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 A T H E Pi T i\, 
 
 OTHEE TALES. 
 
 BY 
 
 MARY RUSSELL MITFORD, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "OUR TILLAGE." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 13, GREAT ilAELBOKOUGH STREET. 
 
 1854.
 
 M. 8. MYERS, PKINTEK, 
 22, TAVISTOCK STREET, COVENT CiARDEN.
 
 f 
 
 TO HER DEAR FRIEXD, 
 
 LADY EUSSELL, 
 
 WHOSE SYMPATHY HAS CHEFRED THE PAIN FULLEST HOUR. 
 AS HER COMPANIONSHIP HAS GLADDENED THE BRIGHTtSf, 
 
 THIS TALE, 
 n 
 
 I WRITTEN BENEATH THE SHADOW OF HEI. OWN BEAITIFUL 
 
 1 SW\LLOWFIELD, 
 
 
 o 
 
 s 
 
 J. 
 
 IS MOST RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY 
 INSCRIBED EY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 

 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 The mere plan of Atlierton — the bare 
 outline of the story — has lain for many- 
 years in my mind as a book to be written 
 some day or other, and it would probably 
 have passed away unexecuted, with other 
 intentions good or bad, had not a proposal 
 to gather together, at the same time, 
 though in a separate form, my di^amatic 
 works, and some short prose tales, brought 
 this old scheme to my recollection. 
 
 My offer to attempt this, the longest 
 narrative on which I have ventured, was
 
 VI PEEFACE. 
 
 received with such kind encouragement, 
 that I was easily induced to undertake the 
 ta^k. 
 
 This occurred at the end of last summer. 
 
 Ten months before, I had had a veiy 
 severe accident, having been thrown from 
 my little pony carriage, on the hard gravel 
 road of a friend's park. Ko bones were 
 broken ; but the jar had affected every 
 nerve, and falling upon a highly rheumatic 
 subject, had left the limbs and body 
 crippled and powerless. There was, how- 
 ever, something to be expected from the 
 great restorer. Time ; and during the 
 summer, I had been lifted down stairs, and 
 driven thi'ough our beautiful lanes, in hopes 
 that the blessed air, to which I had been 
 almost as much accustomed as a gipsy, 
 would prove a still more effectual remedy. 
 
 I3ut the season was peculiarly unfa-
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 Yourable. I gained no strength. The 
 autumn found me again confined to my 
 room ; wheeled with difficulty from the bed 
 to the fireside; unable to rise from my seat, 
 to stand for a moment, to put one foot 
 before another ; and when lifted into bed, 
 incapable of turning or mo^-ing in the 
 slightest degree whatever. Even in ^viiting, 
 I was often obliged to have the ink-glass 
 held for me, because I could not raise my 
 hand to dip the pen in the ink. 
 
 In this state, with frequent paroxysms 
 of pain, was the greater part of '• Atherton" 
 written. It was concluded during a severe 
 attack of influenza, — concluded because it 
 lay upon my mind as an engagement to 
 be fulfilled — a debt to be discharged ; and 
 there was less risk in the exertion than in 
 the anxiety. 
 
 I have told this story, not so much as an
 
 VIU PREFACE. 
 
 excuse for faults or shortcomings, since I 
 well know that the public looks, and has 
 a right to look, to the quality of a work, 
 and not to the circumstances under which 
 it has been produced ; I tell it as a fact 
 rather than an apology ; and most surely 
 not as a complaint. So far, indeed, am I 
 from murmuring against that Will which 
 alone knows what is best for us all, that I 
 cannot be sufficiently thankful to the 
 merciful Providence which, shatteiing the 
 frame, left such poor faculties as were 
 originally vouchsafed to me, undimmed 
 and unclouded ; enabling me still to live 
 by the mind, and not only to enjoy the 
 never-wearying delight of reading the 
 thoughts of others, but even to light up 
 a sick chamber, and brighten a wintry 
 sky, by recalling the sweet and sunny 
 valley, which formed one of the most 
 cherished haunts of my happier years.
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 The shorter Stories might, I think, 
 fairly pass for manuscript. They were 
 written, for the most part, for one of 
 those costly and splendid Annuals, which 
 many bought to look at, and few cared to 
 read. That they were composed to match 
 the pictures is hardly a disadvantage, 
 since pictures are often full of sug- 
 gestions; but that they were called for 
 in furious haste, and were sometimes 
 illustrations of distant ages and distant 
 countries, was hardly favourable to a 
 writer so slow and so home-loving as 
 myself. I would fain have added one or 
 two of such sketches as used to be 
 received only too indulgently, but strength 
 and power have failed me so entirely, that 
 I have been unable even to correct the 
 proofs of the later volumes. 
 
 And now, gentle reader, health and 
 
 farewell. 
 
 M. E. MITFOED. 
 
 Stoallowjield, March, 1854.
 
 ATHERTOK 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE GREAT FAE:M, 
 
 It was about three o'clock on a Xoyeni- 
 ber afternoon, somewbere about five and 
 thirty years ago, tbat an old fashioned 
 post-chaise, mth one solitary inmate, went 
 rumbling and jumbling over the wide ver- 
 dant ocean of one of the great downs of 
 the southern counties. The traveller, a 
 lean, gaunt, bony man, a good deal on the 
 shady side of fifty, bore about him in his 
 acute features, liis shrewd eye, a certain 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 ATHERTON. 
 
 formality of demeanour and an occasional 
 quaintness of phrase, evident marks of his 
 profession ; and did not need the blue bag 
 which, flanked by an ancient folio, rested 
 on the seat beside him, to be at once re- 
 cognized for what he really was, a London 
 solicitor. There was, however, in the 
 deep and somewhat sad abstraction in 
 which he leant back in the carnage, evi- 
 dence of more personal feelings than those 
 arising from professional interest ; and he 
 started, as from a painful dream, when, on 
 arriving at the top of a hill, or rather on 
 attaining the extremity of a high table- 
 land, the postboy suddenly stopped his 
 horses, and touching his cap, turned round 
 with the inquiry : 
 
 ''TotheHaU, sir?" 
 
 " No ; to the Great Farm." 
 
 And, aroused from the dismal thoughts 
 by which he had been engrossed, Mr. 
 Langhton addressed himself to the contem-
 
 ATHERTOX. 6 
 
 plation of the beautiful landscape before 
 him. 
 
 A most beautiful landscape it was. The 
 season had been mild, so that the trees 
 retained much of their foliage, and had 
 rather gained than lost in richness of 
 colour ; the dark and uniform verdure of 
 summer being weU exchanged for the 
 warm hues of autumn, varying from 
 golden brown to palish yellow, with many a 
 ruddy gleam from the old thorns, and many 
 an orange light from the beech-woods, 
 forming so fine a contrast with the eme- 
 rald depths of the grassy valley, and the 
 purplish tint of the hills. A thrice beau- 
 tiful landscape. One of those oases of 
 cultivation which are occasionally found 
 amid the great downs of the south of Eng- 
 land, and appear all the richer and more 
 fertile when embedded in the surrounding 
 barrenness and sterility. 
 
 The road wound down a long declivity 
 
 B 2
 
 4 ATIIERTON. 
 
 to a village embosomed in wood, with its 
 grey eliiircli-tower, its pretty rectory, its 
 neat cottages and cottage-shops to the old 
 gables, the bams, stables, ricks, and innu- 
 merable outbuildings of the Great Farm. 
 Climbing up the opposite hill appeared the 
 magnificent demesne of Atherton Ilall ; 
 the park paling overhung with gigantic 
 trees, bounding the road for upwards of a 
 mile, its stately lodges, its waters, laAvns, 
 and woods, extending to a chase whose 
 wild forest scenery was lost in the distance. 
 Midway the acclivity, the princely man- 
 sion, a fine specimen of the Palladian 
 architecture which prevailed in England 
 in the eighteenth century, with its noble 
 portico'and long colonnades, its broad ter- 
 races, and flight above flight of marble 
 steps, stood glittering in the wintiy light, 
 as if, like the peacocks sunning themselves 
 on the balustrade, the very TNalls had a 
 consciousness of their own proud beauty.
 
 ATHERTOy. & 
 
 Mr. Langhton had the familiarity of a 
 native with the scenery, and, himself a 
 man of refined taste, never looked at it 
 without pleasure. Xotv, however, as he 
 gazed at the palace of the proud noble and 
 the homestead of the tenant, his musings 
 seemed to become sadder : 
 
 '*A strange destiny," thought he, ^^to 
 carry wealth to one household and poverty 
 to another; misery, perhaps to both! Well, 
 it is a lawyer's fate !" 
 
 And so thinking he drove up to the door. 
 
 There were few houses which wore more 
 completely the outward show of comfort 
 and prosperity than the Great Fami at 
 Atherton. It was a large square substan- 
 tial building, with fine fruit-trees covering 
 the upper part of the walls, and jessamine, 
 honeysuckle, and China roses clustering 
 round the windows. The green court, 
 which divided the house from the road, 
 was gay dm-ing nine months of the year
 
 6 ATHERTON. 
 
 with flowers and flowering trees ; and 
 boasted still some lingering spikes of 
 hollyhock, a stray blossom of clove and 
 scarlet geranium, and bunches of that 
 most fragrant of roses which is called 
 " of the four seasons." The mignionette 
 too and the violet still mingled their 
 delicious odours. People who sincerely 
 love flowers contrive to make them blow 
 sooner and later than others. "We see 
 this in the poorest cottages, and here was 
 no poverty to contend with. On one side 
 of the court was that most affluent of all 
 territories, an immense orchard, a perfect 
 grove of fruit-trees, cherry, apple, pear, 
 plum, and walnut at their tallest growth 
 and fullest bearing. Behind was a large 
 kitchen-garden ; and on the side opposite 
 to the orchard a magnificent farm-yard, a 
 huge and indescribable mixture of riches 
 and mud. Behind that came poultry- 
 yard and rick-yard, horse-pond and duck-
 
 ATHERTON. 7 
 
 pond, barns, stables, cart-houses, cow- 
 houses, dovecots, and pigsties, with all- 
 their inhabitants biped and quadruped, 
 feathered and unfeathered of every de- 
 nomination. 
 
 They who talk of the quiet of the 
 country can hardly have been in a great 
 farm-yard, towards sunset on a wintry 
 day, when the teams are come back from 
 the plough and the cattle from the field, 
 and the whole population is gathered 
 together for the purpose of feeding. I 
 would match it for noise and dirt and 
 jostling against Cheapside, and taking 
 into account the variety of the creatures, 
 and the different keys combined in that 
 wild chorus, I should have little doubt 
 of winning. 
 
 Lord Delancy, the noble owner of the 
 Hall, had most extensive estates in the 
 same county ; but nearly all the parish of 
 Atherton was rented by the tenant of
 
 8 ATHERTON. 
 
 the Great Farm, and that tenant was a 
 woman. 
 
 Mrs. Warner had presided over this land 
 of plenty for nearly fifty years, originally 
 as the wife of the master, latterly as the 
 mistress, and always with high reputation 
 for hospitality and good management. 
 She was a neat, gentle, lady-like person, 
 with silver hair, a fair, pale complexion, 
 mild dark eyes, a little tremor of head 
 and voice, and a slight bend of the slender 
 figure ; altogether a most venerable and 
 beautiful old woman. Her family con- 
 sisted of a daughter-in-law, the widow of 
 her only son, and of their daughter 
 Catherine, commonly called Katy Warner, 
 a girl of fifteen. 
 
 Katy's mother was a round, rosy, merry, 
 bustling dame, who having, since the 
 death of her first husband, had, as she 
 expressed it, the luck to marry and bury a 
 second, bore the name of Bell. To her
 
 ATHERTOX. 9 
 
 for some years back the chief government 
 of the house and farm had devolved, and 
 few women could be fitter for such a 
 charge. With a frame strong and active 
 as that of a man, a competent knowledge 
 of husbandry, a good judgment in cattle, 
 and considerable skill in parish aiBPairs; 
 with a kindness that was always felt and 
 a tongue that was often heard, she 
 scolded her way through the agricultural 
 year from wheat-sowing to harvest. Ig- 
 norant as a new-bom child of the world 
 and its ways, except always the small bit 
 of that '' huge rotundity '' called the 
 manor and royalty of Atherton, it is pro- 
 bable that the very limitation of her 
 faculties conduced not a little to her pros- 
 perity. Fearful of experiments, she stuck 
 to the old routine adapted to her capa- 
 city; and trusted to the experience of 
 her labourers, men for the most part born 
 upon the land, who knew every inch of
 
 10 ATHERTON. 
 
 the ground, and cared for the interest of 
 their good mistress as if it had been their 
 own. Everything throve in this female 
 household, from the flocks whose numbers 
 were counted by thousands down to 
 Katy's bees. 
 
 The parlour, the common living-room 
 of the family, was smaller than, to judge 
 from its appearance, any room in that 
 house ought to have been, chosen, perhaps, 
 on that account — ^people who can command 
 large rooms having a frequent tendency 
 to use small ones. 
 
 It was a sort of excresence on one side 
 of the dwelling, a kind of afterthought, 
 with a sunny bay-window commanding 
 the farm-yard, from which it was only 
 parted by a low paling and a slip of turf, 
 and giving a peep at the high-road. 
 
 A snug and cheerful apartment, after 
 all, was that little parlour, crowded with 
 furniture, from the good old lady's high-
 
 ATHERTON. 11 
 
 backed chair to the low stool on which 
 Katy, whenever that mercurial little per- 
 son did stay five minutes in a place, used 
 to sit at her grandmother's feet. 
 
 In the centre was a small Pembroke 
 table of dark mahogany, somewhat rick- 
 ety ; at the end a sideboard of the 
 same material, the drawers groaning with 
 stands of spirits, and bottles of home- 
 made wine, the top covered with miscel- 
 laneous articles, Mrs. Warner's large 
 Bible, surmounted by a cookery-book, 
 occupying one comer, whilst Mrs. Bell's 
 enormous work-baskets and work-bags 
 over-filled the other; a beautiful jar of 
 dried grasses, Katy's property, occupied 
 the middle. Katy's possessions, indeed, 
 might be traced everywhere. Her litter, 
 living and dead, cumbered the walls and 
 the floor. Birds, kittens, skipping-ropes, 
 bridles, riding- whips, and battle -dores 
 were distributed all over the room, whilst
 
 12 
 
 ATHERTON. 
 
 a fat spaniel called Flora lay basking 
 before tlie fire. 
 
 Two triangular cupboards occupied two 
 opposite comers; of which one was so 
 crammed with closely-packed glass and 
 china that it was dangerous for any unac- 
 customed finger to attempt to extricate 
 cup or saucer from the pile; whilst the 
 other was filled to bursting with articles 
 of daily call, tea, sugar, lemons, nutmegs, 
 and gingerbread. Fruit at all seasons, 
 and cakes of many denominations com- 
 pleted the array. ^N'o one could enter that 
 room without tasting the light seed-cake 
 — diet-bread Mrs. "Warner called it — 
 compounded from a family recipe a 
 hundred years old; or the green goose- 
 berry wine, famous as that of Mrs. Prim- 
 rose, sparkling and effervescent as cham- 
 pagne. It was the very temple of 
 hospitality. 
 
 A side-door opened into a hall which
 
 • ATHERTOX. 13 
 
 might, perhaps, lay equal claim to that 
 title; a large flagged apartment, with a 
 wide open hearth and a heavy oak table, 
 on which business of eating and drinking 
 was going forward all day long. The 
 materials, it is true, were somewhat dif- 
 ferent; consisting not of such kickshaws 
 as cake and wine, but of solid beef in its 
 most ponderous form of round and surloin, 
 massive bacon, and mighty ale. All the 
 comers and goers of the Farm paid a visit 
 to the Stone Hall; and it may be suspected 
 that they occasionally made an errand for 
 no better purpose. 
 
 At this very moment it was the scene of 
 a barter betwixt Joseph Stokes, the old 
 bailiff and factotum, and a west country 
 dealer, bent to exchange a certain drove of 
 horned cattle against a flock of Mrs. War- 
 ner's Southdowns. It was probable that 
 the day would go against the good bailiff.
 
 14 ATHERTON. • 
 
 The man of beeves, a seasoned vessel, 
 having declined the home-brewed, and 
 preferred to drive his bargain over a 
 pitcher of gin-toddy, which was already 
 making innovation upon Joseph's brain 
 unused to such potations. 
 
 His mistresses the whilst were assembled 
 in the common room ; Katy, absorbed by 
 the witcheries of the '' Ai-abian Nights," a 
 recent acquisition; Mrs. "Warner nodding 
 over her knitting, and striving, not very 
 successfully, to resist the after-dinner nap 
 of calm and gentle age; Mrs. Eell en- 
 gaged, with her female prime minister 
 Eachel, in looking over a stupendous 
 flasket of clothes, the produce of the great 
 wash, — such a flasket as might comfortably 
 have carried the fat knight. Sir John, to 
 his immortal ducking in Datchet Mead. 
 Nothing but long habit could have pro- 
 tected Mrs. "Warner's slumbers against
 
 ATHERTOX. 15 
 
 the emphatic exclamations of the mistress 
 at stockings mismatched, snagged table- 
 cloths, and missing kerchiefs, or the shrill 
 defences of the maid. 
 
 Thi'ough the Stone Hall, scarcely noticed 
 by its trafficking tenants, higglers upon a 
 large scale, and into the smaller apartment, 
 hardly less noisy mth its vociferous house- 
 wifery, good Mr. Langhton made his way, 
 welcomed as an honoured friend by all its 
 inmates. Even Flora rose lazily from the 
 hearth-rug to greet the guest who carried 
 so kind a heart under so formal a bearing. 
 Dogs are great penetrators into the hidden 
 mystery of character. When they wag 
 their tails, you may be sure either that 
 there is no deception, or that the deception 
 is of the rarest and honestest sort, that the 
 wood beneath is of finer grain than the 
 outward veneering. Flora set up her long 
 ears, and wagged her tail in his honour ; 
 Mrs. Warner pressed his offered hand ;
 
 16 ATHERTON. 
 
 Katy skipped about him for joy; Mrs. 
 Bell, jingling her keys, assailed him with 
 a perfect storm of hospitality ; and Eachel 
 stood eagerly waiting to execute her 
 orders. 
 
 He put aside her offers with character- 
 istic decision. ^'He would have nothing 
 yet, he thanked her. He had taken some- 
 thing at the last stage. IS'o dinner; no 
 wine ; no cakes ; no fruit. He must sleep 
 at the Hall, where Lord Delancy had ap- 
 pointed to meet him. He would take 
 a cup of tea by-and-bye, when they did, 
 at their usual time. In the mean- 
 while, he wished to speak a few words 
 to Mrs. '^Varner." 
 
 So the produce of the great wash was 
 again packed into its huge receptacle, 
 which Mrs. Eell and Eachel shoved with 
 some difficulty through the door; Katy 
 picking up odds and ends of clean linen as 
 they fell from the pile, rolling them into
 
 ATHERTON. 17 
 
 tight pellets, and tossing them laughingly 
 into the basket as the party disappeared, 
 pretty much as a schoolboy might have 
 flung a ball at cricket. 
 
 VOL. T.
 
 18 ATHERTON. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE miser's will. ; 
 
 ^^Katy grows a charming girl," cried the 
 old lawyer, when left alone with his hostess, 
 settling himself comfortably on the oi:>posite 
 side of the bright wood fire. " She is 
 already taller than her mother, and prettier ' 
 than anything that I have seen this many 
 a day. That rosy, dimpled, sparkling \ 
 beauty is become very uncommon in Lon- | 
 don. I suppose she owes her fulness of ; 
 bloom to your country air and country ; 
 freedom. There is as perfect evidence of ^ 
 health in those bright hazel eyes, with their 
 long lashes, and that profusion of shining ; 
 
 i
 
 ATHEETON. 19 
 
 broTHi curls, as in the glowing cheeks and 
 ruddy lips, and the white teeth which she 
 shows as often as she smiles, that is, as 
 often as she speaks." 
 
 '^ She is sunburnt just now,'' said grand- 
 mamma, highly pleased, and wishing to 
 hear more praises of her darling. 
 
 "!N"ot a bit more sunburnt than she 
 ought to be, as the party lady said of 
 Wilkes's squint," responded the old law- 
 yer ; ^^ her beauty is only the richer for it. 
 How old is she ?" 
 
 ^^ Fifteen last April; a mere child yet, 
 and I am afraid a spoilt child — wild as a 
 colt untamed, but good and kind and inno- 
 cent and loving, with all her pranks. "Was 
 itof Katy that you wished to speak to me, 
 Mr. Langhton ?" asked the old lady, recol- 
 lecting herself. 
 
 ^^ Kot exactly, although the subject on 
 Avhich I have to speak with you may greatly 
 influence her future life. Did you ever
 
 20 ATIIERTOX. 
 
 hear of a relation of your late husband, 
 called Eichard Strange? Do you recollect 
 him?' 
 
 '^ Eecollect him? truly do I ! !N'either 
 my husband nor I were so rich in kinsfolk 
 that we could aiford to forget one; and this 
 Eichard Strange was, I think, the nearest 
 relation my poor Thomas had. He was 
 his cousin once removed, having been the 
 cousin-gcrman of his father. Ay, he was 
 above a dozen years older than Thomas, 
 and must be old now — half-way, I should 
 think, between fourscore and ninety. I 
 should suppose he must be failing too; 
 although, when I last saw him, he was 
 active and hearty — one of those thin and 
 wiiy men who keep their strength long." 
 
 ^^ You knew him, then ?" 
 
 " Yes, I have seen him perhaps half a 
 score times since my man-iage ; the last 
 time was about fourteen years ago, before 
 my poor son's death. I remember he was
 
 ATHERTOy. 21 
 
 uiucli taken with. Katy, then a little 
 toddling thing, just beginning to talk, who 
 laughed and played with him as she did 
 with eveiybody. I have never seen him 
 since, but we commonly hear from him at 
 Christmas. To say the truth, ^ir. 
 Langhton, my husband, who was as kind 
 a soul as ever lived, used to keep up the 
 old fashion of sending a basket of country 
 cheer, turkey, and chine, and such like, 
 to two or three far-away kinsfolk in Lon- 
 don ; and I have continued the custom, 
 the rather that we know most of them to 
 be not the best off in the world. Some- 
 body, indeed, told my daughter that 
 Eichard Strange, though he did look like 
 an old beggar, was quite well to do. But 
 she called upon him in London when she 
 went there last year about the late Mr. 
 BelPs affairs, and found him living in a 
 poor way enough. A very poor way by 
 her account, though she never saw him in
 
 22 ATHERTON. 
 
 his own place, only in a sort of porter's 
 lodge. Does he want any thing that we 
 can do for him, I wonder ? Do you know 
 him, Mr. Langhton?" 
 
 " I did know him as intimately, perhaps, 
 as he chose to be known by anybody. He 
 is dead. I was his solicitor ; I am now 
 his executor; and it is about his will, 
 Mrs. "Warner, that I am come to you. I 
 am not afraid of overturning a mind so 
 well-balanced as yours. Did it never 
 occur to you that there are in the world 
 such things as misers ? That cousin of 
 your good husband, Eichard Strange, has 
 died worth almost two millions of money; 
 and of that sum, nearly half — quite half, 
 except moderate legacies to a few chari- 
 ties, and the still fewer private friends, 
 that a man who passes his life in money- 
 getting can hope to acquire — the half of 
 this sum is bequeathed to the heii's of the 
 body of his deceased kinsman, Thomas 
 Warner of Atherton Great Farm."
 
 ATHERTON. 23 
 
 " To Katy ! the only daughter of his 
 only son ! — to my poor Katy 1" And in 
 spite of the well-balanced mind which had 
 been justly imputed to her, the good 
 grandmother, struck, perhaps, by a transi- 
 tion in the fate of her simple pet, which 
 sounded like the conclusion of a fairy-tale, 
 seemed likely to faint. 
 
 *' Ay, dear Mrs. Warner, you may well 
 look astounded. Take a glass of your 
 own wine,'' said Mr. lianghton, adminis- 
 tering the cordial. '' You may well be 
 frightened : it is a terrible destiny to be a 
 great heiress. But there is health of mind 
 as well as of body in that bright-eyed 
 damsel. She will have you to take care 
 of her, and, in a far less important degree, 
 she will also have me. And she shall 
 also, if I see cause for such a measure, 
 have the Court of Chancery,'' added the 
 good lawyer with a peculiar smile, 
 ^' which, with all its faults, and they are
 
 24 ATHERTON. 
 
 many, does yet extend a very vigilant 
 protection over its wards, a most comforta- 
 ble protection to those who have heiresses 
 in charge, keeping off fortune-hunters, 
 and rendering elopements and abductions 
 unprofitable and unsafe. Ay, we must 
 keep off fortune-hunters," continued he, 
 slowly rubbing his hands with an air of 
 deliberation, as if weighing some impor- 
 tant project, ^' we must keep off fortime- 
 liunters. But as Katy will have only too 
 much money of her own, instead of 
 looking out om'selves for mere wealth, we 
 must select for her some young man for 
 whom we can answer ; whose estate and 
 position will satisfy the world, and whose 
 character will be a pledge for her happi- 
 ness. A fortune of nearly a million is 
 certainly, according to my views, a great 
 danger, and therefore a great calamity ; 
 but there are consolations even for that. 
 We must look about us."
 
 ATHERTOX. 25 
 
 '^ Or Katy hereafter may look about for 
 herself," interposed Mrs. Warner. '^ Old 
 as I am, I have still some faith in a 
 marriage of affection. With that fortune, 
 and the prettiness you were talking of, oiu' 
 little girl may make her own choice." 
 
 '' Hem !" quoth the man of law again, 
 rubbing his hands. '' We may help her, 
 though. Those love-matches of boys and 
 girls are not always the happiest. How- 
 ever, we'll talk of that another time. 
 These are early days as yet ; for, as you 
 may well imagine, I took care to inform 
 you as soon as I had ascertained that there 
 was no chance, I may say no possibility of 
 another claimant." 
 
 " Poor Eichard Strange ! When did he 
 die ?" 
 
 " That there is no telling. He lived, if 
 such an existence can be called living, in 
 miserable dilapidated chambers, in an out- 
 of-the-way place called Lyon's Inn. I
 
 26 ATHERTON. 
 
 myself had never been inside his rooms 
 until I went thither upon this busi- 
 ness. Frequently as he had occasion to 
 consult me, he either came to me at my 
 own office, or appointed to meet me at 
 some third place ; always contriving to 
 make the persons with whom he had 
 dealings, whether they bought estates, or 
 whether they sold estates ; or whether, as 
 happened most frequently, they mortgaged 
 the dirty acres, defray every charge possi- 
 ble. My bills, always paid by the other 
 party, were nothing compared with his: 
 meetings, journeys, consultations, letters 
 written, letters received, postage, carriage, 
 loss of time, and when every imaginable 
 item had been put down, he would add 
 some unimaginable sum under the head of 
 sundries. A thorough miser was Eichard 
 Strange ; Elwes might have taken pattern 
 from him." 
 
 ^' And was that how he scraped together 
 so much money ?''
 
 ATHERTON. 27 
 
 *^ No doubt he began by scraping to- 
 gether — by mere saving. That was be- 
 fore my time. But in addition to his 
 habit of hoarding, which was a veritable 
 instinct like that of a squirrel or a monkey, 
 he had immense sagacity in the manage- 
 ment of money — understood the handling 
 of that delicate machine, called the stocks, 
 better than any man on 'Change, never 
 missed a good stroke, never made a bad 
 one, trafficked in everything, gained by 
 everything, lost nothing, spent nothing; 
 so that on the whole, I am rather surprised 
 that he did not cut up richer." 
 
 ^' Mr. Langhton ! richer !" 
 
 " Aye ! such will be the general feeling 
 of the monied world. Everybody will 
 wonder what he could have done with his 
 wealth ; though, to be sure, we may find a 
 good deal more yet ; for he has left us no 
 list of his property, and we have had little 
 time to i-ummage. There may be another
 
 28 ATHERTON. 
 
 million so far as I know. We shall find 
 out by degrees. I must inquire amongst 
 our great capitalists. They may help us.'' 
 ^^He knew them then?" 
 
 ^' Knew them ! to see the respect paid 
 to that shabby, dirty old figiu'e when he 
 entered any of the marts where men of 
 money congregate ! We are all gold- 
 worshippers in our great Babylon. But 
 in this case they bent before the skill as 
 well as the metal ; the amasser as well as 
 the possessor of riches." 
 
 *' Poor Eichard Strange !" sighed Mrs. 
 Warner. "And with all this gold, and 
 this homage because of his gold, he died, 
 if I understand you right, alone?" 
 
 " Alone as he had lived. The portress 
 of the inn rendered him the little service 
 that he would permit in his chambers ; 
 always under his own eye, for he visited 
 nobody, and received his letters and par- 
 cels at the lodge. An honest, simple
 
 ATHERTON. 29 
 
 creature sLe was, who, in spite of his 
 avarice and his suspicions, had a certain 
 pity for his age, his loneliness, and his 
 infirmities. The four-score years and 
 five were beginning to tell upon him fast. 
 She always called him the poor gentleman. 
 I am happy to say that he has left her 
 what will make her comfortable, which, of 
 course, we should have taken care to do 
 on Katy's account, if he had not. I men- 
 tion it only because it is pleasant that ho 
 should have done the right thing. There 
 are good points in most of us, and they 
 were not wanting in Eichard Strange — 
 though the crust at the surface was hard 
 and deep." 
 
 '•But his death, Mr. Langhton? TeU 
 me of that ?" 
 
 ''Well, on Monday evening last, as I 
 was sitting dismally enough, alone in 
 IN'orfolk Street, turning over huge masses 
 of laAV papers relating to another acquain-
 
 30 ATHERTON. 
 
 tance of yours, to whom poverty will be a 
 sorer trial than riches to Katy ; this good 
 creature, Mrs. Barnes, made her appear- 
 ance to announce to me that Mr. Strange 
 was missing! She came to me, she said, 
 because he had once ordered her never to 
 speak about him to any one else ; the 
 nearest approach to confidence that he 
 had ever evinced towards any human 
 being. He had not been seen or heard of 
 since the preceding Tuesday. Letters 
 and parcels had arrived ; clerks had called 
 on foot, and gentlefolk in coaches; they 
 had rung the old bell till the wire broke ; 
 they had knocked till they were weary ; 
 there was no answer to knock or ring ; no 
 paper on the door, no sound of life in the 
 chambers. Once before he had been mis- 
 sing for days, and had come out as if 
 nothing had happened, only pale and thin. 
 Another time, he had been gone a 
 week, when the paper on the door said.
 
 ATHERTON. 31 
 
 ' out till six/ But then he had gone 
 through the lodge ; and now she was cer- 
 tain that he had not passed. What should 
 she do ?" 
 
 ^^And you broke open the door? It 
 must have been an awful moment !" 
 
 And Mrs. Warner laid down her knit- 
 ting, and held her spectacles in her trem- 
 bling hand. 
 
 ^^ It was an awful moment. I took with 
 me my partner, James Osborne, and two 
 or three other persons well known to poor 
 Strange ; called in the parish authorities ; 
 and, after a due course of knocking and 
 shouting, proceeded to break open the 
 door. We were obliged to summon lock- 
 smiths and blocksmiths. The gates of 
 Newgate were never more strongly bar- 
 ricaded. It was an awful moment, and a 
 most fearful sight. The squalidness, the 
 sordidness, the dirt, the utter destitution 
 of the miser's home. No sign of coals
 
 32 ATHERTON. 
 
 in the rusty grate ; not a vestige of food ; 
 not so much as a cup of water; and the 
 poor owner of these riches and this 
 misery, one of the greatest capitalists of 
 Eui'ope, lying in the midst of the papers 
 and parchments which represented his 
 enormous wealth, shrivelled up in a cor- 
 ner, covered with a rug which a beggar 
 would have scorned, dead, as it seemed to 
 me, rather of cold and starvation, than of 
 sickness or of age. It was a terrible 
 lesson.'' 
 
 ''May Heaven pardon him!'"' And 
 good Protestant as she was, it may be 
 suspected that Mrs. Warners inmost 
 thought was not very unlike a prayer for 
 the soul of Eichard Strange. Mr. Langh- 
 ton's next words brought her back to 
 earth again. 
 
 *' Almost the fii'st packet that we dis- 
 covered was addressed to mo, and con- 
 tained the Will. I had given him several
 
 ATHERTON. 33 
 
 instructions for such a document many 
 years ago, and was not at all surprised 
 to find that Katy came in for nearly half 
 the property." 
 
 '^ You expected this bequest, Mr. 
 Langhton?" 
 
 " And you wonder that I did not com- 
 municate my expectations to you ! I thought 
 such a bequest probable. Eut who could 
 answer for the caprice of a man so re- 
 served and so little accessible to ordinary 
 motives ? He might have endowed a 
 college or a cat. Would it have been 
 mse to have entrusted dear Mrs. Bell with 
 a contingency which her sanguine temper 
 would have converted into a certainty, and 
 have proclaimed to every soul in the 
 parish, from Lord Delancy to Jacob 
 Stokes ? " 
 
 In spite of the tears which had moistened 
 Mrs. AYarner's spectacles, she now lifted 
 her eyes with a smile in them, which 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 ATHEETOX. 
 
 proved liow tlioroughly she joined in the 
 good solicitor's estimate of her daughter- 
 in-law's discretion. Then, with sudden 
 recollection, she inquired : 
 
 " And the other half of the property ? " 
 
 " Ay, there is the real mystery of this 
 Will. That Eichard Strange should be- 
 queath great part of his money to the heir 
 of his nearest kinsman, with whom he had 
 constantly kept up a sort of intercourse, 
 that for him might be called amicable, is 
 natural and proper enough. But the other 
 half — Did you ever hear your husband 
 talk of a person called Betsy Brown, in 
 conjunction with his kinsman ? " 
 
 ^' Never," said Mrs. Warner. 
 
 *^I feared so. There must have been 
 such a person; and the poor heart, that 
 now lies still and cold in the vaults of 
 St. Clement's Church, must once have 
 throbbed with a quickened pulse at the 
 sound of that name. It is a sore puzzle.
 
 ATHEETOX. 35 
 
 Charged, as I said before, with certain 
 legacies to charities, and to a very few in- 
 dividuals, the whole property is left to me 
 in trust, for the heirs of the late Thomas 
 Warner, of Atherton Gfreat Farm, and 
 Betsy Brown, formerly of "Weston, her 
 heirs and assigns. Such names, too ! — 
 Betsy Brown ! There are a thousand 
 Elizabeth Browns. Weston ! — There are 
 a hundred Westons. 'None of the few 
 people who knew my poor client personally, 
 as a man — not as a trafficker in Loans and 
 Consols — none of these, and they are few, 
 can give me the slightest indication as to 
 the person designated, I must advertise : 
 indeed, I have already given orders to that 
 effect, and set the parish clerks to work, 
 ransacking their registers. If there had 
 but been spinster tacked to the end, so 
 that one might have made sure of its being 
 a maiden name ! But there is not the 
 slightest clue to the labyrinth. Luckily," 
 
 D 2
 
 36 ATUERTON. 
 
 added tlie perplexed law}'er, " the uncer- 
 tainty respecting the other legatee will not 
 interfere with the payment of Katy's 
 moiety. And here she comes.
 
 ATHERTON. 37 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 THE HEIRESS. 
 
 " My queen, liow would tou like to be 
 a great lady?" inquired Mr. Langhton of 
 the unconscious heiress, using the pet name 
 by which he was accustomed. to address 
 her. 
 
 "Very much,'' replied Katy; ^'very 
 much, indeed." 
 
 "You are reading the 'Arabian Xights' 
 Entertainments,"' continued Mr. Langh- 
 ton, glancing at the book, which amongst 
 its other wonders had kept the little damsel 
 quiet dun'ng the whole afternoon, and
 
 38 ATHEBTON. 
 
 which, too fascinating to be relinquished, 
 she had carried off with her and still held 
 in her hand. " You are reading the 'Ara- 
 bian Nights.' What would you say to a 
 Good Genius who brought you the Lamp 
 of Aladdin, even though he should put on 
 the form of a gaunt old lawyer?" 
 
 " Ah ! but there are no such Good 
 Geniuses now!" exclaimed Katy. 
 
 '^ Does she dare to tell me that? Ask 
 your grandmamma." 
 
 Mrs. Warner's smile a little puzzled 
 Katy. 
 
 ''At all events," rejoined she, "there 
 are no such lamps now-a-days as the Lamp 
 of Aladdin. No Wonderful Lamps that 
 can summon slaves and build palaces." 
 
 " Do not make too sure of that either," 
 returned her friend. " For my part, I have 
 always observed that money, provided there 
 be but enough of it, can command as 
 many slaves, and build as many palaces, 
 as any old lamp of them all."
 
 ATHERTON. 39 
 
 And then yielding to the natural curio- 
 sity of Katy, and the eager questioning of 
 her mother, Mr. Langhton, for the second 
 time, poured forth his marvellous tale. 
 
 Mrs. Bell, intent on hospitable cares, and 
 thoroughly persuaded that her guest had 
 had no dinner, had entered the room at the 
 very moment of this little dialogue, head- 
 ing a procession of serving-maidens bearing 
 every sort of refreshment, sweet and sa- 
 voury, that could be forced into the ser- 
 vice of the tea-table, and was just arranging 
 her stores of home-made dainties — hot- 
 buttered cake, ham, sausages, kidneys, 
 pork-pies, eggs, and honey-comb — when 
 Mr. Langhton's story ^^sent," to useherown 
 expression, ^' all their wits a wool-gather- 
 ing." The result was a scene of disorder 
 rarely witnessed in that orderly house. 
 
 The tea-caddy fell fi'om its mistress's 
 grasp upon the floor; the tea-kettle, in 
 Eachel's trembing hands (for Eachel had
 
 40 ATHERTON. 
 
 helped to spoil Katy from the time she was 
 a month old) first sopped the buttered 
 cake and then half-deluged the tea-tray; 
 "whilst the coftee-pot, wielded by the rosy- 
 cheeked Sally, had well-nigh spilt its boil- 
 ing contents on that pet of pets, the fat 
 spaniel, Flora, who, too lazy to get out of 
 the way, and accustomed to the observance 
 of all around her, looked up astonished at 
 the general confusion. 
 
 Mrs. Warner, however, by this time 
 recovered from her emotion, vindicated 
 Mr. Langhton's opinion of her calmness, 
 by assuming the direction of the tea-table. 
 Another hot cake made its appearance, and 
 the conversation resumed its desultory 
 course. A dozen such surprises would not 
 have silenced Mrs. Bell. 
 
 " I am sure," said she, *Hhat this great 
 fortune all comes from my having carried 
 Katy, when we were in London last year, 
 to see Mr. Strange at that place vrhich he
 
 ATHERTOX. 41 
 
 called an Inn, but wHch, so far as I could 
 make out, is not an Inn at all. That visit 
 was the cause of this good luck." 
 
 ^^ The Will is dated twenty years ago," 
 observed ]Mr. Langhton. 
 
 '^Xever mind that, "persisted she; "what 
 does the date signify? I am quite sure 
 that our visit did it all. But at first, to be 
 sure, he se^aed rather put out by being 
 called down to that little place of a Lodge ; 
 and seemed to doubt if we were really his 
 cousins from Atherton, till I showed him a 
 great basket with a Michaelmas goose and 
 a turkey and chine, and some lean- meats." 
 
 "Ah!" quoth !Mr. Langhton, "so he 
 recognised them?" 
 
 " Yes ; and desired that when we sent 
 up a hamper at Christmas, we should put 
 in some turnips and carrots to eat with the 
 chine, and plenty of sweet herbs to stuff 
 the turkey ; and, above all, he charged us 
 not to forget to pay the porterage as well 
 as the carriage.
 
 42 ATHEETON. 
 
 ^^ He was willing to remove any doubts 
 that you might entertain respecting his 
 identity. Did he say nothing to my little 
 queen here ?" 
 
 '^ He seemed mightily taken with her," 
 replied the good mother; ''chucked her 
 under the chin, and desired her to give 
 him a kiss." 
 
 *' That was less peculiar," observed the 
 old lawyer. '' Many a man might have 
 made that request, and have invented the 
 relationship on purpose." 
 
 '' I did not kiss him, though," inter- 
 rupted Katy, raising her head from her 
 grandmother's lap, as she sate leaning 
 against her knee. 
 
 *'He was mightily taken with her, 
 nevertheless," resumed Mrs. Bell; ''and 
 fumbled for a long time in those ragged 
 pockets of his to find a halfpenny to give 
 her. I have kept it myself,'' contuiued 
 she, fumbling in her turn in a huge pocket
 
 ATHERTON. 43 
 
 which sent forth a jingling sound of many 
 keys, mixed with thimbles, scissors, nut- 
 meg-graters, knives, slate-pencils, a small 
 padlock, a string of buttons, and money of 
 all denominations. The treasure in ques- 
 tion, the miser's gift, was carefully hoarded 
 in an old-fashioned housewife. " I have 
 kept it," said she, '' partly as a curiosity, 
 partly for luck — ^you see there's a hole in 
 it. Katy's so careless, that I was afraid 
 to trust it with her, for fear of her losing 
 it, or giving it to the first beggar she met. 
 And you see how right I was, and what 
 luck it has brought her after all." 
 
 " The poor old halfpenny ! " cried Katy, 
 again looking up. ^^ You will give it to 
 me now, dear mamma : will you not ? 'No 
 fear that I should lose it now ; I shall keep 
 it as long as I live in memory of one who 
 meant me so kindly. And yet it will be 
 very bad luck if this legacy takes me from 
 you, grandmamma, and from dear Ather- 
 ton."
 
 44 ATHERTON. 
 
 *' But the legacy will neither take you 
 from Atherton, or from grandmamma. I 
 am your guardian, and your dear grand- 
 mamma will be joined with me in the 
 trust ; and she and your good mother will 
 receive a large allowance for taking care 
 of you." 
 
 '^ Ah ! how good they have always 
 been ! what care they have taken of me 
 when I was nothing but a trouble to 
 them!" exclaimed the heiress. 
 
 '' And now I must be going. What 
 shall I send you from London? Think 
 what you want." 
 
 ^^ Oh ! I have never wanted anything in 
 all my life." 
 
 "Then you have been happier than most 
 people," said the lawyer. " But think 
 again. If you want nothing for yourself, 
 do not you want something for others? 
 Your good mamma, does she want no- 
 thing?" added he, in a low voice.
 
 ATHEETO^^ 45 
 
 The colour rose in Katy's cheek. 
 
 ^^ Let me wliisper in your ear, Mr. 
 Langhton; it's a secret. Could you, do 
 you think, get in London foui' great, 
 strong, beautiful cart-horses — perfect 
 beauties?'' 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 ^' Handsomer than Mr. Thoi-p's, the 
 miller ? Mamma has always had such a 
 hankering after a bell-team like Mr. 
 Thorp's. But I should like it to be finer 
 than his. So would she. She would like 
 that better than anything in the world, if 
 you could manage it." 
 
 ^' I think it may be contrived. We 
 shall see. Anything else?" 
 
 ^' And a new jacket and trowsers — a 
 whole suit — for little Jacob Stokes. He 
 takes care of my pony ; and helps in my 
 garden ; and, poor boy, he is as ragged as 
 a colt. And a new stuff-gown for poor 
 Dame Barnes ; and another — ''
 
 46 ATHERTON. 
 
 ^^ Stop my queen, stop. You shall have 
 money for jackets and gowns. But grand- 
 mamma — do you want nothing for the 
 dear grandmamma?" 
 
 " Could you get a book called ^ Sir 
 Charles Grandison,' do you think? Grand- 
 mamma was saying the other day she 
 should like to read it over again. I won- 
 der if it's as charming as the ^Arabian 
 Nights ! ' And money to give away in 
 cloaks and blankets. Let that be sent to 
 grandmamma. Ah ! I wish that all the 
 fortune had been left to her ! She would 
 have spent it so much better than I shall 
 ever do." 
 
 ^^ You will spend it none the worse, my 
 dear, for mistrusting yom^self. Bless God 
 that you have such an example and such 
 an adviser in all serious matters. And for 
 the things which young ladies are expected 
 to know in this wicked world, the com- 
 mon ways of what is called society, we
 
 ATHERTOX. 47 
 
 must look about for a guide. Do you see 
 much, of the good folk at the Eectory, 
 Mrs. Warner ? Mrs. Glenham is an ele- 
 gant woman. I should think that her 
 daughters would be nice companions for 
 Katy?" 
 
 ^' The giiis are still very young," replied 
 Mrs. Warner : '^ children of ten and eleven. 
 And we see less of Mrs. Glenham than 
 formerly.'' 
 
 ''^Mi's. Glenham calls Katy a romp," 
 added ^Ii'S. Bell, in an affronted tone. 
 
 ^' She has never forgotten an unlucky 
 nutting party in Atherton Wood, where 
 frocks were torn, and bonnets crushed, and 
 slippers lost," said the grandmother, 
 smiling. 
 
 '^ I am sui-e it was all the fault of her 
 own two sons," resumed Mrs. Bell. 
 ''There is not so rude a boy as Charles 
 Glenham in all Atherton." 
 
 ''Harry is not rude," interposed Katy. 
 " He's the kindest creature in the world."
 
 48 ATHERTOX. 
 
 " It's more than cau be said of his 
 prim sisters, or his fine lady mother," re- 
 joined Mrs. Bell. *' She told me to my 
 face that my daughter set hers a bad ex- 
 ample. A bad example ! Let her look 
 at home. If Katy does get into a scrape 
 now and then, whose fault is it, I wonder ? 
 "When she happened to be riding Jacob 
 Stokes's donkey, and the animal put his 
 fore feet into a ditch, and sent her over 
 his head — was not it because Charles Glen- 
 ham started out of the opposite hedge, 
 blowing a cow-horn ?" 
 
 ^'But Ilany picked me up," quoth 
 Katy. 
 
 *^ And when Lord Delancy caught her 
 in our orchard, perched in the middle of a 
 cheiTy-tree — was not it because Master 
 Charley had carried off the ladder ?" 
 
 ^' Hany helped me down, mamma. Ee- 
 member that." 
 
 ^' Well ! Of course a great lad just going
 
 ATHEETON. 49 
 
 to College is not quite so bad as his 
 younger brother. But for my part, I'll 
 have nothing to say to the Glenhams. 
 Mrs. Glenham to lecture me, and call 
 Katy incorrigible I" 
 
 '^ You are quite right, Mrs. Bell. We'll 
 have nothing to say to them. And now I 
 must be off to the Hall. Farewell, dear 
 lady. Good-bye, my queen." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 50 ATHERTOX. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 THE LAWYER. 
 
 Stephen Langhton was, as the reader will 
 have gathered from the preceding pages, 
 a great London solicitor. 
 
 Forty years before he had left this very 
 village of Atherton, of which his father 
 was rector, to join his uncle, the head of 
 an eminent firm in Norfolk Street, Strand. 
 There, as clerk, as partner, and as suc- 
 cessor, he had remained ever since ; an old 
 bachelor like his predecessor, and like him 
 uniting considerable taste and talent to 
 unblemished integrity and much know- 
 ledge of his profession. From him, too, 
 he inherited a trick of making friends of 
 his clients, and taking a fidgety interest in
 
 ATHERTON. 51 
 
 their prosperity and well-being. A pecu- 
 liarity which contributed far more to the 
 comfort and advantage of his employers 
 than to his own ; since, although in his 
 own person free from all encumbrance (to 
 borrow a favourite advertising phrase), he 
 shared all the anxieties produced by un- 
 thrift heirs, unmanageable schoolboys, 
 marriageable daughters, and gullible 
 widows ; and was indeed the general 
 adviser, trustee, and executor of all his 
 clients, dead or living. 
 
 For those belonging to his native vil- 
 lage, he entertained particular affection; 
 especially for Lord Delancy, whose pro- 
 perty had been managed by the firm 
 which he represented for upwards of a 
 century ; and with whom, although rank- 
 ing amongst the haughtiest members of 
 the aristocracy, he had lived, from the 
 days when they were playfellows and 
 schoolmates to the present hour, on terms 
 
 E 2
 
 52 ATHERTON. 
 
 of fraternal affection and familiarity. And 
 now this interest was deepened and sad- 
 dened by the storm of adversit}^, which, 
 after having been gathering for years 
 around his noble fiiend, seemed likely to 
 crush him to the very earth. 
 
 A long-pending suit respecting a dis- 
 puted will had just been given against him. 
 To feed this suit, mortgage upon mortgage 
 had been granted upon his paternal estates, 
 until those estates would hardly defray 
 the securities with their accumulated 
 interest. 
 
 In truth the property itself, extensive 
 and splendid as it appeared, had been in- 
 volved for many generations. The por- 
 tions of younger sons, the do^vries of 
 daughters, the jointures of widows had 
 prest upon it heavily; and, as so often 
 happens with large nominal estates, each 
 noble proprietor had lived up to his esti- 
 mated rather than his real income.
 
 ATHERTOX. 53 
 
 There had been no vice amongst them ; 
 no gambling by cards or dice, no racing, 
 no profligacy. Taste had been their worst 
 enemy. One ancestor had restored the 
 old baronial castle from which their title 
 was derived in a northern county ; 
 another had built the splendid mansion of 
 Atherton Hall. The late Lord Delancy 
 had worthily filled the noble picture- 
 gallery designed by his progenitor ; and 
 the present had furnished the library with 
 equal regard to everything except ex- 
 pense : whilst all of them had practised 
 largely the unprofitable virtues of hospi- 
 tality, generosity, independence, and dis- 
 interestedness. There were no place- 
 holders or place-hunters in their long 
 line. 
 
 Their very pride, and proud they were, 
 Avas based upon a scorn of meanness in 
 every form. 
 
 In the present head of that old house, a
 
 54 ATHERTON. 
 
 peculiar sense of locality, a clinging to 
 early feelings would, Mr. Langhton knew, 
 add tenfold bitterness to the bitter draught 
 which he had to administer. At Atherton 
 he had been born. There he had wooed 
 and wedded the beautiful wife whose un- 
 timely death had left him a bereaved and 
 solitary man. Four lovely children, of 
 whom the youngest only survived, had 
 been bom there; and three had been 
 buried in the same church with their 
 mother — the same church where their 
 parents' marriage had been celebrated. 
 Every association of bliss and of sorrow, 
 the joy bells and the fimeral knell boimd 
 him to Atherton. 
 
 " Latterly, indeed, for very love of that 
 dear home, he had resided there less con- 
 stantly. He could not bear to look upon 
 the scenes he was so soon to lose. But 
 there he was expected this evening to 
 meet his only son, a distinguished young
 
 ATHERTON. 56 
 
 officer, who, although long absent with his 
 regiment, in the Peninsula, at Waterloo, 
 in France, fully participated in this tena- 
 cious fondness for the seat of his ancestors, 
 the home of his youth. 
 
 The thought of the unworthy possessor 
 who would step into their place was the 
 bitterest drop of all. 
 
 An orphan relation, the son of a cousin- 
 german of Lord Delancy's father, had 
 been educated, fitted out, and sent to 
 India by his generous kinsman. Those 
 were days in which men of good abilities, 
 of a determined spirit, and not too sturdy 
 a morality, still contrived to make fortunes 
 in our Eastern empire. Bold, ambitious, 
 subtle, and supple, Vivian Delancy was 
 the very man to succeed there. He 
 became governor of one of our richest 
 provinces, and wealth gathered round him, 
 no one knew how. Whilst still in the 
 vigour of life, he returned to England in
 
 56 ATHERTON. 
 
 the full hope (for hitherto everything had 
 prospered with him) that the sickly lord 
 whom he had left and his puny boy would 
 both be dead before his arrival. Some 
 flattering correspondent, who had read 
 his heart too well, and wanted a favour, 
 had sent him word that they were actually 
 dying ; and believing what he wished, 
 he expected, on landing in England, to 
 find no obstacle between himself and the 
 ancestral title. 
 
 Half of his hope was fulfilled, ffis 
 kind benefactor was dead ; but the young 
 heir had shot into a vigorous man, strong 
 and hardy as one of the oaks in his own 
 park, and was upon the point of mamage 
 to the lovely but unportioned daughter of 
 a country gentleman. 
 
 The young lord invited his cousin to 
 Atherton ; and with characteristic treach- 
 ery, partly from love, partly from this old 
 and well-concealed hate (for there is no
 
 ATHERTOX. 57 
 
 greater quiekener of a puny love than a 
 deep hatred) the Indian cousin entered 
 the lists as a suitor. The fair Helen, 
 unlike her namesake, ^proved constant to 
 the betrothed lover who had first won her 
 maiden heart. They were married, but 
 not until calumny upon calumny, insult 
 upon insult, had provoked a challenge, 
 the result of which left Vivian Delancy 
 with a bullet in his shoulder, and a vow of 
 vengeance in his heart. 
 
 From this hour the pertinacious and 
 imscrupulous man pursued the ruin of his 
 rival with a bitterness of determination, a 
 concentrated malice which became the 
 ruling passion of his strong nature. He 
 followed vengeance in England as in India 
 he had followed gold, the rather that a 
 remote but patient hope of attaining the 
 ultimate object of his ambition — the 
 family estates ; a hope that seemed to 
 grow by delay, mingled with the lust of
 
 - 58 ATHERTON. 
 
 revenge, and seemed favoured by circum- 
 stances. 
 
 An old relation, to whom, had he died 
 intestate, Lord Delancy would have been 
 the legal heir, had long promised to be- 
 queath his great wealth to the head of 
 the house, not merely from affection to- 
 wards his kinsman, but for the purpose of 
 clearing the family property, and placing 
 the old name in the high position which it 
 had so long occupied in the country. 
 This promise, voluntarily made, increased 
 the carelessness as to pecuniary matters 
 which had been the solitary sin of the 
 race. The pledge had been renewed on 
 Lord Delancy's marriage to a portionless 
 beauty. Mr. Langhton had himself drawn 
 up the will. 
 
 Nearly twenty years after, the aged 
 cousin died, and a later will was produced, 
 bequeathing the entire property to Sir 
 Vivian, who had long since, to his infinite
 
 ATHEETOX. 59 
 
 disgust — he, who valued only an old peer- 
 age — been included in a batch of baronets. 
 The whole household was in consternation. 
 No one had suspected the intention or the 
 act; and upon a closer investigation, a 
 paper, wanting certain formalities, was dis- 
 covered, re-bequeathing all to his beloved 
 kinsman and godson, Arthur, Lord Delancy. 
 Then, when this paper was rejected for 
 informality, a third document was disco- 
 vered — the copy of a letter addi'essed to 
 the solicitor who had drawn the second 
 will — directing its destmction. 
 
 Imagine the materials for litigation in 
 this complication of circumstances ! What 
 were the actual facts of the case, nobody 
 could venture to pronounce. No quarrel 
 had taken place between the testator and 
 his declared heii\ But they lived in dis- 
 tant counties ; the omission of a visit, the 
 misconstruction of a letter, the mere ca- 
 price of age, might have caused his
 
 GO ATHERTON. 
 
 change of intention. On the other hand, 
 the known character of the claimant gave, 
 to all acquainted with him, ample reason 
 for a suspicion of foul play. Witness after 
 witness came forw^ard to give testimony to 
 that effect ; and a missing valet was chased 
 over three parts of the globe, who could 
 prove, they said, the writing and the 
 delivery of the letter of which the copy 
 had been produced. The fate of this man 
 was never clearly ascertained ; but it was 
 at last supposed, and j)robably with truth, 
 that he was amongst the passengers who 
 perished in the wreck of a vessel bound to 
 Canada. 
 
 Years had passed away in this misera- 
 ble litigation; anxiety had succeeded to 
 anxiety; suspense to suspense; trial to trial; 
 and now, after enormous expcnditiu'e, the 
 final decision had been given against Lord 
 Delancy; and the last lingering hope had 
 died away for ever.
 
 ATHERTON. 61 
 
 The temiination of the great will cause 
 was of course known to all parties ; but a 
 far severer blow was yet to come. Suspi- 
 cions had been awakened that the money 
 so long, and with so fatal a facility, ad- 
 vanced on mortgage, had been lent thi'ough 
 a third person. This suspicion was now 
 proved to be correct, and the real mort- 
 gagee — he who, after some months and 
 some few formalities, could eject the pre- 
 sent occupier from all his ancestral estates; 
 from Delancy, the old northern hold, and 
 Atherton, the beloved home, with their 
 affectionate tenantry and matchless collec- 
 tions, was no other than their adversary 
 in the lawsuit, the ungrateful and revenge- 
 ful kinsman. 
 
 To talk over this painful termination of 
 a cause, of which he had always dreaded 
 the result, was IVIr. Langhton's business at 
 the Hall. His hard features twitched as 
 he thought of the conversation he had to
 
 62 ATHERTOX. 
 
 go through. He had armed himseK with 
 a choice copy of Lord Bemer's Transla- 
 tion of Froissart, as a present to his bro- 
 ther bibliomoniac — a tall copy, in all the 
 glory of its original binding, with silver 
 tips and silver clasps, picked up at a sale 
 fabulously cheap. But he knew that, talk 
 as they might of the chivalrous old chroni- 
 cler, who seemed born to immortalise high 
 deeds, and of the brave Englishman, who 
 seemed bom for no purpose but to translate 
 him, the words might issue from their lips, 
 but their hearts would be far away. 
 
 The young heir, too, the gallant soldier, 
 Arthur Delancy, returning to the home of 
 his fathers, only to hear that that home 
 must be abandoned for ever! Arthur, 
 whom he had loved as a son from earliest 
 childhood ! ^^ That accursed lawsuit ! " 
 thought the good lawyer. And no stronger 
 proof can be given of the sincerity of his 
 interest in his clients than to say, that his
 
 ATHEETON. 63 
 
 own predictions as to the result having 
 been so completely verified, never once 
 crossed his mind as a consolation. 
 
 Such were the dark thoughts which 
 caused Stephen Langhton's foot to rest for 
 a moment on the step of the post-chaise 
 which had waited to convey him to the 
 Hall. Ascertaining, even in the midst of 
 his troubles, the safety of the precious 
 Froissart, he sent in Mrs. Bell and Katy, 
 who had attended him to the door with 
 eager hospitality, and turned to take a 
 parting look at the fann. 
 
 There it stood, with the bright fires 
 glowing through the windows in parlour 
 and hall, the glancing lights within the 
 house, and the ruddy glare of lanthoms 
 passing from stable to cow-stall, and from 
 cow-stall to calf-pen, with all its cheerful 
 sights and rural sounds, the very image 
 of rustic plenty. The view brought other 
 speculations to the mind of our good
 
 64 ATHERTON. | 
 
 lawyer. ^^ I found this place," thought ; 
 he, '^ the abode of peace and comfort, 
 when I came bearing the tidings of this , 
 new wealth to disturb its tranquillity. 
 Can content and wealth keep house to- j 
 gether ? Can a child, so rich, so pretty, 
 so innocent, and so confiding, be triisted | 
 with that simple mother, and that single- j 
 minded grandmother ? The world is full j 
 of snares, even this little world of Ather- , 
 ton. As yet, she had seen nobody more 
 dangerous than the lads of the Eectory, 
 to whom she is probably only a gayer and \ 
 a Tv^lder sister, a playfellow or a play- | 
 thing. But how long will this last ? 
 Money, and the want of money, form half ^ 
 the trials of this life." Money, and the : 
 want of money ! the approximation seemed ; 
 to suggest yet another train of reflections 
 as the chaise threaded the winding village | 
 street, and passed thi'ough the richly- 
 worked iron gates, and between the 
 stately lodges of Atherton Park.
 
 ATHERTON. 65 
 
 Even in a Noyember night that fine 
 scenery retained its characteristic beauty. 
 The moon, almost at the full, shed a 
 silvery light upon the dewy lawns ; just 
 touching the brown tops of the huge oaks, 
 that stood out as headlands or promon- 
 tories from the deep woods, which stretched 
 up the hills on either side ; or flinging a 
 dark shadow from the clumps of holly, 
 hawthorn, birch, and beech, which, min- 
 gled with single trees, dotted the fore- 
 ground. Just beneath the eye, a broad 
 stream was crossed by a low bridge of 
 several arches, and after many windings, 
 swelled out in the lower portion of the 
 park, into a picturesque lake. 
 
 Half-way up the ascent, the mansion, a 
 noble Palladian structure of white stone, 
 lay bathed in the moonshine. The long 
 colonnades which joined the centre to the 
 wings, and the deep-pillared portico, with 
 its rich Corinthian capitals, which swept 
 
 YOL. I, F
 
 66 ATHERTON. 
 
 down by broad fliglits of steps to the ter- 
 race, and its massive balustrade, gave 
 back the light J&:om pediment to capital, 
 from capital to basement, almost as vividly 
 as at noon-day. A lime-tree avenue, 
 leading to other lodges, just showed 
 through a vista its high-arched branches 
 and chequered ground. The faint odours 
 of the decaying leaves marked the season, 
 and the peculiar scent of a group of tower- 
 ing Lombardy poplars, which rose like 
 columns on a point of land near the 
 bridge, literally perfumed the air. 
 
 Perfect tranquillity was the character- 
 istic of the scene. Here and there a 
 majestic swan seemed sleeping on the 
 water, or a single deer, startled by the 
 sound of the rumbling vehicle, darted 
 from its bed of withered fern, under 
 some gnarled and twisted hawthorn, 
 to bound across the la^vn. All else 
 seemed at rest; and the house, when.
 
 ATHERTON. 67 
 
 after half-an-hour's^ drive, the traveller 
 reached it, might have passed for unin- 
 habited. Such, however, was not the 
 case. The visitor was clearly expected. 
 At the first sound of the wheels, a light 
 appeared in the hall ; and before the pos- 
 tilion had rung the bell, two servants 
 flung open the folding doors, and ushered 
 him into the half-lighted library, where 
 father and son advanced to meet him. 
 
 f2
 
 68 ATHERTON. 
 
 CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 Father and son, the two gentlemen to 
 whom Mr. Langhton was conducted, evi- 
 dently were. In point of figure, tall, erect, 
 and stately, — they might almost have 
 passed for brothers ; in face, too, the re- 
 semblance was most striking. It was the 
 same head in youth and in age. The 
 general expression was alike in both — 
 grave, thoughtful, calm, and aristocratic. 
 But the guest soon perceived, a peculiar 
 look in the elder man — worn, anxious, 
 distressed, which seemed to have added
 
 ATHERTONo 69 
 
 ten years to his age in as many weeks ; 
 deepening the lines about the month and 
 on the pale forehead; converting into a 
 permanent frown that which before de- 
 noted only pensiveness ; sinking his eyes 
 deep under their brows, and robbing them 
 of gaiety and sweetness; thinning and 
 whitening the hair, which three months 
 before had been as brown and as glossy as 
 the crisp curls of his son. 
 
 As he grasped the hand of his old Mend 
 and schoolfellow. Lord Delancy exclaimed: 
 
 '^ You have no good news for me, Ste- 
 phen, or youwould have come here earlier. 
 You would have come before the time," 
 continued he, as Mr. Langhton, transfer- 
 ring the Froissart from one arm to the 
 other, began taking out his watch ; ^^ I 
 know it is the hour that I mentioned, but 
 with good news you would have flown." 
 
 ^^!N;ay, my dear lord, I am here as soon 
 as I thought it likely that I should find you
 
 70 ATHERTON. 
 
 and my young friend. And for my news, 
 that is no worse than it needs must be. 
 You yourself had little doubt but Sir 
 Vivian was the real holder of the mort- 
 gages?" 
 
 " And now it is sure?" 
 
 A sad shake of the head — for a shake of 
 the head may be afiirmative, and when so 
 is always sad — was the only answer. 
 
 ^*A11 the mortgages?" interposed 
 Major Delancy. 
 
 '' All," was the' reply. '' He has con- 
 trived to buy up every security, although 
 some dated as far back as your great- 
 grandfather's time." 
 
 '' Well, dear father, surely it is good to 
 know this ; good to have no more struggle ; 
 good to have done at once with a losing 
 fight ; good to relinquish for ever a false 
 position. Let the estates be given up. I 
 am ready to sign whatever papers may be 
 necessary. There may be such; for I
 
 ATHERTON. 71 
 
 remember once, this man (and for that I 
 thank him) gave me credit for ratifying all 
 that you had promised, and advanced a 
 large sum, without waiting for my signa- 
 ture. That at least proved him not quite 
 a stranger to the blood of the — " 
 
 " Oh ! my son, my son ! to ruin such a 
 son ! " 
 
 "Nay, my dear father, hear me out. 
 Let all be done at once ; all given up, all 
 sold, all paid. Surely the proceeds — " 
 
 " Will not be sufficient to pay Langh- 
 ton's bill," exclaimed Lord Delancy. 
 
 " Pshaw ! my biU ! Wait till I ask for 
 it," interjected the lawyer. 
 
 " And of other debts than these mort- 
 gages, you know," proceeded Arthur, 
 "that you have wisely kept clear. No 
 honest tradesmen will be ruined by our 
 ruin. The proceeds of such personal pro- 
 perty as has never been put in pledge, 
 will, I firmly believe, defray every just
 
 72 ATHERTON. 
 
 claim, and leave enough for the purchase 
 of such an annuity as will maintain you in 
 comfort and in independence. Or if not, 
 let us dispose of my commission. The 
 world does not want ways by which a 
 young and healthy man may win an 
 honourable livelihood. Even in the midst 
 of this new peace, my own bad trade is 
 not without its prospects. Let me go as a 
 volunteer to India, to South America — 
 wherever warfare flourishes — and you will 
 see that I shall prosper as others have done 
 before me. Only let all be given up at 
 once, and trust me, we shall be happier 
 and richer than we have been during this 
 miserable struggle against an overwhelm- 
 ing destiny. Only let all be given up." 
 
 " To him ! " exclaimed Lord Delancy, 
 suddenly pausing in the rapid wall: up and 
 down the room, by which ho had been 
 striving to throw off some of the imtation 
 which shook the bodily frame even to
 
 ATHERTON. 73 
 
 agony. '^ Yield to him the home of my 
 fathers ! disinherit for him a son of whom 
 the noblest of my ancestors might have 
 been proud ! Transfer to him my attached 
 tenants, my affectionate peasantry ! Make 
 him the master here, where, bred and fos- 
 tered like a child of the house, he raised 
 his hand against the son of his benefactor ! 
 He left this place vowing eternal grati- 
 tude. See," continued he, throwing a 
 tattered letter upon the table ; " I found 
 that scrawl the other day. The very ink 
 has faded, as refusing to perpetuate pro- 
 fessions so false ! the paper has crumbled 
 away like liis promises. He left this 
 house poor and abject; he returned to it 
 rich and insolent." 
 
 '^ You disappointed him, my dear lord. 
 He left you a sickly child, never likely to 
 survive the trials of school, and the tempta- 
 tions of college. He expected to find you 
 dead, and there you stood, tall and stout,
 
 74 XTHERTON. 
 
 on the point of marriage to the prettiest 
 woman in the county." 
 
 ^^ Poor Helen ! she feared him as an evil 
 spirit.'' 
 
 '^ She disappointed him too. He ex- 
 pected her to throw over the man of her 
 heart, as fine a young fellow in those days 
 as Arthur is now, in favour of a rival as 
 dry and gnarled and yellow as a bamboo- 
 cane." 
 
 ^ ' Poor, poor Helen ! That rivalship was 
 her first grief, and his threats, vague and 
 worthless as they seemed then, not only 
 embittered but shortened her life." 
 
 '' Your good father," resumed LordDe- 
 lancy, again pausing in his walk, '^ always 
 said that as a child, a mere child, I had 
 once offended this cousin, then a youth; 
 and that his hatred dated from that 
 hour." 
 
 '^ For my part," returned Stephen, " I 
 firmly believe that the hatred and the love
 
 ATHERTON. 76 
 
 were both subservient to the ambition. 
 He courted Helen Aubrey, in the hope of 
 preventing your marriage, whilst he ac- 
 complished his own, taking the chance of 
 your throwing yourself into dissipation, or 
 in any event not speedily settling, so that 
 he might still retain his place as heir- 
 presumptive to the title. The duel had 
 the same object in view ; whilst this affair 
 of the will and of the mortgages, is still a 
 step in the same direction. He can't get 
 the old barony ; so he'll be content with 
 the old estates." 
 
 '^ He has only to live long enough," 
 observed Arthur, ^' and he may be the 
 possessor of both ; for I do not think my 
 dear father likely to marry, and I am per- 
 fectly certain that I never shall." 
 
 " Phew ! phew ! " whistled the old law- 
 yer, a most incredulous whistle it was. 
 "Live to my age before you make a vow 
 of celibacy, and don't be too sure of keep- 
 ing it then.".
 
 76 ATHERTON. 
 
 ^^ Sir Vivian may soon resume his place 
 in the Peerage, as heir-presumptive," 
 said Lord Delancy. ^' When the new 
 owner takes possession of the mansion, 
 the old master will find room in the family 
 vault." 
 
 ^^ Dear father!" 
 
 "Lord Delancy!" 
 
 And the one speaker led him affection- 
 ately to a seat : whilst the other instinc- 
 tively laid a strong grip on the travelling- 
 pistols, which, mixed with other loose 
 baggage, the servants had thrown on one 
 of the tables. 
 
 " ]N'ay, Stephen, you may spare that 
 precaution — I had no intention to alarm 
 you, my dear son. But more men die of 
 a broken heart than we read of in the bills 
 of mortality. And to think that my own 
 obstinacy and improvidence should have 
 aided this man's villainy, to disinherit 
 such a son as Arthur, might kill a stronger 
 man than I."
 
 ATHEETOX. 77 
 
 " I will not listen to such words, dear 
 father ! '' 
 
 " Nor I," quoth Stephen. " Besides, I 
 have a remedy in my head." 
 
 '' Do you remember, Arthui'," said his 
 father, " the beautiful group of witch-elms 
 on the west lawn ? Artists used to travel 
 from London to sketch them. There was 
 a tradition that under them the family 
 plate had been buried in Cromwell's time, 
 when, what with sieges, fires, and seques- 
 trations, our declension began. "Well ! 
 the tallest of these trees was stricken, 
 they tell me, by the great gale this equi- 
 nox — " 
 
 '^ And falling luckily," interrupted Ste- 
 phen, '' against the tree next in point of 
 size, and nearest in point of situation, 
 was propped by that friendly supporter; 
 so that it has been found possible to re- 
 place the noble tree, (you know how 
 clever a fellow Lawson the woodman is !)
 
 78 ATHERTON. 
 
 and there it stands, the goodly witch-elm, 
 as fii'mly rooted as ever. Omen for omen, 
 my good lord ! Mrs. Bell and Katy, to 
 the full as superstitious as yourself, went 
 to see it yesterday. They told me the 
 whole story but now." 
 
 Lord Delancy shook his head, as unwil- 
 ling to accept the augury. The son and 
 the friend gazed for a moment on that 
 other noble tree, which seemed quivering 
 to its fall. Their eyes met. But Ste- 
 phen's tone had lost nothing of its cheer- 
 fulness, as he exclaimed suddenly : 
 
 " Apropos to Mrs. Bell's tea-table, where 
 I heard this news, you seem to forget that 
 neither you nor Arthur have taken any 
 dinner, and that I myself, although fresh 
 from that region of hospitality, shall be 
 none the worse for a cutlet and a glass of wine. 
 I have a project for you, my good friends, 
 for both of you, and for that determined 
 bachelor, Master Arthur, in particular ; a
 
 ATHERTON. 79 
 
 project to propose, and a story to tell. But 
 not a syllable shall you hear until you have 
 taken some refreshment. Besides which, 
 this affair of the mortgage is in no such 
 hurry. Some impertinent wit has said 
 that 4uckily law always takes time to do 
 justice.' Now I append to that, speaking 
 in honour of the mistress whom I serve, 
 that to commit injustice. Law also takes 
 her leisure. The notice of foreclosure is 
 not served yet. And after that, we have 
 six months good. Let us go to dinner ; 
 after which we can talk matters over 
 calmly. Some very strange events have 
 occurred within these few days, events 
 altering the prospects of some of these 
 good folks at Atherton not a little." 
 
 " Good folks of Atherton !" cried 
 Arthur. " What can that mean ? Our 
 friends of the Eectory ?" 
 
 *^ Ha ! I am glad to see that you have 
 sense enough to be curious, Major. They
 
 80 ATHEETON. 
 
 call curiosity a female passion, but I call 
 it a search after knowledge, and would not 
 give up my right to a fair share of so good 
 a quality to any woman in the world. 
 However, you must keep your spirit of 
 inquiry under subordination for the pre- 
 sent, for not a syllable shall youhear until 
 dinner be fairly past.'' 
 
 ^'Eelentings on the part of your 
 cousin !" quoth Mr. Langhton, some two 
 hours after the foregoing conversation, 
 when a few glasses of champagne had 
 brought a little blood into Lord Delancy's 
 cheeks, '^ sales to some other party ! 
 Pshaw ! he has your title-deeds as closely 
 locked up as his own heart. No, my plan 
 has nothing to do with mortgages or 
 parchments. It bears a far more attrac- 
 tive form. Wliat do you think of matri- 
 mony, Arthur ? A man is never so near 
 to becoming a bridegroom as when he has 
 just made a vow to die a bachelor. What
 
 ATHERTOX. 81 
 
 say those excellent reporters, the dra- 
 matists? Look into all the eases from 
 Benedick downward. My proposal is 
 neither more nor less than a pretty young 
 wife." 
 
 The suddenness of this announce- 
 ment startled both his hearers, trans- 
 ferring to Arthur's countenance the 
 paleness which had before overspread 
 his father's. 
 
 " You have often said, my dear boy, 
 that you would do anything in the wide 
 world to avert this misery. And I fully 
 believe you, for all that lay in your power 
 in the way of self-sacrifice, you have done. 
 If you had not broken the entail to pursue 
 this long law chase, the estates here and 
 in the north, would have been preserved 
 to you. Of you, therefore, I feel certain. 
 What I have to ask on your part, my dear 
 lordj is the sacrifice of a little pride of birth 
 and alliance. Nothing else. For besides 
 VOL, I. a
 
 82 ATHERTON. 
 
 that the money, far more than enough to 
 clear every debt, is absolutely in my own 
 hands, the little heiress through whom 
 it must be won, is as good, and as pretty, 
 and as certain to grace your old coronet, 
 as if she were a duke's daughter." 
 
 And then he told the story of Katy's 
 legacy, and how the thought of a marriage 
 between the two young people, each of 
 whom had undergone so strange a transi- 
 tion of fortune, had darted into his thoughts. 
 His strong feeling for both parties lent 
 truth and earnestness to the manner in 
 which he set forth his project ; oversetting 
 with much dexterity. Lord Delancy's 
 objections, and opposing with charac- 
 teristic skiU the portrait of Sir Vivian, 
 lord of Atherton, to that of dear, good 
 Mrs. Bell, loud, ruddy, vulgar, and fine, 
 as the mother of his daughter-in-law, 
 a picture from which the fastidious 
 gentleman shrank with instinctive repug- 
 nance.
 
 ATHEBTON. 83 
 
 "Never mind Mrs. Bell," quoth our 
 friend Stephen, " I'll answer for hernever 
 speaking three sentences in your lordship's 
 presence. Besides, I'll get Mary Osborne 
 to dress her. That little woman, my part- 
 ner's wife, is a jewel. She is to get a 
 governess for Katy. Never trouble your- 
 self about Mrs. BeU. Think of Mrs. 
 Warner. Sweet old Mi*s. Warner ! fair, 
 delicate, and simple as a female Friend ; 
 fit at this very moment to take her place 
 in your picture gallery. And Katy, think 
 of her; Eeynolds might have painted 
 them both. Indeed, they are exactly 
 the pure English beauties that he did 
 paint." 
 
 " Eemember though," added he, as 
 they rose to take cojffee in the library, 
 " that I cannot promise my gallant friend 
 here more than a chance of the young 
 heiress. But considering all things, the 
 hereditary respect for the family ; the 
 
 G 2
 
 84 ATHERTON. 
 
 habit of thinking Atherton Hall a finer 
 place than Chatsworth, and Lord Delancy 
 a greater man than the Duke of Devon- 
 shire; remembering also the advantages 
 of military distinction, and military bear- 
 ing, to say nothing of other good gifts ; 
 and, above all, considering the prodigious 
 power of opportunity, and of being the 
 first to pour sweet truths into the fair 
 lady's car; putting together, T say, all 
 these elements of success, I entertain very 
 little doubt of carrying off the prize." 
 
 ^* A word with you," said Arthur, 
 stopping Mr. Langhton, as they followed 
 Lord Delancy through the hall, "one 
 word." 
 
 " iN'ot if it be an objection," replied the 
 solicitor. " Are you too possessed of the 
 devil called Pride ?" 
 
 " Pride, situated as we are ! " said 
 Arthur. " But this marriage, which after 
 all is mercenary ? this availing ourselves
 
 ATHERTON. 85 
 
 of a position which is totally changed ? of 
 advantages which are vanished ? My 
 dear father, carried away by his notions of 
 family dignity, and by paternal partiality, 
 does not see this ; but you — '^ 
 
 '' Be quite sure that every particular of 
 your situation shall be made known to 
 ]\Irs. "Warner before to-morrow night. 
 And be sure, also, that with her feeling 
 towards you and my good lord, the pros- 
 pect that this wealth may prevent the 
 great wrong that would otherwise take 
 place, will be one of the consolations for 
 the dangerous change in her sweet child's 
 destiny. Both she and Mrs. Bell expres- 
 sed strong alarm at the chance of her 
 falling into the hands of some one who 
 would look down upon her, or teach her 
 to look down on them. They Avill seek 
 for nothing but high character in Katy's 
 husband. Neither shall I. And I never 
 gave so strong a proof of my respect and
 
 86 ATHERTON. 
 
 esteem, as well as my affection, as when I 
 selected you as the happy man. Have 
 you any other objection to offer ?" 
 
 '^ Only my utter averseness to the mar- 
 riage state." 
 
 " Averseness ! Does that mean a fancy 
 for another woman? Are you in love? 
 Are you engaged ?" 
 
 " 'No, upon my honour ; I am as free as 
 yourself." 
 
 " So much the better. If you had been 
 engaged — " 
 
 *' I tell you, No. But to marry this 
 young gii'l merely for her money — " 
 
 " Pshaw ! pshaw 1 a romantic scruple 
 like that is an anachronism in these days. 
 Leave me to take care of my ward. Look 
 at your father. Four hours ago, I would 
 not have insured his life for a month; 
 and now the very chance of escaping from 
 the venom of that cold-blooded Indian 
 snake, has acted upon him like the fabled
 
 ATHERTON. 87 
 
 elixir. You, too, are fitted for another 
 age, with your hatreds and your deli- 
 cacies. But just think of him, and of all 
 the sacrifices you have made, and do not 
 render them vain by starting off at last. 
 Sacrifice ! '' exclaimed he with enthusiasm, 
 ^' I ought to be hanged for using the word 
 in connection with the brightest and 
 sweetest little rosebud that ever blossomed 
 in a country garden. And you ought to 
 be hanged if you are not over head and 
 ears in love with her before three months 
 are past. Take the word of an old man 
 who has seen a good deal of this best of all 
 possible worlds, and has had occasion to 
 observe pretty often that in fulfilling our 
 duties at the expense of our fancies, we 
 are generally sure to be rewarded even in 
 this life. Would not any one think I was 
 urging you to marry the TJrganda of a 
 fairytale?" 
 
 ^^ I don't care for beauty," interrupted 
 Arthur."
 
 88 ATHERTON. 
 
 ^^I do/' said his companion, "in com- 
 mon with most men. And you will be a 
 person of a singular taste if you do not 
 think her beauty of a very attractive sort. 
 Now let us go to your father. I have a 
 present for him in his way and mine ; a 
 choice old book, picked up for a song. I 
 did not dare produce it before ; but by 
 this time, thanks to our project, he'll be 
 able to look at and enjoy it. Is not this 
 worth something, Master Mercenary ?"
 
 ATHERTON, 89 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 HE IR-HXJN TING. 
 
 On his return to town, one of Mr. 
 Langhton's fii'st visits was to the abode of 
 his partner, Mr. Osborne, a clever man of 
 five-and-thirty, who, originally an articled 
 clerk in the house, had been taken into 
 the firm without money, on the strength 
 of his abilities and his character — points 
 in which the senior partner was seldom 
 mistaken. A year or two before he had 
 taken to himself the questionable luxury 
 of a wife ; and our old bachelor, fond, 
 after his fashion, of James Osborne, and
 
 90 ATHKETON. 
 
 accustomed to command his society at 
 breakfast and dinner, grumbled over a 
 measure which thi-eatened to deprive him 
 of his company during many a quiet 
 evening in Norfolk Street. "Kow/' 
 thought he, with the grunt of a deeply- 
 injui'ed man, ^^ he'll be going home." 
 
 Matters were not greatly mended when 
 he found that Mr. Osborne made of his 
 young wife a universal authority and 
 referee in all matters extra-legal, even 
 when they seemed most unfit for a wearer 
 of petticoats. If Mr. Langhton happened 
 to inquire : 
 
 ^^What did that De Bry fetch at 
 Evans's ? " the answer was : 
 
 " rU ask Mary." 
 
 If, " What can I have done with the 
 Dugdale?" 
 
 ^^Mary can tell." 
 
 Mary could get an authentic copy 
 of the Ban of the Empire. Mary
 
 ATHERTON. 91 
 
 knew where to send for the score of the 
 *^ Kequiem." 
 
 The clouds began to disperse when Ste- 
 phen discovered that Mrs. Osborne really 
 knew those things of which her husband 
 boasted, and she did not; and the sky- 
 grew quite clear when he heard from his 
 housekeeper that his Kendal pudding was 
 made from her recipe, and that his warm 
 winter hose were knitted in the charity 
 school of her father's parish ; in short, that 
 she was not that odious thing, a female 
 Encyclopaedia, but an observing and in- 
 telligent woman, who knew where to 
 find knowledge, and considered no trouble 
 too great, no object too small, so that it 
 enabled her to gi'atify her husband's 
 friend. 
 
 '^ She's a clever little body," thought 
 our friend ; and wiU have performed my 
 commission, if anybody can, and found 
 me a governess who will teach dear Katy
 
 92 ATHERTON. 
 
 to conceal the adorable ignorance which 
 would affront this accomplished age ; and 
 fill at the same time, the part of adviser- 
 general at the farm. To think that it 
 should fall to my lot to conduct a whole 
 feminine household ; I, who have always 
 eschewed the company of women ! and to 
 have the disposal of a great heiress — I, an 
 old bachelor of fifty-seven ! Poor, pretty 
 Katy ! I wish Arthur Delancy liked her 
 better. But he's a noble fellow, and the 
 love will come in time. She cannot choose 
 but like him ; she who has seen nothing 
 better than the Glenham boys, and the 
 clodhoppers of the village." 
 
 This meditation brought him to the taste- 
 ful cottage at Chelsea, where his partner 
 had fixed his abode. He found Mrs. 
 Osborne, and lost no time in inquiring if 
 her search had been successful. 
 
 " Yes, I know such a person," replied 
 his hostess, with rather more hesitation
 
 ATHERTOX. 93 
 
 than was usual with her; '' exactly such 
 a person as you desire." 
 
 ^'Well?" 
 
 " And she has requested me to look out 
 for a family in want of a governess." 
 
 " Well, then, send for her directly." 
 
 " There is not far to send. Sir ; she is in 
 this very house. But she is my old school- 
 fellow and very dear fiiend ; and I cannot 
 bear to think of her filling a dependent 
 situation. She is the orphan daughter of 
 an officer. Her father and her only brother 
 died shortly after each other ; her mother 
 she had lost before; and an aunt with 
 whom she went to reside, turning out that 
 terrrible thing, a match-maker." (Here 
 Mr. Langhton winced a little, and uttered 
 an audible grunt, so that the fair speaker 
 interrupted her narration.) '' Surely, dear 
 Sir, you have no love of husband-hunting 
 chaperons, who hawk about poor gii'ls for 
 the highest bidder?''
 
 94 ATHERTON. 
 
 "None whatever. But as to match- 
 making, that is a different matter. There 
 are matchmakers and matchmakers, as 
 Moliere^s Sganarelle says of faggots. Go 
 on with your story." 
 
 " Well, finding herself put up to sale, 
 and her aunt indignant at her refusal of a 
 man utterly unworthy of her, poor Honor 
 wrote to me, requestiag me to inquire for 
 a situation as governess — any situation, 
 the more retired the better, where she 
 might earn an honest living. And here 
 she has been for the last three weeks, 
 during which time, Sii', we have seen too 
 little of you, or I am sure you would like 
 her." 
 
 " You mean Miss Clive, my dear ? I 
 do Hke her, and I like her spirit. She 
 will be much happier with good Mrs. War- 
 ner, than with all the husband-hunting 
 aunts in the world. She'll be the very 
 person to form Katy. Those soft, gentle
 
 ATHBRTON. ~ 95 
 
 manners are just what we want at the 
 Great Farm." 
 
 " And she is so good, Sir," said Mrs. 
 Osborne, much gratified by this approba- 
 tion. " Mind, manners, and temper are 
 equally excellent. As for her accomplish- 
 ments — " 
 
 '^ Spare me the emuneration: good sense, 
 good principles, and good temper, are what 
 we want. The fewer accomplishments the 
 better for my little rustic. The new for- 
 tune will be disadvantage enough. Do not 
 let us add new knowledge. Nothing is so 
 bad as an attempt at acquiring that which 
 there is no time to learn. It is combining 
 pretence and pretension. Engage Miss 
 Olive, of course, not as a governess, but as 
 a friend. I give you carte- blanche as to 
 salary." 
 
 " But, dear sir, I know her well, and 
 am confident that she will not accept more 
 than is right and usual. You will find
 
 96 ATHERTON. 
 
 her an untractable person on certain 
 points." 
 
 ^' I shall like her all the better. How 
 could this aunt of hers venture to propose 
 an unworthy marriage to such a woman ! 
 I leave you, my dear, to arrange matters 
 for me. Contrive, if you can, that Miss 
 Clive should be ready to accompany me to 
 Atherton as soon as may be after my re- 
 turn from Buckinghamshire," 
 
 The good la^vyer's expedition to Buck- 
 inghamshire was another branch of the 
 duties thrown upon him by this execu- 
 torship. 
 
 During his absence, an artificer, cun- 
 ning in the miser's paraphernalia of false 
 bottoms and secret drawers ; springs that 
 no eye could detect, and locks that no 
 hand could open, disclosed in the deepest 
 profundity of an iron chest, a cavity filled 
 with bank-notes and bills, at once more 
 portable and more negotiable than the
 
 ATHERTON. 97 
 
 bulkier bonds, mortgages, and title-deeds 
 which crammed almost to bursting the 
 upper part of the coffer. Strange is the 
 contrast of these yellow parchments and 
 discoloured papers, ghastly representatives 
 of wealth, to the hoards on which our an- 
 cestors delighted to luxuriate: the kingly 
 coin, stately with its crowned impress ; the 
 heavy ingots of gKttering silver or virgin 
 gold; the ropes of pearl; the dazzling 
 heaps of precious stones, ruby, topaz, ame- 
 thyst, emerald, sapphire, diamond ; such 
 were the rich sights on which the misers 
 of Massinger and Ben Jonson gloated. 
 Those great old poets would have scorned 
 this unimaginative age, where Mammon, 
 stripped of all his gorgeous accessories, 
 shows himself in all his naked deformity, 
 barely covered by a sordid panoply of rags. 
 In that innermost receptacle of the 
 money-chest, so cunningly hidden, were 
 two or three papers, wliich seemed at first 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 5^5 ATHERTON. 
 
 to have small reference to the cheques and 
 bank-bills by which they were surrounded. 
 Their pecuniary value was indeed very 
 trifling. The first document was an old 
 almanac of the year 177 — . The others 
 consisted of two or three notes, of which 
 the writer was evidently a woman, ad- 
 dressed to Mr. Eichard Strange, and signed 
 E. Brown; a note of hand for twenty 
 pounds, bearing the signature of John 
 Brown ; and the rough copy of a letter, at 
 once a declaration of love and a proposal 
 of marriage, to which, on perusal of one of 
 the notes, was a gentle refusal. 
 
 Here was a curious episode in a miser's 
 life. The rough draft of the love-letter 
 was brief and characteristic, but not inelo- 
 quent. True feeling always finds true 
 words. Very real must that passion have 
 been which induced Eichard Strange to 
 offer his hand to a girl evidently without 
 fortune, and induced him to name her de-
 
 ATHERTON. 99 
 
 scendants the heirs of so large a portion of 
 his riches, after an interval of nearly fifty 
 years. The notes signed "E. Brown" 
 were dated Weston; but that address, 
 which indeed they already possessed, was 
 the only indication to be gained from this 
 love hoard. The almanac at first appeai'ed 
 to bear no relation to the event. But in 
 the months of July and August were found 
 small marginal notes, such as "Walked in 
 the woods with Betsy." " Bought a keep- 
 sake for Betsy." '^ Wrote to Betsy." And 
 on the succeeding day was a final note, 
 summed up in two brief words : — ^* Went 
 away." 
 
 Our old bachelor sighed over those brief 
 words, sympathizing the rather with the 
 sufiering, that the suJfferer had abstained 
 from all complaint, even to that mute con- 
 fidant, the almanac. How different might 
 his life have been had that offer been ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 ATHERTOX. 
 
 Turning to his ovm. business^ Mr. 
 Langhton felt that no fiu-ther revelation 
 was to be expected from the testator's 
 papers. Advertising was his only hope. 
 Indeed, the moment the cavity was dis- 
 covered, Mr. Osborne had multiplied adver- 
 tisements, thicker and wider, in almost 
 every newspaper in town and country. 
 These advertisements were, as usual, fruit- 
 ful in answers. The !N'orfolk Street post- 
 man bent under their weight, and doubted 
 whether Valentine's Day had not come 
 before its time. 
 
 Every "Weston in England had produced 
 its record of John or Elizabctli Brown. 
 Some a John ; some an Elizabeth ; some 
 both. Here they were christened ; here 
 married ; here buried. The good law^'er 
 groaned in spiiit; the rather that the 
 indications were so slight that it would be 
 almost impossible for the most practised 
 and subtle tracer of genealogies to follow
 
 ATHERTOX. 101 
 
 such a trail. However, as tlie Bucking- 
 hamshire Weston (Cowper s Weston) of- 
 fered the nearest approach to the family 
 group which he dimly guessed at, a John 
 Brown ha^dng been married, and an Eliza- 
 beth Brown christened there about twenty 
 years before the date of the almanac, ho 
 resolved to undertake the journey; uncon- 
 sciously, perhaps, influenced by a desire to 
 examine the scenery of the ^^Task," a 
 poem which, in its purely English feelings, 
 its homeliness, and its teachings, appealed 
 strongly to his sympathies and his pre- 
 judices. 
 
 Upon liis arrival at the little inn he 
 found that it was already the object of no 
 unfrequent pilgrimage. 
 
 " Old inhabitant, Sii' ?" quoth a voluble 
 waiter. ^^ Mr. Cowper of course. Plenty 
 of people who remember him hereabouts. 
 Yery shy, Sir ! But very kind-hearted." 
 
 Here Stephen attempted to interpose a 
 word.
 
 102 ATHERTON. 
 
 "Parish Clerk, Sir! No use, Sir! 
 Won't find Mr. Cowper in the Eegister. 
 Gentleman came last summer, and hunted 
 it all through. Was not bom here. Sir ! 
 Was never married ! and died many a 
 good mile away, poor gentleman. Not in 
 the Eegister I assure you." 
 
 Again Mr. Langhton tried to explain 
 his wants. 
 
 " Not Mr. Cowper, Sir ! Not the great 
 poet ! Eless me, Sir ! People of the 
 name of Brown? Yes, Sir. I'll ask 
 directly. Would you not like to look at 
 Mr. Cowper's house, meanwhile. Sir? 
 Get you a boy in a minute. All the boys 
 know the way. Want to know about the 
 Browns, and to see the old people ? Yes, 
 Sir. Directly, Sir. Plenty of old women, 
 Sir ; know two close by. Sir, who have 
 lived here all their lives. Mr. Cowper, 
 poor gentleman, was very good to one of 
 them, and so were Mr. Hayley, and Mr.
 
 ATHERTON. 103 
 
 Johnson. Fetch them, Su'? Yes, Sir. 
 They shall be here as soon as you have 
 eaten yonr dinner, Sir. Broiled fowl 
 and mushrooms. Sir? Yes, Sii'. In a 
 jifly, Sir." 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Langhton having ascer- 
 tained that the clerk could only tell him 
 what the Eegister told ; and that the 
 cramped, uneven signature of the bride- 
 groom therein, bore no sort of resem- 
 blance to the bold characters of the John 
 Brown in the note of hand, did actually, 
 in spite of his disclaimer to the waiter, 
 solace himself by a visit to the house 
 which the poet loved so well, and which 
 drew from him perhaps the most pathetic 
 letter on record — that in which he recog- 
 nizes his own malady by the touching 
 words, " I will forget that a letter from 
 me can only be regarded as a curiosity." 
 
 Musing over the sad mystery of that 
 strange affliction ; the alternations of
 
 104 ATHERTON. 
 
 darkness and light, the enchanting play- 
 fulness of the letters, and Hay ley's affect- 
 ing narrative of the long, miserable years 
 that preceded his death, a story full of 
 wilder contrasts and deeper poetry than 
 any which the poor poet ever wi'ote, our 
 friend forgot how time went, and found 
 the little waiter much propitiated by the 
 length of his absence, and a glimpse of 
 the volume which he carried in his hand. 
 
 '^Dinner ready? Yes, Sir. Got quite 
 cold. Warm it in a trice, Sii', Thought 
 you'd never come here without visiting 
 the Poet's house, Sii'. A good deal 
 chanped, but something left still, Sir. 
 Thought you'd visit the old walks, and 
 the Hall, Sir. Talk of taking it down, 
 Sii*. Glad you came fii'st. Got the old 
 women ? Yes, Sir. See them nov,-. Sir ? 
 Before dinner? Yes, Sir." 
 
 And he produced two crones, who in 
 point of age might have officiated as wit-
 
 AlkERTON. 105 
 
 nesses, or if needful, as bridesmaids at 
 John Brown's wedding seventy years 
 before. Their examination nearly drove 
 our friend Stephen crazy. One was para- 
 lytic, the other deaf. 
 
 The palsied hag was possessed with one 
 single idea (her Brunonian theory) of a 
 Jesse Brown, whom she had known in 
 her youth, and who lay buried in the 
 churchyard, having died when a promising 
 youth, '^ foui'teen year old and a bittock." 
 Apparently he was alone in his genera- 
 tion ; for to every question respecting his 
 probable kith and kin, father, mother, 
 brother, sisters, uncle, aunt or cousin, 
 every possible owner of the desired chris- 
 tian names, she returned no better answer 
 than a stolid ^'No." Whilst her brisker 
 partner was so deaf that she would hardly 
 have heard a pistol fired at her ear, could 
 not read, and all the shouting of the en- 
 raged lawyer and his ally the waiter, who
 
 106 ATHERTON. 
 
 brought all his powers of speech to bear 
 on the object, failed to drive into her head 
 the sound of Brown, or of any other mono- 
 syllable, proximate or remote. The old 
 woman looked, and was thoroughly mysti- 
 fied. At last a bright illumination flashed 
 upon her. The one name of the place 
 sprang from her lips : 
 
 "Ay, Sir, of course. Mister Cowper ! 
 Nobody can tell you more of him, 
 poor gentleman. I chared for Madame 
 Unwin — " 
 
 What might be the exclamation that 
 escaped from her hearer she heard not, 
 nor need we inquii-e. JN'ever was Stephen 
 Langhton known to swear before or siQce. 
 And if in that moment the words were 
 naughty, the proYOcation was great. 
 One thing is certaia: that flinging his 
 tormentors half-a-crown apiece, he drove 
 back to London, determined, for the health 
 of his soul and body, to eschew personal
 
 I 
 
 ATHERTON. 107 
 
 encounters with chattering waiters and 
 stupid old women; and to refer the in- 
 quiiy to the geniuses of the Chancery 
 Court or the Herald's Office, who can 
 track a genealogy for half a century, 
 through no clearer indications than a torn 
 letter or a defaced tombstone. The race 
 of Detectives had not yet found a name, 
 but the speciality has never been wanting. 
 And our friend, both as a man of the 
 world, and a great London lawyer, had a 
 faith that nothing could remain secret in 
 the face of a large reward. "This is a 
 question of supply and demand," thought 
 he, " money wants Betsy Brown, and 
 money must find her."
 
 108 ATHERTOX. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LCT. THE XEW8 OF ATHERTON. 
 
 Our story returns to the Great Farm at 
 the moment of the discovery. 
 
 The news of Katy's legacy spread like 
 wildfire through the village of Atherton. 
 In spite of her mother's quarrel TNdth Mrs. 
 Glenham, the good grandmother- had a 
 deep respect for her pastor, as well for his 
 character as his office; as, indeed, no 
 sounder scholar or better man ever edited 
 a play of Euripides. She fully intended 
 to call upon him the next morning and 
 carry herself the grand intelligence ; but 
 long before Mi*. Langhton had left her lit •
 
 ATHERTON. 109 
 
 tie parlour, the story was patent in every 
 comer of the place, the Eectory included. 
 
 Indeed, when we remember that Rachel 
 and her undermaidens, the rosy-cheeked 
 Sally, and Dinah the plump dairy-girl, 
 were present at its announcement, the 
 wonder would have been if it had remained 
 a secret. 
 
 Eachel, half beside herself with delight, 
 could not help giving vent to her ecstas^' 
 to her old fellow- servant, Joseph Stokes, 
 as he sate gravely discussing his bargain 
 with the dealer; and thereupon, between 
 joy and gin-toddy, Joseph was beguiled 
 into the very worst exchange of sheep for 
 homed cattle that he ever made in his 
 life. 
 
 Sally, the belle of the village, communi- 
 cated the intelligence to two village beaux 
 who paid homage to her rosy cheeks ; a 
 young carpenter and a younger black- 
 smith, jointly engaged in repairing a 
 plough.
 
 110 ATHERTON. 
 
 Dinah naturally told her tidings to the 
 herdsman who drove the cows to the milk- 
 ing and the lad who helped her to milk. 
 
 Joseph told barnsmen, ploughmen, shep- 
 herds, and boys ; and his little grandson, 
 Jacob, who had picked up the news from 
 the very first without any telling at all — 
 to use his own phrase, " promiscuous like," 
 — little Jacob told everybody. 
 
 If verification were needed, it was sup- 
 plied by Mrs. Bell herself, who sallied forth 
 from the parlour, bearing a bottle in either 
 hand, followed by her daughter with sugai- 
 and lemons, bent on compounding a noble 
 bowl of punch, such a bowl as had not 
 been seen at the Great Farm since Katy's 
 christening. 
 
 At the "Eight Bells," at the "De- 
 lancy Ai-ms," at the shop, at the forge, 
 nothing was talked of that night but Katy's 
 legacy. And considering the general aver- 
 sion which is said to prevail in our poor
 
 ATHERTON. Ill 
 
 human nature, towards the good fortune 
 that alights on other people's heads, and 
 misses our own, it is creditable to our vil- 
 lagers to be able to record that they bore 
 the glad tidings with fortitude and resig- 
 nation. 
 
 ]Mrs. Warner's constant charity — charity 
 of thought and speech, as well as of action 
 — contributed doubtless to this result. It 
 is difficult to speak evil of one who never 
 says an unkind word of others. But that 
 which most conciliated goodwill, was the 
 universal impression of the young heii'ess's 
 open hand. 
 
 " Well, little Miss is not so bad.'' 
 
 " I know no harm of she^ 
 
 " I don't think she takes after her 
 mother.'' 
 
 (Dear IVIrs.Bell played in this interlude 
 the part of Alcibiades' dog's tail.) 
 
 " She'll not steal the bread from a poor 
 creature's mouth."
 
 112 ATHERTON. 
 
 " She's good to body and beast." 
 Such were the general exclamations. 
 And Katy vindicated the justice of public 
 opinion in Atherton that very night ; for 
 after stuffing Flora with as much cream 
 and buttered toast as that overfed 
 favourite, who had never in her life 
 known the pleasant sensation of a little 
 gentle hunger, could be prevailed upon to 
 swallow; she rescued her own particular 
 attendant, Jacob Stokes, from the dangers 
 of the punch-bowl, and seduced him into 
 the stable, where they jointly committed 
 petty larceny by opening certain bins of 
 oats and beans well known to both, and 
 bestowing a large benevolence of these 
 luxuries, first on her own pony, next on 
 Jacob's donkey, (formerly Katy's, but 
 presented to Jacob when she and her side- 
 saddle were promoted to her present 
 steed) ; then indiscriminately to all the 
 horses within reach of the accomplices.
 
 ATHERTOX. 113 
 
 After which they finished their evening's 
 expedition by running down the lane to 
 Dame Barnes's cottage, with such a basket 
 of pro^dsions, that the good woman de- 
 clared that she and her three little grand- 
 children should not get through it in a 
 week. 
 
 "To think," added she, "that Miss 
 should haye promised me a new gown ! 
 that in the midst of all this grandeur she 
 should recollect a poor old creature that 
 can only pray God to bless her !" 
 
 Perhaps Katy's happiest moment in 
 that first night of almost boundless afflu- 
 ence, was this brief visit to Dame 
 Barnes's hut. 
 
 The news reached the Eectory after the 
 zig-zag fashion peculiar to country places, 
 and with the exaggerations and variations 
 common to all places, whether city or vil- 
 lage. 
 
 The gardener, to adopt his own version^ 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 . ATHERTON. 
 
 " happened to caU at the ' Eight BeUs,' '' 
 (he happened to call at one alehouse or 
 another on most evenings), ^' and there 
 he heard it was quite true, however 
 strange it sounded, that Miss Katy had 
 become a queen. He did not know of 
 what foreign parts, but a queen she was, 
 and with more money than the Queen of 
 Sheba." 
 
 N.B. It is just possible that the pet 
 name bestowed upon her long ago by Mr. 
 Langhton had something to say to that 
 accession of dignity. 
 
 Mrs. Glenham laughed in scorn. 
 
 Then the housemaid went for a ball of 
 cotton to the shop, and brought word back 
 that, Lord Delancy's titles and estates had 
 fallen to Mrs. Warner. — Strange it is to 
 trace those rumours that float in the air 
 like thistle-down ; pregnant warnings of 
 the calamities of great houses ! 
 
 Mrs. Glenham remained incredulous.
 
 ATHERTON. 115 
 
 Next the carpenter brought at once a 
 new bootjack and the real story, as he 
 had received it from Sally, an ear- 
 witness. 
 
 The Eector's lady, faithful to her 
 doubts, began yet to suspect that some 
 grains of truth might be mixed up with a 
 mass of falsehood. 
 
 At last, the Eector's churchwarden, an 
 intelligent man, and a native of Atherton, 
 coming in to leave some papers, confirmed 
 and explained the intelligence. He him- 
 self knew Mr. Strange, and was aware of 
 the relationship; he had even heard, 
 moreover, of his wealth. Besides, the 
 quarter from whence the intelligence 
 came, removed all possibility of error. 
 Mr. Langhton was the most accui-ate of 
 men ; one who had never uttered an un- 
 truth or made a mistake in his whole 
 existence. 
 
 Mrs. Glenham was astounded. This 
 
 i2
 
 116 ATHERTON. 
 
 was the little girl whose influence over her 
 eldest son, the pride of her heart, she had 
 so much dreaded. Ever since she had dis- 
 covered certain stanzas to Laui*a, enclosed 
 to her address, and had observed that his 
 walks and rides, whichever way they 
 seemed to tend on leaving home, invari- 
 ably ended at the Great Farm, she had 
 exerted all her address to keep the young 
 people asunder. Her only comfort had 
 been that the Laura of his rhymes seemed 
 quite unconscious of the ardent poet's 
 devotion, and in all theii' walks and 
 parties, preferred the wild gaiety of 
 Charles. She had expended all her skill 
 and contrivance in parting those whom she 
 would now give ten years of her life to 
 bring together. It was just one of the 
 reproofs so often administered by events 
 to om- wisest plans ; and Mrs. Glenham, a 
 clever woman, somewhat tinged by world- 
 liness, but by no means the worthless fine
 
 ATHERTON. 117 
 
 lady that Mrs. Bell thought her, felt its 
 full force. In this mood she repaired to 
 her husband's study. 
 
 • There sat he, kindest and simplest of 
 men, surrounded by his books, in the midst 
 of various editions and German commenta- 
 tators, intent upon a much-disputed pas- 
 sage in a chorus of the Troades, and very 
 unwilling to be disturbed, even if the 
 house were on fire. 
 
 ' -Upon my word. Dr. Glenhara,'' said his 
 provoked lady, when she had twice poured 
 her tale into unlistening ears; ^4t is a 
 great pity that you ever left Cambridge. 
 You are fit for nothing but to be a Fellow 
 of a College and a Greek Professor." 
 
 " It is a pity,'' was the reply, delivered 
 with provoking simplicity. '* A College 
 Fellowship is free from distiu'bance and 
 care ; and to have succeeded Person would 
 have been a noble destiny — I beg your 
 pardon, my dear ; I believe you have been
 
 118 ATHERTON. 
 
 talking to me/' continued he, with retiim- 
 ing recollection ; and when he at last 
 caught the sense of her narrative, she had 
 no cause to complaiQ of any want Of 
 interest in the subject. 
 
 They talked it over in all its bearings, 
 and the affectionate manner in which the 
 good Eector spoke of the parishioners 
 upon whom so trying a change of fortune 
 had fallen so suddenly, emboldened JVIrs. 
 Glenham to say: 
 
 ^^ Ay, now it would have been better for 
 all parties, if we had encoui^aged Harry's 
 admiration for our young fiiend. Her 
 fortune — '' 
 
 ^' Harry is to be a Fellow of a College, 
 Mrs. Glenham," interrupted the Doctor, 
 now thoroughly awakened to the realities 
 of life, and asserting, with a manliness 
 which became him well, the resolve of a 
 most upright and honoui-able natui-e. 
 " He has got King's, and must follow his
 
 ATHERTON. 119 
 
 career at Cambridge, a career for which he 
 is well fitted. In due time he may, if he 
 see fit, take a living and settle. But as to 
 the nonsense of which you speak, the love 
 and the love-songs, why they have no 
 more vitality than the sickly autumn rose 
 which you are twirling in your hand, or 
 the dead leaves which are falling from the 
 great oak upon the window sill. If I were 
 not sure of this, I would give instant 
 notice to Mrs. Warner ; as it is, I shall 
 speak to Harry. I would rather see liim 
 the husband of the poorest girl in the 
 village than that he should take advantage 
 of my position as clergyman of the parish, 
 and an old family friend, to pay his court 
 to the rich heiress. It is our place to pro- 
 tect this young girl in a situation of 
 temptation and danger, not to betray her 
 into an unsuitable attachment. And now, 
 my dear, go to your daughters, and leave 
 me to the tragedy which earned for Euri-
 
 120 ATHERTOX. 
 
 pides the title of the most pathetic of 
 poets/' 
 
 In all her life Mrs. Glenham had never 
 seen her husband so determined. The 
 only comfort was, that being a woman who 
 had walked through the world with her 
 eyes open, she had observed that in these 
 cases a little opposition is no bad fosterer 
 of love, and trusted that her son Harry 
 might prove no exception to the perversity 
 of his kind. 
 
 Meanwhile the year rolled on towards 
 its conclusion. Lord Delancy and his son 
 spent a fortnight at the Hall before sepa- 
 rating, the one for his regiment, the other 
 for London. The father's heart was 
 lightened, and the daily improvement in 
 his health and spirits cheered and com- 
 forted the young soldier. 
 
 Before three days had passed, her noble 
 landlord had not failed to visit Mrs. 
 Waiiier, and to become, as far as her shy-
 
 ATHERTON. 121 
 
 ness and the recollection of the cherry- 
 tree would permit, familiar with the 
 young heiress. His air and figure and 
 stately bearing made a good deal against 
 the intimacy which he wished to establish, 
 especially whilst they remained in the 
 little parloui', where both he and the 
 Major looked, as Katy afterwards ob- 
 served, too tall for the room. His lordship 
 returned the compliment, by declaring 
 that poof ]\Irs. Bell was too broad for that 
 small apartment, and looked in her new 
 mourning not unlike a blackbird in a gold- 
 finch's cage. 
 
 Out of doors matters mended ; and in 
 spite of the season. Lord Delancy took 
 care to lui'e Katy out of doors, to visit her 
 bantams, to look at her pony, and to show 
 her a young greyhound which he had 
 brought fi'om the Hall, a beautiful creature 
 of that peculiar hue, which coursers, as he 
 remarked, are sure to miscall, sometimes 
 yellow, sometimes red.
 
 122 ATHERTON. 
 
 '' She has no name yet. What shall she 
 be called, Miss Warner?" 
 
 Katy did not speak ; indeed, she had 
 hardly ventured to say more than yes or 
 no. But she gathered a flower from a 
 lingering plant of African Marigold, 
 which yet retained its richly-tinctured 
 blossoms in a southern nook, and laid the 
 clusteiing petals on the glossy head, which, 
 with imfailing instinct, had already sought 
 her caressing hand. K'ever were colours 
 more perfectly matched. 
 
 The father was enchanted, and even 
 Arthur smiled at the unspoken reply. 
 
 ^'Marigold by all means. A capital 
 name. And see, j\Iiss Warner, you have 
 chosen her name, and she has chosen her 
 mistress. You must not reject her. The 
 moment I can get away fi'om London we 
 will have a day's coursing in the Park. 
 See, Mrs. Bell, how she lies down at her 
 fair mistress's feet, as if to take posses- 
 sion."
 
 ATHEETON. 123 
 
 '^ My father does not mean Marigold to 
 supplant my friend Flora/' added Arthur, 
 for Flora, with similar instinct, had made 
 her court to him ; "that in my mind would 
 be a sin. The old favourite is sacred as 
 the old friend. But where the heart is 
 large, as I am sure yours is, we can find 
 room for new friends and new favourites. 
 Mrs. Warner says that Flora is too fat to 
 keep pace with your walks and rides ; so 
 Marigold must be the out-door pet, whilst 
 Flora retains her place on the hearth.'' 
 
 And !Mrs. Bell with many words, and 
 Katy with smiles and blushes, accepted the 
 gift. 
 
 An excellent excuse was this playful and 
 graceful creature for frequent visits from 
 the Hall. During which familiar inter- 
 course Lord Delancy grew as fond of Katy 
 as if she had been already his daughter, 
 whilst an unexpected intimacy sprang up 
 between Arthur, by no means so formid-
 
 124 ATHERTON. 
 
 able a personage as he looked, and Mrs. 
 Bell. He could hardly prefer her society 
 to her daughter's, except, indeed, as a 
 person whom he could by no chance be 
 called upon to marry; but so it was, that 
 while his father courted Katy for him, he 
 paid suit and service to the comely ^\ddow, 
 with whom he laughed and chatted for 
 houi's together. She repaid this devotion 
 with interest. 
 
 '^ There is nobody like the Major," 
 quoth she, ^' nobody in all the world. To 
 think of my having been such a fool as to 
 be afraid of him. He has just sent this 
 beautiful collar for Marigold ; only look ! 
 it's exactly like a silver bit. And hearken 
 to the little bells ; she won't know where 
 the sound comes from. And her name and 
 Katy's on the padlock; a real dog's neck- 
 lace. Katy, you don't look lialf grateful 
 enough ; not near so grateful as I was to 
 you for that noble team of horses and their
 
 ATHERTON. 125 
 
 bells. And I know what the Major is 
 going to do besides." 
 
 ^^Well," said Katy, more cuiions than 
 she chose to appear, ^' what ?'' 
 
 '^ Only if I tell you, you will say that I 
 cannot keep a secret." 
 
 ^^ Dear mamma, if it be really a secret, 
 don't tell." 
 
 '' Xobody told me. Suppose — " 
 
 '' WeU, but if it be a secret—" 
 
 " I found it out, I tell you. Suppose he 
 has got a new horse for you, and is going 
 to train it himself. What do you say to 
 that ?' 
 
 Katy listened and blushed, like a woman. 
 Then, like a child as she was, burst into 
 sudden laughter, clapped her hands, and 
 danced about the room, whilst her mother 
 nodded in triumph, and Mrs. Warner, 
 evidently Mr. Langhton's accomplice, 
 looked on 'with pleased approbation. 
 
 So matters stood at Atherton, when its 
 noble master left the Hall.
 
 126 ATHERTON. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE GOVERNESS. 
 
 Another fortnight brought a more per- 
 manent visitor to the Farm. At the close 
 of a short December day, Miss Clive 
 arrived with Mr. Langhton. 
 
 All girls receive with some trepidation 
 that alarming functionary, a governess ; 
 and it is probable that she who causes the 
 fear, often feels herself a deeper emotion 
 than she inspires. 
 
 Under the peculiar circumstances, all 
 the ladies of the Farm were a little anxious, 
 or, to use Mrs. Bell's phrase, more graphic 
 than elegant, "in a flurry."
 
 ATHERTON. l27 
 
 Mrs. Warner's head shook more than 
 usual as she received the stranger ; Mrs. 
 Bell poured forth questions and hospitali- 
 ties without stint or measure ; and Katy's 
 cheeks, always bright, glowed like damask 
 roses. Except a little paleness, the gover- 
 ness gave no outward sign of disturbance. 
 She had suffered too much not to be per- 
 fect in the great lesson of self-command. 
 
 ^'How do you like her?" asked Mr. 
 Langhton of Mrs. Warner, when the 
 younger ladies had taken her to show her 
 her own apartment, and to adjust her dress. 
 " What do you think of her ? " 
 
 '' I think she looks good." 
 
 ^^ And pretty?" 
 
 The old lady hesitated. 
 
 " Ah ! I see that you do not. Neither 
 did I at first, delicate, and graceful, and 
 elegant as she is. To be sure, by the 
 side of that bright little queen of ours, 
 everything is dim. But you will think 
 her pretty by-and-bye."
 
 128 ATHERTON. 
 
 " She must be much better than pretty 
 to have won your heart so entirely," said 
 Mrs. Warner. 
 
 "She will soon win yours; of that I am 
 certain. By the way, when she came in, 
 she was a little shaken. She did not 
 know, till I showed her the Hall, that 
 Lord Delancy had a place here ; and it 
 seems that she knew him, or some of his 
 family — I think his sister-in-law. Lady 
 Cardonnel — in happier days. She was 
 half-inclined to go back again. The only 
 weakness that I have detected in her, is a 
 shrinking from the recognition of old 
 acquaintances. You know she was an 
 officer's daughter, and lost her father and 
 her only brother within six months of 
 each other. I told her the family was 
 absent, and you must contrive before their 
 return to make her feel that she belongs 
 to you." 
 
 "We shall try," said Mrs. Warner.
 
 ATHEETOX. 129 
 
 " And she must take us, young and old, 
 under her wing ; for I suspect that the 
 mamma and grandmamma are more taken 
 aback by this great change than the 
 heiress hersel£ But this young lady, who 
 seems so simple and gentle, with all her 
 elegance, will put us in the way." 
 
 Before the end of the evening, Mr. 
 Langhton had the satisfaction to find 
 Katy's shyness disappear, and to see her 
 seated on her old footstool, at the feet of 
 her new friend. 
 
 ^'Do not call me Miss Warner, pray," 
 said she ; '^ I do not know myself by that 
 name. CaU me Katy." 
 
 '' Must I call you Katy ?" was the reply. 
 " And suppose I were to make a condition, 
 and ask you to call me Honor?" 
 
 " Honor ! " exclaimed Mrs. Bell. 
 
 '^ Honora is the real name — not uncom- 
 mon in Ireland, where my mother was bom. 
 But Honor has been my pet name, — my 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 
 
 ATHERTON. 
 
 home name ; and it is to the home name 
 that the heart answers. '^ 
 
 " We used to christen children after the 
 virtues," said the old lady ; and it was a 
 good practice to remind them of their 
 duties." 
 
 ** Ay," said Mr. Langhton^ "such names 
 abound in those fertile records of manners, 
 the old comic writers, not always to edifi- 
 cation. That very name of Honor, for 
 instance, has been immortalized in Field- 
 ing's great novel. But the Puritans 
 chiefly affected those appellations; and 
 from them the custom has prevailed 
 amongst their American descendants. 
 Faith, Hope, and Chai'ity are common in 
 New England, to say nothing of Prudence 
 and Patience." 
 
 "We have a Patience in Atherton," 
 observed Mrs. Bell ; " the greatest scold 
 in the parish — Patience Pratt. People 
 call her her Patty Pratt, and pretend that
 
 ATHERTON. 131 
 
 her name is Martha ; but Patience she 
 was christened, though the name has done 
 her little good enough, as her husband 
 knows to his cost. If a woman is bom to 
 be a vixen, it does not signify what you 
 caU her." 
 
 " I shall hold by Honor, though," said 
 Katy. " Honor is a noble name, mamma. 
 I love it dearly." 
 
 And the poor governess felt that her 
 pupil was already her friend. 
 
 The stone hall opened into the front 
 passage, and another door, exactly oppo- 
 site, led into an apartment of equal dimen- 
 sions ; which, cold, dreary, and formal- 
 looking in its stiff and scanty plenishing, 
 its faded carpet, covering only half the 
 floor; its dark mahogany furniture; its 
 small Pembroke tables; its chairs and 
 settees, covered with white dimity, had 
 yet in height, and size, and aspect, all 
 that was required to convert the dismal 
 
 k 2
 
 132 ATHERTON. 
 
 best parlour into the pleasant, cheerful, 
 family room. 
 
 Honor discovered this capability before 
 breakfast on the morning after her arrival; 
 and discovered also another passagCj at 
 right angles with the first, which led by 
 an old-fashioned glass door into the pretty 
 court, half turf, half flower-bed, which 
 swept round two sides of the house ; 
 parted from the kitchen-garden by a yew 
 hedge, over which appeared rows of es- 
 paliers and groves of orchard trees, a 
 very forest of pear, apple, cherry, plum, 
 medlar, and walnut. 
 
 In the centre of the grass-plot, before 
 the glass door, surrounded by a narrow 
 border of mould, was an old 'sun-dial, 
 beneath which still lingered some of 
 Katy's beloved flowers. There knelt 
 Katy herself, trying to compose a little 
 bunch of such as yet remained, small 
 spikes of mignonette and winter violets,
 
 ATHERTOX. 133 
 
 and singing in a fresh, round voice, a 
 voice youthftd and blooming as lier 
 cheeks, words new to Honor, but which 
 would have enraptured the heart of Mrs. 
 Glenham. It was an old Irish air, to 
 which, with more feeling for the music 
 than the metre, these irregular lines had 
 been adapted : 
 
 '' Good morrow! good morrow ! soft, rosy, and bright, 
 Glow the clouds in the east, laughing heralds of light ; 
 Whilst still, as the glorious colours decay, 
 Full gushes of music seem tracking their way. 
 
 Hark ! hark ! 
 Is it the sheep bell among the ling ? 
 Or the early milkmaid carolling? 
 
 Hark ! hark ! 
 
 Or is it the lark 
 As he bids the sun good-morrow ? " 
 
 On hearing Honor's step, the singer 
 paused suddenly, and flew to present her 
 little nosegay. They entered the house 
 together ; and when, after breakfast, Mr. 
 Langhton requested commissions for Lon-
 
 134 ATHERTON. 
 
 don, and Honor had, by a delicate ques- 
 tion, suggested to Mrs. Warner the new- 
 furnishing the pleasant best parlour, to 
 which Mr. Langhton added a proposal to 
 convert the stone hall into a dining room ; 
 she said, to his surprise and pleasure : 
 
 " Be sure amongst the new purchases 
 not to forget a piano." 
 
 "Ah! you have relented in your own 
 favour. I thought so." 
 
 ''I have relented for the general good. 
 If you had been by the old sun-dial this 
 morning — " 
 
 " Why, Katy ? Stop, my queen !' ' for 
 the little damsel showed symptoms of run- 
 ning away. "Are you the songstress? 
 lN"ay, I must hear you." 
 
 " I will accompany you," said Honor, 
 moving to fetch her guitar. And laugh- 
 ing, stopping, and beginning afresh, they 
 got through the stanza. 
 
 " Is not there another verse ?" enquired
 
 I 
 
 ATHERTON. 135 
 
 -Mr. Langhton, after due praise of the 
 singer. ^^ Where did you pick up the 
 song?" 
 
 "Harry Glenham taught me," replied 
 Katy, with the most open simplicity. ^ ' He 
 wrote that stanza one day when we were 
 talking of the lark flying upward every 
 morning, as if to bid the sun good-mor- 
 row. He wrote that yerse to some old 
 air, and taught me to sing it ; and he 
 talked of finishing the song some day or 
 other. He often does begin things, and 
 talks of finishing them. Harry is idle. 
 His brother says that all poets are so; 
 that it belongs to their trade. He's very 
 good-natured though," continued Katy, 
 "and I like him." 
 
 If Mrs. Glenham had heard the tone in 
 which these words were spoken, she would 
 have despaired. It quite reassured the 
 careful guardian, who had begun to think 
 that singing Harry Glenham's songs
 
 136 ATHERTON. 
 
 might put Artlrnr Delancy's interests in 
 jeopardy. 
 
 This discoyery of Katy's musical talent 
 was no small comfort to her governess, 
 who, new to teaching, had justly dreaded 
 the invidious task of instructing one 
 equally new to the process of being 
 taught. "Now the lesson assumed the 
 pleasant form of amusement. 
 
 Herself an accomplished and enthu- 
 siastic musician, she had brought with her 
 a goodly collection of vocal music, both 
 printed and manuscript, and in talking 
 over the books, and playing on the guitar 
 such airs as her young pupil wished to 
 hear, the hours glided by, easily to both 
 parties, happily to one ; to the other they 
 were too full of association to be without 
 pain. 
 
 Many languages found a place in this 
 miscellaneous collection, French, Italian, 
 German, Spanish, even Latin was there in
 
 ATHERTON. 137 
 
 the shape of portions of the grand masses 
 of the Church of Eome ; and to Honor's 
 great amazement, and a little to her 
 amusement, Katy, whose ignorance of all 
 modern tongues was so complete that 
 she had not distinguished one language 
 from the other, seized on a fine piece of 
 Church music, and began picking out the 
 words with a certain apprehension of the 
 meaning, and a sonorous English pronun- 
 ciation which would have horrified the 
 Italian composer. 
 
 "You know Latin, Katy ?'' 
 
 "Only a very little," said Katy, pro- 
 ducing a well-thumbed Eton grammar. 
 " Harry wanted to teach me ; but I soon 
 got tired, and mamma said it was boyish, 
 and grandmamma looked ready to laugh, 
 so I left off. The last time the boys were 
 at home they read to me, which I like a 
 great deal better than learning lessons, and 
 what I like I recollect. When I don't care 
 for a thing I forget it."
 
 138 ATHERTON. 
 
 Here was another lesson in education. 
 Scott and Sliakspeare were pleasant text- 
 books, and much history and geography 
 were conveyed to the mind, in company 
 with such thoughts and such creations as 
 awakened every faculty in that fresh and 
 healthful nature. Poetry, above all, she 
 delighted in ; and poetry, real poetry, be- 
 sides the facts it leads to, is the finest 
 form of truth. So, reading with her pupil, 
 singing with her, walking with her, talk- 
 ing with her, loving her, passed Honora's 
 days. 
 
 The graver and the sadder business of 
 life held on its way. Christmas brought 
 to Lord Delancy the thi-eatened notice of 
 foreclosure unless the mortgages were re- 
 deemed within six months. Separate 
 notices were also sent to the several tenants 
 on his various estates, to pay no more rent 
 after that period to him or to his agents. 
 
 The commotion occasioned by a proceed-
 
 ATHERTON. 139 
 
 ing so unexpected equalled that caused by 
 Mr. Strange' s will. It took a form of re- 
 gret and affection honourable to all parties. 
 The nobleman, so proud and even haughty 
 with his equals, had been, as proud men 
 often are, most affable and most accessible 
 to his inferiors. Living much in the 
 country and amongst his own people, he 
 knew every farmer and every villager on 
 his extensive property. If he loved his 
 old trees, still better did he love the old 
 faces. An excellent landlord, the farmers 
 were sure of indulgence when it was 
 needed, and of justice, rarest of virtues, 
 always. The tradesman had custom ; the 
 labourer, employment ; the sick, atten- 
 dance; the children, instruction; the old, 
 relief. "When they met, after morning 
 service, in the churchyard, there was a 
 real and a hearty reciprocation of interest 
 in the respectful bows and curtsies which 
 greeted their good lord on every side, and
 
 140 ATHERTON. 
 
 in the pleasant smiles and kindly "words by 
 whicli those rustic greetings were returned. 
 To lose such a Mend would be grief enough, 
 but to lose him for Sir Yivian, the un- 
 grateful kinsman, the treacherous usurper, 
 whom the old tenants remembered and of 
 whom all had heard, would be intolerable. 
 The storm of indignation was universal. 
 iNTobody could believe that English law 
 could tolerate such injustice. They thought 
 the whole story a fabrication. 
 
 Gradually this incredulity assumed a 
 more positive form. The absence of debt, 
 the regularity of payment, the disbelief of 
 the household, and the quiet manner with 
 which, in accordance with Mr. Langhton's 
 advice, the establishment at the Hall had 
 been kept up, without increase or diminu- 
 tion, looked very unlike the proceedings of 
 a ruined man. And the shrewd ones 
 amongst them — Mrs. Glonham, for in- 
 stance — who watched the words of the
 
 ATHERTON. 141 
 
 family at the farm, Katy's anger, her 
 mother's fury, ^Mj-s. Warner's quiet smile, 
 and Stephen Langhton's scornful shrug, 
 might give a tolerable guess as to the 
 manner in which the catastrophe would be 
 averted. So Lord Delancy, on his return 
 to Atherton, found little to remind him of 
 his precarious tenure except an increase of 
 reverence and devotion from all around 
 him; perhaps, to a man of his sensitive 
 temperament, the severest trial that he 
 could encounter. 
 
 By Katy he was greeted with delight, 
 although, to her exceeding disappoint- 
 ment — for, like other spoilt children, she 
 expected all her pets to pet one another — 
 he got no farther with ]\Iiss Clive th,an a 
 ceremonious politeness, which she, shrink- 
 ing from him as from other strangers, re- 
 paid with grave respect. Another subject 
 of lamentation with poor Katy was that 
 great English grievance, the weather. A
 
 142 ATHERTON. 
 
 seasonable frost had set in, and she, longing 
 to see Marigold run, was wishing for an open 
 day as heartily as if she had been the whole 
 Quorn Hunt. To comfort her, Lord De- 
 lancy resolved to turn the frost itself into 
 an amusement, and to have a skating party 
 upon Atherton mere. Lady Cardonnel and 
 Major Delancy were expected on the mor- 
 row, and on the following day, Mrs. Warner, 
 together with the other ladies, promised 
 to attend. A close carriage was to convey 
 her and Mrs. Bell. The young ladies were 
 to walk.
 
 ATHERTON. 143 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE ICE. 
 
 There are wintry days in England which 
 have an indescribable beauty, and this was 
 one. The pervading charm was the work 
 of that great magician Hoar-frost. The 
 morning had been misty, but towards 
 noon the sun appeared, softened by a light 
 haze, which gave a pearly tint to the cloud- 
 less blue sky, and accorded well with the 
 perfect tranquillity of the landscape. Xot 
 a breath of air stirred ; and in the perfect 
 absence of wind, the degree of cold indi- 
 cated by the thermometer was hardly 
 felt.
 
 144 ATIIERTOX. 
 
 There was, however, no tendency to 
 thaw. Eime was everywhere. The finest 
 patch of moss on the irregular park-paling, 
 the lichens that roughened the trunks of 
 the great trees that overhung the road, 
 had each its net- work of delicate tracery. 
 The tawny leaves of the cut-leaved oak, 
 which still hung quivering on the lower 
 branches, were edged with its glittering 
 fringe. The old rugged fir, the leafy beech, 
 the tasselled birch, the bristly holly, the 
 purple bramble, the crisp brown fern, the 
 green grass of the park, all showed their 
 own varied colours and varied forms through 
 the same crystalline medium, contrasting 
 with the rich hues of the holly-berries, 
 the dark ivy-berry dear to the wood- 
 pigeon, and the crimson haws, which the 
 small birds love so well. In the stillness 
 of that woodland scene, the rustle of a 
 robin's wing, the dropping of a leaf from 
 the bushes was distinctly audible.
 
 ATHEETOX. 145 
 
 Thanks to the companionship of Jacob 
 Stokes, Katy knew every bird that visited 
 the hill, or dwelt in the valley; the 
 note, the habits, the nest, the eggs. It is 
 even likely, that had some wicked en- 
 chanter imposed upon her the task of the 
 poor princess in the fairy tale, who was 
 commanded to select each bird's proper 
 feathers from a heap that filled a room, 
 she would have found the labour possible 
 — a mere question of time — so extensive 
 was her knowledge of those winged tribes, 
 and so accurate her observation. 
 
 She pointed out to Honor that most 
 beautiful of British birds, a gorgeous king- 
 fisher, as he stooped to drink at a little 
 rivulet — a tiny spring issuing from beneath 
 the roots of a great beech, which went 
 trickling along almost hidden by coat over 
 coat of thin translucent ice, until it was 
 lost in the winding stream, which, after 
 traversing great part of the park, was 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 ATHERTON. 
 
 merged in its turn in the wide waters of 
 the lake, now entirely frozen. 
 
 Katy's pockets were, as usual, filled 
 with bread and biscuits, which she crum- 
 bled for her feathered clients; who, tamed 
 by the severity of the season, were alter- 
 nately attracted and repelled by their de- 
 sire of sharing in her bounty, and their 
 dread of Marigold, who, adorned in her 
 new collar, and proud of it as a child of a 
 necklace, gambolled round her young mis- 
 tress playful and graceful as a fawn. 
 
 The frozen lake was a pretty sight, with 
 its wooded islands, its mimic bays and 
 promontories, the grand old forest trees 
 between which it swept away into the dis- 
 tance, and the masses of evergreens, laurel, 
 arbutus, cedar, cypress, or the light weeping- 
 birch, or weeping- willow, of the foreground. 
 
 A beautiful sight always was Atherton 
 mere, and on occasion of this wintry festi- 
 val, it put forth signs of habitation such as
 
 ATHERTON. 147 
 
 had not been seen there for many a long 
 day. 
 
 On one of the points of land that jutted 
 into the lake, hanging oyer the water, the 
 lower part a boat-house, and above a rustic 
 payilion, stood an old grey fisliing-house, 
 half covered with ivy and creeping shrubs, 
 backed by dark firs, and flanked on the far- 
 ther side by two poplars of colossal growth 
 and size, columns of vegetable beauty. 
 
 The smoke rose curling from the fishing 
 house, prepared for good Mrs. Warner, in 
 case of her feeling the cold too severe. 
 She had, however, preferred a seat out- 
 side a tent in one of the sheltered bays; 
 and as they approached, the young ladies 
 saw at once that the travellers had ar- 
 rived. 
 
 A large party of gentlemen were on 
 the lower part of the lake, where a group 
 of skaters and a number of country peo- 
 ple had assembled. Lord Delancy with 
 
 L 1
 
 148 ATHERTON. I 
 
 his usual courtesy, having issued a general j 
 invitation to such of the neighbours as | 
 chose to join the sports upon the ice ; the 
 pavilion and marquee being filled with i 
 seats and refreshments for the gentry, 
 and two or three tents in the background 
 amply provided with ale and solid Christ- 
 mas cheer for the villagers. j 
 
 Katy, always shy, held back a little as ; 
 they came near the lake. She dreaded a i 
 stranger. Honor insensibly drew her for- 
 ward. Poor Honor 1 her veil was down ; I 
 but the face was calmer than the heart. 
 Mrs. Bell and an elegant woman of middle j 
 age advanced to meet them ; and with- 
 out suffering her mother to speak, Lady . 
 Cardonnel took Katy's hand. 
 
 ^^ People talk of children growing out 
 of knowledge," said she, "I have not seen 
 those dimpled cheeks these six years, but I 
 should have recognised them anywhere." \ 
 
 And bending graciously to the gover- ;
 
 ATHERTON. 149 
 
 ness, she led the little heiress to a seat 
 next her grandmother. Mrs. Warner, al- 
 ways considerate of the feelings of others, 
 and therefore always well-bred, said : 
 
 " Will your ladyship permit me to pre- 
 sent to you a very dear young friend of 
 ours, whom I believe you to have seen 
 abroad ? Miss Clive, Lady Cardonnel." 
 
 " ^liss Clive ! Honora ! Honor CKre I 
 It is incredible ! it is impossible ! I 
 heard of you, I saw you with the 
 Lynmeres." 
 
 ^'And you find me in a far happier 
 home," said Honor. ^'By-and-by I will 
 tell you the story. At present your lady- 
 ship must play the hostess." And she 
 joined Mrs. Glenham, who introduced her 
 to the wife of a neighbouring clergyman, 
 and talked as people do talk of the weather 
 and the hoar frost, and the park, and 
 the lake, — everything except that of which 
 she was thinking.
 
 150 ATHEETON. 
 
 At last Lady Cardonnel had disposed 
 of her guests. Some walked into the 
 pavilion ; some more daring ventured on 
 the ice, Mrs. "Warner, wrapped in fur 
 cloaks, remained in her old seat, talking 
 over schools of industry with the good 
 Eector, whose secret thoughts ever and 
 anon wandered away to theTroades, and the 
 matchless wailing of those Trojan women. 
 Katy, escorted by Lord Delancy, and ac- 
 companied by her mother, tripped gaily 
 on to join the skaters, occasionally temp- 
 ted from her path by the less aristocratic 
 amu^fcx^ent offered by a troop of sliders 
 led by Jacob Stokes, — the very largest 
 slide she had ever seen. Her mother 
 held her tight lest the temptation might 
 prove too strong for human weakness. 
 And such perhaps it might have been, 
 but for a counter-temptation held out by 
 Lord Delancy, who not only promised her 
 a lesson in skating, but had actually pro-
 
 ATHEETON. 151 
 
 vided himself with a pair of such skates 
 as are used by the country girls in 
 HoUand. 
 
 Lady Cardonnel had led her companion 
 into a retired walk. 
 
 " Xow then, Honor, why are you here ? 
 After that double loss, which all lamented, 
 I heard of you with your aunt. I heard 
 of you as on the point of marriage to Sir 
 Philip Heryey." 
 
 '^ And you believed that report ?" 
 
 ^^Xo. And I can imderstand why, re- 
 fusing such a match as Sir Philip, a 
 residence with the Lynmeres might be- 
 come painful. But why not go to your 
 uncle Eossborough ? Why not come to me ?'' 
 
 ^' Dear Lady Cardonnel !" 
 
 ^' Why go out as a governess ? Why 
 come here?" 
 
 ^' Ah ! tbat I fear was an error. To 
 go as a governess was, I still believe, 
 right and wise. The loss of that dear
 
 152 ATHERTOX. 
 
 father, that dear brother, who were every- 
 thing to me, has left me destitute of 
 means as well as withered in affection. 
 Why should one absolutely penniless 
 shrink from earning her bread by honest 
 labour ? And nowhere could I be more 
 useful or more content than with these 
 kind people. Here, however, I should 
 not have come had I been aware of the 
 chance of meeting any old acquaintance, 
 even you, dear Lady Cardonnel. It seems 
 strange to say, but I had never heard of 
 LordDelancy in connection with Atherton, 
 nor of Atherton in connection with Lord 
 Delancy, until I arrived at the gate of my 
 new dwelling. If spoken of at all, it must 
 --ave been as ^ The Hall,' in contradistinc- 
 tion to 'The Castle.' The name of Delancy 
 first met my ear as I was at the very door 
 of my future residence. Then I endea- 
 voured to prevail on Mr. Langhton to take 
 me back again. I did not tell him all.
 
 ATHEETOX. 153 
 
 And since then I have tried to persuade 
 Mrs. Warner to let me return to town, 
 confessing frankly that I had received 
 much kindness from you, and that my 
 heart was not yet strong enough to meet 
 one who had known me before I was an 
 orphan." 
 
 " And they refused to part with you ?" 
 ^' They would not hear of it. And 
 after all, why should I go ? ^Tiat harm 
 can result from my staying? Xobody 
 knows better than you, that before Major 
 Delancy's attentions to me had produced 
 the natural effect of such attentions from 
 such a man, I had become aware of my 
 own position, and of his. Ah, dearest 
 friend ! how can I ever thank you enough 
 for the frankness which saved me from 
 causing the misery of such a son, and such 
 a father ! Causing and sharing ! I knew 
 that the small portion which I inherited 
 from my mother was no longer mine, since
 
 154 ATHEETON. 
 
 it was urgently needed by my poor brother 
 and my dear father. I knew that Major 
 Delancy was bound by every feeling of 
 duty not to add to his family distress by 
 marrying a portionless wife. I said, no, 
 when he asked me — an absolute, uncondi- 
 tional, unexplained no. What man forgets, 
 what man pardons such a refusal ? And if 
 from my previous conduct he had derived 
 any encouragement, if he had guessed 
 from look, or tone, or word, that his pro- 
 posal would be only too pleasant to me, then 
 a thousand times more will he resent that 
 refusal, since he must attribute my pre- 
 vious manner to heartless coquetry* Since 
 I have been here, I have gathered in a 
 hundred ways from Mr. Langhton and 
 these artless people, that the need of 
 money at the Hall is more urgent than 
 ever, and that a marriage is arranged 
 between the young heiress and the heir. 
 Look at her, and look at me. She is as
 
 ATHERTON. 155 
 
 good as she is pretty, as charming as she is 
 good. Besides, no man ever pardons such 
 a refusal. He Avill but treat me as his 
 father does, with cold civility. I will go to- 
 night if you think it right. Be assured 
 that I will do all I can to promote the 
 match, for they are worthy of each other. 
 But I know that no man ever pardons a 
 refusal without an assigned cause, and I 
 think that I shall promote it best by stay- 
 ing. Do what you will with me, dear 
 Lady Cardonnel. I have told you all. 
 Send me away at once if you see fit." 
 And, paler than ever, Honor ceased. She 
 had poured forth this confession of feeling 
 with an emotion most unusual to her, and 
 stood waiting the decision of her friend, 
 who had listened to her with the deepest 
 sympathy, when a sudden outburst from 
 the lake of many voices— in which cries of 
 distress from Katy, and calls between 
 fright and scolding from Mrs, Bell, were
 
 156 ATHERTOX. 
 
 distinctly audible — put a sudden and un- 
 expected stop to their dialogue. 
 
 They had purposely sought a retired 
 footpath on the opposite side of the mere 
 from that where the pavilion and the tents 
 were situated, and which, although follow- 
 ing the general outline of the water, was 
 yet concealed from it partly by the irregu- 
 larities of the ground, partly by clumps of 
 cedars, and masses of arbutus and Portugal 
 laurel, partly by brakes of hawthorn and 
 holly, the natural growth of the soil. 
 
 If they had not been engrossed by the 
 interest taken by both in the subject of 
 their discourse, they might have discovered 
 from the mingled hum of many voices, and 
 the gay shouts of the country lads, that 
 they were now nearly opposite that part of 
 the lake which for thickness and smooth- 
 ness had been selected by skaters, sliders, 
 and spectators, as the principal scene of 
 the morning's diversion.
 
 ATHERTOX, 
 
 157 
 
 Major Delancy, a splendid skater, after 
 enjoying for a short space the exhilaration 
 of an exercise in wliich he excelled, had 
 with the utmost good humour left a party 
 of the neighbouring gentlemen, who had 
 crossed the downs for the purpose, and with 
 whom he had been executing on the ice 
 the different figures in which proficients 
 delight, in order to give a lesson in the 
 mystery of cutting initials and spread 
 eagles on that glassy surface to Harry and 
 Charles Glenham, and some other youths 
 of their age, when he was summoned by 
 his father to attend Katy and Mrs. Bell. 
 
 About the skating ground, as has been 
 said, the ice was perfectly safe. But far- 
 ther down the mere, the bank, overhung 
 by a large weeping willow, jutted out 
 abruptly, and, probably from a spring 
 which fed the waters, the ice was so 
 much thinner, that the spot had been 
 staked out by tall sticks, surmounted by
 
 158 ATHERTON. 
 
 little red flags in token of danger. The 
 space that was perfectly safe was so exten- 
 sive that there did not appear the slightest 
 cause to apprehend that anybody would 
 stray out of bounds. 
 
 Pets, however, are proverbially wilful. 
 Marigold, after playing every conceivable 
 prank around her mistress on dry ground 
 — chasing the birds in the woodland, 
 jumping after squirrels on the tree-tops, 
 and trying to coax a dappled fawn into a 
 game at romps — had followed her footsteps 
 on the ice; and a little puzzled by the slip- 
 pery smoothness, and daunted at the num- 
 bers assembled, had bounded forward until 
 she reached the interdicted spot, the very 
 point of danger, where the glassy surface, 
 yielding even to her light weight, gave 
 way more and more under her struggles ; 
 the ice sinking as the water rose, until at 
 last the frightened favourite seemed to be 
 totally immersed in the mere.
 
 ATHERTOX. 159 
 
 At tliis moment it was — whilst Katy was 
 darting on to save her pet, and Mrs. Bell 
 screaming to her to desist — that Lady- 
 Card onnel and Honor found themselves on 
 the edge of the lake, a little in advance of 
 the mother and daughter, but still short 
 of the scene of danger. 
 
 ^^ Oh ! Miss Clive, save my Katy ! '* 
 shrieked Mrs. Bell. And Honor, first 
 making a sign to Jacob Stokes, who was 
 as usual close to his young mistress, 
 bounded on the ice, and favoured by their 
 mutual position, was able to seize her young 
 pupil round the waist ; thus checking her 
 first impulse, and gaining time to exert 
 the influence which she, and she only, 
 possessed over that adventurous damsel, 
 and to lead her gently towards her 
 mother. 
 
 ^^ Look, dearest ; the danger is in the 
 numbers who are hurrying to rescue your 
 pretty darling. See ! Harry is on firm
 
 160 ATHERTON. 
 
 ice, and he has got hold of her now. Yes ! 
 he has hold of her collar ; and Charles, 
 with his arms round his brother's waist, is 
 steadying Harry." 
 
 A rush of people came between, 
 and the girls lost sight of the scene of 
 danger. But a tenible cry announced 
 that the ice had given way under one at 
 least of the eager boys. Deadly peril was 
 in every glimpse they caught, and in every 
 sound they heard. Their senses reeled 
 with the suspense and the fear, which 
 seemed prolonging moments into hours. 
 
 Another rush gave them a view of Major 
 Delancy on the bank, throwing, with all 
 the power of his talFand vigorous frame, a 
 long ladder across the space between the 
 sound ice and the shore. In an instant he 
 had drawn one brother from the dangerous 
 pool, had lent a helping-hand to the other ; 
 and then, clinging to the long shoots of the 
 willow, and making himself a desperate
 
 ATHERTON. 161 
 
 plungej lie reappeared, bearing the imlucky 
 cause of this commotion, the dripping, 
 trembling jVIarigold, under his arm. 
 
 The whole scene passed in a shorter 
 time than has been given to the narration. 
 
 " It was the ladder did it all, dear Dr. 
 Glenham ! " said he, as the agitated father 
 vainly sought to thank him for saving one 
 if not both his boys. " The ladder saved 
 them, under Providence, not I ; and the 
 person who in the midst of this confusion 
 directed me to this same ladder, and 
 would have flung it himself if he had been 
 strong enough, was this good little boy." 
 
 Jacob Stokes, not in general addicted to 
 shyness, stole away from the good Doctor's 
 gifts and praises, as if he had been caught 
 in some misdeed, muttering as he turned 
 over his money — for the Eector had 
 emptied his purse into his hand — ^' that it 
 was Miss who showed him the ladder, and 
 he had no business to be thanked for her 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 ATHERTON. 
 
 doings, nor to take the guineas and half- 
 crowns." 
 
 " My young friends will be the better 
 for a glass of brandy, sir," said Major 
 Delancy to his father; "and so will 
 Dr. Glenham. I am an old campaigner, 
 and know the virtues of cognac. In the 
 meantime, I must take Marigold to Miss 
 Warner." 
 
 " She would have been in the water, 
 too," exclaimed Mrs. Bell, " if it had not 
 been for her good governess, God bless 
 her!" 
 
 And thus, after three years' absence, 
 did Arthur Delancy meet Honor Clive. 
 " Her governess !" He had almost dropt 
 the shivering creature that he held. But 
 Honor had augured justly. The pride of 
 a refused man came to his assistance. He 
 bowed slightly but respectfully, and re- 
 commended transporting the dripping grey 
 hound to the fishing house, where she 
 could be dried before the fire.
 
 ATHERTON, 163 
 
 Honor, to wKom Katy still elung, was 
 at last able to escape to Mrs. Warner and 
 Mrs. Glenham, each of whom had caught 
 the sound of a vague alarm, a rumour of 
 unexplained peril, and both were greatly- 
 solaced by receiving a clear and truthful 
 account of the adventure. There was 
 nothing now amiss except two wet jackets, 
 which had better be changed. 
 
 Mrs, Glenham, eager to see her boys, 
 and Mrs. Warner, desirous not to lose 
 sight of her heedless granddaughter, were 
 encountered at the entrance of the tent by 
 the good Eector and Jacob, anxious to 
 restore to the right owner the praises be- 
 stowed upon himself for discovering the 
 ladder. 
 
 ^^'Twas Miss, there," quoth the boy; 
 ^^ she made a sign to me, and I told the 
 Major." 
 
 Jacob lost nothing with any party by 
 his honesty ; and Mrs. Warner, now for 
 
 M 2
 
 164 ATHERTON. 
 
 the first time hearing from the Doctor 
 Honor's share in holding back Katy, said 
 emphatically — 
 
 ^'I believe, my dear, that there is no 
 good deed in -which you have not a part." 
 
 If Honor had before doubted as to her 
 line of conduct, this confidence would have 
 decided her. 
 
 Nearly at the same moment, a still 
 stronger revulsion took place in another 
 young heart. Harry Glenham had been 
 told by his father the suspicion which he 
 himself entertained of Lord Delancy's de- 
 sire to gain the hand of the heiress for his 
 heir. He had been reminded that he was 
 indebted to his kind patron not merely for 
 a valuable living, but for a key of his 
 magnificent library, the privilege perhaps 
 dearest to him of any on earth ; and for 
 the thousand daily attentions and kind- 
 nesses which sweeten life between country 
 neighbours. The father's appeal had been
 
 ATHERTON. 165 
 
 felt by tlie high-spirited boy, but felt as 
 we all feel "words. What had happened 
 that morning was a living act. As he 
 thanked Major Delancy for the life which 
 he owed to his bold heart and vigorous 
 arm, and as the young soldier pressed his 
 hand and declared that the joy was his, 
 he inwardly vowed to go back to Cam- 
 bridge, bury himself in his studies, and 
 never suffer a thought of his pretty play- 
 fellow to cross his fancy again. 
 
 Is it needful to say that the mother's 
 heart made the same renunciation ?
 
 166 ATHERTOX. 
 
 CHAFTEE X, 
 
 MUSIC BOOKS. 
 
 The arrival of Lady Cardonnel tended 
 mucli to facilitate the intercourse between 
 the Hall and the Farm. The perfect breed- 
 ing of the court lady, and the simplicity 
 of Mrs. Warner, had so much in common^ 
 and, in either case, there was so great a 
 fund of goodness and sincerity, that mu- 
 tual respect and esteem grew up between 
 them. 
 
 Lady Cardonnel, poor Lady Delancy^s 
 favourite sister, was a widow, whose chil- 
 dren — the daughters married, and the sons
 
 ATHERTON. 167 
 
 in the naval, military, and diplomatic ser- 
 vice of their country — were literally scat- 
 tered all over the face of the earth, so that 
 her brother-in-law's house was more her 
 home than any other abode, and his inte- 
 rests as much her own as if they had been 
 united by the ties of blood. She had spent 
 the three years of the occupation of France 
 with her youngest daughter, the wife of 
 an officer in Arthur's regiment, and there 
 she had become sincerely attached to her 
 high-minded nephew, and hardly less so 
 to Honor Clive ; and it was because she 
 loved both so well, that she joined Stephen 
 Langhton in his endeavours to bring about 
 the union with Katy, foreseeing nothing 
 but misery on either side, in the renewal 
 of an affection which would bring ruin to 
 his worldly prospects, and break his 
 father's heart. Her advice to her young 
 friend had been to remain at Atherton, the 
 rather that Major Delancy's manner to her
 
 IG8 ATHERTON. 
 
 was as cold as was consistent with gentle- 
 manly courtesy. If not indifference, it 
 was a resentment so chilling and so perse- 
 vering as to answer the same purpose. 
 
 The good lawyer also was frequently 
 at the Hall, and upon these occasions the 
 two families were brought into still closer 
 connexion. Sometimes they walked to- 
 gether ; sometimes they drove, and then 
 good Mrs. Warner was seduced into join- 
 ing the party : still more frequently the 
 younger ladies rode on horseback. Major 
 Delancyhad redeemed Mrs. Bell's promise, 
 by causing a beautiful mare to be trained 
 tinder his own inspection for her daughter's 
 use. His groom had been seen, equipped 
 with riding-skirt and side-saddle, canter- 
 ing across the park at so wild a rate, that 
 Jacob Stokes, not suspecting the disguise, 
 paid his young mistress the equivocal com- 
 pliment of declaring that it could be no- 
 body but Miss Katy. The creature had
 
 ATHERTON. 169 
 
 become so great a favourite, tliatthe *^ Faery 
 Queen" had been ransacked to find a name 
 to match her grace and symmetry; and as 
 if conscious of the affection lavished upon 
 her, Britomarte seemed never so happy as 
 when cantering with her fair rider over 
 the downs every day and all day long. 
 
 Of course the gentlemen attended at 
 these momiDg rides, and very often the 
 party at the Farm were invited to an un- 
 ceremonious dimmer. In return, the small 
 family at the Hall would drink tea with 
 their humbler neighbours. !N"o influence 
 short of Honor's could have restrained 
 Mrs. Bell's desire to extend to them a far 
 larger portion of hospitality. One day she 
 beheld her turning over the leaves of an 
 ancient-looking cookery book, meditating 
 eggs and bacon in blancmange, and a float- 
 ing island in whipt cream, besides a dozen 
 other rustic luxuries culled from a family 
 collection of choice recipes, and the
 
 170 ATIIEETOX. 
 
 slaiigliter of a hecatomb of poultry, from 
 Katy's pigeons up to the last turkey of 
 the season. Lucky birds ! that talk be- 
 tween Miss Clive and Mrs. Bell saved 
 their lives. 
 
 It was now, to date as Katy did by 
 jflowers, about the time when snowdrops, 
 hepaticas, crocuses, and the winter-aco- 
 nite, were circling round the old sun-dial in 
 the garden, primroses covering the sunny 
 banks, violets perfuming the hedgerows, 
 and daffodils crowding round the orchard 
 trees ; and the usual party were assembled 
 in the pleasant parlour at the Farm, fra- 
 grant with the violets which she had stolen 
 from the park, when Mr. Langhton ad- 
 dressed Katy with a question which seemed 
 innocent enough, but which would have 
 startled a more experienced young lady, 
 as the forenmner of a very unwelcome re- 
 quest. 
 
 ^' Pray, my queen, did you ever get the
 
 ATHERTOX. 171 
 
 remainder of the ^Good-morrow' song 
 from your Atherton poet ? — the idle mem- 
 ber of an idle fraternity, as his brother 
 Charles very justly called him." 
 
 Katy stood up womanfuUy for her poor 
 Mend; and Arthur, who had taken a 
 fancy to the lad from the moment he had 
 pulled him out of the water, as indeed he 
 had done by Marigold (a generous spirit 
 does love those whom it has served), made 
 common cause in his defence. 
 
 Lord Delancy, pleased with everything 
 that tended to bring into closer familiarity 
 the couple whom he so ardently wished to 
 unite, joined in the conversation caused by 
 Mr. Langhton's question, and expressed 
 a desire to hear the song. 
 
 " Xo," replied Katy, '' the song was 
 never finished." And then she repeated 
 the stanza. 
 
 '^ Sing it," said her guardian. 
 
 But Katy blushed and laughed, and 
 looked ^^^N'o," although she did not speak it;
 
 172 ATHERTON. 
 
 she looked, too, as if determined, for once 
 in her life, to be obstinate. 
 
 *^ Sing it, and Miss Clive will accompany 
 you," said her grandmother, as Honor 
 took her seat at the instrument. 
 
 ^^ Sing it, and Miss Clive will help you,'* 
 said Mrs. Bell. *^ Sing it, or we shan't 
 love you." 
 
 ^ ^ Won't you ! " said Katy 's loving, saucy 
 glance, as plainly as ever eye spoke yet. 
 
 ''Sing it, my Katy, if you love me," 
 whispered Honor. 
 
 Katy, unable to resist that adjuration, 
 began; but before she got thi'ough the 
 "Good-morrow," stopped suddenly. Honor, 
 accustomed to her fits of fright, continued 
 the accompaniment for a few bars, and then 
 said to Mr. Langhton — 
 
 '' That burthen seems to have taken hold 
 of Mr. Henry's imagination; for on inquir- 
 ing of Mrs. Glenham if she could furnish 
 us with the remainder of the ' Good-mor- 
 row' song, she produced another, which I
 
 ATHERTON. 173 
 
 have copied into this book. Suppose we 
 try that, Katy ? I think !Mr. Langhton 
 will like the air." And not giving her 
 time to become frightened, she launched 
 her dexterously into the song. 
 
 Give thee good-morrow, busy bee ! 
 
 No cloud is in the sky, 
 The ring-dove skiras across the lea, 
 
 The matin lark soars high ; 
 Gay sunbeams kiss the dewy flower, 
 
 Light breezes stir the tree, 
 And sweet is thine own woodbine bower, — 
 
 Good-morrow, busy bee ! 
 
 Give thee good-even, busy bee I 
 
 The summer day is by, 
 Now droning beetles haunt the lea^ 
 
 And shrieking plovers cry. 
 The light hath paled on leaf and flower, 
 
 The night-wind chills the tree, 
 And thou, well-laden, leav'st thy bower, — 
 
 Good-even, busy bee ! 
 
 The Hall party, to whom Katy's singing 
 was a surprise, were enraptured with the
 
 174 ATHERTON. 
 
 young, fresh voice, and the perfect articu- 
 lation. 
 
 " Is it not as if we were transported to 
 Isaac Walton's times, and were sitting in 
 the meadows by the river Lea, listening to 
 one of the milkmaids ?" inquired the old 
 lawyer of Lord Delancy. 
 
 Like a commentary upon the observa- 
 tion. Honor began playing the symphony 
 of Haydn's beautiful canzonet ^^ My mother 
 bids me bind my hair," which, although 
 not called so, is as fully a pastoral as 
 Isaac Walton's book. 
 
 *^Can you sing any duets. Miss Warner? 
 I am sure you can. Arthur, come here and 
 sing with Miss Warner." 
 
 Arthur had been sitting in the darkest 
 comer of the room, his elbow on a table, 
 and his head leaning on his hand, as if ab- 
 sorbed by the music. 
 
 Honor opened another book at the 
 ^^ Canzonets of Jackson of Exeter," and
 
 I 
 
 ATHERTOX. ]75 
 
 placed " Love, in thine eyes" open before 
 her. 
 
 Again Lord Delancy summoned his son ; 
 and this time he obeyed, going through 
 his task with the skill and taste of a per- 
 fect musician. Katy was again slightly 
 nervous; but Honor, to use Mi's. Bell's 
 phrase, '^helped her," supplying a momen- 
 tary deficiency and concealing a little flaw, 
 much as a professed singing mistress 
 might have done, if ever singing mistress 
 had had so true an interest in her pupil. 
 
 Lady Cardonnel, also summoned to help 
 in ^^0 IN'annie," and other charming part 
 songs, leaned over Honor and whispered : 
 
 ""Will not you sing?" 
 
 " I have never sung, except, as now, a 
 few notes to aid, or an entire air by way of 
 lesson, since I lost him with whom we 
 used to sing at Yalenciennes." 
 
 "Ay," said Lady Cardonnel, "this is 
 the old book ;" and hanging over Colonel
 
 176 ATHERTON. 
 
 Delancy's shoulder, she turned over the 
 leaves and read the titles, ^^ Time has not 
 thinned;" ^^Take, oh take those lips 
 away;" ^' Do not unbind two gentle hearts;" 
 whilst another voice murmured ^^ Poor 
 Lionel !" 
 
 Many weeks had not passed before Katy 
 added some of Mozart's finest duets to her 
 stock: ^'La ci darem," ^'Ah perdona," 
 ^^Ah guarda sorella," and ^^Ti veggo," 
 from "Winter's '^ Eape of Proserpine." It 
 is doubtful whether the delightful expres- 
 sion of her English songs, admirable in 
 articulation and feeling, or the imperfec- 
 tion of her fresh-caught Italian, were most 
 attractive. But a deeper charm than 
 either was to be found in the sympathy 
 for her friend with which she avoided 
 speaking on any subject connected with 
 former performances of this music. She 
 had heard from Lady Cardonnel that Cap- 
 tain Clive, the brother whom Honor loved
 
 ATHERTON. 177 
 
 SO well, had been accustomed to sing with 
 her. She recognised the sort of family 
 likeness which often distinguishes hand- 
 writing in some manuscript German songs. 
 Other MSS. there were also. But Katy 
 had learnt to read the sensibility under 
 the self-command of her governess's cha- 
 racter, and avoided all trying subjects with 
 the tact which is born of the heart. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 178 ATHERTON. 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 SKETCH BOOKS. 
 
 " Let us take anotlier turn under the 
 lime-trees," said Katy to her governess 
 one Sunday afternoon returning from 
 church, when they had reached the end 
 of the fine avenue where the sunbeams 
 played through the half opening leaves, 
 casting a chequered light on the broad 
 gravel road; for by this time cowslips 
 and fiitillaries threw their bright colours 
 on the grass. "Do not let us go in 
 just yet. Mamma will take grandmamma 
 home, and we will follow after one more 
 turn."
 
 ATHERTON. 179 
 
 Mrs. "Warner had been leaning on 
 Honor's arm, and Katy was following 
 side by side "with her mother when she 
 made this proposal. 
 
 " With all my heart," said Mrs. Bell; 
 ^'I cannot have a worse companion than 
 yon, Katy, for you have not spoken a 
 word. What have yon been thinkiQg 
 about?" 
 
 ^^ Nothing, mamma," responded the 
 little beauty, as the four ladies parted, 
 according to her arrangement: ^^^N^othing 
 at aU." 
 
 Now this answer, wliich is in the very 
 spirit of young ladyism, the answer which 
 every girl of sixteen returns by iustinct to 
 that question when conscious that she has 
 been thinking of any object a little too 
 much, was entirely out of Katy's way ; 
 that fair damsel being one who, partly 
 from the indulgence of those about her, 
 partly from natural frankness, had never 
 
 N 2
 
 180 ATHERTON. 
 
 known the weight of a secret in her life. 
 Accordingly, those two simple words, 
 ^'Nothing, mamma," made a strong im- 
 pression upon one at least of her hearers. 
 
 Honor, however, knew that in these 
 cases the best way to get at the truth is 
 not always to ask for it. So she waited ; 
 and after they had walked a short distance 
 arm in arm, a sudden question offered 
 some hint as to the subject of her pupil's 
 meditations. 
 
 "Do you think Major Delancy hand- 
 some ?" said she. 
 
 The answer was such as to encourage a 
 farther confidence. 
 
 " Certainly. I believe that every one 
 thinks him so." 
 
 "I never did till to-day,^' resumed 
 Katy, with her old frankness. "Though, 
 to be sure, I have always been too much 
 afraid of him to stare him in the face. 
 But this afternoon as he sat in the comer
 
 ATHEETON. 181 
 
 of that great chancel pew, with his head 
 thrown back, and his eyes cast down, the 
 light as it streamed through the tall win- 
 dow falling right upon his temple, and the 
 curls pushed away from his high fore- 
 head, I thought that he looked very 
 noble ; calm and kind as a soldier ought 
 to look." 
 
 '^ As a soldier ought to be," observed 
 Honor, '^ and as I believe he is. Nothing 
 can be higher than his character in the 
 regiment. He is beloved by officers and 
 men." 
 
 ^^ Don't you think," continued Katy, 
 " that he is like one of the heads in your 
 Yasari, those grand old heads of the 
 sculptors and paiaters, which are to a 
 certain extent alike ?" 
 
 " Perhaps so. We will look them over 
 when we get home." 
 
 '- Though, why they should be like a 
 soldier — "
 
 182 ATHERTON. 
 
 " Except," intemipted Honor, " that 
 they were soldiers of a nobler army — art 
 that creates, not war that destroys. And 
 I that say this am a soldier's daughter,'' 
 added she, smiling ; " but it is the truth, 
 or that which I believe to be so." 
 
 Just then the object of their praise, his 
 father, and Lady Cardonnel were seen com- 
 ing up the avenue, with Dr. and Mrs. 
 Glenham, for whom they had waited. 
 Katy's shyness returned at the sight, and 
 but for Honor's better judgment, she would 
 certainly have run away home. On meet- 
 ing the party, Lord Delancy took imme- 
 diate possession of the young heiress, and 
 offering her his arm, insisted on her accom- 
 panying them to the Hall. 
 
 " We are old-fashioned people," said he, 
 " and dine at luncheon time on Sundays ; 
 and Dr. and Mrs. Glenham have had the 
 goodness to return with us to coffee. I am 
 to show her some fine German and Italian
 
 ATHEETOJf. 183 
 
 prints. They are mostly on Scripture sub- 
 jects, and would please Mrs. "Warner. 
 Don't you think that if Arthur should 
 drive the pony-chaise to the farm, he might 
 prevail on her and Mrs. Bell to join 
 us ? At all events, I shall detain you as 
 a hostage." 
 
 And overcoming her feeble show of 
 opposition, he conducted her to the 
 mansion. 
 
 Major Delancy speedily returned from 
 his expedition, only half successful. The 
 good grandmamma was fatigued; but 
 Mrs. BeU, never more completely at ease 
 than with the young soldier, who struck 
 such awe into her daughter, entered the 
 drawing-room in the highest spirits. 
 
 '' I teU you, Major, that men are all 
 alike," exclaimed she, finishing a dispute 
 which had lasted the whole way. ^'I 
 have had two husbands, and am a woman 
 of experience ; and I maintain that grave
 
 184 ATHERTOlf. 
 
 or gay, rough or smooth, talkative or silent, 
 they have all the same fault, they will have 
 their own way. There was my first 
 husband, Katy's father, who was so gentle 
 and so quiet, 1 did not think he could have 
 spoken two words at a time. Well! he 
 had a way of his own, I promise you. And 
 then there was my second spouse, such a 
 giddy whirligig, that I did not believe he 
 would ever stay long enough in a place to 
 make up his mind to anything. Well! 
 he too had a way of his own, and he would 
 have it. Men are all alike, young ladies, 
 — all alike, the very best of them." 
 
 *^ Poor Mrs. Bell !" said Lord Delancy. 
 
 " Poor papa !" cried Katy. 
 
 After coffee they repaired to the print 
 room, where a splendid collection of the 
 finest and rarest engravings in the world, 
 were ranged upon double desks, round the 
 spacious apartment. Mr. Dillon has 
 since ehown what money and taste can do
 
 ATHERTON. 185 
 
 when they meet in an English merchant. 
 What an art it is that diffuses beauty as 
 well as thought, giving to these represen- 
 tatives of great pictures a home in ever}- 
 land, and a chance of duration infinitely 
 multiplied ! That colourless and silent 
 poetry, how it appeals to the heart ! — the 
 great painters with their fiery etchings ! 
 and they who, slow and patient masters of 
 their own high art, almost equalled on the 
 copper the masterpiece they copied ! 
 
 Lord Delancy, chiefly devoting himself 
 to Mrs. Glenham, left the other ladies to 
 the care of his son ; for the dear Doctor 
 had fallen upon Flaxman's Homer, and had 
 forgotten that any woman had been born 
 since the Siege of Troy. 
 
 Lady Cardonnel took charge of her 
 younger visitors, ministering with almost 
 equal delight to the cultivated taste of one 
 fair companion, and the uncultivated 
 intelligence of the other, full of the
 
 186 ATHERTON. 
 
 eager questions which, it is so pleasant to 
 answer. 
 
 Major Delancy, for his share, undertook 
 to amuse Mrs. Bell, who, it is sad to say, 
 yawned over the fine Marc-Antonios, the 
 huge Eembrandts, and the tiny Water- 
 loos, and set all the efforts of her cavalier 
 at nought, until he bethought him of a 
 certain English magician, called Hogarth, 
 powerful in cases of ennui, and brought 
 forward a complete set of the great 
 humourist, valuable for every sort of 
 quality, rarity, condition, and former 
 possessors (for many of these single 
 impressions had a pedigree), as well as for 
 the satire and the invention which have 
 made the painter immortal. 
 
 Mrs. Bell was charmed. She had the 
 English feeling of character, and that 
 happened to her which has befallen many 
 another gazer at those prints. She knew 
 the baker's boy, whose tray is overset, and
 
 ATHEETON. 187 
 
 had been well acquainted with the old 
 maid going to church on a frosty morning. 
 
 Mrs. Bell went on menily giving names 
 to Hogaii:h's figures, until the costume or 
 the attitude of the principal character in 
 ^^ Strolling Players dressing in a barn," 
 awakened another English feeling, called 
 decorum. 
 
 ^'Fie, fie, Major!" exclaimed the irate 
 dame, "look at the shameless hussy tying 
 up her garter before everybody: fie, fie!" 
 
 '' Dear Mrs. Bell, it's only to show the 
 hole in her stocking," observed the Major, 
 in a deprecating tone. ^ ' Poor wretches, it's 
 just to set forth the mixture of finery and 
 penury. Look at the tin crown, and " 
 
 "I'll look at nothing," declared Mrs. 
 Bell, shutting the portfolio with a slam of 
 virtuous indignation. " Suppose Katy 
 should come." 
 
 Eoused by the slam of the portfolio, 
 which resoimded through the room, and
 
 188 ATHERTON. 
 
 by the clamour of her mother's voice, 
 Katy did arrive, followed with more or less 
 dispatch by the entire company. The 
 Major had contrived to suppress all sjrmp- 
 toms of a smile round his mouth, but 
 there was a glimmer of laughter in his 
 eyes which showed that the outcry had not 
 proceeded from any very serious cause. 
 He left Mrs. Bell to tell her own stoiy; 
 and instead of returning to the grievance, 
 which would probably have ended in the 
 production of the delinquent figure, she 
 reminded Lord Delancy that he had pro- 
 mised Katy a sight of the Major's sketch- 
 books. 
 
 Katy enforced the demand. 
 
 ^^I had not forgotten my promise," said 
 Lord Delancy. '' I made my son bring 
 them to me only yesterday. They are in 
 the library now." And sending a servant 
 for four or five volumes of clasped books, 
 he laid them before Lady Cai-donnel.
 
 ATHERTON. 189 
 
 Two or three yolumes of very beautiful 
 landscape drawings, chielQly of lake and 
 mountain scenery, with here the ruin of a 
 temple, there of an aqueduct ; here an 
 Italian villa, there a Eoman bridge : such 
 scenes as may be found in the Liber Yeri- 
 tatis, the magazine in which Claude se- 
 cured those treasures of grace and beauty 
 which he afterwards transferred to liis 
 grand compositions. Two or three vo- 
 lumes of this character were readily dis- 
 played, with no further deprecation than 
 that of an amateur who knows perfectly 
 the limits of his power. 
 
 " They are merely reminiscences of 
 scenery," said he, ^' done for my own 
 gratification; as part, indeed, of a military 
 and travelling diary; and without any pre- 
 tension to artistic merit." 
 
 Under one or two the names of the 
 places were written, and Katy exclaimed 
 as, in soliloquy :
 
 190 ATHERTON. 
 
 " That*s the same hanclwriting with the 
 Spanish songs in Honor's music-book." 
 
 Major Delancy was relating to Mrs. Bell 
 some anecdote connected with the scene, 
 and did not hear her observation. 
 
 Having gone through all but one of the 
 sketch-books, he was about to put aside 
 that which remained, unexamined, when 
 the clasp unclosed, and Katy broke into 
 raptures at the sight of the fine old Flemish 
 town which it exhibited. 
 
 " This is worth all the rest," cried she. 
 ^' Look at those curious tall houses, with 
 the narrow-peaked gables, which seem set 
 sideways to the street ; the strange door- 
 ways, the pretty windows, the twisted 
 chimneys, the odd figures on the spouts, 
 the stone galleries here and there, the 
 carved balconies everywhere; — only look! 
 Then the spirit and the truth ; the people 
 on the causeway; we can see them! The 
 sunshine and the shadow; they are really
 
 ATHERTON. 191 
 
 to be felt. Look, Honor : this is worth 
 aU the rest." 
 
 But Honor had drawn back her chair. 
 
 *' Lady Cardonnel/' said Arthur, in a low 
 voice, '^shut that book. It never ought to 
 have been opened." 
 
 " Not on my account, Lady Cardonnel," 
 said Honor. '' Shew Katy the old Belgian 
 towns. The first sight of those drawings 
 reminded me of the days when they were 
 taken — days when I was rich in a dear 
 father and a dear brother. But what is 
 our whole life if not a memory of past hap- 
 piness? And should not the gifts and 
 virtues of those loved and lost be cherished 
 as a blessing, not turned from as a curse ? 
 Show Katy the towns." 
 
 She passed through an open French 
 window, and sate in the shadow of the 
 colonnade, looking over the park. 
 
 " MajorDelancyknew Miss Clive, then?" 
 whispered Katy.
 
 192 ATHERTON. 
 
 ^^ Yes ; she was with her father and bro- 
 ther when they were quartered at Valen- 
 ciennes, where Arthur's regiment was also 
 stationed. It was there that I made her 
 acquaintance. Captain Clive and my 
 nephew were most intimate, as you may 
 guess from theii* haying made sketching 
 excursions together, and often worked 
 upon the same drawing." 
 
 *• Poor Honor," sighed Katy. 
 
 " Yes, she loved her brother dearly; he 
 was indeed a most gifted creature. She 
 has since lost both him and her father." 
 
 '^ Dear Honor!" 
 
 " Lady Cardonnel then directed her 
 companion's attention to some highly 
 graphic representations of Flemish and 
 German towns : Ghent, Antwerp, Bruges, 
 Nuremburg, in which the spirited and 
 brilliant pencilling caught the young 
 girl's fancy more than the poetical feeling 
 displayed by the owner of the book in
 
 ATHERTON. 193 
 
 lake and mountain scenery, where the 
 treatment of atmospheric effects, tlie 
 clouds, the waterfalls, the distant hills, 
 was often masterly. 
 
 At last, in a sketch by Major Delancy 
 of one of the Moorish cities of Spaiii, 
 Seville or Granada, a loose card, wrapped in 
 silver paper, provoked Katy's curiosity. 
 It was a profile of a young EnglisJi 
 officer, the pure outline of whose features 
 was too familiar to her to be mistaken. 
 The initials L. C. were written under- 
 neath. 
 
 ^^ Lionel Clive,-' exclaimed Lady Car- 
 donnel a moment after. 
 
 "How like Honor!'' burst from the 
 two ; for Mrs. Bell had long forsaken the 
 books she had demanded, and was sitting, 
 in peaceful slumber on a distant sofa; 
 and from the moment that LionePs draw- 
 ings had been exhibited, Arthur had held 
 aloof. 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 ATHERTOK. 
 
 As they were replacing the card, they 
 saw another profile, slightly touched on 
 the reverse, a female head, with the hair 
 braided as in the Greek statues. 
 
 " Honor herself ! '' cried Katy. ^^ I 
 wonder if she knows it.'' 
 
 Meanwhile, the peaceful hour and the 
 peaceful scene aided in restoring the poor 
 governess to tranquillity. The rich per- 
 fume of plants from the conservatories 
 blended with the thousand natural sweet- 
 nesses of spring in the woods. Night- 
 ingales answered each other from brake 
 to thicket, and mixed with the soothing 
 fall of a fountain, whose jets were silvered 
 by the moonbeams. . Light and shadow 
 seemed softened in the park. All was 
 harmony, till a stern voice spoke at the 
 window, apparently in answer to some 
 kind remark of Lady Cardonnel. 
 
 '^ Do not tell me of tears, Margaret !
 
 ATHERTON. 195 
 
 They are oftener shed for the liyiug than 
 the dead." 
 
 This was a defiance to good or to evil, 
 and so it was felt by Honora. This time 
 no tears fell. 
 
 o2
 
 196 ATHERTOX. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A Y0T7NG lady's BOOK-SHELVES. 
 
 Three or four days after this scene, Mr. 
 Langhton presented himself at an early- 
 hour in Major Delancy's dressing-room. 
 He had anived by a night coach at the 
 nearest town, and had driven to the Hall 
 in aU haste. 
 
 ^' Arthur," said he, dismissing the 
 valet, ^^ this affair must be brought at once 
 to a conclusion. I have not thought fit to 
 speak on the subject to your father, be- 
 cause I know as well as you the danger 
 to his health of all transitions of hope and
 
 ATHEETON. 197 
 
 fear. But I tell you plainly that dangers 
 are looming in the distance. The adverse 
 solicitors throw out hints, which of course 
 we are not the last to hear. Sir Yivian, I 
 knoWj is hanging about this neighbour- 
 hood, hatching mischief, according to his 
 nature. Think, if your father should 
 catch sight of him before this marriage is 
 finally arranged, what might be the conse- 
 quence. I, as you know, do not hold 
 myself justified, as executor or as guardian, 
 to advance so immense a sum until at least 
 the settlements are signed. In short, the 
 formal proposal must be made at once. I 
 do not see any danger of refusal. The 
 mother and grandmother are strongly with 
 you ; and the young lady certainly likes 
 no man better, imless it be your father. 
 Follow her in her afternoon walk, and 
 find or make an opportunity. I shall 
 back to my proper work of drawing deeds; 
 and a snap of the fijQgers," continued he,
 
 198 ATHERTON. 
 
 suiting ihe action to the word, " for Sir 
 Vivian and his deviMes ! '' 
 
 So departing, without leaving time for 
 reply, the good lawyer drove briskly to 
 the Farm. 
 
 Thither, a few houi's after, we follow him. 
 
 Now dearest Mrs. Bell, whose genial 
 and hearty character had borne so well the 
 broad sunshine of prosperity, rejoicing 
 in Katy's good fortune, and trying to 
 make all around her as happy as herself — 
 that dear and excellent Mrs. Bell had her 
 little foibles, as all women ought to have. 
 It is only Queen Elizabeth who, in the 
 plenitude of her royal grandeur and her 
 imroyal vanity, desired to be painted 
 without shadow. Our Mrs. Bell was no 
 Queen Elizabeth ; and the shade that 
 thi'ow into relief the broad lights of her 
 honest countenance, was the least spice, 
 the smallest spice in the world, of mis- 
 trust of her neighbours. She did not hate
 
 ATHERTON. 199 
 
 them ; she did not sj^eak ill of them ; but 
 she was a little addicted to suspecting 
 them of hating'and speaking ill of her : in 
 short, she had always a Mrs. Grundy. 
 At the commencement of our story, Mrs. 
 Glenham had filled that ungracious part ; 
 but matters having righted in that quarter, 
 especially since the accident on the ice, 
 the reigning Mrs. Grundy was no other 
 than her old gossip and crony, Mrs. 
 Thorpe, wife of the miller, whose bell- 
 team had been eclipsed by the famous 
 horses purchased by Katy's orders, who 
 now drew Mrs. Bell's waggon to the next 
 market town, as proudly as if it had been 
 a dray of Barclay and Perkins, or the Lord 
 Mayor's coach. It is just possible that 
 the bell-team in question, whose para- 
 phernalia had never been equalled in 
 Atherton, might have inflicted certain 
 pangs of jealousy on Mrs. Thorpe, and 
 that the ill-will was not wholly on one
 
 200 ATHBRTON. 
 
 side — wHch, speaking from a pretty long 
 experience, it may be assumed that ill-will 
 seldom is. 
 
 Peace and harmony reigned in the 
 pleasant morning room. Mrs. "Warner, 
 with her Bible before her, and her knitting 
 on her lap ; Mr. Langhton wiiting a letter, 
 which, from his deep attention, seemed 
 important ; and Katy, at her own desire, 
 attempting, under Honor's patient direc- 
 tion, a simple accompaniment to one of 
 her^wn songs. All on a sudden, a storm 
 entered from the village, in the person of 
 Mrs. Bell, red-hot with anger. 
 
 ^^WellP' quoth she, ^'what will that 
 woman say next?'' 
 
 '' What woman, dear Mi's. Bell ? '' 
 
 " What woman, mamma ? " iaquii-ed 
 the young ladies, almost simultaneously. 
 
 ^' Mrs. Thorpe ! " was the reply. '^ She 
 calls us all the bad names that ever were 
 heard of — bad names out of the Bible ! 
 — wicked that she is ! "•
 
 ATHERTON. 201 
 
 * ^ All owing to those horses of yours, Katy, ' ' 
 said Stephen, looking up from his letter. 
 *' IN'ow you've beaten her husband's team 
 so thoroughly, Mrs. Bell, you can afford to 
 be generous, and let her jingle the bells." 
 
 ^^She calls us bad names out of the 
 Bible I" repeated the angry lady; ^^and 
 says that I am as proud as Jezebel, and shall 
 come to the same end. And she says bad 
 things of you, Sir : she says, that not con- 
 tent with calling Katy a queen (and I'm 
 sure you've called her so these dozen years) 
 you are setting her up like one, and have 
 got an Earl's daughter for her governess. 
 And then she talks nonsense out of a play- 
 book, and tells of some old ^^dcked wretch 
 who set up his daughter in the same way, 
 Avith a decayed gentlewoman for her 
 serving-maid. To think of telling un- 
 truths of dear Miss Clive ! She might say 
 what she liked of me ; but to speak false- 
 hoods of her, and call her a serving-maid 
 and an earl's daughter ! "
 
 202 ATHERTOK. 
 
 ^^ Any one who spoke ill of Miss Clive 
 must tell an untruth," observed Mrs. 
 Warner, perceiving that Mr. Langhton 
 looked perplexed, and that Honor, with 
 an expression between a blush and a 
 smile, seemed hesitating what to say. 
 
 ^' Honor ! " said Katy, flinging her arms 
 round her friend's neck, ^^ Dear Honor ! 
 can this be true ?" 
 
 '^ IN'ot wholly true," was the reply, ^^nor 
 yet altogether false. I am not an Earl's 
 daughter, Katy. Eut would you love 
 me less if my mother had been such ? I 
 never meant to deceive you, dearest Mrs. 
 Warner. When Mr. Langhton enquired 
 for a governess of my friend and school- 
 fellow, Mrs. Osborne, she told him that I 
 was in want of such a situation. My poor 
 mother, dead long ago, had been the 
 youngest of many children. My father, 
 a younger brother of good family, was a 
 colonel in the army. When he too died, I 
 remained penniless."
 
 ATHERTOX, 203 
 
 ^' Add/' broke in Stephen, ^^that she 
 had given up her mother's portion that 
 her father might purchase a company for 
 her brother, and pay certain unavoidable 
 debts and losses." 
 
 Honor pressed his hands. 
 
 ^' Lady Lucy Lynmere, my mother's 
 half-sister, took me to live with her ; but 
 there I could not stay." 
 
 " Because she refused a booby and a 
 dolt," again interrupted IVL:. Langhton. 
 
 '' And then I came here," said Honor ; 
 " where I have found dear friends and a 
 happy home. Indeed I did not mean to 
 deceive you, Mrs. Warner. Indeed, indeed, 
 Mrs. Bell, I never dreamt of concealment. 
 Katy, you will not love me less, my Katy, 
 for this accident of birth ? I do not love 
 you less for being rich." 
 
 Mrs. Bell was on the point of giving 
 vent to a whole volume of flourishing 
 apologies about the tent-bed and the
 
 204 ATHERTON. 
 
 painted wash-hand stand ; but a kiss from 
 Honor drove away all her fine speeches ; 
 and with a genuine exclamation : 
 
 ^'We could not have loved you better 
 if you had been a princess !" she flung 
 herself upon her neck and wept aloud. 
 
 " Nor could we have respected you 
 more had we known all the noble things 
 that Mr. Langhton has told us of you," 
 said Mrs. Warner. 
 
 " Though how he came to know them," 
 began Honor. 
 
 " Unless Mrs. Osborne told me," inter- 
 posed the lawyer, " you cannot guess. 
 But, indeed," added he, ^^ I have myself 
 the pleasure of some acquaintance with 
 your rejected swain, an accomplished per- 
 son, who, having a filly to enter for the 
 Oaks, spelt her name of Psyche without 
 the P. Some add that by way of making 
 the rejected letter amends for the omission, 
 he inserted it where it saw itself for the
 
 ATHERTON. 205 
 
 first time in the word filly, which accord- 
 ing to his reading stands so — Philly. But 
 for my part, being of a charitable dispo- 
 sition, I, like Sir Benjamin Backbite 
 when talking of Miss Letitia Piper's 
 Twins, never believe more than half of 
 these stories.'' 
 
 *^ I wonder," said Mrs. Warner, '^ how 
 Mrs. Thorpe heard her news." 
 
 " Oh, the country !" said Stephen, ''the 
 country accounts for the spread of all 
 news, false or true. As there are certain 
 districts to which typhus seems indi- 
 genous, so gossip springs up spontaneously 
 in the country, it is indeed its natural pro- 
 duce. This country of yours — this in- 
 nocent country !" muttered the old law- 
 yer, quoting, as he often did, a poignant 
 figment of Horace Walpole : '' ' Questions 
 grow there, and the Christian commodity, 
 neighbours.' In London we don't know 
 who lives next door. You mav bo dead
 
 206 ATHERTOX. 
 
 and buried and nobody know or care ; — a 
 precious privilege. Now that we are 
 talking of your gi^andmotber, Honor, tell 
 me if you have a portrait of her? and 
 if it be here ? Lady Eossborough 
 was one of those traditionary beauties 
 whose loveliness lives in the ears of men, 
 like that of Cleopatra, or Mary Queen of 
 Scots, or Lady Coventry." 
 
 ^^Ah!" exclaimed Katy, ^' can it be 
 that enchanting little print of a lady in a 
 black hat and feathers, which Major De- 
 lancy was looking at the other night ? the 
 little engraving which lies between the 
 leaves of one of the music books ?" 
 
 " Where my poor brother placed it 
 just before his fatal illness," said Honor. 
 ''Yes." 
 
 ''I will show it to you," said Katy. 
 "Don't disturb it, dear Mr. Langhton," 
 added she, in a low voice, '' I think Honor 
 does not wish it touched. I'll hold it for 
 mamma and grandmamma."
 
 ATHERTON. 207 
 
 " I have a miniature up-stairs wMch 
 gives a better idea of her beauty," said 
 Honor. 
 
 ^^It is hardly possible to go beyond 
 this," said Mrs. Warner. This is sweet- 
 ness itself." 
 
 Perhaps sweetness was the best word 
 for that loveliest face. The rose almost 
 emitted its fragrance. Charles Fox has 
 described in his lines to Mrs. Crewe — an 
 English beauty of whom the Irish coun- 
 tess was nearly the contemporary — that 
 surpassing charm, of which the essence is 
 character. The lines are not poetry, ac- 
 cording to our present notion ; but they 
 have the merit of making us see the object 
 described, instead of stopping to admire the 
 description : — 
 
 "Where the sweetest expression to features is joined, 
 By Natupe's most delicate pencil designed ; 
 Where blushes unbidden, and smiles without art, 
 Speak the softness and feelhig that dwell in the heart ; 
 Where in manners enchanting no blemish we trace 
 But the soul keeps the promise we had from the face."
 
 208 ATHERTON. 
 
 Such was tlie impression produced by 
 Eeynolds's pencil, and Bartolozzi's graver, 
 in the portrait of the Countess of Ross- 
 borough. 
 
 Still Mr. Langhton wished to see the 
 miniature. And the whole party, except 
 Mrs. Warner, followed Honor to the small 
 room over the door which Mrs. Bell had 
 assigned to her as a study. 
 
 Katy flung her arms round her friend's 
 waist, as they lightly ascended the stairs, 
 and whispered : 
 
 ^^ Did not Major Delancy know Captain 
 Clive?" 
 
 "Yes," was the reply, '^ they were com- 
 rades and friends." 
 
 -"And your father knew him ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And he knew you ?" 
 
 "Yes, dear Katy. Ilcre we shall find 
 the miniatm-e, Mr. Langhton. Yes, here 
 it is."
 
 ATHERTOX. 209 
 
 "Ah I how lovely!" burst from all 
 when they saw those featm^es, with the full 
 magic of coloui", sparkling with smiles and 
 blushes as in life. 
 
 " And here is her little prayer-book," 
 said Honor ; ''and a few letters to my poor 
 mother." 
 
 '' Let me look at them," interposed Mr. 
 Langhton; '' I take an interest in every 
 thing belonging to a beauty." 
 
 '' They are as sweet as her countenance," 
 said Honor. " Ah, and here is some old 
 point -lace, the lace of which we were talk- 
 ing the other evening." 
 
 ''Dear me!" ejaculated Mrs. Bell, 
 giving vent as usual to the imsophisti- 
 cated impression. "How ugly ! and what a 
 colom* ! I beg your pardon, though," 
 added she, upon reflection, " I dare say it's 
 all my fault, and that the lace is really 
 very handsome." 
 
 VOL. I, ' p
 
 210 ATIIERTON. 
 
 Honor smiled, as smile she needs 
 must. 
 
 ^^ Dearest Mrs. Bell, your truthfulness is 
 worth all the fine-lady taste in the world. 
 I am afraid that, except for the sake of 
 those to whom it once belonged, I care for 
 the point-lace as little as you do. There 
 are my books," added she, addressing the 
 old gentleman, who was still busy with 
 the letters of the lovely Countess. ^' You 
 can look over 'those at your leisure." 
 
 Mrs. Bell had presented Honor with an 
 old fashioned, very black-looking, little 
 book-case, which she called a scrutoire ; a 
 combination of desk and shelves, glass 
 doors above, and three shallow drawers, 
 with large brass handles, below. Originally 
 this piece of furniture had decorated the 
 best parlour ; the shelves having been 
 filled by a collection of stuffed birds of all 
 nations, considerably the worse for wear. 
 Cockatoos were there, and paroquets, and 
 humming-birds no bigger than cock-
 
 ATHERTON. 211 
 
 chafers, reliques bequeathed to some 
 former generation by a long-deceased 
 sailor-uncle; and ring-ouzels, white black- 
 birds, and other cimosities of the same 
 sort, stuffed by a traditionary aunt 
 Martha, who had cultivated that singular 
 female accomplishment. 
 
 Mrs, BeU had sighed over the dingy and 
 moth-eaten remains, as she put them into 
 a comer of the lumber room ; whilst Katy 
 and Jacob, learned as they were in such 
 lore, had pored over them as Cuvier over a 
 new set of fossil bones, guessing at name 
 and species as a child at a riddle. An old 
 warped mummy of a homed owl had com- 
 pletely posed them. They took the unlucky 
 bird for a cat ; and but for the beak which 
 dropped off in the transit, for a cat it 
 would have passed to this hour. 
 
 Katy had been the chief agent in in- 
 stalling the new tenants, the books ; 
 giving her assistance with the most willing 
 
 p 2
 
 212 ATHERTON. 
 
 activity in unpacking, sorting, dusting, 
 and arranging the several sets. She now 
 pointed them out to Mr. Langhton, who, 
 pocketing the Countess's packet, ran his 
 fingers along the glass as he read the 
 titles; accompanying the action by a half- 
 muttered commentary, delivered rather as 
 a soliloquy, than as a reply to Honor's 
 apologetic. 
 
 ^^Yery few, and rather miscellaneous 
 than select!" 
 
 '^ Chaucer, Spencer, Shakespeare, Mil- 
 ton, — aye, the prose too ; that's right ! — 
 Dryden, Pope, Cowley, poems and essays, 
 — right there too ! Bacon's Essays, Eve- 
 lyn, Pepys, Walton's Lives, Lettres Spi- 
 rituelles, Pascal, Holy Living and Dying, 
 Poster's Essays — the girl's a good girl ! 
 Don Quixote — have you read that, my 
 queen?" 
 
 ^' No, sir ; and I wish so much to read it. 
 Will you lend it to me, dear Honor?"
 
 ATHERTON. 213 
 
 Honor's answer was to take out the 
 volumes, write Katy's name in the first 
 page, and give her the work with a tender 
 kiss. 
 
 Mr. Langhton went on with his cata- 
 logue : 
 
 " Gentle Shepherd, Howell's Letters, 
 Gandentio di Lucca — curious old book that 
 of Bishop Berkeley's I she's getting into 
 my line ! — Burns ; aye, Currie's edition. 
 "Wonderful creature I — I saw him once. 
 Eye like an hawk ! What are all these ? 
 Old ballads ? Yes ; Percy, Scott, Eitson, 
 Ellis, Thomas Wharton, Andre Chenier 
 — don't know him I Lamb's Specimens ; 
 good ! Ariosto, Alfieri, Moliere, Madame 
 de Sevigne, Defoe's Plague of London, 
 Yasari, Crabbe, Cowper — my joui-ne}', to 
 wit — Yicar of Wakefield, Pranklin's So- 
 phocles. Did not I see the Greek Anti- 
 gone upon his table to-day ? De Gram- 
 mont. Sully, Drinkwater's Gibraltar —
 
 214 ATHEETON. 
 
 those would be her brother's books. Mis- 
 cellaneous and imperfect as it is, this is 
 the collection of a woman of a ripe mind, 
 worth all the beauty in the world!" 
 
 Ever since the episode of Don Quixote, 
 the good lawyer had been literally talk- 
 ing, or rather muttering to himself; Katy 
 having drawn Honor away, that they 
 might look together over the plates in her 
 beautiful book, for it was that edition 
 which contains the exquisite '' Dorothea" 
 of Stothard ; so our friend turned from the 
 old scrutoire, and walked down stairs, in 
 that which is commonly called a brown 
 study, and instead of despatching the letter 
 which he had been writing, took himself 
 off to London the same afternoon.
 
 ATHERTON. 216 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 THE COPPICE. 
 
 That aftemooii was indeed most lovely. 
 Small fleecy clouds went sailing over the 
 bright blue sky, casting here and there a 
 shadow over a landscape almost too bright 
 in the full sunshine. The leaves — some, as 
 the elm and the beech, just bursting from 
 their brown sheaths ; some, like the birch, 
 waving in tenderest verdure; some, as 
 the oak, sealed up in the dim buds — formed 
 a variety enchanting to look upon. Even 
 where the boughs were bare, they were 
 alive with sap mounting into the highest
 
 216 ATIIERTON. 
 
 branches, transparent, glowing, full of 
 purple light. 
 
 The orchard of the Farm was one flush 
 of blossom, every fi'uit tree garlanded from 
 the bottom to the top ; whilst over many 
 a cottage, and at the edge of many a wood, 
 some noble old pear or wild cheiTy tossed 
 its white flowers in the sun. Up the downs, 
 too, came rich glimpses of the golden furze 
 blossom, thickets of heavy almond odoiu-, 
 left here and there to shelter the young 
 lambs. 
 
 The park revelled in gorgeous beauty ; 
 its noble mansion; its masses of ever- 
 greens, c}^ress, cedar, bay, and pine; its 
 bright waters, giving back the weeping- 
 willow, the drooping birch, and the huge 
 Spanish chesnut ; the long lines of Ame- 
 rican borders near the house already put- 
 ting forth theii- gay colours; the broad 
 avenue of limes ; the spii*al poplars ; and 
 farther on, the grand old forest trees — oak,
 
 ATHERTON. 217 
 
 beech, and elm, with their undergrowth of 
 hawthorn, holly, and fern ; that fern on 
 which, under the tufted May garlands, does 
 and fawns lay sleeping in the sun. The 
 earth, too, was full of fragrance and of 
 beauty. Everywhere the grass had the deep 
 verdure of England, now powdered with 
 daisies, now golden with buttercups, now 
 enamelled with the purple bells of the 
 wild hyacinth. 
 
 Through this scene of sylvan loveliness, 
 Katy, with her faithful attendants, Jacob 
 and Marigold, sallied forth to gather the 
 first lilies for the Great Farm. Her guar- 
 dian had reminded her that she had pro- 
 mised to fill his jar with that piu'e and 
 graceful nosegay, composed of some score 
 or two of delicate stalks, hung with their 
 snowy bells, and backed-up ^dth the broad 
 silky leaf, of which the texture is as ele- 
 gant as the hue. Honor should have 
 helped to gather them; but Honor, although
 
 218 ATHEfiTON. 
 
 she would never confess to being tired, 
 often looked pale after one of their long 
 walks ; and this afternoon, without walk- 
 ing, she looked paler than ever. So Mrs. 
 Warner prevailed upon her to stay at 
 home. 
 
 Their way lay across a comer of the 
 park, to a coppice which ascended in ter- 
 races to the high table-land which over- 
 hung the village. The coppice consisted 
 almost wholly of hazel, with its fragrant 
 tassels, interspersed with mountaiu-ash, 
 now covered with its broad blossoms, and 
 oaks of some eighty years' growth. The 
 ground was literally carpeted with flowers, 
 wood-sorrel, wood-anemone, wood-veitch, 
 wood-roof, Solomon's-seal, columbine, wild 
 strawberry, that strange and spectral 
 flower, the wild Star of Bethlehem, cloud- 
 berries and liHes, in beds of half an acre, 
 scenting the air. 
 
 The path, a steep and winding ascent.
 
 ATHERTON. 219 
 
 led from terrace to terrace, often under- 
 mined by fox's earths, holes Med up with 
 dead leaves and living flowers, and looked 
 upon nothing but the broad tree-tops. The 
 solitude was unbroken. !N^umberless night- 
 ingales, as conscious of the silence, seemed 
 answering each other in that exquisite 
 variety of song so delicious when unpro- 
 faned by meaner notes. 
 
 The three companions had found in that 
 pleasant place, and on that lovely May 
 evening, a congenial occupation. 
 
 Jacob, plunged into one of the shallow 
 pits spoken of above, was driving a long 
 pole as far as it would go into a hole in the 
 side, imcertain whether it did or not con- 
 tain a litter of rabbits. '^ If that lazy jade 
 Flora," thought Jacob, ^^ would but have 
 dragged her fat body this distance, her 
 tongue would soon have told the truth of 
 the matter. No rabbit could cheat her. 
 Into the hole would she have rushed,
 
 220 ' ATHERTON. 
 
 scratching and questing. We should have 
 tracked her imder the ground as old Sam 
 Pownall tracks the moles. To be sure, the 
 last time she got into a burrow she stuck 
 fastj and we had to fetch a matter of six 
 men to dig her out. It cost a good crown- 
 piece in beer at the Dclancy Arms, which 
 angered Madam Bell. And Miss Katy got 
 frightened for fear she should be smothered. 
 So, may be 'tis better she's at home." And 
 Jacob, a philosopher in his way, pursued 
 his researches unassisted. 
 
 Marigold's diyersion was of a diiFerent 
 sort. She had discovered and made prize 
 of a hedgehog, which, coiling itself into a 
 ball, exercised a kind of passive resistance,^ 
 which bade fair to defeat the manoeuvres of 
 its swift and powerful enemy. Marigold 
 was puzzled. Xow she gave it a poke with 
 her pretty black nose, receiving so sharp a 
 prick on that sensitive part that she tossed 
 her slender head in the air in consternation.
 
 ATHERTON. 221 
 
 ringing all the bells of her silver collar; 
 then she gave a quick pat with one foot^ 
 then with the other, drawing both feet back 
 as if they had encountered a red-hot coal. 
 Then the aggrieved nose was cautiously 
 inserted underneath the hedgehog, with a 
 view to find out some more -vnilnerable 
 place, and the hedgehog, thus impelled, 
 rolled on a little ; then Marigold jumped 
 first to one side, then to the other, to put 
 her adversary off his guard (for Mari- 
 gold was a greyhound of high race, and 
 therefore of high courage), and adven- 
 tured, much to the damage of her nose, 
 another poke. At last she lay down with 
 her head upon her paws, watching her 
 prey, just as a cat watches a mouse-hole. 
 "Woe to the hedgehog if, deceived by those 
 half-closed eyes, he ventures to uncoil 
 before Marigold leaves her post ! 
 
 Katy, on her part, was making quick 
 work with the beautiful lilies as they glim-
 
 222 ATHERTON. 
 
 mered so gracefully between their broad 
 green leaves; sometimes in large close 
 beds, sometimes scattered bere and there 
 amongst the moss and the dead leaves, 
 with a tuft of fern or of Solomon's seal, or 
 a stalk of whortleberry intermixed. The 
 lilies were in their earliest and loveliest 
 stage, the lower bells fully out, the tops of 
 the stems crowned with pale green buds, 
 each larger and paler than the last. 
 
 There knelt Katy, filling her great bas- 
 ket; now listening to the nightingales, now 
 singing snatches of her own sweet songs. 
 
 ^^ Give thee good-morrow, busy bee!" 
 was her greeting to one of those indus- 
 trious insects, as he passed by heavily 
 laden. 
 
 " Give thee good even ! would be the 
 better salutation,'' said she ; " for I think 
 we have both been long enough plunder- 
 ing the flowers, and may take ourselves 
 home."
 
 ATHERTON. 223 
 
 Accordingly she summoned her two 
 attendants, when her basket was quite, and 
 she herself almost, overset by a thousand 
 curvets and gambols played off by Mari- 
 gold, in honour of Major Delancy, who had 
 climbed up one of the steep terraces as 
 lightly as the four-footed favourite herself, 
 and now stood by the side of the fair 
 flower-gatherer. 
 
 ^^ I have startled you, Miss "Warner; and 
 Marigold and I have scattered the lilies ; 
 but I will soon pick them up. And you 
 must let me carry them. Yes, indeed 
 you must, I am used to carry flowers. 
 Happy they who have only known such 
 burdens." 
 
 "Yes," said Katy, "yon are thinking 
 of the poor soldier, and doubtless his 
 knapsack — " 
 
 " Aye," interposed Arthur, " knap- 
 sack, and musket, and kettle, and kit, all 
 that he has, and all that he has not, in
 
 224 ATHERTON. 
 
 the roughest weather, and in an enemy's 
 country. Those are among the sad re- 
 alities of life. I am afraid that I was 
 thinking of burthens less tangible, but 
 fully as painful — Are you going home ?" 
 continued he, interrupting himself. ^ ' Shall 
 we send Jacob back through the fields? 
 That is the nearest way. And will you 
 allow me to take his place as your attendant, 
 and see 3^ou home through the park ?" 
 
 Katy felt unusually shy ; but she 
 said ^^ Yes,'' simply because she did not 
 know how to say No; and for a little 
 while they walked through the wood in 
 silence, Arthur putting aside the branches 
 and guiding her into the smoothest ways ; 
 and, at last, when they had come into 
 something like a path, winding round the 
 edge of the coppice, offering her his arm. 
 
 ^' I am walking too fast for you," he 
 said. " You will be tired." 
 
 Katy had often felt — nobody could help
 
 ATHERTON. 225 
 
 feeling — Arthur Delancy's peculiar sweet- 
 ness of manner, his constant consider- 
 ation for others, his care for their con- 
 venience, his deference to their feelings, — 
 in a word the total absence of selfishness. 
 It was high-breeding, the very highest 
 breeding ; but it was also somewhat more. 
 This evening she felt more than ever this 
 peculiar charm, and yet, instead of putting 
 her at ease, it had exactly the contrary 
 effect ; so after saying : 
 
 " l^Oy indeed, I am not tired ; I am never 
 tired ; I could walk all day." 
 
 She suddenly uttered that which so very 
 few people, under any temptation, ever do 
 utter — that is, the exact thought which 
 arose in her mind, and exclaimed : 
 
 ^^ Oh ! how I wish that Honor were 
 here I " 
 
 " Her companion half started, almost 
 stopped. He commanded himself, however, 
 and replied: 
 
 VOL, I. Q
 
 226 ATIIERTON. 
 
 " I^ for my part, rejoice in her absence. 
 I wished to see you alone. You are young 
 and inexperienced, Miss Warner; but 
 you are also acute and observant ; and I 
 am sure that you must have observed, 
 even if my father had not, as he has just 
 informed me, endeavoured to prepare you 
 for my proposal, that I was only waiting 
 for some such opportunity to entreat you 
 to accept my hand, and share my destiny.' ' 
 
 It was now Katy's turn to start and 
 tremble. There are some things for which 
 all the preparation in the world is of no 
 avail ; and a proposal of marriage — espe- 
 cially the first proposal — is one of them. 
 Her colour went and came ; and if Arthur 
 had not found her a seat on the stool of a 
 felled beech, she would probably so far 
 have disgraced her country breeding as to 
 have fainted. 
 
 He soothed her into composure; and 
 throwing himself on the ground at her 
 side, proceeded:
 
 ATHERTOX. 227 
 
 " I trust this discomposure is not caused 
 by aversion ? — '^o ! — Surely you said no ! 
 It is, then, but the modesty which blends 
 so sweetly with ygur charming frankness ; 
 and I may hope that our union, which would 
 crown the wishes of all my family, and 
 which is equally agreeable to your own, 
 may be delayed no longer than the settle- 
 ments due to so great an heiress, render 
 necessary. You come to us, !Miss Warner, 
 bringing wealth which will redeem the 
 forfeited estates of our old and honourable 
 house — which will save the peace, the 
 health, the very existence of my father; 
 and yet he feels — we all feel, I most of all 
 — that that wealth fades into nothing 
 when compared with the loveliness, the 
 innocence, .the goodness, of its owner. 
 My father already loves you as a daughter. 
 My whole life shall be devoted to the en- 
 deavour to render you happy. Will you 
 not speak a word ? — ^not one word ?" 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 ATHERTON. 
 
 Poor Katy hung her head in silence, and 
 even turned her blushing cheek aside. 
 
 ^^ Will you not speak one single word? 
 Well, then, your flowers shall be your 
 interpreters. Give me one of the lilies in 
 your basket, and that answer shall con- 
 tent me ! " 
 
 Gathering herself up almost firmly, 
 Katy at last found courage to speak : 
 
 "I love Lord Delancy dearly; and I 
 know — no one better — all" your goodness, 
 Major Delancy; — Oh! far too good — far 
 too clever for me ! But I must ask one 
 question. Honor — Were you never en- 
 gaged to her ? " 
 
 '^ ISTever ! on the word of a gentleman ! " 
 replied Major Delancy, with an open firm- 
 ness that it would have been impossible to 
 disbelieve. 
 
 '^ It is very strange," said Katy; 
 ^^ those Spanish songs in your hand- 
 writing, and your never speaking when 
 you met."
 
 ATHERTOX. 229 
 
 ^^ Those songs are of my writing ; so 
 far is true, Katy ; and here I might tell 
 you what is also true, that I was the 
 bosom friend of her only brother. But 
 that would only be part of the truth ; and 
 it is due to you and to myself, to make one 
 of those confessions most humbling to 
 man's weakness. Three yea A ago I did 
 love, or I thought I loved, Honor Clive. 
 I laid my very heart at her feet, and was 
 rejected. Since then,, we have never met, 
 except in your presence. I do not ask, 
 because I am sure that she has behaved 
 with the admirable propriety which cha- 
 racterizes her every word and action, by 
 keeping my offer secret." 
 
 ^^ She has never said one word," replied 
 Katy, much relieved. 
 
 ^* And this then has been the cause of 
 your hesitation ? The only cause ? Is there 
 no happier man ?" 
 
 " Is'o," said Katy stoutly ; "I have never
 
 230 ATHERTON. 
 
 seen any young men, except Charles and 
 Harry, and young Mr. Thorpe. And 
 next to Mr. Langhton and dear Lord 
 Delancy, I like you. But how can you 
 think of me after Honor — dear, dear, 
 Honor?" 
 
 It was a strange frankness, and puzzling 
 to answer. He took her own tone, and told 
 the truth. 
 
 ^^ She would have nothing to say to me 
 Katy. But you — will you not give me one 
 ofthoseliHes?'^ 
 
 And with her lilies in his button-hole, 
 and her hand resting on his arm, the 
 betrothed couple quitted the coppice. 
 
 After a little gentle talk he ventured to 
 inquire, still very soothingly, for there 
 was a nervousness about her, rare in that 
 bright and vigorous spirit: 
 
 ^^ Since not from any chance expression 
 of Miss Clive, what could have given you 
 the suspicion which had like to have 
 cheated me of two flowers?"
 
 ATHERTON. 231 
 
 ^' Oh ! such a diJOferent person from 
 Honorj" said Katy, — ^^a gipsy." 
 
 ^^A gipsy, a fortune-teller ?" enquired 
 Ai'thur. 
 
 '^ Yes," said she, ^^a gipsy fortune-teller. 
 It is quite a history. Yesterday morning I 
 was riding on the downs with Marigold and 
 Jacob Stokes. We had had a good canter, for 
 Jacob wasonHonor's pony; and were on the 
 point of turning back when we came to the 
 steep ridge that lies on the top of the nar- 
 row valley, called the Soak. You know the 
 Soak ? Quite full of alders, and willows, 
 and cotton grass, where the stream oozes 
 through, with great patches of gorse at the 
 sides, looking like masses of gold in the 
 sunshine. So sweet, too ! — oh, so sweet ! 
 Grandmamma says she remembers an old 
 shepherd, who built himself a hut amongst 
 the gorse. I don't wonder at it. I should 
 like to live there myself. Yestiges of the 
 garden are there still, a gooseberry -bush or
 
 232 ATHERTON. 
 
 SO, and an old apple-tree; and I suppose there 
 must be some remains of the cabin, for as 
 we stood looking down on the Soak we 
 saw smoke sailing along the hill side, and 
 two or three children searching for plover's 
 eggs on the downs." 
 
 ^^ And these were gipsy children ?" 
 asked Arthur. 
 
 '^ I suppose so," resumed Katj. ^^ As 
 we were looking at them, a tall woman 
 appeared close to me, and caught hold of 
 Britomarte's bridle. Is'ow Britomart^ has 
 no fancy for tall women, in red cloaks, 
 who seize her by the bridle, and she soon 
 shook herself free. But she is the gentlest 
 creature in the world when once her fright 
 is over, so after a little prancing she be- 
 came quiet. And then the gipsy insisted 
 upon telling my fortune. I had never had 
 my fortune told, and had no objection ; 
 only I had no money, and the gipsy de- 
 clared that it was essential that her hand
 
 ATHERTOX. 233 
 
 should be crossed witli a piece of silver. 
 Luckily Jacob, who is the handiest boy in 
 the world, and always has a knife, or a bit 
 of string, or a hooked stick in his pocket 
 — ^in short, whatever one happens to want, 
 — luckily Jacob had sixpence, and that, 
 and the promise of sending him with 
 half-a-crown to-day, contented her. So 
 then — " Here Katy came to a full stop. 
 
 ^^ What then, dear Katy ? Pray go on," 
 said Arthur. 
 
 ^^ Well, then she took my hand, and 
 said there was a cross in the line of life ; 
 that in a very few days — " 
 
 '^ Go on, I entreat." 
 
 ^' Some one should say he loved me ; but 
 that he should really love not me, but 
 my dearest friend." 
 
 *^ Did she say more ?" 
 
 " IS'o. She was gone as suddenly as 
 she appeared; and to-day, when Jacob 
 rode to take her the half-crown, she and 
 the children had disappeared."
 
 234 ATHERTON. 
 
 " That is strange, indeed," observed the 
 Major; *^ strangest, perhaps, of all. And 
 you— '' 
 
 ^^ I told the whole story to dear gi-and- 
 mamma; and she advised me — ^to do — 
 as I have done, in short,'' said poorKaty. 
 "Was I wrong?" 
 
 " Never wrong," replied Arthur, very 
 warmly, ^' to follow in all things the dic- 
 tates of one whose simplicity is the truest 
 wisdom ! Never wrong to tell all that is 
 in your own pure heart ! That woman 
 must have been an emissary of Sir Vivian. 
 Here is my father. We will not mention 
 her to him." 
 
 Lord Delancy's ecstasy in welcoming 
 his future daughter-in-law was delightful 
 to his son. " God grant that T may make 
 her happy !" was his inward prayer.
 
 ATHEETOX. 235 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE EOMAX STATION. 
 
 The intended marriage, althougli known 
 by everybody, still passed as officially iin- 
 announced. The ceremony was to be 
 performed with the strictest privacy, none 
 but the two families being present, and 
 the young couple departing at once for a 
 year's absence on the Continent. A highly 
 recommended maid, accustomed to foreign 
 travel, had been engaged by Mrs. Osborne, 
 and was now at Atherton. Honor's advice 
 to Mrs. Wilier had been that she only
 
 236 ATHERTON, 
 
 should accompany the fair bride. She 
 knew Arthur well, and felt how tenderly 
 he would be drawn towards the sweet 
 creature, who would depend upon him for 
 her slightest action, her hourly amuse- 
 ment, almost her daily speech. She knew 
 the charm of intelligent ignorance when 
 combined with youth and beauty. Here 
 that ignorance took its most graceful form. 
 It was clearer every day that theirs was 
 no love match. The lady (allowing for 
 her girlish modesty) was too open; the 
 gentleman too reserved. But daily inter- 
 course would substitute for the frail 
 passion, love, the firm but gradual foun- 
 dations of habit, esteem, and afiection: 
 no such bad exchange, after all. So 
 Katy was to go alone. 
 
 Lady Lucy, finding that the spouse she 
 had selected for her niece was devoted to 
 the turf and the dice box, had repented 
 her hasty anger, and had written to request
 
 ATHEPvTON. 237 
 
 her return. A brother of her father, also, 
 struck by her spiiit, or unwilling that so 
 near a relative should be known to fill a 
 dependent situation, had entreated her to 
 make his house her home. But resisting 
 both invitations. Honor had promised 
 Mrs. Warner to remain at the Farm until 
 Katy should return to Atherton. 
 
 Privately as everything was to be con- 
 ducted, the preparations for so long an 
 absence, and the settlement of so large a 
 property, consumed nearly the whole time 
 to the day fixed for the payment of the 
 mortgage; and at last, that very day itself 
 had come to be chosen for signing the 
 deeds and performing the marriage cere- 
 mony. 
 
 Our fi'iend ]\Ir. Langhton, deeply en- 
 gaged in this most important business, and 
 other afiairs connected with the executor- 
 ship, had been little seen at Atherton. 
 Sir Yivian, a bird of ill omen, was known
 
 238 ATHEKTON. 
 
 to be flitting about the neighbourbood, 
 although his very name was carefully kept 
 from the noble owner of the hall, just 
 now furnished with a pleasant excitement 
 in the presence of Mr. Langhton's fa- 
 vourite, Mrs. Osborne. To show her the 
 beauties of the vicinity filled pleasantly 
 the time of expectation, always lingering, 
 and never felt to linger so painfully as 
 when, as in this case, expectation was 
 mingled with anxiety. Kobddy could tell 
 why, nobody perhaps would have confessed 
 to the feeling, but it weighed upon every 
 mind ; and as the time of suspense short- 
 ened (and it wanted now but three days 
 to that fixed for the marriage), the weight 
 pressed more and more heavily; so they 
 tried the old remedy, and di'ove about in 
 hopes of leaving care behind. 
 
 One of Katy's greatest charms was her 
 dark, glossy hair, curling in close rings 
 like the tendrils of the vine, all round her
 
 ATHERTOX. 239 
 
 neck, that swan-like neck on which her 
 head was placed so finely. 
 
 Before he had called her his queen, 
 Mr. Langhton, who loved pet names, and 
 had always petted Katy, used to call her 
 Miss Wigsby. And really it was difficult 
 to imagine that such a quantity of bright 
 curls all grew upon that little head. The 
 bright hair, the bright eyes, ' the bright 
 complexion, the bright teeth, the dimples^ 
 the smiles, and the elastic figure, becoming 
 every day more firm and vigorous — all 
 denoted health as perfect as a woman could 
 enjoy; but perhaps of all these tokens of 
 youthful strength, the bright curls were 
 the most striking. 
 
 Mrs. Bell, proud as she well might be 
 of her beautiful daughter, took especial 
 delight in all that displayed their shining 
 luxuriance. Accordingly she had herself 
 purchased for Katy one of those flapping 
 broad-leaved Leghorn hats, almost in the
 
 240 ATHERTON. 
 
 state in which they leave Tuscany, and 
 brought it to Katy's room this very morn- 
 ing to be worn on an excursion to an an- 
 cient Eoman encampment, commanding 
 the extensive and varied views chosen 
 by the masters of the world for their 
 walled towns and entrenched stations in 
 barbarian lands. 
 
 The party from the hall was to form 
 part of the expedition. Mrs. Bell was to 
 accompany Lady Cardonnel and Mrs. 
 Osborne in the carriage, whilst the gentle- 
 men rode on horseback with the younger 
 ladies. 
 
 Little as the two girls, who lived with 
 each other more as elder sister with 
 younger than as governess and pupil, 
 were disposed to differ, this excursion 
 caused something like a discussion between 
 them. Katy had taken one of her fancies 
 that Honor should ride Britomarte. She 
 wished to see how her two favourites
 
 ATHERTOX. 241 
 
 looked together ; this at least was the 
 reason she alleged. Perhaps her secret 
 thought might be a desire to leave the 
 favourite horse as a parting gift to the 
 friend who staid behind to comfort her 
 grandmamma. Of this she said nothing ; 
 and Honora, asserting her own desire to 
 ride the good old pony as long as opposi- 
 tion on a trifling point seemed wise, at 
 length consented. 
 
 Katy, with the new hat, and its long 
 lutestring ribbons floating on the aii-, 
 looked more than commonly radiant when 
 she joined the party at the gate of the 
 court-yard. Disappointment met her 
 there in the shape of another pet, or rather 
 of his absence. 
 
 Jacob Stokes, a true country boy, had 
 not yet arrived at the age in which 
 countiy boys delight in finery ; those days 
 were yet to come. At present his tenden- 
 cies lay so mnch in a contrary direction, 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 ATHERTON. 
 
 that Katy, whose fii'st thought had been to 
 prociu'e a new suit for this devoted fol- 
 lower, found the new suit want renewal 
 so often, that she had been fain to coax 
 Mr. Langhton into giving the Atherton 
 tailor a permanent and unlimited order for 
 Jacob's apparel. Even this magnificent 
 provision sometimes failed. Jacob's tastes 
 were semi- aquatic, so that his clothes 
 were as often wet as diy. Jacob was a 
 climber, and spent in the air — that is to say, 
 on the tree-tops after squirrels and birds' 
 nests — much of the time not passed in the 
 water, so that his jacket and trousers 
 were much oftener torn than whole. 
 
 On this unlucky day both misfortunes 
 had befallen the young gentleman. He 
 had torn his every day jacket and trousers 
 in the most unseemly manner the night 
 before, in an encounter with a jagged 
 branch in his descent from a fir tree; 
 which tree he had mounted to secure a
 
 ATHERTOX. 243 
 
 pair of ring-doves, intended as a present 
 for Miss Honor, having preferred the total 
 min of his raiment and some damage to 
 his skin to the possible loss of the birds. 
 Whilst on this very morning an awkward 
 ducking fi'om a boat on the mere had 
 soaked his Sunday garments through and 
 through. 
 
 Poor Jacob was an orphan, so that there 
 were no kind female friends to sew up his 
 rents, or to dry his wettings. Indeed, 
 Mrs. Bell, who used to declare that even 
 Katy's fortune could never stand Jacob's 
 waste, was one day heard to admit, in a fit 
 of relenting, '' that to be sure the child had 
 never known the comfort of a mother to 
 scold him." So he put on such rags as 
 did not offend against decency, probably 
 the pre-legacy suit, and being rather 
 ashamed to present himself at the Hall 
 stables — where, being a great favourite with 
 masters and men, he was usually mounted
 
 244 ATHERTON. 
 
 on such occasions, — lie made his appear- 
 ance on his own old donkey, and happening 
 to fall in with his unfriend Mrs. Bell, got 
 sent off so peremptorily that when en- 
 quired after by his young mistress, neither 
 he nor Marigold could be found. 
 
 Mrs. Bell was indignant; she ordered 
 Joseph to attend her daughter. She ha- 
 rangued on Jacob's iniquities : '^ In rags, 
 and on his donkey! — but that boy will 
 ride anything, all Atherton knows that. 
 There is nothing with four legs that Jacob 
 won't ride. Before he was five years old,'' 
 continued she, addressing herself now to 
 an enlarged audience, '^ some show-people 
 who came to the village with a camel and 
 a monkey, put him on the camel's hump, 
 and had well nigh carried him off to take 
 the place of the monkey, only Dr. Glen- 
 ham and Joseph set off in pursuit — the 
 doctor not choosing a Christian child should 
 be carried off for a monkey !^ He cried to
 
 ATHERTOX. 245 
 
 go with, them then; and some day or 
 other you'll see that he'll be riding an 
 elephant !" 
 
 Everybody took Jacob's part ; and IMajor 
 Delancy promised that some fine morning 
 she should see him so smart that she would 
 not know him. 
 
 Whilst this took place in one part of the 
 group, a different dialogue was going on 
 in another. 
 
 ^' Why are you not riding Britomarte ? 
 have you quarrelled with her?" said Lord 
 Delancy to Katy. 
 
 '^JS'o," was the reply; '' but Honor " 
 
 "Oh, Miss Clive!" interrupted Lord 
 Delancy, '' she, I suppose, has quarrelled 
 with the pony !" 
 
 " Is'o, dear Lord Delancy — no, indeed ! 
 I had much ado to make Honor ride Brito- 
 marte, but I wanted to see them together — " 
 and then she stopped suddenly — ^' I'll tell 
 you why another time."
 
 246 ATHERTOX. 
 
 By this time old Joseph had arrived, 
 moTinted on the steady steed that had for 
 a dozen years drawn Mrs. Bell in her 
 one-horse chaise to market ; and dressed in 
 the well-preserved suit in which he had, for 
 at least as many years, driven his good 
 mistress on week days, and attended church 
 on the sabbath; — looking, in short, exactly 
 like what he was, a most respectable farm 
 servant, but matching Lord Delancy's car- 
 riage, postilions and grooms, much worse 
 than Jacob, whether on camel or donkey ! 
 Katy jumped upon her pony; Mrs. Bell 
 was handed into the carriage ; and the 
 cavalcade set forth. 
 
 The road up to the downs on the op- 
 posite side of the valley to the beautiful 
 demesne of Lord Delancy — which, begin- 
 ing in park and gardens, merged into a wild 
 and wooded chase — was little more than 
 a cart track. After leaving the village, 
 with its cornfields and meadows, cultiva-
 
 ATHEETOX. 247 
 
 tion disappeared bit by bit. First came a 
 bit of woodland, graphically called the 
 " Scrubs," divided from the road by a 
 stunted hedge, just now gay with the 
 white blossoms of the wayfaring tree, 
 giving token of a water- course from the 
 hills ; whilst on the other side of the road, 
 gay slips of the beautiful sainfoin, now in 
 full flower, and gayer patches of turnip-seed 
 in its yellow blossom, ran up between 
 masses of russet furze, or the short, parched- 
 up grass on the steep ascent — forming one 
 of those contrasts seldom seen without the 
 aid of man. 
 
 The Scrubs edged off into a ragged fir 
 plantation; many trees looking dead or 
 half dead, the branches on one side being 
 altogether sere and bare; and then the 
 trees ceased altogether in one wild group 
 of Scotch firs, which flung their giant arms 
 across the road, crowning the hill with a 
 boldness worthy of the pencil of Salvator 
 Rosa.
 
 248 ATHEETON. 
 
 Tlicy were now fairly on the do^vns. 
 The whole party paused to look at Ather- 
 ton, which lay beneath them as a picture ; 
 its deep winding road, its bright waters, 
 its grey church, its orchards,? its cottages, 
 its farm, and the magnificent park and 
 mansion, which in spite of all assurance 
 every one felt to be trembling in the 
 balance. 
 
 Lord Delancy gazed on the view, then 
 on his son, and on the two young women, 
 as they sate together near the carriage, 
 Katy bright as the summer air. Honor 
 pale and silent beside her. A bitterness 
 which he could not overcome passed across 
 him as his eye fell upon that pallid face, 
 and noted how cautiously his son avoided 
 meeting those gentle looks. 
 
 ^' Now for the view Avhich I shall show 
 you," said Katy; ^' the view which looks 
 down upon three counties, and sees parts 
 of more than I can tell. Wc must cross
 
 ATHEBTOX. 249 
 
 this ocean of downs, and then descend the 
 willowy bottom, and then climb up the 
 Hollow Way, and there we are." 
 
 ^^ It is not so far as Katy's description 
 would make you think," said Lady Car- 
 donnel parenthetically to Mrs. Osborne. 
 ^^ The view, seen over an abrupt precipice, 
 a sheer descent of craggy turf, is, on a 
 clear day like this, really splendid." 
 
 ^' Why, then, are we waiting ?" asked 
 Lord Delancy ; adding, with the cold re- 
 spect which is so painful to its object, ^' If 
 Miss Clive will ride on, the carriage may 
 follow." 
 
 Honor made way instantly ; and then 
 exerted herself to manage the spirited 
 creature she rode, and keep pace with the 
 cavalcade. 
 
 The level plain was passed at a canter ; 
 and they descended, at a somewhat slower 
 rate, a hill which dipped into a bottom, 
 where sallow bushes betrayed the presence
 
 250 ATHERTON. 
 
 of a stream that first trickled across a road 
 ('^The Hollow Way," as Katy called it,) 
 which seemed hardly wide enough for the 
 carriage, and crept winding up the lofty 
 hill that fronted them ; the steepness being 
 somewhat mitigated by the road sloping 
 diagonally round the shoulder of the hill 
 to the top. On the summit was a narrow 
 table-land, marked by an embankment, 
 said to be of the time of the Eomans, ter- 
 minated by the famous view. 
 
 They paused for a moment in the little 
 valley, the postilions rather unwilling to 
 risk their town-built carriage on so rugged 
 a road, hoping, perhaps, that the ladies 
 might prefer walking up the ascent. No 
 such motion was made. Mrs. Bell was too 
 well pleased to find herself, for the first 
 time, in a carriage and four, to dream of 
 quitting that post of grandeur ; and of the 
 other two Mrs. Osborne feared the fatigue 
 for Lady Cardonnel, and Lady Cardonnel
 
 ATHERTON. 251 
 
 for Mrs. Osborne. So the postilious let the 
 horses wet their mouths at the brooklet 
 that crossed the road, and then slowly pro- 
 ceeded in the wake of the riders. 
 
 Katy was wild with glee. The n-esh air 
 of the hills, always so exhilarating ; the 
 exercise which she loved so well ; the 
 beauty of the day ; above all, the manner 
 in which her two favourites, Honor and 
 Britomarte, became each other — delighted 
 her very heart. Her new hat had fallen 
 back, hanging only by the strings; her 
 glossy curls were all dishevelled by the 
 wind ; and she galloped here and there, all 
 her cares, even the coming wedding, for- 
 gotten ; laughing and shouting with her 
 sweet, young voice, and looking the whilst 
 so exquisitely pretty that nobody cared to 
 stop her. 
 
 Lord Delancy, who saw that she had 
 attracted Arthur's attention, was quite 
 provoked when her mother, in care for
 
 252 ATHERTON. 
 
 her complexion, and rather scandalized 
 at her want of decorum, called to her to 
 put on her hat. 
 
 Katy was at the moment when she re- 
 ceived this command rather ahead of 
 Honora on the lower side of the winding 
 road ; and, chancing to obey it, gave the 
 large flapping Leghorn hat, with its long 
 streamers, such a toss right in the eyes of 
 the high-bred and skittish mare that she 
 sprang off like a racer, with the Hollow 
 Way for a course and the precipice for a 
 goal. 
 
 A general scream issued fi'om the car- 
 riage. 
 
 ^' She is a dead woman," said Lord 
 Delancy, in a voice so deep and unearthly 
 that it was heard through all the shriller 
 exclamations of the terrified women. 
 
 " Follow her ! For God's sake stop her ! 
 Will you let her perish before your eyes ?" 
 cried Lady Cardonnel.
 
 ATHEETON. 253 
 
 The old servant Joseph, to whom this 
 was addressed, answered : 
 
 '^As to stopping her, my lady, that is 
 sooner said than done. And as to fol- 
 lowing, if any one attempts to follow her, 
 he signs her death- waiTant. That mare's 
 thorough-bred, and the sound of another 
 horse following on the hard road would be 
 like whip and spur. The poor young 
 lady has one chance : the hill is the steep- 
 est in the country, and if she can but keep 
 her heart and her seat — " 
 
 "Katy! my Katy I" interrupted Mrs. 
 Bell, with a mother's piteous cry, '^ the 
 pony's off too !" 
 
 And it was indeed ob^dous that the 
 pony was following at full, but unequal 
 speed, the track of the mare. A few 
 seconds made it also e\ddent that this poor 
 animal had not run away, but that it was 
 urged forward by its rider, whose generous 
 but uncalculating efforts to save her friend
 
 254 ATHERTON. 
 
 would probably have no other result than 
 her own destruction. 
 
 Joseph, although his own weight, and 
 the age of his horse, rendered any at- 
 tempt to overtake them out of the ques- 
 tion, was so moved by the cries of his 
 mistress, and the danger of her child, that 
 he galloped forward together with the 
 grooms to render assistance, if assistance 
 were possible, or to bring relief from the 
 terrible uncertainty that prevailed. The 
 carriage horses were also urged to their 
 utmost speed ; and for the first time Major 
 Delancy was missed and enquii-ed for. 
 
 At the moment after Britomarte's start- 
 ing, he had leaped the bank which divided 
 the road from the down, and was now 
 seen pursuing a parallel course higher up 
 the hill ; evidently intending to gain an 
 angle from which he might dart on the 
 terrified steed. It was the only chance of 
 saving Honora, but the party in the carriage
 
 ATHERTOX. 255 
 
 saw with sinking hearts that it diminished 
 every moment ; that the strength of the 
 heavy roadster; and the skill of his rider, 
 would tell as nothing compared with the 
 spirit, the fleetness, and the goading fear 
 of the blood animal on which she was 
 mounted. The mare gained ground at 
 every stroke ; Katy still folloAviug with 
 hopeless perseverance ; and Arthur a little 
 in advance of the pony, but still striving 
 vainly to get up to Honor. 
 
 The road now wound suddenly round 
 the shoulder of the hill, and one by one 
 the riders disappeared from the party in the 
 carriage, whose fear became more intense 
 as the uncertainty increased and the pre- 
 cipice neared. 
 
 jVIi'S. Bell in spite of all dissuasion con- 
 tinued mechanically to scream, "My 
 Katy ! my child ! my child ! my Katy !" 
 Lady Cardonnel was in gasping, sobbing, 
 choking hysterics ; and Mrs. Osborne
 
 25 G ATIIERTON. 
 
 (il'o^\^lC(l in tears. But the person who 
 probably felt most was he who neither 
 wept, nor sighed, nor screamed, the stem 
 and proud Lord Delancy, whose last 
 glance at that gentle creature had been a 
 glance of hatred, whose last word a word 
 of scorn. 
 
 Moments seemed ages in that agony of 
 fear, and yet all dreaded its termination. 
 They urged the drivers forward as if they 
 had dared to hope, and yet they all knew 
 that humanly speaking hope there was none. 
 
 Suddenly a loud discordant shout was 
 heard coming round the side of the hill, 
 and fear for a moment seemed lost in 
 certainty. All felt that it proceeded from 
 Joseph's horror at witnessing the fatal 
 plunge. 
 
 This conclusion passed through every 
 mind, and Katy seemed now the only 
 care ; when suddenly as they were wheel- 
 ing round the steep ascent, Joseph himself
 
 ATHERTOX. 257 
 
 was seen advancing^ waving liis hat and 
 shouting with the voice of a stentor that 
 all was well. 
 
 A few minutes more brought them to 
 their intended destination — tlic Eoman 
 camp — where they found the whole of the 
 actors in the scene as safe as Joseph had 
 asserted, and reinforced by two nevr 
 characters in the shape of Marigold, and 
 Jacob Stokes on his beloved donke}'. 
 
 When they anived, old Joseph had just 
 lifted Honora from her saddle and placed 
 her on the grass, where she sat, 
 very pale, trembling, and silent. Major 
 Delancy, equally silent and equally 
 pale, was holding the pony. Jacob, still 
 seated on his donkey, kept a tight grip of 
 Britomarte, whilst Katy stood leaning over 
 lier dear governess, alternately laughing? 
 and crying ; now kissing the pale cheeks 
 of her friend, now shaking hands with 
 Jacob Stokes ; praising him, defending 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 ATHERTON. 
 
 Britomarte, and accusing herself all in a 
 breath. Mrs. Bell seized on Katy for the 
 double purpose of hugging and scolding, 
 and the rest of the party showered ques- 
 tion after question upon the truant boy 
 and Major Delancy. Prom his short 
 breathless answers and the more detailed 
 account of Katy's squire, it appeared that 
 that faithful adherent, finding himself ex- 
 cluded from the expedition, and thinking, 
 as he expressed it, that his young lady might 
 want him, had set off by a nearer bridle 
 road to the place of destination, where he 
 lay perdu behind the bank. When Brito- 
 marte approached, he and Marigold started 
 up so suddenly before her eyes, that their 
 appearance and his shout of alarm had 
 the effect of turning that sensitive animal 
 from her dangerous path, and caused her so 
 far to slacken her speed, that in clamber- 
 ing over the steep bank that bordered the 
 road on the safer side. Miss Olive's own
 
 I 
 
 ATHERTON. 259 
 
 efforts had stopped her. Jacob, no mean 
 judge, volunteered high praise of the young 
 lady's coui'age and horsemanship : 
 
 '^Miss Katy could not have sate the 
 mare better." 
 
 Katy had been taken care of by her 
 betrothed bridegroom. Too late to stop 
 the first runaway, he had probably saved 
 the life of the second, whose over-ui'ged 
 pony had reached the very brink of the crag 
 without power to check its speed, and now 
 stood quivering in every limb with the 
 sense of escaped danger. 
 
 The whole party, leaving the mother and 
 daughter to their natural transports, had 
 now gathered round Miss Clive, who sate, as 
 in a trance, making no reply to Lady Car- 
 donnel' s congratulations, and neither return- 
 ing nor seeming to notice the affectionate 
 caresses of Mrs. Osborne. She remained 
 seemingly unconscious of all that was 
 
 s2
 
 260 ATIIERTOX. 
 
 passing round her until Lord Delancy 
 asked in a broken voice : 
 
 *^ Are you hurt, Honora ?" 
 
 The name and the accent seemed to 
 thrill through her frame. She shivered ; 
 looked up with one of her sweet smiles, 
 said, ^^^0, 1 am quite well !" and sank back 
 in a fainting fit upon the turf. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to add that none 
 of them looked at the famous prospect 
 they had come to visit.
 
 ATHERTON. 2G1 
 
 CHAPTEE XY. 
 
 TEilPTATIOX. 
 
 Whilst these events were proceediug 
 at the old Eoman Station, the Eectory was 
 the scene of a somewhat unexpected visita- 
 tion. 
 
 It had happened this morning that the 
 good doctor had received a proof of the 
 '" Troades," which, printed at the Univer- 
 sity Press, and submitted to a learned 
 friend in one of the colleges, was enriched 
 with annotations and queries, which how- 
 ever profitable to the future correctness of 
 the edition, had, for the moment, the effect
 
 2o2 ATHERTOX. 
 
 of driving the excellent editor well nigh 
 crazy ! Questions which seemed settled 
 were thrown open ; doubts which had 
 been smoothed down into certainties were 
 resolved into their old unsatisfactory form ; 
 and a universal note of interrogation seemed 
 spread over the new readings, which were 
 to convince every scholar, from Cambridge 
 to Gottingen. Dear Dr. Glenham felt, as 
 many a dabbler in print has felt before 
 him, that the pen of a critical friend is a 
 sharp weapon. 
 
 When the packet arrived he was in the 
 act of dressing; and, stopping the opera- 
 tion of the toilet to look over the proof, 
 ran down, just as he was, to his library, to 
 examine various editions, and muster up 
 authorities for the use of a disputed mono- 
 syllable, which seemed to him a question of 
 life and death. 
 
 Now the doctor adhered rigidly to his 
 old, clerical costume of black stockings
 
 ATHERTON. 263 
 
 and knee breeches ; and having forgotten 
 to leave off the gauze stockings which he 
 wore in the winter (without editing a play 
 of Euripides, one may contrive sometimes 
 to forget that it is summer in. our climate), 
 and being in the act of donning his silken 
 hose, he still presented the somewhat ano- 
 malous appearance of one black leg and 
 one white one, when several hours after- 
 wards, Sir Yivian Delancy was ushered 
 into his library. 
 
 At no point of his editorial labours had 
 that den of disorder assumed such an 
 appearance of confusion as now. Books 
 covered the tables ; books littered the 
 chairs; books strewed the floor. The room 
 looked as untidy as the master — who, be- 
 sides the odd legs, had one knee-buckle 
 unfastened, no studs in either wristband, 
 which straggled forth from his grey dress- 
 ing-gown, and no cravat round his neck — 
 and this at fom* o'clock of a fine summer 
 day!
 
 264 ATHERTON. 
 
 Host and visitor were taken aback; this, 
 however, could not last long. Dr. Glen- 
 ham, always a gentleman, recovered at 
 once from liis learned abstraction, and 
 from the shame of being caught in it ; and 
 Sir Yivian, a man of the world, -svith a 
 point to gain, took care to see as little of 
 the disorder as might be : he even, whilst 
 the rector was clearing a seat for him, 
 contrived to intimate his admiration of 
 the rare scholarship evinced by the books 
 amidst which he stood, and to express 
 something like envy of the learned ab- 
 straction, of which the result would be 
 the enlightenment of the world in general, 
 and of the universities in particular. 
 
 The doctor, now completely aroused, 
 kept his own counsel as to the manner in 
 which his labours had been called to ac- 
 count by one of the most eminent lumi- 
 naries of those universities ; and, waiving 
 his guest's compliments with something
 
 ATHERTOX. 265 
 
 like a deprecatory smile, requested to know 
 in what ho could be of use to him ? 
 
 " You hardly seem to remember me, 
 Dr. Glenham," said the guest ; *' yet, 
 smely, you were Eector of Atherton when 
 I returned from India, longer ago than I 
 like to remember." 
 
 " Yes," replied the doctor, ^^ I was so, 
 but yoiu- ^dsit was, I think, a short one ; 
 and I was much engaged at Cambridge, 
 not having chosen to resign my college 
 tutorship, imtil the examination of my 
 pupils had taken place, — two of them 
 were wranglers of the year. We must, 
 however, have met ; and it does not need 
 a personal acquaintance to inspire me with 
 a deep interest in the welfare of any of 
 the family of Delancy." 
 
 Sir Yivian bowed as accepting the com- 
 pliment, and the good doctor continued — 
 
 " I owe to Lord Delancy the home 
 where m^ days have passed easily, hap-
 
 266 ATHERTOX. 
 
 pily, aud not, I trust, without benefit to 
 my flock. He lias mucli contributed by 
 his society and his co-operation to my 
 personal enjoyment, and my pastoral use- 
 fulness; whilst to his son Arthur I am 
 bound by all those associations which link 
 the old to the young. I have patted his 
 head as a child, and have lived to see him 
 fulfilling the promise of his boyhood, as a 
 brave and honourable man. Next to my 
 own household I love the Delancy's ; and I 
 confess. Sir Vivian, that the sight of you 
 in this house is very pleasant to me, since 
 I cannot but hope, that even now, at the 
 eleventh hour, you have done me the 
 honour to select me as the bearer of friendly 
 overtures to persons who are, after all, your 
 nearest kinsmen. I know that there is in 
 the very incidents of a lawsuit (which is, 
 after all, a sort of warfare) — an element 
 which, Avhile it pushes on to conquest, 
 serves also to embitter the combatants.
 
 ATHERTOX. 267 
 
 But when once the battle is won, it is 
 in the natiu^e of all men — especially, as 
 we are apt to believe of all Englishmen — to 
 forgive and forget — a process much easier, 
 by the way, to the victor than to the van- 
 quished. If you come to me as a peace- 
 maker, I shall most readily accept the 
 office." 
 
 Dr. Glenham spoke in perfect good faith. 
 Lord Delancy, too proud a man to make 
 unnecessary confidences, had never alluded 
 to the private wrongs which had envenomed 
 the one great wound; and the simple 
 scholar, ignorant of the desperate state of 
 his noble friend's affairs, hoped and be- 
 lieved that the sore might yet be healed 
 by a few concessions on either side, and 
 
 that Sir Yivian had fixed upon him as 
 
 « 
 the mediator. 
 
 '' First, let me ask, my good sir, whe- 
 ther you happen to know how matters 
 stand betwixt us ?" inquired his guest.
 
 268 ATHERTON. 
 
 " No other way," replied the Doctor, 
 ^' than as all men who read the papers 
 know of the great will cause. One of those 
 causes terrible to the contending parties, in 
 which, wherever the abstract right may lie, 
 there is on either side such a show of rea- 
 son and such a chance of success that 
 lawyers may honestly urge on their clients 
 from term to term, from year to year, from 
 lustre to lustre, until the expenses of the 
 loser may even exceed the value of the ori- 
 ginal object of contention. In such a case 
 it behoves the rich man w^ho succeeds to 
 consider the state of the poor kinsman who 
 loses, and — " 
 
 ^^ Why, there it is," interrupted Sir 
 Vivian. '^ There is the crying injustice ! 
 They, the losers and their friends, talk 
 of the great law-suit as the cause of their 
 ruin, utterly forgetting the reckless extra- 
 vagance of generation upon generation, 
 — builders of mansions, collectors of pio-
 
 ATHERTON. 26 
 
 hires, furnishers of libraries, wasters and 
 spendthrifts in every shape ; and then — 
 ]N'ay, hear me out, good doctor; — then, 
 Avhen the first and only man of their race, 
 who for two centuries has known how to 
 make money and how to keep it, steps in 
 to preserve the old property in the old 
 name, he is visited with as much reproach 
 and reprobation as if, in lending his own 
 money, he had committed a highwa}^ rob- 
 ber}', or as if demanding it back were a 
 murder." 
 
 " I am to understand then, Sir Yivian,*' 
 said the Eector, "that the report which 
 announced you as the real holder of the 
 large mortgages on your kinsman's pro- 
 perty is true ? And if you have indeed ad- 
 vanced the money with the view of retain- 
 ing the old estates in the old name, and 
 making Major Delancy your heir in fact, 
 as he is in law, I for one, shall hear of such 
 a pui-pose with unmingled pleasure and 
 admiration."
 
 270 ATIIERTON. 
 
 Sir Yivian answered the part of this 
 speech which suited him, leaving the con- 
 chision unnoticed. 
 
 ^' Yes, I hold mortgages over the entire 
 property ; and if not redeemed by twelve 
 o'clock at noon on the day after to-mor- 
 row, notice of foreclosure having been duly 
 given, the estates and manors of Athorton 
 and Delancy, with all their royalties and 
 dependencies, become absolutely mine. It 
 was not, however, of this. Dr. Glenham, 
 that I came to speak. They tell me that 
 you are excellent as a parish priest, — the 
 friend as well as the pastor of your flock ; 
 and I come to make appeal to you in that 
 character, in behalf of the widow and the 
 orphan — not such as require the common 
 succour that riches can give ; but those to 
 whom riches has proved a peril far greater 
 than poverty ; the simple-minded parents 
 who are about to fling the richest heiress 
 in England, herself almost a child, into the 
 arms of a landless and penniless soldier."
 
 I 
 
 ATHERTON. 271 
 
 ^^ Be very sure, Sir Yivian," said the 
 Doctor, " that the whole circumstances of 
 the estate are known to them all. Mrs. 
 Warner declared to me herself, that the 
 son of her old landlord, one whom she had 
 known from his earliest childhood, was in 
 her eye preferable to the son of the richest 
 Duke in England. Katy will have enough 
 for both." 
 
 " A man ten years her senior !" 
 " Pshaw ! my good sir ! — a man of six- 
 and-twenty and a girl of sixteen are con- 
 temporaries. Katy, to be sure, is full 
 young. But these great heii's are some- 
 what in the position of princes, and are 
 affianced and wedded at an earlier age than 
 common mortals. Poor things ! it is a 
 part of their destiny to lose the joyous 
 privilege of girlhood, the happy years 
 that come between the restraints of the 
 child and the cares of the matron. But 
 the yoimg couple are going abroad, where,
 
 272 ATHERTON. I 
 
 without any set form of instruction, so ] 
 quick and docile a girl as Katy will insen- 
 sibly acquire all that is wanting to fit her j 
 for the station she will have to fill. 'No i 
 man is more accomplished than Major De- 
 lancy, or more calculated to train a clever i 
 uneducated girl into a cultivated wife. 
 She is most fortunate in having fallen into | 
 such hands." 
 
 ^' You think so?" said Sir Vivian, with a J 
 very peculiar expression. Then drawing ; 
 his chair close to his host he continued in 
 a low voice and with fi-equent pauses : — ! 
 
 *^ Have you seen, Dr. Glenham, a young j 
 woman, b}" name Honora Clive, who now | 
 fills the post of governess to Miss Warner ? -- 
 Yes ? You know her then ? Did you 
 ever hear, that three years ago, that young 
 lady was known as the daughter of Colonel i 
 Clive, and of his wife Lady Honora, daugh- 
 ter of the famous beauty, the Countess of \ 
 Eossborough, and connected with half the
 
 ATHERTON. 273 
 
 noble families in Ireland ? Xo ? You did 
 not know this ? Well, this young lady, 
 whose father and brother were then alive, 
 was the object of an idolatrous passion on 
 the part of Arthur Delancy. You look 
 mistrustfully. Ask Lady Cardonnel ; ask, 
 if you will, Major Delancy or Miss Cliye. 
 The}' were quartered together at Valen- 
 ciennes during the time the allied armies 
 occupied France. The brother and the 
 lover were bosom friends." 
 
 '^Do you mean to say that they were 
 betrothed '?" enquired Dr. Glenham. 
 
 '' Of that I know nothing. What I do 
 know is that three years ago he was 
 madly in love. The father and brother 
 were living then ; now they are dead ; and 
 she is here a poor governess, the hired 
 governess of his destined bride." 
 
 ^^ A strange tale !" exclaimed the Eector, 
 in spite of himself much startled. 
 
 '' A true tale !'' said the visitor, "on that 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 ATHERTON. 
 
 I "will pledge my life. Make the best 
 you can of it, and you mil find the 
 poor girl deserted and the rich one 
 married. You know IMiss Clive, you 
 say. I have never seen her; but I 
 have heard and I can well believe that the 
 elegant and cultivated woman still main- 
 tains her influence ; that the red and 
 white of Katy's cheek is valueless in her 
 suitor's eyes, compared with the grace, 
 the talent, the composed sweetness of her 
 rival. Think you yourself what chance of 
 domestic felicity may be found in an 
 alliance beginning with a preference for 
 another. Hearken, Dr. Glenham, these 
 women are, as it were, flung upon your 
 protection. It becomes your character and 
 youi- ofiice to acquaint Mrs. Warner with 
 what you have heard ; to caution her that 
 the future happiness, aye, and the future 
 conduct and reputation of a girl so yoimg, 
 so beautiful, and so unguarded as her grand-
 
 ATHEETON. 275 
 
 daughter, may be wrecked in this union. 
 There is no man whose position renders him 
 so fit to give this warning. There is no one," 
 added he, in a still lower voice, '^ so in- 
 terested in the warning being heeded. 
 Tell her to make her granddaughter at 
 once a ward in Chancery; and then, if three 
 years hence, the fine and spirited lad, 
 her old playmate, who did not wait for 
 her riches to lay his heart at her feet, 
 should be objected to for want of wealth, 
 I promise to settle upon him all this 
 estate of Atherton, with its goodly farms 
 and manors, its waters and its woodlands, 
 its chases and its downs — aye, and the ad- 
 vowson to boot, which would be a provision 
 for his brother. Break off this marriage — 
 only break off this marriage — and rely on 
 me for more than I have promised." And 
 without waiting for an answer Sir Vivian 
 departed. 
 
 And what said our good Doctor, as 
 
 T 2
 
 276 ATHERTON. 
 
 still with one white log and one black, 
 he sank back into his seat ? 
 
 " Tempter !" cried he, ^^ tempter !" 
 It is one of the safeguards of the 
 simple, good folk of this world, that the 
 cunning wicked ones seldom give them 
 credit for real goodness. They think, for 
 the most part, that everybody is market- 
 able, and that any resistance they may 
 happen to meet with will yield to a higher 
 bidding ; and so they lose the benefit of 
 much previous caution by a too open avowal 
 of their ulterior purpose. 
 
 Had Sir Yivian contented himself with 
 the impression which he had really made, 
 by stating that which was actually true 
 of Major Delancy and Miss Clive, and 
 garnishing that truth with his own false 
 inferences, he would so far have carried 
 his point as to have sent the Doctor full of 
 alarm to caution 'Mrs. Warner. The allu- 
 sion to Harry, and the bribe of the
 
 ATHERTON. 277 
 
 bequest of Atherton, showed at once that 
 either a revenge was his object, for which 
 no price could be too high; or that, as 
 seemed most probable, ho feared that the 
 long- coveted property should be snatched 
 from his grasp at the last moment, re- 
 deemed by Eichard Strange's hoards. 
 
 " I will go to her," thought the Doctor, 
 ^' to warn her against this man's machina- 
 tions, I'll go to her at once,'' resolved he, 
 magnanimously, throwing aside the Greek 
 commentator which had stolen into his 
 hand; ''and then I'll come back and put 
 up the proof. After all I was a fool to 
 vex myself about my good friend's criti- 
 cisms. He is an able man, a very able 
 man ; but he has not given himself to this 
 play for six months as I have done. So I 
 shall stick to my own readings, and desire 
 the printer to send the other sheets 
 straight to me."
 
 278 ATHERTON. 
 
 A wise resolution, which, to the honour 
 of both these worthies, caused no coolness 
 on either side.
 
 ATHERTON, 279 
 
 CHAPTEE XYI. 
 
 EELENTINGS. 
 
 "When Dr. Glenham reached the Great 
 Farm, he found its excellent mistress just 
 recovering from the emotion which she 
 had undergone, in hearing of the danger 
 of the two girls, who might be said to 
 divide her heart between them: Honor's 
 sweetness had fairly captivated Mrs. 
 Warner. 
 
 " Think if we had lost her ! " exclaimed 
 the old lady, ^^ Katy would have died too ; 
 for, first and last, her giddiness was the 
 cause of the danger. She would insist on
 
 280 ATHERTON. 
 
 Honor's riding the mare. Then she flirted 
 her great hat right in front of that skittish 
 creature's eyes. And then, poor thing, 
 she set off as hard as the pony could lay 
 legs to the groimd, to follow the runaway, 
 thus causing her to redouble her speed. 
 "We never can be thankful enough to that 
 little lad, Jacob Stokes, who is always in 
 the way when he is wanted, and was cer- 
 tainly, under Providence, the saving of 
 dear Honor; as Major Dclancy, by his 
 great presence of mind and admirable 
 horsemanship, was the rescuer of Katy. 
 What a blessing it is to think that that 
 dear child will have such a protector 
 through the trials of life." 
 
 *^I am exactly of your opinion, Mrs. 
 "Warner," said the Doctor ; '' but I have 
 just had a visitor whose object was to 
 inspire both of us with very different 
 feelings." 
 
 And then, being alone with the good
 
 ATHERTON. 281 
 
 lady — Mrs. Bell having insisted on the 
 young ladies' lying down, and being 
 engaged in narratiag the escape, and 
 dilating upon Jacob's merits to everybody 
 who would listen to her — he related the 
 whole conversation. 
 
 '' May Heaven forgive him ! " said she. 
 '^ He must be as old as I am, and yet he 
 thinks of nothing but money and revenge. 
 The money he must leave behind him, 
 as poor Eichard Strange has done. But 
 revenge — that is a grievous load to carry 
 with him to the grave, and beyond the 
 grave ! May God tui'n his heart, for He 
 alone can I As to this matter, dear Dr. 
 Glenham, it is certain that Arthur Delancy 
 did propose to Honor, three years ago, 
 and that she refused him. He told Katy 
 so himself, and that accounts for a sort of 
 shyness which has always existed between 
 them ; men seldom pardon a rejection of 
 that sort. It always oversets Honor to
 
 282 ATHERTON. 
 
 think of the days when she lived with her 
 father and her brother Lionel. You know 
 that she gave her little portion to purchase 
 Captain Olive's commission, and to pay 
 his debts. He seems to have been one of 
 those charming persons (not very prudent) 
 for whom wives, and sisters, and mothers, 
 often do sacrifice their all. Then her 
 father's death left her homeless, and she 
 lived with an aunt, who was a match- 
 maker. But Honor did not like match- 
 making ; so she came here : a blessing 
 wherever she goes I I should miss her 
 almost as much as Katy." 
 
 The next morning brought Mr. Osborne 
 and the marriage settlements, but no Mr. 
 Langhton. His partner, however, assured 
 Lord Delancy that he might rely on seeing 
 him with the money by ten o'clock the 
 succeeding forenoon, wh en the deeds were 
 to be signed, and the money at once 
 paid to Sir Yivian, to whom and to whose
 
 ATHERTON. 283 
 
 solicitor formal notice to that effect had 
 been given. This was driving matters 
 fearfully close ; but Mr. Langhton had 
 never yet failed, Mr. Osborne asserted, in 
 a business appointment, and would cer- 
 tainly not begin his short -comings with a 
 client whom he so much respected, a friend 
 whom he so much loved. The reason 
 assigned for the delay was the receipt of 
 a large sum of the Strange effects, which 
 was to be paid late that evening. He was 
 also to bring a special license. 
 
 Accordingly, the gentlemen were closeted 
 all the morning, reading over the settle- 
 ments at their absent friend's request. 
 Lord Delancy's composure surprised his 
 son; who, indeed, showed more anxiety on 
 his account than he did. 
 
 The ladies had agreed to take an early 
 dinner at the Hall, and spend the afternoon 
 in fishing on the mere. But only Mrs. 
 Bell and her daughter arrived. ^Lrs.
 
 284 ATHERTON. 
 
 "Warner had been a little shaken by the 
 after-shock of yesterday's alarm, and 
 Honor stayed to take care of her. 
 
 Between six and seven these two friends 
 were seated together in an arbonr, where 
 lilac and acacia, the wandering clematis, 
 and the tasselled lime gave fragrance the 
 whole summer through. At this moment, 
 however, a profusion of honeysuckles, strag- 
 gling and twisting amongst them all, shed 
 their unrivalled perfume upon the air, 
 beginning to emit their delicious odours 
 just as the sun declines and the dew rises. 
 In front of the arbour a broad turf- walk 
 led to the house, bordered on either side 
 by a row of pinks, alternately white and 
 red, backed up by clumps of white rocket, 
 double July-flowers and fraxinella, and 
 these again by moss-roses, white lilies, 
 and sweet peas. Behind them nicely 
 trained espaliers formed a verdant wall, 
 concealing a kitchen garden, which, if
 
 ATHERTOX. 285 
 
 it had existed in our days, would have 
 carried off half the prizes in the country. 
 That kitchen garden was the pride of old 
 Joseph's heart. 
 
 He, however, was away in the hay-field. 
 It was his little grandson Jacob, who had 
 just deposited upon the tea-table, at which 
 Honor was officiating, a plate of straw- 
 berries, real hautbois, which he declared 
 could not be matched at the Hall. They 
 came from Miss Katy's own garden, and 
 he had been sent from the lake on purpose 
 to gather them for her grandmamma and 
 Miss Honor. "MissKaty,^' Jacob said, ^^had 
 had a great mind to come herself ; but the 
 Major had been answerable for his choosing 
 the best, and said he might be trusted. 
 He liked the Major. Should he say the 
 strawberries were good ?" 
 
 ^'Excellent! Jacob. Grandmamma's 
 kindest love," said Honor. 
 
 Jacob turned to go, and at the side of 
 the path stood Lord Delancy.
 
 286 ATHERTON. 
 
 ^^ There is no mischief, dear Mrs. 
 "Warner? No accident," said he, giving 
 Jacob a kind parting tap. ^' I am not a 
 herald of ill fortune. But, having been 
 engaged all the morning with important 
 papers, and unable to get here, I could not 
 satisfy myself without ascertaining in 
 person that you have not suffered from the 
 agitation of hearing of our late sad adven- 
 ture, and that she whose danger caused 
 us all so much alarm has recovered the 
 physical ill effects of such peril. We saw 
 yesterday, that, perfect as was her self- 
 command in the hour of struggle, her 
 strength gave way when the demand for 
 it had passed." 
 
 "Oh, my lord !" said Honor, " do not 
 speak so kindly, or I shall give way again. 
 There are some voices whose sympathy 
 goes straight to the heart. Your goodness 
 would overset me quite." 
 
 " Well, you and Mrs. Warner must give
 
 ATHERTON. 287 
 
 me some tea," replied lie cheerfully, as 
 Eaehel and her followers appeared in the 
 walk with the bright copper tea-kettle and 
 the whole apparatus ; ^^ and then, A^ith her 
 leave, we will have a little talk." 
 
 Nowhere is the meal so dear to woman, 
 the English tea eaten in such perfection, 
 as at an old-fashioned farm-house. The 
 thick, fresh cream, the newly-churned 
 butter, the home-baked bread, the home- 
 made cakes, and the female ministry, in 
 the sweet evening air, perfumed with 
 flowers and with the passage of heavy 
 waggons loaded with hay — all made it a 
 feast of country luxuries ; yet, even with 
 the addition of Katy's strawberries, the 
 meal passed away almost untasted. 
 
 ^Nearly at the same moment with her 
 serving-maidens, Mrs. Warner retired to 
 the house ; making a pretext of putting in 
 water a white rose, in which she had found 
 the earliest golden beetle of the year.
 
 288 ATHERTON. 
 
 Katy loved to look at those glittering 
 green wings, and then to return the pretty 
 insect unharmed to its tree. 
 
 ^' You stay there, my dear," was her 
 parting injunction. So, very calm and very 
 pale, Honor stayed. 
 
 Paler and less calm, Lord Delancy stood 
 before her. 
 
 . ^' I come to you, a culprit. Miss Clive; 
 — nay ; hear me out, dear Honor ! I know 
 that you desu-e none of these confessions, 
 but it is a comfort to me to pour them 
 forth. When, between five and six years 
 ago, my son, then a very young man, made 
 acquaintance with your accomplished bro- 
 ther, one of the most promising officers 
 in the service, I was delighted to pro- 
 mote in every way I could, an intimacy 
 which so thoroughly commanded my ap- 
 probation. They visited me together at 
 Delancy Castle, and at my house in town ; 
 and I travelled with them in Switzerland,
 
 ATHERTOX. 289 
 
 Germany, and Italy ; never separating, in 
 short, until the war which terminated at 
 Waterloo recalled the young men to their 
 respective regiments, whilst I myself re- 
 turned to England almost as much attached 
 to Lionel Clive as to my own Arthur. Little 
 did either divine that a few short months 
 would cause me to repent that intimacy ; 
 that the chance which threw my son into 
 the same town with Lionel's father and 
 sister — already predisposed to be his Mends, 
 from the friendship which united him with 
 their son and brother — should change all my 
 feelings towards the family. But already, 
 although I dared not own it even to my- 
 self, I felt — I knew, that the fatal suit on 
 which all our fortunes were staked was 
 virtually lost ; and that, in marrying a 
 girl of high family and small portion, 
 Arthur was insuring misery to himself and 
 to her. I found all my fears verified when 
 I heard from Lady Cardonnel that, for the 
 
 VOL. I. V
 
 290 ATHERTON. 
 
 first time in his life, he loved a woman 
 worthy of him in every sense of the word. 
 I told her (what indeed she already 
 guessed) how matters stood with me; and 
 her next letter brought the unexpected 
 tidings that Arthur had sought your hand 
 and had been rejected. When my son 
 returned to England this subject was never 
 mentioned. Then came successive blows 
 upon your house and mine ; the death of 
 poor Lionel, followed so rapidly by that of 
 Colonel Clive ; the loss of this law-suit, and 
 the discovery of the real mortgagee. In 
 these miserable money anxieties every 
 generous feeling seems to die ; and this 
 passage of Arthur's life was forgotten like a 
 dream ; until, most unexpectedly, I found 
 Miss Clive in the governess of the young 
 girl — the very sweet young girl (let 
 me do her no injustice !) whom circum- 
 stances had induced me to select as my 
 future daughter-in-law. The name, the
 
 ATHERTON. 291 
 
 christian name, the face and voice so 
 like poor Lionel, and, more than all, the 
 averted looks of Arthur, convinced me 
 that I saw indeed the Honor Clive whom 
 he had so loved." 
 
 Here Honor broke in — " ITay ; now, my 
 lord, hear me, and believe me, I conjure 
 you, when I say that, strange as it seems, I 
 never heard the name of Atherton in con- 
 junction with yours; nor ever, till we 
 were at the gates of this house, heard 
 Lord Delancy mentioned as the landlord of 
 Mrs. Warner. Then, Mr. Langhton can tell 
 you ho w earnestly I entreated him to return. ' ' 
 
 ^^He has told me so," said Lord Delancy. 
 '^ I know that you were ignorant of the 
 connexion." 
 
 * ' Without confessing all that had passed, ' ' 
 continued she, '^ I felt that I could not 
 convey to Mr. Langhton the strong motives 
 that prompted my desire to return. I 
 submitted therefore to enter the family, 
 
 V 2
 
 292 ATHEETON. 
 
 and to incur the risk of a suspicion, which 
 I rejoice to find is now swept away from 
 your lordship's mind. And, indeed, ex- 
 cept the grief of seeing my dear brother's 
 friends so cold to his poor sister (and that 
 is over now), what haVm has been done ? 
 Major Delancy, except in one generous 
 expression of regret to see me in a depen- 
 dant situation, has never breathed a word 
 which could imply a recollection of our 
 former acquaintance ; and when to-mor- 
 row he carries away as his bride that 
 sweetest child of all the earth, fresh and 
 pure as one of her own roses, he will not, 
 I think, find her the worse for the six 
 months that we have spent together in 
 sisterly love." 
 
 " Honor !" said Lord Delancy, ^' I come 
 to say to you that I repent not only of my 
 sins towards you (those, I see, that you have 
 forgiven), but of my deep wrongs towards 
 Arthur and towards mvself. I have been
 
 ATHERTON. 293 
 
 carried away by many passions, all of 
 them evil, — by pride, by hatred, by an 
 inordinate love of station and position, and 
 an inordinate worship of my own family. 
 Partly, too, I have been led astray by sins 
 that hide themselves in fairer names, — by a 
 devotion to art as it lives in splendid man- 
 sions, and in great collections, — ^by a love 
 of science and of learning, as seen in great 
 libraries, — of fine scenery as shown in drest 
 gardens : as if beauty were not as general 
 as the blue sky and the green earth ! — as 
 if the best books were not also the com- 
 monest ! — as if home were not as dear in 
 the cottage as in the palace ! The one thing, 
 Honor, that cannot be supplied is love. It 
 is my firm belief that Arthur's affections 
 are still yours ; and I come to you to lay 
 his fate and mine at your feet. Let this 
 mercenary marriage be broken off. Let 
 us go forth poor and happy. There will still 
 bo something left. The Commander-in*
 
 294 ATHERTON. 
 
 Chief knew and prized your father — knows 
 and prizes Arthur. I shall not be too 
 proud to share a soldier's home ; and if I 
 have seemed proud and stem to you, 
 Honor, only consent to be my daughter, 
 and you shall find how well your father 
 will pay his long debt of love." 
 
 Honor leaned her head on her hands. 
 Perhaps slie prayed for power to resist 
 what was, indeed, a sore temptation. If 
 so, her prayer was granted. She looked 
 up with gentle composure. 
 
 *^ My dear lord," she said, ^^ I thank 
 you from the bottom of my heart, for a 
 goodness and a confidence which will be a 
 comfort to me as long as I live. But this 
 which you propose must not be. These 
 dear and excellent women who have be- 
 haved so nobly and so trustingly must not 
 be abandoned. Strong, indeed, must have 
 been your determination to sacrifice your 
 own wishes and your own interests to the
 
 ATHERTOX. 295 
 
 fancied wishes of your son, when it caused 
 you to forget that your honour and his are 
 pledged to Katy, and to those who have 
 influenced her in this engagement. Be 
 assured that Major Delancy would not 
 allow such a sacrifice. Be certain also, 
 that no happiness could follow an union so 
 brought about. He will find, as we all 
 find, that the only true felicity is in the 
 path of duty. He and that sweetest girl 
 will depart to-mon-ow for the Continent — 
 she looking to him for every act and word. 
 Think how that will endear her to one so 
 kind and generous as Arthur ! As for 
 me, I shall only have too many homes ! 
 Mrs. Warner, Mrs. Osborne, Lady Car- 
 donnel, Mr. Langhton, my own relations, 
 are all earnest in invitations ; and your lord- 
 ship will see, before many years are passed, 
 that I shall be amongst your own guests 
 at Atherton, with no other feeling on any 
 side than that of the sincerest friendship*'^
 
 296 ATHERTOX. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIL 
 
 A WEDDING MORNING. 
 
 The next morning there was not a 
 cloud in the sky, hardly a breeze to wave 
 the uncut grass in the upland pastures i 
 nerver was dawn so lovely as that which 
 ushered in the wedding-day of the heir of 
 Atherton and his blooming bride. 
 
 It had need be pregnant with good 
 omens, that busy morning, when, be the 
 marriage private as it may, so much of 
 the outward and tlie frivolous is mingled 
 strangely and jarringly with the deepest 
 emotions, with trembling hope and lurk-
 
 ATHERTOX, 297 
 
 ing fear. Ah, those orange-blossoms ! 
 those Brussels veils I how often have they 
 overhung tearful eyes and pallid cheeks! 
 Taken at the very best, say that affection 
 have presided over the union, let friends 
 consent and fortune smile — even then 
 what a wrench it is from old habits, old 
 homes, and old affections. That bride- 
 groom had need be very dear for whose 
 sake the beloved resigns the companions 
 of her whole maiden life, the familiar 
 household names, the every-day sights 
 and sounds, the thousand cherished asso- 
 ciations, of which the full charm is never 
 felt till they are lost. 
 
 With Katy it was a more than ordi- 
 nary plunge. She left not only the dear 
 home of which she had been the delight, 
 but the safe and happy station in which 
 she had been reared ; — that station too 
 low for pride, too affluent for want, full 
 of healthy occupation, and exempt from
 
 298 ATHERTOX. 
 
 all restraint except that of womanly pro- 
 priety, wliicli is perhaps amongst the most 
 bjessed upon earth. She was to return to 
 Atherton, hut she left for ever the Great 
 Farm. Poor Katy ! 
 
 It seemed as if until that morning she 
 had never fully realized her position. She 
 hung round her mother's neck ; she clung 
 to her grand mother's knees; she poured 
 forth floods of tears on Honor's bosom. It 
 is quite certain that she hugged old 
 Eachel, Flora, Marigold, Britomarte, and 
 the pony ; it is not quite certain that she 
 did not hug Jacob Stokes. 
 
 The first drop of consolation came from 
 that young gentleman : 
 
 '' Never mind me, Miss Katy ! Don't 
 take leave of me, I'm going too," cried 
 Jacob. '^ Don't you see how fine I am ? 
 I'm to be your page, or whatever you 
 choose to make of me, and Britomarte and 
 Marigold are to follow with the Major's
 
 ATHEETON. 299 
 
 horses. That was settled last night in the 
 boat. The Major asked me how you liked 
 your new maid, and whether I thought 
 you had a fancy for any more of your old 
 people. Bless you, Miss Katy, you may 
 carry away half Atherton if you like. He 
 and the old Lord think of nothing but 
 making you happy — just look at my 
 jacket?" 
 
 Katy turned him round and round; 
 admired the silver filligree buttons ; 
 thought how kind it was to take with 
 her the things she had been used to at 
 home ; wiped away her tears, and was com- 
 forted. 
 
 Mr. Langhton's non-arrival the night 
 before had rendered it necessary (as has 
 been said elsewhere) to transact on that 
 very wedding morning the formal oiSicial 
 business of the redemption of the title- 
 deeds. He had written in the clearest 
 manner to Lord Delancy that he should ar-
 
 300 ATHERTON. 
 
 rive at ten o'clock ; that the settlements 
 should then be signed, the money paid, and 
 the young couple married. The Delancy 
 Arms was the spot fixed upon for redeem- 
 ing the securities, and none who knew 
 Mr. Langhton could allow themselves to 
 doubt of his being there in time* 
 
 Accordingly the party from the Hall, 
 and Dr. Glenham, met at nine o'clock at 
 the farm, the bridegroom bringing no other 
 present to the flower-loving girl than a 
 nosegay of such as she loved best. They 
 suited well her delicate dress; and the 
 beauty which, enhanced by sensibility, 
 seemed more Avinning than ever. 
 
 Mr. Osborne had brought with hinl the 
 unsigned settlements, which lay on a table 
 at one end of the old stone hall, where the 
 breakfast was set out, and the company 
 assembled. They proceeded to discuss the 
 viands, partly, as the lawyer observed, to 
 ^ave time, partly to beguile by any sort of
 
 ATHERTOX. 301 
 
 occupation the hour that would probably 
 elapse before the arrival of the guardiau, 
 without whose presence all these prepara- 
 tions would be vain. 
 
 The breakfast was silent and sad. A 
 doubt, for which they would have found it 
 difficult to account, had crept upon most 
 of the party. 
 
 Mr. Osborne, who would have gone to 
 the stake upon his partner's good faith, and 
 who was besides better acquainted than 
 the rest with the cause of his absence, be- 
 gan to count up the possible impediments 
 to his return. 
 
 His wife even more reliant upon Ste- 
 phen, and quite ignorant of the eventuali- 
 ties which alarmed her husband, be- 
 gan seriously to suspect that Sir Vivian 
 (of whom she had pretty much the notion 
 that a child has of some bad genius in an 
 Eastern Tale) might have waylaid and 
 murdered their admirable friend.
 
 302 ATHERTOX. 
 
 Dr. Glenham, remenibering his recent 
 visit, thouglit he had found some more 
 supple agent, innkeeper or postilion, to 
 drive the good lawyer in a wrong direction, 
 or to overturn the chaise. 
 
 Lady Cardonnel, accustomed to her bro- 
 ther-in-law's ill fortune, thought that some 
 new stroke of fate had interposed to pre- 
 vent the clearance of his property. 
 
 The mother and grandmother, now that 
 the trying moment approached, thought 
 only of the grief of parting, and rejoiced 
 in every delay. 
 
 Major Delancy looked at the two girls 
 as they sate in silence side by side, and 
 hand in hand, and felt that the sacrifice 
 must be made, and would probably be 
 made in vaiu. 
 
 His father was calm. It seemed as if 
 his anxiety was only for his son ; and that 
 the rescue of his ancestral property from 
 his treacherous kinsman had become a se- 
 condary object.
 
 ATHERTOX. 303 
 
 Ten o'clock struck. It was heard first from 
 a pretty French time-piece, on the mantel- 
 piece, a present from Lady Cardonnel ; then 
 from the old house clock in the kitchen ; 
 then from the church tower ; then from 
 the great turret clock at the Hall. 
 
 *^ These country clocks are never right/' 
 said Mr. Osborne ; ^^ I set my watch yes- 
 terday by the Horse Guards." 
 
 On consulting that watch it told the 
 same tale ; so did the watches of the other 
 gentlemen ; so did the old sundial which 
 Honor ran to examine. 
 
 It seemed as if the charm of Mr. Langh- 
 ton's punctuality* was broken. He had 
 fixed a certain hour ; that hour was passed, 
 and he had not arrived. Nobody blamed 
 him. They who loved the good lawyer, 
 which included everybody present, began, 
 some loudly and some silently, to entertain 
 the most unreasonable fears for his safety. 
 
 " Can Sir Vivian have petitioned the
 
 304 ATHERTON. 
 
 Chancellor to make Katy a ward of the 
 coui't?'' enquired Dr. Glenham of Mr. 
 Osborne. 
 
 ^^The Chancellor is cognizant of the 
 matter," was the reply. 
 
 ^^Has any one heard of Sir Yivian to- 
 day or yesterday ?" asked Major Delancy. 
 
 ^' I saw him with two other gentlemen at 
 the Delancy Arms, as I came up the vil- 
 lage," said the Eector. 
 
 Time crept on. The minute hand ad- 
 vanced upon the clock ; the shadow tra- 
 versed the old sundial; and eleven was 
 heard tinkling from the little French time- 
 piece, jangling loudly from the kitchen, and 
 pealing in deep tones, softened by distance, 
 from the church tower and the Hall. 
 
 The suspense now became intolerable. 
 Again, for the twentieth time, Mr. Osborne 
 walked into the court to look or listen 
 for the expected carriage. 
 
 ^' Don't you think," enquired Dr. Glen-
 
 ATHERTON. 305 
 
 ham, when he returned again unsuccess- 
 ful ; " does not it seem to you better 
 that the settlements should be signed? 
 Mr. Langhton will then have only to 
 glance at the signatures, and carry the 
 money at once to the mortgagee. 
 
 A momentary pause ensued, agitated 
 and agitating. The lawyer made no 
 reply. 
 
 '' Surely it will be best,'* said Lady 
 Cardonnel. ^^ Arthur ! Katy!" 
 
 Major Delancy advanced to lead his 
 fair brida to the table, but all on a sudden 
 Katy escaped from his hands, and flung 
 herself at her grandmother's feet. 
 
 ^^ Grandmamma ! dear grandmamma ! 
 Major Delancy does not love me ! How 
 should he, poor ignorant child that I am ? 
 He does not love me, and he does love 
 dear Honor. He does not say so. He 
 will not say so. But I know it. I feel 
 it. Aye!'' said she, in a lower voice, '^ and 
 
 VOL I. X
 
 306 ATHERTON. 
 
 Honor loves him. I always thought so, I 
 don't know why; and perhaps I ought not 
 to say such a thing. Eut I am sure of it. 
 Only see how she is crying at this moment. 
 And look at him. And look at dear Lord 
 Delancy. They love each other, and it has 
 been that thought which has kept me from 
 the feeling which would otherwise have made 
 me so unhappy now. Listen ! Grandmamma. 
 One half of this money will pay ojQP these 
 mortgages. Let dear Honor have it as if 
 she were really my sister ; and let her 
 marry Major Delancy ; and let me stay 
 with mamma and you. I shall be as 
 happy as the day is long, when Honor is 
 happy too ; and let her live at the Hall, 
 and come and see us every day. What 
 could we do without Honor ? How could 
 we be happy if we made her miserable ? 
 Let Arthur and Honor have this money, 
 dear grandmamma ! " 
 
 " Oh ! that I could, my Katy ! " said
 
 ATHERTON. 307 
 
 Mrs. Warner, her venerable head shakirm 
 more than ever. ^^Biit you are a minor. 
 my child, and till you are of age we can 
 do nothing." 
 
 ^' Ah ! " said Katy, " I am sure Mr. 
 Langhton can manage it ; and here he is, 
 thank Heaven ! " 
 
 X 2
 
 308 ATHERTOX. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 SIGNING THE SETTLEMENTS. 
 
 Oh ! Mr. Langhton, you are come just in 
 time," continued Katy, whose impetuosity 
 kad borne down all interruption, flying to 
 meet him, and clinging to his arm. 
 
 ^' Quite in time," replied he, smiling, 
 and flinging down a great blue bag heavy 
 with parchments. " These arc the title- 
 deeds, and you are free." 
 
 '' But listen to me, Mr. Langhton," 
 persisted Katy. '' Honor must have half 
 of this money — more than half, three parts. 
 Now listen,'' said she, almost in a whisper,
 
 ATHERTON. 309 
 
 '^ Major Delancy does not want to marry 
 me, indeed he does not; and I do not 
 want to marry him or anybody ; I am too 
 young. Let me live with mamma and 
 grandmamma here in my dear old home, 
 and give her the money, and make every- 
 body happy ; now, do ! " 
 
 '* Stop a moment Katy ; nobody shall 
 many you against your will, my queen," 
 said Mr. Langhton. '• Bo content, Mrs. 
 "Warner, all will go well ; only let me tell 
 my good lord here that he is his own man 
 again; every estate freed; galleries, collec- 
 tions, libraries, all : he has but one 
 creditor, and she will not be a hard one.'' 
 
 '^ But, dear Langhton,'' said Lord De- 
 lancy, ^^you cannot imagine, even if it 
 were possible, that we are capable of 
 taking advantage of this sweet child's 
 proposal; I answer for my son as for 
 myself; aye, and I answer for another; 
 Honor would not let us if we were so
 
 310 ATHERTON, 
 
 f 
 
 l)use.'- His son aiiJ. Honor pressed each 
 u hand. 
 
 '^Have patience for an instant," said 
 our friend Stephen. " Of course, Osborne, 
 you guessed that I was detained in cross- 
 ing fi'oni Dublin. We had head-winds 
 all the way. I promise you I had a race 
 for it. However, I brought down half-a 
 dozen undeniable witnesses; had half-an- 
 hour to spare by the clock and by the sun ; 
 and the thing is settled for ever by their 
 own admission." 
 
 One word in this speech in spite of 
 its peculiar interest had arrested general 
 attention, and ^Trom Dublin!" burst 
 from several voices. 
 
 " Yes, from Dublin," resumed the 
 lawyer. " You have left the name 
 blank in the settlement as I told 
 you ?" said he to his partner. ^^ Yes, 
 I see you have. Well, now, good folk, 
 sit down, and I will satisfy your
 
 ATHEETON. 311 
 
 curiosity. Sit down, everybody. And 
 you, Honor, be pleased to listen. Do you 
 remember a little old prayer-book wbieb 
 had belonged to your grandmother, Lady 
 Eossborough, the famous beauty, and some 
 letters of her writing, which I craved 
 permission to read? Well, that little prayer- 
 book had on the fly-leaf a name and a date 
 written in yeUow faded ink, the maiden 
 name, as you told me, of your grandmo- 
 ther, the second wife of your grandfather, 
 the Earl of Eossborough. jSTow it so 
 happened that I had been searching after 
 this very name for five or six months ; 
 searching, I think, all over England, 
 amongst churchyards and parish registers, 
 and registers of all sorts, except just the 
 Peerage, ^ow, I recognised at a glance 
 the handwriting of that inscription, and 
 the initials of the donor ; also, I recognised 
 the character of the packet of old letters. 
 I said nothing to you then, because there
 
 312 ATHERTON. 
 
 were still a good many points to verify 
 and make clear, not only to my own 
 satisfaction, but to that of certain sages 
 learned in the law ; amongst the rest to 
 the Lord High Chancellor. Early this 
 morning all was settled. I took care to 
 have Sir Vivian's money ready before. 
 And when I tell you, my dear lord, and 
 you, Mrs. Warner, that the name was 
 Elizabeth Brown of Weston, near South- 
 ampton ; that the letters were in her 
 character ; and that the words on the fly- 
 leaf were in the handwriting of Eichard 
 Strange; in short, that our fair friend 
 Honora Clivc is the only surviving child 
 of her only daughter, and the actual heir 
 to the moiety of the assets of the said 
 Eichard Strange ; the missing legatee for 
 whom I have been seeking ; — why I think 
 you will admit that my precaution of 
 leaving the name blank in the settlements 
 was by no means superfluous."
 
 ATHERTON. 313 
 
 The conclusion, not so logical as the 
 usual deductions of our clear-headed friend, 
 was received in almost total silence. The 
 good la\vyer tapped his snuff-box, drew 
 himself up, and muttered, half uncon- 
 sciously, the words of Prosper© : — 
 
 " • So glad of this as they I cannot be ; 
 
 But ray content 
 
 At nothing can be more.' " 
 
 He finished by kissing Honor s forehead, 
 who hid her blushing face upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
 Mrs. Warner, more moved by joy than 
 by the distress in which she had borne so 
 true a part, folded her hands in mute 
 thankfulness. Mrs. Bell cried out trium- 
 phantly : 
 
 '•^ I knew it ! I was sure of it! I was 
 always certain that Honor would turn 
 out to belong to us somehow or other." 
 
 Whilst Katy, laughing, crying, and 
 singing in a breath, skipped round the
 
 314 ATHEETON. 
 
 room iu an ecstacy, and finally flung her- 
 seK into Mr. Langhton's arms. 
 
 Those most concerned, however, father 
 and son, seemed spell-bound. Lady Car- 
 donnel came to their relief. 
 
 '^ Tell us, Mr. Langhton, how came it 
 that the tough, withered heart of this 
 miser, the modem Midas, who turned all 
 he touched into gold, was softened even 
 by the matchless beauty of Lady Eoss- 
 borough ? Where did he meet with her ? 
 I have heard my own Irish godfather 
 boast of her as turning every head in 
 Dublin fifty years ago. But he always 
 claimed her as a countrywoman ; an L.'ish 
 Browne." 
 
 '^JS'o, English,'^ replied Stephen. "It 
 is the one bit of poetry in a miser's life, 
 inasmuch as true passion is always poetry. 
 Looldng over the securities left by 
 Eichai'd Strange, I found, just after the 
 discoveiy of the prayer-book, a note
 
 ATHERTON. 315 
 
 almost written over by accounts, which 
 explained some of the facts of the story, 
 and guided me to the locality. Lady 
 Eossborough, then Elizabeth Brown, 
 lived with her father, a half-pay lieu- 
 tenant, in the pretty hamlet of Weston, 
 on the Southampton T^'ater, catching 
 the breath of the salt sea, as your old 
 sailor loves to do. Eichard Strange, then 
 about five-and-thirty, went there after a 
 long illness for health and cheapness. He 
 had already laid the foundation of his 
 fortune ; and offered settlements to his fair 
 enslaver which might have tempted a 
 richer maiden. She refused his hand, but 
 that his heart remained with her this 
 legacy sufficiently proves. And now, 
 Honor, tell me, did I do well in apply- 
 ing a part of yom' money to pay off Sii- 
 Yivian ? I never in my life saw a man 
 so unwilling to receive a bundle of bank- 
 bills. Was I wrong, I say?" 
 "Oh,Mr. LanghtonI"
 
 316 ATHERTON. 
 
 '^Because, if I were, the estates can 
 still be charged with the sum. It is not 
 a bad investment." 
 
 ^'Oh, Mr. Langhton !" said Honor; 
 " dear, dear friend, you are breaking my 
 heart. Lord Delancy, it was only last 
 night that you offered — that you wished 
 — Even if Major Delancy should still re- 
 sent what passed three years ago, you 
 surely will not disdain to think of me as 
 poor Lionel's sister ; as one to whom this 
 money can bring no pleasure, no comfort 
 in the world, unless you will condescend 
 to use it?" 
 
 ^^My daughter! my dear, dear daugh- 
 ter !'' said Lord Delancy, folding her in 
 his arms ; ^' we cannot take the money 
 without a far more precious gift." 
 
 *' But he has not said he loves me," 
 faintly whispered the heiress. 
 
 ^^Honoral my own Honora! ray first 
 and only love!" exclaimed Arthur. And
 
 ATHERTON. 317 
 
 Lord Delancy, with, a fervent blessing, 
 placed her trembling hand within his 
 son's ; nor even in that moment of ecstacy 
 was Katy forgotten. 
 
 ^^Well," said Mr. Langhton half-an- 
 hour after, when the name of Honora 
 Clive had been inserted in the blanks 
 left in the settlement, and that important 
 document, duly signed and witnessed, had 
 been safely consigned to the keeping of the 
 blue bag, ''Well, it is some comfort to think 
 that so excellent a specimen of engrossing 
 will not be thrown away. I hate to see 
 good sheep-skin wasted. And there was 
 some danger here, I promise you ; for as 
 Honor refused to marry Major Delancy 
 when she was poor, and he hesitated at 
 marrying her because she became rich, 
 and Katy would have nothing to say to 
 him at any rate, a marriage settlement 
 seemed as sheer a superfluity as the money
 
 818 ATHERTON. 
 
 which Sii' Vivian brought down to pay 
 the bell-ringers and treat the parish on 
 taking possession of Atherton Hall. We'll 
 ring the bells next week to another guess 
 tune. And half a dozen years hence we'll 
 have another bell-ringing and another 
 wedding-day. Yes, my queen! you may 
 make sure of that ; for if nobody else will 
 have you, I'll marry you myself. In the 
 meanwhile you shall stay here at Ather- 
 ton, according to your desire, with the 
 dear mamma and the dear grandmamma ; 
 coddling all the old women in the village, 
 nursing all the children, riding Brito- 
 marte, stuffing Flora, and spoiling every- 
 body, especially Marigold and Jacob 
 Stokes." 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 M. S. MYERS, PRnrrER TAVISTOCK STREET , COVEHT GARDEN.
 
 
 I-'' 
 
 liifi