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 /^I 
 
 THE 
 
 WORLD'S FURNITURE 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 Man's love is of man's life a thing apart ; 
 'Tis woman's whole existence " 
 
 BJRON, 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 YOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 CHARLES J. SKEET, PUBLISHER, 
 
 • 10, KING WILLIAM STREET, 
 
 CHARING CROSS. 
 
 1861.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Printed by A. Schulze, 13, Poland Street.
 
 8^3 
 
 THE 
 
 WORLD'S FURNITURE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 L Calais ! the very name calls forth 
 
 '^ thousands of recollections to almost every 
 
 ^ Englishman, the generality of ideas are 
 
 connected with Custom-House officers, and 
 
 ^- passport officials, sea-sickness and every 
 
 ^ other conceivable misery. A woman will 
 
 -:g think more of what her property has to 
 
 ? go through than herself — her boxes turned 
 
 ^^upside down, and then inside out, locks 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE world's furniture. 
 
 broken, cords lost, addresses torn, so that 
 no one can make out whose is whose, 
 and all this through the greatest noise of 
 human voices it is possible to be made, 
 nothing can come up to a Frenchman's 
 talk when he is excited, and whoever saw 
 a calm one ! 
 
 But we have nothing to do with all 
 this, Calais now, and Calais therif in the 
 days of which I am about to speak is 
 very different. There was the same noise 
 and apparent excitement then, but the 
 place was different, the people were diffe- 
 rent, and the cause of the people going 
 there was different. I must take you 
 back to the winter of 1828, when Calais 
 was a haven of refuge to so many broken 
 down, broken hearted, ruined English. A 
 few miserable, intensely miserable hours, 
 and they were saved from the disgrace 
 of the King's Bench, and were as far 
 out of the reach of bailiffs and sheriffs'
 
 THE world's furniture. 
 
 officers as if they had gone to the North 
 Pole. 
 
 The London boat was expected, it was 
 a cold day with a bleak wind, blowing 
 people about without any respect to persons ; 
 the ship was in sight, but tossing so that 
 you could only see half of it at a time, 
 as you stood watching its progress at the 
 end of 'the long wooden jetee, the chief 
 walk then of Calais. Amongst the lookers 
 on stood the English Consul, evidently ex- 
 pecting some one. Some thought it must 
 be a great person for the Consul to bring 
 himself out of his com.fortable little house 
 on the ramparts, to be knocked and blown 
 about as he was on such a day ; but people 
 were too cold and cross, for if you are cold 
 you must be cross, to trouble themselves 
 very much, besides it began to snow a 
 little, it was more like sleet than snow, 
 but it cut against the faces of the now 
 small group, that were obliged to remain, 
 
 B 2
 
 4 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 
 
 for the mere gazers from curiosity fled, as 
 soon as they found that there was really 
 nothing to reward them for their trouble. 
 
 The Consul, however, remained, and but- 
 toning up his coat as closely as he could, 
 puUing the sleeves as low down over his 
 hands as possible, with a very determined 
 clap on the top of his hat, to render it 
 still firmer, he quietly stood leaning against 
 one of the thick stout wooden posts, till 
 the winds and waves allowed the boat to 
 enter. His patience was not tried long, for 
 she appeared to come so suddenly and so 
 quickly, that it seemed incredible the speck 
 so lately seen in the far distance should 
 now be entering, looking a litttle more sober 
 between the two pier-heads. 
 
 The deck presented a sorry picture, rich 
 and poor had evidently fared alike since 
 leaving the opposite coast, all were sick, 
 all were very wet, and as uncomfortable 
 as human beings well could be — God does
 
 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 5 
 
 equalize his creatures in some things, sea- 
 sickness is one. The moment the ship had 
 reached the pier-head, the Consul, with the 
 little crowd gathered near him, went as 
 quickly as a sleet storm, which it had now 
 increased to, drifting in their faces would 
 permit, to the part of the harhour where 
 she would land her passengers. All seemed 
 anxious to be the first to land, and therefore 
 they were twice the time accomplishing it, 
 than if they had stood still till those before 
 had moved on; so it is always, we try 
 to attain that which is most difficult to be 
 had, and generally find, if we succeed at 
 all, we should probably have done so sooner, 
 by allowing things to take their natural 
 course, and saved ourselves besides an infinity 
 of trouble. 
 
 So apparently thought one of the pas- 
 sengers, evidently an English gentleman and 
 an English clergyman, he was leaning with 
 his elbow resting on the sort of cover that
 
 6 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 
 
 heads the entrance down to the fore-cabins ; 
 he was very tall and pale, and looked as 
 if he had suffered somewhat more than 
 the inconveniences arising from a voyage 
 during a rough sea. He was watching a 
 lady as she ascended the cabin steps, and 
 said to her, " Poor Rose, how you must 
 have suffered, and you at the best such 
 a wretched sailor ; where are the boys ?" 
 
 There was no need of an answer, for 
 they were there, behind their mother to 
 answer for themselves, appearing none the 
 w^orse for the tossing they had undergone. 
 They were now on deck. 
 
 "Wait till all these people who seem 
 in such a very great hurry are landed, and 
 then we can go much more comfortably, 
 and more safely, for those steps do not 
 look the easiest things to mount for the 
 children," again said the pale stranger. 
 
 *' If you will take Frank, I will take Ar- 
 thur," rejoined the lady, who then gave her
 
 THE world's furniture. 
 
 hand to the eldest child, a beautiful boy, about 
 five years old, and the gentleman, though ap- 
 parently not over strong, lifted the other little 
 fellow, who could not have been more than 
 three, in his arms, and so stood ready to land 
 when, as he said, the other passengers who 
 were pushing forward, were on shore. Their 
 turn soon came, and as the gentleman lifted 
 his boy out of his arms upon the ground, the 
 Consul came up to him, and bowing, said, 
 '■ " I believe I see Mr. Chichester ; I am the 
 British Consul, Mr. Western, and understand- 
 ing from our mutual friend, Bingham, you 
 would come by this boat, I hastened down to 
 welcome you and Mrs. Chichester." 
 
 After the usual civilities had been gone 
 through, Mr. Western added, 
 
 " I think if we send Mrs. Chichester and 
 your boys to my house, she will be spared a 
 great deal of confusion and waiting, and you 
 and I can see to all the luggage being passed, 
 which I don't think we shall have much trou-
 
 8 THE world's furniture. 
 
 ble with ; still they will, and, 1 suppose, must 
 go through a certain form, and we cannot 
 help ourselves, and must subnait." 
 
 After sundry exclamations and explana- 
 tions, first on the part of one of the Custom 
 House officers, on seeing a lady with two 
 children quietly getting into a carriage with- 
 out going through the passport office, and 
 then Mr. Western trying to explain very po- 
 litely that all was quite right, they rolled oif 
 in the thing on wheels we had the courtesy 
 just now to term a carriage. It was, how- 
 ever, as unlike one as anything meant to be 
 drawn by a horse could be : it was more like 
 a blue bottle cut in half, and put on t\YO 
 wheels. It rattled over the stones, crossed 
 the draw'bridge leading into the town, went on 
 through the market-place, passing the town- 
 hall, a fine old building with the telegraph at 
 the top, which looked, when working, some- 
 thing between an acrobat out of place, and 
 one of those children's toys in the shape of a
 
 THE world's furniture. 9 
 
 harlequin, that, on pulling a little string, all 
 the arms and legs move about, for there were 
 no telegraphic wires in those days. 
 
 The conveyance continued its course down 
 the Rue Royale, and finally, on turning to the 
 left, drew up at a small-looking white house, 
 where Mrs. Chichestsr and her boys got out ; 
 she, inwardly grateful they had arrived with- 
 out any broken bones. 
 
 It w^as a pleasant little house inside, and 
 an English servant opened the door. It 
 looked cheering to see an English face. 
 How we yearn after anything from our own 
 country when we are absent, even if we have 
 but just left it ! And so felt poor Mrs. Chi- 
 chester ; the •' Good evening, ma'am,'' sound- 
 ing more cordial in her ears than it had ever 
 done before. 
 
 They were taken into a pretty sitting- 
 room, looking on to the ramparts; indeed, 
 had the windows been low enough, you could 
 have walked out on to them. A bright fire
 
 10 THE world's furniture. 
 
 was burning, and, altogether, there was an air 
 of bachelor comfort in the room that made it 
 homely ; everything was so very untidy, a 
 writing-table covered with everything useful 
 and useless ; pipes and a snuff-box — for Mr. 
 Western was not a young man, and, there- 
 fore, thought snuff was allowable— walking- 
 sticks of all sizes and shapes, a gun, and lying 
 on the rug before the fire, w^as a dog, a large 
 white and liver-coloured setter, evidently ac- 
 customed to have particular care taken of 
 him ; he lifted his head on the entrance of 
 the strangers, and slowly getting up, walked 
 up to them with his tail dovvn, and with his 
 nasal organs ascertained whether he had to 
 meet friends or foes. 
 
 Little Frank shrunk up close to his mother. 
 " Oh, mamma, the big dog will bite," he 
 said, in a questioning tone. 
 
 " Don't be such a stupid little coward, 
 Frank," said Arthur, " look here, I am not 
 afraid."
 
 THE world's furniture. 11 
 
 However, the dog appeared not to care 
 much for Master Arthur's advances, for he 
 walked away, but turned round and looked at 
 Frank, and gave a scarcely perceptible wag 
 with his fine, feathery-looking tail. The boy 
 saw it, and seemed to feel as if a sudden un- 
 derstanding had arisen, that the dog meant to 
 re-assure him that he would not hurt him, 
 
 Mrs. Chichester sat down in a large leather 
 arm-chair, threw her head back, and closed 
 her eyes ; she looked ill and unhappy. Frank 
 came and sat on a stool at her feet, and 
 watched the fire and the dog ; he did not feel 
 afraid after that gentle wag. Arthur climbed 
 up on the window-seat, and watched the snow 
 falling piece by piece, till it melted away on 
 the ground. There was not a word spoken 
 till about half-an-hour had passed, and the 
 street-door was heard to open, and footsteps 
 coming towards the room they were in. 
 Little Frank's face brightened up. 
 
 ** There's papa, I'm so glad 1'*
 
 12 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " So am 1/! said Arthur, *' for I hope we 
 shall get some tea now." 
 
 " Poor papa must be so tired," was the 
 only rejoinder Frank made. 
 
 They were at the door now, and walked in. 
 
 "What a room to have brought you into, 
 Mrs. Chichester, I am quite ashamed of it," 
 exclaimed Mr. Western, " but T suppose Mrs. 
 Jones thought it was the warmest ; and Don, 
 too, here. Get up, you great big fellow, why 
 you take up the whole fire.'' 
 
 Don slowly rose, stretched himself, then 
 shook himself, and appeared afterwards per- 
 fectly awake, and to begin to understand that 
 he had to do with visitors. 
 
 "Indeed, I think you have no cause to 
 apologize either for the room or the dog, 
 Mr. Western, but we will release you now 
 if you will tell me where our lodgings are 
 you kindly secured, I think you told Bing- 
 ham they were near to your house," said 
 Mr. Chichester.
 
 THE world's furniture. 13 
 
 " Indeed I shall not allow one of you 
 to stir till you have had some refreshment, 
 there can be nothing ready for you in 
 your own rooms, and you must be nearly 
 famished." 
 
 " I am," said Arthur. 
 
 " Well, my boy, what will you have ?" 
 
 " Oh, anything, thank you, only I am 
 very hungry." 
 
 " Mrs. Chichester, tell me if you would 
 not prefer some tea to anything else, I 
 know ladies are generally great tea drinkers." 
 
 "I should," said Mrs. Chichester, "but 
 really it seems troubling you so, such a 
 host of us, and I have no doubt we should 
 manage to get something at our lodgings 
 if you will let us go." 
 
 ** Indeed I will not," said Mr. Western, 
 and ringing the bell, Mrs. Jones in her 
 black dress and white apron appeared as 
 if by magic. " Mrs. Jones," began Mr. 
 Western in rather a humble tone, " will
 
 14 THE WORLDS FURNITURE. 
 
 you be so kind as to get tea ready in the 
 dining-room, and anything cold you may 
 have, and if you please to have a good fire — '* 
 Mr. Western seemed to get more and more 
 humble. What cowards men are with women ! 
 and especially a bachelor with his house- 
 keeper, if he puts her out a little, it is so 
 easy for her to put him out a great deal, 
 he does not know how to find fault, he 
 dare not, and she knows it. They are 
 worse than wives, for a man can bully his 
 wife, but he dare not his housekeeper. I 
 daresay Mr. Western will suffer for his 
 entertaining a gentleman and lady and two 
 children without permission. However, we 
 will leave him in happy ignorance of what 
 may be in store for him, stuffing the boys 
 with cakes and sweetmeats, and urging 
 Mr. and Mrs. Chichester to eat much more 
 than it was physically possible for them to 
 accomplish. 
 
 Frank had felt a cold nose touch his
 
 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 1 D 
 
 little hand as it lay on his knee, which 
 made him start; he was a timid child, 
 but a pair of large brown eyes with a 
 gentle expression looking into his face, made 
 him without fear pat Don's head, and offer 
 him some of his good things, and so they 
 established a firm friendship. 
 
 We will leave them now thus comfortably 
 engaged, and go back a few years, to learn 
 a little of the Chichesters before they came 
 to Calais.
 
 16 THE world's furniture. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Rose Fordyce was the only daughter 
 of Sir John Fordyce, a wealthy proud Scotch- 
 man, her mother died when she was but 
 a few weeks old, leaving her and an only 
 boy about six or seven years of age to 
 be brought up by a man she knew to be 
 without heart and very little principle. She 
 trusted, however, her son William would 
 be a kind protector to his sister at the 
 age she would most require it. Sir John 
 lived at Burwood, in Leicestershire, the entire 
 year, and, since his wife's death, he was
 
 THE world's furniture. 17 
 
 a thorough country gentleman, fonder of 
 his horses, dogs, and gun than he was 
 of his children. 
 
 As his little daughter became old enough, 
 he had a first-rate governess for her, and 
 William was sent to Eton ; so the brother 
 and sister met but two or three times a 
 year, till she was about fifteen. There was, 
 however, a constant correspondence kept up, 
 so that their afi'ection for each other was 
 not diminished. Then William came home 
 for a year previous to his entering Oxford. 
 It was a very happy year to Rose, they 
 were always together, and, as happy times 
 generally do, it passed very rapidly. Before 
 leaving for Oxford, William told his father 
 he thought, as his sister was now sixteen, 
 it was time to think of his opening his 
 house a little, and entertaining his county 
 neighbours. It was then arranged they 
 were to commence their first gaieties at 
 Easter. 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Easter came, and with it brought William, 
 and with him Mr. Chichester, a young man 
 whose acquaintance he had made at Oxford, 
 and who had just been ordained. George 
 Chichester was a young man of good family, 
 but no property, as fascinating as he was 
 poor, but a high-minded, upright, generous 
 fellow, every one liked George, and no one 
 in any difficulty could get out of it, unless 
 George was there to help them. 
 
 At this time, Rose Fordyce was between 
 sixteen and seventeen, she had never seen 
 anyone at her father's house but those of 
 her father's type, coarse in words, and 
 thoughts, and very often appearance, men 
 who were not fit to come into the drawing- 
 room after dinner, who had no inclination 
 for it, far preferring smoking and drinking 
 with each other ; thev looked on women as 
 necessary evils, but that they need not be 
 annoyed with when they were tired and 
 sleepy. It was therefore by no means surpris-
 
 THE world's furniture. 19 
 
 ing that Rose thought Mr. Chichester 
 something totally distinct from mankind ; 
 she was very pretty, but nothing more, she 
 was neither short nor tall, very black curling 
 hair, a clear but dark complexion, with rosy 
 lips, and rosy cheeks. George Chichester 
 thought nothing about her, beyond her being 
 William's sister, but he could not fail to see 
 that she admired him, but he did not feel much 
 surprised when he was introduced to the 
 principle people that formed her society. He 
 began to pity her, and thought it very sad 
 she should be thrown amongst such a set of 
 rough uncouth creatures ; but after all she 
 was little more than a child, so perhaps it 
 might not matter, and so he thought no 
 more about it. He remained Sir John's 
 guest for a week, and had to leave to perform 
 his duties as curate at a little village in Essex, 
 on the borders of Epping Forest. 
 
 So time went on, and two years had 
 elapsed. William was spending his last 
 
 c 2
 
 term at Oxford, but it was nearly over, and 
 he was anxiously expected at Burwood by 
 his father and sister. His father was proud 
 of him because he was his heir, Rose was 
 fond of him because he seemed to under- 
 stand her, and was always kind to her. He 
 wrote a few days before his return, saying, 
 " My old friend, Chichester, has promised to 
 come with me. I hope you have not for- 
 gotten him." 
 
 Rose's heart jumped about in a most 
 ungovernable manner, she thought she was 
 never so pleased with the idea of William 
 before, and the days seemed to pass very 
 slowly. But when the day arrived, and they 
 too, all her anticipated pleasure had fled, she 
 even got out of the way, and had to be called 
 and hunted for at least a quarter of an hour 
 before she could be found. '* Why, Rose, you 
 look as if you had met a ghost, where are all 
 your roses gone to ?" her brother exclaimed. 
 They soon appeared, and she became as crimson
 
 THE world's furniture. 21 
 
 as she was before pale. She shook hands with 
 George without looking at him, but he saw 
 all, and felt all ; and felt she must have loved 
 him very deeply for two years to have made 
 no change, or if any, to have increased the 
 feelings of almost a child into those of a 
 woman. He thought her wonderfully im- 
 proved, and he could not imagine how it 
 happened that though he had not given a 
 thought about meeting her, now she was 
 there, his heart was beating, and he could 
 not find one word to say for himself. 
 
 It did not take many days before George 
 and Rose perfectly understood each other; 
 but George held nothing but the miserable 
 pay of a curate, Rose's fortune depended 
 entirely on what her father chose to allow 
 her, with the exception of one hundred a 
 year that she had from her mother's fortune. 
 She thought of course her father would 
 be very liberal, and William would be so glad 
 for her to marry his old chum. George
 
 22 THE world's furniture. 
 
 thought a little differently, but neither liking 
 to endure suspense, it was arranged William 
 should be consulted first, and then Sir John's 
 consent to their marriage asked at once. 
 
 Rose went to her room after their decision 
 very happy, and full of bright hopes ; George 
 went at once, and, in his open-hearted manly 
 way, told William his tale, and asked him 
 for his aid with Sir John, as he naturally, 
 expected opposition. Such a conclusion to 
 affairs had never for a moment suggested 
 itself to William, and he was taken by surprise 
 completely ; he was vexed with George for 
 falling in love with his sister, because he 
 liked him, but did not like Rose marrying a 
 man without rank or fortune, and he was 
 vexed with Rose for being such a little 
 fool. 
 
 George instantly saw he should have as 
 much difficulty, if not more, with the brother, 
 as with the father; but it could not be 
 helped, matters had gone too far to retreat ;
 
 THE world's furniture. 23 
 
 he would not if he could, for Rose had 
 become very dear to him. So he said, " I 
 am afraid, Fordyce, the affair is against your 
 wishes, and that I need not look to you to 
 plead my cause with Sir John." 
 
 " There is no use, Chichester, in my trying 
 to make you believe I am pleased, I am not, 
 for to speak plainly, it is a miserable prospect 
 for Rose ; but I won't oppose you with my 
 father, though I cannot help, so I shall leave 
 you to say what you like to him, I will speak 
 to Rose." 
 
 Poor George felt very uncomfortable, he 
 was young, and had never thought of marry- 
 ing ; and even now had never taken into 
 consideration the expenses that, as a married 
 man, would be entailed on him. He had not 
 had time in fact, the whole thing seemed so 
 sudden, so unexpected, but there was nothing 
 for it now but to summon up all the courage 
 he could, and face the proud baronet ; try 
 what best might be done with poverty,
 
 24 THE world's furniture. 
 
 honour and truth, against pride, wealth and 
 ambition. 
 
 He found Sir John very busily engaged, 
 at least having the appearance of being so, 
 in the library, which he always looked on as 
 his own especial room. 
 
 " Oh, are you looking for William, Chi- 
 chester ?" said Sir John, as George opened 
 the door, " he is, I think, in the stables, look- 
 ing at the new mare 1 bought for Rose 
 yesterday." 
 
 " No, Sir John, I have just left William, 
 I came here to ask you to give me a few 
 minutes' conversation." 
 
 George began to feel a little in want of 
 words to express all he had to say, so he 
 waited a moment ; and Sir John telling him 
 to take the arm-chair by the fire, and if it 
 was anything requiring his advice, he should 
 be most happy to tell him what he thought 
 best. However, the condescending speech 
 was all lost on George, who had been gather-
 
 THE world's furniture. 25 
 
 ing together all his argumentative powers, 
 which are generally tolerably strong in an 
 Irishman, and he came out with the upshot 
 of his visit to Sir John before he scarcely 
 knew it himself ; when once fairly launched 
 out with his wishes, he got on very well, and 
 argued as if Sir John had already expressed 
 great disapprobation, whereas the worthy 
 baronet had merely opened his small grey 
 eyes a little wider, and had not uttered a 
 syllable. He let George proceed for some time, 
 and when he paused for a moment, appar- 
 ently only to take breath. Sir John said, 
 
 " Mr. Chichester, I think you forget your 
 position, and my position, pray do not let us 
 waste more time in discussing such a ridicu- 
 lous affair ; I think, however, as you so far 
 forgot yourself as to speak on the subject to 
 my daughter, it would perhaps be wiser for 
 you not to prolong your visit in my house, 
 though I am quite certain Miss Fordyce had 
 too much proper pride ever to have per-
 
 26 
 
 mitted you for one instant to imagine she 
 could consider you in any other light than an 
 acquaintance. I have far other views for my 
 daughter ; I need not add, I think, that I 
 request you will not see her again." 
 
 George, too, was proud, but his pride was 
 of a different sort of stuff from Sir John's ; 
 he got up, bowed, and left the room. He was 
 deeply hurt, he had scarcely been treated like 
 a gentleman ; he would leave the house, and 
 none of them should hear of him again. He 
 walked into the garden, it led down, the 
 farther end of it, across a kind of fenced in 
 field to a little wood. He went in that 
 direction, he wanted to think for a few 
 minutes, for after all, Rose was the daughter 
 of the man who had, as he thought, so 
 insulted him, and he must bear something 
 for her sake ; but he had borne more than 
 most men would, almost more than he him- 
 self could.- But there was Uttle time for him 
 to think, for the moment he entered the
 
 THE world's furniture. 2? 
 
 wood, he heard footsteps, and instantly after- 
 wards William and Rose appeared. She had 
 the remains of tears very visible, but she 
 looked tolerably happy, and a bright smile 
 came over her face on seeing George, it was 
 soon to be overclouded ; but that smile made 
 George a different man, he determined to 
 brave all for her; he would not break her 
 heart, whatever her father and brother chose 
 to do. So he asked William to allow him 
 half an hour with Rose, and if then he would 
 join them. William, who had been softened 
 a little by Rose's appealing ways, and being 
 really very fond of George, was wavering 
 between her prospect of happiness as his 
 wife, or as the wife of one of their county 
 hunting, drinking squires. 
 
 So William left them, and George then 
 told Rose all that had just passed between 
 her father and himself; he could not remain 
 that was certain ; but' w^hat was to be done ? 
 They thought of so many plans, William
 
 28 THE world's furniture. 
 
 would not help them, though he promised to 
 do nothing to aggravate the melee. At last 
 George determined to go to a village three 
 miles from Burwood, where he could remain 
 during the next fortnight, see and hear from 
 Rose, and know how all was going on. He had 
 but a fortnight's more leave, so everything had 
 to be concluded during the time; but they 
 thought a fortnight quite enough for all their 
 plans to be settled, and so indeed it proved. 
 
 William went into his father when he 
 left George and Rose, and heard what had 
 passed ; his father was in a great fury, and 
 threw half the blame on William for bringing 
 him to Burwood. This did not improve Sir 
 John's cause, for William was annoyed at his 
 unjust accusations, and went out at the end 
 of a very long half hour to join his sister, 
 much more inclined to aid them then he was 
 before. 
 
 " My father is much annoyed, Chichester, 
 but it can't be helped, and will blow over ;
 
 THE world's furniture. 29 
 
 there may be happy days for you and Rose 
 yet." . ' 
 
 They all went in, and that afternoon 
 George left. Ten days afterwards and Rose 
 was gone too, and when they heard from her, 
 she had become George Chichester's wife, 
 determined to cling to him rich or poor. 
 William was a little annoyed at first, but not 
 so much so, as if his father had been less 
 violent. Sir John swore he would never see 
 her again, and would not leave her one 
 shilling ; and he kept his word, he died some 
 four years later, leaving everything to William, 
 and had refused to receive a letter even from 
 Rose, forbidding William also to have any 
 communication with her of any kind. 
 
 Rose felt William's neglect of her, which 
 she imagined voluntary, very deeply, but she 
 never complained ; she found no difficulty in 
 putting aside all her girlish habits and 
 ways, suiting herself to her new position of a 
 poor curate's wife ; she loved her husband
 
 30 THE world's furniture. 
 
 devotedly, and she was quite happy. Year 
 after year elapsing, and still no notice taken 
 of any of her letters, she at length gave up 
 writing, and gave up too thinking ahout it ; 
 and so when George came honae one day, 
 and told her that he had heard the news of 
 Sir John's death, she felt it less than was 
 almost natural ; but then her father did not 
 love her husband, and how could she love 
 any one who did not love him. She ex- 
 pected to hear now from her brother, but no 
 letter came, and so the whole past was nearly 
 obliterated from her memory. 
 
 She had been married some five or six 
 years now, and was very happy, she had 
 two little boys, the eldest three, and the 
 youngest just born, Arthur and Frank, 
 whose acquaintance we have made already. 
 It was now for the first time that troubles 
 seemed to gather round them ; the old Rector 
 died, and the newly appointed one, let George 
 Chichester understand he should bring his
 
 THE world's furniture. 31 
 
 own curate with him. This was a dreadful 
 state for him to find himself in. A wife and 
 two children, and only her £100 a year to 
 depend on ; he now thought of the madness 
 of his having dragged Rose down to this 
 miserable position ; but he must do some- 
 thing ; he must instantly set to work and 
 look out for another curacy. He advertized, 
 he wrote scores of letters, he went to London 
 daily, but all to no purpose, there was nothing 
 to be had. Six months passed, the new 
 Rector and new curate had arrived, and 
 George with his family had to turn out of 
 their happy little home ; they took lodgings 
 in London, and George hunted up a few of 
 his old college friends, but the friends of our 
 school or college days are not generally so 
 anxious to renew the acquaintance when they 
 find us poor, and in want of assistance. 
 
 There was one, however, Frank Bingham, 
 who had stood godfather to his youngest boy, 
 that cared a little whether George was rich or
 
 32 THE world's furniture. 
 
 poor ; he had once fought a battle for him at 
 school, and Frank had never forgotten what 
 he owed George Chichester for that : and so 
 he not only promised to exert himself, but 
 did do so and finally succeeded, but as he said, 
 very badly, for all he could get was the 
 chaplaincy at Calais, through his old friend, 
 Mr. Western. 
 
 But that was something. They could live 
 there with Rose's money, and what he would 
 get, better even than they did in Essex. But 
 they had to wait for this, and nearly eighteen 
 months elapsed between the promise of his 
 obtaining it, and the time that we saw them 
 all land in Calais ; for the old clergyman who 
 was there, did not like giving up the duty, 
 though he was so aged that few could under- 
 stand a word he said. And so he went on 
 from month to month, and, probably, w^ould 
 have gone on till he died, had not Mr. 
 Western written for Mr. Chichester to come, 
 as, if he did not, Mr. Letheby never would
 
 THE world's furniture. 33 
 
 give in. It was still a few weeks after 
 George's arrival, before Mr. Letheby fairly 
 was off. 
 
 But it is time now we should see how the 
 Chichesters get on in their new home. 
 
 The word * new' put before home, always 
 gives it a chilling sound ; it quite takes away 
 the sweet recollections that are generally 
 called forth by the word itself. And how 
 many heart-aches there generally are in a 
 new home ! 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 34 THE world's furniture. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The lodgings Mr. Western had secured 
 for the new English clergyman, were in the 
 Rue Francaise, a street running parallel with 
 his own, the gate leading into the Basse 
 Ville, forming, as it were, a separation to the 
 two streets, which, otherwise, might have 
 been one. 
 
 The entrance to the house was very good. 
 You went in the great, big green-painted 
 doors which took you into a court-yard with 
 a little garden beyond it, and you turned 
 to the left on entering, which led to the 
 stairs ; the rooms were on the first floor, 
 tolerably comfortable and pretty.
 
 THE world's furniture. 35 
 
 But it was an old-fashioned house, and 
 though the walls could be hidden with a few 
 prints of Napoleon's exploits, still you could 
 not cover the ceiling, which looked very like 
 a barn painted, for the great, heavy wooden 
 beams ran right across the sitting-room, and 
 nothing could hide them. The floor was 
 painted more in the German style than 
 French, but there was a piece of carpet in the 
 centre, apparently for the legs of the table to 
 be a little bit warmer than the legs of the in- 
 mates, for nothing but the table benefited by 
 the arrangement. The fire-place, too, looked 
 as if it were obstinate on one point, and that 
 was, against having a large fire. 
 
 However, these ideas only struck the Chi- 
 chesters on their first instalment, and they 
 wore off with time, and all else was what 
 they required, plenty of room, and very 
 clean. 
 
 They had been in Calais now about six 
 months, and all seemed going on very quietly 
 
 D 2
 
 36 THE world's furniture. 
 
 and satisfactorily. Arthur went to a French 
 tutor, Monsieur Renaud, daily, and was im- 
 proving in every way rapidly. He was a 
 beautiful boy ; very dark, with a large quan- 
 tity of black curly hair, large grey eyes — 
 their expression was their drawback, they 
 gave you an idea of bad temper, and his 
 mouth, which was peculiarly small and 
 pretty, had also the same fault ; but every 
 one noticed and petted the handsome English 
 boy. Frank was too young and too delicate 
 to go with his brother, and his time was 
 chiefly devoted to Don, and Don's to him. 
 
 Mr. Western was almost their only con- 
 stant visitor. He w^as a kind-hearted, liberal- 
 minded man ; at the time the Chichesters 
 first arrived, he must have been about sixty 
 years of age, his hair perfectly white, with 
 rather a florid complexion, and a stout, 
 strongly-built frame. He took a great fancy 
 to little Frank, probably because he found 
 that Don had done the same. It is as-
 
 THE world's furniture. 37 
 
 tonishing how very sensitive we are about 
 our dogs, quite as much, if not more so, than 
 we are about our children. And Frank had 
 paid devoted attention to Don, whereas Ar- 
 thur rather treated him like a dog. 
 
 One day, Mr. Western came in after 
 there had been a heavy shower, so that both 
 master and dog had their fept rather muddy. 
 Mrs. Chichester was sitting at the table writ- 
 ing, the two boys were together at the win- 
 dow ; Arthur, with a book in his hand, look- 
 ing very earnest, and not over-pleased, little 
 Frank had a piece of paper, out of which he 
 was trying very hard to cut a dog ; his 
 small, delicate fingers seemed scarcely strong 
 enough to hold the scissors, but yet he 
 grasped them very tightly. He raised his 
 face up on hearing footsteps, and a bright 
 look came over his gentle, loving face. He 
 was like his father in disposition, affectionate 
 and generous beyond measure. 
 
 The door opened, and in bounded Don;
 
 38 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Don's embraces were sometimes rather 
 rough, and on this occasion particularly so, 
 for he upset Frank off the stool he was 
 sitting on, and came with his wet coat 
 against Arthur's clean dress. Now if 
 Arthur was more put out by one thing than 
 another, it was in his clothes having a spot 
 of dirt of any kind on them, it was quite a 
 sufficient punishment for him at any time to 
 be obliged to put on a soiled dress. 
 
 " Get away you dirty, horrid dog, look 
 what you have done," cried Arthur, h's eyes 
 flashing, and his colour rising till nis face 
 was scarlet. 
 
 " Here, Don, come here, sir, go out and stay 
 on the mat," said Mr. Western, opening the 
 door, out of which Don slunk very much 
 ashamed of himself, not exactly understand- 
 ing why he was treated so. 
 
 In the meantime, Frank got up, pulled his 
 little frock straight, pushed his curly hair off 
 his face, laid the paper and scissors on the
 
 THE world's furniture. 39 
 
 stool, and pushed it up into a corner of the 
 room, and then went up to Mr. Western 
 and said, with his eyes full of tears, making 
 them look more loving than ever, "You 
 don't turn me out of the room when I come 
 and see you and have dirty shoes, but you 
 have sent Don away f and out he went to 
 look after his favourite. 
 
 " What a heart that child has got," said 
 Mr. Western, " he will never do to fight his 
 way in the world, you must make him more 
 selfish and less sensitive, Mrs. Chichester, or 
 he will have many a heart ache, that my 
 friend Arthur here will be spared. I am 
 very sorry, my little man, Don was so demon- 
 strative : has he made you very dirty ?" 
 
 "Oh, I think I can rub off the spots," 
 said Arthur, who had been engaged ever 
 since the misfortune trying to do so. 
 
 " I have come to tell you I am off for ten 
 days to England, can I do anything for you, 
 Mrs. Chichester ? buy any pins or needles, or
 
 40 THE world's furniture. 
 
 tea, or any of those things that ladies won't 
 believe to be good here ?" 
 
 "No, I shall not trouble you with any 
 commissions, but I think George wishes to 
 send a book over," she replied, " if you will 
 take care of it for him. But I am very 
 sorry you are going, we shall miss you dread- 
 fully even for so short a time ; it is very sel- 
 fish of me, is it not ? but I don't know what 
 George will do for his long walks, he will 
 never go alone, and they do him so much 
 good, though I fear he is not very strong ; 
 don't you think he looks ill?" and as she 
 asked the question, such an anxious expres- 
 sion passed over her face, that had Mr. 
 Western thought so he could not have said 
 it, so he merely answered ; 
 
 •*No, indeed Chichester is looking better 
 since he came here, I think." 
 
 His answer was true, for he did look 
 better than the day he landed, but he was 
 not what he was when in England. He was
 
 THE world's furniture. 41 
 
 paler if possible, and much thinner, and 
 he had acquired a slight stoop, which 
 gave him the appearance of always looking 
 weary, and as if he had not the strength to 
 hold himself upright. George had never 
 been a strong man, and the anxiety he had 
 suffered for the last three years on account of 
 his wife and children, was beginning to tell 
 upon him. 
 
 " Do you think he will be in soon, for I 
 should like to see him ; I must go by to- 
 night's mail, and, therefore, I have not 
 too much time to get everything in order 
 for me to be able to go in peace.'' 
 
 " I don't think he will be very long," she 
 replied, " he was only going to see those 
 English people that arrived last week, and 
 that are living on the Place ; 1 think a physi- 
 cian and his daughter." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know who you mean, Dr. 
 and Miss Davies ; I have seen them walking 
 on the pier, he seems very ill ; I believe
 
 42 THE world's furniture. 
 
 they have come over for change of air only. 
 Have you seen them, did they call on 
 you?" 
 
 " No, I have not ; they called but I was 
 out, I suppose I must return their visit, but 
 I find little time for going out." 
 
 " Well, I must be off. God bless you ! 
 take care of yourself, and don't be worrying 
 about your husband, he will get so strong 
 this winter that you will begin and wonder 
 how you could ever have thought him deli- 
 cate. Good-bye, Arthur, what shall I bring 
 you from England ?" 
 
 " A pocket knife if you please, Mr. West- 
 ern. 
 
 " Very well, so I will, only mamma will 
 scold me if you cut your fingers ; but where 
 is my little Frank? I thought he was 
 here." 
 
 *'No," said Arthur, "he went out of the 
 room almost directly you came." 
 
 " I must look for him, for I must
 
 THE world's furniture. 43 
 
 say good-bye to him, too;*' and out he 
 went. 
 
 He had not far to look, for on opening 
 the door he saw Frank on his knees with a 
 towel in his hand, rubbing Don all over as if 
 he were drying a child. Don was lying on a 
 mat in front of one of the bed-room doors, 
 licking Frank's hand every time it came 
 within reach of his mouth, and quite con- 
 tented with his position. The performance 
 was just drawing to a close as Mr. Western 
 came out, and he heard Frank say, " There, 
 Don, now you are as nice and clean as 
 Arthur is, and you shan't be turned out of 
 the room ; do you feel comfortable, Don, 
 dear old fellow," and he put his little face 
 down and buried it in Don's long hair. 
 
 " Holloa, Frank what are you about ? I 
 have only just missed you. Here, I have come 
 to say good-bye to you, for I am going away 
 for a few days. What shall I bring you 
 back ?"
 
 44 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Frank, during this speech, had slipped oflF 
 Don, and sat on the mat by the side of him, 
 and put his arm round the dog's neck, who 
 had also made a move on seeing his master, 
 and sat upright, ready to start at the first 
 order. 
 
 " You are going away, I am very sorry, 
 but you will come back soon, wont you ?" 
 and he got off the floor and took hold of 
 Mr. Western's hand, " and you wont take 
 Don, will you ?" 
 
 " Oh no, Frank, I shall leave Don to take 
 care of Mrs. Jones, and you can call for him 
 whenever you like for a walk." 
 
 " But you must not leave him with Mrs. 
 Jones, she says dogs are always in the way, 
 and no room is fit to be seen if a dog is let 
 into it, and I know she won't give Don any- 
 thing to eat, don't leave him with Mrs. 
 Jones ; I don't want you to bring me any- 
 thing back, ouly let him stop here ; I know 
 papa will let me have him, oh do, dear Mr.
 
 THE world's furniture. 45 
 
 Western. You will stay with me, Don, 
 wont you ?" and the child put both his arms 
 round the dog's neck, and held him very 
 tight, for fear he should get away. "Oh, 
 here is papa ; papa you will let me have 
 Don while Mr. Western is away, wont you ? 
 he wont be happy with Mrs. Jones. I will 
 take such care of him, and always wipe his 
 feet if they are muddy, you must, you must, 
 papa." 
 
 " What is all this about?" said Mr. Chi- 
 chester, who had now got within distinct 
 hearing, " you going away, Western, and 
 Frank taking away Mrs. Jones' character, 
 what does it all mean ?" 
 
 "Why it is simply that I have to run 
 over to England for ten days, and I came to 
 say good-bye to you all, and see if I can do 
 anything for you, and Frank on hearing it, 
 insists upon having the entire charge of 
 Don."
 
 46 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " Well, come in and tell me what you are 
 going for." 
 
 " No, I must not go in again, for I am 
 pressed for time ; but your wife tells me you 
 have a book you want taken over, can 
 you bring it to me this evening, and then 
 we can have half an hour's chat before I 
 start." 
 
 "Well, I will," said George, and Mr. 
 Western kissed Frank, and was nearly gone, 
 when the child again begged to have Don 
 left with him. 
 
 " I will settle with your papa to-night, my 
 boy, and if he wishes it, you shall have Don 
 under your own charge." 
 
 Frank was quite satisfied, he knew his 
 father never refused him anything, he fol- 
 lowed him into the sitting-room, and made 
 him promise to bring Don back at night when 
 he went to see Mr. Western. 
 
 " How tired you look, George," said his 
 wife, after he had sat down, and sent Frank
 
 THE world's furniture. 47 
 
 off to his paper and scissors again, " you 
 look worried too, what is the matter ?" 
 
 " Nothing, Rose, it is very warm out, and 
 I walked rather faster than usual." He had 
 that worn look about his face that often 
 crossed it now. 
 
 " Did you see the Davies' ?" 
 
 "Yes, and they are very anxious to see 
 you and the boys ; you must call there, Rose, 
 as soon as you can, they seem nice friendly 
 people." 
 
 " I will, only I have so lost the habit of 
 paying visits, that it seems quite an under- 
 taking now even to make one, they are living 
 over that large shop on the Place, where they 
 sell those pretty carved ivory things, are they 
 
 not r 
 
 "Yes, and very good rooms they have, 
 and it is a cheerful look out for the old 
 gentleman, as he cannot walk a great deal." 
 
 " How you will miss Mr. Western, 
 George, you must take Arthur to walk with
 
 48 THE world's furniture. 
 
 you, for you must not give that up, I am 
 sure it does you so much good." 
 
 About a week after Mr. Western had 
 gone, Rose gave birth to a Httle girl, it was 
 on the 18 th of August, about a year after 
 their arrival in Calais. It was a cause of 
 great delight to Rose that she had a little 
 daughter, she had always thought a daughter 
 must be so much more to a mother than a 
 son possibly could be. She knew when her 
 boys grew up ; they would have to leave her, 
 and even before, for their school-days must 
 soon begin, Arthur's had already, and though 
 as yet he was only away during part of the 
 day, very soon they would have to make 
 some arrangements about sending him over 
 to England to a boarding school. She should 
 keep Frank at home longer, because he was 
 a delicate child, and not able to bear the 
 rough usuage of school boys ; still his turn 
 too must come sooner or latter ; but with a 
 girl it is so different -, she need never part
 
 THE world's furniture. 49 
 
 with her, she could teach her a great deal 
 herself, and she could have masters at home ; 
 and it was a long, long time time to look 
 forward to, to when she might marry ; but 
 that was not parting with her, on the con- 
 trary, she should gain a son, and not lose a 
 daughter. 
 
 So Rose was very happy. What a mer- 
 ciful Providence it is that veils the future 
 from our eyes, what one of us would, if we 
 could, read the future. We think, perhaps, at 
 times, we should like to know where we shall 
 be, or what we may be doing so many 
 months, or so many years hence ; but were 
 it really in our power, we should shrink from 
 it, and rather live on in ignorance of what 
 our fate may be. For we all have our trials, 
 and we generally feel there are yet plenty in 
 store for us ; we are born to them, and 
 women, I think, must have been born for 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Western returned when Rose's baby 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 50 THE world's furniture. 
 
 was a fortnight old, he had been longer 
 absent than he wished or expected, people 
 generally are. I never yet knew anyone leave 
 home for a given time, that something, or 
 some one did not interfere with the return. He 
 had a warm welcome from all the family, Don 
 included, who had quite become one of them; 
 he even looked on the baby as an intrusion, 
 and was not quite sure at first how to re- 
 ceive it, but Frank took him in hand, and 
 made him pay gentle respect to his little 
 sister. 
 
 In Catholic countries every saint has some 
 especial day, and as that of St. Hilda hap- 
 pened to be on the day of the Chichester's 
 arrival in Calais, they decided on that name 
 for their little girl, as there was no one 
 either Rose or George were anxious to name 
 their little girl after ; and Hilda being a pretty 
 name, Hilda it was decided to be. Mr. 
 Western was to be her godfather. Miss 
 Davies her godmother, and Rose was to be
 
 THE WORLDS FURNITURE. 51 
 
 the other. There was no church, so George 
 christened her in his own drawing-room, 
 when she was about three weeks old. 
 
 E 2
 
 52 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Four years have elapsed since the close of 
 the foregoing chapter, and though great is 
 the change that Time has produced in ap- 
 pearances in our little family group, yet 
 circumstances have remained much as they 
 were. I must try and let you see yourself 
 the changes, and I don't think I can do so 
 in any better way, than taking them one by 
 one, as they are, and letting you see a little 
 into their thoughts and feelings. George 
 Chichester has for five years discharged the 
 duties of British Chaplain at Calais, as few 
 would have done, discharged them willingly, 
 and conscientiously. You perhaps think
 
 THE world's furniture. 53 
 
 there could be little for him to do — you are 
 wrong, he had much to do ; it is true there 
 were few of the ordinary duties imposed on 
 a clergyman in England, but, nevertheless, 
 there were duties to perform that few clergy- 
 men would have done. 
 
 His chief task lay in visiting and offering 
 such consolation as he could to the many of 
 his countrymen that fled over there for refuge 
 from the disgrace of imprisonment ; sad were 
 the histories he daily had to listen to, but he 
 was never weary of well doing, and he had a 
 kind of sympathy for these poor exiles, which 
 he was almost unconscious of himself, that 
 rendered him pitiful and courteous to all. 
 
 The second winter he passed in Calais told 
 sadly on his health ; the winter of 1829-1830 
 was one of the most bitter any of the inhabi- 
 tants ever remembered. The cold was so 
 intense that many died from exposure to it, 
 and Mr. Chichester, who could never have 
 been considered a strong man, felt it severely ;
 
 54 THE world's furniture. 
 
 he had a serious attack on his chest in the 
 January, which so reduced him, that it was 
 months before he felt equal to any exertion. 
 Each successive winter found him less able 
 to bear the searching cold of the climate, and 
 we now find him at the end of the year 1833, 
 sadly changed from the George Chichester 
 we first became acquainted with. He still 
 performs the duty on Sunday, but that is all 
 he is able to do, he can no longer take his 
 walks with Mr. Western, nor has he done so 
 for more than a year ; he is the shadow of 
 his former self, his stoop has increased as 
 his strength has diminished, and a nasty 
 hacking cough is constantly annoying him. 
 
 The change in George has not failed to 
 work an equal change in his wife; her in- 
 creasing anxiety for him has so worked upon 
 her, that not a vestige of youth is left. It is 
 true she has passed the years that are gener- 
 ally termed young, but many a woman of 
 three-and-thirty is still very youthful ; and
 
 THE world's furniture. 55 
 
 how often are women, not married, termed 
 " girls" when they are even nearer forty than 
 thirty ! But Rose cannot certainly be called 
 a girl, scarcely a young woman, there are 
 lines in her face, and a compression about 
 the mouth, that tell of the wear she has gone 
 through, and the restless days she has passed. 
 
 George never now goQS out without her, 
 he will take nothing but what she gives him, 
 and he never tries to exert himself unless 
 she urges him to do something to please her. 
 She even writes all his sermons. 
 
 Saturday afternoon is as regularly set apart 
 by her for writing the sermon for the next 
 day, as it was by himself when he was first 
 ordained. She does all cheerfully. She 
 never regrets the day that made her his wife ; 
 she will now tend him as he before shielded 
 her. A thought of her brother sometimes 
 crosses her, that he might have sought some 
 news of her, but she bears no ill-will towards 
 him, for he used to hke George, and so she
 
 66 THE world's furniture. 
 
 only supposes he cannot trace him. Arthur 
 is now shortly expected home for his holi- 
 days ; for the last two years he has been over 
 to an English school at Chiswick, under the 
 care of a clergyman, who unable to get a 
 living any other way, was obliged to take 
 pupils ; he receives Arthur at rather a less 
 rate than his other ones, because he is a 
 clergyman's son, and so the Chichesters were 
 able to send him their boy, which otherwise 
 with their small means would have been im- 
 possible. 
 
 Arthur is a wonderfully handsome boy, 
 about eleven years old; he has not much 
 altered from what he was, excepting that he 
 is taller, the expression of his face is the 
 same ; he is proud, rather overbearing, he 
 hates being told he is good looking, his dis- 
 position resembles his mother's father, more 
 than any one's else ; he is a brave, manly 
 fellow, and has a proportionate contempt for 
 all who are not so.
 
 THE world's furniture. 57 
 
 Frank is the same as he was, gentle, 
 loving, and generous beyond measure, still 
 delicate, and unequal to cope with his brother 
 in many of his amusements ; devoted to his 
 sister Hilda, and Don, who has now, we may 
 say, completely become his property ; but 
 Frank is quite as tall as Arthur, so slight and 
 fragile looking that he looks as if a breath 
 of wind must injure him. He feels proud of 
 his dark manly brother, and looks up to him, 
 as if all he did must be right. Don never 
 quite returned to his original home, after his 
 first visit to Frank ; he occasionally de- 
 voted half a day to his old master, but the 
 new one seemed more to his taste, he 
 gave back with interest all Frank's affection 
 for him. 
 
 But I must not forget Hilda, for she it is, 
 I suppose, that I must term my heroine. 
 Hilda at this time was between four and five 
 years old. She was a small, graceful child, 
 not pretty, but peculiar looking; she was
 
 58 THE world's furniture. 
 
 dark and pale, more of a Spanish complexion ; 
 her chief beauty was her eyes, and they were 
 wonderful, they w^ere very large, and either 
 grey or blue, for they looked one colour at 
 one time, and then seemed to change with 
 the expression of her face; her hair was 
 black, and very wavy; her nose small and 
 straight, but her mouth it is difficult to 
 describe, for it was like her eyes, rarely the 
 same ; her lips were red and full, and when 
 she smiled, her whole face lighted up, it was 
 like sunshine after a cloud passing by, for 
 the natural expression of her face was sombre. 
 She was a quiet child, but had deep feel- 
 ing, a slight to Frank from anyone w^ould 
 never have been forgotten or forgiven, she 
 was devotedly attached to him and her 
 father. 
 
 Mr. Chichester was sitting in an arm- 
 chair by the fire, with Httle Hilda on his 
 knee; he was leaning back with his eyes 
 dosed, and she was playing with his hair.
 
 THE world's furniture. 59 
 
 After tiring herself with that amusement, she 
 sat perfectly still for a minute or two watch- 
 ing his face, at last she exclaimed, " Papa, 
 your face is not tumhled like Dr. Davies, 
 why is his face so ugly, your nice face wont 
 look like his, will it ?" 
 
 " No, my darling, I don't think it ever will, 
 for I shall never be old like Dr. Davies." 
 
 " 1 hope not, papa, for I should not like 
 to kiss you if it were." 
 
 " Should you be very sorry, little Hilda, 
 if I left you, never, never to see you 
 again." 
 
 George had often thought he should not 
 live long, but he had never before alluded to 
 it to any one, and it seemed, after having 
 uttered the words, to strike him more 
 forcibly, almost as if it occurred to him the 
 first time, and it brought with it such a train 
 of sad forebodings, that he scarcely heard his 
 little girl's reply, " If you go away, papa, I 
 shall go too, do you hear ; you shan't go and
 
 60 THE world's furniture. 
 
 leave me; when are you going, tell nie, 
 papa ?'* 
 
 Thus forced to answer the child, he said, 
 " If 1 go away from you, Hilda, it is because 
 God will choose to take me ; and you must 
 stay with poor mamma, and make her as 
 happy as you can, by being very good, and 
 doing all she tells you, because mamma, too, 
 will be sorry for me to leave her." 
 
 Hilda thought for a moment, she felt very 
 much inclined to cry, but she knew it 
 always vexed her father whenever she did, 
 and at that moment she would rather do any- 
 thing than that. Her large eyes were full of 
 tears, but she kept them from falling; at 
 length a happy thought seemed to cross her 
 childish mind, for she smiled, and looking 
 into her father's face, said, " I know, we will 
 all go together, you shan't go alone ; mamma, 
 and Arthur, and Frank, and Don, and then 
 we shall none of us want to cry, for I am 
 sure I should if you left me."
 
 THE world's furniture. 61 
 
 They were here interrupted by the entrance 
 of Mrs. Chichester and Frank, who had been 
 down to the pier to meet Arthur, he was 
 expected by that day's boat, but it had not 
 connie in, nor was it even in sight, and they 
 attributed its delay to a probable fog in the 
 Thames. They came in to have an early 
 dinner, and start off again. Little Hilda full 
 of what she had been talking about to her 
 father, was intent on telling her new plan to 
 her mother and Frank, but George stopped 
 her by saying, " Not now, Hilda, it is a little 
 secret between us, and you must not tell 
 any one yet." The idea of having a secret 
 was quite enough to silence her, and before 
 the dinner was over, the whole thing had 
 passed from her mind. 
 
 The steamer did not arrive till nearly six 
 o'clock, she had been detained as supposed 
 by the fog ; Arthur, however, was none the 
 worse, he was very glad to be home again, 
 and the first few days were passed in detail-
 
 62 THE world's furniture. 
 
 ing his school-boy exploits. Frank used to 
 feel very proud of his brother, and longed to 
 go back with him to school, to be able to 
 join in all his gallant deeds. But before the 
 holidays were over, there was a deep gloom 
 thrown over our little circle, for George's 
 state at length became too evident for his 
 wife not to be aware of it. 
 
 It is strange that those nearest and dearest 
 to us, are the last to see any danger; we 
 might be almost within a few hours of death 
 itself, and I believe those immediately about 
 us would not perceive it, were it not for the 
 ominous look of the doctor, or the unguarded 
 remarks occasionally dropped by acquain- 
 tances. So it was with Rose, she seenied 
 quite blind to her husband's state, and yet 
 for months he had been gradually getting 
 weaker and weaker, and each day saw some 
 usual employment given up, from the want 
 of strength to perform it, but she only thought 
 him rather poorly, not very strong, getting
 
 THE world's furniture. 63 
 
 fonder of sitting at home than he used to be. 
 But death was dealing with him. That 
 there could be a chance she should be parted 
 from him, that she would be left to struggle 
 on by herself, without George to look to for 
 comfort and support, never for an instant 
 crossed her mind. And so when the truth 
 at length dawned, when one day old Dr. 
 Davies came, and said he thought it his 
 duty to tell her he considered her husband 
 in a precarious state ; it came like a death 
 blow to her. It only needed the little 
 wedge put in, the whole flood of misery and 
 sorrow rushed into her heart, and it felt ready 
 to burst. If she had been told he was dead, 
 she could not have felt more agony than 
 she did. 
 
 She sat down, and held her hands tight over 
 her eyes, she could not have opened .them, she 
 could not think if her eyes were open ; as it 
 was, it was impossible for her to realise the 
 idea of her beloved George's death, for that
 
 64 THE world's furniture. 
 
 was vvhat Dr. Davies' words implied, he 
 knew he meant that, though he did not say 
 so. How was she to believe it — how was she 
 to face this dreadful blow ? and yet there was 
 no escape from it, she would have to bear it 
 for her children's sake. At the thought of 
 her children, she almost wished they might 
 all die, that she might be quite alone, she 
 thought she could bear it better if all went. 
 
 How long she sat there, she knew not ; 
 years seemed to have passed over her to 
 judge from her face as she looked up on 
 hearing some one come into the room, it was 
 Arthur — he came to tell her, his father 
 wanted her. She looked at the boy's bright 
 beautiful face, and felt all a mother's strong 
 love for her first born child come over her, 
 she no longer wished him to die too ; she 
 got up instantly, and passed her hand through 
 his jet black curly hair,' and kissed him, and 
 then went to her husband in his room, for he 
 had not yet left it. For the last three weeks he
 
 THE world's furniture. 65 
 
 had been unable to get up till the middle of 
 the day, and this morning he felt he was not 
 even able to do that, so he had sent for his 
 wife, to ask her to do some trifle, that owing 
 to his inability to do it, would otherwise be 
 undone. 
 
 He looked at her as she came in, the sun 
 was shining brightly, though it was a 
 bitterly cold day, the snow on the roofs of the 
 opposite houses made the light more dazzling. 
 George asked her to draw down the blind, 
 the glare was too great for him, but it enabled 
 him to see the change in his wife's face. 
 She drew the blind down, and took a chair 
 and sat down by the side of his bed. 
 
 " What can I do for you, George ?" she 
 could scarcely command her voice, for as she 
 looked into his face, she felt the truth of Dr. 
 Davies' words, and that he indeed would not 
 be with her long ; how could she have been 
 so blind ; if she had only known it sooner, how 
 much more she would have been with him, but 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 THE world's furniture. 
 
 she would not leave him now for an instant, 
 every moment it pleased God to spare him 
 to her, she would devote to him. She laid 
 her hand on his as she spoke to him, it 
 looked so thin, and so weak, as if he had not 
 the power to lift it. 
 
 " Rose, dearest, something is wrong with 
 you, what is it ? You look as if some dire 
 sorrow had fallen on you ; you must tell me, 
 I cannot bear to see you so." 
 
 " Do I, George ?" 
 
 She tried to smile, but the attempt only 
 made her do what she had been steeling her- 
 self against, and she burst into tears ; she 
 laid her head down, and wept long and 
 bitterly, but after the paroxism had passed 
 off, she felt better, as if she could talk, and 
 she determined nothing: ag^ain should make 
 her give way, she would for his sake hide 
 her grief. 
 
 " Dear George, you must think me very 
 childish, but I feel nervous and uncomfort-
 
 THE world's furniture. 67 
 
 able this morning, and T am anxious about 
 you, you don't get stronger. I think the 
 winters here have been too cold for you, I 
 should like, if possible, for us to get back to 
 England ; I think if you could get a curacy, 
 however small, or anything there, would be 
 better than staying here. I shall write to 
 William, it is now ten years since I have 
 heard of him, and 1 am sure he cannot be 
 still unkindly disposed towards me ; he will 
 do something for you. I would never have 
 thought of writing for myself, but for you I 
 can, for I long to get you back to England," 
 she talked very fast, and seemed to gain 
 firmness as she went on. It was a new idea 
 writing to her brother, and she thought after 
 all, if they did go to England, George might 
 get better ; Dr. Davies did not tell her there 
 was no hope, that was all her own idea, she 
 had come to the conclusion that George was 
 so very ill, but he might not be after all. 
 '*No, Rose, don't buoy yourself up with a 
 F 2
 
 68 THE world's furniture. 
 
 vain hope, I now know the cause of your 
 anxious looks, some one has told you that I 
 am not long to be with you. Listen, my 
 dearest wife, I have felt for some months I 
 could not be with you much longer ; T know 
 myself the state I am in, and my sorrow at 
 leaving you with those three poor children, 
 and no one for you to look to, has, I fear, only 
 increased the evil, and may cause you to be 
 thrown alone into the wide world a little 
 sooner than might have been. You must 
 not give way so, for my sake you must bear 
 up ; and remember that God who sends the 
 wound, will also send what is needful to heal it. 
 It is hard for us to part, but you must try and 
 be thankful that we have been spared to 
 each other so long. Write to your brother, 
 but not for me, write for yourself. Tell him 
 I shall not be long with you to protect you, 
 that you hope he has forgotten any annoy- 
 ance your marriage may have- caused him ; 
 tell him all in fact that you can about your-
 
 THE world's furniture. 69 
 
 self, and also from me, that if he is able, it 
 would be a great comfort if he could come 
 over, that I might feel I left you under his 
 care and protection." 
 
 George stopped more from want of strength 
 to go on, than from want of words ; he felt 
 a great relief, however, at his having spoken 
 to his wife of his state, he could now think 
 calmly of her future, and if her brother came 
 to her, he could die peacefully, knowing her 
 to be well cared for. He sent Rose away, 
 for he heard Mr. Western coming up, and he 
 thought it would spare her unnecessary 
 sorrow to see any one just yet. 
 
 A few minutes after she left, Mr. Western 
 came in, he had stopped to speak to his 
 little favourite, Hilda. He was very little 
 altered from when we first knew him, his 
 hair may have been a little whiter, but 
 nothing more. He came in, with his usual 
 cheerful cheering face, and his " Well, Chi- 
 chester, how are you ?" but a sad expression
 
 70 THE world's furniture. 
 
 soon chased the other away, for it was im- 
 possible for him not to see the change a few 
 hours even had worked on his friend. No 
 doubt, too, the excitement of his conversation 
 with his wife had fatigued him, and given 
 him a more languid look than usual. 
 
 A smile came over his countenance, and he 
 opened his eyes slowly. " Much the same, I 
 think, it does me good to see you though, 
 and especially just now, I was wishing for 
 you," he paused a moment, and then con- 
 tinued, " I have much to ask you to do for 
 me, Western, for you must know, as well as 
 my poor wife does now, that my days are 
 numbered, and I think I have not many 
 before T shall be called away from all those 
 dear ones here. You know our history, and 
 you know the deplorable state Rose will be 
 left in if her brother does not help her. I 
 have just sent her to write to him, she 
 thought of doing so on my account, thinking 
 English air might do me good, but I know,
 
 THE world's furniture. 71 
 
 and I have endeavoured to make her know 
 too, that I am beyond the aid of anything 
 this world can do for me ; but I wish her to 
 write of herself, telling him her position, and 
 I cannot help hoping that he will not dis- 
 regard her request for his protection. I 
 should wish, if I am spared a few days 
 longer, for him to come over, that I might 
 myself give her over to his care ; but if any- 
 thing sudden should occur to me, or should 
 by any chance the letter be delayed — will you, 
 Western," and George took hold of his 
 hand, and raised himself up in his bed, " will 
 you try and comfort my poor w^ife — will you 
 try and protect her till she should hear from 
 her brother — will you do for her what you 
 would were she your daughter ?" 
 
 Mr. Western could not reply for a few mi- 
 nutes, he was taken so by surprise, that he too 
 felt as if till now he had never thought poor 
 Chichester was anything more than rather 
 delicate ; he wondered he had not noticed the
 
 72 THE world's furniture. 
 
 alteration in him ; be had become as fond of 
 bim as if be bad been a younger brotber, be 
 bad grown so accustomed to bim, tbat be 
 could not picture to bimself losing bim. His 
 voice sbook as be pressed bis band, and re- 
 plied, '* I will, God bless you !" and be got 
 up and left tbe room. He could not stay for 
 fear of seeing tbe poor wife, and be could 
 not bave said anything to comfort ber; be 
 rusbed out of tbe bouse for fear of meeting 
 ber, and went to see if old Dr. Davies could 
 not give bim some consolation and bope. 
 
 Tbe Davies', from tbeir first coming, to 
 Calais in tbe summer, bad continued to 
 do so every year till tbe last, wben tbey 
 determined to try tbe winter ; tbey bad be- 
 come attached to the place and several of 
 tbe people, and tbey felt happier in Calais 
 than elsewhere. Tbe daughter seemed almost 
 as old as ber father, she looked one of those 
 people tbat never could bave been young, or 
 knew young feelings, but she was very good ;
 
 THE world's furniture. 73 
 
 her face, though like old parchment, had a 
 henign expression, there was always a word 
 of sympathy ready for those in sorrow ; she 
 seemed to have gone through so much her- 
 self, that she knew what the sufferings of 
 others must be. 
 
 But there Mr. Western gained no comfort 
 by his visit. Dr. Davies more than confirmed 
 his worst fears, he did not think George 
 Chichester could last many days ; he was then 
 going to see him, and promised to call on 
 Mr. Western on his way back. When he 
 came, it was only to say he feared the days 
 might prove but hours, for he was sinking 
 rapidly, that the excitement he had gone 
 through in the morning had exhausted him 
 dreadfully. 
 
 The next day, however, he seemed better, 
 he had slept calmly all night, and those who 
 had never left him a moment, now went and 
 laid down on a sofa ; the children were in the 
 next room, very quiet and very sad, their
 
 74 THE world's furniture. 
 
 sorrow threw a temporary gloom over them, 
 the boys were old enough to understand what 
 their loss would be, but Hilda was more 
 cross than unhappy, because they would not 
 let her go and stay with her father. 
 
 It was nearly twelve o'clock, and a slight 
 movement roused Rose instantly ; she looked 
 up, but saw George quite quiet, she thought 
 perhaps he had turned, he looked asleep, she 
 was at the further end of the room, and the 
 blind w^as down. She continued to lay there 
 about half an hour longer, but it was no rest 
 to her, for she felt uneasy, so she got up 
 and took her seat again by the side of the 
 bed. George had never moved, she leant 
 over him to kiss his forehead very gently for 
 fear of disturbing him, her lips had scarcely 
 touched him when she felt a shiver pass 
 through her whole body, the knowledge that 
 he was gone, came like an electric shock, 
 when she was mercifully rendered unconscious 
 and fell senseless over her husband's corpse.
 
 THE world's furniture. 75 
 
 We will not attempt to depict the widow's 
 grief. The death of a friend causes a pang, 
 how bitter then must be the sorrow of those 
 who lose that which is dearest to them on earth ! 
 To feel you are parted for ever, that one you 
 are daily accustomed to see, to consult in all 
 difficulties, to fly to for comfort in all 
 troubles, is taken from you, that you are no 
 longer the first object of any one living, is a 
 dreary, desolate feeling. There are some 
 who have always felt that, but then they 
 have never known what it is to be the first 
 care and thought of another, and so the dis- 
 tress cannot be so great. It is more envy 
 they suffer from, they envy the love and 
 devotion payed to others, which they have 
 never experienced. 
 
 Poor Rose ! the blow fell with all its 
 weight on her. She, for days, did not think of 
 her position, she only thought of her loss ! 
 George was buried at the little churchyard in 
 the Basse ville, just between Calais and the 
 village of St. Pierre.
 
 THE world's furniture. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 During the years that Rose and George 
 had passed since their marriage, William 
 Fordyce had heard of them seldom. He had 
 written to George's friend, Frank Bingham, 
 to tell them of his father's death, and had 
 written to him again ahout three years after- 
 wards to let them know, through him, of his 
 own marriage. Shortly aftewards, he had 
 made an attempt to see his sister, and had 
 gone down into Essex where George had 
 held his curacy, and the only information he 
 could glean, w^as that on the death of the 
 late rector, Mr. Chichester had left, and they
 
 THE world's furniture. 77 
 
 thought he had gone abroad. William then 
 went to Frank Bingham, but he had also 
 disappeared, and at his club it was believed 
 he was in America. 
 
 Years had much diminished William's 
 affection for Rose, and so having done all he 
 imagined necessary, he quietly let the matter 
 rest. Since his own marriage, Burwood had 
 not been so completely his home. He had 
 married the widow of a wealthy Scotch mer- 
 chant, by whom she had one daughter about 
 twenty, and on her becoming Lady Fordyce, 
 she was anxious to get her daughter as well 
 married as herself; and, therefore, William 
 found he must give up his own pursuits till 
 that was accomplished, and the season in 
 London with a tour on the continent was the 
 thing that must be gone through. 
 
 Three years saw Lady Fordyce's wishes 
 gratified, and her daughter married, though 
 not precisely as she wished. She met Cap- 
 tain Phillips at a ball given in the Kursaal at
 
 78 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Baden Baden, was engaged to him within a 
 week, and they rushed off to London to get 
 everything prepared for the marriage to take 
 place immediately. 
 
 Captain Phillips was the youngest son of a 
 Yorkshire squire, and, therefore, being 
 under ban, he was on the look out for money ; 
 he succeeded in getting it, and with it — but 
 we must npt anticipate, for our story will 
 necessarily throw us very much in the way of 
 Mrs. Phillips, and therefore we will leave 
 facts to speak for themselves. 
 
 Her daughter once out of her way, Lady 
 Fordyce appeared less anxious about the 
 London season, and willingly gave that up ; 
 but not so her continental tours — she was 
 fond of new things and new places, and her 
 husband was only too glad to gratify her in 
 this as she was indifferent whether she tra- 
 velled in the spring or autumn. They, there- 
 fore, went during the spring months abroad, 
 and came back in time for Sir William to be
 
 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 79 
 
 ready on the 12th August at his little moor 
 in Scotland, hoping he might be the first 
 man to bring down the first grouse. 
 
 The winter George died, the Fordyces 
 had determined to spend in the South ; during 
 their last autumn in Scotland, Lac^y Fordyce 
 had caught a severe cold, and the medical 
 men told her it was bronchitis she was suf- 
 fering from, and that it would be advisable if 
 she could winter at Nice, or any southern 
 spot where she could be sheltered from east- 
 erly winds. 
 
 Doctors always recommend what their 
 patients most like. They knew Lady For- 
 dyce's travelling propensities, and they knew 
 she would be so enchanted with the prospect, 
 that their names would stand in her good 
 books, and that they would be recommended 
 to all her acquaintances. They took their 
 fees, and she took their advice, and the be- 
 ginning of November saw them as rapidly 
 going southward, in their own comfortable
 
 80 THE world's furniture. 
 
 chariot, as it was possible for good horses to 
 carry them. 
 
 And so it happened that when Rose's 
 letter reached Burwood, they were not there 
 to receive it. No letters of any consequence 
 being expected to be sent to them there 
 during their absence, directions had been 
 given that they were all to remain till, on the 
 first of every month, Sir William's agent 
 went down to see that all was going on pro- 
 perly, and for him to send such letters as he 
 judged necessary to forward. 
 
 Rose's letter remained therefore for two or 
 three weeks before being sent after her bro- 
 ther ; and, in those days, posts did not go at 
 the rate they do now, therefore another week 
 elapsed before the letter actually came into 
 Sir William's hands. ' 
 
 He had grown more like his father latterly, 
 colder and more selfish. After reading the 
 letter he turned to his wife, and said, 
 
 " 1 have received a letter from my sister.
 
 THE world's furniture. 81 
 
 What an unfortunate woman she seems ! 
 Her husband is dying at Calais, where he 
 has been officiating for some years, and she 
 has the prospect of being left with three 
 children, and one hundred a-year. She will 
 find it difficult to live on that." 
 
 This was all he said, as if he had been 
 talking of his cook or housemaid, not of his 
 own and only sister. 
 
 But Lady Fordyce, whose acquaintance we 
 have but slightly made, was a warm-hearted 
 person, on impulse. She did not do a good 
 deed because it was right to do so, but only 
 because she felt sorry at the moment for the 
 person she meant to befriend ; and, therefore, 
 she had not thought a second before she 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Why, Sir William," she always called 
 him Sir William, she thought it more im- 
 posing, and was proud of his being a baronet, 
 ** why, Sir William, we must go to her, poor 
 thing, and see what can be done. We must 
 
 VOL. L G
 
 82 THE world's furniture. 
 
 go directly ;" and she got up, as if she was 
 going to start then and there. 
 
 " Wait a minute, my dear, let me see ; 
 why, the letter is dated more than a month 
 since ; perhaps Chichester is dead by this. 
 There is no use in going. Besides, you 
 could not go now, you would just arrive in 
 tirhe to have the March winds cutting you to 
 pieces." 
 
 Lady Fordyce was considerably older than 
 her husband, and she occasionally showed 
 that she thought herself wise in proportion. 
 She was a tall, stately-looking person, and as 
 she was standing up, waiting for Sir William 
 to finish, he felt quite certain it would be 
 useless to argue, and that if she meant to go, 
 go she would. But he felt rather less cheer- 
 ful after her saying, as she was leaving the 
 room, 
 
 ** I should have thought you had neglected 
 your sister long enough when she had a hus- 
 band, not to wish to continue doing so, when
 
 THE world's furniture. 83 
 
 she doubly stands in need of comfort and 
 support. I shall leave this evening; if you 
 think it unnecessary, I can go without you." 
 
 They both started that night on their way 
 to Calais, but, as to be of use, they had to go 
 quicker than was quite consistent with ease. 
 Lady Fordyce's warm sympathy w^as gra- 
 dually cooling down, and it was Sir William's 
 turn then to urge her on. It was, however, 
 in not an over-charitable mood that saw her 
 get out of their carriage at Dessin's Hotel, 
 where they put up. 
 
 As soon as they were in their rooms, a 
 porter was sent to the Consul, to enquire if 
 he was at home, and if so, if he would take 
 the trouble to call on Sir William Fordyce, 
 or, if more convenient, if he should go to 
 him. 
 
 The answer came in Mr. Western himself. 
 He knew immediately who had sent for him, 
 and guessed their motive. He rather dreaded 
 the interview, for he knew he would have to 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE world's furniture. 
 
 detail much that was sad and painful for him 
 to discuss ; but he was determined to lose no 
 opportunity of furthering Rose's interests. 
 
 On his being announced, Sir William, who 
 was alone, got up and said, " I must intro- 
 duce myself to you, Mr. Western, as the 
 brother of Mrs. Chichester, which, I hope, 
 will prove sufficient apology for my troubling 
 you to call ; but Lady Fordyce and myself 
 have but within this hour arrived, as a letter 
 from my sister, telling me of her anxiety 
 about her husband, and requesting me to . 
 come to her, only reached me last week in 
 Italy, where we were passing the winter. 
 Owing to the delay, I feared to send to the 
 address she gave me, till I ascertained how 
 matters stood with her — whether poor Chi- 
 chester was still living or not, and how she 
 herself was ; and it is to ask you to give me 
 all the information you can, that T took the 
 liberty of sending for you." 
 
 " I am sorry, Sir William, to be the me-
 
 THE world's furniture. 85 
 
 dium through which you become acquainted 
 with the heavy blow your sister has sustained. 
 Poor George Chichester has been dead a 
 month ; he died within two days of the letter 
 you so recently received being written. She 
 is still here, and is, indeed, in much want of 
 your aid and protection. Not knowing where 
 you were, I wrote also to Burwood, telling you 
 of his death, and his earnest wish that you 
 would forget the past, and only think of her 
 as your sister, and not his wife. But I sup- 
 pose that letter has never reached you. I 
 promised to do what I would have done had 
 she been my own daughter, till I was able to 
 place her under your care ; and it is a great 
 responsibility removed from me now ; and 1 
 am sure, knowing you are here on her ac- 
 count, will greatly tend to alleviate her sor- 
 row. Will you like me to go and prepare 
 her for seeing you ?" 
 
 " Thank you ; I really should be extremely 
 obliged. And, perhaps, you would come back
 
 86 THE world's furniture. 
 
 and tell me whether she would like to see me 
 at once, or wait till to-morrow, as it is some 
 years since we have met, and she may feel a 
 little agitated." 
 
 This was all said in a formal, pompous, 
 matter-of-fact way, that by no means won 
 Mr. Western's good opinion ; but there was 
 no use in his trying to battle against a man's 
 own nature, and he felt certain William For- 
 dyce had no heart, so there was not the 
 slightest object in his staying there to try 
 and touch what did not really exist. 
 
 As soon as a few more unmeaning remarks 
 had been passed, Mr. Western got up to 
 leave. Just as he was going out of the 
 room. Lady Fordyce opened the door and 
 came in. Sir William introduced him, but 
 he hurried out, for the lady's face was not 
 prepossessing, and he dreaded hearing some- 
 thing that might tend to lessen poor Rose's 
 chance of future peace. So before she could 
 say a word to stop him, he was gone. Gone,
 
 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 87 
 
 to try and prepare the poor, forlorn widow to 
 receive a cold, pompous brother, and an un- 
 pleasant-looking sister-in-law. 
 
 " I wish, Sir William, you had sent to tell 
 me Mr. Western was here, I should very 
 much have liked to have seen him, and heard 
 all he said. The maid who came into my 
 room just now, told me the English clergy- 
 man had died about a month ago, so I fear 
 your poor sister must be in a very desolate 
 state. She told me all the English here were 
 very grieved, and that they could not do 
 enough to show his widow their respect for 
 her husband. What have you settled with 
 him? — when shall you go to see her? I 
 think, perhaps, you had better go without 
 me, as a perfect stranger is never very wel- 
 come in sorrow," a touch of her good feeling 
 was coming back. 
 
 Sir William told her that was all arranged, 
 and there was nothing to do but wait pa- 
 tiently till they again saw Mr. Western.
 
 88 THE world's furniture. 
 
 We will follow him in his visit to Mrs. 
 Chichester. It was not far from the Hotel 
 where the Fordyces were, to her lodgings, so 
 he had not time to arrange his thoughts, and 
 what he should say ; and it was just as well, 
 for it would have cost him some trouble to 
 decide, and then there would have been no 
 probability of his putting his words in the 
 form he intended. 
 
 How often people write out what they have 
 to say, learn it by heart, and when the mo- 
 ment comes, the memory has not retained 
 a syllable, and there they are, groping about 
 in the dark as it were, till chance puts an 
 idea in their way, they grapple hold of it, 
 and make a speech worth a dozen of the set 
 formal one. 
 
 So he walked in, and found the mother 
 and children altogether. 
 
 A widow's dress generally calls forth some 
 pity for the wearer, whatever she may be, 
 for it is a melancholy-looking garb, though
 
 THE world's furniture. 89 
 
 very often the sympathy may be thrown 
 away. But Rose looked particularly interest- 
 ing in hers. The widow's cap, on her, did 
 not look like an advertisement of her being 
 free to accept an eligible offer, as it does, and 
 is, with many. She might have sat for a 
 picture of grief ; her youth was all gone, 
 and there were lines under the eyes that 
 told of the mental agony she had gone 
 through. 
 
 She was sitting near the fire, leaning her 
 face against her hand ; the other hand was 
 resting on Hilda's neck, who was sitting on a 
 stool by her, playing with a new toy Dr. 
 Davies had sent her; a little mouse, that, 
 when wound up, would run about by itself; 
 and her amusement was making Don try and 
 believe it was real, and that he must catch 
 it. Don was sitting watching her, and look- 
 ing as if he could not believe it, even to 
 please her. Arthur was sitting at the table 
 reading, and Frank was by the window
 
 90 THE world's furniture. 
 
 watching and listening to a discussion that 
 was taking place between an old woman and 
 a soldier ; from the occasional laugh it was 
 evident they were not quarrelling, but to judge 
 from their gesticulations, you would have 
 thought they must be in an intense rage, 
 that every word was instead of a blow. 
 
 As Mr. Western looked at the little group, 
 his heart sank within him. What a brother 
 it was she had to depend on, and that he had 
 now to tell her had arrived, and hoped she 
 was quite well ! However, it might turn out 
 better, he would not give up all hope till he 
 saw what Sir William meant to do for her. 
 He did not think there was any occasion to 
 delay telling her immediately of his arrival ; 
 just at present, nothing would excite her for 
 joy or sorrow, and so he said, almost imme- 
 diately after going in, 
 
 " I have had news of your brother, 
 Mrs. Chichester; in short, he is in Calais, 
 and sent for me as soon as he arrived.
 
 THE world's furniture. 91 
 
 He is at Dessin's, where I have just left 
 him." 
 
 "Is he coming here, then ?" said Rose. 
 " I suppose I ought to feel very glad he has 
 come, but I don't. It seems like the first 
 step to my leaving Calais, and that thought 
 makes me very miserable." 
 
 " He won't come here till I go back and 
 tell him when you would wish to see him. 
 His wife is with him." 
 
 " His wife !" exclaimed Rose. " Is he 
 married then ? Oh, if he is married, I can- 
 not expect him to think of me. When was 
 he married ?" 
 
 " I don't know anything about that," said 
 Mr. Western, smiling at the notion of Wil- 
 liam having told him about his marriage, 
 " but she is, I should say, some years older 
 than him ; she looks about fifty, whereas, I 
 suppose, he is not more than two or three- 
 and-forty." 
 
 " No ; I suppose that is his age. Does he
 
 92 THE world's furniture. 
 
 seem happy? But I must not keep you 
 here, asking questions, if he is waiting for 
 you. But tell me, Mr. Western, is his wife 
 coming with him ?" 
 
 " I don't know ; would you rather she did 
 not ? Because, perhaps, I might manage it." 
 
 " I think I should prefer his coming alone. 
 Did you see her? what sort of person is 
 
 she r 
 
 Mr. Western, not caring to give his hastily 
 formed opinion of her, said he had but seen 
 her for an instant as he was going out of the 
 room, and should not know her again were 
 he to meet her. 
 
 " Who are you going to bring to see 
 mamma ?" said Hilda. 
 
 " A new uncle for little Hilda," answered 
 Mr. Western. 
 
 " Well, then, I don't want a new uncle, or 
 a new anything, I like old things best ; and 
 I like you better than a new uncle. So tell 
 him to go, and not come to see mamma."
 
 THE world's furniture. 93 
 
 This speech did not sound very promising 
 for the reception William was to get from his 
 little niece ; but he merely patted her head, 
 and told her she must be kind to her uncle, 
 because her mamma loved him. 
 
 This seemed some sort of excuse for an 
 intruder, so Hilda turned her attention back 
 to Don and the mouse, doubly intent on 
 making a fool of the dog. 
 
 When he had gone, Mrs. Chichester 
 turned to Arthur, and said, '^ You have 
 heard so little of any of your relations, my 
 dear boy, that, perhaps, you, till lately, hardly 
 knew I had a brother. I ought, perhaps, to 
 have told you more about him, but circum- 
 stances so completely separated us, that we 
 have been like strangers for years. Your 
 father's last wish was, that I should place 
 myself and you three children under his care, 
 and as he wished it, it was sufficient for me. 
 I wrote some time since, and he now only 
 has come to us.
 
 94 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " You are old enough, Arthur, to under- 
 stand that much of your future will depend 
 on him ; and you will try therefore, I am sure, 
 for my sake, to make your uncle form a fa- 
 vorable opinion of you. You are a little 
 haughty in your manner, dear child, espe- 
 cially with strangers ; but I am sure you will 
 not give way to any feeling of pride in the 
 present case. What I am saying, Frank, I 
 must repeat almost to you, excepting the last 
 few words ; but you are younger, and, I 
 know, much given to imitate your brother. 
 I want you now, however, to be yourself, and 
 act towards your uncle as your own feelings 
 dictate." 
 
 " Certainly, mamma," said Frank, " I will 
 try and behave properly to my uncle.*' 
 
 " Well," said Arthur, " of course I will be- 
 have properly, too; but I think he might 
 have taken the trouble to have come to you 
 a httle sooner, and I don't see that there is 
 much to thank him for yet. But don't be
 
 THE world's furniture. 95 
 
 afraid, mamma ; at all events, for your sake, 
 I won't tell him so." 
 
 Arthur certainly did not, by his reply, tend 
 to remove his mother's anxiety about the 
 way he might choose to behave. She had 
 known him, nearly two years ago, whilst pay- 
 ing a visit with Mr. Western at some English 
 family's house in Calais, because he was not 
 offered a chair, and treated like a guest, take 
 up his cap and walk out. She felt certain 
 Frank would bear and forbear, for his was 
 naturally a gentle, forgiving disposition ; but 
 she dreaded Arthur marring his own pro- 
 spects by some burst of pride, should his 
 uncle call it forth by any casual patronizing 
 speech. 
 
 How little pleasure we feel at the prospect 
 of meeting those, no matter how dear they 
 may be, or have been, to us, if we are about 
 to solicit a favour ; or, without having to do 
 that, feel we shall be dependant on them.
 
 96 THE world's furniture. 
 
 for whatever generosity they may be disposed 
 to show. 
 
 Nothing is so galling, nothing so hard to 
 bear as dependance, and how rarely one is so, 
 without being momentarily reminded of it. It 
 m,ay be one is more tenacious, and every light 
 word spoken without intending to hurt, or 
 perhaps even spoken without any thought, if 
 it should touch on the one point, how deeply 
 it will cut. Why is it in our own country 
 poverty is looked on as a disgrace ? People 
 are ashamed to be poor, they will do any 
 thing, sacrifice any comfort, pinch themselves 
 in actual necessaries, rather than the world 
 should not believe them much richer than 
 they are ; but it does not even apply to those 
 of small means, but the very richest, if they 
 have twenty thousand a year they wish it to 
 be thought that they have thirty ; they are 
 but too frequently gratified, for people love so 
 to exaggerate, and it is pleasant to be thought 
 on intimate terms with very wealthy people,
 
 THE world's furniture. 97 
 
 so that their friends are ever read}^ to gratify 
 them, and yet themselves always exclaiming 
 that they cannot afford this or that. You 
 may be an honest, upright, truthful man, 
 but what good can that do you ? if you are 
 poor you cannot entertain your friends, you 
 cannot make any great display in your estab- 
 lishment, and so you are not worth knowing. 
 But suddenly, have some kind-hearted god- 
 father die and leave you great wealth, you 
 will then find you may be all that is despic- 
 able and vicious, but you will have the world 
 to support you, and proud, too, of your ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 Rose had been trying to school herself to 
 the meeting with her brother as she had en- 
 deavoured to school her children, but she 
 could as yet not bring herself to any quiet 
 thoughts. At one moment, she was thinking 
 what she should say to him, and then as she 
 pictured him before her she could only see 
 him as a young man coming home from 
 
 VOL. I, H
 
 98 THE world's FURxNITURE. 
 
 college and herself a child. The next moment 
 she was walking with her husband, walking 
 in the garden belonging to the little vicarage 
 they went to after their marriage, there was 
 no use in trying to think of the present^ — she 
 could not, her brother had so completely 
 belonged to the past, that she could not 
 identify him with the present. 
 
 An hour must have elapsed since Mr. 
 Western left — an hour is not long if passed 
 pleasantly ; but when we are watching for any 
 one, or anxious about any thing, how slowly 
 the minutes pass, each one seems ten ; if 
 you look at the clock it always seems where 
 it was the last time you looked, which ap- 
 peared to you at least a quarter of an hour 
 ago. 
 
 Rose thought it was so late now they 
 would not come that night. She sent Hilda 
 to bed, not quite sorry to have her safely out 
 of the way in case they should come. She 
 had but just returned into the sitting-room
 
 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 99 
 
 when she heard footsteps on the stairs ; there 
 was no street door with a knocker to give the 
 inmates notice of the approach of visitors ; they 
 walked in at a large gate, turning then into 
 the house on the left, came straight up the 
 stairs ; and, therefore, a moment more and 
 her brother and Mr. Western entered. He 
 thought it would be rather a comfort to Rose 
 that he should go in with him ; he was 
 always thoughtful and kind to others, so he 
 merely said, " Mrs. Chichester, I came up 
 just to show Sir William Fordyce the way, 
 and to run off again, for I have much busi- 
 ness to get through to-night,'* and he was 
 gone. But it answered his purpose and 
 formed a sort of break to the meeting. 
 
 William went up to his sister and said, 
 " It is so long. Rose, since we met, I suppose 
 you would scarcely know me ; you, too, are 
 changed. Dear me ! how very much altered 
 you are ; and are these your boys ? Come and 
 say how d'ye do to me," this was addressed to 
 
 H 2
 
 100 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Arthur and Frank, who went up and shook 
 hands with him. 
 
 Rose felt less agitated now her brother was 
 there than she had been whilst expecting 
 him, she begged him to sit down by her, and 
 before talking of herself to tell her a little 
 of his own affairs, of his marriage, and who 
 his wife was. William, in his cold way, told 
 her what we already know, he did not at 
 all seem to understand why she could pos- 
 sibly be interested in any thing relating to 
 him. 
 
 After his having been talking of things 
 that had no reference to Rose, or the cause 
 of his visit, he said, " Now I think we had 
 better discuss the future a little. I wish to 
 know what your plans are, and in what way 
 I may be able to help you to carry them out. 
 Supposing you send the children to bed, we 
 shall be able to speak more freely." 
 
 Arthur jumped up and banged out of the 
 room at the disrespect he imagined shown
 
 THE world's furniture. 101 
 
 him, Frank went up and wished his mother 
 and uncle good night and left them. 
 
 " That eldest boy does not seem to have 
 the mildest of tempers, I am afraid you have 
 spoilt him,'* her brother remarked rather 
 drily. 
 
 Rose was vexed beyond measure, she had 
 so dreaded something of the sort, and she 
 scarcely knew what excuse she could make 
 for him. " Arthur has been so accustomed to 
 be treated as much older than he really is, 
 that 1 fancy he felt hurt at being considered 
 too much of a child to remain, but I am very 
 sorry he should have given way so to his 
 temper," she said. 
 
 "Well, never mind him now; tell me 
 what you thought of doing. I am really very 
 sorry for the loss you have had, but you 
 know poor Chichester was never very strong. 
 Had he been ill long when you wrote." 
 
 " I only knew of his danger a day or two 
 before," replied Rose, trying to stifle her
 
 102 THE world's furniture. 
 
 sobs, for the mere mention of her husband 
 had quite upset her. 
 
 " Your letter never reached me till last 
 week or I should have been here sooner. 
 Lady Fordyce had been ordered to winter 
 abroad, and owing to your letter not being 
 forwarded immediately, I did not receive it 
 till it was a month old." He paused for a 
 minute or two, and then made a third at- 
 tempt about the future. "Do you wish to 
 remain here, or go to England ; or are you in 
 communication with any of your husband's 
 family, whose advice you might wish to 
 follow ?" 
 
 He spoke in such a calm, unconcerned 
 sort of manner that it threw a great damp 
 over Rose, she felt she could not look on 
 him as one that would be interested in her 
 and hers, that he merely was acting as he 
 thought it his duty to do by so near a 
 relative, but that his heart had nothing to do 
 with the matter. She told him she thought
 
 THE world's furniture. 103 
 
 for her boys' sake it would be better for her 
 to go to England, and that she knew and 
 had heard nothing of or from George's rela- 
 tions, otherwise she would have preferred 
 remaining in Calais where she had been so 
 happy. 
 
 " Of course," said Sir William, " I shall be 
 happy to help you to the best of my means, 
 and I think, too, it will be wiser for you to 
 return to your country and place the boys at 
 school. I am not sure when Lady Fordyce 
 will be ready to leave, but I dare say you can 
 arrange to go over with us. I will go back 
 to the hotel and hear all she says. She 
 begged me to give her regards to you, 
 and say she should have come with me, 
 but she thought you would prefer seeing me 
 alone, but she will call at any time you feel 
 disposed to receive her." 
 
 *' Oh tell her," said Rose, to whom this 
 message appeared doubly kind from the com- 
 parison with her brother's manner, " that I
 
 104 THE world's furniture. 
 
 shall be so glad to know her, and that as it 
 is too late for her to come out to-night, and 
 that I daresay she is very tired, I hope she 
 will come in the morning." 
 
 Rose felt relieved when her brother was gone, 
 glad the meeting was over, and glad that the 
 restraint his manner to her, caused her to 
 feel, whilst he was present, was removed. 
 How different he was to the good-hearted, 
 joyous being she remembered him. But of 
 course years do make a great difference in us 
 all, more almost in feeling than appearance, 
 for generally you can trace the features, and 
 often the same expression in a face we knew 
 young, and now see old, but rarely we re- 
 cognize the same disposition or taste. What 
 we liked in our childhood, we contemn in 
 our youth, what we loved in our youth, we 
 grow dissatisfied with in our old age. 
 
 But it is well it is so, for we should but be 
 more exposed to sorrow, and it has pleased 
 Providence to give each human being as
 
 THE world's furniture. 105 
 
 heavy a load as any desire to bear ; for the 
 trials of others, that appear but trifles to us 
 in comparison with our own, are in truth as 
 severe to them as our's are to us, we simply 
 don't think so, because we never take into 
 consideration all the adjuncts of another's 
 troubles. 
 
 There may be two persons, equally 
 condemned to some dreadful illness, the 
 one shall be very rich, the other very 
 poor ; you will say how can that be called an 
 equal trial to each — why the rich one can 
 have all the comforts that wealth can give, 
 the poor one must suffer and want as well 
 perhaps for actual necessaries. Very true, 
 but the rich one will repine that all their 
 wealth is useless, the only thing they want is 
 health, and their money may actually become 
 an extra source of vexation to them ; the poor 
 one will feel more resigned, from having 
 none of the tamperings that wealth gives, 
 and feel also that had they all the wealth of
 
 106 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Croesus, it could not benefit them. I do 
 most firmly believe, that there is a just dis- 
 tribution of happiness and sorrow to all man- 
 kind.
 
 THE world's furniture. 107 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ** Did you ever know any one contented, 
 my dear, for I never did, enough is always a 
 little more than what they have, besides 
 people, I tell you, never are contented." 
 This was addressed by Sir William Fordyce 
 to his wife, at breakfast, the morning after 
 his visit to his sister. 
 
 They had been discussing her affairs, and 
 what was to be done. Sir William thought if 
 she went over to England, and took a small 
 cottage near some town, where she could put 
 the boys at school, and that if he added to 
 her income of a hundred a year, another hun-
 
 108 THE world's furniture. 
 
 dred, she might be very comfortable. It was 
 on Lady Fordyce suggesting £200 a year 
 was not enough to be contented on, that her 
 husband made the above remark. 
 
 " Perhaps you may be right with regard to 
 some people, Sir William," she replied, " and 
 as I have not yet seen your sister, 1 cannot 
 judge ; but I should have thought she would 
 do her best to be happy in whatever state of 
 life she might be placed in. Of course, I only 
 speak from what I should think of a person 
 who being brought up as she was, was never 
 heard to murmur by one belonging to her of 
 the great changes she had when she married." 
 
 " Well, for the matter of that, she had no 
 opportunity, for her letters were always burnt 
 unopened by my father, therefore we don't 
 know what she said, though I am not wish- 
 ing to make you think she was dissatisfied, 
 only we never knew whether she was, or was 
 not." 
 
 " Well, at all events I will get ready and
 
 THE world's furniture. 109 
 
 go with you at once, and then I can judge of 
 her myself," said Lady Fordyce, and she got 
 up and left the room, returning in a short 
 time ready to walk with her husband, and 
 make the acquaintance of her new sister-in- 
 law. She fortunately had one of her amiable 
 impulsive humours on her, and the distance 
 from the Hotel to the Rue Francaise, was 
 too short for it to have time to wear away, 
 added to which the tone her husband con- 
 tinued to talk of his sister in, tended rather 
 to increase her good feelings towards her 
 than otherwise. 
 
 On getting to her lodgings, having in vain 
 hunted for a bell, or a servant of some des- 
 cription to announce them, they walked up, 
 and after hearing a gentle " Come in," to 
 their knock at the door, they opened it. 
 Mrs. Chichester rose up the moment she saw 
 her brother and his wife, and went forward 
 to receive the latter with a degree of warmth 
 she could not account for, for there was
 
 110 THE world's furniture. 
 
 nothing attractive in Lady Fordyce's appear- 
 ance ; she was middle aged, rather above the 
 ordinary height, stout and heavy looking. 
 She was fair, with small eyes, a bad nose, and 
 a. very ugly mouth, her teeth rather project- 
 ing ; but she went towards Rose and put her 
 arms round her, and kissing her on the fore- 
 head, merely said " Poor thing," but those 
 two words spoke more to the heart than the 
 most elaborate speech, and Rose felt gratified 
 to her for her kind manner. Lady Fordyce's 
 eyes were full of tears, and she turned to the 
 children to pass the awkward minutes that 
 generally follow after a meeting of that 
 kind. 
 
 The little scene had not been lost on the 
 children, Arthur came forward immediately, 
 and held out his hand, and looked up in her 
 face, he was going to say something, but 
 before he could do so, she exclaimed, " What 
 a beautiful boy, what would I not give to 
 have had a child like this ?" A slight cloud
 
 THE world's furniture. 1 1 1 
 
 passed over his face, which she noticed, and 
 interpreted aright ; it soon cleared off, and 
 she said, " but beauty is little unless you are 
 good, and you look good, I am sure you are 
 a comfort to your poor mamma." 
 
 " 1 hope I shall be some day soon," 
 Arthur said. 
 
 Frank was standing by, and he took hold 
 of Lady Fordyce's hand, and said, " I mean 
 to be a comfort to my mamma, and make 
 her happy again." 
 
 She turned towards him, and putting her 
 hand on his head, said, " Indeed, my dear 
 child, you look as if you would make every 
 one happy that you were with. You may 
 well be proud of your boys/' she added, turn- 
 ing to Mrs. Chichester, who was talking to 
 her brother. 
 
 " I must introduce you to my little girl," 
 said Rose, taking Hilda by the hand, and 
 leading her up to her sister-in-law. 
 
 *' Why, I did not know you had another,
 
 112 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Sir William only mentioned your two boys to 
 me. 
 
 " Well, I did not know it myself," said 
 Sir William, *' this little lady did not appear 
 last night, and Rose never mentioned her." 
 
 Lady Fordyce sat down, and was going to 
 lift Hilda on to her lap, but she would not 
 be lifted up, and looking up in her aunt's 
 face, said, *' I don't know you yet." 
 
 "W^ell no, but perhaps you will soon 
 know me, and then you will come and sit on 
 my lap, wont you ? I won't ask you to come 
 till you wish it." 
 
 Hilda made no answer, but moved off to a 
 corner of the room where Don was lying ; she 
 sat down by the side of him, and probably 
 confided to him all her opinions of her new 
 relations. We must leave them to each other, 
 and turn our ears to the more serious con- 
 versation of their elders. 
 
 Arthur, remembering his uncle's remark 
 last night, determined not to lay himself open
 
 THE world's furniture. 113 
 
 to a repetition of it, and therefore he went up 
 to his mother, and said, " I will go round to 
 Mr. Western's, mamma, and Frank will go 
 with me, unless you have any objection ; have 
 you any message ?" 
 
 " No, Arthur, only my love to him ; take 
 care of Frank, do not be late for dinner/' 
 
 Arthur and Frank said good morning, and 
 went out. There was a pause for a few 
 minutes, at last Lady Fordyce said, " You 
 must be anxious to get your two boys at a 
 good school, are you not ? You would not like 
 them to be brought up entirely here." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Rose, " this place is well 
 enough for children, but not when they 
 begin to get to boyhood. Arthur has been 
 for eighteen months at a clergyman's near 
 London, but of course I was not able to send 
 him this quarter. It is my wish to be able 
 to live in England for their sakes ; but I fear 
 England will be far beyond my income." 
 
 " I was talking to Lady Fordyce this 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE world's furniture. 
 
 morning," said her brother, " and about what 
 we thought it would be best for you to do. 
 I will double your income, which will make 
 it two hundred a year, and I think if you 
 live carefully, you ought to make that do. I 
 should advise your taking a small house in 
 the neighbourhood of London, and then when 
 settled in it, you can decide what yoti best 
 like with regard to your boys." 
 
 " I am very much obliged, William, for 
 your generous offer ; and I will do all in my 
 power to enable me to give my boys a 
 thorough education. Arthur is very clever, 
 and I think, will, when older, be able to make 
 his own way in the world ; but Frank i^ so 
 delicate, that I dread the hardships of a 
 school for him, I have hitherto kept him at 
 home on that account." 
 
 Lady Fordyce, during the last few minutes, 
 had been intently watching Hilda, she was a 
 strange child, and had evidently taken her 
 fancy. She was apparently holding an
 
 THE world's furniture. 115 
 
 animated conversation with Don, and what 
 seemed to suit her most was, having it 
 entirely to herself — Don only vouchsafing a 
 friendly grunt every now and then, or licking 
 her face, when she put it down near enough 
 to him, without his having the trouble to lift 
 his head. Don was older than when we first 
 made his acquaintance, and therefore less 
 active, and more given to look out for 
 comfort and quiet. 
 
 Lady Fordyce had been ruminating on the 
 child's probable future ; an idea crossed her, 
 and it had no sooner done so, than the idea 
 became a wish, and from a wish to a desire ; 
 but she was interrupted in her castles in the 
 air, by her husband saying : " My dear, if my 
 sister settles to return toEngland, don't you 
 think it would be advisable she should do so 
 as soon as possible ?'* 
 
 Lady Fordyce directed her answer to Mrs. 
 Chichester, she did not quite like the dunning 
 part Sir William apparently meant her to 
 
 I 2
 
 116 THE world's furniture. 
 
 play in her own affairs, so she said, " If you 
 feel equal to the journey, I think you would 
 like having your brother to take all the 
 trouble of travelling off your hands, and of 
 course we could delay going till your pre- 
 parations were made — you have no objection, I 
 am sure, Sir William ?" 
 
 " Oh, none at all, my dear," answered Sir 
 William, anything but pleased at the prospect 
 of either the prolonged stay in Calais, or the 
 travelling with three children in his train ; 
 but he never attempted a direct contradiction 
 to his wife, when she had arranged any 
 plan, so he only ventured to add, " 1 suppose, 
 Rose, you will not require more than a couple 
 of days to prepare." 
 
 Rose, to whom the departure was altogether 
 new, seemed to hesitate ; to her, two days 
 seemed quite insufficient to get herself and 
 her children ready to leave in, especially as it 
 was a final departure ; but she thought it 
 would not do to give up the benefit of her
 
 THE world's furniture. 117 
 
 brother's protection, especially as she re- 
 membered how anxious George had been 
 about it, and she did not like to throw cold 
 water on Lady Fordyce's kind proposition ; 
 but her sister-in-law came to her aid, and 
 said, " It is quite out of the question for you 
 to be ready in two days. This is Saturday, 
 supposing we settle to leave next Thursday ; 
 do you think that will be too soon ?" 
 
 " I can be quite ready by Thursday, but it, 
 is taxing your kindness too far to wish you 
 to remain so long, however great the benefit 
 of your escort might be. I am sure we shall 
 get the journey over safely ; I have friends 
 here who would see me on board, and so you 
 must not think of remaining." 
 
 " Indeed, my dear Mrs. Chichester, I shall 
 not allow you to go alone with three young 
 children. If Sir William cannot remain, I 
 will ; and he can go over if necessary, and 
 come back for us, so say no more about it." 
 
 Sir William, who had no notion of being
 
 118 THE world's furniture. 
 
 unnecessarily sea sick, and as the weather 
 was none of the mildest, he did say no more 
 about it, but quickly made up his mind to 
 remain till Thursday ; but Rose could not 
 but express her thanks to Lady Fordyce, and 
 assure her how she should ever remember 
 all her sympathy and kindness. 
 
 They rose to go, and Hilda jumped up 
 and went to her aunt, and said, " Good-bye ; 
 next time you come, perhaps I will sit on 
 your lap." This piece of condescention on 
 her part was received as it was meant, and 
 Lady Fordyce felt very pleased, and the wish 
 that had taken hold of her, only gained 
 firmer root. 
 
 The next day, Sunday, Mr. Western came, 
 as had been his custom since poor Chiches- 
 ter's death, and fetched the widow and her 
 three children to go to church. It had been 
 a hard trial for Rose the first time she w^nt, 
 to see another standing in the place where 
 she had never seen any but her own husband ;
 
 THE world's furniture. 119 
 
 but each successive Sunday it had been less 
 difficult to bear. Time will alleviate every 
 sorrow ; it is well it does, or we should sink 
 under them. But to-day Rose felt very sad, 
 she knew it would be her last ; she would 
 perhaps never again return to Calais, where 
 she had passed so many happy years, and 
 latterly so many sorrowful months. It is 
 strange, but yet true, that sorrow will en- 
 dear a place to us almost as much as plea- 
 sure ; there is a sad clinging feeling which we 
 cannot account for, but which yet exists. 
 
 After. church was over, she went her usual 
 walk on the ramparts, and then told Mr. 
 Western of her future plans — all her brother 
 and sister-in-law had said, the latter*s kind- 
 ness in not allowing her to go back to Eng- 
 land alone, and, therefore, the reason that 
 she must leave so soon, so as not to delay 
 them longer than actually necessary — her 
 brother's ideas of what she ought to do, how 
 and where she ought to live, his increase to
 
 120 THE world's furniture. 
 
 her income, in fact all she could call to mind 
 as having passed on the previous day, she 
 related. 
 
 Mr. Western said little, but thought the 
 more; however, he determined never again 
 to judge another by their faces, for he evi- 
 dently had sadly misjudged Lady Fordyce ; 
 she appeared, from Rose's account, far more 
 feehng and thoughtful than her brother had 
 been. He thought a hundred a year a mean, 
 shabby annuity, for an only brother with up- 
 wards of eight thousand a year to an only 
 sister with nothing ; but he yet hoped from 
 Lady Fordyce's conduct that she would be- 
 friend Rose, and so not leave her upon such 
 an income. 
 
 " I don't know what I shall do when you 
 are gone," said Mr. Western, *' I shall feel 
 quite lost." 
 
 ** J hope we may soon meet again," con- 
 tinued Rose, " you will, I hope, be before long 
 obliged to go over to England, and it will be
 
 THE world's furniture. 121 
 
 one of the very few pleasures I shall look for- 
 ward to, will be meeting you again. You have 
 been such a kind friend to me, that I almost 
 feel as if m leaving you here, I was parting 
 from all that felt interested in me and 
 mine." 
 
 " You must not think that, for you will 
 find many friends in England, and plenty 
 will be ready to take interest in you. I wrote 
 some time ago to Frank Bingham but I have 
 not had any answer, I fancy he cannot have 
 returned from America ; I shall write again 
 after you have left." 
 
 They talked on for some little time longer, 
 when Mr. Western walked back with his 
 little party, and left them at their own 
 door. He felt unusually out of sorts now 
 the parting was so near, he felt how sadly he 
 should miss them when they were gone. 
 He was old, too, now, and did not care 
 about new friends, he liked the faces he was 
 accustomed to ; and as he walked back to his
 
 122 THE world's furniture. 
 
 own house the idea of his resigning occurred to 
 him. What should he do all alone, after being 
 accustomed daily to have the children with 
 him? after being accustomed to go in and 
 out of the Chichesters' house like his own. 
 No, he would resign, but he would say no- 
 thing about it till they were all safely settled 
 in England; but the determination soothed 
 him, and he soon regained his usual cheerful- 
 ness. 
 
 The few days previous to the departure 
 passed rapidly ; they were so busy making 
 purchases and packing, that night came 
 much too soon for their accommodation. 
 
 The boys were in high spirits at the pro- 
 spect of change, most people are, but to a 
 child there is a great charm in novelty. 
 
 Hilda had made friends with Lady For- 
 dyce, but not so with her uncle. She did 
 not feel by any means attracted towards 
 him, and she did not attempt to appear to 
 be so.
 
 THE world's furniture. 123 
 
 Don did not seem at all to understand 
 what was going on, he had never been wit- 
 ness to such an extensive preparation for a 
 journey ; the outside of his observations had 
 been a portmanteau and carpet-bag, he could 
 not conceive anything beyond it. 
 
 On Wednesday, the day before they were 
 to leave. Sir William and Lady Fordyce came 
 in, and Hilda was in a very animated con- 
 versation with her mother and Mr. Western. 
 Whatever the subject might have been, the 
 little girl evidently was getting quite beyond 
 the reach of persuasion. 
 
 A child always knows instinctively where 
 it can safely look for support, so the sight of 
 Lady Fordyce was like a ship to a drowning 
 man. Her eyes were looking larger than 
 ever as she made a bound towards her on 
 coming in. 
 
 " Aunt,'' she cried out, " mamma and Mr. 
 Western say I can't take Don with me. 
 Can't I, aunt ? Because, if I can't, I don't
 
 1*24 THE world's furniture. 
 
 want to go to England. I will stop with 
 Don here. Do say I may take him." 
 
 " My dear, Don is a very large dog, and I 
 think your mamma will find him very trou- 
 blesome. Don't you think, too, Don will be 
 happier himself to stay with Mr. Western ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Sir WilHam, ** the child 
 is mad to want to take that big brute with 
 her !" 
 
 " I don't care what you say," Hilda said, 
 turning to her uncle ; " he is not a big brute ; 
 are you, my darling, Don ?" and the child 
 went to the dog, and laid her head on his, 
 and broke forth in a torrent of tears. 
 
 Lady Fordyce went up to her; she felt 
 the first appeal had been made to her, that 
 the child had looked to her to get her object 
 attained, and she thought it would strengthen 
 ihe apparent liking that Hilda already felt 
 for her, if she were the means of her wish 
 being gratified ; besides, it pained her to see 
 the little thing sobbing so.
 
 THE world's furniture. 125 
 
 So she put one hand on the dog's head 
 and the other on Hilda's, and said : " Listen 
 to me, Hilda, and you, too, Don, for I must 
 speak to you both," this was enough to 
 make Hilda all attention, that Don was to be 
 considered in some way, at all events. 
 *' Would you love me very much, Hilda, if 
 I were to take Don to England, and keep 
 him for you at my house in the country, and 
 for you to come and see him whenever you 
 liked ? And would you, Don, behave very 
 properly if I took you ?" 
 
 It is better to take the inch if you cannot 
 get the ell, and so Hilda considered the offer, 
 and though only half pleased, said, 
 
 " Yes, I will love you, and you shall take 
 Don ; and I know he will be good, he is 
 always good. Mamma, aunty says I shall 
 have Don. Do you hear, Mr. Western, 1 
 may take Don, I told you I would not leave 
 him !" 
 
 Mr. Western, who had risen to go, was
 
 126 THE world's furniture. 
 
 not quite sure whether to believe it or not, 
 and so, turning to Lady Fordyce, said, " I 
 think you will repent of your offer to take 
 such a charge ; but Hilda, perhaps, may for- 
 get it by to-morrow." 
 
 Sir William was quite indifferent as to a 
 dog more or less in his kennel, and only 
 thought of the additional live stock to the 
 party the next day. 
 
 Rose had been with Hilda in the morning 
 to take leave of old Dr. Davies and his 
 daughter, and the boys had gone there now, 
 and were just coming in as their aunt and 
 uncle were going out. So, with a " Mind 
 you are ready in good time to-morrow," they 
 each went their way. 
 
 Mr. Western was to return during the af- 
 ternoon to take Rose to the cemetery; the 
 children were to go also, and so as soon as 
 they were altogether and alone, Rose went to 
 get herself and Hilda ready. She was going 
 to enjoy, for the last time, the pleasure of
 
 THE world's furniture. 127 
 
 being near all that had been so dear to her 
 on earth. 
 
 We will not follow them in their farewell 
 visit to the grave of the husband and father. 
 There are very few, if any of us, who have 
 not had some loved object snatched away 
 from us by death, and therefore we know 
 what an aching void there is in our hearts, 
 when we look on the earth, and know that 
 what we so idolized in life is now buried 
 there ; but with the pain there is a deep gra- 
 titude that we are permitted to see their last 
 resting-place, that we were permitted to tend, 
 and watch, and soothe them in their last mo- 
 ments, that their eyes closed looking at us, 
 praying God to bless us, that ours was the 
 last hand theirs held. 
 
 None can know and appreciate the real 
 blessings of attending the death-bed of a be- 
 loved friend or relative, but those who have 
 been denied it. For a paid servant to be 
 where you ought to have been, for you to be
 
 128 THE world's furniture. 
 
 ignorant of their last wishes and last words, 
 — oh, none know what that sorrow is but 
 those who have felt it ! 
 
 The last hours spent in Calais were very 
 heavy ones to all, and as the parting was to 
 be, each were anxious it should be over. 
 The morning of Thursday saw all our party 
 on board the steamer, Don and all, Mr. 
 Western was there too that he might see 
 the last of them ; the warning bell had just 
 rang, one last grasp of Rose's hand and a 
 hurried " God bless you," and he jumped on 
 shore. She and the children watched him, 
 but he did not turn round to look at them, 
 but hurried back to his little home ; they felt 
 leaving him very much, but there was a cer- 
 tain excitement in the going to their own 
 country again, that took away the sting of 
 parting. 
 
 We should never pity those who go as we 
 do those who remain, the former find it im- 
 possible to brood over their pain, new things,
 
 THE world's furniture. 129 
 
 new places, new people, all take part in their 
 thoughts ; whereas, the latter go back to the 
 same things, the same places, the same 
 people, but miss the absent one in all. 
 Everything reminds them of their absence, 
 the very streets look deserted, the desolate 
 feeling within one spreads to all and every 
 thing around. So felt Mr. Western as he 
 crossed the market place, which was begin- 
 ing to move with life; but to him it was 
 empty, he never saw the town look so dull 
 and dreary, and yet the bright morning sun 
 was shining and making the whole place look 
 more cheerful than usual. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 130 THE world's furniture. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 On their first arrival, through Lady For- 
 dyce's arrangements, all went down to Bur- 
 wood. It seemed to Rose like a dream, it 
 seemed impossible that since she was last 
 there, she had become a wife, a mother, and 
 a widow ! 
 
 The place was very much altered. Shortly 
 before Sir John Fordyce's death he had 
 enlarged and improved it considerably, and 
 alterations were still going on in the grounds. 
 The house was built of white stone, in the 
 Italian style ; in the front was a large portico 
 that a carriage drove under and you entered at
 
 THE world's furniture. 131 
 
 once into a very fine lofty hall, which, how- 
 ever, was as much spoilt as it could be, by 
 bad, glaring-looking pictures covering the 
 walls — one which looking more unpleasant 
 than any of the others, was a picture sup- 
 posed to be a portrait of Cardinal Wolsey, 
 his scarlet robe naaking one's eyes ache pain- 
 fully, but poor Sir William imagined he 
 knew a good picture, and of course thought 
 all was perfect ; his friends never liked to un- 
 deceive him. 
 
 The floor was covered with a magnificent 
 Turkey carpet, and in the centre stood a very 
 handsome billiard-table. On entering the 
 hall, the opposite side of it presented three or 
 four doors to view, as also on the left ; these 
 doors led to the different sitting-rooms, 
 which all communicated with each other. 
 
 We will enter from the first door on our 
 left hand, and that leads us at once into what 
 was called the blue drawing-room. There were 
 two drawing-rooms, one blue, the other- 
 K 2
 
 132 THE world's furniture. 
 
 yellow, so called from the coloured drapery 
 and furniture. In the first room, which is 
 the largest, there is a glass door leading into 
 a very pretty conservatory, full of bright 
 looking flowers, and a strong smell of helio- 
 trope ; the two rooms might be one, they are 
 so open into each other; there are doors 
 between, but they are glass, and they open 
 and fold back so far, that unless you looked 
 for them, you would think they belonged to 
 the wall. 
 
 All the windows were bowed, and the 
 walls and ceilings were beautifully painted a 
 mixture of arabesque and flowers ; but there 
 was nothing homely in these rooms, they 
 evidently were not for every day use ; there 
 was a stiffs, formal look about them, that you 
 felt on going into them, as if you merely 
 went to look at them, and not inhabit them ; 
 like a very handsome new dress, you were 
 uncomfortable in it, and felt it was for other 
 people's admiration, not your own.
 
 THE world's furniture. 133 
 
 There was a door in the yellow room, which 
 was the farthest off, that on opening, did not 
 much extend one's information, for you only 
 came against another door. Why double 
 doors were made, I know not, but there they 
 were ; on opening the second, you entered a 
 library, and a perfect one of its kind. I must 
 describe it fully, for with it we may have 
 more to do. It was a square room with 
 doors and windows occupying three sides of 
 it, and the fire place the fourth, but between 
 the doors were book cases filled with books, 
 of a heavy, dry, old fashioned description ; 
 there were two writing tables, one in the 
 middle of the room, the other standing on 
 one side of the fire place, both well covered 
 with necessaries. 
 
 A very large, comfortable sofa of morocco 
 leather, with a deep back and two sides, the 
 same height, and all being straight up, two 
 arm-chairs to match, with a few others more 
 or less comfortable. Where there was a
 
 134 THE world's furniture. 
 
 spare piece of paper, hung some execrable 
 picture, horrible copies of Byron, Walter 
 Scott, the Empress Catherine, and Mary, 
 Queen of Scots, sadly disfiguring the room. 
 Two windows, both down to the ground, and 
 opening into the garden, gave it a cheerful 
 look. 
 
 We now go through the door facing the 
 one we entered the room by, and come again 
 against another, which having opened, we 
 find ourselves in a large, lofty dining-room, 
 the three windows at the end of the room 
 being built in a large bow, thereby adding 
 much to the size of the room. It was fur- 
 nished with heavy, massive carved oak ; over 
 the mantle piece is a life-like portrait of Sir 
 William as he now is, the only really decent 
 picture in the house. 
 
 Leading out of the dining, is the break- 
 fast-room, a light, pretty room, with white 
 paper, and cherry coloured furniture, with a 
 few pictures, hung so that the light comes on
 
 THE world's furniture, 135 
 
 them in charity to hide them. All these 
 rooms have doors opening into the hall, and 
 the windows into the garden. A wide stair- 
 case led you out of the hall up into a long 
 gallery, along which were situated the bed- 
 rooms. 
 
 Old Sir John Fordyce had the peculiar 
 fancy of having the bed-rooms numbered in 
 the way one sees at an hotel, his own com- 
 mencing with number one ; and the numbers 
 still remained, and the rooms were often 
 designated by them. When no company was 
 staying in the house, the library was used as 
 the sitting room. It is in the former we 
 must go to see who is in it. 
 
 Rose, and her children, and Don had been 
 at Burwood about a fortnight, and though 
 she enjoyed much the quiet and freedom 
 from care that the constant thought of £ s d 
 always entails, she felt she could not remain 
 for ever ; she must not let her boys be losing 
 more time, and so she had determined this
 
 136 THE world's furniture. 
 
 morning to tell Lady Fordyce that she 
 thought it time for her to settle in her own 
 home. 
 
 Rose was standing looking out at one of 
 the library windows watching her boys ; they 
 were trying how they could walk in and about 
 the little beds of flowers, without touching 
 them. 
 
 The flower garden in front of the window 
 was one of those stiff, ugly things, called an 
 Italian garden, little turrils and twists of 
 beds all bordered with box, cut in the 
 most prim, stifle fashion, and amongst them 
 little narrow miniature w^alks covered with 
 difl'erent coloured sand. The whole having 
 a walk of about a foot in width, wide in com- 
 parison with the others, surrounding it, and 
 outside that again a white stone border 
 forming scollops round these strange 
 looking things. The whole was like a view 
 presented to you on looking through a kalei- 
 descope. Hilda was not visible, she was last
 
 THE world's furniture. 137 
 
 seen with Don, and trying to make him walk 
 on his hind legs by the side of her. 
 
 Rose was waiting for Lady Fordyce to 
 come in, as she usually did about eleven 
 o'clock, having concluded all her household 
 arrangements for the day. Rose had a great 
 dislike to talking business, so the time 
 seemed very long with the anticipation before 
 her till her sister-in-law appeared. When 
 she did come in, she began talking of different 
 matters that had no interest for Mrs. 
 Chichester, and Lady Fordyce seeing she 
 looked as if something was making her 
 thoughtful, exclaimed, *' Is any thing the 
 matter, Rose? you look like a person who 
 had just heard some disagreeable news." 
 
 *' No," said Rose, " but I have been think- 
 ing this last day or two, that I must not 
 delay making my arrangements for the 
 future, and I wished to speak to you about it ; 
 we have been here a fortnight, and really we 
 must settle at once where and how we had
 
 138 THE world's furniture. 
 
 better live ; for I feel that the boys are losin 
 their time, and I, too, cannot feel com- 
 fortable till I am fixed in my plans. Don't 
 you think I am right, the only difficulty I see 
 is how to get lodgings, for I could not 
 arrive in London with three children, and no 
 where to go to, and run the risk of not meet- 
 ing with anything to suit." 
 
 '* Well, Rose, I suppose you are right to 
 wish to have your own home as soon as pos- 
 sible, though I shall be very sorry to lose 
 you, but I don't see that there is any hurry 
 for a few days. It certainly will be better for 
 Arthur and Frank to be going on with their 
 studies, but they are now gaining health and 
 strength at all events, if nothing more. You 
 certainly must not dream of going up to 
 town on the mere chance of finding lodgings 
 in that way ; why, in the first place, you 
 would be sure to get into some place you did 
 not like, and could not remain in, and besides 
 you would be ruined in coach hire — to say
 
 THE world's furniture. 139 
 
 nothing of what people would think of Sir 
 William's sister going about, with three 
 children in her train, lodging hunting. 
 Have you quite settled to take furnished 
 lodgings ?" 
 
 " Oh I think so, for the present at all 
 events. I scarcely know how I could manage 
 a house, it is so different in England to the 
 continent, and I have had so little experience 
 in English housekeeping, and none at all in a 
 town." 
 
 " I think if I wrote to my daughter, she 
 might find something that would suit you ; 
 she has nothing to do, and I should think 
 it would amuse her." 
 
 " It would be very kind indeed if she 
 would, I think Kensington will be the best 
 neighbourhood; it is near the grammar- 
 school, which Mr. Western recommended me 
 for the boys, and it is far enough out of 
 town to have nice walks, so that Hilda would 
 not be confined to streets only ; and poor
 
 J 40 THE world's furniture. 
 
 child, I am afraid she will feel the change 
 more than her brothers, they being employed 
 all day, wont notice the difference." 
 
 "Your speaking of Hilda," said Lady 
 Fordyce, in rather an uncertain tone, " makes 
 me feel that perhaps 1 had best at once tell 
 you what has been on my mind for some 
 time, and that I trust you will see as I do, 
 and, for her sake, sacrifice your own imme- 
 diate feehngs." Lady Fordyce paused a 
 minute, to Rose it seemed ten, before she 
 came out with really what she meant. She 
 then continued — 
 
 " You know I always have liked little 
 Hilda since she refused in Calais to come on 
 my lap, because she did not know me ; my 
 liking for her has only strengthened with the 
 more I see of her sincere, natural, and 
 affectionate ways, and 1 should wish to keep 
 her, and bring her up as my own child. You 
 know I have none of my own, or rather what 
 is much the same thing, she is grown up and
 
 THE world's furniture. 141 
 
 married ; I do not see much of her, and she 
 never was, I think, fond of me in the way 
 that one thinks an only child would cling to 
 her mother, but that has nothing to do with 
 this question. Do you think yon could trust 
 your child to me ? it may seem hard to part 
 from her at first, but you must remember it 
 will be for her good, for her benefit, now and 
 in the future. You can see her when you 
 like, come and stay here with her whenever 
 you like, and she will herself, 1 am sure be 
 happy. I think she is fond of me ; you know 
 I am fond of her, or I should not wish you 
 to part with her to me ; and you know I will 
 act by her and for her, as if she were my 
 own arid your brother's child." 
 
 Rose was for the moment unable to answer, 
 thoughts one after another rushed through 
 her mind like lightning, the fors and againsts ; 
 however, she felt the fors were all for Hilda, 
 the againsts all for herself. What was she to 
 say ? what could she do ? The thought of part-
 
 142 THE world's furniture. 
 
 ing with her darling child seemed so dread- 
 ful, but yet if she refused, might not Hilda 
 live to reproach her for having so marred 
 her future; for having through her own 
 selfishness condemned her to poverty, when 
 she had had the offer of a wealthy and luxuri- 
 ous home for her. 
 
 Rose's voice trembled as she answered, 
 " Your proposition is so unexpected, that I 
 scarcely know what to say ; are you sure my 
 brother would like it ?" She grasped hold of 
 that idea which had suddenly struck her, as 
 perhaps the saving of her child to herself, 
 without doing so though for her own 
 happiness. She did not think he was par- 
 ticularly fond of Hilda, and perhaps Lady 
 Fordyce had never mentioned the matter to 
 him at all ; but that hope was soon dispelled 
 by Lady Fordyce answering, " I thought it 
 but due to Sir William to speak to him 
 before making the proposal to you, so he is
 
 THE world's furniture. 143 
 
 quite aware of my wishes, and has in no way 
 objected to them." 
 
 " 1 am afraid," said Rose, " Hilda will fret 
 very much at the idea of parting from me 
 and her brothers, and it will be a dreadful 
 loss to me. 1 have always looked forward 
 with such pleasure at the idea of knowing I 
 should never need to send her away from me, 
 that I covld educate her at home ; and then 
 again, I should fear her living with you, in 
 the style you do, it will give her ideas and 
 notions that will be hard to wean her from 
 when older." 
 
 "But why should she be weaned from 
 them ?" interposed Lady Fordyce, " you do 
 not think if I undertake the charge of her 
 now, I should only be too glad to have her 
 with me, when she is of an age to be com- 
 panionable ; and she will have every prospect 
 of marrying well. As to her fretting about 
 you ; it will not do, if you consent to leave 
 her with me, to let her know it is for a con-
 
 144 THE world's furniture. 
 
 tinuance. It will be much better to let her 
 think she is merely here for a few days, 
 whilst you are getting settled, and she will 
 soon be reconciled." 
 
 Rose felt there really was nothing to urge 
 against it, so she said nothing, she could not 
 trust herself to say more than, " 1 must think 
 a little, Mary, my thoughts seem all en- 
 tangled," and she got up from the sofa where 
 she was sitting, and as she passed by Lady 
 Fordyce, she took her hand, and said, 
 " Thank you, Mary, for all your goodness," 
 and quickly left the room. 
 
 As she was crossing the hall, she heard 
 Hilda's voice, she called her to come to her ; 
 and she stood still till the child joined her, 
 and taking her hand, she hurried up to her 
 own room with her, and hastily shutting the 
 door, she threw herself into a chair, took the 
 child up in her arms, and kissing her, buried 
 her face in her httle neck, and sobbed 
 violently.
 
 THE world's furniture. 145 
 
 " Mamma, dear, what are you so un- 
 happy about, I shall cry too if you do," and 
 she put her arms round her mother, trying 
 with her childish endearments to soothe 
 her. 
 
 " My darling, I will try not to be unhappy. 
 I only want you to love me, and be good, 
 and I wont then cry." 
 
 Hilda began to think she must have been 
 guilty of some great misdemeanour, or her 
 mamma would never tell her if she were 
 good she would not cry. However, the tears 
 had relieved Rose, she felt as if after all it 
 was not such a dreadful thing — her child 
 would be so cared for, so watched, and she 
 could see her whenever she wished, she was 
 determined she would not give way again in 
 such a manner, besides it was due to Lady 
 Fordyce that she should not appear as if she 
 was being ill used in the matter. It seemed 
 hard at first, but when after sending Hilda 
 out of the room again to go to play, she 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 
 
 thought the whole thing over coolly and 
 calmly ; she knew she had cause for deep 
 gratitude ; supposing she were to die, what 
 would become of Hilda, the boys could work 
 their own way, but a girl, what can she do ? 
 Be a governess, she would sooner Hilda died 
 than that ; a governess' life is so dreadful, 
 such toil and misery, and subject to insults 
 from the mistress to servant. No, she was 
 thankful Hilda's future was secure. So she 
 went down again into the library, where Lady 
 Fordyce was still sitting, and told her she 
 was grateful for her offer, and that Hilda 
 should remain. 
 
 " I trust you will never repent your 
 decision, Rose, it shall not be my fault if you 
 do. But whilst you have been out of the 
 room, I have been writing to Matilda, to ask 
 her to look about for some nice lodffino-s for 
 you, so I hope in a day or two we shall hear 
 of something, for she has nothing to do, and 
 plenty of time for it."
 
 THE world's furniture. 14? 
 
 • There was a pause of some minutes; Lady 
 Fordyce took up some netting that lay on the 
 writing table at the side of the room, and 
 Rose sat with her eyes fixed on the ground. 
 Presently, the door leading from the dining- 
 room opened, and Sir William came in, he 
 looked out of temper, and said in a harsh 
 tone, " Those boys have been treading down 
 the box round the flower beds, it really is 
 very provoking, I think you might look after 
 them a little, and not let them be so mis- 
 chievous." He looked at no one whilst he 
 spoke, but Rose of course knew it was meant 
 for her. None of us can bear other people 
 to find fault with either our dogs or our 
 children, and Rose felt very angry, though 
 she knew her brother had cause to complain 
 if they had done so ; so she answered on the 
 heat of the moment, " I am very sorry my 
 children should have done any harm to your 
 garden, but I will take care it shall not 
 happen again, and I will relieve you of them 
 
 L 2
 
 148 THE world's furniture. 
 
 as soon as I possibly can arrange to do so." She 
 rose and left the room before another word 
 could be said. 
 
 Lady Fordyce was sorry this should have 
 occurred, for she knew, by experience, angry 
 words are soon spoken, but they are rarely 
 forgotten; besides Rose was wrong, if the 
 boys had injured the box, which was more 
 than likely, it was annoying, for it took a long 
 time to get it grown in that manner, and Sir 
 William was as proud of it as of his pictures, 
 perhaps because both were equally execrable. 
 Yet Lady Fordyce ventured to remark that 
 Sir WiUiam was a Uttle sharp with his sister, 
 that he ought to remember she had gone 
 through so much sorrow, she was more open 
 to take offence at what was said ; but it was 
 useless, Sir WiUiam was angry, and would 
 not be taught what he ought to say, and 
 what he ought not, but there was something 
 more beyond the mere destruction done to 
 the garden, which turned out a trifle after
 
 THE world's furniture. 149 
 
 all, that had irritated Sir William ; he had 
 found on going, as was his custom, to pay 
 his morning visit to the stable, his favourite 
 mare with one of her knees broken. The 
 groom had been sent early in the morning, 
 into the town of Ghadwick, which was the 
 nearest to Burwood, being about two miles 
 off. Instead of walking, he took the mare, 
 whose foot slipped on a round stone, and she 
 came down on both her knees ; it was but a 
 moment, for she was up in a second, and the 
 groom walked her gently home ; when he 
 dismounted and looked at her, he saw at 
 once the injury done, and he trembled from 
 head to foot at the thought of his master's 
 wrath. 
 
 When Sir William saw it, he discharged 
 the man on the spot, but did not utter a 
 word. Bottled rage is always the worst, it 
 expends itself by degrees, and all who happen 
 to come within reach, till it has worked off, 
 suffer as if they were the culprits ; and so it
 
 150 THE world's furniture. 
 
 was, Arthur and Frank had a good share, 
 because in jumping in and out of the little 
 maze of box hedges, their feet did not clear 
 them thoroughly, and so in one or two places 
 they had left the impression of them. When 
 Rose heard what had really put her brother 
 out, she regretted having given way to her 
 own temper, but wisely thought it would be 
 useless to say so, and that the best way would 
 be to let the matter drop altogether. 
 
 Three days after Lady Fordyce had written 
 to her daughter, Mrs. Phillips, asking her to 
 look for lodgings for Mrs. Chichester in the 
 neighbourhood of Kensington, an answer 
 came, saying, she had devoted the two days 
 in hunting about, and had seen some in a 
 rather quiet part of Kensington that she 
 thought might answer ; they consisted of a 
 sitting-room and two bed-rooms, and they 
 were to be at the rate of a pound a week. 
 She had not of course promised to take 
 them, but she had said the person who let
 
 THE world's furniture. 151 
 
 them, should have an answer by return of 
 post, and that she begged there might be 
 no delay in it being sent. There appeared 
 no objection to them, no reason why Rose 
 should not decide on taking them, and she 
 therefore requested Lady Fordyce to write 
 and beg her daughter to secure them from 
 the following Tuesday, which left her an- 
 other week to spend at Burwood with her 
 little Hilda. She felt relieved that now 
 it was decided when she vvent, and where, 
 and she resolved to be as cheerful as possible 
 for the sake of those around her. 
 
 On Thursday morning Lady Fordyce re- 
 ceived another letter from her daughter, 
 saying she had sent to secure the apart- 
 ments for Mrs. Chichester ; and that if it 
 were convenient to receive them, she and 
 her husband proposed coming down to stay 
 from the following Saturday till Monday. 
 Lady Fordyce knew she must receive them, 
 she knew perfectly well she dared not refuse
 
 152 THE world's furniture. 
 
 her, for fear of what she might have to 
 endure in consequence. She knew her daugh- 
 ter's temper too well to risk offending her, 
 and therefore she wrote and told her she 
 would be very happy to see her and Captain 
 Philhps the day they named. 
 
 The whole of the remainder of that day, and 
 the next day together with the half of Satur- 
 day, that intervened previous to their arrival, 
 was passed by Lady Fordyce in trepidation 
 at what her daughter would think, and say 
 at the Chichesters being inmates of Burwood. 
 As they only stayed till Monday, and the 
 Chichesters did not leave till Tuesday, there 
 was no occasion to let her know Hilda was 
 to remain ; she would therefore be saved the 
 outburst she might expect on that head. 
 For it had been Mrs. Phillips' wish to have 
 an established home at Burwood, and only 
 to migrate from it for visits, or an occasional 
 stay in London ; but Lady Fordyce was only 
 too delighted to have got her daughter
 
 THE world's furniture. 153 
 
 marrried, and therefore as she fervently hoped 
 independent of her, not to make an effort 
 to adhere to that ; she put the blame therefore 
 on Sir William who was too little interested 
 either way, much to care what was arranged ; 
 though when his wife explained to him 
 that if her daughter was to have a perman- 
 ent home at Burwood, so must her husband, 
 Sir William began to be a little uneasy. He 
 thought Captain Phillips might interfere 
 with his stable or kennel, that certainly would 
 not suit him; so it did not require much 
 urging on his wife's part to make him say, 
 he thought it always advisable for young 
 -fJeople to have a house of their own ; but he 
 should be glad to see Matilda and her husband 
 as his guests as often as they liked 
 to come. And it had been on this under- 
 standing, that every now and then the 
 Phillips's wrote to say they were coming 
 down. 
 
 Poor Lady Fordyce was actually afraid
 
 154 THE world's furniture. 
 
 of her daughter, yet she was not a timid 
 woman ; but she loved peace, and she knew 
 with her there was none — that a word spoken 
 in jest might cause the deepest offence, a 
 look would do it sometimes, without even 
 the word, and then such a volley of accusa- 
 tions and complaints ensued, that her mother 
 would have willingly said or done anything 
 to have pacified her seemingly victimized 
 daughter. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that 
 she looked forward with unusual dread to 
 this Saturday till Monday visit. She feared 
 it was only on account of the Chichesters 
 she was coming, only to glean what she couM 
 as to the extent Sir William meant to help 
 them, so that if possible she might make 
 herself out more ill-used, ill-treated and ne- 
 glected on their account. 
 
 The carriage had been ordered to drive 
 and meet them at the Chadwick station, 
 the railway had not long been opened, for it
 
 THE WORLDS fURNlTURE. 155 
 
 was rather an out of the way place. Lady 
 Fordyce and Mrs. Chichester were waiting 
 luncheon in the breakfast-room till the 
 carriage returned with the expected guests. 
 The children had had their dinner and 
 judiciously sent out of sight. 
 
 " I suppose they will be here soon," said 
 Lady Fordyce; she wanted to say something 
 that would enable her to bring in a slight 
 caution for Rose, against her daughter hear- 
 ing of the arrangement about Hilda ; and she 
 feared, at the same time, displaying her 
 cowardice in regard to her ; but she thought 
 that would even be better than a scene with 
 Mrs. Phillips. '* I think you had better say 
 nothing about Hilda, because Matilda might, 
 without thinking, speak about her living 
 here before her, and it is better that should be 
 avoided." 
 
 "Certainly," answered Rose, "it would 
 perhaps make Hilda fret unnecessarily." 
 
 They now heard the carriage driving up
 
 156 THE world's furniture. 
 
 under the portico, it caused a rumbling 
 hollow sound, that you could hear in all the 
 lower rooms. Lady Fordyce went out to 
 meet her daughter and her husband, and 
 presently came in with them, and introduced 
 them to her sister-in-law. 
 
 Mrs. Phillips had a short, square built 
 figure, she was light, I cannot call her fair, 
 for she was very sallow ; her hair, which was 
 the only pleasing looking thing about her, 
 was decidedly pretty, it was fair and wavy. 
 Her face and forehead were flat, her nose was 
 like a negress's, and her mouth large, her 
 lips thick, her teeth rather projecting ; her 
 eyes would have been tolerable, but for their 
 expression and the want of eye-brows and 
 eye-lashes, which, however, she managed to 
 supply with some black stuff she rubbed on 
 the place where they ought to have been ; it 
 gave a horrible look to her face. 
 
 She was very well dressed, though her 
 bonnet was rather made to fit her neck than
 
 THE world's furniture. 157 
 
 her head. She might have been four and 
 twenty. She pretended to be short sighted, 
 so on entering the room, as her mother was 
 introducing her to Rose, she took up her 
 eye-glass, and looking at her, gave a cold 
 acknowledgment to her own salutation. 
 
 Captain Philips followed, he swaggered 
 in, he did not look capable of holding his 
 arms and legs sufficiently under control to 
 walk. He was very tall, very thin, and very 
 conceited, but if my readers will picture to 
 themselves Mephistopheles, I need not distress 
 them with further details, for in him they 
 will find the double of Captain Phillips, 
 or Captain Phillips rather the double of 
 him. 
 
 He, too, had the misfortune not to see 
 well, and constantly had a round piece of 
 glass stuck in his eye. If people really are 
 short sighted, I think they feel the incon- 
 venience so great, that they always have in 
 their possession a pair of spectacles, whereas
 
 158 THE world's furniture. 
 
 those who are so merely for their own plea- 
 sure, merely stick a round piece of common 
 window glass in their eye, which, as we are 
 always told pride feels no pain, we imagine 
 to be to them tolerably comfortable. 
 
 Captain Phillips bowed, walked up to the 
 fire place, stood with his back to it, though 
 no fire was there to warm him, placed his 
 feet a yard apart, and putting a hand in each 
 pocket of his coat, stood contemplating the 
 table, and wondering if the cold things 
 already on it, was all that was to be had, or 
 whether any warm dish had been ordered to 
 come up as soon as they arrived. 
 
 Mrs. Phillips walked up; no, she could 
 not walk either, hers was a waddle, so she 
 waddled up to the arm-chair, and sat 
 down very quietly, for unless peculiarly ex- 
 cited, she was quiet. She took off her glove, 
 which was very tight, and let her hand hang 
 over the arm of the chair ; her hand was 
 very white, though large and badly shaped
 
 THE world's furniture. 159 
 
 for her size, but being white, it looked 
 tolerably well. She turned to her mother, 
 and said in such a monotonous tone of voice, 
 " As usual, mamma, the train was nearly 
 half an hour late ; 1 do wonder the people in 
 the country, and especially those constantly 
 going between Chadwick and London, do 
 not try what they can do to make it a 
 little more punctual ; it really makes one 
 quite dread the journey/' 
 
 " Yes, my dear, it is very disagreeable, and 
 I am sure you found it very tiresome, and 
 you are, I dare say, both hungry and tired ; 
 just ring the bell, Tom, to hurry the servants 
 with the luncheon up. The latter part of 
 this speech was addressed to Captain Phillips, 
 who was only too glad to do as he was asked, 
 so he swung himself round to the bell, 
 pulled it, and swung himself back. As he did 
 so, his eyes fell on Mrs. Chichester, and he 
 thought her evidently an intruder, and 
 determined that she required no more civihty
 
 160 THE world's furniture. 
 
 than what is generally bestowed on a poor 
 relation. 
 
 Luncheon came up, and they all took their 
 seats at the table. It was very seldom Sir 
 William came in to luncheon ; he professed 
 not to be a luncheon-eater, but if ever he 
 happened to be in the way, he managed to 
 make such a good meal, that you could not 
 help wondering what he would do were he a 
 luncheon-eater. 
 
 Captain Phillips asked Lady Fordyce whether 
 he might help her to some of the dish before 
 him, and having done so, offered the same to 
 his wife ; but he turned to Mrs. Chichester, 
 and said, " Will you have some ?*' 
 
 "Not any, thank you," was the reply, 
 though it was really what she wanted ; but 
 she could not have eaten it, had it been given 
 her by that dreadful-looking man. He 
 looked impudent, as well as behaving rudely. 
 
 Rose was, therefore, very glad when lun- 
 cheon was over, and Lady Fordyce took her
 
 THE world's furniture. 161 
 
 daughter up to her room, so that she could 
 go too, and see where Hilda and the boys 
 were, for she always dreaded some mischief 
 with the latter, and some accident to the 
 former. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE world's furniture. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 On Monday morning, as the Phillips's 
 were to leave by the train at one o'clock, 
 Mrs. Phillips had determined to get a five 
 minutes' talk with her mother before leaving, 
 which, till then, Lady Fordyce had cleverly 
 escaped. But immediately after breakfast, 
 Matilda said, 
 
 " Will you come up stairs, mamma, with 
 me, I want to ask your opinion about some- 
 thing I have thought of." 
 
 This was the same as saying, " You must 
 let me speak to you alone, you shall not 
 avoid doing so this time." 
 
 And so Lady Fordyce felt it, for she an-
 
 THE world's furniture. 163 
 
 swered mildly, " Certainly, my dear ;" and as 
 Mrs. Phillips rose, her mother got up too, 
 and both left the room. 
 
 Hilda had not made herself at all amiable 
 to the Phillips's, she had been wilful and 
 tiresome the whole time they had been there, 
 always insisting on being in the way when 
 she was least wanted, and invariably doing 
 all that she thought would teaze Mrs. 
 Phillips ; consequently, whatever accident 
 befell any of her things, Mrs. Phillips, 
 justly, or unjustly, laid it to her charge. 
 
 The two boys, on the contrary, behaved 
 very well, and Mrs. Phillips took a great 
 fancy to Arthur, because he was very polite 
 and attentive to her, always ready to run and 
 get anything she wanted ; and she took an 
 equal fancy to Frank, because, she said, she 
 thought they were so much alike — both fair, 
 both curly hair, and, I suppose, had she not 
 thought it unnecessary, would have added, 
 both beautiful ; for, strangely enough, Mrs. 
 
 M 2
 
 164 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Phillips did think herself so. And she acted 
 as if she thought so ; she looked at people 
 sometimes with a very peculiar expression, as 
 if she were allowing them to look at her for 
 a minute, just to admire her. 
 
 As soon as Mrs. Phillips and her mother 
 had reached the bed-room, Mrs. Phillips 
 shut the door and sat down, evidently in- 
 tending to say all she had to say then and 
 there, for fear of not having another op- 
 portunity. 
 
 " I really am astonished, mamma, at the 
 way you treat Mrs. Chichester; you almost 
 behave to her as if she were the mistress of 
 the house, and yourself the guest. You will, 
 I am sure, repent it, for she is not a woman 
 to let any opportunity pass of pushing herself 
 forward. I think her a most disagreeable, 
 unpleasing person, and as to saying she is 
 nice-looking, why, her thin, pale face, and 
 sharp features with that ugly cap on her 
 head, is quite disagreeable to look at. How
 
 THE world's furniture. 165 
 
 you have endured her and the children all 
 this time, I don't know; however, you are 
 very fortunate to get rid of them all to- 
 morrow, and I hope you will not ask them 
 here again. 1 think you did quite enough 
 when you went to Calais, without inviting 
 them. I don't say anything ahout the boys, 
 they are well enough, but that odious little 
 Hilda, with her great eyes, is hateful; she 
 looks as if she had nothing but those in her 
 face, and they seem to follow one about 
 everywhere. I would not Uve in the house 
 with that child for the world ; besides, her 
 mischievous ways are dreadful." 
 
 Mrs. Phillips did not seem out of breath 
 though she paused ; her voice was so com- 
 pletely of one tone that it would have sent 
 any one to sleep to hear her make a long 
 speech at any time but in the morning. 
 
 " I think you have been hasty in your 
 judgment, Matilda; Mrs. Chichester has ap- 
 peared to me a quiet, unassuming, ladylike
 
 166 THE world's furniture. 
 
 woman, and, certainly, I have seen nothing 
 to make me think I shall ever regret any 
 attention I may have shewn her, and which 
 was due to her as my husband's sister, if not 
 from any other kinder feeling. With regard 
 to Hilda, I think differently of her, too. She 
 may be troublesome and naught}^, like most 
 children are at her age, but she is warm- 
 hearted, and firm in her likings and dislik- 
 ings. I don't know what you have done to 
 her to make her behave rudely to you, but it 
 certainly is not her natural disposition to an- 
 noy any one." 
 
 '' Well, you may choose to defend her, if 
 you like, but I believe her to be a bad dispo- 
 sitioned child. It was yesterday, after 
 church, as I was walking up the further 
 wood with Tom, that I saw her take away 
 a cake out of little Johnny Webb's hand, 
 and give it to that big dog she always is 
 with ; the boy who is less than herself, could 
 not therefore master her, began to cry very
 
 THE world's furniture. 167 
 
 loudly, I went up to Hilda and told her she 
 was a naughty girl, and I gave the dog a 
 tap with my parasol, and told him to go 
 away. She flew round at me as if I had 
 struck her, her face turned crimson, and her 
 eyes quite frightened me. 
 
 " * You horrid, ugly, nasty woman,' she 
 cried, * that bad boy took a big stone and 
 threw at Don, and though it did not hit 
 him, to punish him for being so wicked, I 
 took his cake and gave it to Don to make up 
 to him ; he shall not have stones thrown at 
 him, and you shan't hit him, you are more 
 wicked than Johnny, for you are big, he 
 is little, and I shall tell Auntie of you.' 
 
 " Now this is the child you think so much 
 of. Where she could learn all the words 
 she made use of, I cannot imagine, she must 
 have been very badly brought up, and for 
 your sake I shall be very glad when you have 
 got rid of the whole of them." 
 
 Lady Fordyce had not the courage to
 
 168 THE world's furniture. 
 
 tell her daughter the truth, and that she had 
 arranged for Hilda living with her altogether ; 
 she thought, too, Hilda was not so much to 
 blame in the little scene of yesterday as Mrs. 
 Phillips did, so she said. 
 
 " Hilda is so very fond of that dog, she 
 has been with him ever since she w^as born ; 
 httle William had no business to throw a 
 stone, it might have hit Don, or far worse, 
 Hilda herself, though I do not say she was 
 right in taking the law into her own hands. 
 She never mentioned the matter to me at 
 all, or I should have explained to her, that 
 she must not speak in that way to you, or 
 indeed any person. I do not think you can 
 do much with her, unless you use gentleness 
 and kindness, then I am sure she would be 
 yielding enough." 
 
 " Well, it may be so, but I don't think 
 it, and it won't much matter to either of us, 
 that is one comfort. Shall you come up to 
 town this season, I think you should ; you
 
 THE world's furniture. 169 
 
 let Sir William guide you in everything, 
 and he is so selfish he does not care what 
 you deny yourself, provided he does what 
 he likes. You have not been to town since 
 niy marriage, and really you will lose all 
 your friends if you don't come amongst them 
 a little." 
 
 Lady Fordyce did not care for the 
 London season ; there was so little pleasure 
 to her in going to parties at the time she 
 was accustomed to go to bed at, and she 
 was not young enough to take part in any 
 of the ordinary amusements ; but Matilda 
 wished her mother to go for her sake, for of 
 course she would entertain, and Matilda 
 could take her friends to her mother's house, 
 which would be the same almost as receiving 
 them at her own. Then they would have 
 an opera box, and Matilda never went to the 
 opera now ; she could not aiford to pay, and 
 friends did not seem to think of offering her 
 a seat in theirs. So Matilda was very anxious
 
 170 THE world's furniture. 
 
 to gain her point, and intended to appear 
 anxious only for the sake of seeing her mo- 
 ther oftener, and having her near her, 
 she added, 
 
 " I see so little of you now, mamma, and 
 if you came to town I could be with you 
 every day." 
 
 " I am afraid, my dear, we must not leave 
 Burwood till we go to Scotland, we having 
 been absent so many months ; and you know 
 we have only been back a few weeks, that 
 there is so much to see and to arrange, that 
 I don't think it would be right in me to 
 ask Sir William to go to town this year ; 
 but you know you can always come here 
 and stay with me, whenever you feel incUned, 
 and we can be much more together and 
 much more alone than if I was in London, 
 for the bustle and confusion there is quite 
 bewildering ; besides, I don't care for gaiety, 
 it was different before you were married, I 
 had a duty to perform in going out, but
 
 THE world's furniture. 171 
 
 now there could be no cause but for my own 
 pleasure, and really it would be none to me." 
 
 " 1 might have expected you would re- 
 fuse, it is generally the same with all I ask, 
 you find some good reason for not doing it. 
 However, I suppose it must be nearly time 
 for getting ready, unless the train is not more 
 punctual in starting than arriving." 
 
 Matilda got up, and her mother knew she 
 was done with, so she said, " I will go 
 down, and see that there is something for you 
 to take before you start." 
 
 And she left her daughter to dress, which 
 generally occupied a long time with her, what- 
 ever it was for. But it was accomplished at last, 
 and she went down stairs, where she found 
 her husband busily eating ; he seemed more 
 capable of doing that, then anything else, 
 and he did it well, which w^as what could 
 be said of nothing besides that he did. 
 
 The carriage drove up to the door, and 
 after waiting five minutes longer than they
 
 172 THE world's furniture. 
 
 ought, to see if Sir William came in, they 
 left their adieux for him, inwardly not sorry 
 at missing him, for he was no favourite of 
 Captain and Mrs. Phillips ; they wished Lady 
 Fordyce " good bye." Matilda gave the tip 
 of her tightly gloved hand to Mrs. Chi- 
 chester, Tom bowed, shook hands with the 
 boys, and off they went. 
 
 Hilda had not appeared, she felt they did 
 not like her, child as she was, and she had 
 no difficulty in finding out that she disliked 
 them. She was very quiet and did not speak 
 about it, she rarely expressed her feelings ; 
 she was what would be termed a close child 
 she thought an immense deal and noticed 
 everything, but said little. 
 
 It being the last day of the Chichester's 
 stay at Burwood, there was much to arrange 
 and settle. Rose almost wished that it had 
 been her who had gone, that the parting with 
 her child might be over. The days would 
 be so long and dreary without her. She
 
 THE world's furniture. 173 
 
 quite dreaded what she should feel at first ; 
 and she thought what Hilda would suffer, 
 she thought of the desolate feelings the child 
 would have the first night. She would have 
 to sleep alone, she would cry herself to 
 sleep, and how she should herself long at 
 her bed time to be with . her, to hear her 
 childish voice asking God to bless them all 
 and take care of them, and the next morning 
 she would awake up to be so lonely. She had 
 been so accustomed to be the companion of 
 her brothers, that she must feel very dull at 
 first, but it had to be gone through, and borne 
 by both of them, and at all events Hilda 
 was spared the anticipation of her sorrow — 
 and anticipation is so often worse than reality. 
 But we must not linger over it; like every 
 other occurrence in life, it came and passed. 
 Hilda thought it was only for a few days, 
 that she should soon go to her mother ; 
 her uncle was very kind, and said he would 
 have a new house made for Don, and
 
 174 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Hilda surely would wish to stop and see it, 
 and Don in it. It was a happy thought ; for 
 her mother and brothers were no sooner out of 
 sight, and driven out of the great gates, than 
 Hilda rushed round to the stables where 
 Don was generally to be found, and took 
 him by the collar, and dragged him along 
 by her side till she came to a very old oak- 
 tree, that had a seat built round it ; she sat on 
 the seat, and made Don jump up by the side 
 of her. 
 
 " Don," she said, " do you know something ? 
 well I will tell you, mamma has gone with 
 Arthur and Frank, and left me, and I am very 
 unhappy, I want you to love me, dear old 
 Don ; you won't leave me, wmII you ? and 
 Uncle William says he will have a new house 
 made for you, and you are to sleep in it at 
 night, and I shall come and see you in it. 
 Look at me, Don, do you hear. Sir ? turn your 
 head round, and listen to me, if you don't 
 I will go and leave you ; there's a good dog.
 
 THE world's furniture. 175 
 
 Now kiss me, and we will take a run to- 
 gether." 
 
 Lady Fordyce had been looking for Hilda, 
 she thought some little indulgence would 
 make her forget her mother's leaving. She 
 found her under the oak, just as she had 
 finished talking to Don ; so she told her she 
 was going into Chadwick with her Uncle to 
 look at a little Welsh pony that she thought 
 would just do for her, and if she liked she 
 should go with them and look at it, and that 
 she should buy her some cloth for the maid 
 to make her a habit. This delighted Hilda, 
 she said, 
 
 " Oh thank you, auntie 1 will the pony be 
 all my own ? how good you are to think about 
 it. Shall I go and get ready, and Don may 
 come after the carriage, may he not ?" 
 
 " Yes, dear, if you like, and run in and 
 be dressed, for the carriage will be here 
 directly," and off she runs forgetting for 
 the moment all her little trials, at the idea 
 of having a pony of her own.
 
 176 THE world's furniture. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 There is a small square in Kensington, 
 called Edward Square ; it is not much known 
 because it lies off the road, and unless your 
 business took you actually to the Square you 
 would never see it, for there is nothing be- 
 yond it ; I mean, there is no thoroughfare. 
 
 Following down the Kensington Road, 
 passing Lord Holland's park on the right, 
 you will see before you a bridge ; a little way 
 before getting up to that, is a narrow turning 
 on the left which takes you into Edward 
 Square. The houses in it are all small, and 
 each has a little piece of garden in front; 
 some of them being, however, gardens with-
 
 THE world's furniture. 177 
 
 out flowers, but most of them having a 
 square piece of grass growing in them. 
 
 In one of the centre houses, on the right 
 hand side of the Square, were the lodgings 
 taken for Mrs. Chichester by Mrs. Phillips. 
 She was to occupy the upper part of the 
 house, there being quite sufficient room for 
 herself and two children. She was quite 
 glad she had decided against taking the 
 whole, for it is not the actual rent that in- 
 creases the expenditure, but it is the constant 
 little repairs that are always being wanted in 
 a house. The doors won't shut, the windows 
 won't open, the chimneys smoke, the tables 
 and chairs are always being broken, the 
 blinds will roll down as fast as you draw 
 them up ; to say nothing of breakages and 
 the constant new wants servants are always 
 discovering. 
 
 No, Mrs. Chichester very wisely thought, 
 and equally wisely decided, it would be better 
 to know at once what her actual outlay 
 
 VOL. I. ^ N
 
 178 THE world's furniture. 
 
 would be, and not to be daily, or, perbaps, 
 even hourly vexed by something extra that 
 she had never calculated on. It was thus, 
 shortly after her return to England, she and 
 her children went to Hve in Edward Square, 
 Kensington. 
 
 It seemed very close and confined to them 
 at first ; the drawing-room was very neat 
 and clean; the back room was to be their 
 dining-room and the two rooms above were 
 for their bed-rooms ; the front one for Mrs. 
 Chichester, the back, which had two beds in 
 it, for Arthur and Frank. 
 
 She was anxious, as soon as possible, to 
 get her boys to a school. She thought of 
 the clergyman Arthur had been with when 
 they were in Calais, and he came over to 
 England, but she thought it would be im- 
 possible for her to manage it for them both ; 
 and Frank must go, too, she could not se- 
 parate them. And so she determined, with- 
 out loss of time, to go and see about the
 
 THE world's furniture. 179 
 
 Kensington Grammar School. Arthur was 
 very anxious not to be losing time, he 
 was old enough to feel the necessity of 
 working hard to make up for the past ; 
 besides, he had another motive; he hoped, 
 in a year or two, to be able to get some ap- 
 pointment that would not only relieve his 
 mother of his expense, but that he might 
 contribute to her comforts. He did not like 
 the feeling that any of them were indebted to 
 Sir William Fordyce for the increase of 
 means ; he did not like his uncle, he thought 
 him selfish and overbearing, and he longed 
 to be able to render his mother independent 
 of her brother. 
 
 Frank had grown much taller and stronger 
 of late, and perfectly able to make his own 
 way with other boys. He was a fine, manly 
 little fellow, but a totally different spirit from 
 Arthur; he w'as all heart and feeling, and 
 generous to a degree. He gave everything 
 he had. He never had anything, because, 
 
 N 2
 
 180 THE world's furniture. 
 
 the moment he had anything given to him, 
 he was sure to meet some one who just 
 wanted what he had — and so they got it. 
 His mother never let him go out alone since 
 about a week after they came to town. She 
 sent him with a letter to the post ; it was 
 raining, so he took an umbrella with him, 
 but he returned without it, and very wet. 
 
 " Why, Frank, have you left your um- 
 brella at the post office ? How foolish of 
 you ! You are all wet, and will take cold. 
 Go and take your things off directly." 
 
 " No, mamma ; there was a poor girl with- 
 out any clothes scarcely, nothing but rags, 
 and she looked so miserable, and cold, and 
 wet, I was obliged to give it her, because, 
 you know, I had my cap on, and this thick 
 coat, and it seemed so dreadful that I should 
 be so comfortable and not help her. She 
 was very pleased, and ran off as hard as she 
 could. I am not very wet, but I will go 
 and take my things off."
 
 THE world's furniture. 181 
 
 His mother could say nothing to him, 
 only she would not trust him alone till he 
 was a better judge of how charity should be 
 given. It was fortunate his brother was 
 more careful and thoughtful, for his influence 
 with Frank was sufficient, when they were 
 together, just to keep him at the right point. 
 
 Mrs. Chichester went and saw the head- 
 master at the Kensington Grammar School, 
 and it was settled the two boys were to go at 
 once and commence their studies. 
 
 Poor Rose felt very lonely the first few 
 days ; she had never been parted from all 
 her children before, and though the boys 
 were only away for the day, as they returned 
 home at five every evening, she was so used 
 to have Frank and Hilda always with her, 
 that it seemed very desolate at first. She 
 disliked being alone, she disliked walking 
 alone ; she preferred staying at home to 
 doing so. She knew no one in London, and 
 if she had, the distance to Edward Square
 
 182 THE world's furniture. 
 
 would have been too great for any one to 
 have thought of going to see her, still less to 
 walk with her. 
 
 A few days after they left Burwood, she 
 received a long letter from Lady Fordyce, 
 with full details of all Hilda's sayings and 
 doings. The pony was bought, and Hilda 
 every morning had an hour's ride, with the 
 groom to lead the pony ; next week she was 
 to hold the reins alone, and the groom walk 
 by her side. Don was her constant com- 
 panion, and fraternized famously with the 
 pony. Lady Fordyce was looking out for a 
 nursery governess for her, and she was to 
 have dancing lessons from the masters in 
 Chadwick, which would do well enough till 
 she was a httle older. She was very happy, 
 and sent loads of kisses to mamma, Arthur, 
 and Frank, and would come to see them 
 soon. 
 
 The letter was a great comfort to Rose ; 
 half the worry she felt, was the fear the
 
 THE world's furniture. 183 
 
 child might be fretting, but once assured that 
 was not the case, she felt thankful that she 
 had not refused Lady Fordyce's offer. Her 
 two brothers were very sorry not to see her 
 pretty face every morning and every evening, 
 but they, too, knew it was for her benefit, and 
 there was no use in adding to their mother's 
 bad spirits, by not being cheerful and happy 
 when- they were with her. And boys never 
 care for much beyond a fight and their 
 marbles. 
 
 Mrs. Chichester had been about two 
 months in Edward Square, it was the end of 
 June, that a brougham drove up to her 
 house, and Mrs. Phillips got out. Rose had 
 imbibed a little of Lady Fordyce's dread of 
 her, and thought she would only call to say 
 something disagreeable, she felt therefore 
 anything but at ease as Mrs. Phillips walked in. 
 
 "How do you do, Mrs. Chichester? I 
 called to see how you liked your apartments, 
 and if they are what you wished, for I should
 
 184 THE world's furniture. 
 
 be sorry to have been the means of Sir 
 William Fordyce's sister living in any place 
 unsuited to her/' 
 
 When Mrs. Phillips came in, Rose was 
 sitting at the window with a little round 
 table before, covered with work; she rose, 
 and was going up to shake hands with her, 
 but Mrs. Phillips did not intend that fa- 
 miliarity, so she bowed, and took a chair 
 Rose offered her, and sat down. 
 
 "I am very satisfied indeed with these 
 rooms, and I have to thank you for having so 
 kindly secured them for me. The landlady is 
 most obliging and civil, and altogether being 
 so near the boys' school, it is exactly what I 
 wanted." 
 
 " Have you heard lately from Burwood ?" 
 asked Mrs. Phillips. *' I understand you 
 left your little girl there ; it was clever of you 
 to manage it so quietly and so well, but my 
 mother is easily duped, so I suppose you had 
 not much trouble."
 
 THE world's furniture. 185 
 
 "I don't quite understand you, Mrs. 
 Phillips," answered Mrs. Ciiichester, " I am 
 not aware of having left my little girl under 
 your mother's charge, in any manner that 
 should call forth such a remark ; it was at 
 your mother's earnest request I did so, and 
 not by any wish of mine." 
 
 " Then why was there all that deceit 
 practised at the time ; there was no mention 
 made of it in any way whilst I was there, only 
 the day before you left."- 
 
 "That is easily accounted for, for your 
 mother, with her usual kindness of heart, 
 thought it would be giving useless sorrow to 
 my child, were she to hear beforehand she 
 was to be left, and so it was decided nothing 
 should be said by either of us, for fear of her 
 hearing of it ; but I think it due to Lady 
 Fordyce that the matter should not be dis- 
 cussed between us. I hope Captain Phillips 
 is quite well ?" ♦ 
 
 *' Yes, thank you, he is always well, though
 
 186 THE world's furniture. 
 
 he looks far from strong. Are your boys at 
 home ? I should like to see your youngest 
 son's face again, it was a sweet face, one 
 could not help liking him ; he might almost 
 pass for my brother, he is so fair ; don't you 
 think there is some resemblance ?" 
 
 Mrs. Chichester looked up at Mrs. Phil- 
 lips' repulsive, flat, sallow face, and then 
 thought of Frank's ; no, she could not bring 
 herself to say she thought there was any like- 
 ness, but it would not do to make Mrs. Phil- 
 lips her enemy, she must try and say some- 
 thing that would not offend. 
 
 " I don't think mothers are any judges of 
 their children's faces, I am so accustomed to 
 see Frank always before me, that I don't 
 think I should ever trace a likeness to any 
 one, however much to other people's eyes 
 they might resemble. People generally think 
 Arthur like me, but I cannot trace the least 
 likeness, except that we are both dark. They 
 are both at school, but they are always home
 
 THE world's furniture. 187 
 
 by five, so I daresay they will not be very 
 long, and I am sure they will be very pleased 
 to see you." 
 
 "I am afraid I cannot stay, but if you will 
 send them to see me some day, I shall be very 
 glad. Are you going down to Burwood soon ?" 
 
 " No, I cannot afford to travel, and I think 
 it is better on Hilda's account I should not 
 go yet, though Lady Fordyce has been very 
 kind, and asked me to go during the boys' 
 holidays ; however, they are not for another 
 month, so something may occur between 
 this and then, that may enable me to go." 
 
 Mrs. Phillips went, she learnt .what she 
 wished to know, that Mrs. Chichester and 
 her children, were to be received at Burwood, 
 and the door not closed on them, as she 
 desired it should be. She thought poor 
 people were never fit to go into society ; they 
 dressed so badly, their clothes were put on 
 differently to other peoples. It seemed to her 
 as if they always had written all over them.
 
 188 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " Poverty." And why had her mother taken 
 such a fancy to this poor widow ? she was not 
 generally given to favour poverty any more 
 than herself. She must go to Burwood, and try 
 and poison her mother's good opinion of 
 Mrs. Chichester, she must try and drive out 
 that odious child. 
 
 What could her mother want with her ? it 
 must be a great nuisance to have a child con- 
 stantly with her, and the expense must be 
 very great. How much better would it be to 
 increase her income, than waste so much on 
 a girl, that at best ought only to expect to be 
 educated for a governess, for the position her 
 mother was in could warrant nothing better. 
 It was very little that she was a baronet's 
 daughter, and a baronet's sister, she was also 
 a clergyman's widow, who left her without a 
 penny, and three children to support. She 
 had married to please herself, against her 
 father's desire, it was right she should suffer 
 for it, and it should not be Mrs. Phillips' fault,
 
 189 
 
 • 
 
 if she were not soon made to feel more 
 bitterly her dependent position. • But she 
 must be cautious, she already found she 
 made a mistake, in speaking to her as she 
 did, about her little girl being left at 
 Burwood, it would not do to appear an open 
 enemy, she must be kind to the boys, and 
 try to be a little civil to their mother, but she 
 would lose no time in doing all she could to 
 place a barrier between her mother and her 
 sister-in-law. 
 
 So she went home, and at once wrote a 
 letter to Lady Fordyce, saying she had been 
 to see Mrs. Chichester, and was quite pre- 
 pared to be friendly and kind ; but the way 
 she met her advances were so objectionable, 
 that she really could not continue to see her, 
 if she greeted her in such a manner. That 
 she talked of Burwood as if it were her 
 home, and as if she could go and come as it 
 suited her, and, altogether, evidently wished 
 her to see that it was her brother's house,
 
 190 THE world's furniture. 
 
 • 
 
 consequently she had a right to speak as she 
 did. 
 
 Letters always have a certain effect, however 
 false they may be thought ; and if it is dis- 
 agreeable information they contain, they are 
 much more likely to influence the feehngs of 
 the person it is addressed to than if the 
 news w^ere pleasing —so it was that Lady 
 Fordyce, on receiving her daughter's letter, 
 had an uncomfortable feeling come over 
 her. She knew her daughter was not inchned 
 to like Mrs. Chichester, but still she thought 
 she scarcely would write all she had done, 
 were there not some slight foundation for it. 
 Lady Fordyce could not bear that any one 
 shoul'd make themselves free with her or her 
 house, she was willing enough to be hospit- 
 able and courteous, but she liked be so of 
 her own free mW. 
 
 She would have liked to have written, and 
 told Mrs. Chichester what her daughter had 
 said, but she did not dare to do so. What
 
 THE world's furniture. 191 
 
 made her still more inclined to think Rose 
 had treated Matilda in a haughty manner, 
 was the total absence in the letter of any 
 mention of Hilda, and that she knew to be 
 the sorest point with Mrs. Phillips. 
 
 Lady Fordyce was not clever enough to 
 see through her daughter, or she would have 
 known from that very cause, there was no 
 truth in her letter ; but Mrs. Phillips had well 
 calculated how much she might in safety 
 write to her mother, and she felt an allusion to 
 Hilda would destroy the whole. Her mother, 
 she was sure, was too fond of the child to 
 believe anything that would cause her to 
 wish she had never taken her. Hilda was 
 beginning to be a great comfort to her aunt, 
 she was constantly with her, and was very 
 fond of her, and Lady Fordyce had never 
 felt the same clinging feeling for her own 
 child as she did for Hilda. There was 
 something more attractive in her to her 
 aunt than would have been with any other
 
 192 THE world's furniture. 
 
 child, for she was cold, distant and almost 
 proud in her manner to every one but her- 
 self, and she seemed with her to be a different 
 little bein^, warm and affectionate beyond mea- 
 sure; this must be attractive to the one 
 person so distinguished. 
 
 Sir William looked on her, as he would 
 have done, had an addition been made in 
 the family circle by a dog, or a new piece 
 of furniture brought in, that he found in the 
 way. He was not fond of Hilda, but he 
 was glad she was there as his wife seemed 
 pleased. He was always kind to her, but 
 if she came into the room whilst he was 
 reading or writing, and asked him a question, 
 he would pat her on the head, and tell her 
 to run away and play with the dogs. . Hilda 
 did not like this sort of treatment, she 
 thought her uncle must think she was fit 
 for nothing but the stables. 
 
 How^ever, things went on smoothly enough 
 at Burwood- The summer passed without
 
 THE world's furniture. 193 
 
 Mrs. Chichester going down, and the time 
 was drawing near for the journey to Scot- 
 land. There was much thought what it would 
 be best to do about Hilda. Sir William 
 said he thought she should be sent to her 
 mother for the two months they were away ; 
 Lady Fordyce, wished to take her, she 
 thought it would do her good, and also as 
 she could take the governess she could go 
 on with her studies. But at all events she 
 was against her going to her mother, they 
 had been recently parted ; two months passed 
 with her would make her forget the time 
 she had been at Burwood, and there would 
 be the same sorrow again at parting. 
 
 If she might not take her to Scotland 
 she could leave her at Burwood. This Sir 
 William did not like, nor did he like her 
 going with them, for the expense of the 
 extra servants travelling would be very great, 
 he said. Sir William thought nothing of 
 paying two hundred guineas for a horse that 
 
 "vol. I. o
 
 194 THE world's furniture. 
 
 struck his fancy, but two hundred shillings 
 for any one else he grudged. He was a 
 selfish man, but his wife had some influence 
 with him, and so finding she was bent on one 
 or the other of her own plans, he gave in to 
 Hilda going with them. 
 
 There was another advantage in her 
 going, that as they must pass through town, 
 she could see her mother and brothers; it 
 was fortunate there was that pleasure in 
 prospect, for she had to take the first leave 
 of Don that she had ever done since she was 
 born. She gave many directions to the 
 groom who had the charge of him and her 
 pony, how they were to be treated, and 
 went the morning of their departure to bid 
 them both farewell ; she came back to her 
 aunt with a very gloomy face, but it soon 
 regained its contented expression, when she 
 reminded her who she was going to see. 
 
 It was a short but happy meeting between 
 the mother and child — the boys thought her
 
 THE world's furniture. 195 
 
 so grown and so improved. Her mother felt 
 she could have no cause to fret for her, she 
 showed in her face the signs of perfect hap- 
 piness and health. There was so much to 
 ask and to hear, but that only was interesting 
 to themselves. Frank was so sorry there was 
 to be so short a time, for they were to start 
 for Scotland early the following morning ; but 
 on their return there would be another short 
 meeting, and that was something for her 
 mother at all events to look forward to. 
 After leaving Hilda at her mother's. Lady 
 Fordyce went back to the hotel to see her 
 daughter, who was to be there to meet her. 
 There was very little to say on her part, but 
 she had to listen to more accusations against 
 Mrs. Chichester. Lady Fordyce, however, 
 could judge better, on seeing her daughter's 
 countenance, the feelings that actuated her in 
 speaking so, than when she read a carefully 
 worded letter. Mrs. Phillips had been on 
 her guard writing, but the tongue is an 
 
 o 2
 
 196 THE world's furniture. 
 
 unnily member, and not so easily guarded as 
 a pen. Lady Fordyce was glad, however, that 
 her eyes were opened, and she reproached her- 
 self very much for having allowed herself to 
 misjudge her sister-in-law even for a moment. 
 At nine the next morning, Sir William and 
 Lady Fordyce, and Hilda, with the governess 
 and servants started for the Highlands. Sir 
 William had not found time to see his sister 
 before leaving. She felt this slight very 
 much, though she ought to have known him 
 well enough by this, not to have expected him 
 to have put himself out of the way for her ; and 
 yet I think if his sister had been a Duchess 
 or even a Countess, and had lived at Ham- 
 mersmith instead of Kensington, he might 
 have managed to have driven over. It is 
 astonishing how great people succeed in 
 making others even lengthen time to suit 
 them if necessary, whilst poverty seems to 
 have the misfortune of withering it up. 
 There is an old saying that *' Time was made
 
 THE world's furniture. 197 
 
 for slaves," it seems to me it is made for the 
 rich and influential ; at all events, they make 
 use of other people's as well as their own, as 
 if it were. It is alike in everything as well 
 as time. The poor must cringe to the rich, 
 and the rich will always trample on the poor, 
 and make them feel that a great gulf lies be- 
 tween them.
 
 198 THE world's furniture. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Seven years have elapsed since the close 
 of the last chapter, but few changes have 
 taken place, beyond the effect years generally 
 have on people. After thirty, years do not 
 improve man or woman, but before that, they 
 make but little change, except on the very 
 young, and to them it is an improvement. 
 And so we find it in Arthur, Frank, and 
 Hilda. Arthur was now eighteen, he had 
 left school about a year, and had, by his 
 uncle's wish, travelled abroad during the last 
 twelve months. Mr. Bingham, an old friend 
 of his father's, and who had been the means
 
 THE world's furniture. 199 
 
 of procuring him the chaplaincy at Calais, 
 had offered to take Arthur with him through 
 Germany, France, and Italy, at his own ex- 
 pense ; and he left nothing undone, that could 
 he done, to improve him in every way ; for 
 there were hopes if he attained a knowledge 
 of German, together with the thorough know- 
 ledge he had of French, that an appointment 
 in the Foreign Office might be obtained for 
 him. 
 
 Arthur had just returned with Mr. Bing- 
 ham, he had quite changed from the boy to 
 the man ; it is astonishing what a few^ months 
 on the continent, and mixing in good 
 society, does for an Englishman — they lose 
 that rough, shy, ungainly manner, so common 
 amongst young men who have been entirely 
 brought up in England, and acquire that 
 quiet, easy, unaffected demeanour that one 
 invariably meets in foreigners. There is a 
 gentleness of manner, and an apparent in- 
 terest in all they hear, and are saying, that
 
 200 THE world's furniture. 
 
 whether assumed or genuine, is nevertheless 
 very pleasing. 
 
 Arthur, to a great extent, needed this, for 
 there was something harsh in his manner, 
 especially when with his own family ; and he 
 was therefore very much improved on his 
 return to England, and seemed to have lost 
 much of his hard ways. 
 
 Frank was to leave the Grammar-school as 
 soon as his brother returned ; he had shown 
 a great desire for a sailor's life, but owing to 
 his delicate health, it was thought unadvisable 
 for him to go into the navy; that being 
 closed to him, his next choice was the army, 
 and Sir William Fordyce had got his name 
 down for a commission at the Horse Guards 
 some few months, so that there was every hope 
 of his obtaining it soon. 
 
 He had scarcely altered in face, but had 
 grown very much ; he was taller than Arthur. 
 He still had that gentle loving manner, that 
 won every one's heart. Mrs. Chichester
 
 THE world's furniture. 201 
 
 had suffered very much in health, she looked 
 very ill, and all remains of youth were quite 
 gone. She never had thoroughly recovered 
 the blow her husband's death caused her, and 
 it seemed she never would. She took no 
 interest in anything but her children, all 
 things else seemed irksome to her, there was 
 an indifference in her to all, that to strangers 
 seemed inconceivable. 
 
 But she suffered in secret, she knew she 
 was affected by a disease that must terminate 
 her life suddenly, and she never went out 
 alone, without dreading she might be brought 
 home dead ; this very knowledge gave her a 
 nervous, anxious look that was very painful 
 to see.' She so dreaded dying before her 
 boys should be provided for ; about Hilda 
 she was quite happy ; she knew her to be 
 better cared for than she had ever dreamed 
 would have been possible. 
 
 Hilda was now thirteen years old ; she 
 was not improved, her face had a heavy look.
 
 202 THE world's furniture. 
 
 and her mouth had an expression about it, 
 that might make one think she was sulky. 
 She had been the idol of Lady Fordyce, not a 
 wish had ever been expressed by her but that 
 it was instantly gratified ; her uncle had 
 become fonder of her too, he had got ac- 
 customed to see her, and missed her, and 
 asked for her if she was not present when he 
 was at home. 
 
 He had taught her to ride, and was proud 
 of her as his pupil, for no young lady in the 
 county, could clear a hedge hke Hilda Chi- 
 chester ; and her uncle made her a present 
 every time she won the brush out hunting, 
 which was very often. He mounted her better 
 than any one else was, and so he expected her 
 to do something in return. 
 
 But the time had now come when Lady 
 Fordyce thought she ought to be sent to 
 school ; for she had a notion, and we do not 
 wish to say it was a bad one in the light she 
 saw it in, that a girl from thirteen to sixteen
 
 THE world's furniture. 203 
 
 was too young and too old to go into society. 
 The house was generally, after their return 
 honne, full in the hunting season, and 
 Hilda had always joined in the amuse- 
 ments, but she thought that would not do 
 now. She was too old to be treated as a 
 child, too young to be treated as a woman. 
 Therefore, in her own mind, she had deter- 
 mined to send her to a Mrs. Dalton, a first 
 rate school in London, where only a few 
 pupils were taken, and there she could have 
 all the best masters. 
 
 Mrs. Fenton, their nearest neighbour at 
 Burwood, had sent her daughter there, and 
 Lady Fordyce was so struck with the improve- 
 ment in her, that she had written to Mrs. 
 Dalton and made all inquiries ; there was a 
 great barrier to get over before she could 
 quite settle it. She knew her husband would 
 oppose it, but she would try at once, this very 
 day. 
 
 They were seated at a round table in the
 
 204 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 
 
 breakfast room, dinner was just over, the 
 servants had put on desert, and left the room ; 
 there was no time to be lost, for Hilda would 
 come in presently. 
 
 "I think, Sir William, it would be better, 
 instead of taking Hilda to Scotland this 
 year, to leave her at the same school Mary 
 Fenton is at. She is getting too old to be so 
 much with young men, they treat her still as 
 if she were a child of six or seven, and it 
 is impossible to shut her up with me ; and 
 then when we come back, and have the 
 Wetheralls, and Stanleys, and all those people, 
 with the house constantly full, it will be so 
 much better, till she is seventeen or eighteen, 
 to keep her out of it." 
 
 " What has put such a very absurd notion 
 into your head, my dear, Hilda is very well 
 where she is ; she thinks of nothing but her 
 horse and dog, and I am sure she will learn 
 much more harm at school, than she will 
 ever learn here."
 
 THE world's furniture. 205 
 
 " I don't mean," said Lady Fordyce, " that 
 I think she will learn or see any harm, but it 
 will make her old, before she is much more 
 than a child, constantly being and mixing 
 with grown up people. She has been so little 
 with girls of her own age that it will, I am 
 sure, do her good, and she will lose that 
 sedate way she has with her ; she looks as if 
 she wanted rousing, and I think nothing will 
 do that so well as regular and continued 
 study with young people like herself." 
 
 " You would not have said she wanted 
 rousing, had you seen her on * Springfly,* 
 yesterday ; why she is a different creature on 
 horseback; it does one good to see her take 
 him over a five-barred gate, whilst those 
 muffs of men that go with us, are standing 
 with their horses' reins over their arms, try- 
 ing to unfasten them." 
 
 Hilda opened the door at this moment. 
 She was dressed in a pretty pink frock, w^ith 
 her hair in long curls down her back ; but
 
 206 THE world's furniture. 
 
 for the eyes, we should not recognise her as 
 the same Hilda we saw seven years ago. 
 She is not tall, nor pretty, but she will be, 
 her features are so well shaped. It is her 
 face that looks heavy ; and she has a sedate 
 look that will wear off as she gets older. 
 
 " Hilda, dear, go into the hbrary for a few 
 minutes ; you can order tea and make it for 
 me. I will come to you presently." 
 
 Hilda walked through the other door that 
 led to the library through the dining-room 
 without saying a word. 
 
 "You are, I daresay, right," said Lady 
 Fordyce, *' about Hilda taking thorough de- 
 light in riding, but that surely is not the only 
 accomplishment necessary for a young lady, 
 unless she is being brought up to break in 
 horses, or teach riding. I am very anxious 
 she should have some finishing masters, 
 which it is impossible for her to have here ; 
 and even if she could, the constant interrup- 
 tions from one thing and another would
 
 THE world's furniture. 207 
 
 prevent her having any real benefit. Miss 
 Williams has done very well for her till now, 
 but it is quite necessary she should have 
 other instruction to what she can give her." 
 
 " It will be the ruin of the girl if you send 
 her to school. I don't care what school, 
 they are all alike. They think of nothing, 
 and talk of nothing but lovers, and fill each 
 other's heads with more trash than she could 
 hear here in fifty years ; and she will lose 
 all her nerve in riding. I know, myself 
 even, what it is to give it up for a month or 
 two, why I can't hold a horse ; and what 
 will it be with her? A girl that can go 
 across country as she can, can't want teach- 
 ing anything." 
 
 " Well, we can try it for a quarter at all 
 events ; she can go next month when we go 
 to Scotland, and if we find it does not im- 
 prove her, why, there will not be much harm 
 done, and she need not return." 
 
 " 1 suppose there is not the least use in
 
 208 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 
 
 arguing with you. I only know now Hilda 
 is fit for something, when she comes home 
 from school she will be fit for nothing. 
 Schools are the destruction of girls. But 
 you must take your own way, I shall say no 
 more, only don't let me hear anything fur- 
 ther about it," said Sir William, and he got 
 up, and walked out of the room into the hall. 
 
 Lady Fordyce was sorry her husband was 
 vexed, but she knew it was for Hilda's good, 
 and she never gave in on a point where she 
 felt she was right. 
 
 She joined Hilda in the library. She 
 found her reading, the only in-door amuse- 
 ment she appeared to take any pleasure in. 
 
 " I will tell you, Hilda, now, what I was 
 talking to your uncle about when you came 
 into the room. I am afraid it will be some- 
 thing that won't quite please you, dear, but it 
 will be for your good. I wish to send you 
 to school till you are a little older, I think it 
 will do you so much good to be with girls of
 
 THE world's furniture. 209 
 
 your own age ; you are grown so sedate and 
 steady-looking, Hilda, that I sometimes for- 
 get you are still but a child, and talk to you 
 as if you were as old as Matilda. And so I 
 think next month, when we go to Scotland, 
 I shall make arrangements for you to go to 
 Mrs. Dalton's, where Mary Fen ton is. You 
 will be near enough to your mamma for her 
 to come and see you, and for you to go 
 sometimes to see her." 
 
 Hilda listened very attentively, her great 
 eyes fixed on her aunt's face. She saw her 
 aunt was pained about parting with her, and 
 that she dreaded Hilda should add to it by 
 her own regrets ; so she determined to 
 master the rebellious tears that felt inclined 
 to come into her eyes, and said, in almost a 
 cheerful voice, 
 
 " I am sure, dear aunt, it must be for my 
 good, or you would not send me from you ; 
 and I will try and learn a great deal to make 
 up for lost time." 
 
 VOL. I, P
 
 210 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " And now, Hilda, I have a piece of good 
 news for you ; your uncle received a letter 
 this morning from the Horse-Guards, telling 
 him Frank is to get his commission imme- 
 diately." 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad," said Hilda. " Dear 
 Frank, how delighted he will be, and how 
 handsome he will look in his uniform ! 
 What will he have to do? Will he go 
 away ?" 
 
 " I hope not," answered her aunt, '' at 
 least, not away from England. I hope his 
 regiment may be stationed in England ; but 
 till we know what regiment he will be at- 
 tached to, we cannot tell. There is your 
 uncle walking in the garden ; let us go to 
 him. He is not quite pleased at the idea of 
 losing his companion in his rides ; so you 
 must try and console him by telling him you 
 are not so very averse to it as he imagined 
 you would be." 
 
 Lady Fordyce arranged to go and stop in
 
 THE world's furniture. 211 
 
 town for a week, before going to Scotland, 
 that she might see how Hilda got on, and 
 also that Sir William might see what he 
 could do about Arthur, for it was time he 
 was provided for. After all, he was not such 
 a bad brother, though he did things in a 
 disagreeable way, and he had to be asked to 
 do all he did, nothing ever seemed to spring 
 from himself He was fond of his wife and 
 fond of Hilda, now that he had to part with 
 her, but anything that was disagreeable to 
 him in that way, he never let worry him, 
 because he threw it off, as he would a tight 
 coat that hurt him, he would not think of 
 it, so he determined to forget Hilda's exis- 
 tence altogether. After much writing and 
 talking, and daily walks to Downing Street, 
 Sir William Fordyce at last succeeded in 
 getting Arthur into the Foreign Office. 
 
 Arthur had just returned home, and was 
 overjoyed with his prospects; all was not 
 so bright with Frank, he had just been 
 
 p 2
 
 212 THE world's furniture. 
 
 appointed to his regiment, which was ordered 
 to sail for India in six weeks. It was a sad 
 piece of news to them all, for what prospect 
 was there of all ever meeting again, espe- 
 cially Mrs. Chichester — she seemed over- 
 w^helmed at first, hut she was accustomed 
 to grief, and equally accustomed to try and 
 hide it for the sake of others ; but it never- 
 theless told on her. Perhaps, had she given 
 way to it, it would have been better for her, 
 but concealing it as she did, it seemed to 
 be eating her very life away. 
 
 She exerted herself to do all that she could 
 for her boy, that everything might be 
 comfortable for him. His uncle delayed 
 going to Scotland another week at Lady 
 Fordyce's suggestion, that she might help 
 Rose if she could ; she was all kindness to 
 the poor widow. Hilda came once or 
 twice to her mother's house to see her 
 favourite brother ; she, too, felt his going
 
 THE world's furniture. 213 
 
 very much, for she loved him very dearly, 
 he was always so gentle and kind to her. 
 
 " You will see what beautiful things Iwill 
 send you home, Hilda, you shall look like 
 an eastern Princess ; but you won't forget 
 me, will you darling, whether 1 send you 
 anything or not ? and write to me very often, 
 and tell me how you get on at school." 
 
 Promises were made and exchanged, and 
 well fulfilled. The parting was a very 
 sorrowful one, for it seemed almost like 
 one without any hope of meeting. Arthur 
 went with his brother to see the last of him, 
 and with a " God bless you old fellow," and 
 a grasp of the hand, the brothers parted.
 
 214 THE world's furniture. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "Aunt, oh, dear aunt, such a dreadful 
 thing has happened ! what shall I do f and 
 Hilda sat down and burst into tears. 
 
 " My dear child what is it, what is the 
 matter ?" but it was useless for Lady 
 Fordyce to ask, nothing but tears were the 
 answer. 
 
 Hilda had come home for her Christmas 
 holidays, and had gone back to her old 
 habit of riding and driving with her uncle ; 
 she had almost forgotten six months had 
 passed since she had been at Burwood, 
 excepting the feeling that all appeared so
 
 THE world's furniture. 215 
 
 much happier and brighter to her than it 
 ever did before. Her uncle seenaed as glad 
 to have her back again as her aunt, and the 
 joy displayed by Don, she thought it al- 
 most worth having been away to be made so 
 much of. 
 
 But the cause of Hilda's grief must be 
 seen to. As Lady Fordyce could get nothing 
 out of her, she sent to enquire what had 
 happened, she began herself to fear all kinds 
 of dreadful things. The first thought that 
 crossed her, was whether anything had 
 happened to Sir William ; she felt sick and 
 trembling at the idea, she could hardly get 
 across the hall, but that anxiety was soon 
 relieved, for on opening the glass door that 
 led through to the out offices and stables, 
 she came against her husband who was 
 coming through himself. 
 
 " What is it, Sir William, that has hap- 
 pened ?" 
 
 " Poor Don."
 
 216 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " Thank God !" exclaimed poor Lady 
 Fordyce. It was such a relief to her that she 
 did not for the moment feel to care what 
 could happen to Don, or any other dumb 
 animal. 
 
 "Thank God, what for pray?" said Sir 
 William. " Thank God for that poor beast, 
 being crushed to death. Where is Hilda ? she 
 darted away when John told me, and I have 
 not seen her since.'' 
 
 " Hilda is in the library, it was she who 
 frightened me so ; do tell me what has hap- 
 pened to the dog ?" 
 
 " Poor Don has been killed. He has been 
 run over by the express train, as it was going 
 by half an hour ago, just below the bridge. 
 The guard sent up from the Dornley station 
 to tell me, and I sent John instantly, and he 
 has gone to bring the poor brute back. They 
 say he naust have died instantly, it is his 
 head crushed."
 
 THE world's furniture. 217 
 
 Lady Fordyce went ba€k to the library. 
 Hilda was standing up, watching the door, 
 tears still streaming down her face ; her aunt 
 went up to her and put her arm round her 
 and said, 
 
 " Hilda, dear, this is a grief to you T 
 know, and it is very sad the poor old dog 
 should have had such an end ; but you must 
 remember he was very old, and could not 
 have lived long, and perhaps he would have 
 lived to suffer from old age, and you would 
 not like to have known that at last he must 
 have been shot, which is generally the case 
 with dogs that live very long." 
 
 Hilda listened, but could not be consoled, 
 fresh tears came. Do you know, reader, 
 what it is to lose a dog you are attached to ? 
 few have not, and therefore you can under- 
 stand what our little Hilda felt. She thought, 
 with Don's death, all her joy must die too, 
 she never could feel pleasure in anything 
 again ; her dear old dog, her constant com-
 
 218 THE world's furniture. 
 
 panion, gone, and such a horrid death ; she 
 would never see his dear soft brown eyes 
 again, watching her with such love. When- 
 ever Hilda was not quite happy, she went 
 and poured all her grievances into Don's 
 W'illing ear; he never was unkind or cross, a 
 friendly wag always greeted her, she was sure, 
 when out alone with Don, no harm could 
 happen to her. And what should she do 
 now ? 
 
 There was nothing but crying, and it is 
 not surprising if, at four-and-twenty, or four- 
 and-forty, we can weep over the death of a 
 favourite animal, that Hilda, at fourteen, 
 should give way in the same manner. 
 
 "The poor dog must have been too deaf 
 to have heard the train coming," said Sir 
 William, as he came in and joined Lady 
 Fordyce and Hilda, " and, probably, blind, 
 too, poor old fellow." 
 
 " Oh, uncle, he could see," sobbed 
 out Hilda, " for he always saw me coming
 
 THE world's furniture. 219 
 
 at any distance. 1 am sure he was not 
 blind." 
 
 " Then I suppose it was only his ears 
 caused him to have such an end." 
 
 "Where is he ?" Hilda asked. 
 
 " John has just come back, he is lying in 
 the stable. But don't go, Hilda, to see him, 
 the sight can only vex you more. You shall 
 have him buried where you like," said Sir 
 William ; for Hilda made a move to the 
 door as soon as she heard her poor dog was 
 brought back. 
 
 " Come up stairs, dear, and take your 
 habit off," said Lady Fordyce. 
 
 It was some time before Hilda was recon- 
 ciled to her loss ; she misvsed Don almost 
 hourly. It threw a gloom over all her holi- 
 days, and when the day for her return to 
 school came, she felt almost a relief that she 
 should not be every moment reminded of 
 Don when she was away. 
 
 Lady Fordyce w^as to go up to town with
 
 220 THE world's furniture. 
 
 her, as she had promised to stay a fortnight 
 with her dau^jhter, and she was also anxious 
 to see how Mrs. Chichester was. Hilda had 
 gone direct to school ; her aunt left her there 
 before going on to her daughter's house in 
 Hertford Street, May Fair. 
 
 The day following her arrival, she drove 
 to Edward Square. 
 
 Mrs. Chichester v^^as sitting in her little 
 drawing-room. She still wore her weeds, 
 she never meant to leave them off. She 
 looked very ill, but she did not complain ; 
 she never did. She thought it wrong to vex 
 other people with her illness,' and she tried to 
 conceal, as much as possible, all she suffered. 
 But Lady Fordyce was really fond of her 
 sister-in-law, and, to the eyes of those who 
 are really interested in us, it is difficult to 
 hide the truth. But she knew Mrs. Chi- 
 chester's objection to talk of herself, so she 
 determined to find out from Arthur how 
 his mother really was, and if there was
 
 THE world's furniture. 221 
 
 anything he thought she wanted that she 
 could do. 
 
 She, therefore, asked Rose to send Arthur 
 over to her the next day, which was Sunday, 
 as that day was his only free one, at least, 
 during the day-time. 
 
 " I think Mrs. Chichester very ill, Ma- 
 tilda,'' said Lady Fordyce to her daughter, on 
 her return from her visit to Edward Square. 
 
 " You are always fancying something, 
 noamma, about that Mrs. Chichester,*' an- 
 swered Matilda. 
 
 "No, I am sure there is no fancy this 
 time in the matter; but she never complains, 
 and will never tell me anything about herself, 
 so it is really difficult to know what to do 
 for her." 
 
 ** That is the cunning way she has with 
 her," continued Mrs. Phillips, *' she knows 
 she can take you in in that way, and she is 
 quite clever enough to take advantage of 
 your weakness ; for it is w'eakness, the way
 
 222 THE world's furniture. 
 
 you act towards all Sir William's family. 
 You do more for that girl you have with 
 you, than ever you did for me, who am your 
 own child." 
 
 It might almost have been imagined, that 
 she was not her mother's own child, so dif- 
 ferent was she in everything. 
 
 " You are very unjust, Matilda," mildly 
 replied her mother, " very unjust ; I do not 
 remember, from your earliest infancv, ever 
 denying you a request that it was in my 
 power to grant, but there is little use ray 
 talking on these subjects. I never mention 
 the Chichesters, but that I am sure you will 
 say something harsh and uncalled for to me. 
 I have avoided as much as possible your 
 meeting any of them at Burwood, and you 
 yourself told me, you had never even called 
 on Mrs. Chichester, but once when she first 
 came to live in London, so they cannot after 
 all annoy you so very much." 
 
 *' But they do annoy me," said Matilda,
 
 THE world's furniture. 223 
 
 and with that she walked out of the room. 
 Lady Fordyce had never quite understood 
 why Matilda was so bitter against her hus- 
 band's family. She began to think there 
 must be some sort of jealousy mixed up with 
 her feelings, because she never spoke ill- 
 naturedly of the boys, and when Frank went 
 to India, she wrote him a note, and asked 
 him to go and wish her good bye ; and when 
 he went, she gave him a very neat pretty 
 watch as a parting gift. 
 
 There was a strange mixture in her ; her 
 temper had always been bad, but she had not 
 appeared actually ill-natured to any one but 
 Mrs. Chichester and Hilda, and she did not 
 attempt to disguise her dislike to both, or her 
 desire to make her mother think as she did. 
 
 The older Hilda grew, the stronger grew 
 her dislike to her, and if any one spoke of 
 her as pretty or interesting, she could not 
 contain her indignation. Hilda irritated her 
 too, by the perfect unconsciousness she
 
 224 THE world's furniture. 
 
 showed of all the slights Mrs. Phillips made 
 a point of showing her. 
 
 Arthur called ahout three o'clock on Sun- 
 day afternoon ; neither Lady Fordyce, nor her 
 daughter had seen him since his return, they 
 were struck with the great improvement 
 there was in him. His manner was haughty 
 on first going in, but he lost it com- 
 pletely in a few minutes, when he found the 
 reception he met with. He had gone there 
 with the idea that they might perhaps treat 
 him in a patronizing manner, and he was 
 prepared, therefore, to be perfectly distant and 
 cold, so as to allow of nothing of the kind. 
 
 But Lady Fordyce w^as too good hearted 
 for anything of the kind, and Mrs. Phillips 
 was too glad to see such a gentlemanly, 
 handsome young man in her room, and that 
 she could make dangle after her, with the 
 excuse that he was a cousin. We are often 
 very glad to claim relationship with those 
 who have attractions, whether of wealth or
 
 THE world's furniture. 225 
 
 beauty, whichever of the two may most 
 happen to suit; in this case, beauty was 
 certainly the only attraction, but then Mrs. 
 Phillips required no other, and so it was that 
 she gave her cousin a quiet, but apparently 
 warm welcome. 
 
 " You never have been to see me, Arthur," 
 said Matilda, " I suppose my mother being 
 with me, was what I owe my visit to." 
 
 " Lady Fordyce requested I should call 
 this afternoon, when she was at my mother's 
 yesterday," was Arthur's rather cold reply. 
 
 " Yes, Arthur, I was very anxious to see 
 you, for when I saw your mother yesterday, 
 she looked so ill, that I have not been able to 
 get her face out of my mind ; do you think 
 anything is wrong with her ?" 
 
 " I thought my mother very much changed 
 when I saw her for the first time on my re- 
 turn," rephed Arthur, "but I think her 
 better this last week or two ; it is so difficult, 
 however, to find out when anything is the 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 THE world's furniture. 
 
 matter with her, for she seems to dislike so 
 much being asked questions about herself. I 
 often wish poor old Davies was still living, I 
 think she would not have minded him." 
 
 " Who was he ?" asked Mrs. Phillips. 
 
 " He was a medical man, an old Calais friend 
 of my poor father's," answered Arthur, " and 
 since his death, two years ago, my mother 
 will not be persuaded to see anyone. I know 
 he never thought her strong." 
 
 " Don't you think a little change of scene 
 would do her good ? I think if she went to 
 the sea for a few weeks, it might make her 
 look a little more like herself," said Lady 
 Fordyce. 
 
 " Yes," said Arthur, " I think it would, 
 but there are some objections." 
 
 Arthur said this in a sort of tone, which 
 prevented Lady Fordyce asking him what 
 they might be. There was a pause for a few 
 moments, and then Mrs. Phillips asked her 
 cousin if he could not return and dine with
 
 THE world's furniture. 227 
 
 her. He coldly declined, and rose and wished 
 them good morning. It was very evident to 
 Mrs. Phillips, if she wished her cousin to be 
 civil to her, she must be civil to his mother, 
 and this she could not bring herself to 
 be. 
 
 Lady Fordyce thought for some time what 
 the objection could be that Arthur had 
 spoken of, that would prevent his mother 
 going to the sea. Was it money, because 
 she could remedy that evil, or was it that she 
 could not go alone, perhaps if she were too ill 
 to go alone, she might like to go to Burwood. 
 However, she determined to go to-morrow 
 and see what it was. 
 
 She found Mrs. Chichester, on the Mon- 
 day, as she found her on the Saturday. It 
 was easy to discover the cause of her being 
 unable to go to the sea ; she had not the 
 means. So before Lady Fordyce left, she 
 sKpt a twenty pound note into her hand, and 
 received a promise she would leave the middle 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 THE world's furniture. 
 
 or beginning of the week. Lady Fordyce 
 tried to find out what it was she was suffering 
 from. 
 
 " Why not tell me, Rose, it is very foolish 
 of you to be suffering, and say nothing about 
 it, for I am sure you are not well ; you need 
 not shake your head, because I am certain of 
 it, and I will speak out this once, if I never 
 do again." 
 
 " Indeed, you are wrong, I am very well, I 
 don't feel anything but a little weak some- 
 times," replied Rose. 
 
 " But you look ill ; now do let me send 
 Dr. Humphrey to see you, he is such an old 
 friend of mine, that you will feel quite at 
 home with him, and I am certain he will put 
 you to rights at once." 
 
 But Rose was obstinate, she would not see 
 a doctor, she turned off the conversation by 
 asking after her brother, and whether he 
 would come to town soon ; and then she 
 wanted to hear all about poor Don's accident.
 
 229 
 
 because she must write full particulars to Mr. 
 Western, he would be so sorry to hear it. 
 And so it was in vain Lady Fordyce urged 
 it, she could do no more with her, but she 
 would try what Arthur said to it, whether he 
 could not make her alter her mind. Arthur 
 came home soon after his aunt had left. 
 
 His mother's face always brightened up 
 when he came in, for he was all that was 
 left to her now, and so she clung the more 
 to him, and he had become much more 
 gentle and thoughtful towards her of late, 
 since his return to England, and since he 
 had become independent. The bitter feeling 
 that was always rankling within him that he 
 was dependent on his uncle made him 
 sharp and disagreeable at times ; but now he 
 was his own master, he worked for his own 
 bread, and he felt he could add so much 
 to his mother's comfort, it seemed as if 
 suddenly their positions had changed, and 
 he now had to protect and care for her,
 
 230 THE world's furniture. 
 
 instead of her for him ; it was a pleasing 
 sensation to him, and he was proud of it. 
 
 When his aunt asked him why his mo- 
 ther could not go to the sea, he knew he 
 could not afford to give his mother the 
 means, and she could not go without them ; 
 besides he did not like her going alone, 
 and how could he ask for a holiday, when he 
 had not been more than a few weeks at his 
 duties. 
 
 " My dear boy, you look tired," said his 
 mother, as he came in and threw himself on 
 the little sofa that was against the wall 
 facing the windows, he parted his thick 
 jet black hair off his forehead, and looked 
 at his mother for a moment, then said, 
 
 " You look tired, dear mother, lam not, 
 but I am anxious, very anxious." 
 
 **What about, Arthur ?*' 
 
 "About you, mother; you look ill and 
 dragged, and I am sure you are ill ; and I 
 think Lady Fordyce was right in wliat she
 
 THE world's furniture. 231 
 
 said yesterday, that change of scene would 
 do you good. You have fretted at parting 
 with Frank, and you don't let any one join 
 you in your fretting, and I am sure it would 
 help you ; you would not fret half so much 
 if you saw any one equally worried," said 
 Arthur smiling. 
 
 '* You are all very foolish to think so 
 much about me, but very kind, too ; but I 
 want to tell you of your aunt's visit to me 
 just now. She has made me promise to go 
 out of town this week, and in her usual kind 
 manner has given me £20 to go with, so 
 now you see I shall have change of scene 
 and air. But about you, I have been think- 
 ing that I could go somewhere that you 
 could be with me, and that you could come 
 up to town every day ; I think that we might 
 manage that, don't you think so ?" 
 
 " It will shorten the time you would other- 
 wise be able to stop if I do, mother ; but I 
 don't either Hke the idea of your going
 
 232 THE world's furniture. 
 
 alone, we will talk it over this evening. 
 The first thing to settle is where we can 
 
 go." 
 
 The servant walked in, and handed a 
 
 small pink note to Arthur, and said a person 
 waited for an answer. It was such a rare 
 thing for him to receive a letter, that his 
 mother enquired who it was from ; Arthur 
 was still too much the boy not to feel being 
 treated so, or as he thought like a child. 
 He did not like being asked who his note 
 was from, so he did not answer till he had 
 read it and put it in his pocket, and then 
 said, 
 
 " Mrs. Phillips ; she wishes me to dine 
 there this evening, but I shall not go." 
 
 " Oh, do go, Arthur, you will displease 
 your aunt ; and it is very kind of Mrs. 
 Phillips to ask you." 
 
 " Displease my aunt, what has she to be 
 displeased at in the matter ?" said Arthur, 
 his colour mounting up with anger, *' and as
 
 THE world's furniture. 233 
 
 to its being kind of Mrs. Phillips to ask me, 
 why did she not ask you ? I shall not go." 
 He got up from the sofa, and sat down at 
 the table in the middle of the room, took up 
 a pen, opened the blotting book, and began 
 writing. His mother came up to him. 
 
 " Arthur," she said, *' you are no longer a 
 child, you are a man, try and act like one ; take 
 my advice this time, and go dine at your 
 cousin's, don't make her your enemy, my 
 child, for she might prove a bitter one." 
 
 " No, mother, I feel I am right, I will not 
 dine or break bread inside her house till I 
 do so with you with me, but to please you, 
 I will say I will go in the evening after 
 dinner." 
 
 Arthur was hot tempered and obstinate, 
 his mother knew she would do no more by 
 urging it, it was better to let him act his 
 own way than perhaps cause words between 
 themselves, and she could not help feeling 
 he was acting under a right and proper
 
 234 THE world's furniture. 
 
 feeling. He went in the evening. There 
 had been a dinner party, for there were three 
 or four ladies in the drawing-room ; the 
 gentlemen were still down stairs, so he had 
 been invited to fill up a vacant place, to be 
 made use of; how glad he was he had not 
 gone, he even regretted being there at all. 
 
 His cousin was sitting on the sofa, talking 
 to an elderly lady. He thought it right as 
 she was the hostess to go up to her first. 
 He looked very handsome to-night. 
 
 " It was very unkind of you not to dine 
 with us," said Mrs. Phillips, holding out her 
 hand. 
 
 " My mother is so much alone," he re- 
 plied, " that I never leave her when I can be 
 with her, but from necessity." He turned round 
 to look for his aunt, but Mrs. Phillips had 
 not done with him yet. 
 
 " Let me introduce my cousin, Mr. Chi- 
 chester to you, Lady Willesden," she said 
 turning to the old lady by the side of her.
 
 THE world's furniture. 235 
 
 " Arthur, this is a very old friend of mine, 
 and my mother's," Arthur howed, he looked at 
 the lady, he had an idea he had heard the 
 name before, but he could not remember 
 when or where ; she had a charming ex- 
 pression in her face that attracted at once ; 
 she must have been old, more than seventy. 
 She was beautifully dressed, dressed in a 
 manner you seldom see old ladies dressed 
 in now ; she had on a brocaded dress that 
 looked like herself, so stately and good was 
 it, high up to her chin, you could see no 
 wizzened wrinkled throat, all was hidden by 
 something soft and white looking ; the same 
 with her arms, something was over them, 
 you only saw a small white hand, that must 
 have been very pretty, and it was covered 
 with diamond and emerald rings. Her face 
 was equally surrounded by white lace and 
 white ribbon, her smooth braids of silver 
 hair came over her forehead, and you now 
 can see Lady Willesden as I saw her, a
 
 236 THE world's furniture. 
 
 perfect specimen of an English lady. She 
 held out her hand to Arthur, and said in 
 such a clear voice, you could scarcely beUeve 
 it came from the old lady. 
 
 " I must claim acquaintance with you 
 through another channel, for 1 think you 
 must be the son of George Chichester, the 
 old and beloved friend of my nephew, Frank 
 Bingham.'' 
 
 ** I am," said Arthur, accepting her prof- 
 fered hand, and taking a chair that was near 
 the sofa, he sat down near her, " and I 
 thought when Mrs. Phillips mentioned 
 your name, it was not unfamiliar to me ; did 
 you know my father ?" 
 
 " No, if you mean by knowing him, having 
 done so personally, but I have heard so much 
 of him, that I always felt as if he were an 
 old friend. You have another brother, have 
 you not, and a sister ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Arthur, " my brother Frank, 
 who is godson to your nephew Mr. Bing-
 
 THE world's furniture. 237 
 
 ham. He has just gone out to India with 
 his regiment, and my sister Hilda, who has 
 always, since my poor father's death, lived 
 with my uncle and Lady Fordyce." 
 
 " And your mother ?" said Lady Willes- 
 den, hesitatingly. 
 
 " My mother lives at Kensington ; I live 
 with her." Arthur fell a little into his old 
 haughty tone, he could not tell why, had he 
 been asked, perhaps it was the way she 
 asked it in. 
 
 " Would your mother allow me to call on 
 her, Mr. Chichester ? It would give me 
 much pleasure to make her acquaintance, if 
 she will not think it an intrusion." 
 
 " My mother will be proud and happy to 
 see you. Lady Willesden." And Arthur re- 
 lapsed into the cordial tone the expression of 
 Lady Willesden's face first impressed him 
 with. 
 
 " I cannot let you flirt there any longer, 
 Arthur; my sister-in-law. Miss Phillips, is
 
 238 THE world's furniture. 
 
 very anxious to be introduced to you. She 
 has been asking me who that dark, Spanish- 
 looking man is. I won't tell you what else 
 she said, for fear of your becoming con- 
 ceited," said Mrs. Phillips, who waddled up 
 to Arthur. 
 
 Mrs. Phillips had a disagreeable way of 
 laughing all the time she was speaking, 
 probably, to make one think her good-tem- 
 pered. 
 
 Arthur rose as she spoke, but did not 
 seem inclined to do more. 
 
 " I must, if you will allow me," said he, 
 " speak to my aunt, as I have not yet seen 
 her, and then I must make haste home." 
 
 " Does your mamma think you ought not 
 to be out late ?" said Mrs. Phillips, loud 
 enough for every one to have heard it. 
 
 He felt that she meant him to be piqued 
 into remaining ; he determined, however, to 
 go as soon as he had seen Lady Fordyce. 
 
 She was in the back drawing-room, talk-
 
 THE world's furniture. 239 
 
 ing to a tall, fair girl, about eighteen, who 
 was leaning against the piano. She turned 
 round to look at Arthur as he came up to 
 his aunt, and showed a gentle, pretty face. 
 
 Arthur gave an involuntary sort of bow as 
 he had to pass close by her, which she re- 
 turned. 
 
 " I am glad you are come, I gave you up," 
 said Lady Fordyce. " Come and sit down 
 here," and she moved her dress, so as to 
 make room for Arthur by her side. 
 
 He looked up to see if the fair face was 
 still standing opposite to him. He could not 
 sit if she were standing ; but she was gone, 
 so he sat down by his aunt. 
 
 She then told him how shocked she had 
 been at seeing his mother so ill, and though 
 she had promised to go out of town, she so 
 wished Arthur could go too. If Arthur 
 possibly could manage it. 
 
 She knew she could not tell him she was 
 willing to bear the expenses, because he was
 
 240 THE world's furniture. 
 
 too independent to accept her offer ; but if 
 she could only get him to promise, it would 
 be enough, as she would make Hilda give 
 her mother a present, to enable her to make 
 up the difference to Arthur. 
 
 Oh, what a curse money is, or the want 
 of it ! What will we not do to obtain it ? 
 All the crimes that are committed, is not 
 money in every case the cause ? From the 
 unfortunate girl who risks her soul's salva- 
 tion, to the peer's daughter who barters her 
 heart, w^hat is it for ? — Money. 
 
 May God forgive both !
 
 THE world's furniture. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Mrs. Chichester went to Westbourne 
 for three weeks, and Arthur went with her. 
 It did Arthur good, but there was little good 
 to be done for Rose. Change of scene and 
 the fresh sea breezes seemed to renovate her 
 for the time being, but only served to show 
 the change that had taken place in her, when 
 she returned. She was more feeble, more 
 incapable of doing the little duties she still 
 thought she had to perform, and which, no 
 doubt, gave her a kind of pleasure, as she 
 imagined she was still useful. 
 
 When she came, back to town, Hilda came 
 to see her. She never went to see her 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE world's furniture. 
 
 mother at Kensington, but that an uncom- 
 fortable feeling came over her that she was 
 better dressed than her mother, that she 
 drove there in a carriage, and yet her mother 
 had no carriage to drive in ; that she had not 
 a wish ungratified, yet her mother seemed to 
 want many comforts that she had and yet 
 did not care for. 
 
 But she could help her. Once or 
 twice her aunt had given her ten pounds, 
 and told her she was to give it her mother to 
 get any little thing that was wanted for Ar- 
 thur ; she never let Hilda give to her brother, 
 but Mrs. Chichester knew well what it meant, 
 and felt the delicacy of her sister-in-law's way 
 of acting. 
 
 " Why, Hilda, my dear child, you are 
 nearly as tall as I am," said Mrs. Chichester, 
 one day that Hilda went to see her, before 
 she was returning to Bur wood for the holi- 
 days. 
 
 " Well, mamma, I am fifteen and a half,
 
 THE world's furniture. 243 
 
 and 1 shall leave school this time next 
 year/' 
 
 " And I suppose you will be very glad 
 when the time comes ?" rejoined her mother. 
 
 " No, I don't much care ; I am looking 
 to my holidays, because you and Arthur are 
 coming to Burwood for the Christmas week ; 
 and aunt wrote and told me Uncle William 
 has bought me such a beautiful hunter to 
 hunt with, and there are to be lots of people 
 staying in the house. I only hope those 
 horrid Phillips's won't be there !" 
 
 " Why, dear, Mrs. Phillips always seems 
 very kind to you, and Captain Phillips is so 
 little seen at all, that it can scarcely matter 
 whether he is there or not." 
 
 " But it does matter, because I hate him, 
 and I know he hates me, and she is so very 
 disagreeable ; and I know my aunt does not 
 like her, at least she likes her of course, 
 because she is her own daughter ; but she 
 always seems afraid of speaking when she is 
 
 R 2
 
 244 THE world's furniture. 
 
 there, and I know Uncle William can't 
 bear her, because he says it always makes 
 him ill to look at an ugly face, and so I am 
 sure he must be ill the whole time she is* in 
 the house." 
 
 *' Did your aunt tell you who was to be 
 there?" 
 
 *' She told me Lady Willesden and her 
 daughter, and her nephew, Mr. Bingham, 
 dear Frank's godfather; but I don't know 
 anyone else ; oh yes, 1 think she told me that 
 a relation of dear old Mr. Western's was 
 coming on purpose to meet you, but I don't 
 know his name. I am so glad you and 
 Arthur are coming ; how I wish Frank could 
 have been with us too, then we should not 
 have a thing to wish for." 
 
 Her mother looked at her, she could not 
 help enjoying her young fresh feelings, a 
 horse, her mother, and brothers, that seemed 
 the extent of her desires ; oh hovv' long would 
 that suffice ! how long would she be able to
 
 THE world's furniture. 245 
 
 say the same ? Mrs. Chichester remembered, 
 too, that when she had her brother at home 
 from college, she wanted nothing more ; but 
 she remembered, too, how soon something 
 else came, how other feelings seemed to be 
 born in her, how everything sunk into insigni- 
 ficance compared with that new born sensa- 
 tion. She could only pray that her child 
 might be spared what she had suffered, might 
 never know the anguish she had. And why 
 should she ? she was so differently circum- 
 stanced, she had two mothers almost, whereas 
 poor Rose had never known one. Would 
 she not have her aunt's eye always on her ? 
 why then should she ever fall into sorrow, for 
 she would be guarded from it. 
 
 The day after seeing her mother, Hilda 
 went down to Burwood. She felt more 
 pleased at going home this year than she 
 had ever done before. The idea that she 
 was no longer a child had a great charm in 
 it, and she looked older than she was. She
 
 246 THE world's furniture. 
 
 was greatly improving ; she was taller, as tall 
 probably, as she ever would be ; she was of 
 the middle height, but she was slight and 
 graceful, which made her, when not near 
 others, look taller than she really was. Her 
 complexion w^as very clear and dark, with 
 scarcely any colour, excepting when under 
 any excitement, or from exercise ; her mouth 
 was peculiarly pleasing, full lips, and a bright 
 red, and when she smiled, she showed teeth 
 that looked like a row of pearls, they were so 
 white and even. 
 
 Lady Fordyce felt very proud of her, she 
 was what she wished her to be, and Hilda 
 tried to be all she could to her aunt. They 
 were expecting the house to be full the week 
 before Christmas, till over the New Year. 
 The first arrival after Mrs. Chichester and 
 Arthur, was Lord and Lady Willesden ; we 
 know her already, he was a jovial old 
 fashioned county gentleman — they never had 
 travelled by railway yet, and never intended
 
 THE world's furniture. 24? 
 
 to ; they thought it quite unnecessary to risk 
 their lives, as they imagined it was doing, 
 when they had their own comfortable 
 travelling carriage. 
 
 As they drove up, they looked as if they 
 and the carriage had been made for each 
 other, so well they fitted. It took five 
 minutes for them to alight. Arthur was 
 there to offer his arm, he liked old Lady 
 Willesden, and when he liked any one, he 
 could be so very agreeable; and she was 
 pleased with his attention. " It is not often, 
 my dear," she said to his mother, *' that 
 young men think it necessary to be polite to 
 an old woman." 
 
 Hilda was anxious for something more 
 lively to arrive ; the evenings were long and 
 stupid, Arthur had Lady Willesden, his Lord- 
 ship and Sir William had farming conversa- 
 tions, and Lady Fordyce and her mother 
 talked generally of her, which was in no way 
 interesting ; and so it was with joy she heard
 
 248 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Mr. Bingham and his friend were to arrive 
 the next day. She expected to have found 
 both young, but Mr. Bingham was what she 
 considered an old man, he was about forty, 
 middle height, and nothing remarkable to 
 notice in him, but that he was a thorough 
 gentleman. 
 
 Walter Wentworth, his friend and a con- 
 nection of Mr. Western's, was young enough 
 to have been his son. He was but twenty- 
 three, but he looked at least three and thirty ; 
 he was very tall, very slight, but broad, 
 square shoulders ; his hair was very black, 
 and his eyebrows were rather too black 
 and marked ; his forehead high, and his 
 hair grew back from it at the temples ; his 
 eyes were dark deep blue, with full long 
 black lashes; his nose was large and well- 
 shaped ; his mouth was perhaps the hand- 
 somest feature in his face, the lips were full, 
 but it look as if it were chiselled, it was so 
 beautifully shaped, and his teeth were large
 
 THE world's furniture. 249 
 
 white and even. He was a man no one 
 would see without asking who he was. The 
 expression of his face was peculiar, you were 
 not quite sure what his temper might be. 
 
 He walked into the drawing-room behind 
 Mr. Bingham ; no one was in the room, so 
 they had time to look about them, and 
 admire the walls, which were so much more 
 worthy of admiration than any others in 
 the house, for they were free from odious 
 pictures, and were decorated with paper with 
 flower and fresco water-coloured drawings 
 on them. 
 
 " I suppose they are all out," said Mr. 
 Bingham, " but if so they will come and tell 
 us, and we can take a stroll, too.'' 
 
 " It is very cold," answered his friend, 
 ** the inside of the house is the pleasantest." 
 
 Presently the servant came in, and asked 
 the two gentlemen if they would walk into 
 the dining-room and take some luncheon, 
 that Lady Fordyce had just come in, but
 
 250 THE world's furniture. 
 
 had got so wet she was obliged to go up- 
 stairs before seeing them. So they turned 
 their minds to eating and drinking, instead 
 of setting out on an uncomfortable walk, 
 much to Mr. Wentworth's satisfaction. 
 
 Lady Fordyce soon came down, and wel- 
 comed her guests, she knew Mr. Bingham 
 very slightly, and Mr. Wentworth not at 
 all, but she could make any one feel at once 
 that she welcomed them. 
 
 " Mrs Chichester will be so glad you have 
 arrived Mr. Bingham, and Arthur, too, for 
 I really think he would only have come to 
 us for Christmas-day, had he not had the 
 inducement of meeting you." 
 
 " Arthur is a fine fellow," said Mr. Bing- 
 ham, " and I am delighted that our liking is 
 mutual ; is Sir William quite well ?" 
 
 " Oh quite, he is, 1 suppose, in his element 
 at this moment, he and my niece went out 
 with the hounds this morning ; I am anxious 
 for them to be back, for she is riding a new
 
 THE world's furniture. 251 
 
 horse her uncle has made her present of, and 
 I always fear an accident, for she is so care- 
 less, and her uncle encourages her in being 
 so." 
 
 " There is not very good hunting in this 
 part, I believe," said Mr. Wentworth. 
 
 " No, not very near, but a few miles on 
 the other side of Chadwick they have some 
 very good runs, occasionally I beheve, and 
 my husband thinks nothing of riding any 
 distance to cover, if there is a prospect of a 
 good day's sport." 
 
 The party assembled one by one, but 
 there was no prospect of Sir William or Hilda 
 appearing till dinner, for they had returned 
 sound in limb, both horses and riders, but 
 in a most deplorable condition otherwise, 
 mud and rain having done their usual 
 damage. 
 
 " My dear child, what would any one say 
 at seeing you in such a plight," said Lady 
 Fordyce, who had been watching for her
 
 252 THE world's furniture. 
 
 return from her own room window, and 
 then beckoned to her to come up. You have 
 not too much time to dress, and I want you 
 to look nice, for Mr. Bingham has arrived, 
 and he will expect something wonderful in 
 the daughter of his old friend Chichester. 
 I am afraid he will be sadly disappointed," 
 she added smiling, and looking at her as 
 if she thought nothing could be more perfect 
 than her darling Hilda. 
 
 " I am so glad he has come, and is Mr. 
 Western's cousin arrived with him ?" 
 
 ** Yes, they came together, but run and 
 get dressed." 
 
 She was soon ready and ran down into 
 the drawing-room, where she found her 
 brother and Mr. Bingham. 
 
 " Well, Hilda, here you are at last, Mr. 
 Bingham has been asking for you more than 
 once." 
 
 Mr. Bingham went up to her and shook
 
 THE world's furniture. 253' 
 
 hands, and evidently was astonished at some- 
 thing, for he looked so, but he said no- 
 thing. 
 
 " Are vou tired, Hilda ?" said her 
 brother. 
 
 " I am rather," she replied, '* we had a 
 very long day ; I wish Arthur you would come 
 the day after to-morrow with us." 
 
 " I will, little girl, if you are very anxious 
 about it." He stood behind her with a hand 
 on each shoulder ; he always called her little 
 girl, when he felt proud of her, and he 
 thought her looking peculiarly nice this 
 evening. 
 
 " What a daring rider you are, my dear 1 
 I congratulate you on being home without 
 your neck being broken," said old Lady 
 Willesden, who had just come in with Lady 
 Fordyce. 
 
 " I won't have you attempt to put down 
 Hilda's pluck, Lady Willesden," said Sir 
 William, who came in at the door leading
 
 254 THE world's furniture. 
 
 from the library, in time to hear the end of 
 her speech. 
 
 "You need not be afraid, uncle," said 
 Hilda, " it would require the broken neck 
 to make me know what fear is on horseback ; 
 but I am a dreadful coward, nevertheless. 
 Lady Willesden. I often make Strange put 
 a pair of my uncle's big shooting boots out- 
 side my room at night. So that if any 
 thieves should come, they might think there 
 would be a too formidable antagonist inside 
 for them to attempt to come in," 
 
 A general laugh was against Hilda in a 
 moment. 
 
 Mrs. Chichester and old Lord Willesden 
 had joined the others, and Colonel and Mrs. 
 and Miss Fenton were announced. . 
 
 The Fentons were the nearest neighbours 
 the Fordyces had. Colonel Fenton was an 
 agreeable little man, who seemed much in 
 awe of his wife, who, being an Honourable, 
 thought she might give herself great airs,
 
 THE world's furniture. 255 
 
 and had always some relationship or connec- 
 tion with every one whose name could be 
 found in the Peerage. Their only daughter 
 had been educated at the school where Hilda 
 was. She was about four years Hilda's 
 senior. She was not pretty, but ladylike, 
 and had a kind, gentle disposition. 
 
 There was also an only son, who came 
 into the drawing-room about ten minutes 
 after they had. He was not prepossessing ; 
 he was short and square-looking, rather red- 
 dish hair, and a long face. He thought 
 himself tall and handsome. His father and 
 sister were afraid of him ; his mother 
 thought him charming, so like dear Lord 
 Lauderdale, who, poor, dear man, only died 
 last year, and for whom they were still in 
 mourning. It was true he was only a very 
 far-off cousin, but they had been so intimate, 
 so much together, it was like losing a bro- 
 ther. 
 
 All were now assembled but Mr. Went-
 
 256 THE world's furniture. 
 
 worth ; the gong had been certainly loud 
 enough for him to have heard it, but Sir 
 William rung, and desired John to go up 
 and tell him dinner was waiting. He was 
 down in a minute, apologizing for the mis- 
 take he had made, his watch had stopped^ 
 But there was not much time for making or 
 receiving excuses, for they all paired off, and 
 walked into the dining-room. 
 
 Hilda, to her disgust, had to take Mr. 
 Fenton's arm, she disliked him so very 
 much ; but there was no help for it, for Mr. 
 Wentworth had to take Miss Fenton, and 
 Arthur went in by himself. 
 
 At table, she had Mr. Bingham on the 
 other side of her, so she determined to talk 
 to him all the time. Captain Phillips was op- 
 posite to her ; she had scarcely seen him yet, 
 for her back was to the door as he came into 
 the drawing-room. So she thought she 
 could, before talking, take a survey of the 
 whole table, the people, and the dresses.
 
 THE world's furniture. 257 
 
 She had plenty of time for her observations, 
 for unless she talked to Mr. Fenton, it was evi- 
 dent she would have to hold her tongue all din- 
 ner. Mr. Bingham was so engrossed with her 
 mother that she had not a chance to get in a 
 word, so she made up her mind to hold her 
 tongue. 
 
 " So, Miss Hilda, you have been at it 
 again," said Mr. Fenton. 
 
 " At what, pray ?" said Hilda, looking 
 very cross, " I never can understand what 
 you mean. You have so strange a mode of 
 expressing yourself.'* 
 
 *' Why, you ought to understand every- 
 thing now you have been to school ; but I 
 mean simply, for it is not difficult to under- 
 stand as you do but the one thing, that you 
 have been riding across country again." 
 
 " Yes, I have," and Hilda looked as if she 
 thought it did not concern him, and that he 
 need not trouble himself about her or what 
 she did. 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " Did you ride your new horse f* 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Does he suit you ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Doesn't Mrs. Dalton let you make longer 
 answers sometimes?" said Mr. Fenton, with 
 a disagreeable smile, which he meant to be 
 very much the other way. 
 
 " I answer as it suits me, and I wish you 
 would not teaze me any more with stupid 
 questions." 
 
 " You are not amiable to-night, Miss 
 Hilda. What has put you out ?" 
 
 " I am not put out, but I don't feel in- 
 clined to talk, and I wish you would not 
 call me Miss Hilda, for it is very disagree- 
 able" 
 
 " Oh, very well, I will call you Hilda, if 
 you like it better." 
 
 " No, I don't like it better, you ought to 
 call me Miss Chichester." 
 
 Mr. Fenton here broke out into a loud
 
 THE world's furniture. 259 
 
 coarse laugh, which attracted most people's 
 attention. 
 
 " Fred, you must let us all enjoy your 
 joke," said his mother, from the other end of 
 the table ; she never let any opportunity pass 
 of bringing her son's talents forward, as she 
 called them. 
 
 " Well, it is good enough to tell ; I was 
 talking to Miss Hilda here, and she told me 
 she disliked being called Miss Hilda, so I told 
 her I would call her Hilda, if she liked it ; but 
 that does not do, it is Miss Chichester she is 
 to be called," and he again roared out a 
 laugh. 
 
 Poor Hilda all this time felt miserable, she 
 knew every one was looking at her, and 
 would fancy she was pretending to be grown 
 up ; she expected to hear her aunt tell her 
 every moment that she ought not to be so 
 silly, that she was only a child. She felt her 
 colour rising with anger and vexation. 
 
 /' I think my sister perfectly right," said 
 
 s 2
 
 260 THE world's FURNITt3RE. 
 
 Arthur, in a loud decided tone. Hilda looked 
 up, and saw Mr. Wentworth's eyes watching 
 her ; it made her feel doubly shy, but there 
 was an expression in them that rather in- 
 clined her to think he approved. The relief 
 of Arthur's words gave her courage, and she 
 looked gratefully at him. 
 
 " What a foolish child," said Mrs. Fenton, 
 " she is not old enough to dine at table," it 
 was supposed to be in a whisper to her 
 neighbour, but loud enough for all present to 
 have heard it, as she intended they should. 
 She thought her son conferred a great honour 
 on Hilda, talking to her at all. 
 
 Hilda had, however, gained her end by 
 this little occurrence, for Martyn Fenton did 
 not speak to her again during dinner, and Mr. 
 Bingham did. She was glad, however, when 
 it was over ; it was the first time she had 
 dined when anyone had been there, and she 
 thought Mr. Bingham and Mr. Wentvvorth, 
 must think her nothing but a foolish school
 
 THE world's furniture. 261 
 
 girl. When the ladies were all in the draw- 
 ing-room, Hilda and Mary Fenton sat on a 
 settee in the furthest drawing-room. 
 
 " I wish, Mary, you would ask your brother 
 not to speak as he does to me ; I know he 
 does not mean to vex me, but I am foolish 
 enough to let it do so." 
 
 '* Indeed, Hilda, it would be no use for 
 me to speak to him, he would only tell me to 
 hold my tongue, and not interfere with him ; 
 but he admires you so much, that I am sure 
 he does not mean it. Who is that gentle- 
 man who took me into dinner ?" 
 
 " Oh, he is a cousin, or some kind of dis- 
 tant relation to a very dear old friend of my 
 mother's, and he came down here with Mr. 
 Bingham, who is a friend of his, and you 
 know Mr. Bingham is my brother Frank's 
 godfather." 
 
 " Yes," said Mary Fenton, rather abstract- 
 edly ; " he is very handsome, but I think he 
 is sarcastic."
 
 262 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " Dear me, I should never have called him 
 handsome; he seems a kind-hearted, good 
 man, and very gentlemanly, and I shall like 
 him because of his kindness to Arthur, and 
 also because he was a great friend of my 
 father's.'' 
 
 " My dear Hilda, who in the world are you 
 talking of, he told me he had never seen your 
 brother before to-day ?" 
 
 " I am talking of Mr. Bingham ; and you ?" 
 
 " Of Mr. Wentworth." 
 
 " What are you saying of Mr. Went- 
 worth, Mary?" said the Honourable Mrs. 
 Fenton, coming into the drawing-room where 
 the two young girls were sitting, with all the 
 airs of a duchess. 
 
 "Nothing, mamma," said Mary, feeling 
 very much afraid of her mother, and colouring 
 at the question. 
 
 " Nothing ! I hate being answered * no- 
 thing,' when I ask a question ; it must have 
 been something."
 
 THE world's furniture. 263 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Fen ton, it was I who was 
 supposed to be talking of Mr. Wentworth, 
 whereas I was speaking of Mr. Bingham, so 
 you see it was * nothing,' as we were not 
 talking of him at all." 
 
 Hilda had no fear of Mrs. Fenton, or any 
 one else, and therefore it was that she was no 
 favourite with Mrs. Fenton, as she thought her 
 a forward young lady, and was always cau- 
 tioning her daughter against imitating that 
 bold Miss Chichester. She liked people to 
 be in aw^e of her ; it was quite right that 
 people whose names could not be found in 
 the Peerage should have great respect for 
 those who could. 
 
 " Do you sing, Miss Chichester ?'* said a 
 voice close behind Hilda, she started round 
 and saw Mr. Wentworth sitting on the 
 vacant seat on the settee between her and 
 Mary Fenton, and he was leaning over to- 
 wards her. She coloured up, without know- 
 ing why, and answered, " No, I do nothing
 
 264 THE world's furniture. 
 
 that is in any way useful in a drawing- 
 
 room." 
 
 " She does sing, and play too," said Mary 
 Fenton, in a quiet voice. 
 
 " Who sings, and who plays ?" said Sir 
 William Fordyce, coming up to them. 
 
 "Why, Wentworth does to perfection," 
 chimed in Mr. Bingham. 
 
 " Do you ?" said Sir William, lookiD^ at 
 him as if he were a marvel in nature. It is 
 so difficult for a hunting man, a man who 
 thinks of nothing but his stables and kennels, 
 to understand how a being like himself 
 should sit at a piano and sing ; he only 
 thought of men doing such things on the 
 stage, he could not respect a man who could 
 sing ; but it was very evident that he was 
 quite single in his views, for all now pressed 
 forward to beg for a song. 
 
 Mr. Wentworth, who really did sing very 
 beautifully, felt as most good singers do, that 
 it is bad taste to require pressing, and so he
 
 THE world's furniture. 265 
 
 sat down to the piano and sang a French 
 song, one of those simple little songs that 
 speak to the heart at once, " Le lilac blanc." 
 
 Hilda really loved music ; she had never 
 heard any good amateur singer before, and so 
 she sat as if entranced, gazing at him, as if 
 in wonder how such sweet thrilling tones 
 could be produced by the human voice ; but 
 as soon as it ceased, he jumped up, and turn- 
 ing round to her said, " You will not refuse 
 now. Miss Chichester. Lady Fordyce, have 
 you influence to make your niece sing ?" 
 
 " Don't ask me," she said in such a plead- 
 ing tone, and looking up at him with her 
 large lovely eyes, that at night always looked 
 a deep blue, that he could not resist them, 
 and did not ask again. She slipped away 
 into the next room, it was empty for all had 
 crowded round the piano. 
 
 She now heard Miss Fenton singing; she 
 wondered how she could summon up courage 
 to sing before Mr. Wentworth, there was
 
 266 THE world's furniture. 
 
 something that rather frightened her when he 
 was near her, and she was glad to get 
 away. 
 
 " What are you here for, little girl ?'* said 
 Arthur who came in after Mary's song to 
 look for his sister. 
 
 " I don't know, Arthur, I think I am tired ; 
 if the Fentons were not here I would slip 
 off to bed, but I think my aunt would not 
 like it." 
 
 Mrs. Chichester saw her two children 
 together, so she went and sat down by them ; 
 she had been looking so well lately that 
 Hilda thought her mother had quite re- 
 covered, and there was no need for anxiety. 
 She was fond of her mother, but though she 
 did not perhaps herself know it, she loved 
 her aunt the best, and it was natural it 
 should be so, it would have been ungrateful 
 of her had she not. 
 
 Two days after, in the morning at break- 
 fast, Lady Fordyce said that Mrs. Fenton
 
 THE world's furniture. 267 
 
 had written to say she hoped some of the party 
 would go over there to-day and see the 
 hounds meet, as it was seldom they met so 
 near, and she would be very glad if they 
 would lunch at Hawthorn Hill. 
 
 " Who means to go with Hilda and me ?" 
 said Sir William. 
 
 " Are you going to hunt again, Hilda, on 
 that horse ?" said Mrs. Chichester. 
 
 " Of course she is," said Sir William, not 
 giving her time to answer for herself, " and 
 don't talk stuff about that horse, it is the 
 most splendid animal in the field, and carries 
 her beautifully, come and see her on him ; 
 it's worth any money to see such a picture as 
 they make." 
 
 Lady Fordyce knew she had better say 
 nothing, that Sir William was quite deter- 
 mined about Hilda going, though she did 
 not quite like the idea either. 
 
 " Well, who will go with us, Arthur will,"
 
 268 THE world's furniture. 
 
 said Hilda, " for he promised me, didn't you 
 Arthur ?" . 
 
 " I should be very glad to go if you 
 like," said Arthur, " does Miss Fenton 
 hunt ?" 
 
 '*No, Mrs. Fenton, thinks it very 
 unbecoming in a lady to hunt." 
 
 " There's a reflection on you. Lady For- 
 dyce," said Mr. Bingham. 
 
 " Well, I am not quite sure that I quite 
 like it," said Lady Fordyce, " but I have 
 had nothing to do with it, her uncle has 
 entirely concluded that part of her education." 
 
 " Don't talk trash, Mary, a woman who 
 can't hunt isn't worth her salt ; will you go 
 too, Wentworth." 
 
 " If you will trust such a cockney as I 
 am on one of your horses," said Mr. Went- 
 worth. 
 
 " Oh yes, you shall take your choice ; well 
 are there any more volunteers ? What do you 
 say, Bingham?"
 
 THE world's furniture. 269 
 
 "No, thank you, I am contented to keep 
 my bones as nature placed them, and not 
 tempt Providence ; but if the ladies go to 
 the meet only, I shall be very happy to 
 escort them." 
 
 '* Will you drive with us Lady Willes- 
 den ?" asked Lady Fordyce. 
 
 "Well, I think, my dear, I am too old 
 for such active scenes, I will stay quietly at 
 home and look through that new bundle of 
 books from Mudie's that I saw in the hall as 
 I came down. What a luxury the existence 
 of Mudie is? I think he deserves a statue 
 being raised in his honour.'' 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I think he does ; but 
 those who appreciate him most, are people 
 like ourselves, who live in the country. Lady 
 Willesden you must drive with us to 
 Hawthorn Hill, you will like to see their 
 garden, I daresay you wont care for the meet ; 
 so. Rose, you and I will go with Mr. Bingham 
 soberly in the carriage, and leave those young
 
 270 THE world's furniture. 
 
 people with Sir William at their head to 
 break their neck if they like.*' 
 
 "What a pleasant prospect you seem 
 to have in view for us, dear aunt," 
 said Hilda, *' you know you would break 
 your heart if I broke my neck," she added 
 smiling. 
 
 " Yes, my darling, I believe I should," and 
 Lady Fordyce looked at her as if the very 
 thought was too dreadful. But no necks 
 were broken, or anything else, all returned 
 safely, and quite contented with their day. 
 Hilda came back with the brush, and there- 
 fore Sir WilHam was in high good humour. 
 
 Lady Fordyce would not have any great 
 dinners, or more gaiety in any way than 
 she could help, on Hilda's account ; she 
 was still too young for it, and she feared 
 what proved to be the result, that Hilda 
 would not rejoice in the thought of return- 
 ing to school. She had tasted, though in a 
 very moderate degree, the pleasure of admi-
 
 THE world's furniture. 271 
 
 ration ; she, for the first time, began to 
 wish herself pretty, she never thought her- 
 self so, never cared to be so, but now she 
 did. She longed to have done with school 
 and everything that had to do with child- 
 hood. She was at the age, that longs to 
 be older, to escape from all that could be 
 looked on as childish. 
 
 Her aunt, who always watched her closely, 
 saw all this, and felt, when too late, she had 
 done wrong in not having quite kept her in 
 the school-room till she had done with it. But 
 if she had wished it. Sir William would not 
 have let her, and a girl nearly sixteen, 
 cannot be treated as a child of six. There 
 was no help now, and there was but a few 
 days more before she was to go back to 
 Mrs. Dalton's. The Willesdens had left, 
 and Mr. Bingham, Mr. Wentworth, Mrs. 
 Chichester, and Arthur only remained, and 
 they were to stay to take Hilda up to town 
 wuth them.
 
 272 THE world's furniture, 
 
 " Oh aunt, I hate going away, I don't 
 think I shall learn more, or do any more 
 good at school, let this be the last time of 
 my going — a year is such an immense time 
 to wait. 
 
 " It seems a long time to you, Hilda, but it 
 soon passes ; look back to this time last 
 year, it has passed quickly, has it not ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Hilda, drawing the word 
 
 out very slowly, " but I wish this one were 
 
 >t 
 
 over. 
 
 ** What do you want over ?" said Sir 
 William, standing at the door and looking 
 in. 
 
 " This year, uncle ?" 
 
 "What for, pray?" 
 
 " Because," but Hilda hesitated a mo- 
 ment, and then looked at her aunt, who 
 was watching her anxiously. Lady Fordyce 
 knew if Hilda once told her uncle the 
 reason, there would be an end to her going 
 back at all ; Hilda knew this, too, and it was
 
 THE world's furniture. 273 
 
 for that reason she stopped, and looked at 
 her aunt. There was too much of affection 
 there for her not to feel she would be un- 
 grateful were she in any way to go counter 
 to her wishes, so she turned it off with, 
 " because I am a foolish girl, and winter is 
 no sooner with us than T want summer, and 
 when summer comes I want winter." 
 
 " Umph," growled Sir William, " you were 
 not so anxious for summer when you were 
 out with me yesterday," and away he 
 walked. 
 
 "You are a good girl, Hilda," said her 
 aunt, " and you know I only act for your own 
 advantage ; were 1 to do as I wish, I should 
 not let you go back at all, but that would 
 be sacrificing you for my own gratification. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 274 THE WORLD'S FUEiMTURE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Lady Fordyce was quite right, the year 
 passed very quickly, and Hilda once more 
 was expected home for her Christmas 
 holidays, but this time they were to last, 
 for she was to bid farewell to her school 
 altogether, as she was now coming home 
 for good. 
 
 She was to have two rooms fitted up 
 for herself, her bed-room, and a little boudoir 
 next to it. Her aunt was very busy for 
 the fortnight before her return, having them 
 finished for her. She knew Hilda's taste 
 so well, she thought she should not fail
 
 THE world's furniture. 275 
 
 to please her. Her bed-room was simply 
 but prettily furnished, the kind of room 
 one would expect to see belonging to a 
 young English girl. But in the boudoir, 
 Lady Fordyce spared no expence or trouble. 
 It was a small room, the windows looking 
 into the garden — that view was not very 
 pretty, but beyond, the scene was hilly, 
 wild, and wooded. 
 
 The room was papered with white, and 
 Lady Fordyce had managed to pick out 
 one or two pictures that were a little better 
 than the rest — a few she had bought herself 
 during some of their continental tours, and 
 hung up on the walls. The carpet was 
 soft and thick, you could not hear anyone 
 move on it. A pretty piano stood against 
 the wall facing the fire-place ; a small round 
 table, with books, prints, and every de- 
 scription of nick-nack covering it ; a 
 writing-table in front of one of the windows, 
 with a massive oak ink-stand, and every- 
 
 T 2
 
 276 THE world's furniture. 
 
 thing to match ; a pretty sofa across the 
 room, and three or four fancy chairs ; a 
 carved oak book-case, and cabinet fitted 
 up with endless drawers, and little cupboards, 
 lined throughout with red velvet, and shelves 
 filled with specimens of Dresden and Sevres 
 china. A beautiful clock, with other orna- 
 menrs on the mantel-piece, completed the 
 furniture of the little sitting-room. 
 
 When all was finished, Lady Fordyce 
 walked round the rooms and thought whether 
 there was anything else she could possibly 
 think of to please Hilda; but it looked 
 perfect to her eyes, and she called her 
 husband to come and see whether he could 
 find anything wanting : 
 
 " My dear, it seems to me that it only 
 wants a stable to be built in the next room 
 for Hilda to have Spitfire in, and then she 
 won't want anything ; 1 daresay she would 
 be glad enough if she could have had that
 
 THE world's furniture. 277 
 
 great dog of hers on the rug, I don't think 
 she got over that for a long time." 
 
 "No, she was wonderfully fond of him, 
 I never spoke about him for fear of dis- 
 tressing her. So you don't see anything 
 wanting, Sir William." 
 
 "Nothing but herself, and the sooner 
 she comes the better." 
 
 Lady Fordyce smiled, she was always 
 glad when he appeared to show any desire 
 for Hilda to be home. She knew at one 
 time he did not like her living with them, 
 but that was long ago, and now, though 
 he would not admit it, he was almost as 
 fond of her as his wife. 
 
 She changed the whole aspect of the 
 house when she came back, there was life 
 in it immediately ; the heavy dreariness was 
 exchanged for activity and cheerfulness^ 
 Hilda's voice was heard singing about the 
 house or grounds at all hours. 
 
 She had quite lost the sedate look and
 
 278 THE world's furniture. 
 
 manner she had before she went to school. 
 She came back now nearly seventeen, after 
 four years constantly being with those of 
 her own age. Her last year had done her 
 perhaps more good than the three previous 
 ones, for she had had her eyes more open 
 to her own defects, and she tried hard to 
 overcome them. Her anxiety was great to 
 be able to conquer her shyness. She had 
 felt how painful it was, and how awkward 
 it must have made her look, and now that 
 she was grown up, and no longer the excuse 
 of childhood, she was determined to conquer 
 it, and she did. There is nothing like a 
 firm will, it surmounts every difficulty. 
 
 The Phillips' were to bring Hilda down, 
 as they were to pass two or three weeks 
 at Burwood this Christmas, Hilda had never 
 told her aunt that she actually disliked 
 Mrs. Phillips ; but Lady Fordyce knew quite 
 well it was so, and it was only from necessity 
 that she arranged for her to escort her down.
 
 THE WORLD S FURNITURE. 279 
 
 She always rather dreaded their being to- 
 gether, and there was no hope of Captain 
 Phillips being much of a peace medium 
 between them. He followed in his wife's 
 wake in regard to Sir William's family, 
 those she was rude to and disliked, he treated 
 in the same manner. It was about the 
 only thing they did agree in, for their own 
 household was anything but a harmonious 
 one; they had different tastes, and different 
 feelings, and yet they were both noted for 
 one thing that they did resemble each other 
 in, and that was being the plainest couple 
 it was possible to meet. Time had not 
 helped to improve her, she had grown 
 coarser, and lost the only charm nature 
 ever granted — that was youth ; she was now 
 well on the wrong side of thirty, and with 
 youth she lost the little pleasure she seemed 
 formerly to take in dress; but with all that 
 she still considered herself beautiful, and 
 that all who crossed her path envied Captain
 
 280 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Phillips. I am not so sure that Captain 
 Phillips would not have been generous had 
 it been in his power, and resigned all in 
 favour of the first comer. 
 
 The first three weeks after Hilda's return 
 to Burwood, did not promise to be so happy 
 as she had anticipated, Matilda's presence 
 threw a constrained feeling on all. Lady 
 Fordyce feared showing too much affection 
 to Hilda, and, on the other hand, she 
 would not for all the Matildas in existence 
 have let Hilda feel or think she was not 
 quite as dear to her as ever. Sir William 
 liked talking of his horses, and disliked smok- 
 ing. Captain Phillips did not know a horse 
 from a mule, and never had a cigar out of his 
 mouth if he could help it ; but Sir William 
 would not allow smoking in the house, and 
 at Christmas time it is not always the most 
 comfortable way of spending one's days, by 
 passing them out of doors. Sir William, 
 besides, disliked an ugly woman, it was
 
 THE world's furniture. 281 
 
 disagreeable to him and spoilt his appetite 
 to see Mrs. Phillips opposite to him, with 
 her flat face like a white negress ; and he 
 had no means of relieving himself by ex- 
 pressing his dislike. He could not tell his 
 wife that her only child was so painfully 
 ugly that it quite disagreed with him ; he 
 would not tell Hilda because he thought it 
 w^ould wrong and encourage her in the 
 dislike he knew she already felt, and, after 
 all, though it might have relieved him, it 
 could have done no good. 
 
 But Hilda was the * most to be pitied, 
 during the Phillips' visit, for she could not 
 always control her indignation when Matilda 
 spoke about her aunt. She did not know 
 what it could matter to her cousin, whether 
 her aunt was kind or unkind to her ; but it 
 invariably happened if Hilda expressed a 
 wish, and it was gratified, that her aunt 
 had a shower of ill-natured remarks poured 
 upon her.
 
 282 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Mrs. Phillips never could be at Burwood, 
 unless the house was to be full, and the Bur- 
 wood party were always glad to gratify her, 
 because the more there were, the less were 
 they obliged to be constantly together. There 
 was to be therefore, as many guests invited 
 as there were rooms to hold them. Mrs. 
 Chichester was not to be there this Christ- 
 mas, for two reasons — the one that the 
 Phillips' were there, and it would only have 
 helped to make matters worse than they need 
 be ; the other, that Mrs. Chichester was not 
 very well, and did not care to be there dur- 
 ing so much gaiety. Arthur would not leave 
 her, though all had been anxious for him to 
 go down ; a young man is always a welcome 
 guest, especially when he is very handsome, 
 and very fascinating. 
 
 Hilda was so delighted with her little 
 boudoir, that it was rarely she was anywhere 
 else when in the house. She felt so happy at 
 being able to slip away from that odious
 
 THE world's furniture. 283 
 
 Matilda, and go where no one dare naolest 
 her ; for Hilda determined her room should 
 be her castle, and no one was admitted but 
 by invitation, or by making a special request. 
 
 Mrs. and Miss Fenton called a day or two 
 after the Phillips' arrived, they were in the 
 drawing-room with Lady Fordyce and Mrs. 
 Phillips, to ask them to dinner on the follow- 
 ing Monday. 
 
 *' We are far too large a party," said Lady 
 Fordyce, " my daughter and her husband 
 will be very happy to accept your invitation, 
 but you must excuse the rest of us ; and it 
 would be impossible, too, as I have some 
 friends coming on Saturday." 
 
 " Who have you coming ?'* said Mrs. Fen- 
 ton, it having been her chief reason for call- 
 ing, to find out if any one was expected at 
 Burwood, and if so, who. 
 
 ** Some relations of Sir William's — Mr. and 
 Mrs. Graham, and their son ; they are 
 coming up from Scotland to pass the winter
 
 284 THE world's furniture. 
 
 and season in town, and are coming to us for 
 a few days first." 
 
 " Where is Hilda, mamma ?'' said Matilda, 
 who had been talking to Mary Fenton, " I 
 think she ought to be taught that when 
 visitors call, it is her duty to come in, espe- 
 cially when it is a young friend of her 
 own." 
 
 " Hilda does not know we are here, Mrs. 
 Phillips, I am sure," said Mary in a quiet shy 
 way, as if she were afraid of her mother hear- 
 ing her speak. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Mary," said Mrs. 
 Fenton in a harsh voice. 
 
 " I am sure Hilda does not know you are 
 here, Mary, or she would have come directly ; 
 will you ring the bell for me, and I will send 
 for her." 
 
 Mary got up to ring the bell, but before 
 doing so, said, " May I go and look for her 
 myself, Lady Fordyce ; do you think she is 
 out in the garden, or in the house ?"
 
 THE world's furniture. 285 
 
 ** Do, dear, go, I think you will find her in 
 her own room ; do you know the way ? 
 When you are at the top of the stairs, you 
 turn to the left, and it is the second door 
 opposite to you ; knock, Mary," Lady For- 
 dyce called after her, as she was crossing the 
 hall ; *' she has a great idea of keeping her 
 room quite to herself." 
 
 " My mother really ruins that girl," said 
 Mrs. Phillips to Mrs. Fenton, as her mother 
 was speaking to Mary Fenton. " She gives 
 herself such airs, she is quite unbearable. 
 What a pity it is, because a girl in her posi- 
 tion ought to feel that she is only a depend- 
 ant." 
 
 *' Who is only a dependant ?" said Lady 
 Fordyce, who heard the last words ; and she 
 looked at her daughter, and then at Mrs. 
 Fenton, in a way that made them feel they 
 had better not say who it was, if they wished 
 to keep on good terms with her. 
 
 Mrs. Fenton was only speaking of some
 
 286 THE world's furniture. 
 
 one she knows," answered Matilda, after a 
 pause, for she gave Mrs. Fenton quite time 
 to answer for herself. Lady Fordyce thought 
 it best to let the matter drop. She knew 
 who they were talking of, but it was far 
 better that they should not admit it. 
 
 Mary Fenton made her way up-stairs, and 
 found the room; she knocked as she had 
 been directed. 
 
 " Come in,*' said Hilda, from within, and 
 Mary opened the door. " Oh, it's you, Mary, 
 I am so glad to see you, have you just 
 come ? 
 
 " About a quarter of an hour ago, but I 
 did not like to ask for you, till Mrs. Phillips 
 asked where you were, and I asked your aunt 
 if I might come and look for you ; so she 
 told me where I should find you, and I was 
 to be sure and knock. But what iniquities 
 do you perpetrate here, Hilda, in this perfect 
 little place, that mortals may not break in 
 upon ?"
 
 THE world's furniture. 287 
 
 " Why, not any just yet," answered Hilda, 
 laughing, " but the truth is, I feel it such a 
 comfort to know I can be alone here if I 
 like, without any one coming in if I don't like 
 it. But I must show you all my treasures. 
 Was it not kind of my dear, good aunt, to 
 give me such a surprise on coming home ? I 
 found all ready, and everything I can pos- 
 sibly want, my bed-room is next to it, and I 
 feel so happy at being ' monarch of all I sur- 
 vey' in there and here." 
 
 " Mamma came to ask you over to dinner 
 on Monday ; but only Captain and Mrs. 
 Phillips are coming, I believe, because you 
 have visitors arriving on Saturday." 
 
 " Yes, they are relatives of my mother's ; 
 Mr. Graham was my grandfather's second 
 cousin, and they are coming to live for some 
 months in London, but come here first." 
 
 ** Do you expect your brother ?" 
 
 " Poor mamma is not well, and wont come, 
 and Arthur does not like leaving her ; but
 
 288 THE world's furniture. 
 
 perhaps next month they may come together, 
 if she feels a little stronger." 
 
 " You are going to be very gay, are you 
 not?" 
 
 " My aunt wishes to have a few parties 
 whilst her daughter is here ; but this sort of 
 weather it is impossible to be what 1 call gay ; 
 and then when the spring comes, we shall be 
 obliged to be in town, for 1 am to be pre- 
 sented." 
 
 " How I envy you," said Mary, very dole- 
 fully ; " you have everything in the world you 
 can possibly have ; your aunt, who loves you 
 more than if you were her own child ; your 
 uncle, who thinks there is not another Hilda 
 Chichester in the world, and can't go out 
 without you ; your owm mother, who is so 
 gentle and kind, and your tw^o brothers, that 
 idolize you — how- happy you ought to be." 
 
 " And so I am, Mary, so happy, I don't 
 think anything could make me happier. 1 
 often wish dear Frank was at home but he
 
 THE world's furniture. 289 
 
 writes such cheerful letters, and seems so 
 contented with his life, that it is selfish in 
 me to wish even that ; but beyond that I 
 have not a wish in the world. But why 
 should you envy me, Mary? you have a 
 father to whom you are all the world." 
 
 " Yes," said Mary, with a sigh, " papa loves 
 me very much, I believe; but, Hilda, it 
 grieves me sometimes so dreadfully to see 
 how mamma and Frederick treat him. He is 
 quite a cipher in the house, he is afraid of 
 giving a order, for fear it should be counter- 
 ordered by mamma immediately after ; if he 
 expresses an opinion, it is either laughed at, 
 or sneered at by Frederick ; and as far as I 
 am myself concerned, you know how every- 
 thing is as well as I do." 
 
 " Yes, indeed," answered Hilda, " and I 
 often admire your power of endurance, I am 
 afraid I could not so calmly and quietly bear 
 what you do. You must marry, Mary/' Hilda 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 THE world's furniture. 
 
 added smiling, " you are nearly twenty-one 
 and I suppose that is not too young." 
 
 Mary coloured up, " I dont think I shall 
 marry," she said. 
 
 Mrs. Phillips walked in, and said, " Miss 
 Fenton, your mamma is waiting for you, I 
 really think, Hilda, you might have had the 
 civility to have come down." 
 
 " I will come now," said Hilda, " and, 
 Matilda, I must tell you this is my fortress, and 
 no entrance is obtained, but by very special re- 
 quests, commencing by knocking at the door.'' 
 
 "Then I shall do no such thing," said 
 Matilda very angrily, " I shall come in when 
 I choose, and I shall certainly neither request 
 admittance or ask to obtain it," 
 
 " Very well," said Hilda, " then I shall 
 be obliged to lock myself in my castle." 
 
 "You are exceedingly impertinent," said 
 Mrs. Phillips, reddening very visibly, even 
 through the gamboge looking skin, "you 
 have to learn how to keep your proper place."
 
 THE world's furniture. 291 
 
 Hilda felt getting very angry, but for her 
 aunt's sake she made no reply ; but by a 
 look, she spoke volumes in it, and notwith- 
 standing Mrs. Phillips' short sightedness, I 
 doubt whether she did not see it. 
 
 When they came into the drawing-room, 
 Lady Fordyce in a moment saw by Hilda's 
 face that something had annoyed her, and 
 she determined to see what it was ; and if, 
 as she thought, Matilda was the cause, she 
 would summon up courage enough at once 
 to put an end to it ; for as Hilda's home was 
 at Burwood, and Matilda's was not, she 
 could not let her annoy her any more, it 
 should be clearly understood. 
 
 " You have been sitting too long over the 
 fire, my dear Hilda," said her aunt. 
 
 " Walk home with us, Hilda," said Mrs. 
 Fenton, ** you will just have time before 
 luncheon, or what will be better still, stay and 
 lunch with us, and I will drive you home 
 afterwards." 
 
 u 2
 
 292 THE world's furniture. 
 
 Hilda never particularly liked the visit 
 to Hawthorn Hill, but her aunt added, " Do 
 dear, it will do you good, run up and put 
 your things on." Lady Fordyce was not 
 sorry to get her out of the way during the 
 afternoon, she would thus get her talk with 
 Matilda over, and get the matter off her mind. 
 
 Hilda ran up stairs and put on her garden 
 cloak and hat, and came down in a minute ; 
 she had lost the look of anger that was on 
 her face when she first came down, and very 
 pretty she looked in her hat. Mrs. Fenton 
 was very angry with her daughter for not 
 being pretty, she seemed to fancy it was 
 Mary's own fault, or at least to speak to 
 her as if she thought so. 
 
 The three went off, and left Lady For- 
 dyce and Matilda alone, Lady Fordyce thought 
 she could wait till after luncheon to speak to 
 her, it would be better than beginning the 
 moment they were gone ; and after all, she 
 was not certain that Matilda had said any-
 
 THE world's furniture. 293 
 
 thing to annoy her niece. But luckily for 
 Hilda, Mrs. Phillips was too indignant with 
 her, not to complain instantly to her mother. 
 " Really, mamma, you make that girl quite 
 insupportable, I told you what she would 
 be. I told you how she would presume when 
 she was old enough, and you see I am right, 
 that she actually told me, your daughter, 
 that unless I knocked at the door when I 
 went to her room, she should lock it, for no 
 one should go in without knocking.'' Lady 
 Fordce wished so Matilda would vary the 
 tone of her voice a little, it was so very 
 difficult to understand her meaning always ; 
 and she never made any stop, all she said 
 went on as it were in one breath, and one 
 tone, but being fairly started off in the dis- 
 cussion whether she would or no, Lady For- 
 dyce wisely determined to put an end to 
 any further altercations between them ; so 
 she screwed up her courage to the highest 
 point and began.
 
 294 THE world's furniture. 
 
 " It is well, Matilda, at once that we should 
 clearly understand one another with regard 
 to Hilda. You see it is impossible that 
 there should be constant disputes going on 
 between you and her, when you are staying 
 here ; this is her home, and her own uncle's 
 house, therefore she has a far greater claim 
 to be here, than were she my niece ; but 
 setting any right she may have altogether 
 aside, it is Sir William's wish and mine that 
 she should not only have her home with us, 
 but feel it to be her home ; and I cannot and 
 will not let any one belonging to me so treat 
 her or so speak of her, as to let her think 
 for one moment that her position is uncer- 
 tain. She is, and will be looked on by all 
 friends as our adopted child, and as such 
 must she be treated by all who visit in this 
 house. Perhaps it is foolish, her wishing to 
 keep her rooms quite to herself ; but I am 
 not quite sure in the end it will not be a 
 better plan than if any one might go in and
 
 THE world's furniture. 295 
 
 out as they would here ; for if one might go 
 in at all times, it would quite do away with 
 the idea I had when 1 gave her that room, 
 which was that she could read and write 
 and go on with any amusement or study she 
 liked without interruption." 
 
 " You will some day bitterly repent of all 
 this folly," said Matilda, " Tom says, ' still 
 waters run deep,' and so you will see what 
 this quiet demure young lady will turn out." 
 
 "I don't suppose," answered Lady For- 
 dyce, " that Tom is the first man who has 
 made unkind remarks without a cause, but 
 as I do not care to hear them, do not repeat 
 them to me." 
 
 Matilda was like all the people who have 
 the misfortune to be mean spirited, they are 
 cowards at heart ; and it only required a 
 little sharp speaking to cow her in a mo- 
 ment. She had never seen her mother so 
 quietly determined in her manner, and 
 so she had always taken advantage of her 
 usual pliancy of character to render her mo-
 
 296 THE world's furniture. 
 
 ther submissive to her will, rather than en- 
 tail words and ill-natured remarks. 
 
 It was very well Lady Fordyce had for 
 once asserted her authority, for it saved 
 Hilda many disagreeables. It was bad 
 enough as it was, for Matilda and her long 
 lanky husband treated her as if she were 
 something beneath them, but there were 
 no words that could be laid to their charge — 
 they were clever enough for that. 
 
 Lady Fordyce spoke to Hilda, too, and 
 urged upon her for her and her uncle's sake 
 to bear and forbear with Tom and Matilda, 
 that it would not be for long, or often ; but 
 when they did stay there, to try and be on as 
 friendly terms as possible. Hilda promised 
 her aunt to do all in her power to improve in 
 her cousin's good books ; and she determined, 
 as much as lay in her power, to keep out of 
 her cousin's way. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 ^^