
 of mind by the totally unlooked for apparition 
 of Miss "Veronica issuing from the low porch of 
 the isolated dwelling — 
 
 " Joe Hersham is dying/' was that lady's un- 
 ceremonious commencement, unprefaced by the 
 simplest greeting of courtesy. " You neglected 
 to go to them yesterday, or they might have 
 had a doctor in time to save him. I only 
 knew of his danger at eight o'clock this morn- 
 ing. "
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 167 
 
 Poor Ellen had grown so pale, and was trem- 
 bling so violently, that any attempt at justifying 
 herself would have been clearly ridiculous. She 
 stood silent, conscience-stricken, and miserable, 
 before her inexorable accuser and judge, who 
 rapidly continued: — 
 
 " I brought the doctor with me, and he says 
 the man has not twenty four hours to live. 
 There is no time to be lost if he is to have the 
 benefit of the church's prayers for the dying, 
 and to receive the holy Eucharist. If any of 
 those dissenters get about him, they will dis- 
 turb his last moments. I am going to fetch my 
 father as quickly as I can, and in the mean- 
 while you must go and sit with him, and keep 
 out everybody else. This is the only reparation 
 you can make for your strange neglect or for- 
 getfulness yesterday." 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, or bestowing a 
 second glance at the terrified and nearly sinking 
 girl beside her, Miss Veronica turned abruptly
 
 168 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 upon her heels, and was half over the common 
 hefore Ellen had recovered in any degree from 
 the shock she had received, or was able to con- 
 centrate her thoughts upon the serious matter 
 thus roughly presented to them. 
 
 But once thoroughly alive to it, there rushed 
 impetuously into Ellen's mind all the well-re- 
 membered though long quenched and disregard- 
 ed impressions of a time gone by, a time when 
 the better part of her nature had seemed to 
 awake out of some unnatural sleep, and to 
 struggle for an entrance into a truer, purer, 
 holier atmosphere than any it had hitherto 
 inhabited. As if by the magic touch of an en- 
 chanter's wand, came back, in all their freshness 
 and vividness, the lessons she had learned from 
 the lips of the one true and God-sent friend 
 her life had given her, and mingling with these 
 memories, or rather consequent upon them, was 
 the dread conviction that the soul of the man 
 dying a few yards from the spot where she
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 169 
 
 stood, was, humanly speaking, at the mercy of 
 those who were themselves utterly ignorant of 
 the gospel way of salvation. Ellen did not seri- 
 ously believe that her neglect in visiting the 
 cottage on the previous day could have had any 
 thing to do with the state he was now represent- 
 ed to be in — but she reproached herself bitterly 
 for her failure notwithstanding, remembering 
 that the last time she had been there, the sick 
 man had earnestly requested her to come again 
 soon, for the purpose of reading the Bible to 
 him. 
 
 Perhaps now he was too far gone to be able 
 to listen to the words of life, and if so, should 
 she not for ever have the weight of a lost soul 
 upon her guilty conscience ? 
 
 Crushed to the very earth by these miserable 
 reflections, Ellen felt it impossible just yet to 
 present herself before the poor dying creature 
 she had so injured ; and scarcely knowing what 
 she did, courting only utter solitude and the
 
 170 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 cool wind that flew upon her fevered cheek, she 
 walked on in a direction she had never before 
 taken, and which soon led her off the common 
 and into a quiet, lonely-looking road, quite un- 
 familiar to her, and bearing no traces of being 
 a public thoroughfare. 
 
 All interest in the road, however,' was speedily 
 put to flight, even her deep grief and anxiety 
 concerning Joe Hersham for the moment sus- 
 pended, when she saw passing out, through a 
 gate that belonged to a house half hidden in 
 trees, at the very end of the road, her brother 
 Maurice. 
 
 Long before she came up to him, Ellen had 
 sufficiently recovered from this new surprise to 
 be again absorbed in her former miserable 
 thoughts, and obeying a momentary impulse, as 
 her brother's gentle smile greeted her, she 
 caught his hand, and exclaimed, with tears fast 
 gathering in her eyes — 
 
 " Maurice ! a poor man is dying not far off,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 171 
 
 and they are coming to teach him wrong things 
 about his soul. I ought to have gone yesterday 
 to read the Bible to him, and I did not. Perhaps 
 it is too late now ; and even if it should not be, 
 I am so ignorant myself, that I dare not un- 
 dertake to teach him the truth. Oh ! Maurice, 
 I have thought sometimes that you know and 
 love it — can you, will you help me in my 
 distress ? There is no time to lose. Miss Ve- 
 ronica and her father will be back in an hour at 
 most, and then nobody else will be admitted." 
 
 In spite of the extreme agitation of Ellen's 
 own manner, she could not fail to remark the 
 impression her rapid explanation and request 
 produced upon her brother. He became pale 
 and red by turns, looked surprised, distressed, 
 and excited, in the space of a few minutes ; and 
 only when his sister paused, and was waiting 
 breathlessly for a reply, said, in a low, half- 
 hesitating voice —
 
 17*2 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " Take me to your cottage, Ellen, at once ; 
 we will see what we can do." 
 
 Without another word on either side, they 
 began to retrace their steps, and soon arrived, 
 both equally pale, grave, and pre-occupied, at 
 their destination. 
 
 The wife of the sick man was standing in 
 the doorway, wringing her hands, and crying 
 bitterly; the children were out playing some 
 distance along the common, whither their, 
 mother had sent them to watch for the return 
 of Miss Veronica and the minister — and Ellen, 
 without staying to bestow more than a look of 
 sympathy upon the unhappy woman, was passing 
 into the house in advance of her brother, when 
 Mrs. Hersham, with a keen, enquiring glance 
 at Maurice, stopped them both, and enquired of 
 the young lady who it was she had brought with 
 her? 
 
 " Only my brother," said the latter, annoyed 
 at the tone in which the question was put ; " he
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 173 
 
 will read and talk to poor Joe, until Mr. and 
 Miss Glossop arrive." 
 
 " Oh, well, if it's your brother, I s'pose its 
 all right, " replied the woman, giving place for 
 them to enter. " I didn't know but what you 
 might have fetched one of them dissenting folks, 
 as we've been so warned against, and if ever 
 Miss Veronica found I'd encouraged any of 'em 
 here, 'specially at such a time, (here the wife's 
 tears and sobs redoubled), she'd never help me 
 nor the childer in all our lives agin — and in an 
 hour or two may be I shall be a widder." 
 
 " Come in," said Ellen, with an appealing 
 glance at Maurice ; and in another minute they 
 were bo th standing beside the low, wretched- 
 looking bed of the dying man. 
 
 He was still perfectly sensible, but no one 
 who had ever seen death approaching, could 
 mistake the meaning of the signs he had already 
 imprinted upon that wan and wasted face. A 
 smile flitted for an instant over it as he recog-
 
 174 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 nized Ellen, (who held out her cold and trem- 
 bling hand to him), and he said, in a husky, 
 scarcely intelligible voice — 
 
 " Glad to see ye, miss, did not think last time 
 as how death was so near, but the Lord's will 
 be done !" 
 
 " Poor, poor Joe ! and I neglected to come 
 to you yesterday ; you had nobody to read the 
 Bible to you." 
 
 " No, miss, I hadn't, and to speak the truth, 
 I baint altogether comfortable-like at the thought 
 of dying, not that I've done much harm to my 
 neighbours that I know on — but — but — my 
 head's getting a bit weak you see, and I can't 
 put what I want into words. My missus tells 
 me to wait patient for the minister, and he'll 
 set me all right." 
 
 Another tearfully beseeching look from Ellen 
 to her brother, who, with a countenance that 
 seemed to have grown strangely calm and sted- 
 fast since he entered the cottage, came forward
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 175 
 
 now, and took his sister's place nearest to the 
 sufferer. 
 
 11 My friend," he said, in a voice of singular 
 sweetness and distinctness, " don't you know 
 and feel in this solemn hour that no minister on 
 earth, however learned, or however righteous, 
 can have power to set right that dread account 
 which stands between you and your offended 
 God ? Has not the Bible taught you that there 
 is only One who can accomplish this — One who 
 is neither man nor angel, but Jesus Christ, the 
 Saviour and the Friend of sinners ?" 
 
 " Oh ! sir," replied poor Joe, with a percep- 
 tible struggle to emerge from the mists that 
 seemed fast gathering over his mind, " you speak 
 for all the world like the good man I used to 
 hear preach down in the south when I was a lad 
 at work there. I had a'most forgotten what he 
 took such a sight of pains to teach me, but its 
 coming back like now, if only I wasn't so dizzy 
 in my poor head. I mind too, sir, as how he
 
 176 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 used to kneel and pray with us, not out of a 
 book like the parson here, but all so beautiful 
 and touching to the feelings, as if the Lord had 
 taught him. For all what my missus says, I 
 don't seem as how parson Glossop will do me 
 much good." 
 
 " Shall I pray with you now, Joe ?" asked 
 Maurice, bending to reach the sick man's ear, 
 and speaking with a tenderness that could not 
 fail to win its way to the heart of those who 
 heard. 
 
 " Aye, sir," was the faint answer, " and may 
 the Lord be merciful to a poor sinner who is in 
 sore need of mercy." 
 
 The wife, who had hitherto kept her post at 
 the door, now came, with her tear-stained face, 
 and eyes that suffering had made less meek than 
 rebellious, into the room. She did not kneel 
 with the other two, but stood with her arms 
 folded, gazing at her dying husband, and ap-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 177 
 
 parently wholly uninterested in what was going 
 on while Maurice prayed. And yet the prayer 
 'was earnest and importunate enough to have 
 aroused the attention of the most indifferent ; 
 it drew tears (of penitence we would hope) 
 from the eyes of him on whose behalf it was 
 offered up, and it made the astonished sister 
 hold her breath with surprise and awe, while 
 she felt as if standing on the confines of some 
 unknown and solemn world, whose golden gates 
 were open only to Maurice. 
 
 " May the Lord bless you, sir/' exclaimed 
 the man, when it was at length over, and the 
 brother and sister had resumed their original 
 posture. u I never thought to listen to a prayer 
 like that again. Them words come with power, 
 and bring hope even to a vile sinner such as 
 me." 
 
 " The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from 
 all sin" said Maurice, in a voice of indescri- 
 
 vol. i. n
 
 178 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 bable earnestness ; " let me leave you with this 
 precious text, and a fervent hope that if not 
 again in the present world, we shall meet before' 
 the throne in Heaven." 
 
 " Ah, you'd best be gone now," put in the 
 wife, harshly, and irreverently, "for I see the 
 childer running to say the parson's in sight — 
 and for all you be Miss Ellen's brother, I've a 
 notion you don't belong to our church, nor 
 teach like our parson or his daughter," 
 
 " Will you remain here, or come with me, 
 Ellen ?" asked Maurice, turning to his sister, 
 who seemed in truth scarcely able to stand. 
 
 " I will come with you," she replied eagerly, 
 " the fresh air will do me good ; and now Mr. 
 Glossop is so near, I can be of no further use 
 at the cottage." 
 
 They both lingered for a moment to shake 
 hands with poor Joe, paying little heed to the 
 fierce and unconcealed impatience of the wife ;
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 179 
 
 and then, with feelings utterly subdued, and 
 hearts filled with compassion, not unmingled 
 with hope for the dying man, left the house to- 
 gether. 
 
 N 2
 
 180 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 With a view of not meeting Mr. and Miss 
 Glossop, the brother and sister took the same 
 direction in quitting the cottage that Ellen had 
 taken after parting with Miss Veronica about 
 an hour before. For a few minutes they walked 
 on quickly, and without exchanging a word, 
 Maurice appearing too much absorbed by his 
 own thoughts to remember even that he had a 
 companion ; but at length Ellen's sensations of 
 increasing faintness made it impossible for her 
 to continue the pace at which they were going ; 
 and in a voice that seemed almost to apologize
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 18 I 
 
 for being ill, she asked her brother if she could 
 not sit down somewhere for a moment. 
 
 He turned round with all his anxieties imme- 
 diately awakened, and looked at his sister 
 earnestly. 
 
 " Why, you are as pale as a lily, Ellen, and I 
 have been making you walk at this cruel rate. 
 We will find a bank for you to rest upon di- 
 rectly — or stay, I could, perhaps, suggest a still 
 better plan, if you feel able to get a little farther, 
 leaning on my arm, and going very, very 
 slowly." 
 
 11 Yes, oh yes, I can do that," said Ellen, 
 whose fear of vexing or alarming this more 
 than ever beloved brother gave her a temporary 
 power to battle with her weakness ; " but what 
 is your suggestion, Maurice dear ?" 
 
 " That you should come to the house of some 
 friends of mine, who will be delighted to re- 
 ceive you, and to do what they can for you."
 
 182 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " The house at the end of the road where I 
 met you ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Ellen had far too high an esteem for her 
 brother to ask him a single question concerning 
 these friends of whose very existence she had 
 never till the present moment heard. That he 
 had chosen them, was more than a sufficient 
 guarantee for their worthiness ; and the mystery 
 attaching to the whole occurence invested it 
 with a charm in Ellen's eyes, which, in spite of 
 her intense physical and mental depression, she 
 did not fail to appreciate. 
 
 Maurice walked now so slowly, and supported 
 his sister so tenderly, asking her continually how 
 she felt, that Ellen had no difficulty in getting 
 to the house in question ; and had she not ar- 
 dently wished to find out who were the inmates, 
 it is possible that she might even have dispensed 
 with the necessity of claiming their hospitality 
 at all ; but she knew that her pale cheeks would
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 183 
 
 still plead as an apology for her intrusion, and 
 this might be the only opportunity that would 
 ever present itself for making acquaintance with 
 her brother's hidden friends. 
 
 A neatly dressed elderly woman replied to 
 Maurice's knock at the door, and, in answer to 
 his enquiry for her master, told them he had been 
 gone out about ten minutes, but that Miss Grace 
 was at home. 
 
 " Then I will bring my sister in," said Mau- 
 rice, speaking, Ellen thought, as if the house 
 and all its inmates were quite familiar to him ; 
 " she has had a long walk, and is not feeling 
 very well." 
 
 "This way, sir, please. I am sure Miss 
 Grace will be most happy to see the young lady. 
 I'll let her know directly." 
 
 They were shown into a plainly furnished 
 but exquisitely clean and tastefully arranged 
 little parlour, where recent feminine occupation 
 was apparent from a heap of work lying on the
 
 184 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 table, and a freshly gathered bunch of flowers, 
 evidently destined for the pretty white vase 
 standing beside them. There was also a canary 
 singing noisily, though sweetly, in a cage sus- 
 pended near the open window ; and altogether 
 Ellen felt justified, from the rapid observation 
 she was able to make, in forming a favourable 
 opinion of the Miss Grace, whose appearance 
 she was so anxiously expecting. 
 
 The only hope was that she would not turn 
 out, after all, to be an old maid like Miss Ve- 
 ronica — a fear that had suggested itself to her 
 mind as a second glance round the room showed 
 her that there was neither piano nor harp, nor 
 drawing materials — not even a stray novel or 
 volume of poetry to denote that the ordinary 
 occupant of the apartment was a young and 
 well-educated lady. 
 
 But at length, and just as she had arrived at 
 the determination of saying boldly to her silent 
 brother — " What is Miss Grace like ?" the door
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 185 
 
 opened softly, and Miss Grace herself came 
 in. 
 
 A quiet, insignificant-looking littlelady, dressed 
 in black, and with a strange timidity of manner, 
 that took from her whatever simple gracefulness 
 she might otherwise have possessed. 
 
 " My sister," said Maurice, rising and handing 
 his chair to the new comer. " Ellen dear, this is 
 Miss Arnold, whose kind hospitality I have ven- 
 tured to promise you until you have recovered 
 from your fatigue." 
 
 A very tolerable introduction for poor Maurice 
 to get through, considering that he was in reality 
 the most nervous of the whole party. 
 
 " I am very glad to see your sister," Miss 
 Arnold said, with a gentleness that quite made 
 amends for, if it did not conceal, her awkward 
 shyness. " Will you have a glass of wine, Miss 
 Clavering, and take off your bonnet and cloak ?" 
 
 " You are very good," replied Ellen, with her 
 most winning smile, " but I will only have a
 
 186 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 glass of water, and untie my bonnet for a minute 
 or two. I am really ashamed of intruding upon 
 you in this way." 
 
 " You are not intruding," said Grace, simply 
 and sincerely, and ringing the bell as she spoke. 
 " I am so vexed that my brother should have 
 gone out — he will be very sorry himself." 
 
 "Never mind," put in Maurice now — "we 
 have been fortunate in finding you at home. 
 My sister and myself come from the deathbed 
 of a poor man on the common." 
 
 Grace assumed the look and attitude of an 
 attentive and interested listener. 
 
 " It is one of the families that the vicar and 
 his daughter have so zealously guarded from 
 those whom they call the opponents of the 
 church. The wife, even now, is in terrible fear 
 lest she may ignorantly have admitted a dis- 
 senter beneath her roof. My sister has been 
 in the habit of visiting them for some time, 
 under Miss Glossop's orders, but this morning
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 187 
 
 she found the man dying, and took me in to 
 see him." 
 
 " That was right," said Grace, with a warmth 
 that made her look almost pretty — " and did 
 you succeed in awakening his attention ?" 
 
 " I hope so — he seems to have been well- 
 taught in his youth, and this is no inconsiderable 
 advantage. I feel pretty confident that he is at 
 least in no danger at this eleventh hour of being 
 misled by false doctrines." 
 
 Ellen was listening intently and with ever-in 
 creasing astonishment. She was sorry when 
 the entrance of the servant with the glass of 
 water she had asked for, interrupted the dialogue, 
 and turned the attention of both her companions 
 to herself again. 
 
 It was evident that her faintness was now 
 passing away, and Maurice seemed to wish to 
 draw her into the conversation. She began by 
 asking Miss Arnold how long she had been in
 
 188 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 the neighbourhood, if she did not find it dull, 
 &c, &c. 
 
 And Grace, getting a little more at her ease 
 now, replied that she had only been her brother's 
 guest about a month, that if the place agreed 
 with her health, which had never been strong, 
 she should probably remain with him altogether ; 
 and that so far from finding the neighbourhood 
 dull, she was delighted with it. 
 
 " Perhaps, if you feel better, you would like to 
 walk round the garden" — she added as Ellen 
 was thinking of what she could say next — " we 
 are very fond of our garden, and your brother 
 is indulgent enough to admire our flowers." 
 
 Ellen looked at Maurice, who coloured slightly 
 at this innocent observation of Miss Arnold's ; 
 and then the former, declaring she should be 
 very pleased to see the garden, they all three 
 went out together. 
 
 It was very simply but tastefully arranged, 
 combining both the useful and the ornamental,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 189 
 
 and the most prying eye might have sought 
 in vain for a weed or a loose pebble in 
 any of the quaintly shaped beds of bright 
 spring flowers that Grace evidently looked at so 
 lovingly. 
 
 " You have no doubt much finer and rarer 
 flowers than these at home, Miss Clavering," 
 she said modestly ; " but if you will accept a few 
 of mine, I shall be very glad to gather a bunch 
 for you. They are smelling so sweetly this 
 morning." 
 
 " Thank you," replied Ellen, " I shall prize 
 
 them excessively, I assure you : this sweet briar 
 
 is delicious, is it not, Maurice ?" 
 
 " Yes, I am going to steal a bit, if Miss 
 
 Arnold will permit me." 
 
 It was at Grace that he was looking now, but 
 
 Ellen was curious enough to steal a glance at 
 
 her face, as she gave the required permission ; 
 
 and this glance satisfied her that the quiet and 
 
 demure little stranger had no thoughts and no
 
 190 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 ideas that were calculated to brighten, even for 
 a passing moment, either cheek or eye. 
 
 This was all right at least, and disposed Ellen 
 to be even more gracious than before to her 
 kind young hostess ; but she had been thinking 
 for the last quarter of an hour that the time 
 was getting on, and that long ere she could 
 reach home, Sydney would be impatient at her 
 lengthened absence. 
 
 Turning, therefore, to Maurice, as Grace put 
 the bouquet she had been gathering into her 
 hand, Ellen suggested that they should take 
 leave of Miss Arnold, whose kindness, she added, 
 she should not easily forget. 
 
 " I have shown you no kindness," said Grace ; 
 " but if you think it worth your while to come 
 so far again, it will give me very great pleasure 
 to see you." 
 
 " I shall be sure to come, if only to serve as 
 your guide to my own home. Mamma will be 
 delighted to make your acquaintance."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 191 
 
 Grace coloured now, and looked really and 
 painfully embarrassed ; but Maurice came to 
 the rescue. 
 
 " Our friends," he said, addressing his sister, 
 " do not desire to go into society here. They 
 belong to a church which is proscribed and 
 shunned by those of their own class in this 
 neighbourhood, and even were it otherwise, I 
 believe their natural tastes, combined with the 
 severe trials they have gone through, would lead 
 them to prefer a life of perfect seclusion." 
 
 Ellen could only look concerned and sym- 
 pathetic, as she shook hands warmly with the 
 now pale and sorrowful-looking Grace, and 
 promised to pay another visit very soon to the 
 pretty garden and its mistress. 
 
 Maurice shook hands too, left a message for 
 Mr. Arnold, and then the brother and sister 
 went away together.
 
 192 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " My explanation shall not be tedious enough 
 to weary you, Ellen dear/' said Maurice, as soon 
 as they were in the open road. " I have long 
 intended to tell you everything, and the oc- 
 currences of this morning have only hastened 
 my purpose a little. The brother of the young 
 lady you have just seen has been my intimate 
 friend for the last eight or nine months, though, 
 until very recently, we have met but seldom. 
 The acquaintance commenced by my accidentally 
 going into his chapel (for he is a dissenting 
 minister) at a time when my mind was tossed
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 193 
 
 and agitated to the very verge of insanity, on 
 the subject of religion, a subject which I need 
 not tell you is entirely disregarded in our own 
 home, and obscurely and ignorantly treated by 
 the vicar of our parish. Mr. Arnold, I must 
 explain, is a man of extraordinary energy and 
 activity ; and these qualities, in which I myself 
 am so terribly deficient, united to earnest piety, 
 render him the very friend and counsellor I 
 have long required. At our first interview he 
 entered ' into all my doubts, difficulties, and 
 anxieties, anticipating rather what I had to re- 
 veal to him, than appearing shocked or as- 
 tonished by it. In this manner, I was led to 
 speak with perfect openness, and one by one he 
 cleared away my doubts, explained my difficulties, 
 and removed my anxieties with such skill and 
 tenderness, that I felt myself becoming not only 
 strongly attached to the individual, but to the 
 church of which he was a member and minister, 
 and to the doctrines which, clothed in the simple 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 194 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 garb of truth, had replaced in my mind the 
 vague and misty principles amongst which it 
 had hitherto groped in vain for one gleam of 
 daylight. Concerning these doctrines I should 
 like, if you will permit me, Ellen dear, to speak 
 to you fully at some future time ; but now I 
 must hasten to finish my story, if you are not 
 already tired of it." 
 
 " Oh, Maurice," said the sister, pressing his 
 arm affectionately, " if you only knew how 
 deeply interested I am in all that relates to you." 
 
 " And yet I have done little enough, Nelly 
 dear, to win your affection. I have allowed, 
 even in your case, a miserable cowardice to 
 triumph over my strong convictions of what was 
 right, and my earnest desire to teach you the 
 truth as it had been taught to me. To account 
 in some slight degree for my reluctance to come 
 forth boldly as a professor of religion, (although 
 I admit that cowardice and constitutional shy- 
 ness have had the most to do with it), I must
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 195 
 
 tell you, what, perhaps, you may have had no 
 opportunity of discovering, namely : that our 
 father has always had a rooted prejudice against 
 every class of dissenters. It is certainly more 
 a political than a religious feeling, but this only 
 renders it the stronger and less available. Like 
 hundreds of otherwise intelligent persons, he 
 holds the absurd and unjust idea that dissenter 
 is a name assumed by vulgar, canting hypocrites, 
 who seek, under the mask of a false piety, to 
 conceal all sorts of wickedness • and when a 
 man so thoroughly kind-hearted and philan- 
 thropic as our father does get hold of a prejudice, 
 or an aversion, it becomes a much more serious 
 thing than when manifested by an habitually 
 uncharitable individual. To give you any ade- 
 quate idea of what I have suffered, Ellen, since 
 I first became convinced that the open avowal 
 of my religious convictions was a solemn and 
 indispensable duty, would be impossible, for to 
 one of your frank and pliable disposition, the 
 
 o 2
 
 196 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 feeling would be simply incomprehensible ; but 
 the time has come when, if I would carry out 
 my long-cherished desire and purpose, I must 
 trample upon this unworthy reluctance, and de- 
 clare boldly whose I am, and whom I wish to 
 serve. It is much, very much, to have gained 
 your sympathy first, and I have only to regret 
 deeply and sincerely that I have been so long in 
 claiming it." 
 
 " Dear, dear Maurice! I am so happy to 
 understand you at last, and to hear you say 
 that I can be of some little comfort to you. 
 Oh, if I had known all this sooner, I 
 might " 
 
 Ellen hesitated, and the brother said anxious- 
 ly — " What might you have done, or left un- 
 done ? speak frankly, dear, for I deserve to suf- 
 fer for my unfaithfulness. " 
 
 " Oh," she replied, with a sudden resolution 
 not to speak to him yet of Sydney — " I might 
 have done many things, and amongst the rest
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 197 
 
 I might have told you of a friend I once had for 
 a brief period, who taught me to understand, at 
 least, what true religion is, and almost made 
 me love it as you do. " 
 
 " Indeed — and who was this friend, Nelly ?" 
 
 " A Mrs. Lane, who came to stay for awhile 
 at Madame Guillemar's. She was a widow, and 
 is home now, I believe, in London. " 
 
 " And why did you not seek to preserve her 
 friendship by correspondence ?" 
 
 " I ought to have done so, for she was most 
 anxious on the subject, but I had other friends 
 and companions around me, whose thoughts 
 and feelings did not coincide with hers — and so 
 I only answered two of her letters, and by 
 degrees she ceased to write. I have often regret- 
 ted it since. " 
 
 "Will you cultivate the acquaintance of 
 Grace Arnold ?" 
 
 " With pleasure, if no objection is made to it 
 at home — but now tell me, Maurice dear, what
 
 198 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 is that fixed purpose or desire to which you just 
 now alluded V 
 
 " To become a minister, Nelly. You will 
 perhaps think I am crazy, (with my terrible shy- 
 ness, and shrinking from publicity of every kind,) 
 to dream of such a vocation. Nevertheless I am 
 strongly impressed with the idea that it is the 
 path clearly marked out for me, and that enter- 
 ing upon it in faith and earnestness, I shall be 
 enabled to conquer those defects which nothing 
 hitherto has had any power in removing. I 
 know that this will be a bitter disappointment 
 to both my father and mother, and to the last I 
 fear a source of irritation as well as of regret — 
 but I can no longer delay opening my mind to 
 them, as I shall have to enter upon a course of 
 preparatory study in one of the nonconformist 
 colleges immediately." 
 
 " And leave me, Maurice dear ?" said Ellen, 
 with a sudden pang. 
 
 tt Only for a little while — I have already
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 199 
 
 made the most of my time ; and when once I 
 have a church and a home of my own, Nelly, 
 you shall come to me as often as you like." 
 
 " But it may be years and years before that 
 happens, and in the meanwhile so many things 
 may occur. " 
 
 "Yes dear; you may marry, for instance, 
 and cease to feel anything beyond the com- 
 monest interest in the brother whose vocation 
 and position will probably separate him entirely 
 from the rest of his family. " 
 
 " Not from me, Maurice, not from me. Oh 
 please never say again that you believe anything 
 could have power to make me love you less, or 
 feel one bit less interest in you than I do at 
 present." 
 
 " Thank you, Nelly. I would fain hope that 
 it will turn out as you now believe ; but while 
 we are together, let me ask you one more ques- 
 tion. Can you, if, as you tell me, you have been 
 taught to understand the truth of the gospel,
 
 200 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 continue to confine your instructions amongst 
 the poor, to the arbitrary rules laid down by 
 your present directress ?" 
 
 " I have never quite done so, except in the 
 schools, Maurice ; but the death-bed of poor 
 Joe has re-opened my eyes, and I shall give in 
 my dismission to Miss Veronica without delay." 
 " No, take time to consider it, Nelly ; and 
 when you do renounce your voluntarily- assumed 
 duties, have the courage to tell Miss Glossop 
 candidly your motives for doing so. I am sure 
 she suspects me of having gone over completely 
 to the enemy's camp, and on my head her in- 
 dignation will principally fall." 
 
 " I don't think, Maurice, I shall ever become 
 a dissenter, even if I could learn to give up all 
 for the sake of religion, as you have done." 
 
 " My dear sister, do not fancy for a moment 
 that I lay any stress upon dissent, considered 
 apart from the pure and simple piety with which 
 I, at least, have always seen it connected. If
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 201 
 
 your heart should ever be won to the truth of 
 the gospel, it will signify little, whether you 
 obey its holy precepts as a member of one 
 Christian church or another ; for we must nei- 
 ther of us imagine that all belonging to the 
 established church of our country, advocate such 
 erroneous doctrines, or teach so vaguely, and, I 
 may say, ignorantly, as the vicar of this parish." 
 
 " I have never been to a chapel in my life. 
 Will you take me once to hear your friend 
 preach ?" 
 
 " If you really desire it, but hitherto I have 
 rarely heard him myself, as my mother has al- 
 ways made such a point of my accompanying 
 her to the morning service in the church. Now 
 I shall give it up entirely." 
 
 " And when will you speak to them at 
 home ?" 
 
 " Perhaps to-morrow. I don't think I can 
 to-day."
 
 202 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 "No, do not let it be to-day, Maurice. I 
 will give you my reason another time." 
 
 " I am content to trust to its wisdom, Nelly. 
 And now I suppose we part till the evening." 
 
 " Yes, I fear so, that is, I may be wanted — 
 I don't quite know, but — but I should like to tell 
 you more by-and-bye, perhaps, this evening." 
 
 Ellen's confused and hesitating speech would 
 probably, even without her blushes, have re- 
 vealed something of the truth to her brother. 
 He pressed her hand warmly, said he had no 
 dearer wish than her happiness, looking very 
 grave though, as he spoke; and left her just 
 inside the hall-door of the Manor.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 203 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 On the table in her bed-room Ellen found a 
 letter in a hand-writing that had recently be- 
 come familiar to her, but which appearing there 
 just then, caused her unspeakable surprise, and 
 not a little apprehension. Sydney had never 
 addressed a line to her before, except in the 
 shape of sentimental poetry ; and what could 
 he have to write about now, unless her parents 
 had heard and rejected his suit ? This thought, 
 involving as it did, the idea that he might be 
 lost to her for ever, quickened all those feelings 
 which had in some measure slumbered during
 
 204 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 the exciting occurrences of the morning. It 
 was with nervous fingers and a flushing cheek 
 that the seal of the mysterious letter was at 
 length broken ; and Ellen's emotion in no de- 
 gree subsided as she made herself mistress of 
 its contents. A hurried explanation, a brief, 
 though mournfully tender farewell, was all, how- 
 ever, that she found. Sydney had received that 
 morning a telegraphic dispatch, announcing the 
 sudden and dangerous illness of his father, and 
 recommending his instant departure, if he 
 wished to see him alive. The young man only 
 added to this his earnest and passionate entreaty 
 that Ellen would remain true to him until he 
 could come and demand her of her parents, 
 which he still hoped to be able to do in a few 
 weeks at most. He had sent by the same mes- 
 senger who brought this letter, a verbal explana- 
 tion to Mr. and Mrs. Clavering, of his abrupt 
 departure from the neighburhood. 
 
 Ellen's first impulse on recovering a little
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 205 
 
 from the surprise this unlooked-for intelligence 
 occasioned her, was to lock her door and indulge 
 in a hearty fit of crying. For the last few 
 months, not many it is true, if accurately reck- 
 oned, Sydney and his enthusiastic affection had 
 been the one great interest of her life ; and in 
 losing him so abruptly, although the bond that 
 united them would still exist, she felt as if 
 there would pass out of her life something 
 that had become as essential to it as the air she 
 breathed. 
 
 Even Maurice, the dear brother, who had at 
 length claimed her sympathy and love, could 
 not just yet lessen in the slightest degree the 
 great void left in the poor heart. It must weep 
 out its new, and hitherto unknown grief, and 
 persist for a little while in believing that the 
 world had been mysteriously transformed into 
 a bleak desert, whereon not even the palest 
 flower could by any possibility grow. 
 
 In language infinitely more poetic, as well as
 
 206 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 more pathetic than this, Ellen Clavering that 
 same day opened all her heart to her faithful 
 friend Norah Kennedy. It was no small con- 
 solation to be able to give vent to the deep sor- 
 row she felt, by writing freely of it to one who 
 was certain to enter cordially and earnestly into 
 the matter, and to offer such advice as her own 
 clearer judgment and unselfish affection would 
 dictate. Hitherto Ellen had shrunk from speak- 
 ing of Sydney to her friend, because she had an 
 intuitive consciousness that Norah, in choosing 
 a husband for her, would exact far more positive 
 qualities, both of head and heart, than, with all 
 love's blindness, she could conscientiously attri- 
 bute to Sydney Willand. 
 
 And even now, in reading over the tolerably 
 faithful portrait she had drawn, Ellen was obliged 
 to confess that he came very little nearer to her 
 own ideal hero, than he would do to Norah 's 
 high and perhaps impossible standard. 
 
 But after all, what did it matter ? He loved
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 207 
 
 her deeply, and she loved him dearly. Few 
 men were actually worthy of being looked up 
 to, and venerated by their wives. It was surely 
 better to feel somewhat on an equality with one's 
 husband ; and if Norah was stupid and un- 
 reasonable enough to think otherwise, why, she 
 might keep her thoughts to herself, or, at any 
 rate, not expect that the warmest expression of 
 them could now be of any avail. 
 
 The very earnestness with which poor Ellen 
 sought to justify her choice to the friend who 
 had studied her so well, would alone have con- 
 vinced Norah that she mistrusted, in the secret 
 recesses of her heart, the wisdom of the engage- 
 ment into which she had so hastily entered. 
 
 Mrs. Clavering watched her daughter care- 
 fully and anxiously when they met in the after- 
 noon of that day. She could not but suspect 
 the attachment that had arisen between Ellen 
 and Sydney, and having caused her husband to 
 make every possible enquiry concerning the fa-
 
 208 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 mily and prospects of the young man, the 
 mother was tolerably satisfied as to the position 
 her daughter would occupy as his wife. Her 
 mind, indeed, was in a great measure relieved of 
 the load that had long been oppressing it on 
 Ellen's account, and she only regretted now that 
 Mr. Willand's abrupt departure had suspended 
 the open avowal of his sentiments, and the es- 
 tablishment of a formal engagement between 
 them. 
 
 Had Ellen been disposed to make a confidante 
 of her mother, nothing would more have grati- 
 fied Mrs. Clavering than to talk freely and un- 
 reservedly on the subject, but she could not 
 bring herself to open the matter, understanding, 
 as she did, so little of her daughter's heart; 
 and, on the other hand, Ellen fancied she had 
 many good reasons for keeping this, her first 
 secret, from the knowledge of her own family. 
 
 As for her present grief, in so abruptly losing 
 her friend, she felt no great difficulty in con-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 209 
 
 cealing it in public. The tears she had shed 
 over his farewell letter had softened the pain at 
 her heart, and in writing to Norah, her imagina- 
 tion had wandered into many fair and smiling 
 regions, and the strong principle of hope that was 
 implanted in her nature, had caused the future 
 to appear bathed in sufficient sunshine, to efface 
 the gloom and dulness of the immediate present. 
 
 And when, towards the evening, she had 
 grown sad and depressed again, there was Maurice 
 to talk to her of his friends across the common 
 and of poor Joe Hersham, and of his own firm 
 intention of breaking to their father the next 
 day the double fact of his being a dissenter, and 
 purposing to study for the ministry. 
 
 And so, with one help and another, Ellen got 
 through the first day of her desolation tolerably 
 well ; and when at length left alone for the night, 
 she was surprised herself to find that her brother, 
 with his hopes and fears, his earnest piety, and 
 his interesting puritan acquaintances, occupied 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 at least as much of her meditations as Sydney 
 Willand. 
 
 The next morning, immediately after break- 
 fast, not wishing to interfere in any way with 
 Maurice's disclosures, Ellen put on her bonnet 
 and walked down to the Vicarage, for the pur- 
 pose, first, of ascertaining whether poor Joe were 
 still alive, and, secondly, of communicating to 
 Miss Veronica her settled determination of re- 
 linquishing, for the present, the duties which she 
 had accepted with so much zeal and enthusiasm. 
 
 It was not altogether a pleasant mission — for 
 Ellen's fear of Miss Glossop had grown with 
 their intimacy, and she quite anticipated a stormy 
 and disagreeable scene. Nothing, indeed, but 
 her earnest conviction that she would be com- 
 mitting a sin in continuing under the guidance 
 of one who was still in darkness herself, could 
 have given courage for the task ; and even as 
 it was, Ellen felt her cheek flushing nervously 
 as she came in sight of the house, and she would
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 211 
 
 have given a great deal for the intervention of 
 any accident that might have prevented the ne- 
 cessity of the explanation that awaited her. 
 
 But none occurred ; and sitting in that dull, 
 old-fashioned parlour, in momentary expectation 
 of the entrance of its iron-willed mistress, the 
 poor girl experienced a more painful conscious- 
 ness of the weakness and nervelessness of her 
 own character than she had perhaps ever before 
 done. For often the veriest trifle will bring to 
 light defects or principles in our nature, of which 
 we have hitherto been entirely unaware. 
 
 At the same time, by a not improbable asso- 
 ciation of thought, Ellen was led to reflect that 
 strength of mind, and a perfect and unfaltering 
 self-dependence, were the first qualities she 
 should have sought in the man who was to be 
 the guide and helpmate of her future life. 
 
 But Miss Veronica was at hand, and every 
 merely personal subject of meditation must be 
 for the moment suspended. 
 
 p 2
 
 212 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " Good morning," she said, walking in and 
 shutting the door sharply and noisily after her, 
 " I suppose you know that Joe Hersham died 
 in the night, and that a fever, which we fear 
 is of a most infectious and fatal kind, has 
 broken out in the village. ,, 
 
 Poor Ellen turned sick, and looked as white 
 as if the first symptoms of the malady were al- 
 ready declaring themselves in her. 
 
 " I knew nothing, nothing at all of this, Miss 
 Veronica. — Who is ill, and what is the fever ?" 
 " What a poor nervous creature you are !" 
 exclaimed the Vicar's daughter, with uncon- 
 cealed disdain. " I shall have to find somebody 
 in your place, if the very name of a fever makes 
 you go as white as my apron. There are more 
 than a dozen laid up, I believe, since yesterday, 
 men, women, and children ; and my father has 
 been about amongst them for the last two hours. 
 I am going to set out as soon as I have got all 
 straight at home."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 213 
 
 " I wonder we should have heard nothing of 
 it at the Manor." 
 
 " Oh, the poor folks have been too busy and 
 too frightened to carry the news so far as that 
 ye,t. Nobody ever remembers such a thing 
 happening here before, but I have no time to 
 stay chattering. Will you come out with me, 
 or go home, and let your father and mother 
 know ?" 
 
 This was clearly no opportunity for speaking 
 of the matter which had brought Ellen to the 
 Vicarage. Coward as she knew and felt herself 
 to be, she could not relinquish her duty of visit- 
 ing the poor at such a season of general cala- 
 mity ; but as Maurice would be certain to come 
 forward boldly now, she would first communicate 
 with him, and then, if her parents did not ab- 
 solutely forbid it, she would accompany her 
 brother instead of Miss Veronica, and thus per- 
 haps, without a formal explanation on her own
 
 214 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 part, ensure her dismission from that lady's 
 service. 
 
 It did not take Ellen long to reach home, 
 for her feet kept time with her thoughts, and 
 these had never been less inactive. It was stjll 
 quite early, and supposing Maurice's explana- 
 tions might have detained the family in the 
 breakfast room, she hurried thither, full of the 
 melancholy news she had to relate. Her hand 
 was stretched out to open the door, when the 
 sound of Mr. Clavering's voice, tuned to the 
 loudest and sharpest pitch, arrested her move- 
 ment, and made the astonished daughter once 
 more turn pale and tremble. Ellen had never 
 seen her father angry yet — had never believed 
 that he could be so with any one, least of all, 
 with Maurice ; and for an instant she hesitated 
 as to whether she should go in. 
 
 There came, however, a sudden pause ; no- 
 body seemed to be speaking, and then Ellen
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 215 
 
 summoned courage, and walked with assumed 
 calmness into the midst of them. 
 
 What a scene it was ! 
 
 Mr. Clavering sat on one side of the table, 
 with flushed cheeks, angry eyes, and folded 
 arms, confronting his son, who, pale as death, 
 but with an unbending resolution depicted on 
 every quivering feature of his face, awakened at 
 once the sister's warmest sympathy, and made 
 her long to clasp his neck and entreat him to 
 be comforted. And then, beside her husband, 
 but looking much oftener at her son, was poor 
 Mrs. Clavering, flushed too, but not with anger,' 
 and wiping away, from time to time, the tears 
 that were raining down her cheeks. 
 
 A scene or a dispute was such a rare occur- 
 rence in this quiet family, that it found them 
 all unprepared to meet it. 
 
 Ellen's abrupt entrance made a temporary 
 diversion in the state of things. The father 
 turned to her and demanded, still with sup- 
 
 •
 
 216 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 pressed and painful excitement, " whether it 
 was true that she had known nothing of her 
 brother's insanity (that was his word) until yes- 
 terday ?" 
 
 Ellen replied eagerly in the affirmative ; and 
 then, with a true woman's instinct of generosity, 
 went round, and, placing her chair close to Mau- 
 rice, laid her hand in his, and .tried to make her 
 face express the sympathy and encouragement 
 she dared not otherwise utter. 
 
 Mr. Clavering stood up, pushing his chair 
 from him with a force that threw it on the 
 ground. 
 
 " By heaven !" he said — and now his voice 
 was low and threatening, " if you infect your 
 sister or any member of the family with your 
 mad and fanatical notions, Maurice, I will never 
 see you again, even if you were on your death- 
 bed." 
 
 " Oh Hugh, pray, pray don't talk in that way," 
 pleaded the terrified wife and anxious mother.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 217 
 
 " Maurice believes he is doing right ; and per- 
 haps, as regards the ministry, he will re-consider 
 it. Let us end the discussion now, that we 
 may all have time to think. Poor Nelly is 
 frightened at your excitement. " 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Nelly !" said the father, 
 with a momentary softening of his voice, as he 
 noticed how white she was really looking. " I 
 have been half maddened by your brother's ex- 
 traordinary announcement — I, who ever since 
 he was born, have hoped to see him a loyal 
 country gentleman, attached, as his ancestors 
 have been before him, to church and state, and 
 despising, as they and I have done, those sneak- 
 ing, canting, hypocrites and radicals, who are 
 beginning to overrun the country, and sow 
 mischief and anarchy everywhere." 
 
 " Once more, father," replied Maurice, with 
 infinite gentleness, " I must explain that my 
 convictions have nothing to do with politics. I 
 scarcely know the points of dispute between
 
 218 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 Whig and Tory, and should be just as reluc- 
 tant to vote for one party as the other. My 
 future duties will lie in a very opposite di- 
 rection." 
 
 " Then you are still resolved to disgrace your 
 family, and disappoint all my fondest hopes 
 concerning you ?" 
 
 " I am still resolved (God willing) to qualify 
 myself for preaching his gospel to the poor and 
 ignorant." 
 
 " Then don't expect my blessing, that's all ! 
 And now I will wish you and the ladies good- 
 morning." 
 
 The anger seemed to have given place to a 
 quiet bitterness that was even more foreign 
 than wrath itself to Mr. Clavering's character. 
 As he turned to leave the room, Ellen sprang 
 up, and laying her hand on his arm, said with 
 a gravity that instantly arrested him — 
 
 " One minute, papa. I have some bad news 
 to tell you."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 219 
 
 " More bad news ? but out with it, nothing 
 can ever again surprise me." 
 
 " A malignant fever has broken out in the 
 village. Everybody is panic-stricken. Miss 
 Glossop wanted me to go amongst the people 
 with her, but I came to tell you first ; and if 
 you and mamma have no objection, I should 
 like to go with Maurice. There will be so 
 much to be done, and we have so few to do 
 it." 
 
 The three listeners received this startling in- 
 telligence with different degrees of emotion, but 
 all felt it as a common and severe calamity, ' 
 and there was that in Mr. Clavering's face 
 which suggested that coming at such a mo- 
 ment, he had been particularly struck with it. 
 Maurice was the first to speak. 
 
 " No, dear Nelly, it will be clearly your duty 
 to remain at home, and avoid infection. We 
 shall find volunteers for any service that may 
 be required. I, at least, will lose no time.
 
 220 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 Father, shake hands with me before we 
 part." 
 
 A tear, probably the first that had ever ob- 
 truded there, shone in Mr. Clavering's eye as 
 he stretched out his hand to grasp that of his 
 son. 
 
 " If this news prove as bad as Nelly has 
 represented it, we shall meet in the village by- 
 and-bye, Maurice. I will not ask you to avoid 
 exposing yourself, for I know it would be use- 
 less, but take what precautions you can — and 
 — and, mamma/' (this was a favourite name for 
 his wife) " keep Nelly close beside you, and 
 don't be frightened either of you. I will go 
 down now and enquire about it." 
 
 The moment the father had disappeared, Mrs. 
 Clavering's long-suppressed emotion found vent 
 in a passion of hysterical weeping, but Maurice 
 only stayed for a minute or two, to comfort and 
 caress her ; and then, scarcely heeding her im- 
 ploring entreaties that he would take every pos-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 221 
 
 sible care of himself, this timid, sensitive, al- 
 most effeminate young man, went forth to that 
 work of love and charity which would not only 
 expose his frail life, but proclaim to the world 
 he had so long dreaded, that he had chosen the 
 good part that should never be taken away from 
 him.
 
 222 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 There succeeded a time of suffering, anxiety, 
 and excitement in that obscure corner of the 
 world, to which no description could do adequate 
 justice. There was not a cottage in the village, 
 and for a mile around it, that did not contain 
 its sick or dying. Some attributed this extra- 
 ordinary calamity to the long continuance of the 
 rains at the beginning of the spring ; others to 
 the malaria arising from several pools of stag- 
 nant water in the neighbourhood ; and a few of 
 the most seriously inclined regarded it as a direct 
 visitation from Heaven, on account of the utter
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 223 
 
 godlessness which was manifest in the conduct 
 of the larger proportion of the inhabitants. 
 
 The vicar and his daughter were unremitting 
 in their attentions to the unfortunate sufferers, 
 and would fain, even now, have kept their op- 
 ponents (as they called all those who did not 
 belong to the established church) from inter- 
 fering in duties they considered exclusively their 
 own. But neither Mr. Arnold nor his demure 
 little sister, nor Maurice Clavering, nor Mr. 
 Clavering himself, were likely to be deterred 
 from performing their part in a work that, in 
 reality, demanded more agents than the entire 
 neighbourhood could produce. 
 
 It was now that Maurice came out in his true 
 character of fearless and unselfish devotion ; 
 that rising above the timidity and fainthearted- 
 ness that had for too long a period hid his light 
 under a bushel, he showed himself a faithful 
 and loving disciple of the Master he had chosen, 
 and compelled even his father to acknowledge
 
 224 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 that there was something more than fanaticism 
 in all this. 
 
 For though the latter worked as eagerly, and 
 exposed his life as recklessly, — urged on by the 
 natural and admirable benevolence and tender- 
 ness of his character, — he saw and felt the dif- 
 ference that existed between his own ministerings 
 and those of his son ; and more than once retired 
 from a deathbed (where Maurice had wrestled 
 in prayer for the departing spirit) convinced that 
 in his life's journey he had missed something 
 that was worth all the good fortune and earthly 
 sunshine he had enjoyed. 
 
 But in the midst of the active and incessant 
 duties which occupied nearly the whole of every 
 day, Mr. Clavering had not much time for re- 
 flections of any sort. It was the wife and 
 daughter (who were most positively and au- 
 thoritatively prohibited from even approaching 
 the village) who had the largest amount of sor- 
 row and anxiety to endure.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 225 
 
 They walked out a little every morning, by 
 Mr. Clavering's orders and the doctor's advice, 
 in the shady, scented lanes and fields that im- 
 mediately surrounded the manor ; but the glo- 
 ries of approaching summer, the birds, the 
 flowers, the azure skies, all that on ordinary 
 occasions they both could so warmly appreciate, 
 only added now to the heavy weight 'upon their 
 hearts, and filled them with an unimaginable 
 sadness for which they could find no remedy. 
 Without the smallest fear of infection for them- 
 selves, although two or three of their household 
 servants had been already attacked with the 
 fever, Mrs. Clavering and Ellen lived in a state 
 of hourly dread and excitement, lest one or both 
 of those they loved should be brought home 
 from their unwearying labours, to go out no 
 more but to the crowded village churchyard. 
 
 " I am sure, Nelly," said the mother one day, 
 when, after their usually melancholy stroll, they 
 sat to rest for a few minutes, before entering the 
 
 vol. I, Q
 
 226 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 house, on a felled tree that was lying across the 
 lane, — " I am sure that if this goes on much 
 longer, the anxiety will kill me. I cannot, do 
 what I may, shake off the terrible forebodings 
 of some dreadful misfortune that are continually 
 haunting my mind. Did you not notice — I 
 have been afraid to mention it before — but did 
 you not notice that Maurice was looking un- 
 usually pale and heavy under the eyes, when he 
 went out this morning ?" 
 
 " He always looks pale, dear mamma," re- 
 plied Ellen, trying to impart the hope she was 
 far from feeling. " I really did not notice any- 
 thing particular to-day." 
 
 " Well, perhaps 1 was over anxious, and 
 imagined it to be so. He certainly made a good 
 breakfast; but now I think of it, your father 
 only ate one egg t and left part of his coffee — 
 however, I am not so apprehensive about him 
 as about poor Maurice, because he has always 
 had an iron constitution, from living so much
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 227 
 
 in the open air — Nelly, dear, who is that coming 
 in the distance ?" 
 
 Ellen looked up quickly, and saw a gentleman 
 dressed in black advancing rapidly towards them. 
 At present he was too far off to enable her to 
 distinguish a single feature of his face, and her 
 first thought was naturally of Sydney Willand, 
 from whom she had received no tidings of any 
 sort from the day he left St. Ives, — a circum- 
 stance that she had literally had no time to 
 deplore or be anxious about, in the sad and 
 engrossing interests that had immediately fol- 
 lowed his departure. Still, in accordance with 
 the promise contained in his letter, she might 
 always be said to be expecting his return, and 
 the sudden apparition of a stranger in the garb 
 of a gentleman made her heart beat with a 
 pleasanter emotion than she had experienced 
 for many a day. She only said, however — 
 
 " I cannot see who it is yet, mamma, but I 
 think we must be the objects of his search." 
 
 q 2 «
 
 228 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " It looks like it indeed. Oh, now I can guess, 
 Nelly — it must be that dissenting friend of 
 your brother's, whose name I always forget — 
 what can he possibly want here ? " 
 
 In the disappointment Ellen herself felt, at 
 discovering that the stranger was not Sydney, 
 she failed to observe that her mother trembled 
 and grew deathly white as the gentleman in 
 black came near enough to salute both ladies 
 gravely, and to prove to them that Mrs. Cover- 
 ing had not been mistaken as to his sacred 
 profession. 
 
 " I believe, " he said, in a voice that struck 
 them less by its sweetness than by the deep 
 sympathy it conveyed, " that I have the pleasure 
 of addressing Mrs. and Miss Clavering? " 
 
 The mother bowed, but her pale lips refused 
 to utter a single word, and Ellen at length per- 
 ceiving her companion's agitation, replied eagerly, 
 first passing her arm tenderly and protectingly 
 round Mrs. Clavering's waist —
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 229 
 
 "You can, I am sure, understand poor 
 mamma's emotion, without having it explained 
 to you. We are so constantly in expectation of 
 hearing bad news, that every strange] face fills 
 us with apprehension. Is Maurice, — is my 
 
 brother " 
 
 There was apparently something in Mr. 
 Arnold's look that caused Ellen to pause ab- 
 ruptly, without finishing her question. At any 
 rate she did so, and he, directing his pitying 
 eyes always towards the silent mother — again 
 said hurriedly — 
 
 " Maurice is quite well at present. It is not 
 about him that I have come to you. " 
 
 A flood of tears relieved in some measure the 
 agony that had been working at Mrs. Cover- 
 ing's heart, and in the profound silence that 
 followed no one could doubt that a tribute of 
 fervent thanksgiving went up to Him who had 
 compassionated the mother's woe, and spared
 
 230 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 to her the Benjamin round whom her warmest 
 affections were entwined. 
 
 But something was yet to be told — there was 
 another dear one whose life was equally perilled; 
 and poor Mrs. Clavering had scarcely recovered 
 from the reaction of feeling produced by the 
 tidings of her son's safety, ere she had to com- 
 pel herself to look up, and ask how it was with 
 her husband. 
 
 Mr. Arnold saw that he might venture to 
 speak plainly now. Whatever amount of suffer- 
 ing the intelligence he had to impart might pro- 
 duce, it was clearly not the suffering that would 
 kill by a sudden blow, or leave existence desti- 
 tute of all that gives it value. Mrs. Clavering 
 was a good and dutiful and even affectionate 
 wife, but the deepest and tenderest chords of 
 her nature thrilled only to her children's touch ; 
 and of these perhaps Maurice alone was capable 
 of awakening her heart's full and complete har- 
 mony.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 231 
 
 " Your husband," said Mr. Arnold, (and this 
 time Ellen came in for at least an equal share 
 of his observation), " has been seized with a 
 sudden faintness and giddiness, which he fears 
 may be the preliminaries of the epidemic to 
 whose contagion he has so long exposed him- 
 self. Being not very far from my residence at 
 the moment he was taken, I easily prevailed on 
 him to come home with me, and Maurice and 
 my sister are now with him ; the doctor will be 
 there too by this time. Mr. Clavering is still 
 perfectly sensible, and he entreats that you and 
 your daughter will not be unduly anxious nor 
 attempt at present to visit him. But now, 
 having faithfully delivered the message entrusted" 
 to me by your husband, I must add my sister's 
 cordial invitation to yourself and Miss Clavering, 
 to take up your abode with us for awhile, should 
 you decide on disregarding the unselfish advice 
 that I was begged to urge upon you." 
 
 "I will go at once," replied the wife, in
 
 232 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 a firm and resolute voice, though her whole 
 frame was trembling. " Nelly, darling, you 
 must do without me now. I will soon send 
 Maurice home to comfort you." 
 
 Ellen's tears were pouring fast over her 
 flushed cheeks, but there was a look of deter- 
 mination in her face also, as she turned it for a 
 moment towards Mr. Arnold, as if to entreat 
 him to be on her side. 
 
 " Mamma, it would be too cruel to deprive 
 me of the only consolation left to either of us, 
 that of doing all we can for poor dear papa, and 
 showing him at least that we really love him. 
 Let me, do let me, go with you." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering shook her head, but seemed 
 incapable of strong opposition. Mr. Arnold 
 answered the mute appeal he could not but read 
 in Ellen's expressive eyes — 
 
 " I think Miss Clavering is right. At such 
 a time a familv should not be separated. My
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 233 
 
 sister will do her utmost to make you both 
 comfortable." 
 
 The point was gained, and Mr. Arnold 
 warmly entreated to come and rest at the manor 
 while the ladies made a few hurried preparations 
 for the short but melancholy journey that half 
 an hour ago they had so little anticipated.
 
 234 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 That hope which can scarcely be called hope, 
 from its close affinity to fear, but which we part 
 with nevertheless so grudgingly and lingeringly, 
 had at length to be entirely resigned by the fond 
 and faithful watchers round the sick bed of poor 
 Mr. Clavering. His tough and vigorous con- 
 stitution had fought desperately against the 
 disease, had seemed at times as if it would come 
 off conqueror in the struggle, and laugh to scorn 
 the enemy that assailed it ; but this enemy was 
 accustomed to deal with the strongest and the 
 proudest amongst the sons of men ; and ere the
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 235 
 
 half of his skilful and noiseless advances were 
 discovered, he had planted the black standard of 
 victory upon the walls, and was mocking the 
 unspoken misery of the lookers-on with his 
 shouts of insulting triumph. 
 
 The husband and father so beloved and so 
 appreciated, so eminently calculated to adorn 
 and enjoy the present world, so worthy (humanly 
 speaking) of the happiness that had fallen to 
 his lot, was dying in the very prime of life, and 
 at the moment when his existence seemed most 
 absolutely necessary to the dear ones he was 
 called to leave. 
 
 It was one of those strange dispensations of 
 Providence that make a peculiarly melancholy 
 impression upon the minds of all who witness 
 them, and which the Christian only can accept 
 with the full and satisfied conviction that there 
 is a rainbow somewhere behind the cloud. 
 
 In the present case, there was indeed abundant 
 cause for thankfulness in the quiet resignation
 
 236 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 which Mr. Clavering manifested in view of his 
 approaching doom. A brave man or a philoso- 
 pher might certainly have exhibited no less, but 
 Maurice and his friend both hoped, and the 
 quiet little sister Grace felt sure, that there was 
 a better foundation than philosophy or moral 
 courage here. Grace Arnold was far from being 
 a striking or an attractive person. She could 
 never by any possibility shine, and it would be 
 with difficulty that she would even please, in the 
 busy, exacting, unreflecting world — but she was 
 a ministering angel in a sick room ; and from 
 the hour when he was committed to her gentle 
 care, Mr. Clavering had [learned to value and 
 depend upon her as a nurse, above all the rest 
 who surrounded him. 
 
 And thus it came to pass that this shy and 
 rather awkward little girl, whose very name he 
 had never before heard, whose dissenting princi- 
 ples alone would (under other circumstances) 
 have sufficed to make her odious to him, gained
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 237 
 
 an influence over the sick man's mind strong 
 enough to induce him not only to listen to 
 whatever she might choose to say about spiritual 
 things, but to overcome his own powerful re- 
 luctance to speak on the subject, and to engage 
 in arguments which ended in his consenting to 
 receive willingly, if not joyfully, the ministerial 
 teachings of Grace's brother, and to join in the 
 anxious, fervent, loving prayers of his own son 
 Maurice. 
 
 Mrs. Clavering and Ellen, though they both 
 did their very best at this trying season, felt 
 and suffered too much to be of any material 
 use or comfort to the dying man. He was in- 
 tensely grateful for their unselfish affection, re- 
 joiced to see them still in health and safety near 
 him, but beyond this their presence was of little 
 actual importance ; and they certainly multiplied 
 (unconsciously, it is true) poor Grace's household 
 cares and difficulties. 
 
 As the end drew near, and Mr. Clavering,
 
 238 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 after a short period of mental obscurity, became 
 sufficiently calm and collected to think of worldly 
 affairs, he held several long interviews with his 
 wife and son, from which Ellen was excluded. 
 These were nearly the only occasions on which 
 Grace Arnold and herself were thrown together, 
 and the former was much too timid to take 
 advantage of them in striving to advance in the 
 esteem and good opinion of the companion so 
 strangely procured for her, while Ellen, absorbed 
 
 in her own sorrows, did not think she could 
 
 i 
 
 gain anything by looking very closely into the 
 character of one who seemed to have nothing 
 but her unquestionable goodness to recommend 
 her. 
 
 Not that Ellen was in the least inclined to 
 despise or undervalue this goodness which she 
 saw so plainly manifested in the very simplest 
 action of Grace's daily life — but conscious that 
 she gave her full credit for all, that in her in- 
 most heart she sincerely esteemed and admired
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 239 
 
 her, Ellen felt as if she had a right to let the 
 matter rest here, without either giving or claiming 
 a warmer or more intimate friendship. 
 
 Perhaps had she chosen to acknowledge it, there 
 was a reason which acted as a counter-charm, 
 whenever any idea of trying to draw the little 
 Puritan nearer to her heart suggested itself. 
 
 Of Mr. Arnold, Ellen saw and knew even 
 less than of his sister. The increase of his 
 duties in the village kept him continually from 
 home, and his guests supposed that they must 
 attribute to the same cause the fact of his rarely 
 taking his meals with the other members of the 
 family. He appeared to be a quiet, thoughtful, 
 deeply serious man, with neither time nor in- 
 clination to cultivate the graces of society, and 
 with an utter disregard of everything that was 
 not included in the plain and positive duties of 
 his calling. He was evidently many years older 
 than Grace, and his love for this young sister, 
 manifested never by words, but by his continual
 
 240 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 and watchful anxiety about her, during the whole 
 continuance of the epidemic, was the only out- 
 ward sign he gave of having stronger feelings 
 in his nature than those of Christian charity 
 and benevolence. 
 
 It must be confessed that Ellen had enough 
 of woman's weakness to wish sometimes that he 
 would take the trouble to say a few words to 
 her ; that she was surprised and a litttle vexed 
 that he should often come into the room where 
 she was sitting, and leave it again, without ex- 
 changing with her the simplest courtesies. It 
 looked as if he considered her totally unworthy 
 of his notice, or suspected that she could have 
 no appreciation of anything that was not fri- 
 volous and worldly. Perhaps, had he known 
 that she would have been delighted to talk to 
 him, even on the most serious subjects, his 
 strange reserve might have given way ; but 
 Ellen was too young, and it may be too proud 
 to make the first advances, and so there seemed
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 241 
 
 every chance of the distance between them con- 
 tinuing. 
 
 But a simple accident effected that which all 
 the wishing in the world might never have 
 accomplished, while, at the same time, it con- 
 vinced one of the parties concerned that the 
 fulfilment of our most innocent desires some- 
 times entails consequences we never dreamt of. 
 
 Grace was out one evening when her brother 
 came home to his tea, more tired and exhausted 
 than usual, and really in need of immediate re- 
 freshment. Their old servant was exceedingly 
 busy, and (to use her own words) did not know 
 which way to turn ; Mrs. Clavering and Mau- 
 rice were in the sick room, and there only re- 
 mained Ellen, who could be of the least service. 
 She had gone into the garden for a breath of 
 air, the day having been intensely hot, and it 
 was here that Janet found her, and entreated, as 
 a great and particular favour to herself, that she 
 
 vol. i. R
 
 242 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 would come in and make a cup of tea for " poor 
 master." 
 
 Ellen did not hesitate a moment in accepting 
 the simple and easy task demanded of her, but 
 she felt more nervous at the thoughts of what 
 she was going to do, than she would have felt 
 in exposing herself to the worst form of the 
 reigning fever. 
 
 Mr. Arnold was sitting by the open window 
 when she went in, but nothing in his look in- 
 dicated that he was either admiring the flowers 
 whose graceful heads were bending towards him 
 in the soft summer wind, or even rejoicing in 
 the exquisite perfumes that filled all the evening 
 air. He had no poetry in his nature, this grave, 
 unsociable, cold-hearted man ; and Ellen decided 
 that it would be less difficult to animate a rock 
 than to find any elements of companionship in 
 him. 
 
 It seemed ridiculous, if not impertinent, to 
 break in upon that fixed abstraction of seemingly
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 243 
 
 painful thought by the common-place announce- 
 ment that she was come to make tea for him ; 
 but fortunately the entrance of Janet with the 
 tray, saved her the necessity of being the first 
 to speak. He turned round at this second in- 
 trusion, and, seeing Ellen, rose and offered her 
 a chair. 
 
 " Please, sir," said Janet, " I've taken the 
 liberty of bringing in Miss Clavering to pour 
 out your tea for you. Miss Grace won't be 
 home just yet, and I've a deal to do down 
 stairs." 
 
 " But surely I can pour out my own tea," 
 replied the master, with a half smile at the idea 
 of being represented to a stranger as so utterly 
 helpless. " It was kindly meant on your part, 
 Janet, but I really could not think of troubling 
 Miss Clavering." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Janet, preventing Ellen's 
 answer in her eagerness to explain, " I never for 
 a moment thought you did not know how to
 
 244 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 hold the teapot, but youVe never yet been 
 without Miss Grace or me to do it for you, and 
 so I fancied you might be lonesome, 'specially, 
 sir, as you don't seem over-well to-night." 
 
 Ellen would speak now. " Indeed, Mr. 
 Arnold, I shall have great pleasure in doing 
 this little service for you, if you will permit 
 me. Mamma and my brother are up-stairs, 
 and I shall otherwise be quite alone." 
 
 What possible objection could he make after 
 this ? It is to be presumed that he was satisfied 
 with the arrangement thus in a manner forced 
 upon him, for presently he drew his chair to the 
 table, closed the window, lest Ellen should suffer 
 from the draught, and putting aside all his own 
 former unquiet thoughts, began speaking to 
 her kindly, and with manifest interest, of her 
 father. 
 
 In a few minutes all reserve and embarrass- 
 ment had disappeared. Mr. Arnold seemed to 
 yield unconsciously to that undefinable charm in
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 245 
 
 Ellen's manner which had already gained her 
 so many hearts, and to talk to her with a fami- 
 liarity that had something quite paternal in it ; 
 while Ellen felt that she was in the presence of 
 a superior mind, before which her own acknow- 
 ledged a strange, new pleasure in bending. 
 
 Amongst the many dreams that this dreaming 
 girl had dreamt, was one of possessing a friend 
 and counsellor of mature age, who, without the 
 authority of a father, or the exactingness of a 
 lover, would yet be enabled to influence her to 
 all that was good> and great, and noble, both in 
 will and action. 
 
 Perhaps Mr. Arnold was less superior, or 
 seemed to casual observers less superior, in point 
 of abstract intellect, than would have been the 
 friend in question, had Ellen fashioned him for 
 herself; but then she was quite ready to admit 
 that the want of brilliancy in mental gifts was 
 more than atoned for by the actual goodness 
 and strength of character that she found in
 
 246 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 such rare perfection here. In fact, that short half 
 hour's tete-a-tete with Grace Arnold's brother, 
 imparted to Ellen Clavering's life a fresh inte- 
 rest of no insignificant amount, and wrought 
 upon her easily-excited mind the conviction 
 that had she earlier come in contact with such 
 a friend, she would never have felt that besoin 
 a" aimer which had led her to engage herself to 
 the first person who, with a soft voice and 
 winning smile, had whispered into her foolish 
 ear that he loved her. 
 
 There had been much in Ellen's recent cir- 
 cumstances to diminish the impression made 
 upon her heart by Sydney Willand, and his en- 
 thusiastic attachment. The illness and ap- 
 proaching death of a father so beloved and 
 respected, had not only filled all her thoughts, 
 but had subdued that feverish imagination which 
 was always leading her astray, and brought her 
 into close contact with some of life's saddest 
 realities
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 247 
 
 And then the gloom upon every one around 
 her, the constantly tolling bells, the bereaved 
 and desolate she was frequently obliged to see, 
 the danger her brother was still hourly exposed 
 to ; all these things had done their part in dim- 
 ming the memory of an absent lover ; and in 
 disposing her to seek rather the calm and 
 steadfast friendship of one who should be able to 
 sustain and direct her amidst the further trials 
 that it needed no prophet's eye to see looming 
 in the distance. 
 
 Of course, she could not give expression to 
 all this, otherwise than by that humble, de- 
 ferential, and, to most men, dangerously flat- 
 tering: manner which women assume some- 
 times unconsciously in the presence of those 
 of the stronger sex, who inspire them with 
 real esteem. And it is more than probable that 
 Mr. Arnold, at any rate in that first interview, 
 remained perfectly ignorant of the impression 
 he had made upon a mind that he had hitherto
 
 248 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 only thought of in reference to the sufferings 
 and storms that life was preparing for it, and 
 its want of that anchorage which can alone 
 enable any human mind to withstand them. 
 
 Had he known poor Ellen better, he might, 
 even then, have told her that there existed no 
 arm of flesh strong enough for her weakness to 
 lean upon ; he might have warned her, that of 
 all dangers a poor soul can encounter in its 
 weary pilgrimage, none is greater than that of 
 seeking to extract its happiness from even the 
 purest and most innocent of earthly affections. 
 
 But being a man of few weaknesses, and 
 strikingly independent character himself, he had 
 never sufficiently dissected human nature to un- 
 derstand the countless shades and variations of 
 individual character. In Ellen Clavering he 
 saw only an interesting and apparently amiable 
 young woman, entering the great battle-field of 
 life, unarmed and unprepared in every way for 
 the conflict. Thousands as interesting and
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 249 
 
 amiable, whom his pity could never reach, were 
 in the same sad position ; but this one seemed 
 to have been thrown by circumstances in an 
 especial manner under his influence, and in 
 resolving to avail himself of it to the extent of 
 his ability, it did not for a moment occur to 
 him, that he was providing another frail 
 branch for the weak tendril to cling to, instead 
 of helping it, as his honest purpose was, to gain 
 a firm and abiding hold round the stem of the 
 parent tree.
 
 250 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Before Mr. Clavering breathed his last, the 
 fever had entirely disappeared from the neigh- 
 bourhood, and those sounds of life and labour 
 in which his active, cheerful mind had so long 
 rejoiced, were once more heard in the busy 
 land around him. But whatever he felt in 
 closing his eyes upon a world that few men had 
 more intensely and at the same time more 
 rationally enjoyed, this good husband and father 
 said nothing of his regrets. He expressed 
 repeated gratitude for the mercies which had 
 been bestowed upon him, committed the beloved
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 251 
 
 mourners he was leaving to that Almighty 
 Friend whom one, at least, amongst them, had 
 already learned to serve ; and then resigning his 
 own soul to the Redeemer he had found only 
 at this eleventh hour, bade farewell to all, as 
 calmly as if he was setting out upon a pleasant 
 journey, that would separate him but for a little 
 while from those who wept beside him so bit- 
 terly and despairingly now. 
 
 " I feel as if I should never, never get over 
 this grief, " wrote Ellen to her friend in Ireland 
 a week after she had followed her father to the 
 grave — " for the very sunshine looks dark to 
 me since he who was a part of it is gone from 
 amongst us. " 
 
 And this was literally the case ; adding another 
 to the many examples we are constantly wit- 
 nessing of cheerful, happy, genial characters 
 exciting an amount of affection, and inspiring 
 an intensity of regret, such as is rarely felt for 
 those who, with all the virtues in the world
 
 252 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 are yet destitute of this sunshine of spirit which 
 diffuses warmth and gladness on everything and 
 everybody around it. 
 
 And what inference can we draw from this, 
 but that selfishness is intimately and inseparably 
 bound up with every human attachment, no 
 matter what its name ! 
 
 To the surprise of all who had known Mr. 
 Clavering's industry, and practical skill in farm- 
 ing, the estate on which he had so prided him- 
 self, was found, after his death, to be of much 
 less actual marketable value than had been sup- 
 posed. The sale of house and lands, including 
 a fair amount of personal property that would 
 henceforth be useless to the widow and her 
 children, realized but just sufficient to give 
 them a very modest income ; and besides this, 
 there was but the cottage situated about three 
 miles from the village, and to which reference 
 has before been made. 
 
 One of the last wishes expressed by Mr. Cla-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 253 
 
 vering was that his family, on the sale of the 
 estate, should take possession of this cottage, 
 and remain in the neighbourhood until at least 
 their pecuniary affairs were finally wound up. 
 He had named Mr. Arnold, in conjunction with 
 Maurice, trustees for his wife and daughter, and 
 relying implicitly on the integrity and prudence 
 of that gentleman, he desired to secure, for 
 those he was leaving desolate, the vicinity of the 
 only male friend whom their somewhat peculiar 
 circumstances had given them. 
 
 In the first moments of bereavement, distress, 
 and difficulty, Mrs. Clavering was thankful be- 
 yond measure to have some one to think and 
 act for her, and to assist in comforting her sor- 
 rowing children, who seemed as if they never 
 could be comforted — but in point of fact she by 
 no means approved the guardian her husband 
 had chosen for them ; and even in her earliest 
 days of mourning she firmly resolved to remove 
 Ellen and herself from this accidental association
 
 254 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 as soon as possible. For a few weeks, perhaps 
 months, they could not do otherwise than re- 
 main at the cottage ; but to expose her beautiful 
 and accomplished daughter longer than could 
 be avoided, to influences which might mar all 
 her future prospects, was not for an instant to 
 be thought of; and full of her own hopes and 
 schemes (which for the present were to be care- 
 fully concealed from those most interested in 
 them), Mrs. Clavering began the preparations 
 for their removal to their new home with more 
 energy and cheerfulness than any one had ex- 
 pected to find in her. 
 
 There was necessarily a great deal to be 
 done ; and Ellen, though she would infinitely 
 have preferred weeping all day long with her 
 brother, was obliged to work hard like the rest. 
 Mr. Arnold invariably looked grave and dis- 
 pleased when he fancied she was giving way to 
 the natural indolence of her character, and sub- 
 stituting "I cannot," for "I will not." He
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 255 
 
 never talked much to her, never gave the 
 slightest indication of wishing to lessen the dis- 
 tance between them ; but Ellen had learned to 
 understand the expression of his countenance, 
 and not to displease him had become her 
 strongest motive for well doing. 
 
 The second Sunday after their bereavement 
 found them still the guests of the Arnolds, and 
 Mrs. Clavering (who had a few days before re- 
 ceived a visit of condolence from the Vicar and 
 his daughter; a mark of respect, under the 
 circumstances of her being where she was, that 
 Miss Veronica had taken care to make the most 
 of) announced her intention, at the breakfast- 
 table, of going to church with her son and 
 daughter. 
 
 Maurice looked up quickly and anxiously at 
 this communication. He was about to speak, 
 when his mother forestalled him. 
 
 " It is enough, Maurice. I understand you, 
 and waive my claim. Ellen, my love, you will
 
 256 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 not have more than sufficient time to get ready ; 
 we have a long walk before us, and it will be a 
 fearfully hot day." 
 
 Ellen rose, but her brow was unmistakeably 
 clouded, and she pulled the door in going out 
 with a sharpness that was very unusual with 
 her. 
 
 Nobody made any remark, though Grace had 
 glanced for a moment uneasily at Maurice ; and 
 a few minutes later, Mrs. Clavering, wishing 
 the party good morning, left the room also. 
 
 Ellen did not take long to dress ; and per- 
 haps conscious of being in anything but a calm 
 or desirable state of mind, she walked out into 
 the garden, and sat down in a little shady alcove 
 to wait for her mother. 
 
 In a few minutes after her arrival, and while 
 she was pulling to pieces one of Grace's choicest 
 roses, the entrance to her retreat was suddenly 
 darkened, and Mr. Arnold stood, book in hand, 
 and ready to start for his chapel, before her.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 257 
 
 Ellen was uncertain at first whether he had 
 come on purpose to seek her, such a thing never 
 having yet occurred ; but a quick glance into his 
 grave, displeased face, convinced her that he 
 had something to say ; and as he appeared in 
 no hurry to begin, she stood up, and asked him 
 if anybody wanted her. 
 
 " Not immediately," he replied, " and you will 
 do well to sit down again, and rest, as this will 
 be a better preparation for a hot walk than 
 standing. I think you had agreed with Grace 
 and your brother to go to chapel this morning.' , 
 
 " Yes. Maurice promised a long while ago 
 to take me. I want to hear you preach." 
 
 " A very insufficient motive for changing your 
 ordinary place of worship, even if there were no 
 will to which vou owe submission, in the wav. 
 Under present circumstances, Miss Clavering, 
 believe me few things would more distress me 
 than to see you at my chapel. Promise me that 
 you will not attempt to come." 
 
 vol. I. s
 
 258 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " Of course I will give you any promise you 
 require, whether I discover the reasonableness 
 of it or not. But may I just ask why your 
 scruples on this subject do not include my 
 brother as well as me?" 
 
 " Maurice has left the church, of which he 
 was a nominal member, upon sincere and earnest 
 conviction. He does not come to chapel to hear 
 me preach, but to hear the gospel, and to wor* 
 ship in the manner he believes to be the most 
 scriptural.' ' 
 
 Ellen coloured deeply at this plainness of 
 speech. 
 
 " You give me credit then for nothing but an 
 idle curiositv, Mr. Arnold ?" 
 
 " You have chosen your own form of expres- 
 sion, Miss Clavering. Believe me I should not 
 have presumed to use the same." 
 
 " But if you thought it, you might just as 
 well say it. You know I am not easily of- 
 fended."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 259 
 
 " That is true, and therefore I feel the more 
 confidence in telling you of your faults. Try, 
 even in little things, to forget self, and live for 
 the happiness of others, and you will not often 
 have a frown upon your brow. Above all, never 
 think that the interests of religion can be ad- 
 vanced by the exhibition of a temper which 
 every precept of that religion condemns. Good 
 morning, Miss Clavering — I hear my sister's 
 voice enquiring for me." 
 
 Ellen held out her hand, but Mr. Arnold did 
 not notice it in his eagerness to answer Grace's 
 summons. His brief mission had been accom- 
 plished, and in the higher and more important 
 duties to which he was hastening, every re- 
 membrance of so slight a thing would soon be 
 banished from his mind. A foolish tear stood 
 in Ellen's eye as she arrived at this probable 
 conclusion. It was so increasingly evident that 
 the interest manifested towards her by Mr. 
 Arnold was simply that of a kind and faithful 
 
 s 2
 
 260 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 shepherd towards a silly, wandering sheep, while 
 what she yearned for more than ever, in the 
 continued silence of him who had once filled all 
 her thoughts, was a friend with a human heart 
 and human feelings, who would pity, advise, and 
 sympathize with her for her own sake alone. 
 
 The fever of her nature, which suffering had 
 for awhile subdued, was coming back in all its 
 former strength, and quenching those vague, 
 though at times earnest longings, for the calm 
 and settled peace which she knew religion alone 
 could bestow upon her. 
 
 Had Mr. Arnold, plain, homely, serious man, 
 though he was, evinced a little more personal 
 regard for her, treated her, in short, as a woman 
 who had a mind capable of at least appreciating 
 his own, Ellen felt certain that she should have 
 yielded entirely to his influence, and been con- 
 tent and happy in her dependance ; but instead 
 of this he placed a barrier between them too 
 cold and hard for her to lean against, and so
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 261 
 
 the poor heart was still left to grope about for 
 food to satisfy its present cravings, or to fall 
 back upon the memory of that which, though it 
 stimulated for a time, had little of wholesome 
 nutriment in it. 
 
 # 
 
 " Ellen, my love," said Mrs. Clavering, 
 looking up suddenly from her work a day or 
 two after they had been settled in their new 
 home, "I had almost forgotten to tell you what 
 I found last night amongst those old papers you 
 brought down to amuse me while you and 
 Maurice were out. Of course you remember 
 the abrupt manner in which Mr. Willand left 
 the neighbourhood just before our troubles 
 began ?" 
 
 " Yes, mamma," replied Ellen with quickened 
 pulses, and avoiding meeting her companion's 
 eye ; " but you know he sent a message to ex-
 
 262 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 plain that it was on account of his father's dan- 
 gerous illness." 
 
 " Exactly. Well, my dear, it appears from the 
 date of the paper, that Mr. Willand, senior, died 
 a few days after his son left Northumberland, 
 and that since that time the whole family have 
 been abroad. Do you know, Nelly, I used to 
 think there was a sort of attachment between 
 you and this young man." 
 
 Ellen grew pale now, but she said after a 
 moment's silence — 
 
 " I liked him very much, mamma." 
 " And he liked you — was it not so ?" 
 " I believe he did — yes — but if he is abroad, 
 the chances are we shall never meet again. 
 You will see, even in this case, that I shall not 
 break my heart, mamma." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering had already gone far beyond 
 the limits she usually prescribed for herself, in 
 asking these questions of her daughter ; and 
 there was nothing in Ellen's manner to en-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 263 
 
 courage her to do further violence to her nature. 
 Her next observation referred to matters of a 
 different kind. 
 
 " I think, my dear, you ought to call on Miss 
 Glossop to-morrow. To say the least of it, she 
 was always very polite to you, and paid you the 
 highest compliment she could, by associating you 
 with herself in her parish duties. I don't like 
 you to neglect old friends, Ellen." 
 
 " I will call, mamma." 
 
 " And don't make a point of talking to her 
 about the Arnolds. It is quite sufficiently un- 
 derstood by everybody how entirely you and 
 Maurice are wrapt up in them." 
 
 " I, mamma ?" 
 
 " Yes, you, Ellen." (And here the mother, 
 always steadily continuing her work, began to 
 warm a little.) " I don't mean to reproach or 
 blame you, my dear, but nothing is so plain as 
 that you are happier with them than with any- 
 body else."
 
 264 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " Who else do I know, mamma ? And really, 
 if you consider for a moment, you will be at a 
 loss to name any proofs of extraordinary attach- 
 ment that I have ever evinced towards these 
 friends of my brother." 
 
 " We are not going to enter upon a war of 
 words, Ellen. They are good people, of course, 
 and it is not their fault that they are less re- 
 fined and intellectual than should have been the 
 companions I would have selected for you. 
 Perhaps, when Maurice leaves us, (though I 
 never dare anticipate his going), the great in- 
 timacy at present existing will diminish. I am 
 aware that you are much less an attraction to 
 them than your brother." 
 
 Although this was quite true in its literal 
 sense, Ellen felt that it implied in her mother's 
 mind an injustice the Arnolds were far from 
 deserving ; and she answered, with more excite- 
 ment than she had yet shown — 
 
 " I am sure Maurice seeks them much of-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 265 
 
 tener than they seek him. It is perfectly clear 
 that he likes Grace ; but I don't believe that 
 either her brother or herself have the slightest 
 idea of such a thing." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering had laid down her work at 
 last, and Ellen saw that some strong emotion 
 was driving the faint colour from her cheek, 
 and filling her eyes with tears. The daugh- 
 ter regretted sincerely having spoken so 
 openly. 
 
 " If, indeed, it is as you assert, Ellen, Maurice 
 is lost to me for ever, I will not prevent his hap- 
 piness — sooner should my own heart break with 
 its disappointment — but I could not, I could no t 
 live in a circle of which these people would be 
 the centre. I could not, without a slow torture 
 that would destroy me, continually take that 
 girl in my arms and call her daughter — Maurice 
 must be mad !" 
 
 "Dear mamma, you are looking at it too 
 seriously. I only said I believed he liked her.
 
 266 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 I cannot tell whether he will ever ask her to be 
 his wife." 
 
 " Oh ! I see it all now ; don't talk to me 
 about it, Ellen. My mind has been upset. You 
 had better get a little walk this fine evening." 
 
 " I will go and water the garden, mamma, 
 and come to you again in half an hour." 
 
 " As you please, my dear — but one moment, 
 Nelly — promise me faithfully that you will never, 
 under any circumstances, let Maurice know what 
 I have said about Grace Arnold to-night." 
 
 " I promise you, mamma." 
 
 " That will do ; and now I would rather be 
 alone."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 267 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 It wanted but two days to the time when 
 Maurice was to leave his mother and sister, to 
 commence the studies that were to fit him for 
 the vocation he had chosen. Mrs. Clavering 
 had claimed him for the whole morning, (she 
 had been noble and unselfish enough to conceal 
 almost entirely the intense sorrow the thought 
 of this parting occasioned her), but in the even- 
 ing, the brother and sister were to walk toge- 
 ther to the Arnolds for Maurice to bid farewell 
 to Grace, who, for some little time past, had 
 been too unwell to go from home at all.
 
 268 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 Ellen had struggled bravely with her despon- 
 dency, as long as her mother's eye was upon 
 her ; but alone now with the darling brother 
 she was so soon to lose, walking by his side, 
 through scenes that had grown very dear to her 
 in the calm, untroubled life of the last two 
 months, she felt as if any further restraint were 
 impossible ; and with the first loving word that 
 Maurice addressed to her, the impatient tears 
 broke forth, and he was answered only by those 
 passionate sobs, which, while they wrung his 
 gentle and affectionate heart, told him in the 
 plainest language, that he was well and dearly 
 loved. 
 
 " Nelly, Nelly, don't cry so, this parting is 
 but for a little while ; we shall write to each other 
 constantly, and I shall leave you with the friends 
 that you have learned to appreciate nearly, if 
 not quite, as much as I do." 
 
 " They will be nothing to me, without you, 
 Maurice ; they do not care for me."
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 269 
 
 " Hush, my Nelly ; you know far otherwise, 
 Grace will be to you as a loving sister ; she has 
 a good, pure, true woman's heart, that is never 
 so well content as when it can comfort those 
 who are in sorrow, and as for her brother, he 
 will be to you all that I or our dear father could 
 have been. I have committed you in a most 
 special manner to his care, which I could not 
 have done, dear," continued Maurice with a 
 sudden attempt at gaiety, " had he been a 
 younger or more attractive man." 
 
 Ellen did not smile. She was not thinking 
 of Mr. Arnold just then. 
 
 " I must ask Grace to preach courage to 
 you," said Maurice, finding his still weeping 
 companion indisposed to reply to him. " She, 
 at least, is not likely to pay me the compliment 
 of crying at my departure." 
 
 " I shall never like her again if she does not," 
 exclaimed Ellen, with a sudden burst of indig- 
 nation that, for a moment, checked her tears,
 
 270 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 " but with all their goodness, they certainly are 
 cold-hearted, these friends of ours. You must 
 admit that yourself, Maurice. ,, 
 
 " And if I cannot admit it, Nelly ?" 
 
 " It is because you will not. I am not going 
 in with you to-night, Maurice, to show these red 
 and swollen eyes of mine. You can leave me 
 on that bank, just before we come to the house. 
 I shall really be glad to be alone.' ' 
 
 " Must I give in to you, most wilful sister 
 mine?" 
 
 " You must indeed." 
 
 " And when I return, shall I find you 
 better ?" 
 
 " Yes, I promise you, you shall." 
 
 " Here we are then, Nelly, so now wrap your 
 shawl closely round you, for the air is getting 
 fresh, and don't let the gipsies or anyone else 
 run away with you, till I come back." 
 
 " Poor Maurice," said Ellen, looking after him 
 through the tears which she had begun to wipe
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 271 
 
 away ; " he thinks I cannot guess what words 
 will be spoken in that quiet garden to-night, 
 nor why he is so anxious to see a smile on my 
 face when he returns. I will smile, whatever 
 he tells me ; she is a good little girl, and shall 
 find a sister, if she does not find a mother — and 
 yet, poor mamma !" 
 
 The evening shadows had fallen upon every 
 object around Ellen's bank, and the blue of the 
 clear sky had changed to a grey purple, in the 
 midst of which a pale, shadowy-looking moon 
 was just beginning to be visible, before there 
 were any signs of Maurice's errand being ended. 
 Apparently, it took time to say farewell to so 
 quiet and demure a little personage as Grace 
 Arnold. 
 
 But it was growing cold, and the sister's pa- 
 tience was waning fast, when looking towards 
 the house, which was not a hundred yards from 
 the spot where her brother had left her, she 
 saw the garden-door open slowly, and Maurice
 
 272 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 and Grace come out, still more slowly, to- 
 gether. 
 
 Politeness and kind feeling both urged her, 
 in spite of her momentary resentment at being 
 forgotten, to rise and meet them. 
 
 Grace was looking thin and delicate, but there 
 came a quick crimson flush over her pale face 
 as Ellen approached, and, with an encouraging 
 smile, held out her hand and said, " How are 
 you to-night, dear?" 
 
 Maurice, whose countenance expressed a quiet, 
 satisfied happiness, blended with some recent 
 emotion, passed his arm round his sister's waist, 
 and drew her gently and pleadingly nearer to 
 the trembling girl beside him. And then, Ellen, 
 understanding him, took Grace to her heart, 
 and kissing her with warmth and tenderness, 
 bade her rest assured that she had found a 
 sister, as well as a friend. 
 
 " God bless you both !" said Maurice, deeply 
 affected, and still holding their hands together,
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 273 
 
 when Ellen had released the now sobbing 
 Grace. " You must meet often, and comfort 
 each other, when I am gone. To-morrow, I 
 shall fetch this frightened little girl, and present 
 her to my mother, who will love her, first for 
 my sake, and afterwards, for her own. And 
 now, Gracie, it is getting much too cold for you 
 to be out ; so we will leave you at your own 
 door, and make haste home ourselves. Nelly, 
 too, is shivering." 
 
 All this time poor Grace had never spoken a 
 single word, and when she did open her lips, it 
 was only to say " good-night/' in a faint voice, 
 to the brother and sister ; nevertheless, there 
 was something in her face, and in that last kiss 
 she imprinted on Ellen's cheek, that fully con- 
 vinced the latter she had no cold or ungrateful 
 heart to deal with here. 
 
 " Never fear, Maurice," she said, as they 
 walked rapidly towards home, " I shall love 
 her well, come what may ; and now, that 1 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 know she is to be your wife, nobody shall be 
 her enemy, without being mine." 
 
 Maurice pressed his sister's arm in token of 
 his cordial appreciation of her kindness, but he 
 did not reply, because, now that all the excite- 
 ment and uncertainty about winning Grace was 
 over, he could not help thinking rather anxiously 
 concerning his mother's reception of her. 
 
 That she would not violently or obstinately 
 oppose his choice, he was thoroughly persuaded. 
 Could he not have given this assurance to Grace, 
 she would never have listened to him ; but calm 
 reflection told him now, as, indeed, it had often 
 told him before, that Mrs. Clavering had no 
 love for either of the Arnolds. 
 
 " You must leave rne now for an hour to-night 
 with my mother, Nelly dear," he said, as they 
 arrived at length at the gate of their little garden. 
 " When the conference is finished, I will come 
 and tell you. Can you manage to amuse your- 
 self in your own room till then ?"
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 275 
 
 " Oh, yes, I have to write to Norah, and you 
 know my letters to her are not scribbled off in 
 five minutes. I shall only be anxious about 
 your interview; Maurice — break it gently to 
 mamma/' 
 
 "Poor Grace!" he said, more to himself 
 than to his sister. 
 
 And Ellen saw, how, even with one so good 
 and calm and self-sacrificing as Maurice, this 
 heart-love had triumphed over the ties and the 
 affections of nature and kindred. 
 
 The letter to Norah was finished, sealed and 
 directed ; and all the thoughts of old times — 
 sad, sweet, and strange, that had been suggested 
 by this voiceless communion with one who 
 seemed already part of the past, had been 
 dwelt upon till they lost their power to engross, 
 before Ellen's privacy was disturbed, or a single 
 murmur of what was going on below wafted to 
 her anxious, if not impatient ear. 
 
 Then Maurice came, and telling her briefly 
 
 T 2
 
 276 TRIED IN TF1E FIRE. 
 
 that it was all right at length, begged her to go 
 down, and spend the remainded of the evening 
 with their mother. 
 
 Mrs. Clavering welcomed her daughter 
 kindly, but Ellen saw that she had been greatly 
 agitated, and knew not in what way to make 
 herself the most agreeable. After a few mi- 
 nutes' silence, she asked if she should read 
 aloud. 
 
 " No, my love," said Mrs. Clavering, trying 
 to shake off the gloom that threatened to 
 master her ; " but I should like to hear you 
 sing, if the piano is not too much out of 
 tune." 
 
 Ellen had never even opened the instrument, 
 since her father's death, but she went to it now 
 immediately, and sang, one after another, all her 
 mother's favourite songs. 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," was the reward she 
 received, " your voice must not much longer be 
 neglected ; it is well worth the most careful cul-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 277 
 
 tivation, and I am quite determined that no ex- 
 pense shall be spared." 
 
 " What do you mean, mamma? Do I not 
 sing well enough to please you ?" 
 
 " To please me certainly, Ellen ; but I mean 
 you to please others, and not only to please, but 
 to astonish them, by-and-bye. Ring for the 
 supper-tray now, dearest, and let your brother 
 be called."
 
 278 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Mrs. Clavering and her daughter were sitting 
 at work together, in their cheerful little parlour, 
 on the following morning, when Maurice, who 
 had been out very early, arrived with Grace 
 Arnold on his arm. 
 
 " Here they are, dear mamma/' Ellen had 
 said, as she looked up on hearing the sudden 
 unlatching of the garden-gate ; " shall I run and 
 bring Grace in to you ?" 
 
 "No, sit still; and never fear, Ellen, I will 
 not disappoint your brother." 
 
 " Mother, dear mother, here is my little
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 279 
 
 Grace," said Maurice, appearing in the door- 
 way, closely followed by his pale companion ; 
 " she is very tired from her long walk, and I 
 must leave her with you for a minute, while I 
 go and fetch her a glass of wine." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering, who had that fixed red upon 
 her cheeks which always came with excitement, 
 rose slowly, and advanced to meet her future 
 daughter-in-law. Taking both her hands, she 
 led her to the sofa, and then untying her bonnet, 
 compelled her to lie down, — for, indeed, she was 
 looking as if she would presently faint away, — 
 and finally pressed her lips kindly, if not' 
 warmly, upon the cold forehead of the poor girl 
 she was thus intending to welcome. 
 
 " Thank you, thank you," was all Grace 
 could say, but her evident humility and emotion 
 seemed to touch the mother's heart. 
 
 " Henceforth, my dear, you must consider 
 this a second home, and believe that nothing 
 that is precious to my son, can ever be under-
 
 280 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 valued by me. You are both very young, but I am 
 persuaded that your attachment is founded on 
 mutual esteem and confidence. I presume also 
 that it has the entire sanction of your brother, 
 who, of course, is at present your only legal 
 guardian." 
 
 " My brother," replied Grace simply, " thinks 
 more highly of Mr. Clavering than of any 
 friend we have — but he knew nothing ot this 
 until last night, and I believe he will come soon 
 to talk to you about it." 
 
 " Well, don't fatigue yourself now, my dear; 
 you are looking so dreadfully white, that Mau- 
 rice will doubt my having taken care of you. 
 Ellen, my love, go and see if he is coming 
 with the wine." 
 
 When the brother and sister entered together, 
 followed by the servant with a tray of refresh- 
 ments, Grace was leaning back on the sofa, with 
 her eyes closed, in obedience to Mrs. Clavering's 
 orders; and Mrs. Clavering was watching her
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 281 
 
 as fixedly and intently as if she thought to read 
 all her son's future destiny in that pale and 
 meek and quiet face. 
 
 But Ellen and Maurice soon altered this 
 uninteresting state of affairs, and compelling 
 their guest to take some wine and cake, which 
 brought back a little colour into her marble 
 cheeks, they talked and laughed till she was 
 necessitated to join them, and to forget by 
 degrees that she had just gone through the 
 most agitating scene of all her young life. 
 
 In parting, Mrs. Clavering kissed her again, 
 and repeated her desire that she should come 
 very often to see them. They would be dull, 
 she added, w 7 hen Maurice had left them, and 
 Grace would seem henceforth like a part of 
 himself. 
 
 The timid fiancee looked almost pretty in 
 the vivid blushes that mantled over her face at 
 these gracious words — 
 
 " I shall only be too happy to come, ,, she
 
 282 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 replied, in a scarcely audible voice — ' ' and to 
 prove to you by every means in my power how 
 grateful I am for your kindness.",,' 
 
 Maurice accompanied Grace to her home 
 again, and on his return sought his mother, who 
 had been alone in her bedroom ever since the 
 departure of her guest. 
 
 " Well, my son, are you satisfied with me ? 
 have I fulfilled my promise ? " 
 
 These were her first words, as he came up 
 to her, and passed his arm caressingly round 
 her neck. 
 
 " Quite satisfied, dear mother — but you will 
 try to love her for her own sake as well as for 
 mine — will you not ? " 
 
 "I will, Maurice — I am sure she is very 
 good—" 
 
 " But you are thinking of something apart 
 from Grace's goodness at this moment, mother. 
 I read it in the preoccupied expression of your
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 283 
 
 eye, which is striving to follow the mind into 
 some regions far away. " 
 
 " It may be so, Maurice, though you must not 
 infer from this any want of interest in your hap- 
 piness. If I told you what my thoughts were 
 just then, I fear you would scarcely sympathize 
 with me. " 
 
 " Try me, mother — you know I am not 
 generally backward in entering into your hopes 
 and fears. " 
 
 " Well then, my son, I was thinking that as 
 you are to make a love match, I may be excused 
 if I allow a mother's natural ambition for her 
 children to influence me a little in my schemes 
 for your sister. Having done nothing to thwart 
 you in your inclinations, Maurice, I am sure I 
 may trust to your gratitude and generosity not 
 to thwart me hereafter in mine. " 
 
 Maurice had listened to the foregoing with 
 feelings in which surprise certainly predomi- 
 nated, though mingling with it was deep regret
 
 284 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 that a parent he loved and reverenced, could 
 seriously talk of ambition, in connection with 
 the future prospects of a daughter. 
 
 " Dearest mother/' he said earnestly, " you 
 may believe me when I assure you that 
 highly as I prize the chances of happiness held 
 out to me by an union with Grace, I should 
 think it all too dearly bought, if it caused you 
 to deny to poor Nelly the same privilege you 
 have so generously bestowed on me. If ever 
 she marries at all, let it be with the full consent 
 of her own heart and reason ; otherwise it would 
 be far, far better that she remained Ellen Cla- 
 vering to the end of her life." 
 
 Mrs. Clavering smiled a little, though not 
 very cheerfully, at her son's enthusiasm. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, Maurice. I am not a cold- 
 hearted tyrant, nor even much of a manoeuvring 
 mother yet ; but I certainly hold the doctrine, 
 absurd to youthful ears, that it is possible, just 
 possible, to find amiability and all necessary men-
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 285 
 
 tal endowments combined with good birth and 
 a distinguished position in society. Should I 
 be disappointed in this expectation, depend upon 
 it I will not force a husband upon my good little 
 Nelly, whom, indeed, it would break my heart to 
 give to anybody." 
 
 If there was the slightest tincture of bitterness 
 or sarcasm in this speech, Maurice would not 
 perceive it. The mother and son had only a 
 few precious hours to spend together now, and 
 these must be devoted to far other feelings than 
 anger or recrimination. And, in truth, Mrs. 
 Clavering loved her first-born too entirely, and 
 devotedly, to cherish or express towards him 
 (except under a momentary excitement) any 
 sentiment but that of the tenderest affection. 
 
 The last evening was a time of long-remem- 
 bered sadness and depression to all the little 
 party at the cottage. It was in vain that either 
 of them strove to look or speak cheerfully, or 
 to forget, in talking of indifferent things, the
 
 286 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 trial that awaited them on the morrow. This 
 parting with Maurice seemed like a sudden re- 
 opening of the wounds so recently closed ; and 
 more than anything else, they dreaded the 
 blank that would be left by this second break 
 in their already narrowed circle. 
 
 Maurice himself was unusually restless and ill 
 at ease. Independently of the real sorrow he 
 felt in leaving his mother, sister, and young 
 betrothed, there was to him the formidable and 
 nameless dread of going amongst strangers, and 
 being compelled to come out of his hitherto half 
 dreamy life, to mingle as a man with his fellow 
 men. Nothing less than the imperative dictates 
 of a conscience that he had learned to obey be- 
 fore all else, could have given him courage for 
 such a step ; but his fleshly heart often sank at 
 the anticipation of it, and there were times when 
 he would have sacrificed worlds, had he pos- 
 sessed them, to have remained in the retirement 
 which had become more than ever dear to him.
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 287 
 
 A very little of all this he expressed to Ellen, 
 as they walked in the twilight round the garden 
 together, while Mrs. Clavering was temporarily 
 engaged in-doors. 
 
 " And yet," replied the sister, looking affec- 
 tionately into the thoughtful face of her com- 
 panion — "yours seems likely to be a calm and 
 pleasant destiny, Maurice. United, as you pro- 
 bably, will be in a year or two, to her you have 
 chosen, living in some quiet country spot, with 
 all the loveliness of nature around you, and a 
 few hundred simple, uncorrupted souls to guide 
 into the way of truth — what more could you 
 ask or desire? I often think that we shall 
 see fulfilled in your experience that encou- 
 raging promise of Scripture, * Seek ye first 
 the kingdom of God and His righteous- 
 ness, and all these things shall be added unto 
 you/ " 
 
 11 Perhaps, dear Ellen, your picture is a little 
 more poetical than true," replied Maurice, with
 
 288 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 a smile — " since I may just as probably be called 
 to exercise my future ministry in an ugly town, 
 as in your arcadian country — and as for the 
 few hundred simple, uncorrupted souls, that you 
 have given me, I should like to know where in 
 all our artificial sin-sick world they are to be 
 found. Nevertheless (for I see you are begin- 
 ning to suspect me of the basest ingratitude) 
 I am not insensible to the prospect of a calm, 
 retired existence which a merciful Father has 
 allowed me to hope for. If you, dearest Nelly, 
 foresee and dread, in your own case, the reverse 
 — what should hinder you from entering into 
 the conditions of the verse you have just 
 quoted ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell, Maurice. Sometimes I think 
 it would be easy to give up all for the Kingdom 
 of Heaven's sake — but then a wild and wicked 
 spirit within me appears to hold me back, and 
 to suggest that I must first live, see, enjoy, and 
 suffer. I know, I am certain that my life will
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 289 
 
 be a stormy one — the very antipodes of yours — 
 but, dear Maurice, I know too, that when I 
 have been buffeted by the angry waves, beaten 
 against the hard, cold rocks, and am utterly 
 tempest- tossed and weary, I shall always find 
 an ark of refuge in your peaceful home. I shall 
 come to you and your gentle Grace some day, 
 and say pleadingly, ' Take me in !' " 
 
 " Why, Nelly, what has given you these dis- 
 mal fancies to-night? Anybody would think 
 you had been reading a gloomy romance, whose 
 nonsense had worked upon your foolish little 
 brain. Come, help me to gather a bouquet that 
 I will leave as a farewell gift to poor Gracie. 
 She is not romantic and imaginative like you, 
 Nelly; but she will grieve in her quiet way, 
 when I am gone." 
 
 " I will do my best to comfort her, Maurice 
 — and yet I shall want comfort sorely myself." 
 
 " And my mother, too, though she will never 
 
 vol. i. u
 
 290 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 
 
 talk much about it — I fear I have sadly, sadly 
 disappointed her in my choice of a wife ; but she 
 must love Grace in the end." 
 
 " Yes, for all will go right with you, Maurice, 
 and your days flow tranquilly on, like the course 
 of a pure, sweetly murmuring stream. Don't 
 call me romantic because I prophesy good things 
 for a brother who deserves them all, but give 
 me credit for rejoicing sincerely in your destiny 
 without wishing one tiny ray of sunshine with- 
 drawn from it to lessen the shadiness of my 
 own." 
 
 "Ellen, darling, you will make me sadder 
 than I am even disposed to be, if you continue 
 talking in such a melancholy fashion. There, 
 I have run the thorn of this red rose deep into 
 my finger, which we may take as an omen that 
 life will have some wounds for me as well as for 
 you. Hark! did not somebody call ?" 
 
 " Yes, it is poor mamma ; so we must lay
 
 TRIED IN THE FIRE. 291 
 
 aside all prophetic visions, and try to cheer her 
 in her present desolation. Here is my contribu- 
 tion to your love gift, dear Maurice — and now 
 let us go in." 
 
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 standard works of fiction." — Family Herald. 
 
 '' This is an experiment, and a successfurone." — Atlas. 
 
 XV. 
 
 In 3 vols., price 31s. 6d. 
 
 THE CAMPBELLS. 
 
 "The story is full of interest." — Enquirer. 
 
 XVI, 
 In 3 vols., price 31s. 6d. 
 
 EBB AND FLOW. 
 
 " It will amuse those who like to find something out of the 
 usual even tenor of a novel; to such it can fairly he recommend- 
 ed." — -The Sun. 
 
 XVII. 
 In 1 vol., price 7s. 6d. 
 
 MILLY WARRENER. 
 
 "A pleasant, unpretending story; it is a life-like story of a 
 youug country girl more refined than her station. There are little 
 incidental sketches of country characters which are clever and 
 spirited." — Athenceum. 
 
 XVIII. 
 In 3 vols., price 31s. 6d. 
 
 MASTER AND PUPIL. 
 
 By MRS. MACKENZIE DANIELS.
 
 MR. NEWBY S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 5 
 
 XIX. 
 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. (In November.) 
 
 SPIRITUALISM, AND THE AGE WE 
 LIVE IN. 
 
 By CATHARINE CROWE, 
 
 Author of " The Night Side of Nature," " Ghost Stories," &c. 
 
 XX. 
 
 In 2 vols, post Svo., price 21s. 
 
 MY FIRST TRAVELS; 
 
 Including Rides in the Pyrenees ; Scenes during an Inundation at 
 Avignon ; Sketches in France and Savoy ; Visits to Convents 
 and Houses of Charity, &c. &c. 
 
 By SEL1NA BUNBURY. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 In 1 vol. post 8vo., price 10s. 6d. 
 
 OUR PLAGUE SPOT: 
 
 In connection with our Polity and Usages as regards our Women, 
 our Soldiery, and the Indian Empire. 
 
 XXII. 
 In 2 vols., price 21s. 
 
 AMERICAN PHOTOGRAPHS. 
 
 By the MISSES TURNBULL. 
 
 " It is exceedinglv amushur, and marked bv energy and power." 
 —Globe. 
 
 " Twenty-six thousand miles of travel, by two young ladies, in 
 search of the new, the beautiful, and the instructive ! We do 
 not know that a reader could desire more amusing compagnons de 
 voyage than these two sprightly, intelligent, well-educated, and 
 observant young Englishwomen." — Morning Advertiser. 
 
 " A number of amusing anecdotes give life and interest to the 
 narrative." — Brighton Examiner. 
 
 M Very pleasant gossipping volumes." — Critic. 
 V u These volumes are replete with lively, entertaining sketches of 
 American manners and customs, sayings and doings." — Naval 
 and Military. 
 
 " Contains much information respecting the manners and habits 
 of our transatlantic cousins." — Sun. 
 
 " The narrative is evidently truthful, as it is clear and intelli- 
 gible." — Herald.
 
 MR. NEWEY S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 XXIII. 
 In 1 vol., price 10s. 6d. 
 
 SUNDAY, THE REST OF LABOUR. 
 
 Dedicated to the Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 
 *' This important subject is discussed ably and temperately ; and 
 though many differences will arise in the minds of some of our 
 clergy, as well as some pious laymen, it should be added to every 
 library." — Herald. 
 
 u Written by a churchman, who is evidently a man with deep 
 and sincere religious feelings. His book is temperately written, 
 and will have a wholesome tendency, if wisely received." — Eaminer. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 In 1 vol., price 2s. 6d. 
 
 DRAWING ROOM CHARADES FOR 
 ACTING. 
 
 By C. WARREN ADAMS, Esq. 
 
 " A valuable addition to Christmas diversions. It consists of a 
 number of well-constructed scenes for charades." — Guardian. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 In 1 vol., price 12s. 
 
 MERRIE ENGLAND. 
 
 By LORD WILLIAM LENNOX. 
 
 "It overflows with racy, poignant anecdotes of a generation just 
 passed away. The book is destined to lie upon the tables of many 
 a country mansion." — Leader. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. 
 
 KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 By MRS. AGAR. 
 
 M Nothing can be more appropriate than this little volume, from 
 which the young will learn how their forefathers venerated and 
 fought to preserve those places hallowed by the presence of the 
 Saviour. ' ' — Guardian. 
 
 u Mrs Agar has written a book which young and old may read 
 with profit and pleasure." — Sunday Times. 
 
 " It is a work of care and research, which parents may well 
 wish to see in the hands of their children." — Leader. 
 
 " A well- written history of the Crusades, pleasant to read, and 
 good to look upon." — Critic.
 
 MR. newby's new publications. 7 
 
 XXVII. 
 In 1 vol. post 8vo. price 30s. 6d. 
 
 AN AUTUMN IN SILESIA, AUSTRIA 
 PROPER, AND THE OBER ENNS. 
 
 By the Author of " Travels in Bohemia." 
 XXVIII. 
 
 STEPS ON THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 » This is a step in the right way, and ought to be in the hands 
 ^^^ro h r afo ( Ts^ e cef,^^:«n-eonst^neted 1W1. tale h 
 
 "i^EF^'liSSii are traced in a loving spirit 
 
 dition of the destitute of ^nr -s and ah s^ Jhe ™,a, 
 l^Tstund 'after^ny'da^to the saving aud happiness of all 
 therein concerned."— Athcnteum. 
 
 XXIX. 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. 
 
 FISHES AND FISHING. 
 
 ByW. WRIGHT, Es«. 
 "Anglers will find it worth their while to profit by the author's 
 
 «. (itSdta sources which could he depended upon, and 
 worthy to be remembered, relative to angling in all if branches. 
 —Lancet. xxx 
 
 DEAFNESS AND D ISEASES OF THE EAR. 
 
 The Fallacies of the Treatment exposed and Remedies suggested. 
 
 From the Experience of half a Centun . 
 
 By W. WRIGHT, Esq., 
 
 Surgeon Aurist to her late Majesty, Queen Charlotte.
 
 8 ME. NEWBY'S IN'EW publications. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 In 1 vol. post 8vo. 10s. 6d. 
 
 ZEAL IN THE WORK OF THE 
 MINISTRY. 
 
 By L'ABBE DUBOIS. 
 
 " There is a tone of piety and reality in the work of l'Abbe 
 Dubois, and a unity of aim, which is to fix the priest's mind on 
 the duties and responsibilities of his whole position, and which we 
 admire. The writer is occupied supremely with one thought of 
 contributing to the salvation of souls and to the glory of God." — 
 Literary Churchman. 
 
 XXXII. 
 In 1 vol., price 10s. 6d. 
 
 THE NEW EL DORADO; or 
 
 BRITISH COLUMBIA. 
 By KINAHAN CORNWALLIS. 
 
 " The book is full of information as to the best modes existing 
 or expected of reaching these enviable countries." — Morning 
 Chronicle. 
 
 "The book gives all the information which it is possible to ob- 
 tain i-especting the new colony called British Columbia. The book 
 is altogether one of a most interesting and instructive character." 
 — The Star. 
 
 " The work is very spiritedly written, and will amuse and in- 
 struct." — Observer. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 In 2 vols, post 8vo., price 21s. 
 
 A PANORAMA OF THE NEW WORLD. 
 
 By KINAHAN CORNWALLIS, 
 
 Author of " Two Journeys to Japan," &c. 
 
 11 Nothing can be more spirited, graphic, and full of interest, 
 nothing more pictorial or brilliant in its execution and animation." 
 —Globe. 
 
 " One of the most amusing tales ever written." — Review. 
 
 " He is a lively, rattling writer. The sketches of Peruvian 
 Life and manners are fresh, racy and vigorous. The volumes 
 abound with amusing anecdotes and conversations." — Weekly Mail.
 
 MR. NEWBY'8 new publications. 9 
 
 XXXIV. 
 In 1 vol., price 10s. 6<1. 
 
 NIL DESPERANDUM, 
 
 BEING AN ESCAPE FROM ITALIAN DUNGEONS. 
 
 u We find the volume entertaining, and really Italian in spirit." 
 — AthencEum. 
 
 " There is much fervour in this romantic narrative of suffering.'* 
 '—Examiner. 
 
 XXXV. 
 In 1 vol. 8vo. price 10s. 6d. 
 
 LIFE OF ALEXANDER THE FIRST. 
 
 By IVAN GOLOVIN. 
 " It is a welcome contribution to Russian imperial biography." 
 — Leader. 
 
 "Mr. Golovin possesses fresher information, a fresher mind and 
 manner applied to Russian affairs, than foreigners are likely to 
 possess." — Spectator. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 In 2 vols., price 21s. 
 
 THIRTY-FIVE YEARS OF A DRAMATIC 
 AUTHORS LIFE. 
 
 By EDWARD FITZBALL, Esa. 
 
 " We scarcely remember any biography so replete with anec- 
 dotes of the most agreeable description. Everybody in the thea- 
 trical world, and a great many out of it, figure in this admirable 
 biography." — Globe. 
 
 "One of the most curious collections of histrionic incidents 
 ever put together. Fitzball numbers his admirers not by hun- 
 dreds and thousands, but by millions." — Liverpool Albion. 
 
 "A most wonderful book about all sorts of persons." — Birming- 
 ham Journal. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 In 1 vol., price 10s. 6d. 
 
 GHOST STORIES. 
 
 By CATHARINE CROWE, 
 Author of " Night Side of Nature." 
 "Mrs. Crowe's volume will delight the lovers of the super- 
 natural, and their name is legion." — Morning Post. 
 %>'* These Tales are calculated to excite ali the feelings of awe, 
 and we may say of terror, with which Ghost Stories have ever 
 been read." — Morning Advertiser.
 
 10 MR. NEWBY'S NEW TUBLICATIONS. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 In 2 vols, post 8vo. 
 
 TEA TABLE TALK. 
 
 By MRS. MATHEWS. 
 
 " Livingstone's Africa, and Mrs. Mathews' Tea Table Talk will 
 be the two most popular works of the season." — Bicester Herald. 
 
 " It is ordinary criticism to say of a good gossipping book, that 
 it is a volume for the sea-side, or for the fireside, or wet weather, 
 or for a sunny nook, or in a shady grove, or for after dinner over 
 wine and walnuts. Now these lively, gossipping volumes will be 
 found adapted to all these places, times, and circumstances. They 
 are brimfull of anecdotes. There are pleasant little biographical 
 sketches and ambitious essays." — Athenasum. 
 
 " The anecdotes are replete with point and novelty and truth- 
 fulness." — Sporting Magazine. 
 
 " No better praise can be given by us than to say, that we con- 
 sider this work one of, if not the most agreeable books that has 
 come under our notice." — Guardian. 
 
 " For Book Clubs and Reading Societies no work can be found 
 that will prove more agreeable." — Express. 
 
 ** The widow of the late, and the mother of the present Charles 
 Mathews would, under any circumstances, command our respect, 
 and if we could not conscientiously praise her work, we should be 
 slow to condemn it. Happily, however, the volumes in question 
 are so good, that in giving this our favourable notice we are only 
 doing justice to the literary character of the writer ; her anecdotes 
 are replete with point and novelty and truthfulness that stamps 
 hem genuine." — Sporting Review. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 In 2 vols., post 8vo., price 21s. 
 
 TWO JOURNEYS TO JAPAN. 
 
 By KINAHAN COENWALLIS. 
 
 "The mystery of Japan melts away as we follow Mr. Cornwallis- 
 He enjoyed most marvellous good fortune, for he carried a speU 
 with him which dissipated Japanese suspicion and procured him 
 all sorts of privileges. His knowledge of Japan is considerable. 
 It is an amusing book." — Athenceum. 
 
 "This is an amusing book, pleasanly written, and evidencing 
 generous feeling." — Literary Gazette. 
 
 " We can honestly recommend Mr. Cornwallis's book to our 
 readers." — Morning Herald. 
 
 " The country under his pencil comes out fresh, dewy, and 
 picturesque before the eye. The volumes are full of amusement, 
 lively and graphic." — Chambers' Journal.
 
 MR. newby's new publications.' 11 
 
 XL. 
 
 In 1 vol. post 8vo., price 10s. 6d. 
 
 HISTORICAL GLEANINGS 
 
 AT HOME AND ABROAD. 
 By MRS. JAMIESON. 
 " This work is characterized by forcible and correct descriptions 
 of men and manners in bygone years. It is replete with passages 
 of the deepest interest." — Review. 
 
 XLI. 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. 
 
 THINGS WORTH KNOWING ABOUT 
 HORSES. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER. 
 " "From the days of Nimrod until now no man has made so 
 many, few more valuable additions to what may be called ' Sport- 
 ing Literature.' To those skilled in horses this little volume will 
 be very welcome, whilst to the raw youth its teachings will be as 
 precious as refined gold." — Critic. 
 
 " Into this little volume Harry Hieover has contrived to cram 
 an innumerable quantity of things worth knowing about the tricks 
 and bad habits of all kinds of horses, harness, starting, shying 
 and trotting; about driving; about the treatment of ailing horses; 
 about corns, peculiarities of shape and make ; and about stables, 
 training, and general treatment." — Field. 
 
 u It is a useful hand-book about horses." — Daily Telegraph. 
 
 " Few men have produced better works upon the subject of 
 horses than Harry Hieover." — Revieiv. 
 
 "The author has omitted nothing of interest in his 'Things 
 worth knowing about horses.' " — Alhenasum. 
 
 XLII. 
 In 1 vol., demy 8vo., price 12s. 
 
 THE SPORTSMAN'S FRIEND IN A 
 FROST. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER. 
 
 " Harry Hieover's practical knowledge and long experience in 
 field sports, render his writings ever amusing and instructive. He 
 relates most pleasing anecdotes of flood and field, and is well 
 worthy of study." — The Field. 
 
 "No sportsman's library should be without it." — Sporting 
 Magazine. 
 
 '• There is amusement as well as intelligence in Harry Hieover's 
 book." — Athenceum.
 
 12 MR. NEWBY'8 NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 XLIII. 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. 
 
 THE SPORTING WORLD. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER. 
 
 ** Reading Harry Hieover's book is like listening lazily and 
 luxuriously after dinner to a quiet, gentlemanlike, clever talker." — 
 Athenceum. 
 
 * It will be perused with pleasure by all who take an interest 
 in the manly game of our fatherland. It ought to be added to 
 every sportsman's library.'" — Sporting Review. 
 
 XLIV. 
 In 1 vol. demy 8vo., price 12s. 
 
 SPORTING FACTS AND SPORTING 
 FANCIES. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER, 
 
 Author of " Stable Talk and Table Talk," "The Pocket and the 
 Stud," " The Hunting Field," &c. 
 
 " This work will make a valuable and interesting addition to 
 the Sportman's Library." — BelVs Life. 
 
 " In addition to the immense mass of practical and useful in- 
 formation with which this work abounds, there is a refreshing 
 buoyancy and dash about the style, which makes it as attractive 
 and fascinating as the pages of the renowned Nimrod himself." — 
 Dispatch. 
 
 f?~"It contains graphic sketches of celebrated young sporting 
 characters." — Sunday Times. 
 
 XLV. 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. Third edition. 
 
 THE PROPER CONDITION FOR ALL 
 HORSES. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER. 
 
 "It should be in the hands of all owners of horses." — BeUs 
 Life. 
 
 " A work which every owner of a horse will do well to consult." 
 — Morning Herald. 
 
 " Every man who is about purchasing a horse, whether it be 
 hunter, riding-horse, lady's palfrey, or cart-horse, will do well to 
 make himself acquainted with the contents of this book." — 
 Sporting Magazine.
 
 MR. newby's new publications. 13 
 
 XLVI. 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. " 
 
 THE WORLD AND HOW TO SQUARE IT. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER. 
 
 XLVI I. 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. 
 
 PRECEPT AND PRACTICE. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER. 
 
 xLvm. 
 In 1 vol., price 5s. 
 
 HINTS TO HORSEMEN, 
 
 SHEWING HOW TO MAKE MONEY, BY HORSES. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER. 
 
 "When Harry Hicover gives hints to Horsemen, he does not 
 mean by that term riders exclusively, but owners, breeders, buyers, 
 sellers, and admirers of horses. To teach such men how to make 
 money is to impart no valueless instruction to a large class of 
 mankind. The advice is frankly given, and if no henefit result, 
 it will not be for the want of good counsel." — Athenceum. 
 
 " It is by far the most useful and practical book that Harry 
 Hieover has written." — Express. 
 
 XLIX. 
 In 1 vol., price 4s. 
 
 BIPEDS AND QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 By HARRY HIEOVER. 
 " We recommend this little volume for the humanity towards 
 quadrupeds it advocates, and the proper treatment of them that 
 it inculcates." — Bell's Life. 
 
 L. 
 
 CHRISTMAS GIFT BOOK. 
 Price Is. 6d. 
 
 PRINCE LIFE. 
 
 By G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ., 
 Author of " The Gipsy," " Richelieu," &c. 
 " It is worth its weight in gold."— The Globe. 
 " Most valuahle to the rising generation ; an invaluable little 
 book." — Guardian.
 
 14 MR. newby's new publications. 
 
 LI. 
 In 2 vols, post 8vo., price 21s. 
 
 NAPLES, 
 
 POLITICAL, SOCIAL, AND RELIGIOUS. 
 By LORD B * * * * * 
 
 " The pictures are as lively and bright as the colours and climate 
 they reflect." — Spectator. 
 
 " It is a rapid, clear historical sketch." — Advertiser. 
 
 "The author has done good service to society." — Court Circular. 
 
 LII. 
 ' In 2 vols., price 21s., cloth. 
 
 THE LIFE OF PERCY BYSSHE 
 SHELLEY. 
 
 By CAPTAIN MEDWIN, 
 Author of " Conversations with Lord Byron." 
 
 "This book must be read by every one interested in literature." 
 — Morning Post. 
 
 " A complete life of Shelley was a desideratum in literature, 
 and there was no man so competent as Captain Medwin to supply 
 it." — Inquirer. 
 
 "The book is sure of exciting much discussion." — Literary 
 Gazette.^ 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Second Edition, now ready, in 3 vols., price 42s. 
 
 THE LITERARY LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON. 
 
 By R. MADDEN, Esq., F.R.C.S.-ENG. 
 
 Author of " Travels in the East," " Life of Savonarola," &c. 
 
 " We may, with perfect truth affirm, that during the last fifty 
 years there has been no book of such peculiar interest to the lite- 
 rary and political world. It has contributions from every person 
 of literary reputation — Byron, Sir E. Bulwer, who contributes an 
 oiiginal Poem) James, Disraeli, Marryatt, Savage Landor, Camp- 
 bell. L. E. L., the Smiths, Shelley, Jenkyn, Sir W. Gell, Jekyll. 
 &c. &c. ; as well as letters from the most eminent Statesmen and 
 Foreigners of distinction, the Duke of Wellington, Marquis YYel- 
 lesley, Marquis Douro, Lords Lyndhurst, Brougham, Durham, 
 Abinger, &c." — Morning Post.
 
 MB. newby's new publications. 15 
 
 LIV. 
 Price 2s. 6d. beautifully illustrated. 
 
 THE HAPPY COTTAGE, 
 
 A TALE FOE SUMMER'S SUNSHINE. 
 By the Author of "Kate Vernon," -'Agnes Waring." 
 
 LV. 
 In 1 vol., price 7s. 6d. 
 
 ON SEX IN THE WORLD TO COME. 
 
 By the Rev. G. B. HAUGHTON, A.M. 
 11 A peculiar subject ; but a subject of great interest, and in 
 this volume treated in a masterly style. The language is surpass- 
 ingly good, showing the author to be a learned and a thoughtful 
 man." — New Quarterly Review. 
 
 LVI. 
 In 1 vol., 8vo. 
 
 THE AGE OF PITT AND FOX. 
 
 By DANIEL OWEN MADDEN, 
 Author of " Chiefs of Poarty," &c. 
 The Times says " We may safely pronounce it to be the best 
 text-book of the age which it professes to describe." 
 
 LVI I. 
 In 3 vols, demy 8vo., price 21. 14s. 
 
 A CATHOLIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 By W. B. MAC CABE, Esq. 
 " A work of great literary value." — Times. 
 
 LVIII. 
 In 1 vol., price 14s. 
 
 LIVES OF THE PRIME MINISTERS 
 OF ENGLAND. 
 
 FEOM THE BESTOBATION TO THE PEESENT TIME. 
 By J. HOUSTON BROWN, L.L.B. 
 Of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-Law. 
 " The Biographer has collected the facts relating to the family 
 and career of his four subjects, Clarendon, Clifford, Danby and 
 Essex, and stated these facts with clearness ; — selected such per- 
 sonal traits as the memoirs and lampoons of the time have pre- 
 sented, and interspersed his biographies with pussing notices of 
 the times and reflections, which though sometimes harsh in cha- 
 racter or questionable in taste, have independence, and, at all 
 events, a limited truth." — Spectator.
 
 16 MR. newsy's new publications. 
 
 LIX. 
 In 2 vols, price 21s. 
 
 SHELLEY AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 ByC. S. MIDDLETON, Esq. 
 
 " Never was there a more perfect specimen of biography." — 
 Walter Savage Landor, Esq. 
 
 " Mr. Middleton has done good service. He has carefully sifted 
 the sources of information we have mentioned, has made some 
 slight addition, and arranged his materials in proper order and in 
 graceful language. It is the first time the mass of scattered infor- 
 mation has been collected, and the ground is therefore cleared for 
 the new generation of readers." — Atheneeum. 
 
 "The Life of the Poet which has just appeared, and which was 
 much required, is written with great beauty of expression and 
 clearness of purpose. Mr. Middleton's book is a masterly perform- 
 ance." — Somerset Gazette. 
 
 " Mr. Middleton has displayed great ability in following the 
 poet through all the mazes of his life and thoughts. "We recom- 
 mend the work as lively, animated, and interesting. It contains 
 many curious disclosures." — Sunday T'imes. 
 
 LX. 
 
 In 1 vol. price 10s. 6d. 
 
 THE HOME OF OUR PRINCESS; 
 
 or, MOUNTAINS AND CITIES. 
 
 By SIBELLA JONES. 
 
 " The style is pleasing and tripping, the incidents striking and 
 nnmerous, and the estimates of trans-Rhenan character free from 
 educational bias and national prejudices." — Daily Telegraph. 
 
 LXI. 
 In 1 vol. 8vo. with Map. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE BERMUDAS. 
 
 By G. F. WILLIAMS, Esq. 
 
 LXI. 
 In 2 vols, post 8vo. price 21s. 
 
 THE AUSTRIAN EMPIRE. 
 
 By WILLIAM PEAKE, Esq. 
 
 " It has great historic value, and likely to be valuable for re- 
 ferences." — Daily News. 
 
 " It presents by far the best view that has yet appeared of 
 Austria." — Naval and Military Gazette. 
 
 LONDON : T. C. NEWBY, 30, WELBECK STREET, 
 
 CAVENDISH SQUARE.
 
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