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diff --git a/33500.txt b/33500.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 85488db..0000000 --- a/33500.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,24820 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Ayala's Angel, by Anthony Trollope - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: Ayala's Angel - - -Author: Anthony Trollope - - - -Release Date: August 25, 2010 [eBook #33500] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AYALA'S ANGEL*** - - -E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau and Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D. - - - -AYALA'S ANGEL - -by - -ANTHONY TROLLOPE, - -Author of "Doctor Thorne," "The Prime Minister," "Orley Farm," -&c., &c. - -In Three Volumes. - -VOL. I. - - - - - - - -London: -Chapman and Hall (Limited), -11, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden. -1881. -[All Rights Reserved.] - -Westminster: -J. B. Nichols and Sons, Printers. -25, Parliament Street. - - - - -CONTENTS OF VOL. I. - - I. THE TWO SISTERS. - II. LUCY WITH HER AUNT DOSETT. - III. LUCY'S TROUBLES. - IV. ISADORE HAMEL. - V. AT GLENBOGIE. - VI. AT ROME. - VII. TOM TRINGLE IN EARNEST. - VIII. THE LOUT. - IX. THE EXCHANGE. - X. AYALA AND HER AUNT MARGARET. - XI. TOM TRINGLE COMES TO THE CRESCENT. - XII. "WOULD YOU?" - XIII. HOW THE TRINGLES FELL INTO TROUBLE. - XIV. FRANK HOUSTON. - XV. AYALA WITH HER FRIENDS. - XVI. JONATHAN STUBBS. - XVII. LUCY IS VERY FIRM. - XVIII. DOWN IN SCOTLAND. - XIX. ISADORE HAMEL IS ASKED TO LUNCH. - XX. STUBBS UPON MATRIMONY. - XXI. AYALA'S INDIGNATION. - XXII. AYALA'S GRATITUDE. - - - - -AYALA'S ANGEL. - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE TWO SISTERS. - - -When Egbert Dormer died he left his two daughters utterly penniless -upon the world, and it must be said of Egbert Dormer that nothing -else could have been expected of him. The two girls were both -pretty, but Lucy, who was twenty-one, was supposed to be simple and -comparatively unattractive, whereas Ayala was credited,--as her -somewhat romantic name might show,--with poetic charm and a taste for -romance. Ayala when her father died was nineteen. - -We must begin yet a little earlier and say that there had been,--and -had died many years before the death of Egbert Dormer,--a clerk in -the Admiralty, by name Reginald Dosett, who, and whose wife, had been -conspicuous for personal beauty. Their charms were gone, but the -records of them had been left in various grandchildren. There had -been a son born to Mr. Dosett, who was also a Reginald and a clerk -in the Admiralty, and who also, in his turn, had been a handsome -man. With him, in his decadence, the reader will become acquainted. -There were also two daughters, whose reputation for perfect feminine -beauty had never been contested. The elder had married a city man of -wealth,--of wealth when he married her, but who had become enormously -wealthy by the time of our story. He had when he married been simply -Mister, but was now Sir Thomas Tringle, Baronet, and was senior -partner in the great firm of Travers and Treason. Of Traverses and -Treasons there were none left in these days, and Mr. Tringle was -supposed to manipulate all the millions with which the great firm in -Lombard Street was concerned. He had married old Mr. Dosett's eldest -daughter, Emmeline, who was now Lady Tringle, with a house at the top -of Queen's Gate, rented at L1,500 a year, with a palatial moor in -Scotland, with a seat in Sussex, and as many carriages and horses as -would suit an archduchess. Lady Tringle had everything in the world; -a son, two daughters, and an open-handed stout husband, who was said -to have told her that money was a matter of no consideration. - -The second Miss Dosett, Adelaide Dosett, who had been considerably -younger than her sister, had insisted upon giving herself to Egbert -Dormer, the artist, whose death we commemorated in our first line. -But she had died before her husband. They who remembered the two -Miss Dosetts as girls were wont to declare that, though Lady Tringle -might, perhaps, have had the advantage in perfection of feature and -in unequalled symmetry, Adelaide had been the more attractive from -expression and brilliancy. To her Lord Sizes had offered his hand -and coronet, promising to abandon for her sake all the haunts of his -matured life. To her Mr. Tringle had knelt before he had taken the -elder sister. For her Mr. Program, the popular preacher of the day, -for a time so totally lost himself that he was nearly minded to go -over to Rome. She was said to have had offers from a widowed Lord -Chancellor and from a Russian prince. Her triumphs would have quite -obliterated that of her sister had she not insisted on marrying -Egbert Dormer. - -Then there had been, and still was, Reginald Dosett, the son of old -Dosett, and the eldest of the family. He too had married, and was now -living with his wife; but to them had no children been born, luckily, -as he was a poor man. Alas, to a beautiful son it is not often that -beauty can be a fortune as to a daughter. Young Reginald Dosett,--he -is anything now but young,--had done but little for himself with his -beauty, having simply married the estimable daughter of a brother -clerk. Now, at the age of fifty, he had his L900 a year from his -office, and might have lived in fair comfort had he not allowed a -small millstone of debt to hang round his neck from his earlier -years. But still he lived creditably in a small but very genteel -house at Notting Hill, and would have undergone any want rather than -have declared himself to be a poor man to his rich relations the -Tringles. - -Such were now the remaining two children of old Mr. Dosett,--Lady -Tringle, namely, and Reginald Dosett, the clerk in the Admiralty. -Adelaide, the beauty in chief of the family, was gone; and now -also her husband, the improvident artist, had followed his wife. -Dormer had been by no means a failing artist. He had achieved -great honour,--had at an early age been accepted into the Royal -Academy,--had sold pictures to illustrious princes and more -illustrious dealers, had been engraved and had lived to see his own -works resold at five times their original prices. Egbert Dormer might -also have been a rich man. But he had a taste for other beautiful -things besides a wife. The sweetest little phaeton that was to -cost nothing, the most perfect bijou of a little house at South -Kensington,--he had boasted that it might have been packed without -trouble in his brother-in-law Tringle's dining-room,--the simplest -little gem for his wife, just a blue set of china for his dinner -table, just a painted cornice for his studio, just satin hangings for -his drawing-room,--and a few simple ornaments for his little girls; -these with a few rings for himself, and velvet suits of clothing -in which to do his painting; these, with a few little dinner -parties to show off his blue china, were the first and last of his -extravagances. But when he went, and when his pretty things were -sold, there was not enough to cover his debts. There was, however, a -sweet savour about his name. When he died it was said of him that his -wife's death had killed him. He had dropped his pallette, refused -to finish the ordered portrait of a princess, and had simply turned -himself round and died. - -Then there were the two daughters, Lucy and Ayala. It should be -explained that though a proper family intercourse had always been -maintained between the three families, the Tringles, the Dormers, and -the Dosetts, there had never been cordiality between the first and -the two latter. The wealth of the Tringles had seemed to convey with -it a fetid odour. Egbert Dormer, with every luxury around him which -money could purchase, had affected to despise the heavy magnificence -of the Tringles. It may be that he affected a fashion higher than -that which the Tringles really attained. Reginald Dosett, who was -neither brilliant nor fashionable, was in truth independent, and, -perhaps, a little thin-skinned. He would submit to no touch of -arrogance from Sir Thomas; and Sir Thomas seemed to carry arrogance -in his brow and in his paunch. It was there rather, perhaps, than in -his heart; but there are men to whom a knack of fumbling their money -in their pockets and of looking out from under penthouse brows over -an expanse of waistcoat, gives an air of overweening pride which -their true idiosyncracies may not justify. To Dosett had, perhaps, -been spoken a word or two which on some occasion he had inwardly -resented, and from thenceforward he had ever been ready to league -with Dormer against the "bullionaire," as they agreed to call Sir -Thomas. Lady Tringle had even said a word to her sister, Mrs. Dormer, -as to expenses, and that had never been forgiven by the artist. So -things were when Mrs. Dormer died first; and so they remained when -her husband followed her. - -Then there arose a sudden necessity for action, which, for a while, -brought Reginald Dosett into connexion with Sir Thomas and Lady -Tringle. Something must be done for the poor girls. That the -something should come out of the pocket of Sir Thomas would have -seemed to be natural. Money with him was no object,--not at all. -Another girl or two would be nothing to him,--as regarded simple -expenditure. But the care of a human being is an important matter, -and so Sir Thomas knew. Dosett had not a child at all, and would be -the better for such a windfall. Dosett he supposed to be,--in his, -Dosett's way,--fairly well off. So he made this proposition. He would -take one girl and let Dosett take the other. To this Lady Tringle -added her proviso, that she should have the choice. To her nerves -affairs of taste were of such paramount importance! To this Dosett -yielded. The matter was decided in Lady Tringle's back drawing-room. -Mrs. Dosett was not even consulted in that matter of choice, having -already acknowledged the duty of mothering a motherless child. Dosett -had thought that the bullionaire should have said a word as to some -future provision for the penniless girl, for whom he would be able -to do so little. But Sir Thomas had said no such word, and Dosett, -himself, lacked both the courage and the coarseness to allude to the -matter. Then Lady Tringle declared that she must have Ayala, and so -the matter was settled. Ayala the romantic; Ayala the poetic! It was -a matter of course that Ayala should be chosen. Ayala had already -been made intimate with the magnificent saloons of the Tringles, -and had been felt by Lady Tringle to be an attraction. Her long -dark black locks, which had never hitherto been tucked up, which -were never curled, which were never so long as to be awkward, were -already known as being the loveliest locks in London. She sang as -though Nature had intended her to be a singing-bird,--requiring no -education, no labour. She had been once for three months in Paris, -and French had come naturally to her. Her father had taught her -something of his art, and flatterers had already begun to say that -she was born to be the one great female artist of the world. Her -hands, her feet, her figure were perfect. Though she was as yet but -nineteen, London had already begun to talk about Ayala Dormer. Of -course Lady Tringle chose Ayala, not remembering at the moment that -her own daughters might probably be superseded by their cousin. - -And, therefore, as Lady Tringle said herself to Lucy with her -sweetest smile--Mrs. Dosett had chosen Lucy. The two girls were old -enough to know something of the meaning of such a choice. Ayala, -the younger, was to be adopted into immense wealth, and Lucy was to -be given up to comparative poverty. She knew nothing of her uncle -Dosett's circumstances, but the genteel house at Notting Hill,--No. -3, Kingsbury Crescent,--was known to her, and was but a poor affair -as compared even with the bijou in which she had hitherto lived. Her -aunt Dosett never rose to any vehicle beyond a four-wheeler, and -was careful even in thinking of that accommodation. Ayala would be -whirled about the park by a wire-wig and a pair of brown horses which -they had heard it said were not to be matched in London. Ayala would -be carried with her aunt and her cousin to the show-room of Madame -Tonsonville, the great French milliner of Bond Street, whereas she, -Lucy, might too probably be called on to make her own gowns. All the -fashion of Queen's Gate, something, perhaps, of the fashion of Eaton -Square, would be open to Ayala. Lucy understood enough to know that -Ayala's own charms might probably cause still more August gates to -be opened to her, whereas Aunt Dosett entered no gates. It was quite -natural that Ayala should be chosen. Lucy acknowledged as much to -herself. But they were sisters, and had been so near! By what a chasm -would they be dissevered, now so far asunder! - -Lucy herself was a lovely girl, and knew her own loveliness. She -was fairer than Ayala, somewhat taller, and much more quiet in her -demeanour. She was also clever, but her cleverness did not show -itself so quickly. She was a musician, whereas her sister could only -sing. She could really draw, whereas her sister would rush away into -effects in which the drawing was not always very excellent. Lucy was -doing the best she could for herself, knowing something of French -and German, though as yet not very fluent with her tongue. The two -girls were, in truth, both greatly gifted; but Ayala had the gift of -showing her talent without thought of showing it. Lucy saw it all, -and knew that she was outshone; but how great had been the price of -the outshining! - -The artist's house had been badly ordered, and the two girls were of -better disposition and better conduct than might have been expected -from such fitful training. Ayala had been the father's pet, and Lucy -the mother's. Parents do ill in making pets, and here they had done -ill. Ayala had been taught to think herself the favourite, because -the artist, himself, had been more prominent before the world than -his wife. But the evil had not been lasting enough to have made bad -feeling between the sisters. Lucy knew that her sister had been -preferred to her, but she had been self-denying enough to be aware -that some such preference was due to Ayala. She, too, admired Ayala, -and loved her with her whole heart. And Ayala was always good to -her,--had tried to divide everything,--had assumed no preference as a -right. The two were true sisters. But when it was decided that Lucy -was to go to Kingsbury Crescent the difference was very great. The -two girls, on their father's death, had been taken to the great red -brick house in Queen's Gate, and from thence, three or four days -after the funeral, Lucy was to be transferred to her Aunt Dosett. -Hitherto there had been little between them but weeping for their -father. Now had come the hour of parting. - -The tidings had been communicated to Lucy, and to Lucy alone, by Aunt -Tringle,--"As you are the eldest, dear, we think that you will be -best able to be a comfort to your aunt," said Lady Tringle. - -"I will do the best I can, Aunt Emmeline," said Lucy, declaring to -herself that, in giving such a reason, her aunt was lying basely. - -"I am sure you will. Poor dear Ayala is younger than her cousins, and -will be more subject to them." So in truth was Lucy younger than her -cousins, but of that she said nothing. "I am sure you will agree with -me that it is best that we should have the youngest." - -"Perhaps it is, Aunt Emmeline." - -"Sir Thomas would not have had it any other way," said Lady Tringle, -with a little severity, feeling that Lucy's accord had hardly been -as generous as it should be. But she recovered herself quickly, -remembering how much it was that Ayala was to get, how much that Lucy -was to lose. "But, my dear, we shall see you very often, you know. -It is not so far across the park; and when we do have a few parties -again--" - -"Oh, aunt, I am not thinking of that." - -"Of course not. We can none of us think of it just now. But when -the time does come of course we shall always have you, just as if -you were one of us." Then her aunt gave her a roll of bank-notes, a -little present of twenty-five pounds, to begin the world with, and -told her that the carriage should take her to Kingsbury Crescent -on the following morning. On the whole Lucy behaved well and left -a pleasant impression on her aunt's mind. The difference between -Queen's Gate and Kingsbury Crescent,--between Queen's Gate and -Kingsbury Crescent for life,--was indeed great! - -"I wish it were you, with all my heart," said Ayala, clinging to her -sister. - -"It could not have been me." - -"Why not!" - -"Because you are so pretty and you are so clever." - -"No!" - -"Yes! If we were to be separated of course it would be so. Do not -suppose, dear, that I am disappointed." - -"I am." - -"If I can only like Aunt Margaret,"--Aunt Margaret was Mrs. Dosett, -with whom neither of the girls had hitherto become intimate, and who -was known to be quiet, domestic, and economical, but who had also -been spoken of as having a will of her own,--"I shall do better with -her than you would, Ayala." - -"I don't see why." - -"Because I can remain quiet longer than you. It will be very quiet. -I wonder how we shall see each other! I cannot walk across the park -alone." - -"Uncle Reg will bring you." - -"Not often, I fear. Uncle Reg has enough to do with his office." - -"You can come in a cab." - -"Cabs cost money, Ayey dear." - -"But Uncle Thomas--" - -"We had better understand one or two things, Ayala. Uncle Thomas will -pay everything for you, and as he is very rich things will come as -they are wanted. There will be cabs, and if not cabs, carriages. -Uncle Reg must pay for me, and he is very very kind to do so. But -as he is not rich, there will be no carriages, and not a great many -cabs. It is best to understand it all." - -"But they will send for you." - -"That's as they please. I don't think they will very often. I would -not for the world put you against Uncle Thomas, but I have a feeling -that I shall never get on with him. But you will never separate -yourself from me, Ayala!" - -"Separate myself!" - -"You will not--not be my sister because you will be one of these rich -ones?" - -"Oh, I wish,--I wish that I were to be the poor one. I'm sure I -should like it best. I never cared about being rich. Oh, Lucy, can't -we make them change?" - -"No, Ayey, my own, we can't make them change. And if we could, we -wouldn't. It is altogether best that you should be a rich Tringle and -that I should be a poor Dosett." - -"I will always be a Dormer," said Ayala, proudly. - -"And I will always be so too, my pet. But you should be a bright -Dormer among the Tringles, and I will be a dull Dormer among the -Dosetts. I shall begrudge nothing, if only we can see each other." - -So the two girls were parted, the elder being taken away to Kingsbury -Crescent and the latter remaining with her rich relations at Queen's -Gate. Ayala had not probably realized the great difference of their -future positions. To her the attractions of wealth and the privations -of comparative poverty had not made themselves as yet palpably plain. -They do not become so manifest to those to whom the wealth falls,--at -any rate, not in early life,--as to the opposite party. If the other -lot had fallen to Ayala she might have felt it more keenly. - -Lucy felt it keenly enough. Without any longing after the -magnificence of the Tringle mansion she knew how great was the fall -from her father's well-assorted luxuries and prettinesses down to the -plain walls, tables, and chairs of her Uncle Dosett's house. Her aunt -did not subscribe to Mudie's. The old piano had not been tuned for -the last ten years. The parlour-maid was a cross old woman. Her aunt -always sat in the dining-room through the greater part of the day, -and of all rooms the dining-room in Kingsbury Crescent was the -dingiest. Lucy understood very well to what she was going. Her father -and mother were gone. Her sister was divided from her. Her life -offered for the future nothing to her. But with it all she carried a -good courage. There was present to her an idea of great misfortune; -but present to her at the same time an idea also that she would do -her duty. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -LUCY WITH HER AUNT DOSETT. - - -For some days Lucy found herself to be absolutely crushed,--in the -first place, by a strong resolution to do some disagreeable duty, -and then by a feeling that there was no duty the doing of which was -within her reach. It seemed to her that her whole life was a blank. -Her father's house had been a small affair and considered to be poor -when compared with the Tringle mansion, but she now became aware that -everything there had in truth abounded. In one little room there -had been two or three hundred beautifully bound books. That Mudie's -unnumbered volumes should come into the house as they were wanted -had almost been as much a provision of nature as water, gas, and hot -rolls for breakfast. A piano of the best kind, and always in order, -had been a first necessary of life, and, like other necessaries, of -course, forthcoming. There had been the little room in which the -girls painted, joining their father's studio and sharing its light, -surrounded by every pretty female appliance. Then there had always -been visitors. The artists from Kensington had been wont to gather -there, and the artists' daughters, and perhaps the artists' sons. -Every day had had its round of delights,--its round of occupations, -as the girls would call them. There had been some reading, some -painting, some music,--perhaps a little needlework and a great deal -of talking. - -How little do we know how other people live in the houses close to -us! We see the houses looking like our own, and we see the people -come out of them looking like ourselves. But a Chinaman is not more -different from the English John Bull than is No. 10 from No. 11. -Here there are books, paintings, music, wine, a little dilettanti -getting-up of subjects of the day, a little dilettanti thinking on -great affairs, perhaps a little dilettanti religion; few domestic -laws, and those easily broken; few domestic duties, and those easily -evaded; breakfast when you will, with dinner almost as little -binding, with much company and acknowledged aptitude for idle luxury. -That is life at No. 10. At No. 11 everything is cased in iron. There -shall be equal plenty, but at No. 11 even plenty is a bondage. Duty -rules everything, and it has come to be acknowledged that duty is to -be hard. So many hours of needlework, so many hours of books, so many -hours of prayer! That all the household shall shiver before daylight, -is a law, the breach of which by any member either augurs sickness or -requires condign punishment. To be comfortable is a sin; to laugh is -almost equal to bad language. Such and so various is life at No. 10 -and at No. 11. - -From one extremity, as far removed, to another poor Lucy had been -conveyed; though all the laws were not exactly carried out in -Kingsbury Crescent as they have been described at No. 11. The -enforced prayers were not there, nor the early hours. It was simply -necessary that Lucy should be down to breakfast at nine, and had -she not appeared nothing violent would have been said. But it was -required of her that she should endure a life which was altogether -without adornment. Uncle Dosett himself, as a clerk in the Admiralty, -had a certain position in the world which was sufficiently maintained -by decent apparel, a well-kept, slight, grey whisker, and an umbrella -which seemed never to have been violated by use. Dosett was popular -at his office, and was regarded by his brother clerks as a friend. -But no one was acquainted with his house and home. They did not -dine with him, nor he with them. There are such men in all public -offices,--not the less respected because of the quiescence of their -lives. It was known of him that he had burdens, though it was not -known what his burdens were. His friends, therefore, were intimate -with him as far as the entrance into Somerset House,--where his -duties lay,--and not beyond it. Lucy was destined to know the other -side of his affairs, the domestic side, which was as quiet as the -official side. The link between them, which consisted of a journey by -the Underground Railway to the Temple Station, and a walk home along -the Embankment and across the parks and Kensington Gardens, was the -pleasantest part of Dosett's life. - -Mr. Dosett's salary has been said to be L900 per annum. What a fund -of comfort there is in the word! When the youth of nineteen enters -an office how far beyond want would he think himself should he ever -reach the pecuniary paradise of L900 a-year! How he would see all his -friends, and in return be seen of them! But when the income has been -achieved its capabilities are found to be by no means endless. And -Dosett in the earlier spheres of his married life had unfortunately -anticipated something of such comforts. For a year or two he had -spent a little money imprudently. Something which he had expected -had not come to him; and, as a result, he had been forced to -borrow, and to insure his life for the amount borrowed. Then, -too, when that misfortune as to the money came,--came from the -non-realization of certain claims which his wife had been supposed -to possess,--provision had also to be made for her. In this way an -assurance office eat up a large fraction of his income, and left him -with means which in truth were very straitened. Dosett at once gave -up all glories of social life, settled himself in Kingsbury Crescent, -and resolved to satisfy himself with his walk across the park and -his frugal dinner afterwards. He never complained to any one, nor -did his wife. He was a man small enough to be contented with a thin -existence, but far too great to ask any one to help him to widen it. -Sir Thomas Tringle never heard of that L175 paid annually to the -assurance office, nor had Lady Tringle, Dosett's sister, even heard -of it. When it was suggested to him that he should take one of the -Dormer girls, he consented to take her and said nothing of the -assurance office. - -Mrs. Dosett had had her great blow in life, and had suffered more -perhaps than her husband. This money had been expected. There had -been no doubt of the money,--at any rate on her part. It did not -depend on an old gentleman with or without good intentions, but -simply on his death. There was to be ever so much of it, four or five -hundred a-year, which would last for ever. When the old gentleman -died, which took place some ten years after Dosett's marriage, it -was found that the money, tied tight as it had been by half-a-dozen -lawyers, had in some fashion vanished. Whither it had gone is little -to our purpose, but it had gone. Then there came a great crash upon -the Dosetts, which she for a while had been hardly able to endure. - -But when she had collected herself together after the crash, and -had made up her mind, as had Dosett also, to the nature of the life -which they must in future lead, she became more stringent in it even -than he. He could bear and say nothing; but she, in bearing, found -herself compelled to say much. It had been her fault,--the fault of -people on her side,--and she would fain have fed her husband with -the full flowery potato while she ate only the rind. She told him, -unnecessarily, over and over again, that she had ruined him by her -marriage. No such idea was ever in his head. The thing had come, and -so it must be. There was food to eat, potatoes enough for both, and a -genteel house in which to live. He could still be happy if she would -not groan. A certain amount of groaning she did postpone while in his -presence. The sewing of seams, and the darning of household linen, -which in his eyes amounted to groaning, was done in his absence. -After their genteel dinner he would sleep a little, and she would -knit. He would have his glass of wine, but would make his bottle of -port last almost for a week. This was the house to which Lucy Dormer -was brought when Mr. Dosett had consented to share with Sir Thomas -the burden left by the death of the improvident artist. - -When a month passed by Lucy began to think that time itself would -almost drive her mad. Her father had died early in September. The -Tringles had then, of course, been out of town, but Sir Thomas -and his wife had found themselves compelled to come up on such an -occasion. Something they knew must be done about the girls, and they -had not chosen that that something should be done in their absence. -Mr. Dosett was also enjoying his official leave of absence for -the year, but was enjoying it within the economical precincts of -Kingsbury Crescent. There was but seldom now an excursion for him or -his wife to the joys of the country. Once, some years ago, they had -paid a visit to the palatial luxuries of Glenbogie, but the delights -of the place had not paid for the expense of the long journey. They, -therefore, had been at hand to undertake their duties. Dosett and -Tringle, with a score of artists, had followed poor Dormer to his -grave in Kensal Green, and then Dosett and Tringle had parted again, -probably not to see each other for another term of years. - -"My dear, what do you like to do with your time?" Mrs. Dosett said to -her niece, after the first week. At this time Lucy's wardrobe was not -yet of a nature to need much work over its ravages. The Dormer girls -had hardly known where their frocks had come from when they wanted -frocks,--hardly with more precision than the Tringle girls. Frocks -had come--dark, gloomy frocks, lately, alas! And these, too, had now -come a second time. Let creditors be ever so unsatisfied, new raiment -will always be found for mourning families. Everything about Lucy was -nearly new. The need of repairing would come upon her by degrees, but -it had not come as yet. Therefore there had seemed, to the anxious -aunt, to be a necessity for some such question as the above. - -"I'll do anything you like, aunt," said Lucy. - -"It is not for me, my dear. I get through a deal of work, and am -obliged to do so." She was, at this time, sitting with a sheet in her -lap, which she was turning. Lucy had, indeed, once offered to assist, -but her assistance had been rejected. This had been two days since, -and she had not renewed the proposal as she should have done. This -had been mainly from bashfulness. Though the work would certainly be -distasteful to her, she would do it. But she had not liked to seem to -interfere, not having as yet fallen into ways of intimacy with her -aunt. "I don't want to burden you with my task-work," continued Mrs. -Dosett, "but I am afraid you seem to be listless." - -"I was reading till just before you spoke," said Lucy, again turning -her eyes to the little volume of poetry, which was one of the few -treasures which she had brought away with her from her old home. - -"Reading is very well, but I do not like it as an excuse, Lucy." -Lucy's anger boiled within her when she was told of an excuse, and -she declared to herself that she could never like her aunt. "I am -quite sure that for young girls, as well as for old women, there -must be a great deal of waste time unless there be needle and thread -always about. And I know, too, unless ladies are well off, they -cannot afford to waste time any more than gentlemen." - -In the whole course of her life nothing so much like scolding as -this had ever been addressed to her. So at least thought Lucy at -that moment. Mrs. Dosett had intended the remarks all in good part, -thinking them to be simply fitting from an aunt to a niece. It was -her duty to give advice, and for the giving of such advice some day -must be taken as the beginning. She had purposely allowed a week to -run by, and now she had spoken her word,--as she thought in good -season. - -To Lucy it was a new and most bitter experience. Though she was -reading the "Idylls of the King," or pretending to read them, she -was, in truth, thinking of all that had gone from her. Her mind had, -at that moment, been intent upon her mother, who, in all respects, -had been so different from this careful, sheet-darning housewife of a -woman. And in thinking of her mother there had no doubt been regrets -for many things of which she would not have ventured to speak as -sharing her thoughts with the memory of her mother, but which were -nevertheless there to add darkness to the retrospective. Everything -behind had been so bright, and everything behind had gone away from -her! Everything before was so gloomy, and everything before must last -for so long! After her aunt's lecture about wasted time Lucy sat -silent for a few minutes, and then burst into uncontrolled tears. - -"I did not mean to vex you," said her aunt. - -"I was thinking of my--darling, darling mamma," sobbed Lucy. - -"Of course, Lucy, you will think of her. How should you not? And of -your father. Those are sorrows which must be borne. But sorrows such -as those are much lighter to the busy than to the idle. I sometimes -think that the labourers grieve less for those they love than we do -just because they have not time to grieve." - -"I wish I were a labourer then," said Lucy, through her tears. - -"You may be if you will. The sooner you begin to be a labourer the -better for yourself and for those about you." - -That Aunt Dosett's voice was harsh was not her fault,--nor that in -the obduracy of her daily life she had lost much of her original -softness. She had simply meant to be useful, and to do her duty; but -in telling Lucy that it would be better that the labouring should be -commenced at once for the sake of "those about you,"--who could only -be Aunt Dosett herself,--she had seemed to the girl to be harsh, -selfish, and almost unnatural. The volume of poetry fell from her -hand, and she jumped up from the chair quickly. "Give it me at once," -she said, taking hold of the sheet,--which was not itself a pleasant -object; Lucy had never seen such a thing at the bijou. "Give it me at -once," she said, and clawed the long folds of linen nearly out of her -aunt's lap. - -"I did not mean anything of the kind," said Aunt Dosett. "You should -not take me up in that way. I am speaking only for your good, because -I know that you should not dawdle away your existence. Leave the -sheet." - -Lucy did leave the sheet, and then, sobbing violently, ran out of the -room up to her own chamber. Mrs. Dosett determined that she would -not follow her. She partly forgave the girl because of her sorrows, -partly reminded herself that she was not soft and facile as had been -her sister-in-law, Lucy's mother; and then, as she continued her -work, she assured herself that it would be best to let her niece -have her cry out upstairs. Lucy's violence had astonished her for a -moment, but she had taught herself to think it best to allow such -little ebullitions to pass off by themselves. - -Lucy, when she was alone, flung herself upon her bed in absolute -agony. She thought that she had misbehaved, and yet how cruel,--how -harsh had been her aunt's words! If she, the quiet one, had -misbehaved, what would Ayala have done? And how was she to find -strength with which to look forward to the future? She struggled hard -with herself for a resolution. Should she determine that she would -henceforward darn sheets morning, noon, and night till she worked -her fingers to the bone? Perhaps there had been something of truth -in that assertion of her aunt's that the labourers have no time to -grieve. As everything else was shut out from her, it might be well -for her to darn sheets. Should she rush down penitent and beg her -aunt to allow her to commence at once? - -She would have done it as far as the sheets were concerned, but she -could not do it as regarded her aunt. She could put herself into -unison with the crumpled soiled linen, but not with the hard woman. - -Oh, how terrible was the change! Her father and her mother who had -been so gentle to her! All the sweet prettinesses of her life! All -her occupations, all her friends, all her delights! Even Ayala -was gone from her! How was she to bear it? She begrudged Ayala -nothing,--no, nothing. But yet it was hard! Ayala was to have -everything. Aunt Emmeline,--though they had not hitherto been very -fond of Aunt Emmeline,--was sweetness itself as compared with this -woman. "The sooner you begin to labour the better for yourself and -those about you." Would it not have been fitter that she should have -been sent at once to some actual poor-house in which there would have -been no mistake as to her position? - -That it should all have been decided for her, for her and Ayala, not -by any will of their own, not by any concert between themselves, but -simply by the fantasy of another! Why should she thus be made a slave -to the fantasy of any one! Let Ayala have her uncle's wealth and her -aunt's palaces at her command, and she would walk out simply a pauper -into the world,--into some workhouse, so that at least she need not -be obedient to the harsh voice and the odious common sense of her -Aunt Dosett! But how should she take herself to some workhouse? In -what way could she prove her right to be admitted even then? It -seemed to her that the same decree which had admitted Ayala into the -golden halls of the fairies had doomed her not only to poverty, but -to slavery. There was no escape for her from her aunt and her aunt's -sermons. "Oh, Ayala, my darling,--my own one; oh, Ayala, if you did -but know!" she said to herself. What would Ayala think, how would -Ayala bear it, could she but guess by what a gulf was her heaven -divided from her sister's hell! "I will never tell her," she said to -herself. "I will die, and she shall never know." - -As she lay there sobbing all the gilded things of the world were -beautiful in her eyes. Alas, yes, it was true. The magnificence of -the mansion at Queen's Gate, the glories of Glenbogie, the closely -studied comforts of Merle Park, as the place in Sussex was called, -all the carriages and horses, Madame Tonsonville and all the -draperies, the seats at the Albert Hall into which she had been -accustomed to go with as much ease as into her bed-room, the box at -the opera, the pretty furniture, the frequent gems, even the raiment -which would make her pleasing to the eyes of men whom she would like -to please--all these things grew in her eyes and became beautiful. -No. 3, Kingsbury Crescent, was surely, of all places on the earth's -surface, the most ugly. And yet,--yet she had endeavoured to do her -duty. "If it had been the workhouse I could have borne it," she said -to herself; "but not to be the slave of my Aunt Dosett!" Again she -appealed to her sister, "Oh, Ayala, if you did but know it!" Then she -remembered herself, declaring that it might have been worse to Ayala -than even to her. "If one had to bear it, it was better for me," she -said, as she struggled to prepare herself for her uncle's dinner. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -LUCY'S TROUBLES. - - -The evening after the affair with the sheet went off quietly, as did -many days and many evenings. Mrs. Dosett was wise enough to forget -the little violence and to forget also the feeling which had been -displayed. When Lucy first asked for some household needlework, which -she did with a faltering voice and shame-faced remembrance of her -fault, her aunt took it all in good part and gave her a task somewhat -lighter as a beginning than the handling of a sheet. Lucy sat at it -and suffered. She went on sitting and suffering. She told herself -that she was a martyr at every stitch she made. As she occupied the -seat opposite to her aunt's accustomed chair she would hardly speak -at all, but would keep her mind always intent on Ayala and the joys -of Ayala's life. That they who had been born together, sisters, with -equal fortunes, who had so closely lived together, should be sundered -so utterly one from the other; that the one should be so exalted and -the other so debased! And why? What justice had there been? Could it -be from heaven or even from earth that the law had gone forth for -such a division of the things of the world between them? - -"You have got very little to say to a person?" said Aunt Dosett, one -morning. This, too, was a reproach. This, too, was scolding. And yet -Aunt Dosett had intended to be as pleasant as she knew how. - -"I have very little to say," replied Lucy, with repressed anger. - -"But why?" - -"Because I am stupid," said Lucy. "Stupid people can't talk. You -should have had Ayala." - -"I hope you do not envy Ayala her fortune, Lucy?" A woman with any -tact would not have asked such a question at such a time. She should -have felt that a touch of such irony might be natural, and that -unless it were expressed loudly, or shown actively, it might be left -to be suppressed by affection and time. But she, as she had grown -old, had taught herself to bear disappointment, and thought it wise -to teach Lucy to do the same. - -"Envy!" said Lucy, not passionately, but after a little pause for -thought. "I sometimes think it is very hard to know what envy is." - -"Envy, hatred, and malice," said Mrs. Dosett, hardly knowing what she -meant by the use of the well-worn words. - -"I do know what hatred and malice are," said Lucy. "Do you think I -hate Ayala?" - -"I am sure you do not." - -"Or that I bear her malice?" - -"Certainly not." - -"If I had the power to take anything from her, would I do it? I love -Ayala with my whole heart. Whatever be my misery I would rather bear -it than let Ayala have even a share of it. Whatever good things she -may have I would not rob her even of a part of them. If there be joy -and sorrow to be divided between us I would wish to have the sorrow -so that she might have the joy. That is not hatred and malice." Mrs. -Dosett looked at her over her spectacles. This was the girl who had -declared that she could not speak because she was too stupid! "But, -when you ask me whether I envy her, I hardly know," continued Lucy. -"I think one does covet one's neighbour's house, in spite of the -tenth commandment, even though one does not want to steal it." - -Mrs. Dosett repented herself that she had given rise to any -conversation at all. Silence, absolute silence, the old silence which -she had known for a dozen years before Lucy had come to her, would -have been better than this. She was very angry, more angry than she -had ever yet been with Lucy; and yet she was afraid to show her -anger. Was this the girl's gratitude for all that her uncle was doing -for her,--for shelter, food, comfort, for all that she had in the -world? Mrs. Dosett knew, though Lucy did not, of the little increased -pinchings which had been made necessary by the advent of another -inmate in the house; so many pounds of the meat in the week, and so -much bread, and so much tea and sugar! It had all been calculated. -In genteel houses such calculation must often be made. And when by -degrees,--degrees very quick,--the garments should become worn which -Lucy had brought with her, there must be something taken from the -tight-fitting income for that need. Arrangements had already been -made of which Lucy knew nothing, and already the two glasses of port -wine a day had been knocked off from poor Mr. Dosett's comforts. His -wife had sobbed in despair when he had said that it should be so. He -had declared gin and water to be as supporting as port wine, and the -thing had been done. Lucy inwardly had been disgusted by the gin and -water, knowing nothing of its history. Her father, who had not always -been punctual in paying his wine-merchant's bills, would not have -touched gin and water, would not have allowed it to contaminate his -table! Everything in Mr. Dosett's house was paid for weekly. - -And now Lucy, who had been made welcome to all that the genteel house -could afford, who had been taken in as a child, had spoken of her -lot as one which was all sorrowful. Bad as it is,--this living in -Kingsbury Crescent,--I would rather bear it myself than subject Ayala -to such misery! It was thus that she had, in fact, spoken of her new -home when she had found it necessary to defend her feelings towards -her sister. It was impossible that her aunt should be altogether -silent under such treatment. "We have done the best for you that is -in our power, Lucy," she said, with a whole load of reproach in her -tone. - -"Have I complained, aunt?" - -"I thought you did." - -"Oh, no! You asked me whether I envied Ayala. What was I to say? -Perhaps I should have said nothing, but the idea of envying Ayala was -painful to me. Of course she--" - -"Well?" - -"I had better say nothing more, aunt. If I were to pretend to be -cheerful I should be false. It is as yet only a few weeks since papa -died." Then the work went on in silence between them for the next -hour. - -And the work went on in solemn silence between them through the -winter. It came to pass that the sole excitement of Lucy's life -came from Ayala's letters,--the sole excitement except a meeting -which took place between the sisters one day. When Lucy was taken to -Kingsbury Crescent Ayala was at once carried down to Glenbogie, and -from thence there came letters twice a week for six weeks. Ayala's -letters, too, were full of sorrow. She, too, had lost her mother, -her father, and her sister. Moreover, in her foolish petulance she -said things of her Aunt Emmeline, and of the girls, and of Sir -Thomas, which ought not to have been written of those who were -kind to her. Her cousin Tom, too, she ridiculed,--Tom Tringle, the -son-and-heir,--saying that he was a lout who endeavoured to make eyes -at her. Oh, how distasteful, how vulgar they were after all that -she had known. Perhaps the eldest girl, Augusta, was the worst. She -did not think that she could put up with the assumed authority of -Augusta. Gertrude was better, but a simpleton. Ayala declared herself -to be sad at heart. But then the sweet scenery of Glenbogie, and the -colour of the moors, and the glorious heights of Ben Alchan, made -some amends. Even in her sorrow she would rave about the beauties of -Glenbogie. Lucy, as she read the letters, told herself that Ayala's -grief was a grief to be borne, a grief almost to be enjoyed. To sit -and be sad with a stream purling by you, how different from the -sadness of that dining-room in the Crescent. To look out upon the -glories of a mountain, while a tear would now and again force itself -into the eye, how much less bitter than the falling of salt drops -over a tattered towel. - -Lucy, in her answers, endeavoured to repress the groans of her -spirit. In the first place she did acknowledge that it did not become -her to speak ill of those who were, in truth, her benefactors; and -then she was anxious not to declare to Ayala her feeling of the -injustice by which their two lots had been defined to them. Though -she had failed to control herself once or twice in speaking to her -aunt she did control herself in writing her letters. She would never, -never, write a word which should make Ayala unnecessarily unhappy. On -that she was determined. She would say nothing to explain to Ayala -the unutterable tedium of that downstairs parlour in which they -passed their lives, lest Ayala should feel herself to be wounded by -the luxurious comforts around her. - -It was thus she wrote. Then there came a time in which they were to -meet,--just at the beginning of November. The Tringles were going to -Rome. They generally did go somewhere. Glenbogie, Merle Park, and the -house in Queen's Gate, were not enough for the year. Sir Thomas was -to take them to Rome, and then return to London for the manipulation -of the millions in Lombard Street. He generally did remain nine -months out of the twelve in town, because of the millions, making his -visits at Merle Park very short; but Lady Tringle found that change -of air was good for the girls. It was her intention now to remain at -Rome for two or three months. - -The party from Scotland reached Queen's Gate late one Saturday -evening, and intended to start early on the Monday. To Ayala, who had -made it quite a matter of course that she should see her sister, Lady -Tringle had said that in that case a carriage must be sent across. -It was awkward, because there were no carriages in London. She had -thought that they had all intended to pass through London just as -though they were not stopping. Sunday, she had thought, was not to -be regarded as being a day at all. Then Ayala flashed up. She had -flashed up some times before. Was it supposed that she was not going -to see Lucy? Carriage! She would walk across Kensington Gardens, and -find the house out all by herself. She would spend the whole day with -Lucy, and come back alone in a cab. She was strong enough, at any -rate, to have her way so far, that a carriage, wherever it came from, -was sent for Lucy about three in the afternoon, and did take her back -to Kingsbury Crescent after dinner. - -Then at last the sisters were together in Ayala's bed-room. "And now -tell me about everything," said Ayala. - -But Lucy was resolved that she would not tell anything. "I am so -wretched!" That would have been all; but she would not tell her -wretchedness. "We are so quiet in Kingsbury Crescent," she said; "you -have so much more to talk of." - -"Oh, Lucy, I do not like it." - -"Not your aunt?" - -"She is not the worst, though she sometimes is hard to bear. I -can't tell you what it is, but they all seem to think so much of -themselves. In the first place they never will say a word about -papa." - -"Perhaps that is from feeling, Ayey." - -"No, it is not. One would know that. But they look down upon papa, -who had more in his little finger than they have with all their -money." - -"Then I should hold my tongue." - -"So I do,--about him; but it is very hard. And then Augusta has a way -with me, as though she had a right to order me. I certainly will not -be ordered by Augusta. You never ordered me." - -"Dear Ayey!" - -"Augusta is older than you,--of course, ever so much. They make her -out twenty-three at her last birthday, but she is twenty-four. But -that is not difference enough for ordering,--certainly between -cousins. I do hate Augusta." - -"I would not hate her." - -"How is one to help one's-self? She has a way of whispering to -Gertrude, and to her mother, when I am there, which almost kills me. -'If you'll only give me notice I'll go out of the room at once,' I -said the other day, and they were all so angry." - -"I would not make them angry if I were you, Ayey." - -"Why not?" - -"Not Sir Thomas, or Aunt Emmeline." - -"I don't care a bit for Sir Thomas. I am not sure but he is the most -good-natured, though he is so podgy. Of course, when Aunt Emmeline -tells me anything I do it." - -"It is so important that you should be on good terms with them." - -"I don't see it at all," said Ayala, flashing round. - -"Aunt Emmeline can do so much for you. We have nothing of our -own,--you and I." - -"Am I to sell myself because they have got money! No, indeed! No one -despises money so much as I do. I will never be other to them than if -I had the money, and they were the poor relations." - -"That will not do, Ayey." - -"I will make it do. They may turn me out if they like. Of course, I -know that I should obey my aunt, and so I will. If Sir Thomas told -me anything I should do it. But not Augusta." Then, while Lucy was -thinking how she might best put into soft words advice which was so -clearly needed, Ayala declared another trouble. "But there is worse -still." - -"What is that?" - -"Tom!" - -"What does Tom do?" - -"You know Tom, Lucy?" - -"I have seen him." - -"Of all the horrors he is the horridest." - -"Does he order you about?" - -"No; but he--" - -"What is it, Ayey?" - -"Oh! Lucy, he is so dreadful. He--" - -"You don't mean that he makes love to you?" - -"He does. What am I to do, Lucy?" - -"Do they know it?" - -"Augusta does, I'm sure; and pretends to think that it is my fault. -I am sure that there will be a terrible quarrel some day. I told him -the day before we left Glenbogie that I should tell his mother. I did -indeed. Then he grinned. He is such a fool. And when I laughed he -took it all as kindness. I couldn't have helped laughing if I had -died for it." - -"But he has been left behind." - -"Yes, for the present. But he is to come over to us some time after -Christmas, when Uncle Tringle has gone back." - -"A girl need not be bothered by a lover unless she chooses, Ayey." - -"But it will be such a bother to have to talk about it. He looks at -me, and is such an idiot. Then Augusta frowns. When I see Augusta -frowning I am so angry that I feel like boxing her ears. Do you know, -Lucy, that I often think that it will not do, and that I shall have -to be sent away. I wish it had been you that they had chosen." - -Such was the conversation between the girls. Of what was said -everything appertained to Ayala. Of the very nature of Lucy's life -not a word was spoken. As Ayala was talking Lucy was constantly -thinking of all that might be lost by her sister's imprudence. Even -though Augusta might be disagreeable, even though Tom might be a -bore, it should all be borne,--borne at any rate for a while,--seeing -how terrible would be the alternative. The alternative to Lucy seemed -to be Kingsbury Crescent and Aunt Dosett. It did not occur to her to -think whether in any possible case Ayala would indeed be added to the -Crescent family, or what in that case would become of herself, and -whether they two might live with Aunt Dosett, and whether in that -case life would not be infinitely improved. Ayala had all that money -could do for her, and would have such a look-out into the world from -a wealthy house as might be sure at last to bring her some such -husband as would be desirable. Ayala, in fact, had everything before -her, and Lucy had nothing. Wherefore it became Lucy's duty to warn -Ayala, so that she should bear with much, and throw away nothing. If -Ayala could only know what life might be, what life was at Kingsbury -Crescent, then she would be patient, then she would softly make a -confidence with her aunt as to Tom's folly, then she would propitiate -Augusta. Not care for money! Ayala had not yet lived in an ugly room -and darned sheets all the morning. Ayala had never sat for two hours -between the slumbers of Uncle Dosett and the knitting of Aunt Dosett. -Ayala had not been brought into contact with gin and water. - -"Oh, Ayala!" she said, as they were going down to dinner together, -"do struggle; do bear it. Tell Aunt Emmeline. She will like you to -tell her. If Augusta wants you to go anywhere, do go. What does it -signify? Papa and mamma are gone, and we are alone." All this she -said without a word of allusion to her own sufferings. Ayala made a -half promise. She did not think she would go anywhere for Augusta's -telling; but she would do her best to satisfy Aunt Emmeline. Then -they went to dinner, and after dinner Lucy was taken home without -further words between them. - -Ayala wrote long letters on her journey, full of what she saw, and -full of her companions. From Paris she wrote, and then from Turin, -and then again on their immediate arrival at Rome. Her letters were -most imprudent as written from the close vicinity of her aunt and -cousin. It was such a comfort that that oaf Tom had been left behind. -Uncle Tringle was angry because he did not get what he liked to eat. -Aunt Emmeline gave that courier such a terrible life, sending for him -every quarter of an hour. Augusta would talk first French and then -Italian, of which no one could understand a word. Gertrude was so -sick with travelling that she was as pale as a sheet. Nobody seemed -to care for anything. She could not get her aunt to look at the -Campanile at Florence, or her cousins to know one picture from -another. "As for pictures, I am quite sure that Mangle's angels would -do as well as Raffael's." Mangle was a brother academician whom their -father had taught them to despise. There was contempt, most foolish -contempt, for all the Tringles; but, luckily, there had been no -quarrelling. Then it seemed that both in Paris and in Florence Ayala -had bought pretty things, from which it was to be argued that her -uncle had provided her liberally with money. One pretty thing had -been sent from Paris to Lucy, which could not have been bought for -less than many franks. It would not be fair that Ayala should take so -much without giving something in return. - -Lucy knew that she too should give something in return. Though -Kingsbury Crescent was not attractive, though Aunt Dosett was not to -her a pleasant companion, she had begun to realise the fact that it -behoved her to be grateful, if only for the food she ate, and for the -bed on which she slept. As she thought of all that Ayala owed she -remembered also her own debts. As the winter went on she struggled to -pay them. But Aunt Dosett was a lady not much given to vacillation. -She had become aware at first that Lucy had been rough to her, and -she did not easily open herself to Lucy's endearments. Lucy's life at -Kingsbury Crescent had begun badly, and Lucy, though she understood -much about it, found it hard to turn a bad beginning to a good -result. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -ISADORE HAMEL. - - -It was suggested to Lucy before she had been long in Kingsbury -Crescent that she should take some exercise. For the first week she -had hardly been out of the house; but this was attributed to her -sorrow. Then she had accompanied her aunt for a few days during the -half-hour's marketing which took place every morning, but in this -there had been no sympathy. Lucy would not interest herself in -the shoulder of mutton which must be of just such a weight as to -last conveniently for two days,--twelve pounds,--of which, it was -explained to her, more than one-half was intended for the two -servants, because there was always a more lavish consumption in the -kitchen than in the parlour. Lucy would not appreciate the fact that -eggs at a penny a piece, whatever they might be, must be used for -puddings, as eggs with even a reputation of freshness cost twopence. -Aunt Dosett, beyond this, never left the house on week-days except -for a few calls which were made perhaps once a month, on which -occasion the Sunday gloves and the Sunday silk dress were used. On -Sunday they all went to church. But this was not enough for exercise, -and as Lucy was becoming pale she was recommended to take to walking -in Kensington Gardens. - -It is generally understood that there are raging lions about the -metropolis, who would certainly eat up young ladies whole if young -ladies were to walk about the streets or even about the parks by -themselves. There is, however, beginning to be some vacillation as -to the received belief on this subject as regards London. In large -continental towns, such as Paris and Vienna, young ladies would be -devoured certainly. Such, at least, is the creed. In New York and -Washington there are supposed to be no lions, so that young ladies -go about free as air. In London there is a rising doubt, under which -before long, probably, the lions will succumb altogether. Mrs. Dosett -did believe somewhat in lions, but she believed also in exercise. And -she was aware that the lions eat up chiefly rich people. Young ladies -who must go about without mothers, brothers, uncles, carriages, or -attendants of any sort, are not often eaten or even roared at. It -is the dainty darlings for whom the roarings have to be feared. Mrs. -Dosett, aware that daintiness was no longer within the reach of her -and hers, did assent to these walkings in Kensington Gardens. At some -hour in the afternoon Lucy would walk from the house by herself, and -within a quarter of an hour would find herself on the broad gravel -path which leads down to the Round Pond. From thence she would go by -the back of the Albert Memorial, and then across by the Serpentine -and return to the same gate, never leaving Kensington Gardens. Aunt -Dosett had expressed some old-fashioned idea that lions were more -likely to roar in Hyde Park than within the comparatively retired -purlieus of Kensington. - -Now the reader must be taken back for a few moments to the bijou, as -the bijou was before either the artist or his wife had died. In those -days there had been a frequent concourse of people in the artist's -house. Society there had not consisted chiefly of eating and -drinking. Men and women would come in and out as though really for -a purpose of talking. There would be three or four constantly with -Dormer in his studio, helping him but little perhaps in the real -furtherance of his work, though discussing art subjects in a manner -calculated to keep alive art-feeling among them. A novelist or two of -a morning might perhaps aid me in my general pursuit, but would, I -think, interfere with the actual tally of pages. Egbert Dormer did -not turn out from his hand so much work as some men that I know, but -he was overflowing with art up to his ears;--and with tobacco, so -that, upon the whole, the bijou was a pleasant rendezvous. - -There had come there of late, quite of late, a young sculptor, named -Isadore Hamel. Hamel was an Englishman, who, however, had been -carried very early to Rome and had been bred there. Of his mother -question never was made, but his father had been well known as an -English sculptor resident at Rome. The elder Hamel had been a man of -mark, who had a fine suite of rooms in the city and a villa on one -of the lakes, but who never came to England. English connections -were, he said, to him abominable, by which he perhaps meant that the -restrictions of decent life were not to his taste. But his busts -came, and his groups in marble, and now and again some great work for -some public decoration: so that money was plentiful with him, and -he was a man of note. It must be acknowledged of him that he spared -nothing in bringing up his son, giving him such education as might -best suit his future career as an artist, and that money was always -forthcoming for the lad's wants and fantasies. - -Then young Hamel also became a sculptor of much promise; but early in -life differed from his father on certain subjects of importance. The -father was wedded to Rome and to Italy. Isadore gradually expressed -an opinion that the nearer a man was to his market the better for -him, that all that art could do for a man in Rome was as nothing -to the position which a great artist might make for himself in -London,--that, in fact, an Englishman had better be an Englishman. At -twenty-six he succeeded in his attempt, and became known as a young -sculptor with a workshop at Brompton. He became known to many both -by his work and his acquirements; but it may not be surprising that -after a year he was still unable to live, as he had been taught to -live, without drawing upon his father. Then his father threw his -failure in his teeth, not refusing him money indeed, but making the -receipt of it unpleasant to him. - -At no house had Isadore Hamel been made so welcome as at Dormer's. -There was a sympathy between them both on that great question of -art, whether to an artist his art should be a matter to him of more -importance than all the world besides. So said Dormer,--who simply -died because his wife died, who could not have touched his brush if -one of his girls had been suffering, who, with all his genius, was -but a faineant workman. His art more than all the world to him! -No, not to him. Perhaps here and again to some enthusiast, and him -hardly removed from madness! Where is the painter who shall paint a -picture after his soul's longing though he shall get not a penny for -it,--though he shall starve as he put his last touch to it, when he -knows that by drawing some duchess of the day he shall in a fortnight -earn a ducal price? Shall a wife and child be less dear to him than -to a lawyer,--or to a shoemaker; or the very craving of his hunger -less obdurate? A man's self, and what he has within him and his -belongings, with his outlook for this and other worlds,--let that -be the first, and the work, noble or otherwise, be the second. -To be honest is greater than to have painted the San Sisto, or -to have chiselled the Apollo; to have assisted in making others -honest,--infinitely greater. All of which were discussed at great -length at the bijou, and the bijouites always sided with the -master of the house. To an artist, said Dormer, let his art be -everything,--above wife and children, above money, above health, -above even character. Then he would put out his hand with his -jewelled finger, and stretch forth his velvet-clad arm, and soon -after lead his friend away to the little dinner at which no luxury -had been spared. But young Hamel agreed with the sermons, and not the -less because Lucy Dormer had sat by and listened to them with rapt -attention. - -Not a word of love had been spoken to her by the sculptor when her -mother died, but there had been glances and little feelings of which -each was half conscious. It is so hard for a young man to speak of -love, if there be real love,--so impossible that a girl should do so! -Not a word had been spoken, but each had thought that the other must -have known. To Lucy a word had been spoken by her mother,--"Do not -think too much of him till you know," the mother had said,--not -quite prudently. "Oh, no! I will think of him not at all," Lucy had -replied. And she had thought of him day and night. "I wonder why Mr. -Hamel is so different with you?" Ayala had said to her sister. "I am -sure he is not different with me," Lucy had replied. Then Ayala had -shaken her full locks and smiled. - -Things came quickly after that. Mrs. Dormer had sickened and died. -There was no time then for thinking of that handsome brow, of -that short jet black hair, of those eyes so full of fire and -thoughtfulness, of that perfect mouth, and the deep but yet soft -voice. Still even in her sorrow this new god of her idolatry was not -altogether forgotten. It was told to her that he had been summoned -off to Rome by his father, and she wondered whether he was to find -his home at Rome for ever. Then her father was ill, and in his -illness Hamel came to say one word of farewell before he started. - -"You find me crushed to the ground," the painter said. Something the -young man whispered as to the consolation which time would bring. -"Not to me," said Dormer. "It is as though one had lost his eyes. One -cannot see without his eyes." It was true of him. His light had been -put out. - -Then, on the landing at the top of the stairs, there had been one -word between Lucy and the sculptor. "I ought not to have intruded on -you perhaps," he said; "but after so much kindness I could hardly go -without a word." - -"I am sure he will be glad that you have come." - -"And you?" - -"I am glad too,--so that I may say good-bye." Then she put out her -hand, and he held it for a moment as he looked into her eyes. There -was not a word more, but it seemed to Lucy as though there had been -so many words. - -Things went on quickly. Egbert Dormer died, and Lucy was taken away -to Kingsbury Crescent. When once Ayala had spoken about Mr. Hamel, -Lucy had silenced her. Any allusion to the idea of love wounded her, -as though it was too impossible for dreams, too holy for words. How -should there be words about a lover when father and mother were both -dead? He had gone to his old and natural home. He had gone, and of -course he would not return. To Ayala, when she came up to London -early in November, to Ayala, who was going to Rome, where Isadore -Hamel now was, Isadore Hamel's name was not mentioned. But through -the long mornings of her life, through the long evenings, through the -long nights, she still thought of him,--she could not keep herself -from thinking. To a girl whose life is full of delights her lover -need not be so very much,--need not, at least, be everything. -Though he be a lover to be loved at all points, her friends will be -something, her dancing, her horse, her theatre-going, her brothers -and sisters, even her father and mother. But Lucy had nothing. The -vision of Isadore Hamel had passed across her life, and had left with -her the only possession that she had. It need hardly be said that -she never alluded to that possession at Kingsbury Crescent. It was -not a possession from which any enjoyment could come except that of -thinking of it. He had passed away from her, and there was no point -of life at which he could come across her again. There was no longer -that half-joint studio. If it had been her lot to be as was Ayala, -she then would have been taken to Rome. Then again he would have -looked into her eyes and taken her hand in his. Then perhaps--. -But now, even though he were to come back to London, he would know -nothing of her haunts. Even in that case nothing would bring them -together. As the idea was crossing her mind,--as it did cross it -so frequently,--she saw him turning from the path on which she was -walking, making his way towards the steps of the Memorial. - -Though she saw no more than his back she was sure that it was Isadore -Hamel. For a moment there was an impulse on her to run after him and -to call his name. It was then early in January, and she was taking -her daily walk through Kensington Gardens. She had walked there daily -now for the last two months and had never spoken a word or been -addressed,--had never seen a face that she had recognised. It had -seemed to her that she had not an acquaintance in the world except -Uncle Reg and Aunt Dosett. And now, almost within reach of her hand, -was the one being in all the world whom she most longed to see. She -did stand, and the word was formed within her lips; but she could not -speak it. Then came the thought that she would run after him, but the -thought was expelled quickly. Though she might lose him again and for -ever she could not do that. She stood almost gasping till he was out -of sight, and then she passed on upon her usual round. - -She never omitted her walks after that, and always paused a moment -as the path turned away to the Memorial. It was not that she thought -that she might meet him there,--there rather than elsewhere,--but -there is present to us often an idea that when some object has passed -from us that we have desired then it may be seen again. Day after -day, and week after week, she did not see him. During this time there -came letters from Ayala, saying that their return to England was -postponed till the first week in February,--that she would certainly -see Lucy in February,--that she was not going to be hurried through -London in half-an-hour because her aunt wished it; and that she would -do as she pleased as to visiting her sister. Then there was a word -or two about Tom,--"Oh, Tom--that idiot Tom!" And another word or -two about Augusta. "Augusta is worse than ever. We have not spoken -to each other for the last day or two." This came but a day or two -before the intended return of the Tringles. - -No actual day had been fixed. But on the day before that on which -Lucy thought it probable that the Tringles might return to town she -was again walking in the Gardens. Having put two and two together, -as people do, she felt sure that the travellers could not be away -more than a day or two longer. Her mind was much intent upon Ayala, -feeling that the imprudent girl was subjecting herself to great -danger, knowing that it was wrong that she and Augusta should be -together in the house without speaking,--thinking of her sister's -perils,--when, of a sudden, Hamel was close before her! There was no -question of calling to him now,--no question of an attempt to see him -face to face. She had been wandering along the path with eyes fixed -upon the ground, when her name was sharply called, and they two were -close to each other. Hamel had a friend with him, and it seemed to -Lucy at once, that she could only bow to him, only mutter something, -and then pass on. How can a girl stand and speak to a gentleman in -public, especially when that gentleman has a friend with him? She -tried to look pleasant, bowed, smiled, muttered something, and was -passing on. But he was not minded to lose her thus immediately. "Miss -Dormer," he said, "I have seen your sister at Rome. May I not say a -word about her?" - -Why should he not say a word about Ayala? In a minute he had left -his friend, and was walking back along the path with Lucy. There was -not much that he had to say about Ayala. He had seen Ayala and the -Tringles, and did manage to let it escape him that Lady Tringle -had not been very gracious to himself when once, in public, he had -claimed acquaintance with Ayala. But at that he simply smiled. Then -he had asked of Lucy where she lived. "With my uncle, Mr. Dosett," -said Lucy, "at Kingsbury Crescent." Then, when he asked whether he -might call, Lucy, with many blushes, had said that her aunt did not -receive many visitors,--that her uncle's house was different from -what her father's had been. - -"Shall I not see you at all, then?" he asked. - -She did not like to ask him after his own purposes of life, whether -he was now a resident in London, or whether he intended to return to -Rome. She was covered with bashfulness, and dreaded to seem even to -be interested in his affairs. "Oh, yes," she said; "perhaps we may -meet some day." - -"Here?" he asked. - -"Oh, no; not here! It was only an accident." As she said this she -determined that she must walk no more in Kensington Gardens. It would -be dreadful, indeed, were he to imagine that she would consent to -make an appointment with him. It immediately occurred to her that the -lions were about, and that she must shut herself up. - -"I have thought of you every day since I have been back," he said, -"and I did not know where to hear of you. Now that we have met am I -to lose you again!" Lose her! What did he mean by losing her? She, -too, had found a friend,--she who had been so friendless! Would it -not be dreadful to her, also, to lose him? "Is there no place where I -may ask of you?" - -"When Ayala is back, and they are in town, perhaps I shall sometimes -be at Lady Tringle's," said Lucy, resolved that she would not tell -him of her immediate abode. This was, at any rate, a certain address -from where he might commence further inquiries, should he wish to -make inquiry; and as such he accepted it. "I think I had better go -now," said Lucy, trembling at the apparent impropriety of her present -conversation. - -He knew that it was intended that he should leave her, and he went. -"I hope I have not offended you in coming so far." - -"Oh, no." Then again she gave him her hand, and again there was the -same look as he took his leave. - -When she got home, which was before the dusk, having resolved that -she must, at any rate, tell her aunt that she had met a friend, she -found that her uncle had returned from his office. This was a most -unusual occurrence. Her uncle, she knew, left Somerset House exactly -at half-past four, and always took an hour and a quarter for his -walk. She had never seen him in Kingsbury Crescent till a quarter -before six. "I have got letters from Rome," he said, in a solemn -voice. - -"From Ayala?" - -"One from Ayala, for you. It is here. And I have had one from my -sister, also; and one, in the course of the day, from your uncle -in Lombard Street. You had better read them!" There was something -terribly tragic in Uncle Dosett's voice as he spoke. - -And so must the reader read the letters; but they must be delayed for -a few chapters. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -AT GLENBOGIE. - - -We must go back to Ayala's life during the autumn and winter. She was -rapidly whirled away to Glenbogie amidst the affectionate welcomings -of her aunt and cousins. All manner of good things were done for her, -as to presents and comforts. Young as she was, she had money given to -her, which was not without attraction; and though she was, of course, -in the depth of her mourning, she was made to understand that even -mourning might be made becoming if no expense were spared. No expense -among the Tringles ever was spared, and at first Ayala liked the -bounty of profusion. But before the end of the first fortnight there -grew upon her a feeling that even bank notes become tawdry if you are -taught to use them as curl-papers. It may be said that nothing in the -world is charming unless it be achieved at some trouble. If it rained -"'64 Leoville,"--which I regard as the most divine of nectars,--I -feel sure that I should never raise it to my lips. Ayala did not -argue the matter out in her mind, but in very early days she began to -entertain a dislike to Tringle magnificence. There had been a good -deal of luxury at the bijou, but always with a feeling that it ought -not to be there,--that more money was being spent than prudence -authorised,--which had certainly added a savour to the luxuries. A -lovely bonnet, is it not more lovely because the destined wearer -knows that there is some wickedness in achieving it? All the bonnets, -all the claret, all the horses, seemed to come at Queen's Gate and at -Glenbogie without any wickedness. There was no more question about -them than as to one's ordinary bread and butter at breakfast. Sir -Thomas had a way,--a merit shall we call it or a fault?--of pouring -out his wealth upon the family as though it were water running in -perpetuity from a mountain tarn. Ayala the romantic, Ayala the -poetic, found very soon that she did not like it. - -Perhaps the only pleasure left to the very rich is that of thinking -of the deprivations of the poor. The bonnets, and the claret, and the -horses, have lost their charm; but the Gladstone, and the old hats, -and the four-wheeled cabs of their neighbours, still have a little -flavour for them. From this source it seemed to Ayala that the -Tringles drew much of the recreation of their lives. Sir Thomas -had his way of enjoying this amusement, but it was a way that did -not specially come beneath Ayala's notice. When she heard that -Break-at-last, the Huddersfield manufacturer, had to sell his -pictures, and that all Shoddy and Stuffgoods' grand doings for -the last two years had only been a flash in the pan, she did not -understand enough about it to feel wounded; but when she heard her -aunt say that people like the Poodles had better not have a place -in Scotland than have to let it, and when Augusta hinted that Lady -Sophia Smallware had pawned her diamonds, then she felt that her -nearest and dearest relatives smelt abominably of money. - -Of all the family Sir Thomas was most persistently the kindest to -her, though he was a man who did not look to be kind. She was pretty, -and though he was ugly himself he liked to look at things pretty. He -was, too, perhaps, a little tired of his own wife and daughters,--who -were indeed what he had made them, but still were not quite to his -taste. In a general way he gave instructions that Ayala should -be treated exactly as a daughter, and he informed his wife that -he intended to add a codicil to his will on her behalf. "Is that -necessary?" asked Lady Tringle, who began to feel something like -natural jealousy. "I suppose I ought to do something for a girl if -I take her by the hand," said Sir Thomas, roughly. "If she gets a -husband I will give her something, and that will do as well." Nothing -more was said about it, but when Sir Thomas went up to town the -codicil was added to his will. - -Ayala was foolish rather than ungrateful, not understanding the -nature of the family to which she was relegated. Before she had been -taken away she had promised Lucy that she would be "obedient" to her -aunt. There had hardly been such a word as obedience known at the -bijou. If any were obedient, it was the mother and the father to the -daughters. Lucy, and Ayala as well, had understood something of this; -and therefore Ayala had promised to be obedient to her aunt. "And to -Uncle Thomas," Lucy had demanded, with an imploring embrace. "Oh, -yes," said Ayala, dreading her uncle at that time. She soon learned -that no obedience whatsoever was exacted from Sir Thomas. She had to -kiss him morning and evening, and then to take whatever presents he -made her. An easy uncle he was to deal with, and she almost learned -to love him. Nor was Aunt Emmeline very exigeant, though she was -fantastic and sometimes disagreeable. But Augusta was the great -difficulty. Lucy had not told her to obey Augusta, and Augusta she -would not obey. Now Augusta demanded obedience. - -"You never ordered me," Ayala had said to Lucy when they met in -London as the Tringles were passing through. At the bijou there had -been a republic, in which all the inhabitants and all the visitors -had been free and equal. Such republicanism had been the very -mainspring of life at the bijou. Ayala loved equality, and she -specially felt that it should exist among sisters. Do anything for -Lucy? Oh, yes, indeed, anything; abandon anything; but for Lucy as a -sister among sisters, not for an elder as from a younger! And if she -were not bound to serve Lucy then certainly not Augusta. But Augusta -liked to be served. On one occasion she sent Ayala upstairs, and on -another she sent Ayala down-stairs. Ayala went, but determined to -be equal with her cousin. On the morning following, in the presence -of Aunt Emmeline and of Gertrude, in the presence also of two other -ladies who were visiting at the house, she asked Augusta if she would -mind running upstairs and fetching her scrap-book! She had been -thinking about it all the night and all the morning, plucking up her -courage. But she had been determined. She found a great difficulty in -saying the words, but she said them. The thing was so preposterous -that all the ladies in the room looked aghast at the proposition. "I -really think that Augusta has got something else to do," said Aunt -Emmeline. "Oh, very well," said Ayala, and then they were all silent. -Augusta, who was employed on a silk purse, sat still and did not say -a word. - -Had a great secret, or rather a great piece of news which pervaded -the family, been previously communicated to Ayala, she would not -probably have made so insane a suggestion. Augusta was engaged to -be married to the Honourable Septimus Traffick, the member for Port -Glasgow. A young lady who is already half a bride is not supposed -to run up and down stairs as readily as a mere girl. For running up -and down stairs at the bijou Ayala had been proverbial. They were a -family who ran up and down with the greatest alacrity. "Oh, papa, my -basket is out on the seat"--for there had been a seat in the two-foot -garden behind the house. Papa would go down in two jumps and come up -with three skips, and there was the basket, only because his girl -liked him to do something for her. But for him Ayala would run about -as though she were a tricksy Ariel. Had the important matrimonial -news been conveyed to Ariel, with a true girl's spirit she would have -felt that during the present period Augusta was entitled to special -exemption from all ordering. Had she herself been engaged she would -have run more and quicker than ever,--would have been excited thereto -by the peculiar vitality of her new prospects; but to even Augusta -she would be subservient, because of her appreciation of bridal -importance. She, however, had not been told till that afternoon. - -"You should not have asked Augusta to go up stairs," said Aunt -Emmeline, in a tone of mitigated reproach. - -"Oh! I didn't know," said Ayala. - -"You had meant to say that because she had sent you you were to send -her. There is a difference, you know." - -"I didn't know," said Ayala, beginning to think that she would fight -her battle if told of such differences as she believed to exist. - -"I had meant to tell you before, but I may as well tell you now, -Augusta is engaged to be married to the Honourable Mr. Septimus -Traffick. He is second son of Lord Boardotrade, and is in the House." - -"Dear me!" said Ayala, acknowledging at once within her heart that -the difference alleged was one against which she need not rouse -herself to the fight. Aunt Emmeline had, in truth, intended to insist -on that difference--and another; but her courage had failed her. - -"Yes, indeed. He is a man very much thought of just now in public -life, and Augusta's mind is naturally much occupied. He writes all -those letters in The Times about supply and demand." - -"Does he, aunt?" Ayala did feel that if Augusta's mind was entirely -occupied with supply and demand she ought not to be made to go -upstairs to fetch a scrap-book. But she had her doubts about -Augusta's mind. Nevertheless, if the forthcoming husband were true, -that might be a reason. "If anybody had told me before I wouldn't -have asked her," she said. - -Then Lady Tringle explained that it had been thought better not to -say anything heretofore as to the coming matrimonial hilarities -because of the sadness which had fallen upon the Dormer family. Ayala -accepted this as an excuse, and nothing further was said as to the -iniquity of her request to her cousin. But there was a general -feeling among the women that Ayala, in lieu of gratitude, had -exhibited an intention of rebelling. - -On the next day Mr. Traffick arrived, whose coming had probably -made it necessary that the news should be told. Ayala was never so -surprised in her life as when she saw him. She had never yet had a -lover of her own, had never dreamed of a lover, but she had her own -idea as to what a lover ought to be. She had thought that Isadore -Hamel would be a very nice lover--for her sister. Hamel was young, -handsome, with a great deal to say on such a general subject as art, -but too bashful to talk easily to the girl he admired. Ayala had -thought that all that was just as it should be. She was altogether -resolved that Hamel and her sister should be lovers, and was -determined to be devoted to her future brother-in-law. But the -Honourable Septimus Traffick! It was a question to her whether her -Uncle Tringle would not have been better as a lover. - -And yet there was nothing amiss about Mr. Traffick. He was very much -like an ordinary hard-working member of the House of Commons, over -perhaps rather than under forty years of age. He was somewhat bald, -somewhat grey, somewhat fat, and had lost that look of rosy plumpness -which is seldom, I fear, compatible with hard work and late hours. He -was not particularly ugly, nor was he absurd in appearance. But he -looked to be a disciple of business, not of pleasure, nor of art. "To -sit out on the bank of a stream and have him beside one would not be -particularly nice," thought Ayala to herself. Mr. Traffick no doubt -would have enjoyed it very well if he could have spared the time; but -to Ayala it seemed that such a man as that could have cared nothing -for love. As soon as she saw him, and realised in her mind the fact -that Augusta was to become his wife, she felt at once the absurdity -of sending Augusta on a message. - -Augusta that evening was somewhat more than ordinarily kind to her -cousin. Now that the great secret was told, her cousin no doubt -would recognise her importance. "I suppose you had not heard of him -before?" she said to Ayala. - -"I never did." - -"That's because you have not attended to the debates." - -"I never have. What are debates?" - -"Mr. Traffick is very much thought of in the House of Commons on all -subjects affecting commerce." - -"Oh!" - -"It is the most glorious study which the world affords." - -"The House of Commons. I don't think it can be equal to art." - -Then Augusta turned up her nose with a double turn,--first as against -painters, Mr. Dormer having been no more, and then at Ayala's -ignorance in supposing that the House of Commons could have been -spoken of as a study. "Mr. Traffick will probably be in the -government some day," she said. - -"Has not he been yet?" asked Ayala. - -"Not yet." - -"Then won't he be very old before he gets there?" This was a terrible -question. Young ladies of five-and-twenty, when they marry gentlemen -of four-and-fifty, make up their minds for well-understood and -well-recognised old age. They see that they had best declare their -purpose, and they do declare it. "Of course, Mr. Walker is old enough -to be my father, but I have made up my mind that I like that better -than anything else." Then the wall has been jumped, and the thing can -go smoothly. But at forty-five there is supposed to be so much of -youth left that the difference of age may possibly be tided over and -not made to appear abnormal. Augusta Tringle had determined to tide -it over in this way. The forty-five had been gradually reduced to -"less than forty,"--though all the Peerages were there to give the -lie to the assertion. She talked of her lover as Septimus, and was -quite prepared to sit with him beside a stream if only half-an-hour -for the amusement could be found. When, therefore, Ayala suggested -that if her lover wanted to get into office he had better do so -quickly, lest he should be too old, Augusta was not well pleased. - -"Lord Boardotrade was much older when he began," said Augusta. "His -friends, indeed, tell Septimus that he should not push himself -forward too quickly. But I don't think that I ever came across any -one who was so ignorant of such things as you are, Ayala." - -"Perhaps he is not so old as he looks," said Ayala. After this it may -be imagined that there was not close friendship between the cousins. -Augusta's mind was filled with a strong conception as to Ayala's -ingratitude. The houseless, penniless orphan had been taken in, and -had done nothing but make herself disagreeable. Young! No doubt she -was young. But had she been as old as Methuselah she could not have -been more insolent. It did not, however, matter to her, Augusta. -She was going away; but it would be terrible to her mamma and to -Gertrude! Thus it was that Augusta spoke of her cousin to her mother. - -And then there came another trouble, which was more troublesome to -Ayala even than the other. Tom Tringle, who was in the house in -Lombard Street, who was the only son, and heir to the title and no -doubt to much of the wealth, had chosen to take Ayala's part and to -enlist himself as her special friend. Ayala had, at first, accepted -him as a cousin, and had consented to fraternise with him. Then, on -some unfortunate day, there had been some word or look which she had -failed not to understand, and immediately she had become afraid of -Tom. Tom was not like Isadore Hamel,--was very far, indeed, from that -idea of a perfect lover which Ayala's mind had conceived; but he was -by no means a lout, or an oaf, or an idiot, as Ayala in her letters -to her sister had described him. He had been first at Eton and then -at Oxford, and having spent a great deal of money recklessly, and -done but little towards his education, had been withdrawn and put -into the office. His father declared of him now that he would do -fairly well in the world. He had a taste for dress, and kept four or -five hunters which he got but little credit by riding. He made a fuss -about his shooting, but did not shoot much. He was stout and awkward -looking,--very like his father, but without that settled air which -age gives to heavy men. In appearance he was not the sort of lover -to satisfy the preconceptions of such a girl as Ayala. But he was -good-natured and true. At last he became to her terribly true. His -love, such as it seemed at first, was absurd to her. "If you make -yourself such a fool, Tom, I'll never speak to you again," she had -said, once. Even after that she had not understood that it was -more than a stupid joke. But the joke, while it was considered as -such, was very distasteful to her; and afterwards, when a certain -earnestness in it was driven in upon her, it became worse than -distasteful. - -She repudiated his love with such power as she had, but she could not -silence him. She could not at all understand that a young man, who -seemed to her to be an oaf, should really be in love,--honestly in -love with her. But such was the case. Then she became afraid lest -others should see it,--afraid, though she often told herself that she -would appeal to her aunt for protection. "I tell you I don't care a -bit about you, and you oughtn't to go on," she said. But he did go -on, and though her aunt did not see it Augusta did. - -Then Augusta spoke a word to her in scorn. "Ayala," she said, "you -should not encourage Tom." - -Encourage him! What a word from one girl to another! What a world -of wrong there was in the idea which had created the word! What an -absence of the sort of feeling which, according to Ayala's theory -of life, there should be on such a matter between two sisters, two -cousins, or two friends! Encourage him! When Augusta ought to have -been the first to assist her in her trouble! "Oh, Augusta," she said, -turning sharply round, "what a spiteful creature you are." - -"I suppose you think so, because I do not choose to approve." - -"Approve of what! Tom is thoroughly disagreeable. Sometimes he makes -my life such a burden to me that I think I shall have to go to my -aunt. But you are worse. Oh!" exclaimed Ayala, shuddering as she -thought of the unwomanly treachery of which her cousin was guilty -towards her. - -Nothing more came of it at Glenbogie. Tom was required in Lombard -Street, and the matter was not suspected by Aunt Emmeline,--as far, -at least, as Ayala was aware. When he was gone it was to her as -though there would be a world of time before she would see him again. -They were to go to Rome, and he would not be at Rome till January. -Before that he might have forgotten his folly. But Ayala was quite -determined that she would never forget the ill offices of Augusta. -She did hate Augusta, as she had told her sister. Then, in this frame -of mind, the family was taken to Rome. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -AT ROME. - - -During her journeying and during her sojourn at Rome Ayala did enjoy -much; but even these joys did not come to her without causing some -trouble of spirit. At Glenbogie everybody had known that she was a -dependent niece, and that as such she was in truth nobody. On that -morning when she had ordered Augusta to go upstairs the two visitors -had stared with amazement,--who would not have stared at all had -they heard Ayala ordered in the same way. But it came about that in -Rome Ayala was almost of more importance than the Tringles. It was -absolutely true that Lady Tringle and Augusta and Gertrude were asked -here and there because of Ayala; and the worst of it was that the -fact was at last suspected by the Tringles themselves. Sometimes they -would not always be asked. One of the Tringle girls would only be -named. But Ayala was never forgotten. Once or twice an effort was -made by some grand lady, whose taste was perhaps more conspicuous -than her good-nature, to get Ayala without burdening herself with any -of the Tringles. When this became clear to the mind of Augusta,--of -Augusta, engaged as she was to the Honourable Septimus Traffick, -Member of Parliament,--Augusta's feelings were--such as may better -be understood than described! "Don't let her go, mamma," she said to -Lady Tringle one morning. - -"But the Marchesa has made such a point of it." - -"Bother the Marchesa! Who is the Marchesa? I believe it is all -Ayala's doing because she expects to meet that Mr. Hamel. It is -dreadful to see the way she goes on." - -"Mr. Hamel was a very intimate friend of her father's." - -"I don't believe a bit of it." - -"He certainly used to be at his house. I remember seeing him." - -"I daresay; but that doesn't justify Ayala in running after him as -she does. I believe that all this about the Marchesa is because of -Mr. Hamel." This was better than believing that Ayala was to be asked -to sing, and that Ayala was to be feted and admired and danced with, -simply because Ayala was Ayala, and that they, the Tringles, in spite -of Glenbogie, Merle Park, and Queen's Gate, were not wanted at all. -But when Aunt Emmeline signified to Ayala that on that particular -morning she had better not go to the Marchesa's picnic, Ayala simply -said that she had promised;--and Ayala went. - -At this time no gentleman of the family was with them. Sir Thomas -had gone, and Tom Tringle had not come. Then, just at Christmas, the -Honourable Septimus Traffick came for a short visit,--a very short -visit, no more than four or five days, because Supply and Demand were -requiring all his services in preparation for the coming Session -of Parliament. But for five halcyon days he was prepared to devote -himself to the glories of Rome under the guidance of Augusta. He -did not of course sleep at the Palazzo Ruperti, where it delighted -Lady Tringle to inform her friends in Rome that she had a suite of -apartments "au premiere," but he ate there and drank there and almost -lived there; so that it became absolutely necessary to inform the -world of Rome that it was Augusta's destiny to become in course of -time the Honourable Mrs. Traffick, otherwise the close intimacy -would hardly have been discreet,--unless it had been thought, as the -ill-natured Marchesa had hinted, that Mr. Traffick was Lady Tringle's -elder brother. Augusta, however, was by no means ashamed of her -lover. Perhaps she felt that when it was known that she was about -to be the bride of so great a man then doors would be open for her -at any rate as wide as for her cousin. At this moment she was very -important to herself. She was about to convey no less a sum than -L120,000 to Mr. Traffick, who, in truth, as younger son of Lord -Boardotrade, was himself not well endowed. Considering her own -position and her future husband's rank and standing, she did not -know how a young woman could well be more important. She was very -important at any rate to Mr. Traffick. She was sure of that. When, -therefore, she learned that Ayala had been asked to a grand ball at -the Marchesa's, that Mr. Traffick was also to be among the guests, -and that none of the Tringles had been invited,--then her anger -became hot. - -She must have been very stupid when she took it into her head to be -jealous of Mr. Traffick's attention to her cousin; stupid, at any -rate, when she thought that her cousin was laying out feminine lures -for Mr. Traffick. Poor Ayala! We shall see much of her in these -pages, and it may be well to declare of her at once that her ideas -at this moment about men,--or rather about a possible man,--were -confined altogether to the abstract. She had floating in her young -mind some fancies as to the beauty of love. That there should be a -hero must of course be necessary. But in her day-dreams this hero was -almost celestial,--or, at least, aethereal. It was a concentration -of poetic perfection to which there was not as yet any appanage of -apparel, of features, or of wealth. It was a something out of heaven -which should think it well to spend his whole time in adoring her -and making her more blessed than had ever yet been a woman upon the -earth. Then her first approach to a mundane feeling had been her -acknowledgment to herself that Isadore Hamel would do as a lover for -Lucy. Isadore Hamel was certainly very handsome,--was possessed of -infinite good gifts; but even he would by no means have come up to -her requirements for her own hero. That hero must have wings tinged -with azure, whereas Hamel had a not much more aetherealised than -ordinary coat and waistcoat. She knew that heroes with azure wings -were not existent save in the imagination, and, as she desired a real -lover for Lucy, Hamel would do. But for herself her imagination was -too valuable then to allow her to put her foot upon earth. Such as -she was, must not Augusta have been very stupid to have thought that -Ayala should become fond of her Mr. Traffick! - -Her cousin Tom had come to her, and had been to her as a Newfoundland -dog is when he jumps all over you just when he has come out of a -horsepond. She would have liked Tom had he kept his dog-like gambols -at a proper distance. But when he would cover her with muddy water -he was abominable. But this Augusta had not understood. With Mr. -Traffick there would be no dog-like gambols; and, as he was not harsh -to her, Ayala liked him. She had liked her uncle. Such men were, to -her thinking, more like dogs than lovers. She sang when Mr. Traffick -asked her, and made a picture for him, and went with him to the -Coliseum, and laughed at him about Supply and Demand. She was very -pretty, and perhaps Mr. Traffick did like to look at her. - -"I really think you were too free with Mr. Traffick last night," -Augusta said to her one morning. - -"Free! How free?" - -"You were--laughing at him." - -"Oh, he likes that," said Ayala. "All that time we were up at the top -of St. Peter's I was quizzing him about his speeches. He lets me say -just what I please." - -This was wormwood. In the first place there had been a word or two -between the lovers about that going up of St. Peter's, and Augusta -had refused to join them. She had wished Septimus to remain down with -her,--which would have been tantamount to preventing any of the party -from going up; but Septimus had persisted on ascending. Then Augusta -had been left for a long hour alone with her mother. Gertrude had no -doubt gone up, but Gertrude had lagged during the ascent. Ayala had -skipped up the interminable stairs and Mr. Traffick had trotted after -her with admiring breathless industry. This itself, with the thoughts -of the good time which Septimus might be having at the top, was very -bad. But now to be told that she, Ayala, should laugh at him; and -that he, Septimus, should like it! "I suppose he takes you to be a -child," said Augusta; "but if you are a child you ought to conduct -yourself." - -"I suppose he does perceive the difference," said Ayala. - -She had not in the least known what the words might convey,--had -probably meant nothing. But to Augusta it was apparent that Ayala -had declared that her lover, her Septimus, had preferred her extreme -youth to the more mature charms of his own true love,--or had, -perhaps, preferred Ayala's raillery to Augusta's serious demeanour. -"You are the most impertinent person I ever knew in my life," said -Augusta, rising from her chair and walking slowly out of the room. -Ayala stared after her, not above half comprehending the cause of the -anger. - -Then came the very serious affair of the ball. The Marchesa had asked -that her dear little friend Ayala Dormer might be allowed to come -over to a little dance which her own girls were going to have. Her -own girls were so fond of Ayala! There would be no trouble. There -was a carriage which would be going somewhere else, and she would be -fetched and taken home. Ayala at once declared that she intended to -go, and her Aunt Emmeline did not refuse her sanction. Augusta was -shocked, declaring that the little dance was to be one of the great -balls of the season, and pronouncing the whole to be a falsehood; but -the affair was arranged before she could stop it. - -But Mr. Traffick's affair in the matter came more within her range. -"Septimus," she said, "I would rather you would not go to that -woman's party." Septimus had been asked only on the day before the -party,--as soon, indeed, as his arrival had become known to the -Marchesa. - -"Why, my own one?" - -"She has not treated mamma well,--nor yet me." - -"Ayala is going." He had no right to call her Ayala. So Augusta -thought. - -"My cousin is behaving badly in the matter, and mamma ought not to -allow her to go. Who knows anything about the Marchesa Baldoni?" - -"Both he and she are of the very best families in Rome," said Mr. -Traffick, who knew everything about it. - -"At any rate they are behaving very badly to us, and I will take it -as a favour that you do not go. Asking Ayala, and then asking you, as -good as from the same house, is too marked. You ought not to go." - -Perhaps Mr. Traffick had on some former occasion felt some little -interference with his freedom of action. Perhaps he liked the -acquaintance of the Marchesa. Perhaps he liked Ayala Dormer. Be that -as it might, he would not yield. "Dear Augusta, it is right that I -should go there, if it be only for half-an-hour." This he said in a -tone of voice with which Augusta was already acquainted, which she -did not love, and which, when she heard it, would make her think of -her L120,000. When he had spoken he left her, and she began to think -of her L120,000. - -They both went, Ayala and Mr. Traffick,--and Mr. Traffick, instead -of staying half-an-hour, brought Ayala back at three o'clock in the -morning. Though Mr. Traffick was nearly as old as Uncle Tringle, yet -he could dance. Ayala had been astonished to find how well he could -dance, and thought that she might please her cousin Augusta by -praising the juvenility of her lover at luncheon the next day. She -had not appeared at breakfast, but had been full of the ball at -lunch. "Oh, dear, yes, I dare say there were two hundred people -there." - -"That is what she calls a little dance," said Augusta, with scorn. - -"I suppose that is the Italian way of talking about it," said Ayala. - -"Italian way! I hate Italian ways." - -"Mr. Traffick liked it very much. I'm sure he'll tell you so. I had -no idea he would care to dance." - -Augusta only shook herself and turned up her nose. Lady Tringle -thought it necessary to say something in defence of her daughter's -choice. "Why should not Mr. Traffick dance like any other gentleman?" - -"Oh, I don't know. I thought that a man who makes so many speeches -in Parliament would think of something else. I was very glad he did, -for he danced three times with me. He can waltz as lightly as--" As -though he were young, she was going to say, but then she stopped -herself. - -"He is the best dancer I ever danced with," said Augusta. - -"But you almost never do dance," said Ayala. - -"I suppose I may know about it as well as another," said Augusta, -angrily. - -The next day was the last of Mr. Traffick's sojourn in Rome, and on -that day he and Augusta so quarrelled that, for a certain number of -hours, it was almost supposed in the family that the match would be -broken off. On the afternoon of the day after the dance Mr. Traffick -was walking with Ayala on the Pincian, while Augusta was absolutely -remaining behind with her mother. For a quarter-of-an-hour,--the -whole day, as it seemed to Augusta,--there was a full two hundred -yards between them. It was not that the engaged girl could not bear -the severance, but that she could not endure the attention paid to -Ayala. On the next morning "she had it out," as some people say, with -her lover. "If I am to be treated in this way you had better tell me -so at once," she said. - -"I know no better way of treating you," said Mr. Traffick. - -"Dancing with that chit all night, turning her head, and then walking -with her all the next day! I will not put up with such conduct." - -Mr. Traffick valued L120,000 very highly, as do most men, and would -have done much to keep it; but he believed that the best way of -making sure of it would be by showing himself to be the master. "My -own one," he said, "you are really making an ass of yourself." - -"Very well! Then I will write to papa, and let him know that it must -be all over." - -For three hours there was terrible trouble in the apartments in the -Palazzo Ruperti, during which Mr. Traffick was enjoying himself by -walking up and down the Forum, and calculating how many Romans could -have congregated themselves in the space which is supposed to have -seen so much of the world's doings. During this time Augusta was -very frequently in hysterics; but, whether in hysterics or out of -them, she would not allow Ayala to come near her. She gave it to be -understood that Ayala had interfered fatally, foully, damnably, with -all her happiness. She demanded, from fit to fit, that telegrams -should be sent over to bring her father to Italy for her protection. -She would rave about Septimus, and then swear that, under no -consideration whatever, would she ever see him again. At the end -of three hours she was told that Septimus was in the drawing-room. -Lady Tringle had sent half-a-dozen messengers after him, and at last -he was found looking up at the Arch of Titus. "Bid him go," said -Augusta. "I never want to behold him again." But within two minutes -she was in his arms, and before dinner she was able to take a stroll -with him on the Pincian. - -He left, like a thriving lover, high in the good graces of his -beloved; but the anger which had fallen on Ayala had not been -removed. Then came a rumour that the Marchesa, who was half English, -had called Ayala Cinderella, and the name had added fuel to the fire -of Augusta's wrath. There was much said about it between Lady Tringle -and her daughter, the aunt really feeling that more blame was being -attributed to Ayala than she deserved. "Perhaps she gives herself -airs," said Lady Tringle, "but really it is no more." - -"She is a viper," said Augusta. - -Gertrude rather took Ayala's part, telling her mother, in private, -that the accusation about Mr. Traffick was absurd. "The truth is," -said Gertrude, "that Ayala thinks herself very clever and very -beautiful, and Augusta will not stand it." Gertrude acknowledged -that Ayala was upsetting and ungrateful. Poor Lady Tringle, in her -husband's absence, did not know what to do about her niece. - -Altogether, they were uncomfortable after Mr. Traffick went and -before Tom Tringle had come. On no consideration whatsoever would -Augusta speak to her cousin. She declared that Ayala was a viper, and -would give no other reason. In all such quarrelings the matter most -distressing is that the evil cannot be hidden. Everybody at Rome who -knew the Tringles, or who knew Ayala, was aware that Augusta Tringle -would not speak to her cousin. When Ayala was asked she would shake -her locks, and open her eyes, and declare that she knew nothing about -it. In truth she knew very little about it. She remembered that -passage-at-arms about the going upstairs at Glenbogie, but she could -hardly understand that for so small an affront, and one so distant, -Augusta would now refuse to speak to her. That Augusta had always -been angry with her, and since Mr. Traffick's arrival more angry than -ever, she had felt; but that Augusta was jealous in respect to her -lover had never yet at all come home to Ayala. That she should have -wanted to captivate Mr. Traffick,--she with her high ideas of some -transcendental, more than human, hero! - -But she had to put up with it, and to think of it. She had sense -enough to know that she was no more than a stranger in her aunt's -family, and that she must go if she made herself unpleasant to them. -She was aware that hitherto she had not succeeded with her residence -among them. Perhaps she might have to go. Some things she would -bear, and in them she would endeavour to amend her conduct. In other -matters she would hold her own, and go, if necessary. Though her -young imagination was still full of her unsubstantial hero,--though -she still had her castles in the air altogether incapable of -terrestrial foundation,--still there was a common sense about her -which told her that she must give and take. She would endeavour to -submit herself to her aunt. She would be kind,--as she had always -been kind,--to Gertrude. She would in all matters obey her uncle. Her -misfortune with the Newfoundland dog had almost dwindled out of her -mind. To Augusta she could not submit herself. But then Augusta, -as soon as the next session of Parliament should be over, would be -married out of the way. And, on her own part, she did think that her -aunt was inclined to take her part in the quarrel with Augusta. - -Thus matters were going on in Rome when there came up another and a -worse cause for trouble. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -TOM TRINGLE IN EARNEST. - - -Tom Tringle, though he had first appeared to his cousin Ayala as a -Newfoundland dog which might perhaps be pleasantly playful, and then, -as the same dog, very unpleasant because dripping with muddy water, -was nevertheless a young man with so much manly truth about him as to -be very much in love. He did not look like it; but then perhaps the -young men who do fall most absolutely into love do not look like it. -To Ayala her cousin Tom was as unloveable as Mr. Septimus Traffick. -She could like them both well enough while they would be kind to -her. But as to regarding cousin Tom as a lover,--the idea was so -preposterous to her that she could not imagine that any one else -should look upon it as real. But with Tom the idea had been real, -and was, moreover, permanent. The black locks which would be shaken -here and there, the bright glancing eyes which could be so joyous and -could be so indignant, the colour of her face which had nothing in it -of pink, which was brown rather, but over which the tell-tale blood -would rush with a quickness which was marvellous to him, the lithe -quick figure which had in it nothing of the weight of earth, the -little foot which in itself was a perfect joy, the step with all the -elasticity of a fawn,--these charms together had mastered him. Tom -was not romantic or poetic, but the romance and poetry of Ayala had -been divine to him. It is not always like to like in love. Titania -loved the weaver Bottom with the ass's head. Bluebeard, though a -bad husband, is supposed to have been fond of his last wife. The -Beauty has always been beloved by the Beast. To Ayala the thing -was monstrous;--but it was natural. Tom Tringle was determined to -have his way, and when he started for Rome was more intent upon his -love-making than all the glories of the Capitol and the Vatican. - -When he first made his appearance before Ayala's eyes he was bedecked -in a manner that was awful to her. Down at Glenbogie he had affected -a rough attire, as is the custom with young men of ample means when -fishing, shooting, or the like, is supposed to be the employment -then in hand. The roughness had been a little overdone, but it had -added nothing to his own uncouthness. In London he was apt to run a -little towards ornamental gilding, but in London his tastes had been -tempered by the ill-natured criticism of the world at large. He had -hardly dared at Queen's Gate to wear his biggest pins; but he had -taken upon himself to think that at Rome an Englishman might expose -himself with all his jewelry. "Oh, Tom, I never saw anything so -stunning," his sister Gertrude said to him. He had simply frowned -upon her, and had turned himself to Ayala, as though Ayala, being -an artist, would be able to appreciate something beautiful in art. -Ayala had looked at him and had marvelled, and had ventured to hope -that, with his Glenbogie dress, his Glenbogie manners and Glenbogie -propensities would be changed. - -At this time the family at Rome was very uncomfortable. Augusta would -not speak to her cousin, and had declared to her mother and sister -her determination never to speak to Ayala again. For a time Aunt -Emmeline had almost taken her niece's part, feeling that she might -best bring things back to a condition of peace in this manner. Ayala, -she had thought, might thus be decoyed into a state of submission. -Ayala, so instigated, had made her attempt. "What is the matter, -Augusta," she had said, "that you are determined to quarrel with me?" -Then had followed a little offer that bygones should be bygones. - -"I have quarrelled with you," said Augusta, "because you do not know -how to behave yourself." Then Ayala had flashed forth, and the little -attempt led to a worse condition than ever, and words were spoken -which even Aunt Emmeline had felt to be irrevocable, irremediable. - -"Only that you are going away I would not consent to live here," said -Ayala. Then Aunt Emmeline had asked her where she would go to live -should it please her to remove herself. Ayala had thought of this for -a moment, and then had burst into tears. "If I could not live I could -die. Anything would be better than to be treated as she treats me." -So the matters were when Tom came to Rome with all his jewelry. - -Lady Tringle had already told herself that, in choosing Ayala, she -had chosen wrong. Lucy, though not so attractive as Ayala, was -pretty, quiet, and ladylike. So she thought now. And as to Ayala's -attractions, they were not at all of a nature to be serviceable to -such a family as hers. To have her own girls outshone, to be made -to feel that the poor orphan was the one person most worthy of note -among them, to be subjected to the caprices of a pretty, proud, -ill-conditioned minx;--thus it was that Aunt Emmeline was taught -to regard her own charity and good-nature towards her niece. There -was, she said, no gratitude in Ayala. Had she said that there was no -humility she would have been more nearly right. She was entitled, she -thought, to expect both gratitude and humility, and she was sorry -that she had opened the Paradise of her opulent home to one so little -grateful and so little humble as Ayala. She saw now her want of -judgment in that she had not taken Lucy. - -Tom, who was not a fool, in spite of his trinkets, saw the state of -the case, and took Ayala's part at once. "I think you are quite -right," he said to her, on the first occasion on which he had -contrived to find himself alone with her after his arrival. - -"Right about what?" - -"In not giving up to Augusta. She was always like that when she was a -child, and now her head is turned about Traffick." - -"I shouldn't grudge her her lover if she would only let me alone." - -"I don't suppose she hurts you much?" - -"She sets my aunt against me, and that makes me unhappy. Of course I -am wretched." - -"Oh, Ayala, don't be wretched." - -"How is one to help it? I never said an ill-natured word to her, -and now I am so lonely among them!" In saying this,--in seeking to -get one word of sympathy from her cousin, she forgot for a moment -his disagreeable pretensions. But, no sooner had she spoken of her -loneliness, than she saw that ogle in his eye of which she had spoken -with so much ludicrous awe in her letters from Glenbogie to her -sister. - -"I shall always take your part," said he. - -"I don't want any taking of parts." - -"But I shall. I am not going to see you put upon. You are more to me, -Ayala, than any of them." Then he looked at her, whereupon she got up -and ran away. - -But she could not always run away, nor could she always refuse when -he asked her to go with him about the show-places of the city. To -avoid starting alone with him was within her power; but she found -herself compelled to join herself to Gertrude and her brother in -some of those little excursions which were taken for her benefit. At -this time there had come to be a direct quarrel between Lady Tringle -and the Marchesa, which, however, had arisen altogether on the part -of Augusta. Augusta had forced her mother to declare that she was -insulted, and then there was no more visiting between them. This had -been sad enough for Ayala, who had struck up an intimacy with the -Marchesa's daughters. But the Marchesa had explained to her that -there was no help for it. "It won't do for you to separate yourself -from your aunt," she had said. "Of course we shall be friends, and -at some future time you shall come and see us." So there had been a -division, and Ayala would have been quite alone had she declined the -proffered companionship of Gertrude. - -Within the walls and arches and upraised terraces of the Coliseum -they were joined one day by young Hamel, the sculptor, who had not, -as yet, gone back to London,--and had not, as yet, met Lucy in the -gardens at Kensington; and with him there had been one Frank Houston, -who had made acquaintance with Lady Tringle, and with the Tringles -generally, since they had been at Rome. Frank Houston was a young man -of family, with a taste for art, very good-looking, but not specially -well off in regard to income. He had heard of the good fortune of -Septimus Traffick in having prepared for himself a connection with so -wealthy a family as the Tringles, and had thought it possible that a -settlement in life might be comfortable for himself. What few soft -words he had hitherto been able to say to Gertrude had been taken -in good part, and when, therefore, they met among the walls of the -Coliseum, she had naturally straggled away to see some special wonder -which he had a special aptitude for showing. Hamel remained with -Ayala and Tom, talking of the old days at the bijou, till he found -himself obliged to leave them. Then Tom had his opportunity. - -"Ayala," he said, "all this must be altered." - -"What must be altered?" - -"If you only knew, Ayala, how much you are to me." - -"I wish you wouldn't, Tom. I don't want to be anything to anybody in -particular." - -"What I mean is, that I won't have them sit upon you. They treat -you as--as,--well, as though you had only half a right to be one of -them." - -"No more I have. I have no right at all." - -"But that's not the way I want it to be. If you were my wife--" - -"Tom, pray don't." - -"Why not? I'm in earnest. Why ain't I to speak as I think? Oh, Ayala, -if you knew how much I think of you." - -"But you shouldn't. You haven't got a right." - -"I have got a right." - -"But I don't want it, Tom, and I won't have it." He had carried her -away now to the end of the terrace, or ruined tier of seats, on which -they were walking, and had got her so hemmed into a corner that she -could not get away from him. She was afraid of him, lest he should -put out his hand to take hold of her,--lest something even more -might be attempted. And yet his manner was manly and sincere, and -had it not been for his pins and his chains she could not but have -acknowledged his goodness to her, much as she might have disliked his -person. "I want to get out," she said. "I won't stay here any more." -Mr. Traffick, on the top of St. Peter's, had been a much pleasanter -companion. - -"Don't you believe me when I tell you that I love you better than -anybody?" pleaded Tom. - -"No." - -"Not believe me? Oh, Ayala!" - -"I don't want to believe anything. I want to get out. If you go on, -I'll tell my aunt." - -Tell her aunt! There was a want of personal consideration to himself -in this way of receiving his addresses which almost angered him. Tom -Tringle was not in the least afraid of his mother,--was not even -afraid of his father as long as he was fairly regular at the office -in Lombard Street. He was quite determined to please himself in -marriage, and was disposed to think that his father and mother would -like him to be settled. Money was no object. There was, to his -thinking, no good reason why he should not marry his cousin. For her -the match was so excellent that he hardly expected she would reject -him when she could be made to understand that he was really in -earnest. "You may tell all the world," he said proudly. "All I want -is that you should love me." - -"But I don't. There are Gertrude and Mr. Houston, and I want to go to -them." - -"Say one nice word to me, Ayala." - -"I don't know how to say a nice word. Can't you be made to understand -that I don't like it?" - -"Ayala." - -"Why don't you let me go away?" - -"Ayala,--give me--one--kiss." Then Ayala did go away, escaping by -some kid-like manoeuvre among the ruins, and running quickly, while -he followed her, joined herself to the other pair of lovers, who -probably were less in want of her society than she of theirs. "Ayala, -I am quite in earnest," said Tom, as they were walking home, "and I -mean to go on with it." - -Ayala thought that there was nothing for it but to tell her aunt. -That there would be some absurdity in such a proceeding she did -feel,--that she would be acting as though her cousin were a naughty -boy who was merely teasing her. But she felt also the peculiar danger -of her own position. Her aunt must be made to understand that she, -Ayala, was innocent in the matter. It would be terrible to her to -be suspected even for a moment of a desire to inveigle the heir. -That Augusta would bring such an accusation against her she thought -probable. Augusta had said as much even at Glenbogie. She must -therefore be on the alert, and let it be understood at once -that she was not leagued with her cousin Tom. There would be an -absurdity;--but that would be better than suspicion. - -She thought about it all that afternoon, and in the evening she came -to a resolution. She would write a letter to her cousin and persuade -him if possible to desist. If he should again annoy her after that -she would appeal to her aunt. Then she wrote and sent her letter, -which was as follows;-- - - - DEAR TOM, - - You don't know how unhappy you made me at the Coliseum - to-day. I don't think you ought to turn against me when - you know what I have to bear. It is turning against me - to talk as you did. Of course it means nothing; but you - shouldn't do it. It _never never_ could mean anything. I - hope you will be good-natured and kind to me, and then I - shall be so much obliged to you. If you won't say anything - more like that I will forget it altogether. - - Your affectionate cousin, - - AYALA. - - -The letter ought to have convinced him. Those two underscored nevers -should have eradicated from his mind the feeling which had been -previously produced by the assertion that he had "meant nothing." -But he was so assured in his own meanings that he paid no attention -whatever to the nevers. The letter was a delight to him because it -gave him the opportunity of a rejoinder,--and he wrote his rejoinder -on a scented sheet of note-paper and copied it twice;-- - - - DEAREST AYALA, - - Why do you say that it means nothing? It means everything. - No man was ever more in earnest in speaking to a lady than - I am with you. Why should I not be in earnest when I am so - deeply in love? From the first moment in which I saw you - down at Glenbogie I knew how it was going to be with me. - - As for my mother I don't think she would say a word. Why - should she? But I am not the sort of man to be talked out - of my intentions in such a matter as this. I have set my - heart upon having you and nothing will ever turn me off. - - Dearest Ayala, let me have one look to say that you will - love me, and I shall be the happiest man in England. I - think you so beautiful! I do, indeed. The governor has - always said that if I would settle down and marry there - should be lots of money. What could I do better with it - than make my darling look as grand as the best of them. - - Yours, always meaning it, - Most affectionately, - - T. TRINGLE. - - -It almost touched her,--not in the way of love but of gratitude. He -was still to her like Bottom with the ass's head, or the Newfoundland -dog gambolling out of the water. There was the heavy face, and there -were the big chains and the odious rings, and the great hands and -the clumsy feet,--making together a creature whom it was impossible -even to think of with love. She shuddered as she remembered the -proposition which had been made to her in the Coliseum. - -And now by writing to him she had brought down upon herself this -absolute love-letter. She had thought that by appealing to him as -"Dear Tom," and by signing herself his affectionate cousin, she might -have prevailed. If he could only be made to understand that it could -never mean anything! But now, on the other hand, she had begun to -understand that it did _mean_ a great deal. He had sent to her a -regular offer of marriage! The magnitude of the thing struck her at -last. The heir of all the wealth of her mighty uncle wanted to make -her his wife! - -But it was to her exactly as though the heir had come to her wearing -an ass's head on his shoulders. Love him! Marry him!--or even touch -him? Oh, no. They might ill-use her; they might scold her; they might -turn her out of the house; but no consideration would induce her to -think of Tom Tringle as a lover. - -And yet he was in earnest, and honest, and good. And some -answer,--some further communication must be made to him. She -did recognise some nobility in him, though personally he was so -distasteful to her. Now his appeal to her had taken the guise of an -absolute offer of marriage he was entitled to a discreet and civil -answer. Romantic, dreamy, poetic, childish as she was, she knew as -much as that. "Go away, Tom, you fool, you," would no longer do for -the occasion. As she thought of it all that night it was borne in -upon her more strongly than ever that her only protection would be in -telling her aunt, and in getting her aunt to make Tom understand that -there must be no more of it. Early on the following morning she found -herself in her aunt's bedroom. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE LOUT. - - -"Aunt Emmeline, I want you to read this letter." So it was that Ayala -commenced the interview. At this moment Ayala was not on much better -terms with her aunt than she was with her cousin Augusta. Ayala was -a trouble to her,--Lady Tringle,--who was altogether perplexed with -the feeling that she had burdened herself with an inmate in her house -who was distasteful to her and of whom she could not rid herself. -Ayala had turned out on her hands something altogether different -from the girl she had intended to cherish and patronise. Ayala -was independent; superior rather than inferior to her own girls; -more thought of by others; apparently without any touch of that -subservience which should have been produced in her by her position. -Ayala seemed to demand as much as though she were a daughter of the -house, and at the same time to carry herself as though she were more -gifted than the daughters of the house. She was less obedient even -than a daughter. All this Aunt Emmeline could not endure with a -placid bosom. She was herself kind of heart. She acknowledged her -duty to her dead sister. She wished to protect and foster the orphan. -She did not even yet wish to punish Ayala by utter desertion. She -would protect her in opposition to Augusta's more declared malignity; -but she did wish to be rid of Ayala, if she only knew how. - -She took her son's letter and read it, and as a matter of course -misunderstood the position. At Glenbogie something had been whispered -to her about Tom and Ayala, but she had not believed much in it. -Ayala was a child, and Tom was to her not much more than a boy. But -now here was a genuine love-letter,--a letter in which her son had -made a distinct proposition to marry the orphan. She did not stop to -consider why Ayala had brought the letter to her, but entertained at -once an idea that the two young people were going to vex her very -soul by a lamentable love affair. How imprudent she had been to let -the two young people be together in Rome, seeing that the matter had -been whispered to her at Glenbogie! "How long has this been going -on?" she asked, severely. - -"He used to tease me at Glenbogie, and now he is doing it again," -said Ayala. - -"There must certainly be put an end to it. You must go away." - -Ayala knew at once that her aunt was angry with her, and was -indignant at the injustice. "Of course there must be put an end to -it, Aunt Emmeline. He has no right to annoy me when I tell him not." - -"I suppose you have encouraged him." - -This was too cruel to be borne! Encouraged him! Ayala's anger was -caused not so much by a feeling that her aunt had misappreciated the -cause of her coming as that it should have been thought possible that -she should have "encouraged" such a lover. It was the outrage to her -taste rather than to her conduct which afflicted her. "He is a lout," -she said; "a stupid lout!" thus casting her scorn upon the mother as -well as on the son, and, indeed, upon the whole family. "I have not -encouraged him. It is untrue." - -"Ayala, you are very impertinent." - -"And you are very unjust. Because I want to put a stop to it I come -to you, and you tell me that I encourage him. You are worse than -Augusta." - -This was too much for the good nature even of Aunt Emmeline. Whatever -may have been the truth as to the love affair, however innocent Ayala -may have been in that matter, or however guilty Tom, such words -from a niece to her aunt,--from a dependent to her superior,--were -unpardonable. The extreme youthfulness of the girl, a peculiar look -of childhood which she still had with her, made the feeling so much -the stronger. "You are worse than Augusta!" - -And this was said to her who was specially conscious of her -endeavours to mitigate Augusta's just anger. She bridled up, and -tried to look big and knit her brows. At that moment she could not -think what must be the end of it, but she felt that Ayala must be -crushed. "How dare you speak to me like that, 'Miss'?" she said. - -"So you are. It is very cruel. Tom will go on saying all this -nonsense to me, and when I come to you you say I encourage him! I -never encouraged him. I despise him too much. I did not think my own -aunt could have told me that I encouraged any man. No, I didn't. You -drive me to it, so that I have got to be impertinent." - -"You had better go to your room," said the aunt. Then Ayala, lifting -her head as high as she knew how, walked towards the door. "You had -better leave that letter with me." Ayala considered the matter for -a moment, and then handed the letter a second time to her aunt. It -could be nothing to her who saw the letter. She did not want it. -Having thus given it up she stalked off in silent disdain and went to -her chamber. - -Aunt Emmeline, when she was left alone, felt herself to be enveloped -in a cloud of doubt. The desirableness of Tom as a husband first -forced itself upon her attention, and the undesirableness of Ayala as -a wife for Tom. She was perplexed at her own folly in not having seen -that danger of this kind would arise when she first proposed to take -Ayala into the house. Aunts and uncles do not like the marriage of -cousins, and the parents of rich children do not, as a rule, approve -of marriages with those which are poor. Although Ayala had been so -violent, Lady Tringle could not rid herself of the idea that her -darling boy was going to throw himself away. Then her cheeks became -red with anger as she remembered that her Tom had been called a -lout,--a stupid lout. There was an ingratitude in the use of such -language which was not alleviated even by the remembrance that it -tended against that matrimonial danger of which she was so much -afraid. Ayala was behaving very badly. She ought not to have coaxed -Tom to be her lover, and she certainly ought not to have called Tom a -lout. And then Ayala had told her aunt that she was unjust and worse -than Augusta! It was out of the question that such a state of things -should be endured. Ayala must be made to go away. - -Before the day was over Lady Tringle spoke to her son, and was -astonished to find that the "lout" was quite in earnest,--so much -in earnest that he declared his purpose of marrying his cousin in -opposition to his father and mother, in opposition even to Ayala -herself. He was so much in earnest that he would not be roused to -wrath even when he was told that Ayala had called him a lout. And -then grew upon the mother a feeling that the young man had never been -so little loutish before. For there had been, even in her maternal -bosom, a feeling that Tom was open to the criticism expressed on him. -Tom had been a hobble-de-hoy, one of those overgrown lads who come -late to their manhood, and who are regarded by young ladies as louts. -Though he had spent his money only too freely when away, his sisters -had sometimes said that he could not say "bo to a goose" at home. But -now,--now Tom was quite an altered young man. When his own letter was -shown to him he simply said that he meant to stick to it. When it was -represented to him that his cousin would be quite an unfit wife for -him he assured his mother that his own opinion on that matter was -very different. When his father's anger was threatened he declared -that his father would have no right to be angry with him if he -married a lady. At the word "lout" he simply smiled. "She'll come to -think different from that before she's done with me," he said, with a -smile. Even the mother could not but perceive that the young man had -been much improved by his love. - -But what was she to do? Two or three days went on, during which there -was no reconciliation between her and Ayala. Between Augusta and -Ayala no word was spoken. Messages were taken to her by Gertrude, -the object of which was to induce her to ask her aunt's pardon. But -Ayala was of opinion that her aunt ought to ask her pardon, and could -not be beaten from it. "Why did she say that I encouraged him?" she -demanded indignantly of Gertrude. "I don't think she did encourage -him," said Gertrude to her mother. This might possibly be true, but -not the less had she misbehaved. And though she might not yet have -encouraged her lover it was only too probable that she might do so -when she found that her lover was quite in earnest. - -Lady Tringle was much harassed. And then there came an additional -trouble. Gertrude informed her mother that she had engaged herself -to Mr. Francis Houston, and that Mr. Houston was going to write to -her father with the object of proposing himself as a son-in-law. Mr. -Houston came also to herself, and told her, in the most natural tone -in the world, that he intended to marry her daughter. She had not -known what to say. It was Sir Thomas who managed all matters of -money. She had an idea that Mr. Houston was very poor. But then so -also had been Mr. Traffick, who had been received into the family -with open arms. But then Mr. Traffick had a career, whereas Mr. -Houston was lamentably idle. She could only refer Mr. Houston to Sir -Thomas, and beg him not to come among them any more till Sir Thomas -had decided. Upon this Gertrude also got angry, and shut herself up -in her room. The apartments Ruperti were, therefore, upon the whole, -an uncomfortable home to them. - -Letters upon letters were written to Sir Thomas, and letters upon -letters came. The first letter had been about Ayala. He had been -much more tender towards Ayala than her aunt had been. He talked -of calf-love, and said that Tom was a fool; but he had not at once -thought it necessary to give imperative orders for Tom's return. As -to Ayala's impudence, he evidently regarded it as nothing. It was not -till Aunt Emmeline had spoken out in her third letter that he seemed -to recognise the possibility of getting rid of Ayala altogether. And -this he did in answer to a suggestion which had been made to him. "If -she likes to change with her sister Lucy, and you like it, I shall -not object," said Sir Thomas. Then there came an order to Tom that -he should return to Lombard Street at once; but this order had been -rendered abortive by the sudden return of the whole family. Sir -Thomas, in his first letter as to Gertrude, had declared that the -Houston marriage would not do at all. Then, when he was told that -Gertrude and Mr. Houston had certainly met each other more than once -since an order had been given for their separation, he desired the -whole family to come back at once to Merle Park. - -The proposition as to Lucy had arisen in this wise. Tom being in the -same house with Ayala, of course had her very much at advantage, and -would carry on his suit in spite of any abuse which she might lavish -upon him. It was quite in vain that she called him lout. "You'll -think very different from that some of these days, Ayala," he said, -more seriously. - -"No, I shan't; I shall think always the same." - -"When you know how much I love you, you'll change." - -"I don't want you to love me," she said; "and if you were anything -that is good you wouldn't go on after I have told you so often. It is -not manly of you. You have brought me to all manner of trouble. It is -your fault, but they make me suffer." - -After that Ayala again went to her aunt, and on this occasion the -family misfortune was discussed in more seemly language. Ayala was -still indignant, but she said nothing insolent. Aunt Emmeline was -still averse to her niece, but she abstained from crimination. They -knew each as enemies, but recognised the wisdom of keeping the peace. -"As for that, Aunt Emmeline," Ayala said, "you may be quite sure that -I shall never encourage him. I shall never like him well enough." - -"Very well. Then we need say no more about that, my dear. Of course, -it must be unpleasant to us all, being in the same house together." - -"It is very unpleasant to me, when he will go on bothering me like -that. It makes me wish that I were anywhere else." - -Then Aunt Emmeline began to think about it very seriously. It was -very unpleasant. Ayala had made herself disagreeable to all the -ladies of the family, and only too agreeable to the young gentleman. -Nor did the manifest favour of Sir Thomas do much towards raising -Ayala in Lady Tringle's estimation. Sir Thomas had only laughed when -Augusta had been requested to go upstairs for the scrap-book. Sir -Thomas had been profuse with his presents even when Ayala had been -most persistent in her misbehaviour. And then all that affair of the -Marchesa, and even Mr. Traffick's infatuation! If Ayala wished that -she were somewhere else would it not be well to indulge her wish! -Aunt Emmeline certainly wished it. "If you think so, perhaps some -arrangement can be made," said Aunt Emmeline, very slowly. - -"What arrangement?" - -"You must not suppose that I wish to turn you out?" - -"But what arrangement?" - -"You see, Ayala, that unfortunately we have not all of us hit it off -nicely; have we?" - -"Not at all, Aunt Emmeline. Augusta is always angry with me. And -you,--you think that I have encouraged Tom." - -"I am saying nothing about that, Ayala." - -"But what arrangement is it, Aunt Emmeline?" The matter was one of -fearful import to Ayala. She was prudent enough to understand that -well. The arrangement must be one by which she would be banished from -all the wealth of the Tringles. Her coming among them had not been a -success. She had already made them tired of her by her petulance and -independence. Young as she was she could see that, and comprehend the -material injury she had done herself by her folly. She had been very -wrong in telling Augusta to go upstairs. She had been wrong in the -triumph of her exclusive visits to the Marchesa. She had been wrong -in walking away with Mr. Traffick on the Pincian. She could see that. -She had not been wrong in regard to Tom,--except in calling him a -lout; but whether wrong or right she had been most unfortunate. But -the thing had been done, and she must go. - -At this moment the wealth of the Tringles seemed to be more to her -than it had ever been before,--and her own poverty and destitution -seemed to be more absolute. When the word "arrangement" was whispered -to her there came upon her a clear idea of all that which she was -to lose. She was to be banished from Merle Park, from Queen's Gate, -and from Glenbogie. For her there were to be no more carriages, and -horses, and pretty trinkets;--none of that abandon of the luxury -of money among which the Tringles lived. But she had done it for -herself, and she would not say a word in opposition to the fate which -was before her. "What arrangement, aunt?" she said again, in a voice -which was intended to welcome any arrangement that might be made. - -Then her aunt spoke very softly. "Of course, dear Ayala, we do not -wish to do less than we at first intended. But as you are not happy -here--" Then she paused, almost ashamed of herself. - -"I am not happy here," said Ayala, boldly. - -"How would it be if you were to change,--with Lucy?" - -The idea which had been present to Lady Tringle for some weeks past -had never struck Ayala. The moment she heard it she felt that she -was more than ever bound to assent. If the home from which she was -to be banished was good, then would that good fall upon Lucy. Lucy -would have the carriages and the horses and the trinkets, Lucy, who -certainly was not happy at Kingsbury Crescent. "I should be very -glad, indeed," said Ayala. - -Her voice was so brave and decided that, in itself, it gave fresh -offence to her aunt. Was there to be no regret after so much -generosity? But she misunderstood the girl altogether. As the words -were coming from her lips,--"I should be very glad, indeed,"--Ayala's -heart was sinking with tenderness as she remembered how much after -all had been done for her. But as they wished her to go there should -be not a word, not a sign of unwillingness on her part. - -"Then perhaps it can be arranged," said Lady Tringle. - -"I don't know what Uncle Dosett may say. Perhaps they are very fond -of Lucy now." - -"They wouldn't wish to stand in her way, I should think." - -"At any rate, I won't. If you, and my uncles, and Aunt Margaret, will -consent, I will go whenever you choose. Of course I must do just as -I'm told." - -Aunt Emmeline made a faint demur to this; but still the matter was -held to be arranged. Letters were written to Sir Thomas, and letters -came, and at last even Sir Thomas had assented. He suggested, in -the first place, that all the facts which would follow the exchange -should be explained to Ayala; but he was obliged after a while to -acknowledge that this would be inexpedient. The girl was willing; and -knew no doubt that she was to give up the great wealth of her present -home. But she had proved herself to be an unfit participator, and it -was better that she should go. - -Then the departure of them all from Rome was hurried on by the -indiscretion of Gertrude. Gertrude declared that she had a right to -her lover. As to his having no income, what matter for that. Everyone -knew that Septimus Traffick had no income. Papa had income enough for -them all. Mr. Houston was a gentleman. Till this moment no one had -known of how strong a will of her own Gertrude was possessed. When -Gertrude declared that she would not consent to be separated from Mr. -Houston then they were all hurried home. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE EXCHANGE. - - -Such was the state of things when Mr. Dosett brought the three -letters home with him to Kingsbury Crescent, having been so much -disturbed by the contents of the two which were addressed to himself -as to have found himself compelled to leave his office two hours -before the proper time. The three letters were handed together by her -uncle to Lucy, and she, seeing the importance of the occasion, read -the two open ones before she broke the envelope of her own. That from -Sir Thomas came first, and was as follows;-- - - - Lombard Street, January, 187--. - - MY DEAR DOSETT, - - I have had a correspondence with the ladies at Rome which - has been painful in its nature, but which I had better - perhaps communicate to you at once. Ayala has not got on - as well with Lady Tringle and the girls as might have been - wished, and they all think it will be better that she and - Lucy should change places. I chiefly write to give my - assent. Your sister will no doubt write to you. I may as - well mention to you, should you consent to take charge of - Ayala, that I have made some provision for her in my will, - and that I shall not change it. I have to add on my own - account that I have no complaint of my own to make against - Ayala. - - Yours sincerely, - - T. TRINGLE. - - -Lucy, when she had read this, proceeded at once to the letter from -her aunt. The matter to her was one of terrible importance, but the -importance was quite as great to Ayala. She had been allowed to go -up alone into her own room. The letters were of such a nature that -she could hardly have read them calmly in the presence of her Aunt -Dosett. It was thus that her Aunt Emmeline had written;-- - - - Palazzo Ruperti, Rome, Thursday. - - MY DEAR REGINALD, - - I am sure you will be sorry to hear that we are in great - trouble here. This has become so bad that we are obliged - to apply to you to help us. Now you must understand that - I do not mean to say a word against dear Ayala;--only she - does not suit. It will occur sometimes that people who - are most attached to each other do not suit. So it has - been with dear Ayala. She is not happy with us. She has - not perhaps accommodated herself to her cousins quite as - carefully as she might have done. She is fully as sensible - of this as I am, and is, herself, persuaded that there had - better be a change. - - Now, my dear Reginald, I am quite aware that when poor - Egbert died it was I who chose Ayala, and that you took - Lucy partly in compliance with my wishes. Now I write to - suggest that there should be a change. I am sure you will - give me credit for a desire to do the best I can for both - the poor dear girls. I did think that this might be best - done by letting Ayala come to us. I now think that Lucy - would do better with her cousins, and that Ayala would be - more attractive without the young people around her. - - When I see you I will tell you everything. There has been - no great fault. She has spoken a word or two to me which - had been better unsaid, but I am well convinced that it - has come from hot temper and not from a bad heart. Perhaps - I had better tell you the truth. Tom has admired her. She - has behaved very well; but she could not bear to be spoken - to, and so there have been unpleasantnesses. And the girls - certainly have not got on well together. Sir Thomas quite - agrees with me that if you will consent there had better - be a change. - - I will not write to dear Lucy herself because you and - Margaret can explain it all so much better,--if you will - consent to our plan. Ayala also will write to her sister. - But pray tell her from me that I will love her very dearly - if she will come to me. And indeed I have loved Ayala - almost as though she were my own, only we have not been - quite able to hit it off together. - - Of course neither has Sir Thomas or have I any idea of - escaping from a responsibility. I should be quite unhappy - if I did not have one of poor dear Egbert's girls with me. - Only I do think that Lucy would be the best for us; and - Ayala thinks so too. I should be quite unhappy if I were - doing this in opposition to Ayala. - - We shall be in England almost as soon as this letter, and - I should be so glad if this could be decided at once. If - a thing like this is to be done it is so much better for - all parties that it should be done quickly. Pray give my - best love to Margaret, and tell her that Ayala shall bring - everything with her that she wants. - - Your most affectionate sister, - - EMMELINE TRINGLE. - - -The letter, though it was much longer than her uncle's, going into -details, such as that of Tom's unfortunate passion for his cousin, -had less effect upon Lucy, as it did not speak with so much authority -as that from Sir Thomas. What Sir Thomas said would surely be done; -whereas Aunt Emmeline was only a woman, and her letter, unsupported, -might not have carried conviction. But, if Sir Thomas wished it, -surely it must be done. Then, at last, came Ayala's letter;-- - - - Rome, Thursday. - - DEAREST, DEAREST LUCY, - - Oh, I have such things to write to you! Aunt Emmeline has - told it all to Uncle Reginald. You are to come and be the - princess, and I am to go and be the milkmaid at home. I am - quite content that it should be so because I know that it - will be the best. You ought to be a princess and I ought - to be a milkmaid. - - It has been coming almost ever since the first day that I - came among them,--since I told Augusta to go upstairs for - the scrap-book. I felt from the very moment in which the - words were uttered that I had gone and done for myself. - But I am not a bit sorry, as you will come in my place. - Augusta will very soon be gone now, and Aunt Emmeline - is not bad at all if you will only not contradict her. - I always contradicted her, and I know that I have been a - fool. But I am not a bit sorry, as you are to come instead - of me. - - But it is not only about Augusta and Aunt Emmeline. There - has been that oaf Tom. Poor Tom! I do believe that he is - the most good-natured fellow alive. And if he had not so - many chains I should not dislike him so very much. But he - will go on saying horrible things to me. And then he wrote - me a letter! Oh dear! I took the letter to Aunt Emmeline, - and that made the quarrel. She said that I had--encouraged - him! Oh, Lucy, if you will think of that! I was so angry - that I said ever so much to her,--till she sent me out of - the room. She had no business to say that I encouraged - him. It was shameful! But she has never forgiven me, - because I scolded her. So they have decided among them - that I am to be sent away, and that you are to come in my - place. - - My own darling Lucy, it will be ever so much better. I - know that you are not happy in Kingsbury Crescent, and - that I shall bear it very much better. I can sit still and - mend sheets. - - -Poor Ayala, how little she knew herself! - - - And you will make a beautiful grand lady, quiescent and - dignified as a grand lady ought to be. At any rate it - would be impossible that I should remain here. Tom is bad - enough, but to be told that I encourage him is more than I - can bear. - - I shall see you very soon, but I cannot help writing and - telling it to you all. Give my love to Aunt Dosett. If she - will consent to receive me I will endeavour to be good to - her. In the meantime good-bye. - - Your most affectionate sister, - - AYALA. - - -When Lucy had completed the reading of the letters she sat for a -considerable time wrapped in thought. There was, in truth, very much -that required thinking. It was proposed that the whole tenour of -her life should be changed, and changed in a direction which would -certainly suit her taste. She had acknowledged to herself that she -had hated the comparative poverty of her Uncle Dosett's life, hating -herself in that she was compelled to make such acknowledgment. But -there had been more than the poverty which had been distasteful to -her,--a something which she had been able to tell herself that she -might be justified in hating without shame. There had been to her an -absence of intellectual charm in the habits and manners of Kingsbury -Crescent which she had regarded as unfortunate and depressing. There -had been no thought of art delights. No one read poetry. No one heard -music. No one looked at pictures. A sheet to be darned was the one -thing of greatest importance. The due development of a leg of mutton, -the stretching of a pound of butter, the best way of repressing the -washerwoman's bills,--these had been the matters of interest. And -they had not been made the less irritating to her by her aunt's -extreme goodness in the matter. The leg of mutton was to be developed -in the absence of her uncle,--if possible without his knowledge. He -was to have his run of clean linen. Lucy did not grudge him anything, -but was sickened by that partnership in economy which was established -between her and her aunt. Undoubtedly from time to time she had -thought of the luxuries which had been thrown in Ayala's way. There -had been a regret,--not that Ayala should have them but that she -should have missed them. Money she declared that she despised;--but -the easy luxury of the bijou was sweet to her memory. - -Now it was suggested to her suddenly that she was to exchange the -poverty for the luxury, and to return to a mode of life in which -her mind might be devoted to things of beauty. The very scenery of -Glenbogie,--what a charm it would have for her! Judging from her -uncle's manner, as well as she could during that moment in which he -handed to her the letter, she imagined that he intended to make no -great objection. Her aunt disliked her. She was sure that her aunt -disliked her in spite of the partnership. Only that there was one -other view of the case--how happy might the transfer be. Her uncle -was always gentle to her, but there could hardly as yet have grown up -any strong affection for her. To him she was grateful, but she could -not tell herself that to part from him would be a pang. There was, -however, another view of the case. - -Ayala! How would it be with Ayala! Would Ayala like the partnership -and the economies? Would Ayala be cheerful as she sat opposite to -her aunt for four hours at a time! Ayala had said that she could sit -still and mend sheets, but was it not manifest enough that Ayala knew -nothing of the life of which she was speaking. And would she, Lucy, -be able to enjoy the glories of Glenbogie while she thought that -Ayala was eating out her heart in the sad companionship of Kingsbury -Crescent? For above an hour she sat and thought; but of one aspect -which the affair bore she did not think. She did not reflect that she -and Ayala were in the hands of Fate, and that they must both do as -their elders should require of them. - -At last there came a knock at the door, and her aunt entered. She -would sooner that it should have been her uncle: but there was no -choice but that the matter should be now discussed with the woman -whom she did not love,--this matter that was so dreadful to herself -in all its bearings, and so dreadful to one for whom she would -willingly sacrifice herself if it were possible! She did not know -what she could say to create sympathy with Aunt Dosett. "Lucy," said -Aunt Dosett, "this is a very serious proposal." - -"Very serious," said Lucy, sternly. - -"I have not read the letters, but your uncle has told me about it." -Then Lucy handed her the two letters, keeping that from Ayala to -herself, and she sat perfectly still while her aunt read them both -slowly. "Your Aunt Emmeline is certainly in earnest," said Mrs. -Dosett. - -"Aunt Emmeline is very good-natured, and perhaps she will change her -mind if we tell her that we wish it." - -"But Sir Thomas has agreed to it." - -"I am sure my uncle will give way if Aunt Emmeline will ask him. -He says he has no complaint to make against Ayala. I think it is -Augusta, and Augusta will be married, and will go away very soon." - -Then there came a change, a visible change, over the countenance of -Aunt Dosett, and a softening of the voice,--so that she looked and -spoke as Lucy had not seen or heard her before. There are people -apparently so hard, so ungenial, so unsympathetic, that they who only -half know them expect no trait of tenderness, think that features -so little alluring cannot be compatible with softness. Lucy had -acknowledged her Aunt Dosett to be good, but believed her to be -incapable of being touched. But a word or two had now conquered -her. The girl did not want to leave her,--did not seize the first -opportunity of running from her poverty to the splendour of the -Tringles! "But, Lucy," she said, and came and placed herself nearer -to Lucy on the bed. - -"Ayala--," said Lucy, sobbing. - -"I will be kind to her,--perhaps kinder than I have been to you." - -"You have been kind, and I have been ungrateful. I know it. But I -will do better now, Aunt Dosett. I will stay, if you will have me." - -"They are rich and powerful, and you will have to do as they direct." - -"No! Who are they that I should be made to come and go at their -bidding? They cannot make me leave you." - -"But they can rid themselves of Ayala. You see what your uncle says -about money for Ayala." - -"I hate money." - -"Money is a thing which none of us can afford to hate. Do you think -it will not be much to your Uncle Reginald to know that you are both -provided for? Already he is wretched because there will be nothing to -come to you. If you go to your Aunt Emmeline, Sir Thomas will do for -you as he has done for Ayala. Dear Lucy, it is not that I want to -send you away." Then for the first time Lucy put her arm round her -aunt's neck. "But it had better be as is proposed, if your aunt still -wishes it, when she comes home. I and your Uncle Reginald would not -do right were we to allow you to throw away the prospects that are -offered you. It is natural that Lady Tringle should be anxious about -her son." - -"She need not, in the least," said Lucy, indignantly. - -"But you see what they say." - -"It is his fault, not hers. Why should she be punished?" - -"Because he is Fortune's favourite, and she is not. It is no good -kicking against the pricks, my dear. He is his father's son and heir, -and everything must give way to him." - -"But Ayala does not want him. Ayala despises him. It is too hard that -she is to lose everything because a young man like that will go on -making himself disagreeable. They have no right to do it after having -accustomed Ayala to such a home. Don't you feel that, Aunt Dosett?" - -"I do feel it." - -"However it might have been arranged at first, it ought to remain -now. Even though Ayala and I are only girls, we ought not to be -changed about as though we were horses. If she had done anything -wrong,--but Uncle Tom says that she has done nothing wrong." - -"I suppose she has spoken to her aunt disrespectfully." - -"Because her aunt told her that she had encouraged this man. What -would you have a girl say when she is falsely accused like that? -Would you say it to me merely because some horrid man would come and -speak to me?" Then there came a slight pang of conscience as she -remembered Isadore Hamel in Kensington Gardens. If the men were not -thought to be horrid, then perhaps the speaking might be a sin worthy -of most severe accusation. - -There was nothing more said about it that night, nor till the -following afternoon, when Mr. Dosett returned home at the usual -hour from his office. Then Lucy was closeted with him for a -quarter-of-an-hour in the drawing-room. He had been into the City and -seen Sir Thomas. Sir Thomas had been of opinion that it would be much -better that Lady Tringle's wishes should be obeyed. It was quite true -that he himself had no complaint to make against Ayala, but he did -think that Ayala had been pert; and, though it might be true that -Ayala had not encouraged Tom, there was no knowing what might grow -out of such a propensity on Tom's part. And then it could not be -pleasant to Lady Tringle or to himself that their son should be -banished out of their house. When something was hinted as to the -injustice of this, Sir Thomas endeavoured to put all that right by -declaring that, if Lady Tringle's wishes could be attended to in -this matter, provision would be made for the two girls. He certainly -would not strike Ayala's name out of his will, and as certainly would -not take Lucy under his wing as his own child without making some -provision for her. Looking at the matter in this light he did not -think that Mr. Dosett would be justified in robbing Lucy of the -advantages which were offered to her. With this view Mr. Dosett found -himself compelled to agree, and with these arguments he declared to -Lucy that it was her duty to submit herself to the proposed exchange. - -Early in February all the Tringle family were in Queen's Gate, and -Lucy on her first visit to the house found that everyone, including -Ayala, looked upon the thing as settled. Ayala, who under these -circumstances was living on affectionate terms with all the Tringles, -except Tom, was quite radiant. "I suppose I had better go to-morrow, -aunt?" she said, as though it were a matter of most trivial -consequence. - -"In a day or two, Ayala, it will be better." - -"It shall be Monday, then. You must come over here in a cab, Lucy." - -"The carriage shall be sent, my dear." - -"But then it must go back with me, Aunt Emmeline." - -"It shall, my dear." - -"And the horses must be put up, because Lucy and I must change all -our things in the drawers." Lucy at the time was sitting in the -drawing-room, and Augusta, with most affectionate confidence, was -singing to her all the praises of Mr. Traffick. In this way it was -settled, and the change, so greatly affecting the fortunes of our two -sisters, was arranged. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -AYALA AND HER AUNT MARGARET. - - -Till the last moment for going Ayala seemed to be childish, -triumphant, and indifferent. But, till that last moment, she was -never alone with Lucy. It was the presence of her aunt and cousins -which sustained her in her hardihood. Tom was never there,--or -so rarely as not to affect her greatly. In London he had his own -lodgings, and was not encouraged to appear frequently till Ayala -should have gone. But Aunt Emmeline and Gertrude were perseveringly -gracious, and even Augusta had somewhat relaxed from her wrath. With -them Ayala was always good-humoured, but always brave. She affected -to rejoice at the change which was to be made. She spoke of Lucy's -coming and of her own going as an unmixed blessing. This she did so -effectually as to make Aunt Emmeline declare to Sir Thomas, with -tears in her eyes, that the girl was heartless. But when, at the -moment of parting, the two girls were together, then Ayala broke -down. - -They were in the room, together, which one had occupied and the other -was to occupy, and their boxes were still upon the floor. Though less -than six months had passed since Ayala had come among the rich things -and Lucy had been among the poor, Ayala's belongings had become -much more important than her sister's. Though the Tringles had been -unpleasant they had been generous. Lucy was sitting upon the bed, -while Ayala was now moving about the room restlessly, now clinging -to her sister, and now sobbing almost in despair. "Of course I know," -she said. "What is the use of telling stories about it any longer?" - -"It is not too late yet, Ayala. If we both go to Uncle Tom he will -let us change it." - -"Why should it be changed? If I could change it by lifting up my -little finger I could not do it. Why should it not be you as well -as me? They have tried me, and,--as Aunt Emmeline says,--I have not -suited." - -"Aunt Dosett is not ill-natured, my darling." - -"No, I dare say not. It is I that am bad. It is bad to like pretty -things and money, and to hate poor things. Or, rather, I do not -believe it is bad at all, because it is so natural. I believe it is -all a lie as to its being wicked to love riches. I love them, whether -it is wicked or not." - -"Oh, Ayala!" - -"Do not you? Don't let us be hypocritical, Lucy, now at the last -moment. Did you like the way in which they lived in Kingsbury -Crescent?" - -Lucy paused before she answered. "I like it better than I did," she -said. "At any rate, I would willingly go back to Kingsbury Crescent." - -"Yes,--for my sake." - -"Indeed I would, my pet." - -"And for your sake I would rather die than stay. But what is the good -of talking about it, Lucy. You and I have no voice in it, though -it is all about ourselves. As you say, we are like two tame birds, -who have to be moved from one cage into another just as the owner -pleases. We belong either to Uncle Tom or Uncle Dosett, just as they -like to settle it. Oh, Lucy, I do so wish that I were dead." - -"Ayala, that is wicked." - -"How can I help it, if I am wicked? What am I to do when I get there? -What am I to say to them? How am I to live? Lucy, we shall never see -each other." - -"I will come across to you constantly." - -"I meant to do so, but I didn't. They are two worlds, miles asunder. -Lucy, will they let Isadore Hamel come here?" Lucy blushed and -hesitated. "I am sure he will come." - -Lucy remembered that she had given her friend her address at Queen's -Gate, and felt that she would seem to have done it as though she -had known that she was about to be transferred to the other uncle's -house. "It will make no difference if he does," she said. - -"Oh, I have such a dream,--such a castle-in-the-air! If I could think -it might ever be so, then I should not want to die." - -"What do you dream?" But Lucy, though she asked the question, knew -the dream. - -"If you had a little house of your own, oh, ever so tiny; and if you -and he--?" - -"There is no he." - -"There might be. And, if you and he would let me have any corner for -myself, then I should be happy. Then I would not want to die. You -would, wouldn't you?" - -"How can I talk about it, Ayala? There isn't such a thing. But -yet,--but yet; oh, Ayala, do you not know that to have you with me -would be better than anything?" - -"No;--not better than anything;--second best. He would be best. I do -so hope that he may be 'he.' Come in." There was a knock at the door, -and Aunt Emmeline, herself, entered the room. - -"Now, my dears, the horses are standing there, and the men are coming -up for the luggage. Ayala, I hope we shall see you very often. And -remember that, as regards anything that is unpleasant, bygones shall -be bygones." Then there was a crowd of farewell kisses, and in a few -minutes Ayala was alone in the carriage on her road up to Kingsbury -Crescent. - -The thing had been done so quickly that hitherto there had hardly -been time for tears. To Ayala herself the most remarkable matter in -the whole affair had been Tom's persistence. He had, at last, been -allowed to bring them home from Rome, there having been no other -gentleman whose services were available for the occasion. He had been -watched on the journey very closely, and had had no slant in his -favour, as the young lady to whom he was devoted was quite as anxious -to keep out of his way as had been the others of the party to -separate them. But he had made occasion, more than once, sufficient -to express his intention. "I don't mean to give you up, you know," he -had said to her. "When I say a thing I mean it. I am not going to be -put off by my mother. And as for the governor he would not say a word -against it if he thought we were both in earnest." - -"But I ain't in earnest," said Ayala; "or rather, I am very much in -earnest." - -"So am I. That's all I've got to say just at present." From this -there grew up within her mind a certain respect for the "lout," -which, however, made him more disagreeable to her than he might have -been had he been less persistent. - -It was late in the afternoon, not much before dinner, when Ayala -reached the house in Kingsbury Crescent. Hitherto she had known -almost nothing of her Aunt Dosett, and had never been intimate even -with her uncle. They, of course, had heard much of her, and had been -led to suppose that she was much less tractable than the simple Lucy. -This feeling had been so strong that Mr. Dosett himself would hardly -have been led to sanction the change had it not been for that promise -from Sir Thomas that he would not withdraw the provision he had made -for Ayala, and would do as much for Lucy if Lucy should become an -inmate of his family. Mrs. Dosett had certainly been glad to welcome -any change, when a change was proposed to her. There had grown up -something of affection at the last moment, but up to that time she -had certainly disliked her niece. Lucy had appeared to her to be at -first idle and then sullen. The girl had seemed to affect a higher -nature than her own, and had been wilfully indifferent to the little -things which had given to her life whatever interest it possessed. -Lucy's silence had been a reproach to her, though she herself had -been able to do so little to abolish the silence. Perhaps Ayala might -be better. - -But they were both afraid of Ayala,--as they had not been afraid of -Lucy before her arrival. They made more of preparation for her in -their own minds, and, as to their own conduct, Mr. Dosett was there -himself to receive her, and was conscious in doing so that there had -been something of failure in their intercourse with Lucy. Lucy had -been allowed to come in without preparation, with an expectation that -she would fall easily into her place, and there had been failure. -There had been no regular consultation as to this new coming, but -both Mr. and Mrs. Dosett were conscious of an intended effort. - -Lady Tringle and Mr. Dosett had always been Aunt Emmeline and -Uncle Reginald, by reason of the nearness of their relationship. -Circumstances of closer intercourse had caused Sir Thomas to be Uncle -Tom. But Mrs. Dosett had never become more than Aunt Dosett to either -of the girls. This in itself had been matter almost of soreness to -her, and she had intended to ask Lucy to adopt the more endearing -form of her Christian name; but there had been so little endearment -between them that the moment for doing so had never come. She was -thinking of all this up in her own room, preparatory to the reception -of this other girl, while Mr. Dosett was bidding her welcome to -Kingsbury Crescent in the drawing-room below. - -Ayala had been dissolved in tears during the drive round by -Kensington to Bayswater, and was hardly able to repress her sobs as -she entered the house. "My dear," said the uncle, "we will do all -that we can to make you happy here." - -"I am sure you will; but--but--it is so sad coming away from Lucy." - -"Lucy I am sure will be happy with her cousins." If Lucy's happiness -were made to depend on her cousins, thought Ayala, it would not be -well assured. "And my sister Emmeline is always good-natured." - -"Aunt Emmeline is very good, only--" - -"Only what?" - -"I don't know. But it is such a sudden change, Uncle Reginald." - -"Yes, it is a very great change, my dear. They are very rich and we -are poor enough. I should hardly have consented to this, for your -sake, but that there are reasons which will make it better for you -both." - -"As to that," said Ayala, stoutly, "I had to come away. I didn't -suit." - -"You shall suit us, my dear." - -"I hope so. I will try. I know more now than I did then. I thought I -was to be Augusta's equal." - -"We shall all be equal here." - -"People ought to be equal, I think,--except old people and young -people. I will do whatever you and my aunt tell me. There are no -young people here, so there won't be any trouble of that kind." - -"There will be no other young person, certainly. You shall go -upstairs now and see your aunt." - -Then there was the interview upstairs, which consisted chiefly in -promises and kisses, and Ayala was left alone to unpack her boxes and -prepare for dinner. Before she began her operations she sat still for -a few moments, and with an effort collected her energies and made her -resolution. She had said to Lucy in her passion that she would that -she were dead. That that should have been wicked was not matter of -much concern to her. But she acknowledged to herself that it had been -weak and foolish. There was her life before her, and she would still -endeavour to be happy though there had been so much to distress her. -She had flung away wealth. She was determined to fling it away still -when it should present itself to her in the shape of her cousin Tom. -But she had her dreams,--her day-dreams,--those castles in the air -which it had been the delight of her life to construct, and in the -building of which her hours had never run heavy with her. Isadore -Hamel would, of course, come again, and would, of course, marry Lucy, -and then there would be a home for her after her own heart. With -Isadore as her brother, and her own own Lucy close to her, she would -not feel the want of riches and of luxury. If there were only some -intellectual charm in her life, some touch of art, some devotion -to things beautiful, then she could do without gold and silver and -costly raiment. Of course, Isadore would come; and then--then--in the -far distance, something else would come, something of which in her -castle-building she had not yet developed the form, of which she did -not yet know the bearing, or the manner of its beauty, or the music -of its voice; but as to which she was very sure that its form would -be beautiful and its voice full of music. It can hardly be said that -this something was the centre of her dreams, or the foundation of -her castles. It was the extreme point of perfection at which she -would arrive at last, when her thoughts had become sublimated by the -intensity of her thinking. It was the tower of the castle from which -she could look down upon the inferior world below,--the last point -of the dream in arranging which she would all but escape from earth -to heaven,--when in the moment of her escape the cruel waking back -into the world would come upon her. But this she knew,--that this -something, whatever might be its form or whatever its voice, would be -exactly the opposite of Tom Tringle. - -She had fallen away from her resolution to her dreams for a time, -when suddenly she jumped up and began her work with immense energy. -Open went one box after another, and in five minutes the room was -strewed with her possessions. The modest set of drawers which was to -supply all her wants was filled with immediate haste. Things were -deposited in whatever nooks might be found, and every corner was -utilized. Her character for tidiness had never stood high. At the -bijou Lucy, or her mother, or the favourite maid, had always been at -hand to make good her deficiencies with a reproach which had never -gone beyond a smile or a kiss. At Glenbogie and even on the journey -there had been attendant lady's maids. But here she was all alone. - -Everything was still in confusion when she was called to dinner. As -she went down she recalled to herself her second resolution. She -would be good;--whereby she intimated to herself that she would -endeavour to do what might be pleasing to her Aunt Dosett. She had -little doubt as to her uncle. But she was aware that there had been -differences between her aunt and Lucy. If Lucy had found it difficult -to be good how great would be the struggle required from her! - -She sat herself down at table a little nearer to her aunt than her -uncle, because it was specially her aunt whom she wished to win, and -after a few minutes she put out her little soft hand and touched -that of Mrs. Dosett. "My dear," said that lady. "I hope you will be -happy." - -"I am determined to be happy," said Ayala, "if you will let me love -you." - -Mrs. Dosett was not beautiful, nor was she romantic. In appearance -she was the very reverse of Ayala. The cares of the world, the -looking after shillings and their results, had given her that look of -commonplace insignificance which is so frequent and so unattractive -among middle-aged women upon whom the world leans heavily. But there -was a tender corner in her heart which was still green, and from -which a little rill of sweet water could be made to flow when it -was touched aright. On this occasion a tear came to her eye as -she pressed her niece's hand; but she said nothing. She was sure, -however, that she would love Ayala much better than she had been able -to love Lucy. - -"What would you like me to do?" asked Ayala, when her aunt -accompanied her that night to her bed room. - -"To do, my dear? What do you generally do?" - -"Nothing. I read a little and draw a little, but I do nothing useful. -I mean it to be different now." - -"You shall do as you please, Ayala." - -"Oh, but I mean it. And you must tell me. Of course things have to be -different." - -"We are not rich like your uncle and aunt Tringle." - -"Perhaps it is better not to be rich, so that one may have something -to do. But I want you to tell me as though you really cared for me." - -"I will care for you," said Aunt Dosett, sobbing. - -"Then first begin by telling me what to do. I will try and do it. Of -course I have thought about it, coming away from all manner of rich -things; and I have determined that it shall not make me unhappy. I -will rise above it. I will begin to-morrow and do anything if you -will tell me." Then Aunt Dosett took her in her arms and kissed her, -and declared that on the morrow they would begin their work together -in perfect confidence and love with each other. - -"I think she will do better than Lucy," said Mrs. Dosett to her -husband that night. - -"Lucy was a dear girl too," said Uncle Reginald. - -"Oh, yes;--quite so. I don't mean to say a word against Lucy; but I -think that I can do better with Ayala. She will be more diligent." -Uncle Reginald said nothing to this, but he could not but think that -of the two Lucy would be the one most likely to devote herself to -hard work. - -On the next morning Ayala went out with her aunt on the round to the -shopkeepers, and listened with profound attention to the domestic -instructions which were given to her on the occasion. When she came -home she knew much of which she had known nothing before. What was -the price of mutton, and how much mutton she was expected as one of -the family to eat per week; what were the necessities of the house in -bread and butter, how far a pint of milk might be stretched,--with a -proper understanding that her Uncle Reginald as head of the family -was to be subjected to no limits. And before their return from that -walk,--on the first morning of Ayala's sojourn,--Ayala had undertaken -always to call Mrs. Dosett Aunt Margaret for the future. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -TOM TRINGLE COMES TO THE CRESCENT. - - -During the next three months, up to the end of the winter and through -the early spring, things went on without any change either in Queen's -Gate or Kingsbury Crescent. The sisters saw each other occasionally, -but not as frequently as either of them had intended. Lucy was not -encouraged in the use of cabs, nor was the carriage lent to her often -for the purpose of going to the Crescent. The reader may remember -that she had been in the habit of walking alone in Kensington -Gardens, and a walk across Kensington Gardens would carry her the -greater part of the distance to Kingsbury Crescent. But Lucy, in -her new circumstances, was not advised,--perhaps, I may say, was -not allowed,--to walk alone. Lady Tringle, being a lady of rank and -wealth, was afraid, or pretended to be afraid, of the lions. Poor -Ayala was really afraid of the lions. Thus it came to pass that the -intercourse was not frequent. In her daily life Lucy was quiet and -obedient. She did not run counter to Augusta, whose approaching -nuptials gave her that predominance in the house which is always -accorded to young ladies in her recognised position. Gertrude was at -this time a subject of trouble at Queen's Gate. Sir Thomas had not -been got to approve of Mr. Frank Houston, and Gertrude had positively -refused to give him up. Sir Thomas was, indeed, considerably troubled -by his children. There had been a period of disagreeable obstinacy -even with Augusta before Mr. Traffick had been taken into the bosom -of the family. Now Gertrude had her own ideas, and so also had -Tom. Tom had become quite a trouble. Sir Thomas and Lady Tringle, -together, had determined that Tom must be weaned; by which they meant -that he must be cured of his love. But Tom had altogether refused to -be weaned. Mr. Dosett had been requested to deny him admittance to -the house in Kingsbury Crescent, and as this request had been fully -endorsed by Ayala herself orders had been given to the effect to the -parlour-maid. Tom had called more than once, and had been unable to -obtain access to his beloved. But yet he resolutely refused to be -weaned. He told his father to his face that he intended to marry -Ayala, and abused his mother roundly when she attempted to interfere. -The whole family was astounded by his perseverance, so that there had -already sprung up an idea in the minds of some among the Tringles -that he would be successful at last. Augusta was very firm, declaring -that Ayala was a viper. But Sir Thomas, himself, began to inquire, -within his own bosom, whether Tom should not be allowed to settle -down in the manner desired by himself. In no consultation held at -Queen's Gate on the subject was there the slightest expression of an -opinion that Tom might be denied the opportunity of settling down as -he wished through any unwillingness on the part of Ayala. - -When things were in this position, Tom sought an interview one -morning with his father in Lombard Street. They rarely saw each other -at the office, each having his own peculiar branch of business. Sir -Thomas manipulated his millions in a little back room of his own, -while Tom, dealing probably with limited thousands, made himself -useful in an outer room. They never went to, or left, the office -together, but Sir Thomas always took care to know that his son -was or was not on the premises. "I want to say a word or two, Sir, -about--about the little affair of mine," said Tom. - -"What affair?" said Sir Thomas, looking up from his millions. - -"I think I should like to--marry." - -"The best thing you can do, my boy; only it depends upon who the -young lady may be." - -"My mind is made up about that, Sir; I mean to marry my cousin. I -don't see why a young man isn't to choose for himself." Then Sir -Thomas preached his sermon, but preached it in the manner which men -are wont to use when they know that they are preaching in vain. There -is a tone of refusal, which, though the words used may be manifestly -enough words of denial, is in itself indicative of assent. Sir Thomas -ended the conference by taking a week to think over the matter, and -when the week was over gave way. He was still inclined to think that -marriages with cousins had better be avoided; but he gave way, and at -last promised that if Tom and Ayala were of one mind an income should -be forthcoming. - -For the carrying out of this purpose it was necessary that the door -of Uncle Dosett's house should be unlocked, and with the object of -turning the key Sir Thomas himself called at the Admiralty. "I find -my boy is quite in earnest about this," he said to the Admiralty -clerk. - -"Oh; indeed." - -"I can't say I quite like it myself." Mr. Dosett could only shake his -head. "Cousins had better be cousins, and nothing more." - -"And then you would probably expect him to get money?" - -"Not at all," said Sir Thomas, proudly. "I have got money enough for -them both. It isn't an affair of money. To make a long story short, -I have given my consent; and, therefore, if you do not mind, I shall -be glad if you will allow Tom to call at the Crescent. Of course, -you may have your own views; but I don't suppose you can hope to do -better for the girl. Cousins do marry, you know, very often." Mr. -Dosett could only say that he could not expect to do anything for the -girl nearly so good, and that, as far as he was concerned, his nephew -Tom should be made quite welcome at Kingsbury Crescent. It was not, -he added, in his power to answer for Ayala. As to this, Sir Thomas -did not seem to have any doubts. The good things of the world, which -it was in his power to offer, were so good, that it was hardly -probable that a young lady in Ayala's position should refuse them. - -"My dear," said Aunt Margaret, the next morning, speaking in her most -suasive tone, "your Cousin Tom is to be allowed to call here." - -"Tom Tringle?" - -"Yes, my dear. Sir Thomas has consented." - -"Then he had better not," said Ayala, bristling up in hot anger. -"Uncle Tom has got nothing to do with it, either in refusing or -consenting. I won't see him." - -"I think you must see him if he calls." - -"But I don't want. Oh, Aunt Margaret, pray make him not come. I -don't like him a bit. We are doing so very well. Are we not, Aunt -Margaret?" - -"Certainly, my dear, we are doing very well;--at least, I hope so. -But you are old enough now to understand that this is a very serious -matter." - -"Of course it is serious," said Ayala, who certainly was not guilty -of the fault of making light of her future life. Those dreams of -hers, in which were contained all her hopes and all her aspirations, -were very serious to her. This was so much the case that she had -by no means thought of her Cousin Tom in a light spirit, as though -he were a matter of no moment to her. He was to her just what the -Beast must have been to the Beauty, when the Beast first began to -be in love. But her safety had consisted in the fact that no one -had approved of the Beast being in love with her. Now she could -understand that all the horrors of oppression might fall upon her. Of -course it was serious; but not the less was she resolved that nothing -should induce her to marry the Beast. - -"I think you ought to see him when he comes, and to remember how -different it will be when he comes with the approval of his father. -It is, of course, saying that they are ready to welcome you as their -daughter." - -"I don't want to be anybody's daughter." - -"But, Ayala, there are so many things to be thought of. Here is a -young man who is able to give you not only every comfort but great -opulence." - -"I don't want to be opulent." - -"And he will be a baronet." - -"I don't care about baronets, Aunt Margaret." - -"And you will have a house of your own in which you may be of service -to your sister." - -"I had rather she should have a house." - -"But Tom is not in love with Lucy." - -"He is such a lout! Aunt Margaret, I won't have anything to say to -him. I would a great deal sooner die. Uncle Tom has no right to send -him here. They have got rid of me, and I am very glad of it; but -it isn't fair that he should come after me now that I'm gone away. -Couldn't Uncle Reginald tell him to stay away?" - -A great deal more was said, but nothing that was said had the -slightest effect on Ayala. When she was told of her dependent -position, and of the splendour of the prospects offered, she declared -that she would rather go into the poor-house than marry her cousin. -When she was told that Tom was good-natured, honest, and true, she -declared that good-nature, honesty, and truth had nothing to do with -it. When she was asked what it was that she looked forward to in the -world she could merely sob and say that there was nothing. She could -not tell even her sister Lucy of those dreams and castles. How, then, -could she explain them to her Aunt Margaret? How could she make her -aunt understand that there could be no place in her heart for Tom -Tringle seeing that it was to be kept in reserve for some angel of -light who would surely make his appearance in due season,--but who -must still be there, present to her as her angel of light, even -should he never show himself in the flesh. How vain it was to talk -of Tom Tringle to her, when she had so visible before her eyes that -angel of light with whom she was compelled to compare him! - -But, though she could not be brought to say that she would listen -patiently to his story, she was nevertheless made to understand that -she must see him when he came to her. Aunt Margaret was very full on -that subject. A young man who was approved of by the young lady's -friends, and who had means at command, was, in Mrs. Dosett's opinion, -entitled to a hearing. How otherwise were properly authorised -marriages to be made up and arranged? When this was going on there -was in some slight degree a diminished sympathy between Ayala and her -aunt. Ayala still continued her household duties,--over which, in the -privacy of her own room, she groaned sadly; but she continued them -in silence. Her aunt, upon whom she had counted, was, she thought, -turning against her. Mrs. Dosett, on the other hand, declared to -herself that the girl was romantic and silly. Husbands with every -immediate comfort, and a prospect of almost unlimited wealth, are not -to be found under every hedge. What right could a girl so dependent -as Ayala have to refuse an eligible match? She therefore in this way -became an advocate on behalf of Tom,--as did also Uncle Reginald, -more mildly. Uncle Reginald merely remarked that Tom was attending -to his business, which was a great thing in a young man. It was not -much, but it showed Ayala that in this matter her uncle was her -enemy. In this, her terrible crisis, she had not a friend, unless it -might be Lucy. - -Then a day was fixed on which Tom was to come, which made the matter -more terrible by anticipation. "What can be the good?" Ayala said to -her aunt when the hour named for the interview was told her, "as I -can tell him everything just as well without his coming at all." But -all that had been settled. Aunt Margaret had repeated over and over -again that such an excellent young man as Tom, with such admirable -intentions, was entitled to a hearing from any young lady. In reply -to this Ayala simply made a grimace, which was intended to signify -the utter contempt in which she held her cousin Tom with all his -wealth. - -Tom Tringle, in spite of his rings and a certain dash of vulgarity, -which was, perhaps, not altogether his own fault, was not a bad -fellow. Having taken it into his heart that he was very much in love -he was very much in love. He pictured to himself a happiness of a -wholesome cleanly kind. To have the girl as his own, to caress her -and foster her, and expend himself in making her happy; to exalt her, -so as to have it acknowledged that she was, at any rate, as important -as Augusta; to learn something from her, so that he, too, might -become romantic, and in some degree poetical;--all this had come -home to him in a not ignoble manner. But it had not come home to him -that Ayala might probably refuse him. Hitherto Ayala had been very -persistent in her refusals; but then hitherto there had existed the -opposition of all the family. Now he had overcome that, and he felt -therefore that he was entitled to ask and to receive. - -On the day fixed, and at the hour fixed, he came in the plenitude of -all his rings. Poor Tom! It was a pity that he should have had no -one to advise him as to his apparel. Ayala hated his jewelry. She -was not quite distinct in her mind as to the raiment which would be -worn by the angel of light when he should come, but she was sure -that he would not be chiefly conspicuous for heavy gilding; and Tom, -moreover, had a waistcoat which would of itself have been suicidal. -Such as he was, however, he was shown up into the drawing-room, where -he found Ayala alone. It was certainly a misfortune to him that no -preliminary conversation was possible. Ayala had been instructed -to be there with the express object of listening to an offer of -marriage. The work had to be done,--and should be done; but it would -not admit of other ordinary courtesies. She was very angry with -him, and she looked her anger. Why should she be subjected to this -terrible annoyance? He had sense enough to perceive that there was no -place for preliminary courtesy, and therefore rushed away at once to -the matter in hand. "Ayala!" he exclaimed, coming and standing before -her as she sat upon the sofa. - -"Tom!" she said, looking boldly up into his face. - -"Ayala, I love you better than anything else in the world." - -"But what's the good of it?" - -"Of course it was different when I told you so before. I meant to -stick to it, and I was determined that the governor should give way. -But you couldn't know that. Mother and the girls were all against -us." - -"They weren't against me," said Ayala. - -"They were against our being married, and so they squeezed you out -as it were. That is why you have been sent to this place. But they -understand me now, and know what I am about. They have all given -their consent, and the governor has promised to be liberal. When he -says a thing he'll do it. There will be lots of money." - -"I don't care a bit about money," said Ayala, fiercely. - -"No more do I,--except only that it is comfortable. It wouldn't do to -marry without money,--would it?" - -"It would do very well if anybody cared for anybody." The angel of -light generally appeared "in forma pauperis," though there was always -about him a tinge of bright azure which was hardly compatible with -the draggle-tailed hue of everyday poverty. - -"But an income is a good thing, and the governor will come down like -a brick." - -"The governor has nothing to do with it. I told you before that it -is all nonsense. If you will only go away and say nothing about it I -shall always think you very good-natured." - -"But I won't go away," said Tom speaking out boldly, "I mean to stick -to it. Ayala, I don't believe you understand that I am thoroughly in -earnest." - -"Why shouldn't I be in earnest, too?" - -"But I love you, Ayala. I have set my heart upon it. You don't know -how well I love you. I have quite made up my mind about it." - -"And I have made up my mind." - -"But Ayala--" Now the tenor of his face changed, and something of the -look of a despairing lover took the place of that offensive triumph -which had at first sat upon his brow. "I don't suppose you care for -any other fellow yet." - -There was the angel of light. But even though she might be most -anxious to explain to him that his suit was altogether impracticable -she could say nothing to him about the angel. Though she was sure -that the angel would come, she was not certain that she would ever -give herself altogether even to the angel. The celestial castle -which was ever being built in her imagination was as yet very much -complicated. But had it been ever so clear it would have been quite -impossible to explain anything of this to her cousin Tom. "That has -nothing to do with it," she said. - -"If you knew how I love you!" This came from him with a sob, and as -he sobbed he went down before her on his knees. - -"Don't be a fool, Tom,--pray don't. If you won't get up I shall go -away. I must go away. I have heard all that there is to hear. I told -them that there is no use in your coming." - -"Ayala!" with this there were veritable sobs. - -"Then why don't you give it up and let us be good friends." - -"I can't give it up. I won't give it up. When a fellow means it as I -do he never gives it up. Nothing on earth shall make me give it up. -Ayala, you've got to do it, and so I tell you." - -"Nobody can make me," said Ayala, nodding her head, but somewhat -tamed by the unexpected passion of the young man. - -"Then you won't say one kind word to me?" - -"I can't say anything kinder." - -"Very well. Then I shall go away and come again constantly till you -do. I mean to have you. When you come to know how very much I love -you I do think you will give way at last." With that he picked -himself up from the ground and hurried out of the house without -saying another word. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -"WOULD YOU?" - - -The scene described in the last chapter took place in March. For -three days afterwards there was quiescence in Kingsbury Crescent. -Then there came a letter from Tom to Ayala, very pressing, full of -love and resolution, offering to wait any time,--even a month,--if -she wished it, but still persisting in his declared intention of -marrying her sooner or later;--not by any means a bad letter had -there not been about it a little touch of bombast which made it -odious to Ayala's sensitive appreciation. To this. Ayala wrote a -reply in the following words: - - - When I tell you that I won't, you oughtn't to go on. It - isn't manly. - - AYALA. - - Pray do not write again for I shall never answer another. - - -Of this she said nothing to Mrs. Dosett, though the arrival of Tom's -letter must have been known to that lady. And she posted her own -epistle without a word as to what she was doing. - -She wrote again and again to Lucy imploring her sister to come to -her, urging that as circumstances now were she could not show herself -at the house in Queen's Gate. To these Lucy always replied; but she -did not reply by coming, and hardly made it intelligible why she did -not come. Aunt Emmeline hoped, she said, that Ayala would very soon -be able to be at Queen's Gate. Then there was a difficulty about the -carriage. No one would walk across with her except Tom; and walking -by herself was forbidden. Aunt Emmeline did not like cabs. Then there -came a third or fourth letter, in which Lucy was more explanatory, -but yet not sufficiently so. During the Easter recess, which would -take place in the middle of April, Augusta and Mr. Traffick would -be married. The happy couple were to be blessed with a divided -honeymoon. The interval between Easter and Whitsuntide would require -Mr. Traffick's presence in the House, and the bride with her -bridegroom were to return to Queen's Gate. Then they would depart -again for the second holidays, and when they were so gone Aunt -Emmeline hoped that Ayala would come to them for a visit. "They quite -understand," said Lucy, "that it will not do to have you and Augusta -together." - -This was not at all what Ayala wanted. "It won't at all do to have me -and him together," said Ayala to herself, alluding of course to Tom -Tringle. But why did not Lucy come over to her? Lucy, who knew so -well that her sister did not want to see any one of the Tringles, who -must have been sure that any visit to Queen's Gate must have been -impossible, ought to have come to her. To whom else could she say -a word in her trouble? It was thus that Ayala argued with herself, -declaring to herself that she must soon die in her misery,--unless -indeed that angel of light might come to her assistance very quickly. - -But Lucy had troubles of her own in reference to the family at -Queen's Gate, which did, in fact, make it almost impossible to visit -her sister for some weeks. Sir Thomas had given an unwilling but a -frank consent to his son's marriage,--and then expected simply to be -told that it would take place at such and such a time, when money -would be required. Lady Tringle had given her consent,--but not quite -frankly. She still would fain have forbidden the banns, had any power -of forbidding remained in her hands. Augusta was still hot against -the marriage, and still resolute to prevent it. That proposed journey -upstairs after the scrap-book at Glenbogie, that real journey up to -the top of St. Peter's, still rankled in her heart. That Tom should -make Ayala a future baronet's wife; that Tom should endow Ayala with -the greatest share of the Tringle wealth; that Ayala should become -powerful in Queen's Gate, and dominant probably at Merle Park and -Glenbogie,--was wormwood to her. She was conscious that Ayala was -pretty and witty, though she could affect to despise the wit and the -prettiness. By instigating her mother, and by inducing Mr. Traffick -to interfere when Mr. Traffick should be a member of the family, -she thought that she might prevail. With her mother she did in part -prevail. Her future husband was at present too much engaged with -Supply and Demand to be able to give his thoughts to Tom's affairs. -But there would soon be a time when he naturally would be compelled -to divide his thoughts. Then there was Gertrude. Gertrude's own -affairs had not as yet been smiled upon, and the want of smiles she -attributed very much to Augusta. Why should Augusta have her way and -not she, Gertrude, nor her brother Tom? She therefore leagued herself -with Tom, and declared herself quite prepared to receive Ayala into -the house. In this way the family was very much divided. - -When Lucy first made her petition for the carriage, expressing her -desire to see Ayala, both her uncle and her aunt were in the room. -Objection was made,--some frivolous objection,--by Lady Tringle, who -did not in truth care to maintain much connection between Queen's -Gate and the Crescent. Then Sir Thomas, in his burly authoritative -way, had said that Ayala had better come to them. That same evening -he had settled or intended to settle it with his wife. Let Ayala come -as soon as the Trafficks,--as they then would be,--should have gone. -To this Lady Tringle had assented, knowing more than her husband as -to Ayala's feelings, and thinking that in this way a breach might be -made between them. Ayala had been a great trouble to her, and she was -beginning to be almost sick of the Dormer connection altogether. It -was thus that Lucy was hindered from seeing her sister for six weeks -after that first formal declaration of his love made by Tom to Ayala. -Tom had still persevered and had forced his way more than once into -Ayala's presence, but Ayala's answers had been always the same. "It's -a great shame, and you have no right to treat me in this, way." - -Then came the Traffick marriage with great eclat. There were no less -than four Traffick bridesmaids, all of them no doubt noble, but none -of them very young, and Gertrude and Lucy were bridesmaids,--and two -of Augusta's friends. Ayala, of course, was not of the party. Tom was -gorgeous in his apparel, not in the least depressed by his numerous -repulses, quite confident of ultimate success, and proud of his -position as a lover with so beautiful a girl. He talked of his -affairs to all his friends, and seemed to think that even on this -wedding-day his part was as conspicuous as that of his sister, -because of his affair with his beautiful cousin. "Augusta doesn't hit -it off with her," he said to one of his friends, who asked why Ayala -was not at the wedding,--"Augusta is the biggest fool out, you know. -She's proud of her husband because he's the son of a lord. I wouldn't -change Ayala for the daughter of any duchess in Europe;"--thus -showing that he regarded Ayala as being almost his own already. Lord -Boardotrade was there, making a semi-jocose speech, quite in the -approved way for a cognate paterfamilias. Perhaps there was something -of a thorn in this to Sir Thomas, as it had become apparent at last -that Mr. Traffick himself did not purpose to add anything from his -own resources to the income on which he intended to live with his -wife. Lord Boardotrade had been obliged to do so much for his eldest -son that there appeared to be nothing left for the member for Port -Glasgow. Sir Thomas was prepared with his L120,000, and did not -perhaps mind this very much. But a man, when he pays his money, likes -to have some return for it, and he did not quite like the tone with -which the old nobleman, not possessed of very old standing in the -peerage, seemed to imply that he, like a noble old Providence, had -enveloped the whole Tringle family in the mantle of his noble blood. -He combined the jocose and the paternal in the manner appropriate to -such occasions; but there did run through Sir Thomas's mind as he -heard him an idea that L120,000 was a sufficient sum to pay, and that -it might be necessary to make Mr. Traffick understand that out of the -income thenceforth coming he must provide a house for himself and his -wife. It had been already arranged that he was to return to Queen's -Gate with his wife for the period between Easter and Whitsuntide. -It had lately,--quite lately,--been hinted to Sir Thomas that the -married pair would run up again after the second holidays. Mr. -Septimus Traffick had once spoken of Glenbogie as almost all his own, -and Augusta had, in her father's hearing, said a word intended to be -very affectionate about "dear Merle Park." Sir Thomas was a father -all over, with all a father's feelings; but even a father does not -like to be done. Mr. Traffick, no doubt, was a member of Parliament -and son of a peer;--but there might be a question whether even Mr. -Traffick had not been purchased at quite his full value. - -Nevertheless the marriage was pronounced to have been a success. -Immediately after it,--early, indeed, on the following morning,--Sir -Thomas inquired when Ayala was coming to Queen's Gate. "Is it -necessary that she should come quite at present?" asked Lady Tringle. - -"I thought it was all settled," said Sir Thomas, angrily. This had -been said in the privacy of his own dressing-room, but downstairs -at the breakfast-table, in the presence of Gertrude and Lucy, he -returned to the subject. Tom, who did not live in the house, was -not there. "I suppose we might as well have Ayala now," he said, -addressing himself chiefly to Lucy. "Do you go and manage it with -her." There was not a word more said. Sir Thomas did not always have -his own way in his family. What man was ever happy enough to do that? -But he was seldom directly contradicted. Lady Tringle when the order -was given pursed up her lips, and he, had he been observant, might -have known that she did not intend to have Ayala if she could help -it. But he was not observant,--except as to millions. - -When Sir Thomas was gone, Lady Tringle discussed the matter with -Lucy. "Of course, my dear," she said, "if we could make dear Ayala -happy--" - -"I don't think she will come, Aunt Emmeline." - -"Not come!" This was not said at all in a voice of anger, but simply -as eliciting some further expression of opinion. - -"She's afraid of--Tom." Lucy had never hitherto expressed a positive -opinion on that matter at Queen's Gate. When Augusta had spoken of -Ayala as having run after Tom, Lucy had been indignant, and had -declared that the running had been all on the other side. In a side -way she had hinted that Ayala, at any rate at present, was far from -favourable to Tom's suit. But she had never yet spoken out her mind -at Queen's Gate as Ayala had spoken it to her. - -"Afraid of him?" said Aunt Emmeline. - -"I mean that she is not a bit in love with him, and when a girl is -like that I suppose she is--is afraid of a man, if everybody else -wants her to marry him." - -"Why should everybody want her to marry Tom?" asked Lady Tringle, -indignantly. "I am sure I don't want her." - -"I suppose it is Uncle Tom, and Aunt Dosett, and Uncle Reginald," -said poor Lucy, finding that she had made a mistake. - -"I don't see why anybody should want her to marry Tom. Tom is carried -away by her baby face, and makes a fool of himself. As to everybody -wanting her, I hope she does not flatter herself that there is -anything of the kind." - -"I only meant that I think she would rather not be brought here, -where she would have to see him daily." - -After this the loan of the carriage was at last made, and Lucy was -allowed to visit her sister at the Crescent. "Has he been there?" was -almost the first question that Ayala asked. - -"What he do you mean?" - -"Isadore Hamel." - -"No; I have not seen him since I met him in the Park. But I do not -want to talk about Mr. Hamel, Ayala. Mr. Hamel is nothing." - -"Oh, Lucy." - -"He is nothing. Had he been anything, he has gone, and there would be -an end to it. But he is nothing." - -"If a man is true he may go, but he will come back." Ayala had her -ideas about the angel of light very clearly impressed upon her mind -in regard to the conduct of the man, though they were terribly -vague as to his personal appearance, his condition of life, his -appropriateness for marriage, and many other details of his -circumstances. It had also often occurred to her that this angel of -light, when he should come, might not be in love with herself,--and -that she might have to die simply because she had seen him and loved -him in vain. But he would be a man sure to come back if there were -fitting reasons that he should do so. Isadore Hamel was not quite an -angel of light, but he was nearly angelic,--at any rate very good, -and surely would come back. - -"Never mind about Mr. Hamel, Ayala. It is not nice to talk about a -man who has never spoken a word." - -"Never spoken a word! Oh, Lucy!" - -"Mr. Hamel has never spoken a word, and I will not talk about him. -There! All my heart is open to you, Ayala. You know that. But I will -not talk about Mr. Hamel. Aunt Emmeline wants you to come to Queen's -Gate." - -"I will not." - -"Or rather it is Sir Thomas who wants you to come. I do like Uncle -Tom. I do, indeed." - -"So do I." - -"You ought to come when he asks you." - -"Why ought I? That lout would be there,--of course." - -"I don't know about his being a lout, Ayala." - -"He comes here, and I have to be perfectly brutal to him. You can't -guess the sort of things I say to him, and he doesn't mind it a bit. -He thinks that he has to go on long enough, and that I must give way -at last. If I were to go to Queen's Gate it would be just as much as -to say that I had given way." - -"Why not?" - -"Lucy!" - -"Why not? He is not bad. He is honest, and true, and kind-hearted. I -know you can't be happy here." - -"No." - -"Aunt Dosett, with all her affairs, must be trouble to you. I could -not bear them patiently. How can you?" - -"Because they are better than Tom Tringle. I read somewhere about -there being seven houses of the Devil, each one being lower and worse -than the other. Tom would be the lowest,--the lowest,--the lowest." - -"Ayala, my darling." - -"Do not tell me that I ought to marry Tom," said Ayala, almost -standing off in anger from the proferred kiss. "Do you think that I -could love him?" - -"I think you could if you tried, because he is loveable. It is so -much to be good, and then he loves you truly. After all, it is -something to have everything nice around you. You have not been made -to be poor and uncomfortable. I fear that it must be bad with you -here." - -"It is bad." - -"I wish I could have stayed, Ayala. I am more tranquil than you, and -could have borne it better." - -"It is bad. It is one of the houses,--but not the lowest. I can eat -my heart out here, peaceably, and die with a great needle in my hand -and a towel in my lap. But if I were to marry him I should kill -myself the first hour after I had gone away with him. Things! What -would things be with such a monster as that leaning over one? Would -you marry him?" In answer to this, Lucy made no immediate reply. "Why -don't you say? You want me to marry him. Would you?" - -"No." - -"Then why should I?" - -"I could not try to love him." - -"Try! How can a girl try to love any man? It should come because she -can't help it, let her try ever so. Trying to love Tom Tringle! Why -can't you try?" - -"He doesn't want me." - -"But if he did? I don't suppose it would make the least difference to -him which it was. Would you try if he asked?" - -"No." - -"Then why should I? Am I so much a poorer creature than you?" - -"You are a finer creature. You know that I think so." - -"I don't want to be finer. I want to be the same." - -"You are free to do as you please. I am not--quite." - -"That means Isadore Hamel." - -"I try to tell you all the truth, Ayala; but pray do not talk about -him even to me. As for you, you are free; and if you could--" - -"I can't. I don't know that I am free, as you call it." Then Lucy -started, as though about to ask the question which would naturally -follow. "You needn't look like that, Lucy. There isn't any one to be -named." - -"A man not to be named?" - -"There isn't a man at all. There isn't anybody. But I may have my -own ideas if I please. If I had an Isadore Hamel of my own I could -compare Tom or Mr. Traffick, or any other lout to him, and could say -how infinitely higher in the order of things was my Isadore than -any of them. Though I haven't an Isadore can't I have an image? And -can't I make my image brighter, even higher, than Isadore? You won't -believe that, of course, and I don't want you to believe it yourself. -But you should believe it for me. My image can make Tom Tringle just -as horrible to me as Isadore Hamel can make him to you." Thus it was -that Ayala endeavoured to explain to her sister something of the -castle which she had built in the air, and of the angel of light who -inhabited the castle. - -Then it was decided between them that Lucy should explain to Aunt -Emmeline that Ayala could not make a prolonged stay at Queen's Gate. -"But how shall I say it?" asked Lucy. - -"Tell her the truth, openly. 'Tom wants to marry Ayala, and Ayala -won't have him. Therefore, of course, she can't come, because it -would look as though she were going to change her mind,--which she -isn't.' Aunt Emmeline will understand that, and will not be a bit -sorry. She doesn't want to have me for a daughter-in-law. She had -quite enough of me at Rome." - -All this time the carriage was waiting, and Lucy was obliged to -return before half of all that was necessary had been said. What was -to be Ayala's life for the future? How were the sisters to see each -other? What was to be done when, at the end of the coming summer, -Lucy should be taken first to Glenbogie and then to Merle Park? -There is a support in any excitement, though it be in the excitement -of sorrow only. At the present moment Ayala was kept alive by the -necessity of her battle with Tom Tringle, but how would it be with -her when Tom should have given up the fight? Lucy knew, by sad -experience, how great might be the tedium of life in Kingsbury -Crescent, and knew, also, how unfitted Ayala was to endure it. There -seemed to be no prospect of escape in future. "She knows nothing of -what I am suffering," said Ayala, "when she gives me the things to -do, and tells me of more things, and more, and more! How can there -be so many things to be done in such a house as this?" But as Lucy -was endeavouring to explain how different were the arrangements in -Kingsbury Crescent from those which had prevailed at the bijou, the -offended coachman sent up word to say that he didn't think Sir Thomas -would like it if the horses were kept out in the rain any longer. -Then Lucy hurried down, not having spoken of half the things which -were down in her mind on the list for discussion. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -HOW THE TRINGLES FELL INTO TROUBLE. - - -After the Easter holidays the Trafficks came back to Queen's Gate, -making a combination of honeymoon and business which did very well -for a time. It was understood that it was to be so. During honeymoon -times the fashionable married couple is always lodged and generally -boarded for nothing. That opening wide of generous hands, which -exhibits itself in the joyous enthusiasm of a coming marriage, taking -the shape of a houseful of presents, of a gorgeous and ponderous -trousseau, of a splendid marriage feast, and not unfrequently of -subsidiary presents from the opulent papa,--presents which are -subsidiary to the grand substratum of settled dowry,--generously -extends itself to luxurious provision for a month or two. That Mr. -and Mrs. Traffick should come back to Queen's Gate for the six weeks -intervening between Easter and Whitsuntide had been arranged, and -arranged also that the use of Merle Park, for the Whitsun holidays, -should be allowed to them. This last boon Augusta, with her sweetest -kiss, had obtained from her father only two days before the wedding. -But when it was suggested, just before the departure to Merle Park, -that Mr. Traffick's unnecessary boots might be left at Queen's Gate, -because he would come back there, then Sir Thomas, who had thought -over the matter, said a word. - -It was in this way. "Mamma," said Augusta, "I suppose I can leave a -lot of things in the big wardrobe. Jemima says I cannot take them to -Merle Park without ever so many extra trunks." - -"Certainly, my dear. When anybody occupies the room, they won't want -all the wardrobe. I don't know that any one will come this summer." - -This was only the thin end of the wedge, and, as Augusta felt, was -not introduced successfully. The words spoken seemed to have admitted -that a return to Queen's Gate had not been intended. The conversation -went no further at the moment, but was recommenced the same evening. -"Mamma, I suppose Septimus can leave his things here?" - -"Of course, my dear; he can leave anything,--to be taken care of." - -"It will be so convenient if we can come back,--just for a few days." - -Now, there certainly had been a lack of confidence between the -married daughter and her mother as to a new residence. A word had -been spoken, and Augusta had said that she supposed they would go -to Lord Boardotrade when they left Queen's Gate, just to finish the -season. Now, it was known that his lordship, with his four unmarried -daughters, lived in a small house in a small street in Mayfair. The -locality is no doubt fashionable, but the house was inconvenient. Mr. -Traffick, himself, had occupied lodgings near the House of Commons, -but these had been given up. "I think you must ask your papa," said -Lady Tringle. - -"Couldn't you ask him?" said the Honourable Mrs. Traffick. Lady -Tringle was driven at last to consent, and then put the question to -Sir Thomas,--beginning with the suggestion as to the unnecessary -boots. - -"I suppose Septimus can leave his things here?" - -"Where do they mean to live when they come back to town?" asked Sir -Thomas, sharply. - -"I suppose it would be convenient if they could come here for a -little time," said Lady Tringle. - -"And stay till the end of the season,--and then go down to Glenbogie, -and then to Merle Park! Where do they mean to live?" - -"I think there was a promise about Glenbogie," said Lady Tringle. - -"I never made a promise. I heard Traffick say that he would like -to have some shooting,--though, as far as I know, he can't hit a -haystack. They may come to Glenbogie for two or three weeks, if they -like, but they shan't stay here during the entire summer." - -"You won't turn your own daughter out, Tom." - -"I'll turn Traffick out, and I suppose he'll take his wife with him," -said Sir Thomas, thus closing the conversation in wrath. - -The Trafficks went and came back, and were admitted into the bed-room -with the big wardrobe, and to the dressing-room where the boots -were kept. On the very first day of his arrival Mr. Traffick -was in the House at four, and remained there till four the next -morning,--certain Irish Members having been very eloquent. He was not -down when Sir Thomas left the next morning at nine, and was again at -the House when Sir Thomas came home to dinner. "How long is it to -be?" said Sir Thomas, that night, to his wife. There was a certain -tone in his voice which made Lady Tringle feel herself to be ill all -over. It must be said, in justice to Sir Thomas, that he did not -often use this voice in his domestic circle, though it was well known -in Lombard Street. But he used it now, and his wife felt herself to -be unwell. "I am not going to put up with it, and he needn't think -it." - -"Don't destroy poor Augusta's happiness so soon." - -"That be d----d," said the father, energetically. "Who's going to -destroy her happiness. Her happiness ought to consist in living in -her husband's house. What have I given her all that money for?" Then -Lady Tringle did not dare to say another word. - -It was not till the third day that Sir Thomas and his son-in-law met -each other. By that time Sir Thomas had got it into his head that his -son-in-law was avoiding him. But on the Saturday there was no House. -It was then just the middle of June,--Saturday, June 15,--and Sir -Thomas had considered, at the most, that there would be yet nearly -two months before Parliament would cease to sit and the time for -Glenbogie would come. He had fed his anger warm, and was determined -that he would not be done. "Well, Traffick, how are you?" he said, -encountering his son-in-law in the hall, and leading him into the -dining-room. "I haven't seen you since you've been back." - -"I've been in the House morning, noon, and night, pretty near." - -"I dare say. I hope you found yourself comfortable at Merle Park." - -"A charming house,--quite charming. I don't know whether I shouldn't -build the stables a little further from--" - -"Very likely. Nothing is so easy as knocking other people's houses -about. I hope you'll soon have one to knock about of your own." - -"All in good time," said Mr. Traffick, smiling. - -Sir Thomas was one of those men who during the course of a successful -life have contrived to repress their original roughnesses, and who -make a not ineffectual attempt to live after the fashion of those -with whom their wealth and successes have thrown them. But among such -will occasionally be found one whose roughness does not altogether -desert him, and who can on an occasion use it with a purpose. Such -a one will occasionally surprise his latter-day associates by the -sudden ferocity of his brow, by the hardness of his voice, and by an -apparently unaccustomed use of violent words. The man feels that he -must fight, and, not having learned the practice of finer weapons, -fights in this way. Unskilled with foils or rapier he falls back -upon the bludgeon with which his hand has not lost all its old -familiarity. Such a one was Sir Thomas Tringle, and a time for such -exercise had seemed to him to have come now. There are other men who -by the possession of imperturbable serenity seem to be armed equally -against rapier and bludgeon, whom there is no wounding with any -weapon. Such a one was Mr. Traffick. When he was told of knocking -about a house of his own, he quite took the meaning of Sir Thomas's -words, and was immediately prepared for the sort of conversation -which would follow. "I wish I might;--a Merle Park of my own for -instance. If I had gone into the city instead of to Westminster it -might have come in my way." - -"It seems to me that a good deal has come in your way without very -much trouble on your part." - -"A seat in the House is a nice thing,--but I work harder I take it -than you do, Sir Thomas." - -"I never have had a shilling but what I earned. When you leave this -where are you and Augusta going to live?" - -This was a home question, which would have disconcerted most -gentlemen in Mr. Traffick's position, were it not that gentlemen -easily disconcerted would hardly find themselves there. - -"Where shall we go when we leave this? You were so kind as to say -something about Glenbogie when Parliament is up." - -"No, I didn't." - -"I thought I understood it." - -"You said something and I didn't refuse." - -"Put it any way you like, Sir Thomas." - -"But what do you mean to do before Parliament is up? The long and the -short of it is, we didn't expect you to come back after the holidays. -I like to be plain. This might go on for ever if I didn't speak out." - -"And a very comfortable way of going on it would be." Sir Thomas -raised his eyebrows in unaffected surprise, and then again assumed -his frown. "Of course I'm thinking of Augusta chiefly." - -"Augusta made up her mind no doubt to leave her father's house when -she married." - -"She shows her affection for her parents by wishing to remain in it. -The fact, I suppose, is, you want the rooms." - -"But even if we didn't? You're not going to live here for ever, I -suppose." - -"That, Sir, is too good to be thought of, I fear. The truth is we -had an idea of staying at my father's. He spoke of going down to the -country and lending us the house. My sisters have made him change his -mind and so here we are. Of course we can go into lodgings." - -"Or to an hotel." - -"Too dear! You see you've made me pay such a sum for insuring my -life. I'll tell you what I'll do. If you'll let us make it out here -till the 10th of July we'll go into an hotel then." Sir Thomas, -surprised at his own compliance, did at last give way. "And then we -can have a month at Glenbogie from the 12th." - -"Three weeks," said Sir Thomas, shouting at the top of his voice. - -"Very well; three weeks. If you could have made it the month it would -have been convenient; but I hate to be disagreeable." Thus the matter -was settled, and Mr. Traffick was altogether well pleased with the -arrangement. - -"What are we to do?" said Augusta, with a very long face. "What are -we to do when we are made to go away?" - -"I hope I shall be able to make some of the girls go down by that -time, and then we must squeeze in at my father's." - -This and other matters made Sir Thomas in those days irritable and -disagreeable to the family. "Tom," he said to his wife, "is the -biggest fool that ever lived." - -"What is the matter with him now?" asked Lady Tringle, who did not -like to have her only son abused. - -"He's away half his time, and when he does come he'd better be away. -If he wants to marry that girl why doesn't he marry her and have done -with it?" - -Now this was a matter upon which Lady Tringle had ideas of her own -which were becoming every day stronger. "I'm sure I should be very -sorry to see it," she said. - -"Why should you be sorry? Isn't it the best thing a young man can do? -If he's set his heart that way all the world won't talk him off. I -thought all that was settled." - -"You can't make the girl marry him." - -"Is that it?" asked Sir Thomas, with a whistle. "You used to say she -was setting her cap at him." - -"She is one of those girls you don't know what she would be at. She's -full of romance and nonsense, and isn't half as fond of telling the -truth as she ought to be. She made my life a burden to me while she -was with us, and I don't think she would be any better for Tom." - -"But he's still determined." - -"What's the use of that?" said Lady Tringle. - -"Then he shall have her. I made him a promise and I'm not going to -give it up. I told him that if he was in earnest he should have her." - -"You can't make a girl marry a young man." - -"You have her here, and then we'll take her to Glenbogie. Now when I -say it I mean it. You go and fetch her, and if you don't I will. I'm -not going to have her turned out into the cold in that way." - -"She won't come, Tom." Then he turned round and frowned at her. - -The immediate result of this was that Lady Tringle herself did drive -across to Kingsbury Crescent accompanied by Gertrude and Lucy, and -did make her request in form. "My dear, your uncle particularly wants -you to come to us for the next month." Mrs. Dosett was sitting by. "I -hope Ayala may be allowed to come to us for a month." - -"Ayala must answer for herself," said Mrs. Dosett, firmly. There had -never been any warm friendship between Mrs. Dosett and her husband's -elder sister. - -"I can't," said Ayala, shaking her head. - -"Why not, my dear?" said Lady Tringle. - -"I can't," said Ayala. - -Lady Tringle was not in the least offended or annoyed at the refusal. -She did not at all desire that Ayala should come to Glenbogie. Ayala -at Glenbogie would make her life miserable to her. It would, of -course, lead to Tom's marriage, and then there would be internecine -fighting between Ayala and Augusta. But it was necessary that she -should take back to her husband some reply;--and this reply, if -in the form of refusal, must come from Ayala herself. "Your uncle -has sent me," said Lady Tringle, "and I must give him some reason. -As for expense, you know,"--then she turned to Mrs. Dosett with a -smile,--"that of course would be our affair." - -"If you ask me," said Mrs. Dosett, "I think that as Ayala has come -to us she had better remain with us. Of course things are very -different, and she would be only discontented." At this Lady Tringle -smiled her sweetest smile,--as though acknowledging that things -certainly were different,--and then turned to Ayala for a further -reply. - -"Aunt Emmeline, I can't," said Ayala. - -"But why, my dear? Can't isn't a courteous answer to a request that -is meant to be kind." - -"Speak out, Ayala," said Mrs. Dosett. "There is nobody here but your -aunts." - -"Because of Tom." - -"Tom wouldn't eat you," said Lady Tringle, again smiling. - -"It's worse than eating me," said Ayala. "He will go on when I tell -him not. If I were down there he'd be doing it always. And then you'd -tell me that I--encouraged him!" - -Lady Tringle felt this to be unkind and undeserved. Those passages -in Rome had been very disagreeable to every one concerned. The girl -certainly, as she thought, had been arrogant and impertinent. She had -been accepted from charity and had then domineered in the family. She -had given herself airs and had gone out into company almost without -authority, into company which had rejected her,--Lady Tringle. It had -become absolutely necessary to get rid of an inmate so troublesome, -so unbearable. The girl had been sent away,--almost ignominiously. -Now she, Lady Tringle, the offended aunt, the aunt who had so -much cause for offence, had been good enough, gracious enough, to -pardon all this, and was again offering the fruition of a portion -of her good things to the sinner. No doubt she was not anxious -that the offer should be accepted, but not the less was it made -graciously,--as she felt herself. In answer to this she had thrown -back upon her the only hard word she had ever spoken to the girl! -"You wouldn't be told anything of the kind, but you needn't come if -you don't like it." - -"Then I don't," said Ayala, nodding her head. - -"But I did think that after all that has passed, and when I am trying -to be kind to you, you would have made yourself more pleasant to me. -I can only tell your uncle that you say you won't." - -"Give my love to my uncle, and tell him that I am much obliged to him -and that I know how good he is; but I can't--because of Tom." - -"Tom is too good for you," exclaimed Aunt Emmeline, who could not -bear to have her son depreciated even by the girl whom she did not -wish to marry him. - -"I didn't say he wasn't," said Ayala, bursting into tears. "The -Archbishop of Canterbury would be too good for me, but I don't want -to marry him." Then she got up and ran out of the room in order that -she might weep over her troubles in the privacy of her own chamber. -She was thoroughly convinced that she was being ill-used. No one had -a right to tell her that any man was too good for her unless she -herself should make pretensions to the man. It was an insult to -her even to connect her name with that of any man unless she had -done something to connect it. In her own estimation her cousin Tom -was infinitely beneath her,--worlds beneath her,--a denizen of an -altogether inferior race, such as the Beast was to the Beauty! Not -that Ayala had ever boasted to herself of her own face or form. It -was not in that respect that she likened herself to the Beauty when -she thought of Tom as the Beast. Her assumed superiority existed in -certain intellectual or rather artistic and aesthetic gifts,--certain -celestial gifts. But as she had boasted of them to no one, as she -had never said that she and her cousin were poles asunder in their -tastes, poles asunder in their feelings, poles asunder in their -intelligence, was it not very, very cruel that she should be told, -first that she encouraged him, and then that she was not good enough -for him? Cinderella did not ask to have the Prince for her husband. -When she had her own image of which no one could rob her, and was -content with that, why should they treat her in this cruel way? - -"I am afraid you are having a great deal of trouble with her," said -Lady Tringle to Mrs. Dosett. - -"No, indeed. Of course she is romantic, which is very objectionable." - -"Quite detestable!" said Lady Tringle. - -"But she has been brought up like that, so that it is not her fault. -Now she endeavours to do her best." - -"She is so upsetting." - -"She is angry because her cousin persecutes her." - -"Persecutes her, indeed! Tom is in a position to ask any girl to be -his wife. He can give her a home of her own, and a good income. She -ought to be proud of the offer instead of speaking like that. But -nobody wants her to have him." - -"He wants it, I suppose." - -"Just taken by her baby face;--that's all. It won't last, and she -needn't think so. However, I've done my best to be kind, Mrs. Dosett, -and there's an end of it. If you please I'll ring the bell for the -carriage. Good-bye." After that she swam out of the room and had -herself carried back to Queen's Gate. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -FRANK HOUSTON. - - -Three or four days afterwards Sir Thomas asked whether Ayala was to -come to Glenbogie. "She positively refused," said his wife, "and -was so rude and impertinent that I could not possibly have her now." -Then Sir Thomas frowned and turned himself away, and said not a word -further on that occasion. - -There were many candidates for Glenbogie on this occasion. Among -others there was Mr. Frank Houston, whose candidature was not pressed -by himself,--as could not well have been done,--but was enforced by -Gertrude on his behalf. It was now July. Gertrude and Mr. Houston -had seen something of each other in Rome, as may be remembered, and -since then had seen a good deal of each other in town. Gertrude was -perfectly well aware that Mr. Houston was impecunious; but Augusta -had been allowed to have an impecunious lover, and Tom to throw -himself at the feet of an impecunious love. Gertrude felt herself to -be entitled to her L120,000; did not for a moment doubt but that she -would get it. Why shouldn't she give it to any young man she liked -as long as he belonged to decent people? Mr. Houston wasn't a Member -of Parliament,--but then he was young and good-looking. Mr. Houston -wasn't son to a lord, but he was brother to a county squire, and came -of a family much older than that of those stupid Boardotrade and -Traffick people. And then Frank Houston was very presentable, was not -at all bald, and was just the man for a girl to like as a husband. It -was dinned into her ears that Houston had no income at all,--just a -few hundreds a year on which he never could keep himself out of debt. -But he was a generous man, who would be more than contented with the -income coming from L120,000. He would not spunge upon the house at -Queen's Gate. He would not make use of Merle Park and Glenbogie. He -would have a house of his own for his old boots. Four-per-cent. would -give them nearly L5,000 a year. Gertrude knew all about it already. -They could have a nice house near Queen's Gate;--say somewhere about -Onslow Gardens. There would be quite enough for a carriage for three -months upon a mountain in Switzerland, and three more among the art -treasures of Italy. It was astonishing how completely Gertrude had -it all at her finger's ends when she discussed the matter with her -mother. Mr. Houston was a man of no expensive tastes. He didn't want -to hunt. He did shoot, no doubt, and perhaps a little shooting at -Glenbogie might be nice before they went to Switzerland. In that case -two months on the top of the mountain would suffice. But if he was -not asked he would never condescend to demand an entry at Glenbogie -as a part of his wife's dower. Lady Tringle was thus talked over, -though she did think that at least one of her daughters' husbands -ought to have an income of his own. There was another point which -Gertrude put forward very frankly, and which no doubt had weight with -her mother. "Mamma, I mean to have him," she said, when Lady Tringle -expressed a doubt. - -"But papa?" - -"I mean to have him. Papa can scold, of course, if he pleases." - -"But where would the income come from if papa did not give it?" - -"Of course he'll give it. I've a right to it as much as Augusta." -There was something in Gertrude's face as she said this which made -her mother think that she would have her way. - -But Sir Thomas had hitherto declined. When Frank Houston, after -the manner of would-be sons-in-law, had applied to Sir Thomas, Sir -Thomas, who already knew all about it, asked after his income, his -prospects, and his occupation. Fifty years ago young men used to -encounter the misery of such questions, and to live afterwards often -in the enjoyment of the stern questioner's money and daughters. But -there used in those days to be a bad quarter of an hour while the -questions were being asked, and not un-frequently a bad six months -afterwards, while the stern questioner was gradually undergoing a -softening process under the hands of the females of the family. But -the young man of to-day has no bad quarter of an hour. "You are a -mercantile old brick, with money and a daughter. I am a jeunesse -doree,--gilded by blood and fashion, though so utterly impecunious! -Let us know your terms. How much is it to be, and then I can say -whether we can afford to live upon it." The old brick surrenders -himself more readily and speedily to the latter than to the former -manner;--but he hardly surrenders himself quite at once. Frank -Houston, when inquired into, declared at once, without blushing, -that he had no income at all to speak of in reference to matrimonial -life. As to family prospects he had none. His elder brother had four -blooming boys, and was likely to have more. As for occupation, he -was very fond of painting, very fond of art all round, could shoot a -little, and was never in want of anything to do as long as he had a -book. But for the earning of money he had no turn whatever. He was -quite sure of himself that he could never earn a shilling. But then -on the other hand he was not extravagant,--which was almost as good -as earning. It was almost incredible; but with his means, limited -as they were to a few hundreds, he did not owe above a thousand -pounds;--a fact which he thought would weigh much with Sir Thomas in -regard to his daughter's future happiness. - -Sir Thomas gave him a flat refusal. "I think that I may boast that -your daughter's happiness is in my charge," said Frank Houston. - -"Then she must be unhappy," said Sir Thomas. Houston shrugged his -shoulders. "A fool like that has no right to be happy." - -"There isn't another man in the world by whom I would allow her to be -spoken of like that," said Houston. - -"Bother!" - -"I regard her as all that is perfect in woman, and you must forgive -me if I say that I shall not abandon my suit. I may be allowed, at -any rate, to call at the house?" - -"Certainly not." - -"That is a kind of thing that is never done nowadays;--never," said -Houston, shaking his head. - -"I suppose my own house is my own." - -"Yours and Lady Tringle's, and your daughters', no doubt. At any -rate, Sir Thomas, you will think of this again. I am sure you will -think of it again. If you find that your daughter's happiness depends -upon it--" - -"I shall find nothing of the kind. Good morning." - -"Good morning, Sir Thomas." Then Mr. Houston, bowing graciously, left -the little back room in Lombard Street, and jumping into a cab, had -himself taken straight away to Queen's Gate. - -"Papa is always like that," said Gertrude. On that day Mrs. Traffick, -with all the boots, had taken herself away to the small house in -Mayfair, and Gertrude, with her mother, had the house to herself. At -the present moment Lady Tringle was elsewhere, so that the young lady -was alone with her lover. - -"But he comes round, I suppose." - -"If he doesn't have too much to eat,--which disagrees with him,--he -does. He's always better down at Glenbogie because he's out of doors -a good deal, and then he can digest things." - -"Then take him down to Glenbogie and let him digest it at once." - -"Of course we can't go till the 12th. Perhaps we shall start on the -10th, because the 11th is Sunday. What will you do, Frank?" There had -been a whisper of Frank's going to the Tyrol in August, there to join -the Mudbury Docimers, who were his far-away cousins. Imogene Docimer -was a young lady of marvellous beauty,--not possessed indeed of -L120,000,--of whom Gertrude had heard, and was already anxious that -her Frank should not go to the Tyrol this year. She was already aware -that her Frank had--just an artist's eye for feminine beauty in its -various shapes, and thought that in the present condition of things -he would be better at Glenbogie than in the Tyrol. - -"I am thinking of wandering away somewhere;--perhaps to the Tyrol. -The Mudbury Docimers are there. He's a pal of mine, besides being a -cousin. Mrs. Docimer is a very nice woman." - -"And her sister?" - -"A lovely creature. Such a turn of the neck! I've promised to make a -study of her back head." - -"Come down to Glenbogie," said Gertrude, sternly. - -"How can I do that when your governor won't let me enter his -house-door even in London?" - -"But you're here." - -"Well,--yes;--I am here. But he told me not. I don't see how I'm to -drive in at the gate at Glenbogie with all my traps, and ask to be -shown my room. I have cheek enough for a good deal, my pet." - -"I believe you have, Sir;--cheek enough for anything. But mamma must -manage it,--mamma and me, between us. Only keep yourself disengaged. -You won't go to the Tyrol,--eh?" Then Frank Houston promised that he -would not go to the Tyrol as long as there was a chance open that he -might be invited to Glenbogie. - -"I won't hear of it," said Sir Thomas to his wife. On that occasion -his digestion had perhaps failed him a little. "He only wants to get -my money." - -"But Gertrude has set her heart on it, and nothing will turn her -away." - -"Why can't she set her heart on some one who has got a decent income. -That man hasn't a shilling." - -"Nor yet has Mr. Traffick." - -"Mr. Traffick has, at any rate, got an occupation. Were it to do -again, Mr. Traffick would never see a shilling of my money. By ----, -those fellows, who haven't got a pound belonging to them, think that -they're to live on the fat of the land out of the sweat of the brow -of such men as me." - -"What is your money for, Tom, but for the children?" - -"I know what it's for. I'd sooner build a hospital than give it to an -idle fellow like that Houston. When I asked him what he did, he said -he was fond of 'picters!'" Sir Thomas would fall back from his usual -modes of expression when he was a little excited. - -"Of course he hasn't been brought up to work. But he is a gentleman, -and I do think he would make our girl happy." - -"My money would make him happy,--till he had spent it." - -"Tie it up." - -"You don't know what you're talking about. How are you to prevent a -man from spending his wife's income?" - -"At any rate, if you have him down at Glenbogie you can see what sort -of a man he is. You don't know him now." - -"As much as I wish to." - -"That isn't fair to the poor girl. You needn't give your consent to -a marriage because he comes to Glenbogie. You have only to say that -you won't give the money and then it must be off. They can't take -the money from you." His digestion could not have been very bad, for -he allowed himself to be persuaded that Houston should be asked to -Glenbogie for ten days. This was the letter of invitation;-- - - - MY DEAR MR. HOUSTON, - - We shall start for Glenbogie on the 10th of next month. - Sir Thomas wishes you to join us on the 20th if you can, - and stay till the end of the month. We shall be a little - crowded at first, and therefore cannot name an earlier - day. - - I am particularly to warn you that this means nothing more - than a simple invitation. I know what passed between you - and Sir Thomas, and he hasn't at all changed his mind. I - think it right to tell you this. If you like to speak to - him again when you are at Glenbogie of course you can. - - Very sincerely yours, - - EMMELINE TRINGLE. - - -At the same time, or within a post of it, he got another letter, -which was as follows;-- - - - DEAREST F, - - Papa, you see, hasn't cut up so very rough, after all. You - are to be allowed to come and help to slaughter grouse, - which will be better than going to that stupid Tyrol. - If you want to draw somebody's back head you can do it - there. Isn't it a joke papa's giving way like that all in - a moment? He gets so fierce sometimes that we think he's - going to eat everybody. Then he has to come down, and he - gets eaten worse than anybody else. - - Of course, as you're asked to Glenbogie, you can come - here as often as you like. I shall ride on Thursday and - Friday. I shall expect you exactly at six, just under the - Memorial. You can't come home to dinner, you know, because - he might flare up; but you can turn in at lunch every day - you please except Saturday and Sunday. I intend to be so - jolly down at Glenbogie. You mustn't be shooting always. - - Ever your own, - - G. - - -Frank Houston as he read this threw himself back on the sofa and gave -way to a soft sigh. He knew he was doing his duty,--just as another -man does who goes forth from his pleasant home to earn his bread -and win his fortune in some dry, comfortless climate, far from the -delights to which he has been always accustomed. He must do his duty. -He could not live always adding a hundred or two of debt to the -burden already round his neck. He must do his duty. As he thought -of this he praised himself mightily. How beautiful was his far-away -cousin, Imogene Docimer, as she would twist her head round so as to -show the turn of her neck! How delightful it would be to talk love to -Imogene! As to marrying Imogene, who hadn't quite so many hundreds -as himself, that he knew to be impossible. As for marriage, he -wasn't quite sure that he wanted to marry any one. Marriage, to his -thinking, was "a sort of grind," at the best. A man would have to get -up and go to bed with some regularity. His wife might want him to -come down in a frock coat to breakfast. His wife would certainly -object to his drawing the back heads of other young women. Then he -thought of the provocation he had received to draw Gertrude's back -head. Gertrude hadn't got any turn of a neck to speak of. Gertrude -was a stout, healthy girl; and, having L120,000, was entitled to such -a husband as himself. If he waited longer he might be driven to worse -before he found the money which was so essentially necessary. He was -grateful to Gertrude for not being worse, and was determined to treat -her well. But as for love, romance, poetry, art,--all that must for -the future be out of the question. Of course, there would now be no -difficulty with Sir Thomas, and therefore he must at once make up his -mind. He decided that morning, with many soft regrets, that he would -go to Glenbogie, and let those dreams of wanderings in the mountains -of the Tyrol pass away from him. "Dear, dearest Imogene!" He could -have loved Imogene dearly had fates been more propitious. Then he got -up and shook himself, made his resolution like a man, ate a large -allowance of curried salmon for his breakfast,--and then wrote the -following letter. "Duty first!" he said to himself as he sat down to -the table like a hero. - - - Letter No. 1. - - DEAR LADY TRINGLE, - - So many thanks! Nothing could suit my book so well as a - few days at Glenbogie just at the end of August. I will be - there, like a book, on the 20th. Of course I understand - all that you say. Fathers can't be expected to yield all - at once, especially when suitors haven't got very much of - their own. I shouldn't have dared to ask hadn't I known - myself to be a most moderate man. Of course I shall ask - again. If you will help me, no doubt I shall succeed. I - really do think that I am the man to make Gertrude happy. - - Yours, dear Lady Tringle, ever so much, - - F. HOUSTON. - - - Letter No. 2. - - MY OWN ONE, - - Your governor is a brick. Of course, Glenbogie will be - better than the Tyrol, as you are to be there. Not but - what the Tyrol is a very jolly place, and we'll go and see - it together some day. Ask Tom to let me know whether one - can wear heavy boots in the Glenbogie mountains. They are - much the best for the heather; but I have shot generally - in Yorkshire, and there they are too hot. What number does - he shoot with generally? I fancy the birds are wilder with - you than with us. - - As for riding, I don't dare to sit upon a horse this - weather. Nobody but a woman can stand it. Indeed, now I - think of it, I sold my horse last week to pay the fellow - I buy paints from. I've got the saddle and bridle, and if - I stick them up upon a rail, under the trees, it would be - better than any horse while the thermometer is near 80. - All the ladies could come round and talk to one so nicely. - - I hate lunch, because it makes me red in the face, and - nobody will give me my breakfast before eleven at the - earliest. But I'll come in about three as often as you - like to have me. I think I perhaps shall run over to the - Tyrol after Glenbogie. A man must go somewhere when he has - been turned out in that fashion. There are so many babies - at Buncombe Hall! - - ---Buncombe Hall is the family seat of the Houstons,-- - - - and I don't like to see my own fate typified before the - time. - - Can I do anything for you except riding or eating - lunch,--which are simply feminine exercises? Always your - own, - - FRANK. - - - Letter No. 3. - - DEAR COUSIN IM, - - How pleasant it is that a little strain of thin blood - should make the use of that pretty name allowable! What - a stupid world it is when the people who like each other - best cannot get together because of proprieties, and - marriages, and such balderdash as we call love. I do not - in the least want to be in love with you,--but I do want - to sit near you, and listen to you, and look at you, and - to know that the whole air around is impregnated by the - mysterious odour of your presence. When one is thoroughly - satisfied with a woman there comes a scent as of sweet - flowers, which does not reach the senses of those whose - feelings are not so awakened. - - And now for my news! I suppose that G. T. will in a - tremendously short period become Mistress F. H. 'A long - day, my Lord.' But, if you are to be hung, better be hung - at once. Pere Tringle has not consented,--has done just - the reverse,--has turned me out of his house, morally. - That is, out of his London house. He asked of my 'house - and my home,' as they did of Allan-a-Dale. - - Queen's Gate and Glenbogie stand fair on the hill. - "My home," quoth bold Houston, "shows gallanter still. - 'Tis the garret up three pair--" - - Then he told me roughly to get me gone; but 'I had laughed - on the lass with my bonny black eye.' So the next day I - got an invite to Glenbogie, and at the appropriate time in - August, - - She'll go to the mountains to hear a love tale, - And the youth-- - - it will be told by is to be your poor unfortunate coz, - Frank Houston. Who's going to whimper? Haven't I known - all along what was to come? It has not been my lot in - life to see a flower and pick it because I love it. But - a good head of cabbage when you're hungry is wholesome - food.--Your loving cousin, but not loving as he oughtn't - to love, - - FRANK HOUSTON. - - I shall still make a dash for the Tyrol when this episode - at Glenbogie is over. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -AYALA WITH HER FRIENDS. - - -Some few days after Lady Tringle had been at Kingsbury Crescent, -two visitors, who knew little or nothing of each other, came to see -Ayala. One was a lady and the other a gentleman, and the lady came -first. The gentleman, however, arrived before the lady had gone. Mrs. -Dosett was present while the lady remained; but when the gentleman -came she was invited to leave him alone with her niece,--as shall be -told. - -The lady was the Marchesa Baldoni. Can the reader go so far back as -to remember the Marchesa Baldoni? It was she who rather instigated -Ayala to be naughty to the Tringles in Rome, and would have Ayala -at her parties when she did not want the Tringles. The Marchesa was -herself an Englishwoman, though she had lived at Rome all her life, -and had married an Italian nobleman. She was now in London for a few -weeks, and still bore in mind her friendship for Ayala, and a certain -promise she had once made her. In Rome Lady Tringle, actuated by -Augusta, who at the moment was very angry with everybody including -her own lover, had quarrelled with the Marchesa. The Marchesa had -then told Ayala that she, Ayala, must stay with her aunt,--must, -in fact, cease for the time to come to the Marchesa's apartments, -because of the quarrel; but that a time would come in which they -might again be friends. Soon afterwards the Marchesa had heard that -the Tringle family had discarded poor Ayala,--that her own quarrel -had, in fact, extended itself to Ayala, and that Ayala had been -shunted off to a poor relation, far away from all the wealth and -luxuries which she had been allowed to enjoy for so short a time. -Therefore, soon after her arrival in London, the Marchesa had made -herself acquainted with the address of the Dosetts, and now was in -Kingsbury Crescent in fulfilment of her promise made at Rome. - -"So now you have got our friend Ayala," said the Marchesa with a -smile to Mrs. Dosett. - -"Yes; we have her now. There has been a change. Her sister, Lucy, has -gone to my husband's sister, Lady Tringle." - -The Marchesa made a pleasant little bow at each word. She seemed to -Mrs. Dosett to be very gorgeously dressed. She was thoroughly well -dressed, and looked like a Marchesa;--or perhaps, even, like a -Marchioness. She was a tall, handsome woman, with a smile perhaps -a little too continuously sweet, but with a look conscious of her -own position behind it. She had seen in a moment of what nature was -Ayala, how charming, how attractive, how pretty, how clever,--how -completely the very opposite of the Tringles! Ayala learned Italian -so readily that she could talk it almost at once. She could sing, -and play, and draw. The Marchesa had been quite willing that her -own daughter Nina should find a friend in Ayala. Then had come the -quarrel. Now she was quite willing to renew the friendship, though -Ayala's position was so sadly altered. Mrs. Dosett was almost -frightened as the grand lady sat holding Ayala's hand, and patting -it. "We used to know her so well in Rome;--did we not, Ayala?" - -"You were very kind to me." - -"Nina couldn't come, because her father would make her go with him to -the pictures. But now, my dear, you must come to us just for a little -time. We have a furnished house in Brook Street, near the park, till -the end of the season, and we have one small spare room which will -just do for you. I hope you will let her come to us, for we really -are old friends," said the Marchesa, turning to Mrs. Dosett. - -Mrs. Dosett looked black. There are people who always look black when -such applications are made to them,--who look black at any allusions -to pleasures. And then there came across her mind serious thoughts as -to flowers and ribbons,--and then more serious thoughts as to boots, -dresses, and hats. Ayala, no doubt, had come there less than six -months since with good store of everything; but Mrs. Dosett knew that -such a house as would be that of this lady would require a girl to -show herself with the newest sheen on everything. And Ayala knew it -too. The Marchesa turned from the blackness of Mrs. Dosett's face -with her sweetest smile to Ayala. "Can't we manage it?" said the -Marchesa. - -"I don't think we can," said Ayala, with a deep sigh. - -"And why not?" - -Ayala looked furtively round to her aunt. "I suppose I may tell, Aunt -Margaret?" she said. - -"You may tell everything, my dear," said Mrs. Dosett. - -"Because we are poor," said Ayala. - -"What does that matter?" said the Marchesa, brightening up. "We want -you because you are rich in good gifts and pretty ways." - -"But I can't get new frocks now as I used to do in Rome. Aunt -Emmeline was cruel to me, and said things which I could not bear. But -they let me have everything. Uncle Reginald gives me all that he has, -and I am much happier here. But we cannot go out and buy things,--can -we, Aunt Margaret?" - -"No, my dear; we cannot." - -"It does not signify," said the Marchesa. "We are quite quiet, and -what you have got will do very well. Frocks! The frocks you had in -Rome are good enough for London. I won't have a word of all that. -Nina has set her heart upon it, and so has my husband, and so have -I. Mrs. Dosett, when we are at home we are the most homely people in -the world. We think nothing of dressing. Not to come and see your old -friends because of your frocks! We shall send for you the day after -to-morrow. Don't you know, Mrs. Dosett, it will do her good to be -with her young friend for a few days." Mrs. Dosett had not succeeded -in her remonstrances when Sir Thomas Tringle was shown into the room, -and then the Marchesa took her leave. For Sir Thomas Tringle was the -other visitor who came on that morning to see Ayala. - -"If you wouldn't mind, Mrs. Dosett," said Sir Thomas before he sat -down, "I should like to see Ayala alone." Mrs. Dosett had not a word -to say against such a request, and at once took her leave. - -"My dear," he began, coming and sitting opposite to Ayala, with his -knees almost touching her, "I have got something very particular to -say to you." Ayala was at once much frightened. Her uncle had never -before spoken to her in this way,--had never in truth said a word to -her seriously. He had always been kind to her, making her presents, -and allowing himself to be kissed graciously morning and evening. He -had never scolded her, and, better than all, had never said a word to -her, one way or the other, about Tom. She had always liked her uncle, -because he had never caused her trouble when all the others in his -house had been troublesome to her. But now she was afraid of him. He -did not frown, but he looked very seriously at her, as he might look, -perhaps, when he was counting out all his millions in Lombard Street. -"I hope you think that I have always wished to be kind to you, -Ayala." - -"I am sure you have, Uncle Tom." - -"When you had come to us I always wished you to stay. I don't like -changes of this sort. I suppose you didn't hit it off with Augusta. -But she's gone now." - -"Aunt Emmeline said something." That accusation, as to -"encouragement," so rankled in her heart, that when she looked back -at her grievances among the Tringles that always loomed the largest. - -"I don't want to hear anything about it," said Sir Thomas. "Let -bygones be bygones. Your aunt, I am sure, never meant unkindly by -you. Now, I want you to listen to me." - -"I will, Uncle Tom." - -"Listen to me to the end, like a good girl." - -"I will." - -"Your Cousin Tom--." Ayala gave a visible shudder, and uttered an -audible groan, but as yet she did not say a word. Sir Thomas, having -seen the shudder, and heard the groan, did frown as he began again. -"Your Cousin Tom is most truly attached to you." - -"Why won't he leave me alone, then?" - -"Ayala, you promised to listen to me without speaking." - -"I will, Uncle Tom. Only--" - -"Listen to me, and then I will hear anything you have to say." - -"I will," said Ayala, screwing up her lips, so that no words should -come out of them, let the provocation be what it might. - -Sir Thomas began again. "Your Cousin Tom is most truly attached to -you. For some time I and his mother disapproved of this. We thought -you were both too young, and there were other reasons which I need -not now mention. But when I came to see how thoroughly he was in -earnest, how he put his heart into it, how the very fact that he -loved you had made a man of him; then how the fact that you would -not return his love unmanned him,--when I saw all that, I gave my -permission." Here he paused, almost as though expecting a word; but -Ayala gave an additional turn to the screw on her lips, and remained -quite silent. "Yes; we gave our permission,--I and your aunt. Of -course, our son's happiness is all in all to us; and I do believe -that you are so good that you would make him a good wife." - -"But--" - -"Listen till I have done, Ayala." Then there was another squeeze. "I -suppose you are what they call romantic. Romance, my dear, won't buy -bread and butter. Tom is a very good young man, and he loves you -most dearly. If you will consent to be his I will make a rich man of -him. He will then be a respectable man of business, and will become -a partner in the house. You and he can choose a place to live in -almost where you please. You can have your own establishment and your -carriage, and will be able to do a deal of good. You will make him -happy, and you will be my dear child. I have come here to tell you -that I will make you welcome into the family, and to promise that I -will do everything I can to make you happy. Now you may say what you -like; but, Ayala, think a little before you speak." - -Ayala thought a little;--not as to what she should say, but as to -the words in which she might say it. She was conscious that a great -compliment was paid to her. And there was a certain pride in her -heart as she thought that this invitation into the family had come to -her after that ignominious accusation of encouragement had been made. -Augusta had snubbed her about Tom, and her aunt; but now she was -asked to come among them, and be one of them, with full observances. -She was aware of all this, and aware, also, that such treatment -required from her a gracious return. But not on that account could -she give herself to the Beast. Not on that account could she be -untrue to her image. Not on that account could she rob her bosom -of that idea of love which was seated there. Not on that account -could she look upon the marriage proposed to her with aught but a -shuddering abhorrence. She sat silent for a minute or two, while her -heavy eyes were fixed upon his. Then, falling on her knees before -him, she put up her little hands to pray to him. "Uncle Tom, I -can't," she said. And then the tears came running down her cheeks. - -"Why can't you, Ayala? Why cannot you be sensible, as other girls -are?" said Sir Thomas, lifting her up, and putting her on his knee. - -"I can't," she said. "I don't know how to tell you." - -"Do you love some other man?" - -"No; no; no!" To Uncle Tom, at any rate, she need say nothing of the -image. - -"Then why is it?" - -"Because I can't. I don't know what to say, but I can't. I know how -very, very, very good you are." - -"I would love you as my daughter." - -"But I can't, Uncle Tom. Pray tell him, and make him get somebody -else. He would be quite happy if he could get somebody else." - -"It is you that he loves." - -"But what's the use of it, when I can't? Dear, dear Uncle Tom, do -have it all settled for me. Nothing on earth could ever make me do -it. I should die if I were to try." - -"That's nonsense." - -"I do so want not to make you angry, Uncle Tom. And I do so wish he -would be happy with someone else. Nobody ought to be made to marry -unless they like it;--ought they?" - -"There is no talk of making," said Sir Thomas, frowning. - -"At any rate I can't," said Ayala, releasing herself from her uncle's -embrace. - -It was in vain that even after this he continued his request, begging -her to come down to Glenbogie, so that she might make herself used -to Tom and his ways. If she could only once more, he thought, be -introduced to the luxuries of a rich house, then she would give way. -But she would not go to Glenbogie; she would not go to Merle Park; -she would not consent to see Tom anywhere. Her uncle told her that -she was romantic and foolish, endeavouring to explain to her over -and over again that the good things of the world were too good to be -thrown away for a dream. At last there was a touch of dignity in the -final repetition of her refusal. "I am sorry to make you angry, but -I can't, Uncle Tom." Then he frowned with all his power of frowning, -and, taking his hat, left the room and the house almost without a -word. - -At the time fixed the Marchesa's carriage came, and Ayala with her -boxes was taken away to Brook Street. Uncle Reginald had offered -to do something for her in the way of buying a frock, but this she -refused, declaring that she would not allow herself to become an -expense merely because her friends in Rome had been kind to her. So -she had packed up the best of what she had and started, with her -heart in her mouth, fearing the grandeur of the Marchesa's house. On -her arrival she was received by Nina, who at once threw herself into -all her old intimacy. "Oh, Ayala," she said, "this is so nice to have -you again. I have been looking forward to this ever since we left -Rome." - -"Yes," said Ayala, "it is nice." - -"But why did you tell mamma you would not come? What nonsense to -talk to her about frocks? Why not come and tell me? You used to have -everything at Rome, much more than I had." - -Then Ayala began to explain the great difference between Uncle Tom -and Uncle Reginald,--how Uncle Tom had so many thousands that nobody -could count them, how Uncle Reginald was so shorn in his hundreds -that there was hardly enough to supply the necessaries of life. -"You see," she said, "when papa died Lucy and I were divided. I -got the rich uncle, and Lucy got the poor one; but I made myself -disagreeable, and didn't suit, and so we have been changed." - -"But why did you make yourself disagreeable?" said Nina, opening her -eyes. "I remember when we were at Rome your cousin Augusta was always -quarrelling with you. I never quite knew what it was all about." - -"It wasn't only that," said Ayala, whispering. - -"Did you do anything very bad?" - -Then it occurred to Ayala that she might tell the whole story to -her friend, and she told it. She explained the nature of that great -persecution as to Tom. "And that was the real reason why we were -changed," said Ayala, as she completed her story. - -"I remember seeing the young man," said Nina. - -"He is such a lout!" - -"But was he very much in love?" asked Nina. - -"Well, I don't know. I suppose he was after his way. I don't think -louts like that can be very much in love to signify. Young men when -they look like that would do with one girl as well as another." - -"I don't see that at all," said Nina. - -"I am sure he would if he'd only try. At any rate what's the good of -his going on? They can't make a girl marry unless she chooses." - -"Won't he be rich?" - -"Awfully rich," said Ayala. - -"Then I should think about it again," said the young lady from Rome. - -"Never," said Ayala, with an impressive whisper. "I will never think -about it again. If he were made of diamonds I would not think about -it again." - -"And is that why you were changed?" said Nina. - -"Well, yes. No; it is very hard to explain. Aunt Emmeline told me -that--that I encouraged him. I thought I should have rushed out of -the house when she said that. Then I had to be changed. I don't know -whether they could forgive me, but I could not forgive her." - -"And how is it now?" - -"It is different now," said Ayala, softly. "Only that it can't make -any real difference." - -"How different?" - -"They'd let me come if I would, I suppose; but I shall never, never -go to them any more." - -"I suppose you won't tell me everything?" said Nina, after a pause. - -"What everything?" - -"You won't be angry if I ask?" - -"No, I will not be angry." - -"I suppose there is someone else you really care for?" - -"There is no one," said Ayala, escaping a little from her friend's -embrace. - -"Then why should you be so determined against that poor young man?" - -"Because he is a lout and a beast," said Ayala, jumping up. "I wonder -you should ask me;--as if that had anything to do with it. Would you -fall in love with a lout because you had no one else? I would rather -live for ever all alone, even in Kingsbury Crescent, than have to -think of becoming the wife of my cousin Tom." At this Nina shrugged -her shoulders, showing that her education in Italy had been less -romantic than that accorded to Ayala in London. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -JONATHAN STUBBS. - - -But, though Nina differed somewhat from Ayala as to their ideas as -to life in general, they were close friends, and everything was done -both by the Marchesa and by her daughter to make Ayala happy. There -was not very much of going into grand society, and that difficulty -about the dresses solved itself, as do other difficulties. There came -a few presents, with entreaties from Ayala that presents of that -kind might not be made. But the presents were, of course, accepted, -and our girl was as prettily arrayed, if not as richly, as the best -around her. At first there was an evening at the opera, and then a -theatre,--diversions which are easy. Ayala, after her six dull months -in Kingsbury Crescent, found herself well pleased to be taken to -easy amusements. The carriage in the park was delightful to her, and -delightful a visit which was made to her by Lucy. For the Tringle -carriage could be spared for a visit in Brook Street, even though -there was still a remembrance in the bosom of Aunt Emmeline of the -evil things which had been done by the Marchesa in Rome. Then there -came a dance,--which was not so easy. The Marchesa and Nina were -going to a dance at Lady Putney's, and arrangements were made -that Ayala should be taken. Ayala begged that there might be no -arrangements, declared that she would be quite happy to see Nina go -forth in her finery. But the Marchesa was a woman who always had her -way, and Ayala was taken to Lady Putney's dance without a suspicion -on the part of any who saw her that her ball-room apparatus was not -all that it ought to be. - -Ayala when she entered the room was certainly a little bashful. When -in Rome, even in the old days at the bijou, when she did not consider -herself to be quite out, she had not been at all bashful. She had -been able to enjoy herself entirely, being very fond of dancing, -conscious that she could dance well, and always having plenty to say -for herself. But now there had settled upon her something of the -tedium, something of the silence, of Kingsbury Crescent, and she -almost felt that she would not know how to behave herself if she were -asked to stand up and dance before all Lady Putney's world. In her -first attempt she certainly was not successful. An elderly gentleman -was brought up to her,--a gentleman whom she afterwards declared to -be a hundred, and who was, in truth, over forty, and with him she -manoeuvred gently through a quadrille. He asked her two or three -questions to which she was able to answer only in monosyllables. -Then he ceased his questions, and the manoeuvres were carried on in -perfect silence. Poor Ayala did not attribute any blame to the man. -It was all because she had been six months in Kingsbury Crescent. -Of course this aged gentleman, if he wanted to dance, would have a -partner chosen for him out of Kingsbury Crescent. Conversation was -not to be expected from a gentleman who was made to stand up with -Kingsbury Crescent. Any powers of talking that had ever belonged -to herself had of course evaporated amidst the gloom of Kingsbury -Crescent. After this she was returned speedily to the wings of the -Marchesa, and during the next dance sat in undisturbed peace. Then -suddenly, when the Marchesa had for a moment left her, and when Nina -had just been taken away to join a set, she saw the man of silence -coming to her from a distance, with an evident intention of asking -her to stand up again. It was in his eye, in his toe, as he came -bowing forward. He had evidently learned to suppose that they two -outcasts might lessen their miseries by joining them together. She -was to dance with him because no one else would ask her! She had -plucked up her spirit and resolved that, desolate as she might be, -she would not descend so far as that, when, in a moment, another -gentleman sprang in, as it were, between her and her enemy, and -addressed her with free and easy speech as though he had known her -all her life. "You are Ayala Dormer, I am sure," said he. She looked -up into his face and nodded her head at him in her own peculiar way. -She was quite sure that she had never set her eyes on him before. -He was so ugly that she could not have forgotten him. So at least -she told herself. He was very, very ugly, but his voice was very -pleasant. "I knew you were, and I am Jonathan Stubbs. So now we are -introduced, and you are to come and dance with me." - -She had heard the name of Jonathan Stubbs. She was sure of that, -although she could not at the moment join any facts with the name. -"But I don't know you," she said, hesitating. Though he was so ugly -he could not but be better than that ancient dancer whom she saw -standing at a distance, looking like a dog that has been deprived of -his bone. - -"Yes, you do," said Jonathan Stubbs, "and if you'll come and dance -I'll tell you about it. The Marchesa told me to take you." - -"Did she?" said Ayala, getting up, and putting her little hand upon -his arm. - -"I'll go and fetch her if you like; only she's a long way off, and we -shall lose our place. She's my aunt." - -"Oh," said Ayala, quite satisfied,--remembering now that she had -heard her friend Nina boast of a Colonel cousin, who was supposed -to be the youngest Colonel in the British army, who had done some -wonderful thing,--taken a new province in India, or marched across -Africa, or defended the Turks,--or perhaps conquered them. She knew -that he was very brave,--but why was he so very ugly? His hair was -ruby red, and very short; and he had a thick red beard: not silky, -but bristly, with each bristle almost a dagger,--and his mouth was -enormous. His eyes were very bright, and there was a smile about him, -partly of fun, partly of good humour. But his mouth! And then that -bristling beard! Ayala was half inclined to like him, because he -was so completely master of himself, so unlike the unhappy ancient -gentleman who was still hovering at a distance. But why was he so -ugly? And why was he called Jonathan Stubbs? - -"There now," he said, "we can't get in at any of the sets. That's -your fault." - -"No, it isn't," said Ayala. - -"Yes, it is. You wouldn't stand up till you had heard all about me." - -"I don't know anything about you now." - -"Then come and walk about and I'll tell you. Then we shall be ready -for a waltz. Do you waltz well?" - -"Do you?" - -"I'll back myself against any Englishman, Frenchman, German, or -Italian, for a large sum of money. I can't come quite up to the -Poles. The fact is, the honester the man is the worse he always -dances. Yes; I see what you mean. I must be a rogue. Perhaps I -am;--perhaps I'm only an exception. I knew your father." - -"Papa!" - -"Yes, I did. He was down at Stalham with the Alburys once. That was -five years ago, and he told me he had a daughter named Ayala. I -didn't quite believe him." - -"Why not?" - -"It is such an out-of-the-way name." - -"It's as good as Jonathan, at any rate." And Ayala again nodded her -head. - -"There's a prejudice about Jonathan, as there is about Jacob and -Jonah. I never could quite tell why. I was going to marry a girl once -with a hundred thousand pounds, and she wouldn't have me at last -because she couldn't bring her lips to say Jonathan. Do you think she -was right?" - -"Did she love you?" said Ayala, looking up into his face. - -"Awfully! But she couldn't bear the name; so within three months -she gave herself and all her money to Mr. Montgomery Talbot de -Montpellier. He got drunk, and threw her out of the window before a -month was over. That's what comes of going in for sweet names." - -"I don't believe a word of it," said Ayala. - -"Very well. Didn't Septimus Traffick marry your cousin?" - -"Of course he did, about a month ago." - -"He is another friend of mine. Why didn't you go to your cousin's -marriage?" - -"There were reasons," said Ayala. - -"I know all about it," said the Colonel. "You quarreled with Augusta -down in Scotland, and you don't like poor Traffick because he has got -a bald head." - -"I believe you're a conjuror," said Ayala. - -"And then your cousin was jealous because you went to the top of St. -Peter's, and because you would walk with Mr. Traffick on the Pincian. -I was in Rome, and saw all about it." - -"I won't have anything more to do with you," said Ayala. - -"And then you quarreled with one set of uncles and aunts, and now you -live with another." - -"Your aunt told you that." - -"And I know your cousin, Tom Tringle." - -"You know Tom?" asked Ayala. - -"Yes; he was ever so good to me in Rome about a horse; I like Tom -Tringle in spite of his chains. Don't you think, upon the whole, if -that young lady had put up with Jonathan she would have done better -than marry Montpellier? But now they're going to waltz, come along." - -Thereupon Ayala got up and danced with him for the next ten minutes. -Again and again before the evening was over she danced with him; -and although, in the course of the night, many other partners had -offered themselves, and many had been accepted, she felt that Colonel -Jonathan Stubbs had certainly been the partner of the evening. Why -should he be so hideously ugly? said Ayala to herself, as she wished -him good night before she left the room with the Marchesa and Nina. - -"What do you think of my nephew?" said the Marchesa, when they were -in the carriage together. - -"Do tell us what you think of Jonathan?" asked Nina. - -"I thought he was very good-natured." - -"And very handsome?" - -"Nina, don't be foolish. Jonathan is one of the most rising officers -in the British service, and luckily he can be that without being -beautiful to look at." - -"I declare," said Nina, "sometimes, when he is talking, I think him -perfectly lovely. The fire comes out of his eyes, and he rubs his old -red hairs about till they sparkle. Then he shines all over like a -carbuncle, and every word he says makes me die of laughter." - -"I laughed too," said Ayala. - -"But you didn't think him beautiful," said Nina. - -"No, I did not," said Ayala. "I liked him very much, but I thought -him very ugly. Was it true about the young lady who married Mr. -Montgomery de Montpellier and was thrown out of window a week -afterwards?" - -"There is one other thing I must tell you about Jonathan," said Nina. -"You must not believe a word that he says." - -"That I deny," said the Marchesa; "but here we are. And now, girls, -get out of the carriage and go up to bed at once." - -Ayala, before she went to sleep, and again when she woke in the -morning, thought a great deal about her new friend. As to shining -like a carbuncle,--perhaps he did, but that was not her idea of manly -beauty. And hair ought not to sparkle. She was sure that Colonel -Stubbs was very, very ugly. She was almost disposed to think that he -was the ugliest man she had ever seen. He certainly was a great deal -worse than her cousin Tom, who, after all, was not particularly ugly. -But, nevertheless, she would very much rather dance with Colonel -Stubbs. She was sure of that, even without reference to Tom's -objectionable love-making. Upon the whole she liked dancing with -Colonel Stubbs, ugly as he was. Indeed, she liked him very much. She -had spent a very pleasant evening because he had been there. "It -all depends upon whether any one has anything to say." That was the -determination to which she came when she endeavoured to explain -to herself how it had come to pass that she had liked dancing -with anybody so very hideous. The Angel of Light would of course -have plenty to say for himself, and would be something altogether -different in appearance. He would be handsome,--or rather, intensely -interesting, and his talk would be of other things. He would not -say of himself that he danced as well as though he were a rogue, or -declare that a lady had been thrown out of a window the week after -she was married. Nothing could be more unlike an Angel of Light -than Colonel Stubbs,--unless, perhaps, it were Tom Tringle. Colonel -Stubbs, however, was completely unangelic,--so much so that the -marvel was that he should yet be so pleasant. She had no horror of -Colonel Stubbs at all. She would go anywhere with Colonel Stubbs, and -feel herself to be quite safe. She hoped she might meet him again -very often. He was, as it were, the Genius of Comedy, without a touch -of which life would be very dull. But the Angel of Light must have -something tragic in his composition,--must verge, at any rate, on -tragedy. Ayala did not know that beautiful description of a "Sallow, -sublime, sort of Werther-faced man," but I fear that in creating her -Angel of Light she drew a picture in her imagination of a man of that -kind. - -Days went on, till the last day of Ayala's visit had come, and it was -necessary that she should go back to Kingsbury Crescent. It was now -August, and everybody was leaving town. The Marchesa and Nina were -going to their relations, the Alburys, at Stalham, and could not, -of course, take Ayala with them. The Dosetts would remain in town -for another month, with a distant hope of being able to run down to -Pegwell Bay for a fortnight in September. But even that had not yet -been promised. Colonel Stubbs had been more than once at the house in -Brook Street, and Ayala had come to know him almost as she might some -great tame dog. It was now the afternoon of the last day, and she was -sorry because she would not be able to see him again. She was to be -taken to the theatre that night,--and then to Kingsbury Crescent and -the realms of Lethe early on the following morning. - -It was very hot, and they were sitting with the shutters nearly -closed, having resolved not to go out, in order that they might be -ready for the theatre--when the door was opened and Tom Tringle was -announced. Tom Tringle had come to call on his cousin. - -"Lady Baldoni," he said, "I hope you won't think me intrusive, but I -thought I'd come and see my cousin once whilst she is staying here." -The Marchesa bowed, and assured him that he was very welcome. "It's -tremendously hot," said Tom. - -"Very hot, indeed," said the Marchesa. - -"I don't think it's ever so hot as this in Rome," said Nina, fanning -herself. - -"I find it quite impossible to walk a yard," said Tom, "and therefore -I've hired a Hansom cab all to myself. The man goes home and changes -his horse regularly when I go to dinner; then he comes for me at ten, -and sticks to me till I go to bed. I call that a very good plan." -Nina asked him why he didn't drive the cab himself. "That would be a -grind," said he, "because it would be so hot all day, and there might -be rain at night. Have you read what my brother-in-law, Traffick, -said in the House last night, my Lady?" - -"I'm afraid I passed it over," said the Marchesa. "Indeed, I am not -very good at the debates." - -"They are dull," said Tom, "but when it's one's brother-in-law, one -does like to look at it. I thought he made that very clear about the -malt tax." The Marchesa smiled and bowed. - -"What is--malt tax?" asked Nina. - -"Well, it means beer," said Tom. "The question is whether the poor -man pays it who drinks the beer, or the farmer who grows the malt. It -is very interesting when you come to think of it." - -"But I fear I never have come to think of it," said the Marchesa. - -During all this time Ayala never said a word, but sat looking at her -cousin, and remembering how much better Colonel Jonathan Stubbs would -have talked if he had been there. Then, after a pause, Tom got up, -and took his leave, having to content himself with simply squeezing -his cousin's hand as he left the room. - -"He is a lout," said Ayala, as soon as she knew that the door was -closed behind him. - -"I don't see anything loutish at all," said the Marchesa. - -"He's just like most other young men," said Nina. - -"He's not at all like Colonel Stubbs," said Ayala. - -Then the Marchesa preached a little sermon. "Colonel Stubbs, my -dear," she said, "happens to have been thrown a good deal about the -world, and has thus been able to pick up that easy mode of talking -which young ladies like, perhaps because it means nothing. Your -cousin is a man of business, and will probably have amassed a large -fortune when my poor nephew will be a do-nothing old general on -half-pay. His chatter will not then have availed him quite so much as -your cousin's habits of business." - -"Mamma," said Nina, "Jonathan will have money of his own." - -"Never mind, my dear. I do not like to hear a young man called a lout -because he's more like a man of business than a man of pleasure." -Ayala felt herself to be snubbed, but was not a whit the less sure -that Tom was a lout, and the Colonel an agreeable partner to dance -with. But at the same time she remembered that neither the one nor -the other was to be spoken of in the same breath, or thought of in -the same spirit, as the Angel of Light. - -When they were dressed, and just going to dinner, the ugly man with -the red head was announced, and declared his purpose of going with -them to the theatre. "I've been to the office," said he, "and got a -stall next to yours, and have managed it all. It now only remains -that you should give me some dinner and a seat in the carriage." Of -course he was told that there was no dinner sufficient for a man to -eat; but he put up with a feminine repast, and spent the whole of the -evening sitting next to his aunt, on a back tier, while the two girls -were placed in front. In this way, leaning forward, with his ugly -head between them, he acted as a running chorus to the play during -the whole performance. Ayala thoroughly enjoyed herself, and thought -that in all her experience no play she'd seen had ever been so -delightful. On their return home the two girls were both told to -go to bed in the Marchesa's good-natured authoritative tone; but, -nevertheless, Ayala did manage to say a word before she finally -adjusted herself on her pillow. "It is all very well, Nina, for your -mamma to say that a young man of business is the best; but I do know -a lout when I see him; and I am quite sure that my cousin Tom is a -lout, and that Colonel Jonathan is not." - -"I believe you are falling in love with Colonel Jonathan," said Nina. - -"I should as soon think of falling in love with a wild bear;--but -he's not a lout, and therefore I like him." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -LUCY IS VERY FIRM. - - -It was just before the Tringles had returned from Rome, during the -winter, that Lucy Dormer had met Mr. Hamel in Kensington Gardens for -the second time, had walked there with him perhaps for half-an-hour, -and had then returned home with a conviction that she had done a -wicked thing. But she had other convictions also, which were perhaps -stronger. "Now that we have met, am I to lose you again?" he had -said. What could he mean by losing, except that she was the one thing -which he desired to find? But she had not seen him since, or heard a -word of his whereabouts, although, as she so well remembered, she had -given him an address at her Aunt Emmeline's,--not knowing then that -it would be her fate to become a resident in her Aunt Emmeline's -house. She had told him that Ayala would live there, and that perhaps -she might sometimes be found visiting Ayala. Now, she was herself -filling Ayala's place, and might so easily have been found. But she -knew nothing of the man who had once asked whether he was "to lose -her again." - -Her own feelings about Isadore Hamel were clear enough to herself -now. Ayala in her hot humour had asked her whether she could give her -hand and her heart to such a one as their cousin Tom, and she had -found herself constrained to say that she could not do so, because -she was not free,--not quite free,--to do as she pleased with her -hand and her heart. She had striven hard not to acknowledge anything, -even to Ayala,--even to herself. But the words had been forced -from her, and now she was conscious, terribly conscious, that the -words were true. There could be no one else now, whether Tom or -another,--whether such as Tom or such as any other. It was just that -little word that had won her. "Am I to lose you again?" A girl loves -most often because she is loved,--not from choice on her part. She is -won by the flattery of the man's desire. "Am I to lose you again?" He -had seemed to throw all his soul into his voice and into his eyes as -he had asked the question. A sudden thrill had filled her, and, for -his sake,--for his sake,--she had hoped that she might not be lost to -him. Now she began to fear that he was lost to her. - -Something has been told of the relations between Isadore Hamel and -his father. They were both sculptors, the father having become a -successful artist. The father was liberal, but he was essentially -autocratic. If he supplied to his son the means of living,--and -he was willing to supply the means of very comfortable life,--he -expected that his son should live to some extent in accordance with -his fancies. The father wished his son to live in Rome, and to live -after the manner of Romans. Isadore would prefer to live in London, -and after the manner of Londoners. For a time he had been allowed to -do so, and had achieved a moderate success. But a young artist may -achieve a moderate success with a pecuniary result that shall be -almost less than moderate. After a while the sculptor in Rome had -told his son that if he intended to remain in London he ought to do -so on the independent proceeds of his own profession. Isadore, if -he would return to Rome, would be made welcome to join his affairs -to those of his father. In other words, he was to be turned adrift -if he remained in London, and petted with every luxury if he would -consent to follow his art in Italy. But in Rome the father lived -after a fashion which was distasteful to the son. Old Mr. Hamel had -repudiated all conventions. Conventions are apt to go very quickly, -one after another, when the first has been thrown aside. The man who -ceases to dress for dinner soon finds it to be a trouble to wash his -hands. A house is a bore. Calling is a bore. Church is a great bore. -A family is a bore. A wife is an unendurable bore. All laws are -bores, except those by which inferiors can be constrained to do their -work. Mr. Hamel had got rid of a great many bores, and had a strong -opinion that bores prevailed more mightily in London than in Rome. -Isadore was not a bore to him. He was always willing to have Isadore -near to him. But if Isadore chose to enter the conventional mode of -life he must do it at his own expense. It may be said at once that -Isadore's present view of life was very much influenced by Lucy -Dormer, and by a feeling that she certainly was conventional. A small -house, very prettily furnished, somewhat near the Fulham Road, or -perhaps verging a little towards South Kensington, with two maids, -and perhaps an additional one as nurse in the process of some months, -with a pleasant English breakfast and a pleasant English teapot in -the evening, afforded certainly a very conventional aspect of life. -But, at the present moment, it was his aspect, and therefore he could -not go upon all fours with his father. In this state of things there -had, during the last twelvemonth, been more than one journey made -to Rome and back. Ayala had seen him at Rome, and Lady Tringle, -remembering that the man had been intimate with her brother, was -afraid of him. They had made inquiry about him, and had fully -resolved that he should not be allowed into the house if he came -after Ayala. He had no mother,--to speak of; and he had little -brothers and sisters, who also had no mother,--to speak of. Mr. -Hamel, the father, entertained friends on Sunday, with the express -object of playing cards. That a Papist should do so was to be -borne;--but Mr. Hamel was not a Papist, and, therefore, would -certainly be ----. All this and much more had been learned at Rome, -and therefore Lucy, though she herself never mentioned Mr. Hamel's -name in Queen's Gate, heard evil things said of the man who was so -dear to her. - -It was the custom of her life to be driven out every day with her -aunt and Gertrude. Not to be taken two or three times round the -park would be to Lady Tringle to rob her of the best appreciated of -all those gifts of fortune which had come to her by reason of the -banker's wealth. It was a stern law;--and as stern a law that Lucy -should accompany her. Gertrude, as being an absolute daughter of -the house, and as having an almost acknowledged lover of her own, -was allowed some choice. But for Lucy there was no alternative. Why -should she not go and be driven? Two days before they left town she -was being driven, while her aunt was sitting almost in a slumber -beside her, when suddenly a young man, leaning over the railings, -took off his hat so close to Lucy that she could almost have put out -her hand to him. He was standing there all alone, and seemed simply -to be watching the carriages as they passed. She felt that she -blushed as she bowed to him, and saw also that the colour had risen -to his face. Then she turned gently round to her aunt, whom she hoped -to find still sleeping; but Aunt Emmeline could slumber with one eye -open. "Who was that young man, my dear?" said Aunt Emmeline. - -"It was Mr. Hamel." - -"Mr. Isadore Hamel!" said Aunt Emmeline, horrified. "Is that the -young man at Rome who has got the horrible father?" - -"I do not know his father," said Lucy; "but he does live at Rome." - -"Of course, it's the Mr. Hamel I mean. He scraped some acquaintance -with Ayala, but I would not have it for a moment. He is not at all -the sort of person any young girl ought to know. His father is a -horrible man. I hope he is no friend of yours, Lucy!" - -"He is a friend of mine." Lucy said this in a tone of voice which was -very seldom heard from her, but which, when heard, was evidence that -beneath the softness of her general manner there lay a will of her -own. - -"Then, my dear, I hope that such friendship may be discontinued as -long as you remain with us." - -"He was a friend of papa's," said Lucy. - -"That's all very well. I suppose artists must know artists, even -though they are disreputable." - -"Mr. Hamel is not disreputable." - -Aunt Emmeline, as she heard this, could almost fancy that she -was renewing one of her difficulties with Ayala. "My dear," she -said,--and she intended to be very impressive as she spoke,--"in -a matter such as this I must beg you to be guided by me. You must -acknowledge that I know the world better than you do. Mr. Hamel is -not a fit person to be acquainted with a young lady who occupies the -place of my daughter. I am sure that will be sufficient." Then she -leant back in the carriage, and seemed again to slumber; but she -still had one eye open, so that if Mr. Hamel should appear again at -any corner and venture to raise his hand she might be aware of the -impropriety. But on that day Mr. Hamel did not appear again. - -Lucy did not speak another word during the drive, and on reaching -the house went at once to her bed-room. While she had been out with -her aunt close to her, and while it had been possible that the man -she loved should appear again, she had been unable to collect her -thoughts or to make up her mind what she would do or say. One thing -simply was certain to her, that if Mr. Hamel should present himself -again to her she would not desert him. All that her aunt had said to -her as to improprieties and the like had no effect at all upon her. -The man had been welcomed at her father's house, had been allowed -there to be intimate with her, and was now, as she was well aware, -much dearer to her than any other human being. Not for all the Aunt -Emmelines in the world would she regard him otherwise than as her -dearest friend. - -When she was alone she discussed the matter with herself. It was -repugnant to her that there should be any secret on the subject -between herself and her aunt after what had been said,--much more -that there should be any deceit. "Mr. Hamel is not fit to be -acquainted with a lady who occupies the position of my daughter." It -was thus that her aunt had spoken. To this the proper answer seemed -to be,--seemed at least to Lucy,--"In that case, my dear aunt, I -cannot for a moment longer occupy the position of your daughter, -as I certainly am acquainted and shall remain acquainted with Mr. -Hamel." But to such speech as this on her own part there were two -impediments. In the first place it would imply that Mr. Hamel was her -lover,--for implying which Mr. Hamel had given her no authority; and -then what should she immediately do when she had thus obstinately -declared herself to be unfit for that daughter's position which she -was supposed now to occupy? With all her firmness of determination -she could not bring herself to tell her aunt that Mr. Hamel was her -lover. Not because it was not as yet true. She would have been quite -willing that her aunt should know the exact truth, if the exact -truth could be explained. But how could she convey to such a one -as Aunt Emmeline the meaning of those words,--"Am I to lose you -again?" How could she make her aunt understand that she held herself -to be absolutely bound, as by a marriage vow, by such words as -those,--words in which there was no promise, even had they come from -some fitting suitor, but which would be regarded by Aunt Emmeline -as being simply impertinent coming as they did from such a one as -Isadore Hamel. It was quite out of the question to tell all that to -Aunt Emmeline, but yet it was necessary that something should be -told. She had been ordered to drop her acquaintance with Isadore, and -it was essential that she should declare that she would do nothing -of the kind. She would not recognise such obedience as a duty on her -part. The friendship had been created by her father, to whom her -earlier obedience had been due. It might be that, refusing to render -such obedience, her aunt and her uncle might tell her that there -could be no longer shelter for her in that house. They could not -cherish and foster a disobedient child. If it must be so, it must. -Though there should be no home left to her in all the wide world she -would not accept an order which should separate her from the man -she loved. She must simply tell her aunt that she could not drop Mr. -Hamel's acquaintance,--because Mr. Hamel was a friend. - -Early on the next morning she did so. "Are you aware," said Aunt -Emmeline, with a severe face, "that he is--illegitimate." Lucy -blushed, but made no answer. "Is he--is he--engaged to you?" - -"No," said Lucy, sharply. - -"Has he asked you to marry him?" - -"No," said Lucy. - -"Then what is it?" asked Lady Tringle, in a tone which was intended -to signify that as nothing of that kind had taken place such a -friendship could be a matter of no consequence. - -"He was papa's friend." - -"My dear, what can that matter? Your poor papa has gone, and you are -in my charge and your uncle's. Surely you cannot object to choose -your friends as we should wish. Mr. Hamel is a gentleman of whom we -do not approve. You cannot have seen very much of him, and it would -be very easy for you, should he bow to you again in the park, to let -him see that you do not like it." - -"But I do like it," said Lucy, with energy. - -"Lucy!" - -"I do like to see Mr. Hamel, and I feel almost sure that he will come -and call here now that he has seen me. Last winter he asked me my -address, and I gave him this house." - -"When you were living with your Aunt Dosett?" - -"Yes, I did, Aunt Emmeline. I thought Aunt Margaret would not like -him to come to Kingsbury Crescent, and, as Ayala was to be here, I -told him he might call at Queen's Gate." - -Then Lady Tringle was really angry. It was not only that her house -should have been selected for so improper a use but that Lucy should -have shown a fear and a respect for Mrs. Dosett which had not been -accorded to herself. It was shocking to her pride that that should -have appeared to be easy of achievement at Queen's Gate which was -too wicked to be attempted at Kingsbury Crescent. And then the thing -which had been done seemed in itself to her to be so horrible! This -girl, when living under the care of her aunt, had made an appointment -with an improper young man at the house of another aunt! Any -appointment made by a young lady with a young man must, as she -thought, be wrong. She began to be aghast at the very nature of the -girl who could do such a thing, and on reflecting that that girl was -at present under her charge as an adopted daughter. "Lucy," she said, -very impressively, "there must be an end of this." - -"There cannot be an end of it," said Lucy. - -"Do you mean to say that he is to come here to this house whether I -and your uncle like it or not?" - -"He will come," said Lucy; "I am sure he will come. Now he has seen -me he will come at once." - -"Why should he do that if he is not your lover?" - -"Because," said Lucy,--and then she paused; "because--. It is very -hard to tell you, Aunt Emmeline." - -"Why should he come so quickly?" demanded Aunt Emmeline again. - -"Because--. Though he has said nothing to me such as that you mean," -stammered out Lucy, determined to tell the whole truth, "I believe -that he will." - -"And you?" - -"If he did I should accept him." - -"Has he any means?" - -"I do not know." - -"Have you any?" - -"Certainly not." - -"And you would consent to be his wife after what I've told you?" - -"Yes," said Lucy, "I should." - -"Then it must not be in this house. That is all. I will not have him -here on any pretence whatsoever." - -"I thought not, Aunt Emmeline, and therefore I have told you." - -"Do you mean that you will make an appointment with him elsewhere?" - -"Certainly not. I have not in fact ever made an appointment with him. -I do not know his address. Till yesterday I thought that he was in -Rome. I never had a line from him in my life, and of course have -never written to him." Upon hearing all this Lady Tringle sat in -silence, not quite knowing how to carry on the conversation. The -condition of Lucy's mind was so strange to her, that she felt herself -to be incompetent to dictate. She could only resolve that under no -circumstances should the objectionable man be allowed into her house. -"Now, Aunt Emmeline," said Lucy, "I have told you everything. Of -course you have a right to order, but I also have some right. You -told me I was to drop Mr. Hamel, but I cannot drop him. If he comes -in my way I certainly shall not drop him. If he comes here I shall -see him if I can. If you and Uncle Tom choose to turn me out of -course you can do so." - -"I shall tell your uncle all about it," said Aunt Emmeline, angrily, -"and then you will hear what he says." And so the conversation was -ended. - -At that moment Sir Thomas was, of course, in the City managing his -millions, and as Lucy herself had suggested that Mr. Hamel might not -improbably call on that very day, and as she was quite determined -that Mr. Hamel should not enter the doors of the house in Queen's -Gate, it was necessary that steps should be taken at once. Some hours -afterwards Mr. Hamel did call and asked for Miss Dormer. The door was -opened by a well-appointed footman, who, with lugubrious face,--with -a face which spoke much more eloquently than his words,--declared -that Miss Dormer was not at home. In answer to further inquiries he -went on to express an opinion that Miss Dormer never would be at -home;--from all which it may be seen that Aunt Emmeline had taken -strong measures to carry out her purpose. Hamel, when he heard his -fate thus plainly spoken from the man's mouth, turned away, not -doubting its meaning. He had seen Lucy's face in the park, and had -seen also Lady Tringle's gesture after his greeting. That Lady -Tringle should not be disposed to receive him at her house was not -matter of surprise to him. - -When Lucy went to bed that night she did not doubt that Mr. Hamel had -called, and that he had been turned away from the door. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -DOWN IN SCOTLAND. - - -When the time came, all the Tringles, together with the Honourable -Mrs. Traffick, started for Glenbogie. Aunt Emmeline had told Sir -Thomas all Lucy's sins, but Sir Thomas had not made so much of them -as his wife had expected. "It wouldn't be a bad thing to have a -husband for Lucy," said Sir Thomas. - -"But the man hasn't got a sixpence." - -"He has a profession." - -"I don't know that he makes anything. And then think of his father! -He is--illegitimate!" Sir Thomas seemed rather to sneer at this. "And -if you knew the way the old man lives in Rome! He plays cards all -Sunday!" Again Sir Thomas sneered. Sir Thomas was fairly submissive -to the conventionalities himself, but did not think that they ought -to stand in the way of a provision for a young lady who had no -provision of her own. "You wouldn't wish to have him at Queen's -Gate?" asked Lady Tringle. - -"Certainly not, if he makes nothing by his profession. A good deal, -I think, depends upon that." Then nothing further was said, but Lucy -was not told her uncle's opinion on the matter, as had been promised. -When she went down to Glenbogie she only knew that Mr. Hamel was -considered to be by far too black a sheep to be admitted into her -aunt's presence, and that she must regard herself as separated from -the man as far as any separation could be effected by her present -protectors. But if he would be true to her, as to a girl whom he had -a short time since so keenly rejoiced in "finding again," she was -quite sure that she could be true to him. - -On the day fixed, the 20th of August, Mr. Houston arrived at -Glenbogie, with boots and stockings and ammunition, such as Tom -had recommended when interrogated on those matters by his sister, -Gertrude. "I travelled down with a man I think you know," he said to -Lucy;--"at any rate your sister does, because I saw him with her at -Rome." The man turned out to be Isadore Hamel. "I didn't like to ask -him whether he was coming here," said Frank Houston. - -"No; he is not coming here," said Aunt Emmeline. - -"Certainly not," said Gertrude, who was quite prepared to take up the -cudgels on her mother's behalf against Mr. Hamel. - -"He said something about another man he used to know at Rome, before -you came. He was a nephew of that Marchesa Baldoni." - -"She was a lady we didn't like a bit too well," said Gertrude. - -"A very stuck-up sort of person, who did all she could to spoil -Ayala," said Aunt Emmeline. - -"Ayala has just been staying with her," said Lucy. "She has been very -kind to Ayala." - -"We have nothing to do with that now," said Aunt Emmeline. "Ayala can -stay with whom she and her aunt pleases. Is this Mr. Hamel, whom you -saw, a friend of the Marchesa's?" - -"He seemed to be a friend of the Marchesa's nephew," continued -Houston;--"one Colonel Stubbs. We used to see him at Rome, and a most -curious man he is. His name is Jonathan, and I don't suppose that any -man was ever seen so red before. He is shooting somewhere, and Hamel -seems to be going to join him. I thought he might have been coming -here afterwards, as you all were in Rome together." - -"Certainly he is not coming here," said Aunt Emmeline. "And as for -Colonel Stubbs, I never heard of him before." - -A week of the time allotted to Frank Houston had gone before he had -repeated a word of his suit to Sir Thomas. But with Gertrude every -opportunity had been allowed him, and by the rest of the family they -had been regarded as though they were engaged. Mr. Traffick, who was -now at Glenbogie, in accordance with the compact made with him, did -not at first approve of Frank Houston. He had insinuated to Lady -Tringle, and had said very plainly to Augusta, that he regarded a -young man, without any employment and without any income, as being -quite unfit to marry. "If he had a seat in the House it would be -quite a different thing," he had said to Augusta. But his wife had -snubbed him; telling him, almost in so many words, that if Gertrude -was determined to have her way in opposition to her father she -certainly would not be deterred by her brother-in-law. "It's nothing -to me," Mr. Traffick had then said; "the money won't come out of my -pocket; but when a man has nothing else to do he is sure to spend all -that he can lay his hands upon." After that, however, he withdrew -his opposition, and allowed it to be supposed that he was ready to -receive Frank Houston as his brother-in-law, should it be so decided. - -The time was running by both with Houston, the expectant son-in-law, -and with Mr. Traffick, who had achieved his position, and both were -aware that no grace would be allowed to them beyond that which had -been promised. Frank had fully considered the matter, and was quite -resolved that it would be unmanly in him to run after his cousin -Imogene, in the Tyrol, before he had performed his business. One -day, therefore, after having returned from the daily allowance of -slaughter, he contrived to find Sir Thomas in the solitude of his own -room, and again began to act the part of Allan-a-Dale. "I thought, -Mr. Houston," said Sir Thomas, "that we had settled that matter -before." - -"Not quite," said Houston. - -"I don't know why you should say so. I intended to be understood as -expressing my mind." - -"But you have been good enough to ask me down here." - -"I may ask a man to my house, I suppose, without intending to give -him my daughter's hand." Then he again asked the important question, -to which Allan-a-Dale's answer was so unreasonable and so successful. -"Have you an income on which to maintain my daughter?" - -"I cannot just say that I have, Sir Thomas," said Houston, -apologetically. - -"Then you mean to ask me to furnish you with an income." - -"You can do as you please about that, Sir Thomas." - -"You can hardly marry her without it." - -"Well; no; not altogether. No doubt it is true that I should not have -proposed myself had I not thought that the young lady would have -something of her own." - -"But she has nothing of her own," said Sir Thomas. And then that -interview was over. - -"You won't throw us over, Lady Tringle?" Houston said to Gertrude's -mother that evening. - -"Sir Thomas likes to have his own way," said Lady Tringle. - -"Somebody got round him about Septimus Traffick." - -"That was different," said Lady Tringle. "Mr. Traffick is in -Parliament, and that gives him an employment. He is a son of Lord -Boardotrade, and some of these days he will be in office." - -"Of course, you know that if Gertrude sticks to it she will have her -own way. When a girl sticks to it her father has to give way. What -does it matter to him whether I have any business or not? The money -would be the same in one case as the other, only it does seem such an -unnecessary trouble to have it put off." - -All this Lady Tringle seemed to take in good part, and half -acknowledged that if Frank Houston were constant in the matter he -would succeed at last. Gertrude, when the time for his departure -had come, expressed herself as thoroughly disgusted by her father's -sternness. "It's all bosh," she said to her lover. "Who is Lord -Boardotrade that that should make a difference? I have as much right -to please myself as Augusta." But there was the stern fact that the -money had not been promised, and even Frank had not proposed to marry -the girl of his heart without the concomitant thousands. - -Before he left Glenbogie, on the evening of his departure, he wrote a -second letter to Miss Docimer, as follows;-- - - - DEAR COUSIN IM, - - Here I am at Glenbogie, and here I have been for a week, - without doing a stroke of work. The father still asks "of - his house and his home," and does not seem to be at all - affected by my reference to the romantic grandeur of my - own peculiar residence. Perhaps I may boast so far as to - say that I have laughed on the lass as successfully as did - Allan-a-Dale. But what's the good of laughing on a lass - when one has got nothing to eat. Allan-a-Dale could pick - a pocket or cut a purse, accomplishments in which I am - altogether deficient. I suppose I shall succeed sooner or - later, but when I put my neck into the collar I had no - idea that there would be so much up-hill work before me. - It is all very well joking, but it is not nice to be asked - "of your house and your home" by a gentleman who knows - very well you've got none, and is conscious of inhabiting - three or four palaces himself. Such treatment must be - described as being decidedly vulgar. And then he must know - that it can be of no possible permanent use. The ladies - are all on my side, but I am told by Tringle mere that - I am less acceptable than old Traffick, who married the - other girl, because I'm not the son of Lord Boardotrade! - Nothing astonishes me so much as the bad taste of some - people. Now, it must all be put off till Christmas, and - the cruel part is, that one doesn't see how I'm to go on - living. - - In the meantime I have a little time in which to amuse - myself, and I shall turn up in about three weeks at Merle - Park. I wish chiefly to beg that you will not dissuade me - from what I see clearly to be a duty. I know exactly your - line of argument. Following a girl for her money is, you - will say, mercenary. So, as far as I can see, is every - transaction in the world by which men live. The judges, - the bishops, the poets, the Royal academicians, and the - Prime Ministers, are all mercenary;--as is also the man - who breaks stones for 2_s._ 6_d._ a-day. How shall a man - live without being mercenary unless he be born to fortune? - Are not girls always mercenary? Will she marry me knowing - that I have nothing? Will you not marry some one whom - you will probably like much less simply because he will - have something for you to eat and drink? Of course I - am mercenary, and I don't even pretend to old Tringle - that I am not so. I feel a little tired of this special - effort;--but if I were to abandon it I should simply have - to begin again elsewhere. I have sighted my stag, and - I must go on following him, trying to get on the right - side of the wind till I bring him down. It is not nice, - but it is to me manifestly my duty,--and I shall do it. - Therefore, do not let there be any blowing up. I hate to - be scolded. - - Yours always affectionately, - - F. H. - - -Gertrude, when he was gone, did not take the matter quite so quietly -as he did, feeling that, as she had made up her mind, and as all -her world would know that she had made up her mind, it behoved her -to carry her purpose to its desired end. A girl who is known to -be engaged, but whose engagement is not allowed, is always in a -disagreeable plight. - -"Mamma," she said, "I think that papa is not treating me well." - -"My dear, your papa has always had his own way." - -"That is all very well;--but why am I to be worse used than Augusta? -It turns out now that Mr. Traffick has not got a shilling of his -own." - -"Your papa likes his being in Parliament." - -"All the girls can't marry Members of Parliament." - -"And he likes his being the son of Lord Boardotrade." - -"Lord Boardotrade! I call that very mean. Mr. Houston is a gentleman, -and the Buncombe property has been for ever so many hundreds of years -in the family. I think more of Frank as to birth and all that than I -do of Lord Boardotrade and his mushroom peerage. Can't you tell papa -that I mean to marry Mr. Houston at last, and that he is making very -little of me to let me be talked about as I shall be?" - -"I don't think I can, Gertrude." - -"Then I shall. What would he say if I were to run away with Frank?" - -"I don't think Frank Houston would do that." - -"He would if I told him,--in a moment." There Miss Tringle was -probably in error. "And unless papa consents I shall tell him. I am -not going to be made miserable for ever." - -This was at Glenbogie, in Inverness-shire, on the southeastern side -of Loch Ness, where Sir Thomas Tringle possessed a beautiful mansion, -with a deer-forest, and a waterfall of his own, and any amount of -moors which the minds of sportmen could conceive. Nothing in Scotland -could be more excellent, unless there might be some truth in the -remarks of those who said that the grouse were scarce, and that the -deer were almost non-existent. On the other side of the lake, four -miles up from the gates, on the edge of a ravine, down which rushed -a little stream called the Caller, was an inconvenient ricketty -cottage, built piecemeal at two or three different times, called -Drumcaller. From one room you went into another, and from that into -a third. To get from the sitting-room, which was called the parlour, -into another which was called the den, you had to pass through the -kitchen, or else to make communication by a covered passage out of -doors which seemed to hang over the margin of the ravine. Pine-trees -enveloped the place. Looking at the house from the outside any -one would declare it to be wet through. It certainly could not -with truth be described as a comfortable family residence. But you -might, perhaps, travel through all Scotland without finding a more -beautifully romantic spot in which to reside. From that passage, -which seemed to totter suspended over the rocks, whence the tumbling -rushing waters could always be heard like music close at hand, the -view down over the little twisting river was such as filled the mind -with a conviction of realised poetry. Behind the house across the -little garden there was a high rock where a little path had been -formed, from which could be seen the whole valley of the Caller and -the broad shining expanse of the lake beyond. Those who knew the -cottage of Drumcaller were apt to say that no man in Scotland had a -more picturesque abode, or one more inconvenient. Even bread had to -be carried up from Callerfoot, as was called the little village down -on the lake side, and other provisions, such even as meat, had to be -fetched twenty miles, from the town of Inverness. - -A few days after the departure of Houston from Glenbogie two men -were seated with pipes in their mouths on the landing outside the -room called the den to which the passage from the parlour ran. Here -a square platform had been constructed capable of containing two -arm-chairs, and here the owner of the cottage was accustomed to sit, -when he was disposed, as he called it, to loaf away his time at -Drumcaller. This man was Colonel Jonathan Stubbs, and his companion -at the present moment was Isadore Hamel. - -"I never knew them in Rome," said the Colonel. "I never even saw -Ayala there, though she was so much at my aunt's house. I was in -Sicily part of the time, and did not get back till they had all -quarrelled. I did know the nephew, who was a good-natured but a -vulgar young man. They are vulgar people, I should say." - -"You could hardly have found Ayala vulgar?" asked Hamel. - -"Indeed, no. But uncles and aunts and nephews and nieces are not at -all bound to run together. Ayala is the daintiest little darling I -ever saw." - -"I knew their father and mother, and certainly no one would have -called them vulgar." - -"Sisters when they marry of course go off according to their -husbands, and the children follow. In this case one sister became -Tringlish after Sir Tringle, and the other Dormerish, after that most -improvident of human beings, your late friend the artist. I don't -suppose any amount of experience will teach Ayala how many shillings -there are in a pound. No doubt the Honourable Mrs. Traffick knows all -about it." - -"I don't think a girl is much improved by knowing how many shillings -there are in a pound," said Hamel. - -"It is useful sometimes." - -"So it might be to kill a sheep and skin it, or to milk a cow and -make cheese; but here, as in other things, one acquirement will drive -out others. A woman, if she cannot be beautiful, should at any rate -be graceful, and if she cannot soar to poetry, should at least be -soft and unworldly." - -"That's all very well in its way, but I go in for roasting, baking, -and boiling. - - I can bake and I can brew; - I can make an Irish stew; - Wash a shirt and iron it too. - -That's the sort of girl I mean to go in for if ever I marry; and -when you've got six children and a small income it's apt to turn out -better than grace and poetry." - -"A little of both perhaps," said Hamel. - -"Well, yes; I don't mind a little Byron now and again, so there is -no nonsense. As to Glenbogie, it's right over there across the lake. -You can get a boat at Callerfoot, and a fellow to take you across and -wait for you won't cost you more than three half-crowns. I suppose -Glenbogie is as far from the lake on that side as my cottage is on -this. How you'll get up except by walking I cannot say, unless you -will write a note to Sir Thomas and ask him to send a horse down for -you." - -"Sir Thomas would not accommodate me." - -"You think he will frown if you come after his niece?" - -"I simply want to call on Miss Dormer," said Hamel, blushing, -"because her father was always kind to me." - -"I don't mean to ask any questions," said the Colonel. - -"It is just so as I say. I do not like being in the neighbourhood -without calling on Miss Dormer." - -"I daresay not." - -"But I doubt whether Sir Thomas or Lady Tringle would be at all -inclined to make me welcome. As to the distance, I can walk that -easily enough, and if the door is slammed in my face I can walk back -again." - -Thus it was resolved that early on the following morning after -breakfast Isadore Hamel should go across the lake and make his way up -to Glenbogie. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -ISADORE HAMEL IS ASKED TO LUNCH. - - -On the following morning, the morning of Monday, 2nd September, -Isadore Hamel started on his journey. He had thought much about the -journey before he made it. No doubt the door had been slammed in his -face in London. He felt quite conscious of that, and conscious also -that a man should not renew his attempt to enter a door when it has -been once slammed in his face. But he understood the circumstances -nearly as they had happened,--except that he was not aware how far -the door had been slammed by Lady Tringle without any concurrence -on the part of Sir Thomas. But the door had, at any rate, not been -slammed by Lucy. The only person he had really wished to see within -that house had been Lucy Dormer; and he had hitherto no reason for -supposing that she would be unwilling to receive him. Her face had -been sweet and gracious when she saw him in the Park. Was he to deny -himself all hope of any future intercourse with her because Lady -Tringle had chosen to despise him? He must make some attempt. It was -more than probable, no doubt, that this attempt would be futile. -The servant at Glenbogie would probably be as well instructed as -the servant in Queen's Gate. But still a man has to go on and do -something, if he means to do anything. There could be no good in -sitting up at Drumcaller, at one side of the lake, and thinking of -Lucy Dormer far away, at the other side. He had not at all made up -his mind that he would ask Lucy to be his wife. His professional -income was still poor, and she, as he was aware, had nothing. But -he felt it to be incumbent upon him to get nearer to her if it were -possible, and to say something to her if the privilege of speech -should be accorded to him. - -He walked down to Callerfoot, refusing the loan of the Colonel's pony -carriage, and thence had himself carried across the lake in a hired -boat to a place called Sandy's Quay. That, he was assured, was the -spot on the other side from whence the nearest road would be found -to Glenbogie. But nobody on the Callerfoot side could tell him what -would be the distance. At Sandy's Quay he was assured that it was -twelve miles to Glenbogie House; but he soon found that the man who -told him had a pony for hire. "Ye'll nae get there under twalve -mile,--or maybe saxteen, if ye attampt to walk up the glin." So said -the owner of the pony. But milder information came to him speedily. -A little boy would show him the way up the glen for sixpence, and -engage to bring him to the house in an hour and a half. So he started -with the little boy, and after a hot scramble for about two hours he -found himself within the demesne. Poking their way up through thick -bushes from a ravine, they showed their two heads,--first the boy and -then the sculptor,--close by the side of the private road,--just as -Sir Thomas was passing, mounted on his cob. "It's his ain sell," said -the boy, dropping his head again amongst the bushes. - -Hamel, when he had made good his footing, had first to turn round -so that the lad might not lose his wages. A dirty little hand came -up for the sixpence, but the head never appeared again. It was well -known in the neighbourhood,--especially at Sandy's Quay, where boats -were used to land,--that Sir Thomas was not partial to visitors who -made their way into Glenbogie by any but the authorised road. While -Hamel was paying his debt, he stood still on his steed waiting to -see who might be the trespasser. "That's not a high road," said Sir -Thomas, as the young man approached him. As the last quarter of an -hour from the bottom of the ravine had been occupied in very stiff -climbing among the rocks the information conveyed appeared to Hamel -to have been almost unnecessary. "Your way up to the house, if you -are going there, would have been through the lodge down there." - -"Perhaps you are Sir Thomas Tringle," said Hamel. - -"That is my name." - -"Then I have to ask your pardon for my mode of ingress. I am going up -to the house; but having crossed the lake from Callerfoot I did not -know my way on this side, and so I have clambered up the ravine." Sir -Thomas bowed, and then waited for further tidings. "I believe Miss -Dormer is at the house?" - -"My niece is there." - -"My name is Hamel,--Isadore Hamel. I am a sculptor, and used to be -acquainted with her father. I have had great kindness from the whole -family, and so I was going to call upon her. If you do not object, I -will go on to the house." - -Sir Thomas sat upon his horse speechless for a minute. He had to -consider whether he did not object or not. He was well aware that -his wife objected,--aware also that he had declined to coincide with -his wife's objection when it had been pressed upon him. Why should -not his niece have the advantage of a lover, if a proper sort of a -lover came in her way? As to the father's morals or the son's birth, -those matters to Sir Thomas were nothing. The young man, he was -told, was good at making busts. Would any one buy the busts when -they were made? That was the question. His wife would certainly be -prejudiced,--would think it necessary to reject for Lucy any suitor -she would reject for her own girls. And then, as Sir Thomas felt, she -had not shown great judgment in selecting suitors for her own girls. -"Oh, Mr. Hamel, are you?" he said at last. - -"Isadore Hamel." - -"You called at Queen's Gate once, not long ago?" - -"I did," said Hamel; "but saw no one." - -"No, you didn't; I heard that. Well, you can go on to the house if -you like, but you had better ask for Lady Tringle. After coming over -from Callerfoot you'll want some lunch. Stop a moment. I don't mind -if I ride back with you." And so the two started towards the house, -and Hamel listened whilst Sir Thomas expatiated on the beauties of -Glenbogie. - -They had passed through one gate and were approaching another, when, -away among the trees, there was a young lady seen walking alone. -"There is Miss Dormer," said Hamel; "I suppose I may join her?" Sir -Thomas could not quite make up his mind whether the meeting was to -be allowed or not, but he could not bring himself at the spur of the -moment to refuse his sanction. So Hamel made his way across to Lucy, -while Sir Thomas rode on alone to the house. - -Lucy had seen her uncle on the cob, and, being accustomed to see him -on the cob, knew of course who he was. She had also seen another man -with him, but not in the least expecting that Hamel was in those -parts, had never dreamt that he was her uncle's companion. It was -not till Hamel was near to her that she understood that the man was -coming to join herself; and then, when she did recognise the man, she -was lost in amazement. "You hardly expected to see me here?" said he. - -"Indeed; no." - -"Nor did I expect that I should find you in this way." - -"My uncle knows it is you?" asked Lucy. - -"Oh, yes. I met him as I came up from the ravine, and he has asked -me to go on to the house to lunch." Then there was silence for a few -moments as they walked on together. "I hope you do not think that I -am persecuting you in making my way over here." - -"Oh, no; not persecuting!" Lucy when she heard the sound of what she -herself had said, was angry with herself, feeling that she had almost -declared him guilty of some wrong in having come thither. "Of course -I am glad to see you," she added, "for papa's sake, but I'm afraid--" - -"Afraid of what, Miss Dormer?" - -She looked him full in the face as she answered him, collecting her -courage to make the declaration which seemed to be necessary. "My -Aunt Emmeline does not want you to come." - -"Why should she not want me?" - -"That I cannot tell. Perhaps if I did know I should not tell. But -it is so. You called at Queen's Gate, and I know that you were not -admitted, though I was at home. Of course, Aunt Emmeline has a right -to choose who shall come. It is not as though I had a house of my -own." - -"But Sir Thomas asked me in." - -"Then you had better go in. After what Aunt Emmeline said, I do not -think that you ought to remain with me." - -"Your uncle knows I am with you," said Hamel. Then they walked on -towards the house together in silence for a while. "Do you mean to -say," he continued, "that because your aunt objects you are never to -see me again?" - -"I hope I shall see you again. You were papa's friend, and I should -be so very sorry not to see you again." - -"I suppose," he said, slowly, "I can never be more than your papa's -friend." - -"You are mine also." - -"I would be more than that." Then he paused as if waiting for a -reply, but she of course had none to make. "I would be so much more -than that, Lucy." Still she had no answer to give him. But there -comes a time when no answer is as excellent eloquence as any words -that can be spoken. Hamel, who had probably not thought much of this, -was nevertheless at once informed by his instincts that it was so. -"Oh, Lucy," he said, "if you can love me say so." - -"Mr. Hamel," she whispered. - -"Lucy." - -"Mr. Hamel, I told you about Aunt Emmeline. She will not allow it. I -ought not to have let you speak to me like this, while I am staying -here." - -"But your uncle knows I am with you." - -"My aunt does not know. We must go to the house. She expressly -desired that I would not speak to you." - -"And you will obey her--always?" - -"No; not always. I did not say that I should obey her always. Some -day, perhaps, I shall do as I think fit myself." - -"And then you will speak to me?" - -"Then I will speak to you," she said. - -"And love me?" - -"And love you," she answered, again looking him full in the face. -"But now pray, pray let us go on." For he had stopped her awhile -amidst the trees, and had put out his hand as though to take hers, -and had opened his arms as though he would embrace her. But she -passed on quickly, and hardly answered his further questions till -they found themselves together in the hall of the house. - -Then they met Lady Tringle, who was just passing into the room where -the lunch was laid, and following her were Augusta, Gertrude, and the -Honourable Septimus Traffick. For, though Frank Houston had found -himself compelled to go at the day named, the Honourable Septimus -had contrived to squeeze out another week. Augusta was indeed still -not without hope that the paternal hospitality of Glenbogie might be -prolonged till dear Merle Park should once again open her portals. -Sir Thomas had already passed into the dining-room, having in gruff -voice informed his wife that he had invited Mr. Hamel to come in to -lunch. "Mr. Hamel!" she had exclaimed. "Yes, Mr. Hamel. I could not -see the man starving when he had come all this way. I don't know -anything against him." Then he had turned away, and had gone into -the dining-room, and was now standing with his back to the empty -fire-place, determined to take Mr. Hamel's part if any want of -courtesy were shown to him. - -It certainly was hard upon Lady Tringle. She frowned and was going to -walk on without any acknowledgment, when Lucy timidly went through -a form of introduction. "Aunt Emmeline, this is Mr. Hamel. Uncle -Tom met him somewhere in the grounds and has asked him to come to -luncheon." Then Lady Tringle curtseyed and made a bow. The curtsey -and the bow together were sufficient to have crushed the heart of any -young man who had not been comforted and exalted by such words as -Isadore had heard from Lucy's lips not five minutes since. "And love -you," she had said. After that Lady Tringle might curtsey and bow -as she would, and he could still live uncrushed. After the curtsey -and the bow Lady Tringle passed on. Lucy fell into the rank behind -Gertrude; and then Hamel afterwards took his place behind the -Honourable Septimus. "If you will sit there, Mr. Hamel," said Lady -Tringle, pointing to a chair, across the table, obliquely, at the -greatest possible distance from that occupied by Lucy. There he -was stationed between Mr. Traffick and Sir Thomas. But now, in his -present frame of mind, his position at the table made very little -difference to him. - -The lunch was eaten in grim silence. Sir Thomas was not a man profuse -with conversation at his meals, and at this moment was ill-inclined -for any words except what he might use in scolding his wife for being -uncivil to his guest. Lady Tringle sat with her head erect, hardly -opening her mouth sufficiently to allow the food to enter it. It was -her purpose to show her displeasure at Mr. Hamel, and she showed it. -Augusta took her mother's part, thoroughly despising the two Dormer -girls and any lover that they might have. Poor Gertrude had on that -morning been violently persecuted by a lecture as to Frank Houston's -impecuniosity. Lucy of course would not speak. The Honourable -Septimus was anxious chiefly about his lunch,--somewhat anxious also -to offend neither the master nor the mistress of Merle Park. Hamel -made one or two little efforts to extract answers from Sir Thomas, -but soon found that Sir Thomas would prefer to be left in silence. -What did it signify to him? He had done all that he wanted, and much -more than he had expected. - -The rising and getting away from luncheon is always a difficulty,--so -great a difficulty when there are guests that lunch should never be -much a company festival. There is no provision for leaving the table -as there is at dinner. But on this occasion Lady Tringle extemporised -provision the first moment in which they had all ceased to eat. "Mr. -Hamel," she said very loudly, "would you like some cheese?" Mr. -Hamel, with a little start, declared that he wanted no cheese. "Then, -my dears, I think we will go into my room. Lucy, will you come with -me?" Upon this the four ladies all went out in procession, but her -ladyship was careful that Lucy should go first so that there might -be no possibility of escape. Augusta and Gertrude followed her. The -minds of all the four were somewhat perturbed; but among the four -Lucy's heart was by far the lightest. - -"Are you staying over with Stubbs at that cottage?" asked the -Honourable Septimus. "A very queer fellow is Stubbs." - -"A very good fellow," said Hamel. - -"I dare say. He hasn't got any shooting?" - -"I think not." - -"Not a head. Glentower wouldn't let an acre of shooting over there -for any money." This was the Earl of Glentower, to whom belonged an -enormous tract of country on the other side of the lake. "What on -earth does he do with himself stuck up on the top of those rocks?" - -"He does shoot sometimes, I believe, when Lord Glentower is there." - -"That's a poor kind of fun, waiting to be asked for a day," said -the Honourable Septimus, who rarely waited for anything till he was -asked. "Does he get any fishing?" - -"He catches a few trout sometimes in the tarns above. But I fancy -that Stubbs isn't much devoted to shooting and fishing." - -"Then what the d---- does he do with himself in such a country as -this?" Hamel shrugged his shoulders, not caring to say that what with -walking, what with reading and writing, his friend could be as happy -as the day was long in such a place as Drumcaller. - -"Is he a Liberal?" - -"A what?" asked Hamel. "Oh, a Liberal? Upon my word I don't know what -he is. He is chiefly given to poetry, tobacco, and military matters." -Then the Honourable Septimus turned up his nose in disgust, and -ceased his cross-examination as to the character and pursuits of -Colonel Jonathan Stubbs. - -"Sir Thomas, I am very much obliged to you for your kindness," said -Hamel, getting up suddenly. "As it is a long way over to Drumcaller I -think I will make a start. I know my way down the Glen and should be -sure to miss it by any other route. Perhaps you'll let me go back as -I came." Sir Thomas offered him the loan of a horse, but this was -refused, and Hamel started on his return journey across the lake. - -When he had gone a few steps from the portal he turned to look at -the house which contained one whom he now regarded as belonging -exclusively to himself; perhaps he thought that he might catch some -final view of Lucy; or, not quite thinking it, fancied that some -such chance might at least be possible; but he saw nothing but the -uninteresting facade of the grand mansion. Lucy was employed quite -otherwise. She was listening to a lecture in which her aunt was -describing to her how very badly Mr. Hamel had behaved in obtruding -himself on the shades of Glenbogie. The lecture was somewhat long, as -Aunt Emmeline found it necessary to repeat all the arguments which -she had before used as to the miscreant's birth, as to his want of -adequate means, and as to the general iniquities of the miscreant's -father. All this she repeated more than once with an energy that was -quite unusual to her. The flood of her eloquence was so great that -Lucy found no moment for an interposing word till all these evils -had been denunciated twice and thrice. But then she spoke. "Aunt -Emmeline," she said, "I am engaged to Mr. Hamel now." - -"What!" - -"He has asked me to be his wife and I have promised." - -"And that after all that I had said to you!" - -"Aunt Emmeline, I told you that I should not drop him. I did not bid -him come here. Uncle Tom brought him. When I saw him I would have -avoided him if I could. I told him he ought not to be here because -you did not wish it; and then he answered that my uncle knew that he -was with me. Of course when he told me that he--loved me, I could -not make him any other answer." Then Aunt Emmeline expressed the -magnitude of her indignation simply by silence, and Lucy was left to -think of her lover in solitude. - - - * * * * * * - - -"And how have you fared on your day's journey?" said the Colonel, -when Hamel found him still seated on the platform with a book in his -hand. - -"Much better than I thought. Sir Thomas gave me luncheon." - -"And the young lady?" - -"The young lady was gracious also; but I am afraid that I cannot -carry my praises of the family at Glenbogie any further. The three -Tringle ladies looked at me as I was sitting at table as though I -certainly had no business in their august society." - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -STUBBS UPON MATRIMONY. - - -Before that evening was over,--or in the course of the night, -it might be better said, as the two men sat up late with their -pipes,--Hamel told his friend the Colonel exactly what had taken -place that morning over at Glenbogie. "You went for the purpose, of -course?" asked the Colonel. - -"For an off chance?" - -"I know that well enough. I never heard of a man's walking twelve -miles to call upon a young lady merely because he knew her father; -and when there was to be a second call within a few weeks, the first -having not been taken in very good part by the young lady's friends, -my inquiring mind told me that there was something more than old -family friendship." - -"Your inquiring mind saw into the truth." - -"And now looks forward to further events. Can she bake and can she -brew?" - -"I do not doubt that she could if she tried." - -"And can she wash a shirt for a man? Don't suppose, my dear fellow, -that I intend to say that your wife will have to wash yours. Washing -a shirt, as read in the poem from which I am quoting, is presumed to -be simply emblematic of household duties in general." - -"I take all you say in good part,--as coming from a friend." - -"I regard matrimony," said the Colonel, "as being altogether the -happiest state of life for a man,--unless to be engaged to some -lovely creature, in whom one can have perfect confidence, may be a -thought happier. One can enjoy all the ecstatic mental reflection, -all the delights of conceit which come from being loved, that feeling -of superiority to all the world around which illumines the bosom -of the favoured lover, without having to put one's hand into one's -pocket, or having one's pipe put out either morally or physically. -The next to this is matrimony itself, which is the only remedy for -that consciousness of disreputable debauchery, a savour of which -always clings, more or less strongly, to unmarried men in our rank -of life. The chimes must be heard at midnight, let a young man be -ever so well given to the proprieties, and he must have just a touch -of the swingebuckler about him, or he will seem to himself to be -deficient in virility. There is no getting out of it until a man -marry. But then--" - -"Well; then?" - -"Do you know the man whose long-preserved hat is always brushed -carefully, whose coat is the pattern of neatness, but still a little -threadbare when you look at it,--in the colour of whose cheek there -is still some touch of juvenility, but whose step is ever heavy and -whose brow is always sad? The seriousness of life has pressed the -smiles out of him. He has learned hardly to want anything for himself -but outward decency and the common necessaries of life. Such little -personal indulgences as are common to you and to me are as strange to -him as ortolans or diamonds." - -"I do not think I do know him." - -"I do;--well. I have seen him in the regiment, I have met him on -the steps of a public office, I have watched him as he entered his -parsonage house. You shall find him coming out of a lawyer's office, -where he has sat for the last nine hours, having supported nature -with two penny biscuits. He has always those few thin hairs over his -forehead, he has always that well-brushed hat, he has always that -load of care on his brow. He is generally thinking whether he shall -endeavour to extend his credit with the butcher, or resolve that the -supply of meat may be again curtailed without injury to the health of -his five daughters." - -"That is an ugly picture." - -"But is it true?" - -"In some cases, of course, it is." - -"And yet not ugly all round," said the meditative Colonel, who had -just replenished his pipe. "There are, on the other side, the five -daughters, and the partner of this load of cares. He knows it is well -to have the five daughters, rather than to live with plenty of beef -and mutton,--even with the ortolans if you will,--and with no one to -care whether his body may be racked in this world or his spirit in -the next. I do not say whether the balance of good or evil be on one -side or the other; but when a man is going to do a thing he should -know what it is he is going to do." - -"The reading of all this," said Hamel, "is, that if I succeed in -marrying Miss Dormer I must have thin locks, and a bad hat, and a -butcher's bill." - -"Other men do." - -"Some, instead, have balances at their bankers, and die worth thirty, -forty, or fifty thousand pounds, to the great consolation of the five -daughters." - -"Or a hundred thousand pounds! There is, of course, no end to -the amount of thousands which a successful professional man may -accumulate. You may be the man; but the question is, whether you -should not have reasonable ground to suppose yourself the man, before -you encumber yourself with the five daughters." - -"It seems to me," said Hamel, "that the need of such assurance is -cowardly." - -"That is just the question which I am always debating with myself. I -also want to rid myself of that swingebuckler flavour. I feel that -for me, like Adam, it is not good that I should be alone. I would -fain ask the first girl, that I could love well enough to wish -to make myself one with her, to be my wife, regardless of hats, -butchers, and daughters. It is a plucky and a fine thing for a man to -feel that he can make his back broad enough for all burdens. But yet -what is the good of thinking that you can carry a sack of wheat when -you are sure that you have not, in truth, strength to raise it from -the ground?" - -"Strength will come," said Hamel. - -"Yes, and the bad hat. And, worse than the bad hat, the soiled gown; -and perhaps with the soiled gown the altered heart;--and perhaps with -the altered heart an absence of all that tenderness which it is a -woman's special right to expect from a man." - -"I should have thought you would have been the last to be so -self-diffident." - -"To be so thoughtful, you mean," said the Colonel. "I am unattached -now, and having had no special duty for the last three months I have -given myself over to thinking in a nasty morbid manner. It comes, -I daresay, partly from tobacco. But there is comfort in this,--that -no such reflections falling out of one man's mouth ever had the -slightest effect in influencing another man's conduct." - -Hamel had told his friend with great triumph of his engagement -with Lucy Dormer, but the friend did not return the confidence by -informing the sculptor that during the whole of this conversation, -and for many days previous to it, his mind had been concerned with -the image of Lucy's sister. He was aware that Ayala had been, as it -were, turned out from her rich uncle's house, and given over to the -comparative poverty of Kingsbury Crescent. He himself, at the present -moment, was possessed of what might be considered a comfortable -income for a bachelor. He had been accustomed to live almost more -than comfortably; but, having so lived, was aware of himself that -he had not adapted himself for straitened circumstances. In spite -of that advice of his as to the brewing, baking, and washing -capabilities of a female candidate for marriage, he knew himself well -enough to be aware that a wife red with a face from a kitchen fire -would be distasteful to him. He had often told himself that to look -for a woman with money would be still more distasteful. Therefore he -had thought that for the present, at least, it would be well for him -to remain as he was. But now he had come across Ayala, and though in -the pursuance of his philosophy he had assured himself that Ayala -should be nothing to him, still he found himself so often reverting -to this resolution that Ayala, instead of being nothing, was very -much indeed to him. - -Three days after this Hamel was preparing himself for his departure -immediately after breakfast. "What a beast you are to go," said the -Colonel, "when there can be no possible reason for your going." - -"The five daughters and the bad hat make it necessary that a fellow -should do a little work sometimes." - -"Why can't you make your images down here?" - -"With you for a model, and mud out of the Caller for clay." - -"I shouldn't have the slightest objection. In your art you cannot -perpetuate the atrocity of my colour, as the fellow did who painted -my portrait last winter. If you will go, go, and make busts at -unheard-of prices, so that the five daughters may live for ever on -the fat of the land. Can I do any good for you by going over to -Glenbogie?" - -"If you could snub that Mr. Traffick, who is of all men the most -atrocious." - -"The power doesn't exist," said the Colonel, "which could snub the -Honourable Septimus. That man is possessed of a strength which I -thoroughly envy,--which is perhaps more enviable than any other gift -the gods can give. Words cannot penetrate that skin of his. Satire -flows off him like water from a duck. Ridicule does not touch him. -The fellest abuse does not succeed in inflicting the slightest wound. -He has learnt the great secret that a man cannot be cut who will not -be cut. As it is worth no man's while to protract an enmity with -such a one as he, he suffers from no prolonged enmities. He walks -unassailable by any darts, and is, I should say, the happiest man in -London." - -"Then I fear you can do nothing for me at Glenbogie. To mollify Aunt -Emmeline would, I fear, be beyond your power. Sir Thomas, as far as I -can see, does not require much mollifying." - -"Sir Thomas might give the young woman a thousand or two." - -"That is not the way in which I desire to keep a good hat on my -head," said Hamel, as he seated himself in the little carriage which -was to take him down to Callerfoot. - -The Colonel remained at Drumcaller till the end of September, when -his presence was required at Aldershot,--during which time he shot -a good deal, in obedience to the good-natured behests of Lord -Glentower, and in spite of the up-turned nose of Mr. Traffick. He -read much, and smoked much,--so that as to the passing of his time -there was not need to pity him, and he consumed a portion of his -spare hours in a correspondence with his aunt, the Marchesa, and with -his cousin Nina. One of his letters from each shall be given,--and -also one of the letters written to each in reply. - - - NINA TO HER COUSIN THE COLONEL. - - MY DEAR JONATHAN, - - Lady Albury says that you ought to be here, and so you - ought. It is ever so nice. There is a Mr. Ponsonby here, - and he and I can beat any other couple at lawn tennis. - There is an awning over the ground, which is such a - lounge. Playing lawn tennis with a parasol as those - Melcombe girls did is stupid. They were here, but have - gone. One I am quite sure was over head and ears in love - with Mr. Ponsonby. These sort of things are always all - on one side, you know. He isn't very much of a man, but - he does play lawn tennis divinely. Take it altogether, I - don't think there is anything out to beat lawn tennis. I - don't know about hunting,--and I don't suppose I ever - shall. - - We tried to have Ayala here, but I fear it will not come - off. Lady Albury was good-natured, but at last she did not - quite like writing to Mrs. Dosett. So mamma wrote, but the - lady's answer was very stiff. She thought it better for - Ayala to remain among her own friends. Poor Ayala! It is - clear that a knight will be wanted to go in armour, and - get her out of prison. I will leave it to you to say who - must be the knight. - - I hope you will come for a day or two before you go to - Aldershot. We stay till the 1st of October. You will be a - beast if you don't. Lady Albury says she never means to - ask you again. "Oh, Stubbs!" said Sir Harry; "Stubbs is - one of those fellows who never come if they're asked." Of - course we all sat upon him. Then he declared that you were - the dearest friend he had in the world, but that he never - dared to dream that you would ever come to Stalham again. - Perhaps if we can hit it off at last with Ayala, then you - would come. Mamma means to try again.--Your affectionate - cousin, - - NINA. - - - THE MARCHESA BALDONI TO HER NEPHEW, COLONEL STUBBS. - - MY DEAR JONATHAN, - - I did my best for my protege, but I am afraid it will not - succeed. Her aunt Mrs. Dosett seems to think that, as - Ayala is fated to live with her, Ayala had better take - her fate as she finds it. The meaning of that is, that if - a girl is doomed to have a dull life she had better not - begin it with a little pleasure. There is a good deal to - be said for the argument, but if I were the girl I should - like to begin with the pleasure and take my chance for - the reaction. I should perhaps be vain enough to think - that during the preliminary course I might solve all the - difficulty by my beaux yeux. I saw Mrs. Dosett once, and - now I have had a letter from her. Upon the whole, I am - inclined to pity poor Ayala. - - We are very happy here. The Marchese has gone to Como - to look after some property he has there. Do not be - ill-natured enough to say that the two things go - together;--but in truth he is never comfortable out of - Italy. He had a slice of red meat put before him the other - day, and that decided him to start at once. - - On the first of October we go back to London, and shall - remain till the end of November. They have asked Nina to - come again in November in order that she may see a hunt. I - know that means that she will try to jump over something, - and have her leg broken. You must be here and not allow - it. If she does come here I shall perhaps go down to - Brighton for a fortnight. - - Yes;--I do think Ayala Dormer is a very pretty girl, and I - do think, also, that she is clever. I quite agree that she - is ladylike. But I do not therefore think that she is just - such a girl as such a man as Colonel Jonathan Stubbs ought - to marry. She is one of those human beings who seem to - have been removed out of this world and brought up in - another. Though she knows ever so much that nobody else - knows, she is ignorant of ever so much that everybody - ought to know. Wandering through a grove, or seated by a - brook, or shivering with you on the top of a mountain, she - would be charming. I doubt whether she would be equally - good at the top of your table, or looking after your - children, or keeping the week's accounts. She would tease - you with poetry, and not even pretend to be instructed - when you told her how an army ought to be moved. I say - nothing as to the fact that she hasn't got a penny, though - you are just in that position which makes it necessary - for a man to get some money with his wife. I therefore am - altogether indisposed to any matrimonial outlook in that - direction.--Your affectionate aunt, - - BEATRICE BALDONI. - - - COLONEL STUBBS TO HIS COUSIN NINA. - - DEAR NINA, - - Lady Albury is wrong; I ought not to be at Stalham. What - should I do at Stalham at this time of year, who never - shoot partridges, and what would be the use of attempting - lawn tennis when I know I should be cut out by Mr. - Ponsonby? If that day in November is to come off then I'll - come and coach you across the country. You tell Sir Harry - that I say so, and that I will bring three horses for one - week. I think it very hard about poor Ayala Dormer, but - what can any knight do in such a case? When a young lady - is handed over to the custody of an uncle or an aunt, - she becomes that uncle's and aunt's individual property. - Mrs. Dosett may be the most noxious dragon that ever was - created for the mortification and general misery of an - imprisoned damsel, but still she is omnipotent. The only - knight who can be of any service is one who will go with a - ring in his hand, and absolutely carry the prisoner away - by force of the marriage service. Your unfortunate cousin - is so exclusively devoted to the duty of fighting his - country's battles that he has not even time to think of a - step so momentous as that. - - Poor Ayala! Do not be stupid enough to accuse me of - pitying her because I cannot be the knight to release her; - but I cannot but think how happy she would be at Stalham, - struggling to beat you and Mr. Ponsonby at lawn tennis, - and then risking a cropper when the happy days of November - should come round.--Your loving cousin, - - J. S. - - - COLONEL STUBBS TO THE MARCHESA BALDONI. - - MY DEAR AUNT, - - Your letter is worthy of the Queen of Sheba, if, as was no - doubt the case, she corresponded with King Solomon. As for - Ayala's fate, if it be her fate to live with Mrs. Dosett, - she can only submit to it. You cannot carry her over to - Italy, nor would the Marchese allow her to divide his - Italian good things with Nina. Poor little bird! She had - her chance of living amidst diamonds and bank-notes, with - the Tringle millionaires, but threw it away after some - fashion that I do not understand. No doubt she was a fool, - but I cannot but like her the better for it. I hardly - think that a fortnight at Stalham, with all Sir Harry's - luxuries around her, would do her much service. - - As for myself and the top of my table, and the future - companion who is to be doomed to listen to my military - lucubrations, I am altogether inclined to agree with you, - seeing that you write in a pure spirit of worldly good - sense. No doubt the Queen of Sheba gave advice of the - same sort to King Solomon. I never knew a woman to speak - confidentially of matrimony otherwise than as a matter of - pounds, shillings, and pence. In counsels so given, no - word of love has ever been known to creep in. Why should - it, seeing that love cannot put a leg of mutton into the - pot? Don't imagine that I say this in a spirit either of - censure or satire. Your ideas are my own, and should I - ever marry I shall do so in strict accordance with your - tenets, thinking altogether of the weekly accounts, and - determined to eschew any sitting by the sides of brooks. - - I have told Nina about my plans. I will be at Stalham in - November to see that she does not break her neck.--Yours - always, - - J. S. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -AYALA'S INDIGNATION. - - -Perhaps Mrs. Dosett had some just cause for refusing her sanction for -the proposed visit to Albury. If Fate did require that Ayala should -live permanently in Kingsbury Crescent, the gaiety of a very gay -house, and the wealth of a very wealthy house, would hardly be good -preparation for such a life. Up to the time of her going to the -Marchesa in Brook Street, Ayala had certainly done her best to suit -herself to her aunt's manners,--though she had done it with pain and -suffering. She had hemmed the towels and mended the sheets, and had -made the rounds to the shops. She had endeavoured to attend to the -pounds of meat and to sympathise with her aunt in the interest taken -in the relics of the joints as they escaped from the hungry treatment -of the two maidens in the kitchen. Ayala had been clever enough to -understand that her aunt had been wounded by Lucy's indifference, not -so much because she had desired to avail herself of Lucy's labours -as from a feeling that that indifference had seemed to declare that -her own pursuits were mean and vulgar. Understanding this she had -struggled to make those pursuits her own,--and had in part succeeded. -Her aunt could talk to her about the butter and the washing, matters -as to which her lips had been closed in any conversation with Lucy. -That Ayala was struggling Mrs. Dosett had been aware;--but she had -thought that such struggles were good and had not been hopeless. Then -came the visit to Brook Street, and Ayala returned quite an altered -young woman. It seemed as though she neither could nor would struggle -any longer. "I hate mutton-bones," she said to her aunt one morning -soon after her return. - -"No doubt we would all like meat joints the best," said her aunt, -frowning. - -"I hate joints too." - -"You have, I dare say, been cockered up at the Marchesa's with made -dishes." - -"I hate dishes," said Ayala, petulantly. - -"You don't hate eating?" - -"Yes, I do. It is ignoble. Nature should have managed it differently. -We ought to have sucked it in from the atmosphere through our fingers -and hairs, as the trees do by their leaves. There should have been no -butchers, and no grease, and no nasty smells from the kitchen,--and -no gin." - -This was worse than all,--this allusion to the mild but unfashionable -stimulant to which Mr. Dosett had been reduced by his good nature. -"You are flying in the face of the Creator, Miss," said Aunt -Margaret, in her most angry voice,--"in the face of the Creator who -made everything, and ordained what his creatures should eat and drink -by His infinite wisdom." - -"Nevertheless," said Ayala, "I think we might have done without -boiled mutton." Then she turned to some articles of domestic -needlework which were in her lap so as to show that in spite of the -wickedness of her opinions she did not mean to be idle. But Mrs. -Dosett, in her wrath, snatched the work from her niece's hands -and carried it out of the room, thus declaring that not even a -pillow-case in her house should owe a stitch to the hands of a girl -so ungrateful and so blasphemous. - -The wrath wore off soon. Ayala, though not contrite was meek, and -walked home with her aunt on the following morning, patiently -carrying a pound of butter, six eggs, and a small lump of bacon in a -basket. After that the pillow-case was recommitted to her. But there -still was left evidence enough that the girl's mind had been upset by -the luxuries of Brook Street,--evidence to which Aunt Margaret paid -very much attention, insisting upon it in her colloquies with her -husband. "I think that a little amusement is good for young people," -said Uncle Reginald, weakly. - -"And for old people too. No doubt about it, if they can get it so as -not to do them any harm at the same time. Nothing can be good for a -young woman which unfits her for that state of life to which it has -pleased God to call her. Ayala has to live with us. No doubt there -was a struggle when she first came from your sister, Lady Tringle, -but she made it gallantly, and I gave her great credit. She was just -falling into a quiet mode of life when there came this invitation -from the Marchesa Baldoni. Now she has come back quite an altered -person, and the struggle has to be made all over again." Uncle -Reginald again expressed his opinion that young people ought to have -a little amusement, but he was not strong enough to insist very much -upon his theory. It certainly, however, was true that Ayala, though -she still struggled, had been very much disturbed by the visit. - -Then came the invitation to Stalham. There was a very pretty note -from Lady Albury to Ayala herself, saying how much pleasure she would -have in seeing Miss Dormer at her house, where Ayala's old friends -the Marchesa and Nina were then staying. This was accompanied by a -long letter from Nina herself, in which all the charms of Stalham, -including Mr. Ponsonby and lawn tennis, were set forth at full -length. Ayala had already heard much about Stalham and the Alburys -from her friend Nina, who had hinted in a whisper that such an -invitation as this might perhaps be forthcoming. She was ready enough -for the visit, having looked through her wardrobe, and resolved that -things which had been good enough for Brook Street would still be -good enough for Stalham. But the same post had brought a letter for -Mrs. Dosett, and Ayala could see, that, as the letter was read, a -frown came upon her aunt's brow, and that the look on her aunt's -face was decidedly averse to Stalham. This took place soon after -breakfast, when Uncle Reginald had just started for his office, and -neither of them for awhile said a word to the other of the letter -that had been received. It was not till after lunch that Ayala spoke. -"Aunt," she said, "you have had a letter from Lady Albury?" - -"Yes," said Mrs. Dosett, grimly, "I have had a letter from Lady -Albury." - -Then there was another silence, till Ayala, whose mind was full of -promised delights, could not refrain herself longer. "Aunt Margaret," -she said, "I hope you mean to let me go." For a minute or two there -was no reply, and Ayala again pressed her question. "Lady Albury -wants me to go to Stalham." - -"She has written to me to say that she would receive you." - -"And I may go?" - -"I am strongly of opinion that you had better not," said Mrs. Dosett, -confirming her decree by a nod which might have suited Jupiter. - -"Oh, Aunt Margaret, why not?" - -"I think it would be most prudent to decline." - -"But why,--why,--why, Aunt Margaret?" - -"There must be expense." - -"I have money enough for the journey left of my own from what Uncle -Tom gave me," said Ayala, pleading her cause with all her eloquence. - -"It is not only the money. There are other reasons,--very strong -reasons." - -"What reasons, Aunt Margaret?" - -"My dear, it is your lot to have to live with us, and not with such -people as the Marchesa Baldoni and Lady Albury." - -"I am sure I do not complain." - -"But you would complain after having for a time been used to the -luxuries of Albury Park. I do not say that as finding fault, Ayala. -It is human nature that it should be so." - -"But I won't complain. Have I ever complained?" - -"Yes, my dear. You told me the other day that you did not like bones -of mutton, and you were disgusted because things were greasy. I do -not say this by way of scolding you, Ayala, but only that you may -understand what must be the effect of your going from such a house as -this to such a house as Stalham, and then returning back from Stalham -to such a house as this. You had better be contented with your -position." - -"I am contented with my position," sobbed Ayala. - -"And allow me to write to Lady Albury refusing the invitation." - -But Ayala could not be brought to look at the matter with her aunt's -eyes. When her aunt pressed her for an answer which should convey -her consent she would give none, and at last left the room bitterly -sobbing. Turning the matter over in her own bosom upstairs she -determined to be mutinous. No doubt she owed a certain amount of -obedience to her aunt; but had she not been obedient, had she -not worked hard and lugged about that basket of provisions, and -endeavoured to take an interest in all her aunt's concerns? Was she -so absolutely the property of her aunt that she was bound to do -everything her aunt desired to the utter annihilation of all her -hopes, to the extermination of her promised joys? She felt that she -had succeeded in Brook Street. She had met no Angel of Light, but she -was associated with people whom she had liked, and had been talked to -by those to whom it had been a pleasure to listen. That colonel with -the quaint name and the ugly face was still present to her memory -as he had leaned over her shoulder at the theatre, making her now -laugh by his drollery, and now filling her mind with interest by his -description of the scenes which she was seeing. She was sure that -all this, or something of the same nature, would be renewed for her -delight at Stalham. And was she to be robbed of this,--the only -pleasure which seemed to remain to her in this world,--merely because -her aunt chose to entertain severe notions as to duty and pleasure? -Other girls went out when they were asked. At Rome, when that -question of the dance at the Marchesa's had been discussed, she had -had her own way in opposition to her Aunt Emmeline and her cousin -Augusta. No doubt she had, in consequence partly of her conduct on -that occasion, been turned out of her Uncle Tom's house; but of that -she did not think at the present moment. She would be mutinous, and -would appeal to her Uncle Reginald for assistance. - -But the letter which contained the real invitation had been addressed -to her aunt, and her aunt could in truth answer it as she pleased. -The answer might at this moment be in the act of being written, and -should it be averse Ayala knew very well that she could not go in -opposition to it. And yet her aunt came to her in the afternoon -consulting her again, quite unconquered as to her own opinion, but -still evidently unwilling to write the fatal letter without Ayala's -permission. Then Ayala assured herself that she had rights of her -own, which her aunt did not care to contravene. "I think I ought to -be allowed to go," she said, when her aunt came to her during the -afternoon. - -"When I think it will be bad for you?" - -"It won't be bad. They are very good people. I think that I ought to -be allowed to go." - -"Have you no reliance on those who are your natural guardians?" - -"Uncle Reginald is my natural guardian," said Ayala, through her -tears. - -"Very well! If you refuse to be guided by me as though I were not -your aunt, and as you will pay no attention to what I tell you is -proper for you and best, the question must be left till your uncle -comes home. I cannot but be very much hurt that you should think so -little of me. I have always endeavoured to do the best I could for -you, just as though I were your mother." - -"I think that I ought to be allowed to go," repeated Ayala. - -As the first consequence of this, the replies to all the three -letters were delayed for the next day's post. Ayala had considered -much with what pretty words she might best answer Lady Albury's kind -note, and she had settled upon a form of words which she had felt to -be very pretty. Unless her uncle would support her, that would be of -no avail, and another form must be chosen. To Nina she would tell the -whole truth, either how full of joy she was,--or else how cruelly -used and how thoroughly broken-hearted. But she could not think -that her uncle would be unkind to her. Her uncle had been uniformly -gentle. Her uncle, when he should know how much her heart was set -upon it, would surely let her go. - -The poor girl, when she tacitly agreed that her uncle should be the -arbiter in the matter, thus pledging herself to abide by her uncle's -decision, let it be what it might, did not think what great advantage -her aunt would have over her in that discussion which would be held -upstairs while the master of the house was washing his hands before -dinner. Nor did she know of how much stronger will was her Aunt -Margaret than her Uncle Reginald. While he was washing his hands and -putting on his slippers, the matter was settled in a manner quite -destructive of poor Ayala's hopes. "I won't have it," said Mrs. -Dosett, in reply to the old argument that young people ought to have -some amusement. "If I am to be responsible for the girl I must be -allowed my own way with her. It is trouble enough, and very little -thanks I get for it. Of course she hates me. Nevertheless, I can -endeavour to do my duty, and I will. It is not thanks, nor love, nor -even gratitude, that I look for. I am bound to do the best I can by -her because she is your niece, and because she has no other real -friends. I knew what would come of it when she went to that house in -Brook Street. I was soft then and gave way. The girl has moped about -like a miserable creature ever since. If I am not to have my way -now I will have done with her altogether." Having heard this very -powerful speech, Uncle Reginald was obliged to give way, and it was -settled that after dinner he should convey to Ayala the decision to -which they had come. - -Ayala, as she sat at the dinner-table, was all expectation, but she -asked no question. She asked no question after dinner, while her -uncle slowly, solemnly, and sadly sipped his one beaker of cold -gin-and-water. He sipped it very slowly, no doubt because he was -anxious to postpone the evil moment in which he must communicate her -fate to his niece. But at last the melancholy glass was drained, and -then, according to the custom of the family, Mrs. Dosett led the way -up into the drawing-room, followed by Ayala and her husband. He, when -he was on the stairs, and when the eyes of his wife were not upon -him, tremulously put out his hand and laid it on Ayala's shoulder, -as though to embrace her. The poor girl knew well that mark of -affection. There would have been no need for such embracing had the -offered joys of Stalham been in store for her. The tears were already -in her eyes when she seated herself in the drawing-room, as far -removed as possible from the arm-chair which was occupied by her -aunt. - -Then her uncle pronounced his judgment in a vacillating voice,--with -a vacillation which was ineffectual of any good to Ayala. "Ayala," -he said, "your aunt and I have been talking over this invitation to -Stalham, and we are of opinion, my dear, that you had better not -accept it." - -"Why not, Uncle Reginald?" - -"There would be expense." - -"I can pay for my own ticket." - -"There would be many expenses, which I need not explain to you more -fully. The truth is, my dear, that poor people cannot afford to live -with rich people, and had better not attempt it." - -"I don't want to live with them." - -"Visiting them is living with them for a time. I am sorry, Ayala, -that we are not able to put you in a position in which you might -enjoy more of the pleasures incidental to your age; but you must take -the things as they are. Looking at the matter all round, I am sure -that your aunt is right in advising that you should stay at home." - -"It isn't advice at all," said Ayala. - -"Ayala!" exclaimed her aunt, in a tone of indignation. - -"It isn't advice," repeated Ayala. "Of course, if you won't let me -go, I can't." - -"You are a very wicked girl," said Mrs. Dosett, "to speak to your -uncle like that, after all that he has done for you." - -"Not wicked," said the uncle. - -"I say, wicked. But it doesn't matter. I shall at once write to -Lady Albury, as you desire, and of course there will be no further -question as to her going." Soon after that Mrs. Dosett sat down to -her desk, and wrote that letter to which the Marchesa had alluded in -hers to her nephew. No doubt it was stern and hard, and of a nature -to make such a woman as the Marchesa feel that Mrs. Dosett would not -be a pleasant companion for a girl like Ayala. But it was written -with a full conviction that duty required it; and the words, though -hard and stiff, had been chosen with the purpose of showing that the -doing of this disagreeable duty had been felt to be imperative. - -When the matter had been thus decided, Ayala soon retreated to her -own room. Her very soul was burning with indignation at the tyranny -to which she thought herself subjected. The use of that weak word, -advice, had angered her more than anything. It had not been advice. -It had not been given as advice. A command had been laid upon her, a -most cruel and unjust command, which she was forced to obey, because -she lacked the power of escaping from her condition of slavery. -Advice, indeed! Advice is a thing with which the advised one may or -may not comply, as that advised one may choose. A slave must obey an -order! Her own papa and her own mamma had always advised her, and the -advice had always been followed, even when read only in the glance of -an eye, in a smile, or a nod. Then she had known what it was to be -advised. Now she was ordered,--as slaves are ordered; and there was -no escape from her slavery! - -She, too, must write her letter, but there was no need now of that -pretty studied phrase, in which she had hoped to thank Lady Albury -fitly for her great kindness. She found, after a vain attempt or two, -that it was hopeless to endeavour to write to Lady Albury. The words -would not come to her pen. But she did write to Nina;-- - - - DEAR, DEAREST NINA, - - They won't let me go! Oh, my darling, I am so miserable! - Why should they not let me go, when people are so kind, so - very kind, as Lady Albury and your dear mamma? I feel as - though I should like to run from the house, and never come - back, even though I had to die in the streets. I was so - happy when I got your letter and Lady Albury's, and now I - am so wretched! I cannot write to Lady Albury. You must - just tell her, with many thanks from me, that they will - not let me go! - - Your unhappy but affectionate friend, - - AYALA. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -AYALA'S GRATITUDE. - - -There was much pity felt for Ayala among the folk at Stalham. The -sympathies of them all should have been with Mrs. Dosett. They ought -to have felt that the poor aunt was simply performing an unpleasant -duty, and that the girl was impracticable if not disobedient. But -Ayala was known to be very pretty, and Mrs. Dosett was supposed to -be plain. Ayala was interesting, while Mrs. Dosett, from the nature -of her circumstances, was most uninteresting. It was agreed on all -sides, at Stalham, that so pretty a bird as Ayala should not be -imprisoned for ever in so ugly a cage. Such a bird ought, at least, -to be allowed its chance of captivating some fitting mate by its -song and its plumage. That was Lady Albury's argument,--a woman very -good-natured, a little given to match-making, a great friend to -pretty girls,--and whose eldest son was as yet only nine, so that -there could be no danger to herself or her own flock. There was much -ridicule thrown on Mrs. Dosett at Stalham, and many pretty things -said of the bird who was so unworthily imprisoned in Kingsbury -Crescent. At last there was something like a conspiracy, the purport -of which was to get the bird out of its cage in November. - -In this conspiracy it can hardly be said that the Marchesa took an -active part. Much as she liked Ayala, she was less prone than Lady -Albury to think that the girl was ill-used. She was more keenly -alive than her cousin,--or rather her cousin's wife,--to the hard -necessities of the world. Ayala must be said to have made her own -bed. At any rate there was the bed and she must lie on it. It was not -the Dosetts' fault that they were poor. According to their means they -were doing the best they could for their niece, and were entitled to -praise rather than abuse. And then the Marchesa was afraid for her -nephew. Colonel Stubbs, in his letter to her, had declared that he -quite agreed with her views as to matrimony; but she was quite alive -to her nephew's sarcasm. Her nephew, though he might in truth agree -with her, nevertheless was sarcastic. Though he was sarcastic, still -he might be made to accede to her views, because he did, in truth, -agree with her. She was eminently an intelligent woman, seeing far -into character, and she knew pretty well the real condition of her -nephew's mind, and could foresee his conduct. He would marry before -long, and might not improbably marry a girl with some money if one -could be made to come in his way, who would at the same time suit -his somewhat fastidious taste. But Ayala suited his taste, Ayala who -had not a shilling, and the Marchesa thought it only too likely that -if Ayala were released from her cage, and brought to Albury, Ayala -might become Mrs. Jonathan Stubbs. That Ayala should refuse to become -Mrs. Jonathan Stubbs did not present itself as a possibility to the -Marchesa. - -So the matters were when the Marchesa and Nina returned from Stalham -to London, a promise having been given that Nina should go back to -Stalham in November, and be allowed to see the glories of a hunt. She -was not to ride to hounds. That was a matter of course, but she was -to be permitted to see what a pack of hounds was like, and of what -like were the men in their scarlet coats, and how the huntsman's horn -would sound when it should be heard among the woods and fields. It -was already decided that the Colonel should be there to meet her, and -the conspiracy was formed with the object of getting Ayala out of her -cage at the same time. Stalham was a handsome country seat, in the -county of Rufford, and Sir Harry Albury had lately taken upon himself -the duties of Master of the Rufford and Ufford United Pack. Colonel -Stubbs was to be there with his horses in November, but had, in the -meantime, been seen by Lady Albury, and had been instigated to do -something for the release of Ayala. But what could he do? It was -at first suggested that he should call at Kingsbury Crescent, and -endeavour to mollify the stony heart of Aunt Dosett. But, as he had -said himself, he would be the worst person in the world to perform -such an embassy. "I am not an Adonis, I know," he said, "nor do I -look like a Lothario, but still I am in some sort a young man, and -therefore certain to be regarded as pernicious, as dangerous and -damnable, by such a dragon of virtue as Aunt Dosett. I don't see how -I could expect to have a chance." This interview took place in London -during the latter end of October, and it was at last decided that the -mission should be made by Lady Albury herself, and made, not to Mrs. -Dosett, at Kingsbury Crescent, but to Mr. Dosett at his office in -Somerset House. "I don't think I could stand Mrs. D.," said Lady -Albury. - -Lady Albury was a handsome fashionable woman, rather tall, always -excellently dressed, and possessed of a personal assurance which -nothing could daunt. She had the reputation of an affectionate -wife and a good mother, but was nevertheless declared by some -of her friends to be "a little fast." She certainly was fond of -comedy,--those who did not like her were apt to say that her comedy -was only fun,--and was much disposed to have her own way when she -could get it. She was now bent upon liberating Ayala from her cage, -and for this purpose had herself driven into the huge court belonging -to Somerset House. - -Mr. Dosett was dignified at his office with the use of a room to -himself, a small room looking out upon the river, in which he spent -six hours on six days of the week in arranging the indexes of -a voluminous library of manuscript letter-books. It was rarely -indeed that he was disturbed by the presence of any visitor. When, -therefore, his door was opened by one of the messengers, and he was -informed that Lady Albury desired to see him, he was for the moment -a good deal disturbed. No option, however, was given to him as to -refusing admission to Lady Albury. She was in the room before the -messenger had completed his announcement, and had seated herself in -one of the two spare chairs which the room afforded as soon as the -door was closed. "Mr. Dosett," she said, "I have taken the great -liberty of calling to say a few words about your niece, Miss Ayala -Dormer." - -When the lady was first announced, Mr. Dosett, in his confusion, had -failed to connect the name which he had heard with that of the lady -who had invited Ayala to her house. But now he recognised it, and -knew who it was that had come to him. "You were kind enough," he -said, "to invite my little girl to your house some weeks ago." - -"And now I have come to invite her again." - -Mr. Dosett was now more disturbed than ever. With what words was he -to refuse the request which this kind but very grand lady was about -to make? How could he explain to her all those details as to his own -poverty, and as to Ayala's fate in having to share that poverty with -him? How could he explain the unfitness of Ayala's temporary sojourn -with people so wealthy and luxurious? And yet were he to yield in the -least how could he face his wife on his return home to the Crescent? -"You are very kind, Lady Albury," he said. - -"We particularly wish to have her about the end of the first week in -November," said the lady. "Her friend Nina Baldoni will be there, and -one or two others whom she knows. We shall try to be a little gay for -a week or two." - -"I have no doubt it would be gay, and we at home are very dull." - -"Do you not think a little gaiety good for young people?" said her -ladyship, using the very argument which poor Mr. Dosett had so often -attempted to employ on Ayala's behalf. - -"Yes; a little gaiety," he said, as though deprecating the excessive -amount of hilarity which he imagined to prevail at Stalham. - -"Of course you do," said Lady Albury. "Poor little girl! I have heard -so much about her, and of all your goodness to her. Mrs. Dosett I -know is another mother to her; but still a little country air could -not but be beneficial. Do say that she shall come to us, Mr. Dosett." - -Then Mr. Dosett felt that, disagreeable as it was, he must preach the -sermon which his wife had preached to him, and he did preach it. He -spoke timidly of his own poverty, and the need which there was that -Ayala should share it. He spoke a word of the danger which might come -from luxury, and of the discontent which would be felt when the girl -returned to her own home. Something he added of the propriety of like -living with like, and ended by praying that Ayala might be excused. -The words came from him with none of that energy which his wife could -have used,--were uttered in a low melancholy drone; but still they -were words hard to answer, and called upon Lady Albury for all her -ingenuity in finding an argument against them. - -But Lady Albury was strong-minded, and did find an argument. "You -musn't be angry with me," she said, "if I don't quite agree with you. -Of course you wish to do the best you can for this dear child." - -"Indeed I do, Lady Albury." - -"How is anything then to be done for her if she remains shut up in -your house? You do not, if I understand, see much company -yourselves." - -"None at all." - -"You won't be angry with me for my impertinence in alluding to it." - -"Not in the least. It is the fact that we live altogether to -ourselves." - -"And the happiest kind of life too for married people," said Lady -Albury, who was accustomed to fill her house in the country with a -constant succession of visitors, and to have engagements for every -night of the week in town. "But for young people it is not quite so -good. How is a young lady to get herself settled in life?" - -"Settled?" asked Mr. Dosett, vaguely. - -"Married," suggested Lady Albury, more plainly. Mr. Dosett shook his -head. No idea on the subject had ever flashed across his mind. To -provide bread and meat, a bed and clothes, for his sister's child -he had felt to be a duty,--but not a husband. Husbands came, or did -not,--as the heavens might be propitious. That Ayala should go to -Stalham for the sake of finding a husband was certainly beyond the -extent of his providing care. "In fact how is a girl to have a chance -at all unless she is allowed to see some one? Of course I don't say -this with reference to our house. There will be no young men there, -or anything of that kind. But, taking a broad view, unless you let a -girl like that have what chances come in her way how is she to get -on? I think you have hardly a right to do it." - -"We have done it for the best." - -"I am sure of that, Mr. Dosett. And I hope you will tell Mrs. Dosett, -with my compliments, how thoroughly I appreciate her goodness. I -should have called upon her instead of coming here, only that I -cannot very well get into that part of the town." - -"I will tell her what you are good enough to say." - -"Poor Ayala! I am afraid that her other aunt, Aunt Tringle, was not -as good to her as your wife. I have heard about how all that occurred -in Rome. She was very much admired there. I am told that she is -perfectly lovely." - -"Pretty well." - -"A sort of beauty that we hardly ever see now,--and very, very -clever." - -"Ayala is clever, I think." - -"She ought to have her chance. She ought indeed. I don't think you -quite do your duty by such a girl as that unless you let her have a -chance. She is sure to get to know people, and to be asked from one -house to another. I speak plainly, for I really think you ought to -let her come." - -All this sank deeply into the heart of Uncle Reginald. Whether it was -for good or evil it seemed to him at the moment to be unanswerable. -If there was a chance of any good thing for Ayala, surely it could -not be his duty to bar her from that chance. A whole vista of new -views in reference to the treatment of young ladies was opened to him -by the words of his visitor. Ayala certainly was pretty. Certainly -she was clever. A husband with an income would certainly be a good -thing. Embryo husbands with incomes do occasionally fall in love with -pretty girls. But how can any pretty girl be fallen in love with -unless some one be permitted to see her? At Kingsbury Crescent there -was not a man to be seen from one end of the year to another. It -occurred to him now, for the first time, that Ayala by her present -life was shut out from any chance of marriage. It was manifestly true -that he had no right to seclude her in that fashion. At last he made -a promise, rashly, as he felt at the very moment of making it, that -he would ask his wife to allow Ayala to go to Stalham. Lady Albury of -course accepted this as an undertaking that Ayala should come, and -went away triumphant. - -Mr. Dosett walked home across the parks with a troubled mind, -thinking much of all that had passed between him and the lady of -fashion. It was with great difficulty that he could quite make up his -mind which was right,--the lady of fashion or his wife. If Ayala was -to live always as they lived at Kingsbury Crescent, if it should in -process of time be her fate to marry some man in the same class as -themselves, if continued care as to small pecuniary needs was to be -her future lot, then certainly her comfort would only be disturbed by -such a visit as that now proposed. And was it not probable that such -would be the destiny in store for her? Mr. Dosett knew the world -well enough to be aware that all pretty girls such as Ayala cannot -find rich husbands merely by exhibiting their prettiness. Kingsbury -Crescent, unalloyed by the dangers of Stalham, would certainly be the -most secure. But then he had been told that Ayala now had special -chances offered to her, and that he had no right to rob her of those -chances. He felt this the more strongly, because she was not his -daughter,--only his niece. With a daughter he and his wife might have -used their own judgment without check. But now he had been told that -he had no right to rob Ayala of her chances, and he felt that he had -not the right. By the time that he reached Kingsbury Crescent he had, -with many misgivings, decided in favour of Stalham. - -It was now some weeks since the first invitation had been refused, -and during those weeks life had not been pleasant at the Crescent. -Ayala moped and pined as though some great misfortune had fallen upon -her. When she had first come to the Crescent she had borne herself -bravely, as a man bears a trouble when he is conscious that he has -brought it on himself by his own act, and is proud of the act which -has done it. But when that excitement has gone, and the trouble still -remains, the pride wears off, and the man is simply alive to his -suffering. So it had been with Ayala. Then had come the visit to -Brook Street. When, soon after that, she was invited to Stalham, it -seemed as though a new world was being opened to her. There came a -moment when she could again rejoice that she had quarrelled with her -Aunt Emmeline. This new world would be a much better world than the -Tringle world. Then had come the great blow, and it had seemed to her -as though there was nothing but Kingsbury Crescent before her for the -rest of her wretched life. - -There was not a detail of all this hidden from the eyes of Aunt -Margaret. Stalham had decided that Aunt Margaret was ugly and -uninteresting. Stalham, according to its own views, was right. -Nevertheless the lady in Kingsbury Crescent had both eyes to see and -a heart to feel. She was hot of temper, but she was forgiving. She -liked her own way, but she was affectionate. She considered it right -to teach her niece the unsavoury mysteries of economy, but she was -aware that such mysteries must be distasteful to one brought up as -Ayala. Even when she had been loudest in denouncing Ayala's mutiny, -her heart had melted in ruth because Ayala had been so unhappy. -She, too, had questioned herself again and again as to the justness -of her decision. Was she entitled to rob Ayala of her chances? In -her frequent discussions with her husband she still persisted in -declaring that Kingsbury Crescent was safe, and that Stalham would be -dangerous. But, nevertheless, in her own bosom she had misgivings. As -she saw the poor girl mope and weary through one day after another, -she could not but have misgivings. - -"I have had that Lady Albury with me at the office to-day, and have -almost promised that Ayala shall go to her on the 8th of November." -It was thus that Mr. Dosett rushed at once into his difficulty as -soon as he found himself up-stairs with his wife. - -"You have?" - -"Well, my dear, I almost did. She said a great deal, and I could not -but agree with much of it. Ayala ought to have her chances." - -"What chances?" demanded Mrs. Dosett, who did not at all like the -expression. - -"Well; seeing people. She never sees anybody here." - -"Nobody is better than some people," said Mrs. Dosett, meaning to be -severe on Lady Albury's probable guests. - -"But if a girl sees nobody," said Mr. Dosett, "she can have -no,--no,--no chances." - -"She has the chance of wholesome victuals," said Mrs. Dosett, "and I -don't know what other chances you or I can give her." - -"She might see--a young man." This Mr. Dosett said very timidly. - -"A young fiddlestick! A young man! Young men should be waited for -till they come naturally, and never thought about if they don't come -at all. I hate this looking after young men. If there wasn't a young -man for the next dozen years we should do better,--so as just to -get out of the way of thinking about them for a time." This was Mrs. -Dosett's philosophy; but in spite of her philosophy she did yield, -and on that night it was decided that Ayala after all was to be -allowed to go to Stalham. - - - * * * * * * - - -To Mr. Dosett was deputed the agreeable task of telling Ayala on the -next evening what was to befall her. If anything agreeable was to be -done in that sombre house it was always deputed to the master. - -"What!" said Ayala, jumping from her chair. - -"On the eighth of November," said Mr. Dosett. - -"To Stalham?" - -"Lady Albury was with me yesterday at the office, and your aunt has -consented." - -"Oh, Uncle Reginald!" said Ayala, falling on her knees, and hiding -her face on his lap. Heaven had been once more opened to her. - -"I'll never forget it," said Ayala, when she went to thank her -aunt,--"never." - -"I only hope it may not do you a mischief." - -"And I beg your pardon, Aunt Margaret, because I was,--I -was,--because I was--" She could not find the word which would -express her own delinquency, without admitting more than she intended -to admit,--"too self-asserting, considering that I am only a young -girl." That would have been her meaning could she have found -appropriate words. - -"We need not go back to that now," said Aunt Margaret. - - -END OF VOL. I. - - - - * * * * * * - - - -AYALA'S ANGEL - -by - -ANTHONY TROLLOPE, - -Author of "Doctor Thorne," "The Prime Minister," "Orley Farm," -&c., &c. - -In Three Volumes. - -VOL. II. - - - - - - - -London: -Chapman and Hall (Limited), -11, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden. -1881. -[All Rights Reserved.] - -Westminster: -J. B. Nichols and Sons, Printers. -25, Parliament Street. - - - - -CONTENTS OF VOL. II. - - XXIII. STALHAM PARK. - XXIV. RUFFORD CROSS-ROADS. - XXV. "YOU ARE NOT HE." - XXVI. "THE FINEST HERO THAT I EVER KNEW." - XXVII. LADY ALBURY'S LETTER. - XXVIII. MISS DOCIMER. - XXIX. AT MERLE PARK. NO. 1. - XXX. AT MERLE PARK. NO. 2. - XXXI. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. - XXXII. TOM'S DESPAIR. - XXXIII. ISADORE HAMEL IN LOMBARD STREET. - XXXIV. "I NEVER THREATENED TO TURN YOU OUT." - XXXV. TOM TRINGLE SENDS A CHALLENGE. - XXXVI. TOM TRINGLE GETS AN ANSWER. - XXXVII. GERTRUDE IS UNSUCCESSFUL. - XXXVIII. FRANK HOUSTON IS PENITENT. - XXXIX. CAPTAIN BATSBY. - XL. AUNT EMMELINE'S NEW PROPOSITION. - XLI. "A COLD PROSPECT!" - XLII. ANOTHER DUEL. - XLIII. ONCE MORE! - - - - -AYALA'S ANGEL. - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -STALHAM PARK. - - -On the day fixed Ayala went down to Stalham. A few days before she -started there came to her a letter, or rather an envelope, from her -uncle Sir Thomas, enclosing a cheque for L20. The Tringle women had -heard that Ayala had been asked to Stalham, and had mentioned the -visit disparagingly before Sir Thomas. "I think it very wrong of my -poor brother," said Lady Tringle. "She can't have a shilling even to -get herself gloves." This had an effect which had not been intended, -and Sir Thomas sent the cheque for L20. Then Ayala felt not only that -the heavens were opened to her but that the sweetest zephyrs were -blowing her on upon her course. Thoughts as to gloves had disturbed -her, and as to some shoes which were wanting, and especially as to -a pretty hat for winter wear. Now she could get hat and shoes and -gloves, and pay her fare, and go down to Stalham with money in her -pocket. Before going she wrote a very pretty note to her Uncle Tom. - -On her arrival she was made much of by everyone. Lady Albury called -her the caged bird, and congratulated her on her escape from the -bars. Sir Harry asked her whether she could ride to hounds. Nina -gave her a thousand kisses. But perhaps her greatest delight was -in finding that Jonathan Stubbs was at Albury. She had become so -intimate with the Colonel that she regarded him quite like an old -friend; and when a girl has a male friend, though he may be much less -loved, or not loved at all, he is always more pleasant, or at any -rate more piquant, than a female friend. As for love with Colonel -Stubbs that was quite out of the question. She was sure that he would -never fall in love with herself. His manner to her was altogether -unlike that of a lover. A lover would be smooth, soft, poetic, -and flattering. He was always a little rough to her,--sometimes -almost scolding her. But then he scolded her as she liked to be -scolded,--with a dash of fun and a greatly predominating admixture -of good-nature. He was like a bear,--but a bear who would always -behave himself pleasantly. She was delighted when Colonel Stubbs -congratulated her on her escape from Kingsbury Crescent, and felt -that he was justified by his intimacy when he called Mrs. Dosett a -mollified she-Cerberus. - -"Are you going to make one of my team?" said the Colonel to her on -the morning after her arrival. It was a non-hunting morning, and the -gentlemen were vacant about the house till they went out for a little -shooting later on in the day. - -"What team?" said Ayala, feeling that she had suddenly received a -check to her happiness. She knew that the Colonel was alluding to -those hunting joys which were to be prepared for Nina, and which were -far beyond her own reach. That question of riding gear is terrible to -young ladies who are not properly supplied. Even had time admitted -she would not have dared to use her uncle's money for such a purpose, -in the hope that a horse might be lent to her. She had told herself -that it was out of the question, and had declared to herself that she -was too thankful for her visit to allow any regret on such a matter -to cross her mind. But when the Colonel spoke of his team there was -something of a pang. How she would have liked to be one of such a -team! - -"My pony team. I mean to drive too. You mustn't think that I am -taking a liberty when I say that they are to be called Nina and -Ayala." - -There was no liberty at all. Had he called her simply Ayala she would -have felt it to be no more than pleasant friendship, coming from him. -He was so big, and so red, and so ugly, and so friendly! Why should -he not call her Ayala? But as to that team,--it could not be. "If -it's riding," she said demurely, "I can't be one of the ponies." - -"It is riding,--of course. Now the Marchesa is not here, we mean to -call it hunting in a mild way." - -"I can't," she said. - -"But you've got to do it, Miss Dormer." - -"I haven't got anything to do it with. Of course, I don't mind -telling you." - -"You are to ride the sweetest little horse that ever was -foaled,--just bigger than a pony. It belongs to Sir Harry's sister -who is away, and we've settled it all. There never was a safer little -beast, and he can climb through a fence without letting you know that -it's there." - -"But I mean--clothes," said Ayala. Then she whispered, "I haven't got -a habit, or anything else anybody ought to have." - -"Ah," said the Colonel; "I don't know anything about that. I should -say that Nina must have managed that. The horse department was left -to me, and I have done my part. You will find that you will have to -go out next Tuesday and Friday. The hounds will be here on Tuesday, -and they will be at Rufford on Friday. Rufford is only nine miles -from here, and it's all settled." - -Before the day was over the difficulty had vanished. Miss Albury's -horse was not only called into requisition but Miss Albury's habit -also. Ayala had a little black hat of her own, which Lady Albury -assured her would do excellently well for the hunting field. There -was some fitting and some trying on, and perhaps a few moments of -preliminary despair; but on the Tuesday morning she rode away from -the hall door at eleven o'clock mounted on Sprite, as the little -horse was called, and felt herself from head to foot to be one of -Colonel Stubbs's team. When at Glenbogie she had ridden a little, and -again in Italy, and, being fearless by nature, had no trepidation to -impair the fulness of her delight. - -Hunting from home coverts rarely exacts much jumping from ladies. -The woods are big, and the gates are numerous. It is when the -far-away homes of wild foxes are drawn,--those secluded brakes -and gorses where the nobler animal is wont to live at a distance -from carriage-roads and other weak refuges of civilization,--that -the riding capacities of ladies must be equal to those of their -husbands and brothers. This present moment was an occasion for great -delight,--at least, so it was found by both Nina and Ayala. But it -was not an opportunity for great glory. Till it was time for lunch -one fox after another ran about the big woods of Albury in a fashion -that seemed perfect to the two girls, but which nearly broke the -heart of old Tony, who was still huntsman to the Ufford and Rufford -United Hunt. "Darm their nasty ways," said Tony to Mr. Larry -Twentyman, who was one of the popular habitues of the hunt; "they -runs one a top of anothers brushes, till there ain't a 'ound living -knows t'other from which. There's always a many on 'em at Albury, -but I never knew an Albury fox worth his grub yet." But there was -galloping along roads and through gates, and long strings of horsemen -followed each other up and down the rides, and an easy coming back to -the places from which they started, which made the girls think that -the whole thing was divine. Once or twice there was a little bank, -and once or twice a little ditch,--just sufficient to make Ayala feel -that no possible fence would be a difficulty to Sprite. She soon -learnt that mode of governing her body which leaping requires, and -when she was brought into lunch at about two she was sure that she -could do anything which the art of hunting required. But at lunch an -edict went forth as to the two girls, against further hunting for -that day. Nina strove to rebel, and Ayala attempted to be eloquent -by a supplicating glance at the Colonel. But they were told that as -the horses would be wanted again on Friday they had done enough. In -truth, Tony had already trotted off with the hounds to Pringle's -Gorse, a distance of five miles, and the gentlemen who had lingered -over their lunch had to follow him at their best pace. "Pringle's -Gorse is not just the place for young ladies," Sir Harry said, and so -the matter had been decided against Nina and Ayala. - -At about six Sir Harry, Colonel Stubbs, and the other gentlemen -returned, declaring that nothing quicker than their run from -Pringle's Gorse had ever been known in that country. "About six miles -straight on end in forty minutes," said the Colonel, "and then a kill -in the open." - -"He was laid up under a bank," said young Gosling. - -"He was so beat he couldn't carry on a field farther," said Captain -Batsby, who was staying in the house. - -"I call that the open," said Stubbs. - -"I always think I kill a fox in the open," said Sir Harry, "when the -hounds run into him, because he cannot run another yard with the -country there before him." Then there was a long discussion, as they -stood drinking tea before the fire, as to what "the open" meant, from -which they went to other hunting matters. To all this Ayala listened -with attentive ears, and was aware that she had spent a great day. -Oh, what a difference was there between Stalham and Kingsbury -Crescent! - -The next two days were almost equally full of delight. She was taken -into the stables to see her horse, and as she patted his glossy coat -she felt that she loved Sprite with all her heart. Oh, what a world -of joy was this;--how infinitely superior even to Queen's Gate and -Glenbogie! The gaudy magnificence of the Tringles had been altogether -unlike the luxurious comfort of Stalham, where everybody was at his -ease, where everybody was good-natured, where everybody seemed to -acknowledge that pleasure was the one object of life! On the evening -before the Friday she was taken out to dinner by Captain Batsby. -She was not sure that she liked Captain Batsby, who made little -complimentary speeches to her. But her neighbour on the other side -was Colonel Stubbs, and she was quite sure that she liked Colonel -Stubbs. - -"I know you'll go like a bird to-morrow," said Captain Batsby. - -"I shouldn't like that, because there would be no jumping," said -Ayala. - -"But you'd be such a beautiful bird." The Captain, as he drawled out -his words, made an eye at her, and she was sure that she did not like -the Captain. - -"At what time are we to start to-morrow?" she said, turning to the -Colonel. - -"Ten, sharp. Mind you're ready. Sir Harry takes us on the drag, and -wouldn't wait for Venus, though she wanted five minutes more for her -back hair." - -"I don't suppose she ever wants any time for her back hair. I -wouldn't if I were a goddess." - -"Then you'd be a very untidy goddess, that's all. I wonder whether -you are untidy." - -"Well;--yes;--sometimes." - -"I hate untidy girls." - -"Thank you, Colonel Stubbs." - -"What I like is a nice prim little woman, who never had a pin in the -wrong place in her life. Her cuffs and collars are always as stiff -as steel, and she never rubs the sleeves of her dresses by leaning -about, like some young ladies." - -"That's what I do." - -"My young woman never sits down lest she should crease her dress. My -young woman never lets her ribbons get tangled. My young woman can -dress upon L40 a-year, and always look as though she came out of a -band-box." - -"I don't believe you've got a young woman, Colonel Stubbs." - -"Well; no; I haven't,--except in my imagination." - -If so, he too must have his Angel of Light! "Do you ever dream about -her?" - -"Oh dear, yes. I dream that she does scold so awfully when I have her -to myself. In my dreams, you know, I'm married to her, and she always -wants me to eat hashed mutton. Now, if there is one thing that makes -me more sick than another it is hashed mutton. Of course I shall -marry her in some of my waking moments, and then I shall have to eat -hashed mutton for ever." - -Then Captain Batsby put in another word. "I should so like to be -allowed to give you a lead to-morrow." - -"Oh, thank you,--but I'd rather not have it," said Ayala, who was -altogether in the dark, thinking that "a lead" might be some present -which she would not wish to accept from Captain Batsby. - -"I mean that I should like to show you a line if we get a run." - -"What is a line?" asked Ayala. - -"A line? Why a line is just a lead;--keep your eye on me and I'll -take the fences where you can follow without coming to grief." - -"Oh," said Ayala, "that's a lead is it? Colonel Stubbs is going to -give my friend and me a lead, as long as we stay here." - -"No man ever ought to coach more than one lady at once," said the -Captain, showing his erudition. "You're sure to come on top of one -another if there are two." - -"But Colonel Stubbs is especially told by the Marchesa to look after -both of us," said Ayala almost angrily. Then she turned her shoulder -to him, and was soon intent upon further instructions from the -Colonel. - -The following morning was fine, and all the ladies in the house were -packed on to the top of Sir Harry's drag. The Colonel sat behind Sir -Harry on the plea that he was wanted to take care of the two girls. -Captain Batsby and three other gentlemen were put inside, where they -consoled themselves with unlimited tobacco. In this way they were -driven to a spot called Rufford Cross Roads, where they found Tony -Tappett sitting perfectly quiescent on his old mare, while the hounds -were seated around him on the grassy sides of the roads. With him was -talking a stout, almost middle-aged gentleman, in a scarlet coat, and -natty pink-top boots, who was the owner of all the country around. -This was Lord Rufford, who a few years since was known as one of the -hardest riders in those parts; but he had degenerated into matrimony, -was now the happy father of half-a-dozen babies, and was hardly ever -seen to jump over a fence. But he still came out when the meets -were not too distant, and carefully performed that first duty of an -English country gentleman,--the preservation of foxes. Though he did -not ride much, no one liked a little hunting gossip better than Lord -Rufford. It was, however, observed that even in regard to hunting he -was apt to quote the authority of his wife. - -"Oh, yes, my Lord," said Tony, "there'll sure to be a fox at -Dillsborough. But we'll find one afore we get to Rufford, my Lord." - -"Lady Rufford says there hasn't been a fox seen in the home woods -this week." - -"Her ladyship will be sure to know," said Tony. - -"Do you remember that fence where poor Major Caneback got his fall -six years ago?" asked the Lord. - -"Seven years next Christmas, my Lord," said Tony. "He never put a leg -across a saddle again, poor fellow! I remember him well, my Lord; a -man who could 'andle a 'orse wonderful, though he didn't know 'ow to -ride to 'ounds; not according to my idea. To get your animal to carry -you through, never mind 'ow long the thing is; that's my idea of -riding to 'ounds, my Lord. The major was for always making a 'orse -jump over everything. I never wants 'em to jump over nothing I can't -help;--I don't, my Lord." - -"That's just what her ladyship is always saying to me," said Lord -Rufford, "and I do pretty much what her ladyship tells me." - -On this occasion Lady Rufford had been quite right about the home -covers. No doubt she generally was right in any assertion she made as -to her husband's affairs. After drawing them Tony trotted on towards -Dillsborough, running his hounds through a few little springs, which -lay near his way. As they went Colonel Stubbs rode between the two -girls. "Whenever I see Rufford," said the Colonel, "he does me a -world of good." - -"What good can a fat man like that do to you?" said Nina. - -"He is a continual sermon against marriage. If I could see Rufford -once a week I know that I should be safe." - -"He seems to me to be a very comfortable old gentleman," said Ayala. - -"Old! Seven years ago he was acknowledged to be the one undisputed -paragon of a young man in this county. No one else dreamed of looking -at a young lady if he chose to turn his eyes in that direction. He -was handsome as Apollo--" - -"He an Apollo!" said Nina. - -"The best Apollo there then was in these parts, and every one knew -that he had forty thousand a-year to spend. Now he is supposed to be -the best hand in the house at rocking the cradle." - -"Do you mean to say that he nurses the babies?" asked Ayala. - -"He looks as if he did at any rate. He never goes ten miles away -from his door without having Lady Rufford with him, and is always -tucked up at night just at half-past ten by her ladyship's own maid. -Ten years ago he would generally have been found at midnight with -cards in his hand and a cigar in his mouth. Now he is allowed two -cigarettes a-day. Well, Mr. Twentyman, how are you getting on?" This -he said to a good looking better sort of farmer, who came up, riding -a remarkably strong horse, and dressed in pink and white cords. - -"Thank ye, Colonel, pretty well, considering how hard the times are. -A man who owns a few acres and tries to farm them must be on the road -to ruin now-a-days. That's what I'm always telling my wife, so that -she may know what she has got to expect." Mr. Twentyman had been -married just twelve months. - -"She isn't much frightened, I daresay," said the Colonel. - -"She's young, you see," continued the farmer, "and hasn't settled -herself down yet to the sorrows of life." This was that Mr. Lawrence -Twentyman who married Kate Masters, the youngest daughter of old -Masters, the attorney at Dillsborough, and sister of Mrs. Morton, -wife of the squire of Bragton. "By the holy," said Twentyman, -suddenly, "the hounds have put a fox out of that little spinney." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -RUFFORD CROSS-ROADS. - - -Ayala, who had been listening attentively to the conversation of Mr. -Twentyman, and been feeling that she was being initiated every moment -into a new phase of life,--who had been endeavouring to make some -connection in her mind between the new charms of the world around -her and that world of her dreams that was ever present to her, and -had as yet simply determined that neither could Lord Rufford or Mr. -Twentyman have ever been an Angel of Light,--at once straightened -herself in her saddle, and prepared herself for the doing of -something memorable. It was evident to her that Mr. Twentyman -considered that the moment for action had come. He did not gallop -off wildly, as did four or five others, but stood still for a moment -looking intently at a few hounds who, with their tails feathering -in the air and with their noses down, seemed at the same time to be -irresolute and determined, knowing that the scent was there but not -yet quite fixed as to its line. "Half a moment, Colonel," he said, -standing up in his stirrups, with his left hand raised, while his -right held his reins and his whip close down on his horse's neck. -"Half a moment!" He only whispered, and then shook his head angrily, -as he heard the ill-timed shouting of one or two men who had already -reached the other side of the little skirting of trees. "I wish Fred -Botsey's tongue were tied to his teeth," he said, still whispering. -"Now, Colonel, they have it. There's a little lane to the right, and -a gate. After that the country's open, and there's nothing which the -ladies' nags can't do. I know the country so well, you'd perhaps -better come with me for a bit." - -"He knows all about it," said the Colonel to Ayala. "Do as he tells -you." - -Ayala and Nina both were quick enough to obey. Twentyman dashed -along the lane, while the girls followed him with the Colonel after -them. When they were at the hunting-gate already spoken of, old Tony -Tappett was with them, trotting, impatient to get to the hounds, -courteously giving place to the ladies,--whom, however, in his heart, -he wished at home in bed,--and then thrusting himself through the -gate in front of the Colonel. "D---- their pig-headed folly," he -said, as he came up to his friend Twentyman--"they knows no more -about it than if they'd just come from be'ind a counter,--'olloaing, -'olloaing, 'olloaing,--as if 'olloaing'd make a fox break! 'Owsomever -'e's off now, and they've got Cranbury Brook between them and his -line!" This he said in a squeaking little voice, intended to be -jocose and satirical, shaking his head as he rode. This last idea -seemed to give him great consolation. - -It was the consideration, deep and well-founded, as to the Cranbury -which had induced Larry Twentyman to pause on the road when he had -paused, and then to make for the lane and the gate. The direction had -hardly seemed to be that of the hounds, but Larry knew the spinney, -knew the brook,--knew the fox, perhaps,--and was aware of the spot at -which the brute would cross the water if he did cross it. The brute -did cross the water, and therefore there was Cranbury Brook between -many of the forward riders and his line. - -Sir Harry was then with them, and two or three other farmers. But -Larry had a lead, and the two girls were with him. Tony Tappett, -though he had got up to his hounds, did not endeavour to ride -straight to them as did Larry Twentyman. He was old and unambitious, -very anxious to know where his hounds were, so that he might be -with them should they want the assistance of his voice and counsel, -anxious to be near enough to take their fox from them should they run -into him, but taking no glory in jumping over a fence if he could -avoid it, creeping about here and there, knowing from experience -nearly every turn in the animal's mind, aware of every impediment -which would delay him, riding fast only when the impediments were far -between, taking no amusement to himself out of the riding, but with -his heart cruelly, bloodily, ruthlessly set upon killing the animal -before him. To kill his fox he would imperil his neck, but for the -glory of riding he would not soil his boots if he could help it. -After the girls came the Colonel, somewhat shorn of his honour in -that he was no longer giving them a lead, but doing his best to -maintain the pace, which Twentyman was making very good. "Now, young -ladies," said Twentyman, "give them their heads, and let them do it -just as they please,--alongside of each other, and not too near to -me." It was a brook,--a confluent of Cranbury Brook, and was wide -enough to require a good deal of jumping. It may be supposed that the -two young ladies did not understand much of the instructions given to -them. To hold their breath and be brave was the only idea present to -them. The rest must come from instinct and chance. The other side -of the brook was heaven;--this would be purgatory. Larry, fearing -perhaps that the order as to their not being too near might not be -obeyed, added a little to his own pace so as to be clear of them. -Nevertheless they were only a few strides behind, and had Larry's -horse missed his footing there would have been a mess. As it was they -took the brook side by side close to each other, and landed full of -delight and glory on the opposite bank. "Bravo! young ladies," -shouted Twentyman. - -"Oh, Nina, that is divine," said Ayala. Nina was a little too much -out of breath for answering, but simply threw up her eyes to Heaven -and made a flourish with her whip, intended to be expressive of her -perfect joy. - -Away went Larry and away went the girls with him, quite unconscious -that the Colonel's horse had balked the brook and then jumped -into it,--quite unconscious that Sir Harry, seeing the Colonel's -catastrophe, had followed Tony a quarter of a mile up the brook to -a ford. Even in the soft bosoms of young ladies "the devil take the -hindmost" will be the motto most appropriate for hunting. Larry -Twentyman, of whom they had never heard before, was now the god of -their idolatry. Where Larry Twentyman might go it was manifestly -their duty to follow, even though they should never see the poor -Colonel again. They recked nothing of the fox or of the hounds or of -the master or even of the huntsman. They had a man before them to -show them the way, and as long as they could keep him in sight each -was determined to be at any rate as good as the other. To give Larry -his due it must be acknowledged that he was thoroughly thoughtful of -them. At every fence encountered he studied the spot at which they -would be least likely to fall. He had to remember, also, that there -were two of them together, and that he had made himself in a way -responsible for the safety of both. All this he did, and did well, -because he knew his business. With the exception of the water-jump, -the country over which they passed was not difficult. For a time -there was a run of gates, each of which their guide was able to open -for them, and as they came near to Dillsborough Wood there were gaps -in most of the fences; but it seemed to the girls that they had -galloped over monstrous hedges and leapt over walls which it would -almost take a strong man to climb. The brook, however,--the river as -it seemed to them,--had been the crowning glory. Ayala was sure that -that brook would never be forgotten by her. Even the Angel of Light -was hardly more heavenly than the brook. - -That the fox was running for Dillsborough Wood was a fact well known -both to Tony Tappett and Mr. Larry Twentyman. A fox crossing the -brook from the Rufford side would be sure to run to Dillsborough -Wood. When Larry, with the two girls, were just about to enter the -ride, there was old Tony standing up on his horse at the corner, -looking into the covert. And now also a crowd of horsemen came -rushing up, who had made their way along the road, and had passed up -to the wood through Mr. Twentyman's farm-yard;--for, as it happened, -here it was that Mr. Twentyman lived and farmed his own land. Then -came Sir Harry, Colonel Stubbs, and some others who had followed the -line throughout,--the Colonel with his boots full of water, as he had -been forced to get off his horse in the bed of the brook. Sir Harry, -himself, was not in the best of humours,--as will sometimes be the -case with masters when they fail to see the cream of a run. "I never -saw such riding in my life," said Sir Harry, as though some great sin -had been committed by those to whom he was addressing himself. Larry -turned round, and winked at the two girls, knowing that, if sin had -been committed, they three were the sinners. The girls understood -nothing about it, but still thought that Larry Twentyman was divine. - -While they were standing about on the rides, Tony was still at -his work. The riding was over, but the fox had to be killed, and -Dillsborough Wood was a covert in which a fox will often require a -large amount of killing. No happier home for the vulpine deity exists -among the shires of England! There are earths there deep, capacious, -full of nurseries; but these, on the present occasion, were debarred -from the poor stranger by the wicked ingenuity of man. But there were -deep dells, in which the brambles and bracken were so thick that no -hound careful of his snout would penetrate them. The undergrowth of -the wood was so interwoven that no huntsman could see through its -depths. There were dark nooks so impervious that any fox ignorant of -the theory of his own scent must have wondered why a hound should -have been induced to creep into spaces so narrow. From one side to -another of the wood the hunted brute would traverse, and always seem -to have at last succeeded in putting his persecutors at fault. So -it was on this occasion. The run, while it lasted, had occupied, -perhaps, three-quarters of an hour, and during a time equally long -poor old Tony was to be seen scurrying from one side of the wood to -another, and was to be heard loudly swearing at his attendant whips -because the hounds did not follow his footsteps as quickly as his -soul desired. - -"I never mean to put on a pair of top-boots again, as long as I -live," said the Colonel. At this time a little knot of horsemen -was stationed in a knoll in the centre of the wood, waiting till -they should hear the fatal whoop. Among them were Nina, Ayala, the -Colonel, Larry Twentyman, and Captain Batsby. - -"Give up top-boots?" said Larry. "You don't mean to say you'll ride -in black!" - -"Top-boots, black boots, spurs, breeches, and red coat, I renounce -them all from this moment. If ever I'm seen in a hunting field again -it will be in a pair of trousers with overalls." - -"Now, you're joking, Colonel," said Larry. - -"Why won't you wear a red coat any more?" said Ayala. - -"Because I'm disgraced for ever. I came out to coach two young women, -and give them a lead, and all I've done was to tumble into a brook, -while a better man has taken my charge away from me." - -"Oh, Jonathan, I am so sorry," said Nina, "particularly about your -getting into the water." - -"Oh, Colonel Stubbs, we ought to have stopped," said Ayala. - -"It was my only comfort to see how very little I was wanted," said -the Colonel. "If I had broke my neck instead of wetting my feet it -would have been just the same to some people." - -"Oh, Jonathan!" said Nina, really shocked. - -"We ought to have stopped. I know we ought to have stopped," said -Ayala, almost crying. - -"Nobody ever stops for any one out hunting," said Twentyman, laying -down a great law. - -"I should think not," said Captain Batsby, who had hardly been off -the road all the time. - -"I am sure the Colonel will not be angry with me because I took the -young ladies on," said Larry. - -"The Colonel is such a muff," said the Colonel himself, "that he -will never presume to be angry with anybody again. But if my cousin -and Miss Dormer are not very much obliged to you for what you have -done for them there will be nothing of gratitude left in the female -British bosom. You have probably given to them the most triumphant -moment of their existence." - -"It was their own riding, Colonel; I had nothing to do with it." - -"I am so much obliged to you, Sir," said Nina. - -"And so am I," said Ayala, "though it was such a pity that Colonel -Stubbs got into the water." - -At that moment came the long expected call. Tony Tappett had killed -his fox, after crossing and re-crossing through the wood half a score -of times. "Is it all over?" asked Ayala, as they hurried down the -knoll and scurried down the line to get to the spot outside the wood -to which Tony was dragging the carcase of his defeated enemy. - -"It's all over for him," said Larry. "A good fox he was, but he'll -never run again. He is one of them bred at Littlecotes. The foxes -bred at Littlecotes always run." - -"And is he dead?" asked Nina. "Poor fellow! I wish it wasn't -necessary to kill them." Then they stood by till they saw the -body of the victim thrown up into the air, and fall amongst the -blood-smirched upturned noses of the expectant pack. - -"I call that a pretty little run, Sir Harry," said Larry Twentyman. - -"Pretty well," said Sir Harry; "the pace wasn't very great, or that -pony of mine which Miss Dormer is riding could not have lived with -it." - -"Horses, Sir Harry, don't want so much pace, if they are allowed to -go straight. It's when a man doesn't get well away, or has made a -mess with his fences, that he needs an extra allowance of pace to -catch the hounds. If you're once with them and can go straight you -may keep your place without such a deal of legs." To this Sir Harry -replied only by a grunt, as on the present occasion he had "made a -mess with his fences," as Larry Twentyman had called it. - -"And now, young ladies," said Larry, "I hope you'll come in and see -my missus and her baby, and have a little bit of lunch, such as it -is." - -Nina asked anxiously whether there would not be another fox. Ayala -also was anxious lest in accepting the proffered hospitality she -should lose any of the delights of the day. But it was at length -arranged that a quarter of an hour should be allowed before Tony took -his hounds over to the Bragton coverts. Immediately Larry was off his -horse, rushing into the house and ordering everyone about it to come -forth with bread and cheese and sherry and beer. In spite of what he -had said of his ruin it was known that Larry Twentyman was a warm -man, and that no man in Rufford gave what he had to give with a -fuller heart. His house was in the middle of the Rufford and Ufford -hunting country, and the consumption there during the hunting -months of bread and cheese, sherry and beer, must have been immense. -Everyone seemed to be intimate with him, and all called for what they -wanted as if they were on their own premises. On such occasions as -these Larry was a proud man; for no one in those parts carried a -lighter heart or was more fond of popularity. - -The parlour inside was by no means big enough to hold the crowding -guests, who therefore munched their bread and cheese and drank their -beer round the front door, without dismounting from their horses; but -Nina and Ayala with their friend the Colonel were taken inside to see -Mrs. Twentyman and her baby. "Now, Larry, what sort of a run was it?" -said the young mother. "Where did you find him, and what line did he -take?" - -"I'll tell you all about it when I come back; there are two young -ladies for you now to look after." Then he introduced his wife, and -the baby which was in her arms. "The little fellow is only six weeks -old, and yet she wanted to come to the meet. She'd have been riding -to hounds if I'd let her." - -"Why not?" said Mrs. Twentyman. "At any rate I might have gone in the -pony carriage and had baby with me." - -"Only six weeks old!" said Nina, stooping down and kissing the child. - -"He is a darling!" said Ayala. "I hope he'll go out hunting some -day." - -"He'll want to go six times a week if he's anything like his father," -said Mrs. Twentyman. - -"And seven times if he's like his mother," said Larry. Then again -they mounted their nags, and trotted off across the high roads to the -Bragton coverts. Mrs. Twentyman with her baby in her arms walked down -to the gate at the high road and watched them with longing eyes, till -Tony and the hounds were out of sight. - -Nothing further in the way of hunting was done that day which -requires to be recorded. They drew various coverts and found a fox or -two, but the scent, which had been so strong in the morning, seemed -to have gone, and the glory of the day was over. The two girls and -the Colonel remained companions during the afternoon, and succeeded -in making themselves merry over the incident of the brook. The -Colonel was in truth well pleased that Larry Twentyman should have -taken his place, though he probably would not have been gratified had -he seen Captain Batsby assume his duties. It had been his delight to -see the two girls ride, and he had been near enough to see them. He -was one of those men who, though fond of hunting, take no special -glory in it, and are devoid of the jealousy of riding. Not to have -a good place in a run was no worse to him than to lose a game of -billiards or a rubber of whist. Let the reader understand that this -trait in his character is not mentioned with approbation. "Always -to excel and to go ahead of everybody" should, the present writer -thinks, be in the heart of every man who rides to hounds. There was -in our Colonel a philosophical way of looking into the thing which -perhaps became him as a man, but was deleterious to his character as -a sportsman. - -"I do so hope you've enjoyed yourself, Ayala!" he said, as he lifted -her from her horse. - -"Indeed,--indeed, I have!" said Ayala, not noticing the use of her -Christian name. "I have been so happy, and I am so much obliged to -you!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -"YOU ARE NOT HE." - - -Ayala had been a week at Stalham, and according to the understanding -which had existed she should now have returned to Kingsbury Crescent. -She had come for a week, and she had had her week. Oh, what a week -it had been, so thoroughly happy, without a cloud, filled full with -ecstatic pleasures! Jonathan Stubbs had become to her the pleasantest -of friends. Lady Albury had covered her with caresses and little -presents. Nina was the most perfect of friends. Sir Harry had never -been cross, except for that one moment in the wood. And as for -Sprite,--Sprite had nearly realised her idea of an Angel of Light. -Oh, how happy she had been! She was to return on the Monday, having -thus comprised two Sundays within her elongated week. She knew -that her heaven was to be at an end; but she was grateful, and was -determined in her gratitude to be happy and cheerful to the close. -But early on this Sunday morning Colonel Stubbs spoke a word to Lady -Albury. "That little girl is so thoroughly happy here. Cannot you -prolong it for her just for another three days?" - -"Is it to be for her,--or for Colonel Stubbs, who is enamoured of the -little girl?" asked Lady Albury. - -"For both," said the Colonel, rather gravely. - -"Are you in earnest?" - -"What do you call earnest? I do love to see a pretty creature enjoy -herself thoroughly as she does. If you will make her stay till -Thursday Albury will let her ride the little horse again at Star -Cross on Wednesday." - -"Of course she shall stay,--all the season if you wish it. She is -indeed a happy girl if you are in earnest." - -Then it was settled, and Lady Albury in her happiest manner informed -Ayala that she was not to be allowed to take her departure till after -she had ridden Sprite once again. "Sir Harry says that you have given -the little horse quite a name, and that you must finish off his -character for him at Star Cross." As was the heart of the Peri when -the gate of Paradise was opened for her so was the heart of Ayala. -There were to be four days, with the fourth as a hunting-day, before -she need think of going! There was an eternity of bliss before her. - -"But Aunt Margaret!" she said, not, however, doubting for a moment -that she would stay. Who cares for a frowning aunt at the distance of -an eternity. I fear that in the ecstacy of her joy she had forgotten -the promise made, that she would always remember her aunt's goodness -to her. "I will write a note to Mrs. Dosett, and make it all -straight," said Lady Albury. The note was written, and, whether -matters were straight or crooked at Kingsbury Crescent, Ayala -remained at Albury. - -Colonel Stubbs had thought about the matter, and determined that he -was quite in earnest. He had, he told himself, enough for modest -living,--for modest living without poverty. More would come to him -when old General Stubbs, his uncle, should die. The general was -already past seventy. What was the use of independence if he could -not allow himself to have the girl whom he really loved? Had any -human being so perfectly lovely as Ayala ever flashed before his eyes -before? Was there ever a sweeter voice heard from a woman's mouth? -And then all her little ways and motions,--her very tricks,--how full -of charm they were! When she would open her eyes and nod her head, -and pout with her lips, he would declare to himself that he could no -longer live without her. And then every word that fell from her lips -seemed to have something in it of pretty humour. In fact the Colonel -was in love, and had now resolved that he would give way to his -love in spite of his aunt, the Marchesa, and in spite of his own -philosophy. - -He felt by no means sure of success, but yet he thought that he might -succeed. From the moment in which, as the reader may remember, he -had accosted her at the ball, and desired her to dance with him in -obedience to his aunt's behests, it had been understood by everyone -around him that Ayala had liked him. They had become fast friends. -Ayala allowed him to do many little things which, by some feminine -instinct of her own, would have been put altogether beyond the reach -of Captain Batsby. The Colonel knew all this, and knew at the same -time that he should not trust to it only. But still he could not but -trust to it in some degree. Lady Albury had told him that Ayala would -be a happy girl if he were in earnest, and he himself was well aware -of Ayala's dependent position, and of the discomforts of Kingsbury -Crescent. Ayala had spoken quite openly to him of Kingsbury Crescent -as to a confidential friend. But on all that he did not lean much -as being in his favour. He could understand that such a girl as -Ayala would not accept a husband merely with the object of avoiding -domestic poverty. Little qualms of doubt came upon him as he -remembered the nature of the girl, so that he confessed to himself -that Lady Albury knew nothing about it. But, nevertheless, he hoped. -His red hair and his ugly face had never yet stood against him among -the women with whom he had lived. He had been taught by popularity to -think himself a popular man;--and then Ayala had shown so many signs -of her friendship! - -There was shooting on Saturday, and he went out with the shooters, -saying nothing to any one of an intended early return; but at three -o'clock he was back at the house. Then he found that Ayala was out -in the carriage, and he waited. He sat in the library pretending to -read, till he heard the sounds of the carriage-wheels, and then he -met the ladies in the hall. "Are they all home from shooting?" asked -Lady Albury. The Colonel explained that no one was home but himself. -He had missed three cock-pheasants running, and had then come away in -disgust. "I am the most ignominious creature in existence," he said, -laughing; "one day I tumble into a ditch three feet wide--" - -"It was ten yards at least," said Nina, jealous as to the glory of -her jump. - -"And to-day I cannot hit a bird. I shall take to writing a book and -leave the severer pursuit of sport to more enterprising persons." -Then suddenly turning round he said to Ayala, "Are you good-natured -enough to come and take a walk with me in the shrubbery?" - -Ayala, taken somewhat by surprise at the request, looked up into -Lady Albury's face. "Go with him, my dear, if you are not tired," -said Lady Albury. "He deserves consolation after all his good deeds -to you." Ayala still doubted. Though she was on terms of pleasant -friendship with the man, yet she felt almost awestruck at this sudden -request that she should walk alone with him. But not to do so, -especially after Lady Albury's injunction, would have been peculiar. -She certainly was not tired, and had such a walk come naturally it -would have been an additional pleasure to her; but now, though she -went she hesitated, and showed her hesitation. - -"Are you afraid to come with me?" he said, as soon as they were out -on the gravel together. - -"Afraid! Oh, dear no, I should not be afraid to go anywhere with you, -I think; only it seemed odd that you did not ask Nina too." - -"Shall I tell you why?" - -"Why was it?" - -"Because I have something to say to you which I do not want Nina -to hear just at this moment. And then I thought that we were such -friends that you would not mind coming with me." - -"Of course we are," said Ayala. - -"I don't know why it should be so, but I seem to have known you years -instead of days." - -"Perhaps that is because you knew papa." - -"More likely because I have learnt to know your papa's daughter." - -"Do you mean Lucy?" - -"I mean Ayala." - -"That is saying the same thing twice over. You know me because you -know me." - -"Just that. How long do you suppose I have known that Mrs. Gregory, -who sat opposite to us yesterday?" - -"How can I tell?" - -"Just fifteen years. I was going to Harrow when she came as a young -girl to stay with my mother. Her people and my people had known -each other for the last fifty years. Since that I have seen her -constantly, and of course we are very intimate." - -"I suppose so." - -"I know as much about her after all that as if we had lived in two -different hemispheres and couldn't speak a word of each other's -language. There isn't a thought or a feeling in common between us. I -ask after her husband and her children, and then tell her it's going -to rain. She says something about the old General's health, and then -there is an end of everything between us. When next we meet we do it -all over again." - -"How very uninteresting!" said Ayala. - -"Very uninteresting. It is because there are so many Mrs. Gregorys -about that I like to go down to Drumcaller and live by myself. -Perhaps you're a Mrs. Gregory to somebody." - -"Why should I be a Mrs. Gregory? I don't think I am at all like Mrs. -Gregory." - -"Not to me, Ayala." Now she heard the "Ayala," and felt something -of what it meant. There had been moments at which she had almost -disliked to hear him call her Miss Dormer; but now,--now she wished -that he had not called her Ayala. She strove to assume a serious -expression of face, but having done so she could not dare to turn -it up towards him. The glance of her little anger, if there was any, -fell only upon the ground. "It is because you are to me a creature so -essentially different from Mrs. Gregory that I seem to know you so -well. I never want to go to Drumcaller if you are near me;--or, if I -think of Drumcaller, it is that I might be there with you." - -"I am sure the place is very pretty, but I don't suppose I shall ever -see it." - -"Do you know about your sister and Mr. Hamel?" - -"Yes," said Ayala, surprised. "She has told me all about it. How do -you know?" - -"He was staying at Drumcaller,--he and I together with no one -else,--when he went over to ask her. I never saw a man so happy as -when he came back from Glenbogie. He had got all that he wanted in -the world." - -"I do so love him because he loves her." - -"And I love her,--because she loves you." - -"It is not the same, you know," said Ayala, trying to think it all -out. - -"May I not love her?" - -"He is to be my brother. That's why I love him. She can't be your -sister." The poor girl, though she had tried to think it all out, had -not thought very far. - -"Can she not?" he said. - -"Of course not. Lucy is to marry Mr. Hamel." - -"And whom am I to marry?" Then she saw it all. "Ayala,--Ayala,--who -is to be my wife?" - -"I do not know," she said,--speaking with a gruff voice, but still in -a whisper, with a manner altogether different,--thinking how well it -would be that she should be taken at once back into the house. - -"Do you not know whom I would fain have as my wife?" Then he felt -that it behoved him to speak out plainly. He was already sure that -she would not at once tell him that it should be as he would have -it,--that she would not instantly throw herself into his arms. But he -must speak plainly to her, and then fight his cause as best he might. -"Ayala, I have asked you to come out with me that I might ask you to -be my wife. It is that that I did not wish Nina to hear at once. If -you will put out your hand and say that it shall be so, Nina and all -the world shall know it. I shall be as proud then as Hamel, and as -happy,--happier, I think. It seems to me that no one can love as I -do now, Ayala; it has grown upon me from hour to hour as I have seen -you. When I first took you away to that dance it was so already. Do -you remember that night at the theatre,--when I had come away from -everything and striven so hard that I might be near to you before you -went back to your home? Ayala, I loved you then so dearly;--but not -as I love you now. When I saw you riding away from me yesterday, when -I could not get over the brook, I told myself that unless I might -catch you at last, and have you all to myself, I could never again be -happy. Do you remember when you stooped down and kissed that man's -baby at the farm-house? Oh, Ayala, I thought then that if you would -not be my wife,--if you would not be my wife,--I should never have -wife, never should have baby, never should have home of my own." -She walked on by his side, listening, but she had not a word to say -to him. It had been easy enough to her to reject and to rebuke and -to scorn Tom Tringle, when he had persisted in his suit; but she -knew not with what words to reject this man who stood so high in -her estimation, who was in many respects so perfect, whom she so -thoroughly liked,--but whom, nevertheless, she must reject. He was -not the Angel of Light,--could never be the Angel of Light. There -was nothing there of the azure wings upon which should soar the all -but celestial being to whom she could condescend to give herself and -her love. He was pleasant, good, friendly, kind-hearted,--all that -a friend or a brother should be; but he was not the Angel of Light. -She was sure of that. She told herself that she was quite sure of it, -as she walked beside him in silence along the path. "You know what -I mean, Ayala, when I tell you that I love you," he continued. But -still she made no answer. "I have seen at last the one human being -with whom I feel that I can be happy to spend my life, and, having -seen her, I ask her to be my wife. The hope has been dwelling with me -and growing since I first met you. Shall it be a vain hope? Ayala, -may I still hope?" - -"No," she said, abruptly. - -"Is that all?" - -"It is all that I can say." - -"Is that one 'no' to be the end of everything between us?" - -"I don't know what else I ought to say to you, Colonel Stubbs." - -"Do you mean that you can never love me?" - -"Never," she said. - -"That is a hard word,--and hardly friendly. Is there to be no more -than one hard word between you and me? Though I did not venture -to think that you could tell me that you loved me, I looked for -something kinder, something gentler than that." - - - "From such a sharp and waspish word as 'no,' - To pluck the sting!" - - -Ayala did not know the lines I have quoted, but the idea conveyed in -them was present clearly to her mind. She would fain have told him, -had she known how to do so, that her heart was very gentle towards -him, was very kind, gentle and kind as a sister's;--but that she -could not love him, so as to become his wife. "You are not he,--not -he, not that Angel of Light, which must come to me, radiant with -poetry, beautiful to the eye, full of all excellences of art, lifted -above the earth by the qualities of his mind,--such a one as must -come to me if it be that I am ever to confess that I love. You are -not he, and I cannot love you. But you shall be the next to him in my -estimation, and you are already so dear to me that I would be tender -to you, would be gentle,--if only I knew how." It was all there, -clear enough in her mind, but she had not the words. "I don't know -what it is that I ought to say," she exclaimed through her sobs. - -"The truth, at any rate," he answered, sternly, "but not the truth, -half and half, after the fashion of some young ladies. Do not think -that you should palter with the truth either because it may not be -palatable to me, or seem decorous to yourself. To my happiness this -matter is all important, and you are something to my happiness, if -only because I have risked it on your love. Tell me;--why cannot you -love me?" - -The altered tone of his voice, which now had in it something of -severity, seemed to give her more power. - -"It is because--" Then she paused. - -"Because why? Out with it, whatever it is. If it be something that -a man may remedy I will remedy it. Do not fear to hurt me. Is it -because I am ugly? That I cannot remedy." She did not dare to tell -him that it was so, but she looked up at him, not dissenting by any -motion of her head. "Then God help me, for ugly I must remain." - -"It is not that only." - -"Is it because my name is Stubbs--Jonathan Stubbs?" Now she did -assent, nodding her head at him. He had bade her tell him the truth, -and she was so anxious to do as he bade her! "If it be so, Ayala, I -must tell you that you are wrong,--wrong and foolish; that you are -carried away by a feeling of romance, which is a false romance. Far -be it from me to say that I could make you happy, but I am sure that -your happiness cannot be made and cannot be marred by such accidents -as that. Do you think that my means are not sufficient?" - -"No;--no," she cried; "I know nothing of your means. If I could love -you I would not condescend to ask,--even to hear." - -"There is no other man, I think?" - -"There is no other man." - -"But your imagination has depicted to you something grander than I -am,"--then she assented quickly, turning round and nodding her head -to him,--"some one who shall better respond to that spirit of poetry -which is within you?" Again she nodded her head approvingly, as -though to assure him that now he knew the whole truth. "Then, Ayala, -I must strive to soar till I can approach your dreams. But, if you -dare to desire things which are really grand, do not allow yourself -to be mean at the same time. Do not let the sound of a name move you, -or I shall not believe in your aspirations. Now shall I take you back -to the house?" - -Back to the house they went, and there was not another word spoken -between them. By those last words of his she had felt herself to be -rebuked. If it were possible that he could ask her again whether that -sound, Jonathan Stubbs, had anything to do with it, she would let him -know now, by some signal, that she no longer found a barrier in the -name. But there were other barriers,--barriers which he himself had -not pretended to call vain. As to his ugliness, that he had confessed -he could not remedy; calling on God to pity him because he was so. -And as for that something grander which he had described, and for -which her soul sighed, he had simply said that he would seek for it. -She was sure that he would not find it. It was not to such as he that -the something grander,--which was to be the peculiar attribute of -the Angel of Light,--could be accorded. But he had owned that the -something grander might exist. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -"THE FINEST HERO THAT I EVER KNEW." - - -The Colonel and Ayala returned to the house without a word. When they -were passing through the hall she turned to go at once up the stairs -to her own room. As she did so he put out his hand to her, and she -took it. But she passed on without speaking, and when she was alone -she considered it over all in her own mind. There could be no doubt -that she was right. Of that she was quite sure. It was certainly a -fixed law that a girl should not marry a man unless she loved him. -She did not love this man, and therefore she ought not to marry him. -But there were some qualms at her heart as to the possible reality -of the image which she had created for her own idolatry. And she had -been wounded when he told her that she should not allow herself to be -mean amidst her soarings. She had been wounded, and yet she knew that -he had been right. He had intended to teach her the same lesson when -he told her the absurd story of the woman who had been flung out of -the window. She could not love him; but that name of his should never -again be a reason for not doing so. Let the Angel of Light come to -her with his necessary angelic qualities, and no want of euphony in -a sound should be a barrier to him. Nor in truth could any outside -appearance be an attribute of angelic light. The Angel of Light might -be there even with red hair. Something as to the truth of this also -came across her, though the Colonel had not rebuked her on that head. - -But how should she carry herself now during the four days which -remained to her at Stalham Park? All the loveliness seemed to depart -from her prospect. She would hardly know how to open her mouth before -her late friend. She suspected that Lady Albury knew with what -purpose the Colonel had taken her out into the shrubbery, and she -would not dare to look Lady Albury in the face. How should she answer -Nina if Nina were to ask her questions about the walk. The hunt -for next Wednesday was no longer a delight to which she could look -forward. How would it be possible that Colonel Stubbs should direct -her now as to her riding, and instruct her as to her conduct in the -hunting-field? It would be better for her that she should return at -once to Kingsbury Crescent. - -As she thought of this there did come upon her a reflection that had -she been able to accept Colonel Stubbs's offer there would have been -an end for ever to the miseries of her aunt's house. She would have -been lifted at once into the mode of life in which the man lived. -Instead of being a stranger admitted by special grace into such an -Elysium as that of Stalham Park, she would become one of those to -whom such an Elysium belonged almost of right. By her own gifts she -would have won her way into that upper and brighter life which seemed -to her to be all smiles and all joy. As to his income she thought -nothing and cared nothing. He lived with men who had horses and -carriages, and who spent their time in pleasurable pursuits. And she -would live amidst ladies who were always arrayed in bright garments, -who, too, had horses and carriages at their command, and were never -troubled by those sordid cares which made life at Kingsbury Crescent -so sad and tedious. One little word would have done it all for her, -would have enabled her to take the step by which she would be placed -among the bright ones of the earth. - -But the remembrance of all this only made her firmer in her -resolution. If there was any law of right and wrong fixed absolutely -in her bosom, it was this,--that no question of happiness or -unhappiness, of suffering or joy, would affect her duty to the Angel -of Light. She owed herself to him should he come to seek her. She -owed herself to him no less, even should he fail to come. And she -owed herself equally whether he should be rich or poor. As she was -fortifying herself with these assurances, Nina came to ask her -whether she would not come down to tea. Ayala pleaded headache, and -said that she would rest till dinner. "Has anything happened?" asked -Nina. Ayala simply begged that she might be asked no questions then, -because her head was aching. "If you do not tell me everything, I -shall think you are no true friend," said Nina, as she left the room. - -As evening drew on she dressed for dinner, and went down into the -drawing-room. In doing so it was necessary to pass through the -billiard-room, and there she found Colonel Stubbs, knocking about the -balls. "Are you dressed for dinner?" he exclaimed; "I haven't begun -to think of it yet, and Sir Harry hates a man when he comes in late. -That wretch Batsby has beaten me four games." With that he rushed -off, putting down the cue with a rattle, and seeming to Ayala to have -recovered altogether from the late prostration of his spirits. - -In the drawing-room Ayala was for a few minutes alone, and then, as -she was glad to see, three or four ladies all came in at once, so -that no question could be asked her by Lady Albury. They went into -dinner without the Colonel, who was in truth late, and she was taken -in by Mr. Gosling, whose pretty little wife was just opposite to her. -On the other side of her sat Lord Rufford, who had come to Stalham -with his wife for a day or two, and who immediately began to -congratulate her on the performance of the day before. "I am told -you jumped the Cranbury Brook," he said. "I should as soon think of -jumping the Serpentine." - -"I did it because somebody told me." - -"Ah," said Lord Rufford, with a sigh, "there is nothing like -ignorance, innocence, and youth combined. But why didn't Colonel -Stubbs get over after you?" - -"Because Colonel Stubbs couldn't," said that gentleman, as he took -his seat in the vacant chair. - -"It may be possible," said Sir Harry, "that a gentleman should not be -able to jump over Cranbury Brook; but any gentleman, if he will take -a little trouble, may come down in time for dinner." - -"Now that I have been duly snubbed right and left," said the Colonel, -"perhaps I may eat my soup." - -Ayala, who had expected she hardly knew what further troubles, and -who had almost feared that nobody would speak to her because she had -misbehaved herself, endeavoured to take heart of grace when she found -that all around her, including the Colonel himself, were as pleasant -as ever. She had fancied that Lady Albury had looked at her specially -when Colonel Stubbs took his seat, and she had specially noticed the -fact that his chair had not been next her own. These little matters -she was aware Lady Albury managed herself, and was aware also that in -accordance with the due rotation of things she and the Colonel should -have been placed together. She was glad that it was not so, but at -the same time she was confident that Lady Albury knew something of -what had passed between herself and her suitor. The evening, however, -went off easily, and nothing occurred to disturb her except that -the Colonel had called her by her Christian name, when as usual he -brought to her a cup of tea in the drawing-room. Oh, that he would -continue to do so, and yet not demand from her more than their old -friendship! - -The next morning was Sunday, and they all went to church. It was a -law at Stalham that everyone should go to church on Sunday morning. -Sir Harry himself, who was not supposed to be a peculiarly religious -man, was always angry when any male guest did not show himself in the -enormous family pew. "I call it d---- indecent," he has been heard -to say. But nobody was expected to go twice,--and consequently -nobody ever did go twice. Lunch was protracted later than usual. The -men would roam about the grounds with cigars in their mouths, and -ladies would take to reading in their own rooms, in following which -occupation they would spend a considerable part of the afternoon -asleep. On this afternoon Lady Albury did not go to sleep, but -contrived to get Ayala alone upstairs into her little sitting-room. -"Ayala," she said, with something between a smile and a frown, "I am -afraid I am going to be angry with you." - -"Please don't be angry, Lady Albury." - -"If I am right in what I surmise, you had an offer made to you -yesterday which ought to satisfy the heart of almost any girl in -England." Here she paused, but Ayala had not a word to say for -herself. "If it was so, the best man I know asked you to share his -fortune with him." - -"Has he told you?" - -"But he did?" - -"I shall not tell," said Ayala, proudly. - -"I know he did. I knew that it was his intention before. Are you -aware what kind of man is my cousin, Jonathan Stubbs? Has it occurred -to you that in truth and gallantry, in honour, honesty, courage, and -real tenderness, he is so perfect as to be quite unlike to the crowd -of men you see?" - -"I do know that he is good," said Ayala. - -"Good! Where will you find any one good like him? Compare him to the -other men around him, and then say whether he is good! Can it be -possible that you should refuse the love of such a man as that?" - -"I don't think I ought to be made to talk about it," said Ayala, -hesitating. - -"My dear, it is for your own sake and for his. When you go away from -here it may be so difficult for him to see you again." - -"I don't suppose he will ever want," said Ayala. - -"It is sufficient that he wants it now. What better can you expect -for yourself?" - -"I expect nothing," said Ayala, proudly. "I have got nothing, and I -expect nothing." - -"He will give you everything, simply because he loves you. My dear, -I should not take the trouble to tell you all this, did I not know -that he is a man who ought to be accepted when he asks such a request -as that. Your happiness would be safe in his hands." She paused, but -Ayala had not a word to say. "And he is not a man likely to renew -such a request. He is too proud for that. I can conceive no possible -reason for such a refusal unless it be that you are engaged. If there -be some one else, then of course there must be an end of it." - -"There is no one else." - -"Then, my dear, with your prospects it is sheer folly. When the -General dies he will have over two thousand a year." - -"As if that had anything to do with it!" said Ayala, holding herself -aloft in her wrath, and throwing angry glances at the lady. - -"It is what I call romance," said Lady Albury. "Romance can never -make you happy." - -"At any rate it is not riches. What you call romance may be what I -like best. At any rate if I do not love Colonel Stubbs I am sure I -ought not to marry him;--and I won't." - -After this there was nothing further to be said. Ayala thought that -she would be turned out of the room,--almost out of the house, in -disgrace. But Lady Albury, who was simply playing her part, was -not in the least angry. "Well, my dear," she said, "pray,--pray, -think better of it. I am in earnest, of course, because of my -cousin,--because he seems to have put his heart upon it. He is just -the man to be absolutely in love when he is in love. But I would -not speak as I do unless I were sure that he would make you happy. -My cousin Jonathan is to me the finest hero that I know. When a -man is a hero he shouldn't be broken-hearted for want of a woman's -smiles,--should he?" - -"She ought not to smile unless she loves him," said Ayala, as she -left the room. - -The Monday and Tuesday went very quietly. Lady Albury said nothing -more on the great subject, and the Colonel behaved himself exactly -as though there had been no word of love at all. There was nothing -special said about the Wednesday's hunt through the two days, till -Ayala almost thought that there would be no hunt for her. Nor, -indeed, did she much wish for it. It had been the Colonel who had -instigated her to deeds of daring, and under his sanction that she -had ventured to ride. She would hardly know how to go through the -Wednesday,--whether still to trust him, or whether to hold herself -aloof from him. When nothing was said on the subject till late on -the evening of the Tuesday, she had almost resolved that she would -not put on her habit when the morning came. But just as she was about -to leave the drawing-room with her bed-candle Colonel Stubbs came to -her. "Most of us ride to the meet to-morrow," he said; "but you and -Nina shall be taken in the waggonette so as to save you a little. -It is all arranged." She bowed and thanked him, going to bed almost -sorry that it should have been so settled. When the morning came Nina -could not ride. She had hurt her foot, and, coming early into Ayala's -room, declared with tears that she could not go. "Then neither shall -I," said Ayala, who was at that moment preparing to put on her habit. - -"But you must. It is all settled, and Sir Harry would be offended if -you did not go. What has Jonathan done that you should refuse to ride -with him because I am lame?" - -"Nothing," said Ayala. - -"Oh, Ayala, do tell me. I should tell you everything. Of course you -must hunt whatever it is. Even though he should have offered and you -refused him, of course you must go." - -"Must I?" said Ayala. - -"Then you have refused him?" - -"I have. Oh, Nina, pray do not speak of it. Do not think of it if you -can help it. Why should everything be disturbed because I have been a -fool?" - -"Then you think you have been a fool?" - -"Other people think so; but if so I shall at any rate be constant to -my folly. What I mean is, that it has been done, and should be passed -over as done with. I am quite sure that I ought not to be scolded; -but Lady Albury did scold me." Then they went down together to -breakfast, Ayala having prepared herself properly for the -hunting-field. - -In the waggonette there were with her Lady Albury, Mrs. Gosling, and -Nina, who was not prevented by her lameness from going to the meet. -The gentlemen all rode, so that there was no immediate difficulty -as to Colonel Stubbs. But when she had been put on her horse by -his assistance and found herself compelled to ride away from the -carriage, apparently under his especial guidance, her heart misgave -her, and she thoroughly wished that she was at home in the Crescent. -Though she was specially under his guidance there were at first -others close around her, and, while they were on the road going to -the covert which they were to draw, conversation was kept up so that -it was not necessary for her to speak;--but what should she do when -she should find herself alone with him as would certainly soon be the -case? It soon was the case. The hounds were at work in a large wood -in which she was told they might possibly pass the best part of the -day, and it was not long before the men had dispersed themselves, -some on this side some on that, and she found herself with no one -near her but the Colonel. "Ayala," he said, "of course you know that -it is my duty to look after you, and to do it better if I can than I -did on Friday." - -"I understand," she said. - -"Do not let any remembrance of that walk on Saturday interfere with -your happiness to-day. Who knows when you may be out hunting again?" - -"Never!" she said; "I don't suppose I shall ever hunt again." - -"Carpe diem," he said, laughing. "Do you know what 'carpe diem' -means?" - -"It is Latin perhaps." - -"Yes; and therefore you are not supposed to understand it. This is -what it means. As an hour for joy has come, do not let any trouble -interfere with it. Let it all be, for this day at least, as though -there had been no walk in the Stalham Woods. There is Larry -Twentyman. If I break down as I did on Friday you may always trust to -him. Larry and you are old friends now." - -"Carpe diem," she said to herself. "Oh, yes; if it were only -possible. How is one to 'carpe diem' with one's heart full of -troubles?" And it was the less possible because this man whom she -had rejected was so anxious to do everything for her happiness. Lady -Albury had told her that he was a hero,--that he was perfect in -honour, honesty, and gallantry; and she felt inclined to own that -Lady Albury was almost right. Yet,--yet how far was he from that -image of manly perfection which her daily thoughts had created for -her! Could she have found an appropriate word with which to thank -him she would have done so; but there was no such word, and Larry -Twentyman was now with them, taking off his hat and overflowing with -compliments. "Oh, Miss Dormer, I am so delighted to see you out -again." - -"How is the baby, Mr. Twentyman?" - -"Brisk as a bee, and hungry as a hunter." - -"And how is Mrs. Twentyman?" - -"Brisker and hungrier than the baby. What do you think of the day, -Colonel?" - -"A very good sort of day, Twentyman, if we were anywhere out of these -big woods." Larry shook his head solemnly. The Mudcombe Woods in -which they were now at work had been known to occupy Tony Tappett -and his whole pack from eleven o'clock till the dusk of evening. -"We've got to draw them, of course," continued the Colonel. Then Mr. -Twentyman discoursed at some length on the excellence of Mudcombe -Woods. What would any county be without a nursery for young foxes? -Gorse-coverts, hedge-rows, and little spinneys would be of no avail -unless there were some grandly wild domain in which maternal and -paternal foxes could roam in comparative security. All this was just -as Ayala would have it, because it enabled her to ask questions, and -saved her from subjects which might be painful to her. - -The day, in truth, was not propitious to hunting even. Foxes were -found in plenty, and two of them were killed within the recesses of -the wood; but on no occasion did they run a mile into the open. For -Ayala it was very well, because she was galloping hither and thither, -and because before the day was over she found herself able to talk to -the Colonel in her wonted manner; but there was no great glory for -her as had been the glory of Little Cranbury Brook. - -On the next morning she was taken back to London and handed over -to her aunt in Kingsbury Crescent without another word having been -spoken by Colonel Stubbs in reference to his love. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -LADY ALBURY'S LETTER. - - -"I have had a letter from Lady Albury," said Aunt Margaret, almost as -soon as Ayala had taken off her hat and cloak. - -"Yes, I know, Aunt Margaret. She wrote to ask that I might stay for -four more days. I hope it was not wrong." - -"I have had another letter since that, on Monday, about it; I have -determined to show it you. There it is. You had better read it by -yourself, and I will come to you again in half an hour." Then, very -solemnly, but with no trace of ill-humour, Mrs. Dosett left the room. -There was something in her tone and gait so exceedingly solemn that -Ayala was almost frightened. Of course, the letter must be about -Colonel Stubbs, and, of course, the writer of it would find fault -with her. She was conscious that she was adding one to her terribly -long list of sins in not consenting to marry Colonel Stubbs. It was -her misfortune that all her friends found fault with everything that -she did. Among them there was not one, not even Nina, who fully -sympathised with her. Not even to Lucy could she expatiate with a -certainty of sympathy in regard to the Angel of Light. And now, -though her aunt was apparently not angry,--only solemn,--she felt -already sure that she was to be told that it was her duty to marry -Colonel Stubbs. It was only the other day that her aunt was preaching -to her as to the propriety of marrying her cousin Tom. It seemed, she -said to herself, that people thought that a girl was bound to marry -any man who could provide a house for her, and bread to eat, and -clothes to wear. All this passed through her mind as she slowly drew -Lady Albury's letter from the envelope and prepared to read it. The -letter was as follows:-- - - - Stalham, Monday, 18th November, 18--. - - DEAR MADAM, - - Your niece will return to you, as you request, on - Thursday, but before she reaches you I think it my duty - to inform you of a little circumstance which has occurred - here. My cousin, Colonel Jonathan Stubbs, who is also - the nephew of the Marchesa Baldoni, has made Miss Dormer - an offer. I am bound to add that I did not think it - improbable that it would be so, when I called on your - husband, and begged him to allow your niece to come to - us. I did not then know my cousin's intention as a fact. - I doubt whether he knew it himself; but from what I had - heard I thought it probable, and, as I conceive that any - young lady would be fortunate in becoming my cousin's - wife, I had no scruple. - - He has proposed to her, and she has rejected him. He has - set his heart upon the matter, and I am most anxious that - he should succeed, because I know him to be a man who - will not easily brook disappointment where he has set his - heart. Of all men I know he is the most steadfast in his - purpose. - - I took the liberty of speaking to your niece on the - subject, and am disposed to think that she is deferred - by some feeling of foolish romance, partly because she - does not like the name, partly because my cousin is not a - handsome man in a girl's eyes;--more probably, however, - she has built up to herself some poetic fiction, and - dreams of she knows not what. If it be so, it is a pity - that she should lose an opportunity of settling herself - well and happily in life. She gave as a reason that she - did not love him. My experience is not so long as yours, - perhaps, but such as I have has taught me to think that - a wife will love her husband when she finds herself used - well at all points. Mercenary marriages are, of course, - bad: but it is a pity, I think, that a girl, such as your - niece, should lose the chance of so much happiness by a - freak of romance. - - Colonel Stubbs, who is only twenty-eight years of age, has - a staff appointment at Aldershot. He has private means of - his own, on which alone he would be justified in marrying. - On the death of his uncle, General Stubbs, he will inherit - a considerable accession of fortune. He is not, of course, - a rich man; but he has ample for the wants of a family. - In all other good gifts, temper, manliness, truth, and - tenderness, I know no one to excel him. I should trust any - young friend of my own into his hands with perfect safety. - - I have thought it right to tell you this. You will use - your own judgment in saying what you think fit to your - niece. Should she be made to understand that her own - immediate friends approve of the offer, she would probably - be induced to accept it. I have not heard my cousin say - what may be his future plans. I think it possible that, - as he is quite in earnest, he will not take one repulse. - Should he ask again, I hope that your niece may receive - him with altered views. - - Pray believe me to be, my dear Madam, - Yours sincerely, - - ROSALINE ALBURY. - - -Ayala read the letter twice over before her aunt returned to her, -and, as she read it, felt something of a feeling of renewed kindness -come upon her in reference to the writer of it;--not that she was -in the least changed in her own resolution, but that she liked Lady -Albury for wishing to change her. The reasons given, however, were -altogether impotent with her. Colonel Stubbs had the means of keeping -a wife! If that were a reason then also ought she to marry her -cousin, Tom Tringle. Colonel Stubbs was good and true; but so also -very probably was Tom Tringle. She would not compare the two men. She -knew that her cousin Tom was altogether distasteful to her, while she -took delight in the companionship of the Colonel. But the reasons -for marrying one were to her thinking as strong as for marrying the -other. There could be only one valid excuse for marriage,--that of -adoring the man;--and she was quite sure that she did not adore -Colonel Jonathan Stubbs. Lady Albury had said in her letter, that a -girl would be sure to love a man who treated her well after marriage; -but that would not suffice for her. Were she to marry at all, it -would be necessary that she should love the man before her marriage. - -"Have you read the letter, my dear?" said Mrs. Dosett, as she entered -the room and closed the door carefully behind her. She spoke almost -in a whisper, and seemed to be altogether changed by the magnitude of -the occasion. - -"Yes, Aunt Margaret, I have read it." - -"I suppose it is true?" - -"True! It is true in part." - -"You did meet this Colonel Stubbs?" - -"Oh, yes; I met him." - -"And you had met him before?" - -"Yes, Aunt Margaret. He used to come to Brook Street. He is the -Marchesa's nephew." - -"Did he--" This question Aunt Margaret asked in a very low whisper, -and her most solemn voice. "Did he make love to you in Brook Street?" - -"No," said Ayala, sharply. - -"Not at all?" - -"Not at all. I never thought of such a thing. I never dreamed of such -a thing when he began talking to me out in the woods at Stalham on -Saturday." - -"Had you been--been on friendly terms with him?" - -"Very friendly terms. We were quite friends, and used to talk about -all manner of things. I was very fond of him, and never afraid of -anything that he said to me. He was Nina's cousin and seemed almost -to be my cousin too." - -"Then you do like him?" - -"Of course I do. Everybody must like him. But that is no reason why I -should want to marry him." - -Upon this Mrs. Dosett sat silent for awhile turning the great matter -over in her thoughts. It was quite clear to her that every word which -Ayala had spoken was true; and probable also that Lady Albury's words -were true. In her inmost thoughts she regarded Ayala as a fool. Here -was a girl who had not a shilling of her own, who was simply a burden -on relatives whom she did not especially love, who was doomed to -a life which was essentially distasteful to her,--for all this in -respect to herself and her house Mrs. Dosett had sense enough to -acknowledge,--who seemed devoted to the society of rich and gay -people, and yet would not take the opportunities that were offered -her of escaping what she disliked and going to that which she -loved! Two offers had now been made to her, both of them thoroughly -eligible, to neither of which would objection have been made by -any of the persons concerned. Sir Thomas had shown himself to be -absolutely anxious for the success of his son. And now it seemed that -the grand relations of this Colonel Stubbs were in favour of the -match. What it was in Ayala that entitled her to such promotion Mrs. -Dosett did not quite perceive. To her eyes her niece was a fantastic -girl, pretty indeed, but not endowed with that regular tranquil -beauty which she thought to be of all feminine graces the most -attractive. Why Tom Tringle should have been so deeply smitten with -Ayala had been a marvel to her; and now this story of Colonel Stubbs -was a greater marvel. "Ayala," she said, "you ought to think better -of it." - -"Think better of what, Aunt Margaret?" - -"You have seen what this Lady Albury says about her cousin, Colonel -Stubbs." - -"What has that to do with it?" - -"You believe what she says? If so why should you not accept him?" - -"Because I can't," said Ayala. - -"Have you any idea what is to become of your future life?" said Mrs. -Dosett, very gravely. - -"Not in the least," said Ayala. But that was a fib, because she had -an idea that in the fullness of time it would be her heavenly fate to -put her hand into that of the Angel of Light. - -"Gentlemen won't come running after you always, my dear." - -This was almost as bad as being told by her Aunt Emmeline that she -had encouraged her cousin Tom. "It's a great shame to say that. I -don't want anybody to run after me. I never did." - -"No, my dear; no. I don't think that you ever did." Mrs. Dosett, who -was justice itself, did acknowledge to herself that of any such fault -as that suggested, Ayala was innocent. Her fault was quite in the -other direction, and consisted of an unwillingness to settle herself -and to free her relations of the burden of maintaining her when -proper opportunities arose for doing so. "I only want to explain -to you that people must,--must,--must make their hay while the sun -shines. You are young now." - -"I am not one-and-twenty yet," said Ayala, proudly. - -"One-and-twenty is a very good time for a girl to marry,--that is to -say if a proper sort of gentleman asks her." - -"I don't think I ought to be scolded because they don't seem to me to -be the proper sort. I don't want anybody to come. Nobody ought to be -talked to about it at all. If I cared about any one that you or Uncle -Reginald did not approve, then you might talk to me. But I don't -think that anything ought to be said about anybody unless I like him -myself." So the conversation was over, and Mrs. Dosett felt that she -had been entirely vanquished. - -Lady Albury's letter was shown to Mr. Dosett, but he refused to say -a word to his niece on the subject. In the argument which followed -between him and his wife he took his niece's part, opposing -altogether that idea that hay should be made while the sun shines. -"It simply means selling herself," said Mr. Dosett. - -"That is nonsense, Reginald. Of course such a girl as Ayala has to -do the best she can with her good looks. What else has she to depend -upon?" - -"My brother-in-law will do something for her." - -"I hope he will,--though I do not think that a very safe reed to -depend upon as she has twice offended him. But of course a girl -thinks of marrying. Ayala would be very much disgusted if she were -told that she was to be an old maid, and live upon L100 a year -supplied by Sir Thomas's bounty. It might have been that she would -have to do it;--but now that chances are open she ought to take them. -She should choose between her cousin Tom and this Colonel Stubbs; -and you should tell her that, if she will not, you will no longer be -responsible for her." - -To this Mr. Dosett turned altogether a deaf ear. He was quite sure -that his responsibility must be continued till Ayala should marry, -or till he should die, and he would not make a threat which he would -certainly be unable to carry out. He would be very glad if Ayala -could bring herself to marry either of the young men. It was a pity -that she should feel herself compelled to refuse offers so excellent. -But it was a matter for her own judgment, and one in which he would -not interfere. For two days this almost led to a coldness between the -man and his wife, during which the sufferings of poor Mrs. Dosett -were heartrending. - -Not many days after Ayala's return her sister Lucy came to see her. -Certain reasons had caused Lady Tringle to stay at Glenbogie longer -than usual, and the family was now passing through London on their -way to Merle Park. Perhaps it was the fact that the Trafficks had -been effectually extruded from Glenbogie, but would doubtless turn up -at Merle Park, should Lady Tringle take up her residence there before -the autumn was over. That they should spend their Christmas at Merle -Park was an acknowledged thing;--to mamma Tringle an acknowledged -benefit, because she liked to have her daughter with her; to papa -Tringle an acknowledged evil, because he could not endure to be made -to give more than he intended to give. That they should remain there -afterwards through January, and till the meeting of Parliament, was -to be expected. But it was hoped that they might be driven to find -some home for themselves if they were left homeless by Sir Thomas for -awhile. The little plan was hardly successful, as Mr. Traffick had -put his wife into lodgings at Hastings, ready to pounce down on Merle -Park as soon as Lady Tringle should have occupied the house a few -days. Lady Tringle was now going there with the rest of the family, -Sir Thomas having been in town for the last six weeks. - -Lucy took advantage of the day which they passed in London, and -succeeded in getting across to the Crescent. At this time she had -heard nothing of Colonel Stubbs, and was full indeed of her own -troubles. - -"You haven't seen him?" she said to her sister. - -"Seen who?" asked Ayala, who had two "hims" to her bow,--and thought -at the moment rather of her own two "hims" than of Lucy's one. - -"Isadore. He said that he would call here." Ayala explained that she -had not seen him, having been absent from town during the last ten -days,--during which Mr. Hamel had in fact called at the house. -"Ayala," continued Lucy, "what am I to do?" - -"Stick to him," said Ayala, firmly. - -"Of course I shall. But Aunt Emmeline thinks that I ought to give him -up or--" - -"Or what?" - -"Or go away," said Lucy, very gravely. - -"Where would you go to?" - -"Oh, where indeed? Of course he would have me, but it would be ruin -to him to marry a wife without a penny when he earns only enough for -his own wants. His father has quarrelled with him altogether. He says -that nobody can prevent our being married if we please, and that he -is quite ready to make a home for me instantly; but I know that last -year he hardly earned more than two hundred pounds after paying all -his expenses, and were I to take him at his word I should ruin him." - -"Would Uncle Tom turn you out?" - -"He has been away almost ever since Mr. Hamel came to Glenbogie, and -I do not know what he will say. Aunt Emmeline declares that I can -only stay with them just as though I were her daughter, and that a -daughter would be bound to obey her." - -"Does Gertrude obey her about Mr. Houston?" - -"Gertrude has her own way with her mother altogether. And of course a -daughter cannot really be turned out. If she tells me to go I suppose -I must go." - -"I should ask Uncle Tom," said Ayala. "She could not make you go out -into the street. When she had to get rid of me, she could send me -here in exchange; but she can't say now that you don't suit, and have -me back again." - -"Oh, Ayala, it is so miserable. I feel that I do not know what to do -with myself." - -"Nor do I," said Ayala, jumping up from the bed on which she was -sitting. "It does seem to be so cross-grained. Nobody will let you -marry, and everybody will make me." - -"Do they still trouble you about Tom?" - -"It is not Tom now, Lucy. Another man has come up." - -"As a lover?" - -"Oh, yes; quite so. His name is,--such a name, Lucy,--his name is -Colonel Jonathan Stubbs." - -"That is Isadore's friend,--the man who lives at Drumcaller." - -"Exactly. He told me that Mr. Hamel was at Drumcaller with him. And -now he wants me to be his wife." - -"Do you not like him?" - -"That is the worst part of it all, Lucy. If I did not like him I -should not mind it half so much. It is just because I like him so -very much that I am so very unhappy. His hair is just the colour of -Aunt Emmeline's big shawl." - -"What does that signify?" - -"And his mouth stretches almost from ear to ear." - -"I shouldn't care a bit for his mouth." - -"I don't think I do much, because he does look so good-natured when -he laughs. Indeed he is always the most good-natured man that ever -lived." - -"Has he got an income enough for marriage?" asked Lucy, whose sorrows -were already springing from that most fertile source of sorrowing. - -"Plenty they tell me,--though I do not in the least know what plenty -means." - -"Then Ayala why should you not have him?" - -"Because I can't," said Ayala. "How is a girl to love a man if she -does not love him. Liking has nothing to do with it. You don't think -liking ought to have anything to do with it?" - -This question had not been answered when Aunt Margaret came into the -room, declaring that the Tringle man-servant, who had walked across -the park with Miss Dormer, was waxing impatient. The sisters, -therefore, were separated, and Lucy returned to Queen's Gate. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -MISS DOCIMER. - - -"I tell you fairly that I think you altogether wrong;--that it is -cowardly, unmanly, and disgraceful. I don't mean, you see, to put -what you call a fine point upon it." - -"No, you don't." - -"It is one of those matters on which a person must speak the truth or -not speak at all. I should not have spoken unless you forced it upon -me. You don't care for her in the least." - -"That's true. I do not know that I am especially quick at what you -call caring for young ladies. If I care for anybody it is for you." - -"I suppose so; but that may as well be dropped for the present. You -mean to marry this girl simply because she has got a lot of money?" - -"Exactly that;--as you before long will marry some gentleman only -because he has got money." - -"You have no right to say so because I am engaged to no man. But if -I were so it is quite different. Unless I marry I can be nobody. I -can have no existence that I can call my own. I have no other way of -pushing myself into the world's notice. You are a man." - -"You mean to say that I could become a merchant or a lawyer,--be a -Lord Chancellor in time, or perhaps an Archbishop of Canterbury." - -"You can live and eat and drink and go where you wish without being -dependent on any one. If I had your freedom and your means do you -think that I would marry for money?" - -In this dialogue the main part was taken by Mr. Frank Houston, whose -ambition it was to marry Miss Gertrude Tringle, and the lady's -part by his cousin and intimate friend, Miss Imogene Docimer. The -scene was a walk through a pine-forest on the southern slopes of -the Tyrolean Alps, and the occasion had been made a little more -exhilarating than usual by the fact that Imogene had been strongly -advised both by her brother, Mr. Mudbury Docimer, and by her -sister-in law, Mrs. Mudbury Docimer, not to take any more distant -rambles with her far-away cousin Frank Houston. In the teeth of that -advice this walk was taken, and the conversation in the pine-wood had -at the present moment arrived at the point above given. - -"I do not know that any two persons were ever further asunder in -an argument than you and I in this," said Frank, not in the least -disconcerted by the severe epithets which had been applied to him. -"I conceive that you are led away by a desire to deceive yourself, -whereas hypocrisy should only be used with the object of deceiving -others." - -"How do I deceive myself?" - -"In making believe that men are generally different from what they -are;--in trying to suppose that I ought to be, if I am not, a hero. -You shall not find a man whose main object is not that of securing -an income. The clergyman who preaches against gold licks the ground -beneath the minister's feet in order that he may become a bishop. The -barrister cares not with what case he may foul his hands so long as -he may become rich. The man in trade is so aware of his own daily -dishonesty that he makes two separate existences for himself, and -endeavours to atone for his rascality in the City by his performance -of all duties at the West End. I regard myself to be so infinitely -cleaner in my conscience than other men that I could not bring myself -to be a bishop, an attorney-general, or a great merchant. Of all the -ways open to me this seems to me to be the least sordid. I give her -the only two things which she desires,--myself and a position. She -will give me the only thing I desire, which is some money. When you -marry you'll make an equally fine bargain,--only your wares will be -your beauty." - -"You will not give her yourself;--not your heart." - -"Yes, I shall. I shall make the most of her, and shall do so by -becoming as fond of her as I can. Of course I like breeding. Of -course I like beauty. Of course I like that aroma of feminine charm -which can only be produced by a mixture of intellect, loveliness, -taste, and early association. I don't pretend to say that my future -would not be much sweeter before me with you as my wife,--if only -either of us had a sufficiency of income. I acknowledge that. But -then I acknowledge also that I prefer Miss Tringle, with L100,000, -to you with nothing; and I do not think that I ought to be called -unmanly, disgraceful, and a coward, because I have courage enough -to speak the truth openly to a friend whom I trust. My theory of -life shocks you, not because it is uncommon, but because it is not -commonly declared." - -They were silent for a while as they went on through the path, and -then Miss Docimer spoke to him in an altered voice. "I must ask you -not to speak to me again as one who by any possibility could have -been your wife." - -"Very well. You will not wish me to abandon the privilege of thinking -of past possibilities?" - -"I would,--if it were possible." - -"Quite impossible! One's thoughts, I imagine, are always supposed to -be one's own." - -"You know what I mean. A gentleman will always spare a woman if he -can do so; and there are cases, such as have been ours, in which it -is a most imperative duty to do so. You should not have followed us -when you had made up your mind about this young lady." - -"I took care to let you know, beforehand, that I intended it." - -"You should not have thrown the weight upon me. You should not even -have written to me." - -"I wonder what you would have said then,--how loudly you would have -abused me,--had I not written! Would you not have told me then that -I had not the courage to be open with you?" He paused for an answer, -but she made none. "But I do recognise the necessity of my becoming -subject to abuse in this state of affairs. I have been in no respect -false, nor in any way wanting in affection. When I suggested to you -that L600 a-year between us, with an increasing family, and lodgings -in Marylebone, would be uncomfortable, you shuddered at the prospect. -When I explained to you that you would have the worst of it because -my club would be open to me, you were almost angry with me because I -seemed to imply that there could be any other than one decision." - -"There could only be one decision,--unless you were man enough to -earn your bread." - -"But I wasn't. But I ain't. You might as well let that accident pass, -sans dire. Was there ever a moment in which you thought that I should -earn my bread?" - -"Never for a moment did I endow you with the power of doing anything -so manly." - -"Then why throw it in my teeth now? That is not fair. However, I do -own that I have to be abused. I don't see any way in which you and I -are to part without it. But you need not descend to Billingsgate." - -"I have not descended to Billingsgate, Mr. Houston." - -"Upper-world Billingsgate! Cowardice, as an accusation from a woman -to a man, is upper-world Billingsgate. But it doesn't matter. Of -course I know what it means. Do you think your brother wants me to go -away at once?" - -"At once," she said. - -"That would be disagreeable and absurd. You mean to sit to me for -that head?" - -"Certainly not." - -"I cannot in the least understand why not. What has a question of -art to do with marriage or giving in marriage? And why should Mrs. -Docimer be so angry with me, when she has known the truth all along?" - -"There are questions which it is of no avail to answer. I have come -out with you now because I thought it well that we should have a -final opportunity of understanding each other. You understand me at -any rate." - -"Perfectly," he said. "You have taken especial care on this occasion -to make yourself intelligible." - -"So I intended. And as you do understand me, and know how far I am -from approving your philosophy, you can hardly wish to remain with us -longer." Then they walked on together in absolute silence for above a -mile. They had come out of the wood, and were descending, by a steep -and narrow path, to the village in which stood the hotel at which the -party was staying. Another ten minutes would take them down to the -high road. The path here ran by the side of a rivulet, the course -of which was so steep that the waters made their way down in a -succession of little cataracts. From the other side of the path was -a fence, so close to it, that on this particular spot there was room -only for one to walk. Here Frank Houston stepped in front of his -companion, so as to stop her. "Imogene," he said, "if it is intended -that I am to start by the diligence for Innspruck this evening, you -had better bid me farewell at once." - -"I have bidden you farewell," she said. - -"Then you have done it in so bitter a mood that you had better try -your hand at it again. Heaven only knows in what manner you or I may -meet again." - -"What does it matter?" she asked. - -"I have always felt that the hearts of men are softer than the hearts -of women. A woman's hand is soft, but she can steel her heart when -she thinks it necessary, as no man can do. Does it occur to you at -this moment that there has been some true affection between you and -me in former days?" - -"I wish it did not." - -"It may be so that I wish it also; but there is the fact. No wishing -will enable me to get rid of it. No wishing will save me from the -memory of early dreams and sweet longings and vain triumphs. There is -the remembrance of bright glory made very sad to me by the meanness -of the existing truth. I do not say but that I would obliterate it if -I could; but it is not to be obliterated; the past will not be made -more pleasant to me by any pretence of present indignation. I should -have thought that it would have been the same with you." - -"There has been no glory," she said, "though I quite acknowledge the -meanness." - -"There has been at any rate some love." - -"Misplaced. You had better let me pass on. I have, as you say, -steeled myself. I will not condescend to any tenderness. In my -brother's presence and my sister's I will wish you good-bye and -express a hope that you may be successful in your enterprises. Here, -by the brook-side, out upon the mountain-path, where there is no one -to hear us but our two selves, I will bid you no farewell softer than -that already spoken. Go and do as you propose. You have my leave. -When it shall have been done there shall never be a word spoken by me -against it. But, when you ask me whether you are right, I will only -say that I think you to be wrong. It may be that you owe nothing to -me; but you owe something to her, and something also to yourself. -Now, Mr. Houston, I shall be glad to pass on." - -He shrugged his shoulders and then stepped out of the path, thinking -as he did so how ignorant he had been, after all that had passed, of -much of the character of Imogene Docimer. It could not be, he had -thought, but that she would melt into softness at last. "I will not -condescend to any tenderness," she had said, and it seemed that she -would be as good as her word. He then walked down before her in -silence, and in silence they reached the inn. - -"Mr. Houston," said Mrs. Docimer, before they sat down to dinner -together, "I thought it was understood that you and Imogene should -not go out alone together again." - -"I have taken my place to Innspruck by the diligence this evening," -he answered. - -"Perhaps it will be better so, though both Mudbury and I will be -sorry to lose your company." - -"Yes, Mrs. Docimer, I have taken my place. Your sister seemed to -think that there would be great danger if I waited till to-morrow -morning when I could have got a pleasant lift in a return carriage. I -hate travelling at night and I hate diligences. I was quite prepared -to post all the way, though it would have ruined me,--only for this -accursed diligence." - -"I am sorry you should be inconvenienced." - -"It does not signify. What a man without a wife may suffer in that -way never does signify. It's just fourteen hours. You wouldn't like -Docimer to come with me." - -"That's nonsense. You needn't go the whole way unless you like. You -could sleep at Brunecken." - -"Brunecken is only twelve miles, and it might be dangerous." - -"Of course you choose to turn everything into ridicule." - -"Better that than tears, Mrs. Docimer. What's the good of crying? I -can't make myself an elder son. I can't endow Imogene with a hundred -thousand pounds. She told me just now that I might earn my bread, but -she knows that I can't. It's very sad. But what can be got by being -melancholy?" - -"At any rate you had better be away from her." - -"I am going,--this evening. Shall I walk on, half a stage, at once, -without any dinner? I wish you had heard the kind of things she said -to me. You would not have thought that I had gone to walk with her -for my own pleasure." - -"Have you not deserved them?" - -"I think not;--but nevertheless I bore them. A woman, of course, can -say what she pleases. There's Docimer,--I hope he won't call me a -coward." - -Mr. Docimer came out on the terrace, on which the two were standing, -looking as sour as death. "He is going by the diligence to Innspruck -this afternoon," said Mrs. Docimer. - -"Why did he come? A man with a grain of feeling would have remained -away." - -"Now, Docimer," said Frank, "pray do not make yourself unpleasant. -Your sister has been abusing me all the morning like a pickpocket, -and your wife looks at me as though she would say just as much if she -dared. After all, what is it I have done that you think so wicked?" - -"What will everybody think at home," said Mrs. Docimer, "when they -know that you're with us again? What chance is she to have if you -follow her about in this way?" - -"I shall not follow her very long," said Frank. "My wings will soon -be cut, and then I shall never fly again." They were at this time -walking up and down the terrace together, and it seemed for awhile -that neither of them had another word to say in the matter of the -dispute between them. Then Houston went on again in his own defence. -"Of course it is all bad," he said. "Of course we have all been -fools. You knew it, and allowed it; and have no right to say a word -to me." - -"We thought that when your uncle died there would have been money," -said Docimer, with a subdued growl. - -"Exactly; and so did I. You do not mean to say that I deceived either -you or her?" - -"There should have been an end of it when that hope was over." - -"Of course there should. There should never have been a dream that -she or I could marry on six hundred a year. Had not all of us been -fools, we should have taken our hats off and bade each other farewell -for ever when the state of the old man's affairs was known. We were -fools; but we were fools together; and none of us have a right to -abuse the others. When I became acquainted with this young lady at -Rome, it had been settled among us that Imogene and I must seek our -fortunes apart." - -"Then why did you come after her?" again asked Mr. Docimer. - -At this moment Imogene herself joined them on the terrace. "Mary," -she said to her sister-in-law, "I hope you are not carrying on this -battle with Mr. Houston. I have said what there was to be said." - -"You should have held your tongue and said nothing," growled her -brother. - -"Be that as it may I have said it, and he quite understands what I -think about it. Let us eat our dinner in peace and quietness, and -then let him go on his travels. He has the world free before him, -which he no doubt will open like an oyster, though he does not carry -a sword." Soon after this they did dine, and contented themselves -with abusing the meat and the wine, and finding fault with Tyrolese -cookery, just as though they had no deeper cares near their hearts. -Precisely at six the heavy diligence stopped before the hotel door, -and Houston, who was then smoking with Docimer on the terrace, got -up to bid them adieu. Mrs. Docimer was kind and almost affectionate, -with a tear in her eye. "Well, old fellow," said Docimer, "take -care of yourself. Perhaps everything will turn up right some of -these days." "Good-bye, Mr. Houston," said Imogene, just giving him -her hand to touch in the lightest manner possible. "God bless you, -Imogene," said he. And there was a tear also in his eye. But there -was none in hers, as she stood looking at him while he prepared -himself for his departure; nor did she say another word to him as he -went. "And now," said she, when the three of them were left upon the -terrace, "I will ask a great favour of you both. I will beg you not -to let there be another word about Mr. Houston among us." After that -she rambled out by herself, and was not seen again by either of them -that evening. - -When she was alone she too shed her tears, though she felt impatient -and vexed with herself as they came into her eyes. It was not perhaps -only for her lost love that she wept. Had no one known that her love -had been given and then lost she might have borne it without weeping. -But now, in carrying on this vain affair of hers, in devoting herself -to a lover who had, with her own consent, passed away from her, she -had spent the sweet fresh years of her youth, and all those who knew -her would know that it had been so. He had told her that it would be -her fate to purchase for herself a husband with her beauty. It might -be so. At any rate she did not doubt her own beauty. But, if it were -to be so, then the romance and the charm of her life were gone. She -had quite agreed that six hundred a year, and lodgings in Marylebone, -would be quite unendurable; but what was there left for her that -would be endurable? He could be happy with the prospect of Gertrude -Tringle's money. She could not be happy, looking forward to that -unloved husband who was to be purchased by her beauty. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -AT MERLE PARK. NO. 1. - - -Sir Thomas took the real holiday of the year at Glenbogie,--where -he was too far removed from Lombard Street to be drawn daily into -the vortex of his millions. He would stay usually six weeks at -Glenbogie,--which were by no means the happiest weeks of the year. Of -all the grand things of the world which his energy and industry had -produced for him, he loved his millions the best. It was not because -they were his,--as indeed they were not. A considerable filing off -them,--what he regarded as his percentage,--annually became his own; -but it was not this that he loved. In describing a man's character it -is the author's duty to give the man his due. Sir Thomas liked his -own wealth well enough. Where is the rich man who does not?--or where -is the poor man who does not wish that he had it to like? But what he -loved were the millions with which Travers and Treason dealt. He was -Travers and Treason, though his name did not even appear in the firm, -and he dealt with the millions. He could affect the rate of money -throughout Europe, and emissaries from national treasuries would -listen to his words. He had been Governor and Deputy-Governor of the -Bank of England. All the City respected him, not so much because he -was rich, as that he was one who thoroughly understood millions. If -Russia required to borrow some infinite number of roubles, he knew -how to arrange it, and could tell to a rouble at what rate money -could be made by it, and at what rate money would certainly be lost. -He liked his millions, and was therefore never quite comfortable at -Glenbogie. But at Merle Park he was within easy reach of London. At -Merle Park he was not obliged to live, from week's end to week's end, -without a sight of Lombard Street. The family might be at Merle Park, -while he might come down on a Friday and remain till Tuesday morning. -That was the plan proposed for Merle Park. As a fact he would spend -four days in town, and only two down in the country. Therefore, -though he spent his so-named holiday at Glenbogie, Merle Park was the -residence which he loved. - -In this autumn he went up to London long before his family, and then -found them at Merle Park on the Saturday after their arrival there. -They had gone down on the previous Wednesday. On the Saturday, when -he entered the house, the first thing he saw was Mr. Traffick's hat -in the hall. This was Saturday, 23rd November, and there would be -three months before Parliament would meet! A curse was not muttered, -but just formed between his teeth, as he saw the hat. Sir Thomas, in -his angriest mood, never went so far as quite to mutter his curses. -Will one have to expiate the anathemas which are well kept within -the barrier of the teeth, or only those which have achieved some -amount of utterance? Sir Thomas went on, with a servant at his heels, -chucking about the doors rather violently, till he found Mr. Traffick -alone in the drawing-room. Mr. Traffick had had a glass of sherry and -bitters brought in for his refreshment, and Sir Thomas saw the glass -on the mantelpiece. He never took sherry and bitters himself. One -glass of wine, with his two o'clock mutton chop, sufficed him till -dinner. It was all very well to be a Member of Parliament, but, after -all, Members of Parliament never do anything. Men who work don't -take sherry and bitters! Men who work don't put their hats in other -people's halls without leave from the master of the house! "Where's -your mistress?" said Sir Thomas, to the man, without taking any -notice of his son-in-law. The ladies had only just come in from -driving, were very cold, and had gone up to dress. Sir Thomas went -out of the room, again banging the door, and again taking no notice -of Mr. Traffick. Mr. Traffick put his hand up to the mantelpiece, and -finished his sherry and bitters. - -"My dear," said Mr. Traffick to his wife, up in her bed-room, "your -father has come down in one of his tantrums." - -"I knew he would," said Augusta. - -"But it does not signify the least. Give him a kiss when you see him, -and don't seem to notice it. There is not a man in the world has a -higher regard for me than your father, but if any one were to see him -in one of his tantrums they would suppose he meant to be uncivil." - -"I hope he won't be downright unkind, Septimus," said his wife. - -"Never fear! The kindest-hearted man in the world is your father." - -"So he's here!" That was the first word of greeting which Sir Thomas -addressed to his wife in her bed-room. - -"Yes, Tom;--they're here." - -"When did they come?" - -"Well;--to tell the truth, we found them here." - -"The ----!" But Sir Thomas restrained the word on the right, or -inside, of the teeth. - -"They thought we were to be here a day sooner, and so they came on -the Wednesday morning. They were to come, you know." - -"I wish I knew when they were to go." - -"You don't want to turn your own daughter out of your own house?" - -"Why doesn't he get a house of his own for her? For her sake why -doesn't he do it? He has the spending of L6,000 a year of my money, -and yet I am to keep him! No;--I don't want to turn my daughter out -of my house; but it'll end in my turning him out." - -When a week had passed by Mr. Traffick had not been as yet turned -out. Sir Thomas, when he came back to Merle Park on the following -Friday, condescended to speak to his son-in-law, and to say something -to him as to the news of the day; but this he did in an evident -spirit of preconceived hostility. "Everything is down again," he -said. - -"Fluctuations are always common at this time of the year," said -Traffick; "but I observe that trade always becomes brisk a little -before Christmas." - -"To a man with a fixed income, like you, it doesn't much matter," -said Sir Thomas. - -"I was looking at it in a public light." - -"Exactly. A man who has an income, and never spends it, need not -trouble himself with private views as to the money market." Mr. -Traffick rubbed his hands, and asked whether the new buildings at the -back of the Lombard Street premises were nearly finished. - -Mr. Traffick's economy had a deleterious effect upon Gertrude, which -she, poor girl, did not deserve. Sir Thomas, deeply resolving in his -mind that he would, at some not very distant date, find means by -which he would rid himself of Mr. Traffick, declared to himself that -he would not, at any rate, burden himself with another son-in-law -of the same kind. Frank Houston was, to his thinking, of the same -kind, and therefore he hardened his heart against Frank Houston. Now -Frank Houston, could he have got his wife with L6,000 a year,--as Mr. -Traffick had done,--would certainly not have troubled the Tringle -mansions with too much of his presence. It would have been his object -to remove himself as far as possible from the Tringles, and to have -enjoyed his life luxuriously with the proceeds of his wife's fortune. -But his hopes in this respect were unjustly impeded by Mr. Traffick's -parsimony. Soon after leaving the hotel in the Tyrol at which we -lately saw him, Frank Houston wrote to his lady-love, declaring the -impatience of his ardour, and suggesting that it would be convenient -if everything could be settled before Christmas. In his letter he -declared to Gertrude how very uncomfortable it was to him to have to -discuss money matters with her father. It was so disagreeable that he -did not think that he could bring himself to do it again. But, if she -would only be urgent with her father, she would of course prevail. -Acting upon this Gertrude determined to be urgent with her father -on his second coming to Merle Park, when, as has been explained, -Sir Thomas was in a frame of mind very much opposed to impecunious -sons-in-law. Previous to attacking her father Gertrude had tried -her hand again upon her mother, but Lady Tringle had declined. "If -anything is to be done you must do it yourself," Lady Tringle had -said. - -"Papa," said Gertrude, having followed him into a little sitting-room -where he digested and arranged his telegrams when at Merle Park, "I -wish something could be settled about Mr. Houston." - -Sir Thomas at this moment was very angry. Mr. Traffick had not only -asked for the loan of a carriage to take him into Hastings, but had -expressed a wish that there might be a peculiar kind of claret served -at dinner with which he was conversant and to which he was much -attached. "Then," said he, "you may as well have it all settled at -once." - -"How, papa?" - -"You may understand for good and all that I will have nothing to do -with Mr. Houston." - -"Papa, that would be very cruel." - -"My dear, if you call me cruel I will not allow you to come and talk -to me at all. Cruel indeed! What is your idea of cruelty?" - -"Everybody knows that we are attached to each other." - -"Everybody knows nothing of the kind. I know nothing of the kind. And -you are only making a fool of yourself. Mr. Houston is a penniless -adventurer and is only attached to my money. He shall never see a -penny of it." - -"He is not an adventurer, papa. He is much less like an adventurer -than Mr. Traffick. He has an income of his own, only it is not much." - -"About as much as would pay his bill at the club for cigars and -champagne. You may make your mind at rest, for I will not give -Mr. Houston a shilling. Why should a man expect to live out of my -earnings who never did a day's work in his life?" - -Gertrude left the room despondently, as there was nothing more to be -done on the occasion. But it seemed to her as though she were being -used with the utmost cruelty. Augusta had been allowed to marry her -man without a shilling, and had been enriched with L120,000. Why -should she be treated worse than Augusta? She was very strongly -of opinion that Frank Houston was very much better than Septimus -Traffick. Mr. Traffick's aptitude for saving his money was already -known to the whole household. Frank would never wish to save. Frank -would spend her income for her like a gentleman. Frank would not hang -about Glenbogie or Merle Park till he should be turned out. Everybody -was fond of Frank. But she, Gertrude, had already learnt to despise -Mr. Traffick, Member of Parliament though he was. She had already -begun to think that having been chosen by Frank Houston, who was -decidedly a man of fashion, she had proved herself to be of higher -calibre than her sister Augusta. But her father's refusal to her had -been not only very rough but very decided. She would not abandon her -Frank. Such an idea never for a moment crossed her mind. But what -step should she next take? Thinking over it during the whole of the -day she did at last form a plan. But she greatly feared that the plan -would not recommend itself to Mr. Frank Houston. She was not timid, -but he might be so. In spite of her father's anger and roughness she -would not doubt his ultimate generosity; but Frank might doubt it. If -Frank could be induced to come and carry her off from Merle Park and -marry her in some manner approved for such occasions, she would stand -the risk of getting the money afterwards. But she was greatly afraid -that the risk would be too much for Frank. She did not, however, -see any other scheme before her. As to waiting patiently till her -father's obdurate heart should be softened by the greater obduracy -of her own love, there was a tedium and a prolonged dulness in such -a prospect which were anything but attractive to her. Had it been -possible she would have made a bargain with her father. "If you won't -give us L120,000 let us begin with L60,000." But even this she feared -would not altogether be agreeable to Frank. Let her think of it -how she would, that plan of being run away with seemed alone to be -feasible--and not altogether disagreeable. - -It was necessary that she should answer her lover's letter. No -embargo had as yet been put upon her correspondence, and therefore -she could send her reply without external difficulty. - -"Dear Frank," she said, - - - I quite agree with you about Christmas. It ought to be - settled. But I have very bad news to send to you. I have - been to papa as you told me, but he was very unkind. - Nothing could be worse. He said that you ought to earn - your bread, which is, of course, all humbug. He didn't - understand that there ought to be some gentlemen who never - earn their bread. I am sure, if you had been earning your - bread by going to Lombard Street every day, I shouldn't - have ever cared for you. - - He says that he will not give a single shilling. I think - he is angry because Augusta's husband will come and live - here always. That is disgusting, of course. But it isn't - my fault. It is either that, or else some money has gone - wrong;--or perhaps he had a very bad fit of indigestion. - He was, however, so savage, that I really do not know how - to go to him again. Mamma is quite afraid of him, and does - not dare say a word, because it was she who managed about - Mr. Traffick. - - What ought to be done? Of course, I don't like to think - that you should be kept waiting. I am not sure that I - quite like it myself. I will do anything you propose, and - am not afraid of running a little risk. If we could get - married without his knowing anything about it, I am sure - he would give the money afterwards,--because he is always - so good-natured in the long run, and so generous. He can - be very savage, but he would be sure to forgive. - - How would it be if I were to go away? I am of age, and - I believe that no one could stop me. If you could manage - that we should get married in that way, I would do my - best. I know people can get themselves married at Ostend. - I do not see what else is to be done. You can write - to me at present here, and nothing wrong will come of - it. But Augusta says that if papa were to begin to - suspect anything about my going away he would stop my - letters.--Dear Frank, I am yours always, and always most - lovingly, - - GERTRUDE. - - You needn't be a bit afraid but that I should be quite up - to going off if you could arrange it. - - -"I believe, papa," said Mrs. Traffick, on the afternoon of the day on -which this was written, "that Gertrude is thinking of doing something -wrong, and therefore I feel it to be my duty to bring you this -letter." Augusta had not been enabled to read the letter, but had -discussed with her sister the propriety of eloping. "I won't advise -it," she had said, "but, if you do, Mr. Houston should arrange to be -married at Ostend. I know that can be done." Some second thought had -perhaps told her that any such arrangement would be injurious to the -noble blood of the Traffick family, and she had therefore "felt it to -be her duty" to extract the letter from the family letter-box, and -to give it to her father. A daughter who could so excellently do her -duty would surely not be turned out before Parliament met. - -Sir Thomas took the letter and said not a word to his elder child. -When he was alone he doubted. He was half-minded to send the letter -on. What harm could the two fools do by writing to each other? While -he held the strings of the purse there could be no marriage. Then he -bethought himself of his paternal authority, of the right he had to -know all that his daughter did,--and he opened the letter. "There -ought to be gentlemen who don't earn their bread!" "Ought there?" -said he to himself. If so these gentlemen ought not to come to him -for bread. He was already supporting one such, and that was quite -enough. "Mamma is quite afraid of him, and doesn't dare say a word." -That he rather liked. "I am sure he would give the money afterwards." -"I am sure he would do no such thing," he said to himself, and he -reflected that in such a condition he should rather be delighted than -otherwise in watching the impecunious importunities of his baffled -son-in-law. The next sentence reconciled his girl to him almost -entirely. "He is always so good-natured in the long run, and so -generous!" For "good-natured" he did not care much, but he liked to -be thought generous. Then he calmly tore the letter in little bits, -and threw them into the waste-paper basket. - -He sat for ten minutes thinking what he had better do, finding -the task thus imposed upon him to be much more difficult than the -distribution of a loan. At last he determined that, if he did -nothing, things would probably settle themselves. Mr. Houston, -when he received no reply from his lady-love, would certainly be -quiescent, and Gertrude, without any assent from her lover, could -hardly arrange her journey to Ostend. Perhaps it might be well that -he should say a word of caution to his wife; but as to that he did -not at present quite make up his mind, as he was grievously disturbed -while he was considering the subject. - -"If you please, Sir Thomas," said the coachman, hurrying into the -room almost without the ceremony of knocking,--"if you please, -Phoebe mare has been brought home with both her knees cut down to -the bone." - -"What!" exclaimed Sir Thomas, who indulged himself in a taste for -horseflesh, and pretended to know one animal from another. - -"Yes, indeed, Sir Thomas, down to the bone," said the coachman, who -entertained all that animosity against Mr. Traffick which domestics -feel for habitual guests who omit the ceremony of tipping. "Mr. -Traffick brought her down on Windover Hill, Sir Thomas, and she'll -never be worth a feed of oats again. I didn't think a man was -born who could throw that mare off her feet, Sir Thomas." Now Mr. -Traffick, when he had borrowed the phaeton and pair of horses that -morning to go into Hastings, had dispensed with the services of a -coachman, and had insisted on driving himself. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -AT MERLE PARK. NO. 2. - - -Has any irascible reader,--any reader who thoroughly enjoys the -pleasure of being in a rage,--encountered suddenly some grievance -which, heavy as it may be, has been more than compensated by the -privilege it has afforded of blowing-up the offender? Such was the -feeling of Sir Thomas as he quickly followed his coachman out of -the room. He had been very proud of his Phoebe mare, who could trot -with him from the station to the house at the rate of twelve miles -an hour. But in his present frame of mind he had liked the mare -less than he disliked his son-in-law. Mr. Traffick had done him -this injury, and he now had Mr. Traffick on the hip. There are some -injuries for which a host cannot abuse his guest. If your best -Venetian decanter be broken at table you are bound to look as though -you liked it. But if a horse be damaged a similar amount of courtesy -is hardly required. The well-nurtured gentleman, even in that case, -will only look unhappy and say not a word. Sir Thomas was hardly to -be called a well nurtured gentleman; and then it must be remembered -that the offender was his son-in-law. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, -hurrying into the yard. "What is this?" - -The mare was standing out on the pavement with three men around her, -of whom one was holding her head, another was down on his knees -washing her wounds, and the third was describing the fatal nature of -the wounds which she had received. Traffick was standing at a little -distance, listening in silence to the implied rebukes of the groom. -"Good heavens, what is this?" repeated Sir Thomas, as he joined the -conclave. - -"There are a lot of loose stones on that hill," said Traffick, "and -she tripped on one and came down, all in a lump, before you could -look at her. I'm awfully sorry, but it might have happened to any -one." - -Sir Thomas knew how to fix his darts better than by throwing them -direct at his enemy. "She has utterly destroyed herself," said he, -addressing himself to the head-groom, who was busily employed with -the sponge in his hand. - -"I'm afraid she has, Sir Thomas. The joint-oil will be sure to run on -both knees; the gashes is so mortal deep." - -"I've driven that mare hundreds of times down that hill," said Sir -Thomas, "and I never knew her to trip before." - -"Never, Sir Thomas," said the groom. - -"She'd have come down with you to-day," said Mr. Traffick, defending -himself. - -"It was my own fault, Bunsum. That's all that can be said about it." -Bunsum the groom, kneeling as he was, expressed, by his grimaces, his -complete agreement with this last opinion of his master. "Of course I -ought to have known that he couldn't drive," said Sir Thomas. - -"A horse may fall down with anybody," said Mr. Traffick. - -"You'd better take her and shoot her," said Sir Thomas, still -addressing the groom. "She was the best thing we had in the stable, -but now she is done for." With that he turned away from the yard -without having as yet addressed a word to his son-in-law. - -This was so intolerable that even Mr. Traffick could not bear it in -silence. "I have told you that I am very sorry," said he, following -Sir Thomas closely, "and I don't know what a man can do more." - -"Nothing,--unless it be not to borrow a horse again." - -"You may be sure I will never do that." - -"I'm not sure of it at all. If you wanted another to-morrow you'd ask -for him if you thought you could get him." - -"I call that very uncivil, Sir Thomas,--and very unkind." - -"Bother!" said Sir Thomas. "It is no good in being kind to a fellow -like you. Did you ever hear what the cabman did who had a sovereign -given to him for driving a mile. He asked the fool who gave it him to -make it a guinea. I am the fool, and, by George, you are the cabman!" -With this Sir Thomas turned into the house by a small door, leaving -his son-in-law to wander round to the front by himself. - -"Your father has insulted me horribly," he said to his wife, whom he -found up in her bed-room. - -"What is the matter now, Septimus?" - -"That little mare of his, which I have no doubt has come down half a -score of times before, fell with me and cut her knees." - -"That's Phoebe," said Augusta. "She was his favourite." - -"It's a kind of thing that might happen to anyone, and no gentleman -thinks of mentioning it. He said such things to me that upon my word -I don't think I can stop in the house any longer." - -"Oh, yes, you will," said the wife. - -"Of course, it is a difference coming from one's father-in-law. It's -almost the same as from one's father." - -"He didn't mean it, Septimus." - -"I suppose not. If he had, I really couldn't have borne it. He does -become very rough sometimes, but I know that at bottom he has a -thorough respect for me. It is only that induces me to bear it." Then -it was settled between husband and wife that they should remain in -their present quarters, and that not a word further should be said -at any rate by them about the Phoebe mare. Nor did Sir Thomas say -another word about the mare, but he added a note to those already -written in the tablets of his memory as to his son-in-law, and -the note declared that no hint, let it be ever so broad, would be -effectual with Mr. Traffick. - -The next day was a Sunday, and then another trouble awaited Sir -Thomas. At this time it was not customary with Tom to come often to -Merle Park. He had his own lodgings in London and his own club, and -did not care much for the rural charms of Merle Park. But on this -occasion he had condescended to appear, and on the Sunday afternoon -informed his father that there was a matter which he desired to -discuss with him. "Father," said he, "I am getting confoundedly sick -of all this." - -"Confounded," said Sir Thomas, "is a stupid foolish word, and it -means nothing." - -"There is a sort of comfort in it, Sir," said Tom; "but if it's -objectionable I'll drop it." - -"It is objectionable." - -"I'll drop it, Sir. But nevertheless I am very sick of it." - -"What are you sick of, Tom?" - -"All this affair with my cousin." - -"Then, if you take my advice, you'll drop that too." - -"I couldn't do that, father. A word is all very well. A man can drop -a word; but a girl is a different sort of thing. One can't drop a -girl, even if one tries." - -"Have you tried, Tom?" - -"Yes, I have. I've done my best to try. I put it out of my mind for -a fortnight and wouldn't think of her. I had a bottle of champagne -every day at dinner and then went to the theatre. But it was all of -no use. I have set my heart on it and I can't give her up. I'll tell -you what I'd like to do. I'd like to give her a diamond necklace." - -"It wouldn't be the slightest use," said Sir Thomas, shaking his -head. - -"Why not? It's what other men do. I mean it to be something -handsome;--about three hundred pounds." - -"That's a large sum of money for a necklace." - -"Some of them cost a deal more than that." - -"And you'd only throw away your money." - -"If she took it, she'd take me too. If she didn't,--why I should -still have the diamonds. I mean to try any way." - -"Then it's of no use your coming to me." - -"I thought you'd let me have the money. It's no good running into -debt for them. And then if you'd add something of your own,--a -locket, or something of that kind,--I think it would have an effect. -I have seen a necklace at Ricolay's, and if I could pay ready money -for it I could have 20 per cent. off it. The price named is three -hundred guineas. That would make it L254 5_s_. L250 would buy it if -the cheque was offered." - -There was a spirit about the son which was not displeasing to the -father. That idea that the gift, if accepted, would be efficacious, -or if not that it would be rejected,--so that Tom would not lose his -hopes and his diamonds together,--seemed to be sound. Sir Thomas, -therefore, promised the money, with the distinct understanding that -if the gift were not accepted by Ayala it should be consigned to -his own hands. But as for any present from himself, he felt that -this would not be the time for it. He had called upon his niece and -solicited her himself, and she had been deaf to his words. After that -he could not condescend to send her gifts. "Should she become my -promised daughter-in-law then I would send her presents," said Sir -Thomas. - -The poor man certainly received less pleasure from his wealth than -was credited to him by those who knew his circumstances. Yet he -endeavoured to be good to those around him, and especially good to -his children. There had been present to him ever since the beginning -of his successes,--ever since his marriage,--a fixed resolution that -he would not be a curmudgeon with his money, that he would endeavour -to make those happy who depended on him, and that he would be liberal -in such settlements for his children as might be conducive to their -happiness and fortunes in life. In this way he had been very generous -to Mr. Traffick. The man was a Member of Parliament, the son of a -peer, and laborious. Why should he expect more? Money was wanting, -but he could supply the money. So he had supplied it, and had been -content to think that a good man should be propped up in the world -by his means. What that had come to the reader knows. He thoroughly -detested his son-in-law, and would have given much to have had his -money back again,--so that Mr. Traffick should have had no share in -it. - -Then there was his second daughter! What should be done with -Gertrude? The money should be forthcoming for her too if the fitting -man could be found. But he would have nothing further to do with a -penniless lover, let his position in the world of fashion, or even in -the world of politics, be what it might. The man should either have -wealth of his own, or should be satisfied to work for it. Houston had -been unfortunate in the moment of his approaches. Sir Thomas had been -driven by his angry feelings to use hard, sharp words, and now was -forced to act up to his words. He declared roughly that Mr. Houston -should not have a shilling of his money,--as he had certainly -been justified for doing; and his daughter, who had always been -indulged in every kind of luxury, had at once concocted a plot for -running away from her home! As he thought of the plot it seemed -to be wonderful to him that she should be willing to incur such a -danger,--to be ready without a penny to marry a penniless man,--till -he confessed to himself that, were she to do so, she would certainly -have the money sooner or later. He was capable of passion, capable -of flying out and saying a very severe thing to Septimus Traffick or -another when his temper was hot; but he was incapable of sustained -wrath. He was already aware that if Mr. Traffick chose to stay he -would stay;--that if Mr. Houston were brave enough to be persistent -he might have both the money and the girl. As he thought of it all -he was angry with himself, wishing that he were less generous, less -soft, less forgiving. - -And now here was Tom,--whom at the present moment he liked the best -of all his children, who of the three was the least inclined to run -counter to him,--ready to break his heart, because he could not get -a little chit of a girl of whom he would probably be tired in twelve -months after he possessed her! Remembering what Tom had been, he was -at a loss to understand how such a lad should be so thoroughly in -love. At the present moment, had Ayala been purchaseable, he would -have been willing to buy her at a great price, because he would fain -have pleased Tom had it been possible. But Ayala, who had not a penny -in the world,--who never would have a penny unless he should give it -her,--would not be purchased, and would have nothing to do with Tom! -The world was running counter to him, so that he had no pleasure in -his home, no pleasure in his money, no pleasure in his children. The -little back-parlour in Lombard Street was sweeter to him than Merle -Park, with all its charms. His daughter Gertrude wanted to run away -from him, while by no inducement could he get Mr. Traffick to leave -the house. - -While he was in this humour he met his niece Lucy roaming about the -garden. He knew the whole story of Lucy's love, and had been induced -by his wife to acknowledge that her marriage with the sculptor was -not to be sanctioned. He had merely expressed his scorn when the -unfortunate circumstances of Hamel's birth had been explained to him -again and again. He had ridiculed the horror felt by his wife at the -equally ill-born brothers and sisters in Rome. He had merely shaken -his head when he was told that Hamel's father never went inside of -any place of worship. But when it was explained to him that the -young man had, so to say, no income at all, then he was forced to -acknowledge that the young man ought not to be allowed to marry his -niece. - -To Lucy herself he had as yet said nothing on the subject since he -had asked the lover in to lunch at Glenbogie. He heard bad accounts -of her. He had been told by his wife, on different occasions,--not -in the mere way of conversation, but with a premeditated energy of -fault-finding,--that Lucy was a disobedient girl. She was worse than -Ayala. She persisted in saying that she would marry the penniless -artist as soon as he should profess himself to be ready. It had been -different, she had tried to explain to her aunt, before she had been -engaged to him. Now she considered herself to be altogether at his -disposal. This had been her plea, but her plea had been altogether -unacceptable to Aunt Emmeline. "She can do as she pleases, of -course," Sir Thomas had said. That might be all very well; but Aunt -Emmeline was strongly of opinion that an adopted daughter of Queen's -Gate, of Glenbogie, and Merle Park, ought not to be allowed to do as -she pleased with herself. A girl ought not to be allowed to have the -luxuries of palatial residences, and the luxuries of free liberty of -choice at the same time. More than once it had occurred to Sir Thomas -that he would put an end to all these miseries by a mere scratch of -his pen. It need not be L120,000, or L100,000, as with a daughter. -A few modest thousands would do it. And then this man Hamel, though -the circumstances of his birth had been unfortunate, was not an idler -like Frank Houston. As far as Sir Thomas could learn, the man did -work, and was willing to work. The present small income earned would -gradually become more. He had a kindly feeling towards Lucy, although -he had been inclined to own that her marriage with Hamel was out of -the question. "My dear," he said to her, "why are you walking about -alone?" She did not like to say that she was walking alone because -she had no one to walk with her,--no such companion as Isadore would -be if Isadore were allowed to come to Merle Park; so she simply -smiled, and went on by her uncle's side. "Do you like this place as -well as Glenbogie?" he asked. - -"Oh; yes." - -"Perhaps you will be glad to get back to London again?" - -"Oh; no." - -"Which do you like best, then?" - -"They are all so nice, if--" - -"If what, Lucy?" - -"Caelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt," Lucy might have -said, had she known the passage. As it was she put the same feeling -into simpler words, "I should like one as well as the other, Uncle -Tom, if things went comfortably." - -"There's a great deal in that," he said. "I suppose the meaning is, -that you do not get on well with your aunt?" - -"I am afraid she is angry with me, Uncle Tom." - -"Why do you make her angry, Lucy? When she tells you what is your -duty, why do you not endeavour to do it?" - -"I cannot do what she tells me," said Lucy; "and, as I cannot, I -think I ought not to be here." - -"Have you anywhere else to go to?" To this she made no reply, but -walked on in silence. "When you say you ought not to be here, what -idea have you formed in your own mind as to the future?" - -"That I shall marry Mr. Hamel, some day." - -"Do you think it would be well to marry any man without an income -to live upon? Would it be a comfort to him seeing that he had just -enough to maintain himself, and no more?" These were terrible -questions to her,--questions which she could not answer, but yet as -to which her mind entertained an easy answer. A little help from him, -who was willing to indulge her with so many luxuries while she was -under his roof, would enable her to be an assistance rather than a -burden to her lover. But of this she could not utter a word. "Love -is all very well," continued Sir Thomas, in his gruffest voice; -"but love should be regulated by good sense. It is a crime when -two beggars think of marrying each other,--two beggars who are not -prepared to live as beggars do." - -"He is not a beggar," said Lucy, indignantly. "He has begged nothing; -nor have I." - -"Pshaw!" said Sir Thomas; "I was laying down a general rule. I did -not mean to call anybody a beggar. You shouldn't take me up like -that." - -"I beg your pardon, Uncle Tom," she said piteously. - -"Very well; very well; that will do." But still he went on walking -with her, and she felt she could not leave him till he gave her some -signal that she was to go. They continued in this way till they -had come nearly round the large garden; when he stopped, as he -was walking, and addressed her again. "I suppose you write to him -sometimes." - -"Yes," said Lucy, boldly. - -"Write to him at once, and tell him to come and see me in Lombard -Street on Tuesday, at two o'clock. Give me the letter, and I will -take care it is sent to him directly I get to town. Now you had -better go in, for it is getting very cold." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. - - -Tom went up to London intent upon his diamonds. To tell the truth -he had already made the purchase subject to some question of ready -money. He now paid for it after considerable chaffering as to the odd -pounds, which he succeeded in bringing to a successful termination. -Then he carried the necklace away with him, revolving in his mind the -different means of presentation. He thought that a letter might be -best if only he was master of the language in which such a letter -should properly be written. But he entirely doubted his own powers of -composition. He was so modest in this respect that he would not even -make an attempt. He knew himself well enough to be aware that he was -in many respects ignorant. He would have endeavoured to take the -bracelet personally to Ayala had he not been conscious that he could -not recommend his present with such romantic phrases and touches of -poetry as would be gratifying to her fine sense. Were he to find -himself in her presence with the necklace he must depend on himself -for his words; but a letter might be sent in his own handwriting, the -poetry and romance of which might be supplied by another. - -Now it had happened that Tom had formed a marvellous friendship in -Rome with Colonel Stubbs. They had been hunting together in the -Campagna, and Tom had been enabled to accommodate the Colonel with -the loan of a horse when his own had been injured. They had since met -in London, and Stubbs had declared to more than one of his friends -that Tom, in spite of his rings and his jewelry, was a very good -fellow at bottom. Tom had been greatly flattered by the intimacy, -and had lately been gratified by an invitation to Aldershot in order -that the military glories of the camp might be shown to him. He -had accepted the invitation, and a day in the present week had been -fixed. Then it occurred to him suddenly that he knew no one so -fitted to write such a letter as that demanded as his friend Colonel -Jonathan Stubbs. He had an idea that the Colonel, in spite of his red -hair and in spite of a certain aptitude for drollery which pervaded -him, had a romantic side to his character; and he felt confident -that, as to the use of language, the Colonel was very great indeed. -He therefore, when he went to Aldershot, carefully put the bracelet -in his breast-pocket and determined to reveal his secret and to ask -for aid. - -The day of his arrival was devoted to the ordinary pursuits of -Aldershot and the evening to festivities, which were prolonged too -late into the night to enable him to carry out his purpose before -he went to bed. He arranged to leave on the next morning by a train -between ten and eleven, and was told that three or four men would -come in to breakfast at half-past nine. His project then seemed to be -all but hopeless. But at last with great courage he made an effort. -"Colonel," said he, just as they were going to bed, "I wonder if you -could give me half-an-hour before breakfast. It is a matter of great -importance." Tom, as he said this, assumed a most solemn face. - -"An hour if you like, my dear boy. I am generally up soon after six, -and am always out on horseback before breakfast as soon as the light -serves." - -"Then if you'll have me called at half-past seven I shall be ever so -much obliged to you." - -The next morning at eight the two were closeted together, and Tom -immediately extracted the parcel from his pocket and opened the -diamonds to view. "Upon my word that is a pretty little trinket," -said the Colonel, taking the necklace in his hand. - -"Three hundred guineas!" said Tom, opening his eyes very wide. - -"I daresay." - -"That is, it would have been three hundred guineas unless I had come -down with the ready. I made the fellow give me twenty per cent. off. -You should always remember this when you are buying jewelry." - -"And what is to be done with this pretty thing? I suppose it is -intended for some fair lady's neck." - -"Oh, of course." - -"And why has it been brought down to Aldershot? There are plenty of -fellows about this place who will get their hands into your pocket if -they know that you have such a trinket as that about you." - -"I will tell you why I brought it," said Tom, very gravely. "It is, -as you say, for a young lady. I intend to make that young lady my -wife. Of course this is a secret, you know." - -"It shall be sacred as the Pope's toe," said Stubbs. - -"Don't joke about it, Colonel, if you please. It's life and death to -me." - -"I'll keep your secret and will not joke. Now what can I do for you." - -"I must send this as a present with a letter. I must first tell you -that she has,--well, refused me." - -"That never means much the first time, old boy." - -"She has refused me half-a-dozen times, but I mean to go on with it. -If she refuses me two dozen times I'll try her a third dozen." - -"Then you are quite in earnest?" - -"I am. It's a kind of thing I know that men laugh about, but I don't -mind telling you that I am downright in love with her. The governor -approves of it." - -"She has got money, probably?" - -"Not a shilling;--not as much as would buy a pair of gloves. But I -don't love her a bit the less for that. As to income, the governor -will stump up like a brick. Now I want you to write the letter." - -"It's a kind of thing a third person can't do," said the Colonel, -when he had considered the request for a moment. - -"Why not? Yes, you can." - -"Do it yourself, and say just the simplest words as they come up. -They are sure to go further with any girl than what another man may -write. It is impossible that another man should be natural on such a -task as that." - -"Natural! I don't know about natural," said Tom, who was anxious now -to explain the character of the lady in question. "I don't know that -a letter that was particularly natural would please her. A touch of -poetry and romance would go further than anything natural." - -"Who is the lady?" asked the Colonel, who certainly was by this time -entitled to be so far inquisitive. - -"She is my cousin,--Ayala Dormer." - -"Who?" - -"Ayala Dormer;--my cousin. She was at Rome, but I do not think you -ever saw her there." - -"I have seen her since," said the Colonel. - -"Have you? I didn't know." - -"She was with my aunt, the Marchesa Baldoni." - -"Dear me! So she was. I never put the two things together. Don't you -admire her?" - -"Certainly I do. My dear fellow, I can't write this letter for you." -Then he put down the pen which he had taken up as though he had -intended to comply with his friend's request. "You may take it as -settled that I cannot write it." - -"No?" - -"Impossible. One man should never write such a letter for another -man. You had better give the thing in person,--that is, if you mean -to go on with the matter." - -"I shall certainly go on with it," said Tom, stoutly. - -"After a certain time, you know, reiterated offers do, you -know,--do,--do,--partake of the nature of persecution." - -"Reiterated refusals are the sort of persecution I don't like." - -"It seems to me that Ayala,--Miss Dormer. I mean,--should be -protected by a sort of feeling,--feeling of--of what I may perhaps -call her dependent position. She is peculiarly,--peculiarly -situated." - -"If she married me she would be much better situated. I could give -her everything she wants." - -"It isn't an affair of money, Mr. Tringle." - -Tom felt, from the use of the word Mister, that he was in some way -giving offence; but felt also that there was no true cause for -offence. "When a man offers everything," he said, "and asks for -nothing, I don't think he should be said to persecute." - -"After a time it becomes persecution. I am sure Ayala would feel it -so." - -"My cousin can't suppose that I am ill-using her," said Tom, who -disliked the "Ayala" quite as much as he did the "Mister." - -"Miss Dormer, I meant. I can have nothing further to say about it. I -can't write the letter, and I should not imagine that Ayala,--Miss -Dormer,--would be moved in the least by any present that could -possibly be made to her. I must go out now, if you don't mind, for -half-an-hour; but I shall be back in time for breakfast." - -Then Tom was left alone with the necklace lying on the table before -him. He knew that something was wrong with the Colonel, but could not -in the least guess what it might be. He was quite aware that early -in the interview the Colonel had encouraged him to persevere with -the lady, and had then, suddenly, not only advised him to desist, -but had told him in so many words that he was bound to desist out of -consideration for the lady. And the Colonel had spoken of his cousin -in a manner that was distasteful to him. He could not analyse his -feelings. He did not exactly know why he was displeased, but he was -displeased. The Colonel, when asked for his assistance, was, of -course, bound to talk about the lady,--would be compelled, by the -nature of the confidence, to mention the lady's name;--would even -have been called on to write her Christian name. But this he should -have done with a delicacy;--almost with a blush. Instead of that -Ayala's name had been common on his tongue. Tom felt himself to be -offended, but hardly knew why. And then, why had he been called -Mister Tringle? The breakfast, which was eaten shortly afterwards -in the company of three or four other men, was not eaten in -comfort;--and then Tom hurried back to London and to Lombard Street. - -After this failure Tom felt it to be impossible to go to another -friend for assistance. There had been annoyance in describing his -love to Colonel Stubbs, and pain in the treatment he had received. -Even had there been another friend to whom he could have confided the -task, he could not have brought himself to encounter the repetition -of such treatment. He was as firmly fixed as ever in his conviction -that he could not write the letter himself. And, as he thought of the -words with which he should accompany a personal presentation of the -necklace, he reflected that in all probability he might not be able -to force his way into Ayala's presence. Then a happy thought struck -him. Mrs. Dosett was altogether on his side. Everybody was on his -side except Ayala herself, and that pigheaded Colonel. Would it not -be an excellent thing to entrust the necklace to the hands of his -Aunt Dosett, in order that she might give it over to Ayala with all -the eloquence in her power. Satisfied with this project he at once -wrote a note to Mrs. Dosett. - - - MY DEAR AUNT, - - I want to see you on _most important business_. If I shall - not be troubling you, I will call upon you to-morrow at - ten o'clock, before I go to my place of business. - - Yours affectionately, - - T. TRINGLE, Junior. - - -On the following morning he apparelled himself with all his rings. -He was a good-hearted, well-intentioned young man, with excellent -qualities; but he must have been slow of intellect when he had not -as yet learnt the deleterious effect of all those rings. On this -occasion he put on his rings, his chains, and his bright waistcoat, -and made himself a thing disgusting to be looked at by any -well-trained female. As far as his aunt was concerned he would have -been altogether indifferent as to his appearance, but there was -present to his mind some small hope that he might be allowed to see -Ayala, as the immediate result of the necklace. Should he see Ayala, -then how unfortunate it would be that he should present himself -before the eyes of his mistress without those adornments which he did -not doubt would be grateful to her. He had heard from Ayala's own -lips that all things ought to be pretty. Therefore he endeavoured -to make himself pretty. Of course he failed,--as do all men who -endeavour to make themselves pretty,--but it was out of the question -that he should understand the cause of his failure. - -"Aunt Dosett, I want you to do me a very great favour," he began, -with a solemn voice. - -"Are you going to a party, Tom," she said. - -"A party! No,--who gives a party in London at this time of the day? -Oh, you mean because I have just got a few things on. When I call -anywhere I always do. I have got another lady to see, a lady of rank, -and so I just made a change." But this was a fib. - -"What can I do for you, Tom?" - -"I want you to look at that." Then he brought out the necklace, and, -taking it out of the case, displayed the gems tastefully upon the -table. - -"I do believe they are diamonds," said Mrs. Dosett. - -"Yes; they are diamonds. I am not the sort of fellow to get anything -sham. What do you think that little thing cost, Aunt Dosett?" - -"I haven't an idea. Sixty pounds, perhaps!" - -"Sixty pounds! Do you go into a jeweller's shop and see what you -could do among diamonds with sixty pounds!" - -"I never do go into jewellers' shops, Tom." - -"Nor I, very often. It's a sort of place where a fellow can drop a -lot of money. But I did go into one after this. It don't look much, -does it?" - -"It is very pretty." - -"I think it is pretty. Well, Aunt Dosett, the price for that little -trifle was three--hundred--guineas!" As he said this he looked into -his aunt's face for increased admiration. - -"You gave three hundred guineas for it!" - -"I went with ready money in my hand, when I tempted the man with a -cheque to let me have it for two hundred and fifty pounds. In buying -jewelry you should always do that." - -"I never buy jewelry," said Mrs. Dosett, crossly. - -"If you should, I mean. Now, I'll tell you what I want you to do. -This is for Ayala." - -"For Ayala!" - -"Yes, indeed. I am not the fellow to stick at a trifle when I want to -carry my purpose. I bought this the other day and gave ready money -for it,--two hundred and fifty pounds,--on purpose to give it to -Ayala. In naming the value,--of course you'll do that when you give -it her,--you might as well say three hundred guineas. That was the -price on the ticket. I saw it myself,--so there won't be any untruth -you know." - -"Am I to give it her?" - -"That's just what I want. When I talk to her she flares up, and, as -likely as not, she'd fling the necklace at my head." - -"She wouldn't do that, I hope." - -"It would depend upon how the thing went. When I do talk to her it -always seems that nothing I say can be right. Now, if you will give -it her you can put in all manner of pretty things." - -"This itself will be the prettiest thing," said Mrs. Dosett. - -"That's just what I was thinking. Everybody agrees that diamonds will -go further with a girl than anything else. When I told the governor -he quite jumped at the idea." - -"Sir Thomas knows you are giving it?" - -"Oh, dear, yes. I had to get the rhino from him. I don't go about -with two hundred and fifty pounds always in my own pocket." - -"If he had sent the money to Ayala how much better it would have -been," said poor Mrs. Dosett. - -"I don't think that at all. Who ever heard of making a present to a -young lady in money. Ayala is romantic, and that would have been the -most unromantic thing out. That would not have done me the least good -in the world. It would simply have gone to buy boots and petticoats -and such like. A girl would never be brought to think of her lover -merely by putting on a pair of boots. When she fastens such a -necklace as this round her throat he ought to have a chance. Don't -you think so, Aunt Dosett?" - -"Tom, shall I tell you something?" said the aunt. - -"What is it, Aunt Dosett?" - -"I don't believe that you have a chance." - -"Do you mean that?" he asked, sorrowfully. - -"I do." - -"You think that the necklace will do no good?" - -"Not the least. Of course I will offer it to her if you wish it, -because her uncle and I quite approve of you as a husband for Ayala. -But I am bound to tell you the truth. I do not think the necklace -will do you any good." Then he sat silent for a time, meditating upon -his condition. It might be imprudent;--it might be a wrong done to -his father to jeopardise the necklace. How could it be if Ayala were -to take the necklace and not to take him? "Am I to give it?" she -asked. - -"Yes," said he, bravely, but with a sigh; "give it her all the same." - -"From you or from Sir Thomas?" - -"Oh, from me;--from me. If she were told it came from the governor -she'd keep it whether or no. I am sure I hope she will keep it," he -said, trying to remove the bad impression which his former words -might perhaps have left. - -"You may be sure she will not keep it," said Mrs. Dosett, "unless she -should intend to accept your hand. Of that I can hold out no hope to -you. There is a matter, Tom, which I think I should tell you as you -are so straightforward in your offer. Another gentleman has asked her -to marry him." - -"She has accepted him!" exclaimed Tom. - -"No, she has not accepted him. She has refused him." - -"Then I'm just where I was," said Tom. - -"She has refused him, but I think that she is in a sort of way -attached to him; and though he too has been refused I imagine that -his chance is better than yours." - -"And who the d---- is he?" said Tom, jumping up from his seat in -great excitement. - -"Tom!" exclaimed Mrs. Dosett. - -"I beg your pardon; but you see this is very important. Who is the -fellow?" - -"He is one Colonel Jonathan Stubbs." - -"Who?" - -"Colonel Jonathan Stubbs." - -"Impossible! It can't be Colonel Stubbs. I know Colonel Stubbs." - -"I can assure you it is true, Tom. I have had a letter from a -lady,--a relative of Colonel Stubbs,--telling me the whole story." - -"Colonel Stubbs!" he said. "That passes anything I ever heard. She -has refused him?" - -"Yes, she has refused him." - -"And has not accepted him since?" - -"She certainly has not accepted him yet." - -"You may give her the bracelet all the same," said Tom, hurrying out -of the room. That Colonel Stubbs should have made an offer to Ayala, -and yet have accepted his, Tom Tringle's, confidence! - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -TOM'S DESPAIR. - - -The reader will understand that the fate of the necklace was very -soon decided. Ayala declared that it was very beautiful. She had, -indeed, a pretty taste for diamonds, and would have been proud enough -to call this necklace her own; but, as she declared to her aunt, she -would not accept Tom though he were made of diamonds from head to -foot. Accept Tom, when she could not even bring herself to think of -becoming the wife of Jonathan Stubbs! If Colonel Stubbs could not be -received by her imagination as an Angel of Light, how immeasurably -distant from anything angelic must be Tom Tringle! "Of course it must -go back," she said, when the question had to be decided as to the -future fate of the necklace. As a consequence poor Mr. Dosett was -compelled to make a special journey into the City, and to deposit a -well-sealed parcel in the hands of Tom Tringle himself. "Your cousin -sends her kind regards," he said, "but cannot bring herself to accept -your magnificent present." - -Tom had been very much put about since his visit to the Crescent. Had -his aunt merely told him that his present would be inefficacious, -he would have taken that assurance as being simply her opinion, and -would have still entertained some hopes in the diamonds. But these -tidings as to another lover crushed him altogether. And such a lover! -The very man whom he had asked to write his letter for him! Why -had not Colonel Stubbs told him the truth when thus his own secret -had become revealed by an accident? He understood it all now,--the -"Ayala," and the "Mister," and the reason why the Colonel could not -write the letter. Then he became very angry with the Colonel, whom he -bitterly accused of falsehood and treason. What right had the Colonel -to meddle with his cousin at all? And how false he had been to say -nothing of what he himself had done when his rival had told him -everything! In this way he made up his mind that it was his duty -to hate Colonel Stubbs, and if possible to inflict some personal -punishment upon him. He was reckless of himself now, and, if he could -only get one good blow at the Colonel's head with a thick stick, -would be indifferent as to what the law might do with him afterwards. -Or perhaps he might be able to provoke Colonel Stubbs to fight with -him. He had an idea that duels at present were not in fashion. But -nevertheless, in such a case as this, a man ought to fight. He could -at any rate have the gratification of calling the Colonel a coward if -he should refuse to fight. - -He was the more wretched because his spirit within him was cowed -by the idea of the Colonel. He did acknowledge to himself that his -chance could be but bad while such a rival as Colonel Stubbs stood in -his way. He tried to argue with himself that it was not so. As far as -he knew, Colonel Stubbs was and would remain a very much less rich -man than himself. He doubted very much whether Colonel Stubbs could -keep a carriage in London for his wife, while it had been already -arranged that he was to be allowed to do so should he succeed in -marrying Ayala. To be a partner in the house of Travers and Treason -was a much greater thing than to be a Colonel. But, though he assured -himself of all this again and again, still he was cowed. There was -something about the Colonel which did more than redeem his red -hair and ugly mouth. And of this something poor Tom was sensible. -Nevertheless, if occasion should arise he thought that he could -"punch the Colonel's head";--not without evil consequence to -himself;--but still that he could "punch the Colonel's head," not -minding the consequences. - -Such had been his condition of mind when he left the Crescent, and it -was not improved by the receipt of the parcel. He hardly said a word -when his uncle put it into his hands, merely muttering something and -consigning the diamonds to his desk. He did not tell himself that -Ayala must now be abandoned. It would have been better for him if he -could have done so. But all real, springing, hopeful hope departed -from his bosom. This came from the Colonel, rather than from the -rejected necklace. - -"Did you send that jewelry?" his father asked him some days -afterwards. - -"Yes; I sent it." - -"And what has now become of it?" - -"It is in my desk there." - -"Did she send it back again?" - -"It came back. My Uncle Dosett brought it. I do not want to say -anything more about it, if you please." - -"I am sorry for that, Tom;--very sorry. As you had set your heart -upon it I wish it could have been as you would have it. But the -necklace should not be left there." Tom shook his head in despair. - -"You had better let me have the necklace. It is not that I should -grudge it to you, Tom, if it could do you any good." - -"You shall have it, Sir." - -"It will be better so. That was the understanding." Then the necklace -was transferred to some receptacle belonging to Sir Thomas himself, -the lock of which might probably be more secure than that of Tom's -desk, and there it remained in its case, still folded in the various -papers in which Mrs. Dosett had encased it. - -Then Tom found it necessary to adopt some other mode of life for his -own consolation and support. He had told his father on one occasion -that he had devoted himself for a fortnight to champagne and the -theatres. But this had been taken as a joke. He had been fairly -punctual at his place of business and had shown no symptoms of fast -living. But now it occurred to him that fast living would be the only -thing for him. He had been quite willing to apply himself to marriage -and a steady life; but fortune had not favoured him. If he drank -too much now, and lay in bed, and became idle, it was not his fault. -There came into his head an idea that Ayala and Colonel Stubbs -between them must look to that. Could he meet Ayala he would explain -to her how his character as a moral man had been altogether destroyed -by her conduct;--and should he meet Colonel Stubbs he would explain -something to him also. - -A new club had been established in London lately called the -Mountaineers, which had secured for itself handsome lodgings in -Piccadilly, and considered itself to be, among clubs, rather a -comfortable institution than otherwise. It did not as yet affect -much fashion, having hitherto secured among its members only two -lords,--and they were lords by courtesy. But it was a pleasant, -jovial place, in which the delights of young men were not impeded -by the austerity of their elders. Its name would be excused only on -the plea that all other names available for a club had already been -appropriated in the metropolis. There was certainly nothing in the -club peculiarly applicable to mountains. But then there are other -clubs in London with names which might be open to similar criticism. -It was the case that many young men engaged in the City had been -enrolled among its members, and it was from this cause, no doubt, -that Tom Tringle was regarded as being a leading light among the -Mountaineers. It was here that the champagne had been drunk to which -Tom had alluded when talking of his love to his father. Now, in his -despair, it seemed good to him to pass a considerable portion of his -time among the Mountaineers. - -"You'll dine here, Faddle?" he said one evening to a special friend -of his, a gentleman also from the City, with whom he had been dining -a good deal during the last week. - -"I suppose I shall," said Faddle, "but ain't we coming it a little -strong? They want to know at the Gardens what the deuce it is I'm -about." The Gardens was a new row of houses, latterly christened -Badminton Gardens, in which resided the father and mother of Faddle. - -"I've given up all that kind of thing," said Tom. - -"Your people are not in London." - -"It will make no difference when they do come up. I call an evening -in the bosom of one's family about the slowest thing there is. The -bosom must do without me for the future." - -"Won't your governor cut up rough?" - -"He must cut up as he pleases. But I rather fancy he knows all about -it. I shan't spend half as much money this way as if I had a house -and wife and family,--and what we may call a bosom of one's own." -Then they had dinner and went to the theatre, and played billiards, -and had supper, and spent the night in a manner very delightful, no -doubt, to themselves, but of which their elder friends could hardly -have approved. - -There was a good deal of this following upon the episode of the -necklace, and it must be told with regret that our young hero fell -into certain exploits which were by no means creditable to him. More -than one good-humoured policeman had helped him home to his lodgings; -but alas, on Christmas Eve, he fell into the hands of some guardian -of the peace who was not quite sufficiently good-natured, and Tom -passed the night and the greater part of the following morning, -recumbent, he in one cell, and his friend Faddle in the next, with an -intimation that they would certainly be taken before a magistrate on -the day after Christmas Day. - -Oh, Ayala! Ayala! It must be acknowledged that you were in a measure -responsible;--and not only for the lamentable condition of your -lover, but also of that of his friend. For, in his softer moments, -Tom had told every thing to Faddle, and Faddle had declared that -he would be true to the death to a friend suffering such unmerited -misfortune. Perhaps the fidelity of Faddle may have owed something -to the fact that Tom's pecuniary allowances were more generous than -those accorded to himself. To Ayala must be attributed the occurrence -of these misfortunes. But Tom in his more fiery moments,--those -moments which would come between the subsidence of actual sobriety -and the commencement of intoxication,--attributed all his misfortunes -to the Colonel. "Faddle," he would say in these moments, "of course -I know that I'm a ruined man. Of course I'm aware that all this is -only a prelude to some ignominious end. I have not sunk to this -kind of thing without feeling it." "You'll be right enough some day, -old fellow," Faddle would reply. "I shall live to be godfather to -the first boy." "Never, Faddle!" Tom replied. "All those hopes have -vanished. You'll never live to see any child of mine. And I know well -where to look for my enemy. Stubbs indeed! I'll Stubbs him. If I can -only live to be revenged on that traitor then I shall die contented. -Though he shot me through the heart, I should die contented." - -This had happened a little before that unfortunate Christmas Eve. Up -to this time Sir Thomas, though he had known well that his son had -not been living as he should do, had been mild in his remonstrances, -and had said nothing at Merle Park to frighten Lady Tringle. But the -affair of Christmas Eve came to his ears with all its horrors. A -policeman whom Tom had struck with his fist in the pit of the stomach -had not been civil enough to accept this mark of familiarity with -good humour. He had been much inconvenienced by the blow, and had -insisted upon giving testimony to this effect before the magistrate. -There had been half-an-hour, he said, in which he had hung dubious -between this world and the next, so great had been the violence of -the blow, and so deadly its direction! The magistrate was one of -those just men who find a pleasure and a duty in protecting the -police of the metropolis. It was no case, he declared, for a fine. -What would be a fine to such a one as Thomas Tringle, junior! And -Tom,--Tom Tringle, the only son of Sir Thomas Tringle, the senior -partner in the great house of Travers and Treason,--was ignominiously -locked up for a week. Faddle, who had not struck the blow, was -allowed to depart with a fine and a warning. Oh, Ayala, Ayala, this -was thy doing! - -When the sentence was known Sir Thomas used all his influence to -extricate his unfortunate son, but in vain. Tom went through his -penalty, and, having no help from champagne, doubtless had a bad time -of it. Ayala, Stubbs, the policeman, and the magistrate, seemed to -have conspired to destroy him. But the week at last dragged itself -out, and then Tom found himself confronted with his father in the -back-parlour of the house in Queen's Gate. "Tom," he said, "this is -very bad!" - -"It is bad, Sir," said Tom. - -"You have disgraced me, and your mother, and yourself. You have -disgraced Travers and Treason!" Poor Tom shook his head. "It will be -necessary, I fear, that you should leave the house altogether." Tom -stood silent without a word. "A young man who has been locked up in -prison for a week for maltreating a policeman can hardly expect to be -entrusted with such concerns as those of Travers and Treason. I and -your poor mother cannot get rid of you and the disgrace which you -have entailed upon us. Travers and Treason can easily get rid of -you." Tom knew very well that his father was, in fact, Travers and -Treason, but he did not yet feel that an opportunity had come in -which he could wisely speak a word. "What have you got to say for -yourself, Sir?" demanded Sir Thomas. - -"Of course, I'm very sorry," muttered Tom. - -"Sorry, Tom! A young man holding your position in Travers and Treason -ought not to have to be sorry for having been locked up in prison for -a week for maltreating a policeman! What do you think must be done, -yourself?" - -"The man had been hauling me about in the street." - -"You were drunk, no doubt." - -"I had been drinking. I am not going to tell a lie about it. But he -needn't have done as he did. Faddle knows that, and can tell you." - -"What can have driven you to associate with such a young man as -Faddle? That is the worst part of it. Do you know what Faddle and -Company are,--stock jobbers, who ten years ago hadn't a thousand -pounds in the way of capital among them! They've been connected with -a dozen companies, none of which are floating now, and have made -money out of them all! Do you think that Travers and Treason will -accept a young man as a partner who associates with such people as -that?" - -"I have seen old Faddle's name and yours on the same prospectus -together, Sir." - -"What has that to do with it? You never saw him inside our counter. -What a name to appear along with yours in such an affair as this! If -it hadn't been for that, you might have got over it. Young men will -be young men. Faddle! I think you will have to go abroad for a time, -till it has been forgotten." - -"I should like to stay, just at present, Sir," said Tom. - -"What good can you do?" - -"All the same, I should like to stay, Sir." - -"I was thinking that, if you were to take a tour through the United -States, go across to San Francisco, then up to Japan, and from thence -through some of the Chinese cities down to Calcutta and Bombay, -you might come back by the Euphrates Valley to Constantinople, see -something of Bulgaria and those countries, and so home by Vienna and -Paris. The Euphrates Valley Railway will be finished by that time, -perhaps, and Bulgaria will be as settled as Hertfordshire. You'd see -something of the world, and I could let it be understood that you -were travelling on behalf of Travers and Treason. By the time that -you were back, people in the City would have forgotten the policeman, -and if you could manage to write home three or four letters about our -trade with Japan and China, they would be willing to forget Faddle." - -"But, Sir--" - -"Shouldn't you like a tour of that kind?" - -"Very much indeed, Sir;--only--" - -"Only what, Tom?" - -"Ayala!" said Tom, hardly able to suppress a sob as he uttered the -fatal name. - -"Tom, don't be a fool. You can't make a young woman have you if she -doesn't choose. I have done all that I could for you, because I saw -that you'd set your heart upon it. I went to her myself, and then I -gave two hundred and fifty pounds for that bauble. I am told I shall -have to lose a third of the sum in getting rid of it." - -"Ricolay told me that he'd take it back at two hundred and twenty," -said Tom, whose mind, prostrate as it was, was still alive to -consideration of profit and loss. - -"Never mind that for the present," said Sir Thomas. "Don't you -remember the old song?--'If she will, she will, you may depend on't. -And if she won't she won't; and there's an end on't.' You ought to be -a man and pluck up your spirits. Are you going to allow a little girl -to knock you about in that way?" Tom only shook his head, and looked -as if he was very ill. In truth, the champagne, and the imprisonment, -and Ayala together, had altogether altered his appearance. "We've -done what we could about it, and now it is time to give it over. Let -me hear you say that you will give it over." Tom stood speechless -before his father. "Speak the word, and the thing will be done," -continued Sir Thomas, endeavouring to encourage the young man. - -"I can't," said Tom, sighing. - -"Nonsense!" - -"I have tried, and I can't." - -"Tom, do you mean to say that you are going to lose everything -because a chit of a girl like that turns up her nose at you?" - -"It's no use my going while things are like this," said Tom. "If I -were to get to New York, I should come back by the next ship. As for -letters about business, I couldn't settle my mind to anything of the -kind." - -"Then you're not the man I took you to be," said the father. - -"I could be man enough," said Tom, clenching his fist, "if I could -get hold of Colonel Stubbs." - -"Colonel who?" - -"Stubbs! Jonathan Stubbs! I know what I'm talking about. I'm not -going to America, nor China, nor anything else, till I've polished -him off. It's all very well your abusing me, but you don't know what -it is I have suffered. As for being called a man I don't care about -it. What I should like best would be to get Ayala on one side and -Stubbs on the other, and then all three to go off the Duke of York's -Column together. It's no good talking about Travers and Treason. I -don't care for Travers and Treason as I am now. If you'll get Ayala -to say that she'll have me, I'll go to the shop every morning at -eight and stay till nine; and as for the Mountaineers it may all go -to the d---- for me." Then he rushed out of the room, banging the -door after him. - -Sir Thomas, when he was thus left, stood for awhile with his hands -in his trousers' pockets, contemplating the condition of his son. It -was wonderful to him that a boy of his should be afflicted in this -manner. When he had been struck by the juvenile beauties of Emmeline -Dosett he had at once asked the young lady to share his fortunes with -him, and the young lady had speedily acceded to his request. Then he -had been married, and that was all he had ever known of the troubles -of love. He could not but think, looking back at it as he did now -from a distance, that had Emmeline been hard-hearted he would have -endured the repulse and have passed on speedily to some other -charmer. But Tom had been wounded after a fashion which seemed -to him to have been very uncommon. It might be possible that he -should recover in time, but while undergoing recovery he would be -ruined;--so great were the young man's sufferings! Now Sir Thomas, -though he had spoken to Tom with all the severity which he had been -able to assume, though he had abused Faddle, and had vindicated the -injured dignity of Travers and Treason with all his eloquence; though -he had told Tom it was unmanly to give way to his love, yet, of -living creatures, Tom was at this moment the dearest to his heart. He -had never for an instant entertained the idea of expelling Tom from -Travers and Treason because of the policeman, or because of Faddle. -What should he do for the poor boy now? Was there any argument, any -means of persuasion, by which he could induce that foolish little -girl to accept all the good things which he was ready to do for her? -Could he try yet once again himself, with any chance of success? - -Thinking of all this, he stood there for an hour alone with his hands -in his trousers' pockets. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -ISADORE HAMEL IN LOMBARD STREET. - - -In following the results of Tom's presentation of the necklace we -have got beyond the period which our story is presumed to have -reached. Tom was in durance during the Christmas week, but we must go -back to the promise which had been made by her uncle, Sir Thomas, to -Lucy about six weeks before that time. The promise had extended only -to an undertaking on the part of Sir Thomas to see Isadore Hamel if -he would call at the house in Lombard Street at a certain hour on a -certain day. Lucy was overwhelmed with gratitude when the promise was -made. A few moments previously she had been indignant because her -uncle had appeared to speak of her and her lover as two beggars,--but -Sir Thomas had explained and in some sort apologised, and then had -come the promise which to Lucy seemed to contain an assurance of -effectual aid. Sir Thomas would not have asked to see the lover had -he intended to be hostile to the lover. Something would be done to -solve the difficulty which had seemed to Lucy to be so grave. She -would not any longer be made to think that she should give up either -her lover or her home under her uncle's roof. This had been terribly -distressing to her because she had been well aware that on leaving -her uncle's house she could be taken in only by her lover, to whom an -immediate marriage would be ruinous. And yet she could not undertake -to give up her lover. Therefore her uncle's promise had made her very -happy, and she forgave the ungenerous allusion to the two beggars. - -The letter was written to Isadore in high spirits. "I do not know -what Uncle Tom intends, but he means to be kind. Of course you must -go to him, and if I were you I would tell him everything about -everything. He is not strict and hard like Aunt Emmeline. She means -to be good too, but she is sometimes so very hard. I am happier -now because I think something will be done to relieve you from the -terrible weight which I am to you. I sometimes wish that you had -never come to me in Kensington Gardens, because I have become such a -burden to you." - -There was much more in which Lucy no doubt went on to declare that, -burden as she was, she intended to be persistent. Hamel, when he -received this letter, was resolved to keep the appointment made for -him, but his hopes were not very high. He had been angry with Lady -Tringle,--in the first place, because of her treatment of himself at -Glenbogie, and then much more strongly, because she had been cruel -to Lucy. Nor did he conceive himself to be under any strong debt -of gratitude to Sir Thomas, though he had been invited to lunch. -He was aware that the Tringles had despised him, and he repaid -the compliment with all his heart by despising the Tringles. They -were to him samples of the sort of people which he thought to be of -all the most despicable. They were not only vulgar and rich, but -purse-proud and conceited as well. To his thinking there was nothing -of which such people were entitled to be proud. Of course they -make money,--money out of money, an employment which he regarded -as vile,--creating nothing either useful or beautiful. To create -something useful was, to his thinking, very good. To create something -beautiful was almost divine. To manipulate millions till they should -breed other millions was the meanest occupation for a life's energy. -It was thus, I fear, that Mr. Hamel looked at the business carried on -in Lombard Street, being as yet very young in the world and seeing -many things with distorted eyes. - -He was aware that some plan would be proposed to him which might -probably accelerate his marriage, but was aware also that he would be -very unwilling to take advice from Sir Thomas. Sir Thomas, no doubt, -would be coarse and rough, and might perhaps offer him pecuniary -assistance in a manner which would make it impossible for him to -accept it. He had told himself a score of times that, poor as he was, -he did not want any of the Tringle money. His father's arbitrary -conduct towards him had caused him great misery. He had been brought -up in luxury, and had felt it hard enough to be deprived of his -father's means because he would not abandon the mode of life that -was congenial to him. But having been thus, as it were, cast off -by his father, he had resolved that it behoved him to depend only -on himself. In the matter of his love he was specially prone to be -indignant and independent. No one had a right to dictate to him, -and he would follow the dictation of none. To Lucy alone did he -acknowledge any debt, and to her he owed everything. But even for -her sake he could not condescend to accept Sir Thomas's money, and -with his money his advice. Lucy had begged him in her letter to tell -everything to her uncle. He would tell Sir Thomas everything as to -his income, his prospects, and his intentions, because Sir Thomas as -Lucy's uncle would be entitled to such information. But he thought it -very improbable that he should accept any counsel from Sir Thomas. - -Such being the condition of Hamel's mind it was to be feared that but -little good would come from his visit to Lombard Street. Lucy had -simply thought that her uncle, out of his enormous stores, would -provide an adequate income. Hamel thought that Sir Thomas, out of his -enormous impudence, would desire to dictate everything. Sir Thomas -was, in truth, anxious to be good-natured, and to do a kindness to -his niece; but was not willing to give his money without being sure -that he was putting it into good hands. - -"Oh, you're Hamel," said a young man to him, speaking to him across -the counter in the Lombard Street office. This was Tom, who, as the -reader will remember, had not yet got into his trouble on account of -the policeman. - -Tom and Hamel had never met but once before, for a few moments in the -Coliseum at Rome, and the artist, not remembering him, did not know -by whom he was accosted in this familiar manner. "That is my name, -Sir," said Hamel. "Here is my card. Perhaps you will do me the -kindness to take it to Sir Thomas Tringle." - -"All right, old fellow; I know all about it. He has got Puxley with -him from the Bank of England just at this moment. Come through into -this room. He'll soon have polished off old Puxley." Tom was no more -to Hamel than any other clerk, and he felt himself to be aggrieved; -but he followed Tom into the room as he was told, and then prepared -to wait in patience for the convenience of the great man. "So you and -Lucy are going to make a match of it," said Tom. - -This was terrible to Hamel. Could it be possible that all the clerks -in Lombard Street talked of his Lucy in this way, because she was the -niece of their senior partner? Were all the clerks, as a matter of -course, instructed in the most private affairs of the Tringle family? -"I am here in obedience to directions from Sir Thomas," said Hamel, -ignoring altogether the impudent allusion which the young man had -made. - -"Of course you are. Perhaps you don't know who I am?" - -"Not in the least," said Hamel. - -"I am Thomas Tringle, junior," said Tom, with a little accession of -dignity. - -"I beg your pardon; I did not know," said Hamel. - -"You and I ought to be thick," rejoined Tom, "because I'm going in -for Ayala. Perhaps you've heard that before?" - -Hamel had heard it and was well aware that Tom was to Ayala an -intolerable burden, like the old man of the sea. He had heard of Tom -as poor Ayala's pet aversion,--as a lover not to be shaken off though -he had been refused a score of times. Ayala was to the sculptor only -second in sacredness to Lucy. And now he was told by Tom himself that -he was--"going in for Ayala." The expression was so distressing to -his feelings that he shuddered when he heard it. Was it possible that -any one should say of him that he was "going in" for Lucy? At that -moment Sir Thomas opened the door, and grasping Hamel by the hand led -him away into his own sanctum. - -"And now, Mr. Hamel," said Sir Thomas, in his cheeriest voice, "how -are you?" Hamel declared that he was very well, and expressed a hope -that Sir Thomas was the same. "I am not so young as I was, Mr. Hamel. -My years are heavier and so is my work. That's the worst of it. When -one is young and strong one very often hasn't enough to do. I daresay -you find it so sometimes." - -"In our profession," said Hamel, "we go on working, though very often -we do not sell what we do." - -"That's bad," said Sir Thomas. - -"It is the case always with an artist before he has made a name for -himself. It is the case with many up to the last day of a life of -labour. An artist has to look for that, Sir Thomas." - -"Dear me! That seems very sad. You are a sculptor, I believe?" - -"Yes, Sir Thomas." - -"And the things you make must take a deal of room and be very heavy." -At this Mr. Hamel only smiled. "Don't you think if you were to call -an auction you'd get something for them?" At this suggestion the -sculptor frowned but condescended to make no reply. Sir Thomas went -on with his suggestion. "If you and half-a-dozen other beginners made -a sort of gallery among you, people would buy them as they do those -things in the Marylebone Road and stick them up somewhere about their -grounds. It would be better than keeping them and getting nothing." -Hamel had in his studio at home an allegorical figure of Italia -United, and another of a Prostrate Roman Catholic Church, which -in his mind's eye he saw for a moment stuck here or there about -the gardens of some such place as Glenbogie! Into them had been -infused all the poetry of his nature and all the conviction of his -intelligence. He had never dreamed of selling them. He had never -dared to think that any lover of Art would encourage him to put into -marble those conceptions of his genius which now adorned his studio, -standing there in plaster of Paris. But to him they were so valuable, -they contained so much of his thoughts, so many of his aspirations, -that even had the marble counterparts been ordered and paid for -nothing would have induced him to part with the originals. Now he was -advised to sell them by auction in order that he might rival those -grotesque tradesmen whose business it is to populate the gardens of -wealthy but tasteless Britons! It was thus that the idea represented -itself to him. He simply smiled; but Sir Thomas did not fail to -appreciate the smile. - -"And now about this young lady?" said Sir Thomas, not altogether in -so good a humour as he had been when he began his suggestion. "It's a -bad look out for her when, as you say, you cannot sell your work when -you've done it." - -"I think you do not quite understand the matter, Sir Thomas." - -"Perhaps not. It certainly does seem unintelligible that a man should -lumber himself up with a lot of things which he cannot sell. A -tradesman would know that he must get into the bankruptcy court if -he were to go on like that. And what is sauce for the goose will -be sauce for the gander also." Mr. Hamel again smiled but held his -tongue. "If you can't sell your wares how can you keep a wife?" - -"My wares, as you call them, are of two kinds. One, though no doubt -made for sale, is hardly saleable. The other is done to order. Such -income as I make comes from the latter." - -"Heads," suggested Sir Thomas. - -"Busts they are generally called." - -"Well, busts. I call them heads. They are heads. A bust, I take it, -is--well, never mind." Sir Thomas found a difficulty in defining his -idea of a bust. "A man wants to have something more or less like some -one to put up in a church and then he pays you." - -"Or perhaps in his library. But he can put it where he likes when he -has bought it." - -"Just so. But there ain't many of those come in your way, if I -understand right." - -"Not as many as I would wish." - -"What can you net at the end of the year? That's the question." - -Lucy had recommended him to tell Sir Thomas everything; and he had -come there determined to tell at any rate everything referring to -money. He had not the slightest desire to keep the amount of his -income from Sir Thomas. But the questions were put to him in so -distasteful a way that he could not bring himself to be confidential. -"It varies with various circumstances, but it is very small." - -"Very small? Five hundred a year?" This was ill-natured, because Sir -Thomas knew that Mr. Hamel did not earn five hundred a year. But he -was becoming acerbated by the young man's manner. - -"Oh dear, no," said Hamel. - -"Four hundred?" - -"Nor four hundred,--nor three. I have never netted three hundred in -one year after paying the incidental expenses." - -"That seems to me to be uncommonly little for a young man who is -thinking of marrying. Don't you think you had better give it up?" - -"I certainly think nothing of the kind." - -"Does your father do anything for you?" - -"Nothing at all." - -"He also makes heads?" - -"Heads,--and other things." - -"And sells them when he has made them." - -"Yes, Sir Thomas; he sells them. He had a hard time once, but now he -is run after. He refuses more orders than he can accept." - -"And he won't do anything for you." - -"Nothing. He has quarreled with me." - -"That is very bad. Well now, Mr. Hamel, would you mind telling me -what your ideas are?" Sir Thomas, when he asked the question, still -intended to give assistance, was still minded that the young people -should by his assistance be enabled to marry. But he was strongly of -opinion that it was his duty, as a rich and protecting uncle, to say -something about imprudence, and to magnify difficulties. It certainly -would be wrong for an uncle, merely because he was rich, to give -away his money to dependent relatives without any reference to those -hard principles which a possessor of money always feels it to be his -business to inculcate. And up to this point Hamel had done nothing -to ingratiate himself. Sir Thomas was beginning to think that the -sculptor was an impudent prig, and to declare to himself that, should -the marriage ever take place, the young couple would not be made -welcome at Glenbogie or Merle Park. But still he intended to go on -with his purpose, for Lucy's sake. Therefore he asked the sculptor as -to his ideas generally. - -"My idea is that I shall marry Miss Dormer, and support her on the -earnings of my profession. My idea is that I shall do so before long, -in comfort. My idea also is, that she will be the last to complain -of any discomfort which may arise from my straitened circumstances -at present. My idea is that I am preparing for myself a happy -and independent life. My idea also is,--and I assure you that of -all my ideas this is the one to which I cling with the fondest -assurance,--that I will do my very best to make her life happy when -she comes to grace my home." - -There was a manliness in this which would have touched Sir Thomas -had he been in a better humour, but, as it was, he had been so much -irritated by the young man's manner, that he could not bring himself -to be just. "Am I to understand that you intend to marry on something -under three hundred a year?" - -Hamel paused a moment before he made his reply. "How am I to answer -such a question," he said, at last, "seeing that Miss Dormer is in -your hands, and that you are unlikely to be influenced by anything -that I may say?" - -"I shall be very much influenced," said Sir Thomas. - -"Were her father still alive, I think we should have put our heads -together, and between us decided on what might have been best for -Lucy's happiness." - -"Do you think that I'm indifferent to her happiness?" demanded Sir -Thomas. - -"I should have suggested to him," continued Hamel, not noticing the -last question, "that she should remain in her own home till I could -make one for her worthy of her acceptance. And then we should have -arranged among us what would have been best for her happiness. I -cannot do this with you. If you tell her to-morrow that she must give -up either your protection or her engagement with me, then she must -come to me, and make the best of all the little that I can do for -her." - -"Who says that I'm going to turn her out?" said Sir Thomas, rising -angrily from his chair. - -"I do not think that any one has said this of you." - -"Then why do you throw it in my teeth?" - -"Because your wife has threatened it." - -Then Sir Thomas boiled over in his anger. "No one has threatened it. -It is untrue. You are guilty both of impertinence and untruth in -saying so." Here Hamel rose from his chair, and took up his hat. -"Stop, young man, and hear what I have to say to you. I have done -nothing but good to my niece." - -"Nevertheless, it is true, Sir Thomas, that she has been told by your -wife that she must either abandon me or the protection of your roof. -I find no fault with Lady Tringle for saying so. It may have been the -natural expression of a judicious opinion. But when you ask after my -intentions in reference to your niece I am bound to tell you that I -propose to subject her to the undoubted inconveniences of my poor -home, simply because I find her to be threatened with the loss of -another." - -"She has not been threatened, Sir." - -"You had better ask your wife, Sir Thomas. And, if you find that what -I have said is true, I think you will own that I have been obliged to -explain myself as I have done. As you have told me to my face that -I have been guilty of untruth, I shall now leave you." With this he -walked out of the room, and the words which Sir Thomas threw after -him had no effect in recalling him. - -It must be acknowledged that Hamel had been very foolish in referring -to Aunt Emmeline's threat. Who does not know that words are -constantly used which are intended to have no real effect? Who does -not know that an angry woman will often talk after this fashion? -But it was certainly the fact that Aunt Emmeline had more than once -declared to Lucy that she could not be allowed to remain one of -that family unless she would give up her lover. Lucy, in her loyal -endeavours to explain to her lover her own position, had told him of -the threat, and he, from that moment, had held himself prepared to -find a home for his future wife should that threat be carried into -execution. Sir Thomas was well aware that such words had been spoken, -but he knew his wife, and knew how little such words signified. His -wife, without his consent, would not have the power to turn a dog -from Merle Park. The threat had simply been an argument intended to -dissuade Lucy from her choice; and now it had been thrown in his -teeth just when he had intended to make provision for this girl, who -was not, in truth, related to him, in order that he might ratify her -choice! He was very angry with the young prig who had thus rushed out -of his presence. He was angry, too, with his wife, who had brought -him into his difficulty by her foolish threat. But he was angry, -also, with himself, knowing that he had been wrong to accuse the man -of a falsehood. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -"I NEVER THREATENED TO TURN YOU OUT." - - -Then there were written the following letters, which were sent and -received before Sir Thomas went to Merle Park, and therefore, also, -before he again saw Lucy. - - - DEAREST, DEAREST LOVE, - - I have been, as desired, to Lombard Street, but I fear - that my embassy has not led to any good. I know myself - to be about as bad an ambassador as any one can send. An - ambassador should be soft and gentle,--willing to make - the best of everything, and never prone to take offence, - nor should he be addicted specially to independence. I - am ungentle, and apt to be suspicious,--especially if - anything be said derogatory to my art. I am proud of being - an artist, but I am often ashamed of myself because I - exhibit my pride. I may say the same of my spirit of - independence. I am determined to be independent if I - live,--but I find my independence sometimes kicking up its - heels, till I hate it myself. - - From this you will perceive that I have not had a success - in Lombard Street. I was quite willing to answer your - uncle any questions he could ask about money. Indeed, - I had no secret from him on any subject. But when he - subjected me to cross-examination, forcing me into a - bathos of poverty, as he thought, I broke down. "Not five - hundred a-year!" "Not four!!" "Not three!!!" "Oh, heavens! - and you propose to take a wife!" You will understand how I - writhed and wriggled under the scorn. - - And then there came something worse than this,--or rather, - if I remember rightly, the worst thing came first. You - were over in my studio, and will remember, perhaps, - some of my own abortive treasures, those melancholy but - soul-inspiring creations of which I have thought so much, - and others have thought so little? That no one else should - value them is natural, but to me it seems unnatural, - almost cruel, that any one should tell me to my face that - they were valueless. Your uncle, of course, had never seen - them, but he knew that sculptors are generally burdened - with these "wares," as he called them; and he suggested - that I should sell them by auction for what they might - fetch,--in order that the corners which they occupy might - be vacant. He thought that, perhaps, they might do for - country gentlemen to stick about among their shrubs. - You, knowing my foolish soreness on the subject, will - understand how well I must have been prepared by this to - endure your uncle's cross-examination. - - Then he asked me as to my ideas,--not art ideas, but ideas - as to bread and cheese for the future. I told him as - exactly as I could. I explained to him that if you were - left in possession of a comfortable home, such as would - have been that of your father, I should think it best for - your sake to delay our marriage till I should be prepared - to do something better for you than I can at present; - but that I hold myself ready to give you all that I have - to give at a moment's notice, should you be required to - leave his house. And, Lucy, speaking in your name, I said - something further, and declared my belief that you, for - my sake, would bear the inconveniences of so poor a home - without complaining. - - Then there arose anger both on his side and on mine; and I - must say, insult on his. He told me that I had no business - to suggest that you would be expelled from his house. I - replied that the threat had come, if not from him, then - from Lady Tringle. Upon this he accused me of positive - falsehood, asserting that your aunt had said nothing of - the kind. I then referred him to Lady Tringle herself, but - refused to stay any longer in the room with him, because - he had insulted me. - - So you will see that I did less than nothing by my - embassy. I told myself that it would be so as I descended - into the underground cavern at the Gloucester Road - Station. You are not to suppose that I blame him more, or, - indeed, so much as I do myself. It was not to be expected - that he should behave as a gentleman of fine feeling. But, - perhaps, it ought to have been expected that I should - behave as a man of common sense. I ought to have taken - his advice about the auction, apparently, in good part. - I ought not to have writhed when he scorned my poor - earnings. When he asked as to my ideas, I should not have - alluded to your aunt's threat as to turning you out. I - should have been placid and humble; and then his want of - generous feeling would have mattered nothing. But spilt - milk and broken eggs are past saving. Whatever good things - may have come from your uncle's generosity had I brushed - his hair for him aright, are now clean gone, seeing that I - scrubbed him altogether the wrong way. - - For myself, I do not know that I should regret it very - much. I have an idea that no money should be sweet to a - man except that which he earns. And I have enough belief - in myself to be confident that sooner or later I shall - earn a sufficiency. But, dearest, I own that I feel - disgusted with myself when I think that I have diminished - your present comfort, or perhaps lessened for the future - resources which would have been yours rather than mine. - But the milk has been spilt, and now we must only think - what we can best do without it. It seems to me that only - two homes are possible for you,--one with Sir Thomas - as his niece, and the other with me as my wife. I am - conceited enough to think that you will prefer the latter - even with many inconveniences. Neither can your uncle - or your aunt prevent you from marrying at a very early - day, should you choose to do so. There would be some - preliminary ceremony, of the nature of which I am - thoroughly ignorant, but which could, I suppose, be - achieved in a month. I would advise you to ask your aunt - boldly whether she wishes you to go or to stay with her, - explaining, of course, that you intend to hold to your - engagement, and explaining at the same time that you are - quite ready to be married at once if she is anxious to be - quit of you. That is my advice. - - And now, dear, one word of something softer! For did any - lover ever write to the lady of his heart so long a letter - so abominably stuffed with matters of business? How shall - I best tell you how dearly I love you? Perhaps I may do it - by showing you that as far as I myself am concerned I long - to hear that your Aunt Emmeline and your Uncle Tom are - more hard-hearted and obdurate than were ever uncle and - aunt before them. I long to hear that you have been turned - out into the cold, because I know that then you must come - to me, though it be even less than three hundred a-year. - I wish you could have seen your uncle's face as those - terribly mean figures reached his ears. I do not for a - moment fear that we should want. Orders come slow enough, - but they come a little quicker than they did. I have never - for a moment doubted my own ultimate success, and if - you were with me I should be more confident than ever. - Nevertheless, should your aunt bid you to stay, and should - you think it right to comply with her desire, I will not - complain. - - Adieu! This comes from one who is altogether happy in his - confidence that at any rate before long you will have - become his wife. - - ISADORE HAMEL. - - I quite expect to be scolded for my awkwardness. Indeed I - shall be disappointed if I am not. - - -The same post which brought Hamel's long letter to Lucy brought also -a short but very angry scrawl from Sir Thomas to his wife. No eyes -but those of Lady Tringle saw this epistle, and no other eyes shall -see it. But the few words which it contained were full of marital -wrath. Why had she threatened to turn her own niece out of his doors? -Why had she subjected him to the necessity of defending her by a -false assertion? Those Dormer nieces of hers were giving him an -amount of trouble and annoyance which he certainly had not deserved. -Lucy, though not a word was said to her of this angry letter, was -conscious that something had been added to her aunt's acerbity. -Indeed, for the last day or two her aunt's acerbity towards her -had been much diminished. Lady Tringle had known that her husband -intended to do something by which the Hamel marriage would be -rendered possible; and she, though she altogether disapproved of -the Hamel marriage, would be obliged to accede to it if Sir Thomas -acceded to it and encouraged it by his money. Let them be married, -and then, as far as the Tringles were concerned, let there be an end -of these Dormer troubles for ever. To that idea Lady Tringle had -reconciled herself as soon as Sir Thomas had declared his purpose, -but now,--as she declared to herself,--"all the fat was again in the -fire." She received Lucy's salutations on that morning with a very -bad grace. - -But she had been desired to give no message, and therefore she was -silent on the subject to Lucy. To the Honourable Mrs. Traffick she -said a few words. "After all Ayala was not half as bad as Lucy," said -Lady Tringle. - -"There, mamma, I think you are wrong," said the Honourable Mrs. -Traffick. "Of all the upsetting things I ever knew Ayala was the -worst. Think of her conduct with Septimus." Lady Tringle made a -little grimace, which, however, her daughter did not see. "And then -with that Marchesa!" - -"That was the Marchesa's fault." - -"And with Tom!" - -"I don't think she was so much to blame with Tom. If she were, why -doesn't she take him now she can have him? He is just as foolish -about her as ever. Upon my word I think Tom will make himself ill -about it." - -"You haven't heard it all, mamma." - -"What haven't I heard?" - -"Ayala has been down with the Alburys at Stalham." - -"I did hear that." - -"And another man has turned up. What on earth they see in her is what -I can't understand." - -"Another man has offered to her! Who is he?" - -"There was a Colonel Stubbs down there. Septimus heard it all from -young Batsby at the club. She got this man to ride about the country -with her everywhere, going to the meets with him and coming home. And -in this way she got him to propose to her. I don't suppose he means -anything; but that is why she won't have anything to do with Tom now. -Do you mean to say she didn't do all she could to catch Tom down at -Glenbogie, and then at Rome? Everybody saw it. I don't think Lucy has -ever been so bad as that." - -"It's quite different, my dear." - -"She has come from a low father," said the Honourable Mrs. Traffick, -proudly, "and therefore she has naturally attached herself to a low -young man. There is nothing to be wondered at in that. I suppose they -are fond of each other, and the sooner they are married the better." - -"But he can't marry her because he has got nothing." - -"Papa will do something." - -"That's just what your papa won't. The man has been to your father -in the City and there has been ever such a row. He spoke ill of me -because I endeavoured to do my duty by the ungrateful girl. I am -sure I have got a lesson as to taking up other people's children. I -endeavoured to do an act of charity, and see what has come of it. I -don't believe in charity." - -"That is wicked, mamma. Faith, Hope, and Charity! But you've got to -be charitable before you begin the others." - -"I don't think it is wicked. People would do best if they were made -to go along on what they've got of their own." This seemed to Augusta -to be a direct blow at Septimus and herself. "Of course I know what -you mean, mamma." - -"I didn't mean anything." - -"But, if people can't stay for a few weeks in their own parents' -houses, I don't know where they are to stay." - -"It isn't weeks, Augusta; it's months. And as to parents, Lord -Boardotrade is Mr. Traffick's parent. Why doesn't he go and stay with -Lord Boardotrade?" Then Augusta got up and marched with stately step -out of the room. After this it was not possible that Lucy would find -much immediate grace in her aunt's eyes. - -From the moment that Lucy had received her letter there came upon her -the great burden of answering it. She was very anxious to do exactly -as Hamel had counselled her. She was quite alive to the fact that -Hamel had been imprudent in Lombard Street; but not the less was she -desirous to do as he bade her,--thinking it right that a woman should -obey some one, and that her obedience could be due only to him. But -in order to obey him she must consult her aunt. "Aunt Emmeline," she -said that afternoon, "I want to ask you something?" - -"What is it now?" said Aunt Emmeline, crossly. - -"About Mr. Hamel." - -"I don't want to hear any more about Mr. Hamel. I have heard quite -enough of Mr. Hamel." - -"Of course I am engaged to him, Aunt Emmeline." - -"So I hear you say. I do not think it very dutiful of you to come and -talk to me about him, knowing as you do what I think about him." - -"What I want to ask is this. Ought I to stay here or ought I to go -away?" - -"I never heard such a girl! Where are you to go to? What makes you -ask the question?" - -"Because you said that I ought to go if I did not give him up." - -"You ought to give him up." - -"I cannot do that, aunt." - -"Then you had better hold your tongue and say nothing further about -it. I don't believe he earns enough to give you bread to eat and -decent clothes to wear. What would you do if children were to come -year after year? If you really love him I wonder how you can think of -being such a millstone round a man's neck!" - -This was very hard to bear. It was so different from the delicious -comfort of his letter. "I do not for a moment believe that we should -want." "I have never for one moment doubted my own ultimate success." -But after all was there not more of truth in her aunt's words, hard -and cruel as they were? And on these words, such as they were, she -must found her answer to her lover; for he had bade her ask her -aunt what she was to do as to staying or preparing herself for an -immediate marriage. Then, before the afternoon was over, she wrote to -Hamel as follows;-- - - - DEAR ISADORE, - - I have got ever so much to say, but I shall begin by doing - as you told me in your postscript. I won't quite scold - you, but I do think you might have been a little gentler - with poor Uncle Tom. I do not say this because I at all - regret anything which perhaps he might have done for us. - If you do not want assistance from him certainly I do - not. But I do think that he meant to be kind; and, though - he may not be quite what you call a gentleman of fine - feeling, yet he has taken me into his house when I had no - other to go to, and in many respects has been generous to - me. When he said that you were to go to him in Lombard - Street, I am sure that he meant to be generous. And, - though it has not ended well, yet he meant to be kind to - both of us. - - There is what you will call my scolding; though, indeed, - dearest, I do not intend to scold at all. Nor am I in the - least disappointed except in regard to you. This morning - I have been to Aunt Emmeline, as you desired, and I must - say that she was very cross. Of course I know that it is - because she is my own aunt that Uncle Tom has me here at - all; and I feel that I ought to be very grateful to her. - But, in spite of all that you say, laughing at Uncle Tom - because he wants you to sell your grand work by auction, - he is much more good-natured than Aunt Emmeline. I am - quite sure my aunt never liked me, and that she will - not be comfortable till I am gone. But when I asked her - whether I ought to stay, or to go, she told me to hold my - tongue, and say nothing further about it. Of course, by - this, she meant that I was to remain, at any rate for the - present. - - My own dearest, I do think this will be best, though I - need not tell you how I look forward to leaving this, and - being always with you. For myself I am not a bit afraid, - though Aunt Emmeline said dreadful things about food - and clothes, and all the rest of it. But I believe much - more in what you say, that success will be sure to come. - But still will it not be wise to wait a little longer? - Whatever I may have to bear here, I shall think that I am - bearing it for your dear sake; and then I shall be happy. - - Believe me to be always and always your own - - LUCY. - - -This was written and sent on a Wednesday, and nothing further was -said either by Lucy herself, or by her aunt, as to the lover, till -Sir Thomas came down to Merle Park on the Saturday evening. On his -arrival he seemed inclined to be gracious to the whole household, -even including Mr. Traffick, who received any attention of that kind -exactly as though the most amicable arrangements were always existing -between him and his father-in-law. Aunt Emmeline, when it seemed that -she was to encounter no further anger on account of the revelation -which Hamel had made in Lombard Street, also recovered her temper, -and the evening was spent as though there were no causes for serious -family discord. In this spirit, on the following morning, they all -went to church, and it was delightful to hear the flattering words -with which Mr. Traffick praised Merle Park, and everything belonging -to it, during the hour of lunch. He went so far as to make some -delicately laudatory hints in praise of hospitality in general, and -especially as to that so nobly exercised by London merchant-princes. -Sir Thomas smiled as he heard him, and, as he smiled, he resolved -that, as soon as the Christmas festivities should be over, the -Honourable Septimus Traffick should certainly be turned out of that -house. - -After lunch there came a message to Lucy by a page-boy, who was -supposed to attend generally to the personal wants of Aunt Emmeline, -saying that her uncle would be glad of her attendance for a walk. "My -dear," said he, "have you got your thick boots on? Then go and put -'em on. We will go down to the Lodge, and then come home round by -Windover Hill." She did as she was bade, and then they started. "I -want to tell you," said he, "that this Mr. Hamel of yours came to me -in Lombard Street." - -"I know that, Uncle Tom." - -"He has written to you, then, and told you all about it?" - -"He has written to me, certainly, and I have answered him." - -"No doubt. Well, Lucy, I had intended to be kind to your Mr. Hamel, -but, as you are probably aware, I was not enabled to carry out my -intentions. He seems to be a very independent sort of young man." - -"He is independent, I think." - -"I have not a word to say against it. If a man can be independent it -is so much the better. If a man can do everything for himself, so -as to require neither to beg nor to borrow, it will be much better -for him. But, my dear, you must understand that a man cannot be -independent with one hand, and accept assistance with the other, at -one and the same time." - -"That is not his character, I am sure," said Lucy, striving to hide -her indignation while she defended her lover's character. - -"I do not think it is. Therefore he must remain independent, and I -can do nothing for him." - -"He knows that, Uncle Tom." - -"Very well. Then there's an end of it. I only want to make you -understand that I was willing to assist him, but that he was -unwilling to be assisted. I like him all the better for it, but there -must be an end of it." - -"I quite understand, Uncle Tom." - -"Then there's one other thing I've got to say. He accused me of -having threatened to turn you out of my house. Now, my dear--" -Hereupon Lucy struggled to say a word, hardly knowing what word she -ought to say, but he interrupted her,--"Just hear me out till I've -done, and then there need not be another word about it. I never -threatened to turn you out." - -"Not you, Uncle Tom," she said, endeavouring to press his arm with -her hand. - -"If your aunt said a word in her anger you should not have made -enough of it to write and tell him." - -"I thought she meant me to go, and then I didn't know whom else to -ask." - -"Neither I nor she, nor anybody else, ever intended to turn you out. -I have meant to be kind to you both,--to you and Ayala; and if things -have gone wrong I cannot say that it has been my fault. Now, you had -better stay here, and not say a word more about it till he is ready -to take you. That can't be yet for a long time. He is making, at -present, not more than two hundred a year. And I am sure it must be -quite as much as he can do to keep a coat on his back with such an -income as that. You must make up your mind to wait,--probably for -some years. As I told you before, if a man chooses to have the glory -of independence he must also bear the inconvenience. Now, my dear, -let there be an end of this, and never say again that I want to turn -you out of my house." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -TOM TRINGLE SENDS A CHALLENGE. - - -The next six weeks went on tranquilly at Merle Park without a word -spoken about Hamel. Sir Thomas, who was in the country as little as -possible, showed his scorn to his son-in-law simply by the paucity -of his words, speaking to him, when he did speak to him, with -a deliberate courtesy which Mr. Traffick perfectly understood. -It was that dangerous serenity which so often presages a storm. -"There is something going to be up with your father," he said to -Augusta. Augusta replied that she had never seen her father so civil -before. "It would be a great convenience," continued the Member of -Parliament, "if he could be made to hold his tongue till Parliament -meets; but I'm afraid that's too good to expect." In other respects -things were comfortable at Merle Park, though they were not always -comfortable up in London. Tom, as the reader knows, was misbehaving -himself sadly at the Mountaineers. This was the period of unlimited -champagne, and of almost total absence from Lombard Street. It was -seldom that Sir Thomas could get hold of his son, and when he did -that broken-hearted youth would reply to his expostulations simply -by asserting that if his father would induce Ayala to marry him -everything should go straight in Lombard Street. Then came the final -blow. Tom was of course expected at Merle Park on Christmas Eve, -but did not make his appearance either then or on Christmas Day. -Christmas fell on a Wednesday, and it was intended that the family -should remain in the country till the following Monday. On the -Thursday Sir Thomas went up to town to make inquiries respecting his -heir, as to whom Lady Tringle had then become absolutely unhappy. In -London he heard the disastrous truth. Tom, in his sportive mood, had -caused serious inconvenience to a most respectable policeman, and -was destined to remain another week in the hands of the Philistines. -Then, for a time, all the other Tringle troubles were buried and -forgotten in this great trouble respecting Tom. Lady Tringle was -unable to leave her room during the period of incarceration. Mr. -Traffick promised to have the victim liberated by the direct -interference of the Secretary of State, but failed to get anything -of the kind accomplished. The girls were completely cowed by the -enormity of the misfortune; so that Tom's name was hardly mentioned -except in sad and confidential whispers. But of all the sufferers Sir -Thomas suffered the most. To him it was a positive disgrace, weighing -down every moment of his life. At Travers and Treason he could not -hold up his head boldly and open his mouth loudly as had always been -his wont. At Travers and Treason there was not a clerk who did not -know that "the governor" was an altered man since this misfortune had -happened to the hope of the firm. What passed between Sir Thomas and -his son on the occasion has already been told in a previous chapter. -That Sir Thomas, on the whole, behaved with indulgence must be -acknowledged; but he felt that his son must in truth absent himself -from Lombard Street for a time. - -Tom had been advised by his father to go forth and see the world. A -prolonged tour had been proposed to him which to most young men might -seem to have great attraction. To him it would have had attraction -enough, had it not been for Ayala. There would have been hardly any -limit to the allowance made to him, and he would have gone forth -armed with introductions, which would have made every port a happy -home to him. But as soon as the tour was suggested he resolved at -once that he could not move himself to a distance from Ayala. What he -expected,--what he even hoped,--he could not tell himself. But while -Ayala was in London, and Ayala was unmarried, he could not be made to -take himself far away. - -He was thoroughly ashamed of himself. He was not at all the man who -could bear a week of imprisonment and not think himself disgraced. -For a day or two he shut himself up altogether in his lodgings, and -never once showed himself at the Mountaineers. Faddle came to him, -but he snubbed Faddle at first, remembering all the severe things his -father had said about the Faddles in general. But he soon allowed -that feeling to die away when the choice seemed to be between Faddle -and solitude. Then he crept out in the dark and ate his dinners with -Faddle at some tavern, generally paying the bill for both of them. -After dinner he would play half-a-dozen games of billiards with his -friend at some unknown billiard-room, and then creep home to his -lodgings,--a blighted human being! - -At last, about the end of the first week in January, he was induced -to go down to Merle Park. There Mr. and Mrs. Traffick were still -sojourning, the real grief which had afflicted Sir Thomas having -caused him to postpone his intention in regard to his son-in-law. -At Merle Park Tom was cosseted and spoilt by the women very -injudiciously. It was not perhaps the fact that they regarded him -as a hero simply because he had punched a policeman in the stomach -and then been locked up in vindication of the injured laws of his -country; but that incident in combination with his unhappy love did -seem to make him heroic. Even Lucy regarded him with favour because -of his constancy to her sister; whereas the other ladies measured -their admiration for his persistency by the warmth of their anger -against the silly girl who was causing so much trouble. His mother -told him over and over again that his cousin was not worth his -regard; but then, when he would throw himself on the sofa in an agony -of despair,--weakened perhaps as much by the course of champagne as -by the course of his love,--then she, too, would bid him hope, and at -last promised that she herself would endeavour to persuade Ayala to -look at the matter in a more favourable light. "It would all be right -if it were not for that accursed Stubbs," poor Tom would say to his -mother. "The man whom I called my friend! The man I lent a horse to -when he couldn't get one anywhere else! The man to whom I confided -everything, even about the necklace! If it hadn't been for Stubbs -I never should have hurt that policeman! When I was striking him -I thought that it was Stubbs!" Then the mother would heap feminine -maledictions on the poor Colonel's head, and so together they would -weep and think of revenge. - -From the moment Tom had heard Colonel Stubbs's name mentioned as that -of his rival he had meditated revenge. It was quite true when he said -that he had been thinking of Stubbs when he struck the policeman. He -had consumed the period of his confinement in gnashing his teeth, all -in regard to our poor friend Jonathan. He told his father that he -could not go upon his long tour because of Ayala. But in truth his -love was now so mixed up with ideas of vengeance that he did not -himself know which prevailed. If he could first have slaughtered -Stubbs then perhaps he might have started! But how was he to -slaughter Stubbs? Various ideas occurred to his mind. At first -he thought that he would go down to Aldershot with the biggest -cutting-whip he could find in any shop in Piccadilly; but then it -occurred to him that at Aldershot he would have all the British army -against him, and that the British army might do something to him -worse even than the London magistrate. Then he would wait till the -Colonel could be met elsewhere. He ascertained that the Colonel was -still at Stalham, where he had passed the Christmas, and he thought -how it might be if he were to attack the Colonel in the presence of -his friends, the Alburys. He assured himself that, as far as personal -injury went, he feared nothing. He had no disinclination to be hit -over the head himself, if he could be sure of hitting the Colonel -over the head. If it could be managed that they two should fly at -each other with their fists, and be allowed to do the worst they -could to each other for an hour, without interference, he would be -quite satisfied. But down at Stalham that would not be allowed. All -the world would be against him, and nobody there to see that he got -fair play. If he could encounter the man in the streets of London it -would be better; but were he to seek the man down at Stalham he would -probably find himself in the County Lunatic Asylum. What must he do -for his revenge? He was surely entitled to it. By all the laws of -chivalry, as to which he had his own ideas, he had a right to inflict -an injury upon a successful--even upon an unsuccessful--rival. Was it -not a shame that so excellent an institution as duelling should have -been stamped out? Wandering about the lawns and shrubberies at Merle -Park he thought of all this, and at last he came to a resolution. - -The institution had been stamped out, as far as Great Britain was -concerned. He was aware of that. But it seemed to him that it had not -been stamped out in other more generous countries. He had happened to -notice that a certain enthusiastic politician in France had enjoyed -many duels, and had never been severely repressed by the laws of his -country. Newspaper writers were always fighting in France, and were -never guillotined. The idea of being hanged was horrible to him,--so -distasteful that he saw at a glance that a duel in England was out -of the question. But to have his head cut off, even if it should -come to that, would be a much less affair. But in Belgium, in Italy, -in Germany, they never did cut off the heads of the very numerous -gentlemen who fought duels. And there were the Southern States of the -American Union, where he fancied that men might fight duels just as -they pleased. He would be ready to go even to New Orleans at a day's -notice if only he could induce Colonel Stubbs to meet him there. And -he thought that, if Colonel Stubbs really possessed half the spirit -which seemed to be attributed to him by the British army generally, -he would come, if properly invoked, and fight such a duel as this, -whether at New Orleans or at some other well-chosen blood-allowing -spot on the world's surface. Tom was prepared to go anywhere for -blood. - -But the invocation must be properly made. When he had wanted another -letter of another kind to be written for him, the Colonel himself -was the man to whom he had gone for assistance. And, had his present -enemy been any other than the Colonel himself, he would have gone -to the Colonel in preference to any one else for aid in this matter. -There was no one, in truth, in whom he believed so thoroughly as in -the Colonel. But that was out of the question. Then he reflected -what friend might now stand him in stead. He would have gone to -Houston, who wanted to marry his sister; but Houston seemed to have -disappeared, and he did not know where he might be found. There was -his brother-in-law, Traffick,--but he feared lest Traffick might give -him over once more into the hands of the police. He thought of Hamel, -as being in a way connected with the family; but he had seen so -little of Hamel, and had so much disliked what he had seen, that he -was obliged to let that hope go by. There was no one left but Faddle -whom he could trust. Faddle would do anything he was told to do. -Faddle would carry the letter, no doubt, or allow himself to be named -as a proposed second. But Faddle could not write the letter. He felt -that he could write the letter himself better than Faddle. - -He went up to town, having sent a mysterious letter to Faddle, -bidding his friend attend him in his lodgings. He did not yet dare -to go to the Mountaineers, where Faddle would have been found. But -Faddle came, true to the appointment. "What is it, now?" said the -faithful friend. "I hope you are going back to Travers and Treason's. -That is what I should do, and walk in just as though nothing had -happened." - -"Not if you were me, you wouldn't." - -"That does make a difference, of course." - -"There is something else to be done before I can again darken the -doors of Travers and Treason,--if I should ever do so!" - -"Something particular?" - -"Something very particular. Faddle, I do think you are a true -friend." - -"You may say that. I have stuck to you always,--though you don't know -the kind of things my people say to me about it. They say I am going -to ruin myself because of you. The governor threatened to put me out -of the business altogether. But I'm a man who will be true to my -friend, whatever happens. I think you have been a little cool to me, -lately; but even that don't matter." - -"Cool! If you knew the state that I'm in you wouldn't talk of a -fellow being cool! I'm so knocked about it all that I don't know what -I'm doing." - -"I do take that into consideration." - -"Now, I'll tell you what I am going to do." Then he stood still, and -looked Faddle full in the face. Faddle, sitting awe-struck on his -chair, returned the gaze. He knew that a moment of supreme importance -was at hand. "Faddle, I'll shoot that fellow down like a dog." - -"Will you, indeed?" - -"Like a dog;--if I can get at him. I should have no more compunction -in taking his life than a mere worm. Why should I, when I know that -he has sapped the very juice of my existence?" - -"Do you mean,--do you mean,--that you would--murder him?" - -"It would not be murder. Of course it might be that he would shoot me -instead. Upon the whole, I think I should like that best." - -"Oh; a duel!" said Faddle. - -"That's what I mean. Murder him! Certainly not. Though I should like -nothing half so well as to thrash him within an inch of his life. -I would not murder him. My plan is this,--I shall write to him a -letter inviting him to meet me in any corner of the globe that he -may select. Torrid zone or Arctic circle will be all the same to me. -You will have to accompany me as my second." Faddle shivered with -excitement and dread of coming events. Among other ideas there came -the thought that it might be difficult to get back from the Arctic -circle without money if his friend Tom should happen to be shot dead -in that locality. "But first of all," continued Tom, "you will have -to carry a letter." - -"To the Colonel?" suggested Faddle. - -"Of course. The man is now staying with friends of his named Albury -at a place called Stalham. From what I hear they are howling swells. -Sir Harry Albury is Master of the Hounds, and Lady Albury when she -is up in London has all the Royal Family constantly at her parties. -Stubbs is a cousin of his; but you must go right away up to him among -'em all, and deliver the letter into his hands without minding 'em a -bit." - -"Couldn't it go by post?" - -"No; this kind of letter musn't go by post. You have to be able to -swear that you delivered it yourself into his own hands. And then you -must wait for an answer. Even though he should want a day to think of -it, you must wait." - -"Where am I to stay, Tom?" - -"Well; it may be they'll ask you to the house, because, though you -carry the letter for me, you are not supposed to be his enemy. If so, -put a jolly face on it, and enjoy yourself as well as you can. You -must seem, you know, to be just as big a swell as anybody there. But -if they don't ask you, you must go to the nearest inn. I'll pay the -bill." - -"Shall I go to-day?" asked Faddle. - -"I've got to write the letter first. It'll take a little time, so -that you'd better put it off till to-morrow. If you will leave me -now I'll write it, and if you will come back at six we'll go and -have a bit of dinner at Bolivia's." This was an eating-house in the -neighbourhood of Leicester Square, to which the friends had become -partial during this troubled period of their existence. - -"Why not come to the Mountaineers, old boy?" Tom shook his head, -showing that he was not yet up to such festivity as that; and then -Faddle took his departure. - -Tom at once got out his pen and paper, and began to write his letter. -It may be imagined that it was not written off-hand, or without many -struggles. When it was written it ran as follows;-- - - - SIR, - - You will not, I think, be surprised to hear from me in - anything but a friendly spirit. I went down to you at - Aldershot as to a friend whom I could trust with my - bosom's dearest secret, and you have betrayed me. I told - you of my love, a love which has long burned in my heart, - and you received my confidence with a smile, knowing all - the time that you were my rival. I leave it to you to - say what reply you can make as to conduct so damning, so - unmanly, so dastardly,--and so very unlike a friend as - this! - - However, there is no place here for words. You have - offered me the greatest insult and the greatest injury - which one man can inflict upon another! There is no - possibility of an apology, unless you are inclined to - say that you will renounce for ever your claim upon the - hand of Miss Ayala Dormer. This I do not expect, and, - therefore, I call upon you to give me that satisfaction - which is all that one gentleman can offer to another. - After the injury you have done me I think it quite - impossible that you should refuse. - - Of course, I know that duels cannot be fought in England - because of the law. I am sorry that the law should have - been altered, because it allows so many cowards to escape - the punishment they deserve. - - -Tom, as he wrote this, was very proud of the keenness of the -allusion. "I am quite sure, however, that a man who bears the colours -of a colonel in the British army will not try to get off by such a -pretext." He was proud, too, about the colours. - - - France, Belgium, Italy, the United States, and all the - world, are open! I will meet you wherever you may choose - to arrange a meeting. I presume that you will prefer - pistols. - - I send this by the hands of my friend, Mr. Faddle, who - will be prepared to make arrangements with you, or with - any friend on your behalf. He will bring back your reply, - which no doubt will be satisfactory.--I am, Sir, your most - obedient servant, - - THOMAS TRINGLE, junior. - - -When, after making various copies, Tom at last read the letter as -finally prepared, he was much pleased with it, doubting whether the -Colonel himself could have written it better, had the task been -confided to his hands. When Faddle came, he read it to him with much -pride, and then committed it to his custody. After that they went out -and ate their dinner at Bolivia's with much satisfaction, but still -with a bearing of deep melancholy, as was proper on such an occasion. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -TOM TRINGLE GETS AN ANSWER. - - -Faddle as he went down into the country made up his mind that the law -which required such letters to be delivered by hand was an absurd -law. The post would have done just as well, and would have saved a -great deal of trouble. These gloomy thoughts were occasioned by a -conviction that he could not carry himself easily or make himself -happy among such "howling swells" as these Alburys. If they should -invite him to the house the matter would be worse that way than the -other. He had no confidence in his dress coat, which he was aware -had been damaged by nocturnal orgies. It is all very well to tell a -fellow to be as "big a swell" as anybody else, as Tom had told him. -But Faddle acknowledged to himself the difficulty of acting up to -such advice. Even the eyes of Colonel Stubbs turned upon him after -receipt of the letter would oppress him. - -Nevertheless he must do his best, and he took a gig at the station -nearest to Albury. He was careful to carry his bag with him, but -still he lived in hope that he would be able to return to London the -same day. When he found himself within the lodges of Stalham Park -he could hardly keep himself from shivering, and, when he asked the -footman at the door whether Colonel Stubbs were there, he longed to -be told that Colonel Stubbs had gone away on the previous day to -some--he did not care what--distant part of the globe. But Colonel -Stubbs had not gone away. Colonel Stubbs was in the house. - -Our friend the Colonel had not suffered as Tom had suffered since his -rejection;--but nevertheless he had been much concerned. He had set -his heart upon Ayala before he had asked her, and could not bring -himself to change his heart because she had refused him. He had -gone down to Aldershot and had performed his duties, abstaining for -the present from repeating his offer. The offer of course must be -repeated, but as to the when, the where, and the how, he had not as -yet made up his mind. Then Tom Tringle had come to him at Aldershot -communicating to him the fact that he had a rival;--and also the -other fact that the other rival like himself had hitherto been -unsuccessful. It seemed improbable to him that such a girl as -Ayala should attach herself to such a man as her cousin Tom. But -nevertheless he was uneasy. He regarded Tom Tringle as a miracle of -wealth, and felt certain that the united efforts of the whole family -would be used to arrange the match. Ayala had refused him also, and -therefore, up to the present moment, the chances of the other man -were no better than his own. When Tom left him at Aldershot he hardly -remembered that Tom knew nothing of his secret, whereas Tom had -communicated to him his own. It never for a moment occurred to him -that Tom would quarrel with him; although he had seen that the poor -fellow had been disgusted because he had refused to write the letter. - -On Christmas Eve he had gone down to Stalham, and there he had -remained discussing the matter of his love with Lady Albury. To no -one else in the house had the affair been mentioned, and by Sir Harry -he was supposed to remain there only for the sake of the hunting. -With Sir Harry he was of all guests the most popular, and thus it -came to pass that his prolonged presence at Stalham was not matter -of special remark. Much of his time he did devote to hunting, but -there were half hours devoted in company with Lady Albury to Ayala's -perfection and Ayala's obstinacy. - -Lady Albury was almost inclined to think that Ayala should be given -up. Married ladies seldom estimate even the girls they like best at -their full value. It seems to such a one as Lady Albury almost a -pity that such a one as Colonel Stubbs should waste his energy upon -anything so insignificant as Ayala Dormer. The speciality of the -attraction is of course absent to the woman, and unless she has -considered the matter so far as to be able to clothe her thoughts in -male vestments, as some women do, she cannot understand the longing -that is felt for so small a treasure. Lady Albury thought that young -ladies were very well, and that Ayala was very well among young -ladies; but Ayala in getting Colonel Stubbs for a husband would, as -Lady Albury thought, have received so much more than her desert that -she was now almost inclined to be angry with the Colonel. "My dear -friend," he said to her one day, "you might as well take it for -granted. I shall go after my princess with all the energy which a -princess merits." - -"The question is whether she be a princess," said Lady Albury. - -"Allow me to say that that is a point on which I cannot admit a -doubt. She is a princess to me, and just at present I must be -regarded as the only judge in the matter." - -"She shall be a goddess, if you please," said Lady Albury. - -"Goddess, princess, pink, or pearl;--any name you please supposed to -convey perfection shall be the same to me. It may be that she is in -truth no better, or more lovely, or divine, than many another young -lady who is at the present moment exercising the heart of many -another gentleman. You know enough of the world to be aware that -every Jack has his Gill. She is my Gill, and that's an end of it." - -"I hope then that she may be your Gill." - -"And, in order that she may, you must have her here again. I should -absolutely not know how to go to work were I to find myself in the -presence of Aunt Dosett in Kingsbury Crescent." In answer to this -Lady Albury assured him that she would be quite willing to have the -girl again at Stalham if it could be managed. She was reminding him, -however, how difficult it had been on a previous occasion to overcome -the scruples of Mrs. Dosett, when a servant brought in word to -Colonel Stubbs that there was a man in the hall desirous of seeing -him immediately on particular business. Then the servant presented -our friend Faddle's card. - - - MR. SAMUEL FADDLE, - 1, Badminton Gardens. - - -"Yes, Sir;" said the servant. "He says he has a letter which he must -put into your own particular hands." - -"That looks like a bailiff," said Lady Albury, laughing. Colonel -Stubbs, declaring that he had no special reason to be afraid of any -bailiff, left the room and went down into the hall. - -At Stalham the real hall of the house was used as a billiard-room, -and here, leaning against the billiard table, the Colonel found -poor Faddle. When a man is compelled by some chance circumstance to -address another man whom he does not know, and whom by inspection he -feels he shall never wish to know, he always hardens his face, and -sometimes also his voice. So it was with the Colonel when he looked -at Faddle. A word he did say, not in words absolutely uncivil, as to -the nature of the business in hand. Then Faddle, showing his emotion -by a quaver in his voice, suggested that as the matter was one of -extreme delicacy some more private apartment might be provided. Upon -this Stubbs led the way into a little room which was for the most -part filled with hunting-gear, and offered the stranger one of the -three chairs which it contained. Faddle sat down, finding himself -so compelled, though the Colonel still remained standing, and then -extracted the fatal epistle from his pocket. "Colonel Stubbs," said -he, handing up the missive, "I am directed by my friend, Mr. Thomas -Tringle, junior, to put this letter into your own hand. When you have -read it I shall be ready to consult with you as to its contents." -These few words he had learnt by heart on his journey down, having -practised them continually. - -The Colonel took the letter, and turning to the window read it with -his back to the visitor. He read it twice from beginning to end in -order that he might have time to resolve whether he would laugh aloud -at both Faddle and Tringle, or whether it might not be better to -endeavour to soften the anger of poor Tom by a message which should -be at any rate kindly worded. "This is from my friend, Tom Tringle," -he said. - -"From Mr. Thomas Tringle, junior," said Faddle, proudly. - -"So I perceive. I am sorry to think that he should be in so much -trouble. He is one of the best fellows I know, and I am really -grieved that he should be unhappy. This, you know, is all nonsense." - -"It is not nonsense at all, Colonel Stubbs." - -"You must allow me to be the judge of that, Mr. Faddle. It is at -any rate nonsense to me. He wants me to go somewhere and fight a -duel,--which I should not do with any man under any circumstances. -Here there is no possible ground for any quarrel whatsoever,--as -I will endeavour to explain, myself, to my friend, Mr. Tringle. I -shall be sure to write to him at once,--and so I will bid you good -afternoon." - -But this did not at all suit poor Faddle after so long a journey. -"I thought it probable that you would write, Colonel Stubbs, and -therefore I am prepared to wait. If I cannot be accommodated here I -will wait,--will wait elsewhere." - -"That will not be at all necessary. We have a post to London twice a -day." - -"You must be aware, Colonel Stubbs, that letters of this sort should -not be sent by post." - -"The kind of letter I shall write may be sent by post very well. It -will not be bellicose, and therefore there can be no objection." - -"I really think, Colonel Stubbs, that you are making very little of a -very serious matter." - -"Mr. Faddle, I really must manage my own affairs after my own way. -Would you like a glass of sherry? If not, I need hardly ask you to -stay here any longer." Upon that he went out into the billiard-room -and rang the bell. Poor Faddle would have liked the glass of sherry, -but he felt that it would be incompatible with the angry dignity -which he assumed, and he left the house without another word or even -a gesture of courtesy. Then he returned to London, having taken his -bag and dress coat all the way to Stalham for nothing. - -Tom's letter was almost too good to be lost, but there was no one to -whom the joke could be made known except Lady Albury. She, he was -sure, would keep poor Tom's secret as well as his own, and to her he -showed the letter. "I pity him from the bottom of my heart," he said. -Lady Albury declared that the writer of such a letter was too absurd -for pity. "Not at all. Unless he really loved her he wouldn't have -been so enraged. I suppose he does think that I injured him. He did -tell me his story, and I didn't tell him mine. I can understand it -all, though I didn't imagine he was such a fool as to invite me -to travel all round the world because of the harsh laws of Great -Britain. Nevertheless, I shall write to him quite an affectionate -letter, remembering that, should I succeed myself, he will be my -first cousin by marriage." - -Before he went to bed that night he wrote his letter, and the reader -may as well see the whole correspondence;-- - - - MY DEAR TRINGLE, - - If you will think of it all round you will see that you - have got no cause of quarrel with me any more than I have - with you. If it be the case that we are both attached to - your cousin, we must abide her decision whether it be in - favour of either of us, or, as may be too probably the - case, equally adverse to both of us. If I understand your - letter rightly, you think that I behaved unfairly when I - did not tell you of my own affairs upon hearing yours from - your own lips. Why should I? Why should I have been held - to be constrained to tell my secret because you, for - your own sake, had told me yours? Had I been engaged to - your cousin,--which I regret to say is very far from the - case,--I should have told you, naturally. I should have - regarded the matter as settled, and should have acquainted - you with a fact which would have concerned you. But as - such was not a fact, I was by no means bound to tell you - how my affairs stood. This ought to be clear to you, and I - hope will be when you have read what I say. - - I may as well go on to declare that under no circumstances - should I fight a duel with you. If I thought I had done - wrong in the matter I would beg your pardon. I can't - do that as it is,--though I am most anxious to appease - you,--because I have done you no wrong. - - Pray forget your animosity,--which is in truth - unfounded,--and let us be friends as we were before. - - Yours very sincerely, - - JONATHAN STUBBS. - - -Faddle reached London the evening before the Colonel's letter, and -again dined with his friend at Bolivia's. At first they were both -extremely angry, acerbating each other's wrath. Now that he was safe -back in London Faddle thought that he would have enjoyed an evening -among the "swells" of Stalham, and felt himself to be injured by the -inhospitable treatment he had received--"after going all the way down -there, hardly to be asked to sit down!" - -"Not asked to sit down!" - -"Well, yes, I was;--on a miserable cane-bottomed chair in a sort of -cupboard. And he didn't sit down. You may call them swells, but I -think your Colonel Stubbs is a very vulgar sort of fellow. When I -told him the post isn't the proper thing for such a letter, he only -laughed. I suppose he doesn't know what is the kind of thing among -gentlemen." - -"I should think he does know," said Tom. - -"Then why doesn't he act accordingly? Would you believe it; he never -so much as asked me whether I had a mouth on. It was just luncheon -time, too." - -"I suppose they lunch late." - -"They might have asked me. I shouldn't have taken it. He did say -something about a glass of sherry, but it was in that sort of tone -which tells a fellow that he is expected not to take it. And then -he pretended to laugh. I could see that he was shaking in his shoes -at the idea of having to fight. He go to the torrid zone! He would -much rather go to a police office if he thought that there was any -fighting on hand. I should dust his jacket with a stick if I were -you." - -Later on in the evening Tom declared that this was what he would -do, but, before he came to that, a third bottle of Signor Bolivia's -champagne had been made to appear. The evening passed between them -not without much enjoyment. On the opening of that third cork the -wine was declared to be less excellent than what had gone before, and -Signor Bolivia was evoked in person. A gentleman named Walker, who -looked after the establishment, made his appearance, and with many -smiles, having been induced to swallow a bumper of the compound -himself, declared, with a knowing shake of the head and an astute -twinkle of the eye, that the wine was not equal to the last. He took -a great deal of trouble, he assured them, to import an article which -could not be surpassed, if it could be equalled, in London, always -visiting Epernay himself once a-year for the purpose of going through -the wine-vaults. Let him do what he would an inferior bottle,--or, -rather, a bottle somewhat inferior,--would sometimes make its way -into his cellar. Would Mr. Tringle let him have the honour of drawing -another cork, so that the exact amount of difference might be -ascertained? Tom gave his sanction; the fourth cork was drawn; and -Mr. Walker, sitting down and consuming the wine with his customers, -was enabled to point out to a hair's breadth the nature and the -extent of the variation. Tringle still thought that the difference -was considerable. Faddle was, on the whole, inclined to agree with -Signor Bolivia. It need hardly be said that the four bottles were -paid for,--or rather scored against Tringle, who at the present time -had a little account at the establishment. - -"Show a fellar fellar's letters morrer." Such or something like it -was Faddle's last request to his friend as they bade each other -farewell for the night in Pall Mall. But Faddle was never destined -to see the Colonel's epistle. On his attempting to let himself in at -Badminton Gardens, he was kidnapped by his father in his night-shirt -and dressing-gown; and was sent out of London on the following -morning by long sea down to Aberdeen, whither he was intrusted to -the charge of a stern uncle. Our friend Tom saw nothing more of his -faithful friend till years had rolled over both their heads. - -By the morning post, while Tom was still lying sick with -headache,--for even with Signor Bolivia's wine the pulling of many -corks is apt to be dangerous,--there came the letter from the -Colonel. Bad as Tom was, he felt himself constrained to read it at -once, and learned that neither the Torrid zone or Arctic circle -would require his immediate attendance. He was very sick, and -perhaps, therefore, less high in courage than on the few previous -days. Partly, perhaps, from that cause, but partly, also, from the -Colonel's logic, he did find that his wrath was somewhat abated. -Not but what it was still present to his mind that if two men loved -the same girl as ardently, as desperately, as eternally as he loved -Ayala, the best thing for them would be to be put together like the -Kilkenny cats, till whatever remnant should be left of one might have -its chance with the young lady. He still thought that it would be -well that they should fight to the death, but a glimmering of light -fell upon his mind as to the Colonel's abnegation of all treason in -the matter. "I suppose it wasn't to be expected that he should tell," -he said to himself. "Perhaps I shouldn't have told in the same place. -But as to forgetting animosity that is out of the question! How is -a man to forget his animosity when two men want to marry the same -girl?" - -About three o'clock on that day he dressed himself, and sat waiting -for Faddle to come to him. He knew how anxious his friend would be -to see the Colonel's letter. But Faddle by this time had passed -the Nore, and had added sea-sickness to his other maladies. Faddle -came to him no more, and the tedious hours of the afternoon wore -themselves away in his lodgings till he found his solitude to be -almost more unbearable than his previous misfortunes. At last came -the time when he must go out for his dinner. He did not dare to -attempt the Mountaineers. And as for Bolivia, Bolivia with his corks, -and his eating-house, and his vintages, was abominable to him. About -eight o'clock he slunk into a quiet little house on the north side of -Oxford Street, and there had two mutton chops, some buttered toast, -and some tea. As he drank his tea he told himself that on the morrow -he would go back to his mother at Merle Park, and get from her such -consolation as might be possible. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -GERTRUDE IS UNSUCCESSFUL. - - -It was now the middle of January, and Gertrude Tringle had received -no reply from her lover to the overture which she had made him. Nor, -indeed, had she received any letter from him since that to which -this overture had been a reply. It was now two months since her -proposition had been made, and during that time her anger had waxed -very hot against Mr. Houston. After all, it might be a question -whether Mr. Houston was worth all the trouble which she, with her -hundred thousand pounds, was taking on his behalf. She did not like -the idea of abandoning him, because, by doing so, she would seem to -yield to her father. Having had a young man of her own, it behoved -her to stick to her young man in spite of her parents. But what is -a girl to do with a lover who, at the end of two months, has made -no reply to an offer from herself that he should run away with her, -and take her to Ostend? She was in this frame of mind when, lo -and behold, she found her own letter, still inclosed in her own -envelope,--but opened, and thrust in amongst some of her father's -papers. It was evident enough that the letter had never passed from -out of the house. There had been treachery on the part of some -servant;--or perhaps her father might have condescended to search the -little box;--or, more probable still, Augusta had betrayed her! Then -she reflected that she had communicated her purpose to her sister, -that her sister had abstained from any questions since the letter -had been written, and that her sister, therefore, no doubt, was the -culprit. There, however, was the letter, which had never reached her -lover's hands, and, as a matter of course, her affections returned -with all their full ardour to the unfortunate ill-used man. That her -conduct was now watched would, she thought, be a matter of course. -Her father knew her purpose, and, like stern parents in general, -would use all his energies to thwart it. Sir Thomas had, in truth, -thought but little about the matter since he had first thrust the -letter away. Tom's troubles, and the disgrace brought by them upon -Travers and Treason generally, had so occupied his mind that he cared -but little for Gertrude and her lover. But Gertrude had no doubt -that she was closely watched, and in these circumstances was driven -to think how she could best use her wits so as to countermine her -father. To run away from Queen's Gate would, she thought, be more -difficult, and more uncomfortable, than to perform the same operation -at Merle Park. It was intended that the family should remain in the -country, at any rate, till Easter, and Gertrude resolved that there -might yet be time for another effort before Easter should be past, if -only she could avoid those hundred Argus eyes, which were, no doubt, -fixed upon her from all sides. - -She prepared another letter to her lover, which she addressed to him -at his club in London. In this she told him nothing of her former -project, except that a letter written by her in November had fallen -into the hands of enemies. Then she gave him to understand that there -was need of the utmost caution; but that, if adequate caution were -used, she did not doubt they might succeed. She said nothing about -her great project, but suggested to him that he should run down -into Sussex, and meet her at a certain spot indicated, outside -the Park-palings, half-an-hour after dusk. It might be, she said, -impossible that the meeting should be effected, but she thought that -she could so manage as to leave the house unwatched at the appointed -hour. With the object of being especially safe she began and -concluded her letter without any names, and then managed to deposit -it herself in the box of the village post-office. - -Houston, when he received this letter, at once made up his mind that -he would not be found on the outer side of the Park-palings on the -evening named. He told himself that he was too old for the romance -of love-making, and that should he be received, when hanging about -in the dark, by some custodian with a cudgel, he would have nothing -to thank but his own folly. He wrote back therefore to say that he -regarded the outside of the Park-palings as indiscreet, but that he -would walk up through the lodge-gate to the house at three o'clock in -the afternoon of the day named, and he would take it as an additional -mark of her favour if she would meet him on the road. Gertrude -had sent him a mysterious address; he was to direct the letter to -"O. P. Q., Post Office, Hastings," and she was prepared to hire a -country boy to act as Love's messenger on the occasion. But of this -instruction Frank took no notice, addressing the letter to Merle Park -in the usual way. - -Gertrude received her letter without notice from any one. On that -occasion Argus, with all his eyes, was by chance asleep. She was very -angry with her lover,--almost determined to reject him altogether, -almost disposed to yield to her angry parents and look out for some -other lover who might be accepted in better part; but still, when -the day came she put on her hat and walked down the road towards the -lodge. - -As Fortune had it,--Fortune altogether unfavourable to those perils -for which her soul was longing,--no one watched her, no one dogged -her steps, no one took any notice of her, till she met Frank Houston -when he had passed about a hundred yards on through the gates. "And -so you have come," she said. - -"Oh, yes; I have come. I was sure to come when I said so. No man -is more punctual than I am in these matters. I should have come -before,--only I did not get your letter." - -"Oh, Frank!" - -"Well, my darling. You are looking uncommonly well, and I am so glad -to see you. How are they all?" - -"Frank!" - -"What is it?" - -"Oh, Frank, what are we to do?" - -"The governor will give way at last, I should say." - -"Never;--that is while we are as we are now. If we were married--" - -"Ah,--I wish we were! Wouldn't it be nice?" - -"Do you really think so?" - -"Of course I do. I'm ready to-morrow for the matter of that." - -"But could you do something great?" - -"Something great! As to earning my bread, you mean? I do not think I -could do that. I didn't turn my hand to it early enough." - -"I wasn't thinking of--your bread." - -"You said,--could I do something great?" - -"Frank, I wrote you a letter and described it all. How I got the -courage to do it I do not know. I feel as though I could not bring -myself to say it now. I wonder whether you would have the courage." - -"I should say so. I don't know quite what sort of thing it is; but I -generally have pluck enough for anything in a common way." - -"This is something in an uncommon way." - -"I couldn't break open Travers and Treason, and get at the safe, or -anything in that way." - -"It is another sort of safe of which you must break the lock, Frank; -another treasure you must steal. Do you not understand me?" - -"Not in the least." - -"There is Tom," said Gertrude. "He is always wandering about the -place now like a ghost. Let us go back to the gate." Then Frank -turned. "You heard, I suppose, of that dreadful affair about the -policeman." - -"There was a row, I was told." - -"Did you feel that the family were disgraced?" - -"Not in the least. He had to pay five shillings,--hadn't he,--for -telling a policeman to go about his business?" - -"He was--locked up," said Gertrude, solemnly. - -"It's just the same. Nobody thinks anything about that kind of thing. -Now, what is it I have got to do? We had better turn back again as -soon as we can, because I must go up to the house before I go." - -"You will?" - -"Certainly. I will not leave it to your father to say that I came -skulking about the place, and was ashamed to show my face. That would -not be the way to make him give you your money." - -"I am sure he'd give it,--if we were once married." - -"If we were married without having it assured before hand we should -look very blue if things went wrong afterwards." - -"I asked you whether you had courage." - -"Courage enough, I think, when my body is concerned; but I am an -awful coward in regard to money. I wouldn't mind hashed mutton and -baked potatoes for myself, but I shouldn't like to see you eating -them, dearest, after all the luxuries to which you have been -accustomed." - -"I should think nothing of it." - -"Did you ever try? I never came absolutely to hashed mutton, but I've -known how very uncomfortable it is not to be able to pay for the hot -joints. I'm willing to own honestly that married life without an -income would not have attractions for me." - -"But if it was sure to come?" - -"Ah, then indeed,--with you! I have just said how nice it would be." - -"Have you ever been at Ostend?" she asked, suddenly. - -"Ostend. Oh, yes. There was a man there who used to cheat horribly at -ecarte. He did me out of nearly a hundred pounds one night." - -"But there's a clergyman there, I'm told." - -"I don't think this man was in orders. But he might have been. -Parsons come out in so many shapes! This man called himself a count. -It was seven years ago." - -"I am speaking of to-day." - -"I've not been there since." - -"Would you like to go there,--with me?" - -"It isn't a nice sort of place, I should say, for a honeymoon. But -you shall choose. When we are married you shall go where you like." - -"To be married!" she exclaimed. - -"Married at Ostend! Would your mother like that?" - -"Mother! Oh, dear!" - -"I'll be shot if I know what you're after, Gertrude. If you've got -anything to say you'd better speak out. I want to go up to the house -now." - -They had now taken one or two turns between the lodge and a point in -the road from which the house could be observed, and at which Tom -could still be seen wandering about, thinking no doubt of Ayala. Here -Frank stopped as though determined not to turn to the lodge again. It -was wonderful to Gertrude that he should not have understood what she -had already said. When he talked of her mother going with them to the -Ostend marriage she was almost beside herself. This lover of hers was -a man of the world and must have heard of elopements. But now had -come a time in which she must be plain, unless she made up her mind -to abandon her plan altogether. "Frank," she said, "if you were to -run away with me, then we could be married at Ostend." - -"Run away with you!" - -"It wouldn't be the first time that such a thing has been done." - -"The commonest thing in the world, my dear, when a girl has got her -money in her own hands. Nothing I should like so much." - -"Money! It's always money. It's nothing but the money, I believe." - -"That's unkind, Gertrude." - -"Ain't you unkind? You won't do anything I ask." - -"My darling, that hashed mutton and those baked potatoes are too -clear before my eyes." - -"You think of nothing, I believe, but your dinner." - -"I think, unfortunately, of a great many other things. Hashed mutton -is simply symbolical. Under the head of hashed mutton I include poor -lodgings, growlers when we get ourselves asked to eat a dinner at -somebody's table, limited washing-bills, table-napkins rolled up in -their dirt every day for a week, antimacassars to save the backs of -the chairs, a picture of you darning my socks while I am reading -a newspaper hired at a halfpenny from the public-house round the -corner, a pint of beer in the pewter between us,--and perhaps two -babies in one cradle because we can't afford to buy a second." - -"Don't, Sir." - -"In such an emergency I am bound to give you the advantage both of my -experience and imagination." - -"Experience!" - -"Not about the cradles! That is imagination. My darling, it won't do. -You and I have not been brought up to make ourselves happy on a very -limited income." - -"Papa would be sure to give us the money," she said, eagerly. - -"In such a matter as this, where your happiness is concerned, my -dear, I will trust no one." - -"My happiness!" - -"Yes, my dear, your happiness! I am quite willing to own the truth. I -am not fitted to make you happy, if I were put upon the hashed mutton -regime as I have described to you. I will not run the risk,--for your -sake." - -"For your own, you mean," she said. - -"Nor for my own, if you wish me to add that also." - -Then they walked up towards the house for some little way in silence. -"What is it you intend, then?" she asked. - -"I will ask your father once again." - -"He will simply turn you out of the house," she said. Upon this -he shrugged his shoulders, and they walked on to the hall-door in -silence. - -Sir Thomas was not at Merle Park, nor was he expected home that -evening. Frank Houston could only therefore ask for Lady Tringle, -and her he saw together with Mr. and Mrs. Traffick. In presence of -them all nothing could be said of love affairs; and, after sitting -for half-an-hour, during which he was not entertained with much -cordiality, he took his leave, saying that he would do himself the -honour of calling on Sir Thomas in the City. While he was in the -drawing-room Gertrude did not appear. She had retired to her room, -and was there resolving that Frank Houston was not such a lover as -would justify a girl in breaking her heart for him. - -And Frank as he went to town brought his mind to the same way of -thinking. The girl wanted something romantic to be done, and he was -not disposed to do anything romantic for her. He was not in the least -angry with her, acknowledging to himself that she had quite as much a -right to her way of looking at things as he had to his. But he felt -almost sure that the Tringle alliance must be regarded as impossible. -If so, should he look out for another heiress, or endeavour to -enjoy life, stretching out his little income as far as might be -possible;--or should he assume altogether a new character, make a -hero of himself, and ask Imogene Docimer to share with him a little -cottage, in whatever might be the cheapest spot to be found in the -civilised parts of Europe? If it was to be hashed mutton and a united -cradle, he would prefer Imogene Docimer to Gertrude Tringle for his -companion. - -But there was still open to him the one further chance with Sir -Thomas; and this chance he could try with the comfortable feeling -that he might be almost indifferent as to what Sir Thomas might say. -To be prepared for either lot is very self-assuring when any matter -of difficulty has to be taken in hand. On arriving at the house in -Lombard Street he soon found himself ushered once more into Sir -Thomas's presence. "Well, Mr. Houston, what can I do for you to-day?" -asked the man of business, with a pleasant smile. - -"It is the old story, Sir Thomas." - -"Don't you think, Mr. Houston, that there is something,--a -little,--unmanly shall I call it, in coming so often about the same -thing?" - -"No, Sir Thomas, I do not. I think my conduct has been manly -throughout." - -"Weak, perhaps, would have been a better word. I do not wish to be -uncourteous, and I will therefore withdraw unmanly. Is it not weak to -encounter so many refusals on the same subject?" - -"I should feel myself to have been very strong if after so many -refusals I were to be successful at last." - -"There is not the least chance of it." - -"Why should there be no chance if your daughter's happiness depends -upon it?" - -"There is no chance, because I do not believe that my daughter's -happiness does depend upon it. She is foolish, and has made a foolish -proposition to you." - -"What proposition?" asked Houston, in surprise, having heard nothing -of that intercepted letter. - -"That journey to Ostend, with the prospect of finding a good-natured -clergyman in the town! I hardly think you would be fool enough for -that." - -"No, Sir Thomas, I should not do that. I should think it wrong." This -he said quite gravely, asking no questions; but was very much at a -loss to know where Sir Thomas had got his information. - -"I am sure you would think it foolish: and it would be foolish. I -pledge you my word, that were you to do such a thing I should not -give you a shilling. I should not let my girl starve; but I should -save her from suffering in such a manner as to let you have no share -of the sustenance I provided for her." - -"There is no question of that kind," said Frank, angrily. - -"I hope not;--only as I know that the suggestion has been made I -have thought it well to tell you what would be my conduct if it were -carried out." - -"It will not be carried out by me," said Frank. - -"Very well; I am glad to hear it. To tell the truth, I never thought -that you would run the risk. A gentleman of your sort, when he -is looking for a wife with money, likes to have the money quite -certain." - -"No doubt," said Frank, determined not to be browbeaten. - -"And now, Mr. Houston, let me say one word more to you and then we -may part, as I hope, good friends. I do not mean my daughter Gertrude -to marry any man such as you are;--by that I mean an idle gentleman -without means. Should she do so in my teeth she would have to bear -the punishment of sharing that poor gentleman's idleness and poverty. -While I lived she would not be allowed absolutely to want, and when I -died there would be some trifle for her, sufficient to keep the wolf -from the door. But I give you my solemn word and honour that she -shall never be the means of supplying wealth and luxury to such a -husband as you would be. I have better purposes for my hard-earned -money. Now, good-day." With that he rose from his chair and put out -his hand. Frank rose also from his chair, took the hand that was -offered him, and stepped out of Travers and Treason into Lombard -Street, with no special desire to shake the dust off his feet as he -did so. He felt that Sir Thomas had been reasonable,--and he felt -also that Gertrude Tringle would perhaps have been dear at the money. - -Two or three days afterwards he despatched the following little note -to poor Gertrude at Merle Park;-- - - - DEAR GERTRUDE, - - I have seen your father again, and found him to be - absolutely obdurate. I am sure he is quite in earnest - when he tells me that he will not give his daughter to an - impoverished idle fellow such as I am. Who shall say that - he is wrong? I did not dare to tell him so, anxious as I - was that he should change his purpose. - - I feel myself bound in honour, believing, as I do, that he - is quite resolved in his purpose, to release you from your - promise. I should feel that I was only doing you an injury - were I to ask you to be bound by an engagement which could - not, at any rate for many years, be brought to a happy - termination. - - As we may part as sincere friends I hope you will consent - to keep the little token of my regard which I gave you. - - FRANK HOUSTON. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -FRANK HOUSTON IS PENITENT. - - -"And now the Adriatic's free to wed another," said Houston to -himself, as he put himself into a cab, and had himself carried to -his club. There he wrote that valedictory letter to Gertrude which -is given at the end of the last chapter. Had he reason to complain -of his fate, or to rejoice? He had looked the question of an -establishment full in the face,--an establishment to be created by -Sir Thomas Tringle's money, to be shared with Sir Thomas Tringle's -daughter, and had made up his mind to accept it, although the -prospects were not, as he told himself, "altogether rosy." When he -first made up his mind to marry Gertrude,--on condition that Gertrude -should bring with her, at any rate, not less than three thousand -a-year,--he was quite aware that he would have to give up all his -old ways of life, and all his little pleasures. He would become -son-in-law to Sir Thomas Tringle, with a comfortable house to live -in; with plenty to eat and drink, and, probably, a horse or two to -ride. If he could manage things at their best, perhaps he might be -able to settle himself at Pau, or some other place of the kind, so as -to be as far away as possible from Tringle influences. But his little -dinners at one club, his little rubbers of whist at the other club, -his evenings at the opera, the pleasant smiles of the ladies, whom he -loved in a general way,--these would be done with for ever! Earn his -own bread! Why, he was going to earn his bread, and that in a most -disagreeable manner. He would set up an establishment, not because -such an establishment would have any charms for him, but because he -was compelled by lack of money to make some change in his present -manner of life. And yet the time had been when he had looked forward -to a marriage as the happiest thing that could befall him. As far as -his nature could love, he had loved Imogene Docimer. There had come a -glimpse upon him of something better than the little dinners and the -little rubbers. There had been a prospect of an income,--not ample, -as would have been that forthcoming from Sir Thomas,--but sufficient -for a sweet and modest home, in which he thought that it would have -sufficed for his happiness to paint a few pictures, and read a few -books, and to love his wife and children. Even as to that there had -been a doubt. There was a regret as to the charms of London life. -But, nevertheless, he had made up his mind,--and she, without any -doubt, had made up hers. Then that wicked uncle had died, and was -found to have expended on his own pursuits the money which was to -have been left to his nephew. Upon that there was an explanation -between Frank and Imogene; and it was agreed that their engagement -should be over, while a doubtful and dangerous friendship was to be -encouraged between them. - -Such was the condition of things when Frank first met Gertrude -Tringle at Rome, now considerably more than twelve months since. -When Gertrude had first received his proposition favourably he had -written to Imogene a letter in that drolling spirit common to him, in -which he declared his purpose;--or rather, not his purpose, but his -untoward fate, should the gods be unkind to him. She had answered him -after the same fashion, saying, that in regard to his future welfare -she hoped that the gods would prove unkind. But had he known how to -read all that her letter expressed between the lines, he would have -perceived that her heart was more strongly moved than his own. Since -that time he had learned the lesson. There had been a letter or two; -and then there had been that walk in the wood on the Italian side of -the Tyrolese Alps. The reader may remember how he was hurried away -in the diligence for Innspruck, because it was considered that his -further sojourn in the same house with Imogene was dangerous. He had -gone, and even as he went had attempted to make a joke of the whole -affair. But it had not been quite a joke to him even then. There -was Imogene's love and Imogene's anger,--and together with these an -aversion towards the poor girl whom he intended to marry,--which -became the stronger the more strongly he was convinced both of -Imogene's love and of her anger. - -Nevertheless, he persevered,--not with the best success, as has -already been told. Now, as he left the house in Lombard Street, and -wrote what was intended to be his last epistle to Gertrude, he was -driven again to think of Miss Docimer. Indeed, he had in his pocket, -as he sat at his club, a little note which he had lately received -from that lady, which, in truth, had disturbed him much when he made -his last futile efforts at Merle Park and in Lombard Street. The -little note was as follows;-- - - - DEAR FRANK, - - One little friendly word in spite of our storm on - the Tyrolese hill-side! If Miss Tringle is to be the - arbiter of your fate;--why, then, let there be an end of - everything between us. I should not care to be called upon - to receive such a Mrs. Frank Houston as a dear friend. - But if Tringle pere should at the last moment prove - hard-hearted, then let me see you again.--Yours, - - I. - - -With this letter in his pocket he had gone down to Merle Park, -determined to put an end to the Tringle affair in one way or -the other. His duty, as he had planned it to himself, would not -be altered by Imogene's letter; but if that duty should become -impracticable, why, then, it would be open to him to consider -whatever Imogene might have to say to him. - -The Docimers were now in London, where it was their custom to live -during six months of the year; but Houston had not been at their -house since he had parted from them in the Tyrol. He had spent but -little of his time in London since the autumn, and, when there, had -not been anxious to see people who had, at any rate, treated him -somewhat roughly. But now it would be necessary that he should -answer Imogene's letter. What should be the nature of such answer he -certainly had not as yet decided, nor could he have decided before -those very convincing assurances of Sir Thomas Tringle. That matter -was at any rate over, and now the "Adriatic might wed another,"--if -the Adriatic thought well to do so. The matter, however, was one -which required a good deal of consideration. He gave to it ten -minutes of intense thought, during which he consumed a cup of coffee -and a cigarette; and then, throwing away the burnt end of the paper, -he hurried into the morning-room, and wrote to the lady as follows;-- - - - DEAR IMOGENE, - - You will not have to press to your bosom as my wife the - second daughter of Sir Thomas Tringle, Bart. The high - honour of that alliance has at last been refused by him in - very plain language. Had she become Mrs. Frank Houston, I - do not doubt but you would have done your duty to your own - cousin. That lot, however, has not been written for me in - the Book of Fates. The father is persistent in looking - upon me as an idle profligate adventurer; and though he - has been kind enough to hint more than once that it might - be possible for me to achieve the young lady, he has - succeeded in convincing me that I never should achieve - anything beyond the barren possession of her beauty. A - wife and family on my present very moderate income would - be burdensome; and, therefore, with infinite regrets, I - have bade adieu to Miss Tringle. - - I have not hitherto been to see either you or your brother - or Mrs. Docimer because I have been altogether unaware - whether you or your brother or Mrs. Docimer would be glad - to see me. As you say yourself, there was a storm on the - Tyrolese hill-side,--in which there was more than one - wind blowing at the same time. I do not find fault with - anybody,--perhaps a storm was needed to clear the air. But - I hate storms. I do not pretend to be a very grand fellow, - but I do endeavour not to be disagreeable. Your brother, - if you remember, was a little hard. But, in truth, I say - this only to account for my apparent incivility. - - And, perhaps, with another object;--to gain a little time - before I plunge into the stern necessity of answering all - that you say in your very comprehensive letter of five - lines. The first four lines I have answered. There will be - no such Mrs. Frank Houston as that suggested. And then, as - to the last line. Of course, you will see me again, and - that very speedily. So it would seem that the whole letter - is answered. - - But yet it is not answered. There is so much in it that - whole sheets would not answer it. A quire of note-paper - stuffed full would hardly contain all that I might find - to say in answer to it,--on one side and the other. Nay, - I might fill as many reams of folio as are required for a - three-volume novel. And then I might call it by one of two - names, "The Doubts of Frank Houston," or "The Constancy of - Imogene Docimer,"--as I should at last bring my story to - one ending or the other. But the novel would contain that - fault which is so prevalent in the novels of the present - day. The hero would be a very namby-mamby sort of a - fellow, whereas the heroine would be too perfect for human - nature. - - The hero would be always repeating to himself a certain - line out of a Latin poet, which, of all lines, is the most - heart-breaking;-- - - The better course I see and know;-- - The worser one is where I go. - - But then in novels the most indifferent hero comes out - right at last. Some god comes out of a theatrical cloud - and leaves the poor devil ten thousand a-year and a title. - He isn't much of a hero when he does go right under such - inducements, but he suffices for the plot, and everything - is rose-coloured. I would be virtuous at a much cheaper - rate;--if only a young man with his family might have - enough to eat and drink. What is your idea of the lowest - income at which a prudent,--say not idiotically-quixotic - hero,--might safely venture to be heroic? - - Now I have written to you a long letter, and think - that I have indicated to you the true state of my - feelings. Whatever may turn up I do not think I shall go - fortune-hunting again. If half-a-million in female hands - were to throw itself at my head, there is no saying - whether I might not yield. But I do not think that I shall - again make inquiry as to the amount of booty supposed - to be within the walls of a city, and then sit down to - besiege the city with regular lines of approach. It is a - disgusting piece of work. I do not say but what I can lie, - and did lie foully on the last siege operation; but I do - not like it. And then to be told that one is unmanly by - the father, and a coward by the young lady, as occurred to - me in this affair, is disheartening. They were both right, - though I repudiated their assertions. This might be borne - as a prelude to success; but, as part of a failure, it is - disgusting. At the present moment I am considering what - economy might effect as to a future bachelor life, and - am meditating to begin with a couple of mutton chops and - half-a-pint of sherry for my dinner to-day. I know I shall - break down and have a woodcock and some champagne. - - I will come to you about three on Sunday. If you can - manage that your brother should go out and make his calls, - and your sister attend divine service in the afternoon, it - would be a comfort. - - Yours always, - - F. HOUSTON. - - -It was a long rambling letter, without a word in it of solid -clearly-expressed meaning; but Imogene, as she read it, understood -very well its real purport. She understood more than its purport, for -she could see by it,--more clearly than the writer did himself,--how -far her influence over the man had been restored, and how far she -might be able to restore it. But was it well that she should regain -her influence? Her influence regained would simply mean a renewed -engagement. No doubt the storm on the hill-side had come from the -violence of true love on her part! No doubt her heart had been -outraged by the idea that he should give himself up to another woman -after all that had passed between them. She had been devoted to him -altogether; but yet she had been taught by him to regard her love as -a passion which of its nature contained something of the ridiculous. -He had never ceased gently to laugh at himself, even in her presence, -because he had subjected himself to her attraction. She had caught -up the same spirit,--or at any rate the expression of spirit,--and, -deceived by that, he had thought that to relieve herself from the -burden of her love would be as easy to her as to him. In making this -mistake he had been ignorant of the intrinsic difference in the -nature of a man's and of a woman's heart, and had been unaware that -that, which to a man at his best can only be a part of his interest -in his life's concerns, will to a woman be everything. She had -attempted to follow his lead when it did not seem that by doing so -she would lose anything. But when the moment of trial came she had -not in truth followed his lead at all. She made the attempt, and in -making the attempt gave him her permission to go from her; but when -she realised the fact that he was gone,--or going,--then she broke -down utterly. Then there came these contentions between her and her -brother, and that storm on the hill-side. - -After that she passed some months of wretchedness. There was no -possibility for her to droll away her love. She had taught herself to -love the man whether he were good or whether he were bad,--whether -he were strong-hearted or whether he were fickle,--and the thing -was there present to her, either as a permanent blessing, or, much -more probably, a permanent curse. As the months went on she learned, -though she never saw Frank himself, that his purpose of marrying -Gertrude Tringle was not likely to be carried out. Then at last she -wrote that comprehensive letter of five lines,--as Houston had called -it. It had been intended to be comprehensive, and did, in fact, -contain much more than it seemed to say. "If you can bring yourself -to return to me, and to endure whatever inconveniences may be -incidental to your doing so, I hereby declare that I will do the -same; and I declare also that I can find for myself no other content -in the world except what may come to me from such an agreement -between us." It was this that she said in that last line, in which -she had begged him to come to her, if at the last moment "Tringle -pere" should prove to be hard-hearted. All troubles of poverty, all -the lingering annoyance of waiting, all her possible doubts as to his -future want of persistency, would be preferable to the great loss -which she found herself unable to endure. - -Yes; it would be very well that both her brother and her -sister-in-law should be absent when he came to her. To neither of -them had she said a word of her last correspondence;--to neither of -them a word of her renewed hopes. For the objections which might be -raised by either of them would she care little if she could succeed -with Frank. But while that success was still doubtful it would be -well to get at any rate the assistance of her sister-in-law. On the -Sunday afternoon Mr. Docimer would certainly be away from the house. -It was his custom to go off among his friends almost immediately -after lunch, and his absence might be counted on as assured. But with -his wife it was different. That project of sending her to church was -quite out of the question. Mrs. Docimer generally went to church of a -Sunday morning, and then always considered herself to have performed -the duties of the day. Nor did Imogene like the idea of this -appointment with her lover without a word spoken about it to her -sister-in-law. "Mary," she said, "Frank Houston is coming here on -Sunday." - -"Frank!" exclaimed Mrs. Docimer. "I thought we were to consider -ourselves as altogether separated from that fortunate youth." - -"I don't see why." - -"Well; he left us not with the kindest possible feelings in the -Tyrol; and he has allowed ever so many months to pass by without -coming to see us. I asked Mudbury whether we should have him to -dinner one day last week, and he said it would be better to let him -go his own way." - -"Nevertheless, he is coming here on Sunday." - -"Has he written to you?" - -"Yes, he has written to me,--in answer to a line from me. I told him -that I wished to see him." - -"Was that wise?" - -"Wise or not, I did so." - -"Why should you wish to see him?" - -"Am I to tell you the truth or a lie?" - -"Not a lie, certainly. I will not ask for the truth if the truth be -unpalatable to you." - -"It is unpalatable;--but yet I might as well tell it you. I wrote to -ask him to come and see me, because I love him so dearly." - -"Oh, Imogene!" - -"It is the truth." - -"Did you tell him so?" - -"No; I told him nothing. I merely said, that, if this match was over -between him and that girl of Sir Thomas Tringle, then he might come -and see me again. That was all that I said. His letter was very much -longer, but yet it did not say much. However, he is to come, and I am -prepared to renew our engagement should he declare that he is willing -to do so." - -"What will Mudbury say?" - -"I do not care very much what he says. I do not know that I am -bound to care. If I have resolved to entangle myself with a long -engagement, and Mr. Houston is willing to do the same, I do not -think that my brother should interfere. I am my own mistress, and am -dealing altogether with my own happiness." - -"Imogene, we have discussed this so often before." - -"Not a doubt; and with such effect that with my permission Frank was -enabled to ask this young woman with a lot of money to marry him. Had -it been arranged, I should have had no right to find fault with him, -however sore of heart I might have been. All that has fallen through, -and I consider myself quite entitled to renew my engagement again. I -shall not ask him, you may be sure of that." - -"It comes to the same thing, Imogene." - -"Very likely. It often happens that ladies mean that to be expressed -which it does not become them to say out loud. So it may be with me -on this occasion. Nevertheless, the word, if it have to be spoken, -will have to be spoken by him. What I want you to do now is to let me -have the drawing-room alone at three o'clock on Sunday. If anything -has to be said it will have to be said without witnesses." - -With some difficulty Mrs. Docimer was induced to accede to the -request, and to promise that, at any rate for the present, nothing -should be said to her husband on the subject. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -CAPTAIN BATSBY. - - -In the meantime, poor Ayala, whose days were running on in a very -melancholy manner under her aunt's wings in Kingsbury Crescent, was -creating further havoc and disturbing the bosom of another lover. At -Stalham she had met a certain Captain Batsby, and had there attracted -his attention. Captain Batsby had begged her to ride with him on one -of those hunting-days, and had offered to give her a lead,--having -been at the moment particularly jealous of Colonel Stubbs. On that -day both Ayala and Nina had achieved great honour;--but this, to the -great satisfaction of Captain Batsby, had not been achieved under the -leadership of Colonel Stubbs. Larry Twentyman, long famous among the -riding-men of the Ufford and Rufford United Hunt, had been the hero -of the hour. Thus Captain Batsby's feelings had been spared, and -after that he had imagined that any kindly feelings which Ayala might -have had for the Colonel had sunk into abeyance. Then he had sought -some opportunity to push himself into Ayala's favour, but hitherto -his success in that direction had not been great. - -Captain Batsby was regarded by the inhabitants of Stalham as a -nuisance,--but as a nuisance which could not be avoided. He was -half-brother to Sir Harry, whose mother had married, as her second -husband, a certain opulent Mr. Batsby out of Lancashire. They were -both dead now, and nothing of them remained but this Captain. He -was good-natured, simple, and rich, and in the arrangement of the -Albury-cum-Batsby affairs, which took place after the death of Mrs. -Batsby, made himself pleasant to everybody concerned. Sir Harry, who -certainly had no particular affection for his half-brother, always -bore with him on this account; and Lady Albury was equally gracious, -mindful of the wisdom of keeping on good terms with a rich relation. -It was as yet quite on the cards that the Batsby money might come to -some of the Albury scions. - -But the Captain was anxious to provide himself with a wife who might -be the mother of scions of his own. In fact he had fallen fearfully -in love with Ayala, and was quite resolved to ask her to be his wife -when he found that she was just on the point of flying from Stalham. -He had intended to be quicker in his operations, but had lacked -opportunity. On that last hunting-day the Colonel had always been -still in his way, and circumstances had never seemed to favour him -when he endeavoured to have a few words in private with the young -lady. Then she was gone, and he could only learn respecting her that -she lived with her aunt, Mrs. Dosett, in Kingsbury Crescent. - -"I'm blessed if Benjamin isn't smitten with that girl!" Benjamin was -Captain Batsby, and that girl was of course Ayala Dormer. The man -who blessed himself was Sir Harry Albury, and the observation was -addressed to his wife. This took place within an hour of Ayala's -departure from Stalham. - -"Benjamin in love with Ayala Dormer! I don't believe a word of it," -said Lady Albury. It was not surprising that she should not believe -it. There was her special favourite, Colonel Stubbs, infatuated -by the same girl; and, as she was aware, Tom Tringle, the heir of -Travers and Treason, was in the same melancholy condition. And, after -all, according to her thinking, there was nothing in the girl to -justify all this fury. In her eyes Ayala was pretty, but no more. She -would have declared that Ayala had neither bearing, nor beauty, nor -figure. A bright eye, a changing colour, and something of vivacity -about her mouth, was all of which Ayala had to boast. Yet here were -certainly the heir of the man of millions, and that Crichton of a -Colonel, both knocked off their legs. And now she was told that -Captain Batsby, who always professed himself hard to please in the -matter of young ladies, was in the same condition. "Do you mean to -say he told you?" she asked. - -"No," said Sir Harry; "he is not at all the man to do that. In such a -matter he is sure to have a great secret, and be sure also to let his -secret escape in every word that he speaks. You will find that what I -say is truth." - -Before the day was out Lady Albury did find her husband to be -correct. Captain Batsby, though he was very jealous of his secret, -acknowledged to himself the necessity of having one confidant. He -could hardly, he thought, follow Ayala without some assistance. He -knew nothing of Mrs. Dosett, nothing of Kingsbury Crescent, and very -little as to Ayala herself. He regarded Lady Albury as his chosen -friend, and generally communicated to her whatever troubles he might -have. These had consisted chiefly of the persecutions to which he had -been subjected by the mothers of portionless young ladies. How not to -get married off against his will had been the difficulty of his life. -His half sister-in-law had hitherto preserved him, and therefore to -her he now went for assistance in this opposite affair. "Rosalind," -he said in his gravest voice, "what do you think I have to tell you?" - -Lady Albury knew what was coming, but of course she hid her -knowledge. "I hope Mrs. Motherly has not written to you again," she -said. Mrs. Motherly was a lady who had been anxious that her daughter -should grace Captain Batsby's table, and had written to him letters, -asking him his intentions. - -"Oh, dear; nothing of that kind. I do not care a straw for Mrs. -Motherly or the girl either. I never said a word to her that any one -could make a handle of. But I want to say a word to somebody now." - -"What sort of word is it to be, Ben?" - -"Ah," he groaned. "Rosalind, you must understand that I never was so -much in earnest in my life!" - -"You are always in earnest." - -Then he sighed very deeply. "I shall expect you to help me through -this matter, Rosalind." - -"Do I not always help you?" - -"Yes; you do. But you must stick to me now like wax. What do you -think of that young lady, Miss Dormer?" - -"I think she is a pretty girl; and the gentlemen tell me that she -rides bravely." - -"Don't you consider her divine?" he asked. - -"My dear Ben, one lady never considers another to be divine. Among -ourselves we are terribly human, if not worse. Do you mean to tell me -that you are in love with Ayala Dormer?" - -"You have guessed it," said he. "You always do guess everything." - -"I generally do guess as much as that, when young gentlemen find -young ladies divine. Do you know anything about Miss Dormer?" - -"Nothing but her beauty;--nothing but her wit;--nothing but her -grace! I know all that, and I don't seem to want to know any more." - -"Then you must be in love! In the first place she hasn't got a -sixpence in the world." - -"I don't want sixpences," said the Captain, proudly. - -"And in the next place I am not at all sure that you would like her -people. Father and mother she has none." - -"Then I cannot dislike them." - -"But she has uncles and aunts, who are, I am afraid, objectionable. -She lives with a Mr. Dosett, who is a clerk in Somerset House,--a -respectable man, no doubt, but one whom you would not perhaps want at -your house very often." - -"I don't care about uncles and aunts," said Captain Batsby. "Uncles -and aunts can always be dropped much easier than fathers and mothers. -At any rate I am determined to go on, and I want you to put me in the -way. How must I find her?" - -"Go to No. 10, Kingsbury Crescent, Bayswater. Ask for Mrs. Dosett and -tell her what you've come about. When she knows that you are well -off she will not turn a deaf ear to you. What the girl may do it is -beyond me to say. She is very peculiar." - -"Peculiar?" said the Captain with another sigh. - -Lady Albury did, in truth, think Ayala was very peculiar, seeing that -she had refused two such men as Tom Tringle in spite of his wealth, -and Colonel Stubbs in spite of his position. This she had done though -she had no prospects of her own before her, and no comfortable home -at the present. Might it not be more than probable that she would -also refuse Captain Batsby, who was less rich than the one and -certainly less known to the world than the other? But as to this it -was not necessary that she should say anything. To assist Colonel -Stubbs she was bound by true affection for the man. In regard to her -husband's half-brother she was only bound to seem to assist him. "I -can write a line to Mrs. Dosett, if you wish it," she said, "or to -Miss Dormer." - -"I wish you would. It would be best to the aunt, and just tell her -that I am fairly well off. She'll tell Ayala I could make quite a -proper settlement on her. That kind of thing does go a long way with -young ladies." - -"It ought to do at any rate," said Lady Albury. "It certainly does -with the old ladies." Then the matter was settled. She was to write -to Mrs. Dosett and inform that lady that Captain Batsby intended to -call in Kingsbury Crescent in the form of a suitor for Miss Ayala -Dormer's hand. She would go on to explain that Captain Batsby was -quite in a position to marry and maintain a wife. - -"And if she should accept me you'll have her down here, Rosalind?" -Here was a difficulty, as it was already understood that Ayala was to -be again brought down to Stalham on the Colonel's account; but Lady -Albury could make the promise, as, should the Captain be accepted, -no harm would in that case be done to the Colonel. She was, however, -tolerably sure that the Captain would not be accepted. "And, if she -shouldn't take me all at once, still you might have her," suggested -the lover. As to this, which was so probable, there would be a great -difficulty. Ayala was to be seduced into coming again to Stalham if -possible,--but specially on the Colonel's behoof. In such a case it -must be done behind the Captain's back. Lady Albury saw the troubles -which were coming, but nevertheless she promised that she would see -what could be done. All this having been settled, Captain Batsby took -his leave and went off to London. - -Mrs. Dosett, when she received Lady Albury's letter, was very much -surprised. She too failed to understand what there was in Ayala to -produce such a multiplicity of suitors, one after another. When -Lucy came to her and had begun to be objectionable, she had thought -that she might some day be relieved from her troubles by the girl's -marriage. Lucy, to her eyes, was beautiful, and mistress of a manner -likely to be winning in a man's eyes, though ungracious to herself. -But in regard to Ayala she had expressed nothing of the kind. Ayala -was little, and flighty, and like an elf,--as she had remarked to her -husband. But now, within twelve months, three lovers had appeared, -and each of them suitable for matrimonial purposes. She could only -tell her husband, and then tell Ayala. - -"Captain Batsby! I don't believe it!" said Ayala, almost crying. If -Colonel Stubbs could not be made to assume the garb of an Angel of -Light what was she to think of Captain Batsby? - -"You can read Lady Albury's letter." - -"I don't want to read Lady Albury's letter. I won't see him. I don't -care what my uncle says. I don't care what anybody says. Yes, I do -know him. I remember him very well. I spoke to him once or twice, and -I did not like him at all." - -"You said the same of Colonel Stubbs." - -"I didn't say the same of Colonel Stubbs. He is a great deal worse -than Colonel Stubbs." - -"And you said just the same of Tom." - -"He is the same as Tom;--just as bad. It is no good going on about -him, Aunt Margaret. I won't see him. If I were locked up in a room -with him I wouldn't speak a word to him. He has no right to come." - -"A gentleman, my dear, has always a right to ask a lady to be his -wife if he has got means." - -"You always say so, Aunt Margaret, but I don't believe it. There -should be,--there should have been,--I don't know what; but I am -quite sure the man has no right to come to me, and I won't see him." -To this resolution Ayala clung, and, as she was very firm about it, -Mrs. Dosett, after consultation with her husband, at last gave way, -and consented to see Captain Batsby herself. - -In due time Captain Batsby came. At any knock heard at the door -during this period Ayala flew out of the drawing-room into her own -chamber; and at the Captain's knock she flew with double haste, -feeling sure that this was the special knock. The man was shown -up, and in a set speech declared his purpose to Mrs. Dosett, and -expressed a hope that Lady Albury might have written on the subject. -Might he be allowed to see the young lady? - -"I fear that it would be of no service, Captain Batsby." - -"Of no service?" - -"On receiving Lady Albury's letter I was of course obliged to tell my -niece the honour you proposed to do her." - -"I am quite in earnest, you know," said the Captain. - -"So I suppose, as Lady Albury would not have written, nor would you -have come on such a mission. But so is my niece in earnest." - -"She will, at any rate, hear what I have got to say." - -"She would rather not," said Mrs. Dosett. "She thinks that it would -only be painful to both of you. As she has quite made up her mind -that she cannot accept the honour you propose to do her, what good -would it serve?" - -"Is Miss Dormer at home?" asked the Captain, suddenly. Mrs. Dosett -hesitated for a while, anxious to tell a lie on the matter, but -fearing to do so. "I suppose she is at home," continued the urgent -lover. - -"Miss Dormer is at present in her own chamber." - -"Then I think I ought to see her," continued the Captain. "She can't -know at present what is my income." - -"Lady Albury has told us that it is sufficient." - -"But that means nothing. Your niece cannot be aware that I have a -very pretty little place of my own down in Berkshire." - -"I don't think it would make a difference," said Mrs. Dosett. - -"Or that I shall be willing to settle upon her a third of my income. -It is not many gentlemen who will do as much as that for a young -lady, when the young lady has nothing of her own." - -"I am sure you are very generous." - -"Yes, I am. I always was generous. And I have no impediments to get -rid of; not a trouble of that kind in all the world. And I don't owe -a shilling. Very few young men, who have lived as much in the world -as I have, can say that." - -"I am sure your position is all that is desirable." - -"That's just it. No position could be more desirable. I should -give up the service immediately as soon as I was married." At that -Mrs. Dosett bowed, not knowing what words to find for further -conversation. "After that," continued the Captain, "do you mean to -say that I am not to be allowed to see the young lady?" - -"I cannot force her to come down, Captain Batsby." - -"I would if I were you." - -"Force a young lady?" - -"Something ought to be done," said he, beginning almost to whine. -"I have come here on purpose to see her, and I am quite prepared to -do what is handsome. My half-sister, Lady Albury, had her down at -Stalham, and is quite anxious to have her there again. I suppose you -have no objection to make to me, Mrs. Dosett?" - -"Oh, dear no." - -"Or Mr. Dosett?" - -"I do not say that he has, Captain Batsby; but this is a matter in -which a young lady's word must be paramount. We cannot force her to -marry you, or even to speak to you." The Captain still went on with -entreaties, till Mrs. Dosett found herself so far compelled to accede -to him as to go up to Ayala's room and beg her to come down and -answer this third suitor with her own voice. But Ayala was immovable. -When her aunt came near her she took hold of the bed as though -fearing an attempt would be made to drag her out of the room. She -again declared that if she were forced into the room below nothing -could oblige her to speak even a word. - -"As for thanking him," she said, "you can do that yourself, Aunt -Margaret, if you like. I am not a bit obliged to him; but, if you -choose to say so, you may; only pray do tell him to go away,--and -tell him never, never to come back any more." Then Mrs. Dosett -returned to the drawing-room, and declared that her embassy had been -quite in vain. - -"In all my life," said Captain Batsby, as he took his leave, "I never -heard of such conduct before." Nevertheless, as he went away he made -up his mind that Lady Albury should get Ayala again down to Stalham. -He was very angry, but his love remained as hot as ever. - -"As I did not succeed in seeing her," he said, in a letter to his -half-sister, "of course I do not know what she might have said to -me herself. I might probably have induced her to give me another -hearing. I put it all down to that abominable aunt, who probably has -some scheme of her own, and would not let Miss Dormer come down to -me. If you will have her again at Stalham, everything may be made to -go right." - - - * * * * * * - - -At home, in Kingsbury Crescent, when Ayala had gone to bed, both -Mr. and Mrs. Dosett expressed themselves as much troubled by the -peculiarity of Ayala's nature. Mrs. Dosett declared her conviction -that that promised legacy from Uncle Tom would never be forthcoming, -because he had been so much offended by the rejection of his own son. -And even should the legacy remain written in Sir Thomas's will, where -would Ayala find a home if Mr. Dosett were to die before the baronet? -This rejection of suitors,--of fit, well-to-do, unobjectionable -suitors,--was held by Mrs. Dosett to be very wicked, and a direct -flying in the face of Providence. "Does she think," said Mrs. Dosett, -urging the matter with all her eloquence to her husband, "that young -men with incomes are to be coming after her always like this?" Mr. -Dosett shook his head and scratched it at the same time, which was -always a sign with him that he was not at all convinced by the -arguments used, but that he did not wish to incur further hostility -by answering them. "Why shouldn't she see an eligible man when he -comes recommended like this?" - -"I suppose, my dear, she didn't think him nice enough." - -"Nice! pshaw! I call it a direct flying in the face of Providence. If -he were ever so nasty and twice as old she ought to think twice about -it in her position. There is poor Tom, they say, absolutely ill. The -housekeeper was over here from Queen's Gate the other day, and she -declares that that affair about the policeman all came from his being -in love. And now he has left the business and has gone to Merle Park, -because he is so knocked in a heap that he cannot hold up his head." - -"I don't see why love should make a man punch a policeman's breath -out of him," said Mr. Dosett. - -"Of course Tom was foolish; but he would do very well if she would -have him. Of course your sister, and Sir Thomas, and all of them, -will be very furious. What right will she have to expect money after -that?" - -"Tom is an ass," said Mr. Dosett. - -"I suppose Colonel Stubbs is an ass too. What I want to know is what -it is she looks for. Like any other girl, she expects to get married -some day, I suppose; but she has been reading poetry, and novels, and -trash, till she has got her head so full of nonsense that she doesn't -know what it is she does want. I should like to shake her till I -shook all the romance out of her. If there is anything I do hate it -is romance, while bread and meat, and coals, and washing, are so -dear." With this Mrs. Dosett took herself and her troubles up to her -bedroom. - -Mr. Dosett sat for a while gazing with speculative eyes at the embers -of the fire. He was conscious in his heart that some part of that -attack upon romance in general was intended for himself. Though he -did not look to be romantic, especially when seated at his desk in -Somerset House, with his big index-book before him, still there was -left about him some touch of poetry, and an appreciation of the finer -feelings of our nature. Though he could have wished that Ayala should -have been able to take one of these three well-to-do suitors, who -were so anxious to obtain her hand, still he could not bring himself -not to respect her, still he was unable not to love her, because she -was steadfastly averse to accept as a husband a man for whom she had -no affection. As he looked at the embers he asked himself how it -ought to be. Here was a girl whose only gift in life was her own -personal charm. That that charm must be powerful was evident from the -fact that she could so attract such men as these. Of the good things -of the world, of a pleasant home, of ample means, and of all that -absence of care which comes from money, poor Mr. Dosett had by no -means a poor appreciation. That men are justified in seeking these -good things by their energy, industry, and talents, he was quite -confident. How was it with a girl who had nothing else but her -beauty,--or, perhaps, her wit,--in lieu of energy and industry? Was -she justified in carrying her wares also into the market, and making -the most of them? The embers had burned so low, and he had become so -cold before he had settled the question in his own mind, that he was -obliged to go up to bed, leaving it unsettled. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -AUNT EMMELINE'S NEW PROPOSITION. - - -A few days after this, just as the bread and cheese had been put on -the table for the modest mid-day meal at Kingsbury Crescent, there -came a most unwonted honour on Mrs. Dosett. It was a call from no -less a person than Lady Tringle herself, who had come all the way up -from Merle Park on purpose. It was a Saturday. She had travelled by -herself and intended to go back on the same day with her husband. -This was an amount of trouble which she very seldom gave herself, -not often making a journey to London during the periods of her rural -sojourn; and, when she began by assuring her sister-in-law that she -made the journey with no object but that of coming to Kingsbury -Crescent, Mrs. Dosett was aware that something very important was -to be communicated. Mrs. Dosett and Ayala were together in the -dining-room when Lady Tringle appeared, and the embracings were very -affectionate. They were particularly affectionate towards Ayala, who -was kissed as though nothing had ever happened to interfere with -the perfect love existing between the aunt and the niece. They were -more than friendly, almost sisterly, towards Mrs. Dosett, whom in -truth Lady Tringle met hardly more than once in a year. It was very -manifest that Aunt Emmeline wanted to have something done. "Now, my -darling," she said, turning to Ayala, "if you would not mind going -away for ten minutes, I could say a few words on very particular -business to your aunt." Then she gave her niece a tender little -squeeze and assumed her sweetest smile. - -It will be as well to go back a little and tell the cause which had -produced this unexpected visit. There had been very much of real -trouble at Merle Park. Everything was troublesome. Gertrude had -received her final letter from her lover, had declared herself to be -broken-hearted, and was evincing her sorrow by lying in bed half the -day, abstaining from her meals, and relieving herself from famine by -sly visits to the larder. It was supposed that her object was to bend -the stony heart of her father, but the process added an additional -trouble to her mother. Then the Trafficks were a sore vexation. It -was now nearly the end of January and they were still at Merle Park. -There had been a scene in which Sir Thomas had been very harsh. "My -dear," he had said to his wife, "I find that something must be done -to the chimney of the north room. The workmen must be in it by the -first of February. See and have all the furniture taken out before -they come." Now the north room was the chamber in which the Trafficks -slept, and the Trafficks were present when the order was given. -No one believed the story of the chimney. This was the mode of -expulsion which Sir Thomas had chosen on the spur of the moment. Mr. -Traffick said not a word, but in the course of the morning Augusta -expostulated with her mother. This was also disagreeable. Then the -condition of Tom was truly pitiable. All his trust in champagne, all -his bellicose humour, had deserted him. He moped about the place the -most miserable of human beings, spending hour after hour in imploring -his mother's assistance. But Lucy with her quiet determination, and -mute persistency in waiting, was a source of almost greater annoyance -to her aunt than even her own children. That Lucy should in any -degree have had her way with Mr. Hamel, had gone against the grain -with her. Mr. Hamel, to her thinking, was a person to be connected -with whom would be a disgrace. She was always speaking of his birth, -of his father's life, and of those Roman iniquities. She had given -way for a time when she had understood that her husband intended to -give the young people money enough to enable them to marry. In that -case Lucy would at once be taken away from the house. But now all -that had come to an end. Sir Thomas had given no money, and had even -refused to give any money. Nevertheless he was peacefully indulgent -to Lucy, and was always scolding his wife because she was hostile to -Lucy's lover. - -In this emergency she induced him to accede to a proposition, by -which one of her miseries would be brought to an end and another -might perhaps be remedied. A second exchange should be made. Lucy -should be sent back to Kingsbury Crescent, and Ayala should once more -be brought into favour at Merle Park, Queen's Gate, and Glenbogie. -"Your brother will never put up with it," said Sir Thomas. Lady -Tringle was not afraid of her brother, and thought that by soft words -she might even talk over her sister-in-law. Ayala, she knew, had been -troublesome in Kingsbury Crescent. She was sure, she said, Ayala's -whims would of their nature be more troublesome to such a woman as -Mrs. Dosett than Lucy's obstinacy. Ayala had no doubt been pert and -disobedient at Glenbogie and at Rome, but there had been an unbending -obduracy about Lucy which had been more distasteful to Aunt Emmeline -than even Ayala's pert disobedience. "It will be the only way," she -had said to Sir Thomas, "to put Tom on his legs again. If the girl -comes back here she will be sure to have him at last." There was -much in this which to Sir Thomas was weak and absurd. That prolonged -journey round by San Francisco, Japan, and Pekin, was the remedy -which recommended itself to him. But he was less able to despatch -Tom at once to Japan than the elder Faddle had been to send off the -younger Faddle to the stern realities of life in Aberdeen. He was -quite willing that Tom should marry Ayala if it could be arranged, -and therefore he gave his consent. - -So armed, Lady Tringle had come up to Kingsbury Crescent, and was -now about to undertake a task, which she acknowledged to herself to -be difficult. She, in the first place, had had her choice and had -selected a niece. Then she had quarrelled with her own selection, and -had changed nieces. This had been done to accommodate her own fancy; -and now she wanted to change the nieces back again! She felt aware -that her request was unreasonable, and came, therefore, determined to -wrap it up in her blandest smiles. - -When Ayala had left the room Mrs. Dosett sat mute in attention. She -was quite aware that something very much out of the ordinary way was -to be asked of her. In her ordinary way Lady Tringle never did smile -when she came to Kingsbury Crescent. She would be profuse in finery, -and would seem to throw off sparks of wealth at every word she spoke. -Now even her dress had been toned down to her humbler manner, and -there was no touch of her husband's purse in her gait. "Margaret," -she said, "I have a proposition of great importance to make to you." -Mrs. Dosett opened her eyes wider and sat still mute. "That poor girl -is not,--is not,--is not doing perhaps the very best for herself here -at Kingsbury Crescent." - -"Why is she not doing the best for herself?" asked Mrs. Dosett, -angrily. - -"Do not for a moment suppose that I am finding fault either with you -or my brother." - -"You'd be very wrong if you did." - -"No doubt;--but I am not finding fault. I know how very generous you -have both been. Of course Sir Thomas is a rich man, and what he gives -to one of the girls comes to nothing. Of course it is different with -you. It is hard upon my brother to have any such burden put upon him; -and it is very good both in him and you to bear it." - -"What is it you want us to do now, Emmeline?" - -"Well;--I was going to explain. I do think it a great pity that Tom -and Ayala should not become man and wife. If ever any young man ever -did love a girl I believe that he loves her." - -"I think he does." - -"It is dreadful. I never saw anything like it. He is just for all the -world like those young men we read of who do all manner of horrible -things for love,--smothering themselves and their young women with -charcoal, or throwing them into the Regent's Canal. I am constantly -afraid of something happening. It was all because of Ayala that he -got into that terrible row at the police court,--and then we were -afraid he was going to take to drink. He has given all that up now." - -"I am very glad he has given drink up. That wouldn't do him any -good." - -"He is quite different now. The poor fellow hardly takes anything. He -will sit all the afternoon smoking cigarettes and sipping tea. It is -quite sad to see him. Then he comes and talks to me, and is always -asking me to make Ayala have him." - -"I don't think that anybody can ever make Ayala do anything." - -"Not quite by talking to her. I dare say not. I did not mean to say a -word to her about it just now." - -"We can do nothing, I fear," said Mrs. Dosett. - -"I was going to suggest something. But I wanted first to say a word -or two about poor Lucy." They were just at present all "poor" to -Lady Tringle,--Ayala, Lucy, Tom, and Gertrude. Even Augusta was poor -because she was to be turned out of her bedroom. - -"Is she in trouble?" - -"Oh, dear, yes. But," she added, thinking well to correct herself, -so that Mrs. Dosett might not imagine that she would have to look -forward to troubles with Lucy, "she could arrange her affairs, no -doubt, if she were not with us. She is engaged to that Mr. Isadore -Hamel, the sculptor." - -"So I have heard." - -"He does not earn very much just at present, I fear. Sir Thomas did -offer to help him, but he was perhaps a little hoity-toity, giving -himself airs. That, however, did not come off, and there they are, -waiting. I don't mean to say a word against poor Lucy. I think it a -pity, you know; but perhaps it was natural enough. He isn't what I -should have liked for a niece who was living with me just as though -she was my daughter; but I couldn't help that." - -"But what are we to do, Emmeline?" - -"Let them just change places again." - -"Change again! Ayala go to you and Lucy come back here!" - -"Just that. If Ayala were with us she would be sure to get used to -Tom at last. And then Lucy could manage her affairs with Mr. Hamel so -much better if she were with you." - -"Why should she manage her affairs better if she were with us?" - -Lady Tringle was aware that this was the weak part of her case. On -the poor Ayala and poor Tom side of the question there was a good -deal which might be said. Then, though she might not convince, she -might be eloquent. But, touching Lucy, she could say nothing which -did not simply signify that she wanted to get rid of the girl. Now, -Mrs. Dosett had also wanted to get rid of Lucy when the former -exchange had been made. "What I mean is, that, if she were away, Sir -Thomas would be more likely to do something for her." This was an -invention at the spur of the moment. - -"Do you not feel that the girls should not be chucked about like -balls from a battledore?" asked Mrs. Dosett. - -"For their own good, Margaret. I only propose it for their own good. -You can't but think it would be a good thing for Ayala to be married -to our Tom." - -"If she liked him." - -"Why shouldn't she like him? You know what that means. Poor Ayala is -young, and a little romantic. She would be a great deal happier if -all that could be knocked out of her. She has to marry somebody, and -the sooner she settles down the better. Sir Thomas will do anything -for them;--a horse and carriage, and anything she could set her heart -upon! There is nothing Sir Thomas would not do for Tom so as to get -him put upon his legs again." - -"I don't think Ayala would go." - -"She must, you know," whispered Lady Tringle, "if we both tell her." - -"And Lucy?" - -"She must too," again whispered Lady Tringle. "If they are told they -are to go, what else can they do? Why shouldn't Ayala wish to come?" - -"There were quarrels before." - -"Yes;--because of Augusta. Augusta is married now." Lady Tringle -could not quite say that Augusta was gone. - -"Will you speak to Ayala?" - -"Perhaps it would come better from you, Margaret, if you agree with -me." - -"I am not sure that I do. I am quite sure that your brother would not -force her to go, whether she wished it or not. No doubt we should be -glad if the marriage could be arranged. But we cannot force a girl to -marry, and her aversion in this case is so strong--" - -"Aversion!" - -"Aversion to being married, I mean. It is so strong that I do not -think she will go of her own accord to any house where she is likely -to meet her cousin. I dare say she may be a fool. I say nothing about -that. Of course, she shall be asked; and, if she wishes to go, then -Lucy can be asked too. But of course it must all depend upon what -your brother says." - -Then Lady Tringle took her leave without again seeing Ayala herself, -and as she went declared her intention of calling at Somerset -House. She would not think it right, she said, in a matter of such -importance, to leave London without consulting her brother. It might -be possible, she thought, that she would be able to talk her brother -over; whereas his wife, if she had the first word, might turn him the -other way. - -"Is Aunt Emmeline gone?" asked Ayala, when she came down. "I am glad -she has gone, because I never know how to look when she calls me -dear. I know she hates me." - -"I hope not, Ayala." - -"I am sure she does, because I hated Augusta. I do hate Augusta, and -my aunt hates me. The only one of the lot I like is Uncle Tom." - -Then the proposition was made, Ayala sitting with her mouth wide open -as the details, one after another, were opened out to her. Her aunt -did it with exquisite fairness, abstaining from opening out some -of the details which might be clear enough to Ayala without any -explanation. Her Aunt Emmeline was very anxious to have her back -again,--the only reason for her former expulsion having been the -enmity of Augusta. Her Uncle Tom and her aunt, and, no doubt, -Gertrude, would be very glad to receive her. Not a word was said -about Tom. Then something was urged as to the material comforts of -the Tringle establishments, and of the necessary poverty of Kingsbury -Crescent. - -"And Lucy is to have the poverty?" said Ayala, indignantly. - -"I think it probable, my dear, that before long Lucy will become the -wife of Mr. Hamel." - -"And you want to get rid of me?" demanded Ayala. - -"No, my dear; not so. You must not think that for a moment. The -proposition has not originated with me at all. I am endeavouring to -do my duty by explaining to you the advantages which you would enjoy -by going to your Aunt Emmeline, and which you certainly cannot have -if you remain here. And I must tell you, that, if you return to Sir -Thomas, he will probably provide for you. You know what I mean by -providing for you?" - -"No, I don't," said Ayala, who had in her mind some dim idea that her -cousin Tom was supposed to be a provision. She was quite aware that -her Aunt Margaret, in her explanation as hitherto given, had not -mentioned Tom's name, and was sure that it had not been omitted -without reason. - -"By providing, I mean that if you are living in his house he will -leave you something in his will;--as would be natural that he should -do for a child belonging to him. Your Uncle Reginald"--this she said -in a low and very serious tone--"will, I fear, have nothing to leave -to you." Then there was silence for some minutes, after which Mrs. -Dosett asked the important question, "Well, Ayala, what do you think -about it?" - -"Must I go?" said Ayala. "May I stay?" - -"Yes, my dear; you may certainly stay if you wish it." - -"Then I will stay," said Ayala, jumping up on to her feet. "You do -not want to turn me out, Aunt Margaret?" Then she went down on her -knees, and, leaning on her aunt's lap, looked up into her face. "If -you will keep me I will try to be good." - -"My dear, you are good. I have nothing to complain of. Of course we -will keep you. Nobody has thought for a moment of bidding you go. But -you should understand that when your aunt made the proposition I was -bound to tell it you." Then there was great embracing and kissing, -and Ayala felt that she was relieved from a terrible danger. She had -often declared that no one could make her marry her cousin Tom; but -it had seemed to her for a moment that if she were given up bodily to -the Tringles no mode of escape would be open to her short of suicide. -There had been a moment almost of regret that she had never brought -herself to regard Jonathan Stubbs as an Angel of Light. - -At Somerset House Lady Tringle made her suggestion to her brother -with even more flowery assurance of general happiness than she had -used in endeavouring to persuade his wife. Ayala would, of course, -be married to Tom in the course of the next six months, and during -the same period Lucy, no doubt, would be married to that very -enterprising but somewhat obstinate young man, Mr. Hamel. Thus there -would be an end to all the Dormer troubles; "and you, Reginald," she -said, "will be relieved from a burden which never ought to have been -laid upon your shoulder." - -"We will think of it," he said very gravely, over and over again. -Beyond that "we will think of it" he could not be induced to utter a -word. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -"A COLD PROSPECT!" - - -Three days were allowed to Frank Houston to consider within his own -mind what he would say for himself and what he would propose finally -to do when he should see Miss Docimer on the appointed Sunday. He was -called upon to decide whether, after so many resolutions made to the -contrary, he would now at last bring himself to encounter poverty -and a family,--genteel poverty with about seven hundred and fifty -pounds a-year between himself and his wife. He had hitherto been very -staunch on the subject, and had unfortunately thought that Imogene -Docimer had been as firmly fixed in her determination. His theory had -in itself been good. If two people marry they are likely, according -to the laws of nature, to have very soon more than two. In the -process of a dozen years they may not improbably become ever so many -more than two. Funds which were barely enough, if enough, for two, -would certainly fail to be enough for half-a-dozen. His means were -certainly not enough for himself, as he had hitherto found them. -Imogene's means were less even than his own. Therefore, it was clear -that he and Imogene ought not to marry and encounter the danger of -all those embryo mouths. There was a logic about it which had seemed -to him to be unanswerable. It was a logic which applied to his case -above all others. The man who had a hope of earning money need not -be absolutely bound by it. To him the money might come as quickly -as the mouths. With the cradles would arrive the means of buying -the cradles. And to the man who had much more than enough for -himself,--to such a man as he had expected to be while he was looking -forward to the coffin of that iniquitous uncle,--the logic did -not apply at all. In defending himself, both to himself and to -Imogene, he was very strong upon that point. A man who had plenty -and would not divide his plenty with another might with truth be -called selfish. Rich old bachelors might with propriety be called -curmudgeons. But was it right that a man should be abused,--even by -a young lady to whom, under more propitious circumstances, he had -offered his heart,--when he declared himself unwilling to multiply -suffering by assisting to bring into the world human beings whom he -would be unable to support? He had felt himself to be very strong in -his logic, and had unfortunately made the mistake of supposing that -it was as clear to Imogene as to himself. - -Then he had determined to rectify the inconvenience of his position. -It had become manifest to him whilst he was waiting for his uncle's -money that not only were his own means insufficient for married life -but even for single comfort. It would always come to pass that when -he had resolved on two mutton chops and half-a-pint of sherry the -humble little meal would spread itself into woodcock and champagne. -He regarded it as an unkindness in Providence that he should not have -been gifted with economy. Therefore, he had to look about him for a -remedy; and, as Imogene was out of the question, he found a remedy in -Gertrude Tringle. He had then believed that everything was settled -for him,--not, indeed, in a manner very pleasant, but after a fashion -that would make life possible to him. Sir Thomas had given one of -his daughters, with a large sum of money, to such a man as Septimus -Traffick,--a man more impecunious than himself, one whom Frank did -not hesitate to pronounce to be much less of a gentleman. That seat -in the House of Commons was to him nothing. There were many men in -the House of Commons to whom he would hardly condescend to speak. -To be the younger son of a latter-day peer was to him nothing. He -considered himself in all respects to be a more eligible husband than -Septimus Traffick. Therefore he had entertained but little doubt when -he found himself accepted by Gertrude herself and her mother. Then -by degrees he had learnt to know something of the young lady to whom -he intended to devote himself; and it had come to pass that the -better he had known the less he had liked her. Nevertheless he had -persevered, groaning in spirit as he thought of the burden with which -he was about to inflict himself. Then had come the release. Sir -Thomas had explained to him that no money would be forthcoming; and -the young lady had made to him a foolish proposition, which, as he -thought, fully justified him in regarding the match as at an end. - -And then he had three days in which to make up his mind. It may be a -question whether three days are ever much better than three minutes -for such a purpose. A man's mind will very generally refuse to make -itself up until it be driven and compelled by emergency. The three -days are passed not in forming but in postponing judgment. In nothing -is procrastination so tempting as in thought. So it came to pass, -that through the Thursday, the Friday, and the Saturday, Frank -Houston came to no conclusion, though he believed that every hour -of the time was devoted to forming one. Then, as he ate his dinner -on Saturday night at his club, a letter was brought to him, the -handwriting of which was familiar to him. This letter assisted him -little in thinking. - -The letter was from Gertrude Tringle, and need not be given in its -entirety. There was a good deal of reproach, in that he had been so -fickle as to propose to abandon her at the first touch of adversity. -Then she had gone on to say, that, knowing her father a great deal -better than he could do, she was quite satisfied that the money would -be all right. But the last paragraph of the letter shall be given. -"Papa has almost yielded already. I have been very ill;"--here the -extent of her malady was shown by the strength of the underscoring -with which the words were made significant;--"very ill indeed," she -went on to say, "as you will understand if you have ever really loved -me. I have kept my bed almost ever since I got your cruel letter." -Bed and cruel were again strenuously underscored. "It has made papa -very unhappy, and, though he has said nothing to myself, he has told -mamma that if I am really in earnest he will do something for us." -The letter was long, but this is all the reader need see of it. But -it must be explained that the young lady had greatly exaggerated her -mother's words, and that her mother had exaggerated those which Sir -Thomas had spoken. "She is a stupid idiot," Sir Thomas had said to -his wife. "If she is obedient, and does her duty, of course I shall -do something for her some day." This had been stretched to that -promise of concession which Gertrude communicated to her lover. - -This was the assistance which Frank Houston received in making up -his mind on Saturday night. If what the girl said was true, there -was still open to him the manner of life which he had prepared for -himself; and he did believe the announcement to be true. Though Sir -Thomas had been so persistent in his refusals, his experience in life -had taught him to believe that a parent's sternness is never a match -for a daughter's obstinacy. Had there been a touch of tenderness in -his heart to the young lady herself he would not have abandoned her -so easily. But he had found his consolation when giving up his hope -of Sir Thomas's money. Now, should he again take to the girl, and -find his consolation in accepting the money? Should he resolve upon -doing so, this would materially affect any communication which he -might make to Imogene on the following day. - -While thus in doubt he went into the smoking-room and there he found -any thinking to be out of the question. A great question was being -debated as to club law. One man had made an assertion. He had -declared that another man had been seen playing cards in a third -man's company. A fourth man had, thereupon, put his hat on his head, -and had declared contumaciously that the "assertion was not true." -Having so declared he had contumaciously stalked out of the room, -and had banged the door after him,--very contumaciously indeed. -The question was whether the contumacious gentleman had misbehaved -himself in accordance with the rules of the club, and, if so, what -should be done to him. Not true is as bad as "false." "False," -applied to a gentleman in a club, must be matter either of an apology -or expulsion. The objectionable word had, no doubt, been said in -defence of an absent man, and need not, perhaps, have been taken up -had the speaker not at once put on his hat and stalked out of the -room, and banged the door. It was asserted that a lie may be given -by the way in which a door is banged. And yet no club punishes the -putting on of hats, or stalking off, or the banging of doors. It was -a difficult question, and occupied Frank Houston till two o'clock -in the morning, to the exclusion of Gertrude Tringle and Imogene -Docimer. - -On the Sunday morning he was not up early, nor did he go to church. -The contumacious gentleman was a friend of his, whom he knew that no -arguments would induce to apologise. He believed also that gentleman -No. 3 might have been seen playing cards with gentleman No. 2,--so -that there was no valid excuse for the banging of the door. He was -much exercised by the points to be decided, so that when he got into -a cab to be taken to Mrs. Docimer's house he had hardly come to -any other conclusion than that one which had arisen to him from a -comparison between the two young ladies. Imogene was nearly perfect, -and Gertrude was as nearly the reverse as a young lady could be with -the proper number of eyes in her head and a nose between them. The -style of her letter was abominable to him. "Very ill indeed;--as you -will understand, if you ever really loved me!" There was a mawkish -clap-trap about it which thoroughly disgusted him. Everything from -Imogene was straightforward and downright whether it were love or -whether it were anger. But then to be settled with an income of -L3,000 a year would relieve him from such a load of care! - -"And so Tringle pere does not see the advantage of such a -son-in-law," said Imogene, after the first greetings were over -between them. The greetings had been very simple,--just a touch of -the hand, just a civil word,--civil, but not in the least tender, -just an inclination of the head, and then two seats occupied with all -the rug between them. - -"Yes, indeed!" said Frank. "The man is a fool, because he will -probably get somebody who will behave less well to his daughter, and -make a worse use of his money." - -"Just so. One can only be astonished at his folly. Is there no hope -left?" - -"A glimmer there is." - -"Oh, indeed!" - -"I got a letter last night from my lady-love, in which she tells -me that she is very ill, and that her sickness is working upon her -father's bowels." - -"Frank!" - -"It is the proper language;--working upon her father's bowels of -compassion. Fathers always have bowels of compassion at last." - -"You will return then, of course?" - -"What do you say?" - -"As for myself,--or as for you?" - -"As a discreet and trusty counsellor. To me you have always been a -trusty counsellor." - -"Then I should put a few things into a bag, go down to Merle Park, -and declare that, in spite of all the edicts that ever came from a -father's mouth, you cannot absent yourself while you know that your -Gertrude is ill." - -"And so prepare a new cousin for you to press to your bosom." - -"If you can endure her for always, why should not I for an hour or -two, now and again?" - -"Why not, indeed? In fact, Imogene, this enduring, and not -enduring,--even this living, and not living,--is, after all, but an -affair of the imagination. Who can tell but, that as years roll on, -she may be better-looking even than you." - -"Certainly." - -"And have as much to say for herself?" - -"A great deal more that is worth hearing." - -"And behave herself as a mother of a family with quite as much -propriety?" - -"In all that I do not doubt that she would be my superior." - -"More obedient I am sure she would be." - -"Or she would be very disobedient." - -"And then she can provide me and my children with ample comforts." - -"Which I take it is the real purpose for which a wife should be -married." - -"Therefore," said he,--and then he stopped. - -"And therefore there should be no doubt." - -"Though I hate her," he said, clenching his fist with violence as he -spoke, "with every fibre of my heart,--still you think there should -be no doubt?" - -"That, Frank, is violent language,--and foolish." - -"And though I love you so intensely that whenever I see her the -memory of you becomes an agony to me." - -"Such language is only more violent and more foolish." - -"Surely not, if I have made up my mind at last, that I never will -willingly see Miss Tringle again." Here he got up, and walking across -the rug, stood over her, and waited as though expecting some word -from her. But she, putting her two hands up to her head, and brushing -her hair away from her forehead, looked up to him for what further -words might come to him. "Surely not," he continued, "if I have made -up my mind at last, that nothing shall ever again serve to rob me of -your love,--if I may still hope to possess it." - -"Oh, Frank!" she said, "how mean I am to be a creature obedient to -the whistle of such a master as you!" - -"But are you obedient?" - -"You know that well enough. I have had no Gertrude with whom I have -vacillated, whether for the sake of love or lucre. Whatever you may -be,--whether mean or noble,--you are the only man with whom I can -endure to live, for whom I would endure to die. Of course I had -not expected that your love should be like mine. How should it be -so, seeing that you are a man and that I am but a woman." Here he -attempted to seat himself by her on the sofa, which she occupied, but -she gently repulsed him, motioning him towards the chair which he had -occupied, "Sit there, Frank," she said, "so that we may look into -each other's faces and talk seriously. Is it to come to this then, -that I am to ruin you at last?" - -"There will be no ruin." - -"But there will, if we are married now. Shall I tell you the kind of -life which would satisfy me?" - -"Some little place abroad?" he asked. - -"Oh, dear, no! No place to which you would be confined at all. If -I may remain as I am, knowing that you intend to marry no one else, -feeling confident that there is a bond binding us together even -though we should never become man and wife, I should be, if not -happy, at least contented." - -"That is a cold prospect." - -"Cold;--but not ice-cold, as would have been the other. Cold, but not -wretchedly cold, as would be the idea always present to me that I had -reduced you to poverty. Frank, I am so far selfish that I cannot bear -to abandon the idea of your love. But I am not so far selfish as to -wish to possess it at the expense of your comfort. Shall it be so?" - -"Be how?" said he, speaking almost in anger. - -"Let us remain just as we are. Only you will promise me, that as I -cannot be your wife there shall be no other. I need hardly promise -you that there will be no other husband." Now he sat frowning at -her, while she, still pressing back her hair with her hands, looked -eagerly into his face. "If this will be enough for you," she said, -"it shall be enough for me." - -"No, by G----d!" - -"Frank!" - -"It will certainly not be enough for me. I will have nothing to do -with so damnable a compact." - -"Damnable!" - -"Yes; that is what I call it. That is what any man would call -it,--and any woman, too, who would speak her mind." - -"Then, Sir, perhaps you will be kind enough to make your proposition. -I have made mine, such as it is, and am sorry that it should not have -been received at any rate with courtesy." But as she said this there -was a gleam of a bright spirit in her eyes, such as he had not seen -since first the name of Gertrude had been mentioned to her. - -"Yes," said he. "You have made your proposition, and now it is only -fair that I should make mine. Indeed, I made it already when I -suggested that little place abroad. Let it be abroad or at home, or -of what nature it may,--so that you shall be there, and I with you, -it shall be enough for me. That is my proposition; and, if it be not -accepted, then I shall return to Miss Tringle and all the glories of -Lombard Street." - -"Frank--" she said. Then, before she could speak another word, he had -risen from his seat, and she was in his arms. "Frank," she continued, -pushing back his kisses, "how impossible it is that I should not be -obedient to you in all things! I know,--I know that I am agreeing to -that which will cause you some day to repent." - -"By heavens, no!" said he. "I am changed in all that." - -"A man cannot change at once. Your heart is soft, but your nature -remains the same. Frank, I could be so happy at this moment if I -could forget the picture which my imagination points to me of your -future life. Your love, and your generous words, and the look out of -your dear eyes, are sweet to me now, as when I was a child, whom you -first made so proud by telling her that she owned your heart. If I -could only revel in the return of your affections--" - -"It is no return," said he. "There has never been a moment in which -my affections have not been the same." - -"Well, then,--in these permitted signs of your affection,--if it were -not that I cannot shut out the future! Do not press me to name any -early day, because no period of my future life will be so happy to me -as this." - -"Is there any reason why I should not intrude?" said Mrs. Docimer, -opening the door when the above conversation had been extended for -perhaps another hour. - -"Not in the least, as far as I'm concerned," said Frank. "A few words -have been spoken between us, all of which may be repeated to you if -Imogene can remember them." - -"Every one of them," said Imogene; "but I hardly think that I shall -repeat them." - -"I suppose they have been very much a matter of course," said Mrs. -Docimer;--"the old story repeated between you two for the fourth -or fifth time. Considering all things, do you think that I should -congratulate you?" - -"I ask for no congratulation," said Imogene. - -"You may certainly congratulate me," said Frank. After that the -conversation became tame, and the happy lover soon escaped from the -house into the street. When there he found very much to occupy his -mind. He had certainly made his resolution at last, and had done so -in a manner which would now leave him no power of retrogression. The -whole theory of his life had,--with a vengeance,--been thrown to the -winds. "The little place abroad,"--or elsewhere,--was now a settled -certainty. He had nearly got the better of her. He had all but -succeeded in putting down his own love and hers by a little gentle -ridicule, and by a few half-wise phrases which she at the moment had -been unable to answer; but she now had in truth vanquished him by the -absolute sincerity of her love. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - -ANOTHER DUEL. - - -Frank Houston on that Sunday afternoon became an altered man. The -reader is not to suppose by this that he is declared to have suddenly -thrown off all his weaknesses, and to have succeeded in clothing -himself in an armour of bright steel, proof for the rest of his life -against all temptations. Such suits of armour are not to be had at -a moment's notice; nor, as I fear, can a man ever acquire one quite -perfect at all points who has not begun to make it for himself before -Houston's age. But he did on that day dine off the two mutton chops, -and comforted himself with no more than the half-pint of sherry. It -was a great beginning. Throughout the whole evening he could not be -got for a moment to join any of the club juntas which were discussing -the great difficulty of the contumacious gentleman. "I think he -must really be going to be married at last!" one club pundit said -when a question was asked as to Houston's singular behaviour on the -occasion. - -He was indeed very sober,--so sober that he left the smoking-room -as soon as his one silent cigar was finished, and went out alone in -order that he might roam the streets in thoughtful solitude. It was -a clear frosty night, and as he buttoned his great coat around him -he felt that the dry cold air would do him good, and assist his -meditations. At last then everything was arranged for him, and he was -to encounter exactly that mode of life which he had so often told -himself to be most unfit for him. There were to be the cradles always -full, and his little coffer so nearly empty! And he had done it -all for himself. She, Imogene, had proposed a mode of life to him -which would at any rate have saved him from this; but it had been -impossible that he should accept a plan so cruel to her when the -proposition came from herself. It must all soon be done now. She had -asked that a distant day might be fixed for their marriage. Even -that request, coming from her, made it almost imperative upon him -to insist upon an early day. It would be well for him to look upon -to-morrow, or a few morrows whose short distance would be immaterial -as the time fixed. - -No;--there should be no going back now! So he declared to himself, -endeavouring to prepare the suit of armour for his own wearing. Pau -might be the best place,--or perhaps one of those little towns in -Brittany. Dresden would not do, because there would be society at -Dresden, and he must of course give up all ideas of society. He -would have liked Rome; but Rome would be far too expensive, and then -residents in Rome require to be absent three or four months every -year. He and his wife and large family,--he had no doubt in life -as to the large family,--would not be able to allow themselves any -recreation such as that. He thought he had heard that the ordinary -comforts of life were cheap in the west of Ireland,--or, if not -cheap, unobtainable, which would be the same thing. Perhaps Castlebar -might be a good locality for his nursery. There would be nothing to -do at Castlebar,--no amusement whatever for such a one as himself, -no fitting companion for Imogene. But then amusement for himself -and companions for Imogene must of course be out of the question. -He thought that perhaps he might turn his hand to a little useful -gardening,--parsnips instead of roses,--while Imogene would be at -work in the nursery. He would begin at once and buy two or three -dozen pipes, because tobacco would be so much cheaper than cigars. He -knew a shop at which were to be had some very pretty new-fashioned -meerschaums, which, he had been told, smokers of pipes found to -be excellent. But, whether it should be Pau or whether it should -be Castlebar, whether it should be pipes or whether, in regard to -economy, no tobacco at all, the question now was at any rate settled -for him. He felt rather proud of his gallantry, as he took himself -home to bed, declaring to himself that he would answer that last -letter from Gertrude in a very few words and in a very decided tone. - -There would be many little troubles. On the Monday morning he got -up early thinking that as a family man such a practice would be -necessary for him. When he had disturbed the house and nearly -driven his own servant mad by demanding breakfast at an altogether -unaccustomed hour, he found that he had nothing to do. There was that -head of Imogene for which she had only once sat, and at which he had -occasionally worked from memory because of her refusal to sit again; -and he thought for a moment that this might be good employment -for him now. But his art was only an expense to him. He could not -now afford for himself paint and brushes and canvas, so he turned -the half-finished head round upon his easel. Then he took out his -banker's book, a bundle of bills and some blotted scraps of ruled -paper, with which he set himself to work to arrange his accounts. -When he did this he must certainly have been in earnest. But he had -not as yet succeeded in seeing light through his figures when he was -interrupted by the arrival of a letter which altogether arrested his -attention. It was from Mudbury Docimer, and this was the letter;-- - - - DEAR HOUSTON, - - Of course I think that you and Imogene are two fools. - She has told me what took place here yesterday, and I - have told her the same as I tell you. I have no power to - prevent it; but you know as well as I do that you and she - cannot live together on the interest of sixteen thousand - pounds. When you've paid everything that you owe I don't - suppose there will be so much as that. It had been - arranged between you that everything should be over; and - if I had thought that anything of the kind would have - occurred again I would have told them not to let you into - the house. What is the good of two such people as you - making yourselves wretched for ever, just to satisfy the - romance of a moment? I call it wicked. So I told Imogene, - and so I tell you. - - You have changed your mind so often that of course you may - change it again. I am sure that Imogene expects that you - will. Indeed I can hardly believe that you intend to be - such a Quixote. But at any rate I have done my duty. She - is old enough to look after herself, but as long as she - lives with me as my sister I shall tell her what I think; - and until she becomes your wife,--which I hope she never - will be,--I shall tell you the same. - - Yours truly, - - MUDBURY DOCIMER. - - -"He always was a hard, unfeeling fellow," said Frank to himself. Then -he put the letter by with a crowd of others, assuring himself that it -was one which required no answer. - -On the afternoon he called at the house, as he did again on the -Tuesday; but on neither day did he succeed in seeing Imogene. This he -thought to be hard, as the pleasure of her society was as sweet to -him as ever, though he was doubtful as to his wisdom in marrying her. -On the Wednesday morning he received a note from her asking him not -to come at once, because Mudbury had chosen to put himself into a -bad humour. Then a few words of honey were added; "Of course you -know that nothing that he can say will make a change. I am too -well satisfied to allow of any change that shall not come from you -yourself." He was quite alive to the sweetness of the honey, and -declared to himself that Mudbury Docimer's ill-humour was a matter to -him of no concern whatever. - -But on the Wednesday there came also another letter,--in regard to -which it will be well that we should travel down again to Merle Park. -An answer altogether averse to the proposed changes as to the nieces -had been received from Mrs. Dosett. "As Ayala does not wish it, of -course nothing can be done." Such was the decision as conveyed by -Mrs. Dosett. It seemed to Lady Tringle that this was absurd. It was -all very well extending charity to the children of her deceased -sister, Mrs. Dormer; but all the world was agreed that beggars should -not be choosers. "As Ayala does not wish it." Why should not Ayala -wish it? What a fool must Ayala be not to wish it? Why should not -Ayala be made to do as she was told, whether she wished it or not? -Such were the indignant questions which Lady Tringle asked of her -husband. He was becoming sick of the young ladies altogether,--of her -own girls as well as the Dormer girls. "They are a pack of idiots -together," he said, "and Tom is the worst of the lot." With this he -rushed off to London, and consoled himself with his millions. - -Mrs. Dosett's letter had reached Merle Park on the Tuesday morning, -Sir Thomas having remained down in the country over the Monday. -Gertrude, having calculated the course of the post with exactness, -had hoped to get a reply from Frank to that last letter of -hers,--dated from her sick bed, but written in truth after a little -surreptitious visit to the larder after the servants' dinner,--on -the Sunday morning. This had been possible, and would have evinced a -charming alacrity on the part of her lover. But this she had hardly -ventured to expect. Then she had looked with anxiety to the arrival -of letters on the Monday afternoon, but had looked in vain. On the -Tuesday morning she had felt so certain that she had contrived to -open the post-bag herself in spite of illness;--but there had been -nothing for her. Then she sent the dispatch which reached Frank on -the Wednesday morning, and immediately afterwards took to her bed -again with such a complication of disorders that the mare with the -broken knees was sent at once into Hastings for the doctor. - -"A little rice will be the best thing for her," said the doctor. - -"But the poor child takes nothing,--literally nothing," said Lady -Tringle, who was frightened for her child. Then the doctor went on -to say that arrowroot would be good, and sago, but offered no other -prescription. Lady Tringle was disgusted by his ignorance, and -thought that it might be well to send up to London for some great -man. The doctor bowed, and made up his mind that Lady Tringle was an -ass. But, being an honest man, and also tender-hearted, he contrived -to get hold of Tom before he left the house. - -"Your sister's health is generally good?" he said. Tom assented. As -far as he knew, Gertrude had always been as strong as a horse. "Eats -well?" asked the doctor. Tom, who occasionally saw the family at -lunch, gave a description of his sister's general performance. - -"She is a fine healthy young lady," said the doctor. Tom gave a -brother's ready adhesion to the word healthy, but passed over the -other epithet as being superfluous. "Now, I'll tell you what it is," -said the doctor. "Of course I don't want to inquire into any family -secrets." - -"My father, you know," said Tom, "won't agree about the man she's -engaged to." - -"That is it? I knew there was some little trouble, but I did not want -to ask any questions. Your mother is unnecessarily frightened, and -I have not wished to disturb her. Your sister is taking plenty of -nourishment?" - -"She does not come to table, nor yet have it in her own room." - -"She gets it somehow. I can say that it is so. Her veins are full, -and her arms are strong. Perhaps she goes into the kitchen. Have a -little tray made ready for her, with something nice. She will be sure -to find it, and when she has found it two or three times she will -know that she has been discovered. If Lady Tringle does send for -a physician from London you could perhaps find an opportunity of -telling him what I have suggested. Her mamma need know nothing about -it." This took place on the Tuesday, and on the Wednesday morning -Gertrude knew that she had been discovered,--at any rate by Tom and -the doctor. "I took care to keep a wing for you," said Tom; "I carved -them myself at dinner." As he so addressed her he came out from his -hiding-place in the kitchen about midnight, and surprised her in the -larder. She gave a fearful scream, which, however, luckily was not -heard through the house. "You won't tell mamma, Tom, will you?" Tom -promised that he would not, on condition that she would come down -to breakfast on the following morning. This she did, and the London -physician was saved a journey. - -But, in the meantime, Gertrude's second letter had gone up to Frank, -and also a very heartrending epistle from Lady Tringle to her -husband. "Poor Gertrude is in a very bad state. If ever there was -a girl really broken-hearted on account of love, she is one. I did -not think she would ever set her heart upon a man with such violent -affection. I do think you might give way when it becomes a question -of life and death. There isn't anything really against Mr. Houston." -Sir Thomas, as he read this, was a little shaken. He had hitherto -been inclined to agree with Rosalind, "That men have died from time -to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love." But now he did -not know what to think about it. There was Tom undoubtedly in a bad -way, and here was Gertrude brought to such a condition, simply by her -love, that she refused to take her meals regularly! Was the world -come to such a pass that a father was compelled to give his daughter -with a large fortune to an idle adventurer, or else to be responsible -for his daughter's life? Would Augusta have pined away and died had -she not been allowed to marry her Traffick? Would Lucy pine and die -unless money were given to her sculptor? Upon the whole, Sir Thomas -thought that the cares of his family were harder to bear than those -of his millions. In regard to Gertrude, he almost thought that he -would give way, if only that he might be rid of that trouble. - -It must be acknowledged that Frank Houston, when he received the -young lady's letter, was less soft-hearted than her father. The -letter was, or should have been, heartrending;-- - - - YOU CRUEL MAN, - - You must have received my former letter, and though I told - you that I was ill and almost dying you have not heeded - it! Three posts have come, and I have not had a line from - you. In your last you were weak enough to say that you - were going to give it all up because you could not make - papa do just what you wanted all at once. Do you know what - it is to have taken possession of a young lady's heart; - or is it true, as Augusta says of you, that you care for - nothing but the money? If it is so, say it at once and - let me die. As it is I am so very ill that I cannot eat a - mouthful of anything, and have hardly strength left to me - to write this letter. - - But I cannot really believe what Augusta says, though I - daresay it may have been so with Mr. Traffick. Perhaps you - have not been to your club, and so you have not got my - former letter. Or, it may be that you are ill yourself. - If so, I do wish that I could come and nurse you, though - indeed I am so ill that I am quite unable to leave my bed. - - At any rate, pray write immediately;--and do come! Mamma - seems to think that papa will give way because I am so - ill. If so, I shall think my illness the luckiest thing - in the world.--You must believe, dearest Frank, that I am - now, as ever, yours most affectionately, - - GERTRUDE. - - -Frank Houston was less credulous than Sir Thomas, and did not believe -much in the young lady's sickness. It was evident that the young lady -was quite up to the work of deceiving her father and mother, and -would no doubt be willing to deceive himself if anything could be got -by it. But, whether she were ill or whether she were well, he could -offer her no comfort. Nevertheless, he was bound to send her some -answer, and with a troubled spirit he wrote as follows;-- - - - MY DEAR MISS TRINGLE, - - It is to me a matter of inexpressible grief that I should - have to explain again that I am unable to persist in - seeking the honour of your hand in opposition to the - absolute and repeated refusals which I have received from - your father. It is so evident that we could not marry - without his consent that I need not now go into that - matter. But I think myself bound to say that, considering - the matter in all its bearing, I must regard our - engagement as finally at an end. Were I to hesitate in - saying this very plainly I think I should be doing you an - injury. - - I am sorry to hear that you are unwell, and trust that you - may soon recover your health. - - Your sincere friend, - - FRANK HOUSTON. - - -On the next morning Gertrude was still in her bed, having there -received her letter, when she sent a message to her brother. Would -Tom come and see her? Tom attended to her behest, and then sat down -by her bedside on being told in a mysterious voice that she had to -demand from him a great service. "Tom," she said, "that man has -treated me most shamefully and most falsely." - -"What man?" - -"What man? Why, Frank Houston. There has never been any other man. -After all that has been said and done he is going to throw me over." - -"The governor threw him over," said Tom. - -"That amounts to nothing. The governor would have given way, of -course, and if he hadn't that was no matter of his. After he had had -my promise he was bound to go on with it. Don't you think so?" - -"Perhaps he was," said Tom, dubiously. - -"Of course he was. What else is the meaning of a promise? Now I'll -tell you what you must do. You must go up to London and find him out. -You had better take a stick with you, and then ask him what he means -to do." - -"And if he says he'll do nothing?" - -"Then, Tom, you should call him out. It is just the position in which -a brother is bound to do that kind of thing for his sister. When he -has been called out, then probably he'll come round, and all will be -well." - -The prospect was one which Tom did not at all like. He had had one -duel on his hands on his own account, and had not as yet come through -it with flying colours. There were still moments in which he felt -that he would be compelled at last to take to violence in reference -to Colonel Stubbs. He was all but convinced that were he to do so -he would fall into some great trouble, but still it was more than -probable that his outraged feelings would not allow him to resist. -But this second quarrel was certainly unnecessary. "That's all -nonsense, Gertrude," he said, "I can do nothing of the kind." - -"You will not?" - -"Certainly not. It would be absurd. You ask Septimus and he will tell -you that it is so." - -"Septimus, indeed!" - -"At any rate, I won't. Men don't call each other out now-a-days. -I know what ought to be done in these kind of things, and such -interference as that would be altogether improper." - -"Then, Tom," said she, raising herself in bed, and looking round upon -him, "I will never call you my brother again!" - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - -ONCE MORE! - - -"Probably you are not aware, Sir, that I am not at present the young -lady's guardian." This was said at the office in Lombard Street by -Sir Thomas, in answer to an offer made to him by Captain Batsby for -Ayala's hand. Captain Batsby had made his way boldly into the great -man's inner room, and had there declared his purpose in a short and -business-like manner. He had an ample income of his own, he said, -and was prepared to make a proper settlement on the young lady. If -necessary, he would take her without any fortune;--but it would, of -course, be for the lady's comfort and for his own if something in the -way of money were forthcoming. So much he added, having heard of this -uncle's enormous wealth, and having also learned the fact that if Sir -Thomas were not at this moment Ayala's guardian he had been not long -ago. Sir Thomas listened to him with patience, and then replied to -him as above. - -"Just so, Sir Thomas. I did hear that. But I think you were once; and -you are still her uncle." - -"Yes; I am her uncle." - -"And when I was so ill-treated in Kingsbury Crescent I thought -I would come to you. It could not be right that a gentleman -making an honourable proposition,--and very liberal, as you must -acknowledge,--should not be allowed to see the young lady. It was not -as though I did not know her. I had been ten days in the same house -with her. Don't you think, Sir Thomas, I ought to have been allowed -to see her?" - -"I have nothing to do with her," said Sir Thomas;--"that is, in the -way of authority." Nevertheless, before Captain Batsby left him, he -became courteous to that gentleman, and though he could not offer any -direct assurance he acknowledged that the application was reasonable. -He was, in truth, becoming tired of Ayala, and would have been glad -to find a husband whom she would accept, so that she might be out -of Tom's way. He had been quite willing that Tom should marry the -girl if it were possible, but he began to be convinced that it was -impossible. He had offered again to open his house to her, with all -its wealth, but she had refused to come into it. His wife had told -him that, if Ayala could be brought back in place of Lucy, she would -surely yield. But Ayala would not allow herself to be brought back. -And there was Tom as bad as ever. If Ayala were once married then Tom -could go upon his travels, and come back, no doubt, a sane man. Sir -Thomas thought it might be well to make inquiry about this Captain, -and then see if a marriage might be arranged. Mrs. Dosett, he told -himself, was a hard, stiff woman, and would never get the girl -married unless she allowed such a suitor as this Captain Batsby to -have access to the house. He did make inquiry, and before the week -was over had determined that if Ayala would become Mrs. Batsby there -might probably be an end to one of his troubles. - -As he went down to Merle Park he arranged his plan. He would, in the -first place, tell Tom that Ayala had as many suitors as Penelope, -and that one had come up now who would probably succeed. But when he -reached home he found that his son was gone. Tom had taken a sudden -freak, and had run up to London. "He seemed quite to have got a -change," said Lady Tringle. - -"I hope it was a change for the better as to that stupid girl." Lady -Tringle could not say that there had been any change for the better, -but she thought that there had been a change about the girl. Tom -had, as she said, quite "brisked up," had declared that he was not -going to stand this thing any longer, had packed up three or four -portmanteaus, and had had himself carried off to the nearest railway -station in time for an afternoon train up to London. "What is he -going to do when he gets there?" asked Sir Thomas. Lady Tringle had -no idea what her son intended to do, but thought that something -special was intended in regard to Ayala. - -"He is an ass," said the father. - -"You always say he is an ass," said the mother, complaining. - -"No doubt I do. What else am I to call him?" Then he went on and -developed his scheme. "Let Ayala be asked to Merle Park for a -week,--just for a week,--and assured that during that time Tom -would not be there. Then let Captain Batsby also be invited." Upon -this there followed an explanation as to Captain Batsby and his -aspirations. Tom must be relieved after some fashion, and Sir Thomas -declared that no better fashion seemed to present itself. Lady -Tringle received her orders with sundry murmurings, still grieving -for her son's grief;--but she assented, as she always did assent, to -her husband's propositions. - -Now we will accompany Tom up to London. The patient reader will -perhaps have understood the condition of his mind when in those -days of his sharpest agony he had given himself up to Faddle and -champagne. By these means he had brought himself into trouble and -disgrace, of which he was fully conscious. He had fallen into the -hands of the police and had been harassed during the whole period by -headache and nausea. Then had come the absurdity of his challenge -to Colonel Stubbs, the folly of which had been made plain to him by -the very letter which his rival had written to him. There was good -sense enough about the poor fellow to enable him to understand -that the police court, and the prison, that Faddle and the orgies -at Bolivia's, that his challenge and the reply to it, were alike -dishonourable to him. Then had come a reaction, and he spent a -miserable fortnight down at Merle Park, doing nothing, resolving on -nothing, merely moping about and pouring the oft-repeated tale of his -woes into his mother's bosom. These days at Merle Park gave him back -at any rate his health, and rescued him from the intense wretchedness -of his condition on the day after the comparison of Bolivia's wines. -In this improved state he told himself that it behoved him even yet -to do something as a man, and he came suddenly to the bold resolution -of having,--as he called it to himself,--another "dash at Ayala." - -How the "dash" was to be made he had not determined when he left -home. But to this he devoted the whole of the following Sunday. He -had received a lachrymose letter from his friend Faddle, at Aberdeen, -in which the unfortunate youth had told him that he was destined to -remain in that wretched northern city for the rest of his natural -life. He had not as yet been to the Mountaineers since his mishap -with the police, and did not care to show himself there at present. -He was therefore altogether alone, and, walking all alone the entire -round of the parks, he at last formed his resolution. - -On the following morning when Mr. Dosett entered his room at Somerset -House, a little after half-past ten o'clock, he found his nephew -Tom there before him, and waiting for him. Mr. Dosett was somewhat -astonished, for he too had heard of Tom's misfortunes. Some -ill-natured chronicle of Tom's latter doings had spread itself among -the Tringle and Dosett sets, and Uncle Reginald was aware that his -nephew had been forced to relinquish his stool in Lombard Street. The -vices of the young are perhaps too often exaggerated, so that Mr. -Dosett had heard of an amount of champagne consumed and a number -of policemen wounded, of which his nephew had not been altogether -guilty. There was an idea at Kingsbury Crescent that Tom had gone -nearly mad, and was now kept under paternal care at Merle Park. When, -therefore, he saw Tom blooming in health, and brighter than usual in -general appearance, he was no doubt rejoiced, but also surprised, at -the change. "What, Tom!" he said; "I'm glad to see you looking so -well. Are you up in London again?" - -"I'm in town for a day or two," said Tom. - -"And what can I do for you?" - -"Well, Uncle Reginald, you can do a great deal for me if you will. Of -course you've heard of all those rows of mine?" - -"I have heard something." - -"Everybody has heard," said Tom, mournfully. "I don't suppose anybody -was ever knocked so much about as I've been for the last six months." - -"I'm sorry for that, Tom." - -"I'm sure you are, because you're always good-natured. Now I wonder -if you will do a great thing to oblige me." - -"Let us hear what it is," said Uncle Reginald. - -"I suppose you know that there is only one thing in the world that I -want." Mr. Dosett thought that it would be discreet to make no reply -to this, but, turning his chair partly round, he prepared to listen -very attentively to what his nephew might have to say to him. "All -this about the policeman and the rest of it has simply come from my -being so unhappy about Ayala." - -"It wouldn't be taken as a promise of your being a good husband, Tom, -when you get into such a mess as that." - -"That's because people don't understand," said Tom. "It is because I -am so earnest about it, and because I can't bear the disappointment! -There isn't one at Travers and Treason who doesn't know that if I'd -married Ayala I should have settled down as quiet a young man as -there is in all London. You ask the governor else himself. As long as -I thought there was any hope I used to be there steady as a rock at -half-past nine. Everybody knew it. So I should again, if she'd only -come round." - -"You can't make a lady come round, as you call it." - -"Not make her; no. Of course you can't make a girl. But persuading -goes a long way. Why shouldn't she have me? As to all these rows, she -ought to feel at any rate that they're her doing. And what she's done -it stands to reason she could undo if she would. It only wants a word -from her to put me all right with the governor,--and to put me all -right with Travers and Treason too. Nobody can love her as I do." - -"I do believe that nobody could love her better," said Mr. Dosett, -who was beginning to be melted by his nephew's earnestness. - -"Oughtn't that to go for something? And then she would have -everything that she wishes. She might live anywhere she pleased,--so -that I might go to the office every day. She would have her own -carriage, you know." - -"I don't think that would matter much with Ayala." - -"It shows that I'm in a position to ask her," said Tom. "If she could -only bring herself not to hate me--" - -"There is a difference, Tom, between hating and not loving." - -"If she would only begin to make a little way, then I could hope -again. Uncle Reginald, could you not tell her that at any rate I -would be good to her?" - -"I think you would be good to her," he said. - -"Indeed, I would. There is nothing I would not do for her. Now will -you let me see her just once again, and have one other chance?" - -This was the great thing which Tom desired from his uncle, and Mr. -Dosett was so much softened by his nephew's earnestness that he did -promise to do as much as this;--to do as much as this, at least, if -it were in his power. Of course, Ayala must be told. No good could -be done by surprising her by a visit. But he would endeavour so -to arrange it that, if Tom were to come to him on the following -afternoon, they two should go to the Crescent together, and then Tom -should remain and dine there,--or go away before dinner, as he might -please, after the interview. This was settled, and Tom left Somerset -House, rejoicing greatly at his success. It seemed to him that now at -last a way was open to him. - -Uncle Reginald, on his return home, took his niece aside and talked -to her very gently and very kindly. "Whether you like him or whether -you do not, my dear, he is so true to you that you are bound to see -him again when he asks it." At first she was very stout, declaring -that she would not see him. Of what good could it be, seeing that she -would rather throw herself into the Thames than marry him? Had she -not told him so over and over again, as often as he had spoken to -her? Why would he not just leave her alone? But against all this her -uncle pleaded gently but persistently. He had considered himself -bound to promise so much on her behalf, and for his sake she must do -as he asked. To this, of course, she yielded. And then he said many -good things of poor Tom. His constancy was a great virtue. A man so -thoroughly in love would no doubt make a good husband. And then there -would be the assent of all the family, and an end, as far as Ayala -was concerned, of all pecuniary trouble. In answer to this she only -shook her head, promising, however, that she would be ready to give -Tom an audience when he should be brought to the Crescent on the -following day. - -Punctually at four Tom made his appearance at Somerset House, and -started with his uncle as soon as the index-books had been put in -their places. Tom was very anxious to take his uncle home in a -cab, but Mr. Dosett would not consent to lose his walk. Along the -Embankment they went, and across Charing Cross into St. James's Park, -and then by Green Park, Hyde Park, and Kensington Gardens, all the -way to Notting Hill. Mr. Dosett did not walk very fast, and Tom -thought they would never reach Kingsbury Crescent. His uncle would -fain have talked about the weather, or politics, or the hardships of -the Civil Service generally; but Tom would not be diverted from his -one subject. Would Ayala be gracious to him? Mr. Dosett had made up -his mind to say nothing on the subject. Tom must plead his own cause. -Uncle Reginald thought that he knew such pleading would be useless, -but still would not say a word to daunt the lover. Neither could he -say a word expressive of hope. As they were fully an hour-and-a-half -on their walk, this reticence was difficult. - -Immediately on his arrival, Tom was taken up into the drawing-room. -This was empty, for it had been arranged that Mrs. Dosett should be -absent till the meeting was over. "Now I'll look for this child," -said Uncle Reginald, in his cheeriest voice as he left Tom alone -in the room. Tom, as he looked round at the chairs and tables, -remembered that he had never received as much as a kind word or look -in the room, and then great drops of perspiration broke out all over -his brow. All that he had to hope for in the world must depend upon -the next five minutes;--might depend perhaps upon the very selection -of the words which he might use. - -Then Ayala entered the room and stood before him. - -"Ayala," he said, giving her his hand. - -"Uncle Reg says that you would like to see me once again." - -"Of course I want to see you once, and twice,--and always. Ayala, if -you could know it! If you could only know it!" Then he clasped his -two hands high upon his breast, not as though appealing to her heart, -but striking his bosom in very agony. "Ayala, I feel that, if I do -not have you as my own, I can only die for the want of you. Ayala, do -you believe me?" - -"I suppose I believe you, but how can I help it?" - -"Try to help it! Try to try and help it! Say a word that you will -perhaps help it by-and-bye." Then there came a dark frown upon her -brow,--not, indeed, from anger, but from a feeling that so terrible a -task should be thrown upon her. "I know you think that I am common." - -"I have never said a word, Tom, but that I could not love you." - -"But I am true,--true as the sun. Would I come again after all if -it were not that I cannot help coming? You have heard that I have -been,--been misbehaving myself?" - -"I have not thought about that." - -"It has been so because I have been so wretched. Ayala, you have made -me so unhappy. Ayala, you can make me the happiest man there is in -London this day. I seem to want nothing else. As for drink, or clubs, -or billiards, and all that, they are nothing to me,--unless when I -try to forget that you are so--so unkind to me!" - -"It is not unkind, not to do as you ask me." - -"To do as I ask you,--that would be kind. Oh, Ayala, cannot you be -kind to me?" She shook her head, still standing in the place which -she had occupied from the beginning. "May I come again? Will you give -me three months, and then think of it? If you would only say that, I -would go back to my work and never leave it." But she still shook her -head. "Must I never hope?" - -"Not for that, Tom. How can I help it?" - -"Not help it." - -"No. How can I help it? One does not fall in love by trying,--nor by -trying prevent it." - -"By degrees you might love me,--a little." She had said all that -she knew how to say, and again shook her head. "It is that accursed -Colonel," he exclaimed, forgetting himself as he thought of his -rival. - -"He is not accursed," said Ayala, angrily. - -"Then you love him?" - -"No! But you should not ask. You have no right to ask. It is not -proper." - -"You are not engaged to him?" - -"No; I am not engaged to him. I do not love him. As you will ask, -I tell you. But you should not ask; and he is not accursed. He is -better than you,--though I do not love him. You should not have -driven me to say this. I do not ask you questions." - -"There is none that I would not answer. Stay, Ayala," for now she was -going to leave the room. "Stay yet a moment. Do you know that you -are tearing my heart in pieces? Why is it that you should make me so -wretched? Dear Ayala;--dearest Ayala;--stay yet a moment." - -"Tom, there is nothing more that I can say. I am very, very sorry if -you are unhappy. I do think that you are good and true; and if you -will shake hands with me, there is my hand. But I cannot say what -you want me to say." Tom took her by the hand and tried to hold her, -without, however, speaking to her again. But she slid away from him -and left the room, not having for a moment sat down in his presence. - -When the door was closed he stood awhile looking round him, trying -to resolve what he might do or what he might say next. He was now -at any rate in the house with her, and did not know whether such -an opportunity as that might ever occur to him again. He felt that -there were words within his bosom which, if he could only bring them -up to his mouth, would melt the heart of a stone. There was his -ineffable love, his whole happiness at stake, his purpose,--his holy -purpose,--to devote himself, and all that he had, to her well-being. -Of all this he had a full conception within his own heart, if only he -could express it so that others should believe him! But of what use -was it now? He had had this further liberty of speech accorded to -him, and in it he had done nothing, made no inch of progress. She had -hardly spoken a dozen words to him, but of those she had spoken two -remained clear upon his memory. He must never hope, she had said; and -she had said also that that other man was better than he. Had she -said that he was dearer, the word would hardly have been more bitter. -All the old feeling came upon him of rage against his rival, and of -a desire that something desperate should be done by which he might -wreak his vengeance. - -But there he was standing alone in Mrs. Dosett's drawing-room, and it -was necessary that he should carry himself off. As for dining in that -house, sitting down to eat and drink in Ayala's presence after such a -conversation as that which was past, that he felt to be quite out of -the question. He crammed his hat upon his head, left the room, and -hurried down the stairs towards the door. - -In the passage he was met by his uncle, coming out of the -dining-room. "Tom," he said, "you'll stay and eat your dinner?" - -"No, indeed," said Tom, angrily. - -"You shouldn't let yourself be disturbed by little trifles such as -these," said his uncle, trying to put a good face upon the matter. - -"Trifles!" said Tom Tringle. "Trifles!" And he banged the door after -him as he left the house. - - -END OF VOL. II. - - - - * * * * * * - - - -AYALA'S ANGEL - -by - -ANTHONY TROLLOPE, - -Author of "Doctor Thorne," "The Prime Minister," "Orley Farm," -&c., &c. - -In Three Volumes. - -VOL. III. - - - - - - - -London: -Chapman and Hall (Limited), -11, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden. -1881. -[All Rights Reserved.] - -Westminster: -J. B. Nichols and Sons, Printers. -25, Parliament Street. - - - - -CONTENTS OF VOL. III. - - XLIV. IN THE HAYMARKET. - XLV. THERE IS SOMETHING OF THE ANGEL ABOUT HIM. - XLVI. AYALA GOES AGAIN TO STALHAM. - XLVII. CAPTAIN BATSBY AT MERLE PARK. - XLVIII. THE JOURNEY TO OSTEND. - XLIX. THE NEW FROCK. - L. GOBBLEGOOSE WOOD ON SUNDAY. - LI. "NO!" - LII. "I CALL IT FOLLY." - LIIII. HOW LUCY'S AFFAIRS ARRANGED THEMSELVES. - LIV. TOM'S LAST ATTEMPT. - LV. IN THE CASTLE THERE LIVED A KNIGHT. - LVI. GOBBLEGOOSE WOOD AGAIN. - LVII. CAPTAIN BATSBY IN LOMBARD STREET. - LVIII. MR. TRAFFICK IN LOMBARD STREET. - LIX. TREGOTHNAN. - LX. AUNT ROSINA. - LXI. TOM TRINGLE GOES UPON HIS TRAVELS. - LXII. HOW VERY MUCH HE LOVED HER. - LXIII. AYALA AGAIN IN LONDON. - LXIV. AYALA'S MARRIAGE. - - - - -AYALA'S ANGEL. - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - -IN THE HAYMARKET. - - -It was now the beginning of February. As Tom and his uncle had walked -from Somerset House the streets were dry and the weather fine; but, -as Mr. Dosett had remarked, the wind was changing a little out of -the east and threatened rain. When Tom left the house it was already -falling. It was then past six, and the night was very dark. He had -walked there with a top coat and umbrella, but he had forgotten -both as he banged the door after him in his passion; and, though -he remembered them as he hurried down the steps, he would not turn -and knock at the door and ask for them. He was in that humour which -converts outward bodily sufferings almost into a relief. When a -man has been thoroughly illused in greater matters it is almost a -consolation to him to feel that he has been turned out into the -street to get wet through without his dinner,--even though he may -have turned himself out. - -He walked on foot, and as he walked became damp and dirty, till he -was soon wet through. As soon as he reached Lancaster Gate he went -into the park, and under the doubtful glimmer of the lamps trudged on -through the mud and slush, not regarding his path, hardly thinking -of the present moment in the full appreciation of his real misery. -What should he do with himself? What else was there now left to -him? He had tried everything and had failed. As he endeavoured to -count himself up, as it were, and tell himself whether he were -worthy of a happier fate than had been awarded to him, he was very -humble,--humble, though so indignant! He knew himself to be a poor -creature in comparison with Jonathan Stubbs. Though he could not have -been Stubbs had he given his heart for it, though it was absolutely -beyond him to assume one of those tricks of bearing, one of those -manly, winning ways, which in his eyes was so excellent in the other -man, still he saw them and acknowledged them, and told himself that -they would be all powerful with such a girl as Ayala. Though he -trusted to his charms and his rings, he knew that his charms and his -rings were abominable, as compared with that outside look and natural -garniture which belonged to Stubbs, as though of right,--as though it -had been born with him. Not exactly in those words, but with a full -inward sense of the words, he told himself that Colonel Stubbs was a -gentleman,--whereas he acknowledged himself to be a cad. How could -he have hoped that Ayala should accept such a one, merely because he -would have a good house of his own and a carriage? As he thought of -all this, he hardly knew which he hated most,--himself or Jonathan -Stubbs. - -He went down to the family house in Queen's Gate, which was closed -and dark,--having come there with no special purpose, but having -found himself there, as though by accident, in the neighbourhood. -Then he knocked at the door, which, after a great undoing of chains, -was opened by an old woman, who with her son had the custody of the -house when the family were out of town. Sir Thomas in these days had -rooms of his own in Lombard Street in which he loved to dwell, and -would dine at a city club, never leaving the precincts of the city -throughout the week. The old woman was an old servant, and her son -was a porter at the office. "Mr. Tom! Be that you? Why you are as wet -as a mop!" He was wet as any mop, and much dirtier than a mop should -be. There was no fire except in the kitchen, and there he was taken. -He asked for a great coat, but there was no such thing in the house, -as the young man had not yet come home. Nor was there any food that -could be offered him, or anything to drink; as the cellar was locked -up, and the old woman was on board wages. But he sat crouching over -the fire, watching the steam as it came up from his damp boots and -trousers. "And ain't you had no dinner, Mr. Tom?" said the old woman. -Tom only shook his head. "And ain't you going to have none?" The poor -wretch again shook his head. "That's bad, Mr. Tom." Then she looked -up into his face. "There is something wrong I know, Mr. Tom. I hears -that from Jem. Of course he hears what they do be saying in Lombard -Street." - -"What is it they say, Mrs. Tapp?" - -"Well;--that you ain't there as you used to be. Things is awk'ard, -and Sir Thomas, they say, isn't best pleased. But of course it isn't -no affair of mine, Mr. Tom." - -"Do they know why?" he asked. - -"They do say it's some'at about a young lady." - -"Yes; by heavens!" said Tom, jumping up out of his chair. "Oh, Mrs. -Tapp, you can't tell the condition I'm in. A young lady indeed! D---- -the fellow!" - -"Don't 'ee now, Mr. Tom." - -"D---- the fellow! But there's no good in my standing here cursing. -I'll go off again. You needn't say that I've been here, Mrs. Tapp?" - -"But you won't go out into the rain, Mr. Tom?" - -"Rain,--what matters the rain?" Then he started again, disregarding -all her prayers, and went off eastward on foot, disdaining the use -of a cab because he had settled in his mind on no place to which he -would go. - -Yes; they knew all about it, down to the very porters at the office. -Everyone had heard of his love for Ayala; and everyone had heard also -that Ayala had scorned him. Not a man or woman connected by ever so -slight a tie to the establishment was unaware that he had been sent -away from his seat because of Ayala! All this might have been borne -easily had there been any hope; but now he was forced to tell himself -that there was none. He saw no end to his misery,--no possibility of -escape. Where was he to go in this moment of his misery for any shred -of comfort? The solitude of his lodgings was dreadful to him; nor had -he heart enough left to him to seek companionship at his club. - -At about ten o'clock he found himself, as it were, by accident, close -to Mr. Bolivia's establishment. He was thoroughly wet through, jaded, -wretched, and in want of sustenance. He turned in, and found the -place deserted. The diners had gone away, and the hour had not come -at which men in quest of later refreshment were wont to make their -appearance. But there were still one or two gas-lights burning; and -he threw himself wearily into a little box or partition nearest -to the fire. Here Signor Bolivia himself came to him, asking in -commiserating accents what had brought him thither in so wretched a -plight. "I have left my coat and umbrella behind," said Tom, trying -to pluck up a little spirit,--"and my dinner too." - -"No dinner, Mr. Tringle; and you wet through like that! What shall I -get you, Mr. Tringle?" But Tom declared that he would have no dinner. -He was off his appetite altogether, he said. He would have a bottle -of champagne and a devilled biscuit. Mr. Walker, who, as we are -aware, put himself forward to the world generally as Signor Bolivia, -felt for the moment a throb of pity, which overcame in his heart the -innkeeper's natural desire to make the most he could of his customer. -"Better have a mutton chop and a little drop of brandy-and-water -hot." - -"I ain't up to it, Bolivia," said the young man. "I couldn't swallow -it if I had it. Give us the bottle of champagne and the devilled -biscuit." Then Mr. Walker,--for Bolivia was in truth Walker,--fetched -the wine and ordered the biscuit; and poor Tom was again brought back -to the miserable remedy to which he had before applied himself in his -misfortune. There he remained for about an hour, during a part of -which he slept; but before he left the house he finished the wine. -As he got up to take his departure Mr. Walker scanned his gait and -bearing, having a friendly feeling for the young man, and not wishing -him to fall again into the hands of the police. But Tom walked forth -apparently as sober as a judge, and as melancholy as a hangman. As -far as Mr. Walker could see the liquor had made no impression on him. -"If I were you, Mr. Tringle," said the keeper of the eating-house, -"I'd go home at once, because you are so mortal wet." - -"All right," said Tom, going out into the pouring rain. - -It was then something after eleven, and Tom instead of taking the -friendly advice which had been offered to him, walked, as fast as he -could, round Leicester Square; and as he walked the fumes of the wine -mounted into his head. But he was not drunk,--not as yet so drunk as -to misbehave himself openly. He did not make his way round the square -without being addressed, but he simply shook off from him those who -spoke to him. His mind was still intent upon Ayala. But now he was -revengeful rather than despondent. The liquor had filled him once -again with a desire to do something. If he could destroy himself and -the Colonel by one and the same blow, how fitting a punishment would -that be for Ayala! But how was he to do it? He would throw himself -down from the top of the Duke of York's column, but that would be -nothing unless he could force the Colonel to take the jump with him! -He had called the man out and he wouldn't come! Now, with the alcohol -in his brain, he again thought that the man was a coward for not -coming. Had not such a meeting been from time immemorial the resource -of gentlemen injured as he now was injured? The Colonel would not -come when called,--but could he not get at him so as to strike him? -If he could do the man a real injury he would not care what amount of -punishment he might be called upon to bear. - -He hurried at last out of the square into Coventry Street and down -the Haymarket. His lodgings were in Duke Street, turning out of -Piccadilly,--but he could not bring himself to go home to his bed. -He was unutterably wretched, but yet he kept himself going with some -idea of doing something, or of fixing some purpose. He certainly -was tipsy now, but not so drunk as to be unable to keep himself on -his legs. He gloried in the wet, shouting inwardly to himself that -he in his misery was superior to all accidents of the weather. Then -he stood for awhile watching the people as they came out of the -Haymarket Theatre. He was at this time a sorry sight to be seen. His -hat was jammed on to his head and had been almost smashed in the -jamming. His coat reeking wet through was fastened by one button -across his chest. His two hands were thrust into his pockets, and the -bottle of champagne was visible in his face. He was such a one,--to -look at,--that no woman would have liked to touch or any man to -address. In this guise he stood there amidst the crowd, foremost -among those who were watching the ladies as they got into their -vehicles. "And she might be as good as the best of them, and I might -be here to hand her into her own carriage,"--said he to himself,--"if -it were not for that intruder!" - -At that moment the intruder was there before him, and on his arm was -a lady whom he was taking across to a carriage, at the door of which -a servant in livery was standing. They were followed closely by a -pretty young girl who was picking her steps after them alone. These -were Lady Albury and Nina, whom Colonel Stubbs had escorted to the -play. - -"You will be down by the twentieth?" said the elder lady. - -"Punctual as the day comes," said the Colonel. - -"And mind you have Ayala with you," said the younger. - -"If Lady Albury can manage it with her aunt of course I will wait -upon her," said the Colonel. Then the door of the carriage was shut, -and the Colonel was left to look for a cab. He had on an overcoat and -an opera hat, but otherwise was dressed as for dinner. On one side -a link-boy was offering him assistance, and on another a policeman -tendering him some service. He was one of those who by their outward -appearance always extort respect from those around them. - -As long as the ladies had been there,--during the two minutes which -had been occupied while they got into the carriage,--Tom had been -restrained by their presence. He had been restrained by their -presence even though he had heard Ayala's name and had understood the -commission given to the man whom he hated. Had Colonel Stubbs luckily -followed the ladies into the carriage Tom, in his fury, would have -taken himself off to his bed. But now,--there was his enemy within -a yard of him! Here was the opportunity the lack of which seemed, a -few moments since, to be so grievous to him! He took two steps out -from the row in which he stood and struck his rival high on his -breast with his fist. He had aimed at the Colonel's face but in his -eagerness had missed his mark. "There," said he, "there! You would -not fight me, and now you have got it." Stubbs staggered, and would -have fallen but for the policeman. Tom, though no hero, was a strong -young man, and had contrived to give his blow with all his force. The -Colonel did not at first see from whom the outrage had come, but at -once claimed the policeman's help. - -"We've got him, Sir;--we've got him," said the policeman. - -"You've got me," said Tom, "but I've had my revenge." Then, though -two policemen and one waterman were now holding him, he stretched -himself up to his full height and glared at his enemy in the face. - -"It's the chap who gave that hawful blow to Thompson in the bow'ls!" -said one of the policemen, who by this time had both Tom's arms -locked behind his own. - -Then the Colonel knew who had struck him. "I know him," said the -Colonel to the policeman. "It is a matter of no consequence." - -"So do we, Sir. He's Thomas Tringle, junior." - -"He's a friend of mine," said the Colonel. "You must let him come -with me." - -"A friend, is he?" said an amateur attendant. The policeman, who -had remembered the cruel onslaught made on his comrade, looked very -grave, and still held Tom tight by the arms. "A very hugly sort of -friend," said the amateur. Tom only stretched himself still higher, -but remained speechless. - -"Tringle," said the Colonel, "this was very foolish, you know,--a -most absurd thing to do! Come with me, and we will talk it all over." - -"He must come along with us to the watch-house just at present," said -the policeman. "And you, Sir, if you can, had better please to come -with us. It ain't far across to Vine Street, but of course you can -have a cab if you like it." This was ended by two policemen walking -off with Tom between them, and by the Colonel following in a cab, -after having administered divers shillings to the amateur attendants. -Though the journey in the cab did not occupy above five minutes, it -sufficed to enable him to determine what step he should take when he -found himself before the night officers of the watch. - -When he found himself in the presence of the night officer he had -considerable difficulty in carrying out his purpose. That Tom -should be locked up for the night, and be brought before the police -magistrate next morning to answer for the outrage he had committed, -seemed to the officers to be a matter of course. It was long before -the Colonel could persuade the officer that this little matter -between him and Mr. Tringle was a private affair, of which he at -least wished to take no further notice. "No doubt," he said, "he had -received a blow on his chest, but it had not hurt him in the least." - -"'E 'it the gen'leman with all his might and main," said the -policeman. - -"It is quite a private affair," said the Colonel. "My name is Colonel -Stubbs; here is my card. Sir ---- is a particular friend of mine." -Here he named a pundit of the peace, very high in the estimation of -all policemen. "If you will let the gentleman come away with me I -will be responsible for him to-morrow, if it should be necessary -to take any further step in the matter." This he said very eagerly, -and with all the authority which he knew how to use. Tom, in the -meantime, stood perfectly motionless, with his arms folded akimbo on -his breast, wet through, muddy, still tipsy, a sight miserable to -behold. - -The card and the Colonel's own name, and the name of the pundit of -the peace together, had their effect, and after a while Tom was -dismissed in the Colonel's care. The conclusion of the evening's -affair was, for the moment, one which Tom found very hard to bear. It -would have been better for him to have been dragged off to a cell, -and there to have been left to his miserable solitude. But as he went -down through the narrow ways leading from the police-office out into -the main street he felt that he was altogether debarred from making -any further attack upon his protector. He could not strike him again, -as he might have done had he escaped from the police by his own -resources. His own enemy had saved him from durance, and he could -not, therefore, turn again upon his enemy. - -"In heaven's name, my dear fellow," said the Colonel, "what good do -you expect to get by that? You have hit me a blow when you knew that -I was unprepared, and, therefore, unarmed. Was that manly?" To this -Tom made no reply. "I suppose you have been drinking?" And Stubbs, as -he asked this question, looked into his companion's face. "I see you -have been drinking. What a fool you are making of yourself!" - -"It is that girl," said Tom. - -"Does that seem to you to be right? Can you do yourself any good by -that? Will she be more likely to listen to you when she hears that -you have got drunk, and have assaulted me in the street? Have I done -you any harm?" - -"She says that you are better than me," replied Tom. - -"If she does, is that my doing? Come, old fellow, try to be a man. -Try to think of this thing rightly. If you can win the girl you love, -win her; but, if you cannot, do not be such an ass as to suppose that -she is to love no one because she will not love you. It is a thing -which a man must bear if it comes in his way. As far as Miss Dormer -is concerned, I am in the same condition as you. But do you think -that I should attack you in the street if she began to favour you -to-morrow?" - -"I wish she would; and then I shouldn't care what you did." - -"I should think you a happy fellow, certainly; and for a time I -might avoid you, because your happiness would remind me of my own -disappointment; but I should not come behind your back and strike -you! Now, tell me where you live, and I will see you home." Then Tom -told him where he lived, and in a few minutes the Colonel had left -him within his own hall door. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - -THERE IS SOMETHING OF THE ANGEL ABOUT HIM. - - -The little accident which was recorded at the close of the last -chapter occurred on a Tuesday night. On the following afternoon Tom -Tringle, again very much out of spirits, returned to Merle Park. -There was now nothing further for him to do in London. He had had -his last chance with Ayala, and the last chance had certainly done -him no good. Fortune, whether kindly or unkindly, had given him an -opportunity of revenging himself upon the Colonel; he had taken -advantage of the opportunity, but did not find himself much relieved -by what he had done. His rival's conduct had caused him to be -thoroughly ashamed of himself. It had at any rate taken from him all -further hope of revenge. So that now there was nothing for him but to -take himself back to Merle Park. On the Wednesday he heard nothing -further of the matter; but on the Thursday Sir Thomas came down from -London, and, showing to poor Tom a paragraph in one of the morning -papers, asked whether he knew anything of the circumstance to which -reference was made. The paragraph was as follows:-- - - - That very bellicose young City knight who at Christmas - time got into trouble by thrashing a policeman within - an inch of his life in the streets, and who was then - incarcerated on account of his performance, again - exhibited his prowess on Tuesday night by attacking - Colonel ----, an officer than whom none in the army is - more popular,--under the portico of the Haymarket theatre. - We abstain from mentioning the officer's name,--which is, - however, known to us. The City knight again fell into the - hands of the police and was taken to the watch-house. - But Colonel ----, who knew something of his family, - accompanied him, and begged his assailant off. The officer - on duty was most unwilling to let the culprit go; but the - Colonel used all his influence and was successful. This - may be all very well between the generous Colonel and the - valiant knight. But if the young man has any friends they - had better look to him. A gentleman with such a desire - for the glories of battle must be restrained if he cannot - control his propensities when wandering about the streets - of the metropolis. - - -"Yes," said Tom,--who scorned to tell a lie in any matter concerning -Ayala. "It was me. I struck Colonel Stubbs, and he got me off at the -police office." - -"And you're proud of what you've done?" - -"No, Sir, I'm not. I'm not proud of anything. Whatever I do or -whatever I say seems to go against me." - -"He didn't go against you as you call it." - -"I wish he had with all my heart. I didn't ask him to get me off. I -struck him because I hated him; and whatever might have happened I -would sooner have borne it than be like this." - -"You would sooner have been locked up again in prison?" - -"I would sooner anything than be as I am." - -"I tell you what it is, Tom," said the father. "If you remain here -any longer with this bee in your bonnet you will be locked up in a -lunatic asylum, and I shall not be able to get you out again. You -must go abroad." To this Tom made no immediate answer. Lamentable as -was his position, he still was unwilling to leave London while Ayala -was living there. Were he to consent to go away for any lengthened -period, by doing so he would seem to abandon his own claim. Hope he -knew there was none; but yet, even yet, he regarded himself as one of -Ayala's suitors. "Do you think it well," continued the father, "that -you should remain in London while such paragraphs as these are being -written about you?" - -"I am not in London now," said Tom. - -"No, you are not in London while you are at Merle Park,--of course. -And you will not go up to London without my leave. Do you understand -that?" Here Tom again was silent. "If you do," continued his father, -"you shall not be received down here again, nor at Queen's Gate, nor -will the cheques for your allowance be honoured any longer at the -bank. In fact if you do not obey me I will throw you off altogether. -This absurdity about your love has been carried on long enough." And -so it came to be understood in the family that Tom was to be kept in -mild durance at Merle Park till everything should have been arranged -for his extended tour about the world. To this Tom himself gave no -positive assent, but it was understood that when the time came he -would yield to his father's commands. - -It had thus come to pass that the affray at the door of the Haymarket -became known to so much of the world at large as interested itself -in the affairs either of Colonel Stubbs or of the Tringles. Other -paragraphs were written in which the two heroes of the evening were -designated as Colonel J---- S---- and as T---- T----, junior, of the -firm of T---- and T----, in the City. All who pleased could read -these initials, and thus the world was aware that our Colonel had -received a blow, and had resented the affront only by rescuing his -assailant from the hands of the police. A word was said at first -which seemed to imply that the Colonel had not exhibited all the -spirit which might have been expected from him. Having been struck -should he not have thrashed the man who struck him;--or at any rate -have left the ruffian in the hands of the policemen for proper -punishment? But many days had not passed over before the Colonel's -conduct had been viewed in a different light, and men and women -were declaring that he had done a manly and a gallant thing. The -affair had in this way become sufficiently well known to justify -the allusion made to it in the following letter from Lady Albury to -Ayala;-- - - - Stalham, Tuesday, 11th February, 18--. - - MY DEAR AYALA, - - It is quite indispensable for the happiness of everybody, - particularly that of myself and Sir Harry, that you should - come down here on the twentieth. Nina will be here on - her farewell visit before her return to her mother. Of - course you have heard that it is all arranged between - her and Lord George Bideford, and this will be the last - opportunity which any of us will have of seeing her once - again before her martyrdom. The world is to be told - that he is to follow her to Rome, where they are to be - married,--no doubt by the Pope himself under the dome of - St. Peter's. But my belief is that Lord George is going - to travel with her all the way. If he is the man I take - him to be he will do so, but of course it would be very - improper. - - You, however, must of course come and say pretty things - to your friend; and, as you cannot go to Rome to see her - married, you must throw your old shoe after her when she - takes her departure from Stalham. I have written a line - to your aunt to press my request for this visit. This she - will no doubt show to you, and you, if you please, can - show her mine in return. - - And now, my dear, I must explain to you one or two other - arrangements. A certain gentleman will _certainly_ not be - here. It was not my fault that a certain gentleman went to - Kingsbury Crescent. The certain gentleman is, as you are - aware, a great friend of ours, and was entitled to explain - himself if it so seemed good to him; but the certain - gentleman was not favoured in that enterprise by the - Stalham interest. At any rate, the certain gentleman - will not be at Stalham on this occasion. So much for the - certain gentleman. - - Colonel Stubbs will be here, and, as he will be coming - down on the twentieth, would be glad to travel by the same - train, so that he may look after your ticket and your - luggage, and be your slave for the occasion. He will leave - the Paddington Station by the 4 P.M. train if that will - suit you. - - We all think that he behaved beautifully in that little - affair at the Haymarket theatre. I should not mention it - only that everybody has heard of it. Almost any other man - would have struck the poor fellow again; but he is one - of the very few who always know what to do at the moment - without taking time to think of it. - - Mind you come like a good girl.--Your affectionate friend, - - ROSALINE ALBURY. - - -It was in this way that Ayala heard what had taken place between her -cousin Tom and Colonel Stubbs. Some hint of a fracas between the two -men had reached her ears; but now she asked various questions of her -aunt, and at last elicited the truth. Tom had attacked her other -lover in the street,--had attacked Colonel Stubbs because of his -injured love, and had grossly misbehaved himself. As a consequence he -would have been locked up by the police had not the Colonel himself -interfered on his behalf. This to Ayala seemed to be conduct worthy -almost of an Angel of Light. - -Then the question of the proposed visit was discussed,--first with -her aunt, and then with herself. Mrs. Dosett was quite willing that -her niece should go to Stalham. To Mrs. Dosett's thinking, a further -journey to Stalham would mean an engagement with Colonel Stubbs. When -she had read Lady Albury's letter she was quite sure that that had -been Lady Albury's meaning. Captain Batsby was not to receive the -Stalham interest;--but that interest was to be used on the part of -Colonel Stubbs. She had not the slightest objection. It was clear to -her that Ayala would have to be married before long. It was out of -the question that one man after another should fall in love with her -violently, and that nothing should come of it. Mrs. Dosett had become -quite despondent about Tom. There was an amount of dislike which it -would be impossible to overcome. And as for Captain Batsby there -could be no chance for a man whom the young lady could not be induced -even to see. But the other lover, whom the lady would not admit that -she loved,--as to whom she had declared that she could never love -him,--was held in very high favour. "I do think it was so noble not -to hit Tom again," she had said. Therefore, as Colonel Stubbs had a -sufficient income, there could be no reason why Ayala should not go -again to Stalham. So it was that Mrs. Dosett argued with herself, and -such was the judgment which she expressed to Ayala. - -But there were difficulties. Ayala's little stock of cash was all -gone. She could not go to Stalham without money, and that money must -come out of her Uncle Reginald's pocket. She could not go to Stalham -without some expenditure, which, as she well knew, it would be hard -for him to bear. And then there was that terrible question of her -clothes! When that suggestion had been made of a further transfer of -the nieces a cheque had come from Sir Thomas. "If Ayala comes to us -she will want a few things," Sir Thomas had said in a note to Mrs. -Dosett. But Mr. Dosett had chosen that the cheque should be sent back -when it was decided that the further transfer should not take place. -The cheque had been sent back, and there had been an end of it. There -must be a morning dress, and there must be another hat, and there -must be boots. So much Mrs. Dosett acknowledged. Let them do what -they might with the old things, Mrs. Dosett acknowledged that so much -as that would at least be necessary. "We will both go to work," Mrs. -Dosett said, "and we will ask your uncle what he can do for us." I -think she felt that she had received some recompense when Ayala -kissed her. - -It was after this that Ayala discussed the matter with herself. She -had longed to go once again to Stalham,--"dear Stalham," as she -called it to herself. And as she thought of the place she told -herself that she loved it because Lady Albury had been so kind to -her, and because of Nina, and because of the hunting, and because -of the general pleasantness and luxury of the big comfortable house. -And yes; there was something to be said, too, of the pleasantness of -Colonel Stubbs. Till he had made love to her he had been, perhaps, -of all these fine new friends the pleasantest. How joyous his voice -had sounded to her! How fraught with gratification to her had been -his bright ugly face! How well he had known how to talk to her, and -to make her talk, so that everything had been easy with her! How -thoroughly she remembered all his drollery on that first night at -the party in London,--and all his keen sayings at the theatre;--and -the way he had insisted that she should hunt! She thought of little -confidences she had had with him, almost as though he had been her -brother! And then he had destroyed it all by becoming her lover! - -Was he to be her lover still; and if so would it be right that she -should go again to Stalham, knowing that she would meet him there? -Would it be right that she should consent to travel with him,--under -his special escort? Were she to do so would she not be forced to do -more,--if he should again ask her? It was so probable that he would -not ask her again! It was so strange that such a one should have -asked her! - -But if he did ask her? Certainly he was not like that Angel of Light -whom she had never seen, but of whom the picture in her imagination -was as clearly drawn as though she were in his presence daily. -No;--there was a wave of hair and a shape of brow, and a peculiarity -of the eye, with a nose and mouth cut as sharp as chisel could cut -them out of marble, all of which graced the Angel but none of which -belonged to the Colonel. Nor were these the chief of the graces which -made the Angel so glorious to her. There was a depth of poetry about -him, deep and clear, pellucid as a lake among grassy banks, which -make all things of the world mean when compared to it. The Angel of -Light lived on the essence of all that was beautiful, altogether -unalloyed by the grossness of the earth. That such a one should come -in her way! Oh, no; she did not look for it! But, having formed such -an image of an angel for herself, would it be possible that she -should have anything less divine, less beautiful, less angelic? - -Yes; there was something of the Angel about him; even about him, -Colonel Jonathan Stubbs. But he was so clearly an Angel of the earth, -whereas the other one, though living upon the earth, would be of the -air, and of the sky, of the clouds, and of the heaven, celestial. -Such a one she knew she had never seen. She partly dreamed that -she was dreaming. But if so had not her dream spoilt her for all -else? Oh, yes; indeed he was good, this red-haired ugly Stubbs. How -well had he behaved to Tom! How kind he had been to herself! How -thoughtful of her he was! If it were not a question of downright -love,--of giving herself up to him, body and soul, as it were,--how -pleasant would it be to dwell with him! For herself she would confess -that she loved earthly things,--such as jumping over the brook with -Larry Twentyman before her to show her the way. But for her love, it -was necessary that there should be an Angel of Light. Had she not -read that angels had come from heaven and taken in marriage the -daughters of men? - -But was it right that she should go to Stalham, seeing that there -were two such strong reasons against it? She could not go without -costing her uncle money, which he could ill afford; and if she did go -would she--would she not confess that she had abandoned her objection -to the Colonel's suit. She, too, understood something of that which -had made itself so plain to her aunt. "Your uncle thinks it is right -that you should go," her aunt said to her in the drawing-room that -evening; "and we will set to work to-morrow and do the best that we -can to make you smart." - -Her uncle was sitting in the room at the time, and Ayala felt herself -compelled to go to him and kiss him, and thank him for all his -kindness. "I am so sorry to cost you so much money, Uncle Reginald," -she said. - -"It will not be very much, my dear," he answered. "It is hard that -young people should not have some amusement. I only hope they will -make you happy at Stalham." - -"They always make people happy at Stalham," said Ayala, -energetically. - -"And now, Ayala," said her aunt, "you can write your letter to Lady -Albury before we go out to-morrow. Give her my compliments, and tell -her that as you are writing I need not trouble her." - -Ayala, when she was alone in her bedroom, felt almost horrified as -she reflected that in this manner the question had been settled for -her. It had been impossible for her to reject her uncle's liberal -offer when it had been made. She could not find the courage at that -moment to say that she had thought better of it all, and would -decline the visit. Before she was well aware of what she was doing -she had assented, and had thus, as it were, thrown over all the -creations of her dream. And yet, as she declared herself, not even -Lady Albury could make her marry this man, merely because she was -at her house. She thought that, if she could only avoid that first -journey with Colonel Stubbs in the railway, still she might hold her -own. But, were she to travel with him of her own accord, would it not -be felt that she would be wilfully throwing herself in his way? Then -she made a little plan for herself, which she attempted to carry out -when writing her letter to Lady Albury on the following morning. What -was the nature of her plan, and how she effected it, will be seen in -the letter which she wrote;-- - - - Kingsbury Crescent, Thursday. - - DEAR LADY ALBURY, - - It is so very good of you to ask me again, and I shall - be so happy to visit Stalham once more! I should have - been very sorry not to see dear Nina before her return to - Italy. I have written to congratulate her of course, and - have told her what a happy girl I think she is. Though - I have not seen Lord George I take all that from her - description. As she is going to be his wife immediately, - I don't at all see why he should not go back with her to - Rome. As for being married by the Pope, I don't think he - ever does anything so useful as that. I believe he sits - all day and has his toe kissed. That is what they told me - at Rome. - - I am very glad of what you tell me about the certain - gentleman, because I don't think I could have been happy - at Stalham if he had been there. It surprised me so much - that I could not think that he meant it in earnest. We - never hardly spoke to each other when we were in the house - together. - - Perhaps, if you don't mind, and I shan't be in the way, - - ---here she began to display the little plan which she had made for -her own protection,-- - - - I will come down by an earlier train than you mention. - There is one at 2.15, and then I need not be in the dark - all the way. You need not say anything about this to - Colonel Stubbs, because I do not at all mind travelling by - myself.--Yours affectionately, - - AYALA. - - -This was her little plan. But she was very innocent when she thought -that Lady Albury would be blind to such a scheme as that. She got -three words from Lady Albury, saying that the 2.15 train would do -very well, and that the carriage would be at the station to meet her. -Lady Albury did not also say in her note that she had communicated -with Colonel Stubbs on the subject, and informed him that he must -come up from Aldershot earlier than he intended in order that he -might adapt himself to Ayala's whims. "Foolish little child," said -Lady Albury to herself! "As if that would make any difference!" It -was clear to Lady Albury that Ayala must surrender now that she was -coming to Stalham a second time, knowing that the Colonel would be -there. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - -AYALA GOES AGAIN TO STALHAM. - - -The correspondence between Lady Albury and Colonel Stubbs was close -and frequent, the friendship between them being very close. Ayala had -sometimes asked herself why Lady Albury should have been so kind and -affectionate to her, and had failed to find any sufficient answer. -She had been asked to Stalham at first,--so far as she knew,--because -she had been intimate at Rome with the Marchesa Baldoni. Hence had -apparently risen Lady Albury's great friendship, which had seemed -even to herself to be strange. But in truth the Marchesa had had very -little to do with it,--nor had Lady Albury become attached to Ayala -for Ayala's own sake. To Lady Albury Colonel Stubbs was,--as she -declared to herself very often,--"her own real brother." She had -married a man very rich, well known in the world, whom she loved very -well; and she was not a woman who in such a position would allow -herself to love another man. That there might certainly be no danger -of this kind she was continually impressing on her friend the -expediency of marriage,--if only he could find some one good enough -to marry. Then the Colonel had found Ayala. Lady Albury at the -beginning of all this was not inclined to think that Ayala was good -enough. Judging at first from what she heard and then from what she -saw, she had not been very favourable to Ayala. But when her friend -had insisted,--had declared that his happiness depended on it,--had -shown by various signs that he certainly would carry out his -intentions, if not at Stalham then elsewhere, Lady Albury had yielded -herself to him, and had become Ayala's great friend. If it was -written in the book that Ayala was to become Mrs. Stubbs then it -would certainly be necessary that she and Ayala should be friends. -And she herself had such confidence in Jonathan Stubbs as a man of -power, that she did not doubt of his success in any matter to which -he might choose to devote himself. The wonder had been that Ayala -should have rejected the chance when it had come in her way. The girl -had been foolish, allowing herself to be influenced by the man's red -hair and ill-sounding name,--not knowing a real pearl when she saw -it. So Lady Albury had thought,--having only been partially right -in so thinking,--not having gone to the depth of Ayala's power of -dreaming. She was very confident, however, that the girl, when once -again at Stalham, would yield herself easily; and therefore she went -to work, doing all that she could to smoothen love's road for her -friend Jonathan. Her woman's mind had seen all those difficulties -about clothes, and would have sent what was needful herself had -she not feared to offend both the Dosetts and Ayala. Therefore she -prepared a present which she could give to the girl at Stalham -without offence. If it was to be the girl's high fate to become Mrs. -Jonathan Stubbs, it would be proper that she should be adorned and -decked, and made beautiful among others of her class,--as would -become the wife of such a hero. - -Of all that passed between her and Ayala word was sent down to -Aldershot. "The stupid little wretch will throw you out, I know," -wrote Lady Albury, "by making you start two hours before you have -done your work. But you must let your work do itself for this -occasion. There is nothing like a little journey together to make -people understand each other." - -The Colonel was clearly determined to have the little journey -together. Whatever might be the present military duties at Aldershot, -the duties of love were for the nonce in the Colonel's mind more -imperative. Though his Royal Highness had been coming that afternoon -to inspect all the troops, still he would have resolved so to have -arranged matters as to travel down with Ayala to Stalham. But not -only was he determined to do this, but he found it necessary also to -arrange a previous meeting with Lady Albury before that important -twentieth of the month. This he did by making his friend believe that -her presence in London for a few hours would be necessary for various -reasons. She came up as he desired, and there he met her at her -hotel in Jermyn Street. On his arrival here he felt that he was -almost making a fool of himself by the extent of his anxiety. In his -nervousness about this little girl he was almost as insane as poor -Tom Tringle, who, when she despised his love, was altogether unable -to control himself. "If I cannot persuade her at last, I shall be -knocking somebody over the head, as he did." It was thus he was -talking to himself as he got out of the cab at the door of the hotel. - -"And now, Jonathan," said Lady Albury, "what can there possibly be to -justify you in giving me all this trouble?" - -"You know you had to come up about that cook's character." - -"I know that I have given that as a reason to Sir Harry; but I know -also that I should have gone without a cook for a twelvemonth had you -not summoned me." - -"The truth is I could not get down to Stalham and back without losing -an additional day, which I cannot possibly spare. With you it does -not very much matter how many days you spare." - -"Nor how much money I spend, nor how much labour I take, so that I -obey all the commands of Colonel Jonathan Stubbs! What on earth is -there that I can say or do for you more?" - -"There are one or two things," said he, "that I want you to -understand. In the first place, I am quite in earnest about this." - -"Don't I know that you're in earnest?" - -"But perhaps you do not understand the full extent of my earnestness. -If she were to refuse me ultimately I should go away." - -"Go away! Go where?" - -"Oh; that I have not at all thought of;--probably to India, as I -might manage to get a regiment there. But in truth it would matter -very little." - -"You are talking like a goose." - -"That is very likely, because in this matter I think and feel like -a goose. It is not a great thing in a man to be turned out of his -course by some undefined feeling which he has as to a young woman. -But the thing has occurred before now, and will occur again, in my -case, if I am thrown over." - -"What on earth is there about the girl?" asked Lady Albury. "There -is that precious brother-in-law of ours going to hang himself -incontinently because she will not look at him. And that unfortunate -friend of yours, Tom Tringle, is, if possible, worse than Ben Batsby -or yourself." - -"If two other gentlemen are in the same condition it only makes it -the less singular that I should be the third. At any rate, I am the -third." - -"You do not mean to liken yourself to them?" - -"Indeed I do. As to our connection with Miss Dormer, I can see no -difference. We are all in love with her, and she has refused us -all. It matters little whether a man's ugliness or his rings or his -natural stupidity may have brought about this result." - -"You are very modest, Jonathan." - -"I always was, only you never could see it. I am modest in this -matter; but not for that reason the less persistent in doing the -best I can for myself. My object now in seeing you is to let you -understand that it is--well, not life and death, because she will -not suffice either to kill me or to keep me alive,--but one of those -matters which, in a man's career, are almost as important to him as -life and death. She was very decided in her refusal." - -"So is every girl when a first offer is made to her. How is any girl -so to arrange her thoughts at a moment's notice as to accept a man -off-hand?" - -"Girls do do so." - -"Very rarely, I think; and when they do they are hardly worth -having," said Lady Albury, laying down the law on the matter with -great precision. "If a girl accept a man all at once when she has -had, as it were, no preparation for such a proposal, she must always -surely be in a state of great readiness for matrimonial projects. -When there has been a prolonged period of spooning then of course it -is quite a different thing. The whole thing has in fact been arranged -before the important word has been spoken." - -"What a professor in the art you are!" said he. - -"The odd thing is, that such a one as you should be so ignorant. -Can't you understand that she would not come to Stalham if her mind -were made up against you? I said nothing of you as a lover, but I -took care to let her know that you were coming. You are very ready -to put yourself in the same boat with poor Ben Batsby or that other -unfortunate wretch. Would she, do you think, have consented to come -had she known that Ben would have been there, or your friend Tom -Tringle?" - -There was much more of it, but the upshot was,--as the Colonel had -intended that it should be,--that Lady Albury was made to understand -that Ayala's good-will was essential to his happiness. "Of course -I will do my best," she said, as he parted from her. "Though I am -not quite as much in love with her myself as you are, yet I will -do my best." Then when she was left alone, and was prosecuting her -inquiries about the new cook, and travelling back in the afternoon -to Stalham, she again considered how wonderful a thing it was such a -girl as Ayala, so small, apparently so unimportant, so childish in -her manner, with so little to say for herself, should become a person -of such terrible importance. - -The twentieth came, and at ten minutes before two Ayala was at the -Paddington Railway Station. The train, which was to start at 2.15, -had been chosen by herself so that she might avoid the Colonel, and -there she was, with her aunt, waiting for it. Mrs. Dosett had thought -it to be her duty to see her off, and had come with her in the cab. -There were the two boxes laden with her wardrobe, such as it was. -Both she and her aunt had worked hard; for though,--as she had -declared to herself,--there was no special reason for it, still she -had wished to look her best. As she saw the boxes put into the van, -and had told herself how much shabbier they were than the boxes of -other young ladies who went visiting to such houses as Stalham, -she rejoiced that Colonel Stubbs was not there to see them. And -she considered whether it was possible that Colonel Stubbs should -recognise a dress which she had worn at Stalham before, which was -now to appear in a quite altered shape. She wondered also whether it -would be possible that Colonel Stubbs should know how poor she was. -As she was thinking of all this there was Colonel Stubbs on the -platform. - -She had never doubted but that little plan would be efficacious. Nor -had her aunt doubted,--who had seen through the plan, though not a -word had been spoken between them on the subject. Mrs. Dosett had -considered it to be impossible that a Colonel engaged on duties of -importance at Aldershot should run away from them to wait upon a -child like Ayala,--even though he had professed himself to be in love -with the child. She had never seen the Colonel, and on this occasion -did not expect to see him. But there he was, all suddenly, shaking -hands with Ayala. - -"My aunt, Mrs. Dosett," whispered Ayala. Then the Colonel began to -talk to the elder lady as though the younger lady were a person of -very much less importance. Yes; he had run up from Aldershot a little -earlier than he had intended. There had been nothing particular to -keep him down at Aldershot. It had always been his intention to go to -Stalham on this day, and was glad of the accident which was bringing -Miss Dormer there just at the same time. He spent a good deal of his -time at Stalham because Sir Harry and he, who were in truth cousins, -were as intimate as brothers. He always lived at Stalham when he -could get away from duty and was not in London. Stalham was a very -nice place certainly; one of the most comfortable houses he knew in -England. So he went on till he almost made Mrs. Dosett believe, and -did make Ayala believe, that his visit to Stalham had nothing to -do with herself. And yet Mrs. Dosett knew that the offer had been -made. Ayala bethought herself that she did not care so much for the -re-manufactured frock after all, nor yet for the shabby appearance -of the boxes. The real Angel of Light would not care for her frock -nor for her boxes; and certainly would not be indifferent after the -fashion of,--of,--! Then she began to reflect that she was making a -fool of herself. - -She was put into the carriage, Mr. Dosett having luckily decided -against the use of the second class. Going to such a house as Stalham -Ayala ought, said Mr. Dosett, to go as any other lady would. Had it -been himself or his wife it would have been very different; but for -Ayala, on such an occasion as this, he would be extravagant. Ayala -was therefore put into her seat while the Colonel stood at the door -outside, still talking to Mrs. Dosett. "I don't think she will be -let to come away at the end of a week," said the Colonel. "Sir -Harry doesn't like people to come away very soon." Ayala heard this, -and thought that she remembered that Sir Harry himself was very -indifferent as to the coming and going of the visitors. "They go up -to London about the end of March," said the Colonel, "and if Miss -Dormer were to return about a week before it would do very well." - -"Oh, no," said Ayala, putting her head out of the window; "I couldn't -think of staying so long as that." Then the last final bustle was -made by the guard; the Colonel got in, the door was shut, and Mrs. -Dosett, standing on the platform, nodded her head for the last time. - -There were only four persons in the carriage. In the opposite corner -there were two old persons, probably a husband and wife, who had been -very careful as to a foot-warming apparatus, and were muffled up very -closely in woollen and furs. "If you don't mind shutting the door, -Sir," said the old gentleman, rather testily, "because my wife has a -pain in her face." The door absolutely was shut when the words were -spoken, but the Colonel made some sign of closing all the apertures. -But there was a ventilator above, which the old lady spied. "If you -don't mind shutting that hole up there, Sir, because my husband is -very bad with neuralgia." The Colonel at once got up and found that -the ventilator was fast closed, so as not to admit a breath of air. -"There are draughts come in everywhere," said the old gentleman. "The -Company ought to be prosecuted." "I believe the more people they kill -the better they like it," said the old lady. Then the Colonel looked -at Ayala with a very grave face, with no hint at a smile, with a face -which must have gratified even the old lady and gentleman. But Ayala -understood the face, and could not refrain from a little laugh. She -laughed only with her eyes,--but the Colonel saw it. - -"The weather has been very severe all day," said the Colonel, in a -severe voice. - -Ayala protested that she had not found it cold at all. "Then, Miss, I -think you must be made of granite," said the old lady. "I hope you'll -remember that other people are not so fortunate." Ayala again smiled, -and the Colonel made another effort as though to prevent any possible -breath of air from making its way into the interior of the vehicle. - -There was silence among them for some minutes, and then Ayala was -quite surprised by the tone in which her friend addressed her. "What -an ill-natured girl you must be," said he, "to have put me to such a -terrible amount of trouble all on purpose." - -"I didn't," said Ayala. - -"Yes, you did. Why wouldn't you come down by the four o'clock train -as I told you? Now I've left everything undone, and I shouldn't -wonder if I get into such a row at the Horse Guards that I shall -never hear the end of it. And now you are not a bit grateful." - -"Yes, I am grateful; but I didn't want you to come at all," she said. - -"Of course I should come. I didn't think you were so perverse." - -"I'm not perverse, Colonel Stubbs." - -"When young persons are perverse, it is my opinion they oughtn't to -be encouraged," said the old lady from her corner. - -"My dear, you know nothing about it," said the old gentleman. - -"Yes, I do," said the old lady. "I know all about it. Whatever she -does a young lady ought not to be perverse. I do hate perversity. I -am sure that hole up there must be open, Sir, for the wind does come -in so powerful." Colonel Stubbs again jumped up and poked at the -ventilator. - -In the meantime Ayala was laughing so violently that she could with -difficulty prevent herself from making a noise, which, she feared, -would bring down increased wrath upon her from the old lady. That -feigned scolding from the Colonel at once brought back upon her the -feeling of sudden and pleasant intimacy which she had felt when he -had first come and ordered her to dance with him at the ball in -London. It was once again with her as though she knew this man almost -more intimately, and certainly more pleasantly, than any of her other -acquaintances. Whatever he said she could answer him now, and pretend -to scold him, and have her joke with him as though no offer had ever -been made. She could have told him now all the story of that turned -dress, if that subject had come naturally to her, or have laughed -with him at her own old boxes, and confided to him any other of the -troubles of her poverty, as if they were jokes which she could share -at any rate with him. Then he spoke again. "I do abominate a perverse -young woman," he said. Upon this Ayala could no longer constrain -herself, but burst into loud laughter. - -After a while the two old people became quite familiar, and there -arose a contest, in which the lady took part with the Colonel, and -the old man protected Ayala. The Colonel spoke as though he were -quite in earnest, and went on to declare that the young ladies of -the present time were allowed far too much licence. "They never have -their own bread to earn," he said, "and they ought to make themselves -agreeable to other people who have more to do." - -"I quite agree with you, Sir," said the old lady. "They should run -about and be handy. I like to see a girl that can jump about the -house and make herself useful." - -"Young ladies ought to be young ladies," said the old man, putting -his mouth for a moment up out of his comforter. - -"And can't a young lady be useful and yet be a young lady?" said the -Colonel. - -"It is her special province to be ornamental," said the old -gentleman. "I like to see young ladies ornamental. I don't think -young ladies ought to be scolded, even if they are a little -fractious." - -"I quite agree with you, Sir," said Ayala. And so the fight went on -with sundry breaks and changes in the matter under discussion till -the station for Stalham had been reached. The old gentleman, indeed, -seemed to lose his voice before the journey was half over, but -the lady persevered, so that she and the Colonel became such fast -friends that she insisted on shaking hands with him when he left the -carriage. - -"How could you be so wicked as to go on hoaxing her like that?" said -Ayala, as soon as they were on the platform. - -"There was no hoax at all. I was quite in earnest. Was not every word -true that I said? Now come and get into the carriage quickly, or you -will be as bad as the old gentleman himself." - -Ayala did get into the carriage quickly, where she found Nina. - -The two girls were full of conversation as they went to Stalham; but -through it all Ayala could not refrain from thinking how the Jonathan -Stubbs of to-day had been exactly like that Jonathan Stubbs she had -first known,--and how very unlike a lover. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - -CAPTAIN BATSBY AT MERLE PARK. - - -When Ayala went to Stalham Captain Batsby went to Merle Park. They -had both been invited by Lady Tringle, and when the letter was -written to Ayala she was assured that Tom should not be there. At -that time Tom's last encounter with the police had not as yet become -known to the Tringles, and the necessity of keeping Tom at the house -in the country was not manifest. The idea had been that Captain -Batsby should have an opportunity of explaining himself to Ayala. The -Captain came; but, as to Ayala, Mrs. Dosett sent word to say that she -had been invited to stay some days just at that time with her friend -Lady Albury at Stalham. - -What to do with Captain Batsby had been felt to be a difficulty by -Lady Albury. It was his habit to come to Stalham some time in March -and there finish the hunting season. It might be hoped that Ayala's -little affair might be arranged early in March, and then, whether he -came or whether he did not, it would be the same to Ayala. But the -Captain himself would be grievously irate when he should hear the -trick which would have been played upon him. Lady Albury had already -desired him not to come till after the first week in March, having -fabricated an excuse. She had been bound to keep the coast clear both -for Ayala's sake and the Colonel's; but she knew that when her trick -should be discovered there would be unmeasured wrath. "Why the deuce -don't you let the two men come, and then the best man may win!" -said Sir Harry, who did not doubt but that, in such a case, the -Colonel would prove to be the best man. Here too there was another -difficulty. When Lady Albury attempted to explain that Ayala would -not come unless she were told that she would not meet the Captain, -Sir Harry declared that there should be no such favour. "Who the -deuce is this little girl," he asked, "that everybody should be -knocked about in this way for her?" Lady Albury was able to pacify -the husband, but she feared that any pacifying of the Captain would -be impossible. There would be a family quarrel;--but even that must -be endured for the Colonel's sake. - -In the meantime the Captain was kept in absolute ignorance of Ayala's -movements, and went down to Merle Park hoping to meet her there. -He must have been very much in love, for Merle Park was by no -means a spot well adapted for hunting. Hounds there were in the -neighbourhood, but he turned up his nose at the offer when Sir Thomas -suggested that he might bring down a hunter. Captain Batsby, when he -went on hunting exhibitions, never stirred without five horses, and -always confined his operations to six or seven favoured counties. But -Ayala just at present was more to him than hunting, and therefore, -though it was now the end of February, he went to Merle Park. - -"It was all Sir Thomas's doing." It was thus that Lady Tringle -endeavoured to console herself when discussing the matter with her -daughters. The Honourable Septimus Traffick had now gone up to -London, and was inhabiting a single room in the neighbourhood of the -House. Augusta was still at Merle Park, much to the disgust of her -father. He did not like to tell her to be gone; and would indeed have -been glad enough of her presence had it not been embittered by the -feeling that he was being "done." But there she remained, and in -discussing the affairs of the Captain with her mother and Gertrude -was altogether averse to the suggested marriage for Ayala. To her -thinking Ayala was not entitled to a husband at all. Augusta had -never given way in the affair of Tom;--had declared her conviction -that Stubbs had never been in earnest; and was of opinion that -Captain Batsby would be much better off at Merle Park without Ayala -than he would have been in that young lady's presence. When he -arrived nothing was said to him at once about Ayala. Gertrude, -who recovered from the great sickness occasioned by Mr. Houston's -misconduct, though the recovery was intended only to be temporary, -made herself as pleasant as possible. Captain Batsby was made -welcome, and remained three days before he sought an opportunity of -asking a question about Ayala. - -During this time he found Gertrude to be a very agreeable companion, -but he made Mrs. Traffick his first confidant. "Well, you know, -Captain Batsby, to tell you the truth, we are not very fond of our -cousin." - -"Sir Thomas told me she was to be here." - -"So we know. My father is perhaps a little mistaken about Ayala." - -"Was she not asked?" demanded Captain Batsby, beginning to think that -he had been betrayed. - -"Oh, yes; she was asked. She has been asked very often, because she -is mamma's niece, and did live with us once for a short time. But she -did not come. In fact she won't go anywhere, unless--" - -"Unless what?" - -"You know Colonel Stubbs?" - -"Jonathan Stubbs. Oh dear, yes; very intimately. He is a sort of -connection of mine. He is my half-brother's second cousin by the -father's side." - -"Oh indeed! Does that make him very near?" - -"Not at all. I don't like him, if you mean that. He always takes -everything upon himself down at Stalham." - -"What we hear is that Ayala is always running after him." - -"Ayala running after Jonathan?" - -"Haven't you heard of that?" asked Mrs. Traffick. "Why;--she is at -Stalham with the Alburys this moment, and I do not doubt that Colonel -Stubbs is there also. She would not have gone had she not been sure -of meeting him." - -This disturbed the Captain so violently that for two or three hours -he kept himself apart, not knowing what to do with himself or where -to betake himself. Could this be true about Jonathan Stubbs? There -had been moments of deep jealousy down at Stalham; but then he had -recovered from that, having assured himself that he was wrong. It -had been Larry Twentyman and not Jonathan Stubbs who had led the two -girls over the brook,--into which Stubbs had simply fallen, making -himself an object of pity. But now again the Captain believed it all. -It was on this account, then, that his half-sister-in-law, Rosaline, -had desired him to stay away from Stalham for the present! He knew -well how high in favour with Lady Albury was that traitor Stubbs; -how it was by her favour that Stubbs, who was no more than a second -cousin, was allowed to do just what he pleased in the stables, while -Sir Harry himself, the master of the hounds, confined himself to -the kennel! He was determined at first to leave Merle Park and -start instantly for Stalham, and had sent for his servant to begin -the packing of his things; but as he thought of it more maturely -he considered that his arrival at Stalham would be very painful -to himself as well as to others. For the others he did not much -care, but he saw clearly that the pain to himself would be very -disagreeable. No one at Stalham would be glad to see him. Sir Harry -would be disturbed, and the other three persons with whom he was -concerned,--Lady Albury, Stubbs, and Ayala,--would be banded together -in hostility against him. What chance would he have under such -circumstances? Therefore he determined that he would stay at Merle -Park yet a little longer. - -And, after all, was Ayala worth the trouble which he had proposed to -take for her? How much had he offered her, how scornfully had his -offer been received, and how little had she to give him in return! -And now he had been told that she was always running after Jonathan -Stubbs! Could it be worth his while to run after a girl who was -always running after Jonathan Stubbs? Was he not much higher in the -world than Jonathan Stubbs, seeing that he had, at any rate, double -Stubbs's income? Stubbs was a red-haired, ugly, impudent fellow, who -made his way wherever he went simply by "cheek"! Upon reflection, he -found that it would be quite beneath him to run after any girl who -could so demean herself as to run after Jonathan Stubbs. Therefore he -came down to dinner on that evening with all his smiles, and said not -a word about Ayala to Sir Thomas, who had just returned from London. - -"Is he very much provoked?" Sir Thomas asked his wife that evening. - -"Provoked about what?" - -"He was expressly told that he would meet Ayala here." - -"He seems to be making himself very comfortable, and hasn't said a -word to me about Ayala. I am sick of Ayala. Poor Tom is going to be -really ill." Then Sir Thomas frowned, and said nothing more on that -occasion. - -Tom was certainly in an uncomfortable position, and never left his -bed till after noon. Then he would mope about the place, moping even -worse than he did before, and would spend the evening all alone in -the housekeeper's room, with a pipe in his mouth, which he seemed -hardly able to take the trouble to keep alight. There were three -or four other guests in the house, including two Honourable Miss -Trafficks, and a couple of young men out of the City, whom Lady -Tringle hoped might act as antidotes to Houston and Hamel. But with -none of them would Tom associate. With Captain Batsby he did form -some little intimacy; driven to it, no doubt, by a community of -interest. "I believe you were acquainted with my cousin, Miss Dormer, -at Stalham?" asked Tom. At the moment the two were sitting over the -fire in the housekeeper's room, and Captain Batsby was smoking a -cigar, while Tom was sucking an empty pipe. - -"Oh, yes," said Captain Batsby, pricking up his ears, "I saw a good -deal of her." - -"A wonderful creature!" ejaculated Tom. - -"Yes, indeed!" - -"For a real romantic style of beauty, I don't suppose that the world -ever saw her like before. Did you?" - -"Are you one among your cousin's admirers?" demanded the Captain. - -"Am I?" asked Tom, surprised that there should be anybody who had -not as yet heard his tragic story. "Am I one of her admirers? -Why,--rather! Haven't you heard about me and Stubbs?" - -"No, indeed." - -"I thought that everybody had heard that. I challenged him, you -know." - -"To fight a duel?" - -"Yes; to fight a duel. I sent my friend Faddle down with a letter to -Stalham, but it was of no use. Why should a man fight a duel when he -has got such a girl as Ayala to love him?" - -"That is quite true, then?" - -"I fear so! I fear so! Oh, yes; it is too true. Then you know;"--and -as he came to this portion of his story he jumped up from his chair -and frowned fiercely;--"then, you know, I met him under the portico -of the Haymarket, and struck him." - -"Oh,--was that you?" - -"Indeed it was." - -"And he did not do anything to you?" - -"He behaved like a hero," said Tom. "I do think that he behaved like -a hero,--though of course I hate him." The bitterness of expression -was here very great. "He wouldn't let them lock me up. Though, in -the matter of that, I should have been best pleased if they would -have locked me up for ever, and kept me from the sight of the world. -Admire that girl, Captain Batsby! I don't think that I ever heard of -a man who loved a girl as I love her. I do not hesitate to say that I -continue to walk the world,--in the way of not committing suicide, I -mean,--simply because there is still a possibility while she has not -as yet stood at the hymeneal altar with another man. I would have -shot Stubbs willingly, though I knew I was to be tried for it at the -Old Bailey,--and hung! I would have done it willingly,--willingly; or -any other man." After that Captain Batsby thought it might be prudent -not to say anything especial as to his own love. - -And how foolish would it be for a man like himself, with a good -fortune of his own, to marry any girl who had not a sixpence! -The Captain was led into this vain thought by the great civility -displayed to him by the ladies of the house. With Lucy, whom he knew -to be Ayala's sister, he had not prospered very well. It came to -his ears that she was out of favour with her aunt, and he therefore -meddled with her but little. The Tringle ladies, however, were very -kind to him,--so kind that he was tempted to think less than ever of -one who had been so little courteous to him as Ayala. Mrs. Traffick -was of course a married woman, and it amounted to nothing. But -Gertrude--! All the world knew that Septimus Traffick without a -shilling of his own had become the happy possessor of a very large -sum of money. He, Batsby, had more to recommend him than Traffick! -Why should not he also become a happy possessor? He went away for a -week's hunting into Northamptonshire, and then, at Lady Tringle's -request, came back to Merle Park. - -At this time Miss Tringle had quite recovered her health. She had -dropped all immediate speech as to Mr. Houston. Had she not been -provoked, she would have allowed all that to drop into oblivion. But -a married sister may take liberties. "You are well rid of him, I -think," said Augusta. Gertrude heaved a deep sigh. She did not wish -to acknowledge herself to be rid of him until another string were -well fitted to her bow. "After all, a man with nothing to do in the -world, with no profession, no occupation, with no money--" - -"Mr. Traffick had not got very much money of his own." - -"He has a seat in Parliament, which is very much more than fortune, -and will undoubtedly be in power when his party comes in. And he is a -man of birth. But Frank Houston had nothing to recommend him." - -"Birth!" said Gertrude, turning up her nose. - -"The Queen, who is the fountain of honour, made his father a -nobleman, and that constitutes birth." This the married sister -said with stern severity of manner, and perfect reliance on the -constitutional privileges of her Sovereign. - -"I don't know that we need talk about it," said Gertrude. - -"Not at all. Mr. Houston has behaved very badly, and I suppose there -is an end of him as far as this house is concerned. Captain Batsby -seems to me to be a very nice young man, and I suppose he has got -money. A man should certainly have got money,--or an occupation." - -"He has got both," said Gertrude, which, however, was not true, as -Captain Batsby had left the service. - - - * * * * * * - - -"Have you forgotten my cousin so soon?" Gertrude asked one day, as -she was walking with the happy Captain in the park. The Captain, no -doubt, had been saying soft things to her. - -"Do you throw that in my teeth as an offence?" - -"Inconstancy in men is generally considered as an offence," said -Gertrude. What it might be in women she did not just then declare. - -"After all I have heard of your cousin since I have been here, I -should hardly have thought that it would be reckoned so in this -case." - -"You have heard nothing against her from me." - -"I am told that she has treated your brother very badly." - -"Poor Tom!" - -"And that she is flirting with a man I particularly dislike." - -"I suppose she does make herself rather peculiar with that Colonel -Stubbs." - -"And, after all, only think how little I saw of her! She is pretty." - -"So some people think. I never saw it myself," said Gertrude. "We -always thought her a mass of affectation. We had to turn her out of -the house once you know. She was living here, and then it was that -her sister had to come in her place. It is not their fault that they -have got nothing;--poor girls! They are mamma's nieces, and so papa -always has one of them." After that forgiveness was accorded to the -Captain on account of his fickle conduct, and Gertrude consented to -accept of his services in the guise of a lover. That this was so Mrs. -Traffick was well aware. Nor was Lady Tringle very much in the dark. -Frank Houston was to be considered as good as gone, and if so it -would be well that her daughter should have another string. She -was tired of the troubles of the girls around her, and thought -that as Captain Batsby was supposed to have an income he would do -as a son-in-law. But she had not hitherto been consulted by the -young people, who felt among themselves that there still might be -a difficulty. The difficulty lay with Sir Thomas. Sir Thomas had -brought Captain Batsby there to Merle Park as Ayala's lover, and as -he had been very little at home was unaware of the changes which -had taken place. And then Gertrude was still supposed to be engaged -to Mr. Houston, although this lover had been so violently rejected -by himself. The ladies felt that, as he was made of sterner stuff -than they, so would it be more difficult to reconcile him to the -alterations which were now proposed in the family arrangements. Who -was to bell the cat? "Let him go to papa in the usual way, and ask -his leave," said Mrs. Traffick. - -"I did suggest that," said Gertrude, "but he seems not to like to do -it quite yet." - -"Is he such a coward as that?" - -"I do not know that he is more a coward than anybody else. I remember -when Septimus was quite afraid to go near papa. But then Benjamin has -got money of his own, which does make a difference." - -"It's quite untrue saying that Septimus was ever afraid of papa. Of -course he knows his position as a Member of Parliament too well for -that. I suppose the truth is, it's about Ayala." - -"It is a little odd about Ayala," said Gertrude, resuming her -confidential tone. "It is so hard to make papa understand about these -kind of things. I declare I believe he thinks that I never ought to -speak to another man because of that scoundrel Frank Houston." - -All this was in truth so strange to Sir Thomas that he could not -understand any of the existing perplexities. Why did Captain Batsby -remain as a guest at Merle Park? He had no special dislike to the -man, and when Lady Tringle had told him that she had asked the -Captain to prolong his visit he had made no objection. But why should -the man remain there, knowing as he did now that there was no chance -of Ayala's coming to Merle Park? At last, on a certain Saturday -evening, he did make inquiry on the subject. "What on earth is that -man staying here for?" he said to his wife. - -"I think he likes the place." - -"Perhaps he likes the place as well as Septimus Traffick, and means -to live here always!" Such allusions as these were constant with Sir -Thomas, and were always received by Lady Tringle with dismay and -grief. "When does he mean to go away?" asked Sir Thomas, gruffly. - -Lady Tringle had felt that the time had come in which some word -should be said as to the Captain's intentions; but she feared to -say it. She dreaded to make the clear explanation to her husband. -"Perhaps," said she, "he is becoming fond of some of the young -ladies." - -"Young ladies! What young ladies? Do you mean Lucy?" - -"Oh dear no!" said Lady Tringle. - -"Then what the deuce do you mean? He came here after Ayala, because -I wanted to have all that nonsense settled about Tom. Ayala is not -here, nor likely to be here; and I don't know why he should stay here -philandering away his time. I hate men in a country-house who are -thorough idlers. You had better take an opportunity of letting him -know that he has been here long enough." - -All this was repeated by Lady Tringle to Mrs. Traffick, and by Mrs. -Traffick to Gertrude. Then they felt that this was no time for -Captain Batsby to produce himself to Sir Thomas as a suitor for his -youngest daughter. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - -THE JOURNEY TO OSTEND. - - -"No doubt it will be very hard to make papa understand." This was -said by Gertrude to her new lover a few days after that order had -been given that the lover should be sent away from Merle Park. The -purport of the order in all its severity had not been conveyed -to Captain Batsby. The ladies had felt,--Gertrude had felt very -strongly,--that were he informed that the master of the house -demanded his absence he would take himself off at once. But still -something had to be said,--and something done. Captain Batsby was, -just at present, in a matrimonial frame of mind. He had come to Merle -Park to look for a wife, and, as he had missed one, was, in his -present mood, inclined to take another. But there was no knowing -how long this might last. Augusta had hinted that "something must -be done, either with papa's consent or without it." Then there had -come the conversation in which Gertrude acknowledged the existing -difficulty. "Papa, too probably, would not consent quite at once." - -"He must think it very odd that I am staying here," said the Captain. - -"Of course it is odd. If you could go to him and tell him -everything!" But the Captain, looking at the matter all round, -thought that he could not go to Sir Thomas and tell him anything. -Then she began gently to introduce the respectable clergyman at -Ostend. It was not necessary that she should refer at length to the -circumstances under which she had studied the subject, but she gave -Captain Batsby to understand that it was one as to which she had -picked up a good deal of information. - -But the money! "If Sir Thomas were made really angry, the -consequences would be disastrous," said the Captain. But Gertrude was -of a different way of thinking. Her father was, no doubt, a man who -could be very imperious, and would insist upon having his own way -as long as his own way was profitable to him. But he was a man who -always forgave. - -"If you mean about the money," said Gertrude, "I am quite sure -that it would all come right." He did mean about the money, and -was evidently uneasy in his mind when the suggested step was made -manifest to him. Gertrude was astonished to see how long and -melancholy his face could become. "Papa was never unkind about money -in his life," said Gertrude. "He could not endure to have any of us -poor." - -On the next Saturday Sir Thomas again came down, and still found his -guest at Merle Park. We are now a little in advance of our special -story, which is, or ought to be, devoted to Ayala. But, with the -affairs of so many lovers and their loves, it is almost impossible to -make the chronicle run at equal periods throughout. It was now more -than three weeks since Ayala went to Stalham, and Lady Albury had -written to the Captain confessing something of her sin, and begging -to be forgiven. This she had done in her anxiety to keep the Captain -away. He had not answered his sister-in-law's letter, but, in his -present frame of mind, was not at all anxious to finish up the -hunting-season at Stalham. Sir Thomas, on his arrival, was very full -of Tom's projected tour. He had arranged everything,--except in -regard to Tom's own assent. He had written to New York, and had -received back a reply from his correspondent assuring him that Tom -should be made most heartily welcome. It might be that Tom's fighting -propensities had not been made known to the people of New York. Sir -Thomas had taken a berth on board of one of the Cunard boats, and had -even gone so far as to ask the Captain to come down for a day or two -to Merle Park. He was so much employed with Tom that he could hardly -afford time and consideration to Captain Batsby and his affairs. -Nevertheless he did ask a question, and received an answer with which -he seemed to be satisfied. "What on earth is that man staying here -for?" he said to his wife. - -"He is going on Friday," replied Lady Tringle, doubtingly;--almost -as though she thought that she would be subjected to further anger -because of this delay. But Sir Thomas dropped the subject, and passed -on to some matter affecting Tom's outfit. Lady Tringle was very -glad to change the subject, and promised that everything should be -supplied befitting the hottest and coldest climates on the earth's -surface. - -"She sails on the nineteenth of April," said Sir Thomas to his son. - -"I don't think I could go as soon as that, Sir," replied Tom, -whining. - -"Why not? There are more than three weeks yet, and your mother will -have everything ready for you. What on earth is there to hinder you?" - -"I don't think I could go--not on the nineteenth of April." - -"Well then, you must. I have taken your place, and Firkin expects you -at New York. They'll do everything for you there, and you'll find -quite a new life. I should have thought you'd have been delighted to -get away from your wretched condition here." - -"It is wretched," said Tom; "but I'd rather not go quite so soon." - -"Why not?" - -"Well, then--" - -"What is it, Tom? It makes me unhappy when I see you such a fool." - -"I am a fool! I know I am a fool!" - -"Then make a new start of it. Cut and run, and begin the world again. -You're young enough to forget all this." - -"So I would, only--" - -"Only what?" - -"I suppose she is engaged to that man Stubbs! If I knew it for -certain then I would go. If I went before, I should only come back as -soon as I got to New York. If they were once married and it were all -done with I think I could make a new start." - -In answer to this his father told him that he must go on the -nineteenth of April, whether Ayala were engaged or disengaged, -married or unmarried;--that his outfit would be bought, his cabin -would be ready, circular notes for his use would be prepared, -and everything would be arranged to make his prolonged tour as -comfortable as possible; but that if he did not start on that day -all the Tringle houses would be closed against him, and he would be -turned penniless out into the world. "You'll have to learn that I'm -in earnest," said Sir Thomas, as he turned his back and walked away. -Tom took himself off to reflect whether it would not be a grand thing -to be turned penniless out into the world,--and all for love! - -By the early train on Monday Sir Thomas returned to London, having -taken little or no heed of Captain Batsby during his late visit to -the country. Even at Merle Park Captain Batsby's presence was less -important than it would otherwise have been to Lady Tringle and Mrs. -Traffick, because of the serious nature of Sir Thomas's decision as -to his son. Lady Tringle perhaps suspected something. Mrs. Traffick, -no doubt, had her own ideas as to her sister's position; but nothing -was said and nothing was done. Both on the Wednesday and on the -Thursday Lady Tringle went up to town to give the required orders on -Tom's behalf. On the Thursday her elder daughter accompanied her, and -returned with her in the evening. On their arrival they learnt that -neither Captain Batsby nor Miss Gertrude had been seen since ten -o'clock; that almost immediately after Lady Tringle's departure in -the morning Captain Batsby had caused all his luggage to be sent into -Hastings; and that it had since appeared that a considerable number -of Miss Gertrude's things were missing. There could be no doubt that -she had caused them to be packed up with the Captain's luggage. "They -have gone to Ostend, mamma," said Augusta. "I was sure of it, because -I've heard Gertrude say that people can always get themselves married -at Ostend. There is a clergyman there on purpose to do it." - -It was at this time past seven o'clock, and Lady Tringle when she -heard the news was so astounded that she did not at first know how -to act. It was not possible for her to reach Dover that night before -the night-boat for Ostend should have started,--even could she have -done any good by going there. Tom was in such a condition that she -hardly dared to trust him; but it was settled at last that she should -telegraph at once to Sir Thomas, in Lombard Street, and that Tom -should travel up to London by the night train. - -On the following morning Lady Tringle received a letter from -Gertrude, posted by that young lady at Dover as she passed through on -her road to Ostend. It was as follows;-- - - - DEAR MAMMA, - - You will be surprised on your return from London to - find that we have gone. After much thinking about it we - determined it would be best, because we had quite made - up our mind _not to be kept separated_. Ben was so eager - about it that I was obliged to yield. We were afraid that - if we asked papa at once he would not have given his - consent. Pray give him my most dutiful love, and tell him - that I am sure he will never have occasion to be ashamed - of his son-in-law. I don't suppose he knows, but it is - the fact that Captain Batsby has about three thousand a - year of his own. It is very different from having nothing, - like that wretch Frank Houston, or, for that matter, Mr. - Traffick. Ben was quite in a position to ask papa, but - things had happened which made us both feel that papa - would not like it just at present. We mean to be married - at Ostend, and then will come back as soon as you and papa - say that you will receive us. In the meantime I wish you - would send some of my clothes after me. Of course I had to - come away with very little luggage, because I was obliged - to have my things mixed up with Ben's. I did not dare to - have my boxes brought down by the servants. Could you send - me the green silk in which I went to church the last two - Sundays, and my pink gauze, and the grey poplin? Please - send two or three flannel petticoats, as I could not put - them among his things, and as many cuffs and collars as - you can cram in. I suppose I can get boots at Ostend, - but I should like to have the hat with the little brown - feather. There is my silk jacket with the fur trimming; - I should like to have that. I suppose I shall have to be - married without any regular dress, but I am sure papa will - make up my trousseau to me afterwards. I lent a little - lace fichu to Augusta; tell her that I shall so like to - have it. - - Give papa my best love, and Augusta, and poor Tom, and - accept the same from your affectionate daughter, - - GERTRUDE. - - I suppose I must not add the other name yet. - - -Sir Thomas did not receive the telegram till eleven o'clock, when he -returned from dinner, and could do nothing that night. On the next -morning he was disturbed soon after five o'clock by Tom, who had come -on the same errand. "Idiots!" exclaimed Sir Thomas, "What on earth -can they have gone to Ostend for? And what can you do by coming up?" - -"My mother thought that I might follow them to Ostend." - -"They wouldn't care for you. No one will care for you until you have -got rid of all this folly. I must go. Idiots! Who is to marry them at -Ostend? If they are fools enough to want to be married, why shouldn't -they get married in England?" - -"I suppose they thought you wouldn't consent." - -"Of course I shan't consent. But why should I consent a bit more -because they have gone to Ostend? I don't suppose anybody ever had -such a set of fools about him as I have." This would have been hard -upon Tom had it not been that he had got beyond the feeling of any -hardness from contempt or contumely. As he once said of himself, -all sense of other injury had been washed out of him by Ayala's -unkindness. - -On that very day Sir Thomas started for Ostend, and reached the place -about two o'clock. Captain Batsby and Gertrude had arrived only -during the previous night, and Gertrude, as she had been very sick, -was still in bed. Captain Batsby was not in bed. Captain Batsby had -been engaged since an early hour in the morning looking for that -respectable clergyman of the Church of England of whose immediate -services he stood in need. By the time that Sir Thomas had reached -Ostend he had found that no such clergyman was known in the place. -There was a regular English clergyman who would be very happy to -marry him,--and to accept the usual fees,--after the due performance -of certain preliminaries as ordained by the law, and as usual at -Ostend. The lady, no doubt, could be married at Ostend, after such -preliminaries,--as she might have been married also in England. All -this was communicated by the Captain to Gertrude,--who was still very -unwell,--at her bedroom door. Her conduct during this trying time was -quite beyond reproach,--and also his,--as Captain Batsby afterwards -took an opportunity of assuring her father. - -"What on earth, Sir, is the meaning of all this?" said Sir Thomas, -encountering the man who was not his son-in-law in the sitting-room -of the hotel. - -"I have just run away with your daughter, Sir Thomas. That is the -simple truth." - -"And I have got the trouble of taking her back again." - -"I have behaved like a gentleman through it all, Sir Thomas," said -the Captain, thus defending his own character and the lady's. - -"You have behaved like a fool. What on earth am I to think of -it, Sir? You were asked down to my house because you gave me to -understand that you proposed to ask my niece, Miss Dormer, to be your -wife; and now you have run away with my daughter. Is that behaviour -like a gentleman?" - -"I must explain myself?" - -"Well, Sir?" Captain Batsby found the explanation very difficult; and -hummed and hawed a great deal. "Do you mean to say that it was a lie -from beginning to end about Miss Dormer?" Great liberties of speech -are allowed to gentlemen whose daughters have been run away with, and -whose hospitality has been outraged. - -"Oh dear no. What I said then was quite true. It was my intention. -But--but--." The perspiration broke out upon the unhappy man's brow -as the great immediate trouble of his situation became clear to him. -"There was no lie,--no lie at all. I beg to assure you, Sir Thomas, -that I am not a man to tell a lie." - -"How has it all been, then?" - -"When I found how very superior a person your daughter was!" - -"It isn't a month since she was engaged to somebody else," said the -angry father, forgetting all propriety in his indignation. - -"Gertrude?" demanded Captain Batsby. - -"You are two fools. So you gave up my niece?" - -"Oh dear yes, altogether. She didn't come to Merle Park, you know. -How was I to say anything to her when you didn't have her there?" - -"Why didn't you go away then, instead of remaining under a false -pretence? Or why, at any rate, didn't you tell me the truth?" - -"And what would you have me to do now?" asked Captain Batsby. - -"Go to the d----," said Sir Thomas, as he left the room, and went to -his daughter's chamber. - -Gertrude had heard that her father was in the house, and endeavoured -to hurry herself into her clothes while the interview was going on -between him and her father. But she was not yet perfectly arrayed -when her father burst into her room. "Oh, papa," she said, going down -on her knees, "you do mean to forgive us?" - -"I mean to do nothing of the kind. I mean to carry you home and have -you locked up." - -"But we may be married!" - -"Not with my leave. Why didn't you come and ask if you wanted to get -yourselves married? Why didn't you tell me?" - -"We were ashamed." - -"What has become of Mr. Houston, whom you loved so dearly?" - -"Oh, papa!" - -"And the Captain was so much attached to Ayala!" - -"Oh, papa!" - -"Get up, you stupid girl. Why is it that my children are so much more -foolish than other people's? I don't suppose you care for the man in -the least." - -"I do, I do. I love him with all my heart." - -"And as for him,--how can he care for you when it is but the other -day he was in love with your cousin?" - -"Oh, papa!" - -"What he wants is my money, of course." - -"He has got plenty of money, papa." - -"I can understand him, fool as he is. There is something for him to -get. He won't get it, but he might think it possible. As for you, -I cannot understand you at all. What do you expect? It can't be for -love of a hatchet-faced fellow like that, whom you had never seen a -fortnight ago." - -"It is more than a month ago, papa." - -"Frank Houston was, at any rate, a manly-looking fellow." - -"He was a scoundrel," said Gertrude, now standing up for the first -time. - -"A good-looking fellow was Frank Houston; that at least may be said -for him," continued the father, determined to exasperate his daughter -to the utmost. "I had half a mind to give way about him, because he -was a manly, outspoken fellow, though he was such an idle dog. If -you'd gone off with him, I could have understood it;--and perhaps -forgiven it," he added. - -"He was a scoundrel!" screamed Gertrude, remembering her ineffectual -attempts to make her former lover perform this same journey. - -"But this fellow! I cannot bring myself to believe that you really -care for him." - -"He has a good income of his own, while Houston was little better -than a beggar." - -"I'm glad of that," said Sir Thomas, "because there will be something -for you to live upon. I can assure you that Captain Batsby will never -get a shilling of my money. Now, you had better finish dressing -yourself, and come down and eat your dinner with me if you've got any -appetite. You will have to go back to Dover by the boat to-night." - -"May Ben dine with us?" asked Gertrude, timidly. - -"Ben may go to the d----. At any rate he had better not show himself -to me again," said Sir Thomas. - -The lovers, however, did get an opportunity of exchanging a few -words, during which it was settled between them that as the young -lady must undoubtedly obey her father's behests, and return to Dover -that night, it would be well for Captain Batsby to remain behind at -Ostend. Indeed, he spoke of making a little tour as far as Brussels, -in order that he might throw off the melancholy feelings which had -been engendered. "You will come to me again, Ben," she said. Upon -this he looked very grave. "You do not mean to say that after all -this you will desert me?" - -"He has insulted me so horribly!" - -"What does that signify? Of course he is angry. If you could only -hear how he has insulted me." - -"He says that you were in love with somebody else not a month since." - -"So were you, Ben, for the matter of that." He did, however, before -they parted, make her a solemn promise that their engagement should -remain an established fact, in spite both of father and mother. - -Gertrude, who had now recovered the effects of her -sea-sickness,--which, however, she would have to encounter again -so very quickly,--contrived to eat a hearty dinner with her father. -There, however, arose a little trouble. How should she contrive to -pack up the clothes which she had brought with her, and which had -till lately been mixed with the Captain's garments. She did, however, -at last succeed in persuading the chamber-maid to furnish her with -a carpet-bag, with which in her custody she arrived safely on the -following day at Merle Park. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX. - -THE NEW FROCK. - - -Ayala's arrival at Stalham was full of delight to her. There was -Nina with all her new-fledged hopes and her perfect assurance in the -absolute superiority of Lord George Bideford to any other man either -alive or dead. Ayala was quite willing to allow this assurance to -pass current, as her Angel of Light was as yet neither alive nor -dead. But she was quite certain,--wholly certain,--that when the -Angel should come forth he would be superior to Lord George. The -first outpouring of all this took place in the carriage as Nina and -Ayala were driven from the station to the house, while the Colonel -went home alone in a dog-cart. It had been arranged that nothing -should be said to Ayala about the Colonel, and in the carriage the -Colonel's name was not mentioned. But when they were all in the -hall at Stalham, taking off their cloaks and depositing their wraps, -standing in front of the large fire, Colonel Stubbs was there. Lady -Albury was present also, welcoming her guests, and Sir Harry, who -had already come home from hunting, with one or two other men in red -coats and top breeches, and a small bevy of ladies who were staying -in the house. Lady Albury was anxious to know how her friend had -sped with Ayala, but at such a moment no question could be asked. -But Ayala's spirits were so high that Lady Albury was at a loss to -understand whether the whole thing had been settled by Jonathan with -success,--or whether, on the other hand, Ayala was so happy because -she had not been troubled by a word of love. - -"He has behaved so badly, Lady Albury," said Ayala. - -"What;--Stubbs?" asked Sir Harry, not quite understanding all the ins -and outs of the matter. - -"Yes, Sir Harry. There was an old lady and an old gentleman. They -were very funny and he would laugh at them." - -"I deny it," said the Colonel. - -"Why shouldn't he laugh at them if they were funny?" asked Lady -Albury. - -"He knew it would make me laugh out loud. I couldn't help myself, but -he could be as grave as a judge all the time. So he went till the old -woman scolded me dreadfully." - -"But the old man took your part," said the Colonel. - -"Yes;--he did. He said that I was ornamental." - -"A decent and truth-speaking old gentleman," said one of the -sportsmen in top-boots. - -"Quite so;--but then the old lady said that I was perverse, and -Colonel Stubbs took her part. If you had been there, Lady Albury, you -would have thought that he had been in earnest." - -"So I was," said the Colonel. - -All this was very pleasant to Ayala. It was a return to the old -joyousness when she had first discovered the delight of having such a -friend as Colonel Stubbs. Had he flattered her, paid her compliments, -been soft and delicate to her,--as a lover might have been,--she -would have been troubled in spirit and heavy at heart. But now it -seemed as though all that love-making had been an episode which had -passed away, and that the old pleasant friendship still remained. -As yet, while they were standing there in the hall, there had come -no moment for her to feel whether there was anything to regret in -this. But certainly there had been comfort in it. She had been able -to appear before all her Stalham friends, in the presence even of -the man himself, without any of that consciousness which would have -oppressed her had he come there simply as her acknowledged lover, and -had she come there conscious before all the guests that it was so. - -Then they sat for a while drinking tea and eating buttered toast in -the drawing-room. A supply of buttered toast fully to gratify the -wants of three or four men just home from hunting has never yet been -created by the resources of any establishment. But the greater marvel -is that the buttered toast has never the slightest effect on the -dinner which is to follow in an hour or two. During this period the -conversation turned chiefly upon hunting,--which is of all subjects -the most imperious. It never occurs to a hunting-man to suppose -that either a lady, or a bishop, or a political economist, can be -indifferent to hunting. There is something beyond millinery,--beyond -the interests of the church,--beyond the price of wheat,--in that -great question whether the hounds did or did not change their fox in -Gobblegoose Wood. On the present occasion Sir Harry was quite sure -that the hounds did carry their fox through Gobblegoose Wood, whereas -Captain Glomax, who had formerly been master of the pack which now -obeyed Sir Harry, was perfectly certain that they had got upon -another animal, who went away from Gobblegoose as fresh as paint. He -pretended even to ridicule Sir Harry for supposing that any fox could -have run at that pace up Buddlecombe Hill who had travelled all the -way from Stickborough Gorse. To this Sir Harry replied resentfully -that the Captain did not know what were the running powers of a -dog-fox in March. Then he told various stories of what had been done -in this way at this special period of the year. Glomax, however, -declared that he knew as much of a fox as any man in England, and -that he would eat both the foxes, and the wood, and Sir Harry, and, -finally, himself, if the animal which had run up Buddlecombe Hill was -the same which they brought with them from Stickborough Gorse into -Gobblegoose Wood. So the battle raged, and the ladies no doubt were -much interested;--as would have been the bishop had he been there, or -the political economist. - -After this Ayala was taken up into her room, and left to sit there by -herself for a while till Lady Albury should send her maid. "My dear," -said Lady Albury, "there is something on the bed which I expect you -to wear to-night. I shall be broken-hearted if it doesn't fit you. -The frock is a present from Sir Harry; the scarf comes from me. Don't -say a word about it. Sir Harry always likes to make presents to young -ladies." Then she hurried out of the room while Ayala was still -thanking her. Lady Albury had at first intended to say something -about the Colonel as they were sitting together over Ayala's fire, -but she had made up her mind against this as soon as she saw their -manner towards each other on entering the house. If Ayala had -accepted him at a word as they were travelling together, then there -would be need of no further interference in the matter. But if not, -it would be better that she should hold her peace for the present. - -Ayala's first instinct was to look at the finery which had been -provided for her. It was a light grey silk, almost pearl colour, as -to which she thought she had never seen anything so lovely before. -She measured the waist with her eye, and knew at once that it -would fit her. She threw the gauzy scarf over her shoulders and -turned herself round before the large mirror which stood near the -fire-place. "Dear Lady Albury!" she exclaimed; "dear Lady Albury!" -It was impossible that she should have understood that Lady Albury's -affection had been shown to Jonathan Stubbs much rather than to her -when those presents were prepared. - -She got rid of her travelling dress and her boots, and let down her -hair, and seated herself before the fire, that she might think of -it all in her solitude. Was she or was she not glad,--glad in sober -earnest, glad now the moment of her mirth had passed by, the mirth -which had made her return to Stalham so easy for her,--was she or was -she not glad that this change had come upon the Colonel, this return -to his old ways? She had got her friend again, but she had lost her -lover. She did not want the lover. She was sure of that. She was -still sure that if a lover would come to her who would be in truth -acceptable,--such a lover as would enable her to give herself up to -him altogether, and submit herself to him as her lord and master,--he -must be something different from Jonathan Stubbs. That had been the -theory of her life for many months past, a theory on which she had -resolved to rely with all her might from the moment in which this -man had spoken to her of his love. Would she give way and render -up herself and all her dreams simply because the man was one to be -liked? She had declared to herself again and again that it should not -be so. There should come the Angel of Light or there should come no -lover for her. On that very morning as she was packing up her boxes -at Kingsbury Crescent she had arranged the words in which, should -he speak to her on the subject in the railway train, she would make -him understand that it could never be. Surely he would understand -if she told him so simply, with a little prayer that his suit might -not be repeated. His suit had not been repeated. Nothing apparently -had been further from his intention. He had been droll, pleasant, -friendly,--just like his old dear self. For in truth the pleasantness -and the novelty of his friendship had made him dear to her. He had -gone back of his own accord to the old ways, without any little -prayer from her. Now was she contented? As the question would thrust -itself upon her in opposition to her own will, driving out the -thoughts which she would fain have welcomed, she gazed listlessly at -the fire. If it were so, then for what purpose, then for what reason, -had Lady Albury procured for her the pale grey pearl-coloured dress? - -And why were all these grand people at Stalham so good to her,--to -her, a poor little girl, whose ordinary life was devoted to the -mending of linen and to the furtherance of economy in the use of -pounds of butter and legs of mutton? Why was she taken out of her own -sphere and petted in this new luxurious world? She had a knowledge -belonging to her,--if not quite what we may call common sense,--which -told her that there must be some cause. Of some intellectual -capacity, some appreciation of things and words which were divine in -their beauty, she was half conscious. It could not be, she felt, that -without some such capacity she should have imaged to herself that -Angel of Light. But not for such capacity as that had she been made -welcome at Stalham. As for her prettiness, her beauty of face and -form, she thought about them not at all,--almost not at all. In -appearing in that pale-pearl silk, with that gauzy scarf upon her -shoulders, she would take pride. Not to be shamed among other girls -by the poorness of her apparel was a pride to her. Perhaps to excel -some others by the prettiness of her apparel might be a pride to -her. But of feminine beauty, as a great gift bestowed upon her, she -thought not at all. She would look in the mirror for the effect of -the scarf, but not for the effect of the neck and shoulders beneath -it. Could she have looked in any mirror for the effect of the dreams -she had thus dreamed,--ah! that would have been the mirror in which -she would have loved yet feared to look! - -Why was Lady Albury so kind to her? Perhaps Lady Albury did not know -that Colonel Stubbs had changed his mind. She would know it very -soon, and then, maybe, everything would be changed. As she thought of -this she longed to put the pearl silk dress aside, and not to wear -it as yet,--to put it aside so that it might never be worn by her if -circumstances should so require. It was to be hoped that the man had -changed his mind,--and to be hoped that Lady Albury would know that -he had done so. Then she would soon see whether there was a change. -Could she not give a reason why she should not wear the dress this -night? As she sat gazing at the fire a tear ran down her cheek. Was -it for the dress she would not wear, or for the lover whom she would -not love? - -The question as to the dress was settled for her very soon. Lady -Albury's maid came into the room,--not a chit of a girl without a -thought of her own except as to her own grandness in being two steps -higher than the kitchen-maid,--but a well-grown, buxom, powerful -woman, who had no idea of letting such a young lady as Ayala do -anything in the matter of dress but what she told her. When Ayala -suggested something as to the next evening in reference to the -pale-pearl silk the buxom powerful woman pooh-poohed her down in -a moment. What;--after Sir Harry had taken so much trouble about -having it made; having actually inquired about it with his own mouth. -"To-night, Miss; you must wear it to-night! My lady would be quite -angry!" "My lady not know what you wear! My lady knows what all the -ladies wear,--morning, noon, and night." That little plan of letting -the dress lie by till she should know how she should be received -after Colonel Stubbs's change of mind had been declared, fell to the -ground altogether under the hands of the buxom powerful woman. - -When she went into the drawing-room some of the guests were -assembled. Sir Harry and Lady Albury were there, and so was Colonel -Stubbs. As she walked in Sir Harry was standing well in front of the -fire, in advance of the rug, so as to be almost in the middle of the -room. Captain Glomax was there also, and the discussion about the -foxes was going on. It had occurred to Ayala that as the dress was a -present from Sir Harry she must thank him. So she walked up to him -and made a little curtsey just before him. "Am I nice, Sir Harry?" -she said. - -"Upon my word," said Sir Harry, "that is the best spent -ten-pound-note I ever laid out in my life." Then he took her by the -hand and gently turned her round, so as to look at her and her dress. - -"I don't know whether I am nice, but you are," she said, curtseying -again. Everybody felt that she had had quite a little triumph as she -subsided into a seat close by Lady Albury, who called her. As she -seated herself she caught the Colonel's eye, who was looking at her. -She fancied that there was a tear in it. Then he turned himself and -looked away into the fire. - -"You have won his heart for ever," said Lady Albury. - -"Whose heart?" asked Ayala, in her confusion. - -"Sir Harry's heart. As for the other, cela va sans dire. You must go -on wearing it every night for a week or Sir Harry will want to know -why you have left it off. If the woman had made it on you it couldn't -have fitted better. Baker,--" Baker was the buxom female,--"said that -she knew it was right. You did that very prettily to Sir Harry. Now -go up and ask Colonel Stubbs what he thinks of it." - -"Indeed, I won't," said Ayala. Lady Albury, a few minutes afterwards, -when she saw Ayala walking away towards the drawing-room leaning -on the Colonel's arm, acknowledged to herself that she did at last -understand it. The Colonel had been able to see it all, even without -the dress, and she confessed in her mind that the Colonel had eyes -with which to see, and ears with which to hear, and a judgment with -which to appreciate. "Don't you think that girl very lovely?" she -said to Lord Rufford, on whose arm she was leaning. - -"Something almost more than lovely," said Lord Rufford, with unwonted -enthusiasm. - -It was acknowledged now by everybody. "Is it true about Colonel -Stubbs and Miss Dormer?" whispered Lady Rufford to her hostess in the -drawing-room. - -"Upon my word, I never inquire into those things," said Lady Albury. -"I suppose he does admire her. Everybody must admire her." - -"Oh yes;" said Lady Rufford. "She is certainly very pretty. Who is -she, Lady Albury?" Lady Rufford had been a Miss Penge, and the Penges -were supposed to be direct descendants from Boadicea. - -"She is Miss Ayala Dormer. Her father was an artist, and her mother -was a very handsome woman. When a girl is as beautiful as Miss -Dormer, and as clever, it doesn't much signify who she is." Then the -direct descendant from Boadicea withdrew, holding an opinion much at -variance with that expressed by her hostess. - -"Who is that young lady who sat next to you?" asked Captain Glomax of -Colonel Stubbs, after the ladies had gone. - -"She is a Miss Ayala Dormer." - -"Did I not see her out hunting with you once or twice early in the -season?" - -"You saw her out hunting, no doubt, and I was there. I did not -specially bring her. She was staying here, and rode one of Albury's -horses." - -"Take her top and bottom, and all round," said Captain Glomax, "she -is the prettiest little thing I've seen for many a day. When she -curtsyed to Sir Harry in the drawing-room I almost thought that I -should like to be a marrying man myself." Stubbs did not carry on the -conversation, having felt displeased rather than otherwise by the -admiration expressed. - -"I didn't quite understand before," said Sir Harry to his wife that -night, "what it was that made Jonathan so furious about that girl; -but I think I see it now." - -"Fine feathers make fine birds," said his wife, laughing. - -"Feathers ever so fine," said Sir Harry, "don't make well-bred -birds." - -"To tell the truth," said Lady Albury, "I think we shall all have to -own that Jonathan has been right." - -This took place upstairs, but before they left the drawing-room Lady -Albury whispered a few words to her young friend. "We have had a -terrible trouble about you, Ayala." - -"A trouble about me, Lady Albury? I should be so sorry." - -"It is not exactly your fault;--but we haven't at all known what to -do with that unfortunate man." - -"What man?" asked Ayala, forgetful at the moment of all men except -Colonel Stubbs. - -"You naughty girl! Don't you know that my brother-in-law is -broken-hearted about you?" - -"Captain Batsby!" whispered Ayala, in her faintest voice. - -"Yes; Captain Batsby. A Captain has as much right to be considered -as a Colonel in such a matter as this." Here Ayala frowned, but said -nothing. "Of course, I can't help it, who may break his heart, but -poor Ben is always supposed to be at Stalham just at this time of the -year, and now I have been obliged to tell him one fib upon another to -keep him away. When he comes to know it all, what on earth will he -say to me?" - -"I am sure it has not been my fault," said Ayala. - -"That's what young ladies always say when gentlemen break their -hearts." - -When Ayala was again in her room, and had got rid of the buxom -female who came to assist her in taking off her new finery, she was -aware of having passed the evening triumphantly. She was conscious -of admiration. She knew that Sir Harry had been pleased by her -appearance. She was sure that Lady Albury was satisfied with her, and -she had seen something in the Colonel's glance that made her feel -that he had not been indifferent. But in their conversation at the -dinner table he had said nothing which any other man might not have -said, if any other man could have made himself as agreeable. Those -hunting days were all again described with their various incidents, -with the great triumph over the brook, and Twentyman's wife and baby, -and fat Lord Rufford, who was at the moment sitting there opposite to -them; and the ball in London, with the lady who was thrown out of the -window; and the old gentleman and the old lady of to-day who had been -so peculiar in their remarks. There had been nothing else in their -conversation, and it surely was not possible that a man who intended -to put himself forward as a lover should have talked in such fashion -as that! But then there were other things which occurred to her. Why -had there been that tear in his eye? And that "cela va sans dire" -which had come from Lady Albury in her railing mood;--what had that -meant? Lady Albury, when she said that, could not have known that the -Colonel had changed his purpose. - -But, after all, what is a dress, let it be ever so pretty? The Angel -of Light would not care for her dress, let her wear what she might. -Were he to seek her because of her dress, he would not be the Angel -of Light of whom she had dreamed. It was not by any dress that -she could prevail over him. She did rejoice because of her little -triumph;--but she knew that she rejoiced because she was not an Angel -of Light herself. Her only chance lay in this, that the angels of -yore did come down from heaven to ask for love and worship from the -daughters of men. - -As she went to bed, she determined that she would still be true to -her dream. Not because folk admired a new frock would she be ready to -give herself to a man who was only a man,--a man of the earth really; -who had about him no more than a few of the real attributes of an -Angel of Light. - - - - -CHAPTER L. - -GOBBLEGOOSE WOOD ON SUNDAY. - - -The next two days were not quite so triumphant to Ayala as had been -the evening of her arrival. There was hunting on both of those days, -the gentlemen having gone on the Friday away out of Sir Harry's -country to the Brake hounds. Ayala and the Colonel had arrived on the -Thursday. Ayala had not expected to be asked to hunt again,--had not -even thought about it. It had been arranged before on Nina's account, -and Nina now was not to hunt any more. Lord George did not altogether -approve of it, and Nina was quite in accord with Lord George,--though -she had held up her whip and shaken it in triumph when she jumped -over the Cranbury Brook. And the horse which Alaya had ridden was no -longer in the stables. "My dear, I am so sorry; but I'm afraid we -can't mount you," Lady Albury said. In answer to this Ayala declared -that she had not thought of it for a moment. But yet the days seemed -to be dull with her. Lady Rufford was,--well,--perhaps a little -patronising to her, and patronage such as that was not at all to -Ayala's taste. "Lady Albury seems to be quite a kind friend to you," -Lady Rufford said. Nothing could be more true. The idea implied was -true also,--the idea that such a one as Ayala was much in luck's -way to find such a friend as Lady Albury. It was true no doubt; but, -nevertheless, it was ungracious, and had to be resented. "A very kind -friend, indeed. Some people only make friends of those who are as -grand as themselves." - -"I am sure we should be very glad to see you at Rufford if you remain -long in the country," said Lady Rufford, a little time afterwards. -But even in this there was not a touch of that cordiality which might -have won Ayala's heart. "I am not at all likely to stay," said Ayala. -"I live with my uncle and aunt at Notting Hill, and I very rarely go -away from home." Lady Rufford, however, did not quite understand it. -It had been whispered to her that morning that Ayala was certainly -going to marry Colonel Stubbs; and, if so, why should she not come to -Rufford? - -On that day, the Friday, she was taken out to dinner by Captain -Glomax. "I remember quite as if it were yesterday," said the Captain. -"It was the day we rode the Cranbury Brook." - -Ayala looked up into his face, also remembering everything as well -as it were yesterday. "Mr. Twentyman rode over it," she said, "and -Colonel Stubbs rode into it." - -"Oh, yes; Stubbs got a ducking; so he did." The Captain had not got a -ducking, but then he had gone round by the road. "It was a good run -that." - -"I thought so." - -"We haven't been lucky since Sir Harry has had the hounds somehow. -There doesn't seem to be the dash about 'em there used to be when I -was here. I had them before Sir Harry, you know." All this was nearly -in a whisper. - -"Were you Master?" asked Ayala, with a tone of surprise which was not -altogether pleasing to the Captain. - -"Indeed I was, but the fag of it was too great, and the thanks too -small, so I gave it up. They used to get four days a week out of me." -During the two years that the Captain had had the hounds, there had -been, no doubt, two or three weeks in which he had hunted four days. - -Ayala liked hunting, but she did not care much for Captain Glomax, -who, having seen her once or twice on horseback, would talk to her -about nothing else. A little away on the other side of the table Nina -was sitting next to Colonel Stubbs, and she could hear their voices -and almost their words. Nina and Jonathan were first cousins, and, -of course, could be happy together without giving her any cause for -jealousy;--but she almost envied Nina. Yet she had hoped that it -might not fall to her lot to be taken out again that evening by the -Colonel. Hitherto she had not even spoken to him during the day. They -had started to the meet very early, and the gentlemen had almost -finished their breakfast before she had come down. If there had been -any fault it was her fault, but yet she almost felt that there was -something of a disruption between them. It was so evident to her that -he was perfectly happy whilst he was talking to Nina. - -After dinner it seemed to be very late before the men came into the -drawing-room, and then they were still engaged upon that weary talk -about hunting, till Lady Rufford, in order to put a stop to it, -offered to sing. "I always do," she said, "if Rufford ventures to -name a fox in the drawing-room after dinner." She did sing, and Ayala -thought that the singing was more weary than the talk about hunting. - -While this was going on, the Colonel had got himself shut up in -a corner of the room. Lady Albury had first taken him there, and -afterwards he had been hemmed in when Lady Rufford sat down to the -piano. Ayala had hardly ventured even to glance at him, but yet she -knew all that he did, and heard almost every word that he spoke. -The words were not many, but still when he did speak his voice was -cheerful. Nina now and again had run up to him, and Lady Rufford had -asked him some questions about the music. But why didn't he come out -and speak to her? thought Ayala. Though all that nonsense about love -was over, still he ought not to have allowed a day to pass at Stalham -without speaking to her. He was the oldest friend there in that -house except Nina. It was indeed no more than nine months since she -had first seen him, but still it seemed to her that he was an old -friend. She did feel, as she endeavoured to answer the questions that -Lord Rufford was asking her, that Jonathan Stubbs was treating her -unkindly. - -Then came the moment in which Lady Albury marshalled her guests out -of the room towards their chambers. "Have you found yourself dull -without the hunting?" the Colonel said to Ayala. - -"Oh dear no; I must have a dull time if I do, seeing that I have -only hunted three days in my life." There was something in the tone -of her voice which, as she herself was aware, almost expressed -dissatisfaction. And yet not for worlds would she have shown herself -to be dissatisfied with him, could she have helped it. - -"I thought that perhaps you might have regretted the little pony," he -said. - -"Because a thing has been very pleasant, it should not be regretted -because it cannot be had always." - -"To me a thing may become so pleasant, that unless I can have it -always my life must be one long regret." - -"The pony is not quite like that," said Ayala, smiling, as she -followed the other ladies out of the room. - -On the next morning the meet was nearer, and some of the ladies were -taken there in an open carriage. Lady Rufford went, and Mrs. Gosling, -and Nina and Ayala. "Of course there is a place for you," Lady Albury -had said to her. "Had I wanted to go I would have made Sir Harry send -the drag; but I've got to stop at home and see that the buttered -toast is ready by the time the gentlemen all come back." The morning -was almost warm, so that the sportsmen were saying evil things of -violets and primroses, as is the wont of sportsmen on such occasions, -and at the meet the ladies got out of the carriage and walked about -among the hounds, making civil speeches to old Tony. "No, my lady," -said Tony, "I don't like these sunshiny mornings at all; there ain't -no kind of scent, and I goes riding about these big woods, up and -down, till my shirt is as wet on my back with the sweat as though I'd -been pulled through the river." Then Lady Rufford walked away and did -not ask Tony any more questions. - -Ayala was patting one of the hounds when the Colonel, who had given -his horse to a groom, came and joined her. "If you don't regret that -pony," said he, "somebody else does." - -"I do regret him in one way, of course. I did like it very much; but -I don't think it nice, when much has been done for me, to say that I -want to have more done." - -"Of course I knew what you meant." - -"Perhaps you would go and tell Sir Harry, and then he would think me -very ungrateful." - -"Ayala," he said, "I will never say anything of you that will make -anybody think evil of you. But, between ourselves, as Sir Harry is -not here, I suppose I may confess that I regret the pony." - -"I should like it, of course," whispered Ayala. - -"And so should I,--so much! I suppose all these men here would -think me an ass if they knew how little I care about the day's -work,--whether we find, or whether we run, or whether we kill,--just -because the pony is not here. If the pony were here I should have -that feeling of expectation of joy, which is so common to girls when -some much-thought-of ball or promised pleasure is just before them." -Then Tony went off with his hounds, and Jonathan, mounting his horse, -followed with the ruck. - -Ayala knew very well what the pony meant, as spoken of by the -Colonel. When he declared that he regretted the pony, it was because -the pony might have carried herself. He had meant her to understand -that the much-thought-of ball or promised pleasure would have been -the delight of again riding with herself. And then he had again -called her Ayala. She could remember well every occasion on which -he had addressed her by her Christian name. It had been but seldom. -Once, however, it had occurred in the full flow of their early -intimacy, before that love-making had been begun. It had struck her -as being almost wrong, but still as very pleasant. If it might be -made right by some feeling of brotherly friendship, how pleasant -would it be! And now she would like it again, if only it might be -taken as a sign of friendship rather than of love. It never occurred -to her to be angry as she would have been angry with any other -man. How she would have looked at Captain Batsby had he dared to -call her Ayala! Colonel Stubbs should call her Ayala as long as he -pleased,--if it were done only in friendship. - -After that they were driven about for a while, seeing what Tony did -with the hounds, as tidings came to them now and again that one -fox had broken this way and another had gone the other. But Ayala, -through it all, could not interest herself about the foxes. She was -thinking only of Jonathan Stubbs. She knew that she was pleased -because he had spoken to her, and had said kind, pleasant words to -her. She knew that she had been displeased while he had sat apart -from her, talking to others. But yet she could not explain to herself -why she had been either pleased or displeased. She feared that there -was more than friendship,--than mere friendship, in that declaration -of his that he did in truth regret the pony. His voice had been, oh, -so sweet as he had said it! Something told her that men do not speak -in mere friendship after that fashion. Not even in the softness of -friendship between a man and a woman will the man's voice become -as musical as that! Young as she was, child as she was, there was -an instinct in her breast which declared to her that it was so. But -then, if it were so, was not everything again wrong with her? If it -were so, then must that condition of things be coming back which it -had been, and still was her firm resolve to avoid. And yet, as the -carriage was being driven about, and as the frequent exclamations -came that the fox had traversed this way or that, her pride was -gratified and she was happy. - -"What was Colonel Stubbs saying to you?" asked Nina, when they were -at home at the house after lunch. - -"He was talking about the dear pony which I used to ride." - -"About nothing else?" - -"No;--about nothing else." This Ayala said with a short, dry manner -of utterance which she would assume when she was determined not to -have a subject carried on. - -"Ayala, why do you not tell me everything? I told you everything as -soon as it happened." - -"Nothing has happened." - -"I know he asked you," said Nina. - -"And I answered him." - -"Is that to be everything?" - -"Yes;--that is to be everything," said Ayala, with a short, dry -manner of utterance. It was so plain, that even Nina could not pursue -the subject. - -There was nothing done on that day in the way of sport. Glomax -thought that Tony had been idle, and had made a holiday of the day -from the first. But Sir Harry declared that there had not been a yard -of scent. The buttered toast, however, was eaten, and the regular -sporting conversation was carried on. Ayala, however, was not there -to hear it. Ayala was in her own room dreaming. - -She was taken in to dinner by a curate in the neighbourhood,--to whom -she endeavoured to make herself very pleasant, while the Colonel -sat at her other side. The curate had a good deal to say as to lawn -tennis. If the weather remained as it was, it was thought that -they could all play lawn tennis on the Tuesday,--when there would -be no hunting. The curate was a pleasant young fellow, and Ayala -devoted herself to him and to their joint hopes for next Tuesday. -Colonel Stubbs never once attempted to interfere with the curate's -opportunity. There was Lady Rufford on the other side of him, and -to Lady Rufford he said all that he did say during dinner. At one -period of the repast she was more than generally lively, because she -felt herself called upon to warn her husband that an attack of the -gout was imminent, and would be certainly produced instantaneously -if he could not deny himself the delight of a certain diet which -was going the round of the table. His lordship smiled and denied -himself,--thinking, as he did so, whether another wife, plus -the gout, would or would not have been better for him. All this -either amused Colonel Stubbs so sufficiently, or else made him so -thoughtful, that he made no attempt to interfere with the curate. In -the evening there was again music,--which resulted in a declaration -made upstairs by Sir Harry to his wife that that wife of Rufford's -was a confounded bore. "We all knew that, my dear, as soon as he -married her," said Lady Albury. - -"Why did he marry a bore?" - -"Because he wanted a wife to look after himself, and not to amuse his -friends. The wonder used to be that he had done so well." - -Not a word had there been,--not a word, since that sound of "Ayala" -had fallen upon her ears. No;--he was not handsome, and his name was -Jonathan Stubbs;--but surely no voice so sweet had ever fallen from a -man's lips! So she sat and dreamed far into the night. He, the Angel -of Light, would certainly have a sweeter voice! That was an attribute -without which no angel could be angelic! As to the face and the name, -that would not perhaps signify. But he must have an intellect high -soaring, a soul tuned to music, and a mind versed in nothing but -great matters. He might be an artist, or more probably a poet;--or -perhaps a musician. Yet she had read of poets, artists, and -musicians, who had misused their wives, been fond of money, and had -perhaps been drunkards. The Angel of Light must have the gifts, and -must certainly be without the vices. - -The next day was Sunday and they all went to church. In the afternoon -they, as many of them as pleased, were to walk as far as Gobblegoose -Wood, which was only three miles from the house. They could not hunt -and therefore they must go to the very scene of the late contest and -again discuss it there. Sir Harry and the Captain would walk and -so would Ayala and Nina and some others. Lord Rufford did not like -walking, and Lady Rufford would stay at home to console him. Ayala -used her little wiles to keep herself in close company with Nina; but -the Colonel's wiles were more effective;--and then, perhaps, Nina -assisted the Colonel rather than Ayala. It came to pass that before -they had left Gobblegoose Wood Ayala and the Colonel were together. -When it was so he did not beat about the bush for a moment longer. He -had fixed his opportunity for himself and he put it to use at once. -"Ayala," he said, "am I to have any other answer?" - -"What answer?" - -"Nay, my dearest,--my own, own dearest as I fain would have you,--who -shall say what answer but you? Ayala, you know that I love you!" - -"I thought you had given it up." - -"Given it up. Never,--never! Does a man give up his joy,--the pride -of his life,--the one only delight on which his heart has set itself! -No, my darling, I have not given it up. Because you would not have it -as I wished when I first spoke to you, I have not gone on troubling -you. I thought I would wait till you were used again to the look of -me, and to my voice. I shall never give it up, Ayala. When you came -into the room that night with your new frock on--" Then he paused, -and she glanced round upon him, and saw that a tear again was in his -eye. "When you came in and curtseyed to Sir Harry I could hardly keep -within myself because I thought you were so beautiful." - -"It was the new gown which he had given me." - -"No, my pet;--no! You may add a grace to a dress, but it can do but -little for you. It was the little motion, the little word, the light -in your eye! It twinkles at me sometimes when you glance about, so -that I do not know whether it is meant for me or not. I fear that it -is never meant for me." - -"It is meant for nothing," said Ayala. - -"And yet it goes into my very bosom. When you were talking to that -clergyman at dinner I could see every sparkle that came from it. Then -I wonder to myself whether you can ever be thinking of me as I am -always thinking of you." She knew that she had been thinking of him -every waking moment since she had been at Albury and through many of -her sleeping moments also. "Ayala, one little word, one other glance -from your eyes, one slightest touch from your hand upon my arm, shall -tell me,--shall tell me,--shall tell me that I am the happiest, the -proudest man in all the world." She walked on steadfastly, closing -her very teeth against a word, with her eyes fixed before her so that -no slightest glance should wander. Her two hands were in her little -muff, and she kept them with her fingers clasped together, as though -afraid lest one might rebel, and fly away, and touch the sleeve of -his coat. "Ayala, how is it to be with me?" - -"I cannot," she said sternly. And her eyes were still fixed before -her, and her fingers were still bound in one with another. And yet -she loved him. Yet she knew that she loved him. She could have hung -upon his arm and smiled up into his face, and frowned her refusal -only with mock anger as he pressed her to his bosom,--only that those -dreams were so palpable to her and so dear, had been to her so vast a -portion of her young life! "I cannot," she said again. "I cannot." - -"Is that to be your answer for ever?" To this she made no immediate -reply. "Must it be so, Ayala?" - -"I cannot," she said. But the last little word was so impeded by the -sobs which she could not restrain as almost to be inaudible. - -"I will not make you unhappy, Ayala." Yes, she was unhappy. She was -unhappy because she knew that she could not rule herself to her own -happiness; because, even at this moment, she was aware that she was -wrong. If she could only release part of herself from the other, then -could she fly into his arms and tell him that that spirit which had -troubled her had flown. But the spirit was too strong for her, and -would not fly. "Shall we go and join them?" he asked her in a voice -altered, but still so sweet to her ears. - -"If you think so," she replied. - -"Perhaps it will be best, Ayala. Do not be angry with me now. I will -not call you so again." Angry! Oh, no! She was not angry with him! -But it was very bitter to her to be told that she should never hear -the word again from his lips. - -"The hunted fox never went up Buddlecombe Hill;--never. If he did -I'll eat every fox in the Rufford and Ufford country." This was -heard, spoken in most angry tones by Captain Glomax, as the Colonel -and Ayala joined the rest of the party. - - - - -CHAPTER LI. - -"NO!" - - -Ayala, on her return from the walk to the wood, spent the remainder -of the afternoon in tears. During the walk she kept close to Sir -Harry, pretending to listen to the arguments about the fox, but she -said nothing. Her ears were really intent on endeavouring to catch -the tones of her lover's voice as he went on in front of them talking -to Nina. Nothing could be more pleasant than the sound as he said a -word or two now and again, encouraging Nina in her rhapsodies as to -Lord George and all Lord George's family. But Ayala learned nothing -from that. She had come to know the man well enough to be aware that -he could tune his voice to the occasion, and could hide his feelings -let them be ever so strong. She did not doubt his love now. She did -not doubt but that at this moment his heart was heavy with rejected -love. She quite believed in him. But nevertheless his words were -pleasant and kind as he encouraged Nina. - -Nor did she doubt her own love. She was alone in her room that -afternoon till she told herself at last the truth. Oh, yes; she loved -him. She was sure of that. But now he was gone! Why had she been -so foolish? Then it seemed as though at that moment the separation -took place between herself and the spirit which had haunted her. She -seemed to know now,--now at this very moment,--that the man was too -good for her. The knowledge had been coming to her. It had almost -come when he had spoken to her in the wood. If it could only have -been that he should have delayed his appeal to her yet for another -day or two! She thought now that if he could have delayed it but -for a few hours the cure would have been complete. If he had talked -to her as he so well knew how to talk while they were in the wood -together, while they were walking home,--so as to have exorcised the -spirit from her by the sweetness of his words,--and then have told -her that there was his love to have if she chose to have it, then she -thought she would have taken it. But he had come to her while those -words which she had prepared under the guidance of the spirit were -yet upon her tongue. "I cannot," she had said. "I cannot." But she -had not told him that she did not love him. - -"I did love him," she said to herself, almost acknowledging that -the spirit had been wholly exorcised. The fashion of her mind was -altogether different from that which had so strongly prevailed -with her. He was an honest, noble man, high in the world's repute, -clever, a gentleman, a man of taste, and possessed of that gentle -ever-present humour which was so inexpressibly delightful to her. She -never again spoke to herself even in her thoughts of that Angel of -Light,--never comforted herself again with the vision of that which -was to come! There had appeared to her a man better than all other -men, and when he had asked her for her hand she had simply said,--"I -cannot." And yet she had loved him all the time. How foolish, how -false, how wicked she had been! It was thus that she thought of it -all as she sat there alone in her bedroom through the long hours of -the afternoon. When they sent up for her asking her to come down, she -begged that she might be allowed to remain there till dinner-time, -because she was tired with her walk. - -He would not come again now. Oh, no,--he was too proud, too firm, -too manly for that. It was not for such a one as he to come whining -after a girl,--like her cousin Tom. Would it be possible that she -should even yet tell him? Could she say to him one little word, -contradicting that which she had so often uttered in the wood? -"Now I can," once whispered in his ear, would do it all. But as to -this she was aware that there was no room for hope. To speak such -a word, low as it might be spoken, simple and little as it might -be, was altogether impossible. She had had her chance and had lost -it,--because of those idle dreams. That the dreams had been all idle -she declared to herself,--not aware that the Ayala whom her lover had -loved would not have been an Ayala to be loved by him, but for the -dreams. Now she must go back to her uncle and aunt and to Kingsbury -Crescent, with the added sorrow that the world of dreams was closed -to her for ever. When the maid came to her she consented to have -the frock put on, the frock which Sir Harry had given her, boldly -resolving to struggle through her sorrow till Lady Albury should have -dismissed her to her home. Nobody would want her now at Stalham, and -the dismissal would soon come. - -While she had been alone in her room the Colonel had been closeted -with Lady Albury. They had at least been thus shut up together for -some half-hour during which he had told his tale. "I have to own," -said he, half-laughing as he began his tale, "that I thoroughly -respect Miss Dormer." - -"Why is she to be called Miss Dormer?" - -"Because she has shown herself worthy of my respect." - -"What is it that you mean, Jonathan?" - -"She knew her own mind when she told me at first that she could not -accept the offer which I did myself the honour of making her, and now -she sticks to her purpose. I think that a young lady who will do that -should be respected." - -"She has refused you again?" - -"Altogether." - -"As how?" - -"Well, I hardly know that I am prepared to explain the 'as how' even -to you. I am about as thick-skinned a man in such matters as you may -find anywhere, but I do not know that even I can bring myself to tell -the 'as how.' The 'as how' was very clear in one respect. It was -manifest that she knew her own mind, which is a knowledge not in the -possession of all young ladies. She told me that she could not marry -me." - -"I do not believe it." - -"Not that she told me so?" - -"Not that she knew her own mind. She is a little simple fool, who -with some vagary in her brain is throwing away utterly her own -happiness, while she is vexing you." - -"As to the vexation you are right." - -"Cross-grained little idiot!" - -"An idiot she certainly is not; and as to being cross-grained I have -never found it. A human being with the grains running more directly -all in the same way I have never come across." - -"Do not talk to me, Jonathan, like that," she said. "When I call -her cross-grained I mean that she is running counter to her own -happiness." - -"I cannot tell anything about that. I should have endeavoured, -I think, to make her happy. She has certainly run counter to my -happiness." - -"And now?" - -"What;--as to this very moment! I shall leave Stalham to-morrow." - -"Why should you do that? Let her go if one must go." - -"That is just what I want to prevent. Why should she lose her little -pleasure?" - -"You don't suppose that we can make the house happy to her now! Why -should we care to do so when she will have driven you away?" He sat -silent for a minute or two looking at the fire, with his hands on his -two knees. "You must acknowledge, Jonathan," continued she, "that I -have taken kindly to this Ayala of yours." - -"I do acknowledge it." - -"But it cannot be that she should be the same to us simply as a young -lady, staying here as it were on her own behalf, as she was when we -regarded her as your possible wife. Then every little trick and grace -belonging to her endeared itself to us because we regarded her as one -who was about to become one of ourselves. But what are her tricks and -graces to us now?" - -"They are all the world to me," said the Colonel. - -"But you must wipe them out of your memory,--unless, indeed, you mean -to ask her again." - -"Ah!--that is it." - -"You will ask her again?" - -"I do not say so; but I do not wish to rob myself of the chance. It -may be that I shall. Of course I should to-morrow if I thought there -was a hope. To-morrow there would be none,--but I should like to -know, that I could find her again in hands so friendly as yours, -if at the end of a month I should think myself strong enough to -encounter the risk of another refusal. Would Sir Harry allow her to -remain here for another month?" - -"He would say, probably, nothing about it." - -"My plan is this," he continued; "let her remain here, say, for three -weeks or a month. Do you continue all your kindness to her,--if not -for her sake then for mine. Let her feel that she is made one of -yourselves, as you say." - -"That will be hard," said Lady Albury. - -"It would not be hard if you thought that she was going to become so -at last. Try it, for my sake. Say not a word to her about me,--though -not shunning my name. Be to her as though I had told you nothing of -this. Then when the period is over I will come again,--if I find -that I can do so. If my love is still stronger than my sense of -self-respect, I shall do so." All this Lady Albury promised to do, -and then the interview between them was over. - -"Colonel Stubbs is going to Aldershot to-morrow," said she to Ayala -in the drawing-room after dinner. "He finds now that he cannot very -well remain away." There was no hesitation in her voice as she said -this, and no look in her eye which taught Ayala to suppose that she -had heard anything of what had occurred in the wood. - -"Is he indeed?" said Ayala, trying, but in vain, to be equally -undemonstrative. - -"It is a great trouble to us, but we are quite unable to prevent -it,--unless you indeed can control him." - -"I cannot control him," said Ayala, with that fixed look of -resolution with which Lady Albury had already become familiar. - -That evening before they went to bed the Colonel bade them all -good-bye, as he intended to start early in the morning. "I never saw -such a fellow as you are for sudden changes," said Sir Harry. - -"What is the good of staying here for hunting when the ground and -Tony's temper are both as hard as brick-bats. If I go now I can get -another week further on in March if the rain should come." With this -Sir Harry seemed to be satisfied; but Ayala felt sure that Tony's -temper and the rain had had nothing to do with it. - -"Good-bye, Miss Dormer," he said, with his pleasantest smile, and his -pleasantest voice. - -"Good-bye," she repeated. What would she not have given that her -voice should be as pleasant as his, and her smile! But she failed so -utterly that the little word was inaudible,--almost obliterated by -the choking of a sob. How bitterly severe had that word, Miss Dormer, -sounded from his mouth! Could he not have called her Ayala for the -last time,--even though all the world should have heard it? She was -wide awake in the morning and heard the wheels of his cart as he was -driven off. As the sound died away upon her ear she felt that he -was gone from her for ever. How had it been that she had said, "I -cannot," so often, when all her heart was set upon "I can?" - -And now it remained to her to take herself away from Stalham as fast -as she might. She understood perfectly all those ideas which Lady -Albury had expressed to her well-loved friend. She was nothing to -anybody at Stalham, simply a young lady staying in the house;--as -might be some young lady connected with them by blood, or some -young lady whose father and mother had been their friends. She had -been brought there to Stalham, now this second time, in order that -Jonathan Stubbs might take her as his wife. Driven by some madness -she had refused her destiny, and now nobody would want her at Stalham -any longer. She had better begin to pack up at once,--and go. The -coldness of the people, now that she had refused to do as she had -been asked, would be unbearable to her. And yet she must not let it -appear that Stalham was no longer dear to her merely because Colonel -Stubbs had left it. She would let a day go by, and then say with all -the ease she could muster that she would take her departure on the -next. After that her life before her would be a blank. She had known -up to this,--so at least she told herself,--that Jonathan Stubbs -would afford her at any rate another chance. Now there could be no -other chance. - -The first blank day passed away, and it seemed to her almost as -though she had no right to speak to any one. She was sure that Lady -Rufford knew what had occurred, because nothing more was said as -to the proposed visit. Mrs. Colonel Stubbs would have been welcome -anywhere, but who was Ayala Dormer? Even though Lady Albury bade her -come out in the carriage, it seemed to her to be done as a final -effort of kindness. Of course they would be anxious to be rid of her. -That evening the buxom woman did not come to help her dress herself. -It was an accident. The buxom woman was wanted here and there till it -was too late, and Ayala had left her room. Ayala, in truth, required -no assistance in dressing. When the first agonizing moment of the new -frock had been passed over, she would sooner have arrayed herself -without assistance. But now it seemed as though the buxom woman was -running away, because she, Ayala, was thought to be no longer worthy -of her services. - -On the next morning she began her little speech to Lady Albury. -"Going away to-morrow?" said Lady Albury. - -"Or perhaps the next day," suggested Ayala. - -"My dear, it has been arranged that you should stay here for another -three weeks." - -"No." - -"I say it was arranged. Everybody understood it. I am sure your aunt -understood it. Because one person goes, everybody else isn't to -follow so as to break up a party. Honour among thieves!" - -"Thieves!" - -"Well;--anything else you like to call us all. The party has been -made up. And to tell the truth I don't think that young ladies have -the same right of changing their minds and rushing about as men -assume. Young ladies ought to be more steady. Where am I to get -another young lady at a moment's notice to play lawn tennis with Mr. -Greene? Compose yourself and stay where you are like a good girl." - -"What will Sir Harry say?" - -"Sir Harry will probably go on talking about the Stillborough fox and -quarreling with that odious Captain Glomax. That is, if you remain -here. If you go all of a sudden, he will perhaps hint--" - -"Hint what, Lady Albury?" - -"Never mind. He shall make no hints if you are a good girl." Nothing -was said at the moment about the Colonel,--nothing further than the -little allusion made above. Then there came the lawn tennis, and -Ayala regained something of her spirits as she contrived with the -assistance of Sir Harry to beat Nina and the curate. But on the -following day Lady Albury spoke out more plainly, "it was because of -Colonel Stubbs that you said that you would go away." - -Ayala paused a moment, and then answered stoutly, "Yes, it was -because of Colonel Stubbs." - -"And why?" - -Ayala paused again and the stoutness almost deserted her. "Because--" - -"Well, my dear?" - -"I don't think I ought to be asked," said Ayala. - -"Well, you shall not be asked. I will not be cruel to you. But do you -not know that if I ask anything it is with a view to your own good?" - -"Oh, yes," said Ayala. - -"But though I may not ask I suppose I may speak." To this Ayala made -no reply, either assenting or dissenting. "You know, do you not, that -I and Colonel Stubbs love each other like brother and sister,--more -dearly than many brothers and sisters?" - -"I suppose so." - -"And that therefore he tells me everything. He told me what took -place in the wood,--and because of that he has gone away." - -"Of course you are angry with me;--because he has gone away." - -"I am sorry that he has gone,--because of the cause of it. I always -wish that he should have everything that he desires; and now I wish -that he should have this thing because he desires it above all other -things." Does he desire it above all other things?--thought Ayala to -herself. And, if it be really so, cannot I now tell her that he shall -have it? Cannot I say that I too long to get it quite as eagerly -as he longs to have it? The suggestion rushed quickly to her mind; -but the answer to it came as quickly. No;--she would not do so. No -offer of the kind would come from her. By what she had said must she -abide,--unless, indeed, he should come to her again. "But why should -you go, Ayala, because he has gone? Why should you say aloud that you -had come here to listen to his offer, and that you had gone away as -soon as you had resolved that, for this reason or that, it was not -satisfactory to you?" - -"Oh, Lady Albury." - -"That would be the conclusion drawn. Remain here with us, and see if -you can like us well enough to be one of us." - -"Dear Lady Albury, I do love you dearly." - -"What he may do I cannot say. Whether he may bring himself to try -once again I do not know,--nor will I ask you whether there might -possibly be any other answer were he to do so." - -"No!" said Ayala, driven by a sudden fit of obstinacy which she could -not control. - -"I ask no questions about it, but I am sure it will be better for you -to remain here for a few weeks. We will make you happy if we can, and -you can learn to think over what has passed without emotion." Thus it -was decided that Ayala should prolong her visit into the middle of -March. She could not understand her own conduct when she again found -herself alone. Why had she ejaculated that sudden "No," when Lady -Albury had suggested to her the possibility of changing her purpose? -She knew that she would fain change it if it were possible; and yet -when the idea was presented to her she replied with a sudden denial -of its possibility. But still there was hope, even though the hope -was faint. "Whether he may bring himself to try again I do not know." -So it was that Lady Albury had spoken of him, and of what Lady Albury -said to her she now believed every word. "Whether he could bring -himself!" Surely such a one as he would not condescend so far as -that. But if he did one word should be sufficient. By no one else -would she allow it to be thought, for an instant, that she would wish -to reverse her decision. It must still be No to any other person from -whom such suggestion might come. But should he give her the chance -she would tell him instantly the truth of everything. "Can I love -you! Oh, my love, it is impossible that I should not love you!" It -would be thus that the answer should be given to him, should he allow -her the chance of making it. - - - - -CHAPTER LII. - -"I CALL IT FOLLY." - - -Three weeks passed by, and Ayala was still at Stalham. Colonel Stubbs -had not as yet appeared, and very little had been said about him. -Sir Henry would sometimes suggest that if he meant to see any more -hunting he had better come at once, but this was not addressed to -Ayala. She made up her mind that he would not come, and was sure -that she was keeping him away by her presence. He could not--"bring -himself to try over again," as Lady Albury had put it! Why should -he--"bring himself"--to do anything on behalf of one who had treated -him so badly? It had been settled that she should remain to the 25th -of March, when the month should be up from the time in which Lady -Albury had decided upon that as the period of her visit. Of her -secret she had given no slightest hint. If he ever did come again it -should not be because she had asked for his coming. As far as she -knew how to carry out such a purpose, she concealed from Lady Albury -anything like a feeling of regret. And she was so far successful that -Lady Albury thought it expedient to bring in other assistance to help -her cause,--as will be seen by a letter which Ayala received when the -three weeks had passed by. - -In the meantime there had been at first dismay, then wonder, and -lastly, some amusement, at the condition of Captain Batsby. When -Captain Batsby had first learned at Merle Park that Ayala and -Jonathan Stubbs were both at Stalham, he wrote very angrily to Lady -Albury. In answer to this his sister-in-law had pleaded guilty,--but -still defending herself. How could she make herself responsible -for the young lady,--who did not indeed seem ready to bestow her -affections on any of her suitors? But still she acknowledged that a -little favour was being shown to Colonel Stubbs,--wishing to train -the man to the idea that, in this special matter, Colonel Stubbs must -be recognised as the Stalham favourite. Then no further letters were -received from the Captain, but there came tidings that he was staying -at Merle Park. Ayala heard continually from her sister, and Lucy sent -some revelations as to the Captain. He seemed to be very much at home -at Merle Park, said Lucy; and then, at last, she expressed her own -opinion that Captain Batsby and Gertrude were becoming very fond of -each other. And yet the whole story of Gertrude and Mr. Houston was -known, of course, to Lucy, and through Lucy to Ayala. To Ayala these -sudden changes were very amusing, as she certainly did not wish to -retain her own hold on the Captain, and was not specially attached to -her cousin Gertrude. From Ayala the tidings went to Lady Albury, and -in this way the fears which had been entertained as to the Captain's -displeasure were turned to wonder and amusement. But up to this -period nothing had been heard of the projected trip to Ostend. - -Then came the letter to Ayala, to which allusion has been made, a -letter from her old friend the Marchesa, who was now at Rome. It was -ostensibly in answer to a letter from Ayala herself, but was written -in great part in compliance with instructions received from Lady -Albury. It was as follows;-- - - - DEAR AYALA,-- - - I was glad to get your letter about Nina. She is very - happy, and Lord George is here. Indeed, to tell the truth, - they arrived together,--which was not at all proper; but - everything will be made proper on Tuesday, 8th April, - which is the day at last fixed for the wedding. I wish you - could have been here to be one of the bridesmaids. Nina - says that you will have it that the Pope is to marry her. - Instead of that it is going to be done by Lord George's - uncle, the Dean of Dorchester, who is coming for this - purpose. Then they are going up to a villa they have - taken on Como, where we shall join them some time before - the spring is over. After that they seem to have no - plans,--except plans of connubial bliss, which is never to - know any interruption. - - Now that I have come to connubial bliss, and feel so - satisfied as to Nina's prospects, I have a word or two - to say about the bliss of somebody else. Nina is my own - child, and of course comes first. But one Jonathan Stubbs - is my nephew, and is also very near to my heart. From all - that I hear, I fancy that he has set his mind also on - connubial bliss. Have you not heard that it is so? - - A bird has whispered to me that you have not been kind - to him. Why should it be so? Nobody knows better than I - do that a young lady is entitled to the custody of her - own heart, and that she should not be compelled, or even - persuaded, to give her hand in opposition to her own - feelings. If your feelings and your heart are altogether - opposed to the poor fellow, of course there must be an end - of it. But I had thought that from the time you first met - him he had been a favourite of yours;--so much so that - there was a moment in which I feared that you might think - too much of the attentions of a man who has ever been a - favourite with all who have known him. But I have found - that in this I was altogether mistaken. When he came that - evening to see the last of you at the theatre, taking, as - I knew he did, considerable trouble to release himself - from other engagements, I was pretty sure how it was going - to be. He is not a man to be in love with a girl for a - month and then to be in love with another the next month. - When once he allowed himself to think that he was in - love, the thing was done and fixed either for his great - delight,--or else to his great trouble. - - I knew how it was to be, and so it has been. Am I not - right in saying that on two occasions, at considerable - intervals, he has come to you and made distinct offers of - his hand? I fear, though I do not actually know it, that - you have just as distinctly rejected those offers. I do - not know it, because none but you and he can know the - exact words with which you received from him the tender - of all that he had to give you. I can easily believe that - he, with all his intelligence, might be deceived by the - feminine reserve and coyness of such a girl as you. If it - be so, I do pray that no folly may be allowed to interfere - with his happiness and with yours. - - I call it folly, not because I am adverse to feminine - reserve, not because I am prone to quarrel even with what - I call coyness; but because I know his nature so well, and - feel that he would not bear rebuffs of which many another - man would think nothing; that he would not bring himself - to ask again, perhaps even for a seventh time, as they - might do. And, if it be that by some frequent asking his - happiness and yours could be insured, would it not be - folly that such happiness should be marred by childish - disinclination on your part to tell the truth? - - As I said before, if your heart be set against him, there - must be an end of it. I can understand that a girl so - young as you should fail to see the great merit of such a - man. I therefore write as I do, thinking it possible that - in this respect you may be willing to accept from my mouth - something as to the man which shall be regarded as truth. - It is on the inner man, on his nature and disposition, - that the happiness of a wife must depend. A more noble - nature, a more truthful spirit than his, I have never - met. He is one on whom in every phase of life you may - depend,--or I may depend,--as on a rock. He is one without - vacillation, always steady to his purpose, requiring from - himself in the way of duty and conduct infinitely more - than he demands from those around him. If ever there was - a man altogether manly, he is one. And yet no woman, no - angel, ever held a heart more tender within his bosom. See - him with children! Think of his words when he has spoken - to yourself! Remember the estimation in which those - friends hold him who know him best,--such as I and your - friend, Lady Albury, and Sir Harry, and his cousin Nina. - I could name many others, but these are those with whom - you have seen him most frequently. If you can love such a - man, do you not think that he would make you happy? And - if you cannot, must there not be something wrong in your - heart,--unless indeed it be already predisposed to some - one else? Think of all this, dear Ayala, and remember that - I am always - - Your affectionate friend, - - JULIA BALDONI. - - -Ayala's first feeling as she read the letter was a conviction that -her friend had altogether wasted her labour in writing it. Of what -use was it to tell her of the man's virtues,--to tell her that the -man's heart was as tender as an angel's, his truth as assured as a -god's, his courage that of a hero,--that he was possessed of all -those attributes which should by right belong to an Angel of Light? -She knew all that without requiring the evidence of a lady from -Rome,--having no need of any evidence on that matter from any other -human being. Of what use could any evidence be on such a subject from -the most truthful lips that ever spoke! Had she not found it all out -herself would any words from others have prevailed with her? But she -had found it out herself. It was already her gospel. That he was -tender and true, manly, heroic,--as brightly angelic as could be -any Angel of Light,--was already an absolute fact to her. No!--her -heart had never been predisposed to any one else. It was of him she -had always dreamed even long before she had seen him. He was the -man, perfect in all good things, who was to come and take her with -him;--if ever man should come and take her. She wanted no Marchesa -Baldoni now to tell her that the angel had in truth come and realised -himself before her in all his glory. - -But she had shown herself to be utterly unfit for the angel. Though -she recognised him now, she had not recognised him in time:--and even -when she had recognised him she had been driven by her madness to -reject him. Feminine reserve and coyness! Folly! Yes, indeed; she -knew all that, too, without need of telling from her elders. The kind -of coyness which she had displayed had been the very infatuation of -feminine imbecility. It was because nature had made her utterly unfit -for such a destiny that she had been driven by coyness and feminine -reserve to destroy herself! It was thus that Ayala conversed with -herself. - -"I know his nature so well, and feel that he would not bear rebuffs -of which many another man would think nothing." Thus, she did not -doubt, the Marchesa had spoken very truly. But of what value was -all that now? She could not recall the rebuff. She could not now -eradicate the cowardice which had made her repeat those wicked fatal -words,--"I cannot." "I cannot." "I cannot." The letter had come too -late, for there was nothing she could do to amend her doom. She must -send some answer to her friend in Italy, but there could be nothing -in her answer to her to assist her. The feminine reserve and coyness -had become odious to her,--as it had been displayed by herself to -him. But it still remained in full force as to any assistance from -others. She could not tell another to send him back to her. She could -not implore help in her trouble. If he would come himself,--himself -of his own accord,--himself impelled once more by his great -tenderness of heart,--himself once more from his real, real love; -then there should be no more coyness. "If you will still have me,--oh -yes!" - -But there was the letter to be written. She so wrote it that by far -the greater part of it,--the larger part at least,--had reference to -Nina and her wedding. "I will think of her on the 8th of April," she -said. "I shall then be at home at Kingsbury Crescent, and I shall -have nothing else to think of." In that was her first allusion to -her own condition with her lover. But on the last side of the sheet -it was necessary that she should say more than that. Something must -be said thoughtfully, carefully, and gratefully in reply to so much -thought, and care, and friendship, as had been shown to her. But it -must be so written that nothing of her secret should be read in it. -The task was so troublesome that she was compelled to recopy the -whole of her long letter, because the sentences as first written did -not please her. "I am so much obliged to you," she said, "by your -kindness about Colonel Stubbs. He did do me the honour of asking me -to be his wife. And I felt it so. You are not to suppose that I did -not understand that. It is all over now, and I cannot explain to -you why I felt that it would not do. It is all over, and therefore -writing about it is no good. Only I want you to be sure of two -things,--that there is no one else, and that I do love you so -much for all your kindness. And you may be sure of a third thing, -too,--that it is all over. I do hope that he will still let me be his -friend. As a friend I have always liked him so much." It was brave -and bold, she thought, in answer to such words as the Marchesa's; but -she did not know how to do it any better. - -On Tuesday, the 25th of March, she was to return to Kingsbury -Crescent. Various little words were said at Stalham indicating an -intended break in the arrangement. "The Captain certainly won't come -now," said Lady Albury, alluding to the arrangement as though it had -been made solely with the view of saving Ayala from an encounter with -her objectionable lover. "Croppy has come back," said Sir Harry one -day;--Croppy being the pony which Ayala had ridden. "Miss Dormer can -have him now for what little there is left of the hunting." This was -said on the Saturday before she was to go. How could she ride Croppy -for the rest of the hunting when she would be at Kingsbury Crescent? -On neither of these occasions did she say a word, but she assumed -that little look of contradiction which her friends at Stalham -already knew how to read. Then, on the Sunday morning, there came -a letter for Lady Albury. "What does he say?" asked Sir Harry, at -breakfast. "I'll show it you before you go to church," answered his -wife. Then Ayala knew that the letter was from Colonel Stubbs. - -But she did not expect that the letter should be shown her,--which, -however, came to be the case. When she was in the library, waiting -to start to church, Lady Albury came in and threw the letter to her -across the table. "That concerns you," she said, "you had better read -it." There was another lady in the room, also waiting to start on -their walk across the park, and therefore it was natural that nothing -else should be said at the moment. Ayala read the letter, returned -it to the envelope, and then handed it back to Lady Albury,--so that -there was no word spoken about it before church. The letter, which -was very short, was as follows;-- - -"I shall be at Stalham by the afternoon train on Sunday, 30th,--in -time for dinner, if you will send the dog-cart. I could not leave -this most exigeant of all places this week. I suppose Albury will -go on in the woodlands for a week or ten days in April, and I must -put up with that. I hear that Batsby is altogether fixed by the -fascinations of Merle Park. I hope that you and Albury will receive -consolation in the money." Then there was a postscript. "If Croppy -can be got back again, Miss Dormer might see me tumble into another -river." - -It was evident that Lady Albury did not expect anything to be said -at present. She put the letter into her pocket, and there, for the -moment, was the end of it. It may be feared that Ayala's attention -was not fixed that morning so closely as it should have been on the -services of the Church. There was so much in that little letter which -insisted upon having all her attention! Had there been no postscript, -the letter would have been very different. In that case the body -of the letter itself would have intended to have no reference to -her,--or rather it would have had a reference altogether opposite to -that which the postscript gave it. In that case it would have been -manifest to her that he had intentionally postponed his coming till -she had left Stalham. Then his suggestion about the hunting would -have had no interest for her. Everything would have been over. She -would have been at Kingsbury Crescent, and he would have been at -Stalham. But the postscript declared his intention of finding her -still in the old quarters. She would not be there,--as she declared -to herself. After this there would be but one other day, and then she -would be gone. But even this allusion to her and to the pony made the -letter something to her of intense interest. Had it not been so Lady -Albury would not have shown it to her. As it was, why had Lady Albury -shown it to her in that quiet, placid, friendly way,--as though it -were natural that any letter from Colonel Stubbs to Stalham should be -shown to her? - -At lunch Sir Harry began about the pony at once. "Miss Dormer," he -said, "the pony will hardly be fit to-morrow, and the distances -during the rest of the week are all too great for you; you had better -wait till Monday week, when Stubbs will be here to look after you." - -"But I am going home on Tuesday," said Ayala. - -"I've had the pony brought on purpose for you," said Sir Harry. - -"You are not going at all," said Lady Albury. "All that has to be -altered. I'll write to Mrs. Dosett." - -"I don't think--" began Ayala. - -"I shall take it very much amiss," said Sir Harry, "if you go now. -Stubbs is coming on purpose." - -"I don't think--" began Ayala again. - -"My dear Ayala, it isn't a case for thinking," said Lady Albury. "You -most positively will not leave this house till some day in April, -which will have to be settled hereafter. Do not let us have a word -more about it." Then, on that immediate occasion, no further word -about it was spoken. Ayala was quite unable to speak as she sat -attempting to eat her lunch. - - - - -CHAPTER LIII. - -HOW LUCY'S AFFAIRS ARRANGED THEMSELVES. - - -We must go again to Merle Park, where the Tringle family was still -living,--and from which Gertrude had not as yet been violently -abducted at the period to which the reader has been brought in the -relation which has been given of the affairs at Stalham. Jonathan -Stubbs's little note to Lady Albury was received on Sunday, 23rd -March, and Gertrude was not abducted till the 29th. On Sunday, the -30th, she was brought back,--not in great triumph. At that time the -house was considerably perturbed. Sir Thomas was very angry with -his daughter Augusta, having been led to believe that she had been -privy to Gertrude's escapade,--so angry that very violent words had -been spoken as to her expulsion from the house. Tom also was ill, -absolutely ill in bed, with a doctor to see him,--and all from love, -declaring that he would throw himself over the ship's side and drown -himself while there was yet a chance left to him for Ayala. And in -the midst of this Lady Tringle herself was by no means exempt from -the paternal wrath. She was told that she must have known what was -going on between her daughter and that idiot Captain,--that she -encouraged the Trafficks to remain,--that she coddled up her son -till he was sick from sheer lackadaisical idleness. The only one -in the house who seemed to be exempt from the wrath of Sir Thomas -was Lucy,--and therefore it was upon Lucy's head that fell the -concentrated energy of Aunt Emmeline's revenge. When Captain Batsby -was spoken of with contumely in the light of a husband,--this being -always done by Sir Thomas,--Lady Tringle would make her rejoinder to -this, when Sir Thomas had turned his back, by saying that a captain -in Her Majesty's army, with good blood in his veins and a competent -fortune, was at any rate better than a poor artist, who had, so to -say, no blood, and was unable to earn his bread; and when Tom was -ridiculed for his love for Ayala she would go on to explain,--always -after Sir Thomas's back had been turned,--that poor Tom had been -encouraged by his father, whereas Lucy had taken upon herself to -engage herself in opposition to her pastors and masters. And then -came the climax. It was all very well to say that Augusta was -intruding,--but there were people who intruded much worse than -Augusta, without half so much right. When this was said the poor -sore-hearted woman felt her own cruelty, and endeavoured to withdraw -the harsh words; but the wound had been given, and the venom rankled -so bitterly that Lucy could no longer bear her existence among the -Tringles. "I ought not to remain after that," she wrote to her lover. -"Though I went into the poor-house I ought not to remain." - -"I wrote to Mr. Hamel," she said to her aunt, "and told him that as -you did not like my being here I had better,--better go away." - -"But where are you to go? And I didn't say that I didn't like you -being here. You oughtn't to take me up in that way." - -"I do feel that I am in the way, aunt, and I think that I had better -go." - -"But where are you to go? I declare that everybody says everything to -break my heart. Of course you are to remain here till he has got a -house to keep you in." But the letter had gone and a reply had come -telling Lucy that whatever might be the poor-house to which she would -be destined he would be there to share it with her. - -Hamel wrote this with high heart. He had already resolved, previous -to this, that he would at once prepare a home for his coming bride, -though he was sore distressed by the emergency of his position. His -father had become more and more bitter with him as he learned that -his son would in no respect be guided by him. There was a sum of -money which he now declared to be due to him, and which Isadore -acknowledged to have been lent to him. Of this the father demanded -repayment. "If," said he, "you acknowledge anything of the obedience -of a son, that money is at your disposal,--and any other that you may -want. But, if you determine to be as free from my control and as deaf -to my advice as might be any other young man, then you must be to me -as might be any other young man." He had written to his father saying -that the money should be repaid as soon as possible. The misfortune -had come to him at a trying time. It was, however, before he had -received Lucy's last account of her own misery at Merle Park, so that -when that was received he was in part prepared. - -Our Colonel, in writing to Lady Albury, had declared Aldershot to be -a most exigeant place,--by which he had intended to imply that his -professional cares were too heavy to allow his frequent absence; but -nevertheless he would contrive occasionally to fly up to London for -a little relief. Once when doing so he had found himself sitting -in the sculptor's studio, and there listening to Hamel's account -of Lucy's troubles at Merle Park. Hamel said nothing as to his own -difficulties, but was very eager in explaining the necessity of -removing Lucy from the tyranny to which she was subjected. It will -perhaps be remembered that Hamel down in Scotland had declared to his -friend his purpose of asking Lucy Dormer to be his wife, and also -the success of his enterprise after he had gone across the lake to -Glenbogie. It will be borne in mind also that should the Colonel -succeed in winning Ayala to his way of thinking the two men would -become the husbands of the two sisters. Each fully sympathised with -the other, and in this way they had become sincere and intimate -friends. - -"Is she like her sister?" asked the Colonel, who was not as yet -acquainted with Lucy. - -"Hardly like her, although in truth there is a family likeness. Lucy -is taller, with perhaps more regular features, and certainly more -quiet in her manner." - -"Ayala can be very quiet too," said the lover. - -"Oh, yes,--because she varies in her moods. I remember her almost as -a child, when she would remain perfectly still for a quarter of an -hour, and then would be up and about the house everywhere, glancing -about like a ray of the sun reflected from a mirror as you move it in -your hand." - -"She has grown steadier since that," said the Colonel. - -"I cannot imagine her to be steady,--not as Lucy is steady. Lucy, if -it be necessary, can sit and fill herself with her own thoughts for -the hour together." - -"Which of them was most like their father?" - -"They were both of them like him in their thorough love for things -beautiful;--but they are both of them unlike him in this, that he -was self-indulgent, while they, like women in general, are always -devoting themselves to others." She will not devote herself to me, -thought Jonathan Stubbs to himself, but that may be because, like her -father, she loves things beautiful. "My poor Lucy," continued Hamel, -"would fain devote herself to those around her if they would only -permit it." - -"She would probably prefer devoting herself to you," said the -Colonel. - -"No doubt she would,--if it were expedient. If I may presume that she -loves me, I may presume also that she would wish to live with me." - -"Is it not expedient?" asked the other. - -"It will be so, I trust, before long." - -"But it seems to be so necessary just at present." To this the -sculptor at the moment made no reply. "If," continued Stubbs, "they -treat her among them as you say, she ought at any rate to be relieved -from her misery." - -"She ought to be relieved certainly. She shall be relieved." - -"But you say that it is not expedient." - -"I only meant that there were difficulties;--difficulties which will -have to be got over. I think that all difficulties are got over when -a man looks at them steadily." - -"This, I suppose, is an affair of money." - -"Well, yes. All difficulties seem to me to be an affair of money. -A man, of course, would wish to earn enough before he marries to -make his wife comfortable. I would struggle on as I am, and not be -impatient, were it not that I fear she is more uncomfortable as she -is now than she would be here in the midst of my poverty." - -"After all, Hamel, what is the extent of the poverty? What are the -real circumstances? As you have gone so far you might as well tell -me everything." Then after considerable pressure the sculptor did -tell him everything. There was an income of less than three hundred -a year,--which would probably become about four within the next -twelvemonth. There were no funds prepared with which to buy the -necessary furniture for the incoming of a wife, and there was that -debt demanded by his father. - -"Must that be paid?" asked the Colonel. - -"I would starve rather than not pay it," said Hamel, "if I alone were -to be considered. It would certainly be paid within the next six -months if I were alone, even though I should starve." - -Then his friend told him that the debt should be paid at once. It -amounted to but little more than a hundred pounds. And then, of -course, the conversation was carried further. When a friend inquires -as to the pecuniary distresses of a friend he feels himself as a -matter of course bound to relieve him. He would supply also the means -necessary for the incoming of the young wife. With much energy, and -for a long time, Hamel refused to accept the assistance offered -to him; but the Colonel insisted in the first place on what he -considered to be due from himself to Ayala's sister, and then on -the fact that he doubted not in the least the ultimate success -which would attend the professional industry of his friend. And so -before the day was over it was settled among them. The money was -to be forthcoming at once, so that the debt might be paid and the -preparations made, and Hamel was to write to Lucy and declare that he -should be ready to receive her as soon as arrangements should be made -for their immediate marriage. Then came the further outrage,--that -cruel speech as to intruders, and Lucy wrote to her lover, owning -that it would be well for her that she should be relieved. - -The news was, of course, declared to the family at Merle Park. "I -never knew anything so hard," said Aunt Emmeline. "Of course you have -told him that it was all my fault." When Lucy made no answer to this, -she went on with her complaint. "I know that you have told him that I -have turned you out,--which is not true." - -"I told him it was better I should go, as you did not like my being -here." - -"I suppose Lucy was in a little hurry to have the marriage come off," -said Augusta,--who would surely have spared her cousin if at the -moment she had remembered the haste which had been displayed by her -sister. - -"I thought it best," said Lucy. - -"I'm sure I don't know how it is to be done," said Aunt Emmeline. -"You must tell your uncle yourself. I don't know how you are to be -married from here, seeing the trouble we are in." - -"We shall be up in London before that," said Gertrude. - -"Or from Queen's Gate either," continued Aunt Emmeline. - -"I don't suppose that will much signify. I shall just go to the -church." - -"Like a servant-maid?" asked Gertrude. - -"Yes;--like a servant-maid," said Lucy. "That is to say, a -servant-maid would, I suppose, simply walk in and be married; and I -shall do the same." - -"I think you had better tell your uncle," said Aunt Emmeline. "But I -am sure I did not mean that you were to go away like this. It will be -your own doing, and I cannot help it if you will do it." - -Then Lucy did tell her uncle. "And you mean to live upon three -hundred a year!" exclaimed Sir Thomas. "You don't know what you are -talking about." - -"I think Mr. Hamel knows." - -"He is as ignorant as a babe unborn;--I mean about that kind of -thing. I don't doubt he can make things in stone as well as anybody." - -"In marble, Uncle Tom." - -"Marble is stone, I suppose;--or in iron." - -"Bronze, Uncle Tom." - -"Very well. There is iron in bronze, I suppose. But he doesn't know -what a wife will cost. Has he bought any furniture?" - -"He is going to buy it,--just a little;--what will do?" - -"Why should you want to bring him into this?" Lucy looked wistfully -up into his face. He himself had been personally kind to her, and she -found it to be impossible to complain to him of her aunt. "You are -not happy here?" - -"My aunt and cousins think that I am wrong; but I must be married to -him now, Uncle Tom." - -"Why did he kick up his heels when I wanted to help him?" -Nevertheless, he gave his orders on the subject very much in Lucy's -favour. She was to be married from Queen's Gate, and Gertrude must -be her bridesmaid. Ayala no doubt would be the other. When his wife -expostulated, he consented that the marriage should be very quiet, -but still he would have it as he had said. Then he bestowed a cheque -upon Lucy,--larger in amount than Stubbs's loan,--saying that after -what had passed in Lombard Street he would not venture to send money -to so independent a person as Mr. Isadore Hamel; but adding that -Lucy, perhaps, would condescend to accept it. There was a smile in -his eye as he said the otherwise ill-natured word, so that Lucy, -without any wound to her feelings, could kiss him and accept his -bounty. - -"I suppose I am to have nothing to do in settling the day," said Aunt -Emmeline. It was, however, settled between them that the marriage -should take place on a certain day in May. Upon this Lucy was of -course overjoyed, and wrote to her lover in a full flow of spirits. -And she sent him the cheque, having written her name with great pride -on the back of it. There was a little trouble about this as a part of -it had to come back as her trousseau, but still the arrangement was -pleasantly made. Then Sir Thomas again became more kind to her, in -his rough manner,--even when his troubles were at the worst after -the return of Gertrude. "If it will not be altogether oppressive to -his pride you may tell him that I shall make you an allowance of a -hundred a year as my niece,--just for your personal expenses." - -"I don't know that he is so proud, Uncle Tom." - -"He seemed so to me. But if you say nothing to him about it, and just -buy a few gowns now and again, he will perhaps be so wrapt up in the -higher affairs of his art as not to take any notice." - -"I am sure he will notice what I wear," said Lucy. However she -communicated her uncle's intentions to her lover, and he sent back -his grateful thanks to Sir Thomas. As one effect of all this the -Colonel's money was sent back to him, with an assurance that as -things were now settling themselves such pecuniary assistance was not -needed. But this was not done till Ayala had heard what the Angel of -Light had done on her sister's behalf. But as to Ayala's feelings -in that respect we must be silent here, as otherwise we should make -premature allusion to the condition in which Ayala found herself -before she had at last managed to escape from Stalham Park. - -"Papa," said Gertrude, to her father one evening, "don't you think -you could do something for me too now?" Just at this time Sir Thomas, -greatly to his own annoyance, was coming down to Merle Park every -evening. According to their plans as at present arranged, they were -to stay in the country till after Easter, and then they were to go up -to town in time to despatch poor Tom upon his long journey round the -world. But poor Tom was now in bed, apparently ill, and there seemed -to be great doubt whether he could be made to go on the appointed -day in spite of the taking of his berth and the preparation of his -outfit. Tom, if well enough, was to sail on the nineteenth of April, -and there now wanted not above ten days to that time. "Don't you -think you could do something for me now?" asked Gertrude. Hitherto -Sir Thomas had extended no sign of pardon to his youngest daughter, -and never failed to allude to her and to Captain Batsby as "those two -idiots" whenever their names were mentioned before him. - -"Yes, my dear; I will endeavour to do a good deal for you if you will -behave yourself." - -"What do you call behaving myself, papa?" - -"In the first place telling me that you are very sorry for your -misbehaviour with that idiot." - -"Of course I am sorry if I have offended you." - -"Well, that shall go for something. But how about the idiot?" - -"Papa!" she exclaimed. - -"Was he not an idiot? Would any one but an idiot have gone on such an -errand as that?" - -"Gentlemen and ladies have done it before, papa." - -"I doubt it," he said. "Gentlemen have run away with young ladies -before, and generally have behaved very badly when they have done so. -He behaved very badly indeed, because he had come to my house, with -my sanction, with the express purpose of expressing his affection -for another young lady. But I think that his folly in this special -running away was worse even than his conduct. How did he come -to think that he could get himself married merely by crossing -over the sea to Ostend? I should be utterly ashamed of him as a -son-in-law,--chiefly because he has shown himself to be an idiot." - -"But, papa, you will accept him, won't you?" - -"No, my dear, I will not." - -"Not though I love him?" - -"If I were to give you a choice which you would take, him or Mr. -Houston?" - -"Houston is a scoundrel." - -"Very likely; but then he is not an idiot. My choice would be -altogether in favour of Mr. Houston. Shall I tell you what I will do, -my dear? I will consent to accept Captain Batsby as my son-in-law if -he will consent to become your husband without having a shilling with -you." - -"Would that be kind, papa?" - -"I do not think that I can show you any greater kindness than to -protect you from a man who I am quite sure does not care a farthing -about you. He has, you tell me, an ample income of his own." - -"Oh yes, papa." - -"Then he can afford to marry you without a fortune. Poor Mr. Houston -could not have done so, because he had nothing of his own. I declare, -as I think of it all, I am becoming very tender-hearted towards Mr. -Houston. Don't you think we had better have Mr. Houston back again? -I suppose he would come if you were to send for him." Then she burst -into tears and went away and hid herself. - - - - -CHAPTER LIV. - -TOM'S LAST ATTEMPT. - - -While Gertrude was still away on her ill-omened voyage in quest of a -parson, Lady Tringle was stirred up to a great enterprise on behalf -of her unhappy son. There wanted now little more than a fortnight -before the starting of the ship which his father still declared -should carry him out across the world, and he had progressed so far -in contemplating the matter as to own to himself that it would be -best for him to obey his father if there was no hope. But his mind -was still swayed by a theory of love and constancy. He had heard of -men who had succeeded after a dozen times of asking. If Stubbs, the -hated but generous Stubbs, were in truth a successful rival, then -indeed the thing would be over;--then he would go, the sooner the -better; and, as he told his mother half-a-dozen times a day, it would -matter nothing to him whether he were sent to Japan, or the Rocky -Mountains, or the North Pole. In such case he would be quite content -to go, if only for the sake of going. But how was he to be sure? He -was, indeed, nearly sure in the other direction. If Ayala were in -truth engaged to Colonel Stubbs it would certainly be known through -Lucy. Then he had heard, through Lucy, that, though Ayala was staying -at Stalham, the Colonel was not there. He had gone, and Ayala had -remained week after week without him. Then, towards the end of March, -he wrote a letter to his Uncle Reginald, which was very piteous in -its tone;-- - -"DEAR UNCLE REGINALD," the letter said, - - - I don't know whether you have heard of it, but I have - been very ill--and unhappy. I am now in bed, and nobody - here knows that I am sending this letter to you. It is - all about Ayala, and I am not such a fool as to suppose - that you can do anything for me. If you could I think - you would,--but of course you can't. She must choose for - herself,--only I do so wish that she should choose me. - Nobody would ever be more kind to her. But you can tell - me really how it is. Is she engaged to marry Colonel - Stubbs? I know that she refused him, because he told me - so himself. If she is not engaged to him I think that - I would have another shy at it. You know what the poet - says,--"Faint heart never won fair lady." Do tell me if - she is or is not engaged. I know that she is with those - Alburys, and that Colonel Stubbs is their friend. But - they can't make her marry Colonel Stubbs any more than my - friends can make her marry me. I wish they could. I mean - my friends, not his. - - If she were really engaged I would go away and hide myself - in the furthermost corner of the world. Siberia or Central - Africa would be the same to me. They would have little - trouble in getting rid of me if I knew that it was all - over with me. BUT I WILL NEVER STIR FROM THESE REALMS TILL - I KNOW MY FATE!--Therefore, waiting your reply, I am your - affectionate nephew, - - THOMAS TRINGLE, junior. - - -Mr. Dosett, when he received this letter, consulted his wife before -he replied to it, and then did so very shortly;-- - - - MY DEAR TOM, - - As far as I know, or her aunt, your cousin Ayala is not - engaged to marry any one. But I should deceive you if I - did not add my belief that she is resolved not to accept - the offer you have done her the honour to make her. - - Your affectionate uncle, - - REGINALD DOSETT. - - -The latter portion of this paragraph had no influence whatsoever -on Tom. Did he not know all that before? Had he ever attempted to -conceal from his relations the fact that Ayala had refused him again -and again? Was not that as notorious to the world at large as a -minister's promise that the income-tax should be abolished? But the -income-tax was not abolished,--and, as yet, Ayala was not married to -any one else. Ayala was not even engaged to any other suitor. Why -should she not change her mind as well as the minister? Certainly he -would not go either to the North Pole or to New York as long as there -should be a hope of bliss for him in England. Then he called his -mother to his bedside. - -"Go to Stalham, my dear!" said his mother. - -"Why not? They can't eat you. Lady Albury is no more than a Baronet's -wife,--just the same as you." - -"It isn't about eating me, Tom. I shouldn't know what to say to -them." - -"You need not tell them anything. Say that you had come to call upon -your niece." - -"But it would be such an odd thing to do. I never do call on -Ayala,--even when I am in London." - -"What does it matter being odd? You could learn the truth at any -rate. If she does not care for any one else why shouldn't she have -me? I could make her a baronet's wife,--that is, some day when the -governor--" - -"Don't, Tom;--don't talk in that way." - -"I only mean in the course of nature. Sons do come after their -fathers, you know. And as for money, I suppose the governor is quite -as rich as those Alburys." - -"I don't think that would matter." - -"It does count, mother. I suppose Ayala is the same as other girls in -that respect. I am sure I don't know why it is that she should have -taken such an aversion to me. I suppose it is that she doesn't think -me so much,--quite such a swell as some other men." - -"One can't account for such things, Tom." - -"No;--that is just it. And therefore she might come round without -accounting for it. At any rate, you might try. You might tell her -that it is ruining me;--that I shall have to go about wandering over -all the world because she is so hard-hearted." - -"I don't think I could, my dear," said Lady Tringle, after -considering the matter for a while. - -"Why not? Is it because of the trouble?" - -"No, my dear; a mother does not think what trouble she may take for -her child, if any good may be done. It is not the trouble. I would -walk all round England to get her for you if that would do it." - -"Why not, then? At any rate you might get an answer from her. She -would tell you something of her intention. Mother, I shall never -go away till I know more about it than I do now. The governor says -that he will turn me out. Let him turn me out. That won't make me go -away." - -"Oh, Tom, he doesn't mean it." - -"But he says it. If I knew that it was all over,--that every chance -was gone, then I would go away." - -"It is not the Alburys that I am afraid of," said Lady Tringle. - -"What then?" - -"It is your father. I cannot go if he will not let me." Nevertheless -she promised before she left his bedside that she would ask Sir -Thomas when he came home whether he would permit her to make the -journey. All this occurred while Sir Thomas was away in quest of his -daughter. And it may be imagined that immediately after his return he -was hardly in a humour to yield to any such request as that which had -been suggested. He was for the moment almost sick of his children, -sick of Merle Park, sick of his wife, and inclined to think that -the only comfort to be found in the world was to be had among his -millions, in that little back parlour in Lombard Street. - -It was on a Sunday that he returned, and on that day he did not see -his son. On the Monday morning he went into the room, and Tom was -about to press upon him the prayer which he had addressed to his -mother when his lips were closed by his father's harshness. "Tom," -he said, "you will be pleased to remember that you start on the -nineteenth." - -"But, father--" - -"You start on the nineteenth," said Sir Thomas. Then he left the -room, closing the door behind him with none of the tenderness -generally accorded to an invalid. - -"You have not asked him?" Tom said to his mother shortly afterwards. - -"Not yet, my dear. His mind is so disturbed by this unfortunate -affair." - -"And is not my mind disturbed? You may tell him that I will not go, -though he should turn me out a dozen times, unless I know more about -it than I do now." - -Sir Thomas came home again that evening, very sour in temper, and -nothing could be said to him. He was angry with everybody, and Lady -Tringle hardly dared to go near him, either then or on the following -morning. On the Tuesday evening, however, he returned somewhat -softened in his demeanour. The millions had perhaps gone right, -though his children would go so wrong. When he spoke either to his -younger daughter or of her he did so in that jeering tone which he -afterwards always assumed when allusion was made to Captain Batsby, -and which, disagreeable as it was, seemed to imply something of -forgiveness. And he ate his dinner, and drank his glass of wine, -without making any allusion to the parsimonious habits of his -son-in-law, Mr. Traffick. Lady Tringle, therefore, considered that -she might approach him with Tom's request. - -"You go to Stalham!" he exclaimed. - -"Well, my dear, I suppose I could see her?" - -"And what could you learn from her?" - -"I don't suppose I could learn much. She was always a pig-headed, -stiff-necked creature. I am sure it wouldn't be any pleasure to me to -see her." - -"What good would it do?" demanded Sir Thomas. - -"Well, my dear; he says that he won't go unless he can get a message -from her. I am sure I don't want to go to Stalham. Nothing on earth -could be so disagreeable. But perhaps I could bring back a word or -two which would make him go upon his journey." - -"What sort of word?" - -"Why;--if I were to say that she were engaged to this Colonel Stubbs, -then he would go. He says that he would start at once if he knew that -his cousin were really engaged to somebody else." - -"But if she be not?" - -"Perhaps I could just colour it a little. It would be such a grand -thing to get him away, and he in this miserable condition! If he were -once on his travels, I do think he would soon begin to forget it -all." - -"Of course he would," said Sir Thomas. - -"Then I might as well try. He has set his heart upon it, and if he -thinks that I have done his bidding then he will obey you. As for -turning him out, Tom, of course you do not really mean that!" - -In answer to this Sir Thomas said nothing. He knew well enough that -Tom couldn't be turned out. That turning out of a son is a difficult -task to accomplish, and one altogether beyond the power of Sir -Thomas. The chief cause of his sorrow lay in the fact that he, as the -head of Travers and Treason, was debarred from the assistance and -companionship of his son. All Travers and Treason was nothing to him, -because his son would run so far away from the right path. There was -nothing he would not do to bring him back. If Ayala could have been -bought by any reasonable, or even unreasonable, amount of thousands, -he would have bought her willingly for his boy's delight. It was a -thing wonderful to him that Tom should have been upset so absolutely -by his love. He did appreciate the feeling so far that he was willing -to condone all those follies already committed if Tom would only put -himself in the way of recovery. That massacreing of the policeman, -those ill-spent nights at the Mountaineers and at Bolivia's, that -foolish challenge, and the almost more foolish blow under the portico -at the Haymarket, should all be forgiven if Tom would only consent -to go through some slight purgation which would again fit him for -Travers and Treason. And the purgation should be made as pleasant as -possible. He should travel about the world with his pocket full of -money and with every arrangement for luxurious comfort. Only he must -go. There was no other way in which he could be so purged as to be -again fit for Travers and Treason. He did not at all believe that -Ayala could now be purchased. Whether pig-headed or not, Ayala was -certainly self-willed. No good such as Tom expected would come from -this projected visit to Stalham. But if he would allow it to be made -in obedience to Tom's request,--then perhaps some tidings might be -brought back which, whether strictly true or not, might induce Tom to -allow himself to be put on board the ship. Arguing thus with himself, -Sir Thomas at last gave his consent. - -It was a most disagreeable task which the mother thus undertook. -She could not go from Merle Park to Stalham and back in one day. It -was necessary that she should sleep two nights in London. It was -arranged, therefore, that she should go up to London on the Thursday; -then make her journey down to Stalham and back on the Friday, and -get home on the Saturday. There would then still remain nearly a -fortnight before Tom would have to leave Merle Park. After much -consideration it was decided that a note should be written to Ayala -apprising her of her aunt's coming. "I hope Lady Albury will not be -surprised at my visit," said the note, "but I am so anxious to see -you, just for half-an-hour, upon a matter of great importance, that I -shall run my chance." She would prefer to have seen the girl without -any notice; but then, had no notice been given, the girl would -perhaps have been out of the way. As it was a telegram was received -back in reply. "I shall be at home. Lady Albury will be very glad to -see you at lunch. She says there shall be a room all ready if you -will sleep." - -"I certainly shall not stay there," Lady Tringle said to Mrs. -Traffick, "but it is as well to know that they will be civil to me." - -"They are stuck-up sort of people I believe," said Augusta; "just -like that Marchesa Baldoni, who is one of them. But, as to their -being civil, that is a matter of course. They would hardly be uncivil -to any one connected with Lord Boardotrade!" - -Then came the Thursday on which the journey was to be commenced. As -the moment came near Lady Tringle was very much afraid of the task -before her. She was afraid even of her niece Ayala, who had assumed -increased proportions in her eyes since she had persistently refused -not only Tom but also Colonel Stubbs and Captain Batsby, and then in -spite of her own connexion with Lord Boardotrade,--of whom since her -daughter's marriage she had learned to think less than she had done -before,--she did feel that the Alburys were fashionable people, and -that Ayala as their guest had achieved something for herself. Stalham -was, no doubt, superior in general estimation to Merle Park, and with -her there had been always a certain awe of Ayala, which she had not -felt in reference to Lucy. Ayala's demand that Augusta should go -upstairs and fetch the scrap-book had had its effect,--as had also -her success in going up St. Peter's and to the Marchesa's dance; and -then there would be Lady Albury herself,--and all the Alburys! Only -that Tom was very anxious, she would even now have abandoned the -undertaking. - -"Mother," said Tom, on the last morning, "you will do the best you -can for me." - -"Oh yes, my dear." - -"I do think that, if you would make her understand the real truth, -she might have me yet. She wouldn't like that a fellow should die." - -"I am afraid that she is hard-hearted, Tom." - -"I do not believe it, mother. I have seen her when she wouldn't kill -even a fly. If she could only be made to see all the good she could -do." - -"I am afraid she won't care for that unless she can bring herself -really to love you." - -"Why shouldn't she love me?" - -"Ah, my boy; how am I to tell you? Perhaps if you hadn't loved her so -well it might have been different. If you had scorned her--" - -"Scorn her! I couldn't scorn her. I have heard of that kind of thing -before, but how is one to help oneself? You can't scorn a friend -just because you choose to say so to yourself. When I see her she is -something so precious to me that I could not be rough to her to save -my life. When she first came it wasn't so. I could laugh at her then. -But now--! They talk about goddesses, but I am sure she is a goddess -to me." - -"If you had made no more than a woman of her it might have been -better, Tom." All that was too late now. The doctrine which Lady -Tringle was enunciating to her son, and which he repudiated, is one -that has been often preached and never practised. A man when he is -conscious of the presence of a mere woman, to whom he feels that no -worship is due, may for his own purpose be able to tell a lie to her, -and make her believe that he acknowledges a divinity in her presence. -But, when he feels the goddess, he cannot carry himself before her as -though she were a mere woman, and, as such, inferior to himself in -her attributes. Poor Tom had felt the touch of something divine, and -had fallen immediately prostrate before the shrine with his face to -the ground. His chance with Ayala could in no circumstances have been -great; but she was certainly not one to have yielded to a prostrate -worshipper. - -"Mother!" said Tom, recalling Lady Tringle as she was leaving the -room. - -"What is it, my dear? I must really go now or I shall be too late for -the train." - -"Mother, tell her, tell her,--tell her that I love her." His mother -ran back, kissed his brow, and then left the room. - -Lady Tringle spent that evening in Queen's Gate, where Sir Thomas -remained with her. The hours passed heavily, as they had not much -present to their mind with which to console each other. Sir Thomas -had no belief whatever in the journey except in so far as it might -help to induce his son to proceed upon his travels;--but his wife had -been so far softened by poor Tom's sorrows as to hope a little, in -spite of her judgment, that Ayala might yet relent. Her heart was -soft towards her son, so that she felt that the girl would deserve -all manner of punishment unless she would at last yield to Tom's -wishes. She was all but sure that it could not be so, and yet, in -spite of her convictions, she hoped. - -On the next morning the train took her safely to the Stalham Road -Station, and as she approached the end of her journey her heart -became heavier within her. She felt that she could not but fail to -give any excuse to the Alburys for such a journey,--unless, indeed, -Ayala should do as she would have her. At the station she found the -Albury carriage, with the Albury coachman, and the Albury footman, -and the Albury liveries, waiting for her. It was a closed carriage, -and for a moment she thought that Ayala might be there. In that case -she could have performed her commission in the carriage, and then -have returned to London without going to the house at all. But Ayala -was not there. Lady Tringle was driven up to the house, and then -taken through the hall into a small sitting-room, where for a moment -she was alone. Then the door opened, and Ayala, radiant with beauty, -in all the prettiness of her best morning costume, was in a moment -in her arms. She seemed in her brightness to be different from that -Ayala who had been known before at Glenbogie and in Rome. "Dear -aunt," said Ayala, "I am so delighted to see you at Stalham!" - - - - -CHAPTER LV. - -IN THE CASTLE THERE LIVED A KNIGHT. - - -Ayala was compelled to consent to remain at Stalham. The "I don't -think" which she repeated so often was, of course, of no avail to -her. Sir Harry would be angry, and Lady Albury would be disgusted, -were she to go,--and so she remained. There was to be a week before -Colonel Stubbs would come, and she was to remain not only for the -week but also for some short time afterwards,--so that there might -be yet a few days left of hunting under the Colonel. It could -not, surely, have been doubtful to her after she had read that -letter,--with the postscript,--that if she remained her happiness -would be insured! He would not have come again and insisted on -her being there to receive him if nothing were to come of it. And -yet she had fought for permission to return to Kingsbury Crescent -after her little fashion, and had at last yielded, as she told Lady -Albury,--because Sir Harry seemed to wish it. "Of course he wishes -it," said Lady Albury. "He has got the pony on purpose, and nobody -likes being disappointed when he has done a thing so much as Sir -Harry." Ayala, delighted as she was, did not make her secret known. -She was fluttered, and apparently uneasy,--so that her friend did -not know what to make of it, or which way to take it. Ayala's secret -was to herself a secret still to be maintained with holy reticence. -It might still be possible that Jonathan Stubbs should never say -another word to her of his love. If he did,--why then all the world -might know. Then there would be no secret. Then she could sit and -discuss her love, and his love, all night long with Lady Albury, -if Lady Albury would listen to her. In the meantime the secret -must be a secret. To confess her love, and then to have her love -disappointed,--that would be death to her! - -And thus it went on through the whole week, Lady Albury not quite -knowing what to make of it. Once she did say a word, thinking that -she would thus extract the truth, not as yet understanding how potent -Ayala could be to keep her secret. "That man has, at any rate, been -very true to you," she said. Ayala frowned, and shook her head, -and would not say a word upon the subject. "If she did not mean to -take him now, surely she would have gone," Lady Albury said to her -husband. - -"She is a pretty little girl enough," said Sir Harry, "but I doubt -whether she is worth all the trouble." - -"Of course she is not. What pretty little girl ever was? But as long -as he thinks her worth it the trouble has to be taken." - -"Of course she'll accept him?" - -"I am not at all so sure of it. She has been made to believe that you -wanted her to stay, and therefore she has stayed. She is quite master -enough of herself to ride out hunting with him again and then to -refuse him." And so Lady Albury doubted up to the Sunday, and all -through the Sunday,--up to the very moment when the last preparations -were to be made for the man's arrival. - -The train reached the Stalham Road Station at 7 P.M., and the -distance was five miles. On Sundays they usually dined at Stalham at -7.30. The hour fixed was to be 8 on this occasion,--and even with -this there would be some bustling. The house was now nearly empty, -there being no visitors there except Mr. and Mrs. Gosling and Ayala. -Lady Albury gave many thoughts to the manner of the man's reception, -and determined at last that Jonathan should have an opportunity of -saying a word to Ayala immediately on his arrival if he so pleased. -"Mind you are down at half-past seven," she said to Ayala, coming to -her in her bedroom. - -"I thought we should not dine till eight." - -"There is no knowing. Sir Harry is so fussy. I shall be down, and I -should like you to be with me." Then Ayala promised. "And mind you -have his frock on." - -"You'll make me wear it out before any one else sees it," she said, -laughing. But again she promised. She got a glimmer of light from it -all, nearly understanding what Lady Albury intended. But against such -intentions as these she had no reason to fight. Why should she not be -ready to see him? Why should she not have on her prettiest dress when -he came? If he meant to say the word,--then her prettiest dress would -all be too poor, and her readiest ears not quick enough to meet so -great a joy. If he were not to say the other word,--then should she -shun him by staying behind, or be afraid of the encounter? Should she -be less gaily attired because it would be unnecessary to please his -eye? - -Oh, no! "I'll be there at half-past seven," she said. "But I know the -train will be late, and Sir Harry won't get his dinner till nine." - -"Then, my dear, great as the Colonel is, he may come in and get what -is left for him in the middle. Sir Harry will not wait a minute after -eight." - -The buxom woman came and dressed her. The buxom woman probably knew -what was going to happen;--was perhaps more keenly alive to the truth -than Lady Albury herself. "We have taken great care of it, haven't -we, Miss?" she said, as she fastened the dress behind. "It's just as -new still." - -"New!" said Ayala. "It has got to be new with me for the next two -years." - -"I don't know much about that, Miss. Somebody will have to pay for -a good many more new dresses before two years are over, I take it." -To this Ayala made no answer, but she was quite sure that the buxom -woman intended to imply that Colonel Stubbs would have to pay for the -new dresses. - -Punctually at half-past seven she was in the drawing-room, and there -she remained alone for a few minutes. She endeavoured to sit down -and be quiet, but she found it impossible to compose herself. Almost -immediately he would be there, and then,--as she was quite sure,--her -fate would be known to her instantly. She knew that the first moment -of his presence in the room with her would tell her everything. -If that were told to her which she desired to hear, everything -should be re-told to him as quickly. But, if it were otherwise, -then she thought that when the moment came she would still have -strength enough to hide her sorrow. If he had come simply for the -hunting,--simply that they two might ride a-hunting together so that -he might show to her that all traces of his disappointment were -gone,--then she would know how to teach him to think that her heart -towards him was as it had ever been. The thing to be done would be so -sad as to call from her tears almost of blood in her solitude; but -it should be so done that no one should know that any sorrow such as -this had touched her bosom. Not even to Lucy should this secret be -told. - -There was a clock on the mantelpiece to which her eye was continually -turned. It now wanted twenty minutes to eight, and she was aware that -if the train was punctual he might now be at the hall-door. At this -moment Lady Albury entered the room. "Your knight has come at last," -she said; "I hear his wheels on the gravel." - -"He is no knight of mine," said Ayala, with that peculiar frown of -hers. - -"Whose ever knight he is, there he is. Knight or not, I must go and -welcome him." Then Lady Albury hurried out of the room and Ayala -was again alone. The door had been left partly open, so that she -could hear the sound of voices and steps across the inner hall or -billiard-room. There were the servants waiting upon him, and Sir -Harry bidding him to go up and dress at once so as not to keep -the whole house waiting, and Lady Albury declaring that there was -yet ample time as the dinner certainly would not be on the table -for half-an-hour. She heard it all, and heard him to whom all her -thoughts were now given laughing as he declared that he had never -been so cold in his life, and that he certainly would not dress -himself till he had warmed his fingers. She was far away from the -door, not having stirred from the spot on which she was standing -when Lady Albury left her; but she fancied that she heard the murmur -of some slight whisper, and she told herself that Lady Albury was -telling him where to seek her. Then she heard the sound of the man's -step across the billiard-room, she heard his hand upon the door, and -there he was in her presence! - -When she thought of it all afterwards, as she did so many scores of -times, she never could tell how it had occurred. When she accused him -in her playfulness, telling him that he had taken for granted that -of which he had had no sign, she never knew whether there had been -aught of truth in her accusation. But she did know that he had hardly -closed the door behind him when she was in his arms, and felt the -burning love of his kisses upon her cheeks. There had been no more -asking whether he was to have any other answer. Of that she was quite -sure. Had there been such further question she would have answered -him, and some remembrance of her own words would have remained with -her. She was quite sure that she had answered no question. Some -memory of mingled granting and denying, of repulses and assents all -quickly huddled upon one another, of attempts to escape while she was -so happy to remain, and then of a deluge of love terms which fell -upon her ears,--"his own one, his wife, his darling, his Ayala, at -last his own sweet Ayala,"--this was what remained to her of that -little interview. She had not spoken a word. She thought she was sure -of that. Her breath had left her,--so that she could not speak. And -yet it had been taken for granted,--though on former occasions he had -pleaded with slow piteous words! How had it been that he had come to -know the truth so suddenly? Then she became aware that Lady Albury -was speaking to Mrs. Gosling in the billiard-room outside, detaining -her other guest till the scene within should be over. At that moment -she did speak a word which she remembered afterwards. "Go;--go; you -must go now." Then there had been one other soft repulse, one other -sweet assent, and the man had gone. There was just a moment for her, -in which to tell herself that the Angel of Light had come for her, -and had taken her to himself. - -Mrs. Gosling, who was a pretty little woman, crept softly into the -room, hiding her suspicion if she had any. Lady Albury put out her -hand to Ayala behind the other woman's back, not raising it high, but -just so that her young friend might touch it if she pleased. Ayala -did touch it, sliding her little fingers into the offered grasp. "I -thought it would be so," whispered Lady Albury. "I thought it would -be so." - -"What the deuce are you all up to," said Sir Harry, bursting into -the room. "It's eight now, and that man has only just gone up to his -room." - -"He hasn't been in the house above five minutes yet," said Lady -Albury, "and I think he has been very quick." Ayala thought so too. - -During dinner and afterwards they were very full of hunting for the -next day. It was wonderful to Ayala that there should be thought for -such a trifle when there was such a thing as love in the world. While -there was so much to fill her heart, how could there be thoughts -of anything else? But Jonathan,--he was Jonathan to her now, her -Jonathan, her Angel of Light,--was very keen upon the subject. There -was but one week left. He thought that Croppy might manage three days -as there was to be but one week. Croppy would have leisure and rest -enough afterwards. "It's a little sharp," said Sir Harry. - -"Oh, pray don't," said Ayala. - -But Lady Albury and Jonathan together silenced Sir Harry, and Mrs. -Gosling proved the absurdity of the objection by telling the story of -a pony who had carried a lady three days running. "I should not have -liked to be either the pony, or the owner, or the lady," said Sir -Harry. But he was silenced. What did it matter though the heavens -fell, so that Ayala was pleased? What is too much to be done for a -girl who proves herself to be an angel by accepting the right man at -the right time? - -She had but one moment alone with her lover that night. "I always -loved you," she whispered to him as she fled away. The Colonel did -not quite understand the assertion, but he was contented with it as -he sat smoking his cigar with Sir Harry and Mr. Gosling. - -But, though she could have but one word that night with her lover, -there were many words between her and Lady Albury before they went to -bed. "And so, like wise people, you have settled it all between you -at last," said Lady Albury. - -"I don't know whether he is wise." - -"We will take that for granted. At any rate he has been very true." - -"Oh, yes." - -"And you,--you knew all about it." - -"No;--I knew nothing. I did not think he would ever ask again. I only -hoped." - -"But why on earth did you give him so much trouble?" - -"I can't tell you," said Ayala, shaking her head. - -"Do you mean that there is still a secret?" - -"No, not that. I would tell you anything that I could tell, because -you have been so very, very good to me. But I cannot tell. I cannot -explain even to myself. Oh, Lady Albury, why have you been so good to -me?" - -"Shall I say because I have loved you?" - -"Yes;--if it be true." - -"But it is not true." - -"Oh, Lady Albury!" - -"I do love you dearly. I shall always love you now. I do hope I shall -love you now, because you will be his wife. But I have not been kind -to you as you call it because I loved you." - -"Then why?" - -"Because I loved him. Cannot you understand that? Because I was -anxious that he should have all that he wanted. Was it not necessary -that there should be some house in which he might meet you? Could -there have been much of a pleasant time for wooing between you in -your aunt's drawing-room in Kingsbury Crescent?" - -"Oh, no," said Ayala. - -"Could he have taken you out hunting unless you had been here? How -could he and you have known each other at all unless I had been kind -to you? Now you will understand." - -"Yes," said Ayala, "I understand now. Did he ask you?" - -"Well,--he consulted me. We talked you all over, and made up our -minds, between us, that if we petted you down here that would be the -best way to win you. Were we not right?" - -"It was a very nice way. I do so like to be petted." - -"Sir Harry was in the secret, and he did his petting by buying the -frock. That was a success too, I think." - -"Did he care about that, Lady Albury?" - -"What he?" - -"Jonathan," said Ayala, almost stumbling over the word, as she -pronounced it aloud for the first time. - -"I think he liked it. But whether he would have persevered without it -you must ask yourself. If he tells you that he would never have said -another word to you only for this frock, then I think you ought to -thank Sir Harry, and give him a kiss." - -"I am sure he will not tell me that," said Ayala, with mock -indignation. - -"And now, my dear, as I have told you all my secret, and have -explained to you how we laid our heads together, and plotted against -you, I think you ought to tell me your secret. Why was it that you -refused him so pertinaciously on that Sunday when you were out -walking, and yet you knew your mind about it so clearly as soon as he -arrived to-day?" - -"I can't explain it," said Ayala. - -"You must know that you liked him." - -"I always liked him." - -"You must have more than liked on that Sunday." - -"I adored him." - -"Then I don't understand you." - -"Lady Albury, I think I fell in love with him the first moment I saw -him. The Marchesa took me to a party in London, and there he was." - -"Did he say anything to you then?" - -"No. He was very funny,--as he often is. Don't you know his way? -I remember every word he said to me. He came up without any -introduction and ordered me to dance with him." - -"And you did?" - -"Oh yes. Whatever he told me I should have done. Then he scolded me -because I did not stand up quick enough. And he invented some story -about a woman who was engaged to him and would not marry him because -he had red hair and his name was Jonathan. I knew it was all a joke, -and yet I hated the woman." - -"That must have been love at first sight." - -"I think it was. From that day to this I have always been thinking -about him." - -"And yet you refused him twice over?" - -"Yes." - -"At ever so long an interval?" Ayala bobbed her head at her -companion. "And why?" - -"Ah;--that I can't tell. I shall try to tell him some day, but I know -that I never shall. It was because--. But, Lady Albury, I cannot tell -it. Did you ever picture anything to yourself in a waking dream?" - -"Build castles in the air?" suggested Lady Albury. - -"That's just it." - -"Very often. But they never come true." - -"Never have come true,--exactly. I had a castle in the air, and in -the castle lived a knight." She was still ashamed to say that the -inhabitant of the castle was an Angel of Light. "I wanted to find out -whether he was the knight who lived there. He was." - -"And you were not quite sure till to-day?" - -"I have been sure a long time. But when we walked out on that Sunday -I was such an idiot that I did not know how to tell him. Oh, Lady -Albury, I was such a fool! What should I have done if he hadn't come -back?" - -"Sent for him." - -"Never;--never! I should have been miserable always! But now I am so -happy." - -"He is the real knight?" - -"Oh, yes; indeed. He is the real,--real knight, that has always been -living in my castle." - -Ayala's promotion was now so firmly fixed that the buxom female came -to assist her off with her clothes when Lady Albury had left her. -From this time forth it was supposed that such assistance would be -necessary. "I take it, Miss," said the buxom female, "there will be a -many new dresses before the end of this time two years." From which -Ayala was quite sure that everybody in the house knew all about it. - - - * * * * * * - - -But it was now, now when she was quite alone, that the great sense -of her happiness came to her. In the fulness of her dreams there -had never been more than the conviction that such a being, and none -other, could be worthy of her love. There had never been faith in the -hope that such a one would come to her,--never even though she would -tell herself that angels had come down from heaven and had sought in -marriage the hands of the daughters of men. Her dreams had been to -her a barrier against love rather than an encouragement. But now he -that she had in truth dreamed of had come for her. Then she brought -out the Marchesa's letter and read that description of her lover. -Yes; he was all that; true, brave, tender,--a very hero. But then -he was more than all that,--for he was in truth the very "Angel of -Light." - - - - -CHAPTER LVI. - -GOBBLEGOOSE WOOD AGAIN. - - -The Monday was devoted to hunting. I am not at all sure that riding -about the country with a pack of hounds is an amusement specially -compatible with that assured love entertainment which was now within -the reach of Ayala and her Angel. For the rudiments of love-making, -for little endearing attentions, for a few sweet words to be -whispered with shortened breath as one horse gallops beside another, -perhaps for a lengthened half-hour together, amidst the mazes of -a large wood when opportunities are no doubt given for private -conversation, hunting may be very well. But for two persons who are -engaged, with the mutual consent of all their friends, a comfortable -sofa is perhaps preferable. Ayala had heard as yet but very little -of her lover's intentions;--was acquainted only with that one single -intention which he had declared in asking her to be his wife. There -were a thousand things to be told,--the how, the where, and the when. -She knew hitherto the why, and that was all. Nothing could be told -her while she was galloping about a big wood on Croppy's back. "I -am delighted to see you again in these parts, Miss," said Larry -Twentyman, suddenly. - -"Oh, Mr. Twentyman; how is the baby?" - -"The baby is quite well, Miss. His mamma has been out ever so many -times." - -"I ought to have asked for her first. Does baby come out too?" - -"Not quite. But when the hounds are near mamma comes for an hour or -so. We have had a wonderful season,--quite wonderful. You have heard, -perhaps, of our great run from Dillsborough Wood. We found him there, -close to my place, you know, and run him down in the Brake country -after an hour and forty minutes. There were only five or six of them. -You'd have been one, Miss, to a moral, if you'd have been here on the -pony. I say we never changed our fox." - -Ayala was well disposed towards Larry Twentyman, and was quite aware -that, according to the records and established usages of that hunt, -he was a man with whom she might talk safely. But she did not care -about the foxes so much as she had done before. There was nothing -now for which she cared much, except Jonathan Stubbs. He was always -riding near her throughout the day, so that he might be with her -should there arise anything special to be done; but he was not always -close to her,--as she would have had him. He had gained his purpose, -and he was satisfied. She had entered in upon the fruition of -positive bliss, but enjoyed it in perfection only when she heard the -sound of his voice, or could look into his eyes as she spoke to him. -She did not care much about the great run from Dillsborough, or even -for the compliment with which Mr. Twentyman finished his narrative. -They were riding about the big woods all day, not without killing -a fox, but with none of the excitement of a real run. "After that -Croppy will be quite fit to come again on Wednesday," suggested the -Colonel on their way home. To which Sir Harry assented. - -"What do you folks mean to do to-day?" asked Lady Albury at breakfast -on the following morning. Ayala had her own little plan in her head, -but did not dare to propose it publicly. "Will you choose to be -driven, or will you choose to walk?" said Lady Albury, addressing -herself to Ayala. Ayala, in her present position, was considered to -be entitled to special consideration. Ayala thought she would prefer -to walk. At last there came a moment in which she could make her -request to the person chiefly concerned. "Walk with me to the wood -with that absurd name," suggested Ayala. - -"Gobblegoose Wood," suggested the Colonel. Then that was arranged -according to Ayala's wishes. - -A walk in a wood is perhaps almost as good as a comfortable seat in a -drawing-room, and is, perhaps, less liable to intrusion. They started -and walked the way which Ayala remembered so well when she had -trudged along, pretending to listen to Sir Harry and Captain Glomax -as they carried on their discussion about the hunted fox, but giving -all her ears to the Colonel, and wondering whether he would say -anything to her before the day was over. Then her mind had been in a -perturbed state which she herself had failed to understand. She was -sure that she would say "No" to him, should he speak, and yet she -desired that it should be "Yes." What a fool she had been, she told -herself as she walked along now, and how little she had deserved all -the good that had come to her! - -The conversation was chiefly with him as they went. He told her much -now of the how, and the when, and the where. He hoped there might be -no long delay. He would live, he said, for the next year or two at -Aldershot, and would be able to get a house fit for her on condition -that they should be married at once. He did not explain why the house -could not be taken even though their marriage were delayed two or -three months,--but as to this she asked no questions. Of course they -must be married in London if Mrs. Dosett wished it; but if not it -might be arranged that the wedding should take place at Stalham. -Upon all this and many other things he had much to propose, and -all that he said Ayala accepted as gospel. As the Angel of Light -had appeared,--as the knight who was lord of the castle had come -forth,--of course he must be obeyed in everything. He could hardly -have made a suggestion to which she would not have acceded. When they -had entered the wood Ayala in her own quiet way led him to the very -spot in which on that former day he had asked her his question. "Do -you remember this path?" she asked. - -"I remember that you and I were walking here together," he said. - -"Ay, but this very turn? Do you remember this branch?" - -"Well, no; not the branch." - -"You put your hand on it when you said that 'never--never,' to me." - -"Did I say 'never,--never'?" - -"Yes, you did;--when I was so untrue to you." - -"Were you untrue?" he asked. - -"Jonathan, you remember nothing about it. It has all passed away from -you just as though you were talking to Captain Glomax about the fox." - -"Has it, dear?" - -"I remember every word of it. I remember how you stood and how you -looked, even to the hat you wore and the little switch you held in -your hand,--when you asked for one little word, one glance, one -slightest touch. There, now;--you shall have all my weight to bear." -Then she leant upon him with both her hands, turned round her arm, -glanced up into his face, and opened her lips as though speaking that -little word. "Do you remember that I said I thought you had given it -all up?" - -"I remember that, certainly." - -"And was not that untrue? Oh, Jonathan, that was such a story. Had I -thought so I should have been miserable." - -"Then why did you swear to me so often that you could not love me?" - -"I never said so," replied Ayala; "never." - -"Did you not?" he asked. - -"I never said so. I never told you such a story as that. I did love -you then, almost as well as I do now. Oh, I had loved you for so long -a time!" - -"Then why did you refuse me?" - -"Ah; that is what I would explain to you now,--here on this very -spot,--if I could. Does it not seem odd that a girl should have all -that she wants offered to her, and yet not be able to take it?" - -"Was it all that you wanted?" - -"Indeed it was. When I was in church that morning I told myself that -I never, never, could be happy unless you came to me again." - -"But when I did come you would not have me." - -"I knew how to love you," she said, "but I did not know how to tell -you that I loved you. I can tell you now; cannot I?" and then she -looked up at him and smiled. "Yes, I think I shall never be tired of -telling you now. It is sweet to hear you say that you love me, but it -is sweeter still to be always telling you. And yet I could not tell -you then. Suppose you had taken me at my word?" - -"I told you that I should never give you up." - -"It was only that that kept me from being altogether wretched. -I think that I was ashamed to tell you the truth when I had once -refused to do as you would have me. I had given you so much trouble -all for nothing. I think that if you had asked me on that first day -at the ball in London I should have said yes, if I had told the -truth." - -"That would have been very sudden. I had never seen you before that." - -"Nevertheless it was so. I don't mind owning it to you now, though -I never, never, would own it to any one else. When you came to us at -the theatre I was sure that no one else could ever have been so good. -I certainly did love you then." - -"Hardly that, Ayala." - -"I did," she said. "Now I have told you everything, and if you choose -to think I have been bad,--why you must think so, and I must put up -with it." - -"Bad, my darling?" - -"I suppose it was bad to fall in love with a man like that; and -very bad to give him the trouble of coming so often. But now I -have made a clean breast of it, and if you want to scold me you -must scold me now. You may do it now, but you must never scold me -afterwards,--because of that." It may be left to the reader to -imagine the nature of the scolding which she received. - -Then on their way home she thanked him for all the good that he -had done to all those belonging to her. "I have heard it all from -Lucy;--how generous you have been to Isadore." - -"That has all come to nothing," he said. - -"How come to nothing? I know that you sent him the money." - -"I did offer to lend him something, and, indeed, I sent him a cheque; -but two days afterwards he returned it. That tremendous uncle of -yours--" - -"Uncle Tom?" - -"Yes, your Uncle Tom; the man of millions! He came forward and cut -me out altogether. I don't know what went on down there in Sussex, -but when he heard that they intended to be married shortly he put -his hand into his pocket, as a magnificent uncle, overflowing with -millions, ought to do." - -"I did not hear that." - -"Hamel sent my money back at once." - -"And poor Tom! You were so good to poor Tom." - -"I like Tom." - -"But he did behave badly." - -"Well; yes. One gentleman shouldn't strike another, even though he be -ever so much in love. It's an uncomfortable proceeding, and never has -good results. But then, poor fellow, he has been so much in earnest." - -"Why couldn't he take a No when he got it?" - -"Why didn't I take a No when I got it?" - -"That was very different. He ought to have taken it. If you had taken -it you would have been very wrong, and have broken a poor girl's -heart. I am sure you knew that all through." - -"Did I?" - -"And then you were too good-natured. That was it. I don't think you -really love me;--not as I love you. Oh, Jonathan, if you were to -change your mind now! Suppose you were to tell me that it was a -mistake! Suppose I were to awake and find myself in bed at Kingsbury -Crescent?" - -"I hope there may be no such waking as that!" - -"I should go mad,--stark mad. Shake me till I find out whether it is -real waking, downright, earnest. But, Jonathan, why did you call me -Miss Dormer when you went away? That was the worst of all. I remember -when you called me Ayala first. It went through and through me like -an electric shock. But you never saw it;--did you?" - -On that afternoon when she returned home she wrote to her sister -Lucy, giving a sister's account to her sister of all her happiness. -"I am sure Isadore is second best, but Jonathan is best. I don't want -you to say so; but if you contradict me I shall stick to it. You -remember my telling you that the old woman in the railway said that -I was perverse. She was a clever old woman, and knew all about it, -for I was perverse. However, it has come all right now, and Jonathan -is best of all. Oh, my man,--my man! Is it not sweet to have a man -of one's own to love?" If this letter had been written on the day -before,--as would have been the case had not Ayala been taken out -hunting,--it would have reached Merle Park on the Wednesday, the news -would have been made known to Aunt Emmeline, and so conveyed to poor -Tom, and that disagreeable journey from Merle Park to Stalham would -have been saved. But there was no time for writing on the Monday. The -letter was sent away in the Stalham post-bag on the Tuesday evening, -and did not reach Merle Park till the Thursday, after Lady Tringle -had left the house. Had it been known on that morning that Ayala was -engaged to Colonel Stubbs that would have sufficed to send Tom away -upon his travels without any more direct messenger from Stalham. - -On the Wednesday there was more hunting, and on this day Ayala, -having liberated her mind to her lover in Gobblegoose Wood, was able -to devote herself more satisfactorily to the amusement in hand. Her -engagement was now an old affair. It had already become matter for -joking to Sir Harry, and had been discussed even with Mrs. Gosling. -It was, of course, "a joy for ever,"--but still she was beginning to -descend from the clouds and to walk the earth,--no more than a simple -queen. When, therefore, the hounds went away and Larry told her that -he knew the best way out of the wood, she collected her energies and -rode "like a little brick," as Sir Harry said when they got back to -Stalham. On that afternoon she received the note from her aunt and -replied to it by telegram. - -On the Thursday she stayed at home and wrote various letters. The -first was to the Marchesa, and then one to Nina,--in both of which -much had to be said about "Jonathan." To Nina also she could repeat -her idea of the delight of having a man to love. Then there was a -letter to Aunt Margaret,--which certainly was due, and another to -Aunt Emmeline,--which was not however received until after Lady -Tringle's visit to Stalham. There was much conversation between her -and Lady Albury as to the possible purpose of the visit which was to -be made on the morrow. Lady Albury was of opinion that Lady Tringle -had heard of the engagement, and was coming with the intention of -setting it on one side on Tom's behalf. "But she can't do that, you -know," said Ayala, with some manifest alarm. "She is nothing to me -now, Lady Albury. She got rid of me, you know. I was changed away for -Lucy." - -"If there had been no changing away, she could do nothing," said Lady -Albury. - -About a quarter of an hour before the time for lunch on the following -day Lady Tringle was shown into the small sitting-room which has been -mentioned in a previous chapter, and Ayala, radiant with happiness -and beauty, appeared before her. There was a look about her of being -at home at Stalham, as though she were almost a daughter of the -house, that struck her aunt with surprise. There was nothing left -of that submissiveness which, though Ayala herself had not been -submissive, belonged, as of right, to girls so dependent as she and -her sister Lucy. "I am so delighted to see you at Stalham," said -Ayala, as she embraced her aunt. - -"I am come to you," said Lady Tringle, "on a matter of very -particular business." Then she paused, and assumed a look of peculiar -solemnity. - -"Have you got my letter?" demanded Ayala. - -"I got your telegram, and I thought it very civil of Lady Albury. But -I cannot stay. Your poor cousin Tom is in such a condition that I -cannot leave him longer than I can help." - -"But you have not got my letter?" - -"I have had no letter from you, Ayala." - -"I have sent you such news,--oh, such news, Aunt Emmeline!" - -"What news, my dear?" Lady Tringle as she asked the question seemed -to become more solemn than ever. - -"Oh, Aunt Emmeline--; I am--" - -"You are what, Ayala?" - -"I am engaged to be married to Colonel Jonathan Stubbs." - -"Engaged!" - -"Yes, Aunt Emmeline;--engaged. I wrote to you on Tuesday to tell you -all about it. I hope you and Uncle Tom will approve. There cannot -possibly be any reason against it,--except only that I have nothing -to give him in return; that is in the way of money. Colonel Stubbs, -Aunt Emmeline, is not what Uncle Tom will call a rich man, but -everybody here says that he has got quite enough to be comfortable. -If he had nothing in the world it could not make any difference to -me. I don't understand how anybody is to love any one or not to love -him just because he is rich or poor." - -"But you are absolutely engaged!" exclaimed Lady Tringle. - -"Oh dear yes. Perhaps you would like to ask Lady Albury about it. He -did want it before, you know." - -"But now you are engaged to him?" In answer to this Ayala thought it -sufficient simply to nod her head. "It is all over then?" - -"All over!" exclaimed Ayala. "It is just going to begin." - -"All over for poor Tom," said Lady Tringle. - -"Oh yes. It was always over for him, Aunt Emmeline. I told him ever -so many times that it never could be so. Don't you know, Aunt -Emmeline, that I did?" - -"But you said that to this man just the same." - -"Aunt Emmeline," said Ayala, putting on all the serious dignity which -she knew how to assume, "I am engaged to Colonel Stubbs, and nothing -on earth that anybody can say can change it. If you want to hear all -about it, Lady Albury will tell you. She knows that you are my aunt, -and therefore she will be quite willing to talk to you. Only nothing -that anybody can say can change it." - -"Poor Tom!" ejaculated the rejected lover's mother. - -"I am very sorry if my cousin is displeased." - -"He is ill,--terribly ill. He will have to go away and travel all -about the world, and I don't know that ever he will come back again. -I am sure this Stubbs will never love you as he has done." - -"Oh, aunt, what is the use of that?" - -"And then Tom will have twice as much. But, however--" Ayala stood -silent, not seeing that any good could be done by addition to her -former assurances. "I will go and tell him, my dear, that's all. Will -you not send him some message, Ayala?" - -"Oh, yes; any message that I can that shall go along with my sincere -attachment to Colonel Stubbs. You must tell him that I am engaged to -Colonel Stubbs. You will tell him, Aunt Emmeline?" - -"Oh, yes; if it must be so." - -"It must," said Ayala. "Then you may give him my love, and tell him -that I am very unhappy that I should have been a trouble to him, and -that I hope he will soon be well, and come back from his travels." -By this time Aunt Emmeline was dissolved in tears. "I could not help -it, Aunt Emmeline, could I?" Her aunt had once terribly outraged her -feelings by telling her that she had encouraged Tom. Ayala remembered -at this moment the cruel words and the wound which they had inflicted -on her; but, nevertheless, she behaved tenderly, and endeavoured to -be respectful and submissive. "I could not help it,--could I, Aunt -Emmeline?" - -"I suppose not, my dear." - -After that Lady Tringle declared that she would return to London at -once. No;--she would rather not go in to lunch. She would rather go -back at once to the station if they would take her. She had been -weeping, and did not wish to show her tears. Therefore, at Ayala's -request, the carriage came round again,--to the great disgust, no -doubt, of the coachman,--and Lady Tringle was taken back to the -station without having seen any of the Albury family. - - - - -CHAPTER LVII. - -CAPTAIN BATSBY IN LOMBARD STREET. - - -It was not till Colonel Stubbs had been three or four days at -Stalham, basking in the sunshine of Ayala's love, that any of the -Stalham family heard of the great event which had occurred in the -life of Ayala's third lover. During that walk to and from Gobblegoose -Wood something had been said between the lovers as to Captain -Batsby,--something, no doubt, chiefly in joke. The idea of the poor -Captain having fallen suddenly into so melancholy a condition was -droll enough. "But he never spoke to me," said Ayala. "He doesn't -speak very much to any one," said the Colonel, "but he thinks a great -deal about things. He has had ever so many affairs with ever so many -ladies, who generally, I fancy, want to marry him because of his -money. How he has escaped so long nobody knows." A man when he has -just engaged himself to be married is as prone as ever to talk of -other men "escaping," feeling that, though other young ladies were no -better than evils to be avoided, his young lady is to be regarded as -almost a solitary instance of a blessing. Then, two days afterwards, -arrived the news of the trip to Ostend. Sir Harry received a letter -from a friend in which an account was given of his half-brother's -adventure. "What do you think has happened?" said Sir Harry, jumping -up from his chair at the breakfast table. - -"What has happened?" asked his wife. - -"Benjamin has run off to Ostend with a young lady." - -"Benjamin,--with a young lady!" exclaimed Lady Albury. Ayala and -Stubbs were equally astonished, each of them knowing that the -Captain had been excluded from Stalham because of the ardour of his -unfortunate love for Ayala. "Ayala, that is your doing!" - -"No!" said Ayala. "But I am very glad if he's happy." - -"Who is the young lady?" asked Stubbs. - -"It is that which makes it so very peculiar," said Sir Harry, looking -at Ayala. He had learned something of the Tringle family, and was -aware of Ayala's connection with them. - -"Who is it, Harry?" demanded her ladyship. - -"Sir Thomas Tringle's younger daughter." - -"Gertrude!" exclaimed Ayala, who also knew of the engagement with Mr. -Houston. - -"But the worst of it is," continued Sir Harry, "that he is not at -all happy. The young lady has come back, while nobody knows what has -become of Benjamin." - -"Benjamin never will get a wife," said Lady Albury. Thus all the -details of the little event became known at Stalham,--except the -immediate condition and whereabouts of the lover. - -Of the Captain's condition and whereabouts something must be told. -When the great disruption came, and he had been abused and ridiculed -by Sir Thomas at Ostend, he felt that he could neither remain there -where the very waiters knew what had happened, nor could he return -to Dover in the same vessel with Sir Thomas and his daughter. He -therefore took the first train and went to Brussels. - -But Brussels did not offer him many allurements in his present frame -of mind. He found nobody there whom he particularly knew, and nothing -particular to do. Solitude in a continental town with no amusements -beyond those offered by the table d'hote and the theatre is -oppressing. His time he endeavoured to occupy with thinking of the -last promise he had made to Gertrude. Should he break it or should -he keep it? Sir Thomas Tringle was, no doubt, a very rich man,--and -then there was the fact which would become known to all the world, -that he had run off with a young lady. Should he ultimately succeed -in marrying the young lady the enterprise would bear less of an -appearance of failure than it would do otherwise. But then, should -the money not be forthcoming, the consolation coming from the -possession of Gertrude herself would hardly suffice to make him a -happy man. Sir Thomas, when he came to consider the matter, would -certainly feel that his daughter had compromised herself by her -journey, and that it would be good for her to be married to the man -who had taken her. It might be that Sir Thomas would yield, and -consent to make, at any rate, some compromise. A rumour had reached -his ears that Traffick had received L200,000 with the elder daughter. -He would consent to take half that sum. After a week spent amidst -the charms of Brussels he returned to London, without any public -declaration of his doing so,--"sneaked back," as a friend of his said -of him at the club;--and then went to work to carry out his purpose -as best he might. All that was known of it at Stalham was that he had -returned to his lodgings in London. - -On Friday, the 11th of April, when Ayala was a promised bride of -nearly two weeks' standing, and all the uncles and aunts were aware -that her lot in life had been fixed for her, Sir Thomas was alone in -the back-room in Lombard Street, with his mind sorely diverted from -the only joy of his life. The whole family were now in town, and -Septimus Traffick with his wife was actually occupying a room in -Queen's Gate. How it had come to pass Sir Thomas hardly knew. Some -word had been extracted from him signifying a compliance with a -request that Augusta might come to the house for a night or two until -a fitting residence should be prepared for her. Something had been -said of Lord Boardotrade's house being vacated for her and her -husband early in April. An occurrence to which married ladies are -liable was about to take place with Augusta, and Sir Thomas certainly -understood that the occurrence was to be expected under the roof of -the coming infant's noble grandfather. Something as to ancestral -halls had been thrown out in the chance way of conversation. Then he -certainly had assented to some minimum of London hospitality for his -daughter,--as certainly not including the presence of his son-in-law; -and now both of them were domiciled in the big front spare bed-room -at Queen's Gate! This perplexed him sorely. And then Tom had been -brought up from the country still as an invalid, his mother moaning -and groaning over him as though he were sick almost past hope of -recovery. And yet the nineteenth of the month, now only eight days -distant, was still fixed for his departure. Tom, on the return of his -mother from Stalham, had to a certain extent accepted as irrevocable -the fact of which she bore the tidings. Ayala was engaged to Stubbs, -and would, doubtless, with very little delay, become Mrs. Jonathan -Stubbs. "I knew it," he said; "I knew it. Nothing could have -prevented it unless I had shot him through the heart. He told me that -she had refused him; but no man could have looked like that after -being refused by Ayala." Then he never expressed a hope again. It -was all over for him as regarded Ayala. But still he refused to be -well, or even, for a day or two, to leave his bed. He had allowed -his mother to understand that if the fact of her engagement were -indubitably brought home to him he would gird up his loins for his -journey and proceed at once wherever it might be thought good to send -him. His father had sternly reminded him of his promise; but, when -so reminded, Tom had turned himself in his bed and uttered groans -instead of replies. Now he had been brought up to London and was -no longer actually in bed; but even yet he had not signified his -intention of girding up his loins and proceeding upon his journey. -Nevertheless the preparations were going on, and, under Sir Thomas's -directions, the portmanteaus were already being packed. Gertrude also -was a source of discomfort to her father. She considered herself -to have been deprived of her two lovers, one after the other, in a -spirit of cruel parsimony. And with this heavy weight upon her breast -she refused to take any part in the family conversations. Everything -had been done for Augusta, and everything was to be done for Tom. For -her nothing had been done, and nothing had been promised;--and she -was therefore very sulky. With these troubles all around him, Sir -Thomas was sitting oppressed and disheartened in Lombard Street on -Friday, the 11th of April. - -Then there entered to him one of the junior clerks with a card -announcing the name of Captain Batsby. He looked at it for some -seconds before he gave any notification of his intention, and then -desired the young man to tell the gentleman that he would not see -him. The message had been delivered, and Captain Batsby with a frown -of anger on his brow was about to shake the dust off from his feet on -the uncourteous threshold when there came another message saying that -Captain Batsby could go in and see Sir Thomas if he wished it. Upon -this he turned round and was shown into the little sitting-room. -"Well, Captain Batsby," said Sir Thomas; "what can I do for you now? -I am glad to see that you have come back safely from foreign parts." - -"I have called," said the Captain, "to say something about your -daughter." - -"What more can you have to say about her?" - -At this the Captain was considerably puzzled. Of course Sir Thomas -must know what he had to say. "The way in which we were separated at -Ostend was very distressing to my feelings." - -"I daresay." - -"And also I should think to Miss Tringle's." - -"Not improbably. I have always observed that when people are -interrupted in the performance of some egregious stupidity their -feelings are hurt. As I said before, what can I do for you now?" - -"I am very anxious to complete the alliance which I have done myself -the honour to propose to you." - -"I did not know that you had proposed anything. You came down to my -house under a false pretence; and then you persuaded my daughter,--or -else she persuaded you,--to go off together to Ostend. Is that what -you call an alliance?" - -"That, as far as it went was,--was an elopement." - -"Am I to understand that you now want to arrange another elopement, -and that you have come to ask my consent?" - -"Oh dear no." - -"Then what do you mean by completing an alliance?" - -"I want to make," said the Captain, "an offer for the young lady's -hand in a proper form. I consider myself to be in a position which -justifies me in doing so. I am possessed of the young lady's -affections, and have means of my own equal to those which I presume -you will be disposed to give her." - -"Very much better means I hope, Captain Batsby. Otherwise I do not -see what you and your wife would have to live upon. I will tell you -exactly what my feelings are in this matter. My daughter has gone -off with you, forgetting all the duty that she owed to me and to her -mother, and throwing aside all ideas of propriety. After that I will -not say that you shall not marry her if both of you think fit. I do -not doubt your means, and I have no reason for supposing that you -would be cruel to her. You are two fools, but after all fools must -live in the world. What I do say is, that I will not give a sixpence -towards supporting you in your folly. Now, Captain Batsby, you can -complete the alliance or not as you please." - -Captain Batsby had been called a fool also at Ostend, and there, -amidst the distressing circumstances of his position, had been -constrained to bear the opprobious name, little customary as it is -for one gentleman to allow himself to be called a fool by another; -but now he had collected his thoughts, had reminded himself of his -position in the world, and had told himself that it did not become -him to be too humble before this City man of business. It might have -been all very well at Ostend; but he was not going to be called a -fool in London without resenting it. "Sir Thomas," said he, "fool and -folly are terms which I cannot allow you to use to me." - -"If you do not present yourself to me here, Captain Batsby, or at my -own house,--or, perhaps I may say, at Ostend,--I will use no such -terms to you." - -"I suppose you will acknowledge that I am entitled to ask for your -daughter's hand." - -"I suppose you will acknowledge that when a man runs away with my -daughter I am entitled to express my opinion of his conduct." - -"That is all over now, Sir Thomas. What I did I did for love. There -is no good in crying over spilt milk. The question is as to the -future happiness of the young lady." - -"That is the only wise word I have heard you say, Captain Batsby. -There is no good in crying after spilt milk. Our journey to Ostend is -done and gone. It was not very agreeable, but we have lived through -it. I quite think that you show a good judgment in not intending to -go there again in quest of a clergyman. If you want to be married -there are plenty of them in London. I will not oppose your marriage, -but I will not give you a shilling. No man ever had a better -opportunity of showing the disinterestedness of his affection. Now, -good morning." - -"But, Sir Thomas--" - -"Captain Batsby, my time is precious. I have told you all that there -is to tell." Then he stood up, and the Captain with a stern demeanour -and angry brow left the room and took himself in silence away from -Lombard Street. - -"Do you want to marry Captain Batsby?" Sir Thomas said to his -daughter that evening, having invited her to come apart with him -after dinner. - -"Yes, I do." - -"You think that you prefer him on the whole to Mr. Houston?" - -"Mr. Houston is a scoundrel. I wish that you would not talk about -him, papa." - -"I like him so much the best of the two," said Sir Thomas. "But of -course it is for you to judge. I could have brought myself to give -something to Houston. Luckily, however, Captain Batsby has got an -income of his own." - -"He has, papa." - -"And you are sure that you would like to take him as your husband?" - -"Yes, papa." - -"Very well. He has been with me to-day." - -"Is he in London?" - -"I tell you that he has been with me to-day in Lombard Street." - -"What did he say? Did he say anything about me?" - -"Yes, my dear. He came to ask me for your hand." - -"Well, papa." - -"I told him that I should make no objection,--that I should leave -it altogether to you. I only interfered with one small detail as to -my own wishes. I assured him that I should never give him or you -a single shilling. I don't suppose it will matter much to him, as -he has, you know, means of his own." It was thus that Sir Thomas -punished his daughter for her misconduct. - -Captain Batsby and the Trafficks were acquainted with each other. The -Member of Parliament had, of course, heard of the journey to Ostend -from his wife, and had been instigated by her to express an opinion -that the young people ought to be married. "It is such a very serious -thing," said Augusta to her husband, "to be four hours on the sea -together! And then you know--!" Mr. Traffick acknowledged that it was -serious, and was reminded by his wife that he, in the capacity of -brother, was bound to interfere on his sister's behalf. "Papa, you -know, understands nothing about these kind of things. You, with your -family interest, and your seat in Parliament, ought to be able to -arrange it." Mr. Traffick probably knew how far his family interest -and his seat in Parliament would avail. They had, at any rate, got -him a wife with a large fortune. They were promising for him, still -further, certain domiciliary advantages. He doubted whether he could -do much for Batsby; but still he promised to try. If he could arrange -these matters it might be that he would curry fresh favour with Sir -Thomas by doing so. He therefore made it his business to encounter -Captain Batsby on the Sunday afternoon at a club to which they both -belonged. "So you have come back from your little trip?" said the -Member of Parliament. - -The Captain was not unwilling to discuss the question of their family -relations with Mr. Traffick. If anybody would have influence with Sir -Thomas it might probably be Mr. Traffick. "Yes; I have come back." - -"Without your bride." - -"Without my bride,--as yet. That is a kind of undertaking in which a -man is apt to run many dangers before he can carry it through." - -"I dare say. I never did anything of the kind myself. Of course you -know that I am the young lady's brother-in-law." - -"Oh yes." - -"And therefore you won't mind me speaking. Don't you think you ought -to do something further?" - -"Something further! By George, I should think so," said the Captain, -exultingly. "I mean to do a great many things further. You don't -suppose I am going to give it up?" - -"You oughtn't, you know. When a man has taken a girl off with him in -that way, he should go on with it. It's a deuced serious thing, you -know." - -"It was his fault in coming after us." - -"That was a matter of course. If he hadn't done it, I must. I have -made the family my own, and, of course, must look after its honour." -The noble scion of the house of Traffick, as he said this, showed by -his countenance that he perfectly understood the duty which -circumstances had imposed upon him. - -"He made himself very rough, you know," said the Captain. - -"I dare say he would." - -"And said things,--well,--things which he ought not to have said." - -"In such a case as that a father may say pretty nearly what comes -uppermost." - -"That was just it. He did say what came uppermost,--and very rough it -was." - -"What does it matter?" - -"Not much if he'd do as he ought to do now. As you are her -brother-in-law, I'll tell you just how it stands. I have been to him -and made a regular proposal." - -"Since you have been back?" - -"Yes; the day before yesterday. And what do you think he says?" - -"What does he say?" - -"He gives his consent; only--" - -"Only what?" - -"He won't give her a shilling! Such an idea, you know! As though she -were to be punished after marriage for running away with the man she -did marry." - -"Take your chance, Batsby," said the Member of Parliament. - -"What chance?" - -"Take your chance of the money. I'd have done it; only, of course, -it was different with me. He was glad to catch me, and therefore the -money was settled." - -"I've got a tidy income of my own, you know," said the Captain, -thinking that he was entitled to be made more welcome as a son-in-law -than the younger son of a peer who had no income. - -"Take your chance," continued Traffick. "What on earth can a man -like Tringle do with his money except give it to his children? He is -rough, as you say, but he is not hard-hearted, nor yet stubborn. I -can do pretty nearly what I like with him." - -"Can you, though?" - -"Yes; by smoothing him down the right way. You run your chance, and -we'll get it all put right for you." The Captain hesitated, rubbing -his head carefully to encourage the thoughts which were springing up -within his bosom. The Honourable Mr. Traffick might perhaps succeed -in getting the affair put right, as he called it, in the interest -rather of the elder than of the second daughter. "I don't see how -you can hesitate now, as you have been off with the girl," said Mr. -Traffick. - -"I don't know about that. I should like to see the money settled." - -"There would have been nothing settled if you had married her at -Ostend." - -"But I didn't," said the Captain. "I tell you what you might do. You -might talk him over and make him a little more reasonable. I should -be ready to-morrow if he'd come forward." - -"What's the sum you want?" - -"The same as yours, I suppose." - -"That's out of the question," said Mr. Traffick, shaking his head. -"Suppose we say sixty thousand pounds." Then after some chaffering on -the subject it was decided between them that Mr. Traffick should use -his powerful influence with his father-in-law to give his daughter on -her marriage,--say a hundred thousand pounds if it were possible, or -sixty thousand pounds at the least. - - - - -CHAPTER LVIII. - -MR. TRAFFICK IN LOMBARD STREET. - - -Mr. Traffick entertained some grand ideas as to the house of Travers -and Treason. Why should not he become a member, and ultimately the -leading member, of that firm? Sir Thomas was not a young man, though -he was strong and hearty. Tom had hitherto succeeded only in making -an ass of himself. As far as transacting the affairs of the firm, -Tom,--so thought Mr. Traffick,--was altogether out of the question. -He might perish in those extensive travels which he was about to -take. Mr. Traffick did not desire any such catastrophe;--but the -young man might perish. There was a great opening. Mr. Traffick, with -his thorough knowledge of business, could not but see that there was -a great opening. Besides Tom, there were but two daughters, one of -whom was his own wife. Augusta, his wife, was, he thought, certainly -the favourite at the present moment. Sir Thomas could, indeed, say -rough things even to her; but then Sir Thomas was of his nature -rough. Now, at this time, the rough things said to Gertrude were -very much the rougher. In all these circumstances the wisdom of -interfering in Gertrude's little affairs was very clear to Mr. -Traffick. Gertrude would, of course, get herself married sooner or -later, and almost any other husband would obtain a larger portion -than that which would satisfy Batsby. Sir Thomas was now constantly -saying good things about Mr. Houston. Mr. Houston would be much more -objectionable than Captain Batsby,--much more likely to interfere. -He would require more money at once, and might possibly come forward -himself in the guise of a partner. Mr. Traffick saw his way clearly. -It was incumbent upon him to see that Gertrude should become Mrs. -Batsby with as little delay as possible. - -But one thing he did not see. One thing he had failed to see since -his first introduction to the Tringle family. He had not seen the -peculiar nature of his father-in-law's foibles. He did not understand -either the weakness or the strength of Sir Thomas,--either the -softness or the hardness. Mr. Traffick himself was blessed with a -very hard skin. In the carrying out of a purpose there was nothing -which his skin was not sufficiently serviceable to endure. But Sir -Thomas, rough as he was, had but a thin skin;--a thin skin and a -soft heart. Had Houston and Gertrude persevered he would certainly -have given way. For Tom, in his misfortune, he would have made any -sacrifice. Though he had given the broadest hints which he had been -able to devise he had never as yet brought himself absolutely to turn -Traffick out of his house. When Ayala was sent away he still kept her -name in his will, and added also that of Lucy as soon as Lucy had -been entrusted to him. Had things gone a little more smoothly between -him and Hamel when they met,--had he not unluckily advised that all -the sculptor's grand designs should be sold by auction for what they -would fetch,--he would have put Hamel and Lucy upon their legs. He -was a soft-hearted man;--but there never was one less willing to -endure interference in his own affairs. - -At the present moment he was very sore as to the presence of Traffick -in Queen's Gate. The Easter parliamentary holidays were just at -hand, and there was no sign of any going. Augusta had whispered -to her mother that the poky little house in Mayfair would be very -uncomfortable for the coming event,--and Lady Tringle, though she had -not dared to say even as much as that in plain terms to her husband, -had endeavoured to introduce the subject by little hints,--which -Sir Thomas had clearly understood. He was hardly the man to turn a -daughter and an expected grandchild into the streets; but he was, -in his present mood, a father-in-law who would not unwillingly -have learned that his son-in-law was without a shelter except that -afforded by the House of Commons. Why on earth should he have given -up one hundred and twenty thousand pounds,--L6,000 a-year as it was -under his fostering care,--to a man who could not even keep a house -over his wife's head? This was the humour of Sir Thomas when Mr. -Traffick undertook to prevail with him to give an adequate fortune to -his youngest daughter on her marriage with Captain Batsby. - -The conversation between Traffick and Batsby took place on a Sunday. -On the following day the Captain went down to the House and saw the -Member. "No; I have not spoken to him yet." - -"I was with him on Friday, you know," said Batsby. "I can't well -go and call on the ladies in Queen's Gate till I hear that he has -changed his mind." - -"I should. I don't see what difference it would make." - -Then Captain Batsby was again very thoughtful. "It would make a -difference, you know. If I were to say a word to Gertrude now,--as to -being married or anything of that kind,--it would seem that I meant -to go on whether I got anything or not." - -"And you should seem to want to go on," said Traffick, with all that -authority which the very surroundings of the House of Commons always -give to the words and gait of a Member. - -"But then I might find myself dropped in a hole at last." - -"My dear Batsby, you made that hole for yourself when you ran off -with the young lady." - -"We settled all that before." - -"Not quite. What we did settle was that we'd do our best to fill the -hole up. Of course you ought to go and see them. You went off with -the young lady,--and since that have been accepted as her suitor by -her father. You are bound to go and see her." - -"Do you think so?" - -"Certainly! Certainly! It never does to talk to Tringle about -business at his own house. I'll make an hour to see him in the City -to-morrow. I'm so pressed by business that I can hardly get away from -the House after twelve;--but, I'll do it. But, while I'm in Lombard -Street, do you go to Queen's Gate." The Captain after further -consideration said that he would go to Queen's Gate. - -At three o'clock on the next day he did go to Queen's Gate. He had -many misgivings, feeling that by such a step he would be committing -himself to matrimony with or without the money. No doubt he could so -offer himself, even to Lady Tringle, as a son-in-law, that it should -be supposed that the offer would depend upon the father-in-law's -goodwill. But then the father-in-law had told him that he would be -welcome to the young lady,--without a farthing. Should he go on -with his matrimonial purpose, towards which this visit would be an -important step, he did not see the moment in which he could stop the -proceedings by a demand for money. Nevertheless he went, not being -strong enough to oppose Mr. Traffick. - -Yes;--the ladies were at home, and he found himself at once in Lady -Tringle's presence. There was at the time no one with her, and the -Captain acknowledged to himself that a trying moment had come to him. -"Dear me! Captain Batsby!" said her ladyship, who had not seen him -since he and Gertrude had gone off together. - -"Yes, Lady Tringle. As I have come back from abroad I thought that I -might as well come and call. I did see Sir Thomas in the City." - -"Was not that a very foolish thing you did?" - -"Perhaps it was, Lady Tringle. Perhaps it would have been better to -ask permission to address your daughter in the regular course of -things. There was, perhaps,--perhaps a little romance in going off in -that way." - -"It gave Sir Thomas a deal of trouble." - -"Well, yes; he was so quick upon us you know. May I be allowed to see -Gertrude now?" - -"Upon my word I hardly know," said Lady Tringle, hesitating. - -"I did see Sir Thomas in the City." - -"But did he say you were to come and call?" - -"He gave his consent to the marriage." - -"But I am afraid there was to be no money," whispered Lady Tringle. -"If money is no matter I suppose you may see her." But before -the Captain had resolved how he might best answer this difficult -suggestion the door opened, and the young lady herself entered the -room, together with her sister. - -"Benjamin," said Gertrude, "is this really you?" And then she flew -into his arms. - -"My dear," said Augusta, "do control your emotions." - -"Yes, indeed, Gertrude," said the mother. "As the things are at -present you should control yourself. Nobody as yet knows what may -come of it." - -"Oh, Benjamin!" again exclaimed Gertrude, tearing herself from his -arms, throwing herself on the sofa, and covering her face with both -her hands. "Oh, Benjamin,--so you have come at last." - -"I am afraid he has come too soon," said Augusta, who however had -received her lesson from her husband, and had communicated some -portion of her husband's tidings to her sister. - -"Why too soon?" exclaimed Gertrude. "It can never be too soon. Oh, -mamma, tell him that you make him welcome to your bosom as your -second son-in-law." - -"Upon my word, my dear, I do not know, without consulting your -father." - -"But papa has consented," said Gertrude. - -"But only if--" - -"Oh, mamma," said Mrs. Traffick, "do not talk about matters of -business on such an occasion as this. All that must be managed -between the gentlemen. If he is here as Gertrude's acknowledged -lover, and if papa has told him that he shall be accepted as such, I -don't think that we ought to say a word about money. I do hate money. -It does make things so disagreeable." - -"Nobody can be more noble in everything of that kind than Benjamin," -said Gertrude. "It is only because he loves me with all his heart -that he is here. Why else was it that he took me off to Ostend?" - -Captain Batsby as he listened to all this felt that he ought to say -something. And yet how dangerous might a word be! It was apparent to -him, even in his perturbation, that the ladies were in fact asking -him to renew his offer, and to declare that he renewed it altogether -independently of any money consideration. He could not bring himself -quite to agree with that noble sentiment in expressing which Mrs. -Traffick had declared her hatred of money. In becoming the son-in-law -of a millionaire he would receive the honest congratulations of all -his friends,--on condition that he received some comfortable fraction -out of the millions, but he knew well that he would subject himself -to their ridicule were he to take the girl and lose the plunder. If -he were to answer them now as they would have him answer he would -commit himself to the girl without any bargain as to the plunder. -And yet what else was there for him to do? He must be a brave man -who can stand up before a girl and declare that he will love her for -ever,--on condition that she shall have so many thousand pounds; but -he must be more than brave, he will be heroic, who can do so in the -presence not only of the girl but of the girl's mother and married -sister as well. Captain Batsby was no such hero. "Of course," he said -at last. - -"Of course what?" asked Augusta. - -"It was because I loved her." - -"I knew that he loved me," sobbed Gertrude. - -"And you are here, because you intend to make her your wife in -presence of all men?" asked Augusta. - -"Oh certainly." - -"Then I suppose that it will be all right," said Lady Tringle. - -"It will be all right," said Augusta. "And now, mamma, I think that -we may leave them alone together." But to this Lady Tringle would -not give her assent. She had not had confided to her the depth of Mr. -Traffick's wisdom, and declared herself opposed to any absolute overt -love-making until Sir Thomas should have given his positive consent. - -"It is all the same thing, Benjamin, is it not?" said Augusta, -assuming already the familiarity of a sister in-law. - -"Oh quite," said the Captain. - -But Gertrude looked as though she did not think it to be exactly -the same. Such deficiency as that, however, she had to endure; and -she received from her sister after the Captain's departure full -congratulations as to her lover's return. "To tell you the truth," -said Augusta, "I didn't think that you would ever see him again. -After what papa said to him in the City he might have got off and -nobody could have said a word to him. Now he's fixed." - -Captain Batsby effected his escape as quickly as he could, and went -home a melancholy man. He, too, was aware that he was fixed; and, as -he thought of this, a dreadful idea fell upon him that the Honourable -Mr. Traffick had perhaps played him false. - -In the meantime Mr. Traffick was true to his word and went into the -City. In the early days of his married life his journeys to Lombard -Street were frequent. The management and investing of his wife's -money had been to him a matter of much interest, and he had felt a -gratification in discussing any money matter with the man who handled -millions. In this way he had become intimate with the ways of the -house, though latterly his presence there had not been encouraged. -"I suppose I can go in to Sir Thomas," he said, laying his hand upon -a leaf in the counter, which he had been accustomed to raise for the -purpose of his own entrance. But here he was stopped. His name should -be taken in and Sir Thomas duly apprised. In the meantime he was -relegated to a dingy little waiting-room, which was odious to him, -and there he was kept waiting for half-an-hour. This made him angry, -and he called to one of the clerks. "Will you tell Sir Thomas that -I must be down at the House almost immediately, and that I am -particularly anxious to see him on business of importance?" For -another ten minutes he was still kept, and then he was shown into -his father-in law's presence. "I am very sorry, Traffick," said Sir -Thomas, "but I really can't turn two Directors of the Bank of England -out of my room, even for you." - -"I only thought I would just let you know that I am in a hurry." - -"So am I, for the matter of that. Have you gone to your father's -house to-day, so that you would not be able to see me in Queen's -Gate?" - -This was intended to be very severe, but Mr. Traffick bore it. It -was one of those rough things which Sir Thomas was in the habit of -saying, but which really meant nothing. "No. My father is still at -his house as yet, though they are thinking of going every day. It is -about another matter, and I did not want to trouble you with it at -home." - -"Let us hear what it is." - -"Captain Batsby has been with me." - -"Oh, he has, has he?" - -"I've known him ever so long. He's a foolish fellow." - -"So he seems." - -"But a gentleman." - -"Perhaps I am not so good a judge of that. His folly I did perceive." - -"Oh yes; he's a gentleman. You may take my word for that. And he has -means." - -"That's an advantage." - -"While that fellow Houston is hardly more than a beggar. And Batsby -is quite in earnest about Gertrude." - -"If the two of them wish it he can have her to-morrow. She has made -herself a conspicuous ass by running away with him, and perhaps it's -the best thing she can do." - -"That's just it. Augusta sees it quite in the same light." - -"Augusta was never tempted. You wouldn't have run away." - -"It wasn't necessary, Sir Thomas, was it? There he is,--ready to -marry her to-morrow. But, of course, he is a little anxious about the -money." - -"I dare say he is." - -"I've been talking to him,--and the upshot is, that I have promised -to speak to you. He isn't at all a bad fellow." - -"He'd keep a house over his wife's head, you think?" Sir Thomas had -been particularly irate that morning, and before the arrival of his -son-in-law had sworn to himself that Traffick should go. Augusta -might remain, if she pleased, for the occurrence; but the Honourable -Septimus should no longer eat and drink as an inhabitant of his -house. - -"He'd do his duty by her as a man should do," said Traffick, -determined to ignore the disagreeable subject. - -"Very well. There she is." - -"But of course he would like to hear something about money." - -"Would he?" - -"That's only natural." - -"You found it so,--did you not? What's the good of giving a girl -money when her husband won't spend it. Perhaps this Captain Batsby -would expect to live at Queen's Gate or Merle Park." - -It was impossible to go on enduring this without notice. Mr. -Traffick, however, only frowned and shook his head. It was clear -at last that Sir Thomas intended to be more than rough, and it was -almost imperative upon Mr. Traffick to be rough in return. "I am -endeavouring to do my duty by the family," he said. - -"Oh indeed." - -"Gertrude has eloped with this man, and the thing is talked about -everywhere. Augusta feels it very much." - -"She does, does she?" - -"And I have thought it right to ask his intentions." - -"He didn't knock you down, or anything of that sort?" - -"Knock me down?" - -"For interfering. But he hasn't pluck for that. Houston would have -done it immediately. And I should have said he was right. But if you -have got anything to say, you had better say it. When you have done, -then I shall have something to say." - -"I've told him that he couldn't expect as much as you would have -given her but for this running away." - -"You told him that?" - -"Yes; I told him that. Then some sum had to be mentioned. He -suggested a hundred thousand pounds." - -"How very modest. Why should he have put up with less than you, -seeing that he has got something of his own?" - -"He hasn't my position, Sir. You know that well enough. Now to make a -long and short of it, I suggested sixty." - -"Out of your own pocket?" - -"Not exactly." - -"But out of mine?" - -"You're her father, and I suppose you intend to provide for her." - -"And you have come here to dictate to me the provision which I am to -make for my own child! That is an amount of impudence which I did not -expect even from you. But suppose that I agree to the terms. Will he, -do you think, consent to have a clause put into the settlement?" - -"What clause?" - -"Something that shall bind him to keep a house for his own wife's -use, so that he should not take my money and then come and live upon -me afterwards." - -"Sir Thomas," said the Member of Parliament, "that is a mode of -expression so uncourteous that I cannot bear it even from you." - -"Is there any mode of expression that you cannot bear?" - -"If you want me to leave your house, say it at once." - -"Why I have been saying it for the last six months! I have been -saying it almost daily since you were married." - -"If so you should have spoken more clearly, for I have not understood -you." - -"Heavens and earth," ejaculated Sir Thomas. - -"Am I to understand that you wish your child to leave your roof -during this inclement weather in her present delicate condition?" - -"Are you in a delicate condition?" asked Sir Thomas. To this Mr. -Traffick could condescend to make no reply. "Because, if not, you, at -any rate, had better go,--unless you find the weather too inclement." - -"Of course I shall go," said Mr. Traffick. "No consideration on earth -shall induce me to eat another meal under your roof until you shall -have thought good to have expressed regret for what you have said." - -"Then it is very long before I shall have to give you another meal." - -"And now what shall I say to Captain Batsby?" - -"Tell him from me," said Sir Thomas, "that he cannot possibly set -about his work more injudiciously than by making you his ambassador." -Then Mr. Traffick took his departure. - -It may be as well to state here that Mr. Traffick kept his threat -religiously,--at any rate, to the end of the Session. He did not eat -another meal during that period under his father-in-law's roof. But -he slept there for the next two or three days until he had suited -himself with lodgings in the neighbourhood of the House. In doing -this, however, he contrived to get in and out without encountering -Sir Thomas. His wife in her delicate condition,--and because of the -inclemency of the weather,--awaited the occurrence at Queen's Gate. - - - - -CHAPTER LIX. - -TREGOTHNAN. - - -The writer, in giving a correct chronicle of the doings of the -Tringle family at this time, has to acknowledge that Gertrude, during -the prolonged absence of Captain Batsby at Brussels,--an absence -that was cruelly prolonged for more than a week,--did make another -little effort in another direction. Her father, in his rough way, had -expressed an opinion that she had changed very much for the worse in -transferring her affections from Mr. Houston to Captain Batsby, and -had almost gone so far as to declare that had she been persistent -with her Houston the money difficulty might have been overcome. This -was imprudent,--unless, indeed, he was desirous of bringing back Mr. -Houston into the bosom of the Tringles. It instigated Gertrude to -another attempt,--which, however, she did not make till Captain -Batsby had been away from her for at least four days without writing -a letter. Then it occurred to her that if she had a preference it -certainly was for Frank Houston. No doubt the general desirability of -marriage was her chief actuating motive. Will the world of British -young ladies be much scandalised if I say that such is often an -actuating motive? They would be justly scandalised if I pretended -that many of its members were capable of the speedy transitions which -Miss Tringle was strong enough to endure; but transitions do take -place, and I claim, on behalf of my young lady, that she should be -regarded as more strong-minded and more determined than the general -crowd of young ladies. She had thought herself to be off with the old -love before she was on with the new. Then the "new" had gone away to -Brussels,--or heaven only knows where,--and there seemed to be an -opportunity of renewing matters with the "old." Having perceived the -desirability of matrimony, she simply carried out her purpose with -a determined will. It was with a determined will, but perhaps with -deficient judgment, that she had written as follows: - -"Papa has altered his mind altogether. He speaks of you in the -highest terms, and says that had you persevered he would have yielded -about the money. Do try him again. When hearts have been united it is -terrible that they should be dragged asunder." Mr. Traffick had been -quite right in telling his father-in-law that "the thing had been -talked about everywhere." The thing talked about had been Gertrude's -elopement. The daughter of a baronet and a millionaire cannot go off -with the half-brother of another baronet and escape that penalty. The -journey to Ostend was in everybody's mouth, and had surprised Frank -Houston the more because of the recent termination of his own little -affair with the lady. That he should already have re-accommodated -himself with Imogene was intelligible to him, and seemed to admit of -valid excuse before any jury of matrons. It was an old affair, and -the love,--real, true love,--was already existing. He, at any rate, -was going back to the better course,--as the jury of matrons would -have admitted. But Gertrude's new affair had had to be arranged -from the beginning, and shocked him by its celerity. "Already!" -he had said to himself,--"gone off with another man already?" -He felt himself to have been wounded in a tender part, and was -conscious of a feeling that he should like to injure the successful -lover,--blackball him at a club, or do him some other mortal -mischief. When, therefore, he received from the young lady the little -billet above given, he was much surprised. Could it be a hoax? It was -certainly the young lady's handwriting. Was he to be enticed once -again into Lombard Street, in order that the clerks might set upon -him in a body and maltreat him? Was he to be decoyed into Queen's -Gate, and made a sacrifice of by the united force of the housemaids? -Not understanding the celerity of the young lady, he could hardly -believe the billet. - -When he received the note of which we have here spoken two months -had elapsed since he had seen Imogene and had declared to her his -intention of facing the difficulties of matrimony in conjunction with -herself as soon as she would be ready to undergo the ceremony with -him. The reader will remember that her brother, Mudbury Docimer, had -written to him with great severity, abusing both him and Imogene for -the folly of their intention. And Houston, as he thought of their -intention, thought to himself that perhaps they were foolish. The -poverty, and the cradles, and the cabbages, were in themselves evils. -But still he encouraged himself to think that there might be an evil -worse even than folly. After that scene with Imogene, in which she -had offered to sacrifice herself altogether, and to be bound to -him, even though they should never be married, on condition that he -should take to himself no other wife, he had quite resolved that it -behoved him not to be exceeded by her in generosity. He had stoutly -repudiated her offer, which he had called a damnable compact. And -then there had been a delightful scene between them, in which it had -been agreed that they should face the cradles and the cabbages with -bold faces. Since that he had never allowed himself to fluctuate in -his purpose. Had Sir Thomas come to him with Gertrude in one hand and -the much-desired L120,000 in the other, he would have repudiated the -lot of them. He declared to himself with stern resolution that he -had altogether washed his hands from dirt of that kind. Cabbages -and cradles for ever was the unpronounced cry of triumph with which -he buoyed up his courage. He set himself to work earnestly, if not -altogether steadfastly, to alter the whole tenor of his life. The -champagne and the woodcocks,--or whatever might be the special -delicacies of the season,--he did avoid. For some few days he -absolutely dined upon a cut of mutton at an eating-house, and as he -came forth from the unsavoury doors of the establishment regarded -himself as a hero. Cabbages and cradles for ever! he would say to -himself, as he went away to drink a cup of tea with an old maiden -aunt, who was no less surprised than gratified by his new virtue. -Therefore, when it had at last absolutely come home to him that -the last little note had in truth been written by Gertrude with no -object of revenge, but with the intention of once more alluring -him into the wealth of Lombard Street, he simply put it into his -breastcoat-pocket, and left it there unanswered. - -Mudbury Docimer did not satisfy himself with writing the very -uncourteous letter which the reader has seen, but proceeded to do his -utmost to prevent the threatened marriage. "She is old enough to look -after herself," he had said, as though all her future actions must be -governed by her own will. But within ten days of the writing of that -letter he had found it expedient to go down into the country, and -to take his sister with him. As the head of the Docimer family he -possessed a small country-house almost in the extremity of Cornwall; -and thither he went. It was a fraternal effort made altogether on his -sister's behalf, and was so far successful that Imogene was obliged -to accompany him. It was all very well for her to feel that as -she was of age she could do as she pleased. But a young lady is -constrained by the exigencies of society to live with somebody. She -cannot take a lodging by herself, as her brother may do. Therefore, -when Mudbury Docimer went down to Cornwall, Imogene was obliged to -accompany him. - -"Is this intended for banishment?" she said to him, when they had -been about a week in the country. - -"What do you call banishment? You used to like the country in the -spring." It was now the middle of April. - -"So I do, and in summer also. But I like nothing under constraint." - -"I am sorry that circumstances should make it imperative upon me to -remain here just at present." - -"Why cannot you tell the truth, Mudbury?" - -"Have I told you any falsehood?" - -"Why do you not say outright that I have been brought down here to be -out of Frank Houston's way?" - -"Because Frank Houston is a name which I do not wish to mention to -you again,--at any rate for some time." - -"What would you do if he were to show himself here?" she asked. - -"Tell him at once that he was not welcome. In other words, I would -not have him here. It is very improbable I should think that he would -come without a direct invitation from me. That invitation he will -never have until I feel satisfied that you and he have changed your -mind again, and that you mean to stick to it." - -"I do not think we shall do that." - -"Then he shall not come down here; nor, as far as I am able to -arrange it, shall you go up to London." - -"Then I am a prisoner?" - -"You may put it as you please," said her brother. "I have no power of -detaining you. Whatever influence I have I think it right to use. I -am altogether opposed to this marriage, believing it to be an absurd -infatuation. I think that he is of the same opinion." - -"No!" said she, indignantly. - -"That I believe to be his feeling," he continued, taking no notice -of her assertion. "He is as perfectly aware as I am that you two are -not adapted to live happily together on an income of a few hundreds -a year. Some time ago it was agreed between you that it was so. You -both were quite of one mind, and I was given to understand that the -engagement was at an end. It was so much at an end that he made -an arrangement for marrying another woman. But your feelings are -stronger than his, and you allowed them to get the better of you. -Then you enticed him back from the purpose on which you had both -decided." - -"Enticed!" said she. "I did nothing of the kind!" - -"Would he have changed his mind if you had not enticed him?" - -"I did nothing of the kind. I offered to remain just as we are." - -"That is all very well. Of course he could not accept such an offer. -Thinking as I do, it is my duty to keep you apart as long as I can. -If you contrive to marry him in opposition to my efforts, the misery -of both of you must be on your head. I tell you fairly that I do not -believe he wishes anything of the kind." - -"I am quite sure he does," said Imogene. - -"Very well. Do you leave him alone; stay down here, and see what will -come of it. I quite agree that such a banishment, as you call it, -is not a happy prospect for you;--but it is happier than that of a -marriage with Frank Houston. Give that up, and then you can go back -to London and begin the world again." - -Begin the world again! She knew what that meant. She was to throw -herself into the market, and look for such other husband as -Providence might send her. She had tried that before, and had -convinced herself that Providence could never send her any that could -be acceptable. The one man had taken possession of her, and there -never could be a second. She had not known her own strength,--or her -own weakness as the case might be,--when she had agreed to surrender -the man she loved because there had been an alteration in their -prospects of an income. She had struggled with herself, had attempted -to amuse herself with the world, had told herself that somebody would -come who would banish that image from her thoughts and heart. She had -bade herself to submit to the separation for his welfare. Then she -had endeavoured to quiet herself by declaring to herself that the -man was no hero,--was unworthy of so much thinking. But it had all -been of no avail. Gertrude Tringle had been a festering sore to her. -Frank, whether a hero or only a commonplace man, was,--as she owned -to herself,--hero enough for her. Then came the opening for a renewal -of the engagement. Frank had been candid with her, and had told her -everything. The Tringle money would not be forthcoming on his behalf. -Then,--not resolving to entice him back again,--she had done so. -The word was odious to her, and was rejected with disdain when used -against her by her brother;--but, when alone, she acknowledged to -herself that it was true. She had enticed her lover back again,--to -his great detriment. Yes; she certainly had enticed him back. She -certainly was about to sacrifice him because of her love. "If I could -only die, and there be an end of it!" she exclaimed to herself. - -Though Tregothnan Hall, as the Docimers' house was called, was not -open to Frank Houston, there was the post running always. He had -written to her half-a-dozen times since she had been in Cornwall, -and had always spoken of their engagement as an affair at last -irrevocably fixed. She, too, had written little notes, tender and -loving, but still tinged by that tone of despondency which had become -common to her. "As for naming a day," she said once, "suppose we fix -the first of January, ten years hence. Mudbury's opposition will be -worn out by old age, and you will have become thoroughly sick of the -pleasures of London." But joined to this there would be a few jokes, -and then some little word of warmest, most enduring, most trusting -love. "Don't believe me if I say that I am not happy in knowing that -I am altogether your own." Then there would come a simple "I" as -a signature, and after that some further badinage respecting her -"Cerberus," as she called her brother. - -But after that word, that odious word, "enticed," there went another -letter up to London of altogether another nature. - -"I have changed my mind again," she said, - - - and have become aware that, though I should die in doing - it,--though we should both die if it were possible,--there - should be an end of everything between you and me. Yes, - Frank; there! I send you back my troth, and demand my own - in return. After all why should not one die;--hang oneself - if it be necessary? To be self-denying is all that is - necessary,--at any rate to a woman. Hanging or lying down - and dying, or lingering on and saying one's prayers and - knitting stockings, is altogether immaterial. I have - sometimes thought Mudbury to be brutal to me, but I have - never known him to be untrue,--or even, as I believe, - mistaken. He sees clearly and knows what will happen. He - tells me that I have enticed you back. I am not true as - he is. So I threw him back the word in his teeth,--though - its truth at the moment was going like a dagger through - my heart. I know myself to have been selfish, unfeeling, - unfeminine, when I induced you to surrender yourself to - a mode of life which will make you miserable. I have - sometimes been proud of myself because I have loved you so - truly; but now I hate myself and despise myself because I - have been incapable of the first effort which love should - make. Love should at any rate be unselfish. - - He tells me that you will be miserable and that the misery - will be on my head,--and I believe him. There shall be an - end of it. I want no promise from you. There may, perhaps, - be a time in which Imogene Docimer as a sturdy old maid - shall be respected and serene of mind. As a wife who had - enticed her husband to his misery she would be respected - neither by him nor by herself,--and as for serenity - it would be quite out of the question. I have been - unfortunate. That is all;--but not half so unfortunate as - others that I see around me. - - _Pray_, _pray_, PRAY, take this as final, and thus save - me from renewed trouble and renewed agony. - - Now I am yours truly,-- - never again will I be affectionate to any one - with true feminine love, - - IMOGENE DOCIMER. - - -Houston when he received the above letter of course had no -alternative but to declare that it could not possibly be regarded -as having any avail. And indeed he had heart enough in his bosom to -be warmed to something like true heat by such words as these. The -cabbages and cradles ran up in his estimation. The small house at -Pau, which in some of his more despondent moments had assumed an -unqualified appearance of domestic discomfort, was now ornamented and -accoutred till it seemed to be a little paradise. The very cabbages -blossomed into roses, and the little babies in the cradles produced -a throb of paternal triumph in his heart. If she were woman enough -to propose to herself such an agony of devotion, could he not be -man enough to demand from her a devotion of a different kind? As to -Mudbury Docimer's truth, he believed in it not at all, but was quite -convinced of the man's brutality. Yes; she should hang herself--but -it should be round his neck. The serenity should be displayed by her -not as an aunt but as a wife and mother. As for enticing, did he -not now,--just in this moment of his manly triumph,--acknowledge to -himself that she had enticed him to his happiness, to his glory, to -his welfare? In this frame of mind he wrote his answer as follows;-- - - - MY DEAREST, - - You have no power of changing your mind again. There must - be some limit to vacillations, and that has been reached. - Something must be fixed at last. Something has been fixed - at last, and I most certainly shall not consent to any - further unfixing. What right has Mudbury to pretend to - know my feelings? or, for the matter of that, what right - have you to accept his description of them? I tell you now - that I place my entire happiness in the hope of making - you my wife. I call upon you to ignore all the selfish - declarations as to my own ideas which I have made in times - past. The only right which you could now possibly have - to separate yourself from me would come from your having - ceased to love me. You do not pretend to say that such is - the case; and therefore, with considerable indignation, - but still very civilly, I desire that Mudbury with his - hard-hearted counsels may go to the ---- - - Enticed! Of course you have enticed me. I suppose that - women do as a rule entice men, either to their advantage - or disadvantage. I will leave it to you to say whether - you believe that such enticement, if it be allowed its - full scope, will lead to one or the other as far as I am - concerned. I never was so happy as when I felt that you - had enticed me back to the hopes of former days. - - Now I am yours, as always, and most affectionately, - - FRANK HOUSTON. - - I shall expect the same word back from you by return of - post scored under as eagerly as those futile "prays." - - -Imogene when she received this was greatly disturbed,--not knowing -how to carry herself in her great resolve,--or whether indeed that -resolve must not be again abandoned. She had determined, should her -lover's answer be as she had certainly intended it to be when she -wrote her letter, to go at once to her brother and to declare to him -that the danger was at an end, and that he might return to London -without any fear of a relapse on her part. But she could not do so -with such a reply as that she now held in her pocket. If that reply -could, in very truth, be true, then there must be another revulsion, -another change of purpose, another yielding to absolute joy. If it -could be the case that Frank Houston no longer feared the dangers -that he had feared before, if he had in truth reconciled himself to -a state of things which he had once described as simple poverty, -if he really placed his happiness on the continuation of his love, -then,--then, why should she make the sacrifice? Why should she place -such implicit confidence in her brother's infallibility against -error, seeing that by doing so she would certainly shipwreck her own -happiness,--and his too, if his words were to be trusted? - -He called upon her to write to him again by return of post. She was -to write to him and unsay those prayers, and comfort him with a -repetition of that dear word which she had declared that she would -never use again with all its true meaning. That was his express order -to her. Should she obey it, or should she not obey it? Should she -vacillate again, or should she leave his last letter unanswered -with stern obduracy? She acknowledged to herself that it was a dear -letter, deserving the best treatment at her hands, giving her lover -credit, probably, for more true honesty than he deserved. What was -the best treatment? Her brother had plainly shown his conviction that -the best treatment would be to leave him without meddling with him -any further. Her sister-in-law, though milder in her language, was, -she feared, of the same opinion. Would it not be better for him not -to be meddled with? Ought not that to be her judgment, looking at the -matter all round? - -She did not at any rate obey him at all points, for she left his -letter in her pocket for three or four days, while she considered the -matter backwards and forwards. - - - - -CHAPTER LX. - -AUNT ROSINA. - - -During this period of heroism it had been necessary to Houston to -have some confidential friend to whom from time to time he could -speak of his purpose. He could not go on eating slices of boiled -mutton at eating-houses, and drinking dribblets of bad wine out -of little decanters no bigger than the bottles in a cruet stand, -without having some one to encourage him in his efforts. It was a -hard apprenticeship, and, coming as it did rather late in life for -such a beginning, and after much luxurious indulgence, required some -sympathy and consolation. There were Tom Shuttlecock and Lord John -Battledore at the club. Lord John was the man as to whose expulsion -because of his contumacious language so much had been said, but who -lived through that and various other dangers. These had been his -special friends, and to them he had confided everything in regard -to the Tringle marriage. Shuttlecock had ridiculed the very idea of -love, and had told him that everything else was to be thrown to the -dogs in pursuit of a good income. Battledore had reminded him that -there was "a deuced deal of cut-and-come-again in a hundred and -twenty thousand pounds." They had been friends, not always altogether -after his own heart, but friends who had served his purpose when he -was making his raid upon Lombard Street. But they were not men to -whom he could descant on the wholesomeness of cabbages as an article -of daily food, or who would sympathise with the struggling joys of -an embryo father. To their thinking, women were occasionally very -convenient as being the depositaries of some of the accruing wealth -of the world. Frank had been quite worthy of their friendship as -having "spotted" and nearly "run down" for himself a well-laden -city heiress. But now Tom Shuttlecock and Lord John Battledore -were distasteful to him,--as would he be to them. But he found the -confidential friend in his maiden aunt. - -Miss Houston was an old lady,--older than her time, as are some -people,--who lived alone in a small house in Green Street. She was -particular in calling it Green Street, Hyde Park. She was very -anxious to have it known that she never occupied it during the months -of August, September, and October,--though it was often the case with -her that she did not in truth expatriate herself for more than six -weeks. She was careful to have a fashionable seat in a fashionable -church. She dearly loved to see her name in the papers when she was -happy enough to be invited to a house whose entertainments were -chronicled. There were a thousand little tricks,--I will not be harsh -enough to call them unworthy,--by which she served Mammon. But she -did not limit her service to the evil spirit. When in her place in -church she sincerely said her prayers. When in London, or out of it, -she gave a modicum of her slender income to the poor. And, though she -liked to see her name in the papers as one of the fashionable world, -she was a great deal too proud of the blood of the Houstons to toady -any one or to ask for any favour. She was a neat, clean, nice-looking -old lady, who understood that if economies were to be made in eating -and drinking they should be effected at her own table and not at that -of the servants who waited upon her. This was the confidential friend -whom Frank trusted in his new career. - -It must be explained that Aunt Rosina, as Miss Houston was called, -had been well acquainted with her nephew's earlier engagement, -and had approved of Imogene as his future wife. Then had come the -unexpected collapse in the uncle's affairs, by which Aunt Rosina as -well as others in the family had suffered,--and Frank, much to his -aunt's displeasure, had allowed himself to be separated from the lady -of his love on account of his comparative poverty. She had heard -of Gertrude Tringle and all her money, but from a high standing of -birth and social belongings had despised all the Tringles and all -their money. To her, as a maiden lady, truth in love was everything. -To her, as a well-born lady, good blood was everything. Therefore, -though there had been no quarrel between her and Frank, there had -been a cessation of sympathetic interest, and he had been thrown into -the hands of the Battledores and Shuttlecocks. Now again the old -sympathies were revived, and Frank found it convenient to drink tea -with his aunt when other engagements allowed it. - -"I call that an infernal interference," he said to his aunt, showing -her Imogene's letters. - -"My dear Frank, you need not curse and swear," said the old lady. - -"Infernal is not cursing nor yet swearing." Then Miss Houston, having -liberated her mind by her remonstrance, proceeded to read the letter. -"I call that abominable," said Frank, alluding of course to the -allusions made in the letter to Mudbury Docimer. - -"It is a beautiful letter;--just what I should have expected from -Imogene. My dear, I will tell you what I propose. Remain as you are -both of you for five years." - -"Five years. That's sheer nonsense." - -"Five years, my dear, will run by like a dream. Five years to look -back upon is as nothing." - -"But these five years are five years to be looked forward to. It is -out of the question." - -"But you say that you could not live as a married man." - -"Live! I suppose we could live." Then he thought of the cabbages and -the cottage at Pau. "There would be seven hundred a-year I suppose." - -"Couldn't you do something, Frank?" - -"What, to earn money? No; I don't think I could. If I attempted to -break stones I shouldn't break enough to pay for the hammers." - -"Couldn't you write a book?" - -"That would be worse than the stones. I sometimes thought I could -paint a picture,--but, if I did, nobody would buy it. As to making -money that is hopeless. I could save some, by leaving off gloves and -allowing myself only three clean shirts a-week." - -"That would be dreadful, Frank." - -"It would be dreadful, but it is quite clear that I must do -something. An effort has to be made." This he said with a voice the -tone of which was almost heroic. Then they discussed the matter at -great length, in doing which Aunt Rosina thoroughly encouraged him -in his heroism. That idea of remaining unmarried for another short -period of five years was allowed to go by the board, and when they -parted on that night it was understood that steps were to be taken to -bring about a marriage as speedily as possible. - -"Perhaps I can do a little to help," said Aunt Rosina, in a faint -whisper as Frank left the room. - -Frank Houston, when he showed Imogene's letter to his aunt, had -already answered it. Then he waited a day or two, not very patiently, -for a further rejoinder from Imogene,--in which she of course was -to unsay all that she had said before. But when, after four or five -days, no rejoinder had come, and his fervour had been increased by -his expectation, then he told his aunt that he should immediately -take some serious step. The more ardent he was the better his aunt -loved him. Could he have gone down and carried off his bride, and -married her at once, in total disregard of the usual wedding-cake and -St.-George's-Hanover-Square ceremonies to which the Houston family -had always been accustomed, she could have found it in her heart to -forgive him. "Do not be rash, Frank," she said. He merely shook his -head, and as he again left her declared that he was not going to be -driven this way or that by such a fellow as Mudbury Docimer. - -"As I live, there's Frank coming through the gate." This was said by -Imogene to her sister-in-law, as they were walking up and down the -road which led from the lodge to the Tregothnan house. The two ladies -were at that moment discussing Imogene's affairs. No rejoinder had -as yet been made to Frank's last letter, which, to Imogene's feeling, -was the most charming epistle which had ever come from the hands of -a true lover. There had been passion and sincerity in every word of -it;--even when he had been a little too strong in his language as he -denounced the hard-hearted counsels of her brother. But yet she had -not responded to all this sincerity, nor had she as yet withdrawn -the resolution which she had herself declared. Mrs. Docimer was of -opinion that that resolution should not be withdrawn, and had striven -to explain that the circumstances were now the same as when, after -full consideration, they had determined that the engagement should -come to an end. At this very moment she was speaking words of wisdom -to this effect, and as she did so Frank appeared, walking up from the -gate. - -"What will Mudbury say?" was Mrs. Docimer's first ejaculation. -But Imogene, before she had considered how this danger might be -encountered, rushed forward and gave herself up,--I fear we must -confess,--into the arms of her lover. After that it was felt at once -that she had withdrawn all her last resolution and had vacillated -again. There was no ground left even for an argument now that she had -submitted herself to be embraced. Frank's words of affection need not -here be repeated, but they were of a nature to leave no doubt on the -minds of either of the ladies. - -Mudbury had declared that he would not receive Houston in his -house as his sister's lover, and had expressed his opinion that -even Houston would not have the face to show his face there. But -Houston had come, and something must be done with him. It was soon -ascertained that he had walked over from Penzance, which was but -two miles off, and had left his portmanteau behind him. "I wouldn't -bring anything," said he. "Mudbury would find it easier to maltreat -my things than myself. It would look so foolish to tell the man with -a fly to carry them back at once. Is he in the house?" - -"He is about the place," said Mrs. Docimer, almost trembling. - -"Is he very fierce against me?" - -"He thinks it had better be all over." - -"I am of a different way of thinking, you see. I cannot acknowledge -that he has any right to dictate to Imogene." - -"Nor can I," said Imogene. - -"Of course he can turn me out." - -"If he does I shall go with you," said Imogene. - -"We have made up our minds to it," said Frank, "and he had better let -us do as we please. He can make himself disagreeable, of course; but -he has got no power to prevent us." Now they had reached the house, -and Frank was of course allowed to enter. Had he not entered neither -would Imogene, who was so much taken by this further instance of -her lover's ardour that she was determined now to be led by him -in everything. His explanation of that word "enticed" had been so -thoroughly satisfactory to her that she was no longer in the least -angry with herself because she had enticed him. She had quite come to -see that it is the duty of a young woman to entice a young man. - -Frank and Imogene were soon left alone, not from any kindness of -feeling on the part of Mrs. Docimer, but because the wife felt it -necessary to find her husband. "Oh, Mudbury, who do you think has -come? He is here!" - -"Houston!" - -"Yes; Frank Houston!" - -"In the house?" - -"He is in the house. But he hasn't brought anything. He doesn't mean -to stay." - -"What does that matter? He shall not be asked even to dine here." - -"If he is turned out she will go with him! If she says so she will do -it. You cannot prevent her. That's what would come of it if she were -to insist on going up to London with him." - -"He is a scoundrel!" - -"No; Mudbury;--not a scoundrel. You cannot call him a scoundrel. -There is something firm about him; isn't there?" - -"To come to my house when I told him not?" - -"But he does really love her." - -"Bother!" - -"At any rate there they are in the breakfast-parlour, and something -must be done. I couldn't tell him not to come in. And she wouldn't -have come without him. There will be enough for them to live upon. -Don't you think you'd better?" Docimer, as he returned to the house, -declared that he "did not think he'd better." But he had to confess -to himself that, whether it were better or whether it were worse, he -could do very little to prevent it. - -The greeting of the two men was anything but pleasant. "What I have -got to say I would rather say outside," said Docimer. - -"Certainly," said Frank. "I suppose I'm to be allowed to return?" - -"If he does not,"--said Imogene, who at her brother's request had -left the room, but still stood at the open door,--"if he does not -I shall go to him in Penzance. You will hardly attempt to keep me a -prisoner." - -"Who says that he is not to return? I think that you are two idiots, -but I am quite aware that I cannot prevent you from being married if -you are both determined." Then he led the way out through the hall, -and Frank followed him. "I cannot understand that any man should be -so fickle," he said, when they were both out on the walk together. - -"Constant, I should suppose you mean." - -"I said fickle, and I meant it. It was at your own suggestion that -you and Imogene were to be separated." - -"No doubt; it was at my suggestion, and with her consent. But you see -that we have changed our minds." - -"And will change them again." - -"We are steady enough in our purpose, now, at any rate. You hear -what she says. If I came down here to persuade her to alter her -purpose,--to talk her into doing something of which you disapproved, -and as to which she agreed with you,--then you might do something by -quarreling with me. But what's the use of it, when she and I are of -one mind? You know that you cannot talk her over." - -"Where do you mean to live?" - -"I'll tell you all about that if you'll allow me to send into -Penzance for my things. I cannot discuss matters with you if you -proclaim yourself to be my enemy. You say we are both idiots." - -"I do." - -"Very well. Then you had better put up with two idiots. You can't -cure their idiocy. Nor have you any authority to prevent them from -exhibiting it." The argument was efficacious though the idiocy was -acknowledged. The portmanteau was sent for, and before the evening -was over Frank had again been received at Tregothnan as Imogene's -accepted lover. - -Then Frank had his story to tell and his new proposition to make. -Aunt Rosina had offered to join her means with his. The house in -Green Street, no doubt, was small, but room it was thought could be -made, at any rate till the necessity had come for various cribs and -various cradles. "I cannot imagine that you will endure to live with -Aunt Rosina," said the brother. - -"Why on earth should I object to Aunt Rosina?" said Imogene. "She and -I have always been friends." In her present mood she would hardly -have objected to live with any old woman, however objectionable. "And -we shall be able to have a small cottage somewhere," said Frank. "She -will keep the house in London, and we shall keep the cottage." - -"And what on earth will you do with yourself?" - -"I have thought of that too," said Frank. "I shall take to painting -pictures in earnest;--portraits probably. I don't see why I shouldn't -do as well as anybody else." - -"That head of yours of old Mrs. Jones," said Imogene, "was a great -deal better than dozens of things one sees every year in the -Academy." - -"Bother!" exclaimed Docimer. - -"I don't see why he should not succeed, if he really will work hard," -said Mrs. Docimer. - -"Bother!" - -"Why should it be bother?" said Frank, put upon his mettle. "Ever so -many fellows have begun and have got on, older than I am. And, even -if I don't earn anything, I've got an employment." - -"And is the painting-room to be in Green Street also?" asked Docimer. - -"Just at present I shall begin by copying things at the National -Gallery," explained Houston, who was not as yet prepared with his -answer to that difficulty as to a studio in the little house in Green -Street. - -When the matter had been carried as far as this it was manifest -enough that anything like opposition to Imogene's marriage was to be -withdrawn. Houston remained at Tregothnan for a couple of days and -then returned to London. A week afterwards the Docimers followed -him, and early in the following June the two lovers, after all their -troubles and many vacillations, were made one at St. George's church, -to the great delight of Aunt Rosina. It cannot be said that the -affair gave equal satisfaction to all the bridegroom's friends, as -may be learnt from the following narration of two conversations which -took place in London very shortly after the wedding. - -"Fancy after all that fellow Houston going and marrying such a -girl as Imogene Docimer, without a single blessed shilling to keep -themselves alive." This was said in the smoking-room of Houston's -club by Lord John Battledore to Tom Shuttlecock; but it was said -quite aloud, so that Houston's various acquaintances might be enabled -to offer their remarks on so interesting a subject; and to express -their pity for the poor object of their commiseration. - -"It's the most infernal piece of folly I ever heard in my life," said -Shuttlecock. "There was that Tringle girl with two hundred thousand -pounds to be had just for the taking;--Traffick's wife's sister, you -know." - -"There was something wrong about that," said another. "Benjamin -Batsby, that stupid fellow who used to be in the twentieth, ran off -with her just when everything had been settled between Houston and -old Tringle." - -"Not a bit of it," said Battledore. "Tringle had quarrelled with -Houston before that. Batsby did go with her, but the governor -wouldn't come down with the money. Then the girl was brought back -and there was no marriage." Upon that the condition of poor Gertrude -in reference to her lovers and her fortune was discussed by those -present with great warmth; but they all agreed that Houston had -proved himself to be a bigger fool than any of them had expected. - -"By George, he's going to set up for painting portraits," said Lord -John, with great disgust. - -In Queen's Gate the matter was discussed by the ladies there very -much in the same spirit. At this time Gertrude was engaged to Captain -Batsby, if not with the full approbation at any rate with the consent -both of her father and mother, and therefore she could speak of -Frank Houston and his bride, if with disdain, still without wounded -feelings. "Here it is in the papers, Francis Houston and Imogene -Docimer," said Mrs. Traffick. - -"So she has really caught him at last!" said Gertrude. - -"There was not much to catch," rejoined Mrs. Traffick. "I doubt -whether they have got L500 a year between them." - -"It does seem so very sudden," said Lady Tringle. - -"Sudden!" said Gertrude. "They have been about it for the last five -years. Of course he has tried to wriggle out of it all through. I am -glad that she has succeeded at last, if only because he deserves it." - -"I wonder where they'll find a place to live in," said Augusta. This -took place in the bedroom which Mrs. Traffick still occupied in -Queen's Gate, when she had been just a month a mother. - -Thus, with the kind assistance of Aunt Rosina, Frank Houston and -Imogene Docimer were married at last, and the chronicler hereby -expresses a hope that it may not be long before Frank may see a -picture of his own hanging on the walls of the Academy, and that he -may live to be afraid of the coming of no baby. - - - - -CHAPTER LXI. - -TOM TRINGLE GOES UPON HIS TRAVELS. - - -We must again go back and pick up our threads to April, having rushed -forward to be present at the wedding of Frank Houston and Imogene -Docimer, which did not take place till near Midsummer. This we must -do at once in regard to Tom Tringle, who, if the matter be looked at -aright, should be regarded as the hero of this little history. Ayala -indeed, who is no doubt the real heroine among so many young ladies -who have been more or less heroic, did not find in him the angel of -whom she had dreamed, and whose personal appearance on earth was -necessary to her happiness. But he had been able very clearly to pick -out an angel for himself, and, though he had failed in his attempts -to take the angel home with him, had been constant in his endeavours -as long as there remained to him a chance of success. He had shown -himself to be foolish, vulgar, and ignorant. He had given way to -Bolivian champagne and Faddle intimacies. He had been silly enough -to think that he could bribe his Ayala with diamonds for herself, -and charm her with cheaper jewelry on his own person. He had thought -to soar high by challenging his rival to a duel, and had then been -tempted by pot courage to strike him in the streets. A very vulgar -and foolish young man! But a young man capable of a persistent -passion! Young men not foolish and not vulgar are, perhaps, common -enough. But the young men of constant heart and capable of such -persistency as Tom's are not to be found every day walking about the -streets of the metropolis. Jonathan Stubbs was constant, too; but it -may be doubted whether the Colonel ever really despaired. The merit -is to despair and yet to be constant. When a man has reason to be -assured that a young lady is very fond of him, he may always hope -that love will follow,--unless indeed the love which he seeks -has been already given away elsewhere. Moreover, Stubbs had many -substantial supports at his back; the relationship of the Marchesa, -the friendship of Lady Albury, the comforts of Stalham,--and not -least, if last, the capabilities and prowess of Croppy. Then, too, -he was neither vulgar nor foolish nor ignorant. Tom Tringle had -everything against him,--everything that would weigh with Ayala; and -yet he fought his battle out to the last gasp. Therefore, I desire my -hearers to regard Tom Tringle as the hero of the transactions with -which they have been concerned, and to throw their old shoes after -him as he starts away upon his grand tour. - -"Tom, my boy, you have to go, you know, in four days," said his -father to him. At this time Tom had as yet given no positive consent -as to his departure. He had sunk into a low state of moaning and -groaning, in which he refused even to accede to the doctrine of the -expediency of a manly bearing. "What's the good of telling a lie -about it?" he would say to his mother. "What's the good of manliness -when a fellow would rather be drowned?" He had left his bed indeed, -and had once or twice sauntered out of the house. He had been -instigated by his sister to go down to his club, under the idea -that by such an effort he would shake off the despondency which -overwhelmed him. But he had failed in the attempts, and had walked by -the doors of the Mountaineers, finding himself unable to face the -hall-porter. But still the preparations for his departure were going -on. It was presumed that he was to leave London for Liverpool on the -Friday, and his father had now visited him in his own room on the -Tuesday evening with the intention of extorting from him his final -consent. Sir Thomas had on that morning expressed himself very freely -to his son-in-law Mr. Traffick, and on returning home had been glad -to find that his words had been of avail, at any rate as regarded the -dinner-hour. He was tender-hearted towards his son, and disposed to -tempt him rather than threaten him into obedience. - -"I haven't ever said I would go," replied Tom. - -"But you must, you know. Everything has been packed up, and I want to -make arrangements with you about money. I have got a cabin for you to -yourself, and Captain Merry says that you will have a very pleasant -passage. The equinoxes are over." - -"I don't care about the equinoxes," said Tom. "I should like bad -weather if I am to go." - -"Perhaps you may have a touch of that, too." - -"If the ship could be dashed against a rock I should prefer it!" -exclaimed Tom. - -"That's nonsense. The Cunard ships never are dashed against rocks. -By the time you've been three days at sea you'll be as hungry as a -hunter. Now, Tom, how about money?" - -"I don't care about money," said Tom. - -"Don't you? Then you're very unlike anybody else that I meet. I think -I had better give you power to draw at New York, San Francisco, -Yokohama, Pekin, and Calcutta." - -"Am I to go to Pekin?" asked Tom, with renewed melancholy. - -"Well, yes;--I think so. You had better see what the various houses -are doing in China. And then from Calcutta you can go up the country. -By that time I dare say we shall have possession of Cabul. With such -a government as we have now, thank God! the Russians will have been -turned pretty nearly out of Asia by this time next year."* - - - [*It has to be stated that this story was written in 1878.] - - -"Am I to be away more than a year?" - -"If I were you," said the father, glad to catch the glimmer of assent -which was hereby implied,--"if I were you I would do it thoroughly -whilst I was about it. Had I seen so much when I was young I should -have been a better man of business." - -"It's all the same to me," said Tom. "Say ten years, if you like it! -Say twenty! I shan't ever want to come back again. Where am I to go -after Cabul?" - -"I didn't exactly fix it that you should go to Cabul. Of course you -will write home and give me your own opinion as you travel on. You -will stay two or three months probably in the States." - -"Am I to go to Niagara?" he asked. - -"Of course you will, if you wish it. The Falls of Niagara, I am told, -are very wonderful." - -"If a man is to drown himself," said Tom, "it's the sort of place to -do it effectually." - -"Oh, Tom!" exclaimed his father. "Do you speak to me in that way when -I am doing everything in my power to help you in your trouble?" - -"You cannot help me," said Tom. - -"Circumstances will. Time will do it. Employment will do it. A sense -of your dignity as a man will do it, when you find yourself amongst -others who know nothing of what you have suffered. You revel in your -grief now because those around you know that you have failed. All -that will be changed when you are with strangers. You should not talk -to your father of drowning yourself!" - -"That was wrong. I know it was wrong," said Tom, humbly. "I won't do -it if I can help it,--but perhaps I had better not go there. And how -long ought I to stay at Yokohama? Perhaps you had better put it all -down on a bit of paper." Then Sir Thomas endeavoured to explain to -him that all that he said now was in the way of advice. That it would -be in truth left to himself to go almost where he liked, and to stay -at each place almost as long as he liked;--that he would be his own -master, and that within some broad and undefined limits he would have -as much money as he pleased to spend. Surely no preparations for a -young man's tour were ever made with more alluring circumstances! But -Tom could not be tempted into any expression of satisfaction. - -This, however, Sir Thomas did gain,--that before he left his son's -room it was definitely settled,--that Tom should take his departure -on the Friday, going down to Liverpool by an afternoon train on that -day. "I tell you what," said Sir Thomas; "I'll go down with you, see -you on board the ship, and introduce you to Captain Merry. I shall be -glad of an opportunity of paying a visit to Liverpool." And so the -question of Tom's departure was settled. - -On the Wednesday and Thursday he seemed to take some interest in -his bags and portmanteaus, and began himself to look after those -assuagements of the toils of travel which are generally dear to young -men. He interested himself in a fur coat, in a well-arranged despatch -box, and in a very neat leathern case which was intended to hold two -brandy flasks. He consented to be told of the number of his shirts, -and absolutely expressed an opinion that he should want another pair -of dress-boots. When this occurred every female bosom in the house, -from Lady Tringle's down to the kitchenmaid's, rejoiced at the signs -of recovery which evinced themselves. But neither Lady Tringle nor -the kitchenmaid, nor did any of the intermediate female bosoms, know -how he employed himself when he left the house on that Thursday -afternoon. He walked across the Park, and, calling at Kingsbury -Crescent, left a note addressed to his aunt. It was as follows:--"I -start to-morrow afternoon,--I hardly know whither. It may be for -years or it may be for ever. I should wish to say a word to Ayala -before I go. Will she see me if I come at twelve o'clock exactly -to-morrow morning? I will call for an answer in half-an-hour. T. T., -junior. Of course I am aware that Ayala is to become the bride of -Colonel Jonathan Stubbs." In half-an-hour he returned, and got his -answer. "Ayala will be glad to have an opportunity of saying good-bye -to you to-morrow morning." - -From this it will be seen that Ayala had at that time returned from -Stalham to Kingsbury Crescent. She had come back joyful in heart, -thoroughly triumphant as to her angel, with everything in the world -sweet and happy before her,--desirous if possible to work her fingers -off in mending the family linen, if only she could do something for -somebody in return for all the joy that the world was giving her. -When she was told that Tom wished to see her for the last time,--for -the last time at any rate before her marriage,--she assented at once. -"I think you should see him as he asks it," said her aunt. - -"Poor Tom! Of course I will see him." And so the note was written -which Tom received when he called the second time at the door. - -At half-past eleven he skulked out of the house in Queen's Gate, -anxious to avoid his mother and sisters, who were on their side -anxious to devote every remaining minute of the time to his comfort -and welfare. I am afraid it must be acknowledged that he went with -all his jewelry. It could do no good. At last he was aware of that. -But still he thought that she would like him better with his jewelry -than without it. Stubbs wore no gems, not even a ring, and Ayala when -she saw her cousin enter the room could only assure herself that the -male angels certainly were never be-jewelled. She was alone in the -drawing-room, Mrs. Dosett having arranged that at the expiration of -ten minutes, which were to be allowed to Tom for his private adieux, -she would come down to say good-bye to her nephew. "Ayala!" said Tom. - -"So you are going away,--for a very long journey, Tom." - -"Yes, Ayala; for a very long journey; to Pekin and Cabul, if I live -through, to get to those sort of places." - -"I hope you will live through, Tom." - -"Thank you, Ayala. Thank you. I daresay I shall. They tell me I shall -get over it. I don't feel like getting over it now." - -"You'll find some beautiful young lady at Pekin, perhaps." - -"Beauty will never have any effect upon me again, Ayala. Beauty -indeed! Think what I have suffered from beauty! From the first moment -in which you came down to Glenbogie I have been a victim to it. It -has destroyed me,--destroyed me!" - -"I am sure you will come back quite well," said Ayala, hardly knowing -how to answer the last appeal. - -"Perhaps I may. If I can only get my heart to turn to stone, then I -shall. I don't know why I should have been made to care so much about -it. Other people don't." - -"And now we must say, Good-bye, I suppose." - -"Oh, yes;--good-bye! I did want to say one or two words if you ain't -in a hurry. Of course you'll be his bride now." - -"I hope so," said Ayala. - -"I take that for granted. Of course I hate him." - -"Oh, Tom; you shan't say that." - -"It's human nature! I can tell a lie if you want it. I'd do anything -for you. But you may tell him this: I'm very sorry I struck him." - -"He knows that, Tom. He has said so to me." - -"He behaved well to me,--very well,--as he always does to everybody." - -"Now, Tom, that is good of you. I do like you so much for saying -that." - -"But I hate him!" - -"No!" - -"The evil spirits always hate the good ones. I am conscious of an -evil spirit within my bosom. It is because my spirit is evil that you -would not love me. He is good, and you love him." - -"Yes; I do," said Ayala. - -"And now we will change the conversation. Ayala, I have got a little -present which you must take from me." - -"Oh, no!" said Ayala, thinking of the diamond necklace. - -"It's only a little thing,--and I hope you will." Then he brought out -from his pocket a small brooch which he had selected from his own -stock of jewelry for the occasion. "We are cousins, you know." - -"Yes, we are cousins," said Ayala, accepting the brooch, but still -accepting it unwillingly. - -"He must be very disdainful if he would object to such a little thing -as this," said Tom, referring to the Colonel. - -"He is not at all disdainful. He will not object in the least. I am -sure of that, Tom. I will take it then, and I will wear it sometimes -as a memento that we have parted like friends,--as cousins should -do." - -"Yes, as friends," said Tom, who thought that even that word was -softer to his ear than cousins. Then he took her by the hand and -looked into her face wistfully, thinking what might be the effect -if for the last and for the first time he should snatch a kiss. Had -he done so I think she would have let it pass without rebuke under -the guise of cousinship. It would have been very disagreeable;--but -then he was going away for so long a time, for so many miles! But at -the moment Mrs. Dosett came in, and Ayala was saved. "Good-bye," he -said; "good-bye," and without waiting to take the hand which his aunt -offered him he hurried out of the room, out of the house, and back -across the Gardens to Queen's Gate. - -At Queen's Gate there was an early dinner, at three o'clock, at which -Sir Thomas did not appear, as he had arranged to come out of the -city and meet his son at the railway station. There were, therefore, -sitting at the board for the last time the mother and the two sisters -with the intending traveller. "Oh, Tom," said Lady Tringle, as -soon as the servant had left them together, "I do so hope you will -recover." - -"Of course he will recover," said Augusta. - -"Why shouldn't he recover?" asked Gertrude. "It's all in a person's -mind. If he'd only make up his mind not to think about her the thing -would be done, and there would be nothing the matter with him." - -"There are twenty others, ever so much better than Ayala, would have -him to-morrow," said his mother. - -"And be glad to catch him," said Gertrude. "He's not like one of -those who haven't got anything to make a wife comfortable with." - -"As for Ayala," said Augusta, "she didn't deserve such good luck. -I am told that that Colonel Stubbs can't afford to keep any kind of -carriage for her. But then, to be sure, she has never been used to a -carriage." - -"Oh, Tom, do look up," said his mother, "and say that you will try to -be happy." - -"He'll be all right in New York," said Gertrude. "There's no place in -the world, they say, where the girls put themselves forward so much, -and make things so pleasant for the young men." - -"He will soon find some one there," said Augusta, "with a deal more -to say for herself than Ayala, and a great deal better-looking." - -"I hope he will find some one who will really love him," said his -mother. - -Tom sat silent while he listened to all this encouragement, turning -his face from one speaker to the other. It was continued, with many -other similar promises of coming happiness, and assurances that -he had been a gainer in losing all that he lost, when he suddenly -turned sharply upon them, and strongly expressed his feelings to his -sisters. "I don't believe that either of you know anything about it," -he said. - -"Don't know anything about what?" said Augusta, who as a lady who -had been married over twelve months, and was soon about to become a -mother, felt that she certainly did know all about it. - -"Why don't we know as well as you?" asked Gertrude, who had also had -her experiences. - -"I don't believe you do know anything about it;--that's all," said -Tom. "And now there's the cab. Good-bye, mother! Good-bye, Augusta. -I hope you'll be all right." This alluded to the baby. "Good-bye, -Gertrude. I hope you'll get all right too some day." This alluded to -Gertrude's two lovers. Then he left them, and as he got into his cab -declared to himself that neither of them had ever, or would ever, -know anything of that special trouble which had so nearly overwhelmed -himself. - -"Upon my word, Tom," said his father, walking about the vessel with -him, "I wish I were going to New York myself with you;--it all looks -so comfortable." - -"Yes," said Tom, "it's very nice." - -"You'll enjoy yourself amazingly. There is that Mrs. Thompson has two -as pretty daughters with her as ever a man wished to see." Tom shook -his head. "And you're fond of smoking. Did you see the smoking-room? -They've got everything on board these ships now. Upon my word I envy -you the voyage." - -"It's as good as anything else, I daresay," said Tom. "Perhaps it's -better than London." - -Then his father, who had been speaking aloud to him, whispered a word -in his ear. "Shake yourself, Tom;--shake yourself, and get over it." - -"I am trying," said Tom. - -"Love is a very good thing, Tom, when a man can enjoy it, and make -himself warm with it, and protect himself by it from selfishness and -hardness of heart. But when it knocks a man's courage out of him, and -makes him unfit for work, and leaves him to bemoan himself, there's -nothing good in it. It's as bad as drink. Don't you know that I am -doing the best I can for you, to make a man of you?" - -"I suppose so." - -"Then shake yourself, as I call it. It is to be done, if you set -about it in earnest. Now, God bless you, my boy." Then Sir Thomas -got into his boat, and left his son to go upon his travels and get -himself cured by a change of scene. - -I have no doubt that Tom was cured, if not before he reached New -York, at any rate before he left that interesting city;--so that when -he reached Niagara, which he did do in company with Mrs. Thompson and -her charming daughters, he entertained no idea of throwing himself -down the Falls. We cannot follow him on that prolonged tour to Japan -and China, and thence to Calcutta and Bombay. I fancy that he did -not go on to Cabul, as before that time the Ministry in England was -unfortunately changed, and the Russians had not as yet been expelled -from Asia;--but I have little doubt that he obtained a great deal of -very useful mercantile information, and that he will live to have -a comfortable wife and a large family, and become in the course of -years the senior partner in the great house of Travers and Treason. -Let us, who have soft hearts, now throw our old shoes after him. - - - - -CHAPTER LXII. - -HOW VERY MUCH HE LOVED HER. - - -We have seen how Mr. Traffick was finally turned out of his -father-in-law's house;--or, rather, not quite finally when we last -saw him, as he continued to sleep at Queen's Gate for two or three -nights after that, until he had found shelter for his head. This he -did without encountering Sir Thomas, Sir Thomas pretending the while -to believe that he was gone; and then in very truth his last pair -of boots was removed. But his wife remained, awaiting the great -occurrence with all the paternal comforts around her, Mr. Traffick -having been quite right in surmising that the father would not expose -his daughter in her delicate condition to the inclemencies of the -weather. - -But this no more than natural attention on the part of the father and -grandfather to the needs of his own daughter and grandchild did not -in the least mitigate in the bosom of the Member of Parliament the -wrath which he felt at his own expulsion. It was not, as he said to -himself, the fact that he was expelled, but the coarseness of the -language used. "The truth is," he said to a friend in the House, -"that, though it was arranged I should remain there till after my -wife's confinement, I could not bear his language." It will probably -be acknowledged that the language was of a nature not to be borne. - -When, therefore, Captain Batsby went down to the House on the day -of Tom's departure to see his counsellor he found Mr. Traffick full -rather of anger than of counsel. "Oh, yes," said the Member, walking -with the Captain up and down some of the lobbies, "I spoke to him, -and told him my mind very freely. When I say I'll do a thing, I -always do it. And as for Tringle, nobody knows him better than I. It -does not do to be afraid of him. There is a little bit of the cur -about him." - -"What did he say?" - -"He didn't like it. The truth is--. You know I don't mind speaking to -you openly." - -"Oh, no," said Batsby. - -"He thinks he ought to do as well with the second girl as he has -done with the first." Captain Batsby at this opened his eyes, but -he said nothing. Having a good income of his own, he thought much -of it. Not being the younger son of a lord, and not being a Member -of Parliament, he thought less of the advantages of those high -privileges. It did not suit him, however, to argue the question at -the present moment. "He is proud of his connection with our family, -and looks perhaps even more than he ought to do to a seat in the -House." - -"I could get in myself if I cared for it," said Batsby. - -"Very likely. It is more difficult than ever to find a seat just now. -A family connection of course does help one. I had to trust to that a -good deal before I was known myself." - -"But what did Sir Thomas say?" - -"He made himself uncommonly disagreeable;--I can tell you that. He -couldn't very well abuse me, but he wasn't very particular in what he -said about you. Of course he was cut up about the elopement. We all -felt it. Augusta was very much hurt. In her precarious state it was -so likely to do a mischief." - -"It can't be undone now." - -"No;--it can't be undone. But it makes one feel that you can't make -a demand for money as though you set about it in the other way. When -I made up my mind to marry I stated what I thought I had a right -to demand, and I got it. He knew very well that I shouldn't take a -shilling less. It does make a difference when he knows very well that -you've got to marry the girl whether with or without money." - -"I haven't got to marry the girl at all." - -"Haven't you? I rather think you have, old fellow. It is generally -considered that when a gentleman has gone off with a girl he means to -marry her." - -"Not if the father comes after her and brings her back." - -"And when he has gone afterwards to the family house and proposed -himself again in the mother's presence." In all this Mr. Traffick -received an unfair advantage from the communications which were made -to him by his wife. "Of course you must marry her. Sir Thomas knows -that, and, knowing it, why should he be flush with his money? I never -allowed myself to say a single word they could use against me till -the ready-money-down had been all settled." - -"What was it he did say?" Batsby was thoroughly sick of hearing his -counsellor tell so many things as to his own prudence and his own -success, and asked the question in an angry tone. - -"He said that he would not consider the question of money at all till -the marriage had been solemnised. Of course he stands on his right. -Why shouldn't he? But, rough as he is, he isn't stingy. Give him his -due. He isn't stingy. The money's there all right; and the girl is -his own child. You'll have to wait his time;--that's all." - -"And have nothing to begin with?" - -"That'll be about it, I think. But what does it matter, Batsby? You -are always talking about your income." - -"No, I aint; not half so much as you do of your seat in -Parliament,--which everybody says you are likely to lose at the next -election." Then, of course, there was a quarrel. Mr. Traffick took -his offended dignity back to the House,--almost doubting whether it -might not be his duty to bring Captain Batsby to the bar for contempt -of privilege; and the Captain took himself off in thorough disgust. - -Nevertheless there was the fact that he had engaged himself to the -young lady a second time. He had run away with her with the object -of marrying her, and had then, according to his own theory in such -matters,--been relieved from his responsibility by the appearance of -the father and the re-abduction of the young lady. As the young lady -had been taken away from him it was to be supposed that the intended -marriage was negatived by a proper authority. When starting for -Brussels he was a free man; and had he been wise he would have -remained there, or at some equally safe distance from the lady's -charms. Then, from a distance, he might have made his demand for -money, and the elopement would have operated in his favour rather -than otherwise. But he had come back, and had foolishly allowed -himself to be persuaded to show himself at Queen's Gate. He had -obeyed Traffick's advice, and now Traffick had simply thrown him over -and quarrelled with him. He had too promised, in the presence both of -the mother and the married sister, that he would marry the young lady -without any regard to money. He felt it all and was very angry with -himself, consoling himself as best he might with the reflection that -Sir Thomas's money was certainly safe, and that Sir Thomas himself -was a liberal man. In his present condition it would be well for him, -he thought, to remain inactive and see what circumstances would do -for him. - -But circumstances very quickly became active. On his return to his -lodgings, after leaving Mr. Traffick, he found a note from Queen's -Gate. "Dearest Ben,--Mamma wants you to come and lunch to-morrow. -Papa has taken poor Tom down to Liverpool, and won't be back till -dinner-time.--G." He did not do as he was bid, alleging some -engagement of business. But the persecution was continued in such -a manner as to show him that all opposition on his part would be -hopeless unless he were to proceed on some tour as prolonged as that -of his future brother-in-law. "Come and walk at three o'clock in -Kensington Gardens to-morrow." This was written on the Saturday after -his note had been received. What use would there be in continuing a -vain fight? He was in their hands, and the more gracefully he yielded -the more probable it would be that the father would evince his -generosity at an early date. He therefore met his lady-love on the -steps of the Albert Memorial, whither she had managed to take herself -all alone from the door of the family mansion. - -"Ben," she said, as she greeted him, "why did you not come for me to -the house?" - -"I thought you would like it best." - -"Why should I like it best? Of course mamma knows all about it. -Augusta would have come with me just to see me here, only that she -cannot walk out just at present." Then he said something to her about -the Monument, expressed his admiration of the Prince's back, abused -the east wind, remarked that the buds were coming on some of the -trees, and suggested that the broad road along by the Round Pond -would be drier than the little paths. It was not interesting, as -Gertrude felt; but she had not expected him to be interesting. The -interest she knew must be contributed by herself. "Ben," she said, -"I was so happy to hear what you said to mamma the other day." - -"What did I say?" - -"Why, of course, that, as papa has given his consent, our engagement -is to go on just as if--" - -"Just as if what?" - -"As if we had found the clergyman at Ostend." - -"If we had done that we should have been married now," suggested -Batsby. - -"Exactly. And it's almost as good as being married;--isn't it?" - -"I suppose it comes to the same thing." - -"Hadn't you better go to papa again and have it all finished?" - -"He makes himself so very unpleasant." - -"That's only because he wants to punish us for running away. I -suppose it was wrong. I shall never be sorry, because it made me know -how very, very much you loved me. Didn't it make you feel how very, -very dearly I loved you,--to trust myself all alone with you in that -way?" - -"Oh, yes; of course." - -"And papa can't bite you, you know. You go to him, and tell him that -you hope to be received in the house as my,--my future husband, you -know." - -"Shall I say nothing else?" - -"You mean about the day?" - -"I was meaning about money." - -"I don't think I would. He is very generous, but he does not like to -be asked. When Augusta was to be married he arranged all that himself -after they were engaged." - -"But Traffick demanded a certain sum?" This question Captain Batsby -asked with considerable surprise, remembering what Mr. Traffick had -said to him in reference to Augusta's fortune. - -"Not at all. Septimus knew nothing about it till after the -engagement. He was only too glad to get papa's consent. You mustn't -believe all that Septimus says, you know. You may be sure of -this,--that you can trust papa's generosity." Then, before he landed -her at the door in Queen's Gate, he had promised that he would make -another journey to Lombard Street, with the express purpose of -obtaining Sir Thomas's sanction to the marriage,--either with or -without money. - -"How are you again?" said Sir Thomas, when the Captain was for the -third time shown into the little back parlour. "Have you had another -trip to the continent since I saw you?" Sir Thomas was in a good -humour. Tom had gone upon his travels; Mr. Traffick had absolutely -taken himself out of the house; and the millions were accommodating -themselves comfortably. - -"No, Sir Thomas; I haven't been abroad since then. I don't keep on -going abroad constantly in that way." - -"And what can I do for you now?" - -"Of course it's about your daughter. I want to have your permission -to consider ourselves engaged." - -"I explained to you before that if you and Gertrude choose to marry -each other I shall not stand in your way." - -"Thank you, Sir." - -"I don't know that it is much to thank me for. Only that she made a -fool of herself by running away with you I should have preferred to -wait till some more sensible candidate had proposed himself for her -hand. I don't suppose you'll ever set the Thames on fire." - -"I did very well in the army." - -"It's a pity you did not remain there, and then, perhaps, you would -not have gone to Ostend with my daughter. As it is, there she is. I -think she might have done better with herself; but that is her fault. -She has made her bed and she must lie upon it." - -"If we are to be married I hope you won't go on abusing me always, -Sir Thomas." - -"That's as you behave. You didn't suppose that I should allow such a -piece of tomfoolery as that to be passed over without saying anything -about it! If you marry her and behave well to her I will--" Then he -paused. - -"What will you do, Sir Thomas?" - -"I'll say as little as possible about the Ostend journey." - -"And as to money, Sir Thomas?" - -"I think I have promised quite enough for you. You are not in a -position, Captain Batsby, to ask me as to money;--nor is she. You -shall marry her without a shilling,--or you shall not marry her at -all. Which is it to be? I must have an end put to all this. I won't -have you hanging about my house unless I know the reason why. Are you -two engaged to each other?" - -"I suppose we are," said Batsby, lugubriously. - -"Suppose is not enough." - -"We are," said Batsby, courageously. - -"Very well. Then, from this moment, Ostend shall be as though there -weren't such a seaport anywhere in Europe. I will never allude to the -place again,--unless, perhaps, you should come and stay with me too -long when I am particularly anxious to get rid of you. Now you had -better go and settle about the time and all that with Lady Tringle, -and tell her that you mean to come and dine to-morrow or next day, -or whenever it suits. Come and dine as often as you please, only do -not bring your wife to live with me pertinaciously when you're not -asked." All this Captain Batsby did not understand, but, as he left -Lombard Street, he made up his mind that of all the men he had ever -met, Sir Thomas Tringle, his future father-in-law, was the most -singular. "He's a better fellow than Traffick," said Sir Thomas to -himself when he was alone, "and as he has trusted me so far I'll not -throw him over." - -The Captain now had no hesitation in taking himself to Queen's Gate. -As he was to be married he might as well make the best of such -delights as were to be found in the happy state of mutual affection. -"My dear, dearest Benjamin, I am so happy," said Lady Tringle, -dissolved in tears as she embraced her son-in-law that was to be. -"You will always be so dear to me!" In this she was quite true. -Traffick was not dear to her. She had at first thought much of Mr. -Traffick's position and noble blood, but, of late, she too had -become very tired of Mr. Traffick. Augusta took almost too much upon -herself, and Mr. Traffick's prolonged presence had been an eyesore. -Captain Batsby was softer, and would be much more pleasant as a -son-in-law. Even the journey to Ostend had had a good effect in -producing a certain humility. - -"My dear Benjamin," said Augusta, "we shall always be so happy to -entertain you as a brother. Mr. Traffick has a great regard for -you, and said from the first that if you behaved as you ought to do -after that little journey he would arrange that everything should go -straight between you and papa. I was quite sure that you would come -forward at once as a man." - -But Gertrude's delight was, of course, the strongest, and Gertrude's -welcoming the warmest,--as was proper. "When I think of it," she said -to him, "I don't know how I should ever have looked anybody in the -face again,--after our going away with our things mixed up in that -way." - -"I am glad rather now that we didn't find the clergyman." - -"Oh, certainly," said Gertrude. "I don't suppose anybody would have -given me anything. Now there'll be a regular wedding, and, of course, -there will be the presents." - -"And, though nothing is to be settled, I suppose he will do -something." - -"And it would have been very dreadful, not having a regular -trousseau," said Gertrude. "Mamma will, of course, do now just as she -did about Augusta. He allowed her L300! Only think;--if we had been -married at Ostend you would have had to buy things for me before -the first month was out. I hadn't more than half-a-dozen pair of -stockings with me." - -"He can't but say now that we have done as he would have us," added -the Captain. "I do suppose that he will not be so unnatural as not to -give something when Augusta had L200,000." - -"Indeed, she had not. But you'll see that sooner or later papa will -do for me quite as well as for Augusta." In this way they were happy -together, consoling each other for any little trouble which seemed -for a while to cloud their joys, and basking in the full sunshine of -their permitted engagement. - -The day was soon fixed, but fixed not entirely in reference to the -wants of Gertrude and her wedding. Lucy had also to be married -from the same house, and the day for her marriage had already been -arranged. Sir Thomas had ordered that everything should be done for -Lucy as though she were a daughter of the house, and her wedding had -been arranged for the last week in May. When he heard that Ayala and -Colonel Stubbs were also engaged he was anxious that the two sisters -should be "buckled," as he called it, on the same occasion,--and he -magnanimously offered to take upon himself the entire expense of the -double arrangement, intimating that the people in Kingsbury Crescent -had hardly room enough for a wedding. But Ayala, acting probably -under Stalham influences, would not consent to this. Lady Albury, who -was now in London, was determined that Ayala's marriage should take -place from her own house; and, as Aunt Margaret and Uncle Reginald -had consented, that matter was considered as settled. But Sir Thomas, -having fixed his mind upon a double wedding, resolved that Gertrude -and Lucy should be the joint brides. Gertrude, who still suffered -perhaps a little in public estimation from the Ostend journey, was -glad enough to wipe out that stain as quickly as possible, and did -not therefore object to the arrangement. But to the Captain there was -something in it by which his more delicate feelings were revolted. -It was a matter of course that Ayala should be present at her -sister's wedding, and would naturally appear there in the guise -of a bridesmaid. She would also, now, act as a bridesmaid to -Gertrude,--her future position as Mrs. Colonel Stubbs giving her, as -was supposed, sufficient dignity for that honourable employment. But -Captain Batsby, not so very long ago, had appeared among the suitors -for Ayala's hand; and therefore, as he said to Gertrude, he felt a -little shamefaced about it. "What does that signify?" said Gertrude. -"If you say nothing to her about it, I'll be bound she'll say nothing -to you." And so it was on the day of the wedding. Ayala did not say -a word to Captain Batsby, nor did Captain Batsby say very much to -Ayala. - -On the day before his marriage Captain Batsby paid a fourth visit to -Lombard Street in obedience to directions from Sir Thomas. "There, -my boy," said he, "though you and Gertrude did take a little journey -on the sly to a place which we will not mention, you shan't take her -altogether empty-handed." Then he explained certain arrangements -which he had made for endowing Gertrude with an allowance, which -under the circumstance the bridegroom could not but feel to be -liberal. It must be added, that, considering the shortness of time -allowed for getting them together, the amount of wedding presents -bestowed was considered by Gertrude to be satisfactory. As Lucy's -were exhibited at the same time the show was not altogether mean. -"No doubt I had twice as much as the two put together," said Mrs. -Traffick to Ayala up in her bedroom, "but then of course Lord -Boardotrade's rank would make people give." - - - - -CHAPTER LXIII. - -AYALA AGAIN IN LONDON. - - -After that last walk in Gobblegoose Wood, after Lady Tringle's -unnecessary journey to Stalham on the Friday, and the last -day's hunting with Sir Harry's hounds,--which took place on the -Saturday,--Ayala again became anxious to go home. Her anxiety was in -its nature very different from that which had prompted her to leave -Stalham on an appointed day lest she should seem to be waiting for -the coming of Colonel Stubbs. "No; I don't want to run away from him -any more," she said to Lady Albury. "I want to be with him always, -and I hope he won't run away from me. But I've got to be somewhere -where I can think about it all for a little time." - -"Can't you think about it here?" - -"No;--one can never think about a thing where it has all taken place. -I must be up in my own little room in Kingsbury Crescent, and must -have Aunt Margaret's work around me,--so that I may realise what -is going to come. Not but what I mean to do a great deal of work -always." - -"Mend his stockings?" - -"Yes,--if he wears stockings. I know he doesn't. He always wears -socks. He told me so. Whatever he has, I'll mend,--or make if he -wants me. - - 'I can bake and I can brew, - And I can make an Irish stew;-- - Wash a shirt, and iron it too.'" - -Then, as she sang her little song, she clapped her hands together. - -"Where did you get all your poetry?" - -"He taught me that. We are not going to be fine people,--except -sometimes when we may be invited to Stalham. But I must go on -Thursday, Lady Albury. I came for a week, and I have been here ever -since the middle of February. It seems years since the old woman told -me I was perverse, and he said that she was right." - -"Think how much you have done since that time." - -"Yes, indeed. I very nearly destroyed myself;--didn't I?" - -"Not very nearly." - -"I thought I had. It was only when you showed me his letter on that -Sunday morning that I began to have any hopes. I wonder what Mr. -Greene preached about that morning. I didn't hear a word. I kept on -repeating what he said in the postscript." - -"Was there a postscript?" - -"Of course there was. Don't you remember?" - -"No, indeed; not I." - -"The letter would have been nothing without the postscript. He said -that Croppy was to come back for me. I knew he wouldn't say that -unless he meant to be good to me. And yet I wasn't quite sure of -it. I know it now; don't I? But I must go, Lady Albury. I ought to -let Aunt Margaret know all about it." Then it was settled that she -should go on the Thursday,--and on the Thursday she went. As it was -now considered quite wrong that she should travel by the railway -alone,--in dread, probably, lest the old lady should tell her again -how perverse she had been,--Colonel Stubbs accompanied her. It had -then been decided that the wedding must take place at Stalham, and -many messages were sent to Mr. and Mrs. Dosett assuring them that -they would be made very welcome on the occasion. "My own darling Lucy -will be away at that time with her own young man," said Ayala, in -answer to further invitations from Lady Albury. - -"And so you've taken Colonel Stubbs at last," said her Aunt Margaret. - -"He has taken me, aunt. I didn't take him." - -"But you refused him ever so often." - -"Well;--yes. I don't think I quite refused him." - -"I thought you did." - -"It was a dreadful muddle, Aunt Margaret;--but it has come right at -last, and we had better not talk about that part of it." - -"I was so sure you didn't like him." - -"Not like him? I always liked him better than anybody else in the -world that I ever saw." - -"Dear me!" - -"Of course I shouldn't say so if it hadn't come right at last. I may -say whatever I please about it now, and I declare that I always loved -him. A girl can be such a fool! I was, I know. I hope you are glad, -aunt." - -"Of course I am. I am glad of anything that makes you happy. It -seemed such a pity that, when so many gentlemen were falling in love -with you all round, you couldn't like anybody." - -"But I did like somebody, Aunt Margaret. And I did like the -best,--didn't I?" In answer to this Mrs. Dosett made no reply, having -always had an aunt's partiality for poor Tom, in spite of all his -chains. - -Her uncle's congratulations were warmer even than her aunt's. - -"My dear girl," he said, "I am rejoiced indeed that you should have -before you such a prospect of happiness. I always felt how sad for -you was your residence here, with two such homely persons as your -aunt and myself." - -"I have always been happy with you," said Ayala,--perhaps straining -the truth a little in her anxiety to be courteous. "And I know," she -added, "how much Lucy and I have always owed you since poor papa's -death." - -"Nevertheless, it has been dull for a young girl like you. Now you -will have your own duties, and if you endeavour to do them properly -the world will never be dull to you." And then there were some few -words about the wedding. "We have no feeling, my dear," said her -uncle, "except to do the best we can for you. We should have been -glad to see you married from here if that had suited. But, as this -lover of yours has grand friends of his own, I dare say their place -may be the better." Ayala could hardly explain to her uncle that she -had acceded to Lady Albury's proposal because, by doing so, she would -spare him the necessary expense of the wedding. - -But Ayala's great delight was in meeting her sister. The two girls -had not seen each other since the engagement of either of them had -been ratified by their friends. The winter and spring, as passed by -Lucy at Merle Park, had been very unhappy for her. Things at Merle -Park had not been pleasant to any of the residents there, and Lucy -had certainly had her share of the unpleasantness. Her letters to -Ayala had not been triumphant when Aunt Emmeline had more than once -expressed her wish to be rid of her, and when the news reached her -that Uncle Tom and Hamel had failed to be gracious to each other. -Nor had Ayala written in a spirit of joy before she had been able to -recognise the Angel of Light in Jonathan Stubbs. But now they were to -meet after all their miseries, and each could be triumphant. - -It was hard for them to know exactly how to begin. To Lucy, Isadore -Hamel was, at the present moment, the one hero walking the face of -this sublunary globe; and to Ayala, as we all know, Jonathan Stubbs -was an Angel of Light, and, therefore, more even than a hero. As each -spoke, the "He's" intended took a different personification; so that -to any one less interested than the young ladies themselves there -might be some confusion as to which "He" might at that moment be -under discussion. "It was bad," said Lucy, "when Uncle Tom told him -to sell those magnificent conceptions of his brain by auction!" - -"I did feel for him certainly," said Ayala. - -"And then when he was constrained to say that he would take me at -once without any preparation because Aunt Emmeline wanted me to go, -I don't suppose any man ever behaved more beautifully than he did." - -"Yes indeed," said Ayala. And then she felt herself constrained to -change the subject by the introduction of an exaggerated superlative -in her sister's narrative. Hamel, no doubt, had acted beautifully, -but she was not disposed to agree that nothing could be more -beautiful. "Oh, Lucy," she said, "I was so miserable when he went -away after that walk in the wood. I thought he never would come back -again when I had behaved so badly. But he did. Was not that grand in -him?" - -"I suppose he was very fond of you." - -"I hope he was. I hope he is. But what should I have done if he had -not come back? No other man would have come back after that. You -never behaved unkindly to Isadore?" - -"I think he would have come back a thousand times," said Lucy; "only -I cannot imagine that I should ever have given him the necessity of -coming back even a second. But then I had known him so much longer." - -"It wasn't that I hadn't known him long enough," said Ayala. "I -seemed to know all about him almost all at once. I knew how good he -was, and how grand he was, long before I had left the Marchesa up in -London. But I think it astounded me that such a one as he should care -for me." And so it went on through an entire morning, each of the -sisters feeling that she was bound to listen with rapt attention to -the praises of the other's "him" if she wished to have an opportunity -of singing those of her own. - -But Lucy's marriage was to come first by more than two months, and -therefore in that matter she was allowed precedence. And at her -marriage Ayala would be present, whereas with Ayala's Lucy would -have no personal concern. Though she did think that Uncle Tom had -been worse than any Vandal in that matter of selling her lover's -magnificent works, still she was ready to tell of his generosity. In -a manner of his own he had sent the money which Hamel had so greatly -needed, and had now come forward to provide, with a generous hand, -for the immediate necessities, and more than the necessities, of the -wedding. It was not only that she was to share the honours of the -two wedding-cakes with Gertrude, and that she was to be taken as a -bride from the gorgeous mansion in Queen's Gate, but that he had -provided for her bridal needs almost as fully as for those of his own -daughter. "Never mind what she'll be able to do afterwards," he said -to his wife, who ventured on some slight remonstrance with him as -to the unnecessary luxuries he was preparing for the wife of a poor -man. "She won't be the worse for having a dozen new petticoats in -her trunk, and, if she don't want to blow her nose with as many -handkerchiefs this year as Gertrude does, she'll be able to keep them -for next year." Then Aunt Emmeline obeyed without further hesitation -the orders which were given her. - -Nor was his generosity confined to the niece who for the last twelve -months had been his property. Lucy was still living in Queen's Gate, -though at this time she spent much of each day in Kingsbury Crescent, -and on one occasion she brought with her a little note from Uncle -Tom. "Dear Ayala," said the little note, - - - As you are going to be married too, you, I suppose, will - want some new finery. I therefore send a cheque. Write - your name on the back of it, and give it to your uncle. He - will let you have the money as you want it. - - Yours affectionately, - - T. TRINGLE. - - I hope your Colonel Stubbs will come and see me some day. - - -"You must go and see him," she said to her Colonel Stubbs, when he -called one day in Kingsbury Crescent. "Only for him I shouldn't have -any clothes to speak of at all, and I should have to be married in my -old brown morning frock." - -"It would be just as good as any other for my purpose," said the -Colonel. - -"But it wouldn't for mine, Sir. Fine feathers make fine birds, and -I mean to be as fine as Lady Albury's big peacock. So if you please -you'll go to Queen's Gate, and Lombard Street too, and show yourself. -Oh, Jonathan, I shall be so proud that everybody who knows me should -see what sort of a man has chosen to love me." - -Then there was a joint visit paid by the two sisters to Mr. Hamel's -studio,--an expedition which was made somewhat on the sly. Aunt -Margaret in Kingsbury Crescent knew all about it, but Aunt -Emmeline was kept in the dark. Even now, though the marriage was -sanctioned and was so nearly at hand, Aunt Emmeline would not -have approved of such a visit. She still regarded the sculptor as -improper,--at any rate not sufficiently proper to be treated with -full familiarity,--partly on account of his father's manifest -improprieties, and partly because of his own relative poverty and -unauthorised position in the world. But Aunt Margaret was more -tolerant, and thought that the sister-in-law was entitled to visit -the workshop in which her sister's future bread was to be earned. -And then, starting from Kingsbury Crescent, they could go in a cab; -whereas any such proceeding emanating from Queen's Gate would have -required the carriage. There was a wickedness in this starting off in -a Hansom cab to call on an unmarried young man, doing it in a manner -successfully concealed from Aunt Emmeline, on which Ayala expatiated -with delight when she next saw Colonel Stubbs. - -"You don't come and call on me," said the Colonel. - -"What!--all the way down to Aldershot? I should like, but I don't -quite dare to do that." - -The visit was very successful. Though it was expected, Hamel was -found in his artist's costume, with a blouse or loose linen tunic -fitted close round his throat, and fastened with a belt round his -waist. Lucy thought that in this apparel he was certainly as handsome -as could ever have been any Apollo,--and, so thinking, had contrived -her little plans in such a way that he should certainly be seen at -his best. To her thinking Colonel Stubbs was not a handsome man. -Hamel's hair was nearly black, and she preferred dark hair. Hamel's -features were regular, whereas the Colonel's hair was red, and he was -known for a large mouth and broad nose, which were not obliterated -though they were enlightened by the brightness of his eyes. "Yes," -said Ayala to herself, as she looked at Hamel; "he is very good -looking, but nobody would take him for an Angel of Light." - -"Ayala has come to see you at your work," said Lucy, as they entered -the studio. - -"I am delighted to see her. Do you remember where we last met, Miss -Dormer?" - -"Miss Dormer, indeed," said Ayala. "I am not going to call you Mr. -Hamel. Yes; it was high up among the seats of the Coliseum. There has -a great deal happened to us all since then." - -"And I remember you at the bijou." - -"I should think so. I knew then so well what was going to happen," -said Ayala. - -"What did you know?" - -"That you and Lucy were to fall in love with each other." - -"I had done my part of it already," said he. - -"Hardly that, Isadore," said Lucy, "or you would not have passed me -in Kensington Gardens without speaking to me." - -"But I did speak to you. It was then I learned where to find you." - -"That was the second time. If I had remained away, as I ought to have -done, I suppose you never would have found me." - -Ayala was then taken round to see all those magnificent groups and -figures which Sir Thomas would have disposed of at so many shillings -apiece under the auctioneer's hammer. "It was cruel,--was it not?" -said Lucy. - -"He never saw them, you know," said Ayala, putting in a goodnatured -word for her uncle. - -"If he had," said the sculptor, "he would have doubted the -auctioneer's getting anything. I have turned it all in my mind very -often since, and I think that Sir Thomas was right." - -"I am sure he was wrong," said Lucy. "He is very goodnatured, and -nobody can be more grateful to another person than I am to him;--but -I won't agree that he was right about that." - -"He never would have said it if he had seen them," again pleaded -Ayala. - -"They will never fetch anything as they are," continued the sculptor, -"and I don't suppose that when I made them I thought they would. They -have served their purpose, and I sometimes feel inclined to break -them up and have them carted away." - -"Isadore!" exclaimed Lucy. - -"For what purpose?" asked Ayala. - -"They were the lessons which I had to teach myself, and the play -which I gave to my imagination. Who wants a great figure of Beelzebub -like that in his house?" - -"I call it magnificent," said Ayala. - -"His name is Lucifer,--not Beelzebub," said Lucy. "You call him -Beelzebub merely to make little of him." - -"It is difficult to do that, because he is nearly ten feet high. And -who wants a figure of Bacchus? The thing is, whether, having done -a figure of Bacchus, I may not be better able to do a likeness of -Mr. Jones, when he comes to sit for his bust at the request of his -admiring friends. For any further purpose that it will answer, -Bacchus might just as well be broken up and carted away in the -dust-cart." To this, however, the two girls expressed their vehement -opposition, and were of opinion that the time would come when -Beelzebub and Bacchus, transferred to marble, would occupy places -of honour in some well-proportioned hall built for the purpose of -receiving them. "I shall be quite content," said Hamel, "if the whole -family of the Jones's will have their busts done about the size -of life, and stand them up over their bookshelves. My period for -Beelzebubs has gone by." The visit, on the whole, was delightful. -Lucy was contented with the almost more than divine beauty of her -lover, and the two sisters, as they made their return journey to -Kingsbury Crescent in another Hansom, discussed questions of art in -a spirit that would have been delightful to any aspiring artist who -might have heard them. - -Then came the wedding, of which some details were given at the close -of the last chapter, at which two brides who were very unlike to each -other were joined in matrimony to two bridegrooms as dissimilar. But -the Captain made himself gracious to the sculptor who was now to be -connected with him, and declared that he would always look upon Lucy -as a second sister to his dear Gertrude. And Gertrude was equally -gracious, protesting, when she was marshalled to walk up to the altar -first, that she did not like to go before her darling Lucy. But the -dimensions of the church admitted but of one couple at a time, and -Gertrude was compelled to go in advance. Colonel Stubbs was there -acting as best man to Hamel, while Lord John Battledore performed the -same service for Captain Batsby. Lord John was nearly broken-hearted -by the apostacy of a second chum, having heard that the girl whom -Frank Houston had not succeeded in marrying was now being taken by -Batsby without a shilling. "Somebody had to bottle-hold for him," -said Lord John, defending himself at the club afterwards, "and I -didn't like to throw the fellow over, though he is such a fool! -And there was Stubbs, too," continued his Lordship, "going to take -the other girl without a shilling! There's Stubbs, and Houston, -and Batsby, all gone and drowned themselves. It's just the same as -though they'd drowned themselves!" Lord John was horrified,--nay, -disgusted,--by the folly of the world. Nevertheless, before the end -of the year, he was engaged to marry a very pretty girl as devoid of -fortune as our Ayala. - - - - -CHAPTER LXIV. - -AYALA'S MARRIAGE. - - -Now we have come to our last chapter, and it may be doubted whether -any reader,--unless he be some one specially gifted with a genius -for statistics,--will have perceived how very many people have been -made happy by matrimony. If marriage be the proper ending for a -novel,--the only ending, as this writer takes it to be, which is not -discordant,--surely no tale was ever so properly ended, or with so -full a concord, as this one. Infinite trouble has been taken not only -in arranging these marriages but in joining like to like,--so that, -if not happiness, at any rate sympathetic unhappiness, might be -produced. Our two sisters will, it is trusted, be happy. They have -chosen men from their hearts, and have been chosen after the same -fashion. Those two other sisters have been so wedded that the one -will follow the idiosyncrasies of her husband, and the other bring -her husband to follow her idiosyncrasies, without much danger of -mutiny or revolt. As to Miss Docimer there must be room for fear. It -may be questioned whether she was not worthy of a better lot than -has been achieved for her by joining her fortunes to those of Frank -Houston. But I, speaking for myself, have my hopes of Frank Houston. -It is hard to rescue a man from the slough of luxury and idleness -combined. If anything can do it, it is a cradle filled annually. It -may be that he will yet learn that a broad back with a heavy weight -upon it gives the best chance of happiness here below. Of Lord John's -married prospects I could not say much as he came so very lately on -the scene; but even he may perhaps do something in the world when -he finds that his nursery is filling, For our special friend Tom -Tringle, no wife has been found. In making his effort,--which he -did manfully,--he certainly had not chosen the consort who would be -fit for him. He had not seen clearly, as had done his sisters and -cousins. He had fallen in love too young,--it being the nature of -young men to be much younger than young ladies, and, not knowing -himself, had been as might be a barn-door cock who had set his heart -upon some azure-plumaged, high-soaring lady of the woods. The lady -with the azure plumes had, too, her high-soaring tendencies, but she -was enabled by true insight to find the male who would be fit for -her. The barn-door cock, when we left him on board the steamer going -to New York, had not yet learned the nature of his own requirements. -The knowledge will come to him. There may be doubts as to Frank -Houston, but we think that there need be none as to Tom Tringle. The -proper wife will be forthcoming; and in future years, when he will -probably have a Glenbogie and a Merle Park of his own, he will own -that Fortune did well for him in making his cousin Ayala so stern to -his prayers. - -But Ayala herself,--Ayala our pet heroine,--had not been yet married -when the last chapter was written, and now there remains a page or -two in which the reader must bid adieu to her as she stands at the -altar with her Angel of Light. She was at Stalham for a fortnight -before her marriage, in order, as Lady Albury said, that the buxom -ladysmaid might see that everything had been done rightly in -reference to the trousseau. "My dear," said Lady Albury, "it is -important, you know. I dare say you can bake and brew, because you -say so; but you don't know anything about clothes." Ayala, who by -this time was very intimate with her friend, pouted her lips, and -said that if "Jonathan did not like her things as she chose to have -them he might do the other thing." But Lady Albury had her way, -inducing Sir Harry to add something even to Uncle Tom's liberality, -and the buxom woman went about her task in such a fashion that -if Colonel Stubbs were not satisfied he must have been a very -unconscionable Colonel. He probably would know nothing about -it,--except that his bride in her bridal array had not looked so -well as in any other garments, which, I take it, is invariably the -case,--till at the end of the first year a glimmer of the truth as to -a lady's wardrobe would come upon him. "I told you there would be a -many new dresses before two years were over, Miss," said the buxom -female, as she spread all the frocks and all the worked petticoats -and all the collars and all the silk stockings and all the lace -handkerchiefs about the bedroom to be inspected by Lady Albury, Mrs. -Gosling, and one or two other friends, before they were finally -packed up. - -Then came the day on which the Colonel was to reach Stalham, that day -being a Monday, whereas the wedding was to take place on Wednesday. -It was considered to be within the bounds of propriety that the -Colonel should sleep at Stalham on the Monday, under the same roof -with his bride; but on the Tuesday it was arranged that he should -satisfy the decorous feeling of the neighbourhood by removing himself -to the parsonage, which was distant about half-a-mile across the -park, and was contiguous to the church. Here lived Mr. Greene, the -bachelor curate, the rector of the parish being an invalid and absent -in Italy. - -"I don't see why he is to be sent away after dinner to walk across -the park in the dark," said Ayala, when the matter was discussed -before the Colonel's coming. - -"It is a law, my dear," said Lady Albury, "and has to be obeyed -whether you understand it or not, like other laws. Mr. Greene will be -with him, so that no one shall run away with him in the dark. Then he -will be able to go into church without dirtying his dress boots." - -"But I thought there would be half-a-dozen carriages at least." - -"But there won't be room in one of them for him. He is to be nobody -until he comes forth from the church as your husband. Then he is to -be everybody. That is the very theory of marriage." - - - * * * * * * - - -"I think we managed it all very well between us," said Lady Albury -afterwards, "but you really cannot guess the trouble we took." - -"Why should there have been trouble?" - -"Because you were such a perverse creature, as the old lady said. -I am not sure that you were not right, because a girl does so often -raise herself in her lover's estimation by refusing him half-a-dozen -times. But you were not up to that." - -"Indeed I was not. I am sure I did not intend to give any trouble to -anybody." - -"But you did. Only think of my going up to London to meet him, and of -him coming from Aldershot to meet me, simply that we might put our -heads together how to overcome the perversity of such a young woman -as you!" There then came a look almost of pain on Ayala's brow. "But -I do believe it was for the best. In this way he came to understand -how absolutely necessary you were to him." - -"Am I necessary to him?" - -"He thinks so." - -"Oh, if I can only be necessary to him always! But there should have -been no going up to London. I should have rushed into his arms at -once." - -"That would have been unusual." - -"But so is he unusual," said Ayala. - -It is probable that the Colonel did not enjoy his days at Stalham -before his marriage, except during the hour or two in which he was -allowed to take Ayala out for a last walk. Such days can hardly be -agreeable to the man of whom it is known by all around him that he -is on the eve of committing matrimony. There is always, on such -occasions, a feeling of weakness, as though the man had been subdued, -brought at length into a cage and tamed, so as to be made fit for -domestic purposes, and deprived of his ancient freedom amongst -the woods;--whereas the girl feels herself to be the triumphant -conqueror, who has successfully performed this great act of taming. -Such being the case, the man had perhaps better keep away till he is -forced to appear at the church-door. - -Nevertheless our Colonel did enjoy his last walk. "Oh, yes," she -said, "of course we will go to the old wood. Where else? I am so glad -that poor fox went through Gobblegoose;--otherwise we should never -have gone there, and then who knows whether you and I would ever have -been friends again any more?" - -"If one wood hadn't been there, I think another would have been -found." - -"Ah, that's just it. You can know that you had a purpose, and perhaps -were determined to carry it out." - -"Well, rather." - -"But I couldn't be sure of that. I couldn't carry out my purpose, -even if I had one. I had to doubt, and to be unhappy, and to hate -myself, because I had been perverse. I declare, I do think you men -have so much the best of it. How glorious would it have been to be -able to walk straight up and say, Jonathan Stubbs, I love you better -than all the world. Will you be my husband?" - -"But suppose the Jonathan Stubbs of the occasion were to decline the -honour. Where would you be then?" - -"That would be disagreeable," said Ayala. - -"It is disagreeable,--as you made me feel twice over." - -"Oh, Jonathan, I am so sorry." - -"Therefore it is possible that you may have the best of it." - - - * * * * * * - - -"And so you never will take another walk with Ayala Dormer?" she -said, as they were returning home. - -"Never another," he replied. - -"You cannot think how I regret it. Of course I am glad to become -your wife. I do not at all want to have it postponed. But there is -something so sweet in having a lover;--and you know that though I -shall have a husband I shall never have a lover again,--and I never -had one before, Jonathan. There has been very little of it. When a -thing has been so sweet it is sad to think that it must be gone for -ever!" Then she leaned upon him with both her hands, and looked up -at him and smiled, with her lips a little open,--as she knew that he -liked her to lean upon him and to look,--for she had caught by her -instinct the very nature of the man, and knew how to witch him with -her little charms. "Ah me! I wonder whether you'll like me to lean -upon you when a dozen years have gone by." - -"That depends on how heavy you may be." - -"I shall be a fat old woman, perhaps. But I shall lean upon -you,--always, always. What else shall I ever have to lean upon now?" - -"What else should you want?" - -"Nothing,--nothing,--nothing! I want nothing else. I wonder whether -there is anybody in all the world who has got so completely -everything that she ever dreamed of wanting as I have. But if you -could have been only my lover for a little longer--!" Then he assured -her that he would be her lover just the same, even though they were -husband and wife. Alas, no! There he had promised more than it is -given to a man to perform. Faith, honesty, steadiness of purpose, -joined to the warmest love and the truest heart, will not enable a -husband to maintain the sweetness of that aroma which has filled with -delight the senses of the girl who has leaned upon his arm as her -permitted lover. - -"What a happy fellow you are!" said Mr. Greene, as, in the intimacy -of the moment, they walked across the park together. - -"Why don't you get a wife for yourself?" - -"Yes; with L120 a-year!" - -"With a little money you might." - -"I don't want to have to look for the money; and if I did I shouldn't -get it. I often think how very unfairly things are divided in this -world." - -"That will all be made up in the next." - -"Not if one covets one's neighbour's wife,--or even his ass," said -Mr. Greene. - -On the return of the two lovers to the house from their walk there -were Mr. and Mrs. Dosett, who would much rather have stayed away had -they not been unwilling not to show their mark of affection to their -niece. I doubt whether they were very happy, but they were at any -rate received with every distinction. Sir Thomas and Aunt Emmeline -were asked, but they made some excuse. Sir Thomas knew very well that -he had nothing in common with Sir Harry Albury; and, as for Aunt -Emmeline, her one journey to Stalham had been enough for her. But Sir -Thomas was again very liberal, and sent down as his contribution to -the wedding presents the very necklace which Ayala had refused from -her cousin Tom. "Upon my word, your uncle is magnificent," said Lady -Albury, upon which the whole story was told to her. Lucy and her -husband were away on their tour, as were Gertrude and hers on theirs. -This was rather a comfort, as Captain Batsby's presence at the house -would have been a nuisance. But there was quite enough of guests to -make the wedding, as being a country wedding, very brilliant. Among -others, old Tony Tappett was there, mindful of the manner in which -Cranbury Brook had been ridden, and of Croppy's presence when the -hounds ran their fox into Dillsborough Wood. "I hope she be to ride -with us, off and on, Colonel," said Tony, when the ceremony had been -completed. - -"Now and then, Tony, when we can get hold of Croppy." - -"Because, when they come out like that, Colonel, it's a pity to lose -'em, just because they's got their husbands to attend to." - -And Lord Rufford was there, with his wife, who on this occasion was -very pressing with her invitations. She had heard that Colonel Stubbs -was likely to rise high in his profession, and there were symptoms, -of which she was an excellent judge, that Mrs. Colonel Stubbs would -become known as a professional beauty. And Larry Twentyman was there, -who, being in the neighbourhood, was, to his great delight, invited -to the breakfast. - -Thus, to her own intense satisfaction, Ayala was handed over to her - - ANGEL OF LIGHT. - - - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - - -Transcriber's note: - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Volume II, Chapter XXVII, paragraph 12. Lady Albury's first - name appears eight times in the text. It appears three times as - "Rosaline" (including here) and five times as "Rosalind." Trollope - was not a stickler for consistency, and the two spellings have - been left as they appear in the original text. - - Volume II, Chapter XXXI, paragraph 1. Trollope seems to use - "necklace" and "bracelet" interchangeably in describing Tom's - gift for Ayala. - - Volume II, Chapter XXXVII, paragraph 1. The astute reader will - recall that, in Chapter XXIX, Sir Thomas, after reading Gertrude's - letter, "calmly tore the letter in little bits, and threw them - into the waste-paper basket." Here we discover the letter was - preserved. - - Volume II, Chapter XLII, paragraph 13. Here the mare with the - broken knees is sent at once into Hastings for the doctor. - The reader perhaps recalls that in Chapter XXX, when the mare - fell and cut her knees to the bone while being driven by Mr. - Traffick, Sir Thomas ordered his groom to shoot her. We do - not know whether this is one of Trollope's inconsistencies or - whether the groom merely ignored Sir Thomas' instructions. - - Volume III, Chapter LII, paragraph 17. The astute reader will - remember that the pony ridden by Ayala in the hunt at the start of - Volume II was named "Sprite." Here the pony reappears but with a - different name: "Croppy." - - Specific changes in wording of the text are listed below. - - Volume I, Chapter III, paragraph 43. The word "at" was added to - the sentence: "I don't see it AT all," said Ayala, flashing - round. - - Volume I, Chapter VII, paragraph 57. The word "nothing" was - changed to "anything" in the sentence: If he could only be made - to understand that it could never mean ANYTHING! - - Volume I, Chapter IX, paragraph 12. The word "to" was deleted - from the sentence which in the original was as follows: She has - spoken a word or two to me TO which had been better unsaid, but - I am well convinced that it has come from hot temper and not - from a bad heart. - - Volume I, Chapter XIV, paragraph 2. A comma was added after - the word "carriage" in the sentence: There would be quite - enough for a CARRIAGE, for three months upon a mountain in - Switzerland, and three more among the art treasures of Italy. - - Volume I, Chapter XV, paragraph 42. The word "I" was changed to - "to" in the sentence: I don't know what TO say, but I can't. - - Volume II, Chapter XXIII, paragraph 47. The word "were" was - changed to "where" in the sentence: Captain Batsby and three - other gentlemen were put inside, WHERE they consoled themselves - with unlimited tobacco. - - Volume II, Chapter XXVII, paragraph 4. "Albury" was changed to - "Stalham" in the heading of the letter: STALHAM, Monday, 18th - November, 18--. - - Volume III, Chapter LII, paragraph 1. A question mark was - changed to a full stop at the end of the sentence: If he ever - did come again it should not be because she had asked for his - coming. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AYALA'S ANGEL*** - - -******* This file should be named 33500.txt or 33500.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/3/5/0/33500 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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