LI B RARY OF THE UNIVERSITY Of ILLI NOIS 823 U97Z5c Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/caughtintrapnove13hutc ST. GEORGE'S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE. UNDER THE IMMEDIATE PATRONAGE OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS TECK. The Rt. Hon. the Countess Spencer. The Rt. Hon. the Countess Denbigh. The Rt. Hon. Lady Isabella Schuster. The Rt. Hon. Lady Caroline Stirling. The Rt. Hon. Lady Elizabeth Bulteel. The Rt. Hon. Lady Henniker. The Rt. Hon. Mrs. Pletdell Bouverie. The Hon. Mrs. Elliot. The Rt. Hon. the Countess Lichfield. The Rt. Hon. Lady Louisa Legge. The Rt. Hon. Lady Caroline Pratt. The Rt. Hon. Lady Charlotte Clinton. The Rt. Hon. Lady Trlmleston. Lady Hervey Bruce The Hon. Mrs. Cradock. Mrs. Edward Baring, and Madame Van de Weyer. Mr. and Mrs. RICHARD BLAGROVE (assisted by eminent artistes), will give a SERIES OF SIX CONCERTS, AT THE ABOVE HALL, OUST THUESDAY EVENINGS, JANUARY 27th. FEBRUARY 24th. MARCH 24th. APRIL 28th. MAY 26th. JUNE 30th. 1870. PIANOFORTE :— Mrs. RICHARD BLAGROVE (Miss Freeth). Treble and Baritone Concertinas and Solo Viola : Mr. RICHARD BLAGROVE. — Bailways, postages— in a word, all the numerous facilities of the age— have almost annihilated distance, and, as a natural result, caused an individual trade between country customers and London establishments. Those who do not visit town, so as to select aud purchase directly, send for patterns from which they can give their orders. But as all apparent advantages on the one hand have more or less their corresponding drawbacks, so this system is not without its bane. Pushing tradesmen make a market by offering goods at lower rates than they can possibly be sold at to realise a fair profit. The bait traps the unreflective, and the result is that the receipts en masse are not equal to the tempting samples. There is no new inven- tion in this ; it has been practised in wholesale merchandise and by candidates for contracts, as the proverb hath it, since there were hills and valleys. But we grieve to add it is sometimes resorted to by those whom one would credit for more integrity. Ladies, therefore, need exercise caution, and place confidence only in houses of old- established fame, for rapidly-made businesses are not generally reli- able. And to what does this assertion amount more than to the fact that nothing great can be effected not only without labour but with- out time, and that Borne was not built, as the old saying says, in a day ? Messrs. Jay, of Begent-street, whose name is well known amongst the few on the list of bond fide establishments in the metro- polis, have adopted a plan for assisting country ladies in choosing for themselves London fashions and fabrics And their customers may rest assured that they will thus be enabled to obtain goods of every quality, both low and high priced, at the most reasonable terms— that is, the terms of small profits for quick returns — and that they may firmly rely upon the thoroughly corresponding charactei of samples and supplies. — From the Court Journal. WHISPERS IN THE DARK. tymftht in a Qfyrp* A NOVEL. IN THREE VOLUMES JOHN C. HUTCHESON, Author of " The Pettyshams," &c. VOL. I. Uottfcott: T. CAUTLET NEWBT, PUBLISHED, 30, WELBECK STEEET, CAYENDISH SQUARE. 1870 [all eights reserved.] ^8£"5 CONTENTS OF FIRST VOLUME, Chap. Page. I. — Amongst the Plungers 1 II. — The Sussex Dowager 24 ] III.— The Fish and the Hook 45 IV.— -Miss Kingscott 61 y._ Counting the Cost 80 x VI. — Concerning certain Young Persons 101 Vn.— Sowing the Wind , 125 VIII.—- Damon and Pythias 143 11 CONTENTS. Chap. Page IX. — An Old Campaigner ... 162 X. — A Call and its Consequences 182 XI.— Des Beaux Teux 202 XH.— The Beginning of the End ... 220 XIII.— Brother and Sister 240 XIV.— That Young Imp ! 252 XV.— End of "First Act" 270 CAUGHT IN A TRAP CHAPTER I. AMONGST THE PLUNGERS. " Hullo ! Markworth. How lucky ! Why you ara just the man I want; you're ubi- quitous, who'd have thought of seeing you in town ?" said Tom Hartshorne, of the — th Dragoons, cheerily, as he sauntered late one summer afternoon into a private billiard - room in Oxford-street, where a tall, dark- complexioned, and strikingly-handsome man, VOL. I. B 2 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. was knocking the balls about in his shirt- i sleeves, and trying all sorts of fancy shots against the cushions — The sole occupant of the room was he, with the exception of the marker, who was looking on iu a desultory sort of way at the strokes of the player from his throne- like chair underneath the scoring board. " Hullo ! Tom, by all that's holy ! And what brings you to Babylon ? I left Boulogne last week, and ran up to see what the ' boys' were after ; so here I am, quite at your service. What can I do for you, Tom ? Are you hard up, in a row, or run away with your neigh- bour's wife? Unbosom yourself, caro mio." " No, I'm all right, old chap ; but nothing could be better. By Jove ! it's the very thing r "Who? Why? What? Enlighten me, Tom:' CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 3 " Well, you see, Markworth, I've got to go down to-morrow for 1117 annual week to my mother's place in Sussex. It will be so awfully slow; just fancy, old chap, a whole week in that dreary old country house, with no com- pany, no shooting, no fishing, no anything ! Why, it's enough to kill a fellow P 4t Poor Torn," observed Markworth, sym- pathisingly. u Yes ; but that's not the worst either, old chap. My mother is very cranky, you know, and the house itself is as dull as ditch-water. You have to go to bed and get up by clock- work ; and if one should be late at dinner, or in turning in, why, it is thought more of by the ruling powers ;than the worst sin in the decalogue. Besides, I have to keep straight and humour the old lady — for I am quite dependent on her until I come of age ; B 2 4 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. and, though she's very fond of me in her sort of way, she cuts up rough sometimes, and would stop supplies in a moment if I should offend her." " Dutiful infant ! I pity your sorrows, Tom ; but what can I do to help you ?" " I'm just coming to that ; but we may as well have a game by the way, while we're talking." 44 Certainly ; how many points shall I give you? The usual number, eh? Score up, fifteen to spot, marker," he said, turning to the little man, who, with a face of dull impassiveness, was sitting bolt upright, like Neptune with his trident, holding the billiard-rest in a perpendicular position, ap- parently hearing nothing, although his eyes twinkled every now and then. " You lead, Tom, of course." CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 5 " All right, here goes ; but, to return to what we were speaking about. You can help me very much, Markworth." 11 Can I ? That's a good cannon, you mustn't play all through like that, Tom, or you'll beat me easily ; but, go on, and tell me what you want." " Ha ! yes — you see I've got one saving clause in my predicament. My mother says I may bring some one down with me, and I don't know who the deuce to take — for any of our fellows would ruin me in half a day with the old lady, by talking slang, or flirting with the maids, or something else." " And you want me to go and victimise myself for a week ? Much obliged, I'm sure." a Nonsense, Markworth. By Jove ! that's a ripping hazard in the middle pocket ; you've 6 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. got the red in baulk, too, and the game's all in your hands. You are really the only fellow I'd ask, and it would be a perfect god- send to have you. It won't be so dull for the two of us together, and I'm sure you'll be able to pull me out of many a scrape with the old lady, for she's just your sort, and you can tackle her like one o'clock ; only talk to her about the ' Ologies ' old country families, and the peerage, and you'll be all right. She never speaks of anything else. Besides, there's a Miss Kingscott down there — a gover- ness, or companion, or something of the sort to my sister — whom I've never yet seen, as she only came there this year. I daresay you can make love to her." 14 Thank you, especially after the warning about the maids !" " But you'll come, won't you ?" CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 7 44 1 can't promise, Tom. There, that stroke ends the game ; let's finish billiards : they're too slow. What are you going to do to-night, Tom?' , 44 A lot of us are going to have a quiet little dinner party at Lane's. The old colonel has been awfully jolly, and let away nearly the whole squad on leave together. Will you come ? There'll be Harrowby, Miles — in fact all the boys. We'll have lansquenette afterwards, and then you and I can talk over about running down to the country. Do come, there's a good fellow," 44 Well, I will ; what time do you dine ?" " Sharp seven; so don't be late.'' 44 I'll be there. Ta-ta, now, for I've got a lot of letters to write. I'm stopping at the 4 Tavistock • by the way, in case I don't turn up and you want to find me.'' 8 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. They had emerged from the billiard-room, and now stood in the street. " But you must come, I shall expect you and will take no excuse. I'm going to call on some jolly girls whom I met at the Woolwich hop last night. So good-bye till seven — sharp, mind !" " All right," answered the other, as Tom Hartshorne hailed a hansom, and was quickly whirled off to his destination in Bruton Street, where the Miss Inskips, two pretty and fast young ladies of the period, dwelt with their mamma, a widowed dame. Allynne Mark worth was not so much a type, as a specimen, of a curious class of men con- stantly to be met with in London society, and of whom society knows next to nothing. No one knew where he came from, who were his progenitors, or what he did* and yet he CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 9 suffered in no respect from this self-same ignorance of the world around him, in which he lived and moved and had his being, as any other of its more regular units. He always dressed well, lived well, and seemed to have a fair share of the loaves and fishes which Providence often so unequally bestows. Having the entree of good houses, he knew u everybody/' and everybody knew him ; but if you asked any of the men who knew him, and were constantly meeting him about, who Markworth was, the general answer you would get would be, " Ton my soul, I don't know." Perhaps Tom Harts- horne knew more about him and was more in- timate with him than anyone else, but even he had long ceased to puzzle his budding brains over any analysis of his friend : he was a u good fellow," and " a clever fellow, b 5 10 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. by Jove/' and that was enough for him. Tom, however, never dreamt of calling Mark- worth by his Christian name, and no one else could have approached that phase of inti- macy. To tell the truth Allynne Markworth lived by his wits. He was a Chevalier <$ Industrie in a certain sense of the term, although in a slightly more moral degree; and ran the race set before him by preying on the weaknesses, follies, and ignorances of human nature in the abstract, as evinced amongst his fellows in the concrete. He was a good billiard player, and knew as well when to hide his play as " any other man." Many a stray sovereign did he pick up in lives after pool at Phillipps', even when he could not get a bet on, which he was never loth to take. The Hanover Square Club ac- CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 11 knowledged his supremacy at whist, and happy was he who was his partner when guinea points were the rule. Being a good judge of horseflesh, he of course kept a book on the principal events of the year: rare in M hedging" he was seldom known to come out a, loser. With all these little strings to his bow, it is no wonder that Markworth managed to get along pretty comfortably ; and although he toiled not nor yet did he spin, I much ques- tion whether King Solomon if clad en regie to the nineteenth century would have been better dressed, taking Poole as a criterion. Add to this that Allynne Markworth was a well-bred, handsome man of thirty to thirty-five — although his right age would have been rather hard to discover — and had a certain plausibility of manner which prevented one 12 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. at first from noticing; the somewhat sinister expression about his eyes and mouth ; and the surprising thing would have been that he did not get on. Generally he had plenty of money ; and when he had not he absented himself from society until his coffers were replenished in some secret way or other. At this time, however, he had been for some months undergoing a run of ill-luck. The year had opened badly by the failure of a bubble company in which he was deeply in- terested ; then, again, men were fighting shy of him at billiards, and it cost him more work for a sovereign than it was worth, and guinea points at whist were becoming rare events even amongst the most reckless habitues of the club ; to climax his misfortunes, he had made a very losing book on the Derby, and although he paid it up — for to be a defaulter CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 13 would have ruined him in his set — he had to leave London early in the season in conse- quence of not having the where-withal to prosecute the war. When he had gone away at the end of May he told Tom Hartshorne that he would be de- tained away on the continent on business for months; and yet here he was back again before the end of July. The fact was he came back money-hunting, and was so pressed now that he hardly knew where to turn. He had made up his mind that unless he married a fortune, discovered a gold mine, or tumbled into some wonderful luck, that his "little game," as he expressed it, would be " all up." He was glad to meet Tom Hartshorne so very oportunely at the present juncture, for he thought that he might be put in the way of some plan for changing events — and at the 14 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. worst a little good card playing in the evening might place him in the position of being able " to look about him." Punctually at seven o'clock he showed him- self up at Lane's Hotel, where some half-a- dozen men of Tom's regiment were assembled in a cosy little room upstairs, well lighted, and with snow-white-cloth-covered -table, all duly prepared and laid out for the contem- plated feast. Dragoon officers or " Plungers " — indeed, all cavalry men — are pretty much alike, and unlike the remainder of the Army List. The mild, u gushing '' comet, dashing " sub," and massive captain, full-fledged and silky as to hair and drooping moustache — not forgetting general apathy of expression — of one troop, or regiment, resemble those of another, even as the proverbial u two peas ;" and it would CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 15 sorely tax one's powers of diagnosis to dis- criminate between the members of a party like those assembled for the present M quiet little dinner, you know." Tom Hartshorne— no one who ever spoke two words with him could call him anything else but li Tom " — was the only exception to this rule ; the others were all men of a class, " classy," without any distinctive individuality. He, however, was of a different stamp. Of middle-height, thick-set, fair-haired, and open face— Saxon all over— his was the native mould, thorough British metal, that makes our strong and plucky athletes of the Isis and the Cam, who struggle each year for acquatic supre- macy, like the strong Gyas fortisque Cloanihus of Virgil's iEnead-— that long line of heroes celebrated for every deed of daring, from Richard the a Lion-hearted " down to the last 16 CAUGHT IN A TKAP. gallant recipient of the Victoria Cross : men of which stamp, thank God, live yet among us! A thorough gentleman, his nature was as open as the clay, which you could readily see for yourself by one glance into his truthful face, and clear blue eyes, although perhaps concealed partly by that slight upper-crust or veneer of egotism and affectation, which generally hides the better qualities of young men on first en- tering into life, and just released from their " mother's apron string " and the trammels of home and school. Tom Hartshorne was little more than nine- teen, and it was a wonder, with his bringing up, that he was what he was ; but nothing could altogether taint the sterling stuff of which he was composed. He was one who could pass through the lighter follies of CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 17 military life unscathed, and only wanted some strong impetus, some ardent motive to bring him out in his true colours. Tom Hartshorne had made the acquaintance of Markworth about a year previous to the meeting with which the story opens — in fact just after he had been gazetted to his cornetcy, and had taken to him at once — and Markworth had apparently taken to him, a sort of chemical affinity of opposing forces. It may be thought strange that natures so dissimilar should agree, but so it was. The Latin proverb is often curiously wrong ; instead of similes similibus curantur, the prsefix dis should be added, and then the axiom would be complete. When Tom first met Mark- worth, who had received an invitation to the mess of the — th, he was struck with him, and on introduction came to like him greatly, 18 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. for he was so clever, so agreeable, so different to the men he had previously met that he could not fail to be impressed ; you always find young men take to a man of the world, particularly if he be like such a man as Markworth was. The little dinner at Lane's passed off well, and the young Plungers enjoyed themselves to their heart's core, now that they were not under the jaundiced eye of their stern major, who envied them all their strong digestions and perfect livers ; and, it is to be feared, they drank a little more champagne than was good for some of them. At the table Mark- worth was placed alongside a brother sub of Tom's, who was most communicative over his wine, talking in a low confidential voice with his elder companion, whom he wished to convince of his u manishness," of horses, CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 19 dogs, and women, as befitted a noble young soldier. During a pause in the conversation Mark- worth thought he might gain some informa- tion, and having an opportunity of putting in a word, asked — "By the way, do you know any of Tom's people ?" u Know them ? By Jove ! yes. Catch me there again, that's all !" "Why — how — what's the matter?" asked Markworth. "I though everybody liked Tom ?" " So they do ; he's a brick. But Tom ain't his mother and his sister." " Certainly not," answered the other, agreeing with the indisputable fact ; " but what of them ?" " Well, the fact is Tom asked me down 20 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. there last Christmas, and I never spent such a time in my life. They are very well con- nected, but see no people at all. The mother is a regular Tartar. There is also a sort of half idiot sister older than Tom. She has a pile of money left her, by the way ; not a bad chance for any one in search of an heiress, who doesn't care about beauty and brains, and that sort of thing ! ' ' "The devil she has?" u Yes, by Jove ! a regular pot of money ; twenty thou* or more, I'm told. There's no elder son and nobody else, so Tom will in- herit all the property when the old lady hooks it. There you have the family. I stopped with them two days, but it nearly killed me. Men of the world like us, you know, can't stand that sort of thing. Of course I had to plead regimental business, and CAUGHT IN A TEAP. 21 get away. I remember the old lady — a re- gular she cat by Jove ! — saying that she hoped my mamma— curse her impudence — would teach me better manners before she let me go out again. Did you ever hear of such a thing?" " Ha ! ha ! ha ! a pleasant old lady, Har- rowby ; 1 do not wonder at your dignity being hurt. I must look out for her if I ever tackle her." u What, are you thinking of going down ? Take my advice, don't : you'll be sick of it." " Yes, I may. Tom asked me, and per- haps I'll see some fun," responded Markworth — and there the conversation dropped. Later on, when he wished Tom Hartshorne " good-night,' 7 in reply to his repeated invita- tion, he promised to go. "And we'll start on Friday/' said Tom, 22 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. gleefully ; u that will be the day after to- morrow, you know." u All right, I'm your man. Call for me at the 4 Tavistock' at twelve, and we can start as soon after as you like. ,, "Done. That will just give us time to catch the 2.30 train. Good-night, old fel- low!" And they parted. The next morning Mr. Allynne Mark worth took a solitary walk citywards. After pass- ing through Temple Bar and the then — un- desolated — Fleet Street, he ascended the hill of Ludgate; and turning into a thin row of straggling and seedy old buildings, found himself within the precincts of Doctor's Com- mons, sacred to the archives of marriage- one cannot always say love — and death ! Here, having previously invested the sum CAUGHT IN A TKAP. 23 of one shilling in current coin of the realm, he received permission to examine the M Last will and testament of one Koger Hartshorne, deceased, of the county of Sussex, gentleman, ,, the perusal of which document appeared to give him much internal satisfaction. His task did not take him long, and he was soon retracing his steps. On the day after he went down to Sussex, as agreed, with Tom Hartshorne. 24 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. CHAPTER II. THE SUSSEX DOWAGER. Only a simple, and yet special name and appellation — "Mrs. Hartshorne, " The Poplars." That is all. Nothing much in the name certainly, at first sight, nor yet such a very extraordinary address, either in the nomenclature of the CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 25 mansion, or in its surroundings ; but the two taken together were something entirely out of the common. Mrs. Hartshorne by herself, or the Poplars, considered merely as a resi- dence, were neither of them grand or startling phenomena ; but one could not well do with- out the other, and the dual in unity formed a complete and unique integrity. In other words, "Mrs. Hartshorne, of the Poplars/' was an " institution " in the land, to quote an Americanism, although neither a thing of beauty nor a joy for ever. She was a vara avis in terris, a millionaire Hecate, a rich and slightly-over- middle-aged eccentric, a Xan- tipical Croesus— no less a personage, in fact, than the u Sussex Dowager.'' Far and wide throughout this county — over a considerable portion of which she owned manorial rights of vassalage, and ruled YOL. I. C 26 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. with sovereign sway in the matter of leases and titheholds and rackrents — amongst the lesser farmers and villagers she was known by this title ; although, it must be confessed, her more intimate dependents and rustic neighbours dubbed her by far less elegant sobriquets. Any one meeting her about the country lanes, where she was to be found at all hours, would have taken Mrs. Hartshorne to be a shabby little dried-up, poor old woman. She always dressed in dark grey garments of ante- diluvian cut, somewhat brown and rusty from age and wear. Her bonnet was a marvellous specimen of the hideous old coal-scuttle form used by our grandmothers. She always car- ried a reticule of similar date, which, by her demeanour when emporticg it, might have contained a hundred death-warrants, CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 27 or keys of dungeons — if she had lived some three centuries or so ago : a bulgy umbrella in all weathers, wet or line : thick shoes of rough country make : dark woollen gloves; and no veil to disguise the thin sharp features and piercing bead- like black eyes, over-hung with bushy grey eyebrows, and the wrinkled forehead above, covered with scanty white locks, braided puritanically on each side, and there you have Mrs. Hartshorne. She was not a handsome old woman, nor a prepossessing old woman, nor would her face impress you as being either benevolent or pious ; but shrewdness, cleverness, and hard- ness of set purpose, were ingrained in every line of its expression ; and in truth — she was a hard, shrewd, clever old woman. A quarter of a century seems a somewhat long time to look back, but twenty-five years c 2 28 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. ago Mrs. Hartshorne was a young and hand- some woman. Time had not dealt kindly with her as he does to some : none would dream of calling hers a graceful or a winning old age. She seemed to wrestle with the Destroyer, instead of ignoring his approach as most of us do, and quietly and placidly submitting to his encroachments. The result was not to her advantage. Every line on her face, every crow's-foot in the corners of her twinkling little eyes, every wrinkle on her careworn brow, every silvery hair on her head, marked the issue of some unsuccessful struggle; and the strong passions of her nature, even as they had embittered her life, seemed now, when her youth was passed, to war with death. She had a quick way of speaking, running her words and sentences into one another, so CAUGHT IN A TEAP. 29 that they resembled one of those compound, Dutch jaw-breaking words that occupy several lines in extent, and almost fill up a paragraph. Her temper was not a sweet one. It might suit 4C namby pamby," milk-and-water, bread- and-butter girls — a hussies, ,, she would have called them — to mince their words and mode- rate their utterances ; but she, " thank God, was none of those !" She said what she meant, sharp and straight to the point, and did not care what any one thought about it. Her voice, mode of speech, and general manner, resembled the barking of a wiry little Scotch terrier, and terrified most with whom she had any dealings. a Good Lord ! M as old Doctor Jolly, the most hearty, jovial, loud and cheery- voiced of country surgeons — the only visitor who had entrance within her gates, and who used at fixed intervals to beard the lioness in 30 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. her den — used to say; "but she has a tem- per. I would not be her husband, or her son, or her daughter for something! God bless my soul ! sir, but she could hold a candle to the devil himself/' And so she could, and hold her own, too ! Old Eoger Hartshorne — the u squire" — had married her late in life some twenty-five years sgo, and brought her home to the Poplars in all state and ceremony as befitted the lady of so great a landowner. The old squire was a very good-natured, liberal sort of man, whose only amusement was in following the harriers — there were no hounds and scarlet- coated foxhunters in those parts —and he was gene- rally liked throughout the county, for he kept a sort of open house, and was hail-fellow-well- met with everyone ; but when he married — and no one knew where he picked up his wife, CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 31 people said that she married him — all this was changed. A new regime was instituted, and the sporting breakfasts, and hunting dinners, and open-house festivities at the Poplars became as a thing of the past. Mrs. Hartshorne said she would not have any such " scandalous goings on " in her house : she wasn't going to be " eaten out of house and home." Every expense of the manage was cut down. Instead of some seven or eight grooms and gardeners and domestic servants, only three were retained — an old woman to mind the house, an old butler, whom the squire insisted on keeping, and a groom and gardener, who combined both situations in one. When the children came — a girl and a boy — the squire thought things would be altered ; but they were not. Mrs. Hartshorne said they must save, and pinch and pinch more now 32 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. for them — although goodness knows the estate was rich enough ; and shortly after the birth of Tom, the old squire died, worn out it was said by the temper and treatment of his wife. It was, perhaps, a happy release to Eoger of that Ilk, for the poor old gentleman had been sadly changed since his marriage, and used to look a piteous spectacle when he took his solitary rides around the village lanes on his old cob, the sole relict of his handsome stud which he had been proudly fond of displaying across country. With the death of the squire, Mrs. Harts- horne became more saving and pinching, and miserly than ever. The first thing she did was to dismiss the old butler, who had been in the family for some forty years, saying she u could not afford to support a lazy, useless pauper ;" the next was to tell the bailiff and CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 33 estate agent that their services were no longer required, for " she would have no curious eyes prying into her property, and telling every- one how much she was worth." The house was almost shut up and buried in seclusion, and no one but Doctor Jolly ever went there. He said he a would not be denied by any woman in creation," and although the M dowager," as she now came to be termed, used to put on her most vinegar-like expres- sion for him, and address him in the snappiest and most provoking and insulting manner, he would call at the Poplars at least once a month in obedience to the promise he had given to the old squire on his death-bed to " look after his poor children." It must be said that Mrs. Hartshorne tolerated the doctor in a sort of way — her way ; and if she liked anyone, liked him who was a favourite with the whole c 5 34 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. county round. She had said to him when he first used to come, that she supposed he " came there because he might charge for his visits, and get something by it ;" but when she found this was not the case, and that Doctor Jolly had no base intentions towards her money bags, she tolerated him, and allowed him to come and go as he pleased, without bestowing on him more than her customary amount of sweet temper. When Tom grew old enough he was sent to school, only coming home for one week every year by express stipulation with the proprietor of the school ! and when he became eighteen, at his earnest wish, and after continual wranglings with the old lady — who was passionately fond of him, although at the same time possessing an inordinate affec- tion for money — he was allowed to go into CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 35 the army. His mother said that he would " ruin her " when she gave an order on her banker to the doctor, who was Tom's guar- dian, for the sum required for his commission and outfit, but she did not behave illiberally, and gave master Tom a very fair allowance, satisfying her conscience by raising all the rents of her poorer tenants, and grinding down the household expenses more than ever. Of Tom she was not only fond but proud : it was the only one womanly trait in her cha- racter; and although she was not a very motherly kind of woman, and did not display her affection in the manner customary to the feminine sex — ruling her household, even Tom, with a rod of iron and a stern sense of duty — yet her son was very much attached to her, notwithstanding he did not exhibit any strong partiality for visiting her. He knew that the 36 CAUGHT IN A TEAP. less he saw of her the better: they both understood each other well. The daughter, however, Mrs. Hartshorne hated and disliked in the strongest manner possible. She grew up uncared for, except as regarded frequent and summary corrections for childish misdemeanours ; and if it had not been for the boy Tom she would have been altogether neglected. Little Susan was an eyesore to her mother in consequence of her being the only one provided for in Roger Hartshorne 's will independently of the mother, to whom all the rest of the property, except- ing of course the entail, was bequeathed without reservation. Mrs. Hartshorne con- sidered her own child as a species of inter- loper or invader of her rights, and treated her accordingly with neglect and almost cruelty when the squire was no longer able to CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 37 look after and protect her. The very fond- ness of the old man for his little girl had been even an additional incentive for her illtreat- ment. When Susan had reached her fifteenth year — she was little more than a year older than Tom — the dislike of her mother cul- minated in an accident, which indeed might be characterised in worse terms, that some- what checked the illtreatment and harshness she had previously suffered. She had done some trifling thing or other one day which had offended her mother to fury, and she con- sequently, after beating her most unmercifully , had locked her up all one night in a solitary part of the house by herself. The little thing was of a very nervous, tender organization ; and the fright she suffered in the lonely dark- ness throughout the long hours of the night drove away her poor little wits. When the 38 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. child was let out the next day she was in a raging fever, and when she recovered from that, thanks to old Doctor Jolly (who was un- remitting in his care, after frightening the mother by declaring her to be almost a mur- deress), she was never herself again. She re- mained quietly passive under any or every treatment of the mother " half silly," as the poor folks say, and half silly she was now still, although she was almost one-and-twenty. Her mental disorder was of a pathetic descrip- tion — a sort of melancholia, and although her mother had procured governesses for her, and she knew, like a parrot, as much as most girls of her age in the matter of education, she never exhibited any likes or dislikes, or pre- ferences, except for music, of which she was passionately fond : everything else that was taught her she learnt in a machine-like way. CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 39 Susan would spend hours each day, particu- larly in the evening, playing on an old chamber-organ, which occupied one of the disused rooms of the house, wild, wierd, melancholy melodies which appeared to soothe her, and give her the only sense of enjoyment she seemed to possess. Tom and Doctor Jolly were the only people she cared to see ; her mother she disliked greatly, and had a sort of trembling fit whenever she came across her or passed her in the passages of the house ; and the old female domestics she barely tole- rated, although she liked old George, a simple, uneducated Sussex countryman (the county is great for its u chaw-bacons"), who now did all the odd jobs and outdoor work about the house since the establishment had been re- duced. 40 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. Mrs. Hartshorne always had a governess or special person to look after Susan, and sbe was careful to put down all the expenses of the said individual to be charged against and deducted from the portion which her daughter was to inherit in accordance with the terms of the squire's will. These governesses were always being changed, for few persons, even those who have taught themselves to submit, as gover- nesses have to teach themselves, could long bear with the temper of the dowager. A new face was consequently ever coming and going within the narrow range of Susan Hartshorne's horizon. Doctor Jolly used to say that perhaps some sudden shock of grief or joy might restore the poor girl to the full possession of her senses. CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 41 u But then," he would remark, " I don't know- how that is going to happen, unless the old lady kicks the bucket.'' Thus was Mrs. Hartshorne placed, and it must be owned that a skeleton such as she had in her closet would not tend to sweeten her disposition. Hard and stern she was with all around her. She was her own farm agent, her own bailiff, her own man of business. If she had been entirely alone she would pro- bably have had not a soul in the house with her, not even a domestic. She collected her own rents, and was never forgetful of a farth- ing owed to her. When the leases granted by the squire expired she would not let them be renewed, but kept her tenants under fear and trembling, with only a year's certainty of possession of their homes ; and she waxed rich, did the dowager, and had by this time a 42 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. goodly pile of ready money at her bankers'. This was all for Tom, and, faith ! the young sir would have a splendid inheritance when the dowager departed for the happy hunting grounds. The squire's property, before the advent of Mrs. Hartshorne, had been worth some ten thousand a year. It was now worth nearly half as much again, and the savings of the yearly income amounted to more than a hundred thousand pounds. " A very com- fortable little sum of ready money, sir !" as the doctor would say. The residence of the dowager was situated about a mile from the picturesque little village of Hartwood, which boasted not only of a special little station to itself on the S. C. Rail, but also of its own little church, quite inde- pendent of the sacred episcopal edifice general to the parish under whose jurisdiction it came. CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 43 The dowager owned the church as well as the village, and the right of presentation be- ing in her gift, she had recently inducted the most extreme Eitualistic divine she could pro- cure into the pulpit of Hart wood, just purely out of opposition to the rector of the district, whom she disliked, and who was supposed to be of strong evangelical principles. The Poplars — there can be no mistake in saying it — was an extremely ugly house. Its architecture was neither Gothic nor Norman, Elizabethan or Tudor; it was an hetero- geneous pile of stones and brickwork, scram- bled together without any style or design. Inside it was comfortable enough, and roomy and rambling; without it seemed nothing but a collection of eaves and chimneys, and its sole redeeming point consisted in the lofty and spreading poplar trees which surrounded 44 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. it on all sides, as well as gave it its name, and concealed its native ugliness from strangers and passers-by. There you have "The Poplars" and its mistress. CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 45 CHAPTER III. THE FISH AND THE HOOK. " Het — wood !" shouted the guard vehe- mently, as the train in which Tom Hartshorne and Markworth had left London drew up at a little wayside station, closely adjoining Hart- wood village, the spire of whose church could be seen near at hand, amidst a group of lofty elm trees which surrounded it — and " Het — wood! Het— wood! Het— wood!" burst a 46 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. tribe of porters and railway men, after that official, chorusing in full cry to a musical accompaniment of door-slammings and steam- escapements. "Here we are at last," ejaculated Tom, poking his head out of the window of one of the carriages as soon as they fairly stopped. "Are we? Then the Lord be praised ! Beastly long journey. More than two hours for only sixty or seventy miles !" responded his companion, stepping on to the platform, where they and their luggage were quickly deposited — the only arrivals for the little vil- lage — while the iron horse again grunted and puffed on its toilsome way with its string of cattle pens behind it. u Good day, sir/' said the station-master, touching his hat respectfully to Tom ; " do you want a trap, sir ?" CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 47 " No, thanks, we'll walk over ; but will you send up our things for us, Murphy ?' ' " Certainly, sir; one of the men shall go at once with them. Here, Peter ! shoulder them there bags, and follow Mister Hartshorne up t'ouse." " It's much jollier to walk, Markworth," remarked Tom, as they left the station, and he led the way over a stile into a little by- path across a field ; " it's a lovely afternoon, and we'll get there in half the time we should if we drove by the road." u All right, my boy, I'm agreeable," answered Markworth. So they sauntered on, walking in a narrow foot-wide track, through acres of gleaming green fields of oats and wheat, with their wavy motion, like the sea, and their rustling tops, one of the railway porters following 48 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. closely behind them, weighed down appa- rently by two heavy travelling-bags he car- ried, although, probably, he thought them but a trifle. A pleasant walk it was on a fine summer day. Presently Mark worth could see a gaunt, grim stone wall in front of them, with a mass of tall, melancholy-looking, waving poplar trees behind it, all in a clump together. " There's the place," said Tom ! " we'll be there in no time. We can go through that side-door," pointing to a small gateway cut through the wall. " You must not mind, old chap, what my mother says, you know, at first. I told you she was a queer fellow, you know, and she will seem rough to you at first." 41 1 shan't mind, bless you, Tom — I oughtn't CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 49 to be afraid of any woman at my time of life, my hearty." In another minute they had arrived at the small door they had been making for, and Tom rang the bell with a sonorous peal. After waiting about a quarter of an hour, and ringing some three times, the gate was at length opened by George, the Dowager's " man of all work," an honest, tall, beaming- looking countryman, who stood at the entrance with a broad grin of pleasure on his rustic face. " Whoy ! Lor sakes, measter Tummus ! It beant you, be it ? Well, to be sure P u Yes, it's me, sure enough, George. How are the rheumatics ?" "Och ! they be foine, sur?" " Nice day, George, ain't it ? Good for the crops, eh?" vol. I. v 50 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. " Yees, surely ! it's a foine day when the soon shoines! that it be, sur! Ho ! ho! ho." And George laughed a heavy, earthy sort of laugh, which partook of the nature of the clay in which he delved — it was so warm, and yet lumpish, and seemed to stick in his throat and be unable to come out, although his mouth was certainly opened wide enough to permit of its exit. It may be mentioned that this was one of George's time-honoured jokes about the sun and the weather, indeed the only one he ever knew of ; and he would re- peat it some twenty times a day, if anyone gave him the cue, each time being as much amused with it, and struck with its novelty and wit as if that were the first time he pro- pounded it. A sharp, querulous voice, which belonged to somebody evidently not far distant, here suddenly interposed — CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 51 u What are you standing jabbering and grinning there like a baboon for, man ? Be- gone to your work man ! Do you think I keep your idle carcass and pay your wages for you to be kicking your heels in the air all day and doing nothing ? Begone to your work, man, and let my son in ; if I ever catch you jabbbering away like this again, out you go bag and baggage !" Here it must be noted that the speaker did not pause a second in the delivery of this harangue — not a stop, such as have been put here for the sake of legibility, occurred between the words — the whole sentence rattled out as one word — a word fiery, hot, strong, and by no means sweet. " Lor sakes ! here's the missus !" ejaculated George, in sudden terror ; and clutching his spade, which he had put down- to open the d 2 UNIVERSITY OF 52 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. gate, lie disappeared amidst the shrubbery much sooner and with a quicker movement than he had evidently acted the part of Janitor. The Dowager it was, without a doubt — for her presence had quickly followed her words, and she now stood before the pair in all her imposing appearance with an irritated face, and her piercing eyes fixed on them enquir- ingly. She was the first to break the short silence that ensued. u Well, and so you have come at last, Thomas ! There, shake hands ! that will do. I wonder you have been able to tear yourself away from all your jackanape companions — a lot of reckless spendthrifts and conceited puppies, every one of them — to come and see your ugly old mother at last. I am so old, CAUGHT IN A TKAP. 53 and, having no airs and graces to receive you like other people — all lies to be sure — that I wonder you do come at all ! I suppose it is only because you want money — money, money, money, like the whole tribe of them — bloodsuckers all. But who's this fellow with you ?" she said, abruptly, turning round on Markworth as if she were going to snap him up. " Who is he, and what does he want, shoving himself in ?" Tom hastened to introduce him, saying that he was an old friend, Mr. Allynne Markworth, who had been very kind to him, and whom he had ventured to invite down according to the express stipulation of his mother. " Humph !" she muttered, " oh ! that's it, is it ; why did you not say so before instead of letting him stand staring there like an idiot? But you never had a head, Thomas, and never 54 CAUGHT IN A TKAP. will as long as you live ! You are only fit to be a lazy soldier to flaunt about all day in a patchwork uniform and do nothing. The only sense you ever have shown was in select- ing your profession ! So this is Mr. Mark- worth, is it ? Humph ! I daresay he's like the rest of them — all calf's head and shrimp sauce ! How do you do, Mr. Markworth ?" She now spoke without the former asperity, and curtseyed low in an old-fashioned man- ner. " Any friend of my son is welcome to my house, poor as it is ! Please go on and lead the way, Thomas, with your friend, you will find a room ready prepared for him, and you know your own. We dine at the regular hour, five o'clock, and it only wants half-an- hour to that, so don't be late. I don't want any dressing or fal-lalling !" The old lady then turned into the shrubbery, evidently CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 55 after the recreant George, and she muttered to herself as she ambled along, M He's taller than Thomas, and a handsome puppy ; but I don't like him — he's a rogue, or I'll eat my boots." There was no need for such an unusual re- past on the part of the Dowager ; she might have been wider from the mark in her casual conjecture. Punctually at five o'clock the tones of some huge clanging old bell clanked through the house, proclaiming the hour; and Tom tapping at Markworth's door, told him that dinner was ready. The latter at once appeared out- side as elaborately dressed as if he were going to attend a Lord Mayor's banquet. a By Jove !" exclaimed Tom, turning his companion round and gazing upon him with eyes of wonder ; " why, what on earth led you 56 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. to get yourself up so fearfully ?" as he led the way to the dining-parlour — a long, low, dismal room on the ground floor. "I always mind little things," replied the other ; " I never sacrifice appearances : M in truth he never did. Tom, on the way down in the train, had explained all about his sister's infirmity — that she was " Not quite right here, you know," tapping his forehead significantly ; so Mark- worth was not surprised to see a tall, pale, slim-looking girl seated at the table with her eyes bent down on her plate. She looked up in a sort of painful wonder when they entered, which changed into a pleased, unmeaning smile when she recognized Tom, and immedi- ately again dropped her eyes. She was dressed in a scarlet dress, made of some stuffy material. Her one weakness — if CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 57 weakness it were — was for bright colours ; she had often told Tom that they made her w feel warm and happy." Poor child ! So she always wore scarlet or light-blue, or orange — the former hue was her favourite one, and she had evidently put on that dress to-day in honour of Tom, to show that she was glad and happy to see him. Susan Hartshorne looked older perhaps than she really was ; she had beautiful fea- tures, but her face was without expression, save that Markworth could perceive — for he had been intently watching her — an occasional careworn or agonised look pass across it whenever her mother spoke, which she did every now and then in sharp accents to the old woman servant who waited on them at table. The Dowager had taken no notice of Markworth in a conversational sense, although d 5 58 CAUGHT IN A TKAP. she eyed him frequently, except to mutter " coxcomb V in an underbreath (which he however distinctly heard), when he first entered the room, and once to ask him to be helped to some dish before her. The meal was a good one. The old lady received a portion of her rents "in kind," and was never at a loss for fresh poultry, fish, or vegetable, not to speak of game ; but it was soon over, for the presiding genius evi- dently looked upon it in the light of a serious business which was not to be trifled with. When the last dish had been brought in and removed, the dowager got up from her seat and stalked majestically out of the room, fol- lowed silently by her daughter, who seemed to glide rather than move. " Rum old party, ain't she ? But she's good, though, and I like her in my way, you CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 59 know, the same as she does me," observed Tom. " Yes," said Markworth, neither affirma- tively nor in a questioning tone of voice, but with a mixture of both inflections. " Where, however, is that governess you were talking about to me ?" u Oh ! Miss Kingscott ! Ton my soul I don't know. Let's go and hunt her up; I have not seen her yet." Just then they heard the melancholy notes of an organ in the distance, as they turned into the passage. " That's Susan," observed her brother. " I daresay Miss Kingscott is with her." They followed the strains, which grew louder as they penetrated into the back and apparently deserted quarters of the house. 44 Here we are," said Tom, as he opened 60 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. the door of the room from whence the music proceeded. A dark, haughty, ladylike girl, clad in rustling black silk, stood up and faced the door as they entered. 11 Miss Kingscott, I presume ?" Tom asked, bowing politely with his usual frankness. a Whew ! By jingo !" ejaculated Mark- worth, between his teeth. " I'm blessed if it isn't Clara!" CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 61 CHAPTER IV. MISS KINGSCOTT. " Who was Miss Kingscott ?" a Aye, that would be telling, sure," as a native of the Emerald Isle says when you question him about anything he does not care to disclose. But few persons could give you any satisfactory answer to your enquiry, not even the sharp, shrewd old dowager in whose employ she now was. She might tell you 62 CAUGHT IN A TRAP. that Miss Kingscott was a governess, a lady's companion — regarding her in the light of a saleable article of furniture — and that she came to her well recommended, and that she supposed she knew what she professed to teach, and was worth her wages, or she would not be hired ; but she personally thought her