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 A BACHELOE'S BLUXDER 
 
 BY 
 
 W. E. XOEKIS 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'MATRIMOXy' 'THIRLBY H-UX ' ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 RICHAED BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET 
 
 ^ublis^ers in ©rMnarg to ^er Utajeslg i^t ^xxtzv. 
 1886 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 PRINTED BY 
 
 SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 
 
 LONDON
 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 -^ TO 
 
 
 AETHUR MALCOLM HEATHCOTE 
 
 FROM AN OLD FKIEND 
 
 1 
 
 
 X 
 
 i
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. MISS LEFROY, THE HEIRESS .... 1 
 
 II. BAD NEWS -27 
 
 III. MORE BAD NEWS . . . . . .45 
 
 IV. A FRIEND IX NEED . . . . . . bo 
 
 V. THE DOCTOR INTERVENES . . . .87 
 
 VI. TRISTRAM, R.A I'H 
 
 VII. THE OPINIONS OF MRS. MILLS . . . .121 
 
 VIII. MR. HERBERT ON MARRIAGE . . . . 140 
 
 IX. AN ALTERNATIVE 157 
 
 X. AN UNKNOWN PATRON 182 
 
 XI. HOPE IS TOLD THE TRUTH .... 200 
 
 XII. LADY JANE IS MADE HAPPY . . . . 222 
 
 XIII. JACOB STILES 239 
 
 XIV. MRS. PIERPOINT 265 
 
 XV. HOPE DOES HER DUTY 2S1
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/bachelorsblunder01norr
 
 A BAOHELOPt'S BLUNDER. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 MISS LEFROY, THE HEIRESS. 
 
 *HoPE ? How pretty ! Is that your real name, 
 or are you only called so by your people P ' 
 
 ' I was called so by my godfathers and 
 godmothers in my Baptism. Have you any 
 objection ? ' 
 
 ' None. I think it is a charming name, 
 like everything else about you ; only, as one 
 baby is so very much like another, you know, 
 it seems odd that anybody should have been 
 clever enough to hit upon exactly the right 
 name to call you by. I presume that when 
 you were a baby you had a httle round 
 mouth, a little round nose, and little round 
 
 Vol. I. 15
 
 2 A BACHELOES BLUNDER 
 
 eyes, like the rest of the species. No one 
 could have foreseen that you would grow up 
 
 to— to ' 
 
 ' To the possession of my present perfect 
 set of features ? Possibly not ; but why do 
 you say that Hope is exactly the right name 
 for me ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know. Something about the 
 curve of the lips perhaps, or about your 
 eyes, which are always rather wide open and 
 look as if they saw something pleasant, or — 
 or — well, I am not a very good hand at 
 explaining myself, but I daresay you under- 
 stand what I mean.' 
 
 It is not unlikely that she did. At any 
 rate she must have understood that he meant 
 to express admiration, and with that degree 
 of comprehension on her part he would pro- 
 bably have been satisfied. This was the first 
 time in her life that she liad been addressed 
 with such soft flattery : it was also her 
 first introduction to a London ball-room. 
 The glitter of the great cr^^stal chandeliers, 
 the amazing profusion of flowers wliicli loaded
 
 :miss lefeoy, the heiress 3 
 
 the air with faint odours, the sparkle of in- 
 numerable diamonds, the steady, ceaseless 
 hum of a multitude of voices, the rhythmic 
 strains of the Hungarian band, to which her 
 little feet kept unconsciously beating time 
 upon the pohshed floor — all these things ex- 
 cited her unaccustomed brain, and filled her 
 with that intoxication of joy in existence 
 which belongs to youth alone. If it added 
 something to her happiness to be seated beside 
 an exceedingly handsome young guardsman 
 and to listen to the nonsense which it pleased 
 him to talk, she assuredly did not differ very 
 much in that particular from other persons of 
 greater age and experience. 
 
 But Captain Cunningham did not suppose 
 himself to be talking nonsense at all. ' The 
 Goddess of Hope,' he went on presently, 
 ' must have been the very image of you ; 
 that is, if there ever was such a being. I've 
 forgotten my gods and goddesses since I left 
 school.' 
 
 ' You must have a remarkably short 
 memory.' 
 
 b2
 
 4 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 ' All, you say that because jou think I'm 
 so young ; that is what everybody thinks. 
 But you're wrong ; I'm quite old in reality — 
 twenty-four the very next third of August as 
 ever is, little as you might imagine it. I 
 suppose,' he added, turning up his face 'to- 
 wards her with a sort of innocent gravity, 
 ' I do look awfully young ; don't I ?' 
 
 She scrutinised his small, refined features, 
 his dark blue eyes with their long lashes, his 
 close cut black hair and the smiling mouth, 
 above which there was but the faintest indi- 
 cation of a moustache, and answered : ' Well, 
 yes ; you do. But I don't think I should 
 mind that much if I were you. We shall 
 none of us either look young or be young for 
 more than a few years.' 
 
 'Let us make the most of our time 
 while it lasts, then. Sliall we take another 
 turn?' 
 
 She nodded ; he gave her back her fan 
 (upon which the monogram of ILL. had 
 afforded him an excuse for asking her what 
 H. stood for), and soon they were gliding
 
 MISS LEFROY, THE HEIRESS 5 
 
 swiftly round the room with the other 
 dancers. 
 
 After all, the best moments of life are 
 more connected with triviahties than we care 
 to admit, and happiness, which we are told 
 not to expect in this world, and which cer- 
 tainly is a very different thing from placid 
 contentment, comes and goes in flashes, sel- 
 dom leaving behind it any rational explanation 
 of its visits. It is doubtful whether, even in 
 communing with her own heart, Hope Lefroy 
 ever made such an admission as this : ' I was 
 happy once. It was on a summer evening in 
 a big London house ; I was waltzing with the 
 handsomest man and the best dancer in the 
 room ; the lights and the colours and the 
 voices went swimming round us Hke thincrs in 
 a dream ; I almost forgot my identity, and the 
 music seemed to be part of us — or else we 
 were a part of the music. Somebody said : 
 ''What a lovely girl! " and somebody else said : 
 " That is Miss Lefroy — the great heiress, you 
 know.'" Nevertheless she had to wait a 
 long time before another quarter of an hour
 
 A bachelor's blunder 
 
 sucli as that came to her. The above frag- 
 ments of conversation were the only words 
 which reached her ears, and these, fortunately, 
 were not acute enough to catch the remarks 
 made by a good-natured person seated near 
 the door to a lady with a hook nose and 
 double eyeglasses and somewhat anxious ex- 
 pression of countenance. 
 
 'My dear Lady Jane,' the good-natured 
 person was saying, ' do you know that this is 
 the fourth time running that your niece has 
 danced with Bertie Cunningham. Isn't that 
 just a little bit dangerous ? ' 
 
 The lady with the hook nose said : ' I trust 
 not.' 
 
 '"Eeally I think it is. Bertie has three 
 hundred a year from his fatlier, and debts, 
 and the face of an angel. He is always in 
 love with somebody, and what is worse is 
 that somebody is always in love with him. 
 One can't check these things too soon.' 
 
 ' One can't dash into the middle of a ball- 
 room and drag one's niece out of danger by 
 the hair of her head. I will speak to her
 
 MISS LEFEOr, THE HEIRESS 7 
 
 when I get an opportunity. The truth is 
 that she knows no more about — about every- 
 thing than a child in arms. Charles has kept 
 her down in the country half her life, and I 
 doubt whether she would ever have had a 
 season in London at all if I had not come to 
 the rescue.' 
 
 ' How good of you ! ' 
 
 'I suppose you mean how foohsh. Very 
 hkely it was, only it did seem such a pity 
 that she should remain buried in the depths 
 of the midlands and perhaps end by marryino- 
 the curate. Still, people ought to look after 
 their own daughters ; I am sure I have 
 enough to do to look after mine. Of course, 
 if anything interesting happens I shall get no 
 credit, and if there is a catastrophe I shall be 
 blamed. I wonder why younger sons are 
 always so good-looking, while theii' elder 
 brothers are invariably ugly, or go in for 
 eccentric fads, or have fits, or somethincr 
 horrid ! ' 
 
 ' Because there is a good deal of rough 
 justice in human afiairs. The elder brothers
 
 8 A BACIIELOES BLUNDER 
 
 don't need personal advantages ; the younger 
 ones are given handsome faces in order that 
 they may get on in the world and marry rich 
 Miss Lefroys.' 
 
 'You never would say such things if you 
 knew liow uncomfortable it makes me to 
 hear them. Please take me to the supper- 
 room, and let us think about something more 
 pleasant.' 
 
 A tall, loosely- built man, neither young 
 nor old, with a long moustache and no other 
 hair about his face, turned to a brisk elderly 
 gentleman who was standing beside him and 
 asked abruptly : ' Is that your niece, Lefroy ? ' 
 The elderly gentleman rephed : ' Yes, that is 
 my niece. A handsome girl, isn't she ? ' 
 
 ' Yery. To whom are you and Lady Jane 
 going to marry her ? ' 
 
 ' To nobody that I know of. We have 
 brought her up to London to give her a httle 
 amusement ; she hasn't had too much of that, 
 poor girl ! ' 
 
 ' You don't intend her to marry Cunning- 
 ham, do you ? '
 
 MISS LEFROY, THE HEIRESS 9 
 
 ' Cimniiio^liam ? What CuiiDiDo^liam ? 
 That boy in the Scots Guards, do you mean ? 
 Hardly ! All the same I should be glad if she 
 would marry somebody.' 
 
 ' Why ? ' 
 
 ' Because my brother Charles has heart- 
 disease. You needn't mention this, you know^ 
 but the doctors tell him he may go off sud- 
 denly at any moment ; and, of course, when 
 poor Charles dies ' 
 
 'Oh, I see ; you would find her con- 
 foundedly in the way then. You're good- 
 natured sort of people, but there is nothing 
 you hate like being made uncomfortable. 
 Don't mind my saying so, do you ? ' 
 
 ' Nobody ever minds what you say, 
 Herbert, and I confess I don't like beinc^ made 
 uncomfortable. For the matter of that, I 
 don't know who does. I tell you what : I 
 wish you 'd marry the girl yourself.' 
 
 'Xo use, Lefroy ; the mothers gave me up 
 long ago. Ask any dowager you hke. I've 
 had an asterisk before my name for the last 
 ten years. Xo, I can't help you in that way,
 
 10 A BACHELORS BLU^'DER 
 
 but I'll give you a bit of gratuitous advice : 
 don't let her see too much of Cunningham. 
 Not that there's any particular harm in him, 
 only she ought to do better, I should think.' 
 
 Meanwhile, the subject of so much free 
 discussion was happily unaware of having 
 made herself in any way conspicuous. When 
 the waltz was over she very properly re- 
 quested her partner to take her back to her 
 aunt, but as Lady Jane was not to be found — 
 being indeed at that moment busily engaged 
 with aspic and champagne elsewhere — she 
 readily assented to Captain Cunningham's 
 suggestion that they should ' go and sit down 
 somewhere.' 
 
 It may be that Captain Cunningham's 
 mental gifts were not quite upon a par with 
 his physical ones ; at any rate, his stock of 
 conversational topics seemed to lack variety. 
 ' Hope,' he murmured, as he sank down upon 
 a sofa beside his companion, ' I think it's the 
 prettiest name I ever heard.' 
 
 Somethinc^ in the manner of his intonation 
 certainly made it sound pretty, and the girl
 
 11 
 
 answered simply : ' I never thought of it as 
 being especially so before, but now that you 
 mention it, perhaps it is rather pretty. It 
 doesn't mean anything thougli. I was called 
 after my mother, who, I believe, was called 
 after an old Mr. Hope who left her people 
 some money. So, you see, if my parents 
 wished to express any sentiment at all in 
 giving me my name, it must have been 
 gratitude.' 
 
 It is doubtful, however, whether that 
 sentiment had had any place in her parents' 
 mind at the time of her birth. If they had 
 called her Disappointment it would more 
 nearly have expressed their feehngs. To own 
 a large entailed estate, to have remained a 
 considerable number of years childless and 
 then to be presented by Heaven with a 
 daughter, is not among the experiences which 
 evoke prompt thanksgiving ; nor was ]\ir. 
 Lefroy the kind of man to take comfort from 
 thinking that his dauorhter's advent miuht in 
 
 DO O 
 
 due season be followed by that of a son or 
 sons. ' I know wliat it will be,' he said
 
 12 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 resignedly, Avlien he was told the news ; ' 1 
 shall have twelve little girls now.' But out- 
 rageous Fortune did not deal with him quite 
 so hardly as that, for he never had another 
 child of either sex, and when he lost his wife 
 he was too advanced in years to think of 
 marrying again. 
 
 Thus Hope became a great heiress, Mr. 
 Lefroy being a rich man independently of his 
 acres. For generations past, as various col- 
 lateral branches of the family had withered 
 away, money had poured in upon the succes- 
 sive heads of the house, sometimes in driblets, 
 sometimes in considerable streams, as it has a 
 way of doing upon those who do not require 
 it ; and over this accumulation Hope's father 
 had, of course, undisputed control. During 
 his lifetime the hoard had increased greatly. 
 At first neither he nor liis wife had been able 
 quite to forgive their little daughter for not 
 being a boy. Without being in the least un- 
 kind to her they had not cared to see much of 
 her, and had willingly committed her to the 
 care of the best nurses and governesses that
 
 MISS LEFKOY, THE HEIRESS 13 
 
 money could procure. They had spent a 
 large portion of their time in London and in 
 foreign wanderings, while the child was left 
 
 O 7 
 
 in the pure country air of her home, which, 
 as they said, was so much better for her. The 
 sight of her reminded them of their disap- 
 pointment, and to Mrs. Lefroy in particular 
 conveyed something in the nature of a tacit 
 reproach. To her dying day the good lady 
 did not altogether get over this feehng, and, 
 conscientiously though she strove to conceal 
 it, never succeeded in so doing ; but when 
 Hope was about ten years old, her father's 
 point of view underwent a sudden and com- 
 plete change. Either because the child was 
 so pretty and so winning in her ways or 
 because his own nature was an affectionate 
 and his wife's a somewhat cold one, he began 
 to worship the little heiress to whom he could 
 bequeath neither house nor lands. It occurred 
 to him that, so far from his having a grievance 
 acrainst her, it was she who had the best rii^ht 
 to complain of her sex being what it was. He 
 at least would live and die in the old place ;
 
 14 A BACHELORS BLU.XDER 
 
 but slie must, some day or other, give up the 
 home that she loved to the heir of entail; 
 and what might have seemed no hardship at 
 all if she had had a brother, assumed a very 
 different aspect v^hen it was a case of retiring 
 in favour of an uncle or cousin. So Mr. Lefroy 
 set himself to save money, and accomplished 
 with little effort a task which to most people 
 is both difficult and painful. Since Hope 
 could never be Miss Lefroy of Helston Abbey, 
 she should at any rate be Miss Lefroy the 
 heiress — an heiress so great that she would be 
 able, if it should so please her, to raise a 
 second Helston elsewhere, as Helenus founded 
 a new Troy on the shores of Epirus. This 
 saving process did not bring about any cur- 
 tailment of daily luxuries, but it made it 
 necessary — or so Mr. Lefroy declared — that 
 he should live quietly at home and give up 
 his London house, and to that plan Mrs. 
 Lefroy, who during the last years of her life 
 was a confirmed invalid, offered no opposition. 
 When Hope was between fifteen and six- 
 teen her mother died ; and after that she and
 
 MISS LEFROY, THE HEIRESS 15 
 
 lier fatlier became closer companions than 
 ever. Their companionship, indeed, was some- 
 what too close ; for each found the other's 
 society all-suiBcient, and they mixed less witli 
 their friends and neighbours than was good 
 for either of them. During the hunting season 
 they were occasionally seen — a spare, melan- 
 choly-looking man, very well turned-out, and 
 a fair-haired girl whose sunny face developed 
 into greater beauty year by year — but nobody 
 got much beyond bare civilities with this 
 couple, and the vast house in which they 
 lived was rarely enlivened by visitors. From 
 time to time relations were asked down to 
 stay ; but the relations found it so intolerably 
 dull that they were generally telegraphed for 
 on the second or third day, and had to leave 
 precipitately. Sometimes, too, a stray artist 
 would be invited to partake of Mr. Lefroy's 
 hospitahty ; and the artist, as a rule, enjoyed 
 himself. He could not but be glad of the 
 opportunity of studying the Helston Abbey 
 picture-gallery, which was not open to the 
 public, and he was sure of being treated with
 
 16 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 the utmost consideration and respect by his 
 host, who was himself an amateur painter of 
 no mean abihty, and whose love for art of 
 every kind was second only to his love for his 
 daughter. When Mr. Lefroy took Hope up 
 to London for a few days — as he did every 
 now and then — it was almost always in order 
 to attend a sale at Christie's. The old man 
 was well known in the King Street rooms, 
 where, in former years, he had been a frequent 
 purchaser. He no longer bought much, having 
 another use for his money now ; but it pleased 
 him to examine the treasures exposed for sale, 
 and nobody knew better than he did whether 
 these fetched more or less than tlieir value. 
 There is every reason to believe that he would 
 have gone on taking his daughter to art sales, 
 and imagining that by so doing he was giving 
 her the greatest of possible treats, had he not 
 chanced, on his way back from one of these 
 entertainments, to encounter his sister-in-law 
 Lady Jane. 
 
 Lady Jane stared very hard, not at him, 
 but at his companion, and muttered under her
 
 MISS LEFROY, TOE HEIRESS 17 
 
 breath : ' Eeally, it is too bad ! ' What she 
 saw was a tall, well-grown girl, with a shghtly 
 aquiline nose, a quantity of golden hair very 
 unfashionably arranged, and a pair of large, 
 wide-open, grey eyes. Xobody ever beheld 
 whiter or more even teeth than this girl dis- 
 played presently when something made her 
 laugh, nor could there be anywhere, in London 
 or out of it, a more exquisite complexion. It 
 really was too bad ; and there was nothing for 
 an aunt of proper feehng to do but to promise 
 her niece a London season and disappoint her 
 not, though it should be to her own hindrance 
 (for she herself had two unmarried daughters, 
 whose beauty was of a less striking order). 
 
 The next day Lady Jane called on her 
 brother-in-law, and pointed out to him that 
 the time had come for Hope to be presented 
 at Court and to assume her place in society. 
 'If you won't take her about, we must,' she 
 said ; and Mr. Lefroy assented with a sigh — 
 the more willingly, perhaps, because he had 
 just returned with a rather graver face than 
 usual from consulting his doctor. 
 
 Vol. I. C
 
 18 A BACHELORS BLUXDER 
 
 'It must come some day, I suppose,' lie 
 remarked. ' It is a pity. Hope is perfect as 
 she is, and you will do your best to spoil lier 
 among you. Still, I suppose it would have 
 had to come some day. I wish I knew how it 
 would end ! ' 
 
 ' I daresay I can tell you,' his sister-in-law 
 replied, laughing a little ; ' it will end in the 
 natural way.' 
 
 What Lady Jane considered natural was 
 that the e^irl should ere lon^j become eno^aored 
 to some unexceptionable person, chosen for 
 her by her thoughtful relatives ; but perhaps 
 it was even more natural that at Hope's first 
 ball she should be sitting in a retired corner 
 with an attractive young guardsman, and 
 communicating to him the greater part of the 
 personal history set forth above. 
 
 Her auditor appeared to take a lively 
 interest in all that she told him. He was a 
 young man with many connections and more 
 friends ; from the day on which he was 
 gazetted to his battalion society of every sort 
 and kind had been open to him, and, as he
 
 MISS LEFROY, THE HEIEESS 19 
 
 himself would have said, he ' knew his way 
 about pretty well.' K he had not studied 
 feminine nature very exhaustively, he had at 
 any rate had sufficient opportunities of doing 
 so, and not long before this time he had 
 gravely confided to a brother officer, as the 
 result of his observation, that one woman was 
 uncommonly like another. However, he had 
 never met anyone quite like ]\Iiss Lefroy 
 before ; and it is perfectly possible that, even 
 if she had not happened to be the prettiest 
 girl in the room, he would have been capti- 
 vated by her manner, which had the kind of 
 self-possession that children have before they 
 grow old enough to be shy, besides an amusing 
 little touch of condescension every now and 
 then, due, no doubt, to the circumstance that 
 Miss Lefroy had hitherto been thrown more 
 amongst social inferiors than amongst equals. 
 
 'Are you fond of shooting?' she asked. 
 '•If you are, you might run down to Hel- 
 ston some time in the autumn and pay us a 
 visit.' 
 
 The young man passed his hand across his
 
 20 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 lips to smooth away a smile. ' You are very 
 kind,' he answered gravely ; ' but hadn't I> 
 perhaps, better wait until Mr. Lefroy asks 
 me?' 
 
 ' You would have to wait a long time, I 
 am afraid. It very seldom occurs to my 
 father to invite people to stay ; although 
 when they come he is generally the better for 
 it, I think. Probably, if there was anybody 
 else in the house, he would hardly notice 
 whether you were there or not. And I should 
 like you to see Heist on.' 
 
 'I should like to see it very much. It 
 must be rather an odd sort of place in some 
 ways.' 
 
 ' Odd ? What do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' Well, it seems to produce things that 
 don't generally grow in the country. Young 
 ladies, for instance, who dance as beautifully 
 as if they had been doing nothing else all 
 their lives, and who can snub a humble ac- 
 quaintance without any difficulty.' 
 
 ' Is that because I said my father wouldn't 
 notice you ? I should not have supposed that
 
 MISS LEFROY, THE HEIRESS 21 
 
 you would mind ; but perhaps you are not so 
 humble as you make yourself out. Unfortu- 
 nately, my father is rather absent-minded, and 
 there is only one way of attracting his atten- 
 tion that I know of : have you ever painted 
 a picture ? ' 
 
 ' Can't say that I ever have ; but I dare 
 say I might manage it if I tried.' 
 
 ' Oh, you think so ? Decidedly humihty 
 is not one of your failings. Xow I, who have 
 been patiently learning to draw and paint ever 
 since I could hold a brush or a pencil, never 
 ventured to submit a composition of my own 
 to my father until about a month ago. And 
 how do you suppose he received it ? ' 
 
 'With tears of joy I should think.' 
 
 ' No ; if he had shed tears they would not 
 have been tears of that kind, I am afraid. 
 He screwed up his eyes and stroked his chin, 
 and looked very much inchned to run away ; 
 and then he said : " My dear, I can see that 
 you have taken great pains over this." Farther 
 than that he couldn't go, much as he would 
 have liked to go farther. It only shows '
 
 22 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 ' That Mr. Lefroy ougiit to be deprived of 
 his daughter until he learns to appreciate her/ 
 broke in a voice from the background, at the 
 sound of which the girl turned round with a 
 little cry of pleasure. 
 
 ' You at a ball ! ' she exclaimed. ' After 
 this nothing will ever surprise me again.' 
 
 The intruder advanced, holding out a long, 
 lean, gloveless hand. His clothes hung loosely 
 upon a massive frame ; his shirt-front was 
 crumpled ; the white tie, knotted round his 
 throat, looked more like a huge pocket-hand- 
 kerchief than anything else ; and these trifles, 
 quite as much as a certain rugged grandeur 
 about his square head with its grizzled beard 
 and its mane flung back from the brow, 
 made him a conspicuous figure among that 
 crowd of men who, old and young alike, 
 were turned out after an identical neat pat- 
 tern. 
 
 ' Why may I not have a treat every now 
 and then, like other people ? ' he asked, smiling. 
 ' When we parted. Miss Hope, I should have 
 said that nothing was more unlikely than that
 
 MISS LEFROY, THE HEIEESS 23 
 
 our next meeting sliould take place in a ball- 
 room ; yet here we both are, you see. The 
 difference between us is that you take to it 
 as a duckling takes to water, whereas I am 
 altogether out of my element. The difference 
 between age and youtli, in short.' 
 
 Hope laughed : 'Are you not enjoying 
 yourself? ' she asked. 
 
 ' Do I look as if I were enjoying myseK? 
 Still, I have enjoyed watching you. It's a 
 new character, and I can't deny that it's a 
 becoming one, thougli I think I like the 
 other best. Honestly now, which do you 
 prefer, dancing or painting ? ' 
 
 ' Will you wither me with scorn if I say 
 dancino' ? ' 
 
 ' Not I ! I only wish I were of an age to 
 agree with you. Dance away. Miss Hope, 
 there's a time for all things. Only thank 
 Heaven and your father that you have a 
 pursuit to fall back upon. Sooner or later, 
 the day comes when we all need that. Work 
 and tobacco liave been my two best friends in 
 life. I shouldn't like to see you with a pipe
 
 24 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 in your mouth ; but I shall always be glad to 
 see you standing before an easel.' 
 
 ' You think I have the makings of an artist 
 in me, then ? ' asked the girl, with some 
 eagerness. 
 
 'That is not the question,' returned the 
 other, and strode away unceremoniously. 
 
 ' Who is that very — abrupt old party ? ' 
 inquired the guardsman. 
 
 ' Don't you know ? ' exclaimed Hope. 
 ' Why, that is Mr. Tristram.' 
 
 ' The thought of my ignorance makes me 
 blush all over ; but I am obliged to confess 
 that I am not much the wiser.' 
 
 ' Oh, you must be ! Surely you must have 
 heard of Tristram, tlie great artist ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, that Tristram ! Yes ; I've heard of 
 him, of course ; seen his pictures too. They're 
 a little beyond me, I think, though I've no 
 doubt they are magnificent, as everybody says 
 so. I never met him before ; he doesn't look 
 exactly the kind of person whom one w^ould 
 be likely to meet, does he ? ' 
 
 • That w^ould depend upon what company
 
 MISS LEFROY, THE HEIRESS 25 
 
 you keep, I suppose. He is the kind of person 
 who knows everyone that is worth knowing.' 
 
 ' So much for an unlucky beggar whom 
 he doesn't know! Lady Jane, I wish you 
 would come and take my part ; I'm catching 
 it like anytliing because I'm not on terms of 
 intimacy with all the Eoyal Academicians.' 
 
 But Lady Jane, who had just borne down 
 upon the couple, did not seem at all disposed 
 to take the part of this impecunious and 
 rather forward young man. She ignored his 
 appeal, and said to her niece, with some httle 
 severity of tone : ' My dear Hope, I couldn't 
 think what had become of you ! We are going 
 home now.' 
 
 Captain Cunningham, however, was not 
 the man to let himself be so summarily dis- 
 posed of. He accompanied the ladies down- 
 stairs, helped ]\Iiss Lefroy into the carriage, 
 stood for a few minutes talkino; to her after 
 she was seated, and took care to find out what 
 her engagements for the next day were before 
 he bade lier CTood-niHit. 
 
 Half an hour later, when Hope was in her
 
 26 A BACHELOR S BLUXDER 
 
 bedroom, she noticed that a strip of white 
 ribbon whicli she had attached to the handle 
 of her fan was missing ; and among other 
 memory-pictnres which passed before her 
 drowsy eyes ere they closed, was a vision of a 
 young man in evening dress standing in the 
 open doorway of a brilliantly hghted liouse, 
 and thrusting something — could it be a scrap 
 of white ribbon ? — into the pocket of his coat. 
 The vision, it may be assumed, was not wholly 
 displeasing to her ; for she fell asleep with a 
 smile upon her lips. Honi soit qui mal y 
 'pense ! She saw no reason to grudge the 
 poor youth such a trifle if he valued it, being 
 as yet ignorant of the important part that 
 ribbons play in the affairs of this world : of 
 how great men will bribe and scheme to get a 
 blue one, and victorious generals swell with 
 satisfaction when they are permitted to hang 
 a red one round their necks, and liow young 
 guardsmen with a few hundreds a year cannot 
 possibly be entitled to ribbons of any colour — 
 or even of no colour, such as white ones.
 
 27 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BAD NEWS. 
 
 Mr. Montague Lefeoy, M.P., was a man against 
 whom no one liad ever been found cross- 
 grained enough to say a word. It is not neces- 
 sary to be great, wise, witty, or munificent in 
 order to gain the love of your fellow-creatures, 
 whose demands, after all, are moderate enough, 
 and who ask Httle more of you than that you 
 shall have a pleasant face, decent manners, 
 and wine which may be swallowed without 
 danger to the health of the swaUower. All 
 these titles to esteem Mr. Montague Lefroy 
 possessed, besides a very nice house in Eaton 
 Square, where guests were ever welcome, and 
 a still nicer house in the midland counties, 
 with excellent shooting attached, and a suffi- 
 ciency of hunting within easy distance to 
 satisfy most people.
 
 28 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 It is not every younger son who can boast 
 of sucli advantages ; but a poor Lefroy would 
 have been a contradiction in terms. This 
 one had inherited a good round fortune, and 
 many years back his elder brother had handed 
 over to him for his sole use and behoof the 
 house and estate of Southcote, which, though 
 humble by comparison with the grandeurs of 
 Helston Abbey, was yet a large enough place 
 to content any unambitious country gentle- 
 man. Mr. Montague Lefroy was not ambitious, 
 and was perfectly contented. He had always 
 been able to gratify his tastes and at the same 
 time to live within his income. In early life 
 he had gone in for racing in a modest way, 
 but had abandoned this form of amusement as 
 his family grew up. He had a yacht ; but, 
 for reasons of which he made no secret, he 
 seldom took her out of the Solent. From the 
 age of four-and-twenty he had sat uninterrupt- 
 edly for the southern division of his county, 
 and took a good-humoured, amateurish sort 
 of interest in politics. It is, perhaps, hardly 
 necessar}^ to say that he was a Conservative ;
 
 BAD XEWS 29 
 
 yet he could make allowance for the notions 
 of other men. Eaclicahsm rather amused 
 than alarmed him. He had, as he said, ' gone 
 into the whole matter ' at the commencement 
 of his career and had formed opinions which 
 he had never since seen reason to change. 
 Doubtless the world was far from perfect, and 
 there were social jDroblems and anomalies 
 which were apt at first to unsettle the inind 
 of the earnest inquirer ; but, when once you' 
 had reahsed that these things existed by the 
 will of Heaven, it was all plain saihng. If 
 there was anything so clear as to need no 
 demonstration, it was that in all communities 
 there must be rich and poor : it had been so 
 from the beginning ; to all appearance it would 
 be so up to the end. Therefore let every man 
 strive to do his duty in that state of hfe unto 
 which it had pleased God to call him, and 
 cease to repine because he was not somebody 
 else. 
 
 The voice of this optimistic legislator was 
 not often heard at St. Stephen's ; but when 
 he did speak it was in an easy, colloquial
 
 so A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 manner wliicli invariably charmed and tickled 
 his audience. For a quarter of a century or 
 more he had watched with benign equanimity 
 the forward march of Democracy, voting 
 against it of course, but not conceiving that 
 the Constitution was in any immediate peril : 
 the passing of Mr. Gladstone's Irish Land Act 
 Avas perhaps the only thing that had ever 
 given him a serious shock. Against it he had 
 felt bound to deliver one of the few speeches 
 with which he is credited in the pages of 
 Hansard. Let us make no mistake, he said ; 
 this was nothing less than a revolutionary 
 measure. He candidly confessed that he did 
 not know much about L'eland himself; had 
 only been there once ; was glad to say that 
 he owned no land there, and was willing to 
 accept provisionally the statements of honour- 
 able members Avho claimed to be better in- 
 formed. What he did know was that the 
 rights of property must be considered as the 
 foundation-stone of the social edifice ; and 
 the Housfe might take his word for it that, 
 when once they began chipping and hammer-
 
 BAD ^'EWS 31 
 
 ing at that, they would have the whole blessed 
 building down about their ears sooner than 
 they expected. 
 
 There was a 2food deal of laugrhter at this, 
 and somebody wished to know whether the 
 expression ' blessed building ' was Parha- 
 mentary. The Speaker ruled that it was ; 
 and Mr. Lefroy, having said his say and done 
 his duty to the country, crossed his legs and 
 went to sleep. A subservient majority, as we 
 know, passed the Act, and the consequences 
 must be upon their own heads. They cannot 
 at any future date plead that Mr. Montague 
 Lefroy did not warn them of what they were 
 about. 
 
 Hope was fond of her uncle, Avho also was 
 fond of her — as indeed he was of most people. 
 When she came downstairs on the morninix 
 after the ball she found him alone at the 
 breakfast-table, and he looked up from his 
 newspaper to say : 
 
 ' See what it is to have country habits ! 
 I do not suppose your aunt and the girls 
 will put in an appearance for another hour.
 
 32 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 Well, I liope you enjoyed yourself last 
 night ? ' 
 
 ' Immensely,' answered Hope, with fervour. 
 
 ' As much as all that ? Don't overdo it, 
 you know. I mean, enjoy yourself as much 
 as you please ; only, if I were you, I would 
 try to enjoy myself with a rather larger 
 number of people. Variety is salutary.' 
 
 'When one is dancing, one can only talk 
 to one's partner.' 
 
 ' Yes ; but one need not talk to the same 
 partner throughout the evening. Especially 
 if his name happens to be Cunningham.' 
 
 ' Is there anything against Captain Cun- 
 ningham, Uncle Montague ? ' 
 
 ' Well, I believe he is rather a flirtatious 
 young gentleman.' 
 
 ' He didn't flirt with me,' said Hope 
 calmly. 
 
 ' Didnt he ? I wonder what you define 
 as flirtation at Ilelston ! Besides, he liasn't a 
 sixpence.' 
 
 ' Poor fellow ! ' 
 
 ' Oh, poor fellow as much as you like ;
 
 BAD XEWS 33 
 
 but you had better not become too friendly 
 with him. In point of fact,' added Mr. Lefroy, 
 confidentially, ' I expect you'll get into a row 
 with your aunt if you do.' 
 
 Hope did not care to pursue the subject. 
 ' Is there anything in the Times this morning ? ' 
 she asked. 
 
 ' Xot much. Anotlier big bank gone 
 smash, I see ; the Bank of Central England. 
 The paper says lots of people are liit by it — 
 people whom one knows, I mean. How any 
 man can be such a lunatic as to hold shares 
 in an unlimited concern passes my compre- 
 hension. I recollect Charles speaking to me 
 about it ; I hope to goodness he isn't a share- 
 holder.' 
 
 ' Oh, dear, no ! ' answered Hope. ' Fancy 
 Papa running any risks ! He wouldn't sleep 
 quietly if he was getting more than four per 
 cent, for any investment.' 
 
 ' I suppose not. Well, I must be off. Ee- 
 member my little hint, there's a good girl. 
 After all, one man does to dance witli pretty 
 
 Vol. I. D
 
 CA A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 nearly as well as another, and it isn't wortli 
 wliile to vex your aunt.' 
 
 This Mr. Lefroy said both because he had 
 long ago become personally convinced that it 
 was never worth while to vex Lady Jane, and 
 because he had discovered that his niece was 
 fond of taking her own way. It will be per- 
 ceived that he was not quite the most skilful 
 diplomatist in the world. Hope made no re- 
 loinder ; but when he had left the room she 
 said to herself that, whatever her future con- 
 duct with regard to Captain Cunningham 
 might be, it certainly would not be influenced 
 by fear of her aunt's displeasure. 
 
 Her cousins, Alice and Gertrude, joined 
 her presently. They were pleasant, good- 
 humoured girls, having inherited the paternal 
 disposition ; they had neat figures, and were 
 rather pretty than otherwise, though without 
 much to boast of in tlie way of feature. 
 Although one of them was a year, and the 
 other two years, older than Hope, they had 
 always entertained a high respect for her — 
 not only because she was an heiress, and to
 
 BAD XEWS 35 
 
 all intents and purposes lier own mistress, 
 but because, as they frankly admitted, slie 
 did everything better than they did : talked 
 better, played better, and danced better, be- 
 sides possessing an artistic talent which they 
 looked upon as prodigious. In all matters 
 relating to dress they had a bhnd faith in her 
 taste, of which they availed themselves when- 
 ever they could. They proposed to avail 
 themselves of it now. 
 
 ' Hope,' said Gertrude, ' wouldn't you hke 
 to come with me and help me to choose a 
 hat ? As sure as I attempt to select anything 
 for myself that I think particularly becoming, 
 so surely is the result enough to make angels 
 weep. I can't conceive why things should 
 look so very different in the shop from what 
 they do when they are sent home.' 
 
 ' Oh, and Hope,' put in Ahce, ' would you 
 very much mind coming on to the dress- 
 maker's afterwards ? She would never dare 
 to snub you as she does me, and I know 
 exactly what I want, if I could only get her 
 to hsten. We can have the carriage, because 
 
 d2
 
 A BACIIELOES BLUJN'DER 
 
 Mamma cliangGcl her mind after she had 
 ordered it, and said she wouldn't 2^0 out this 
 
 morning.' 
 
 A woman who dishkes shopping may be 
 an admirable person ; but in the eyes of the 
 impartial observer there is apt to be a slight 
 prima facie case against her, as there is 
 against a man who dislikes tobacco. Hope 
 answered, quite truthfully, that she would be 
 delighted to accompany her cousins. Proba- 
 bly, also, she was not unwilling to avoid the 
 chance of a private interview with her aunt, 
 for which, on account of some reason or other 
 that she did not care to examine too closel}^ 
 she felt disinclined at that especial moment. 
 One cannot give reasons for all one's feehngs ; 
 nor, as a general thing, is it in the least desir- 
 able that one should. Hope, as she was 
 driven in an open carriage from shop to shop, 
 through the sunny smoky mist which gives 
 the atmosphere of London a peculiar golden 
 tinge in fair weather, was conscious of being 
 in high spirits — in higher spirits, it might be, 
 than there was anything to warrant— but, hke
 
 BAD XEWS 37 
 
 a true philosopher, she accepted the pleasant 
 fact, and did not attempt to pry into its 
 cause. 
 
 What was certain was that the appear- 
 ance of the entire city had marvellously 
 changed for the better. She could hardly 
 beheve that these were the dull ugly streets 
 alom^ which her father had been wont to 
 hurry lier during their flying visits to the 
 Metropohs, and where the last thing that one 
 would ever liave expected would have been to 
 recognise an acquaintance among the crowd 
 of uninteresting people that thronged them. 
 They wore a cheerful animated aspect now, 
 and were quite full of friendly faces. Several 
 young gentlemen with high shirt-collars and 
 bouquets in their buttonholes raised their hats 
 to the three gii'ls as the carriage passed ; 
 ladies in other carriages nodded and smiled ; 
 everything and everybody seemed to be pro- 
 claiming that it was the season, that all the 
 world was in town, that Miss Lefroy had been 
 to a ball last night, and that she was going to 
 another to-nicrht. Xear Buckino^ham Palace
 
 38 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 tliey met a tletacliment of the Guards, with 
 fifes and drums and an officer, the pomt of 
 whose nose could be discerned beneath his 
 bearskin. One of the girls exclaimed : ' Surely 
 that is Captain Cunningham ! ' And though 
 it was not Captain Cunningham — for the nose 
 turned up ridiculously, and was quite unlike 
 his — still it might have been ; and there was 
 something very exhilarating in the discovery 
 that, after all, one may sometimes chance 
 upon an acquaintance in London vfithout 
 previous appointment. Hope had always 
 hitherto supposed that it was far too huge a 
 place for that. 
 
 It was past two o'clock before tliey were 
 back in Eaton Square, and as they got out of 
 the carriage Alice remarked that she believed 
 some people were coming to luncheon : it 
 appeared that people dropped in to luncheon 
 almost every day in that house. Hope found 
 them in the drawing-room when she w^ent 
 downstairs after changing her dress. 
 
 To the last day of her life she will remem- 
 ber those people, and their names, and the
 
 BAD XEWS 39 
 
 clothes that they wore, and how they looked : 
 the long cool room darkened by sun-bhnds ; 
 the blaze of flowers in the windows ; Lady 
 Jane stifling a yawn ; the httle fat man, 
 bubbling over with laughter, who was tell- 
 ing a story about somebody who had been 
 chucked over his horse's head in Eotten Eow ; 
 and then the door opening suddenly and 
 her Uncle Montague coming in, with a pale, 
 grave face. Instantly she felt that some 
 calamity had befallen her. Wlien her uncle 
 stepped hastily to her side and whispered : 
 ' My dear, Avill you come into the next room 
 with me for a minute ? ' it was as if all this 
 had occurred at some previous time ; the 
 httle dark hbrary into which he led her had a 
 familiar look, though she had never entered 
 the room before ; she seemed to know exactly 
 what his next words would be. 
 
 ' Hope, my dear, can you be ready to go 
 home with me in half an hour ? Your father 
 has been taken ill.' 
 
 ' I am ready now,' she answered, quite 
 quietly.
 
 40 A BACHELORS BLU^s'DER 
 
 Lady Jane had followed tliem ; tlie two 
 old people were looking at her with kmdly, 
 distressed faces. They were urging her to 
 do somethino^ : what was it ? To eat ? She 
 smiled a little, and answered that she was 
 not hungry ; she would rather start at 
 once. 
 
 ' No, no ; plenty of time,' her uncle said. 
 ' If we start in half an hour we shall catch 
 the 3.20, and your maid can follow with your 
 things by a later train. Eun downstairs now 
 and get some luncheon ; or tell tliem to bring 
 it up to you if you would rather have it in 
 your own room. I can't tell you anything ; I 
 have no particulars — only a telegram,' he 
 added hurriedly. 
 
 Hope understood that he was anxious to 
 get rid of her ; so she went away without a 
 word. 
 
 As soon as the door had closed Lady Jane 
 asked : ' What is it, Montague ? Anything 
 very serious ? ' 
 
 Her husband handed her a telesrram. 
 ' From the butler,' he said.
 
 BAD >'£WS 41 
 
 ' Good heavens ! how dreadfully sudden ! ' 
 exclaimed Lady Jane, dropping her eyeglasses 
 and the telegram, which last consisted of only 
 the following five words : ' ^h\ Lefroy died 
 this mornin^r.' 
 
 The heir of Helston Abbey and its de- 
 pendencies blew his nose. To do him justice, 
 he was not thinking about his inheritance at 
 that moment, and had never at any time been 
 eager to enter upon it. ' Poor Charles I 
 poor old fellow ! ' he said. ' The last time I 
 saw liim he told me his heart was all wrong ; 
 but I never expected this. Somehow, one 
 never does expect— confound it all ! Jane, I 
 can't tell that poor girl. Wouldn't — couldn't 
 yon ? ' he added, appealingly. 
 
 Lady Jane shrank back. ' Surely it would 
 be better to get her home first. I can go 
 down to-morrow, if you wish.' 
 
 ' Only, of course, she will have to be told 
 to-night.' 
 
 The truth was that neither of these worthy 
 people had any taste for dischai'ging painful 
 duties. Life had been made very easy for
 
 42 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 them, and on the rare occasions wJien any- 
 thing unpleasant had to be done, each gene- 
 rally tried to get behind the other. This 
 system of tactics, if persisted in, is tolerably 
 sure to bring about a collision between the 
 manoeuvrers, and thus it was that Mr. Monta- 
 gue Lefroy, who abhorred collisions, com- 
 monly found himself in the post of honour. 
 He accepted it now without much protesta- 
 tion : indeed, he could not but admit that 
 there was reason in what Lady Jane urged, 
 and that it would be wiser to get the journey 
 over before allowing his niece to guess the 
 full extent of her misfortune. The only 
 question Avas whether the journey could pos- 
 sibly be got over without an explanation of 
 some kind. 
 
 Happily for him, it was so — or nearly so. 
 On taking his seat in the railway carriage, he 
 hid himself behind a newspaper, round the 
 corner of which he peered cautiously from 
 time to time at Hope, who, seated opposite 
 to him with her chin upon her hand, was 
 gazing abstractedly out of the window. Her
 
 apatliy surprised him more than it need have 
 done. 
 
 In truth, the girl had Httle confidence in 
 her uncle. Slie knew that whatever the news 
 might be lie would make the best of it ; 
 perhaps also, at the bottom of her heart, 
 there was an unacknowledged fear which 
 kept her silent. Nevertheless, when the dis- 
 tance was about half accomplished, she made 
 an effort and said : 
 
 ' May I see the telegram, Uncle Mon- 
 tague ? ' 
 
 ' The teleirram ? Dear me ! I'm afraid I 
 left it behind I ' answered Mr. Lefroy, glad to 
 be able to say so truthfully. 
 
 ' What were the words? ' 
 
 ' I — I don't exactly recollect,' replied her 
 uncle, not quite so truthfully this time. 
 
 Hope sighed and made no further in- 
 quiries ; her one wish was to reach home. 
 But when at length they did reach Helston 
 Abbey, when they had driven across the 
 park, in sight of the great house to which 
 she dared not lift her eves, and when the old
 
 44 A bachelor's blunder 
 
 butler came down the steps to meet them, 
 
 witJi liis face twitching and quivering then 
 
 she knew that home was home no longer, and 
 tliat that wish of liers could never be ful- 
 filled.
 
 45 
 
 CHAPTEE in. 
 
 MORE BAD XEWS. 
 
 The word ' never ' is scarcel}' understood by 
 any of us, so completely are we the slaves of 
 time ; and perhaps it is even more incompre- 
 hensible to the young than to their elders. 
 The blow which had fallen so suddenly upon 
 Hope Lefroy was so far easier to bear that 
 it stunned her as it fell, and, for twenty-four 
 hours at least, rendered her incapable of really 
 feehng anything. Xevertheless, she had all her 
 wits about her. She knew quite well that her. 
 father was dead ; she had seen his body lying, 
 stiff and silent, in what had once been his 
 bedroom, and had kissed the cold forehead. 
 She had heard the sobbing servants relate 
 how it had all happened ; how the newspaper
 
 4G A BACHELORS BLUNDIvli 
 
 liad been taken up to the study as usual, 
 directly it arrived ; how, about five minutes 
 afterwards, Mr. Goodwin (the butler) had 
 fancied he heard a fall, and, hurrying up- 
 stairs, had found his master lying, face down- 
 wards, on the ground ; how a groom had 
 been despatched immediately for the doctor, 
 who, on his arrival, had pronounced death to 
 have been instantaneous — ' his very words, 
 Miss Hope.' All this she had listened to 
 without a tear ; the only thought that made 
 her shudder for a moment was that while 
 her father had been lying dead she had been 
 laughing and chattering with her cousins in 
 the London streets, and saying to herself what 
 a pleasant thing life was. 
 
 Her uncle was amazed at her cahnness. 
 He patted her on the shoulder and called her 
 a brave girl, not knowing very well what to 
 say by way of comfort to one who seemed so 
 little in need of being comforted. When he 
 remarked : ' We will get your aunt and the 
 girls down ; you mustn't be left all by yourself, 
 you know,' she answered quickly : 'Oh, please
 
 MORE CAD XEWS 47 
 
 don't ! it would be such a pity to interfere with 
 all their amusement,' and then gave a little 
 nervous laugh. Of course there could be 
 no more amusement for them that season. 
 
 ' I don't know what to make of her,' the 
 worth}' man said to his wife when she arrived ; 
 ' she's as cold as a block of ice. That will 
 never do ; she'll be getting a brain-fever or 
 something, if we don't mind. You must 
 manage to make her cry somehow.' 
 
 But time and nature accomphshed what 
 might, perhaps, have proved beyond Lady 
 Jane's powers. The girl's numbed senses 
 woke with throbbings of pain which increased 
 every hour ; she began to realise her desola- 
 tion, and if tears were what was wanted to 
 preserve her from an illness she was soon safe. 
 Her aunt and cousins were as kind and sym- 
 pathetic as it was possible for them to be ; 
 but it was not possible for them to sympathise 
 in any true sense. They had never really 
 known the dead man, nor could they know 
 the extent of her loss. All the incidents of 
 their long companionship came back to her ;
 
 48 A BACIIELOUS BLUXDEPv 
 
 she remembered, as everyone does at such 
 times, a luindred trifling instances of his 
 thought for lier ; he had not been specially 
 demonstrative, it was not his nature to be so ; 
 but every now and then he had spoken a 
 tender word or two which had been all the 
 more valued for their rarity. She had never 
 had a plan, or a pleasure, or an anxiety, with 
 which he had not been connected, and now he 
 was gone and the world was empty. All day 
 long a song of Shelley's, which he had been 
 fond of and had often made her sing to him, 
 kept ringing in her head : ' Death is here, 
 death is there ' — everyone knows the lines : — 
 
 All things that we love and cheris^li, 
 Like ourselves, must flide and perisli. 
 Such is our rude mortal lot, 
 Love itself would, did they not. 
 
 Perhaps the significance of the last words 
 escaped her ; at any rate, she might be per- 
 mitted to doubt their truth. As she sat 
 alone, with her hands before her, she said to 
 herself ac^ain and aii^ain that she could never 
 be happy any more; she was too young to
 
 MOKE BAD XEWS 49 
 
 know that sorrow is as much doomed to fade 
 as all other things. 
 
 Like is cured by like : there is no more 
 certain remedy for trouble than a second dose 
 of the same upon the top of the first. The 
 treatment may not be an agreeable one ; but 
 it is generally found bracing by those who 
 have any constitution in them to be braced or 
 any courage to be roused. Of courage Hope 
 Lefroy had always had plenty, and she was 
 soon to discover that she would have need of 
 all that she possessed. One day, about a week 
 after the funeral, her maid came in to say : 
 ' If you please, m'm, could ^Irs. Mills see you 
 before she leaves? Slie's going away tliis 
 afternoon.' 
 
 Hope was sitting in the spacious, sunny 
 room wdiich she had been wont to use as a 
 studio. Her painting materials lay where 
 she had left them before her departure for 
 London ; the unfinished picture upon which 
 she had been engaged stood upon its easel, 
 covered with a cloth ; she had dracfcred an 
 arm-chair into the bay-window, wliere of late 
 
 Vol. I. E
 
 50 A BACHELOR S BLUXDER 
 
 she had sat, hour after hour, gazmg idly at 
 the flowers in the garden beneath, which went 
 on blooming for their new master as they had 
 for the old, and had no consolation to offer 
 her. Only once since her return had she 
 gone downstairs, and that had been to follow 
 her father's body to the grave. Eelations, 
 connections, and friends had assembled in 
 large numbers to pay the last tribute of 
 respect to the late owner of Ilelston Abbey ; 
 some had spent a night in the house, and a 
 few had penetrated into Hope's room to take 
 her by the hand and utter the halting com- 
 monplaces which must be uttered at such 
 times. Every day her aunt or one of her 
 cousins came and sat with her for an hour or 
 so, and she managed to talk cheerfully to 
 them about this, that, and the other, but she 
 had not yet felt able to take her place in the 
 dining-room, nor had anyone pressed her to 
 do so. 
 
 ' Mills going away ! ' she said, with a be- 
 wildered look. ' Why is slie going away ? ' 
 
 'Well, m'm,' answered the maid, looking
 
 MOEE BXD XETTS 51 
 
 down, ' she says she ought to be with her 
 husband now.' 
 
 Hope sighed. Of course there must be 
 changes, and of course old faces must vanish. 
 Mills was the first to go ; others must follow, 
 she herself must go soon, she supposed. Cer- 
 tainly it was time that she began to think of 
 these things. -Ask !Mills to come in,' she 
 said. 
 
 Shortly after Hope's birth ^lills had been en- 
 gaged as nurse, and she had never left Helston 
 since. After her services were no longer re- 
 quired she had been retained at tlie child's 
 earnest entreaty — in what capacity it would 
 be difficult to say. She was supposed to be 
 generally useful, and perhaps she was so ; in 
 any case a servant more or less could make 
 little difference in so large an estabhshment. 
 
 Somewhat late in life Mills had taken it 
 into her head to marry the second coachman, 
 a man considerably her junior ; but her matri- 
 monial fetters had not weighed heavily upon 
 her. When her husband, by way of bettering 
 himself, had taken service with a London
 
 52 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 doctor in a large practice, slie liad never dreamt 
 of accompanying him to his new home. Time 
 enough for that, she said, when Miss Hope 
 married. So long as Miss Hope was Miss 
 Hope she meant to remain with her. But 
 now, it seemed, she had changed her mind. She 
 came in presently — a tall, gaunt woman, past 
 middle age, with a face of wavering outline, 
 like a potato, and features which suggested 
 that the second coachman had been moved to 
 espouse their owner by some other incentive 
 than love. Her nose turned up, the corners of 
 her mouth turned down, and, to complete the 
 list of her charms, she had a pair of goggle 
 eyes, which just now were swollen with recent 
 weeping. Yet her face, like many otlier plain 
 faces, was not disagreeable to look at, its ex- 
 pression being one of quiet, honest kindli- 
 ness. Her late master had been wont to say 
 of her that she was as ugly as a bulldog and 
 as faithful. 
 
 ' Sit down, Mills,' said Hope. ' So you are 
 going to leave me, I hear.' 
 
 ' Ah, Miss Hope,' answered the woman,
 
 MOKE BAD XEWS 53 
 
 lowering her angular person stiffly to the edge 
 of a cliair and sighing, ' it isn't for my own 
 pleasure that I leave you, Lord knows ! But 
 I don't feel it's right for me to be eating Mr. 
 Montacfue's bread ; and George writes me that 
 he's took the house and got the furnitur' in ; 
 on'y he can't do nothink about lodgers till I 
 come, he says. So I thought to myself, 
 " Sooner or later it has got to be done, and 
 the sooner tlie better, maybe," I thought.' 
 And she heaved another prodigious sigh. 
 
 ' Do you mean that you are going to keep 
 lodcrincfs in London, and be worried from 
 morning to night by horrid, dirty servants, 
 and by people who will accuse you of steahng 
 the sugar, and will smoke in the drawing- 
 room, and make themselves obnoxious in all 
 sorts of ways ? You won't hke it, Mills.' 
 
 ' I daresay not, Miss Hope.' 
 
 ' Then why do you do it ? Why don't 
 you stay with me ? ' 
 
 ' Ah, my dear, I can't do that. I used 
 sometimes to think I'd no business stopping 
 on here, taking my w^ages and not earning my
 
 54 A BACHELORS BLUXDER 
 
 keep, even wlien — when — things was different. 
 
 But now ' And Mills sighed for the third 
 
 time. 
 
 ' Don't sigh like that, you silly old Mills ; 
 you make quite a draught in the room. Stay- 
 ing with me doesn't mean staying at Helston. 
 We must both look out for a new home 
 soon ; but I should like to keep you with me. 
 And I shall want a coachman, I suppose. 
 Couldn't we entice George away from the 
 doctor?' 
 
 Mills gasped, made a hideous grimace, 
 and then, to Hope's consternation, burst into 
 tears. ' Oh dear, oh dear ! ' she sobbed, 
 ' don't talk like that, child ; you'll break my 
 heart ! To think that your uncle should turn 
 you out of your own house ! — for it is your 
 house, as I'll maintain in the face of all the 
 judges and juries in the land. Laws indeed I 
 Bother their laws ! Call this a free country 
 and then tell me that a father mustn't leave 
 his own property to his own child ! Mr. 
 Montague didn't ought to take the place, and 
 I don't care who hears me say so.'
 
 :more bad XEWS 55 
 
 'I am afraid lie cant help it, Mills,' 
 answered Hope, smiling. ' It is no more liis 
 to give away than it was poor Papa's.' 
 
 ' Then he ought to make it np to you in 
 money,' said ]\Iills, drying her eyes. ' It can't 
 be ri^rht that he should be so rich, whilst 
 
 you— you 
 
 ' As far as that goes, I am rich too,' Hope 
 remarked. 
 
 MiUs appeared to be upon the brink of 
 another outburst of sobbing ; but she re- 
 strained herself and, getting up, walked to 
 the window. 
 
 ' My dear,' she said, after a pause, ' if you 
 was as rich as Creases you couldn't hve all by 
 yourself. Helston must be your home till you 
 marry ; and glad and happy your uncle and 
 aunt will be able to keep you. I will say for 
 them that I believe they'll be proud to keep 
 you, and let you have your old rooms and 
 your planner and your horses and all, same as 
 you've always been accustomed to. But I 
 can't ask them to keep me, nor yet I wouldn't 
 ask them. Let alone that George is a young
 
 6G A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 man and wants looking after. You'll come 
 and see me sometimes when you're in London, 
 won't you, my dear ? ' she added. 
 
 ' Of course I will, if you insist upon living 
 in London,' said Hope ; and after a little more 
 conversation, and some shedding of tears on 
 both sides. Mills prepared to depart. 
 
 Hope wanted to give her ten pounds 
 as a small parting gift ; but this the old 
 woman would not hear of. ' No, child, no,' 
 she said ; ' keep your money and take care 
 of it; it's — it's always a useful thing, and 
 none of us knows how soon we may need ten 
 pounds.' 
 
 This oracular speech, and indeed the 
 woman's whole manner throughout the inter- 
 view, raised some suspicions in Hope's mind. 
 What if she should prove to be less rich than 
 she had supposed herself? It seemed impos- 
 sible that she should be poor ; yet if Mills had 
 meant anything at all she must have meant 
 that. Wealth had always been to Hope Lefroy 
 what health is to those who have never known 
 a day's illness ; it was a blessing for which
 
 MOEE BAD XEWS 57 
 
 she was thankful in a general way, but which 
 she hardly appreciated at its full value, since 
 she was quite unable to imagine what life 
 would be like without it. She was not at all 
 alarmed by her old nurse's hints, only dis- 
 turbed and a little curious. She determined to 
 lose no time in finding out from her uncle 
 what her position was, and therefore made it 
 known that she would be present at luncheon 
 that day. 
 
 She did not notice a brief moment of em- 
 barrassment which marked her entrance into 
 the dining-room. Never havincr been ac- 
 customed to take either the head or the foot 
 of the table, she made at once for her usual 
 place, which happened to be on Mr. Lefroy's 
 right hand, thereby unconsciously earning the 
 approval of Lady Jane, whose horror of un- 
 pleasant situations was equalled only by her 
 dislike for those who created them. But, 
 despite this happy commencement, the con- 
 versation languished wofully. To be afflicted 
 is to be an affliction to one's neighbours, and 
 Hope's company would have been cheerfully
 
 58 A BACHELORS BLUXDKR 
 
 dispensed with by everyone present ; especially 
 by Mr. Lefroy, who guessed only too well 
 what had brought her among tliem, and fore- 
 saw that a bad quarter of an hour was in store 
 for him. 
 
 His fears were confirmed when his niece 
 lingered after the others had left the room 
 and intercepted a futile attempt at escape on 
 his own part. 'Are you busy, Uncle Mon- 
 tague ? ' she asked. ' If you are not, I should 
 like to have a little talk with you.' 
 
 Mr. Lefroy admitted that he w^as not busy 
 — at least, not very busy ; but gave it as his 
 opinion that a brisk walk in the fresh air was 
 a much better thing for people who had been 
 shut up ten days in the house than a dry talk 
 about business matters. 
 
 ' Perhaps I will take the walk afterwards 
 to counteract the effects of the talk,' Hope 
 replied. ' I won't keep you long. Uncle Mon- 
 tague ; I only wanted to ask you how much 
 money I shall have ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, well, you know, one can't answer 
 questions like that all in a inoment ; there
 
 MOKE BAD XEAVS o9 
 
 really is no hurry,' Mr. Lefroy was beginning ; 
 but Hope, who noticed the cloud that had 
 come over his good-humoured face, was not to 
 be put off in that way. 'You need not be 
 afraid of telling me the truth,' she said; 'I 
 don't expect it to be pleasant.' 
 
 ' Some confounded fool has been chattering 
 to you ! ' exclaimed Mr. Lefroy suspiciously. 
 
 ' Xo ; not a confounded fool ; only poor 
 old Mills. And she didn't chatter ; she merely 
 sighed. Please, let me hear the worst.' 
 
 Mr. Lefroy sighed almost as loudly as 
 Mills had done. 'Yery well, then.' he said 
 desperately, ' let us get it over. It is the 
 worst — quite the worst that you can imagine. 
 Do you remember, on the morning of your 
 poor father's death, my mentioning to you 
 that the Bank of Central England had failed ? ' 
 
 ' I remember perfectly well,' answered 
 Hope steadil}'. ' He was a shareholder, I 
 suppose.' 
 
 ' Yes ; I am sorry to say that lie was. 
 Heaven onl}- knows what can have tempted 
 him — however, there's no use in talkino- about
 
 €0 A BACHELORS BLUXDEU 
 
 tliat. The iinliappy fact is tliat lie did hold 
 shares ; and of course the estate is liable.' 
 
 ' To a large amount ? ' 
 
 ' It is impossible to say as yet,' Mr. Lefroy 
 began, and then paused. ""I think you would 
 rather that I spoke the plain truth,' he re- 
 sumed with somewhat of an effort ; ' I am 
 afraid that the claims made will swallow up 
 the entire estate — every penny of it.' 
 
 Hope gave a little gasp ; she had not anti- 
 cipated such a catastrophe as this. ' Will 
 Helston have to be sold ? ' she asked in a low 
 voice. 
 
 ' Helston ? Oh, no ; they can't touch the 
 entailed property ; and if they could, that 
 wouldn't affect you, my dear. But it seems 
 certain no^\^ that the whole of your fortune 
 will be lost. It's a bad business,' he added, 
 ' a dreadfully bad business, and I believe it 
 would liave killed your poor father if he could 
 have foreseen it. No doubt, indeed, that ivas 
 what killed him.' 
 
 'Oh! — do you think so?' exclaimed 
 Hope.
 
 MORE EAD XEWS 61 
 
 'Well, yes — the shock, you know. But 
 in any case ^ve could not have hoped to keep 
 him with us much longer ; he told me some 
 time ao'o that the doctors had a'iven him his 
 death-warrant. However, what I was croim? 
 to say was that, bad as matters are, we must 
 try to make the best of them. After all, 
 when one looks the thing in the face, what 
 does it amount to? Why, only that, instead of 
 being an heiress, as you might have been, 
 you are in tlie same position as Alice and 
 Gertrude. Some day, no doubt, you will all 
 three marry ; and if I know anything of Lady 
 Jane, you will marry men who are able to 
 give you the comforts that you are accus- 
 tomed to. Until then your life won't be an 
 unhappy one, I hope. We can t make up to 
 you for the loss of your father ; but as far 
 as money goes — well, you know, we are not 
 badly off, and I don't see why you need feel 
 any difference. Everything will go on just 
 as before.' 
 
 ' You are very kind. Uncle Montague,' an- 
 swered Hope ; ' but it is not possible that things
 
 62 A BACHELOHS BLUXDP:R 
 
 should go on just as before. If I have no 
 money of my own, it seems to me that I ought 
 to try and make some, and not be a burden 
 upon you.' 
 
 ' A burden ! ' exclaimed her uncle indig- 
 nantly ; ' what do you take us for ? Why, I 
 owe more to my brother Charles than you 
 could spend if you lived with me to the end 
 of your days and went in for every kind of 
 extravagance ! How many years do you sup- 
 pose I was at Southcote without paying a 
 shilling of rent ? Now, I'll tell you what it is, 
 Hope ; if you ever want to make a speech 
 which will vex and hurt me more than any- 
 thing else that you could say, you will repeat 
 the remark which you made just now. Please 
 to understand, once for all, that you lay your- 
 self under no sort of obhgation to anybody 
 by living here as you have been accustomed 
 to live.' 
 
 ' I sliould not mind being under an obliga- 
 tion to you. Uncle Montague,' answered Hope, 
 with a faint smile ; ' it isn't that.' 
 
 'What is it, thenP'
 
 3I0RE BAD XEWS GO 
 
 ' I am not sure tliat I can explain ; I must 
 have time to think. Anyhow, I will gladly 
 stay with you for the present, obhgation or no 
 obligation.' 
 
 ' You will stay with us until your wedding- 
 day,' said Mr. Lefroy decisively. ' And now 
 let us behave like sensible people, and not 
 worry ourselves with crying over spilt milk. 
 Suppose we enter into an agreement never to 
 refer to tliis subject again ? ' 
 
 Hope did not see her way to making any 
 such promise ; l3ut she was quite of her 
 uncle's mind as to the folly of crying over 
 spilt milk ; the more so as lamentation over the 
 loss of her fortune would have seemed to her 
 something like a reflection upon her father's 
 memory. Upon the whole, Mr. Lefroy was 
 very well satisfied with her reception of the 
 bad news, and confided to his vd^e that night 
 that Hope was a girl in a thousand. 
 
 ' There was no bother about making her 
 understand the state of the case ; she took it 
 in at once, and never so much as gave a groan. 
 The best thing that we can do for her now
 
 C4 A BACHELORS BLUJs^DER 
 
 is to find lier a suitable husband as soon as 
 we can.' 
 
 To which Lady Jane rephed : ' That will 
 not be quite such an easy matter as it would 
 have been a week or two ago.'
 
 65 
 
 CHAPTER IT. 
 
 A FKIEXD IX XEED. 
 
 The bread of charity must always taste bitter, 
 be the hand that bestows it never so generous, 
 and it did not take Hope long to decide that 
 the plan proposed by her uncle was one to 
 which she never could consent. She might, 
 and indeed must, accept his hospitahty ; she 
 might even make Helston in some sense her 
 home ; but her pride, of which she had rather 
 more than was quite desirable, revolted against 
 the idea of pensioned luxury. The law that 
 bound her was the law to which all humanity 
 is subject. 'I have no money, and therefore 
 my first duty is to make some,' she said to 
 herself, as though that were the easiest tiling 
 in the world. 
 
 The next question was, how was a young 
 Vol. I. F
 
 66 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 woman who had suddenly dropped from af- 
 fluence to pauperism to set about supporting 
 herself? — and the only answer that could be 
 made upon the spur of the moment was a 
 little disheartening. There seemed to be 
 nothing for it but to go out as a governess or 
 as companion to an old lady, for neither of 
 which employments could Hope feel that she 
 had the smallest natural aptitude. But in the 
 course of a few days her uncle made a com- 
 munication to her which simplified matters 
 greatly and caused her heart to leap with joy. 
 
 ' Oh, by-the-way, Hope,' he said, joining 
 her one morning after breakfast in the garden, 
 where she was pacing to and fro in grave 
 meditation, ' I want to tell you that I exag- 
 gerated a little in saying that your poor 
 father's estate would yield absolutely nothing. 
 We have rescued a trifle. It is only a trifle ; 
 but such as it is I have invested it for 3^ou 
 as your trustee, and it will bring you in about 
 250/. a year.' 
 
 The excellent man was telling a falsehood 
 which anyone with the least knowledge of
 
 A FRIEXD IX XEED 67 
 
 business matters must have detected at once. 
 It was impossible that any investment of the 
 late Mr. Lefroy's personal property could have 
 been made so soon ; nor was tliere a chance 
 of ever so small a portion thereof being saved 
 from the wreck ; but he had confidence in 
 his niece's inexperience ; and his confidence 
 was not misplaced, for neither then nor at 
 any subsequent time did Hope suspect that 
 the six thousand pounds invested in her name 
 had come out of the pocket of her guardian 
 and trustee. He had argued with himself that 
 it would be necessary to make lier an allowance 
 of some kind, and that if she could be led to 
 suppose that the said allowance was hers of 
 right, much needless and painful discussion 
 would be avoided. Had he foreseen in what 
 light this unexpected windfall would be re- 
 garded by its recipient, it is probable that he 
 would have stayed his hand ; but where is 
 the man wise enough to divine the queer 
 notions that will get into girls' minds ? 
 
 Hope's notion, if a queer one, did not 
 appear so to her. Her course was now clear, 
 
 f2
 
 CB A BACHELORS BLU^'DER 
 
 and slie felt herself free to utilise the one 
 talent with which, as she believed, nature and 
 education liad endowed her — that of painting. 
 It must be said for her that slie was an 
 amateur artist of far more than ordinary pro- 
 ficiency, and also that her expectations were 
 strictly moderate. She had learnt enough 
 to know how much remamed for her to learn, 
 and she did not deceive herself into thinking 
 that she would be able to sell her pictures for 
 some tnne to come. What she did think was 
 that, with the aid of her small fortune, she 
 could begin to study in serious earnest, and 
 after an hour or two of consideration her 
 plan assumed definite shape. Upon 250/. a 
 year one could hve. This she repeated to 
 herself several times with decision, because in 
 reality she was not quite certain of the fact. 
 The place of her abode must, of course, be 
 London ; and a most fortunate thing it was 
 that Mills' lodgings would afibrd her a shelter 
 to which nobody could take exception. As 
 regarded the course of study to be pursued, 
 slic meant to put herself in the hands of Mr.
 
 A FrJEXD IX NEED 69 
 
 Tristram, who, she knew, would befriend her 
 and give her the best advice in his power. 
 
 With that celebrated and eccentric man 
 her relations were already those of intimacy. 
 Her father, who had discovered Tristram's ge- 
 nius long before it dawned upon the reluctant 
 critics, had always dehghted in his society, 
 and would often run up to London for no 
 other purpose than to spend an hour or so in 
 his studio. Hope, as a child, used to take a 
 mute part in their conversations, understand- 
 ing very little of them, but gazing in fascina- 
 tion at the gigantic figure of the artist as he 
 strode up and down the room, declaiming, 
 gesticulating, pouring torrents of scorn and 
 invective upon some person or persons un- 
 known, while her father, his hands folded 
 upon the knob of his stick and his chin upon 
 his hands, sat listening with a smile and every 
 now and then putting in a quiet word. One 
 day Tristram became aware that his audience 
 consisted not only of an elderly gentleman but 
 also of a girl whose face was as nearly as 
 possible perfect in outhne, and whose wide-
 
 70 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 open eyes expressed all sorts of things, hidden 
 perhaps from the world at large, but percep- 
 tible to the artistic imagination. He came to 
 a halt before her and stood with his hands in 
 his pockets staring fixedly at her for a minute 
 or two. Then in his abrupt way he said : 
 ' Miss Lefroy, I am going to paint your 
 picture.' 
 
 Nobody making any objection, the picture 
 was painted, and exhibited in the Eoyal 
 Academy of the following year, where it 
 attracted a good deal of notice. It could 
 hardly be called a portrait : Tristram was not 
 a portrait-painter. In the catalogue it was 
 described as ' Hope : portrait of Miss Lefroy ; ' 
 and certainly nine-tenths of those who admired 
 it saw in it rather a representation of the 
 treasure which Alexander the Great is said to 
 have reserved for himself after dividing his 
 possessions among his friends, than of Miss 
 Lefroy, whoever she might be. But if not 
 a portrait, it was at least a likeness and an 
 admirable one ; and the father of the model 
 was considerably taken aback and a little
 
 A FPJEXD I\ >'EED 71 
 
 annoyed when, on inquiring the price of the 
 work, he was curtly informed that it was not 
 for sale. ' I mean to keep it,' the artist said. 
 ' I shall never paint anything better ; and, 
 besides, I have taken a fancy to your daugh- 
 ter's face ; it cheers me up when I have a fit 
 of the blues.' 
 
 This was, perhaps, a somewhat cool pro- 
 ceeding ; but Tristram was not a man who 
 troubled himself to consider whether his pro- 
 ceedings were cool or not, and those who 
 valued his friendship had to accept him as 
 he was. Hope, liking the man, liked his 
 peculiarities, and did not dream of being 
 ofiended with him because he sometimes 
 spoke roughly to her, or because he smiled 
 at the compositions which she ventured to 
 submit to his notice. His smile, to be sure, 
 was not a discouraging one. Without being 
 loud in his praises, he admitted that she was 
 making progress and that her drawing was 
 fairly correct. ' Ah, Miss Hope,' he said one 
 day, ' what a pity it is that you will never 
 have to work for your living ! ' The phrase
 
 72 A BACHELORS BLLWDER 
 
 recurred to lier memory now that she was 
 resolved to work for her Hving. 
 
 Thus, by degrees, and by the pressure of 
 other thoughts, Hope's great sorrow became 
 more bearable to her ; but although her in- 
 tentions with regard to the future were now 
 fixed, she took very good care to say nothing 
 about them as yet to anybody. There would 
 be very little use in her moving to London 
 before the autumn, and none whatsoever in 
 divulging too soon a scheme which was certain 
 to provoke opposition. So she kept her own 
 counsel, submitting herself outwardly to the 
 wishes of her uncle and aunt, who did all that 
 they could to render the change in her posi- 
 tion as little evident to her as possible. They 
 had every wish to be considerate, and when,, 
 in the month of August, they moved to South - 
 cote for a few weeks, and she begged to be 
 left behind at Helston, they yielded to her 
 entreaties, although Lady Jane did not quite 
 like it. It may be that they would have been 
 less amenable, had they not wanted to ask a 
 few friends down to stay, and felt that the
 
 A FEIEXD IX XEED 73 
 
 presence of the orphan m her black crape 
 might be ratlier a restraint upon the cheerful- 
 ness of the younger members of the family. 
 
 That period of sohtude and hberty Hope 
 enjoyed so much that she more than once 
 reproached herself for her good spirits. She 
 worked at her painting with a new and pro- 
 fessional interest, she rose early and wandered 
 out across the park and along the grassy 
 shooting-drives that intersected the woods ; in 
 the evening she usually went out for a ride, 
 attended by the same sober old groom who 
 had first taught her to sit upon her pony. She 
 was free to come and go as she pleased ; she 
 had no one's convenience to consult but her 
 own, and her own company did not weary her. 
 But the return of ' the family,' as the servants 
 had already taken to caUing the new inmates 
 of Helston Abbey, had been announced for 
 the middle of September, and punctually on 
 the appointed day they arrived, bringing with 
 them two or three of the guests whom they 
 had been entertaining at Southcote. ' Only 
 quite intimate friends, almost relations in fact,'
 
 74 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 Lady Jane whispered, after she had embraced 
 her niece. ' Of course we would not ask 
 anyone else just now : but your uncle won't 
 go out shooting all by himself, and it is so bad 
 for him to have no exercise.' 
 
 Hope did not feel that the case was one 
 which called for apologies. Being human, she 
 could not quite enjoy seeing others in posses- 
 sion of what had until lately been to all intents 
 and purposes hers ; but the addition of a few 
 somewhat taciturn sportsmen to the party 
 was no increase of her trial. Only one of 
 them had the good fortune to interest her ; 
 and perhaps she would not have noticed him, 
 had she not remembered to have seen his face 
 at the one and only ball which she had 
 attended, or was now likely to attend, in 
 London. He was a tall, thin man, with sun- 
 burnt face and hands and a long moustache ; 
 his frame was rather loosely put together, but 
 he had the appearance of muscular strength 
 and good condition ; his voice was a pleasant 
 one, notwithstanding a drawling intonation, 
 which, combined with his habit of keeping his
 
 A FRIEND IX NEED 75 
 
 eyes half closed, conveyed an impression of 
 constitutional indolence ; and his face, Hope 
 thought, vfRs pleasant, too, though certainly 
 not handsome. She mentally set him down as 
 middle-aged, and did not consider the defini- 
 tion an incorrect one when she heard that he 
 was just six-and-thirty. The girls, of whom 
 she inquired his name, told her that he was 
 Dick Herbert, ' a sort of cousin of Mamma's,' 
 and added that he was great fun ; but when 
 asked in what way his funniness displayed 
 itself, could only repeat their assertion, with- 
 out supporting it by instances. 
 
 ' Everybody knows him and everybody 
 hkes him,' they declared. ' He has lots of 
 money, and he has never married and says 
 he never will, which, of course, makes him 
 the more interesting. He always does just 
 as he likes, and says whatever comes into his 
 head.' 
 
 This description, as Hope pointed out, 
 seemed to apply to a person more funny than 
 agreeable, but her cousins assured her that 
 Dick was both. ' He is a dear old thing,' they
 
 76 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 said. Alas 1 it is thus that maidens of twenty 
 or under will speak of a man in the prime of 
 life, and the truth is that Mr. Herbert was 
 getting a little grey about the temples. 
 
 One evening after dinner, when the men 
 came into the drawing-room, he steered 
 straight for the sofa upon which Hope was 
 sitting, and dropped down beside her. She 
 thought he was going to say something, but 
 a23parently he had no such intention, and after 
 he had quietly contemplated her from beneath 
 his eyelashes for several minutes, she broke 
 the silence by remarking : ' You find Helston 
 rather a dull place, I am afraid ? ' 
 
 ' I ? Oh, no ; the people are a little bit dull, 
 some of them ; but I shouldn't call the place 
 so. Besides, I can go away when I've had 
 enough of it. I always do go away as soon 
 as I begin to get bored anywhere.' 
 
 ' And do you generally stay until then ? ' 
 inquired Hope, with a smile. 
 
 ' No, because, as a rule, I have a pretty 
 good lot of engagements from about this time 
 of year onwards. I'm rather a good shot,
 
 A FRIEXD IX NEED 77 
 
 you see/ lie added, by way of explaining this 
 circumstance. He relapsed into silence for a 
 time, and then startled Hope a good deal by 
 resuming : ' I say, shall you go on Hving here ? ' 
 
 ' It would be natural that I should, would 
 it not ? ' she answered, not being ready -with 
 any reply to so unexpected a question. 
 
 He shook his head. ' Not to you ; some 
 people wouldn't mind, of course. Still,' he 
 concluded pensively, ' I don't see how you can 
 very Avell do anything else.' 
 
 He so evidently did not mean to be im- 
 pertinent that Hope could not feel aflronted. 
 She took a long look at his face, which was 
 an honest, friendly sort of face, and a strong 
 inclination to divulge her project to him took 
 possession of her. It was not that she wanted 
 his advice, for her resolution was taken, but 
 even the most independent of mortals hke to 
 be backed up sometimes, and it struck lier 
 that Mr. Herbert would probably back lier 
 up in this instance. She could not, however, 
 make a confidant of a man whom she scarcely 
 knew, but she thought that perhaps she would
 
 78 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 do SO at some future time if they became 
 better acquainted. 
 
 They did become better acquainted, and 
 their acquaintance ripened with singular ra- 
 pidity. Somehow or other, Hope constantly 
 found herself left in his company, and though 
 he did not talk much, his manner encouraged 
 her to talk a good deal, while his uncere- 
 monious ways set her at her ease. He treated 
 her, she thought, much as a good-natured 
 elder brother might have done ; she was a 
 thousand miles from suspecting that Lady 
 Jane was designedly throwing her at the 
 head of one of the most desirable bachelors 
 in England, or from perceiving the various 
 stratagems by which that well-meaning woman 
 was trying to effect her purpose. Mr. Herbert, 
 who understood it all jDerfectly w^ell, under- 
 stood the girl's innocence also ; otherwise it is 
 probable that his engagements would have 
 called him away before he had been three 
 days at Helston. 
 
 A person who is disposed towards making 
 confessions is seldom thwarted through lack
 
 A FRIEND IX XEED 79 
 
 of opportunity. It happened one afternoon 
 that Mr. Herbert, who tired of partridge- 
 shooting more easily than his host, was 
 wending his way homewards with his gun 
 under his arm, when he encountered Mss 
 Lefroy at some distance from the house ; and 
 she, seeing no reason why she should not turn 
 and walk with him, consulted her own wishes 
 in the matter. They conversed for some time 
 upon various unimportant topics — or rather, 
 Hope conversed while her companion hstened 
 — then, a propos of nothing at all, he said : 
 
 ' Do you know. Miss Lefroy, I feel rather 
 bothered about you ? ' 
 
 ' In wdiat way ? ' Hope asked. 
 
 ' The outlook doesn't seem to me very 
 promising. How do you get on with Lady 
 Jane? Does she ever have tantrums? ' 
 
 ' Xever, tliat I am aware of,' answered 
 Hope. 
 
 ' I expect she does, though, or her husband 
 wouldn't be always stroking her down. I 
 shouldn't wonder if she was rather an old cat 
 when she was rubbed the wrong way.'
 
 80 A BACHELOllS BLUNDER 
 
 ' Please remember that you are speaking 
 of my aunt,' said Hope. 
 
 ' Well, you didn't make her, though she is 
 your aunt ; and she is no blood-relation of 
 yours, after all. Upon my word, if I were 
 you, I think I should try to get out of this 
 before the wind changed.' 
 
 ' I think I shall,' said Hope quietly ; 
 ' though not exactly for that reason.' And 
 without further preface she unfolded the 
 scheme which she had planned out for her 
 future career. 
 
 Herbert did not interrupt her. The only 
 comment that he permitted himself, after she 
 had done, was : * There'll be a nice row when 
 you tell them ! ' 
 
 ' I suppose so ; but I fancy that I shall be 
 able to survive that.' 
 
 ' Very likely ; you seem to have plenty of 
 pluck. But, to tell you the truth, I think you 
 will have to give up this idea after a bit. I 
 know something about an artist's life, because 
 I have a young protege who is going to set 
 the Thames on fire some fine day, and I hear
 
 A FRIEND IX XEED 81 
 
 about it from him. He is up in London now, 
 studying. Of course that sort of Bohemian 
 existence is all very well for him, for his name 
 is Jacob Stiles — did you ever hear such a 
 name ! — and he had no father to speak of ; 
 but it would be a very different thing for you. 
 A woman can't get out of her own class.' 
 
 ' Yet you advised me just now to get out 
 of Helston ? ' 
 
 'That's another matter. Of course mar- 
 riage is the only means of escape open to you.' 
 
 ' Thank you,' said Hope rather coldly ; 
 ' but I don't feel inclined to adopt that means/ 
 
 ' I suppose you are not of age yet ? ' ob- 
 served Herbert, after reflecting for a few 
 minutes. 
 
 Hope confessed that she was not. 
 
 ' So that if old Lefroy won't hear of your 
 going in for the painting business, you'll be 
 about done, won't you ? ' 
 
 ' I shall try to get him to consent, at all 
 events,' replied Hope. ' You are not very 
 encouraging,' she added, in a rather injured 
 tone. 
 
 Vol. I. G
 
 82 A BACHELORS CLUXDEE, 
 
 ' I don't mean to be. Yon'll liave no end 
 of a fuss before you get your own way ; and, 
 besides, I don't mucli fancy the notion of your 
 living in London lodgings all by yourself. 
 Still, perhaps, as you say, it might be Avortli 
 a trial. Anything for liberty.' 
 
 Hope changed the subject and regretted 
 having introduced it. From a man of Mr. 
 Herbert's independent character rather less 
 conventional language might have been ex- 
 pected, she thought, and he might at least 
 have displayed a little interest in what he had 
 been told. She did not give him credit for 
 being more interested than he chose to ap- 
 pear ; nor did she know that it was in order 
 to do her a service that he deserted her after 
 dinner that evening, and seated himself in a 
 distant corner beside Lady Jane. 
 
 ' That niece of yours,' he remarked casually 
 to his hostess, ' is an uncommonly clever girl.' 
 
 ' She is a clever girl, and a pretty girl, and 
 a good girl,' said Lady Jane emphatically. 
 
 ' Yes, all that. There are plenty of pretty 
 girls about, and I am quite sure that there
 
 A FRIEXD IX XEED 83 
 
 are a fair number of good ones ; but it isn't 
 every day that you meet a girl who can paint 
 hke Miss Lefroy.' 
 
 ' H'm — well, no ; I daresay not,' agreed 
 Lady Jane, who was not very strong as an art- 
 critic. 
 
 ' I was looking at some of her pictures the 
 other day,' Herbert went on, ' and I was very 
 much struck with them — I was really. It 
 seems a thousand pities that so much talent 
 shouldn't be utihsed.' 
 
 ' Do you mean that she ought to sell her 
 pictures ? ' 
 
 ' Why shouldn't she P It's an honourable 
 profession, and, under present circumstances, 
 I suppose the money would be welcome to 
 her. Of course she might not find purchasers 
 for the things that she has done already ; but 
 after a year or so of study I do believe she 
 would turn out an artist.' 
 
 ' There is no necessity for Hope to make 
 money ; but I am sure I shaU be very glad to 
 let her have lessons when we are in London,' 
 Lady Jane said, graciously. 
 
 o 2
 
 84 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 ' Oh, I don't mean that sort of thing ; you 
 can't learn an art in that way. To do any 
 good, you must go in for the thing thoroughly 
 — live in London, you know, and give up 
 society and work hard. I was talking to her 
 about it to-day. If only there were some 
 respectable person whom she could board 
 with — however, 1 suppose it couldn't be 
 managed.' 
 
 ' Eeally,' said Lady Jane, 'I don't quite see 
 how it could.' 
 
 ' No — oh, no ; it was only a dream of mine.' 
 
 He said nothing more for a while ; but 
 when Lady Jane was beginning : ' I look upon 
 dear Hope quite as one of my own daughters 
 
 now ' he interrupted her with : ' If ever I 
 
 marry, which isn't a very likely event to come 
 off, I shall marry a woman who can do some- 
 thino-. I could make a friend of a woman 
 like that ; I should never be able to stand a 
 wife who had only a pretty face and nice 
 manners. Upon my word, I 'd as soon marry 
 a lady-doctor.' 
 
 ' My dear Dick,' returned Lady Jane af-
 
 A FEIEXD IX XEED 85 
 
 fectionately, ' you will never marry at all ; and 
 to be quite candid, I shouldn't care to see 
 any girl whom I was fond of married to you. 
 You are too fastidious and fanciful.' 
 
 This she said to show her dear Dick how 
 guiltless she was of any designs upon him ; 
 but that nio'ht she remarked to her husband, 
 with a certain quiet triumph : ' Montague, 
 I am going to astonish you.' 
 
 ' I am sorry to hear it,' said Mr. Lefroy, 
 apprehensively. 
 
 ' You need not be sorry ; it is nothing 
 unpleasant, only something very surprising. 
 I have discovered that Dick Herbert has 
 fallen over head and ears in love with Hope.' 
 
 ' Oh,' said LIr. Lefroy, ' I could have told 
 you that some days ago ; but falHng a little 
 bit in love isn't quite the same thing as mar- 
 rying. Added to which, it don't follow that 
 she is in love with him. You had better pre- 
 pare yourself for a possible disappointment.' 
 
 ' I am always prepared for disappoint- 
 ment,' Lady Jane declared ; ' but if I know 
 anything of the ways of girls, Hope will not
 
 86 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 refuse Dick. My only fear is that lie will 
 take a long time making up his mind to 
 propose, and perhaps will never do it at all.' 
 
 He certainly did not do it before his de- 
 parture, which took j)lace two days later ; 
 but at the last moment he took occasion to 
 whisper to Hope : ' I think I've helped you a 
 tiny bit. Don't broach the great plan for a 
 day or two, and mind you are extra civil to 
 your aunt. She is capable of taking your 
 side if you keep in with her.'
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE DOCTOR IXTERVEXES. 
 
 ' Come ! ' said ^h\ Lefroy, persuasively. ' I 
 think we might arrive at a compromise if we 
 tried. You say that your hfe is your own to 
 dispose of, and that you wish to devote it to 
 the service of Art. As a fact, your hfe is not 
 altogether at your own disposal just yet ; but 
 we will waive that. Let it be agreed that 
 henceforth the chief aim and object of your 
 existence is to be the painting and selling of 
 pictures. So be it, and I shall be dehghted 
 to help you in any possible way ; only allow- 
 ing you to live all by yourself in London 
 lodgings is not a possible way.' 
 
 It was on a misty October day that Mr. 
 Lefroy, in the course of an interview ^vith his 
 niece, thus dehvered himself. He was sitting 
 in his study, which had once been his brother's
 
 88 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 study, and was still full of his brother's books 
 and odds and ends. He was sorry to be 
 obliged to receive Hope there ; but what 
 could he do ? He must have a den of some 
 kind and he could not shut the room up. 
 Nevertheless, the influence of the place caused 
 him to listen very patiently to what the girl 
 had to say, and prevented him from meeting 
 her request with a blunt refusal. 
 
 ' You yourself must see,' he continued, 
 ' that it would never do for us to turn you 
 adrift like a friendless orphan ; but you can 
 have the best masters and attend classes, or 
 Schools of Art, or anything that you hke, 
 while we are in town ; that is to say, from 
 early in March till the middle or end of July. 
 Have you any objection to make to that 
 proposal ? ' 
 
 ' Only that it would altogether defeat my 
 object,' answered Hope, smihng. ' I want to 
 be a professional artist, not an amateur ; and 
 I want something else, too, but I am afraid 
 you won't like my saying so. Uncle Montague 
 — ^I want to be independent.'
 
 THE DOCTOn IXTERVEXES 89 
 
 ' My dear cliild, you might as well say 
 that you want to be Queen of Great Britain 
 and Ireland, Empress of India, and Defender 
 of the Faith. Xot that you would be indepen- 
 dent then. Great as the charms of indepen- 
 dence are, very few of us — certainly very few 
 3^oung ladies — are permitted to enjoy them. 
 Let us take comfort from the thought that 
 perhaps it wouldn't be good for us if vre were.' 
 
 ' I should not wish to be independent if 
 Papa were living, or if I were your daughter,' 
 Hope said. ' I think you understand what I 
 mean.' 
 
 ' I dechne to understand. My position 
 towards you is that of a father ; I regard you 
 as being, for all practical purposes, one of 
 my daughters, and I can only say to you, as 
 I should to Ahce or Gertrude in a similar 
 case, that your demand is outrageous.' 
 
 ' That is hardly fair. Uncle Montague,' re- 
 turned Hope, her colour rising slightly. 'I 
 did not expect you to be pleased at my 
 wishing to leave Helston ; I know it must 
 seem ungrateful, though I am not really
 
 90 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 ungrateful ; but I can't see tliat I am asking 
 for anything outrageous.' 
 
 ' Very well, I withdraw " outrageous." 
 Nowadays I find that I can never open my 
 lips in the House without being called upon 
 to withdraw something ; so that tlie sensa- 
 tion is not new to me. I will substitute 
 "amazing." You can't object to " amazing" ; 
 it is a term which may be applied to the 
 noblest forms of ambition. My dear Hope, 
 your ambition may be a noble one and a 
 creditable one — far be it from me to assert 
 the contrary ! — but it has the fatal defect of 
 being impracticable. Girls of your age can't 
 go off and set up house by themselves ; that 
 sort of thing isn't done.' 
 
 ' Yet, if I had been an heiress, it might 
 have been done.' 
 
 'Eeally, I don't think so. You Avould 
 have been my ward, in any case, until you 
 were of age, and I could hardly have con- 
 sented to your living apart from us. How- 
 ever, we need not consider what might have 
 been. Come, Hope ; give up this extravagant
 
 THE DOCTOR IXTEEVE^ES 91 
 
 project — well, well, I withdraw '* extrava- 
 gant," the project can go without an adjec- 
 tive, since it is to be thrown overboard — 
 give up thinking about it, and, as I said 
 before, I'll do the best I can for you. I'll 
 speak to your aunt.' 
 
 ' Couldn't we speak to her now, Uncle 
 Montague ? ' 
 
 ' Heaven forbid ! Do you wish to see 
 Lady Jane stretched upon the floor in a fit ? 
 What I meant was that I would speak to her 
 about your takuig lessons in London.' 
 
 But Hope, wlio had been tentatively sound- 
 ing her aunt for some time past, and had been 
 surprised at the amicable spirit in which her 
 hints had been taken, was less apprehensive 
 than Mr. Lefroy ; and at that moment, as 
 luck would have it. Lady Jane herself walked 
 into the room, bringing with her some letters 
 as to which she wished to consult her 
 husband. Hope at once opened the attack 
 all along the hue, Avithout any preliminary 
 skirmishing. 
 
 'Aunt Jane, do you see any harm in my
 
 92 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 going up to London to study painting? I 
 should live with Mills, who Avould take the 
 greatest possible care of me, and I know 
 Mr. Tristram would put me in the way of 
 learning what people who adopt Art as a pro- 
 fession on!2^ht to learn. I must do somethinix, 
 and I may learn to be an artist ; I feel that I 
 shall never learn to be anything else.' 
 
 Mr. Lefroy closed his ej^es and waited for 
 the storm to burst. He opened them again 
 to their fullest extent at the first sound of liis 
 wife's voice and fixed them upon her face, 
 which, to his profound astonishment, was 
 wreathed in smiles. 
 
 Lady Jane was shaking her head gently. 
 ' My dear child,' said she, ' you are far too 
 sensible to have ever imagined that such a 
 thing as this could be possible, and you need 
 not tell me who put it into your head. It is 
 Dick Herbert all over. Dick is a dear, good 
 fellow ; but you should beware of taking him 
 too literally. He has defied conventionality 
 all his life, and of course there is no reason 
 wliv he shouldn't, if he chooses ; but it is too
 
 THE DOCTOR IXTERVEXE3 93 
 
 bad of liini to have given you the idea that 
 you could do the same. However, he has 
 most hkely forgotten all about it by this 
 time.' 
 
 ' It was not Mr. Herbert's idea, it was my 
 own,' replied Hope ; ' and it is quite the same 
 ihincr to me whether he remembers or forsrets 
 it. ^Yhy should you say that I am defying 
 conventionality? It is only as if I were 
 going to school ; and you would not mind 
 my doing that if I were a year or two 
 younger. Oh, Aunt Jane,' she continued, 
 laying her hand upon her aunt's arm and 
 speaking with a little quiver in her voice, 
 ' please let me go ! I can't stay here. You 
 are all very kind ; but — but — oh, don't you 
 see that I caiit stay ? ' 
 
 Lady Jane did not see it at all, and did 
 not like the tone that her niece was taking 
 up. ' My dear,' she answered, drawing away 
 her arm, while the smile faded from her face, 
 ' you reaUy must try to be more reasonable. 
 Ask me for something that I can give you^ 
 and I shall be only too glad to make you
 
 94 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 happy ; but you cau't expect me to coun- 
 tenance this extravac^ant scheme.' 
 
 ' We don't withdraw " extravagant " this 
 time,' murmured Mr. Lefroy ; but his inter- 
 ruption was not heeded. Hope went on 
 pleading, at first humbly, then passionately, 
 then tearfully ; but Lady Jane kept her tem- 
 per and maintained her authority, and the 
 end of it was that her niece had to Avithdraw 
 from the held, vanquished. 
 
 The girl's disappointment Avas very bitter. 
 She had set her heart upon getting her own 
 way, and experience had not taught her that 
 those who get their own way in this world do 
 so more commonly by circuitous than by direct 
 means. The worst of it was that, upon reflec- 
 tion, she could not help seeing how much 
 more plausible her aunt's case was than her 
 own. She was to be allowed to take lessons 
 during five months of the year, if she was so 
 minded ; all that was denied to her was inde- 
 pendence — and, as a matter of abstract theory, 
 a girl of nineteen certainly should not wish to 
 be independent. * I must wait until I am
 
 Till-: DOCTOK IXTER VEXES 95 
 
 twenty-one, that is all,' she said to herself, and 
 the prospect was not a smiling one. To go on 
 living as a stranger in her old home — how 
 could she endure it ? A hundred little daily 
 rubs and worries, which, for being quite inevit- 
 able in her position, were not the less galling, 
 recurred to her mind, and she could no longer 
 make li^ht of them. She had nothincr to set 
 against them now, nothing to look forward to, 
 for who can look two whole years ahead ? 
 Hope's disposition was naturally sweet and 
 sanguine ; she was determined not to sulk 
 because she had been thwarted, and she tried 
 to go about with as cheerful a face as usual. 
 But in private she brooded and fretted until 
 at last she made herself so ill that the doctor 
 had to be called in. 
 
 The doctor was a cheery, good-humoured 
 little man who had known ^liss Lefroy from 
 the day of her birth. A very few questions 
 and answers sufficed to show him what was 
 the matter, and on being led into the library 
 by Lady Jane, he asked whether he might 
 be permitted to suggest a moral prescription.
 
 90 A BACHELORS BLUXDER 
 
 ' Please suggest anything that you like/ 
 answered Lady Jane, resignedly. ' I know 
 what you are going to say : the poor girl is 
 not happy. But how can I help it ? ' 
 
 'Oh,' said the doctor,'! think you can 
 help it. Do you know, Lady Jane, I was once 
 summoned to attend a little boy in a humble 
 rank of life who was consumed with anxiety 
 to go to sea. He was not ht for it ; he hadn't 
 the constitution for it, and he had never been 
 accustomed to being cuffed. He was the only 
 son of his parents, who naturally couldn't 
 endure the thought of his being flogged with 
 a rope's end and possibly drowned. They 
 reasoned with liim, they scolded him, I am 
 not sure that they didn't even give liim a 
 gentle whipping ; but it was all no good. The 
 boy literally pined away, and at last they got 
 friizhtened and sent for me. I had a o-ood 
 deal of difficulty in prevailing upon tJiem to 
 let him do as he wished, but I succeeded in 
 tlie end, and when a year was up he returned 
 from his first and last voyage, radically cured. 
 He is now a respectable carpenter in a good
 
 THE DOCTOE IXTERYEXES 97 
 
 way of business, and when he takes his wife 
 and family for a day's hoHday he goes any- 
 where rather than to the seaside.' 
 
 'That is all very well,' said Lady Jane, 
 ' but suppose he had liked a seafaring hfe ? ' 
 
 ' In that case I presume that he would 
 have made a good sailor; and there are worse 
 people than good sailors in this world. I am 
 not competent to give an opinion as to whether 
 Miss Hope will ever become an artist or not, 
 but I don't hesitate to say that there is nothing 
 like a personal trial of the realities of hfe for 
 dispeUing visions and making young ladies and 
 carpenters' apprentices contented with their 
 respective lots.' 
 
 Lady Jane stroked her chin with her eye- 
 glasses. ' Perhaps,' she said meditatively, 
 ' there may be something in that. For my 
 own part, all I ^\ish is to do what is right, and 
 if we do decide to follow your advice, I shall 
 feel easier about asking do^^m a few friends 
 whom Mr. Lefroy wishes to have here for the 
 covert-shootino- and whom we reallv ouglit to 
 ask. While clear Hope is in the house I quite 
 
 Vol. I. H
 
 98 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 dread inviting anybody ; because, althougli 
 she says nothing, I can see that it is painful to 
 her. On the other hand, if we send lier away 
 people are sure to say that we want to get rid 
 of her. Still, if you, as her medical attendant, 
 are quite convinced that she ought to go to 
 London ' 
 
 ' I have not a doubt of it,' replied the 
 doctor, with a perfectly grave face and a 
 twinkle in the corner of his eye. ' It is true 
 that your niece is at present free from organic 
 disease, but I daresay you are aware that in 
 every human body there is a predisposition 
 towards one form of ailment or another, and 
 Miss Hope's low, nervous condition is espe- 
 cially favourable to the development of — er — 
 active mischief. In short, if she is vexed 
 or crossed, I will not be answerable for tlie 
 consequences.' 
 
 ' That,' observed Lady Jane with a sigh of 
 resignation, ' is conclusive. Health should be 
 the first consideration, and since you order 
 Hope to London, I must not venture to dis- 
 obey you.'
 
 THE DOCTOR IXTERVEXE3 99 
 
 Thus Hope obtained lier freecLjin alter all ; 
 not because she had asked for it, or because it 
 was good for her, or because anybody really 
 tliought it desirable ; but because young 
 Lord Middlcborough had paid a good deal 
 of attention to Alice during the past season ; 
 because Lord ^iddleborough liked pheasant- 
 shooting ; because it was impossible to ask 
 him to Helston without inviting a party to 
 meet him ; and, finally, because ' the doctor 
 ordered it ' is, or ought to be, a sufficient 
 answer to any ill-natured persons who might 
 accuse a fond aunt of turnini]^ her niece out 
 of doors. Let us hasten to add, in justice to 
 Lady Jane, that she was quite unconscious of 
 this string of motives ; and indeed, if we once 
 l)egin prying either into our own or into other 
 people's motives, we are likely to waste much 
 time and gain little satisfaction. Hope did 
 nothing of the kind. She was too much 
 pleased with the result to care whether its 
 causes were simple or complex, and the very 
 same evening she wrote to ^IaRs to ask for the 
 accommodation that she requked.
 
 100 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 By return of post Mills expressed in glow- 
 ing language her pride at having been selected 
 to take charge of her young mistress, her 
 dehcfht at the thoucfht of the meetino; which 
 was now so near, and her fears lest a first fioor 
 in Henrietta Street, Cavendish Square, should 
 seem terribly restricted in point of size and 
 mean in point of furniture by comparison with 
 the space and magnificence of Helston Abbey. 
 She further intimated her surprise that the 
 family should have decided to send Miss Hope 
 to lodgings, seeing that the house in Eaton 
 Square was standing empty, and that a few 
 servants could very well have been spared ' to 
 make you comfortable, the same as your poor, 
 dear Papa would have wished.' She added, 
 however, that it was not for her to complain 
 of the arrangement that had been made. ' And 
 if your own flesh and blood don't know your 
 value, my dear, your old nurse does. So 
 please tell her ladyship, with my respectful 
 duty, that you will be took as much care of 
 here as if you was at home.' 
 
 Evidently Mills was one of those ill- con-
 
 THE DOCTOR IXTEKVEXES 101 
 
 ditionecl persons, mentioned by Lady Jane, 
 who would be sure to accuse Hope's relations 
 of wishing to get rid of her. It did not, 
 therefore, seem advisable to show her ladyship 
 the whole of ^lills' letter, although the above 
 message was duly delivered and graciously 
 received. 
 
 Lady Jane, indeed, appeared determined to 
 be gracious. During the last week of her 
 stay at Helston, Hope was troubled with no 
 more remonstrances, and only had to listen to 
 a good many homilies touching the conduct 
 which it would behove her to adopt in London. 
 She might, of course, call upon such of her 
 friends as happened to be in town ; but it 
 would be better that she should not do so too 
 frequently, and on no account whatever was 
 she to form fresh acquaintances. It was 
 taken for granted tliat her absence would 
 only be temporary and that she would be 
 back before the end of the year, which im- 
 pression she wisely did not attempt to correct. 
 * I will certainly be with you at Christmas,' she 
 said, not adding that she proposed to allow
 
 1C2 A BACIIELORS BLUNDER 
 
 herself no more tlmn a fortnight's hohday at 
 that time. 
 
 Nevertheless, she was unable to avoid a 
 dispute with her uncle about money, her 
 intention being to live upon the 250/. a year 
 provided for her, which Mr. Lefroy declared 
 to be preposterous and impossible. Her 
 knowledge of the subject was so limited that 
 she was easily put to silence, and in the end 
 had to accept, with a mental reservation, the 
 additional sum stated to be absolutely neces- 
 sary for her support during the next three 
 months. 
 
 ' I wish there was no such thing as money 
 in the world ! ' she exclaimed impatiently at 
 last ; and perhaps there was some truth in 
 the remark made by Mr. Lefroy to his wife, 
 as they stood watching tlie carriage which 
 bore Hope away to the station : 
 
 ' My dear, I am quite ready to admit that 
 you are generally right, while I am generally 
 wrong ; but to all rules there are exceptions 
 and I can't help thinking that you have made 
 a little mistake in allowini:^ that 2^irl to a:et her 
 
 C o O
 
 THE DOCTOR IXTERVEXES 103 
 
 liead up. I shouldn't be surprised if she 
 broke clean away from you, after this.' 
 
 But Lady Jane said : ' Montague, you do 
 not understand girls. She will come back in 
 a very different frame of mind, and before this 
 time next year she will be married to Dick 
 Herbert.' 
 
 'Will she indeed? When that event 
 comes off I shall be more than ever convinced 
 tliat you are a very superior woman.' 
 
 ' I hope you will. In the meantime be 
 thankful that you can now ask as many men 
 as you wish down to shoot your pheasants. 
 
 Whereupon Mr. Lefroy, who knew very 
 well that the men who would be asked to 
 shoot his pheasants would not be men of 
 his choosing, smiled, and returned to his 
 study.
 
 104 A BACIIELOPtS BLUXDP:R. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 TnEEE are more quiet houses in London than 
 is, perhaps, generally supposed ; and probably 
 there would be more still if tlie majority of 
 people did not secretly enjoy the din of which 
 they so often complain. Such houses must, 
 however, of course, be situated in a cul-de-sac^ 
 and this is apt to make them as dreary to 
 those who like looking out of tlie window as 
 they are dehghtful to persons of a studious 
 turn or nervous temperament. The noise of 
 the traffic comes to them from afar in a 
 subdued, continuous roar, like the breaking 
 of the sea upon a shingly beach ; organ- 
 grinders and costermongers shun them ; often 
 they have gardens attached to them — some- 
 what grimy ones, it is true, still gardens ; and
 
 TRISTRAM, R.A. 105 
 
 the owner of one of these is to be seen by his 
 neighbours on most summer evenings, pacing 
 up and down, his pipe in his mouth, his soft 
 felt hat on the back of his head, and his 
 hands in the pockets of his shabby shooting- 
 coat, until the darkness hides him. 
 
 The neighbours, peering inquisitively down 
 at this tall, sohtary figure, are wont to wonder 
 what he is thinking about, and no doubt their 
 inability to satisfy their curiosity saves them 
 from disappointment ; for, like the rest of the 
 world, Wilfrid Tristram, E.A., frequently 
 thinks about nothing worth mentioning. Yet, 
 being, as he unquestionably is, a man of great 
 and original genius, it is only natural that he 
 should be an object of interest to those who 
 dwell around him. He is famous, he is odd, 
 and he is reported to be wealthy. His house, 
 which was built from his own designs about ten 
 years ago, and which stands in a short street 
 not far from Paitland Gate, is as orioinal as its 
 master and by no means as shabby as his coat . 
 Constructed by an artist for an artist, it would 
 be unlit for any other occupant, and unless
 
 100 A bachelor's blunder 
 
 Tristram leaves it to an artist at liis death it 
 will have to be pulled down. It possesses an 
 entrance-hall of noble dimensions, a vast and 
 admirably lighted studio, a good- sized dining- 
 room, a small smoking-room, and no drawing- 
 room at all. There is said to be accommoda- 
 tion for one or two visitors upstairs ; but as 
 Tristram never has a visitor to stay with him 
 this is space thrown away. 
 
 Friends, however, he has, and plenty of 
 them. It is probably for their sake that he 
 keeps an excellent cook, he himself being 
 utterly indifferent as to what he eats and 
 drinks. His dinner-parties, which occur on 
 an average twice a week during the season, 
 and to which only men are invited, are popu- 
 lar. There is no formality about them ; a 
 large proportion of those who attend them 
 have achieved distinction in some way ; they 
 are enlivened by a good deal of merriment, 
 and the company seldom separates until the 
 night is far advanced. The host, when in the 
 humour, can be as gay as the youngest of his 
 guests and will even indulge in a little horse-
 
 TRISTKAM, v.. A. 107 
 
 play upon occasion ; but it is doubtful whether 
 he does not prefer his own society to that of 
 anybody else. There are men who, by nature, 
 or by the force of circumstances, are doomed 
 to be always alone, and such men are probably 
 never more alone than when they are sur- 
 rounded by companions. Tristram's history — 
 or, if not his history, some approximate version 
 of it which did as well — was known to his 
 friends, and was considered by them to explain 
 some of his pecuharities. Many years back, 
 his wife, to whom he was said to have been 
 passionately attached, had left him for the sake 
 of a good-looking young fool, by whom she, 
 in her turn, had been speedily deserted ; and 
 this was held to account for Tristram's dishke 
 of women and for the roughness of his manner 
 towards them, as to which many anecdotes 
 were current. 
 
 ' If you want to see my pictures,' he said 
 once, knitting his shaggy brows and glaring at 
 a great lady who had sailed into his studio, 
 'you can go to the private view at the Aca- 
 demy ; if you want to buy them, you can com-
 
 108 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 miinicate with me by letter ; but if you only 
 want to talk, I must ask you to repeat your 
 visit some day Avhen there is no light and 
 when I can't work.' 
 
 Yet there were a few ladies — the heroine of 
 this story, amongst others — whom he did not 
 hate. He admitted that good women, though 
 rare, were to be met witli occasionally ; good 
 men he believed to be, upon the whole (and if 
 you did not fix your standard too high), more 
 common than bad ones. What he could not 
 and would not admit was the existence of a 
 single capable art-critic. For many years the 
 critics had ignored or laughed at him ; they 
 had caused him an amount of sufferini]^ which 
 would have astonished them very much had 
 they known of it, and he Avas quite unable to 
 forgive them now that they lauded him to the 
 skies. It was against tlie critics that Hope 
 used to hear him thundering in the daysAvhen 
 her father used to take her to Tristram's 
 studio. He Avould not even have tlieir praise, 
 which he averred to be as stupid as their 
 blame. One of them, and one only, had had
 
 TRISTKAM. E.A. 109 
 
 the luck to win a good word from liiiii by 
 declaring that it was 'impossible to jndge Mr. 
 Tristram's works by any of the received canons 
 of Art; 
 
 ' Here,' cried Tristram, when he read the 
 above passage, ' is a fellow who deserves to be 
 better employed ! He has found out that there 
 are forest trees which his little arms can't span 
 nor his puny strengtli cut down, and in a 
 moment of honesty he actually says so! There 
 is hope for that man.' And he incontinently 
 asked the critic to dinner, but was disappointed 
 with him on closer acquaintance, finding liim 
 less humble than might have been anticipated. 
 
 Humihty was a virtue which Tristram felt 
 to be more becoming in others than in himself. 
 He could not help knowing that he was a 
 great man ; it was a pity that he could not 
 help the littlenesses from which even great 
 men are not always exempt. Confident in his 
 own genius, but so sensitive to a breatli of 
 censure that the reading of the newspapers 
 at certain seasons of the year was a daily 
 penance to liim. lie made himself miserable
 
 J 10 A BACHELORS BLUXDEll 
 
 over attacks at which other artists would have 
 been content to smile, and it was always in 
 the power of the merest criticaster to goad 
 him into a fury. 
 
 However, not many people attached him 
 after his reputation was once made ; and it 
 must be said for him that his w^ath, even 
 against the critics, did not go beyond words. 
 Had one of them been reduced to poverty and 
 come to bee: for his assistance, it is certain 
 that five pounds would have found their way 
 out of Tristram's pocket into his before he had 
 been narrating his woes for five minutes. Per- 
 sons in need of five pounds, and of greater as 
 well as less sums, frequently visited Tristram, 
 got what they wanted, and, as the lamentable 
 practice of such persons is, returned a second 
 and a third time. ' The greatest painter of the 
 century,' as they were too apt to denominate 
 him in their gratitude, opened his hands to 
 them without stint and without putting many 
 questions. He had known what it was to be 
 poor and hungry, and had no desire that others 
 should experience those sad sensations, if he
 
 TKISTEAM, K.A. Ill 
 
 could help it. True, lie liad never begged — 
 would probably liave starved rather than beg 
 — but that was because he happened to re- 
 spect himself. He did not expect everybody 
 to possess self-respect or demand too much of 
 poor human nature. Half child, half philo- 
 sopher, he scattered abroad the money of 
 which he now had far more than he required, 
 only too glad that it should be picked up by 
 those who cared more about it than he did. 
 
 One Xovember morning; he was in his 
 studio, dashing off a study for a picture which 
 afterwards became celebrated — the sale of the 
 Eoman Empire by the Prastorians to Didius 
 Juhanus — when someone was announced whose 
 business was not of tliat simple kind which is 
 disposed of by the careless gift of a handful 
 of guineas. Tristram, who had not seen 
 Hope since her father's death, and wlio was 
 far from suspecting what had brought her to 
 his house, dropped his brushes and hurried 
 towards the door to meet her. 
 
 ' Ah, my dear ^liss Hope ! ' he exclaimed, 
 taking both her hands, 'I don't know whether
 
 112 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 I am most glad to see you or sad to see you 
 alone. Your dear father Avas a kind friend to 
 me — I think he was kind to everybody. Only 
 he was always so quiet in his ways that 
 perhaps we none of us knew how much we 
 cared for him till we heard that he was gone.' 
 
 Tristram was not a reticent man. It would 
 never have occurred to him to pass over his 
 old friend's death without allusion, or to 
 express his sympathy with the orphan by 
 silence and mournful looks, which is the more 
 common method. He may have been wanting 
 in delicacy ; but Hope, at any rate, did not 
 think so. His simple words went straight to 
 her heart and brought the tears into her 
 eyes. 
 
 ' You really knew him,' she said ; ' there 
 are so few people who did.' 
 
 So they sat down together and talked 
 about bygone days, and Hope was able to 
 speak more freely of her loss than she had 
 as yet spoken to anyone. ' But I ought 
 not to interrupt you like this, she said at 
 last.
 
 113 
 
 ' You don't interrupt me,' answered Tris- 
 tram, ' or rather I like being interrupted. 
 But I can 20 on with mv work if it will make 
 you more comfortable.' And he picked up 
 liis pallet and brushes again. ' What are 
 you doing in London ? Are your uncle and 
 aunt up ? ' he asked presently. 
 
 ' Xo,' answered Hope, ' I am hving by my- 
 self — at least, I am living with an old nurse 
 of mine — and I called to-day to have a serious 
 consultation Avith you. You know that I have 
 lost all my money ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, I heard. It made me very sorry.' 
 
 'You ought not to be sorry,' returned 
 Hope, smihng. ' Do you remember once say- 
 ing to me that it was a thousand pities that I 
 was not obhged to earn my own hving ? ' 
 
 Tristram stopped painting and looked at 
 her, drawdncr his brows together. 
 
 ' Hid I say that ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' Yes ; and the last time I saw you — at 
 that ball, you know — you told me that I 
 ought to be thankful for having a pursuit to 
 fall back upon.' 
 
 Vol. I. I
 
 114 A BAClIELOrvS ELUXDER 
 
 ' That I do remember ; and I stick to what 
 I said. Well?' 
 
 'Well, no-.y I have fallen back upon my 
 pursuit and I have to work for my living, and 
 I want you to advise me as to the best and 
 quickest way of doing so.' 
 
 When Tristram Avas annoyed or perplexed 
 he had a habit of combing his beard violently 
 with his long fingers. He began combing his 
 beard now. ' Am I to understand that you 
 are dependent upon your own exertions ? ' he 
 asked. 
 
 ' Not exactly that, because I have a small 
 income still. I should have thought it would 
 have been enough for me to live upon, but 
 they tell me it isn't ; and anyhow I should 
 prefer its being larger.' 
 
 ' But I heard that your uncle — that you 
 Avere to continue to live at Helston.' 
 
 ' Yes ; but I couldn't ! I know everybody 
 would say that it was " the proper arrange- 
 ment," and I know everybody will be horri- 
 fied at my wanting to be an artist and lead 
 an independent life ; but you are not like
 
 TRISTKAM, E.A. ]15 
 
 everybody. I thoiio'lit you would under- 
 stand.' 
 
 ' Oh, I understand well enough,' answered 
 Tristram, who was walking about the room, 
 and was still causing himself much unneces- 
 sary pain by dragging hairs out of his beard ; 
 'I understand as well as anybody what the 
 charms of freedom are ; but then, my dear 
 ^liss Hope, I am a great big man and I have 
 always had to look after myself, while you 
 are a young lady who has been brought up in 
 cotton-wool.' 
 
 ' A woman may be an artist,' said Hope. 
 
 ' Oh, certainly ; there is Eosa Bonheur, and 
 there was AngeHca Kaufmann.' 
 
 ' There hare also been plenty of others. 
 Please don't talk to me as if I were a silly 
 child. I don't aspire to be famous ; but surely 
 there is no great presumption in thinking that 
 I may learn to paint pictures which some 
 people will buy. Look at the rubbish that 
 they do buy ! ' 
 
 ' Would you be content to paint rubbish ? 
 I grant you that rubbish sells more readily 
 
 i2
 
 UG A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 than anytliing else ; but even that popular 
 article requires to be signed by a well-known 
 name.' 
 
 ' Everything must have a beginning.' 
 
 ' Oh, excuse me ; there are many things 
 which had much better not be begun.' He 
 paused abruptly in his walk and planted him- 
 self in front of his visitor, with his hand upon 
 his hips. ' Look here, Miss Hope,' said he ; 
 ' did you come to ask me for advice ? ' 
 
 ' No,' answered Hope, boldly, ' I didn't ; 
 because my mind is made up. I came to ask 
 you for information and help.' 
 
 ' Come,' said Tristram, with a laugh, ' I 
 am glad you take up that line ; it reheves me 
 from responsibility. And now, if you will 
 promise not to tell anybody, I'll let you into 
 a secret : I believe that if I had been in 
 your place, I should have done exactly what 
 you are doing.' 
 
 Hope's face, which had grown rather 
 grave, lighted up with smiles. 'Oh, tliank 
 you ! ' she exclaimed, gratefully. 
 
 ' Ah, but that doesn't alter the fact that
 
 TRISTR.UI, E.A. 117 
 
 you are doing a foolish thing. Xow. how am 
 I to help you P Do you want me to intro- 
 duce you to the picture-dealers? ' 
 
 ' Of course I don't ; how could you think 
 such a thing of me ? I want you to recom- 
 mend a course of study to me. I am utterly 
 ignorant about masters and schools and so 
 on. The only master I know of is old Mr. 
 Bluett, whom Papa used to have down to 
 Helston to give me lessons.' 
 
 'And who taught you long ago all that he 
 has it in him to teach.' 
 
 ' I daresay he did. Where ought I to go 
 now, then P ' 
 
 Tristram took a few more turns without 
 replying, and then said suddenly : ' You had 
 better come here, I think.' 
 
 'Here?' repeated Hope, doubting whether 
 she had heard rightly. 
 
 ' Yes, I think so ; it isn't as if you were 
 quite a beginner. If you were, I should hesi- 
 tate to undertake you, for I have very Httle 
 patience and no experience as a teacher ; but, 
 as it is, I believe I can push you on more
 
 118 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 rapidly than you could be pushed on in a 
 School of Art. No doubt you would learn 
 something there ; but the process is a slow 
 one, and iny object is ' 
 
 ' But, Mr. Tristram,' interrupted Hope, 
 ' I must not take up your time in that way. 
 It is very good and kind of you to think of it ; 
 but I could not accept so much.' 
 
 ' I never met such an obstinate young lady 
 as you are ; you won't accept anything from 
 anybody ! Do you suppose I am going to let 
 you interfere with my work, pray? What 
 you are to do is to watch me in tlie first 
 place, and to work in a corner by yourself 
 in the second. Every now and then I shall 
 take a look at you, and tell you where you are 
 going wrong. What I was saying when you 
 interrupted me was that my object is to be able 
 to let you know as soon as possible whether 
 there is any use in your persevering. Mind 
 you, it isn't worth your while to paint what 
 you call rubbish. You sacrifice a great deal 
 in taking up Art as a profession. You lose 
 sight of your friends, you drop out of society.
 
 119 
 
 you are called eccentric, and you miss oppor- 
 tunities Avhicli — which — in short, you leave 
 your own class. If you have any chance of 
 making a name for yourself, well and good. 
 But you must not pay such a long price 
 merely for the satisfaction of pocketing 
 twenty or thirty guineas occasionally.' 
 
 ' You forget the freedom,' remarked Hope, 
 smiling. 
 
 ' Oh, freedom I — that's a relative term. 
 After all, what do you Avant witli freedom ? — 
 and who is really free to do as he hkes ? 
 Certainly you are not. AVhy you can't even 
 come here to study under a grey-beard like 
 me, unless you bring some sort of an old 
 woman with vou. I have an ased house- 
 keeper somewhere about the establishment 
 who mio'ht do. Or could vou o-et vour ex- 
 nurse to look after you ? ' 
 
 ' I will ask her,' answered Hope, to whom 
 this aspect of the case had not yet presented 
 itself, and w^ho began to realise the difficulties 
 of independent existence. ' But I am not sure 
 that she can spare the time.'
 
 120 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 Mills, liowever, when informed of the ser- 
 vice required of her declared tliat all her time 
 was at her young mistress' disposal, and that 
 her first-floor lodgers must not expect to have 
 their landlady at their beck and call from 
 morning till night. It w^as bad enough, she 
 said, that they should be on the first floor at 
 all, while their betters were sent up to poky 
 little rooms over their heads ; but if they 
 began to give themselves airs, why, the 
 sooner they moved elsewhere the better. 
 
 As they had never given themselves airs 
 this was a little hard upon them ; but Mills 
 was not pleased with what she considered 
 Hope's escapade, and, being vexed at things 
 generally, had to find a scapegoat somewhere.
 
 121 
 
 CHAPTER ^TI. 
 
 THE OPIXIOXS OF MRS. MILLS. 
 
 Injustice and misconception are rife in this 
 world, and very good people often judge 
 other good people with conspicuous lack of 
 charity. It is even pretended by some that 
 good people are more prone to err in this 
 way than bad ones ; but let that pass. 
 Certain it is that at this time the worthy 
 and faithful Mills formed an exceedingly low 
 opinion of ]\ir. Montague Lefroy. Miss Hope, 
 poor dear, might think it a fine thing to try 
 and earn her own daily bread ; it was natural 
 that she should think so, bless her innocence I 
 But what would her poor papa have said if 
 he could have seen her tramping through the 
 streets in all weathers on her way to the 
 house of a common artist, who was not over 
 and above civil to her when she crot there,
 
 122 A BACHELORS BLUXDER 
 
 and didn't seem to know his proper place at 
 all ! And as for that old uncle of hers, who 
 Avas living in what ought to have been her 
 home, and who should have known a great 
 deal better than to permit such goings-on. 
 Mills became so angry when she thought of 
 his behaviour that she was more than once 
 driven to exclaim ' Drat him ! ' aloud. How- 
 ever, she only did this in the solitude of her 
 own room. Mills knew her place, if Mr. 
 Tristram did not know his. She mi<2flit have 
 her own notions of what was riodit as betwixt 
 relations, of what was due from the younger 
 branch of a family to the elder, likewise of 
 what was commonly decent ; but far be it 
 from her to utter them ! She was well aware 
 that it was not for her to make remarks about 
 her superiors, and that there might be no 
 mistake as to her submissive attitude, she 
 took care to say as much to Hope every 
 morning of her life. 
 
 But neither with her lips nor in her heart 
 did she murmur at the task imposed upon 
 her of spending many a weary hour in the
 
 THE OPIXIOXS OF MILLS 123 
 
 studio of the common artist above mentioued. 
 She did not like it ; she would have preferred 
 to be keeping an eye upon her servants at 
 home ; but on the other hand she was proud 
 of acting as ]\Iiss Hope's protector, and, ha\ing 
 an unfaihng supply of socks and stockings to 
 darn, argued philosophically that she might 
 almost as well be darning them in one place 
 as in another. 
 
 Tristram, who was a good deal amused 
 by her determined silence and by the grim 
 impassiveness of her demeanour, found her, 
 one day, gazing at a picture which he had 
 just finished and asked her what slie thought 
 of it. 
 
 ' If you please, sir, I'm no judge.' the old 
 woman said. 
 
 ' That is a very poor reason to give for 
 not pronouncing a judgment. Come, let us 
 hear your opinion.' 
 
 ' Well, sir, if I'm to say what I think,' 
 replied MiUs, who perhaps was not sorry to 
 say what she thought, ' I prefer Miss Hope's 
 pictures to yours.'
 
 124 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 ' It would be a very good thing for Miss 
 Hope if lialf-a-dozen people whom I could 
 narae agreed with you and had the courage 
 to say so. Personally, I feel bound to give 
 myself the preference. I think, if joii will 
 make a careful comparison, you will see that 
 I have a rather bolder style.' 
 
 ' Maybe you have, sir, but it's too splashy 
 for my taste,' responded Mills briefly. 
 
 ' Mrs. Mills,' said Tristram, ' you ought to 
 have been an art-critic. You have laid your 
 finger upon my chief defect, and I daresay it 
 will astonish you to hear that that is the very 
 thinc^ for which I am most admired. Let me 
 tell you, however, that there is no other artist 
 in England who could make such splashes 
 as those.' 
 
 In this he spoke the simple truth, and he 
 mio^ht have added that there was no artist in 
 England less fitted to instruct a beginner. 
 Tristram's method was his own, and could 
 hardly be reduced to any set of rules for the 
 guidance of others. Yet he took great pains 
 with his pupil, and though he could not
 
 THE OPIXIOXS OF MILLS 125 
 
 impart to her the secret of his marvellous 
 dexterity, of the assured sweep of his brush, 
 and of his rapidity of workmansliip, he did 
 teach her something. 
 
 ' Correctness,' he told her, ' is all very 
 well, but it is not Art. Wliat you want to do 
 is to throw your soul into your vv'ork and 
 to force people to see with your eyes. 
 Unhappily that is not easy.' 
 
 Hope, who had never expected to find it 
 easy, was not discouraged by the very small 
 meed of praise which rewarded her exertions. 
 Tristram would stand with his hands behind 
 his back silently contemplating wliat she had 
 done, and when asked to point out faults, 
 would reply that there were none to speak of. 
 'You haven't got it yet, that's all,' he would 
 say, turning away. He did not explain what 
 he meant by ' it ; ' but Hope understood well 
 enough. 
 
 On one occasion she was privileged to 
 overhear an independent opinion of her per- 
 formances. As visitors often dropped in 
 during the day, and as Tristram did not think
 
 126 A BACHELOR'S BLUNDER 
 
 it desirable that they should be aware of Miss 
 Lefroy's presence, he had made Hope set up 
 her easel in a small room adjoining the studio, 
 the door of which he usually slammed at the 
 first sound of approaching footsteps. One day, 
 however, he happened to push it to without 
 quite closing it, and thus Hope was enabled to 
 hear a voice (which, if she had known it, 
 belonged to a celebrated painter) expressing 
 unbounded admiration of 'The Sale of the 
 Eoman Empire.' Tristram responded some- 
 what gruffly — it has already been said that he 
 w^as a man wdioni it was difficult to praise to 
 his satisfaction — and after a time his friend, 
 desisting from eulogy, began to walk about the 
 studio, apparently examining one thing and 
 another. 
 
 ' This is fine, Tristram,' Hope heard him 
 say presently ; 'but it isn't altogether you^ 
 somehow. I never knew you w^ork up your 
 details so elaborately before.' 
 
 ' Glad you like it,' replied Tristram ; ' it's 
 by a friend of mine, a rising young artist, and 
 you can buy it cheap, if you choose.'
 
 THE orixioxs of mills 127 
 
 'Eeally?' said the other, who was well-to- 
 do, and who sometimes purchased the works of 
 rising artists, sometimes also disposing of them 
 at a legitimate profit when the said artists had 
 ]-isen. ' What does he want for it ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, fifty guineas now. Xext year it may 
 ])e a different story ; but we mustn't be too 
 greedy at starting.' 
 
 The stranger laughed. ' I don't think 111 
 buy it,' he said. ' If I might offer your young 
 friend a word of advice, it would be to make 
 the most he can of his own powers and not 
 try to imitate the inimitable. He has ruined 
 his picture by putting in those bold touches, 
 which he no doubt takes for a reproduction 
 of your style. I was almost taken in for a 
 moment, but a little closer inspection reveals 
 the sham. Don't let the poor young man 
 attempt that kind of thing again : it isn't to 
 be done. There is only one Tristram in the 
 world.' 
 
 'But there are a great many asses,' re- 
 turned the ungrateful Tristram. ' Every one 
 of those bold touches that you mention was
 
 128 A BACIIELOF.S BLUNDER 
 
 put in by this unworthy hand. Where are 
 you now, my good friend ? ' 
 
 ' It appears to me that I am in the house 
 of a man who has been trying to pahn oil 
 a fraud upon me,' rephed the other good- 
 humouredly. ' Isn't it rather doubtful morahty 
 to get a young friend to paint a picture, touch 
 it up yourself, and then ask fifty guineas 
 for it ? ' 
 
 ' That's right ; grumble now ! Why, man, 
 have you no sense of shame ? For that paltry 
 sum I offer you a work which you yourself 
 pronounced very fine so long as you thought 
 that it was by me. When you found that it 
 was neither by me nor by anybody else whom 
 you had ever heard of you began to sneer at 
 it ; and finally, when you are told that I added 
 a stroke to it liere and there, you talk about 
 doubtful morality ! Good Lord ! What a 
 world of ignorance and humbug we live in ! 
 Blindfold a man, and it is as much as he can 
 do to distinguish between port and claret ; 
 give him a bottle of your best Chateau Mar- 
 gaux after dinner, and he will go into ecstasies
 
 THE onxroxs of mills 129 
 
 over it — only if you tell liim it is Mecioc, 
 he will call it sour. Doubtful morality indeed ! 
 And what sort of morality do you call it, pray, 
 to praise what you don't really like and run 
 down wliat you are afraid to own that you 
 admire ? Of all kinds of dishonesty, I do 
 think dishonest criticism is the most con- 
 temptible, because it is so perfectly safe. 
 Hang me if I believe that such a thing as 
 an honest critic exists I ' 
 
 He was still fuming after his friend had 
 gone away and when Hope, emei'ging from 
 her ambush, confessed that she had been 
 playing the eavesdropper. 
 
 ' Well,' said he, ' I am not sorry that you 
 should have heard what you did. It will show 
 you what Art is as a profession, and the dog"s 
 life that we are made to lead sometimes for 
 years. By fools too ; that's the worst of it. 
 The man who has just gone away does at 
 least know something about his trade, and if 
 he can be so Winded by prejudice as to talk 
 the nonsense that he did a few minutes aero 
 what can j-ou expect from a fello\v wlio only 
 
 Vol. I. K
 
 130 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 writes for the ncAvspapers and proljably could 
 not paint a cow that anybody would know 
 from a pig, except by the horns ? ' 
 
 ' But he did think the picture good at 
 first,' observed Hope, alluding to the artist, 
 not to the critic. 
 
 ' Did he ? Goodness knows what lie 
 thought ; evidently he liimself didn't. He 
 said it was " line." It isn't line ; lie could 
 hardly have said anything more absurd. And 
 he couldn't recognise my touch either when 
 he saw it. Ah, well ! in future, wlien I want 
 a candid judgment on my work, I shall appl}' 
 to Mrs. Mills. Yours is an uncorrupted mind, 
 Mrs. Mills ; you don't deceive either yourself 
 or others.' 
 
 ' I trust not, sir,' replied Mills. ' And, if 
 you please. Miss Hope, it's past one o'clock.' 
 
 Hope, as she walked away, was by no means 
 so displeased with her unknoAvn critic as Tris- 
 tram had been. Secretly she was inclined to 
 agree with him that the picture had been spoilt 
 by those bold touches which she had not added 
 to it. Tristram had spoken of fifty guineas, too,
 
 TJIE OPIXIO>'S OF XILLS 131 
 
 and had said that next year the price might be 
 higher. That sounded promising. She ]iad 
 not ahogether reaUsed the meaning^ of his 
 friend's hiiigh, and she was already beginning 
 to realise the value of fifty guineas. That is 
 a lesson quickly learnt by such as attempt to 
 live upon 250/. a year, and Hope was resolved 
 that her annual expenditure should not exceed 
 that modest figure. She had gone into the 
 matter in a thoroughly businesslike spirit, and 
 after setting aside fifty pounds a year for dress 
 (for she could not conceive that any human 
 being could be decently clothed upon less) had 
 found that her rent and household bills aver- 
 aged four pounds a week. Fifty-two multi- 
 plied by four gave two hundred and eight, or 
 an annual deficit of eight pounds, which was 
 a pity ; but by spending a few weeks at Helston 
 during the summer some further retrenchment 
 Avould doubtless be achieved. Obviously, 
 however, the budget could not be framed so 
 as to include any estimate for cab-hire ; and 
 til us Miss Lefroy, accompanied by Mills, had 
 to walk across Hyde Park twice every day.
 
 .|:jf> A BACHELORS BLUiNDER 
 
 Hyde Park on a damp November afternoon 
 is not tlie gayest place in the world, nor are 
 its footpaths always found pleasant walking 
 by those foolish pedestrians who will insist 
 upon wearing patent-leather boots in London, 
 no matter Avhat the season of the year may 
 be. But Avhen one has the credit of one's 
 battalion to keep up in the matter of dress 
 one must not mind small discomforts, and tha 
 dapper young gentleman who stepped out of 
 the mist to meet Hope and her protectress as 
 they hurried homewards, had turned up his 
 trousers and was picking his Avay along as 
 cheerfully as could be expected under the 
 muddy circumstances. But when he recog- 
 nised the figure in deep mourning before him 
 his clieerfulness increased into joy; he pitched 
 away liis cigarette, took off liis hat, and ex- 
 claimed : ' Good gracious ! Miss Lefroy — how 
 delighted I am ! I didn't know you were in 
 London.' 
 
 Hope bowed, colouring slightly, and for 
 the first time in her life feeling sliy ; and the 
 young man added j with a ratlier crestfalbn
 
 THE OPiyiOXS OF MILLS 133 
 
 air : ' You liave forgotten all about me, I see. 
 If there is a thiiifr that fills me with grief and 
 humiliation, it is having to tell people who I 
 am ; but there's no help for it, evidently, this 
 time. My name is Cunningham. Xow, don't 
 say you never heard it before.' 
 
 There was not much danger of her saying 
 that ; nor had she ever forgotten the fascinat- 
 ing partner with whom she had once spent a 
 happy evening and against whom she had been 
 warned on the following day. Only he seemed 
 to her to belong to some previous state of 
 existence ; liis name was written in a con- 
 cluded chapter ; the change in her circum- 
 stances, she thought, had opened an impass- 
 able <iulf between her and the world to which 
 she belonged by birtli ; and this — or some 
 other reason which she did not specify to her- 
 self — made her feel embarrassed ; so that she 
 could find nothing to say, except : ' Oh, I re- 
 member you quite well, Captain Cunningham.' 
 
 ' Are you going to be any time in London ? ' 
 he asked. ' Where are you staying ? May I 
 call upon you ? '
 
 134 A BACHELOES BLUNDER 
 
 'Well, no ; I am afraid you can't do tliat,' 
 answered Hope, recovering her self-possession, 
 ' because I am living all by myself.' 
 
 Then, as he looked much astonished, slie 
 explained : ' That is, I am hving with my old 
 nurse. I don't know whetlier — perhaps you 
 have heard of my — my — misfortunes.' 
 
 Tlie young man, assuming a decently lugu- 
 brious expression of countenance, replied that 
 he had, adding something about ' awfully 
 sorry — very shocking,' — and so lapsing into 
 unintelligible murmurings. 
 
 ' I am studying Art,' Hope continued ; ' I 
 hope to be able to support myself in tliat way 
 some day or other.' 
 
 She was moving on now and Cunningham 
 was walking beside her. Mills having dropped 
 into the background. 
 
 ' Support yourself ? ' repeated tlie young 
 man in a tone of astonishment amounting 
 almost to stupefaction. ' T — I — never heard of 
 such a tiling ! ' 
 
 ' It is my own choice,' said Hope, smiling 
 at liis consternation and guessing what Iiis
 
 THE onxioxs of mills lOo 
 
 thoughts were. ' My uncle and aunt Avanted 
 me to stay on with them at Helston ; but I did 
 not wish to do that. I felt that I must earn 
 my OAvn living. Don't you understand ? ' she 
 asked with a toiicli of impatience; for the 
 young fellow Avas staring at lier in undisguised 
 surprise. 
 
 ' Oh, yes,' he answered sloAvly, • I under- 
 stand — only I don't sympathise. It is the sort 
 of thins^ that vou would be sure to do, and 
 I admire you for it. All the more because 
 it is the sort of thing that I should be sure 
 not to do.' 
 
 ' AVould you not rather feel that you were 
 living by the work of your own liands, than 
 upon an allowance made you by an uncle ? ' 
 
 • I shouldn't advise any uncle of mine to 
 offer me an allowance unless he meant his offer 
 to be jumped at. Xo, Miss Lefroy ; it is my 
 fixed principle never to do anything for myself 
 so long as I can get somebody else to do it 
 for me.' 
 
 After making this scandalous confession, of 
 which he did not appear to be in the least
 
 130 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 ashamed, Captain Ciinningliam walked on in 
 silence for a few seconds. ' I should like 
 awfully to see your pictures,' he remarked 
 presently. ' Couldn't I manage to get a look 
 at them somehow ? ' 
 
 'Not just at present,' answered Hope, 
 sedately. ' When I have painted a sufficient 
 number, I shall exhibit them in a gallery in 
 Bond Street, and you will be admitted witli 
 the rest of the public, upon payment of a 
 shilling. But it seems possible that you may 
 have to wait a year or two.' 
 
 ' And am I to wait a year or two before I 
 see you again ? ' 
 
 This was a question to whicli Hope was 
 not prepared to give a reply ; but it struck 
 her all of a sudden that the present intervicAV 
 had lasted lons^ enou^^h ; so she came to a 
 standstill, and said : ' I don't know. At any 
 rate, I will not take you farther out of your 
 way now.' 
 
 Captain Cunningham looked very unwilling 
 to accept his dismissal. 
 
 ' Of course, if you tell me to go, I must go,'
 
 THE OPIXIOXS OF MILLS 137 
 
 he said, throwing a reproachful expression 
 into those dark bkie eyes of his ; ' but, ^liss 
 Lefroy, do you never go any^^here wliere — 
 where — your friends are hkely to meet you ? ' 
 
 ' Xever.' 
 
 ' I suppose you go home sometimes — to 
 your uncle's, I mean ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, yes ; I shall be going do^rn there at 
 Christmas.' 
 
 ' Come, that's better ! ' cried the young 
 man, cheerfully. ' I'll get them to ask me 
 down too.' And after shaking hands with 
 somewhat unnecessary warmth he departed. 
 
 As soon as he was out of hearinjz. Mills, 
 whose face was bright ^vitli pleasure and ex- 
 citement, and who during the above colloquy 
 had found time to construct a complete ro- 
 mance, exclaimed: 'My dear, what a beau- 
 tiful young gentleman ! ' 
 
 Hope laughed. ' He is a nice sort of boy,' 
 she said ; ' I don't think he is particularly 
 beautiful.' 
 
 Xevertheless, she did think so, and indeed 
 could jiardlv have thouorht anvthinf]^ else.
 
 138 A BACHELORS BLUXDKR 
 
 Also she had a suspicion tliat lie admired her 
 very much, and liis admiration was not al- 
 together disagreeable to her. Is there any 
 woman living to whom the admiration of a 
 beautiful young gentleman would be disa- 
 greeable ? Hope was very far from setting 
 possibilities before herself in the uncompro- 
 mising fashion adopted by Mills ; but more 
 tlian once in the course of the next few days 
 she found herself wondering wdien and where 
 she would next meet Captain Cunningham, 
 and by what means he proposed to get himself 
 invited to Helston Abbey. 
 
 It was not by sucli mere details that 
 Captain Cunningham was likely to be baffled. 
 His acquaintance Avith Mr. Lefroy and Lady 
 Jane was only a shght one, it was true ; but 
 if he did not know tliem very well, he knew 
 numbers of people with whom they were 
 intimate, and his experience had taught him 
 that an invitation to a country liouse may 
 easily be obtained in many ways by a resolute 
 man. He had, however, a conscience ; which 
 conscience told him that lie ou2[ht not to seek
 
 THE OPIXIOXS OF MILLS 139 
 
 for this particular invitation. Tlie fact that 
 he had fallen profoundly in love Avith Hope 
 Lefroy (he had been profoundly in love once 
 or twice before) did not, he felt, justify him 
 in pursumg her. He had no money worth 
 mentioning, and it appeared that she was 
 now in the same undesirable predicament. 
 Conscience, therefore — or was it prudence, 
 perhaps P — waved him imperatively away from 
 her. In this strait he followed the dictates of 
 his nature and confided his trouble t(j a 
 certain lady friend of his, wliose advice was 
 prompt and unhesitating : 
 
 ' You will please not to make a fool of 
 yourself,' this worldly-wise lady said ; * and, 
 as I can't trust you out of my sight, I will 
 take very good care that you spend 3'our 
 Christmas with us.' 
 
 It is thus that worldly-wise ladies often 
 succeed in preparing the way for all kinds of 
 catastrophes.
 
 140 A ]]ACIIELORS BLUNDER 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 ME. HERBERT OX MARRIAGE. 
 
 Man is born to labour and sorrow, as the 
 sparks fly upward. The majority of us have 
 so many serious troubles and anxieties that 
 we accept the minor miseries of suppressed 
 gout, unpaid bills, tedious acquaintances, 
 corns and the like, as incidental to our mortal 
 lot, and have neither time nor disposition to 
 grumble at them. But when a man has 
 everything in the world to make him happy ; 
 when he is healthy and wealthy, and has a 
 modest conviction that he is also wise ; when 
 his eldest dauiihter is about to be married to 
 an altogetlier unexceptionable viscount ; when 
 his yearly bills are all made beautiful by 
 receipt- stamps, and when he has not so much 
 as a corn to complain of, it is but natural that
 
 HERBERT OX MARRIAGE 141 
 
 he should resent very deeply any trifling 
 worry that may intrude upon liis bliss, and 
 think it hard that he should be afflicted with 
 a wrons^-headed niece. 
 
 This is why ^Ir. Lefroy, after Avelcoming 
 Hope back to Helston with appropriate 
 Christmas greetings, hastened to promote the 
 merriment of the season by adding empliati- 
 cally : 'And now I do trust that we luive 
 heard the last of this nonsense ! ' 
 
 Hope wished to know what nonsense. 
 
 ' Why this picture-painting and starving 
 in frowsy London lodgings.' 
 
 ' Indeed they are not frowsy,' said Hope. 
 
 ' Very well, they are not froAvsy ; but they 
 are lodgings and you starved in them. Don't 
 say you didn't, because I know better. You 
 have actually paid back to my bankers the 
 wretched little sum I gave you before you 
 left us. Xow I must say I think that is 
 rather too bad ! ' 
 
 ' Please don't be angry, Uncle Montague ; 
 it is only that I do want to live upon my own 
 resources, if I can.'
 
 142 A bachelor's blunder 
 
 ' M}^ dear, I am not the least angry ; but I 
 am bothered, and I can't for the life of me 
 see why yon slionld wish to bother me in this 
 way. Do yon think it is pleasant to be asked 
 by every single person who comes to the 
 house Avhat my niece is doing, and to be 
 obliged to reply : "Oh, she is up in London, 
 trying to keep body and soul together by 
 painting pictures ? " I put it to you as a 
 sensible girl — do you think it is pleasant? ' 
 
 ' Is that the answer that you make. Uncle 
 Montague ? ' 
 
 ' Xo ; but it's what they understand. And 
 then they say " Poor girl ! " and look pensive. 
 You must admit that this is a little trying to 
 a well-meaning uncle, who only asks to be 
 allowed to do his duty.' 
 
 ' There is a well-meaning niece in the case 
 who wants to be allowed to do hers,' observed 
 Hope. 
 
 She was not going to give in ; but slie 
 perceived that there were breakers ahead, 
 and it was fortunate for her that her aunt 
 and cousins were just now fully occupied
 
 HEEBERT OX MARrJAGE 14:1 
 
 with Alice's engagement and approaching 
 marriage t(.) Lord Middleborough. The bride- 
 elect, to ^vliose lot had fallen the rare privi- 
 lege of pleasing her family and consulting her 
 own inchnations at one and the same time, 
 was in an excusable condition of o-lee, and 
 could hardly be expected to interest herself 
 much at such a moment in her cousin's artis- 
 tic career, which, indeed, neither she nor her 
 sister had ever taken quite seriously. When, 
 in the midst of a grave discussion as to the 
 colours to be worn by the l^ridesmaids at 
 the coming nuptials, Alice interrupted herself 
 to remark : ' Of course you ^^-ill come with 
 us to London in February, Hope ? ' and when 
 Hope replied that she intended to return 
 to London long before the date mentioned. 
 both the girls laughed, assuring her that she 
 could not do such a thing as that. Tiie 
 doctor having prescribed a total change of 
 surroundings for her, there had been a reason 
 to give for her leaving Helston in the au- 
 tumn ; but slie was well again now, and 
 it would never do for her to be livina^ in
 
 144 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 Henrietta Street while her relations were in 
 Eaton Square. People would think it so 
 
 (Xld. 
 
 * Does it matter what people think ? ' Hope 
 asked. 
 
 To which absurd question her cousins re- 
 plied wonderingly : ' Of course it does, dear — 
 it's the one thing that does matter.' 
 
 The proposition was to them so self-evi- 
 dent that they were unable to understand how 
 so talented a girl as Hope could fail to grasp 
 it ; while she, on her side, found it simply in- 
 credible that any human being should shape 
 the course of his or her life in submission to 
 tlie prejudices of a few careless gossips. The 
 best plan was to say no more about it ; and 
 luckily there were many other subjects to be 
 talked about. 
 
 . A considerable number of visitors were 
 already in the house, and more were ex- 
 pected. Lord Middleborougli, an amiable, 
 unremarkable young man, with large posses- 
 sions, arrived on Christmas Eve, as did also 
 various members of the Lefroy clan, Avho had
 
 HERBERT OX :dARRIAGE 145 
 
 been wont to consider Helston a dullish house 
 in bygone days, and who appeared to be 
 pleased with the new regime ; but there was 
 one person who did not come, and Hope 
 could not help wondering why he didn't. She 
 mentioned casually to Gertrude that she had 
 met Captain Cunningham one day in London, 
 and asked A\'hether they had heard anything 
 of him lately. The reply that she received 
 was not wholly satisfoctory to her. 
 
 ' Oh, no,' Gertrude answered ; ' we never 
 hear of him when we are in the country, 
 except sometimes from Dick Herbert, who is 
 rather a friend of liis. People said at one 
 time that he was going to marry Dick's sister, 
 who is an heiress. Captain Cunningham is 
 the kind of man who is sure to marry an 
 heiress some day; but I suppose he will put 
 it off as loner as he can.' 
 
 ' Things are made very liard for the poor 
 heiresses,' Hope remarked. ' I am glad I am 
 not one any longer.' 
 
 ' Things are much more often made hard 
 for those who are not heiresses,' rejoined 
 
 Vol. I. L
 
 146 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 Gertrude ; and there seemed to be somctliing 
 to be said in support of that view. 
 
 But Hope trusted that things were not 
 going to be made hard for her just yet. Her 
 uncle, after his first httle querulous outburst, 
 left her in peace ; and her aunt, as she fondly 
 imagined, was too busy with her guests and 
 future son-in-law to think about anybody or 
 anything else. Lady Jane, however, was 
 quite capable of thinking about a good many 
 things shnultaneously. She had received a 
 hint from her husband and was by no means 
 so indifferent as she appeared to be. 
 
 'Well,' she said rather sharply to the 
 doctor, who was invited to dinner on Christ- 
 mas Hay, ' your prescription lias had no 
 effect.' 
 
 ' Eeally, my dear lady,' replied tlie man 
 of medicine blandly, ' I don't think you ought 
 to say that. Miss Lefroy is looking quite 
 well and strong again.' 
 
 ' I don't speak of her bodily health. She 
 is not cured of her complaint ; and you 
 promised that she should be.'
 
 IIERDEKT OX MAEKIAGE 147 
 
 ' Oh, pardon me, I made no promise?. 
 And, if you remember, a year was the period 
 of absence which was found successful in the 
 case that I cited to you.' 
 
 ' It is utterly and absolutely impossible for 
 me to send my niece away for a year,' re- 
 turned Lady Jane pettishly. 
 
 ' Then neither my prescription nor I must 
 be blamed if the patient has a relapse. 
 Seriously, I don't see how you can have 
 expected her to become discouraged so soon. 
 A month or two at sea may be enough to cure 
 a lad of wishing to be a sailor ; but a montli 
 or two in comfortable quarters in London is 
 hardly enough to cure a young lady of aspir- 
 ing to be an artist. You should have given 
 her time to fail.' 
 
 ' But I am not sure that she would have 
 failed. Besides, a girl's time is really too 
 valuable to be wasted in that way. Xo ; I 
 am much obhged to you, but I shall try 
 another prescription now.' 
 
 The doctor smiled. He guessed what the 
 prescription would be, and was not concerned 
 
 l2
 
 ].18 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 to dispute its efficacy. Doubtless it would be 
 better for the poor girl to marry tlian to fail 
 or succeed in her effort to" support herself. 
 The only question was whether she would 
 consent to accept a husband of her aunt's 
 choosing. 
 
 Lady Jane Avrote out her prescription and 
 sent it off the very next morning. It ran as 
 follows ; — 
 
 'My dear Dick, — I w^ish you would run 
 ^down here for a few days. I say a few days, 
 Ijecause I am afraid you will not be persuaded 
 to remain longer ; but I need not tell you how 
 pleased we shall be if you care to stay on. 
 You can hunt three times a week easily from 
 here, and Mr. Lefroy wishes me to add that 
 he has stabling for as many horses as you like 
 to bring. Hope is with us now, and that is 
 one reason why I want you to come : because 
 you seem better able than anyone else to 
 amuse her and draw away her thoughts from 
 her father's death, which she has not yet got 
 over, I fear. I took your advice and let her
 
 IIEKBEKT OX MARRIAGE 140 
 
 go up to London by herself for some time ; 
 but it was a dangerous experiment and I don't 
 think it has succeeded very well. Do let me 
 have a line to say that you will come, and 
 ' Believe me, 
 ' Always affectionately yours, 
 
 'Jaxe Lefroy.' 
 
 In due course of time Mr. Herbert tele- 
 graphed ' All right ; ' and Lady Jane, who had 
 not been quite sure that her invitation would 
 be accepted, considered this somewhat uncere- 
 monious reply as a good omen. Perhaps it 
 would be all right, she tliought ; after all, why 
 should it not be ? A glow of legitimate pride 
 came over her as she reflected upon the tri- 
 umph of capturing so confirmed a bachelor as 
 Dick Herbert. ' He certainly admired Hope 
 very much wlien he was here before,' she said 
 to herself, ' and I doubt whether he would 
 come back again if he did not mean something. 
 Oh, what a mercy it will be if he does ! ' 
 
 But the vexatious thing about this man 
 was tliat, althouizh he liad an estabhshed
 
 uo A bachelor's blunder 
 
 character for plain dealing and practised 
 plain speaking to an extent wliicli bordered 
 upon the offensive, it was not always as easy 
 as it ought to have been to discover exactly 
 what he meant. What, for instance, did he 
 mean by such a speech as this ? — 
 
 'I'm awfully glad that Alice is making 
 such a good match, and I congratulate you 
 with all my heart, you know; but at the same 
 time I wish you hadn't asked me to come 
 here until the business was over. It's enough 
 to give anybody the blues to see poor Middle- 
 borough in his present deplorable condition.' 
 
 This was about the only remark that he 
 addressed to Lady Jane on the evening of his 
 arrival ; and, having made it, lie walked away, 
 feimins^ not to hear her when she called out 
 to him to come back and explain himself. 
 To Hope, however, he deigned to unfold his 
 sentiments at somewhat greater lenerth. 
 
 'I do think,' he announced to her, 'that to 
 marry for love is about the most idiotic thing 
 that anybody can do.' 
 
 He sank down, as he spoke, upon the sofa
 
 HEKBERT OX MAREIAGE 151 
 
 at the end of the long drawing-room where 
 Hope was sitting alone, her hands lying idle 
 in her lap and her eyes fixed pensively upon 
 the betrothed couple, who had withdrawn 
 into a remote corner and were pretending to 
 play chess. She turned, with a look of sur- 
 prise, to her neighbour. 
 
 ' Why is it idiotic ? ' she asked. ' I should 
 have thought there couldn't be a better reason 
 for marrying.' 
 
 ' Oh, I've no doubt you would have thought 
 so,' answered Herbert, a trifle irritably ; ' at 
 your age one does think so. After one has 
 kept one's eyes open for a considerable num- 
 ber of vears one knows better. To bedn 
 with, it's such a one-sided business. Xearly 
 always it is the man who is in love, and if, by 
 any chance, it happens to be the woman, so 
 much the worse for her.' 
 
 Hope made no reply, but glanced signifi- 
 cantly at her cousin and Lord Middleborough 
 and smiled. 
 
 ' Oh, well,' resumed Herbert, ' I didn't say 
 always, I said nearly always. It may happen
 
 162 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 that both are in love ; but what then? What 
 is faUing in love ? It's a pleasant sort of 
 experience, taking it altogether, and of course 
 it becomes delightful if your love is returned, 
 or if you fancy that it is returned. But to 
 marry because you are in love is illogical. A 
 man who does that is very apt to wake up 
 some fine morning and find that he has 
 tied himself for life to a vixen or a fool 
 or a flirt.' 
 
 * What would you have people marry for, 
 then ? ' inquired Hope. ' For money ? ' 
 
 ' I have known people who liave done so 
 and haven't regretted it. At any rate, they 
 have got all that they expected, don't you see? 
 The great thing is to have a clear understand- 
 ing before you start, and if one of you, or both 
 of you, are in love that's an impossibility.' 
 
 ' I don't think I sliould care to have the 
 future put before me in that cut-and-dried 
 way,' said Hope. 'I would rather take my 
 chance of disappointment. If anyone offered 
 to tell me now exactly wliat prospect I have 
 of becoming an artist I should stop my ears.
 
 HERBERT OX MARRIAGE 153 
 
 Some day or other I must know the worst or 
 the best ; but I don't want to know yet.' 
 
 ' Your character seems to be the opposite 
 of mine,' remarked Herbert ; ' I hke to face 
 things.' 
 
 By-and-by he asked : ' What do your 
 masters say to you ? ' 
 
 'I have only one master, Mr. Tristram, 
 and he says very httle.' 
 
 ' Oh ; and what does your uncle say ? ' 
 
 ' Xothing encouraging. I am afraid I 
 shall have to fight another battle before I go 
 back to London.' 
 
 Herbert stretched out his long legs and 
 looked at his feet. ' I rather think,' said he, 
 deliberately, ' that you will get beaten.' 
 
 ' If you do think so, it is not very kind to 
 say so,' returned Hope, with a flash of anger 
 in her eyes. ' I have won one Ijattle ; wiiy 
 should I not win another ? ' 
 
 ' Only because in your particular case it is 
 easier to win one victory than tAvo. Why can't 
 you stay here till February, and then go up 
 with the others ? '
 
 154 A BACIIELORS BLUNDER 
 
 'You know why — and I did not expect 
 you to turn against me,' answered Hope, still 
 much incensed against her former supporter. 
 
 ' Yes,' said Herbert, with a sigh, ' I know. 
 But, all the same, I am bound to confess 
 that if I were your uncle I should not let 
 you leave Helston again. People are sure 
 to talk. In fact, they have begun talking 
 already.' 
 
 ' I thought you didn't care what people 
 said.^' 
 
 ' We all care really. We may pretend 
 that we don't ; but we do. Young Cunning- 
 ham told me the other day that he had met 
 you in Hyde Park and that you were living in 
 lodgings somewhere all by yourself, and he 
 wanted to know the meaning of it. I daresay 
 he has been asking everybody.' 
 
 ' I don't see why there need be any 
 mystery about the matter,' answered Hope ; 
 ' it isn't disgraceful.' She hesitated for a mo- 
 ment before adding : ' Do you know Captain 
 Cunningham well ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; about as well as one knows a man
 
 HEKBEKT OX MARRIAGE 155 
 
 with whom one has nothing much in common. 
 Why do you ask ? ' 
 
 He opened his eyes a hair's-breadth wider 
 than usual and fixed them upon his questioner, 
 who, to her annoyance, felt herself colouring 
 shcrhtly. 
 
 * I don't know,' she rephed. ' The girls 
 told me tliat he was a friend of yours, and I 
 wondered whether it could be true. As you 
 say, you and he are — are — not at all like one 
 another.' 
 
 ' He is a very pleasant sort of a fellow,' 
 said Herbert, briefly. He looked as if he 
 were going to add something, but apparently 
 thought better of it, and, having already 
 talked a ixreat deal more than he was wont to 
 do in one evening, relapsed into silence. 
 
 It is proverbial that silence is often 
 eloquent, and likewise that there are persons 
 who sometimes shine by their absence. If 
 Captain Cunningham had desired to be as 
 much in Miss Lefroy's thoughts as she was in 
 his own at this time, he could not have 
 adopted a wiser course than to deny himself a
 
 156 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 visit to Helston Abbey, nor could Fortune 
 have served him better than by sending 
 thither a friend of his who never spoke 
 ill of the absent, and who, when he could 
 not say much good of them, held his 
 tongue.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AX ALTEEXATIYE. 
 
 Helstox Abbey would accommodate some 
 thirty visitors or more, and indeed liad fre- 
 quently done so in former times. Under the 
 rule of its late owner, as has already been 
 said, the greater part of its bedrooms had 
 remained unoccupied from year's end to year's 
 end ; but now it was beginning: to recover its 
 ancient character for hospitahty. Not, of 
 course, that a renewal of the revels of a by- 
 gone generation, when guests were considered 
 to be shghting their liost if they displayed 
 anything like hurry in their departure, was 
 possible or desired. The present ]\Ir. Lefroy 
 and his wife had always been smart sort of 
 people, mixing in smart society, and their 
 hospitality was of the modern kind. The
 
 158 A BACHELORS BLUXDICll 
 
 friends wlio partook of their excellent dinners, 
 sliot their pheasants, and daneed in the 
 pictnre-gallery, which had been converted 
 into a ball-room, would have been bored, 
 perhaps, if they had been pressed to prolong 
 their visit beyond three days ; at any rate 
 they could not have yielded to pressure, 
 because they were always going on some- 
 where else. Arrivals and departures took 
 jilace every day ; strange faces wei-e forever 
 appearing and disappearing; husbands came 
 without their wives and wives without their 
 husbands, which seemed to Hope an odd thing, 
 and the general effect of it all was to her very 
 fatiguing and bewildering. 
 
 She asked her uncle once whether he did 
 not find it so ; but he said : 'Oh, no ; I'm 
 accustomed to it, you see, and it doesn't go 
 on all the year round. We can put up more 
 lodgers here than we could at Southcote, 
 so I daresay it will come to an end sooner. 
 Besides, I never bother myself If I don't 
 remember people's names I avoid calhng 
 them anything until I find out who they are.
 
 AX ALTERXATIVE lo9 
 
 and your aunt tells me if tliere is something 
 particular that I ought to say to them.' 
 
 Mr. Lefroy rather overstated tlie case 
 against himself. He had a pretty good 
 memory and generally managed to say the 
 right tiling to the right person, witliout being 
 prompted. If he did not put himself much 
 out of the way to entertain his guests, he was 
 always genial and pleasant, and welcomed 
 them as if he were glad to see them — and, for 
 that matter, so he was. He liked society ; he 
 liked talking at certain hours of the day ; 
 only it made very little difference to him 
 whether the person with whom he was con- 
 versing was called Peter or Paul ; nor did he, 
 as a rule, notice of what units the crowd 
 around his dinner-table miglit chance to be 
 composed. 
 
 One thing, however, lie did end by 
 observing, and that was that while others 
 came and went Dick Herbert remained 
 immovable. This discoveiy rather pleased 
 him ; for he knew very well that Dick 
 Herbert would not stay so long without a
 
 160 A BACHELORS BLUXDEU 
 
 reason, and it was easy to surmise what that 
 reason must be. It would indeed be a good 
 thing if Dick and Hope should take a fancy to 
 one another ; but Mr. Lefroy, who had seen a 
 great deal of the world and whose character 
 had a strong vein of good-humoured cynicism 
 in it, was aware that men frequently take 
 fancies to girls without going the extreme 
 length of proposing to them. Moreover, he 
 suspected that Hope would require to be very 
 decidedly in love with a man indeed before 
 she would consent to marry him. He had 
 the curiosity to watch the pair, and was 
 forced to the conclusion that, although they 
 w^ere constantly together and seemed to enjoy 
 each other's company, they w^ere not as yet 
 lovers. As to Dick one could not speak wdth 
 any certainty, because he was such an un- 
 demonstrative fellow ; but Hope had little 
 power of hiding her feelings, and her feeling 
 for this very worthy gentleman and large 
 landed proprietor was too evidently one of 
 friendship only. 
 
 ' Nothing will come of it,' Mr. Lefroy said
 
 AX ALTEE NATIVE 101 
 
 to himself, and sighed ; for it woukl liave been 
 most convenient in every way if something 
 could have been made to come of it. 
 
 Lady Jane was far from sharing his de- 
 spondent view. She was too busy to pay 
 attention to details ; the fact that Dick 
 Herbert had stayed a whole fortnight in the 
 house was sufficient for her, and when she 
 had time to think about her niece at all, she 
 thought of her with fond affection. .The dear 
 girl had seemed disposed to be odd and 
 troublesome at first ; but she was clearly bent 
 upon doing the right thing now, and her 
 aunt's blessinof awaited her. She had onlv to 
 come and ask for it, coupling with her re- 
 quest that announcement which Lady Jane 
 conceived that she had now eveiy right to 
 expect. 
 
 All the more profound, therefore, were 
 her ladyship's disgust and disappointment 
 when, one evening towards the middle of 
 January, Hope followed her into lier bed- 
 room, after the party had broken up for the 
 nio'ht, to sav — not that she was enii-aiTed to 
 
 Vol. I. M
 
 1G2 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 Mr. Herbert, but that she proposed returnmg 
 to London forthwith. 
 
 ' I wish,' Lady Jane exclaimed somewhat 
 sharply, ' that you would not talk such absurd 
 nonsense ! You will go to London with us 
 next month ; but sooner than that you cannot 
 go. I thought your uncle had explained it 
 all to you.' 
 
 ' It is very kind of you to wish to keep me, 
 Aunt Jane,' answered the girl, preserving an 
 appearance of calmness, though she was in- 
 wardly a good deal alarmed ; ' but I ought 
 not to waste any more time. I really must 
 go to-morrow or the day after.' 
 
 ' My dear, " must " is hardly a proper 
 word for you to use. It is an ugly word, and 
 I would much rather not use it myself; I 
 prefer to ask you why you are so anxious to 
 leave us all of a sudden. It seemed to me 
 tliat you were enjoying yourself here. Has 
 anything occurred to — distress you ? ' 
 
 Lady Jane was not going to make tlie 
 mistake of mentioning Dick Herbert's name ; 
 but she thoitght that if there had been a
 
 AX ALTERXATJVE lG:i 
 
 lovers' quarrel she had better find out about 
 it, with a view to effecting a reconcihatiou. 
 
 But Hope was apparently unconscious of 
 her meaning. • I have no reason except the 
 old one,' slie answered : ' I want to get on 
 Avith my work, and I want to earn my daily 
 bread as soon as I can.' 
 
 * Eeally, Hope, you have no business to 
 say such things, and I sincerely trust that you 
 don't say them to other people. There is not, 
 and there never was or will be, any question 
 of your earning your daily bread. I don't 
 for a moment suppose that you could do it, if 
 you tried ; but your uncle will certainly not 
 allow you to try. I think you are apt to 
 forget that he is your guardian.' 
 
 Hope did not forget it at all ; nor did she 
 forget who ruled her guardian. She sank on 
 her knees beside the arm-chair in which Lady 
 Jane was sitting, and pleaded, as eloquently as 
 she knew how, to be permitted to have her 
 own way in this thing. She beheved that she 
 had some talent for painting, she said ; if she 
 had not, Mr. Tristram would soon tell her, 
 
 M 2
 
 1G4 A CACIIELORS BLUNDEE 
 
 and til en slic wonld promise to give up all 
 thouglit of becoming an artist. Only let her 
 have a few more months of probation; that 
 was all she asked. She was convinced that if 
 her father were alive he would approve of 
 her intentions ; and surely Uncle Montague 
 mijiht be brou^i^ht to consent ! 
 
 She was very much in earnest ; her plead- 
 ing was pretty and pathetic ; and Lady Jane, 
 who was not more hard-hearted than another, 
 was touched by it. But one must not neglect 
 one's duty because one is touched, and every- 
 body knows that good-natured weakness is 
 often more cruel than severity. Tor these 
 reasons Lady Jane straightened herself in her 
 chair, knitted her brows, put up her eye- 
 glasses, and said : ' Hope, do you know what 
 is your greatest fault ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' answered Hope ; ' it is pride.' 
 ' No, my dear ; selhsliness. You say " I 
 want this — I want that " ; you don't consider 
 Avliat the effect of your following your fancies 
 would be upon others. Why, if your uncle 
 and I allowed you to live apart from us and
 
 AX ALTERNATIVE 105 
 
 paint pictures for a liveliliood, as though you 
 were a pauper ' 
 
 ' I am a pauper; interjected Hope. 
 
 ' That is not the question ; and please 
 allow me to finish. I say that if we did that, 
 we should be simply execrated ! Even as it 
 is, disagreeable things have been said. That 
 horrid old Lady Chatterton has gone about 
 teUing everybody that I won't have you in 
 the house because you are prettier than Ger- 
 trude. I do think it is hard upon me ! ' 
 
 'But, Aunt Jane, nobody would beheve 
 such falsehoods.' 
 
 ' That is exactly where you are mistaken, 
 my dear ; everybody believes falsehoods.' 
 
 And from that startling position Lady 
 Jane decHned to be drawn. Hope exhausted 
 argument and entreaty in vain. Her aunt 
 listened to her, but was always ready with 
 the same conclusive reply. What she asked 
 for could not be given to her. Her request 
 was unreasonable ; but even if it had been 
 reasonable, that would have made no differ- 
 ence : the one important tiling was that Lady
 
 IGG A BACaiELORS BLUNDER 
 
 Chatterton should not be given an excuse for 
 being ill-natured. She closed the interview 
 by sajdng : ' Believe me, rny dear, there is no 
 cure but marriage for girls who are bitten 
 with a longing for independence. Marriage 
 does not make them independent ; but if they 
 have good husbands, they learn to be content 
 with dependency.' 
 
 Hope went away defeated and dejected, 
 and from that evenini]^ she beg;an to look for- 
 ward to the future with less confident eyes. 
 She might think that her aunt was at least as 
 selfish as she was ; but she was obliged to 
 admit that an impartial person would pro- 
 bably pronounce her aunt to be in the right. 
 Mr. Herbert was an impartial person, and she 
 could get no comfort out of him. When she 
 told him of her troubles and fears, he looked 
 distressed, but did not seem to think tliat 
 there was anything for it but submission. 
 More than once she said to herself that it 
 miglit be better, after all, to give up crying 
 for the moon. Her lot was the common lot, 
 and how was she to escape from it if nobody
 
 AX ALTERXATIVE 107 
 
 would back her up ? To live on at Helston 
 all her days would be intolerable ; but there 
 always remained tlie alternative of the good 
 husband. A good husband, she supposed, 
 meant a rich husband. Johnson's dictionary 
 defines ' good ' as ' fit ; proper ; convenient ' 
 — a definition which would doubtless be 
 concurred in by Lady Jane. Love, fancy, 
 ambition — all these things are very Avell for 
 such as can afibrd to indulge in them ; but 
 they are not fit, proper, or convenient for 
 young ladies of limited income. Life is hard ; 
 fife is practical ; ' most friendship is feigning, 
 most loving mere folly ' ; and nothing signifies 
 very much, except that one should cease to 
 be a burden upon one's relations and that 
 the mouth of Lady Chatterton should be 
 stopped. 
 
 This gloomy survey of existence Avas en- 
 couraged by many httle unintentional slights, 
 by continual unavoidable reminders of the 
 changed orders of things, by a sense of utter 
 loneliness for which nobody was to blame. It 
 mav even be that a few careless words, over-
 
 1G8 A BAClIELOrvS BLU>^I)i:i: 
 
 heard one evening at the dinner-table, had 
 somethin2[ to do with it. 
 
 ' So httle Mrs. Pierpoint has estabhshed 
 herself at Melton this year, I hear,' somebody 
 said. ' Pierpoint's abroad — gone away for 
 his health.' 
 
 ' Leaving Bertie Cunningham in charge, 
 eh? ' said somebody else, with a laugh. 
 
 ' Well, he is riding Pierpoint's horses, any- 
 how. How far he replaces him in other ways 
 I don't know.' 
 
 ' The woman is old enough to be his 
 mother,' remarked a third. 
 
 ' Oh, not quite that. And she has a long 
 string of hunters. I daresay Bertie gets a 
 holiday every now and then and consoles 
 himself 
 
 Now, the doings of Captain Cunningham 
 and little Mrs. Pierpoint, whoever she might 
 be, could, of course, be no concern of Miss 
 Lefroy's ; only when one has allowed oneself 
 to feel a certain interest in and regard for an 
 individual, it is dispiriting to learn that he 
 is an entirely worthless person, and if one
 
 AX ALTERNATIVE 169 
 
 happens to be young and impatient one is apt 
 to be led by such discoveries into judging a 
 whole class from a single specimen. So Hope 
 thought that she was making acquaintance 
 with the world, and that the world, taking it 
 as a whole, was a poor sort of place. It is 
 not at the ai?e of nineteen that one can admit 
 the existence of intermediate shades between 
 black and white. 
 
 In the course of a few days it came to 
 pass that Mr. Lefroy gave a great hunt- 
 breakfast. He himself was no longer a 
 hunting-man, but most of his guests were ; 
 besides many people may be invited to such 
 entertainments to whom it is difficult to show 
 civility in any other way. Therefore tlie 
 county at large was asked, and responded 
 with alacrity. The celebrated pack assem- 
 bled on the lawn and was admired from the 
 windows ; and the Master of the Hounds 
 made himself agreeable to Hope by saying 
 cheerily : ' Well, Miss Lefroy, this is more 
 like ; isn't it ? I never expected to see such 
 a lot of pink coats inside Heist on. i\nd.
 
 170 A BACHEI.OnS BLUNDER 
 
 pray, why haven't you got your riding-habit 
 on ? ' 
 
 Hope liad not put on her riding-habit 
 because slie was not going to hunt ; and she 
 was not going to hunt for reasons wdiich the 
 worthy M.F.H. might have divined, if he had 
 not been just a little bit dense. In old days 
 hunting, or at least riding to the meet and 
 seeing something of the hunt, had been one 
 of her chief pleasures during the winter 
 months ; but then in the old days her father 
 had been with her, and she had had horses 
 of her own. She had, indeed, horses of her 
 own still ; only she did not choose to consider 
 them so. Perhaps her uncle w\as justified in 
 thinking this perverse and silly of her, and 
 perhaps her cousins had a right to express 
 their annoyance with her for preferring to 
 stay at home when everybody else was going 
 to the covert-side. Lady Jane said nothing, 
 but Lady Jane happened to know that her 
 niece was not going to stay at home. 
 
 The hounds and hunt-servants had moved 
 away ; the field had followed, and Hope was
 
 AN ALTERNATIVE 171 
 
 standing at the window, watcliing, rather 
 disconsolately, the last of the carriages as it 
 disappeared round the bend of the drive, 
 when a voice behind her remarked : ' I suppose 
 we might as Avell be starting now, might 
 we not ? ' 
 
 Hope turned round and saw, to her 
 surprise, Mr. Herbert, in his ordinary dress, 
 standing at lier elbow. ' You here ! ' she 
 exclaimed. ' Aren't you going to hunt ? ' 
 
 ' No ; going to drive you in a pony-trap,' 
 he replied, laconically. 'The old lady's orders,' 
 he added, by way of explanation. 
 
 ' Do you mean to say that Aunt Jane 
 asked you to take me ? ' cried Hope. ' How 
 nice of her ! " 
 
 She went away to put on her hat with a 
 more cheerful countenance than she had worn 
 of late. She was glad that she was not to be 
 left behind, and still more glad that anyone 
 should have been considerate enough to un- 
 derstand that she might like to see the meet, 
 though she could not quite bring herself to 
 Gfo thither on horseback, as of okL ' Poor
 
 172 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 Ainit Jane ! ' she mused ; ' I suppose she 
 means to be kind.' 
 
 Lady Jane undoubtedly meant to be kind ; 
 l3ut if Hope had had any suspicion of what 
 her aunt's motives were for depriving Mr. 
 Herbert of a day's liunting, she woukl have 
 felt less grateful. She w^as, however, very far 
 from guessing the truth. It had never crossed 
 her mind that Mr. Herbert could be the 
 potential good husband to whom Lady Jane 
 had made allusion. She liked the man, pre- 
 ferring his society to that of anyone else in 
 the house, and believing him to be sincerely 
 her friend ; she was always willing to Avalk or 
 drive with him, and the more so because their 
 intimacy had now reached that pleasant stage 
 at which the making of conversation is no 
 longer necessary, and silence is permissible. 
 
 Of this privilege Herbert was accustomed 
 to avail himself extensively. He never opened 
 his lips after Hope had seated herself beside 
 him in the little two-wheeled basket-carriage, 
 but devoted his attention to sending the pony 
 along at a pace rapid enough to enable them
 
 AX ALTErxXATIVE 17:3 
 
 to overtake the rest of the party, who had 
 got a considerable start. Hope, for her part, 
 did not care to talk. Slie was content to sit 
 still and think her own thoiisfhts, as she was 
 borne past the familiar trees and fields and 
 hedgerows which she loved so much, and 
 which sometimes seemed to her to be stonily 
 indiiferent, and sometimes tenderly regretful, 
 accordini2f as her own mood might chance to 
 be. It was one of those still, misty, silver- 
 grey days when all outlines are indistinct and 
 the earth gives out a pleasant, fresh smell, 
 and every twig has its tiny crystal dewdrop. 
 The smoke rose straight from the cottage 
 chimneys, the windmill on the common was 
 motionless, even the jackdaws that lived in 
 the grey church-tower were silent. Hope 
 had an inward greeting for them all. ' Good- 
 bye, church ; good-bye, jackdaws ; good-bye, 
 dear old mill ! ' She was always saying good- 
 bye to these old friends, though it was likely 
 enough that she would see them many times 
 again. Perhaps it was not so much to them 
 as to her old life that she was bidding fare-
 
 174 A CACIIELORS BLUXI)i:if 
 
 well ; to the old life which was sli])piiig away 
 from her — the very memory of it even grow- 
 ing dim — and upon which slie was ineffec- 
 tually trying to keep a lingering hold. 
 
 She was sorry when the drive was over, 
 and when she was once more among the 
 spruce, well-turned-out men and women who 
 looked as if they would have been so much 
 more in their proper place in ]3elgravia than 
 at Helston. But she was not detained long in 
 the company of the dowagers ; for Herbert 
 got somebody to open a gate for liim and 
 drove her across the grass to the side of 
 the spinney in which the hounds Avere, 
 and whither the heavier vehicles could not 
 follow. They had not arrived upon the scene 
 a minute too soon : for almost immediately 
 the fox broke cover ; the field, a somewhat 
 large one, went streaming away downhill, and 
 the pony, excited by the thunder of hoofs and 
 profiting by the inattention of his driver, 
 plunged suddenly forward and made a bolt 
 for it. However, he was pulled up, after a 
 good deal of bumping and jolting, by the
 
 AX ALTERXATIYE 175 
 
 strong arms of Dick Herbert, who did not 
 appear to think the episode worthy of com- 
 ment, but only asked : * Are we to go liome 
 now ? ' 
 
 ' I suppose so,' Hope answered, rather 
 reluctantly. 
 
 ' Do you want to go home r ' he inquired ; 
 and when she said 'Xo,' he rejoined 'All 
 right, then ; we'll make a round. I daresay 
 you know the roads hereabouts well enough 
 to tell me if I ao wronfj.' 
 
 After this he did not speak again for a 
 long time. It was not until they had tra- 
 versed some miles of road, and the pony had 
 been eased up a hill, that he turned to his 
 companion and said abruptly : * Well ? ' 
 
 Hope started out of a day-dream and 
 looked up at him, smihng. ' Well ? ' she 
 returned. 
 
 ' I mean, how are vou srettins" <-)n y Are 
 you at all more resigned to things than you 
 were ? ' 
 
 ' Xo,' answered Hope, becoming grave 
 again, ' not yet. I feel that there is just the
 
 170 A JiACIIELORS ELUXDER 
 
 shadow of a chance that I may be able to 
 talk Uncle Montague over. When that is 
 gone, I daresay I shall realise that what can't 
 be cured must be endured.' 
 
 ' Oh, lie won't be talked over,' said 
 Herbert ; ' your chance was with Lady Jane, 
 and I'm afraid that is disposed of now.' 
 
 ' I am afraid so,' assented Hope. 
 
 There was a ])ause of a minute or two, and 
 then Herbert resumed : ' Miss Lefroy, I have 
 a proposition to make to you. I don't know 
 wliether it will startle you or not ; but there 
 is ]'eally no reason why it should. I take it 
 that what you want is to get away from 
 HeLston — if possible, by setting up an esta- 
 blishment of your own — but anyhow to get 
 away. Well, as I told you before, the only 
 way in which you can manage that is by 
 marrying somebody ; and what I was think- 
 ing was, liow would it be if you were to 
 marry me P ' 
 
 Tliis most unexpected proposal, and the 
 perfect composure and slight drawl with 
 which it was enunciated, took Hope so much
 
 AX ALTERNATIVE 177 
 
 aback that she hardly reahsed the meaning of 
 the words. ' What ? ' she ejaculated. 
 
 ' I say, how would it be if you were to 
 marry me ? You might just think it over. 
 I wouldn't sucrcjest it if I could see anv other 
 way out of the difficulty ; but I can't. We 
 have been capital friends from the first ; you 
 would be allowed to have your own way 
 pretty well in everything, and I believe I am 
 a very easy sort of fellow to live with. 
 Besides, I daresay I should be a good deal 
 away from home.' 
 
 Hope burst out laughing. ' I never heard 
 anything so funny I' she exclaimed. And then, 
 becoming suddenly serious : ' !Mr. Herbert, do 
 you really suppose that I should allow you or 
 anybody else to marry me out of charity? I 
 don't quite know whether I ought to be angry 
 or grateful ; but I think I am grateful to you. 
 Only, of course, I can't accept your offer.' 
 
 ' There's no need to be angry, or grateful 
 either,' said Herbert, placidly. ' It's a sort of 
 mutual accommodation business, don't you 
 see? I have always felt that I should have to 
 
 Vol. 1. N
 
 178 A BACHELORS ELUXDEE, 
 
 marry some day, and if you won't have me, I 
 shall probably fall into the jaws of some 
 London girl who will — well, play tlie deuce 
 generally. As for you, depend upon it, you 
 won't be able to remain unmarried much 
 longer. You may think you will, just as you 
 thought you might live in a studio in London ; 
 but you'll find that circumstances and Lady 
 Jane will be too many for you. And I can't 
 help thinking that you might chance upon a 
 worse husband than I should be.' 
 
 ' But, Mr. Herbert,' objected Hope, half 
 laughing, and colouring a little, ' I may be 
 old-fashioned — only it does seem to me that 
 there can be no happiness in marriages where 
 there is no love.' 
 
 ' Yes, I know ; but I differ from you there, 
 and you'll allow that I have seen more of the 
 world than you have. There ought to be 
 liking^ I admit ; people ought to be able to 
 get on together when they are married. But 
 you may be furiously in love and yet not get 
 on together a bit — I've seen it scores of times. 
 The fact is that that kind of thing seldom lasts.
 
 AX ALTERNATIVE 170 
 
 After a year or so it is just as if you had 
 never been in love at all ; and where are you 
 then, you know ? It's a regular cat-and-dog 
 sort of life very often. I give you my word,' 
 he added, ^vith more earnestness, ' that I 
 would never dream of asking you to do this if 
 I didn't believe that it would be for your 
 happiness in the long run.' 
 
 Hope made no reply. Should she reject 
 this helping hand that was held out to her or 
 not y A few weeks ago she would have 
 laughed to scorn anyone who should have 
 suggested that she could hesitate in such a 
 case. She, of all people in the world, to make 
 a marriage of convenience ! 'A sort of mutual 
 accommodation business ' ! She would have 
 shuddered at the bare thought. But she did 
 not slmdder now. Her eyes had been opened, 
 or she thought that they had ; she had lost 
 confidence in herself and in the future. 
 Eomance was not for her. It was by no 
 means unlikely that some day circumstances 
 and Lady Jane might, as Herbert predicted, 
 force her into mariying a man for whom she 
 
 n 2
 
 180 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 did not care ; and, as far as mere liking went, 
 she certainly did like her j^resent dispassionate 
 wooer very much. 
 
 'What do you think of it?' he asked, 
 after giving her plenty of time for reflection. 
 
 ' I don't know,' she answered, with a deep 
 sigh. ' Even if I wished to accept, I am not 
 sure that I ought.' 
 
 ' Well, don't accept and don't refuse ; that's 
 the best way. I'll tell you what you might 
 do,' he added presently ; ' you might make it 
 conditional. Suppose you were to go back to 
 London for a time and see whether there is 
 really any chance of your succeeding as an 
 artist ? If you find that there is, you can 
 afford to wait until you are of age, and the 
 engagement shall be off; if not, you might 
 take me as a j)'^s-aUer. I would arrange it all 
 with your people. They won't like to pre- 
 vent your going, because I shall explain to 
 them that, if they do, I shall look upon your 
 refusal as final, and not repeat my offer. Do 
 you see ? ' 
 
 Hope began to laugh again, though there
 
 AX ALTEKXATIVE ISl 
 
 were tears in her eyes. ' Do you know,' she 
 said, looking up at her companion, ' that you 
 are very odd ? You seem to be thinking only 
 of me ; you don't consider yourself.' 
 
 ' I beg your pardon ; I am considering my- 
 self the whole time. I want you to marry 
 me. Indeed, I may say that I want it very 
 much. It appears to me that we are suited to 
 one another in many ways.' 
 
 'And are you quite sure that — that you 
 don't expect ' 
 
 ' Expect you to be in love with me ? Cer- 
 tainly not. I know that that is impossible.' 
 
 'There is nothing impossible about it,' 
 returned Hope, with a touch of impatience ; 
 ' only it isnt so. Do you quite understand 
 that it isn't so ? ' 
 
 'Quite, thanks. Xow let us talk about 
 something else.' 
 
 And during the remainder of the drive 
 they actually did converse much as usual, 
 parting at the hall-door without any further 
 reference to the half-contract into which they 
 liad entered.
 
 182 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 AlSr UNKNOWN PATRON. 
 
 The very first thing that Hope did, when she 
 woke up in the morning and recalled the 
 events of the previous day, was to take her- 
 self to task for her want of resolution in not 
 having at once and decidedly refused Mr. 
 Herbert. It was true that she had not ac- 
 cepted him ; but she had as good as promised 
 that she would do so, given certain conditions 
 which were by no means unhkely to arise. 
 And of course she could not marry him. She 
 marvelled at herself for having thought for 
 one moment that she could. 
 
 This was her first impression ; but, while 
 she was dressing, her mind passed through 
 various other phases. The thought that this 
 engagement — if it could be called an engage-
 
 AX UXKXOWX PATROX 18:', 
 
 ment — would enable lier to escape, at least 
 for a time, and to return to London, work and 
 liberty, almost made her waver. If she sent 
 Herbert about his business, what Avould there 
 be to look forward to and to live for ? Xo- 
 thing. But, on the other hand, supposing that 
 Mr. Tristram should tell her that she could 
 never hope to rise above mediocrity in her 
 
 art ? Could she then go back from her word 
 
 I— 
 
 and inform her suitor that, all things con- 
 sidered, she found it impossible to become his 
 wife ? Well, if she did, he woidd not break 
 his heart, she supposed. An odd, and yet 
 not unnatural, feeling of irritation took posses- 
 sion of her w^hen she remembered how cool 
 Herbert had been over it all, and how he had 
 not thouofht it worth while even to hint that 
 there could be any question of his being in 
 love with her. ' Am I so very unattractive, 
 then ? ' she asked herself. 
 
 She was sitting before her looking-glass, 
 which answered her question in language that 
 could not be mistaken. And then, all of a 
 sudden, there flitted before her the vision of a
 
 184 A I3ACHEL0RS BLUNDER 
 
 beautiful youth with dark hair and violet 
 eyes. What made her remember Captain 
 Cunningham at that moment ? — and what had 
 he to do with the subject about which she was 
 thinking? These were questions which she 
 would have preferred to shirk ; but, under the 
 circumstances, she felt that she must not allow 
 herself to do so. Fortunately for her peace 
 of mind, pride came to the rescue, and en- 
 abled her to give Captain Cunningham a con- 
 temptuous dismissal. She had only thought 
 of him because he was so good-looking, and 
 because he was a sort of embodiment of 
 youth. If she were ever to fall in love, it 
 might be with somebody like him ; but he, as 
 an individual, would certainly never touch her 
 heart. A mere boy — and a very silly and 
 wicked sort of boy, too, by all accounts — no ! 
 she was in no danger of cherishing too fond a 
 recollection of him. Mr. Herbert was at any 
 rate a man ; in all his words and habits he 
 was thoroughly manly, and no one need ever 
 be ashamed of such a husband. However, lie 
 was not to be her husband. She summed up
 
 AX UXKXOWX TATROX 185 
 
 with tliat conclusion and resolved that, imme- 
 diately after breakfast, she would take him 
 aside and let him know of it. 
 
 But Fate had decreed that this opportunity 
 of drawing back should be denied to her. 
 Dick Herbert, who was less given to vacilla- 
 tion than she, had formally laid the case 
 before his host on the preceding evening, and 
 thus Hope, instead of taking her suitor aside 
 when breakfast was over, was herself taken 
 aside by Lady Jane and led into ]\Ir. Lefroy's 
 study, where she was embraced and congratu- 
 lated before she could get her breath. 
 
 Lady Jane was radiant. ' My dear, I am 
 so very, very glad ! I quite anticipated this, 
 and I am sure we could not wish to see you 
 more happily established. Such a charming 
 place ! And although he has not a London 
 house at present, there will be no difficulty 
 about that, so far as money is concerned. 
 K^ot that money signifies nearly as much as 
 his being such a dear, kind fellow, and so 
 high-principled. Poor Lady Chatterton ! She 
 used to try hard to get him for one of her
 
 180 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 daughters, and I am afraid she will be incon- 
 solable now.' 
 
 ' But, Aunt Jane,' interrupted Hope in 
 dismay, ' joii talk as if it were all settled, and 
 it isn't settled a bit. I had no idea that Mr. 
 Herbert had spoken to you. Didn't he tell 
 you that there were conditions ? ' 
 
 ' Most senseless conditions, in my opinion,' 
 observed Mr. Lefroy, who had seated himself 
 at his writing-table, and who did not seem 
 quite to share his wife's rosy view of the 
 situation. 
 
 ' Such as they are, Mr. Herbert agreed to 
 them,' returned Hope, fixing bayonets to re- 
 ceive the enemy. 
 
 ' Yes, yes ; we quite understand,' said 
 Lady Jane soothingly, while she patted her 
 niece on the shoulder. 'We may think it 
 rather a pity, but — well, never mind ! No 
 doubt all will come right in the end ; and if 
 you are so tired of us that you want to go off 
 to-morrow, you can go. We shall not pre- 
 vent you.' 
 
 The fact was that Lady Jane was under
 
 AX UXKXOWX TATROX 187 
 
 no apprehension of lier niece's turning out to 
 be a genius, nor did she fear that, even in 
 that improbable event, there would be any 
 rupture of the engagement ; for she was a 
 firm behever m the proverb of Chateau qui 
 park etfemme qui ecoute. 
 
 ' Well now, you know, Hope,' said ^Ir. 
 Lefroy, with his hands in his pockets, * all 
 this is great bosh ; but as you and Herbert 
 seem to be of one mind about it, I suppose we 
 must give in. I beg, however, to say that 
 we, on our side, have a condition to impose.' 
 
 ' A very little one,' broke in Lad}^ Jane ; 
 ' it is only that you come to us in Eaton 
 Square next month. Xow, my dear, we can- 
 not hear any objection to that ; we cannot 
 really. You must allow your uncle to be the 
 best judge of what is right and proper for his 
 ward, and I think you will admit that he is 
 stretching a point in letting you leave us at 
 all. As for your living apart from us in 
 London, that is out of the question. It would 
 create a positive scandal, and I am sure you 
 Avould re<?ret it afterwards as much as we
 
 188 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 should. After all, what difference can it 
 make to you? You will go on with your 
 lessons just as before, if you choose, and you 
 will not be interfered with in any way. Well, 
 then that is arranged, and we need not bother 
 your uncle any longer.' 
 
 Mr. Lefroy rubbed his hands and looked 
 thankful, and Hope felt that she could not, 
 without extreme ungraciousness, refuse to do 
 as she was told. Nevertheless, she saw that 
 her feet had become entangled in toils from 
 which there might be very great difficulty in 
 extricating them. ' Of course,' she said, turn- 
 ing to her aunt, ' you won't say a word about 
 this to anybody.' 
 
 ' Eeally,' answered Lady Jane, ' I don't see 
 why we should make a secret of it. I hate 
 mysteries.' 
 
 ' But it is not settled ! — it is not in the 
 least settled ! ' cried Hope, vehemently. ' It 
 is only a thing that may come to pass some 
 day ; and if people are told about it now, it 
 shall never come to pass. Nobody can force 
 me to marry.'
 
 AX UXKXO^X PATROX 139 
 
 ' Very well, my dear, you need not be so 
 fierce about it. My lips shall be closed until 
 you give me leave to open them. Please 
 remember that poor Mr. Herbert considers 
 himself quite bound to you, that is all.' 
 
 ' I don't wish him to consider himself 
 bound in any way,' Hope declared ; and later 
 in the day she found an opportunity of saying 
 as much to 3^Ir. Herbert himself, who laughed 
 and replied : ' All right. If I meet with a 
 more suitable person, I won't fail to let you 
 know.' 
 
 ' And I am to be free too,' insisted Hope. 
 
 ' That is of course,' he answered. ' I'm 
 sorry you didn't like my speaking to your 
 uncle. My only reason for doing so was that 
 you wouldn't have been allowed to go away 
 unless I had.' 
 
 This was undeniable, and Hope took some 
 comfort to herself from the thought that she 
 had at least gained a short spell of liberty. 
 Being anxious that it should be no shorter 
 than could be helped, she resolved to take 
 Lady Jane at her word, wrote a hurried note
 
 190 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 to Mrs. Mills, spent the afternoon in packing, 
 and came downstairs earl}^ the next morning, 
 prepared to catch the first train to London. 
 
 She was not suffered to depart without 
 some remonstrance, and there w^as a good 
 deal of kissing and significant whispering to 
 be gone through in the hall ; but fortunately 
 the majority of the guests had not yet left 
 their rooms, so that there were few witnesses 
 of these demonstrations. Herbert's leave- 
 taking was characteristic. He sauntered 
 down the steps as Hope was getting into the 
 carriage and shook hands with her, saying : 
 ' Good-bye, Miss Lefroy, and good luck to 
 you ! If you should feel inclined to drop me 
 a line at any time to say how you are getting 
 on, I shall be much honoured. My address is 
 Farndon Court, Windsor. Good-bye ! ' 
 
 And that was the last of Dick Herbert for 
 the present. 
 
 Eeaders of novels are found among all 
 sorts and conditions of men. It must not be 
 suggested that anyone whose eye may chance 
 to fall upon this page can ever have been
 
 AX UXKXOWX TATROX 191 
 
 let out of prison ; but lie may possibly remem- 
 ber to have been liberated from a fine old- 
 fashioned quarantine station ; orhe may, years 
 ago, have driven avray for the hohdays from 
 a private school at which the fare was hard 
 and the discipline vexatious (there are no 
 such schools nowadays, it is said) ; or he may 
 have set foot on shore after eight-and-forty 
 hours of dire sea-sickness. It is at such times 
 that one experiences the rare and delightful 
 sensation of happiness in the present, without 
 thought for the future. Hope's reflections 
 during the whole of her journey to London 
 might have been summarised by a reiterated 
 ejaculation of ' Heaven be praised ! I am out 
 of that.' 
 
 She was — if anybody Hkes to say so — a 
 little ungrateful to people who were doing 
 tlieir very best for her, according to their 
 lights. Slie was wholly out of sympatliy with 
 them ; the restrictions which governed tlieir 
 lives were new and galling to her ; she could 
 do justice to them in theory, but she could 
 not, without misery, dwell with them in her
 
 392 A BACHELOKS BLUNDER 
 
 old home. The httle rooms in Henrietta Street 
 were a great deal more like home to her now. 
 It was a joy to her to get back to them, to 
 see Mills' friendly, ngly face again, to sit 
 down to tea and boiled eggs instead of dinner, 
 to have to study economy once more, and to 
 be delivered from the hands of officious maids. 
 Even when she was sitting over the fire late 
 at night and was beginning to take in the 
 fact that to-morrow was at hand, and that to- 
 morrow would be succeeded by twenty-nine 
 other morrows, more or less, after which 
 thraldom must recommence — even then she 
 could not subdue the elasticity of her spirits. 
 If we were all logical and reasonable in youth 
 we might just as well be born old ; in which 
 case there would be a sad diminution of the 
 sum of earthly happiness. To Hope at that 
 moment all things seemed possible. Dick 
 Herbert and his whimsical offer were left 
 behind — a long way behind ; her own mis- 
 o'ivings were shaken off. Why should she not 
 be a second Eosa Bonheur ? Great female 
 artists do arise everv now and then, and,
 
 AX UXKXOWX I'ATROX 193 
 
 according to the law of averages, it was about 
 time for one to make her appearance. That 
 oft-quoted and terribly misunderstood dictum 
 about genius being the capacity for taking 
 infinite pains recurred to her mind and en- 
 couraized her ; she longed for the morninfx to 
 come, that slie might hasten to Tristram's 
 house and set to work with all the power that 
 she possessed. 
 
 The patient !Mills was hurried off at an 
 earlier hour the next day than was quite 
 compatible with the comfort of her first-floor 
 lodgers ; and Tristram, who had been in- 
 formed by a note of his pupil's return, was 
 waiting in his studio to receive her. ' I am 
 quite well, thank you,' he said, in answer to 
 her inquiries ; ' also I am extremely busy, 
 and there is every appearance of our having 
 a yelloAV fog this afternoon. We ^\'ill each 
 begin our daily task at once, if you don't 
 mind, and we can talk afterwards.' 
 
 ' I am quite ready,' replied Hope, entering 
 the little room which was reserved for her 
 
 Vol. I.
 
 194 A BACHELORS BLUXDER 
 
 use, and divesting herself of lier hat and 
 jacket. ' What shall I do ? ' 
 
 ' Do ? ' Tristram hesitated for a moment, 
 looking about him. He was fond of dogs and 
 always had two or three of them on the pre- 
 mises. ' Here,' he said suddenly, catching up 
 a little Yorkshire terrier by the scruff of his 
 neck and tossing him upon a sofa ; ' paint 
 that. You must a:et it done at one sitting- 
 mind. I don't want a picture or a careful 
 sketch ; I want a study, more or less iinished. 
 I give you three hours — ample time, if you 
 know how to set about it.' And, with that, 
 he left her. 
 
 Hope had not had much experience in 
 depicting animals, nor was she accustomed to 
 work with rapidity ; but she determined to do 
 her very utmost to stand the test to which she 
 was being subjected. She was very eager to 
 earn a little praise that morning. If Tristram 
 would only say a few encouraging words it 
 would be such a help to her and would 
 seem like a good omen. So she made friends 
 with the little dog, and induced him to look
 
 AX UXXXOWX PATROX 195 
 
 at her, and placed Iiini in various positions 
 whicli he dechned to maintain, and' dashed 
 with feverish haste into her study. It was a 
 total failure, and a second and third attempt 
 pleased her no better ; but the fourth time 
 something more like achievement rewarded 
 her efforts. 
 
 After the first difficulty had been over- 
 come she took heart and phed her brushes 
 swiftly and silently, while Mills darned an 
 old stocking, murmuring occasionally : ' Poor 
 Toby ! Poor little feller ! ' to the dog, whose 
 name was not Toby, and who glanced over 
 his shoulder with ineffable contempt at the 
 ridiculous old person who knew no better 
 than to call him so. Luckily, he felt an 
 interest in Hope's proceedings, and, when she 
 spoke to him, would rouse himself from in- 
 cipient slumber to gaze inquisitively at her, 
 with his ears cocked and his head on one 
 side. It was thus that she caught his likeness. 
 His wise little face, his bright eyes, looking 
 out from beneath their shaggy penthouse, the 
 curiosity that w^as expressed in his pointed 
 
 o 2
 
 190 A BACIIELOES BLUNDER 
 
 ears, the many shades of his long, silky coat 
 — all these she managed to render with a 
 good deal of skill and fidelity, and she was 
 debating with herself whether she should let 
 well alone or add a few finishing touches, 
 when, to her astonishment, Tristram came in 
 to say that the allotted time was up. 
 
 ' So that is my little tyke, is it ? ' he ob- 
 served, examining wdiat she had done, and he 
 stood looking at it in silence for what seemed 
 to Hope an interminable time. 
 
 'Do you think I have improved?' she 
 ventured to ask at last. 
 
 ' Yes,' he answered slowly ; ' I think you 
 have improved. You have more facility than 
 I gave you credit for — more facilit3^' 
 
 This, coming from Tristram, was a good 
 deal, and he added nothing more, but gazed 
 abstractedly at the study, drawing his fingers 
 through his beard. When he turned away 
 and saw Hope's happy face, he smiled at her 
 in an odd, rather sad sort of fashion. He 
 looked as if he were sorry for her, and she 
 wondered why.
 
 AX UXKXOWX TATROX 197 
 
 ' You want to get on very mucli, don't 
 you ? ' he asked gently. 
 
 ' Yes ; veri/ much ! ' she rephed. 
 
 ' Well, well ! ' muttered Tristram, and began 
 to walk up and down the room. Presently 
 he stopped and shook his broad shoulders, as 
 if to free tliem from a weight. ' Come,' said 
 he cheerfully ; ' you have done a good morn- 
 inizs work, and I have o'ot a httle bit of sfood 
 news for you as a reward. I have sold two 
 of your pictures.' 
 
 ' Oh ! have you ? ' exclaimed Hope, catch- 
 ing her breath. 
 
 ' Yes ; and fjot a hundred «^uineas for the 
 pair, too. What do you think of that ? ' 
 
 A hundred guineas ! Hope felt herself 
 rich beyond the dreams of avarice. ' Is it pos- 
 sible?' she cried. 'Who could have bousrht 
 tliem ? ' 
 
 ' Well, a dealer bought them ; but it was 
 on commission, as I need hardly say. His 
 instructions were to buy two of your pictures, 
 and he wanted to know the price. I said a 
 hundred guineas, at which he made an ugly
 
 198 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 face ; but lie admitted that he was authorised 
 to expend that sum, and I assured him we 
 couldn't take less.' 
 
 'Mr. Tristram,' said Hope, becoming 
 grave, as a rather dispiriting thought crossed 
 her mind ; ' upon your honour — was it you 
 who bought those pictures ? ' 
 
 ' Upon my lionour,' answered Tristram, 
 ' it was not. Upon my honour, I don't think 
 them worth the money. And if you don't 
 know who the purchaser is, I'm sure I do 
 not.' 
 
 ' I haven't an idea,' said Hope musingly. 
 
 She had an idea ; but it was an absurd 
 one, and she dismissed it. Young officers in 
 the Guards, witli next to no income, do not 
 throw away a hundred guineas upon the 
 daubs of an amateur. Besides, wdiy should 
 Captain Cunningham care to jDOssess any of 
 her productions ? She never would have sup- 
 posed that it could be he, only that she was 
 unable to think of anyone else who knew that 
 she was painting with a view to ultimate 
 profit. Nevertheless, this notion, for all its
 
 AX U^'KXOWX PATROX 1G9 
 
 absurdity, came back to her more than once 
 in the course of the afternoon and evening ; 
 and she only got rid of it at last hj reminding 
 herself that Cunningham was a man whom 
 she could never like, and that, if he bought 
 pictures at all, it was probably to present 
 them to little Mrs. Pierpoint.
 
 :00 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 HOPE IS TOLD THE TRUTH. 
 
 If Hope had felt any overpowering desire to 
 learn the name of the man who had so rashly 
 expended a hundred guineas upon two care- 
 fully executed but not very original works of 
 art, she miglit easily have asked Tristram to 
 give her the address of the picture-dealer and 
 applied to that intermediary for the desired 
 information. This course did, indeed, suggest 
 itself to her ; but, upon second thoughts, she 
 decided not to adopt it. People who insist 
 upon knowing too much often have reason to 
 repent of their curiosity ; and what, after all, 
 did it signify? The important matter was 
 tliat she had already managed to earn a round 
 sum of money ; that would be something to 
 tell her uncle when he came up to London.
 
 HOPE IS TOLD THE TRUTH 201 
 
 In the meantime, she took advantage of her 
 leisure to work unremittingly both in Tris- 
 tram's studio and at home. 
 
 Tristram, after the first day, did not praise 
 her much : but, on the otlier liand, she 
 fancied that he watched her with greater 
 interest and treated her aspirations more 
 seriously than he had done in the autumn. 
 His method with her had the aj^pearance of 
 being a little capricious. He seldom allowed 
 her to finisli anything that slie had begun, 
 but would push it aside, saying : ' There's 
 enough of that ; try something else.' Some- 
 times he would make one of his models sit to 
 her in an attitude which would have bothered 
 IViichelangelo himself; sometimes he would 
 order her to produce an eflfect of light and 
 shade which even his own audacity might 
 have hesitated to undertake. He never ^dve 
 her anything easy to do and never seemed to 
 care much about her drawing being defective. 
 By degrees she began to understand what it 
 was that he was trying to discover ; and 
 though this made her tremble — for she could
 
 202 A LACTIELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 not help knowing tliat the originahty Avliich 
 he sought Avas not in her — yet her courage 
 rose even Avliile she trembled and while the 
 immense difficulties of art grew more apparent 
 to her. To recognise a difficulty is surely a 
 step, though it be but a small one, towards 
 overcoming it. 
 
 The days flew by and Hope's holiday of 
 hard labour seemed scarcely to have begun 
 when it was over. It w^as, in fact, somewhat 
 curtailed by the arrival of her relations in 
 Eaton Square at a date rather earlier than 
 that which tliey had fixed upon. Parliament 
 met in the first days of February, and, as an 
 important amendment was moved to the 
 Address, it was necessary that Mr. Lefroy 
 should be in his place to swell the numeri- 
 cally feeble ranks of the Opposition. His 
 voice, likewise, was placed at the service of 
 his party and tlie country for a few minutes, 
 when he rose, wdth an amiable smile, to say 
 that the wild inconsistencies of the right 
 honourable gentleman at the head of the 
 Government had now, he should imairine.
 
 HOPE IS TOLD THE TRUTH 203 
 
 reached their culminating point. Further, 
 that he (Mr. Lefroy) happened to know as a 
 fact that a very large section of the right 
 lionourable gentleman's followers were aghast 
 — simply aghast — at the condition of public 
 affairs, and would certainly never give him 
 another vote if they had the courage to obey 
 their consciences. 
 
 This declaration, which brought about — as 
 it was probably designed to do — a very pretty 
 row at the time. Avas not productive of serious 
 consequences ; and, so far as any benefit to 
 the Conservative cause was concerned, ]\Ir. 
 Lefroy might, perhaps, as well have remained 
 quietly at Helston Abbey. But his return to 
 London, if it failed to check the headlong^ 
 career of the Ministry, was quite effectual in 
 disturbing that of his niece. Hope, after she 
 had bidden a regretful farewell to Henrietta 
 Street and Jiad reported herself, in accordance 
 with instructions, in Eaton Square, soon per- 
 ceived that her studies could only be con- 
 tinued in the face of persistent and almost 
 insurmountable obstacles. Althoucfh she was
 
 204 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 nominally allowed to take lier breakfast at 
 any hour that suited her, she could not 
 2:)ractically get it before ten o'clock ; and 
 immediately afterwards her cousins were w^ont 
 to claim her services. 
 
 'You might be good-natured and come to 
 the dressmaker's with me,' Alice w^ould say. 
 ' You have all your life to paint pictures in, 
 and I have only a few weeks in ivhich to pro- 
 vide myself with a stock of decent apparel.' 
 
 Lady Jane, too, show^ed an alarming ten- 
 dency to assume that all the required con- 
 cessions had now been made, and that it only 
 remained to summon Mr. Herbert up from 
 the country. When Hope assured her that 
 she was labouring under a total misapprehen- 
 sion of the case, slie only smiled indulgently 
 and said : ' Well, he must come up for Alice's 
 wedding, at any rate, and then you and he 
 can talk matters over. But for your own 
 sake, I hope you won't go on much longer 
 like this. Everybody is talking about it.' 
 
 ' Do you mean to say,' exclaimed Hope in
 
 HOPE IS TOLD THE TRUTH 205 
 
 dismay, ' that you have told anybody that we 
 are eiif^aaed ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly not. How could you think 
 such a thing of me after my promise to you ? 
 Naturally people noticed that you were always 
 together at Helston, and naturally I have been 
 asked questions about it ; but I have always 
 replied that there was no engagement yet.' 
 
 ' Yet ! ' Hope groaned and turned away. 
 It was evidently useless to remonstrate with 
 her aunt. 
 
 On the third day after her change of 
 quarters a number of people came to dinner, 
 amono'st whom was a certain Mr. Francis : 
 ' A great friend of Dick Herbert's,' Lady Jane 
 whispered to her ; • he is going to take you 
 in to dinner, and I hope you will make your- 
 self agreeable to him, becaiise he is by way of 
 being extra fastidious.' 
 
 The inference that she was about to be 
 submitted to Mr. Francis for approval was not 
 calculated to prepossess Hope in favour of 
 that gentleman ; nor was she particularly 
 taken with the look of him wlien he was intro-
 
 20G A bachelor's BLUXDER 
 
 ducecl to her. He was a small, wiry, alert 
 man, with bright brown eyes and dark hair 
 and beard, in which last a white thread or two 
 were distinguishable- here and there. Hope 
 fancied that he was mentally appraising her, 
 and did not trouble herself to respond to his 
 advances with any cordiality. He was not, 
 however, discouraged by her coldness, and 
 after a time she became interested in him, in 
 spite of herself. He talked very pleasantly ; 
 he seemed to know everybody, to have been 
 everywhere, and to have tried his hand at all 
 sorts of occupations and amusements. Before 
 dinner was half over Hope had found out that 
 he had been in Parliament, but had accepted 
 the Chiltern Hundreds, experience having 
 forced him, as he said, to abandon so many of 
 the advanced ideas with which he had started 
 that he had thought it best to retire from 
 political life while he had still a few illusions 
 left. He appeared to know^ a good deal about 
 art ; he had at one time been war corre- 
 spondent to one of the chief daily papers ; he 
 had accompanied a yachting expedition to the
 
 HOrE IS TOLD THE TRUTIE 207 
 
 polar regions, and tlicre was no variety of 
 sport witli wliicli lie was not familiar. 
 
 'It was Dick Herbert who lirst introduced 
 me to tlie big game,' lie remarked. 'You 
 know him, I beheve ? And I hope you like 
 him ; because, if you don't, we won't talk 
 about him.' 
 
 Hope would much have preferred not to 
 talk about him ; but honesty comjoelled her 
 to admit that she liked liim. and her iieio-h- 
 bour went on : 
 
 ' I shall never be such a sliot as Herbert ; 
 but I'm respectable enough to be trusted on 
 occasions when it wouldn't be altogether safe 
 to miss ; and he and I have had many a o-ood 
 month together in India and Abyssinia. Dick 
 Herbert is, without any exception, the best- 
 tempered fellow that I know. I never saw 
 him put out, and I never heard liim grumble.' 
 
 ' I am not sure that I admire that extreme 
 good-nature,' Hope was provoked into sayino-. 
 ' Of course, if one does not care particularly 
 about anything or anybody, one is not hkely 
 to be put out.'
 
 208 A BACIIELOllS BLUNDER 
 
 Mr. Francis looked annoyed. ' You don't 
 know much of Dick Herbert, evidently,' he 
 remarked. 
 
 As he was silent for several minutes after 
 this, Hope flattered herself that she had caused 
 him to drop the subject ; but presently he 
 took her terribly aback by turning round in 
 ]iis chair so as to face her, and saying : ' Miss 
 Lefroy, I wish you Avould tell me something. 
 Perhaps it is rather impertinent of me to ask ; 
 but am I right in suspecting that Herbert is 
 going to be married ? ' 
 
 'I — I — don't know,' answered Hope, 
 faintly. But she recovered herself in a minute 
 and added : ' To the best of my belief he is 
 not engaged to anybody.' 
 
 'Oh, I see — only going to be. Well, I'm 
 sorry. I liope you will excuse my saying tliat 
 I'm sorry. I don't speak from a selfish point 
 of view, for I should be glad to see Herbert 
 married, though I suppose I may expect to 
 lose a good friend when the event comes off; 
 but there are very few women good enough 
 for him, and still fewer who would be likely
 
 HOPE IS TOLD THE TRUTH 20d 
 
 to suit him. I wonder whether it is too late 
 to try and stop this.' 
 
 Hope hardly knew how to answer. As no 
 direct reference had been made to herself, she 
 thought it best to assume that she was not 
 alluded to, and said : 
 
 ' Xot in the least too late, I should think. 
 As I told you, I don't believe !Mr. Herbert is 
 enoracred at all.' 
 
 ' Ah, but you think he will be before long, 
 and so does Lady Jane ; she gave me to un- 
 derstand as much. Besides, he wouldn't liave 
 stayed all that time at your uncle's without a 
 reason. As a general thing he hates staying 
 in other people's houses, unless it is for a few 
 days' shooting. You are quite mistaken in 
 supposing that Herbert doesn't care about 
 anything or anybody. He cares a good deal 
 more than most people, and shows it a good 
 deal less, that is all. He is the very last man 
 in the world who ouo-ht to make such a mar- 
 riage as I am pretty sure that this would 
 be. His mfe must be able to enter into his 
 ways, otherwise she will spoil his hfe, and 
 
 Vol. I. P
 
 210 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 very likely her own into tlie bargain — if tliat 
 sisrnifies.' 
 
 •Possibly it might signify to her,' remarked 
 Hope. ' Do you mean that slie should be able 
 to shoot lions and tigers ? ' 
 
 'No,' ansAvered Mr. Francis, rather tartly, 
 ' I don't. I mean that she ought to be as 
 unselfish and kindhearted as he is ; and, to 
 speak plainly, I doubt whether the lady in 
 question is remarkable for unselfishness.' 
 
 ' Are you sure that you know mucli about 
 her ? ' inquired Hope. 
 
 * I am not very well acquainted with her, 
 certainly ; but some people are easily classi- 
 fied. No doubt she w^ould turn out a very 
 fair, average empty-headed member of society 
 if she were mated with one of her own species ; 
 but most assuredly she is not fit to black Dick 
 Herbert's boots. I ought to apologise for my 
 plain language ; but I hate to think of poor 
 Herbert being so thrown away.' 
 
 ' Pray don't apologise, Mr. Francis,' said 
 Hope, who was excusably indignant. ' I dare- 
 say it will do me good to have heard what is
 
 norE IS TOLD THE TRUTH 211 
 
 the impression that I produce upon a total 
 stranger. But I think you are needlessly 
 alarmed on your friend's account. Both he 
 and I are perfectly free, as it happens, and if 
 you will only repeat some of the amiable 
 things that you have been saying about me to 
 him, no doubt he will give up all idea of 
 throwing himself away upon me.' 
 
 Hope was too angry to turn her eyes to- 
 wards her neighbour. Had she done so, she 
 would have been privileged to behold a man 
 of the world, an ex-Member of Parhament, 
 and an intrepid hunter, looking as great a fool 
 as it is possible for any mortal to look. 
 
 ' Good gracious ! ' he exclaimed, in accents 
 of heartfelt distress ; ' what a frightful mistake 
 I have made ! I never for a moment sup- 
 posed that you were the lady ; I thought, of 
 course, it was your cousin. It was Lady Jane 
 who misled me ; she was so oracular about it. 
 I am afraid you will never forgive me. Miss 
 Lefroy.' 
 
 Hope could have forgiven him more easily 
 if she could have pardoned herself. How
 
 212 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 could slie have been so foolish as to let out 
 the very thing that she was most anxious to 
 conceal ! How could she have supposed that 
 Mr. Francis, or any other casual acquaintance, 
 would tell her to her face that she was empty- 
 headed and selfish ! 
 
 ' The best plan is to say no more about it/ 
 she answered, not over-graciously. ' It is a 
 great pity that Aunt Jane cannot keep any- 
 thing to herself. I am sorry you have such a 
 bad opinion of poor Gertrude. But, perhaps, 
 after all, you only meant that you did not 
 wish your friend to marry anybody.' 
 
 And then she turned away from him and 
 began to talk to an old gentleman who was 
 seated on tlie other side of her. 
 
 Hope had no further conversation with 
 Mr. Francis that evening ; but his words re- 
 mained in her mind and rankled there. If 
 what he had said applied to Gertrude, it ap- 
 plied with quite equal force to herself; and 
 after everybody had gone away she summoned 
 up all her courage, drew her aunt into one of 
 the empty rooms, and said : ' Aunt Jane, I
 
 UOPE IS TOLD TUE TEUTII 213 
 
 want to tell you that I have quite made up 
 my mind not to marry ^Mr. Herbert.' 
 
 Poor Lady Jane fairly lost patience. ' It 
 appears to me, Hope/ she exclaimed, ' that 
 there is only one thing about which you have 
 made up your mind, and that is to cause as 
 much distress as you can to everybody. I 
 shall not interfere. When Dick Herbert 
 comes you and he must settle it between you. 
 But I must say that for a girl who professes 
 such extreme reluctance to be dependent upon 
 her relations you are singularly unwilhng to 
 take an excellent opportunity of relieving 
 them from all responsibihty for your vagaries.' 
 
 And with that Lady Jane clutched her 
 bedroom candlestick, and marched majesti- 
 cally upstairs. 
 
 The good lady — for she was really good 
 and wished no harm to any living creature — 
 was sorry afterwards that she had spoken so 
 sharply; but she did not think it necessary to 
 retract her words, nor, perhaps, even if she 
 had done so, would her niece have been able 
 to forget them.
 
 214 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 Early the next day Hope escaped to Tris- 
 tram's studio. The maid who had been told 
 oiF to accompany her since her removal to 
 Eaton Square could not be spared that morn- 
 ing, she was informed ; so she broke through 
 regulations for once, and, without saying a 
 word to anybody, went off alone. But when 
 she reached her destination she found that 
 she could do nothing. Her trembling fingers 
 refused to obey her, and j)resently she sank 
 down upon a chair, saying : ' It is no good ; I 
 am too tired.' 
 
 ' What is the matter with you ? ' asked 
 Tristram, who had stationed himself beside 
 her easel. 
 
 Hope was very nearly bursting into tears 
 outright. However, she swallowed down the 
 lump in her throat, and answered : ' Nothing 
 is the matter — at least, everything is the 
 matter. Mr. Tristram, I can't bear it any 
 longer ; I must be put out of my pain. I am 
 sure you can tell me now. Is there any 
 chance ? ' 
 
 Tristram's long, bony fingers twisted them-
 
 lIOrE IS TOLD THE TRUTH 215 
 
 selves into his beard. He gazed at his ques- 
 tioner, and made no articulate reply ; but 
 every second of silence was a reply to her, 
 falling like lead upon her heart. 
 
 ' Xo,' he burst out roudilv at last ; ' there 
 is no chance.' Then he spun round on his 
 heels, walked away to the windovr, and re- 
 mained there, looking out at the grey sky and 
 the bare, blackened trees. 
 
 Probably there are few people who have 
 not, at one time or another, received some 
 such answer as this. We have waited, per- 
 haps, through long weeks, hoping against 
 hope, for news of the missing ship ; we have 
 scanned the doctor's face, it may be, day after 
 day, not daring to put into words the question 
 that has been trembhng upon our Hps. And 
 then, all of a sudden, the blow falls. It is an 
 odd sensation, and is seldom what we expected 
 it to be. The worst has happened that can 
 happen. It is all over ; the very suffering 
 itself is over, only the memory of it remaining. 
 Whether we know it or not, the recuperative 
 forces of nature set to work instantly to con-
 
 216 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 sole us, and what people call despair is very 
 often only another word for peace. The first 
 thing that Hope was conscious of, after a 
 minute of dizziness and bewilderment, was 
 that she w^as very sorry for the good friend 
 who had been forced to deal so cruelly with 
 her. 
 
 'Never mind,' she said, 'you have done 
 your best.' 
 
 That great baby Tristram turned to her 
 with his features distorted into a grotesque 
 grimace and tears in his eyes. He began to 
 speak loudly and hurriedly, his words jostling 
 one another. ' I had to tell you — what could 
 I say ? You have not genius, and w^ithout 
 genius you cannot — in your position — take 
 up Art as a trade. It was better that you 
 should be told. I know — don't trouble to 
 explain — I understand it all. You have had 
 a dream, and it can't come true. Heaven 
 help us ! we all have dreams, and all have to 
 wake out of them, some in one way, some in 
 another. What a world w^e live in ! — and 
 what helpless wretches we are ! All this be-
 
 HOPE IS TOLD THE TRUTH 217 
 
 cause a man as rich as Croesus takes it into 
 his head one day to buy a few shares in an 
 infernal unhmited bank ! If anyone wants 
 proof of the intervention of Providence, there 
 it is for him. Don't tell me that these thinfrs 
 
 o 
 
 happen l)y bhnd chance. Why they should 
 ever happen at all — but what is the good of 
 talking ? Courage ! courage ! don't let that 
 devil of a thing that they call hfe beat you. 
 Fifjht it out. Look at me : I have been 
 through worse trouble than you have known 
 or ever vriU know, I trust ; and yet here I 
 am, alive and well and happy — yes, happy, in 
 spite of all. I have felt hke cutting my 
 throat more than once ; there have been days 
 when I thought I could not liold out any 
 longer, and must knock under. Even when 
 the worst was over, I had to contend against 
 poverty and stupidity and the malevolence of 
 those cursed critics ' He went on con- 
 fusedly referring to the miseries of his past 
 life, half forgetting his hearer's troubles in the 
 remembrance of his own ; but that he could 
 not help : it was his nature to view the world
 
 218 A BACHELORS ELUXDEll 
 
 and all events that took place therein sub- 
 jectively. 
 
 After a time he recollected himself, grew 
 calmer, and sat down beside the girl, taking 
 both her listless hands in liis strong ones. 
 ' Come now, Miss Hope,' lie said ; ' we must 
 not make a tragedy out of this. We don't 
 know what your life might have been like if 
 you had been able to make what you wished 
 of it ; it isn't certain that it would have been 
 liappy. I think a man who has creative 
 power, and wlio feels in him the love of 
 beauty, cannot be miserable ; but I don't 
 know about women ; their wants are not the 
 same as ours. Just now, what you are think- 
 insf of is the irksomeness of havino^ to live 
 witli people who don't suit you ; but that will 
 not last for ever. Perhaps it may come to 
 an end very soon.' 
 
 ' Yes, perhaps,' assented Hope. Presentl}^ 
 she added : ' Mr. Tristram, will you advise 
 me what to do ? You have always been so 
 kind, and I have no one else to consult, ex- 
 cept people who can't give an unprejudiced
 
 irOPE IS TOLD THE TKUTIT i?10 
 
 opinion.' And, without further preface, she 
 related to him the history of Herbert's ' offer 
 and of her provisional acceptance of it. 
 
 Tristram heard her out, making no com- 
 ment, and when she had finished said : ' I 
 think I would rather not advise you.' 
 
 ' I am not bound to follow your advice,' 
 answered Hope, smihng faintly. • Let me at 
 least know what you think.' 
 
 ' Well, then I will say to you what I 
 should say to my own daughter, if I had one. 
 I know something of Mr. Herbert, and all 
 that I know of him is in his favour. He is 
 no lono-er a very vouno- man : he has been 
 rich and his own master from his boyhood, 
 and he has never made a fool of himself in 
 any way. Erom what you tell me, and from 
 what I have heard from others, I should 
 think that he would be a kind husband. 
 There is no reason why you should not marry 
 him, and every reason why you should, 
 except one. My behef is tliat love — in the 
 sense of what is called being in love — is a 
 curse rather than a blessino-. At the best, it
 
 220 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 promotes selfishness, and at the worst, it 
 brings about jealousies and broken hearts and 
 all kinds of unhappiness. Marriages are 
 made without any regard to it in France, and 
 I never could see that French couples were at 
 all less attaclied to one another than English 
 couples. Indeed, family ties are far stronger 
 with them than with us. But I know per- 
 fectly well that all this doesn't and can't con- 
 vince you. Nature has the same method 
 with all young creatures, and an old fellow's 
 experience has no chance against her. I am 
 afraid I cannot be of much service to you in 
 this matter.' 
 
 ' But it comes to this,' said Hope, after 
 pondering for awhile, ' that you do advise me 
 to marry Mr. Herbert.' 
 
 ' Yes, I won't shirk the responsibility ; it 
 is what I should advise. But I may be quite 
 wrong. My mind is warped — I have suffered 
 too much ' 
 
 He rose and took a turn or two up and 
 down the room. ' One thing,' he said, ' I 
 may tell you, for your comfort; though you
 
 HOPE IS TOLD THE TRUTH 221 
 
 have not genius, you have talent, and plenty 
 of it. Painting will always be a resource and 
 a consolation to you, whatever happens. 
 Nothing can rob you of that.' 
 
 But perhaps this seemed rather cold com- 
 fort to Hope, who made no rejoinder while 
 she put on her hat and jacket. 
 
 Tristram accompanied her to the outer 
 door and held her hand for a minute, saying 
 ' God bless you ! ' when she bade him good- 
 bye. It was tacitly understood between them 
 that she would return no more to the studio 
 in w^hich she had spent so many happy, san- 
 fTuine hours. 
 
 o
 
 A BACHELORS ELUXDEll 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 LADY JAIs'E IS MADE HAPrY. 
 
 The wedding of Lord Middleborough, an 
 event of some magnitude in its way, took 
 place immediately after Easter. The cere- 
 mony, in accordance with a custom recently 
 introduced, was performed in the afternoon, 
 and was graced by the presence of as many 
 dukes, duchesses, cabinet ministers, ex- 
 cabinet ministers, foreign ambassadors, and 
 social celebrities as the eye of a fond mother 
 could wish to rest upon. So large was the 
 throng of invited guests that, when these had 
 been marshalled to their places, and the 
 claims of the representatives of the press had 
 been attended to, there was not much room 
 left for the British public, which had assem- 
 bled in o^reat force, as it always does at such
 
 LADY J AXE IS MADE HAPrV 223 
 
 times, and which, for the most part, had to 
 content itself with waiting outside in a bitter 
 east wind and admiring the gay clothing of 
 the ladies, as they hurried across the strip of 
 red carpet from their carriages to the church. 
 The bride, a rather pretty httle blue-eyed 
 w^oman, was honoured by a general murmur 
 of approbation ; the bridesmaids also were 
 pronounced worthy, both in person and in 
 costume, of the occasion ; but perhaps the 
 most unequivocal success of the day was 
 obtained by the tall, pale girl, dressed in 
 French grey, who, if she had been listening, 
 might have heard herself described by an 
 appreciative butcher's-boy as ' a i^eal beauty ' 
 — which expression of opinion was instantly 
 confirmed by the bystanders. Kor was it 
 only among the plebeian herd upon the pave- 
 ment that the appearance of this lady caused 
 a momentary sensation. The more critical 
 assemblage within the building did not fail 
 to remark her dehcate, high-bred features, 
 the graceful carriage of her head, and her 
 large and rather sorrowful grey eyes. The
 
 224 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 majority, not knowing who she was, whispered 
 inquiries about her, and those who did know 
 rephed : ' Oh, that is Miss Lefroy, the daughter 
 of the late man. Lost a hu^e fortune in the 
 Central Endand Bank smash,' which j^fene 
 rally elicited a murmur of ' Poor thing ! no 
 wonder she looks so sad.' 
 
 A few well-informed persons mentioned a 
 rumour that she was about to be married to 
 ' that queer fellow, Dick Herbert ' ; and this 
 greatly increased the curiosity with which she 
 was regarded ; for women of all ranks, ages, 
 and dispositions are interested in a marriage, 
 and especial interest would attach to that of 
 Dick Herbert — not so much because he was a 
 ' queer fellow,' as because he was so rich, and 
 had been for such a number of years an 
 ostensible bachelor, that nine people out of 
 ten believed him to have a wife somewhere 
 who was not presentable. 
 
 Hope was entirely unconscious of being 
 noticed or discussed, and even if she had 
 heard what was being said about her she 
 would not have cared much. The days Avhen
 
 LADY JAXE IS MADE HAPPY C25 
 
 the coupling of her name witli Herbert's 
 would have brought a flush of anger into her 
 cheeks were past and gone ; it was very hkely 
 — more Hkely than not, now — that her name 
 would be permanently coupled with his. No 
 further direct pressure had been brought to 
 bear upon her either by her uncle or by Lady 
 Jane ; but in a hundred little ways the con- 
 viction had been brought home to her that, if 
 she threw away this chance, the reproaches 
 heaped upon her would be greater than she 
 would be able to bear. Since Tristram had 
 swept away her dream of life into space, she 
 had grown apathetic about the future, which 
 seemed to hold no golden promises for her ; 
 she had not definitely decided what she would 
 do ; but she knew very well that Herbert 
 would say something to her that day, and she 
 was disposed to abide by his judgment, what- 
 ever it might be. She could see him on the 
 opposite side of the church, towering a head 
 above his neighbours ; she watched him Avhile 
 the choir sang ' The voice that breathed o'er 
 Eden,' and while the Bishop, assisted by his 
 Vol. I. Q
 
 226 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 satellites, proceeded with tlie form of words 
 which was to convert Alice Lefroy into a 
 viscountess. Once their eyes met, and he 
 smiled. He had a kindly, pleasant, honest 
 sort of face. ' I don't think he will beat me, 
 at all events,' Hope said to herself, with some- 
 thing between an incipient laugh and a sob in 
 her throat. 
 
 Well, it would soon be over now ; she 
 would soon knoAV her fate; and it would be 
 something to have done with indecision. 
 Time, plodding on with even steps, brought 
 her nearer and nearer to the moment which 
 she half dreaded and half wished for. The 
 ceremony was concluded ; the crowd — not 
 quite so large a one as had been present at 
 the church — repaired to Eaton Square to 
 inspect the wedding presents, and gradually 
 melted away ; the bride and bridegroom, 
 being possessed of three large houses of their 
 own, drove off to spend the honeymoon in one 
 belonoinor to a relative, which had been lent 
 them for that purpose ; Hope was standing 
 alone in a small morning-room, looking out of
 
 LADY JAXE IS MADE HAPPY 227 
 
 the window and waitinfr for tlie sound of an 
 approaching footstep, which she expected 
 every instant to hear. 
 
 She had already shaken hands with Her- 
 bert, but only a few words had passed between 
 thera, and it was hardly to be supposed that 
 he would go away without a longer interview. 
 He did not, however, seem inchned to hurry 
 himself, and Hope was rather angry with him 
 for keeping her waiting. She could hear 
 voices and laughter downstairs, where, no 
 doubt, he was engaged in conversation with 
 the rest of the family, and she could fancy it 
 all — !Mr. Lefroy rubbing his hands and saying, 
 ' Thank goodness that is over ! ' — Gertrude 
 reporting some acrimonious speech of Lady 
 Chatterton's ; Lady Jane smiling contentedly, 
 and exclaiming, all of a sudden : • Dear me ! 
 where can Hope be ? I wish you would go 
 and see what has become of her, Dick ' — and 
 then a slow, dehberate step mounting the 
 stairs. Oh, why didn't they make haste and 
 get it all ended ! 
 
 In reality, her suspense was not prolonged 
 
 u, 2
 
 228 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 for more than five minutes or so. She heard 
 the door opened and shut ; someone entered 
 the room and advanced until lie was close to 
 her elbow, and then, just for a second, a wild 
 notion took possession of her. Suppose it 
 should not be he? Suppose it should be — 
 somebody else? 
 
 But of course it was he ; and it was his 
 voice that was saying cheerfidly : ' Well, jow 
 didn't write to me, after all.' 
 
 'I had nothing to Avrite about,' answered 
 Hope, still looking out of the window. Her 
 hands were cold and damp, a sudden access 
 of nervousness had come upon her, and she 
 did not venture to look at him. 
 
 But he showed no consciousness of her 
 distress. ' I thought,' he said, ' that perhaps 
 you would let me know how you were getting 
 on. Is Mr. Tristram encouraging ? ' 
 
 Hope turned round and droj^ped into the 
 nearest chair. 'No,' she answered; 'I have 
 not got on at all ; I never shall get on now. 
 Haven't you heard ? Didn't they tell you?' 
 Then, recollecting herself, ' But of course they
 
 LADY JAXE IS MADE HAPPY 229 
 
 could not. I did not mention it to them, and 
 no one has ever asked me about it. I suppose 
 they knew all along that I should fail.' 
 
 She glanced at him to see whether he 
 showed any sign of surprise, or pleasure or 
 regret ; but his face expressed nothing at all. 
 
 ' Isn't it rather too soon to despair ? ' was 
 liis onl}' comment. 
 
 ' Mr. Tristram says not. He told me that 
 I had no chance whatever.' 
 
 ' What a brute ! ' 
 
 ' He is the best fiiend that I have in the 
 world. I asked him to tell me the truth, and 
 I was very glad that he told it me without 
 phrases.' 
 
 ' And what are you going to do now ? ' 
 Herbert asked, after a pause. 
 
 ' I don't know,' answered Hope. 
 
 Presently she glanced up at him again and 
 saw that he Avas sorry for her. He certainly 
 looked very kind ; but it is never quite 
 pleasant to be pitied. ' Since I can't have 
 what I want, I must do without it, that is all,' 
 she remarked rather brusquely.
 
 230 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 There was notliing to be urged against 
 so self-evident a proposition ; but Herbert 
 was able to put forward another equally in- 
 disputable. ' When one has got what one 
 wants, one doesn't always like it,' he observed. 
 And, obtaining no response, he went on : 
 ' Now, about the alternative suggestion that 
 I made to you — have you thought any more 
 of it?' 
 
 ' Of course I have thought of it,' Hope 
 answered slowly. 
 
 ' And you don't much fancy it ? ' 
 
 ' I hardly know what to say. I can't feel 
 about marriage as you and everybody else 
 seem to feel. Mr. Herbert, do you think we 
 ought to marry, not caring in the least for one 
 another ? ' 
 
 ' The case is not quite so bad as that, is 
 it ? Our understanding was that it wouldn't 
 be a love-match. Surely that doesn't exclude 
 affection.' 
 
 That passing sensation of wonder and re- 
 sentment which Hope had felt once before 
 swept over her again, as she raised her eyes
 
 LADY JAXE IS MADE HAPPY 231 
 
 to his frank, good-tempered face. She did 
 not wish him to be in love with ]ier : but at 
 the same time it was a httle stran<?e and a 
 little unflattering that he should be so entirely 
 free from any idea of such a thing. ' It does 
 not exclude affection, of course,' she agreed ; 
 ' only sometimes I am afraid — but perhaps I 
 may be mistaken. If you are content to have 
 it so, I am.' 
 
 ' That's all rigfht ; then we'll consider it 
 settled,' said he, with a cheerful air of rehef. 
 ' It won't be my fault if you ever repent of 
 your bargain. I shall remember my promise : 
 you will have your own way and live your 
 own life, and whenever you find me a bore 
 you wiU only have to say so, and I'll take 
 myself off. I'm always ready to book my 
 passage for the other side of the world at a 
 moment's notice. Do you hke yachting ? ' 
 
 Hope shook her head. ' I hate the sea.' 
 
 ' Well, I love it ; so that you can count 
 upon being rid of me for a good part of the 
 summer, at all events.' 
 
 ' And Mr. Francis will keep you company,
 
 232 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 I suppose/ said Hope, laughing a little, though 
 she did not feel very merry. ' Do you know 
 that I met your friend Mr. Francis a short 
 time ago ? He gave me quite a new view of 
 your character.' 
 
 ' Oh, he did, did he ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; he had heard a report that you 
 were going to be married, and he was very 
 much annoyed and rather rude about it. He 
 said you were the last man in the world who 
 ought to make a marriage of convenience, 
 that nobody was good enough for you, and 
 that unless your wife could share your tastes 
 — does that mean taking long cruises without 
 being sea-sick ? — she would spoil your hfe.' 
 
 'Francis is an ass,' remarked Herbert 
 placidly. 
 
 ' He did not strike me as being that.' 
 
 ' He is though — a clever ass ; there are 
 lots of them about. I am a stupid ass if you 
 like ; but I do know what I want.' 
 
 ' Why should you want this ? ' exclaimed 
 Hope. ' I cannot understand why you should 
 want it ! '
 
 LADY JAXE IS MADE HAPrY 233 
 
 ' I thought I had told you down at Hel- 
 ston. But, never mmd, I am not afraid of 
 the result.' 
 
 Hope, however, was a good deal afraid. 
 She got up and moved restlessly about the 
 room. All her life long, until recently, she 
 had been accustomed to be loved ; she was 
 not sure of herself and did not know ^vhat 
 she might become if in future she was only to 
 be tolerated. Perhaps it was not very digni- 
 fied ; but an impulse which she could not 
 resist prompted her to pause suddenly beside 
 the man who — whether he admitted it or 
 not — must control her destiny. ' You will 
 be good to me, w^on't you ? ' she murmured 
 appealingly. 
 
 What could anyone say or do in answer 
 to such a question ? Herbert rose and took 
 possession of her hands. ' My dear,' he said 
 kindly, ' you may trust me for that.' And 
 then he bent down and kissed her forehead. 
 
 If he thought such an action natural and 
 permissible under the circumstances, it was 
 because he really knew very httle of the
 
 234 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 queer nature of women. Hope started away 
 from him, flushing painfully. 
 
 ' You must not do that 1 ' she cried, with 
 tears in her voice. ' There must be nothing 
 — notliing of that kind. I thought at least 
 we were to have no pretence ! ' 
 
 Herbert looked considerably crestfallen, 
 and a tinge of colour found its way also into 
 his sunburnt cheek. ' I beg your pardon,' he 
 said, humbly ; ' I will not offend you in that 
 way again. I fancied ' 
 
 ' You fancied that it was the j)roper thing 
 to do,' she interrupted, ' but it is not ; and 
 
 your having fancied so only shows Oh, I 
 
 don't think I can marry you ! I don't think 
 I can ! ' she concluded, sinking down into her 
 chair again. 
 
 Yet even while she said this she felt that 
 she had gone too far now to recede, and he 
 had not much difficulty in making his peace 
 with her. Only she was very urgent upon 
 the point of there being no ' make-beheve ' 
 between them, and as to this he declared 
 himself to be quite of one mind with her.
 
 LADY JAXE IS MADE IIArPY 235 
 
 ' You kno^v, I always told you that iu my 
 opiniou the oue importaut thmg is to start 
 fair,' he said. * If we are only honest with 
 one another we are sure to u'et on all riofht. 
 I want you, if you will, to tell me everything, 
 without bothering yourself to consider wliether 
 it will hurt my feelings or not. I always hke 
 to hear the truth, pleasant or unpleasant.' 
 
 ' I think I may promise that,' Hope an- 
 swered meditatively. ' I have told you nothing 
 but the truth, so far ; you know all that there 
 is to know about me. And I will try not to 
 spoil your hfe,' she added, with a shght smile. 
 
 ' Xo fear of that. We thoroughly under- 
 stand one another now. 'We are not lovers ; 
 we are two friends who are going to set up 
 house together, isn't that it ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; that is it,' rephed Hope. 
 
 And, having committed themselves to the 
 above absurd and utterly impracticable scheme 
 of existence, these two fools went downstaii's 
 to make it known, being well aware that 
 only the warmest congratulations awaited the 
 announcement of their folly.
 
 236 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 Nothing, indeed, could have been more 
 genuine or more heartily expressed than the 
 contentment of Mr. Lefroy and Lady Jane. 
 The cloud which had arisen of late between 
 them and their niece was at once and for ever 
 dispelled ; Herbert, who had to catch a train, 
 soon went away; and hardly had the door 
 closed behind him before Lady Jane began to 
 contemplate arrangements for a second matri- 
 monial function. 
 
 ' It can hardly take place before the end 
 of the season,' she said. ' There will be the 
 trousseau to be provided, and I should think 
 most likely he will want to re-furnish Farn- 
 don. I haven't seen the place for a long time ; 
 but when I was there last it looked as if it 
 wanted a great deal doing to it. I wonder 
 whether his sister will go on living there. I 
 suppose she must ; and yet I am not sure that 
 she will, for she is an independent sort of girl, 
 and she has money of her own. No doubt 
 she will marry before long. Somebody said 
 something about that Cunningham boy having 
 paid her a good deal of attention. It would
 
 LADY JAXE IS MADE HAPPY 237 
 
 be a good match for liim ; but I don't 
 know ' 
 
 ' Oh, Aunt Jane,' interrupted Hope, ' do 
 let us try to talk about anything in the world 
 for the next few months except marrying and 
 giving in marriage ! ' 
 
 But that was the last faint symptom of 
 revolt that escaped lier. As the days went 
 on she became reconciled to her lot, and saw 
 that it might have been a worse one. Happi- 
 ness, slie kept on saying to herself, is not 
 everything ; and, besides, tliere are many 
 kmds of happiness. One kind, certainly, 
 might be derived from having satisfied every- 
 body. When one has fought and has been 
 beaten, it is a consolation to be kindly and 
 generously treated by the conquerors ; and on 
 this score Hope had no cause for complaint. 
 She might, had slie been so minded, have 
 gone to Tristram's studio every day now, and 
 Lady Jane's maid would never have been too 
 busy to accompany her ; her uncle troubled 
 himself more than once to gratify her love 
 of art by taking her to one of the picture
 
 238 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 galleries ; laer aunt never pressed her to do 
 anything that she did not like, nor quarrelled 
 with her for declining to go out into the world. 
 These may not have been very important 
 concessions, but, such as tliey were, she was 
 grateful for them. She recognised the fact 
 that she had reached the end of a chapter in 
 her life, and appreciated the consideration 
 which allowed her to pause before opening a 
 fresh one.
 
 239 
 
 CHAPTEE Xin. 
 
 JACOB STILES. 
 
 It can liardly be expected that tlie reader 
 will recollect a passing allusion once made by 
 ]\Ir. Herbert to a certain young protege of his 
 named Jacob Stiles. The fact is that 'Mr. 
 Herbert was not very fond of alluding to this 
 youth, whose benefactor he had been, havinor 
 reasons for keeping silence about him besides 
 those which modesty must always impose upon 
 the truly charitable. 
 
 Jacob Stiles, as his name (which was a 
 source of deep grief to him) almost seemed 
 to imply, was an object of charity, and since 
 liis early childhood had never been anything 
 else. It had come to pass that, as Dick 
 Herbert was riding homewards one autumn 
 evening shortly after he had attained his
 
 240 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 majority — and consequently some fifteen years 
 before the date of the present narrative — his 
 path was abruptly stopped by a diminutive 
 urchin, who piped out : ' Oh, if you please, sir, 
 father said I was to arst you what's won the 
 Leger.' Dick, then, as always, a man of few 
 words, gave the desired information, glanced 
 curiously at his ragged, black-eyed little 
 questioner, and rode on. The incident might 
 have escaped his memory, had not the result 
 of that particular St. Leger brought about a 
 tragic occurrence of which he, in common 
 with the rest of the neighbourhood, was 
 speedily informed. This was the suicide of 
 one Stiles, a stranger in those parts, who had 
 recently been taken as a rough-rider into the 
 employment of a local horse-dealer, and who 
 was found hanrino* in his master's stables on 
 the morning after the race, with the follow- 
 ing brief confession in a pocket of his coat : 
 ' It's the Leger as done it. I don't want no 
 more of this life. Will some kind friend 
 please to save my poor httle lad from the 
 workus ? '
 
 JACOB STILES 241 
 
 This appeal found its ^vay to the some- 
 what soft heart of Dick Herbert. He sought 
 out the boy, found him in one of the cottages 
 in the village, recognised him as the same 
 whom he had encountered on the previous 
 evening, carried him off to Farndon Court to 
 be washed, fed, and comforted, and retained 
 him there with a view to discoverimx, as he 
 said, ' what could be made of him.' A great 
 many things might have been made of him, 
 for he proved to be one of the sharpest boys 
 that ever was known, but perhaps a judicious 
 person, remembering the proverb about silk 
 purses and sows' ears, would have reflected 
 that there were certain things into which he 
 could not possibly be turned. Dick Herbert 
 was only twenty-one at that time, and was not 
 quite as judicious as he subsequently became. 
 He was delighted with the httle fellow's 
 shrewd replies to his questions ; he was still 
 more dehghted to see with what tenacity that 
 atom could stick to a horse ; and when he 
 discovered that Jacob, in addition to his other 
 talents, could draw with a precision and spirit 
 
 Vol. I. E
 
 242 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 amazing in one of such tender years, he con- 
 cluded that, if ever there was a case in which 
 a thorough education would be a boon worth 
 bestowing, it was here. 
 
 This was all very well, but to remove the 
 boy entirely out of the station to which he 
 had been born was another affair. To do Dick 
 justice, he had at first no intention of falling 
 into any such error. He proposed to have his 
 protege educated, and then to give him a start 
 in whatever trade he mi^^ht seem to be best 
 fitted for. But there were difficulties in the 
 way of carrying out this sensible programme. 
 Jacob learnt with surprising rapidity ; in 
 everything that he undertook he excelled ; as 
 he grew older he manifested a decided dislike 
 to associating with the servants, who, on their 
 side, cordially reciprocated his sentiments. 
 Thus it came about that, wdien he was at 
 Farndon for the holidays, he spent most of his 
 time in the company of his patron (who pre- 
 ferred not to be called his master), and was 
 made a great deal of by his patron's bachelor 
 friends.
 
 JACOB STILES 243 
 
 Farndon Court was then a house in which 
 only bachelors and married men on leave of 
 absence were to be met ; for old Mrs. Herbert, 
 who was still ahve, dwelt at a watering-place 
 in the West of England, the chmate of Berk- 
 shire not agreeing Avith her health. One may 
 conjecture that had any lady presided over 
 Dick's household that clever young outcast, 
 Jacob Stiles, would not have been permitted 
 to dine A^ath his betters, and adjourn to the 
 bilhard-room or the smoking-room with them 
 later in tlie evening. But if the lad got any 
 harm from such associations it was not ap- 
 parent upon the surface. His schoolmasters 
 gave glowing reports of him ; his career was 
 decided upon ; he was in due time to become 
 an artist, and there was every ground for 
 behevincf that he would also become a sue- 
 cessful one. Whence he derived his pictorial 
 skill was a mystery of which his defective 
 pedigree could afford no solution ; but a very 
 simple application of the law of inheritance 
 sufficed to account for his ureat love and 
 knowledize of horses ; and it must be owned 
 
 b2
 
 944 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 that this endeared him to Dick more than all 
 his other gifts put together. Mr. Herbert 
 can hardly be said to have been at any time 
 npon the turf; but he usually had one or two 
 animals in training, and he kept a few brood- 
 mares with a view to raising thoroughbred 
 stock. Now Jacob's eye for a horse was 
 nothing short of marvellous. Not only was 
 his opinion invaluable as regarded the pur- 
 chase of yearlings, but he could tell, almost 
 at a glance, whether a foal would ever come 
 to anything or not. ' Confound the boy ! he 
 can't make a mistake ! ' Dick would exclaim, 
 admiringly. 
 
 He himself, however, was quite capable of 
 making mistakes, and he made a very serious 
 one when he fell into the habit of taking this 
 admirable judge with him to the principal 
 race-meetings. It was an innocent pleasure, 
 Dick thought ; and in his case it certainly 
 was so. He did not bet, and was careful to 
 warn his young companion solemnly against 
 that fatal practice. Notwithstanding this ad- 
 monition, Jacob did bet — possibly that, too,
 
 JACOB STILES 245 
 
 was a damnosa hcereditas which it was hard 
 for him to resist — and the worst of it was 
 that he liad to bet on the sly. Unluckily for 
 him his ventures were not only successful but 
 were never found out ; this form of gambling 
 became a passion with him, and ]\Ir. Herbert's 
 prolonged absences from home afforded him 
 opportunities of indulging in it by which 
 he was not slow to profit. His conscience 
 did not fail to reproach him for so doing ; 
 but self-reproach is seldom of much value as 
 a curb. 
 
 When Jacob was nineteen years of age, 
 Nemesis, in the shape of a disastrous Ascot 
 week, overtook him, in company with many 
 others of higher social position. His money 
 was all spent ; settling-day was near, and he 
 was at his wits' end. One morning: he saw 
 Dick Herbert's cheque-book lying upon the 
 library table ; he hastily tore a scrap of paper 
 out of it and scribbled thereon an imitation of 
 that imprudent gentleman's signature which 
 would have been more exact if his fincrers had 
 not trembled so much. How could he have
 
 246 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 supposed that so foolish a fraud would escape 
 detection ? He may have counted upon Dick's 
 well-known carelessness in money-matters ; 
 but it is more likely that he yielded to tempta- 
 tion in one of those moments of terror and 
 bewilderment which are taken into considera- 
 tion by merciful jurymen when they return a 
 verdict of ' suicide while in an unsound state 
 of mind.' He took the cheque into Windsor, 
 had it cashed by a clerk, and the very next day 
 Mr. Herbert received a note from the manager 
 of the bank, requesting him to call at his 
 earliest convenience. 
 
 When Dick, in obedience to this summons, 
 entered the manager's private room, that 
 functionary, with a very grave face, regretted 
 to inform him that a cheque for 200/. — an 
 obvious forgery, purporting to bear his sig- 
 nature — had been presented across the counter 
 and inadvertently honoured by one of the 
 clerks. ' And I am very sorry to add, Mr. 
 Herbert, that the money was paid to the 
 young man Stiles.' 
 
 ' Oh, indeed ! ' said Dick. ' Let's have a
 
 JACOB STILES 24/ 
 
 look at it.' And, after examining the paper — 
 ' So that's what you call a forgery ? ' 
 
 ' Surely, Mr. Herbert, you must see that 
 it is.' 
 
 ' Oh, no,' answered Dick ; ' don't see it at 
 all. Why should it be a forgeiy? ''E. N. 
 Herbert " — that's the way I always sign, isn't 
 it?' 
 
 ' Mr. Herbert, do I understand you to re- 
 cognise this as your signature ? ' inquired the 
 manager solemnly. 
 
 Dick nodded ; and then the manager stared 
 at him, and he stared at the manager ; and 
 the latter said no more, but thought a good 
 deal. ' Would it not be well, Mr. Herbert, 
 that in future we should supply you with 
 cheques made payable to Order and not to 
 Bearer ? ' was his only remark, as his visitor 
 rose. 
 
 Dick answered ' Yes, if you like,' picked 
 up the cheque and rode home. 
 
 As he was dismounting from his horse he 
 caught sight of Jacob, hailed him, led him 
 into the library, and producing that terrible
 
 24S A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 slip of blue paper, held it up before his eyes. 
 * Your writing, I presume ? ' he remarked, 
 laconically. 
 
 The unfortunate criminal could not get out 
 a word of reply. His knees trembled under 
 him, he turned -pale, and a cold sweat broke 
 out upon his forehead. Herbert had his 
 hunting-croj^ in his hand. 
 
 ' Jake,' he said, quietly, ' I'm going to give 
 you a thrashing.' And without more ado 
 he caught the young man by the collar and 
 administered the punishment alluded to with 
 the utmost vigour of a powerful right arm. 
 
 Jacob never uttered a word or a ixroan. 
 [t was no nominal thrashinn^ that was inflicted 
 upon him ; but perhaps he did not care about 
 the pain. When it was over, he had just 
 strength enough left to crawl away to his 
 room and hide himself. He richly deserved 
 all that he had got, and was let off, upon the 
 whole, very cheaply. One must not venture 
 to claim sympathy for a man who rewards 
 innumerable kindnesses by forging his bene- 
 factor's name. We are all sinners and frankly
 
 JACOB STILES 249 
 
 admit as miicli once a week, if not oftener ; 
 we do things tliat we ought not to do, and 
 leave undone what we ought to do ; but as 
 for lying, thieving, and cheating — allons done ! 
 such mean offences are far beneath us, and 
 we have every right to despise those who 
 commit them. Perhaps so; but this poor 
 wretch was base-born, and may not have pos- 
 sessed our noble instincts. Possibly even for 
 him some allowance may be made by generous 
 minds. 
 
 Dick Herbert had a very generous mind ; 
 but there never hved a man to whom it was 
 less possible to make allowance for certain 
 sins. It may be tliat he held too exalted 
 views of the virtue of his fellow-creatures ; 
 at any rate, he trusted them implicitly until 
 they deceived him ; after which, no earthly 
 power could induce him to trust them a 
 second time. He had done his duty to Jacob 
 in administering to him a lesson not hkely to 
 be forgotten. When the offender came and 
 threw himself at his feet, in an agony of shame 
 and remorse, he freely forgave him, saying :
 
 250 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 'We will never mention tlie subject again;' 
 and he never did mention it again. But it 
 was no longer in his power either to esteem, 
 or to like the young fellow, nor was it in his 
 power to hide the contempt that he felt for 
 him. His kindness did not cease, but his 
 friendliness did ; and Jacob, who was as sen- 
 sitive as he was sharp, felt and appreciated 
 the distinction. 
 
 Whether the above catastrophe was the 
 making or the marring of Jacob's career must 
 remain an open question, since no one can 
 pronounce judgment upon what might have 
 been. It cured him at once and for ever of 
 betting ; he made a vow, and kept it, that the 
 ring should know him no more ; but it may 
 be said to have spoilt his temper, wdiich, per- 
 haps, was not naturally a sweet one. His hfe, 
 even when he was among his fellow art- 
 students, in London, was somewhat solitary ; 
 when he was at Farndon it was completely 
 so. He had his own rooms, and, as he showed 
 that he preferred to shut himself up, he was 
 not often asked to leave them. It is difficult
 
 JACOB STILES 251 
 
 for a man who lias been soundly horsewliipped 
 to conceal all traces of the fact ; and the 
 servants, who had never had any love for Jacob, 
 guessed what had happened to hhxi. If they 
 did not find out the exact truth, they arrived 
 at something not very far removed from it ; 
 and gave themselves the satisfaction of sneer- 
 ing at him in a way which he could not 
 resent. By one hasty, dishonourable act, he 
 had incurred permanent obloquy, and he knew 
 it. For years the dominant idea in his mind 
 was a sense of the cruel harshness of fate, 
 and of the injustice which took no account 
 of repentance. Then Mss Herbert came to 
 live at Farndon, and it was not his good for- 
 tune to commend himself favourably to ]\Iiss 
 Herbert, who alleged, with perfect truth, 
 that the young man had been placed in an 
 absurdly false position by her brother. 
 
 False or not, there was no remedy for it 
 now. He must remain where he was, until 
 his brush should bring him in a sufficient 
 income to enable him to set up his household 
 gods elsewhere ; and even when that wished-
 
 252 A BACHELOR S BLUNDER 
 
 for day came he would not be free — he never 
 could be free — from the weight of an immense 
 obligation. In the meantime, his conduct 
 continued to be exemplary, and his talent 
 was recognised by all competent judges. Am- 
 bition of a kind he had, but it was not a 
 hopeful kind of ambition. He developed into 
 a rather sullen and taciturn young man — 
 not a pleasant young man — possibly even a 
 dangerous one, it might be fancied, by the 
 look of him. Yet his thoughts were seldom 
 bad thoughts, only intensely bitter. His 
 feeling towards Herbert would be difficult to 
 define, and he certainly never attempted to 
 define it to himself. He admired the man, he 
 respected him ; he would have loved him if 
 things had fallen out differently. As it was, 
 there were certain moments when he felt as if 
 earth could afford him no greater joy than to 
 detect his benefactor in the commission of 
 some ignoble action. It will be perceived 
 that poor Jacob had great natural disadvan- 
 tages to contend against. 
 
 The httle station of Farndon Eoad is only
 
 JACOB STILES 253 
 
 about a mile and a lialf from Farndon Court, 
 and as Dick had not been sure how soon he 
 would be able to get away from Lord ^^liddle- 
 boroucfh's weddinnr, he had iiiven no orders 
 that he should be met. When he left the 
 train, however, he found Jacob Stiles waitincp 
 for him in a dog-cart, and was a little sur- 
 prised by a mark of attention which had been 
 frequent enough in the old days, but which 
 he had latterly ceased to look for. 
 
 ' Hallo, Jake ! ' he said, ' what brings you 
 down here ? ' 
 
 'I had to go into Windsor about some- 
 thing,' repHed the other, ' and I thought I 
 might as well drive round to tlie station, in 
 case you came down by this train.' 
 
 ' I intended to walk,' said Dick ; ' but 
 since you are here, I don't mind taking a Hft. 
 No ; you drive,' he added, as he climbed into 
 the dog-cart, and his companion handed him 
 the reins ; ' I'm going to smoke a cigarette.' 
 
 Jacob did as he was requested, and drove 
 on some little distance, before saying : ' I 
 wanted to tell vou that I have sold another
 
 254 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 picture.' He spoke with his eyes lowered, 
 which was a trick that he had. 
 
 ' Have you ? ' said Dick. ' Glad to hear it, 
 I hope you got a good price.' 
 
 ' Yes,' answered the other, ' I think so. I 
 think I got as much as it was worth.' 
 
 He had a slow, somewhat deprecating 
 method of enunciation, which, taken in con- 
 junction with his thin, pale cheeks, and his 
 habit of holding his head low, caused strangers 
 to think that he must either be very unhappy, 
 or be weighed down by some guilty secret — 
 an impression which, as we know, was toler- 
 ably correct. But for these peculiarities he 
 would have passed muster easily enough, 
 having a face which was rather handsome 
 than plain, and a well-knit, well-proportioned 
 figure. 
 
 ' The gentleman who bought that picture 
 has given me an order for two more,' he went 
 on, ' and I am to do some illustrations for the 
 " Grosvenor Magazine." ' 
 
 'Come, that's capital news. Did you 
 drive round to tell me about it, Jake ? '
 
 JACOB STILES 255 
 
 The young fellow raised his eyes — they 
 were very dark and very briUiant eyes — for 
 the first time, and shot a quick, sidelong 
 glance at his questioner. ' I thought you 
 would be glad to hear,' he answered. He 
 seemed as if he were o-oinix to say somethincr 
 more, but apparently changed his mind, and, 
 drawing the whip gently across the horse's 
 flanks, slightly increased the pace at which 
 they were moving. 
 
 ' By-the-way,' observed Dick presently, * I 
 have got a piece of news too. I'm going to 
 be married.' 
 
 This time Jacob's eyes were opened to 
 their utmost extent, and were turned full upon 
 Dick's face, which remained impassive. ' To 
 be married ? You ! ' he exclaimed. ' Do you 
 really mean it ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, yes ; I have been thinking about it 
 for some time past. It is a !Miss Lefroy ; 
 not a sister of Lady ILiddleborough's — her 
 cousin. You and she ought to become friends, 
 I should think ; for she takes a great interest 
 in art, and paints hke a professional.'
 
 256 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 Jacob smiled very slightly ; lie may have 
 been thinking that neither the future Mrs. 
 Herbert nor any other lady was at all likely 
 to make friends with him. From dwelling so 
 continually upon one thought, he had come 
 to have a morbid conviction that he looked 
 like a forger, and that everybody must sus- 
 pect him of being one. Presently he said in 
 a formal, hesitating wa}^ as if he were re- 
 peating a speech previously learnt by heart : 
 'I am very glad that you are going to be 
 married at last. I hope 3^ou will be as happy 
 as you deserve to be.' 
 
 ' Thanks,' answered Dick briefly. After a 
 minute or two he asked : ' Did you happen to 
 take a look at the Electricity foal to-day ? ' 
 
 'Yes. I don't much fancy him myself; 
 but Miss Herbert thinks he will be the best 
 one w^e ever bred. She arrived just before 
 luncheon. I suppose you knew that she was 
 coming ? ' 
 
 'No, by George! I didn't,' rephed Dick, 
 looking a trifle perturbed. ' The last time I 
 heard from her she said she wouldn't be here
 
 JACOB STILES 257 
 
 for another fortnight. I rather suspect, you 
 know,' he went on musingly, ' that Carry won't 
 altogether like this. In fact, I'm sure she 
 won't Kke it. If you come to that, it would 
 be ridiculous to expect her to like it.' 
 
 These remarks partook so much of the 
 nature of a soliloquy, that Jacob did not feel 
 called upon to make any response to them, 
 and nothing more was said until they reached 
 the hall door, where ^liss Herbert, who had 
 been out riding, happened at that moment to 
 be dismounting from her horse. 
 
 She was a tall, dark, well-made woman, 
 who looked both young and handsome in her 
 riding habit, but who, under other circum- 
 stances, was quite evidently thirty years of 
 ag^e. She resembled her brother in nothing: 
 at all, except in a certain abruptness of speech, 
 and was far less universally popular than he. 
 Xevertheless, she had a very large acquaint- 
 ance, and was said to have refused many 
 eligible suitors. She had a considerable for- 
 tune of her own. 
 
 ' Well, Carry,' said Dick as he descended 
 
 Vol. I. S
 
 258 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 from the clog-eart, ' so liere you are again. 
 Where are you from last ? ' 
 
 He did not pay much attention to her 
 reply, but walked up the steps beside her, and, 
 with his usual promptitude in coming to the 
 point, said : ' I have something to tell you. 
 I am p'oinc^ to be married in the course of the 
 summer, to Hope Lefroy, the niece of the 
 Helston Abbey man.' 
 
 ^ As I have never set eyes on the girl,' 
 observed Miss Herbert, without any manifesta- 
 tion of surprise, ' I can't tell whether to con- 
 gratulate you or not.' 
 
 'You may congratulate me. And I say, 
 Carry, I should like you two to be friends, if 
 you could manage it.' 
 
 ' I doubt whether we shall be able to 
 manage it. Do you recollect ever to have 
 come across a case of sisters-in-law living in 
 the same house who were friends ? I don't.' 
 
 'Well, let us try to make yours an ex- 
 ceptional case.' 
 
 They had entered the drawing-room by 
 this time. Miss Herbert had seated herself in
 
 JACOB STILES 2o9 
 
 an arm-chair and had Laid her gloves and whip 
 down on the tea-table at her elbow. Dick 
 leant with his shoulders against the mantel- 
 piece and his hands in his pockets. 
 
 ' You are bound to see a o-ood deal of one 
 another,' he continued, ' and you knoAv, Carry, 
 you are an infernally disagreeable woman 
 sometimes. You don't mind ni}- SJ^yhig so, do 
 you ? ' 
 
 ' I am sure you would not be deterred 
 from saying so by such a trifle as my objecting 
 to be called infernally disagreeable.' 
 
 ' Ah, but you can be infernally agreeable 
 too, if you like. I wish you would take it 
 into your head to be agreeable to her.' 
 
 ' ^ly dear Dick, I hope I am not so silly 
 or so ill-bred as to quarrel with your wife ; 
 but if you expect to see us tripping out of the 
 dining-room after dinner with our arms twined 
 round each other's waists, you had better 
 prepare yourself for a disappointment. De- 
 monstrations of that kind must be undertaken 
 by you.' 
 
 Dick laughed. ' There won't be any 
 
 s3
 
 2G0 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 demonstrations of tliat kind ; don't be alarmed. 
 We shall be a very sensible matter-of-fact 
 couple, and we have no intention of going in 
 for love-making. Besides, I daresay I shall 
 be away from home pretty often.' 
 
 ' Oh, you have already arranged that? If 
 it is not an impertinent question, may I ask 
 Avhy you are marrying a girl with whom you 
 are not in love ? I can understand that she 
 may have her reasons for marrying you.' 
 
 ' We both have our reasons, and very good 
 ones too. I needn't run through the list of 
 them. I really think you will like Hope ; 
 but I won't say any more. If I praise her 
 too ]nuch I shall probably set you against 
 her.' 
 
 'Naturally,' observed Miss Herbert, and 
 then changed the subject. 
 
 Jacob no longer dined with the family ; his 
 meals were served to him by reluctant servants 
 in his own sitting-room upstairs — another 
 painful incident of his false position. Some- 
 times, however, if there was nobody staying 
 in the house, he would make his appearance
 
 JACOB STILES 261 
 
 in the smoking-room at a late hour ; and he 
 did so this evening. 
 
 Dick looked up from the 'Field,' and 
 nodded to him as he entered and advanced 
 towards the fire, his cheeks somewhat pale, 
 and the embarrassment of his manner more 
 marked than usual. It was only after he had 
 twice opened his hps without speaking that 
 he managed to say : 
 
 ' I told you I had sold another picture. I 
 have been saving up what I have earned lately, 
 and here it is.' He held out a bundle of bank- 
 notes. " It's — it's — the two lumdred pounds 
 that I stole,' he said, a sudden flush mounting 
 to his cheek-bones as he forced himself to 
 utter that uncompromising word. 
 
 Dick frowned, as he had a wav of doincp 
 when he was distressed. ' AVhat iionsense, 
 Jake ! ' he exclaimed. ' I tlioucfht we had 
 agreed not to mention that affair again. It is 
 all over and — done with.' He had been croinor 
 to say ' forgotten,' but checked himself. 
 
 ' It can never be done with for me,' 
 answered the young man, upon whom the
 
 262 A BACHELORS BLrNDER 
 
 signilicance of the substituted phrase was not 
 lost. ' The curse will be upon me to my 
 dying day. If I never commit another offence 
 against God or man, it will make no difference. 
 It can't be helped, I suppose.' 
 
 Dick was not much moved by this out- 
 burst, which struck him as exaggerated and 
 uncalled-for. ' My good fellow,' he said, not 
 very felicitously, ' I don't want the money ; it 
 wasn't the loss of two hundred pounds that I 
 cared about.' 
 
 ' I am quite aware of that,' replied the 
 other bitterly ; ' but I hope you will take the 
 money, all the same, to please me. It's — a 
 wedding present, if you like,' he added, with 
 a faint smile. 
 
 ' I am very willing to accept your present, 
 Jake, if that Avill make you any happier,' said 
 Dick, taking the notes and tossing them care- 
 lessly into a drawer. 
 
 Unlike the generality of rich men, he cared 
 less about money than about any other earthly 
 thing, and treated this considerable sum as if 
 it had been the merest trifle. He wanted to
 
 JACOB STILES 2G3 
 
 add sometliinii kind, but scarcely knew what 
 to say. The pale, sullen face and the down- 
 cast eyes which refused to meet his, impressed 
 him disagreeably. The form of consolation 
 which finally commended itself to him was 
 not quite the best that could haye been hit 
 upon. 
 
 ' Come, Jake, don't look so gloomy oyer it. 
 Nobody but ourselyes knows what happened 
 three years ago, and nobody else eyer will 
 know. You haye made a fresh start ; go on 
 and prosper, and, in God's name, giye up 
 worrying yourself about what can't be un- 
 done.' 
 
 Jacob made some inarticulate murmur 
 and presently went away. He had been quite 
 prepared for his reception ; he had felt sure 
 beforehand that Dick would neyer say, 'Let 
 us be friends again,' yet he was sore and dis- 
 appointed. If those few words could haye 
 been spoken, his character miglit eyen now 
 have been altered ; but the words that he had 
 heard were so many fresh wounds, which 
 would smart for weeks and months to come.
 
 264 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 and might not improbably poison his sick 
 mind beyond hope of cure, as the sting of an 
 insect will sometimes prove fatal to those whose 
 blood is in a diseased state. But how was a 
 straightforward, plain-dealing fellow like Dick 
 Herbert to understand all this ?
 
 265 
 
 CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 MRS. PIERPOIXT. 
 
 OxE afternoon, some weeks after the announce- 
 ment of Hope's engagement to ^h\ Herbert, a 
 young gentleman, whose somewhat ])erturbed 
 mien contrasted with the very careful accuracy 
 of his get-up, rang at the door of one of the 
 smallest houses in Green Street, IMayfair. He 
 asked for Mrs. Pierpoint, was admitted, and 
 presently groped his way into a diminutive 
 drawing-room, darkened to suit modern re- 
 quirements, and a httle over-crowded with 
 the Satsuma and Kioto ware, the old silver 
 and enamels and miniatures whicli are the 
 outward evidences of modern taste. 
 
 Behind a tea-table in a corner of the 
 diminutive drawing-room sat a diminutive 
 lady, who immediately said : ' I know what is 
 the matter. You have heard that vour flame
 
 260 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 is going to be married, and you have come to 
 tell me that it is all my fault.' 
 
 ' And so it is your fault,' Captain Cunning- 
 ham declared, dropping into a low chair and 
 casting his hat away from him with the air of 
 one to whom glossy hats could henceforward 
 be neither a care nor a consolation. ' If it 
 hadn't been for you, this w^ould never have 
 happened.' 
 
 ' If I could think so,' remarked Mrs. Pier- 
 point, ' I should be able to flatter myself that 
 I had not lived altogether in vain ; but I am 
 afraid I must not claim all that credit. The 
 utmost that I have done has been to save you 
 from getting into one more stupid scrape.' 
 
 Mrs. Pierpoint had been for some years 
 Bertie Cunningham's friend, confidant, and ad- 
 viser. Her age was nearer forty than thirty; 
 but she had preserved her girlish figure and 
 as much as could be expected of the' beauty 
 for which she had once been famous. Time 
 could not mar the perfect profile formed by 
 that low brow, that little Greek nose, that 
 short upper lip and rounded cliin. Some
 
 MRS. PIEErOIXT 2G7 
 
 lines, it is true, showed themselves about the 
 mouth and eyes, and the complexion was no 
 loncrer what it had been ; but the abundant 
 brown hair was as vet unstreaked with grey, 
 only the gold having faded out of it. She was 
 a bright, vivacious woman, who liked hunting 
 in winter, and society in spring, and yachting 
 in summer, and Bertie Cunningham all the 
 year round. Some people were pleased to say 
 disagreeable things about her ; but as these 
 things were not true, there is no need to 
 dwell upon them. She had a husband with 
 whom she managed to hve on terms of amity, 
 though there had been a time when she had 
 believed that this would be impossible to her. 
 Many things are found possible which do not 
 appear so at first sight. Mrs. Pierpoint had 
 learnt to shut her eyes to what she did not 
 wdsh to see, to accept what there was no satis- 
 factory mode of escape from, and to conceal 
 any sufferings that she may have felt from a 
 world which dislikes nothing so much as the 
 contemplation of suffering. It is probable that 
 her moral standard was not a very exalted
 
 268 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 one ; but she was a brave, kindhearted little 
 soul, who tried to do her duty according to 
 her lights, and spoke evil of neither man nor 
 woman. 
 
 'If it hadn't been for you,' Bertie Cun- 
 ningham went on reproachfully, ' I should 
 have got those people to ask me down to 
 Helston at Christmas. You know I should.' 
 
 ' And afterwards ? ' 
 
 ' Afterwards ?^ — afterwards ! Well, I should 
 have seen her, and she wouldn't have gone 
 and engaged herself to tliis fellow, that's all. 
 Oh, you may call me conceited if you like 
 — I don't care. I'm much too miserable to 
 care what I am called. Herbert, of all men ! 
 She can't possibly love him, you know. 
 Now, don't go and say that she does.' 
 
 ' Would it be any comfort to you to think 
 that she did.' 
 
 ' Yes — no — I don't know. I am beyond 
 reach of comfort. You don't understand 
 what it is ; you're so awfully stony-hearted. 
 I should just like to see you desperately, 
 miserably in love with somebody ! '
 
 MRS. PIERPOn^T 2G9 
 
 ' I fancy that I have oiithvecl the power ; 
 but thank you, all the same. I have seen 
 you m that condition once or twice before, 
 and I don't feel much alarmed about you. 
 You'll be all ricfht aiiain in a few weeks.' 
 
 ' That is a most horrid, unfriendly thing 
 to say ! ' cried Cunningham ; ' besides being 
 perfectly untrue. You never in your life 
 saw me in love before. Some fancies I may 
 have had — there's nothino; to lauizh at — I 
 say, I may have had a passing fancy or two ; 
 but nothincT in the least like this. This is 
 the real thingr, and I shall never set over it.' 
 
 ' Do you think you will die of it, then ? 
 Have a cup of tea in the meantime.' 
 
 ' I said nothing about dying,' returned the 
 young man, with some asperity ; ' I said I 
 should never get over it, and I never shall. 
 If I were talking to anybody but you, I 
 should say that my heart was broken ; but 
 I w^on't say so to you, because as a matter of 
 course you would begin to laugh. You are 
 laughing already. Well, I suppose there 
 must be something kilhngly funny in the
 
 270 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 suJOTering of a friend, since it amuses you so 
 much ; but I don't quite see the joke myself.' 
 
 ' I am not laughing,' said the little lady, 
 who indeed had only smiled. ' I am really 
 sorry for you, and I quite believe that it hurts 
 for the moment ; only I cannot ]:)retend to 
 regret Miss Lefroy's engagement. You know 
 as well as I do that you never could have 
 married her, and therefore ' 
 
 ' Oh, yes ; that's the way you kept going 
 on all the winter. I wish to heaven I hadn't 
 listened to you ! ' 
 
 ' Do you know that you are becoming 
 rather rude ? But never mind ; I didn't 
 expect gratitude. What I was going to say 
 was that, as you could not liave afforded to 
 marry Miss Lefroy yourself, it really cannot 
 signify much to you whom she marries or 
 when she marries. To be sure,' added Mrs. 
 Pierpoint, thoughtfully, ' I would rather have 
 heard that she was engaged to any other man 
 than Mr. Herbert. It may lead to complica- 
 tions.' 
 
 ' What complications ? ' Cunningham asked.
 
 MRS. PIERFOIXT 271 
 
 'You know what I mean. I am afraid 
 you will be apt to make love to the wife 
 when you ought to be making love to the 
 sister.' 
 
 Cunningham groaned. ' I wish you were 
 not so determined to marry me to Miss 
 Herbert ! I am not going to marry her ; I 
 am not going to marry at all. Why on earth 
 should I ? ' 
 
 ' Because it is good for you. Because you 
 want money ; because Carry Herbert is by 
 far the best-looking heiress that I know, and 
 because you really did like her very much not 
 so long ago.' 
 
 ' Like her ! — oh, yes, I liked her well 
 enough ; but that was before I saw Hope — 
 ■Miss Lefroy, I mean. Everythino; is changed 
 now, and there is only one woman in tlie 
 Avorld whom I could possibly marry. I sa}^ 
 do you believe Dick Herbert is in love with 
 her?' 
 
 ' I know nothing about it, but I presume 
 so. According to you, her charms are suffi- 
 cient to account for his being in love with her.'
 
 272 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 ' Yes ; but I always imagined that Herbert 
 was a rei^^iilar Avoman-hater, and he o-ave out 
 ever so lonc^ ao^o that he didn't mean to 
 marry. I expect Lady Jane has made up 
 the matcli.' 
 
 Mrs. Pierpoint was beginning : ' If she 
 
 has, it is mucli to her credit ' wdien Mr. 
 
 Francis was announced, and she rose to shake 
 hands Avitli the new arrival ' AVe were just 
 talking about your friend Mr. Herbert,' she 
 remarked. 
 
 'Were you?' said Francis. 'Then let 
 us talk about something else.' 
 
 ' After that, we certainly can't talk about 
 anything else until you have explained your- 
 self. Don't you approve of his marriage ? ' 
 
 ' Does anybody ever approve of the 
 marrias^e of his best friend ? Isn't it a well- 
 knowm fact that the chances a]-e twenty to 
 one in favour of his best friend's wife hating 
 him like poison ? In this instance the chances 
 may safely be counted as fifty to one, because 
 the only time that I ever spoke to Miss 
 Lefroy I was happily inspired to tell her that
 
 MRS. PIERPOi>'T 273 
 
 a woman who married poor Dick from 
 worldly motives would infallibly make him 
 and herself miserable.' 
 
 ' She is marrying him from worldly 
 motives then ? ' 
 
 ' Judging by the spirit in which she 
 received my remarks I should imagine that 
 she was ; but I am not in Miss Lefroy's 
 secrets. I shall buy a very nice wedding 
 present for Dick ; I sliall see him through on 
 the fatal day, and then bid him a tearful 
 farewell. I give him eighteen months to 
 repent of his bargain and return to me in 
 sackcloth and ashes. That would bring us to 
 just about the proper time of year for the 
 big game in Abyssinia.' 
 
 'You are indeed a friend of the right 
 sort. And what is Mrs. Herbert to do when 
 you go after the big game in Abyssinia ? ' 
 
 ' Mrs. Herbert, I take it, will amuse her- 
 self with little games in England. I don't 
 wish to be the prophet of evil. I may be 
 quite wrong, and they may turn out the 
 happiest couple under the sun ; but I have 
 
 Vol. I. T
 
 274 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 opinions of my own upon the subject of 
 matrimony in general and of Dick Herbert as 
 a married man in particular.' 
 
 He had vieAvs, which he was rather fond 
 of unfolding, upon most subjects, and per- 
 haps he would have been willing to state his 
 matrimonial views now ; but it was already 
 past six o'clock, and other visitors, before 
 whom such subjects could not conveniently 
 be discussed, began to drop in, one by one, 
 until the little room w^as almost choked with 
 them. 
 
 Amonir the latest arrivals was Miss Her- 
 bert, who was welcomed by Mrs. Pierpoint 
 with that pecuharly affectionate cordiality 
 which women are wont to display towards 
 another of their sex in the presence of the 
 man to whom they desire to marry her. 
 Why the}^ should behave in this manner it 
 is not easy to discover ; for the man, unless 
 he is very dull indeed, sees and understands 
 it all, and, as a general thing, it makes him 
 both uncomfortable and obstinate. It is not 
 everybody who, like Bertie Cunningham, is
 
 MKS. PIERPOIXT 275 
 
 prepared for all kinds of feiniDine stratagems 
 and is confident of his own power to resist 
 tliem. 
 
 That experienced youth knew quite well 
 that a chair close to his would be found for 
 Miss Herbert, and he also had good grounds 
 for believing that ]\Iiss Herbert had a crow to 
 pluck with him ; but he did not allow these 
 things to disturb his equanimity. He got her 
 a cup of tea, resumed his seat, smiled 
 pleasantly, and waited for her to begin the 
 attack. She looked very handsome in that 
 subdued hg;ht. and, broken-hearted thoui^h 
 he was, it was always agreeable to him to 
 contemplate a handsome woman. The clouds 
 which had gathered upon her brow when she 
 first caught sight of him began to disperse as 
 she returned his ijaze. 
 
 ' Captain Cunningham,' said she, ' how 
 ought one to treat a correspondent who never 
 answers one's letters ? ' 
 
 ' Go on writing to him till he does answer, 
 I should think,' replied Bertie, promptly. 
 
 'That mio'ht become monotonous. Per-
 
 •270 A bachelor's ELUJS'DEl 
 
 liaps a simpler plan would be to give up 
 writing to him altogether.' 
 
 ' I can't help fancying,' said Bertie, ' that 
 these observations are meant to apply in 
 some mysterious way to me. If so, I can 
 only say that that is the plan which you have 
 adopted. I haven't had a letter from you for 
 a very long time ; but I am sure I answered 
 every time that you wrote. If you didn't 
 hear, it must have been the fault of that dis- 
 graceful post-office, which is always mislaying 
 my correspondence. I mean to make a 
 formal complaint to the Postmaster-General 
 about it one of these days.' 
 
 Miss Herbert smiled. Perhaps she be- 
 lieved him ; perhaps she only wanted to 
 believe him. He was bending forwards, his 
 elbow resting on his knees, and was looking 
 up into her face with those innocent dark- 
 blue eyes which many a woman before her 
 had found irresistible. The most absurd of 
 all the illusions that we cherish are tliose 
 which we knoAv to be illusions ; but it not 
 unfrequently happens that tliesc are just the
 
 MFu-. PIERrOIXT 277 
 
 ones with which we are most unwilling to 
 part. 
 
 Miss Herbert drank her tea silently ; the 
 sniile was still liovering about her hps as she 
 handed the empty cup to her neighbour. In 
 general, her voice, if not exactly harsh, was 
 hard ; but notliing could have been gentler 
 than the intonation with which her next 
 words were spoken. ' I wonder whether you 
 will take the trouble to come and see me 
 sometimes, now that I am in London.' 
 
 ' Of course I will,' Bertie answered ; 'where 
 are you staying ? ' 
 
 She gave him one of her cards. ' Dick 
 has taken a house for the season,' she said. 
 ' I suppose you have heard about poor 
 Dick ? ' 
 
 The young man winced slight I v. * Yes, 
 I've lieard. What in the world is he doing 
 it for .^ ' 
 
 ' EeaUy that is more than I can tell you. 
 There appears to be no pretence of affection 
 on either side.' 
 
 ' I knew it I ' exclaimed Bertie, off" his
 
 278 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 guard. ' I was certain that there couldn't be 
 anything of the kind ! ' 
 
 ' Why were you so certain ? ' asked Miss 
 Herbert, suspiciously. 'Are you acquainted 
 with the girl ? ' 
 
 ' Well, yes ; just acquainted,' answered 
 the other, recollecting himself. ' That is, I 
 have met her twice in my life. It didn't 
 strike me that she was at all in Dick's style. 
 This really ought not to be allowed to go on, 
 you know.' 
 
 Miss Herbert laughed. ' If you think that 
 Dick can l3e prevented from doing anything 
 that he has made up his mind to do, you must 
 have had very few opportunities of studying 
 his character. After all, why should it not 
 be allowed to go on? It is very unlikely 
 that he will live and die a bachelor, and I 
 don't know that Miss Lefroy will not suit him 
 as well as anybody else. I was introduced to 
 her yesterday, and I thought her a very 
 decent sort of person.' 
 
 A decent sort of person ! Bertie stroked 
 his nascent moustache and held his tonc^ue
 
 MES. PIERPOIXT 279 
 
 with some difficulty. He valued peace too 
 much to put the thoughts that were iu him 
 into words ; but he was not sorry that the 
 conversation at this juncture became general. 
 When ILiss Herbert took her leave he had 
 recovered himself sufficiently to bestow that 
 slight pressure upon her fingers which he 
 supposed that she expected. 
 
 As soon as he and Mrs. Pierpoint were 
 once more alone, the latter remarked drily, 
 ' I am glad to see that you are still capable 
 of making love to a lady who has the merit 
 of beincr marriaseable.' 
 
 ' You call that a merit ! Besides, I didn't 
 make love to her at all — how can you say 
 such things? I have never made love to 
 her.' 
 
 'Oh I' 
 
 ' Well, I am speaking the truth. I know 
 what it will be ; some fine day you will 
 manage to get me into such a position that I 
 shall be obhged to propose to Miss Herbert or 
 some other heiress, and then I shall be nicely 
 caught ! '
 
 280 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 ' You must acknowledge that, if I have 
 anything to do with the catching, I shall at 
 least be disinterested. You heard what Mr. 
 Francis said just now about the wives of 
 one's best friends, and I suppose the same 
 rule applies to the husbands. This is a 
 peculiarly hard case, since both you and 
 Carry Herbert are friends of mine. I wonder 
 whether you will both show me the cold 
 shoulder as soon as you are married.' 
 
 ' I can't tell what she might do,' said Cun- 
 ningham ; ' but I can answer for myself. 
 Cold shoulder wouldn't be the word ! If ever 
 you bring such a thing about, my implacable 
 resentment shall pursue you all the days of 
 your mortal life.' 
 
 ' This is very sad and very discouraging,' 
 said Mrs. Pierpoint ; ' but I think I will take 
 my chance all the same. Perhaps you won't 
 hate me ; you may even live to thank me — 
 who knows ? '
 
 2S1 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HOPE DOES HER DUTY. 
 
 Sprixg had passed imperceptibly into sum- 
 mer ; the trees in Eaton Square were as green 
 as London trees can contrive to be ; the 
 season was in full swing ; the ceaseless turmoil 
 of the vast city had become slightly increased 
 in one of its quarters ; a few of its inhabitants 
 were spending hundreds and thousands of 
 pounds upon entertainments which afforded 
 no very keen dehght to anybody ; others 
 were dying of hunger in garrets ; at West- 
 minster statesmen and would-be statesmen 
 were calling one another bad names and oc- 
 casionally doing a little business. That as- 
 tonishing mixture of tragedy and farce which 
 goes by the name of life, and which, from 
 force of habit, none of us find astonishing,
 
 282 A EACIIELOR's BLUNDER 
 
 was, in short, being enacted as usual ; and the 
 circumstance that a sino^le individual amono^ 
 those millions, had rather rashly engaged 
 herself to marry a man whom she did not love 
 was, doubtless, trivial enough. What can it 
 matter whether one atom in the swarm lives 
 or dies, is happy or unhappy? Since, how- 
 ever, all is relative ; since the world in which 
 we dwell is but a speck in the immensity of 
 space, and since it and we might be extin- 
 guished to-morrow without even a momentary 
 cessation of the music of the spheres, it is 
 evident that we have only to apply the same 
 theory upon a somewhat larger scale in order 
 to convince ourselves that nothing which has 
 ever happened upon the surface of this planet 
 is of any consequence whatsoever — a propo- 
 sition which seems too bold to be gulped 
 down by mortal swallow. And so we return 
 to the comforting conclusion that small things 
 are just as important as great, and that Hope 
 Lefroy's destiny was at least of supreine con- 
 sequence to herself. 
 
 There were moments when she felt it to
 
 IIOrE DOES HER DUTY 283 
 
 be so ; but for the most part slie allowed 
 herself to float clown the stream of fate, not 
 without a restful sense of rehef m the thought 
 that her struggles against the current were 
 ended. Herbert came to see her from time to 
 time — not by any means every day ; Gertrude 
 endeavoured, with more or less of success, to 
 interest her in tlie purchase of her trousseau ; 
 Lady Jane purred over her contentedly ; the 
 more distant members of the Lefro}' clan 
 came to offer their fehcitations and their 
 wedding gifts ; the days slipped away some- 
 how or other and were not such bad days, 
 taking them all in all. She went as little 
 as possible into tlie world, the comparative 
 recency of her father's death giving her an 
 excuse for dechning invitations ; but she could 
 hardly refuse to be present at her aunt's 
 annual ball, and it was upon that occasion 
 that she encountered Captain Cunningham for 
 the first time since her enofacrement. 
 
 It must be confessed that the sight of the 
 young guardsman agitated her a httle for a 
 moment ; he himself was agitated, and pos-
 
 284 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 sibly did not try very hard to veil his agita- 
 tion. But it was rather her memory than 
 her heart that was stirred, and she speedily 
 regained her self-possession. ' No, thanks ! ' 
 she said, in answer to his immediate request, 
 * I am not i:^oinf]j to dance to-nii]^ht.' 
 
 ' Oh, but just once ! — for the sake of old 
 times,' he pleaded. 
 
 ' Well, perhaps once,' she answered, hesi- 
 tatingly. ' But not now ; later in tlie evening, 
 if you're disengaged then,' and with that she 
 turned away. 
 
 After all why should she not have just one 
 last dance? Without quite knowing it, she 
 looked forward to her marriage in much the 
 same way that many people look forward to 
 death — as the end of everytliing, a huge 
 barrier, beyond which there may or may not 
 be some new kind of happiness, but surely 
 no renewal of dancing or laughter or other 
 frivolous delights. 
 
 Cunningham w^as too adroit, or too much 
 engaged, to claim the promised dance before 
 two o'clock in the morning, the consequence
 
 HOPE DOES IIEK DUTY 2S5 
 
 of wliicli wr.s that lie was awaited with some 
 little impatience. He looked sad and interest- 
 ing ; he said very little, but placed his arm 
 round his partner's waist, and, as she was 
 whirled away into the throng, it seemed to her 
 for an instant as if careless youth had come 
 back, and all the events of the past year might 
 be forgotten, and she might fancy herself at 
 her first ball ao-ain. 
 
 An insignificant circumstance interfered 
 with the continuance of this illusion. The 
 house in which Hope had first been intro- 
 duced to London society had been a very 
 large one, whereas that in Eaton Square 
 was only of moderate size. In so restricted 
 a space collisions could with difficulty be 
 avoided, and anything like the poetry of 
 motion was quite UDattainable. After making 
 the circuit of the room once, Hope paused, 
 and, disengaging herself from her partner, 
 declared with a touch of petulance that it was 
 out of the question to dance in the midst of 
 such a rabble. ' We may as well sit down,' 
 she said, and suited the action to the word.
 
 286 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 ' All ! ' sighed Cunningham, as he followed 
 her example, ' if we could only go back to this 
 time last year I ' 
 
 ' That is just what I was thinking ; it seems 
 so much more than a year ago ! ' 
 
 ' I suppose it wouldn't make much differ- 
 ence if we could,' the young man said with 
 another sigh ; ' what must be will be. Only, 
 so long as things haven't actually happened, 
 it always seems as if other things might be 
 possible, don't you know ? ' 
 
 To this incoherent sentiment Hope made 
 no reply, and he continued : ' I wonder what 
 we shall be doing this time next year. Pro- 
 bably I shall be wishing that I could have this 
 evening back again. Next year you will be 
 Mrs. Herbert, and perhaps your husband won't 
 let you dance.' 
 
 ' I don't think Mr. Herbert is likely to lay 
 any prohibitions upon me,' answered Hope, 
 coldly. 
 
 She was not pleased with him for alluding 
 to her marriage. There are certain reticences 
 for which women are always grateful, and she
 
 HOPE DOES HER DUTY 287 
 
 had credited Cunningham with some dehcacy 
 in that he had refrained from offering her any 
 empty congratulations. Of course he must 
 suspect what her motives for marrying were, 
 and, as he was no relation of hers, of course 
 he could see no cause for rejoicing in such a 
 match. But he might liave let the subject 
 alone. 
 
 Fortunately he did not seem inclined to 
 pursue it. His next words were: 'Do you 
 remember that day last winter when I met 
 you in the Park ? ' 
 
 ' Quite well,' answered Hope. 
 
 ' And I told you I should get your people 
 to ask me down to Helston at Christmas. 
 How I wish I had ! ' 
 
 ' We should all have been glad to see 
 you ; but most hkely you were better amused 
 liunting in Leicestershire with your friend 
 Mrs. Pierpoint.' 
 
 ' How did you know that I was there ? ' 
 asked the young man in some astonishment. 
 
 'Everything is known. Did you wish it 
 to remain a secret ? '
 
 288 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 ' Oil, dear, no ! there is no secret about it. 
 Pierpoint told me I could ride his horses 
 while he was away, so I went down to Melton 
 for a few weeks and stayed with a cousin of 
 mine. Only I thought, from the way you 
 spoke — that is, I hope you know that I would 
 a thousand times rather have been at Helston 
 than in Leicestershire.' 
 
 ' Eeally ? I can't quite understand why.' 
 But in truth she did understand what he 
 meant her to infer ; and, if she had not, the 
 eloquent expression which he now threw into 
 his eyes would have enlightened her. This 
 knowledge, however, did not cause her heart 
 to beat any the faster. Captain Cunningham 
 might possibly, under different conditions, 
 have become something to her ; but he was 
 nothing to her now — she was quite sure of 
 that — nor did she believe much in his sin- 
 cerity. No doubt the impassioned gaze with 
 which she was at that moment being honoured 
 had been directed at half-a-dozen sets of fea- 
 tures in the course of the evening. But there 
 she did him an injustice. Had he been less
 
 HOPE DOES HER DUTY 289 
 
 seriously in love with her, lie would not have 
 hesitated to be a good deal more expHcit ; 
 but Hope was not to him what other w^omen 
 were, and since he could no more ask her to 
 throw Herbert over and marry him than he 
 could propose to a princess of the blood royal, 
 he heroically refrained from going beyond 
 hints and glances ; wdiich, according to his 
 code, was no small concession to the behests 
 of duty. 
 
 These meeting wdth no response, the con- 
 versation gradually languished. Xeither he 
 nor she felt altogether at ease ; the interview 
 was a disappointment to both of them, and 
 Hope was not sorry w^hen Herbert lounged 
 up to her side and put an end to it. ^Yith 
 Herbert she did feel at ease ; never was there 
 a less exacting fiance. If she happened to be 
 in a talkative mood, he sat and hstened to her 
 with apparent pleasure ; if, on the other hand, 
 she preferred to remain silent, that seemed to 
 suit him quite equally well. She told herself 
 a dozen times a day that she ought to be very 
 thankful and that she never could have got 
 
 Vol. I. U
 
 290 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 on so smoothly with anyone else in the world. 
 It was necessary that she should tell herself 
 this, because every now and then he provoked 
 her to an extent for which she was puzzled 
 to account ; and indeed, although storms are 
 not to be desired, there are few tempers 
 capable of holding out against a perpetual 
 equatorial calm. 
 
 There was no disturbing Dick Herbert's 
 good humour ; otherwise he might have been 
 made a little anxious by the fits of nervous 
 irritability to which Hope became subject as 
 the day of her marriage drew nearer ' Do 
 you realise what you are doing ? ' she asked 
 him suddenly once ; ' do you know that you 
 are marrying a woman who has the makings 
 of a termagant in her ? ' He smiled and re- 
 plied that he was willing to run that risk. 
 
 On another occasion she besought him to 
 tell her whether he did not in his heart be- 
 lieve it to be wicked to marry without love. 
 ' It must be wicked — I am sure it must be ! 
 Though I don't think the Bible says anything 
 about it.'
 
 HOPE DOES HER DUTY 291 
 
 ' Neither the Bible nor I have a word to 
 say against the practice,' Dick answered. 
 
 ' But perhaps you think it wrong, though 
 you don't say so. Wouldn't you like to be 
 off your bargain ? Come I — there is still 
 time.' 
 
 ' Well — hardly, is there ? Think of the 
 feelings of your family.' 
 
 Hope burst into an hysterical laugh. 
 * What would they do to me ! It would be 
 almost worth while to break the engagement 
 off, if only for the sake of passing through 
 such a starthng experience. But of course I 
 am talking nonsense,' she added, becoming 
 grave again. ' I should never have the moral 
 courage to retreat now ; perhaps, if I had 
 had any moral courage, I should never have 
 advanced. It has all been your doing from 
 first to last.' 
 
 ' I don't mind acceptmg the entire respon- 
 sibility,' said Dick. 
 
 That was the worst of him : he didn't 
 mind anything. It was this unreasonable 
 complaint that Hope inwardly formulated 
 
 V 2
 
 2^2 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 against a man who let lier do exactly what 
 she pleased now, and who would in all pro- 
 bability continue to let her do what she 
 pleased hereafter. Unquestionably such a 
 treasure was thrown away upon her ; and 
 so, in truth, her friends appeared to think. 
 When they came to congratulate her, they 
 one and all expatiated upon Dick's good 
 quahties, and had an unflattering way of im- 
 plying that she was a great deal more lucky 
 than she deserved to be. Even Mills, who 
 could not be accused of undervaluing her 
 former mistress, was abundantly satisfied with 
 the match and spoke of Mr. Herbert in terms 
 of such extravagant, not to say ignorant, 
 eulogy that Hope could not help calling at- 
 tention to one small defect of his. ' He is 
 sixteen years older than I am, you know. 
 Mills.' 
 
 ' And a very good thing too. Miss Hope. 
 I don't feel no confidence in young men, nor 
 yet no respect for 'em,' said Mrs. Mills, whose 
 own husband was considerably her junior. 
 ' What you want,' she went on, ' is somebody
 
 HOPE DOES HER DUTY 293 
 
 to take care of you ; and that 'Mr. Herbert 
 will do. I'd a deal sooner it was him than 
 the other.' 
 
 ' What other ? ' Hope inquired. 
 
 ' Why, him as you walked with that day 
 in the park, my dear. I was took with him 
 at first, I don't deny, for I have always been 
 partial to good looks, having none myself; 
 but when I come to think it over, I didn't 
 feel so sure of him. No, my dear ; it's best 
 as it is, you may depend.' 
 
 ' The gentleman whom you speak of never 
 asked me to marry him,' said Hope ; ' and no 
 doubt everything that happens is always for 
 the best. At all events, you will be a gainer, 
 you poor old Mills, for you won't be dragged 
 away from your duties any more noAV to sit 
 in artists' studios all the morning.' 
 
 ' The Lord be praised for that ! ' ejaculated 
 Mills piously. ' Not that I grudged the time, 
 as well you know. Miss Hope ; but, dear me ! 
 it wasn't the right thing at all for a young 
 lady like you to be going to such places. I 
 felt so all along, though it Avasn't for me to
 
 294 A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 speak ; and that there Mr. Tristram, I believe 
 he thought the same as I did.' 
 
 ' Very hkely,' answered Hope. 
 
 She had no doubt that Tristram, in com- 
 mon with everybody else, held that opinion. 
 In her inexperience she had imagined that it 
 might possibly be the right thing to earn her 
 own bread ; but evidently this was not so. 
 The right thing was to remain, by hook or 
 by crook, in the station to which she had 
 been born ; the right thing was to be rich. 
 If riches did not chance in her case to be 
 synonymous with bliss, that was her own 
 fault. The consciousness of duty performed 
 should be sufficient for all well-ordered minds. 
 
 It was in the very last days of her spin- 
 sterhood that Hope held the above colloquy 
 with Mills. She had gone to Henrietta Street 
 to take leave of her old nurse and her old 
 rooms, and had contemplated continuing her 
 pilgrimage to South Kensington in order to 
 take leave also of her old master. But now 
 she gave up that idea. What would be the 
 good? What pleasure could thei'e be in
 
 HOPE DOES HER DUTY 295 
 
 hearing conventionalities from the unconven- 
 tional Tristram ? These might more appro- 
 priately be spoken after the ceremony, to 
 which he had been invited and at which she 
 presumed that he would be present. So she 
 went straight back to Eaton Square and shed 
 a few tears in private. 
 
 No modern Joshua being at hand to arrest 
 the remorseless progress of time, the sun rose 
 punctually at 4.30 a.m. on Hope's wedding- 
 morning to pursue his Avonted course of 
 shining upon the just and upon the unjust, 
 in the former class of which persons might 
 surely be included a young woman whose 
 faltering steps had led her at last into what 
 she believed to be the path of duty. When 
 he sank once more beneath the horizon-hne 
 Hope Lefroy had become Mrs. Herbert, and 
 Lady Jane, resting from her labours, breathed 
 a fervent thanksgiving that the proceedings 
 of the day had passed off without a hitch. 
 
 The good lady had not felt quite sure that 
 there would be no hitch ; but that numbness 
 of the w^hole nervous system which is often
 
 296 A BACHELORS BLUNDER 
 
 brought about by a crisis, and which is no 
 bad substitute for courage, enabled Hope to 
 bear herself from first to last with the most 
 creditable composure. Her wedding was 
 only a little less magnificent than that of her 
 cousin had been. Dukes and duchesses were 
 not quite so well represented at it, and the 
 reporters of the daily papers appeared at the 
 church in somewhat diminished numbers ; 
 but the requisite bishop was not lacking, nor 
 had any expense been spared in the way of 
 floral decoration. Dick Herbert, in a new 
 suit of clothes, got through his task with ease 
 and distinction, supported by the dissatisfied 
 Francis, who had assumed a smihng mien in 
 spite of his dissatisfaction. The only thing 
 that Hope afterwards remembered to have 
 seen during the service was Tristram's shaggy 
 head rising above a sea of others, and she 
 noticed that he was studying the scene with 
 a pensive, melancholy air, as if thinking that 
 a picture might possibly be made out of it. 
 But it was certain that Tristram would never 
 paint anything so hopelessly commonplace as
 
 HOPE DOES HEK DUTY 297 
 
 a fashionable weddincr. He said something 
 to her — she did not clearly understand what 
 — when he shook hands with her after the 
 rite was concluded. There were so many 
 people to be shaken hands with and so many 
 meaningless words to be hstened to ! 
 
 However, the ordeal did not last long. 
 Hope, placing herself in the hands of the new 
 maid who had been engaged for her, ex- 
 changed lier bridal array for a travelling- 
 dress ; immediately after which she seemed 
 to wake out of a trance and found that she 
 was seated beside her husband in a broucrham, 
 moving rapidly towards the station, whence 
 they were to depart for Folkestone and the 
 Continent. 
 
 She faced round upon him with quivering 
 lips and dilated eyes. ' Xow,' she exclaimed, 
 ' I hope you are satisfied ! ' 
 
 ' It seemed the best thing to do,' he an- 
 swered calmly. 
 
 Then she turned away, looking out of the 
 window, and did not speak again until the 
 short drive was at an end.
 
 298 A BACHELOES BLUNDER 
 
 Gertrude, when the company had dis- 
 persed, was moved by curiosity to put an 
 indiscreet question to her mother. ' Mamma, 
 do you think they will be happy, those 
 two ? ' 
 
 ' They have everything to make them so,' 
 Lady Jane declared boldly. 
 
 'Not quite everything, have they? I 
 suppose he must be fond of her ; but she 
 has said from the beginning that she is not 
 the least in love with him. It seems rather 
 dreadful ! I hope I shall not marry a man 
 whom I don't care for.' 
 
 ' I sincerely hope not, my dear,' said Lady 
 Jane ; ' I should never venture to advise any- 
 one to do that. And yet love is not so abso- 
 lutely essential as young people are apt to 
 think. I have known many instances in 
 which people who have married from — other 
 motives have got on very well.' She sighed 
 faintly. Perhaps she did not speak upon the 
 subject without some personal knowledge of 
 it to guide her. ' At all events,' she con- 
 cluded cheerfully, 'it is a thousand times
 
 HOPE DOES HER DUTY 2J>9 
 
 better for Hope to be living at Farndon and 
 mixing in the society to which she has been 
 accustomed, than masquerading about London 
 in the disguise of a female artist.' 
 
 Mr. Lefroy walked down to his club, 
 where he met several of his late guests. 
 ' Well, Lefroy,' said one of them, ' you look 
 very beaming. Has the Birmingham Caucus 
 been swallowed up by an earthquake ? ' 
 
 ' No,' answered Mr. Lefroy ; ' but Lve 
 married my niece to one of the best fellows 
 that ever stepped.' 
 
 ' Quite so ; but you might have married 
 her to anybody, for that matter. To my 
 mind, hers is far and away the most beautiful 
 face that has been seen in London this year.' 
 
 ' Well, yes,' assented i\Ir. Lefroy. ' Oh, 
 yes, she is perfect to look at, certainly ; still 
 I don't mind admitting to you that I'm glad 
 to get her off my hands. No vice, you under- 
 stand ; but awkward to drive — very awkward 
 to drive.' 
 
 ' And you think she'll go steadier in double 
 harness, eh ? '
 
 30(X A bachelor's BLUNDER 
 
 ' I haven't a doubt of it. She'll go steady 
 enough now — no more shying or bolting. 
 Only I'm not sure — this is strictly between 
 ourselves, of course — I'm not qicite sure that 
 I should care to change places with Dick 
 Herbert.' 
 
 EXD OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
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