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. 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" 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. -Ti . ; ^ Q