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+Project Gutenberg's Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by Charles James Lever
+
+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: Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I.
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: E. J. Wheeler
+
+Release Date: February 16, 2011 [EBook #35296]
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE, VOLUME I. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE
+
+Volume I.
+
+By Charles James Lever,
+
+With Illustrations By E. J. Wheeler
+
+Boston:
+
+Little, Brown, And Company.
+
+1917.
+
+
+To PHILIP ROSE, Esq.
+
+My dear Rose,--You have often stopped me when endeavouring to express
+all the gratitude I felt towards you. You cannot do so now, nor prevent
+my telling aloud how much I owe-how much I esteem you. These volumes
+were not without interest for me as I wrote them, but they yielded me
+no such pleasure as I now feel in dedicating them to you; and, with this
+assurance, believe me,
+
+Your affectionate Friend,
+
+CHARLES LEVER.
+
+Spezia, October 20. 1866.
+
+
+
+
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. AFTER MESS
+
+The mess was over, and the officers of H. M.'s --th were grouped in
+little knots and parties, sipping their coffee, and discussing the
+arrangements for the evening. Their quarter was that pleasant city
+of Dublin, which, bating certain exorbitant demands in the matter of
+field-day and guard-mounting, stands pre-eminently first in military
+favor.
+
+“Are you going to that great ball in Merrion Square?” asked one., “Not
+so lucky; not invited.”
+
+“I got a card,” cried a third; “but I 've just heard it's not to come
+off. It seems that the lady's husband is a judge. He's Chief something
+or other; and he has been called away.”
+
+“Nothing of the kind, Tomkins; unless you call a summons to the next
+world being called away. The man is dangerously ill. He was seized with
+paralysis on the Bench yesterday, and, they say, can't recover.”
+
+There now ensued an animated conversation as to whether, on death
+vacancies, the men went up by seniority at the bar, or whether a
+subaltern could at once spring up to the top of the regiment.
+
+“Suppose,” said one, “we were to ask the Colonel's guest his opinion.
+The old cove has talked pretty nigh of everything in this world during
+dinner; what if we were to ask him about Barons of the Exchequer?”
+
+“Who is he? what is he?” asked another.
+
+“The Colonel called him Sir Brook Fossbrooke; that's all I know.”
+
+“Colonel Cave told me,” whispered the Major, “that he was the fastest
+man on town some forty years ago.”
+
+“I think he must have kept over the wardrobe of that brilliant period,”
+ said another. “I never saw a really swallow-tailed coat before.”
+
+“His ring amused _me_. It is a small smoothing-iron, with a coat-of-arms
+on it. Hush! here he comes.”
+
+The man who now joined the group was a tall, gaunt figure, with a high
+narrow head, from which the hair was brushed rigidly back to fall behind
+in something like an old-fashioned queue. His eyes were black, and
+surmounted with massive and much-arched eyebrows; a strongly marked
+mouth, stern, determined, and, except in speaking, almost cruel in
+expression, and a thin-pointed projecting chin, gave an air of severity
+and strong will to features which, when he conversed, displayed a look
+of courteous deference, and that peculiar desire to please that we
+associate with a bygone school of breeding. He was one of those men,
+and very distinctive are they, with whom even the least cautious take
+no liberties, nor venture upon any familiarity. The eccentricities of
+determined men are very often indications of some deep spirit beneath,
+and not, as in weaker natures, mere emanations of vanity or offsprings
+of self-indulgence.
+
+If he was, beyond question, a gentleman, there were also signs about him
+of narrow fortune: his scrupulously white shirt was not fine, and the
+seams of his well-brushed coat showed both care and wear.
+
+He had joined the group, who were talking of the coming Derby when the
+Colonel came up. “I have sent for the man we want, Fossbrooke. I'm not
+a fisherman myself; but they tell me he knows every lake, river, and
+rivulet in the island. He has sat down to whist, but we 'll have him
+here presently.”
+
+“On no account; don't disturb his game for me.”
+
+“Here he comes. Trafford, I want to present you to a very old friend of
+mine, Sir Brook Fossbrooke,--as enthusiastic an angler as yourself. He
+has the ambition to hook an Irish salmon. I don't suppose any one can
+more readily help him on the road to it.”
+
+The young man thus addressed was a large, strongly, almost heavily built
+young fellow, but with that looseness of limb and freedom that showed
+activity had not been sacrificed to mere power. He had a fine, frank,
+handsome face, blue-eyed and bold-looking; and as he stood to receive
+the Colonel's orders, there was in his air that blending of deference
+and good-humored carelessness that made up his whole nature.
+
+It was plain to see in him one easy to persuade, impossible to coerce;
+a fellow with whom the man he liked could do anything, bat one perfectly
+unmanageable if thrown into the wrong hands. He was the second son of
+a very rich baronet, but made the mistake of believing he had as much
+right to extravagance as his elder brother, and, having persisted in
+this error during two years in the Life Guards, had been sent to do
+the double penance of an infantry regiment and an Irish station; two
+inflictions which, it was believed, would have sufficed to calm down the
+ardor of the most impassioned spendthrift. He looked at Fossbrooke from
+head to foot. It was not exactly the stamp of man he would have selected
+for companionship, but he saw at once that he was distinctively a
+gentleman, and then the prospect of a few days away from regimental
+duty was not to be despised, and he quickly replied that both he and his
+tackle were at Sir Brook's disposal. “If we could run down to Killaloe,
+sir,” added he, turning to the Colonel, “we might be almost sure of some
+sport.”
+
+“Which means that you want two days' leave, Trafford.”
+
+“No, sir, four. It will take a day at least to get over there; another
+will be lost in exploring; all these late rains have sent such a fresh
+into the Shannon there's no knowing where to try.”
+
+“You see, Fossbrooke, what a casuistical companion I've given you. I 'll
+wager you a five-pound note that if you come back without a rise he 'll
+have an explanation that will perfectly explain it was the best thing
+could have happened.”
+
+“I am charmed to travel in such company,” said Sir Brook, bowing. “The
+gentleman has already established a claim to my respect for him.”
+
+Trafford bowed too, and looked not at all displeased at the compliment.
+“Are you an early riser, sir?” asked he.
+
+“I am anything, sir, the occasion exacts; but when I have an early start
+before me, I usually sit up all night.”
+
+“My own plan too,” cried Trafford. “And there's Aubrey quite ready to
+join us. Are you a whister, Sir Brook?”
+
+“At your service. I play all games.”
+
+“Is he a whister?” repeated the Colonel. “Ask Harry Greville, ask Tom
+Newenham, what they say of him at Grahams? Trafford, my boy, you may
+possibly give him a hint about gray hackles, but I 'll be shot if you do
+about the odd trick.”
+
+“If you 'll come over to my room, Sir Brook, we 'll have a rubber, and
+I 'll give orders to have my tax-cart ready for us by daybreak,” said
+Trafford; and, Fossbrooke promising to be with him so soon as he had
+given his servant his orders, they parted.
+
+“And are you as equal to this sitting up all night as you used to be,
+Fossbrooke?” asked the Colonel.
+
+“I don't smoke as many cigars as formerly, and I am a little more choice
+about my tobacco. I avoid mulled port, and take weak brandy-and-water;
+and I believe in all other respects I 'm pretty much where I was when we
+met last,--I think it was at Ceylon?”
+
+“I wish I could say as much for myself. You are talking of thirty-four
+years ago.”
+
+“My secret against growing old is to do a little of everything. It keeps
+the sympathies wider, makes a man more accessible to other men, and
+keeps him from dwelling too much on himself. But tell me about my young
+companion; is he one of Sir Hugh's family?”
+
+“His second son; not unlike to be his eldest, for George has gone to
+Madeira with very little prospect of recovery. This is a fine lad; a
+little wild, a little careless of money, but the very soul of honor and
+right-mindedness. They sent him to me as a sort of incurable, but I have
+nothing but good to say of him.”
+
+“There 'a great promise in a fellow when he can be a scamp and a man of
+honor. When dissipations do not degrade and excesses do not corrupt a
+man, there is a grand nature ever beneath.”
+
+“Don't tell him that, Fossbrooke,” said the Colonel, laughing.
+
+“I am not likely to do so,” said he, with a grim smile. “I am glad, too,
+to meet his father's son; we were at Christ Church together; and now I
+see he has the family good looks. 'Le beau Trafford' was a proverb in
+Paris once.”
+
+“Do you ever forget a man?” asked the Colonel, in some curiosity.
+
+“I believe not. I forget books, places, dates occasionally, but never
+people. I met an old schoolfellow t'other day at Dover whom I never saw
+since we were boys. He had gone down in the world, and was acting as
+one of the 'commissionnaires' they call them, who take your keys to the
+Custom-house to have your luggage examined; and when he came to ask me
+to employ him, I said, “'What! ain't you Jemmy Harper?' 'And who the
+devil are you?' said he. 'Fossbrooke,' said I. 'Not “Wart”?' said he.
+That was my school nickname, from a wart I once had on my chin. 'Ay, to
+be sure,' said I, 'Wart.' I wish you saw the delight of the old dog. I
+made him dine with us. Lord Brackington was with me, and enjoyed it all
+immensely.”
+
+“And what had brought him so low?”
+
+“He was cursed, he said, with a strong constitution; all the other
+fellows of his set had so timed it that when they had nothing to live on
+they ceased to live; but Jemmy told us he never had such an appetite as
+now; that he passed from fourteen to sixteen hours a day on the pier
+in all weathers; and as to gout he firmly believed it all came of the
+adulterated wines of the great wine-merchants. British gin he maintained
+to be the wholesomest liquor in existence.”
+
+“I wonder how fellows bear up under such reverses as that,” said the
+Colonel.
+
+“My astonishment is rather,” cried Fossbrooke, “how men can live on in
+a monotony of well-being, getting fatter, older, and more unwieldy, and
+with only such experiences of life as a well-fed fowl might have in a
+hencoop.”
+
+“I know that's _your_ theory,” said the other, laughing.
+
+“Well, no man can say that I have not lived up to my convictions; and
+for myself, I can aver I have thoroughly enjoyed my intercourse with the
+world, and like it as well to-day as on the first morning I made my bow
+to it.”
+
+“Listen to this, young gentlemen,” said the Colonel, turning to his
+officers, who now gathered around them. “Now and then I hear some of
+you complaining of being bored or wearied,--sick of this, tired of that;
+here's my friend, who knows the whole thing better than any of us, and
+he declares that the world is the best of all possible worlds, and
+that so far from familiarity with it inspiring disgust with life, his
+enjoyment of it is as racy as when first he knew it.”
+
+“It is rather hard to ask these gentlemen to take me as a guide on
+trust,” said Fossbrooke; “but I have known the fathers of most of those
+I see around me, and could call many of them as witnesses to character.
+Major Aylmer, your father and I went up the Nile together, when people
+talked of it as a journey. Captain Harris, I 'm sure I am not wrong in
+saying you are the son of Godfrey Harris, of Harrisburg. Your father
+was my friend on the day I wounded Lord Ecclesmore. I see four or five
+others too,--so like old companions that I find it hard to believe I am
+not back again in the old days when I was as young as themselves; and
+yet I 'm not very certain if I would like to exchange my present quiet
+enjoyment as a looker-on for all that active share I once took in life
+and its pleasures.”
+
+Something in the fact that their fathers had lived in his intimacy,
+something in his manner,--a very courteous manner it was,--and something
+in the bold, almost defiant bearing of the old man, vouching for great
+energy and dignity together, won greatly upon the young men, and they
+gathered around him. He was, however, summoned away by a message from
+Trafford to say that the whist-party waited for him, and he took his
+leave with a stately courtesy and withdrew.
+
+“There goes one of the strangest fellows in Christendom,” said the
+Colonel, as the other left the room. “He has already gone through three
+fortunes; he dissipated the first, speculated and lost the second,
+and the third he, I might say, gave away in acts of benevolence and
+kindness,--leaving himself so ill off that I actually heard the other
+day that some friend had asked for the place of barrack-master at
+Athlone for him; but on coming over to see the place, he found a poor
+fellow with a wife and five children a candidate for it; so he retired
+in his favor, and is content, as you see, to go out on the world, and
+take his chance with it.”
+
+Innumerable questions pressed on the Colonel to tell more of his strange
+friend; he had, however, little beyond hearsay to give them. Of his
+own experiences, he could only say that when first he met him it was
+at Ceylon, where he had come in a yacht like a sloop of war to hunt
+elephants,--the splendor of his retinue and magnificence of his suite
+giving him the air of a royal personage,--and indeed the gorgeous
+profusion of his presents to the King and the chief personages of the
+court went far to impress this notion. “I never met him since,” said
+the Colonel, “till this morning, when he walked into my room, dusty and
+travel-stained, to say, 'I just heard your name, and thought I 'd ask
+you to give me my dinner to-day.' I owe him a great many,--not to say
+innumerable other attentions; and his last act on leaving Trincomalee
+was to present me with an Arab charger, the most perfect animal I ever
+mounted. It is therefore a real pleasure to me to receive him. He is a
+thoroughly fine-hearted fellow, and, with all his eccentricities, one of
+the noblest natures I ever met. The only flaw in his frankness is as
+to his age; nobody has ever been able to get it from him. You heard him
+talk of your fathers,--he might talk of your grandfathers; and he would,
+too, if we had only the opportunity to lead him on to it. I know of my
+own knowledge that he lived in the Carlton House coterie, not a man of
+which except himself survives, and I have heard him give imitations of
+Burke, Sheridan, Gavin Hamilton, and Pitt, that none but one who had
+seen them could have accomplished. And now that I have told you all
+this, will one of you step over to Trafford's rooms, and whisper him
+a hint to make his whist-points as low as he can; and, what is even
+of more importance, to take care lest any strange story Sir Brook may
+tell--and he is full of them--meet a sign of incredulity, still less
+provoke any quizzing? The slightest shade of such a provocation would
+render him like a madman.”
+
+The Major volunteered to go on this mission, which indeed any of the
+others would as willingly have accepted, for the old man had interested
+them deeply, and they longed to hear more about him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE SWAN'S NEST
+
+As the Shannon draws near Killaloe, the wild character of the mountain
+scenery, the dreary wastes and desolate islands which marked Lough
+Derg, disappear, and give way to gently sloping lawns, dotted over with
+well-grown timber, well-kept demesnes, spacious country-houses, and
+a country which, in general, almost recalls the wealth and comfort of
+England.
+
+About a mile above the town, in a little bend of the river forming a
+small bay, stands a small but pretty house, with a skirt of rich wood
+projecting at the back, while the lawn in front descends by an easy
+slope to the river.
+
+Originally a mere farmhouse, the taste of an ingenious owner had
+taken every advantage of its irregular outline, and converted it into
+something Elizabethan in character, a style admirably adapted to the
+site, where all the features of rich-colored landscape abounded, and
+where varied foliage, heathy mountain, and eddying river, all lent
+themselves to make up a scene of fresh and joyous beauty.
+
+In the marvellous fertility of the soil, too, was found an ally to every
+prospect of embellishment. Sheltered from north and east winds, plants
+grew here in the open air, which in less favored spots needed the
+protection of the conservatory; and thus in the neatly shaven lawn were
+seen groups of blossoming shrubs or flowers of rare excellence, and the
+camellia and the salvia and the oleander blended with the tulip, the
+moss-rose, and the carnation, to stud the grass with their gorgeous
+colors.
+
+Over the front of the cottage, for cottage it really was, a South
+American creeper, a sort of acanthus, grew, its crimson flowers hanging
+in rich profusion over cornice and architrave; while a passion-tree of
+great age covered the entire porch, relieving with its softened tints
+the almost over-brilliancy of the southern plant.
+
+Seen from the water,--and it came suddenly into view on rounding a
+little headland,--few could forbear from an exclamation of wonder and
+admiration at this lovely spot; nor could all the pretentious grandeur
+of the rich-wooded parks, nor all the more imposing architecture of the
+great houses, detract from the marvellous charm of this simple home.
+
+A tradition of a swan carried away by some rising of the river from the
+Castle of Portumna, and swept down the lake till it found refuge in the
+little bay, had given the name to the place, and for more than a hundred
+years was it known as the Swan's Nest. The Swan, however, no longer
+existed, though a little thatched edifice at the water-side marked the
+spot it had once inhabited, and sustained the truth of the legend.
+
+The owner of the place was a Dr. Lendrick: he had come to it about
+twenty years before the time at which our story opens,--a widower with
+two children, a son and a daughter. He was a perfect stranger to all the
+neighborhood, though by name well known as the son of a distinguished
+judge, Baron Lendrick of the Court of Exchequer.
+
+It was rumored about, that, having displeased his father, first by
+adopting medicine instead of law as his profession, and subsequently by
+marrying a portionless girl of humble family, the Baron had ceased to
+recognize him in any way. Making a settlement of a few hundreds a year
+on him, he resolved to leave the bulk of his fortune to a step-son, the
+child of his second wife, a Colonel Sewell, then in India.
+
+It was with no thought of practising his profession that Dr. Lendrick
+had settled in the neighborhood; but as he was always ready to assist
+the poor by his advice and skill, and as the reputation of his great
+ability gradually got currency, he found himself constrained to yield
+to the insistence of his neighbors, and consent to practise generally.
+There were many things which made this course unpalatable to him. He was
+by nature shy, timid, and retiring; he was fastidiously averse to a new
+acquaintanceship; he had desired, besides, to live estranged from the
+world, devoting himself entirely to the education of his children; and
+he neither liked the forced publicity he became exposed to, nor that
+life of servitude which leaves the doctor at the hourly mercy of the
+world around him.
+
+If he yielded, therefore, to the professional calls upon him, he
+resisted totally all social claims: he went nowhere but as the doctor.
+
+No persuasion, no inducement, could prevail on him to dine out; no
+exigency of time or season prevent him returning to his home at night.
+There were in his neighborhood one or two persons whose rank might have,
+it was supposed, influenced him in some degree to comply with their
+requests,--and, certainly, whose desire for his society would have
+left nothing undone to secure it; but he was as obdurate to them as
+to others, and the Earl of Drum-carran and Sir Reginald Lacy, of Lacy
+Manor, were not a whit more successful in their blandishments than the
+Vicar of Killaloe--old Bob Mills, as he was irreverently called--or
+Lendrick's own colleague, Dr. Tobin, who, while he respected his
+superior ability and admitted his knowledge, secretly hated him as only
+a rival doctor knows how to hate a brother practitioner.
+
+For the first time for many years had Dr. Lendrick gone up to Dublin.
+A few lines from an old family physician, Dr. Beattie, had, however,
+called him up to town. The Chief Baron had been taken ill in Court, and
+was conveyed home in a state of insensibility. It was declared that he
+had rallied and passed a favorable night; but as he was a man of very
+advanced age, at no time strong, and ever unsparing of himself in the
+arduous labors of his office, grave doubts were felt that he would
+ever again resume his seat on the Bench. Dr. Beattie well knew the long
+estrangement that had separated the father from the son; and although,
+perhaps, the most intimate friend the Judge had in the world, he never
+had dared to interpose a word or drop a hint as to the advisability of
+reconciliation.
+
+Sir William Lendrick was, indeed, a man whom no amount of intimacy could
+render his friends familiar with. He was positively charming to mere
+acquaintanceship,--his manner was a happy blending of deference with
+a most polished wit Full of bygone experiences and reminiscences of
+interesting people and events, he never overlaid conversation by their
+mention, but made them merely serve to illustrate the present, either
+by contrast or resemblance. All this to the world and society was he; to
+the inmates of his house he was a perfect terror! It was said his first
+wife had died of a broken heart; his second, with a spirit fierce and
+combative as his own, had quarrelled with him so often, so seriously,
+and so hopelessly, that for the last fifteen years of life they had
+occupied separate houses, and only met as acquaintances, accepting
+and sending invitations to each other, and outwardly observing all the
+usages of a refined courtesy.
+
+This was the man of whom Dr. Beattie wrote: “I cannot presume to say
+that he is _more_ favorably disposed towards you than he has shown
+himself for years, but I would strenuously advise your being here, and
+sufficiently near, so that if a happier disposition should occur, or an
+opportunity arise to bring you once more together, the fortunate moment
+should not be lost. Come up, then, at once, come to my house, where
+your room is ready for you, and where you will neither be molested by
+visitors nor interfered with. Manage too, if you can, to remain here for
+some days.”
+
+It is no small tribute to the character of filial affection when one can
+say, and say truthfully, that scarcely any severity on a parent's part
+effaces the love that was imbibed in infancy, and that struck root in
+the heart before it could know what unkindness was! Over and over again
+in life have I witnessed this deep devotion. Over and over again have I
+seen a clinging affection to a memory which nothing short of a hallowed
+tie could have made so dear,--a memory that retained whatever could
+comfort and sustain, and held nothing that recalled shame or sorrow.
+
+Dr. Lendrick went up to town full of such emotions. All the wrong--it
+was heavy wrong too--he had suffered was forgotten, all the Injustice
+wiped out. He only asked to be permitted to see his father,--to nurse
+and watch by him. There was no thought for himself. By reconciliation
+he never meant restoration to his place as heir. Forgiveness and love he
+asked for,--to be taken back to the heart so long closed against him, to
+hear himself called Tom by that voice he knew so well, and whose accents
+sounded through his dreams.
+
+That he was not without a hope of such happiness, might be gathered from
+one circumstance. He had taken up with him two miniatures of his boy and
+girl to show “Grandfather,” if good fortune should ever offer a fitting
+moment.
+
+The first words which greeted him on reaching his friend's house were:
+“Better. A tolerably tranquil night. He can move his hand. The attack
+was paralysis, and his speech is also improved.”
+
+“And his mind? how is his mind?”
+
+“Clear as ever it was,--intensely eager to hear what is said about his
+illness, and insatiable as to the newspaper versions of the attack.”
+
+“Does he speak? Has he spoken of--his family at all?” said he,
+falteringly.
+
+“Only of Lady Lendrick. He desired to see her. He dictated a note to
+me, in terms of very finished courtesy, asking her if, without incurring
+inconvenience, she would favor him with an early call. The whole thing
+was so like himself that I saw at once he was getting better.”
+
+“And so you think him better?” asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+
+“Better! Yes--but not out of danger. I fear as much from his
+irritability as his malady. He will insist on seeing the newspapers, and
+occasionally his eye falls on some paragraph that wounds him. It was but
+yesterday that he read a sort of querulous regret from some writer that
+'the learned Judge had not retired some years ago, and before failing
+health, acting on a very irascible temperament, had rendered him a
+terror alike to the bar and the suitors.' That unfortunate paragraph
+cost twenty leeches and ice to his temples for eight hours after.”
+
+“Cannot these things be kept from him? Surely your authority ought to be
+equal to this!”
+
+“Were I to attempt it, he would refuse to see me. In fact, any utility
+I can contribute depends on my apparent submission to him in everything.
+Almost his first question to me every morning is, 'Well, sir, who is to
+be my successor?' Of course I say that we all look with a sanguine hope
+to see him soon back in his court again. When I said this yesterday, he
+replied, 'I will sit on Wednesday, sir, to hear appeals; there will be
+little occasion for me to speak, and I trust another day or two will see
+the last of this difficulty of utterance. Pemberton, I know, is looking
+to the Attorney-Generalship, and George Hayes thinks he may order his
+ermine. Tell them, however, from me, that the Chief Baron intends to
+preside in his court for many a year to come; that the intellect, such
+as it is, with which Providence endowed him, is still unchanged and
+unclouded.' This is his language,--this his tone; and you may know
+how such a spirit jars with all our endeavors to promote rest and
+tranquillity.”
+
+Lendrick walked moodily up and down the room, his head sunk, and his
+eyes downcast. “Never to speak of me,--never ask to see me,” muttered
+he, in a voice of intense sadness.
+
+“I half suspected at one time he was about to do so, and indeed he said,
+'If this attack should baffle you, Beattie, you must not omit to give
+timely warning. There are two or three things to be thought of.' When I
+came away on that morning, I sat down and wrote to you to come up here.”
+
+A servant entered at this moment and presented a note to the doctor, who
+read it hastily and handed it to Lendrick. It ran thus:--
+
+“Dear Dr. Beattie,--The Chief Baron has had an unfavorable turn, partly
+brought on by excitement. Lose no time in coming here; and believe me,
+yours sincerely,
+
+“CONSTANTIA LENDRICK.”
+
+“They've had a quarrel; I knew they would. I did my best to prevent
+their meeting; but I saw he would not go out of the world without a
+scene. As he said last night, 'I mean her to hear my “charge.” She must
+listen to my charge, Beattie;' and I 'd not be astonished if this charge
+were to prove his own sentence.”
+
+“Go to him at once, Beattie; and if it be at all possible, if you can
+compass it in any way, let me see him once again. Take these with you;
+who knows but their bright faces may plead better than words for us?”
+ and thus saying, he gave him the miniatuies; and overcome with emotion
+he could not control, turned away and left the room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. A DIFFICULT PATIENT
+
+As Dr. Beattie drove off with all speed to the Chief Baron's house,
+which lay about three miles from the city, he had time to ponder as he
+went over his late interview. “Tom Lendrick,” as he still called him
+to himself, he had known as a boy, and ever liked him. He had been a
+patient, studious, gentle-tempered lad, desirous to acquire knowledge,
+without any of that ambition that wants to make the knowledge
+marketable. To have gained a professorship would have appeared to have
+been the very summit of his ambition, and this rather as a quiet retreat
+to pursue his studies further than as a sphere wherein to display his
+own gifts. Anything more unlike that bustling, energetic, daring spirit,
+his father, would be hard to conceive. Throughout his whole career
+at the bar, and in Parliament, men were never quite sure what that
+brilliant speaker and most indiscreet talker would do next. Men secured
+his advocacy with a half misgiving whether they were doing the very best
+or the very worst for success. Give him difficulties to deal with, and
+he was a giant; let all go smoothly and well, and he would hunt up
+some crotchet,--some obsolete usage,--a doubtful point, that in its
+discussion very frequently led to the damage of his client's cause, and
+the defeat of his suit.
+
+Display was ever more to him than victory. Let him have a great arena
+to exhibit in, and he was proof against all the difficulties and all
+the casualties of the conflict. Never had such a father a son less the
+inheritor of his temperament and nature; and this same disappointment
+rankling on through life--a disappointment that embittered all
+intercourse, and went so far as to make him disparage the high abilities
+of his son--created a gulf between them that Beattie knew could never
+be bridged over. He doubted, too, whether as a doctor he could
+conscientiously introduce a theme so likely to irritate and excite. As
+he pondered, he opened the two miniatures, and looked at them. The young
+man was a fine, manly, daring-looking fellow, with a determined brow and
+a resolute mouth, that recalled his grandfather's face; he was evidently
+well grown and strong, and looked one that, thrown where he might be in
+life, would be likely to assert his own.
+
+The girl, wonderfully like him in feature, had a character of subdued
+humor in her eye, and a half-hid laughter in the mouth, which the artist
+had caught up with infinite skill, that took away all the severity of
+the face, and softened its traits to a most attractive beauty. Through
+her rich brown hair there was a sort of golden _reflet_ that imparted
+great brilliancy to the expression of the head, and her large eyes of
+gray-blue were the image of candor and softness, till her laugh gave
+them a sparkle of drollery whose sympathy there was no resisting. She,
+too, was tall and beautifully formed, with that slimness of early youth
+that only escapes being angular, but has in it the charm of suppleness
+that lends grace to every action and every gesture.
+
+“I wish he could see the originals,” muttered Beattie. “If the old man,
+with his love of beauty, but saw that girl, it would be worth all the
+arguments in Christendom. Is it too late for this? Have we time for the
+experiment?”
+
+Thus thinking, he drove along the well-wooded approach, and gained the
+large ground-space before the door, whence a carriage was about to drive
+away. “Oh, doctor,” cried a voice, “I'm so glad you 're come; they are
+most impatient for you.” It was the Solicitor-General, Mr. Pemberton,
+who now came up to the window of Beattie's carriage.
+
+“He has become quite unmanageable, will not admit a word of counsel or
+advice, resists all interference, and insists on going out for a drive.”
+
+“I see him at the window,” said Beattie; “he is beckoning to me;
+good-bye,” and he passed on and entered the house.
+
+In the chief drawing-room, in a deep recess of a window, sat the Chief
+Baron, dressed as if to go out, with an overcoat and even his gloves
+on. “Come and drive with me, Beattie,” cried he, in a feeble but harsh
+voice. “If I take my man Leonard, they 'll say it was a keeper. You know
+that the 'Post' has it this morning that it is my mind which has given
+way. They say they 've seen me breaking for years back. Good heavens!
+can it be possible, think you, that the mites in a cheese speculate over
+the nature of the man that eats them? You stopped to talk with Pemberton
+I saw; what did he say to you?”
+
+“Nothing particular,--a mere greeting, I think.”
+
+“No, sir, it was not; he was asking you how many hours there lay between
+him and the Attorney-Generalship. They 've divided the carcase already.
+The lion has to assist at his autopsy,--rather hard, is n't it? How it
+embitters death, to think of the fellows who are to replace us!”
+
+“Let me feel your pulse.”
+
+“Don't trust it, Beattie; that little dialogue of yours on the grass
+plot has sent it up thirty beats; how many is it?”
+
+“Rapid,--very rapid; you need rest,--tranquillity.”
+
+“And you can't give me either, sir; neither you nor your craft. You are
+the Augurs of modern civilization, and we cling to your predictions just
+as our forefathers did, though we never believe you.”
+
+“This is not flattery,” said Beattie, with a slight smile.
+
+The old man closed his eyes, and passed his hand slowly over his
+forehead. “I suppose I was dreaming, Beattie, just before you came up;
+but I thought I saw them all in the Hall, talking and laughing over
+my death. Burrowes was telling how old I must be, because I moved the
+amendment to Flood in the Irish Parliament in '97; and Eames mentioned
+that I was Curran's junior in the great Bagenal record; and old Tysdal
+set them all in a roar by saying he had a vision of me standing at
+the gate of heaven, and instead of going in, as St. Peter invited me,
+stoutly refusing, and declaring I would move for a new trial! How like
+the rascals!”
+
+“Don't you think you'd be better in your own room? There's too much
+light and glare here.”
+
+“Do you think so?”
+
+“I am sure of it. You need quiet, and the absence of all that stimulates
+the action of the brain.”
+
+“And what do _you_, sir,--what does any one,--know about the brain's
+operations? You doctors have invented a sort of conventional cerebral
+organ, which, like lunar caustic, is decomposed by light; and in your
+vulgar materialism you would make out that what affects _your_ brain
+must act alike upon _mine_. I tell you, sir, it is darkness--obscurity,
+physical or moral, it matters not which--that irritates _me_, just as I
+feel provoked this moment by this muddling talk of yours about brain.”
+
+“And yet I 'm talking about what my daily life and habits suggest _some_
+knowledge of,” said Beattie, mildly.
+
+“So you are, sir, and the presumption is all on my side. If you'll
+kindly lend me your arm, I'll go back to my room.”
+
+Step by step, slowly and painfully, he returned to his chamber, not
+uttering a word as he went.
+
+“Yes, this is better, doctor; this half light soothes; it is much
+pleasanter. One more kindness. I wrote to Lady Lendrick this morning to
+come up here. I suppose my combative spirit was high in me, and I wanted
+a round with the gloves,--or, indeed, without them; at all events, I
+sent the challenge. But _now_, doctor, I have to own myself a craven. I
+dread the visit Could you manage to interpose? Could you suggest that
+it is by your order I am not permitted to receive her? Could you
+hint”--here he smiled half maliciously--“that you do not think the time
+has come for anodynes,--eh, doctor?”
+
+“Leave it to me. I 'll speak to Lady Lendrick.”
+
+“There 's another thing: not that it much matters; but it might perhaps
+be as well to send a few lines to the morning papers, to say the
+accounts of the Chief Baron are more favorable to-day; he passed a
+tranquil night, and so on. Pemberton won't like it, nor Hayes; but
+it will calm the fears of a very attached friend who calls here twice
+daily. You'd never guess him. He is the agent of the Globe Office, where
+I 'm insured. Ah, doctor, it was a bright thought of Philanthropy
+to establish an industrial enterprise that is bound, under heavy
+recognizances, to be grieved at our death.”
+
+“I must not make you talk, Sir William. I must not encourage you
+to exert yourself. I 'll say good-bye, and look in upon you this
+afternoon.”
+
+“Am I to have a book? Well; be it so. I I 'll sit and muse over the
+Attorney-General and his hopes.”
+
+“I have got two very interesting miniatures here. I 'll leave them with
+you; you might like to look at them.”
+
+“Miniatures! whose portraits are they?” asked the other, hastily, as he
+almost snatched them from his hand. “What a miserable juggler! what a
+stale trick this!” said he, as he opened the case which contained the
+young man's picture. “So, sir, you lend yourself to such attempts as
+these.”
+
+“I don't understand you,” said Beattie, indignantly.
+
+“Yes, sir, you understand me perfectly. You would do, by a piece of
+legerdemain, what you have not the courage to attempt openly. These are
+Tom Lendrick's children.”
+
+“They are.”
+
+“And this simpering young lady is her mother's image; pretty, pretty, no
+doubt; and a little--a shade, perhaps--of _espièglerie_ above what her
+mother possessed. She was the silliest woman that ever turned a fool's
+head. She had the ineffable folly, sir, to believe she could persuade
+me to forgive my son for having married her; and when I handed her to a
+seat,--for she was at my knees,--she fainted.”
+
+“Well. It is time to forgive him now. As for her, she is beyond
+forgiveness, or favor, either,” said Beattie, with more energy than
+before.
+
+“There is no such trial to a man in a high calling as the temptation
+it offers him to step beyond it. Take care, sir, that with all your
+acknowledged ability, this temptation be not too much for you.” The tone
+and manner in which the old judge delivered these words recalled the
+justice-seat. “It is an honor to me to have you as my doctor, sir.
+It would be to disparage my own intelligence to accept you as my
+confessor.”
+
+“A doctor but discharges half his trust when he fails to warn his
+patient against the effects of irritability.”
+
+“The man who would presume to minister to my temper or to my nature
+should be no longer medico of mine. With what intention, sir, did you
+bring me these miniatures?”
+
+“That you might see two bright and beautiful faces whose owners are
+bound to you by the strongest ties of blood.”
+
+“Do you know, sir,--have you ever heard,--how their father, by his
+wilfulness, by his folly, by his heartless denial of my right to
+influence him, ruined the fortune that cost my life of struggle and
+labor to create?”
+
+The doctor shook his head, and the other continued: “Then I will tell
+it to you, sir. It is more than seventeen years to-day when the then
+Viceroy sent for me, and said, 'Baron Lendrick, there is no man, after
+Plunkett, to whom we owe more than to yourself.' I bowed, and said,
+'I do not accept the qualification, my Lord, even in favor of the
+distinguished Chancellor. I will not believe myself second to any.' I
+need not relate what ensued; the discussion was a long one,--it was also
+a warm one; but he came back at last to the object of the interview,
+which was to say that the Prime Minister was willing to recommend my
+name to her Majesty for the Peerage,--an honor, he was pleased to say,
+the public would see conferred upon me with approval; and I refused!
+Yes, sir, I refused what for thirty-odd years had formed the pride and
+the prize of my existence! I refused it, because I would not that her
+Majesty's favor should descend to one so unworthy of it as this
+fellow, or that his low-born children should inherit a high name of my
+procuring. I refused, sir, and I told the noble Marquess my reasons. He
+tried--pretty much as you have tried--to bring me to a more forgiving
+spirit; but I stopped him by saying, 'When I hear that your Excellency
+has invited to your table the scurrilous author of the lampoon against
+you in the “Satirist,” I will begin to listen to the claims that may be
+urged on the score of forgiveness; not till then.'”
+
+“I am wrong--very wrong--to let you talk on themes like this; we must
+keep them for calmer moments.” Beattie laid his finger on the pulse as
+he spoke, and counted the beats by his watch.
+
+“Well, sir, what says Death? Will he consent to a 'nolle prosequi,' or
+must the cause go on?”
+
+“You are not worse; and even that, after all this excitement, is
+something. Good-bye now till evening. No books,--no newspapers,
+remember. Doze; dream; do anything but excite yourself.”
+
+“You are cruel, sir; you cut off all my enjoyments together. You deny
+me the resources of reading, and you deny me the solace of my wife's
+society.” The cutting sarcasm of the last words was shown in the
+spiteful sparkle of his eye, and the insolent curl of his mouth; and
+as the doctor retired, the memory of that wicked look haunted him
+throughout the day.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. HOME DIPLOMACIES
+
+“Well, it 's done now, Lucy, and it can't be helped,” said young
+Lendrick to his sister, as, with an unlighted cigar between his
+lips, and his hands in the pockets of his shooting-jacket, he walked
+impatiently up and down the drawing-room. “I 'm sure if I only suspected
+you were so strongly against it, I 'd not have done it.”
+
+“My dear Tom, I'm only against it because I think papa would be so. You
+know we never see any one here when he is at home, and why should we
+now, because he is absent?”
+
+“Just for that reason. It's our only chance, girl.”
+
+“Oh, Tom!”
+
+“Well, I don't mean that exactly, but I said it to startle you. No,
+Lucy; but, you see, here's how the matter stands. I have been three
+whole days in their company. On Tuesday the young fellow gave me that
+book of flies and the top-joint of my rod. Yesterday I lunched with
+them. To-day they pressed me so hard to dine with them that I felt
+almost rude in persisting to refuse; and it was as much to avoid the
+awkwardness of the situation as anything else that I asked them up to
+tea this evening.”
+
+“I'm sure, Tom, if it would give you any pleasure--”
+
+“Of course it gives me pleasure,” broke he in; “I don't suspect that
+fellows of my age like to live like hermits. And whom do I ever see down
+here? Old Mills and old Tobin, and Larry Day, the dog-breaker. I ask his
+pardon for putting him last, for he is the best of the three. Girls can
+stand this sort of nun's life, but I 'll be hanged if it will do for
+us.”
+
+“And then, Tom,” resumed she, in the same tone, “remember they are both
+perfect strangers. I doubt if you even know their names.”
+
+“That I do,--the old fellow is Sir Brook something or other. It 's not
+Fogey, but it begins like it; and the other is called Trafford,--Lionel,
+I think, is his Christian name. A glorious fellow, too; was in the 9th
+Lancers and in the blues, and is now here with the fifty--th because he
+went it too hard in the cavalry. He had a horse for the Derby two years
+ago.” The tone of proud triumph in which he made this announcement
+seemed to say, Now, all discussion about him may cease. “Not but,” added
+he, after a pause, “you might like the old fellow best; he has such a
+world of stories, and he draws so beautifully. The whole time we were in
+the boat he was sketching something; and he has a book full of odds
+and ends; a tea-party in China, quail-shooting in Java, a wedding in
+Candia,--I can't tell what more; but he 's to bring them up here with
+him.”
+
+“I was thinking, Tom, that it might be as well if you 'd go down and ask
+Dr. Mills to come to tea. It would take off some of the awkwardness of
+our receiving two strangers.”
+
+“But they 're not strangers, Lucy; not a bit of it. I call him Trafford,
+and he calls me Lendrick; and the old cove is the most familiar old
+fellow I ever met.”
+
+“Have you said anything to Nicholas yet?” asked she, in some eagerness.
+
+“No; and that's exactly what I want you to do for me. That old bear
+bullies us all, so that I can't trust myself to speak to him.”
+
+“Well, don't go away, and I'll send for him now;” and she rang the bell
+as she spoke. A smart-looking lad answered the summons, to whom she
+said, “Tell Nicholas I want him.”
+
+“Take my advice, Lucy, and merely say there are two gentlemen coming to
+tea this evening; don't let the old villain think you are consulting him
+about it, or asking his advice.”
+
+“I must do it my own way,” said she; “only don't interrupt. Don't
+meddle,--mind that, Tom.” The door opened, and a very short, thick-set
+old man, dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, and drab breeches and
+white stockings, with large shoe-buckles in his shoes, entered. His face
+was large and red, the mouth immensely wide, and the eyes far set from
+each other, his low forehead being shadowed by a wig of coarse red
+hair, which moved when he spoke, and seemed almost to possess a sort of
+independent vitality.
+
+He had been reading when he was summoned, and his spectacles had been
+pushed up over his forehead, while he still held the county paper in his
+hand,--a sort of proud protest against being disturbed.
+
+“You heard that Miss Lucy sent for you?” said Tom Lendrick, haughtily,
+as his eye fell upon the newspaper.
+
+“I did,” was the curt answer, as the old fellow, with a nervous shake of
+the head, seemed to announce that he was ready for battle.
+
+“What I wanted, Nicholas, was this,” interposed the girl, in a voice of
+very winning sweetness; “Mr. Tom has invited two gentlemen this evening
+to tea.”
+
+“To tay!” cried Nicholas, as if the fact staggered all credulity.
+
+“Yes, to tea; and I was thinking if you would go down to the town and
+get some biscuits, or a sponge-cake, perhaps--whatever, indeed, you
+thought best; and also beg Dr. Mills to step in, saying that as papa was
+away--”
+
+“That you was going to give a ball?”
+
+“No. Not exactly that, Nicholas,” said she, smiling; “but that two
+friends of my brother's--”
+
+“And where did he meet his friends?” cried he, with a marked emphasis on
+the “friends.” “Two strangers. God knows who or what! Poachers as like
+as anything else. The ould one might be worse.”
+
+“Enough of this,” said Tom, sternly. “Are you the master here? Go off,
+sir, and do what Miss Lucy has ordered you.”
+
+“I will not,--the devil a step,” said the old man, who now thrust the
+paper into a capacious pocket, and struck each hand on a hip. “Is it
+when the 'Jidge' is dying, when the newpapers has a column of the names
+that 's calling to ask after him, you are to be carousing and feastin'
+here?”
+
+“Dear Nicholas, there's no question of feasting. It is simply a cup
+of tea we mean to give; sorely there's no carousing in that. And as to
+grandpapa, papa says that he was certainly better yesterday, and Dr.
+Beattie has hopes now.”
+
+“I have n't, then, and I know him better than Dr. Beattie.”
+
+“What a pity they have n't sent for you for the consultation!” said Tom,
+ironically.
+
+“And look here, Nicholas,” said Lucy, drawing the old man towards the
+door of a small room that led off the drawing-room, “we could have tea
+here; it will look less formal, and give less trouble; and Mears could
+wait,--he does it very well; and you need n't be put out at all.”
+ These last words fell to a whisper; but he was beyond reserve, beyond
+flattery. The last speech of her brother still rankled in his memory,
+and all that fell upon his ear since that fell unheeded.
+
+“I was with your grandfather, Master Tom,” said the old man, slowly,
+“twenty-one years before you were born! I carried his bag down to Court
+the day he defended Neal O' Gorman for high treason, and I was with him
+the morning he shot Luke Dillon at Castle Knock; and this I 'll say and
+stand to, there 's not a man in Ireland, high or low, knows the Chief
+Baron better than myself.”
+
+“It must be a great comfort to you both,” said Tom; but his sister had
+laid her hand on his mouth and made the words unintelligible.
+
+“You'll say to Mr. Mills, Nicholas,” said she, in her most coaxing way,
+“that I did not write, because I preferred sending my message by _you_,
+who could explain why I particularly wanted him this evening.”
+
+“I'll go, Miss Lucy, resarving the point, as they say in the
+law,--resarving the point! because I don't give in that what you're
+doin' is right; and when the master comes home, I'm not goin' to defend
+it.”
+
+“We must bear up under that calamity as well as we can,” said the young
+man, insolently; but Nicholas never looked towards or seemed to hear
+him.
+
+“A barn-a-brack is better than a spongecake, because if there 's some of
+it left it does n't get stale, and one-and-six-pence will be enough; and
+I suppose you don't need a lamp?”
+
+“Well, Nicholas, I must say, I think it would be better; and two candles
+on the small table, and two on the piano.”
+
+“Why don't you mentiou a fiddler?” said he, bitterly. “If it's a ball,
+there ought to be music?”
+
+Unable to control himself longer, young Lendrick wrenched open the
+sash-door, and walked out into the lawn.
+
+“The devil such a family for temper from this to Bantry!” said Nicholas;
+“and here's the company comin' already, or I 'm mistaken. There 's a
+boat makin' for the landing-place with two men in the stern.”
+
+Lucy implored him once more to lose no time on his errand, and hastened
+away to make some change in her dress to receive the strangers.
+Meanwhile Tom, having seen the boat, walked down to the shore to meet
+his friends.
+
+Both Sir Brook and Trafford were enthusiastic in their praises of the
+spot. Its natural beauty was indeed great, but taste and culture had
+rendered it a marvel of elegance and refinement. Not merely were the
+trees grouped with reference to foliage and tint, but the flower-beds
+were so arranged that the laws of color should be respected, and thus
+these plats of perfume were not less luxuriously rich in odor than they
+were captivating as pictures.
+
+“It is all the governor's own doing,” said Tom, proudly, “and he is
+continually changing the disposition of the plants. He says variety is
+a law of the natural world, and it is our duty to imitate it. Here comes
+my sister, gentlemen.”
+
+As though set in a beautiful frame, the lovely girl stood for an instant
+in the porch, where drooping honeysuckles and the tangled branches of
+a vine hung around her, and then came courteously to meet and welcome
+them.
+
+“I am in ecstasy with all I see here, Miss Lendrick,” said Sir Brook.
+“Old traveller that I am, I scarcely know where I have ever seen such a
+combination of beauty.”
+
+“Papa will be delighted to hear this,” said she, with a pleasant smile;
+“it is the flattery he loves best.”
+
+“I 'm always saying we could keep up a salmon-weir on the river for a
+tithe of what these carnations and primroses cost us,” said Tom.
+
+“Why, sir, if you had been in Eden you 'd have made it a market garden,”
+ said the old man.
+
+“If the governor was a Duke of Devonshire, all these-caprices might be
+pardonable; but my theory is, roast-beef before roses.”
+
+While young Lendrick attached himself to Trafford, and took him here and
+there to show him the grounds, Sir Brook walked beside Lucy, who did the
+honors of the place with a most charming courtesy.
+
+“I am almost ashamed, sir,” said she, as they turned towards the house,
+“to have asked you to see such humble objects as these to which we
+attach value, for my brother tells me you are a great traveller; but
+it is just possible you have met in your journeys others who, like us,
+lived so much out of the world that they fancied they had the prettiest
+spot in it for their own.”
+
+“You must not ask me what I think of all I have seen: here, Miss
+Lendrick, till my enthusiasm calms down;” and his look of admiration,
+so palpably addressed to herself, sent a flush to her cheek. “A man's
+belongings are his history,” said Sir Brook, quickly turning the
+conversation into an easier channel: “show me his study, his stable,
+his garden; let me see his hat, his cane, the volume he thrusts into
+his pocket, and I 'll make you an indifferent good guess about his daily
+doings.”
+
+“Tell me of papa's. Come here, Tom,” cried she, as the two young men
+came towards her, “and listen to a bit of divination.”
+
+“Nay, I never promised a lecture. I offered a confidence,” said he, in
+a half whisper; but she went on: “Sir Brook says that he reads people
+pretty much as Cuvier pronounced on a mastodon, by some small minute
+detail that pertained to them. Here's Tom's cigar-case,” said she,
+taking it from his pocket; “what do you infer from that, sir?”
+
+“That he smokes the most execrable tobacco.”
+
+“But can you say why?” asked Tom, with a sly twinkle of his eye.
+
+“Probably for the same reason I do myself,” said Sir Brook, producing a
+very cheap cigar.
+
+“Oh, that's a veritable Cuban compared to one of mine,” cried Tom; “and
+by way of making my future life miserable, here has been Mr. Trafford
+filling my pocket with real havannahs, giving me a taste for luxuries I
+ought never to have known of.”
+
+“Know everything, sir, go everywhere, see all that the world can show
+you; the wider a man's experiences the larger his nature and the more
+open his heart,” said Foss-brooke, boldly.
+
+“I like the theory,” said Trafford to Miss Lendrick; “do you?”
+
+“Sir Brook never meant it for women, I fancy,” said she, in a low tone;
+but the old man overheard her, and said: “You are right. The guide ought
+to know every part of the mountain; the traveller need only know the
+path.”
+
+“Here comes a guide who is satisfied with very short excursions,” cried
+Tom, laughing; “this is our parson, Dr. Mills.”
+
+The little, mellow-looking, well-cared-for person who now joined them
+was a perfect type of old-bachelorhood, in its aspect of not unpleasant
+selfishness. Everything about him was neat, orderly, and appropriate;
+and though you saw at a glance it was all for himself and his own
+enjoyment it was provided, his good manners and courtesy were ever ready
+to extend its benefits to others; and a certain genial look he wore, and
+a manner that nature had gifted him with, did him right good service in
+life, and made him pass for “an excellent fellow, though not much of a
+parson.”
+
+He was of use now, if only that by his presence Lucy felt more at ease,
+not to say that his violoncello, which always remained at the Nest, made
+a pleasant accompaniment when she played, and that he sang with much
+taste some of those lyrics which arc as much linked to Ireland by poetry
+as by music.
+
+“I wish he was our chaplain,--by Jove I do!” whispered Trafford to
+Lendrick; “he's the jolliest fellow of his cloth I have ever met.”
+
+“And such a cook,” muttered the other.
+
+“A cook!”
+
+“Ay, a cook. I 'll make him ask us to dinner, and you 'll tell me if you
+ever ate fish as he gives it, or tasted macaroni as dressed by him. I
+have a salmon for you, doctor, a ten-pound fish. I wish it were bigger!
+but it is in splendid order.”
+
+“Did you set it?” asked the parson, eagerly.
+
+“What does he mean by set it?” whispered Trafford.
+
+“Setting means plunging it in very hot water soon after killing it,
+to preserve and harden the 'curd.' Yes; and I took your hint about the
+arbutus leaves, too, doctor. I covered it all up with them.”
+
+“You are a teachable youth, and shall be rewarded. Come and eat him
+to-morrow. Dare I hope that these gentlemen are disengaged, and will
+honor my poor parsonage? Will you favor me with your company at five
+o'clock, sir?”
+
+Sir Brook bowed, and accepted the invitation with pleasure.
+
+“And you, sir?”
+
+“Only too happy,” said Trafford.
+
+“Lucy, my dear, you must be one of us.”
+
+“Oh, I could not; it is impossible, doctor,--you know it is.”
+
+“I know nothing of the kind.”
+
+“Papa away,--not to speak of his never encouraging us to leave home,”
+ muttered she, in a whisper.
+
+“I accept no excuses, Lucy; such a rare opportunity may not occur to me
+in a hurry. Mrs. Brennan, my housekeeper, will be so proud to see you,
+that I 'm not sure she 'll not treat these gentlemen to her brandy
+peaches,--a delicacy, I feel bound to say, she has never conceded to any
+one less than the bishop of the diocese.”
+
+“Don't ask me, doctor. I know that papa--”
+
+But he broke in, saying,--“'You know I 'm your priest, and your
+conscience is mine;' and besides, I really do want to see how the
+parsonage will look with a lady at the top of the table: who knows what
+it may lead to?”
+
+“Come, Lucy, that's the nearest thing to a proposal I 've heard for some
+time. You really must go now,” said Tom.
+
+“Papa will not like it,” whispered she in his ear.
+
+“Then he'll have to settle the matter with me, Lucy,” said the doctor,
+“for it was I who overruled you.”
+
+“Don't look to me, Miss Lendrick, to sustain you in your refusal,” said
+Sir Brook, as the young girl turned towards him. “I have the strongest
+interest in seeing the doctor successful.”
+
+If Trafford said nothing, the glance he gave her more than backed the
+old man's speech, and she turned away half vexed, half pleased, puzzled
+how to act, and flattered at the same time by an amount of attention so
+new to her and so strange. Still she could not bring herself to promise
+she would go, and wished them all good-night at last, without a pledge.
+
+“Of course she will,” muttered Tom in the doctor's ear. “She's afraid
+of the governor; but I know he'll not be displeased,--you may reckon on
+her.”
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND
+
+From the day that Sir Brook made the acquaintance of Tom Lendrick and
+his sister, he determined he would “pitch his tent,” as he called it,
+for some time at Killaloe. They had, so to say, captivated the old man.
+The young fellow, by his frank, open, manly nature, his ardent love
+of sport in every shape, his invariable good-humor, and more than all
+these, by the unaffected simplicity of his character, had strongly
+interested him; while Lucy had made a far deeper impression by her
+gentleness, her refinement, an elegance in deportment that no teaching
+ever gives, and, along with these, a mind stored with thought and
+reflectiveness. Let us, however, be just to each, and own that her
+beauty and the marvellous fascination of her smile gave her, even in
+that old man's eyes, an irresistible charm. It was a very long bygone,
+but he had once been in love, and the faint flicker of the memory
+had yet survived in his heart. It was just as likely Lucy bore no
+resemblance to her he had loved, but he fancied she did,--he imagined
+that she was her very image. That was the smile, the glance, the tone,
+the gesture which once had set his heart a-throbbing, and the illusion
+threw around her an immense fascination.
+
+She liked him too. Through all the strange incongruities of his
+character, his restless love of adventure and excitement, there ran a
+gentle liking for quiet pleasures. He loved scenery passionately, and
+with a painter's taste for color and form; he loved poetry, which he
+read with a wondrous charm of voice and intonation. Nor was it without
+its peculiar power, this homage of an old, old man, who rendered her the
+attentive service of a devoted admirer.
+
+There is very subtle flattery in the obsequious devotion of age to
+youth. It is, at least, an honest worship, an unselfish offering, and in
+this way the object of it may well feel proud of its tribute.
+
+From the vicar, Dr. Mills, Fossbrooke had learned the chief events
+of Dr. Lendrick's history, of his estrangement from his father, his
+fastidious retirement from the world, and, last of all, his narrow
+fortune, apparently now growing narrower, since within the last year he
+had withdrawn his son from the University on the score of its expense.
+
+A gold-medallist and a scholar, Dr. Lendrick would have eagerly coveted
+such honors for his son. It was, probably, the one triumph in life he
+would have set most store by, but Tom was one not made for collegiate
+successes. He had abilities, but they were not teachable qualities;
+he could pick up a certain amount of almost anything,--he could learn
+nothing. He could carry away from a chance conversation an amount of
+knowledge it had cost the talkers years to acquire, and yet set him
+down regularly to work book-fashion, and either from want of energy, or
+concentration, or of that strong will which masters difficulties just
+as a full current carries all before it--whichever of these was his
+defect,--he arose from his task wearied, worn, but unadvanced.
+
+When, therefore, his father would speak, as he sometimes did,
+in confidence to the vicar, in a tone of depression about Tom's
+deficiencies, the honest parson would feel perfectly lost in amazement
+at what he meant. To his eyes Tom Lendrick was a wonder, a prodigy.
+There was not a theme he could not talk on, and talk well too. “It was
+but the other day he told the chief engineer of the Shannon Company more
+about the geological formation of the river-basin than all his staff
+knew. Ay, and what's stranger,” added the vicar, “he understands the
+whole Colenso controversy better than I do myself.” It is just possible
+that in the last panegyric there was nothing of exaggeration or excess.
+“And with all that, sir, his father goes on brooding over his neglected
+education, and foreshadowing the worst results from his ignorance.”
+
+“He is a fine fellow,” said Fossbrooke, “but not to be compared with his
+sister.”
+
+“Not for mere looks, perhaps, nor for a graceful manner, and a winning
+address; but who would think of ranking Lucy's abilities with her
+brother's?”
+
+“Not I,” said Fossbrooke, boldly, “for I place hers far and away above
+them.”
+
+A sly twinkle of the parson's eye showed to what class of advantages
+he ascribed the other's preference; but he said no more, and the
+controversy ended.
+
+Every morning found Sir Brook at the “Swan's Nest.” He was fond of
+gardening, and had consummate taste in laying out ground, so that many
+pleasant surprises had been prepared for Dr. Lendrick's return. He drew,
+too, with great skill, and Lucy made considerable progress under his
+teaching; and as they grew more intimate, and she was not ashamed of the
+confession that she delighted in the Georgics of Virgil, they read whole
+hours together of those picturesque descriptions of rural life and its
+occupations, which are as true to nature at this hour as on the day they
+were written.
+
+Perhaps the old man fancied that it was he who had suggested this
+intense appreciation of the poet. It is just possible that the young
+girl believed that she had reclaimed a wild, erratic, eccentric nature,
+and brought him back ta the love of simple pleasures and a purer source
+of enjoyment. Whichever way the truth inclined, each was happy, each
+contented. And how fond are we all, of every age, of playing the
+missionary, of setting off into the savage districts of our neighbors'
+natures and combating their false idols, their superstitions and strange
+rites! The least adventurous and the least imaginative have these little
+outbursts of conversion, and all are more or less propagandists.
+
+It was one morning, a bright and glorious one too, that, while Tom
+and Lucy were yet at breakfast, Sir Brook arrived and entered the
+breakfast-room.
+
+“What a day for a gray hackle, in that dark pool under the larch-trees!”
+ cried Tom, as he saw him.
+
+“What a day for a long walk to Mount Laurel!” said Lucy. “You said,
+t'other morning, you wanted cloud effects on the upper lake. I 'll show
+you splendid ones to-day.”
+
+“I 'll promise you a full basket before four o'clock,” broke in Tom.
+
+“I 'll promise you a full sketch-book,” said Lucy, with one of her
+sweetest smiles.
+
+“And I 'm going to refuse both; for I have a plan of my own, and a plan
+not to be gainsaid.”
+
+“I know it, You want us to go to work on that fish-pond. I'm certain
+it's that.”
+
+“No, Tom; it's the catalogue,--the weary catalogue that he told me, as a
+punishment for not being able to find Machiavelli's comedies last week,
+he 'd make me sit down to on the first lovely morning that came.”
+
+“Better that than those dreary Georgics which remind one of school, and
+the third form. But what 's your plan, Sir Brook? We have thought of all
+the projects that can terrify us, and you look as if it ought to be a
+terror.”
+
+“Mine is a plan for pleasure, and pleasure only; so pack up at once and
+get ready. Trafford arrived this morning.”
+
+“Where is he? I am so glad! Where's Trafford?” cried Tom, delighted.
+
+“I have despatched him with the vicar and two well-filled hampers to
+Holy Island, where I mean that we shall all picnic. There 's my plan.”
+
+“And a jolly plan too! I adhere unconditionally.”
+
+“And you, Lucy, what do you say?” asked Sir Brook, as the young girl
+stood with a look of some indecision and embarrassment.
+
+“I don't say that it's not a very pleasant project, but--”
+
+“But what, Lucy? Where 's the but?”
+
+She whispered a few words in his ear, and he cried out: “Is n't this too
+bad? She tells me Nicholas does not like all this gayety; that Nicholas
+disapproves of our mode of life.”
+
+“No, Tom; I only said Nicholas thinks that papa would not like it.”
+
+“Couldn't we see Nicholas? Couldn't we have a commission to examine
+Nicholas?” asked Sir Brook, laughingly.
+
+“I 'll not be on it, that 's all I know; for I should finish by chucking
+the witness into the Shannon. Come along, Lucy; don't let us lose this
+glorious morning. I 'll get some lines and hooks together. Be sure you
+'re ready when I come back.”
+
+As the door closed after him, Sir Brook drew near to Lucy, where she
+stood in an attitude of doubt and hesitation. “I mustn't risk your good
+opinion of me rashly. If you really dislike this excursion, I will give
+it up,” said he, in a low, gentle voice.
+
+“Dislike it? No; far from it. I suspect I would enjoy it more than
+any of you. My reluctance was simply on the ground that all this is
+so unlike the life we have been leading hitherto. Papa will surely
+disapprove of it. Oh, there comes Nicholas with a letter!” cried she,
+opening the sash-window. “Give it to me; it is from papa.”
+
+She broke the seal hurriedly, and ran rapidly over the lines. “Oh, yes!
+I will go now, and go with delight too. It is full of good news. He is
+to see grandpapa, if not to-morrow, the day after. He hopes all will
+be well. Papa knows your name, Sir Brook. He says, 'Ask your friend
+Sir Brook if he be any relative of a Sir Brook Foss-brooke who rescued
+Captain Langton some forty years ago from a Neapolitan prison. The
+print-shops were filled with his likeness when I was a boy.' Was he one
+of your family?” inquired she, looking at him.
+
+“I am the man,” said he, calmly and coldly. “Langton was sentenced to
+the galleys for life for having struck the Count d'Aconi across the face
+with his glove; and the Count was nephew to the King. They had him at
+Capri working in chains, and I landed with my yacht's crew and liberated
+him.”
+
+“What a daring thing to do!”
+
+“Not so daring as you fancy. The guard was surprised, and fled. It was
+only when reinforced that they showed fight. Our toughest enemies were
+the galley-slaves, who, when they discovered that we never meant to
+liberate them, attacked us with stones. This scar on my temple is a
+memorial of the affair.”
+
+“And Langton, what became of him?”
+
+“He is now Lord Burrowfield. He gave me two fingers to shake the last
+time I met him at the Travellers'.”
+
+“Oh, don't say that! Oh, don't tell me of such ingratitude!”
+
+“My dear child, people usually regard gratitude as a debt which, once
+acknowledged, is acquitted; and perhaps they are right. It makes all
+intercourse freer and less trammelled.”
+
+“Here comes Tom. May I tell him this story, or will you tell him
+yourself?”
+
+“Not either, my dear Lucy. Your brother's blood is over-hot as it is.
+Let him not have any promptings to such exploits as these.”
+
+“But may I tell papa?”
+
+“Just as well not, Lucy. There were scores of wild things attributed to
+me in those days. He may possibly remember some of them, and begin to
+suspect that his daughter might be in better company.”
+
+“How was it that you never told me of this exploit?” asked she, looking,
+not without admiration, at the hard stern features before her.
+
+“My dear child, egotism is the besetting sin of old people, and even
+the most cautious lapse into it occasionally. Set me once a-talking of
+myself, all my prudence, all my reserve vanishes; so that, as a measure
+of safety for my friends and myself too, I avoid the theme when I can.
+There! Tom is beckoning to us. Let us go to him at once.”
+
+Holy Island, or Inishcaltra, to give it its Irish name, is a wild spot,
+with little remarkable about it, save the ruins of seven churches and
+a curious well of fabulous depth. It was, however, a favorite spot with
+the vicar, whose taste in localities was somehow always associated with
+some feature of festivity, the great merit of the present spot being
+that you could dine without any molestation from beggars. In such
+estimation, indeed, did he hold the class, that he seriously believed
+their craving importunity to be one of the chief reasons of dyspepsia,
+and was profoundly convinced that the presence of Lazarus at his gate
+counterbalanced many of the goods which fortune had bestowed upon Dives.
+
+“Here we dine in real comfort,” said he, as he seated himself under the
+shelter of an ivy-covered wall, with a wide reach of the lake at his
+feet.
+
+“When I come back from California with that million or two,” said
+Tom, “I 'll build a cottage here, where we can all come and dine
+continually.”
+
+“Let us keep the anniversary of the present day as a sort of foundation
+era,” said the vicar.
+
+“I like everything that promises pleasure,” said Sir Brook, “but I like
+to stipulate that we do not draw too long a bill on Fortune. Think how
+long a year is. This time twelvemonth, for example, you, my dear doctor,
+may be a bishop, and not over inclined to these harmless levities. Tom
+there will be, as he hints, gold-crushing, at the end of the earth.
+Trafford, not improbably, ruling some rajah's kingdom in the far East.
+Of your destiny, fair Lucy, brightest of all, it is not for me to speak.
+Of my own it is not worth speaking.”
+
+“Nolo episcopari,” said the vicar; “pass me the Madeira.”
+
+“You forget, perhaps, that is the phrase for accepting the mitre,” said
+Sir Brook, laughing. “Bishops, like belles, say 'No' when they mean
+'Yes.'”
+
+“And who told you that belles did?” broke in Lucy. “I am in a sad
+minority here, but I stand up for my sex.”
+
+“I repeat a popular prejudice, fair lady.”
+
+“And Lucy will not have it that belles are as illogical as bishops? I
+see I was right in refusing the bench,” said the vicar.
+
+“What bright boon of Fortune is Trafford meditating the rejection of?”
+ said Sir Brook; and the young fellow's cheek grew crimson as he tried to
+laugh off the reply.
+
+“Who made this salad?” cried Tom.
+
+“It was I; who dares to question it?” said Lucy. “The doctor has
+helped himself twice to it, and that test I take to be a certificate to
+character.”
+
+“I used to have some skill in dressing a salad, but I have foregone the
+practice for many a day; my culinary gift got me sent out of Austria in
+twenty-four hours. Oh, it 's nothing that deserves the name of a story,”
+ said Sir Brook, as the others looked at him for an explanation. “It was
+as long ago as the year 1806. Sir Robert Adair had been our minister at
+Vienna, when, a rupture taking place between the two Governments, he was
+recalled. He did not, however, return to England, but continued to live
+as a private citizen at Vienna. Strangely enough, from the moment that
+our embassy ceased to be recognized by the Government, our countrymen
+became objects of especial civility. I myself, amongst the rest, was
+the _bien-venu_ in some of the great houses, and even invited by Count
+Cobourg Cohari to those _déjeuners_ which he gave with such splendor at
+Maria Hülfe.
+
+“At one of these, as a dish of salad was handed round, instead of eating
+it, like the others, I proceeded to make a very complicated dressing for
+it on my plate, calling for various condiments, and seasoning my mess in
+a most refined and ingenious manner. No sooner had I given the finishing
+touch to my great achievement than the Grand-Duchess Sophia, who it
+seems had watched the whole performance, sent a servant round to beg
+that I would send her my plate. She accompanied the request with a
+little bow and a smile whose charm I can still recall. Whatever the
+reason, before I awoke next morning, an agent of the police entered my
+room and informed me my passports were made out for Dresden, and that
+his orders were to give me the pleasure of his society till I crossed
+the frontier. There was no minister, no envoy to appeal to, and nothing
+left but to comply. They said 'Go,' and I went.”
+
+“And all for a dish of salad!” cried the vicar.
+
+“All for the bright eyes of an archduchess, rather,” broke in Lucy,
+laughing.
+
+The old man's grateful smile at the compliment to his gallantry showed
+how, even in a heart so world-worn, the vanity of youth survived.
+
+“I declare it was very hard,” said Tom,--“precious hard.”
+
+“If you mean to give up the salad, so think I too,” cried the vicar.
+
+“I 'll be shot if I 'd have gone,” broke in Trafford.
+
+“You'd probably have been shot if you had stayed,” replied Tom.
+
+“There are things we submit to in life, not because the penalty of
+resistance affrights us, but because we half acquiesce in their justice.
+You, for instance, Trafford, are well pleased to be here on leave,
+and enjoy yourself, as I take it, considerably; and yet the call
+of duty--some very commonplace duty, perhaps--would make you return
+tomorrow in all haste.”
+
+“Of course it would,” said Lucy.
+
+“I 'm not so sure of it,” murmured Trafford, sullenly; “I 'd rather go
+into close arrest for a week than I 'd lose this day here.”
+
+“Bravo! here's your health, Lionel,” cried Tom. “I do like to hear a
+fellow say he is willing to pay the cost of what pleases him.”
+
+“I must preach wholesome doctrine, my young friends,” broke in the
+vicar. “Now that we have dined well, I would like to say aword on
+abstinence.”
+
+“You mean to take no coffee, doctor, then?” asked Lucy, laughing.
+
+“That I do, my sweet child,--coffee and a pipe, too, for I know you are
+tolerant of tobacco.”
+
+“I hope she is,” said Tom, “or she 'd have a poor time of it in the
+house with me.”
+
+“I 'll put no coercion upon my tastes on this occasion, for I 'll take a
+stroll through the ruins, and leave you to your wine,” said she, rising.
+
+They protested, in a mass, against her going. “We cannot lock the door,
+Lucy, _de facto_,” said Sir Brook, “but we do it figuratively.”
+
+“And in that case I make my escape by the window,” said she, springing
+through an old lancet-shaped orifice in the Abbey wall.
+
+“There goes down the sun and leaves us but a gray twilight,” said Sir
+Brook, mournfully, as he looked after her. “If there were only enough
+beauty on earth, I verily believe we might dispense with parsons.”
+
+“Push me over the bird's-eye, and let me nourish myself till your
+millennium comes,” said the vicar.
+
+“What a charming girl she is! her very beauty fades away before the
+graceful attraction of her manner!” whispered Sir Brook to the doctor.
+
+“Oh, if you but knew her as I do! If you but knew how, sacrificing all
+the springtime of her bright youth, she has never had a thought save
+to make herself the companion of her poor father,--a sad, depressed,
+sorrow-struck man, only rescued from despair by that companionship! I
+tell you, sir, there is more courage in submitting one's self to the
+nature of another than in facing a battery.”
+
+Sir Brook grasped the parson's hand and shook it cordially. The action
+spoke more than any words. “And the brother, doctor,--what say you of
+the brother?” whispered he.
+
+“One of those that the old adage says 'either makes a spoon or spoils
+the horn.' That 's Master Tom there.”
+
+Low as the words were uttered, they caught the sharp ears of him they
+spoke of, and with a laughing eye he cried out, “What 's that evil
+prediction you 're uttering about me, doctor?”
+
+“I am just telling Sir Brook here that it's pure head or tail how you
+turn out. There's stuff in you to make a hero, but it's just as likely
+you 'll stop short at a highwayman.”
+
+“I think I could guess which of the two would best suit the age we live
+in,” said Tom, gayly. “Are we to have another bottle of that Madeira,
+for I suspect I see the doctor putting up the corkscrew?”
+
+“You are to have no more wine than what's before you till you land me
+at the quay of Killaloe. When temperance means safety as well as
+forbearance, it's one of the first of virtues.”
+
+The vicar, indeed, soon grew impatient to depart. Fine as the evening
+was then, it might change. There was a feeling, too, not of damp, but
+chilliness; at all events, he was averse to being on the water late; and
+as he was the great promoter of these little convivial gatherings, his
+word was law.
+
+It is not easy to explain how it happened that Trafford sat beside Lucy.
+Perhaps the trim of the boat required it; certainly, however, nothing
+required that the vicar, who sat next Lucy on the other side, should
+fall fast asleep almost as soon as he set foot on board. Meanwhile
+Sir Brook and Tom had engaged in an animated discussion as to the
+possibility of settling in Ireland as a man settles in some lone island
+in the Pacific, teaching the natives a few of the needs of civilization
+and picking up a few convenient ways of theirs in turn, Sir Brook
+warming with the theme so far as to exclaim at last, “If I only had a
+few of those thousands left me which I lost, squandered, or gave away, I
+'d try the scheme, and you should be my lieutenant, Tom.”
+
+It was one of those projects, very pleasant in their way, where men can
+mingle the serious with the ludicrous, where actual wisdom may go hand
+in hand with downright absurdity; and so did they both understand it,
+mingling, the very sagest reflections with projects the wildest and most
+eccentric. Their life, as they sketched it, was to be almost savage in
+freedom, untrammelled by all the tiresome conventionalities of the outer
+world, and at the same time offering such an example of contentedness
+and comfort as to shame the condition of all without the Pale.
+
+They agreed that the vicar must join them; he should be their Bishop.
+He might grumble a little at first about the want of hot plates or
+finger-glasses, but he would soon fall into their ways, and some native
+squaw would console him for the loss of Mrs. Brennan's housekeeping
+gifts.
+
+And Trafford and Lucy all this time,--what did they talk of? Did they,
+too, imagine a future and plan out a life-road in company? Far too timid
+for that,--they lingered over the past, each asking some trait of the
+other's childhood, eager to hear any little incident which might
+mark character or indicate temper. And at last they came down to the
+present,--to the very hour they lived in, and laughingly wondered at
+the intimacy that had grown up between them. “Only twelve days to-morrow
+since we first met,” said Lucy, and her color rose as she said it, “and
+here we are talking away as if--as if--”
+
+“As if what?” cried he, only by an effort suppressing her name as it
+rose to his lips.
+
+“As if we knew each other for years. To me it seems the strangest thing
+in the world,--I who have never had friendships or companionships. To
+you, I have no doubt, it is common enough.”
+
+“But it is not,” cried he, eagerly. “Such fortune never befell me
+before. I have gone a good deal into life,--seen scores of people in
+country-houses and the like; but I never met any one before I could
+speak to of myself,--I mean, that I had courage to tell--not that,
+exactly--but that I wanted them to know I was n't so bad a fellow--so
+reckless or so heartless as people thought me.”
+
+“And is that the character you bear?” said she, with, though not visible
+to him, a faint smile on her mouth.
+
+“I think it's what my family would say of me,--I mean now, for once on a
+time I was a favorite at home.”
+
+“And why are you not still?”
+
+“Because I was extravagant; because I went into debt; because I got
+very easily into scrapes, and very badly out of them,--not dishonorably,
+mind; the scrapes I speak of were money troubles, and they brought me
+into collision with my governor. That was how it came about I was sent
+over here. They meant as a punishment what has turned out the greatest
+happiness of my life.”
+
+“How cold the water is!” said Lucy, as, taking off her glove, she
+suffered her hand to dip in the water beside the boat.
+
+“Deliciously cold,” said he, as, plunging in his hand, he managed, as
+though by accident, to touch hers. She drew it rapidly away, however,
+and then, to prevent the conversation returning to its former channel,
+said aloud: “What _are_ you laughing over so heartily, Sir Brook? You
+and Tom appear to have fallen upon a mine of drollery. Do share it with
+us.”
+
+“You shall hear it all one of these days, Lucy. Jog the doctor's arm now
+and wake him up, for I see the lights at the boat-house, and we shall
+soon be on shore.”
+
+“And sorry I am for it,” muttered Trafford, in a whisper; “I wish this
+night could be drawn out to years.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. WAITING ON
+
+On the sixth day after Dr. Lendrick's arrival in Dublin--a fruitless
+journey so far as any hope of reconciliation was concerned--he resolved
+to return home. His friend Beattie, however, induced him to delay
+his departure to the-next day, clinging to some small hope from a few
+words-that had dropped from Sir William on that same morning. “Let me
+see you to-night, doctor; I have a note to show you which I could not
+to-day with all these people about me.” Now, the people in question
+resolved themselves into one person, Lady Lendrick, who indeed bustled
+into the room and out of it, slammed doors and upset chairs in a fashion
+that might well have excused the exaggeration that converted her into
+a noun of multitude. A very warm altercation had occurred, too, in the
+doctor's presence with reference to some letter from India, which
+Lady Lendrick was urging Sir William to reply to, but which he firmly
+declared he would not answer.
+
+“How I am to treat a man subject to such attacks of temper, so easily
+provoked, and so incessantly irritated, is not clear to me. At all
+events I will see him to-night, and hear what he has to say to me. I am
+sure it has no concern with this letter from India.” With these words
+Beattie induced his friend to defer his journey for another day.
+
+It was a long and anxious day to poor Lendrick. It was not alone that
+he had to suffer the bitter disappointment of all his hopes of being
+received by his father and admitted to some gleam of future favor, but
+he had discovered that certain debts which he had believed long settled
+by the judge were still outstanding against him, Lady Lendrick having
+interfered to prevent their payment, while she assured the creditors
+that if they had patience Dr. Lendrick would one day or other be in a
+position to acquit them. Between two and three thousand pounds thus hung
+over him of indebtedness above all his calculations, and equally above
+all his ability to meet.
+
+“We thought you knew all this, Dr. Lendrick,” said Mr. Hack, Sir
+William's agent; “we imagined you were a party to the arrangement,
+understanding that you were reluctant to bring these debts under the
+Chief Baron's eyes, being moneys lent to your wife's relations.”
+
+“I believed that they were paid,” was all his reply, for the story was
+a painful one of trust betrayed and confidence abused, and he did not
+desire to revive it. He had often been told that his stepmother was the
+real obstacle to all hope of reconciliation with his father, but that
+she had pushed her enmity to him to the extent of his ruin was more than
+he was prepared for. They had never met, but at one time letters had
+frequently passed between them. Hers were marvels of good wishes and
+kind intentions, dashed with certain melancholy reflections over some
+shadowy unknown something which had been the cause of his estrangement
+from his father, but which time and endurance might not impossibly
+diminish the bitterness of, though with very little hope of leading to
+a more amicable relation. She would assume, besides, occasionally a kind
+of companionship in sorrow, and, as though the confession had burst from
+her unawares, avow that Sir William's temper was more than human nature
+was called upon to submit to, and that years only added to those violent
+outbursts of passion which made the existence of all around him
+a perpetual martyrdom. These always wound up with some sweet
+congratulations on “Tom's good fortune in his life of peaceful
+retirement,” and the “tranquil pleasures of that charming spot of which
+every one tells me such wonders, and which the hope of visiting is one
+of my most entrancing daydreams.” We give the passage textually,
+because it occurred without a change of a word thus in no less than five
+different letters.
+
+This formal repetition of a phrase, and certain mistakes she made
+about the names of his children, first opened Lendrick's eyes as to
+the sincerity and affection of his correspondent, for he was the least
+suspicious of men, and regarded distrust as a disgrace to him who
+entertained it.
+
+Over all these things now did he ponder during this long dreary day.
+He did not like to go out lest he should meet old acquaintances and be
+interrogated about his father, of whom he knew less than almost every
+one. He shunned the tone of compassionate interest men met him with, and
+he dreaded even the old faces that reminded him of the past. He could
+not read: he tried, but could not. After a few minutes he found that
+his thoughts wandered off from the book and centred on his own concerns,
+till his head ached with the weary round of those difficulties which
+came ever back, and back, and back again undiminished, unrelieved, and
+unsolved. The embarrassments of life are not, like chess problems, to be
+resolved by a skilful combination: they are to be encountered by temper,
+by patience, by daring at one time, by submission at another, by a
+careful consideration of a man's own powers, and by a clear-sighted
+estimate of his neighbors; and all these exercised not beforehand, nor
+in retirement, but on the very field itself where the conflict is raging
+and the fight at its hottest.
+
+It was late at night when Beattie returned home, and entered the study
+where Lendrick sat awaiting him. “I am very late, Tom,” said he, as he
+threw himself into an arm-chair, like one fatigued and exhausted; “but
+it was impossible to get away. Never in all my life have I seen him
+so full of anecdote, so abounding in pleasant recollections, so
+ready-witted, and so brilliant. I declare to you that if I could but
+recite the things he said, or give them even with a faint semblance of
+the way he told them, it would be the most amusing page of bygone
+Irish history. It was a grand review of all the celebrated men whom he
+remembered in his youth, from the eccentric Lord Bristol, the Bishop of
+Down, to O'Connell and Shiel. Nor did his own self-estimate, high as
+it was, make the picture in which he figured less striking, nor less
+memorable his concluding words, as he said, 'These fellows are all in
+history, Beattie,--every man of them. There are statues to them in our
+highways, and men visit the spots that gave them birth; and here am I,
+second to none of them. Trinity College and the Four Courts will tell
+you if I speak in vanity; and here am I; and the only question about me
+is, when I intend to vacate the bench, when it will be my good pleasure
+to resign--they are not particular which--my judgeship or my life. But,
+sir, I mean not to do either; I mean to live and protest against the
+inferiority of the men around me, and the ingratitude of the country
+that does not know how to appreciate the one man of eminence it
+possesses.' I assure you, Tom, vain and insolent as the speech was, as
+I listened I thought it was neither. There was a haughty dignity
+about him, to which his noble bead and his deep sonorous voice and his
+commanding look lent effect that overcame all thought of attributing to
+such a man any over-estimate of his powers.”
+
+“And this note that he wished to show you,--what was it?”
+
+“Oh, the note was a few lines written in an adjoining room by Balfour,
+the Viceroy's secretary. It seems that his Excellency, finding all other
+seductions fail, thought of approaching your father through you.”
+
+“Through _me!_ It was a bright inspiration.”
+
+“Yes; he sent Balfour to ask if the Chief Baron would feel gratified by
+the post of Hospital Inspector at the Cape being offered to you. It is
+worth eight hundred a year, and a house.”
+
+“Well, what answer did he give?” asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+
+“He directed Balfour, who only saw Lady Lendrick, to reduce the proposal
+to writing. I don't fancy that the accomplished young gentleman exactly
+liked the task, but he did not care to refuse, and so he sat down and
+wrote one of the worst notes I ever read.”
+
+“Worst--in what way?”
+
+“In every way. It was scarcely intelligible, without a previous
+knowledge of its contents, and so worded as to imply that when the Chief
+Baron had acceded to the proposal, he had so bound himself in gratitude
+to the Government that all honorable retreat was closed to him. I wish
+you saw your father's face when he read it. 'Beattie,' said he, 'I have
+no right to say Tom must refuse this offer; but if he should do so, I
+will make the document you see there be read in the House, and my
+name is not William Lendrick if it do not cost them more than they are
+prepared for. Go now and consult your friend;' it was so he called you.
+'If his wants are such that this place is of consequence to him, let him
+accept it. I shall not ask his reasons for whatever course he may take.
+_My_ reply is already written, and to his Excellency in person.' This
+he said in a way to imply that its tone was one not remarkable for
+conciliation or courtesy.
+
+“I thought the opportunity a favorable one to say that you were in town
+at the moment, that the accounts of his illness had brought you up, and
+that you were staying at my house.
+
+“'The sooner will you be able to communicate with him, sir,' said he,
+haughtily.”
+
+“No more than that!”
+
+“No more, except that he added, 'Remember, sir, his acceptance or his
+refusal is to be his own act, not to be intimated in any way to me, nor
+to come through me.'”
+
+“This is unnecessary harshness,” said Lendrick, with a quivering lip;
+“there was no need to tell me how estranged we are from each other.”
+
+“I fancied I could detect a struggle with himself in all his sternness;
+and his hand trembled when I took it to say 'good-bye.' I was going to
+ask if you might not be permitted to see him, even for a brief moment;
+but I was afraid, lest in refusing he might make a reconciliation still
+more remote, and so I merely said, 'May I leave you those miniatures I
+showed you a few days ago? 'His answer was, 'You may leave them, sir.'
+
+“As I came down to the hall, I met Lady Lendrick. She was in evening
+dress, going out, but had evidently waited to Catch me as I passed.
+
+“'You find the Chief much better, don't you?' asked she. I bowed and
+assented.. 'And he will be better still,' added she, 'when all these
+anxieties are over.' She saw that I did not or would not apprehend her
+meaning, and added, 'I mean about this resignation, which, of course,
+you will advise him to. The Government are really behaving so very well,
+so liberal, and withal so delicate. If they had been our own people, I
+doubt if they would have shown anything like the same generosity.'
+
+“'I have heard of nothing but the offer to Dr. Lendrick,' said I.
+
+“She seemed confused, and moved on; and then recovering herself, said,
+'And a most handsome offer it is. I hope he thinks so.'
+
+“With this we parted, and I believe now I have told you almost word for
+word everything that occurred concerning you.”
+
+“And what do _you_ say to all this, Beattie?” asked Lendrick, in a
+half-sad tone.
+
+“I say that if in your place, Tom, I would accept. It may be that the
+Chief Baron will interpose and say, Don't go; or it may be that your
+readiness to work for your bread should conciliate him; he has long had
+the impression that you are indisposed to exertion, and too fond of your
+own ease.”
+
+“I know it,--I know it; Lady Lendrick has intimated as much to me.”
+
+“At all events, you can make no mistake in entertaining the project; and
+certainly the offer is not to be despised.”
+
+“It is of him, and of him alone, I am thinking, Beattie. If he would let
+me see him, admit me once more on my old terms of affection, I would go
+anywhere, do anything that he counselled. Try, my dear friend, to bring
+this about; do your best for me, and remember I will subscribe to any
+terms, submit to anything, if he will only be reconciled to me.”
+
+“It will be hard if we cannot manage this somehow,” said Beattie; “but
+now let us to bed. It is past two o'clock. Good-night, Tom; sleep well,
+and don't dream of the Cape or the Caffres.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOR
+
+That ancient and incongruous pile which goes by the name of the Castle
+in Dublin, and to which Irishmen very generally look as the well from
+which all honors and places flow, is not remarkable for either the
+splendor or space it affords to the inmates beneath its roof. Upheld
+by a great prestige perhaps, as in the case of certain distinguished
+people, who affect a humble exterior and very simple belongings, it may
+deem that its own transcendent importance has no need of accessories.
+Certainly the ugliness of its outside is in noway unbalanced by the
+meanness within; and even the very highest of those who claim its
+hospitality are lodged in no-princely fashion.
+
+In a corner of the old red brick quadrangle, to the right of the state
+entrance, in a small room whose two narrow windows looked into a lane,
+sat a very well-dressed young-gentleman at a writing-table. Short, and
+disposed to roundness in face as well as figure, Mr. Cholmondely Balfour
+scarcely responded in appearance to his imposing name. Nature had not
+been as bountiful, perhaps, as Fortune; for while he was rich,
+well born, and considerably gifted in abilities, his features were
+unmistakably common and vulgar, and all the aids of dress could not
+atone for the meanness in his general look. Had he simply accepted his
+image as a thing to be quietly borne and submitted to, the case might
+not have been so very bad; but he took it as something to be corrected,
+changed, and ameliorated, and the result was a perpetual struggle
+to make the most ordinary traits and commonplace features appear the
+impress of one on whom Nature had written gentleman. It would have been
+no easy task to have imposed on him in a question of his duty. He was
+the private secretary of the Viceroy, who was his maternal uncle. It
+would have been a tough task to have misled or deceived him in any
+matter open to his intelligence to examine; but upon this theme there
+was not the inventor of a hair-wash, a skin-paste, a whisker-dye, or a
+pearl-powder that might not have led him captive. A bishop might have
+found difficulty in getting audience of him,--a barber might have
+entered unannounced; and while the lieutenant of a county sat waiting in
+the antechamber, the tailor, with a new waistcoat pattern, walked
+boldly into the august presence. Entering life by that _petite porte_
+of politics, an Irish office, he had conceived a very humble estimate
+of the people amongst whom he was placed. Regarding his extradition from
+Whitehall and its precincts as a sort of probationary banishment, he
+felt, however, its necessity; and as naval men are accredited with two
+years of service for every one year on the coast of Africa, Mr. Balfour
+was aware that a grateful Government could equally recognize the
+devotion of him who gave some of the years of his youth to the Fernando
+Po of statecraft.
+
+This impression, being rarely personal in its consequences, was not of
+much moment; but it was conjoined with a more serious error, which was
+to imagine that all rule and governance in Ireland should be carried
+on with a Machiavellian subtlety. The people, he had heard, were
+quick-witted; he must therefore out-manoeuvre them. Jobbery had been,
+he was told, the ruin of Ireland; he would show its inefficiency by
+the superior skill with which he could wield its weapon. To be sure
+his office was a very minor one, its influence very restricted, but Mr.
+Balfour was ambitious; he was a Viceroy's nephew; he had sat for months
+in the House, from which he had been turned out on a petition. He had
+therefore social advantages to build on, abilities to display, and
+wrongs to avenge; and as a man too late for the train speculates during
+the day how far on his road he might have been by this time or by that,
+so did Mr. Balfour continually keep reminding himself how, but for that
+confounded petition, he might now have been a Treasury this or a
+Board of Trade that,--a corporal, in fact, in that great army whose
+commissioned officers are amongst the highest in Europe.
+
+Let us now present him to our reader, as he lay back in his chair, and
+by a hand-bell summoned his messenger.
+
+“I say, Watkins, when Clancey calls about those trousers show him
+in, and send some one over to the packet-office about the
+phosphorus blacking; you know we are on the last jar of it. If the
+Solicitor-General should come--”
+
+“He is here, sir; he has been waiting these twenty minutes. I told him
+you were with his Excellency.”
+
+“So I was,--so I always am,” said he, throwing a half-smoked cigar into
+the fire. “Admit him.”
+
+A pale, care-worn, anxious-looking man, whose face was not without
+traces of annoyance at the length of time he had been kept waiting, now
+entered and sat down.
+
+“Just where we were yesterday, Pemberton,” said Balfour, as he rose and
+stood with his back to the fire, the tails of his gorgeous dressing-gown
+hanging over his arms. “Intractable as he ever was; he won't die, and he
+won't resign.”
+
+“His friends say he is perfectly willing to resign if you agree to his
+terms.”
+
+“That may be possible; the question is, What are his terms? Have you a
+precedent of a Chief Baron being raised to the peerage?”
+
+“It's not, as I understand, the peerage he insists on; he inclines to a
+moneyed arrangement.”
+
+“We are too poor, Pemberton,--we are too poor. There's a deep gap in our
+customs this quarter. It's reduction we must think of, not outlay.”
+
+“If the changes _are_ to be made,” said the other, with a tone of
+impatience, “I certainly ought to be told at once, or I shall have no
+time left for my canvass.”
+
+“An Irish borough, Pemberton,--an Irish borough requires so little,”
+ said Balfour, with a compassionate smile.
+
+“Such is not the opinion over here, sir,” said Pemberton, stiffly; “and
+I might even suggest some caution in saying it.”
+
+“Caution is the badge of all our tribe,” said Balfour, with a burlesque
+gravity. “By the way, Pemberton, his Excellency is greatly disappointed
+at the issue of these Cork trials; why did n't you hang these fellows?”
+
+“Juries can no more be coerced here than in England; they brought them
+in not guilty.”
+
+“We know all that, and we ask you why? There certainly was little room
+for doubt in the evidence.”
+
+“When you have lived longer in Ireland, Mr. Balfour, you will learn
+that there are other considerations in a trial than the testimony of the
+witnesses.”
+
+“That's exactly what I said to his Excellency; and I remarked, 'If
+Pemberton comes into the House, he must prepare for a sharp attack about
+these trials.'”
+
+“And it is exactly to ascertain if I am to enter Parliament that I have
+come here to-day,” said the other, angrily.
+
+“Bring me the grateful tidings that the Lord Chief Baron has joined his
+illustrious predecessors in that distinguished court, I 'll answer you
+in five minutes.”
+
+“Beattie declares he is better this morning. He says that he has in all
+probability years of life before him.”
+
+“There 's nothing so hard to kill as a judge, except it be an
+archbishop. I believe a sedentary life does it; they say if a fellow
+will sit still and never move he may live to any age.”
+
+Pemberton took an impatient turn up and down the room, and then wheeling
+about directly in front of Balfour, said, “If his Excellency knew,
+perhaps, that I do not want the House of Commons--”
+
+“Not want the House,--not wish to be in Parliament?”
+
+“Certainly not. If I enter the House, it is as a law-officer of the
+Crown; personally it is no object to me.”
+
+“I'll not tell him that, Pem. I'll keep your secret safe, for I tell you
+frankly it would ruin you to reveal it.”
+
+“It's no secret, sir; you may proclaim it,--you may publish it in the
+'Gazette,' But really we are wasting much valuable time here. It is now
+two o'clock, and I must go down to Court. I have only to say that if no
+arrangement be come to before this time to-morrow--” He stopped short.
+Another word might have committed him, but he pulled up in time.
+
+“Well, what then?” asked Balfour, with a half smile.
+
+“I have heard you pride yourself, Mr. Balfour,” said the other,
+recovering, “on your skill in nice negotiation; why not try what you
+could do with the Chief Baron?”
+
+“Are there women in the family?” said Balfour, caressing his moustache.
+
+“No; only his wife.”
+
+“I 've seen her,” said he, contemptuously.
+
+“He quarrelled with his only son, and has not spoken to him, I believe,
+for nigh thirty years, and the poor fellow is struggling on as a country
+doctor somewhere in the west.”
+
+“What if we were to propose to do something for him? Men are often not
+averse to see those assisted whom their own pride refuses to help.”
+
+“I scarcely suspect you 'll acquire his gratitude that way.”
+
+“We don't want his gratitude, we want his place. I declare I think the
+idea a good one. There's a thing now at the Cape, an inspectorship of
+something,--Hottentots or hospitals, I forget which. His Excellency
+asked to have the gift of it; what if we were to appoint this man?”
+
+“Make the crier of his Court a Commissioner in Chancery, and Baron
+Lendrick will be more obliged to you,” said Pem-berton, with a sneer.
+“He is about the least forgiving man I ever knew or heard of.”
+
+“Where is this son of his to be found?”
+
+“I saw him yesterday walking with Dr. Beattie. I have no doubt Beattie
+knows his address. But let me warn you once more against the inutility
+of the step you would take. I doubt if the old Judge would as much as
+thank you.”
+
+Balfour turned round to the glass and smiled sweetly at himself, as
+though to say that he had heard of some one who knew how to make these
+negotiations successful,--a fellow of infinite readiness, a clever
+fellow, but withal one whose good looks and distinguished air left even
+his talents in the background.
+
+“I think I 'll call and see the Chief Baron myself,” said he. “His
+Excellency sends twice a day to inquire, and I 'll take the opportunity
+to make him a visit,--that is, if he will receive me.”
+
+“It is doubtful. At all events, let me give you one hint for your
+guidance. Neither let drop Mr. Attorney's name nor mine in your
+conversation; avoid the mention of any one whose career might be
+influenced by the Baron's retirement; and talk of him less as a human
+being than as an institution that is destined to endure as long as the
+British constitution.”
+
+“I wish it was a woman--if it was only a woman I had to deal with, the
+whole affair might be deemed settled.”
+
+“If you should be able to do anything before the mail goes out to-night,
+perhaps you will inform me,” said Pem-berton, as he bowed and left
+the room. “And these are the men they send over here to administer
+the country!” muttered he, as he descended the stairs,--“such are the
+intelligences that are to rule Ireland! Was it Voltaire who said
+there was nothing so inscrutable in all the ways of Providence as the
+miserable smallness of those creatures to whom the destiny of nations
+was committed?”
+
+Ruminating over this, he hastened on to a _nisi prius_ case.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. A PUZZLING COMMISSION
+
+As Colonel Cave re-entered his quarters after morning parade in the
+Royal Barracks of Dublin, he found the following letter, which the post
+had just delivered. It was headed “Strictly Private,” with three dashes
+under the words.
+
+“Holt-Trafford.
+
+“My dear Colonel Cave,--Sir Hugh is confined to bed with a severe attack
+of gout,--the doctors call it flying gout. He suffers greatly, and his
+nerves are in a state of irritation that makes all attempt at writing
+impossible. This will be my apology for obtruding upon you, though,
+perhaps, the cause in which I write might serve for excuse. We are in
+the deepest anxiety about Lionel. You are already aware how heavily his
+extravagance has cost us. His play-debts amounted to above ten thousand
+pounds, and all the cleverness of Mr. Joel has not been able to
+compromise with the tradespeople for less than as much more; nor are
+we yet done with demands from various quarters. It is not, however, of
+these that I desire to speak. Your kind offer to take him into your
+own regiment, and exercise the watchful supervision of a parent, has
+relieved us of much anxiety, and his own sincere affection for you is
+the strongest assurance we can have that the step has been a wise one.
+Our present uneasiness has however a deeper source than mere pecuniary
+embarrassment. The boy--he is very little more than a boy in years--has
+fallen in love, and gravely writes to his father for consent that he may
+marry. I assure you the shock brought back all Sir Hugh's most severe
+symptoms; and his left eye was attacked with an inflammation such as Dr.
+Gole says he never saw equalled. So far as the incoherency of his letter
+will permit us to guess, the girl is a person in a very humble condition
+of life, the daughter of a country doctor, of course without family or
+fortune. That he made her acquaintance by an accident, as he informs
+us, is also a reason to suppose that they are not people in society. The
+name, as well as I can decipher it, is Lendrich or Hendrich,--neither
+very distinguished!
+
+“Now, my dear Colonel, even to a second son, such an alliance would be
+perfectly intolerable,--totally at variance with all his father's plans
+for him, and inconsistent with the station he should occupy. But there
+are other considerations,--too sad ones, too melancholy indeed to
+be spoken of, except where the best interests of a family are to be
+regarded, which press upon us here. The last accounts of George from
+Madeira leave us scarcely a hope. The climate, from which so much was
+expected, has done nothing. The season has been unhappily most severe,
+and the doctors agree in declaring that the malady has not yielded
+in any respect. You will see, therefore, what a change any day may
+accomplish in Lionel's prospects, and how doubly important it is that
+he should contract no ties inconsistent with a station of no mean
+importance. Not that these considerations would weigh with Lionel in the
+least: he was always headstrong, rash, and self-willed; and if he were,
+or fancied that he were, bound in honor to do a thing, I know well that
+all persuasions would be unavailing to prevent him. I cannot believe,
+however, that matters can have gone so far here. This acquaintanceship
+must be of the very shortest; and however designing and crafty such
+people may be, there will surely be some means of showing them
+that their designs are impracticable, and of a nature only to bring
+disappointment and disgrace upon themselves. That Sir Hugh would give
+his consent is totally out of the question,--a thing not to be thought
+of for a moment; indeed I may tell you in confidence that his first
+thought on reading L.'s letter was to carry out a project to which
+George had already consented, and by which the entail should be cut off,
+and our third son, Harry, in that case would inherit. This will show you
+to what extent his indignation would carry him.
+
+“Now what is to be done? for, really, it is but time lost in deploring
+when prompt action alone can save us. Do you know, or do you know any
+one who does know, these Hendrichs or Lendrichs--who are they, what are
+they? Are they people to whom I could write myself, or are they in that
+rank in life which would enable us to make some sort of compromise?
+Again, could you in anyway obtain L.'s confidence, and make him open his
+heart to you _first?_ This is the more essential, because the moment he
+hears of anything like coercion or pressure, his whole spirit will rise
+in resistance, and he will be totally unmanageable. You have perhaps
+more influence over him than any one else, and even your influence he
+would resent if he suspected any dominance.
+
+“I am madly impatient to hear what you will suggest. Will it be to see
+these people, to reason with them, to explain to them the fruitlessness
+of what they are doing? Will it be to talk to the girl herself?
+
+“My first thought was to send for Lionel, as his father was so ill, but
+on consideration I felt that a meeting between them might be the thing
+of all others to be avoided. Indeed, in Sir Hugh's present temper, I
+dare not think of the consequences.
+
+“Might it be advisable to get Lionel attached to some foreign station?
+If so, I am sure I could manage it--only, would he go? there 's the
+question,--would he go? I am writing in such distress of mind, and so
+hurriedly too, that I really do not know what I have set down and what I
+have omitted. I trust, however, there is enough of this sad case before
+you to enable you to counsel me, or, what is much better, act for me. I
+wish I could send you L.'s letter, but Sir Hugh has put it away, and I
+cannot lay my hand on it. Its purport, however, was to obtain authority
+from us to approach this girl's relations as a suitor, and to show that
+his intentions were known to and concurred in by his family. The only
+gleam of hope in the epistle was his saying, 'I have not the slightest
+reason to believe she would accept me, but the approval of my friends
+will certainly give me the best chance.'
+
+“Now, my dear Colonel, compassionate my anxiety, and write to me at
+once--something--anything. Write such a letter as Sir Hugh may see; and
+if you have anything secret or confidential, enclose it as a separate
+slip. Was it not unfortunate that we refused that Indian appointment for
+him? All this misery might have been averted. You may imagine how Sir
+Hugh feels this conduct the more bitterly, coming, as I may say, on the
+back of all his late indiscretions.
+
+“Remember, finally, happen what may, this project must not go on. It is
+a question of the boy's whole future and life. To defy his father is to
+disinherit himself; and it is not impossible that this might be the most
+effectual argument you could employ with these people who now seek to
+entangle him.
+
+“I have certainly no reason to love Ireland. It was there that my cousin
+Cornwallis married that dreadful creature who is now suing him for
+cruelty, and exposing the family throughout England.
+
+“Sir Hugh gave directions last week about lodging the purchase-money
+for his company, but he wrote a few lines to Cox's last night--to what
+purport I cannot say--not impossibly to countermand it. What affliction
+all this is!”
+
+As Colonel Cave read over this letter for a second time, he was
+not without misgivings about the even small share to which he had
+contributed in this difficulty. It was evidently during the short
+leave he had granted that this acquaintanceship had been formed; and
+Fossbrooke's companionship was the very last thing in the world to deter
+a young and ardent fellow from anything high-flown or romantic. “I ought
+never to have thrown them together,” muttered he, as he walked his room
+in doubt and deliberation.
+
+He rang his bell and sent for the adjutant. “Where 's Trafford?” asked
+he.
+
+“You gave him three days' leave yesterday, sir. He's gone down to that
+fishing-village where he went before.”
+
+“Confound the place! Send for him at once--telegraph. No--let us
+see--his leave is up to-morrow?”
+
+“The next day at ten he was to report.”
+
+“His father is ill,--an attack of gout,” muttered the Colonel, to give
+some color to his agitated manner. “But it is better, perhaps, not to
+alarm him. The seizure seems passing off.”
+
+“He said something about asking for a longer term; he wants a fortnight,
+I think. The season is just beginning now.”
+
+“He shall not have it, sir. Take good care to warn him not to apply. It
+will breed discontent in the regiment to see a young fellow who has not
+been a year with us obtain a leave every ten or fifteen days.”
+
+“If it were any other than Trafford, there would be plenty of grumbling.
+But he is such a favorite!”
+
+“I don't know that a worse accident could befall any man. Many a fine
+fellow has been taught selfishness by the over-estimate others have
+formed of him. See that you keep him to his duty, and that he is to look
+for no favoritism.”
+
+The Colonel did not well know why he said this, nor did he stop to think
+what might come of it. It smacked, to his mind, however, of something
+prompt, active, and energetic.
+
+His next move was to write a short note to Lady Trafford, acknowledging
+hers, and saying that, Lionel being absent,--he did not add
+where,--nothing could be done till he should see him. “To-morrow--next
+day at farthest--I will report progress. I cannot believe the case to be
+so serious as you suppose; at all events, count upon me.”
+
+“Stay!” cried he to the adjutant, who stood in the window awaiting
+further instructions; “on second thoughts, do telegraph. Say, 'Return at
+once.' This will prepare him for something.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. A BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE
+
+On the day after the picnic Sir Brook went by invitation to breakfast
+with the vicar.
+
+“When a man asks you to dinner,” said Fossbrooke, “he generally wants
+you to talk; when he asks you to breakfast, he wants to talk to you.”
+
+Whatever be the truth of this adage generally, it certainly-had its
+application in the present case. The vicar wanted very much to talk to
+Sir Brook.
+
+As they sat, therefore, over their coffee and devilled kidneys, chatting
+over the late excursion and hinting at another, the vicar suddenly said:
+“By the way, I want you to tell me something of the young fellow who
+was one of us yesterday. Tobin, our doctor here, who is a perfect
+commission-agent for scandal, says he is the greatest scamp going; that
+about eight or ten months ago the 'Times' was full of his exploits in
+bankruptcy; that his liabilities were tens of thousands,--assets
+_nil_. In a word, that, notwithstanding his frank, honest look, and his
+unaffected manner, he is the most accomplished scapegrace of the age.”
+
+“And how much of this do you believe?” asked Sir Brook, as he helped
+himself to coffee.
+
+“That is not so easy to reply to; but I tell you, if you ask me, that I
+'d rather not believe one word of it.”
+
+“Nor need you. His Colonel told me something about the young fellow's
+difficulties; he himself related the rest. He went most recklessly into
+debt; betted largely on races, and lost; lent freely, and lost; raised
+at ruinous interest, and renewed at still more ruinous; but his father
+has paid every shilling of it out of that fortune which one day was to
+have come to him, so that Lionel's thirty thousand pounds is now about
+eight thousand. I have put the whole story into the fewest possible
+words, but that's the substance of it.”
+
+“And has it cured him of extravagance?”
+
+“Of course it has not. How should it? _You_ have lived some more years
+in the world than he has, and I a good many more than _you_, and
+will you tell me that time has cured either of us of any of our old
+shortcomings? _Non sum quails eram_ means, I can't be as wild as I used
+to be.”
+
+“No, no; I won't agree to that. I protest most strongly against the
+doctrine. Many men are wiser through experience, and, consequently,
+better.”
+
+“I sincerely believe I knew the world better at four-and-twenty than I
+know it now. The reason why we are less often deceived in after than
+in early life is not that we are more crafty or more keen-eyed. It is
+simply because we risk less. Let us hazard as much at sixty as we once
+did at six-and-twenty, and we 'll lose as heavily.”
+
+The vicar paused a few moments over the other's words, and then said,
+“To come back to this young man, I half suspect he has formed an
+attachment to Lucy, and that he is doing his utmost to succeed in her
+favor.”
+
+“And is there anything wrong in that, doctor?”
+
+“Not positively wrong; but there is what may lead to a great deal
+of unhappiness. Who is to say how Trafford's family would like the
+connection? Who is to answer for Lendrick's approval of Trafford?”
+
+“You induce me to make a confidence I have no right to impart; but I
+rely so implicitly on your discretion. I will tell you what was
+intrusted to me as a secret: Trafford has already written to his father
+to ask his consent.”
+
+“Without speaking to Lendrick? without even being sure of Lucy's?”
+
+“Yes, without knowing anything of either; but on my advice he has first
+asked his father's permission to pay his addresses to the young lady.
+His position with his family is peculiar; he is a younger son, but
+not exactly as free as most younger sons feel to act for themselves. I
+cannot now explain this more fully, but it is enough if you understand
+that he is entirely dependent on his father. When I came to know this,
+and when I saw that he was becoming desperately in love, I insisted on
+this appeal to his friends before he either entangled Lucy in a promise,
+or even made any declaration himself. He showed me the letter before
+he posted it. It was all I could wish. It is not a very easy task for
+a young fellow to tell his father he 's in love; but he, in the very
+frankness of his nature, acquitted himself well and manfully.”
+
+“And what answer has he received?”
+
+“None as yet. Two posts have passed. He might have heard through
+either of them; but no letter has come, and he is feverishly uneasy and
+anxious.”
+
+The vicar was silent, but a grave motion of his head implied doubt and
+fear.
+
+“Yes,” said Sir Brook, answering the gesture,--“yes, I agree with you.
+The Traffords are great folk in their own country. Trafford was a strong
+place in Saxon times. They have pride enough for all this blood, and
+wealth enough for both pride and blood.”
+
+“They 'd find their match in Lendrick, quiet and simple as he seems,”
+ said the vicar.
+
+“Which makes the matter worse. Who is to give way? Who is to _céder le
+pas?_”
+
+“I am not so sure I should have advised that letter. I am inclined to
+think I would have counselled more time, more consideration. Fathers and
+mothers are prudently averse to these loves at first sight, and they are
+merciless in dealing with what they deem a mere passing sentiment.”
+
+“Better that than suffer him to engage the girl's affections, and then
+learn that he must either desert her or marry her against the feeling
+of his family. Let us have a stroll in the garden. I have made you one
+confidence; I will now make you another.”
+
+They lit their cigars, and strolled out into a long alley fenced on one
+side by a tall dense hedge of laurels, and flanked on the other by a low
+wall, over which the view took in the wide reach of the river and the
+distant mountains of Scariff and Meelick.
+
+“Was not that where we picnicked yesterday?” asked Sir Brook, pointing
+to an island in the distance.
+
+“No; you cannot see Holy Island from this.”
+
+Sir Brook smoked on for some minutes without a word; at last, with a
+sort of abruptness, he said, “She was so like her, not only in face and
+figure, but her manner; the very tone of her voice was like; and then
+that half-caressing, half-timid way she has in conversation, and, more
+than all, the sly quietness with which she caps you when you fancy that
+the smart success is all your own.”
+
+“Of whom are you speaking?”
+
+“Of another Lucy,” said Sir Brook, with a deep melancholy. “Heaven
+grant that the resemblance follow them not in their lives as in their
+features! It was that likeness, however, which first attracted me
+towards Miss Lendrick. The first moment I saw her it overcame me; as I
+grew to know her better, it almost confused me, and made me jumble in
+your hearing things of long ago with the present. Time and space were
+both forgotten, and I found my mind straying away to scenes in the
+Himalaya with those I shall never see more. It was thus that, one day
+carried away by this delusion, I chanced to call her Lucy, and she
+laughingly begged me not to retract it, but so to call her always.” For
+some minutes he was silent, and then resumed: “I don't know if you ever
+heard of a Colonel Frank Dillon, who served on Napier's staff in Scinde.
+Fiery Frank was his nickname among his comrades, but it only applied
+to him on the field of battle, and with an enemy in front. Then he was
+indeed fiery,--the excitement rose to almost madness, and led him to
+acts of almost incredible daring. At Meanee he was nearly cut to pieces,
+and as he lay wounded, and to all appearance dying, he received a
+lance-wound through the chest that the surgeon declared must prove
+fatal. He lived, however, for eight months after,--he lived long enough
+to reach the Himalayas, where his daughter, an only child, joined him
+from England. On her way out she became acquainted with a young officer,
+who was coming out as aide-de-camp to the Governor-General. They were
+constantly thrown together on the journey, and his attentions to her
+soon showed the sentiments he had conceived for her. In fact, very soon
+after Lucy had joined her father, Captain Sewell appeared 'in the Hills'
+to make a formal demand of her in marriage.
+
+“I was there at the time, and I remember well poor Dillon's expression
+of disappointment after the first meeting with him. His daughter's
+enthusiastic description of his looks, his manner, his abilities, his
+qualities generally, had perhaps prepared him for too much. Indeed,
+Lucy's own intense admiration for the soldierlike character of her
+father's features assisted the mistake; for, as Dillon said, 'There must
+be a dash of the _sabreur_ in the fellow that will win Lucy.' I came
+into Dillon's room immediately after the first interview. The instant
+I caught his eye I read what was going on in his brain. 'Sit down here,
+Brook,' cried he, 'sit in my chair here;' and he arose painfully as he
+spoke. 'I'll show you the man.' With this he hobbled over to a table
+where his cap lay, and, placing it rakishly on one side of his head, he
+stuck his eyeglass in one eye, and, with a hand in his trousers-pocket,
+lounged forward towards where I sat, saying, 'How d' ye do, Colonel?
+Wound doing better, I hope. The breezy climate up here soon set you up.'
+'Familiar enough this, sir,' cried Dillon, in his own stern voice; 'but
+without time to breathe, as it were,--before almost I had exchanged
+a greeting with him,--he entered upon the object of his journey. I
+scarcely heard a word he said; I knew its purport,--I could mark the
+theme,--but no more. It was not the fellow himself that filled my mind;
+my whole thoughts were upon my daughter, and I went on repeating to
+myself, “Good heavens! is this Lucy's choice? Am I in a trance? Is
+it this contemptible cur (for he was a cur, sir) that has won the
+affections of my darling, high-hearted, generous girl? Is the romantic
+spirit that I have so loved to see in her to bear no better fruit than
+this? Does the fellow realize to her mind the hero that fills men's
+thoughts?” I was so overcome, so excited, so confused, Brook, that I
+begged him to leave me for a while, that one of my attacks of pain was
+coming on, and that I should not be able to converse farther He said
+something about trying one of his cheroots,--some impertinence or other,
+I forget what; but he left me, and I, who never knew a touch of girlish
+weakness in my life, who when a child had no mood of softness in my
+nature,--I felt the tears trickling along my cheeks, and my eyes dimmed
+with them.' My poor friend,” continued Fossbrooke, “could not go on; his
+emotions mastered him, and he sat with his head buried between his hands
+and in silence. At last he said, 'She 'll not give him up, Brook; I have
+spoken to her,--she actually loves him. Good heavens!' he cried, 'how
+little do we know about our children's hearts! how far astray are we as
+to the natures that have grown up beside us, imbibing, as we thought,
+our hopes, our wishes, and our prejudices! We awake some day to discover
+that some other influence has crept in to undo our teachings, and
+that the fidelity on which we would have staked our lives has changed
+allegiance.'
+
+“He talked to me long in this strain, and I saw that the effects of this
+blow to all his hopes had made themselves deeply felt on his chance of
+recovery. It only needed a great shock to depress him to make his case
+hopeless. Within two months after his daughter's arrival he was no more.
+
+“I became Lucy's guardian. Poor Dillon gave me the entire control over
+her future fortune, and left me to occupy towards her the place he had
+himself held. I believe that next to her father I held the best place
+in her affections,--of such affections, I mean, as are accorded to
+a parent. I was her godfather, and from her earliest infancy she had
+learned to love me. The reserve--it was positive coldness--with which
+Dillon had always treated Sewell had caused a certain distance, for the
+first time in their lives, between the father and daughter. She thought,
+naturally enough, that her father was unjust; that, unaccustomed to the
+new tone of manners which had grown up amongst young men,--their greater
+ease, their less rigid observance of ceremonial, their more liberal
+self-indulgence,--he was unfairly severe upon her lover. She was
+annoyed, too, that Sewells attempts to conciliate the old man should
+have turned out such complete failures. But none of these prejudices
+extended to me, and she counted much on the good understanding that she
+expected to find grow up between us.
+
+“If I could have prevented the marriage, I would. I learned many things
+of the man that I disliked. There is no worse sign of a man than to be
+at the same time a man of pleasure and friendless. These he was,--he was
+foremost in every plan of amusement and dissipation, and yet none liked
+him. Vain fellows get quizzed for their vanity, and selfish men laughed
+at for their selfishness, and close men for their avarice; but there
+is a combination of vanity, egotism, small craftiness, and
+self-preservation in certain fellows that is totally repugnant to all
+companionship. Their lives are a series of petty successes, not owing
+to any superior ability or greater boldness of daring, but to a studious
+outlook for small opportunities. They are ever alive to know the 'right
+man,' to be invited to the 'right house,' to say the 'right thing.'
+Never linked with whatever is in disgrace or misfortune, they are always
+found backing the winning horse, if not riding him.
+
+“Such men as these, so long as the world goes well with them, and events
+turn out fortunately, are regarded simply as sharp, shrewd fellows,
+with a keen eye to their own interests. When, however, the weight of
+any misfortune comes, when the time arrives that they have to bear up
+against the hard pressure of life, these fellows come forth in their
+true colors, swindlers and cheats.
+
+“Such was he. Finding that I was determined to settle the small fortune
+her father had left her inalienably on herself, he defeated me by a
+private marriage. He then launched out into a life of extravagance to
+which their means bore no proportion. I was a rich man in those days,
+and knew nothing better to do with my money than assist the daughter of
+my oldest friend. The gallant Captain did not balk my good intentions.
+He first accepted, he then borrowed, and last of all he forged my name.
+I paid the bills and saved him, not for his sake, I need not tell you,
+but for hers, who threw herself at my feet, and implored me not to see
+them ruined. Even this act of hers he turned to profit. He wrote to
+me to say that he knew his wife had been to my house, that he had long
+nurtured suspicions against me,--I that was many years older than her
+own father,--that for the future he desired all acquaintance should
+cease between us, and that I should not again cross his threshold.
+
+“By what persuasions or by what menaces he led his wife to the step, I
+do not know; but she passed me when we met without a recognition. This
+was the hardest blow of all. I tried to write her a letter; but after a
+score of attempts I gave it up, and left the place.
+
+“I never saw her for eight years. I wish I had not seen her then. I
+am an old, hardened man of the world, one whom life has taught all its
+lessons to in the sternest fashion. I have been so baffled and beaten,
+and thrown back by all my attempts to think well of the world, that
+nothing short of a dogged resolution not to desert my colors has rescued
+me from a cold misanthropy; and yet, till I saw, I did not believe
+there was a new pang of misery my heart had not tasted. What? it is
+incredible,--surely that is not she who once was Lucy Dillon,--that
+bold-faced woman with lustrous eyes and rouged cheeks,--brilliant,
+indeed, and beautiful, but not the beauty that is allied to the
+thought of virtue,--whose every look is a wile, whose every action is
+entanglement. She was leaning on a great man's arm, and in the smile she
+gave him told me how she knew to purchase such distinctions. He noticed
+me, and shook my hand as I passed. I heard him tell her who I was; and
+I heard her say that I had been a hanger-on, a sort of dependant of her
+father's, but she never liked me! I tried to laugh, but the pain was too
+deep. I came away, and saw her no more.”
+
+He ceased speaking, and for some time they walked along side by side
+without a word. At last he broke out: “Don't believe the people who say
+that men are taught by anything they experience in life. Outwardly they
+may affect it. They may assume this or that manner. The heart cannot
+play the hypocrite, and no frequency of disaster diminishes the smart.
+The wondrous resemblance Miss Lendrick bears to Lucy Dillon renews to my
+memory the bright days of her early beauty, when her poor father would
+call her to sit down at his feet and read to him, that he might gaze
+at will on her, weaving whole histories of future happiness and joy for
+her. 'Is it not like sunshine in the room to see her, Brook?' would he
+whisper to me. 'I only heard her voice as she passed under my window
+this morning, and I forgot some dark thought that was troubling me.'
+And there was no exaggeration in this. The sweet music of her tones
+“vibrated so softly on the ear, they soothed the sense, just as we feel
+soothed by the gentle ripple of a stream.
+
+“All these times come back to me since I have been here, and I cannot
+tell you how the very sorrow that is associated with them has its power
+over me. Every one knows with what attachment the heart will cling to
+some little spot in a far-away land that reminds one of a loved place at
+home,--how we delight to bring back old memories, and how we even like
+to name old names, to cheat ourselves back into the past. So it is that
+I feel when I see this girl. The other Lucy was once as my daughter; so,
+too, do I regard her, and with this comes that dreadful sorrow I have
+told you of, giving my interest in her an intensity unspeakable. When
+I saw Trafford's attention to her, the only thing I thought of was
+how unlike he was to him who won the other Lucy. His frank, unaffected
+bearing, his fine, manly trustfulness, the very opposite to the other's
+qualities, made me his friend at once. When I say friend, I mean
+well-wisher, for my friendship now bears no other fruit. Time was when
+it was otherwise.”
+
+“What is it, William?” cried the vicar, as his servant came hurriedly
+forward.
+
+“There 's a gentleman in the drawing-room, sir, wants to see Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke.”
+
+“Have I your leave?” said the old man, bowing low. “I 'll join you here
+immediately.”
+
+Within a few moments he was back again. “It was Trafford. He has just
+got a telegram to call him to his regiment. He suspects something has
+gone wrong; and seeing his agitation, I offered to go back with him. We
+start within an hour.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN
+
+The vicar having some business to transact in Limerick, agreed to
+go that far with Sir Brook and Trafford, and accompanied them to the
+railroad to see them off.
+
+A down train from Dublin arrived as they were waiting, and a passenger,
+descending, hastily hurried after the vicar, and seized his hand. The
+vicar, in evident delight, forgot his other friends for a moment,
+and became deeply interested in the new-comer. “We must say good-bye,
+doctor,” said Fossbrooke; “here comes our train.”
+
+“A thousand pardons, my dear Sir Brook. The unlooked-for arrival of my
+friend here--but I believe you don't know him. Lendrick, come here,
+I want to present you to Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Captain Trafford, Dr.
+Lendrick.”
+
+“I hope these gentlemen are not departing,” said Lendrick, with the
+constraint of a bashful man.
+
+“It is our misfortune to do so,” said Sir Brook; “but I have passed too
+many happy hours in this neighborhood not to come back to it as soon as
+I can.”
+
+“I hope we shall see you. I hope I may have an opportunity of thanking
+you, Sir Brook.”
+
+“Dublin! Dublin! Dublin! get in, gentlemen: first class, this way, sir,”
+ screamed a guard, amidst a thundering rumble, a scream, and a hiss. All
+other words were drowned, and with a cordial shake-hands the new friends
+parted.
+
+“Is the younger man his son?” asked Lendrick; “I did not catch the
+name?”
+
+“No; he's Trafford, a son of Sir Hugh Trafford,--a Lincolnshire man,
+isn't he?”
+
+“I don't know. It was of the other I was thinking. I felt it so strange
+to see a man of whom when a boy I used to hear so much. I have an old
+print somewhere of two over-dressed 'Bloods,' as they were called in
+those days, with immense whiskers, styled 'Fossy and Fussy,' meaning Sir
+Brook and the Baron Geramb, a German friend and follower of the Prince.”
+
+“I suspect a good deal changed since that day, in person as well as
+purse,” said the vicar, sadly.
+
+“Indeed! I heard of his having inherited some immense fortune.”
+
+“So he did, and squandered every shilling of it.”
+
+“And the chicks are well, you tell me?” said Lendrick, whose voice
+softened as he talked of home and his children.
+
+“Could n't be better. We had a little picnic on Holy Island yesterday,
+and only wanted yourself to have been perfectly happy. Lucy was for
+refusing at first.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Some notion she had that you would n't like it. Some idea about not
+doing in your absence anything that was not usual when you are here.”
+
+“She is such a true girl, so loyal,” said Lendrick, proudly.
+
+“Well, I take the treason on my shoulders. I made her come. It was a
+delightful day, and we drank your health in as good a glass of Madeira
+as ever ripened in the sun. Now for your own news?”
+
+“First let us get on the road. I am impatient to be back at home again.
+Have you your car here?”
+
+“All is ready, and waiting for you at the gate.”
+
+As they drove briskly along, Lendrick gave the vicar a detailed account
+of his visit to Dublin. Passing over the first days, of which the reader
+already has heard something, we take up the story from the day on which
+Lendrick learned that his father would see him.
+
+“My mind was so full of myself, doctor,” said he, “of all the
+consequences which had followed from my father's anger with me, that I
+had no thought of anything else till I entered the room where he was.
+Then, however, as I saw him propped up with pillows in a deep chair,
+his face pale, his eyes colorless, and his head swathed up in a bandage
+after leeching, my heart sickened, alike with sorrow and shame at my
+great selfishness.
+
+“I had been warned by Beattie on no account to let any show of feeling
+or emotion escape me, to be as cool and collected as possible, and in
+fact, he said, to behave as though I had seen him the day before.
+
+“'Leave the room, Poynder,' said he to his man, 'and suffer no one to
+knock at the door--mind, not even to knock--till I ring my bell.' He
+waited till the man withdrew, and then in a very gentle voice said, 'How
+are you, Tom? I can't give you my right hand,--the rebellious member
+has ceased to know me!' I thought I should choke as the words met me; I
+don't remember what I said, but I took my chair and sat down beside him.
+
+“'I thought you might have been too much agitated, Tom, but otherwise
+I should have wished to have had your advice along with Beattie. I
+believe, on the whole, however, he has treated me well.'
+
+“I assured him that none could have done more skilfully.
+
+“The skill of the doctor with an old patient is the skill of an
+architect with an old wall. He must not breach it, or it will tumble to
+pieces.
+
+“'Beattie is very able, sir,' said I.
+
+“'No man is able,' replied he, quickly, 'when the question is to repair
+the wastes of time and years. Draw that curtain, and let me look at
+you. No; stand yonder, where the light is stronger. What! is it my eyes
+deceive me,--is your hair white?'
+
+“'It has been so eight years, sir.'
+
+“'And I had not a gray hair till my seventy-second year,--not one. I
+told Beattie, t' other day, that the race of the strong was dying out.
+Good heavens, how old you look! Would any one believe in seeing us that
+you could be my son?'
+
+“'I feel perhaps even more than I look it, sir.'
+
+“'I could swear you did. You are the very stamp of those fellows who
+plead guilty--“Guilty, my Lord; we throw ourselves on the mercy of
+the court.” I don't know how the great judgment-seat regards these
+pleas,--with _me_ they meet only scorn. Give me the man who says, “Try
+me, test me.” Drop that curtain, and draw the screen across the fire.
+Speak lower, too, my dear,' said he, in a weak soft voice; 'you suffer
+yourself to grow excited, and you excite me.'
+
+“'I will be more cautious, sir,' said I.
+
+“'What are these drops he is giving me? They have an acrid sweet taste.'
+
+“'Aconite, sir; a weak solution.'
+
+“'They say that our laws never forgot feudalism, but I declare I believe
+medicine has never been able to ignore alchemy: drop me out twenty, I
+see that your hand does not shake. Strange thought, is it not, to feel
+that a little phial like that could make a new Baron of the Exchequer?
+You have heard, I suppose, of the attempts--the indecent attempts--to
+induce me to resign. You have heard what they say of my age. They quote
+the registry of my baptism, as though it were the date of a conviction.
+I have yet to learn that the years a man has devoted to his country's
+service are counts in the indictment against his character. Age has been
+less merciful to me than to my fellows,--it has neither made me deaf
+to rancor nor blind to ingratitude. I told the Lord-Lieutenant so
+yesterday.'
+
+“'You saw him then, sir?' asked I.
+
+“'Yes, he was gracious enough to call here; he sent his secretary to ask
+if I would receive a visit from him. I thought that a little more tact
+might have been expected from a man in his station,--it is the common
+gift of those in high places. I perceive,' added he, after a pause, 'you
+don't see what I mean. It is this: royalties, or mock royalties, for
+they are the same in this, condescend to these visits as deathbed
+attentions. They come to us with their courtesies as the priest comes
+with his holy cruet, only when they have the assurance that we are
+beyond recovery. His Excellency ought to have felt that the man to
+whom he proposed this attention was not one to misunderstand its
+significance.'
+
+“'Did he remain long, sir?'
+
+“'Two hours and forty minutes. I measured it by my watch.'
+
+“'Was the fatigue not too much for you?'
+
+“'Of course it was; I fainted before he got to his carriage. He twice
+rose to go away, but on each occasion I had something to say that
+induced him to sit down again. It was the whole case of Ireland we
+reviewed,--that is, I did. I deployed the six millions before him,
+and he took the salute. Yes, sir, education, religious animosities,
+land-tenure, drainage, emigration, secret societies, the rebel priest
+and the intolerant parson, even nationality and mendicant insolence, all
+marched past, and he took the salute! “And now, my Lord,” said I, “it is
+the man who tells you these things, who has the courage to tell and the
+ability to display them, and it is this man for whose retirement your
+Ex-lency is so eager, that you have actually deigned to make him a
+visit, that he may carry away into the next world, perhaps, a pleasing
+memory of this; it is this man, I say, whom you propose to replace--and
+by what, my Lord, and by whom? Will a mere lawyer, will any amount of
+_nisi prius_ craft or precedent, give you the qualities you need on that
+bench, or that you need, sadly need, at this council-board? Go back, my
+Lord, and tell your colleagues of the Cabinet that Providence is more
+merciful than a Premier, and that the same overruling hand that has
+sustained me through this trial will uphold me, I trust, for years to
+serve my country, and save it for some time longer from your blundering
+legislation.”
+
+“'He stood up, sir, like a prisoner when under sentence; he stood up,
+sir, and as he bowed, I waved my adieu to him as though saying, You
+have heard me, and you are not to carry away from this place a hope, the
+faintest, that any change will come over the determination I have this
+day declared.
+
+“'He went away, and I fainted. The exertion was too long sustained,
+too much for me. I believe, after all,' added he, with a smile, 'his
+Excellency bore it very little better. He told the Archbishop the same
+evening that he'd not go through another such morning for “the garter.”
+ Men in his station hear so little of truth that it revolts them like
+coarse diet. They 'd rather abstain altogether till forced by actual
+hunger to touch it. When they come to me, however, it is the only fare
+they will find before them.'
+
+“There was a long pause after this,” continued Lendrick. “I saw that
+the theme had greatly excited him, and I forbore to say a word, lest
+he should be led to resume it. 'Too old for the bench!' burst he out
+suddenly; 'my Lord, there are men who are never too old, as there are
+those who are never too young. The oak is but a sapling when the pine is
+in decay. Is there that glut of intellect just now in England, are we
+so surfeited with ability that, to make room for the coming men, we, who
+have made our mark on the age, must retire into obscurity?' He tried
+to rise from his seat; his face was flushed, and his eyes flashing; he
+evidently forgot where he was, and with whom, for he sank back with
+a faint sigh, and said, 'Let us talk of it no more. Let us think of
+something else. Indeed, it was to talk of something else I desired to
+see you.' He went on, then, to say that he wished something could be
+done for me. His own means were, he said, sadly crippled; he spoke
+bitterly, resentfully, I thought. 'It is too long a story to enter on,
+and were it briefer, too disagreeable a one,' added he. 'I ought to be a
+rich man, and I am poor; I should be powerful, and I have no influence.
+All has gone ill with me.' After a silence, he continued, 'They have
+a place to offer you: the inspectorship, I think they call it, of
+hospitals at the Cape; it is worth, altogether, nigh a thousand a year,
+a thing not to be refused.'
+
+“'The offer could only be made in compliment to you, sir; and if my
+acceptance were to compromise your position--'
+
+“'Compromise _me!_' broke he in. 'I 'll take care it shall not. No man
+need instruct me in the art of self-defence, sir. Accept at once.'
+
+“'I will do whatever you desire, sir,' was my answer.
+
+“'Go out there yourself, alone,--at first, I mean. Let your boy continue
+his college career; the girl shall come to me.'
+
+“'I have never been separated from my children, sir,' said I, almost
+trembling with anxiety.
+
+“'Such separations are bearable,' added he, 'when it is duty dictates
+them, not disobedience.'
+
+“He fixed his eyes sternly on me, and I trembled as I thought that the
+long score of years was at last come to the reckoning. He did not dwell
+on the theme, however, but in a tone of much gentler meaning, went
+on: 'It will be an act of mercy to let me see a loving face, to hear a
+tender voice. Your boy would be too rough for me.'
+
+“'You would like him, sir. He is thoroughly truthful and honest.'
+
+“'So he may, and yet be self-willed, be noisy, be over-redolent of that
+youth which age resents like outrage. Give me the girl, Tom; let her
+come here, and bestow some of those loving graces on the last hours of
+my life her looks show she should be rich in. For your sake she will be
+kind to me. Who knows what charm there may be in gentleness, even to
+a tiger-nature like mine? Ask her, at least, if she will make the
+sacrifice.'
+
+“I knew not what to answer. If I could not endure the thought of
+parting from Lucy, yet it seemed equally impossible to refuse his
+entreaty,--old, friendless, and deserted as he was. I felt, besides,
+that my only hope of a real reconciliation with him lay through this
+road; deny him this, and it was clear he would never see me more. He
+said, too, it should only be for a season. I was to see how the place,
+the climate, suited for a residence. In a word, every possible argument
+to reconcile me to the project rushed to my mind, and I at last said,
+'Lucy shall decide, sir. I will set out for home at once, and you shall
+have her own answer.'
+
+“'Uninfluenced, sir,' cried he,--'mind that. If influence were to be
+used, I could perhaps tell her what might decide her at once; but I
+would not that pity should plead for me, till she should have seen if
+I be worth compassion! There is but one argument I will permit in my
+favor,--tell her that her picture has been my pleasantest companion
+these three long days. There it lies, always before me. Go now, and let
+me hear from you as soon as may be.' I arose, but somehow my agitation,
+do what I would, mastered me. It was so long since we had met! All the
+sorrows the long estrangement had cost me came to my mind, together
+with little touches of his kindness in long-past years, and I could not
+speak. 'Poor Tom! poor Tom!' said he, drawing me towards him; and he
+kissed me.”
+
+As Lendrick said this, emotion overcame him, and he covered his face
+with his hands, and sobbed bitterly. More than a mile of road was
+traversed before a word passed between them. “There they are, doctor!
+There 's Tom, there's Lucy! They are coming to meet me,” cried he.
+“Good-bye, doctor; you 'll forgive me, I know,--goodbye;” and he sprang
+off the car as he spoke, while the vicar, respecting the sacredness of
+the joy, wheeled his horse round, and drove back towards the town.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK
+
+A few minutes after the Adjutant had informed Colonel Cave that
+Lieutenant Traflford had reported himself, Sir Brook entered the
+Colonel's quarters, eager to know what was the reason of the sudden
+recall of Traflford, and whether the regiment had been unexpectedly
+ordered for foreign service.
+
+“No, no,” said Cave, in some confusion. “We have had our turn of India
+and the Cape; they can't send us away again for some time. It was purely
+personal; it was, I may say, a private reason. You know,” added he, with
+a slight smile, “I am acting as a sort of guardian to Trafford just now.
+His family sent him over to me, as to a reformatory.”
+
+“From everything I have seen of him, your office will be an easy one.”
+
+“Well, I suspect that, so far as mere wildness goes,--extravagance and
+that sort of thing,--he has had enough of it; but there are mistakes
+that a young fellow may make in life--mistakes in judgment--which will
+damage him more irreparably than all his derelictions against morality.”
+
+“That I deny,--totally, entirely deny. I know what you mean,--that is,
+I think I know what you mean; and if I guess aright, I am distinctly at
+issue with you on this matter.”
+
+“Perhaps I could convince you, notwithstanding. Here's a letter which
+I have no right to show you; it is marked 'Strictly confidential and
+private.' You shall read it,--nay, you must read it,--because you
+are exactly the man to be able to give advice on the matter. You like
+Traflford, and wish him well. Read that over carefully, and tell me what
+you would counsel.”
+
+Fossbrooke took out his spectacles, and, having seated himself
+comfortably, with his back to the light, began in leisurely fashion to
+peruse the letter. “It's his mother who writes,” said he, turning to
+the signature,--“one of the most worldly women I ever met. She was a
+Lascelles. Don't you know how she married Trafford?”
+
+“I don't remember, if I ever heard.”
+
+“It was her sister that Trafford wanted to marry, but she was ambitious
+to be a peeress; and as Bradbrook was in love with her, she told Sir
+Hugh, 'I have got a sister so like me nobody can distinguish between us.
+She 'd make an excellent wife for you. She rides far better than me, and
+she is n't half so extravagant. I 'll send for her.' She did so, and the
+whole thing was settled in a week.”
+
+“They have lived very happily together.”
+
+“Of course they have. They didn't 'go in,' as the speculators say, for
+enormous profits; they realized very fairly, and were satisfied. I wish
+her handwriting had been more cared for. What's this she says here about
+a subscription?”
+
+“That 's supervision,--the supervision of a parent.”
+
+“Supervision of a fiddlestick! the fellow is six feet one inch high,
+and seven-and-twenty years of age; he's quite beyond supervision. Ah!
+brought back all his father's gout, has he? When will people begin to
+admit that their own tempers have something to say to their maladies?
+I curse the cook who made the mulligatawny, but I forget that I ate two
+platefuls of it. So it's the doctor's daughter she objects to. I wish
+she saw her. I wish _you_ saw her, Cave. You are an old frequenter of
+courts and drawing-rooms. I tell you you have seen nothing like this
+doctor's daughter since Laura Bedingfield was presented, and that was
+before your day.”
+
+“Every one has heard of the Beauty Bedingfield; but she was my mother's
+contemporary.”
+
+“Well, sir, her successors have not eclipsed her! This doctor's
+daughter, as your correspondent calls her, is the only rival of her that
+I have ever seen. As to wit and accomplishments, Laura could not compete
+with Lucy Lendrick.”
+
+“You know her, then?” asked the Colonel; and then added, “Tell me
+something about the family.”
+
+“With your leave, I will finish this letter first. Ah! here we have the
+whole secret. Lionel Trafford is likely to be that precious prize, an
+eldest son. Who could have thought that the law of entail could sway a
+mother's affections? 'Contract no ties inconsistent with his station.'
+This begins to be intolerable, Cave. I don't think I can go on.”
+
+“Yes, yes; read it through.”
+
+“She asks you if you know any one who knows these Hendrichs or
+Lendrichs; tell her that you do; tell her that your friend is one of
+those men who have seen a good deal of life, heard more, too, than
+he has seen. She will understand that, and that his name is Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, who, if needed, will think nothing of a journey over to
+Lincolnshire to afford her all the information she could wish for.
+Say this, Cave, and take my word for it, she will put very few more
+questions to you.”
+
+“That would be to avow I had already consulted with you. No, no; I must
+not do that.”
+
+“The wind-up of the epistle is charming. 'I have certainly no reason to
+love Ireland.' Poor Ireland! here is another infliction upon you. Let us
+hope you may never come to know that Lady Trafford cannot love you.”
+
+“Come, come, Fossbrooke, be just, be fair; there is nothing so very
+unreasonable in the anxiety of a mother that her son, who will have a
+good name and a large estate, should not share them both with a person
+beneath him.”
+
+“Why must she assume that this is the case,--why take it for granted
+that this girl must be beneath him? I tell you, sir, if a prince of the
+blood had fallen in love with her, it would be a reason to repeal the
+Royal Marriage Act.”
+
+“I declare, Fossbrooke, I shall begin to suspect that your own heart has
+not escaped scathless,” said Cave, laughing.
+
+The old man's face became crimson, but not with anger. As suddenly it
+grew pale; and in a voice of deep agitation he said, “When an old man
+like myself lays his homage at her feet, it is not hard to believe how a
+young man might love her.”
+
+“How did you come to make this acquaintance?” said Cave, anxious to turn
+the conversation into a more familiar channel.
+
+“We chanced to fail in with her brother on the river. We found him
+struggling with a fish far too large for his tackle, and which at last
+smashed his rod and got away. He showed not alone that he was a perfect
+angler, but that he was a fine-tempered fellow, who accepted his defeat
+manfully and well; he had even a good word for his enemy, sir, and
+it was that which attracted me. Trafford and he, young-men-like, soon
+understood each other; he came into our boat, lunched with us, and asked
+us home with him to tea. There 's the whole story. As to the intimacy
+that followed, it was mostly my own doing. I own to you I never so much
+as suspected that Trafford was smitten by her; he was always with her
+brother, scarcely at all in her company; and when he came to tell me he
+was in love, I asked him how he caught the malady, for I never saw him
+near the infection. Once that I knew of the matter, however, I made him
+write home to his family.”
+
+“It was by your advice, then, that he wrote that letter?”
+
+“Certainly; I not only advised, I insisted on it,--I read it, too,
+before it was sent off. It was such a letter as, if I had been the young
+fellow's father, would have made me prouder than to hear he had got the
+thanks of Parliament.”
+
+“You and I, Fossbrooke, are old bachelors; we are scarcely able to say
+what we should have done if we had had sons.”
+
+“I am inclined to believe it would have made us better, not worse,” said
+Fossbrooke, gravely.
+
+“At all events, as it was at your instigation this letter was written,
+I can't well suggest your name as an impartial person in the
+transaction,--I mean, as one who can be referred to for advice or
+information.”
+
+“Don't do so, sir, or I shall be tempted to say more than may be
+prudent. Have you never noticed, Cave, the effect that a doctor's
+presence produces in the society of those who usually consult him,--the
+reserve,--the awkwardness,--the constraint,--the apologetic tone for
+this or that little indiscretion,--the sitting in the draught or the
+extra glass of sherry? So is it, but in a far stronger degree, when an
+old man of the world like myself comes back amongst those he formerly
+lived with,--one who knew all their past history, how they succeeded
+here, how they failed there,--what led the great man of fashion to
+finish his days in a colony, and why the Court beauty married a bishop.
+Ah, sir, we are the physicians who have all these secrets in our
+keeping. It is ours to know what sorrow is covered by that smile, how
+that merry laugh has but smothered the sigh of a heavy heart. It is only
+when a man has lived to my age, with an unfailing memory too, that he
+knows the real hollowness of life,--all the combinations falsified, all
+the hopes blighted,--the clever fellows that have turned out failures,
+or worse than failures,--the lovely women that have made shipwreck
+through their beauty. It is not only, however, that he knows this, but
+he knows how craft and cunning have won where ability and frankness
+have lost,--how intrigue and trick have done better than genius and
+integrity. With all this knowledge, sir, in their heads, and stout
+hearts within them, such men as myself have their utility in life. They
+are a sort of walking conscience that cannot be ignored. The railroad
+millionnaire talks less boastfully before him who knew him as an
+errand-boy; the _grande dame_ is less superciliously insolent in the
+presence of one who remembered her in a very different character. Take
+my word for it, Cave, Nestor may have been a bit of a bore amongst the
+young Greeks of fashion, but he had his utility too.”
+
+“But how am I to answer this letter? What advice shall I give her?”
+
+“Tell her frankly that you have made the inquiry she wished; that the
+young lady, who is as well born as her son, is without fortune, and if
+her personal qualities count for nothing, would be what the world would
+call a 'bad match.'”
+
+“Yes, that sounds practicable. I think that will do.”
+
+“Tell her, also, that if she seriously desires that her son should
+continue in the way of that reformation he has so ardently followed for
+some time back, and especially so since he has made the acquaintance of
+this family, such a marriage as this would give her better reasons
+for confidence than all her most crafty devices in match-making and
+settlements.”
+
+“I don't think I can exactly tell her that,” said Caver smiling.
+
+“Tell her, then, that if this connection be not to her liking, to
+withdraw her son at once from this neighborhood before this girl should
+come to care for him; for if she should, by heavens! he shall marry her,
+if every acre of the estate were to go to a cousin ten times removed!”
+
+“Were not these people all strangers to you t' other day, Fossbrooke?”
+ said Cave, in something like a tone of reprehension.
+
+“So they were. I had never so much as heard of them; but she, this girl,
+has a claim upon my interest, founded on a resemblance so strong that
+when I see her, I live back again in the long past, and find myself in
+converse with the dearest friends I ever had. I vow to Heaven I never
+knew the bitterness of want of fortune till now! I never felt how
+powerless and insignificant poverty can make a man till I desired to
+contribute to this girl's happiness; and if I were not an old worthless
+wreck,--shattered and unseaworthy,--I 'd set to work to-morrow to refit
+and try to make a fortune to bestow on her.”
+
+If Cave was half disposed to banter the old man on what seemed little
+short of a devoted attachment, the agitation of Fossbrooke's manner--his
+trembling lip, his shaking voice, his changing color--all warned him
+to forbear, and abstain from what might well have proved a perilous
+freedom.
+
+“You will dine with us at mess, Fossbrooke, won't you?”
+
+“No; I shall return at once to Killaloe. I made Dr. Lendrick's
+acquaintance just as I started by the train. I want to see more of
+him. Besides, now that I know what was the emergency that called young
+Trafford up here, I have nothing to detain me.”
+
+“Shall you see him before you go?”
+
+“Of course. I am going over to his quarters now.”
+
+“You will not mention our conversation?”
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“I 'd like to show you my letter before I send it off. I 'd be glad to
+think it was what you recommended.”
+
+“Write what you feel to be a fair statement of the case, and if by any
+chance an inclination to partiality crosses you, let it be in favor of
+the young. Take my word for it, Cave, there is a selfishness in age that
+needs no ally. Stand by the sons; the fathers and mothers will take care
+of themselves. Good-bye.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. A GREAT MAN'S SCHOOLFELLOW
+
+Whether it was that the Chief Baron had thrown off an attack which had
+long menaced him, and whose slow approaches had gradually impaired his
+strength and diminished his mental activity, or whether, as some of his
+“friends” suggested, that the old man's tenure of life had been renewed
+by the impertinences of the newspapers and the insolent attacks of
+political foes,--an explanation not by any means far-fetched,--whatever
+the cause, he came out of his illness with all the signs of renewed
+vigor, and with a degree of mental acuteness that he had not enjoyed for
+many years before.
+
+“Beattie tells me that this attack has inserted another life in my
+lease,” said he; “and I am glad of it. It is right that the men who
+speculated on my death should be reminded of the uncertainty of life by
+the negative proof. It is well, too, that there should be men long-lived
+enough to bridge over periods of mediocrity, and connect the triumphs
+of the past with the coming glories of the future. We are surely not
+destined to a perpetuity of Pendletons and Fitzgibbons?”
+
+It was thus he discoursed to an old legal comrade,--who, less gifted
+and less fortunate, still wore his stuff gown, and pleaded for the
+outer bar,--poor old Billy Haire, the dreariest advocate, and one of the
+honestest fellows that ever carried his bag into court. While nearly all
+of his contemporaries had risen to rank and eminence, Billy toiled on
+through life with small success, liked by his friends, respected by
+the world, but the terror of attorneys, who only saw in him the type of
+adverse decisions and unfavorable verdicts.
+
+For forty-odd years had he lived a life that any but himself would have
+deemed martyrdom,--his law laughed at, his eloquence ridiculed, his
+manner mimicked, jeered at by the bench, quizzed by the bar, sneered at
+by the newspapers, every absurd story tagged to his name, every stupid
+blunder fathered on him, till at last, as it were, by the mere force
+of years, the world came to recognize the incomparable temper that no
+provocation had ever been able to irritate, the grand nature that rose
+above all resentment, and would think better of its fellows than these
+moods of spiteful wit or impertinent drollery might seem to entitle them
+to.
+
+The old Judge liked him; he liked his manly simplicity of character, his
+truthfulness, and his honesty; but perhaps more than all these, did he
+like his dulness. It was so pleasant to him to pelt this poor heavy man
+with smart epigrams and pungent sarcasms on all that was doing in the
+world, and see the hopeless effort he made to follow him.
+
+Billy, too, had another use; he alone, of all the Chief Baron's friends,
+could tell him what was the current gossip of the hall,--what men
+thought, or at least what they said of him. The genuine simplicity of
+Haire's nature gave to his revelations a character so devoid of all
+spitefulness,--it was so evident that, in repeating, he never identified
+himself with his story that Lendrick would listen to words from him
+that, coming from another, his resentment would have repelled with
+indignation.
+
+“And you tell me that the story now is, my whole attack was nothing but
+temper?” said the old Judge, as the two men walked slowly up and down on
+the grass lawn before the door.
+
+“Not that exactly; but they say that constitutional irritability had
+much to say to it.”
+
+“It was, in fact, such a seizure as, with a man like yourself, would
+have been a mere nothing.”
+
+“Perhaps so.”
+
+“I am sure of it, sir; and what more do they say?”
+
+“All sorts of things, which, of course, they know nothing about. Some
+have it that you refused the peerage, others that it was not offered.”
+
+“Ha!” said the old man, irritably, while a faint flush tinged his cheek.
+
+“They say, too,” continued Haire, “that when the Viceroy informed you
+that you were not to be made a peer, you said: 'Let the Crown look to
+it, then. The Revenue cases all come to my court; and so long as I sit
+there, they shall never have a verdict.'”
+
+“You must have invented that yourself, Billy,” said the Judge, with a
+droll malice in his eye. “Come, confess it is your own. It is _so_ like
+you.”
+
+“No, on my honor,” said the other, solemnly.
+
+“Not that I would take it ill, Haire, if you had. When a man has a turn
+for epigram, his friends must extend their indulgence to the humor.”
+
+“I assure you, positively, it is not mine.”
+
+“That is quite enough; let us talk of something else. By the way, I have
+a letter to show you. I put it in my pocket this morning, to let you
+see it; but, first of all, I must show you the writer,--here she is.”
+ He drew forth a small miniature case, and, opening it, handed it to the
+other.
+
+“What a handsome girl! downright beautiful!”
+
+“My granddaughter, sir,” said the old man, proudly.
+
+“I declare, I never saw a lovelier face,” said Haire. “She must be
+a rare cheat if she be not as good as she is beautiful. What a sweet
+mouth!”
+
+“The brow is fine; there is a high intelligence about the eyes and the
+temples.”
+
+“It is the smile, that little lurking smile, that captivates me. What
+may her age be?”
+
+“Something close on twenty. Now for her letter. Read that.”
+
+While Haire perused the letter, the old Judge sauntered away, looking
+from time to time at the miniature, and muttering some low inaudible
+words as he went.
+
+“I don't think I understand it. I am at a loss to catch what she is
+drifting at,” said Haire, as he finished the first side of the letter.
+“What is she so grateful for?”
+
+“You think the case is one which calls for little gratitude, then. What
+a sarcastic mood you are in this morning, Haire!” said the Judge, with
+a malicious twinkle of the eye. “Still, there are young ladies in the
+world who would vouchsafe to bear me company in requital for being
+placed at the head of such a house as this.”
+
+“I can make nothing of it,” said the other, hopelessly.
+
+“The case is this,” said the Judge, as he drew his arm within the
+other's. “Tom Lendrick has beeu offered a post of some value--some value
+to a man poor as he is--at the Cape. I have told him that his acceptance
+in no way involves me. I have told those who have offered the place that
+I stand aloof in the whole negotiation,--that in their advancement of
+my son they establish no claim upon _me_, I have even said I will know
+nothing whatever of the incident.” He paused for some minutes, and then
+went on: “I have told Tom, however, if his circumstances were such as
+to dispose him to avail himself of this offer, that--until he assured
+himself that the place was one to his liking, that it gave a reasonable
+prospect of permanence, that the climate was salubrious, and the society
+not distasteful--I would take his daughter to live with me.”
+
+“He has a son, too, has n't he?”
+
+“He has, sir, and he fain would have induced me to take _him_ instead of
+the girl; but this I would not listen to. I have not nerves for the loud
+speech and boisterous vitality of a young fellow of four or five and
+twenty. His very vigor would be a standing insult to me, and the fellow
+would know it. When men come to my age, they want a mild atmosphere in
+morals and manners, as well as in climate. My son's physiology has not
+taught him this, doctor though he be.”
+
+“I see,--I see it all now,” said Haire; “and the girl, though sorry to
+be separated from her father, is gratified by the thought of becoming a
+tie between him and you.”
+
+“That is not in the record, sir,” said the Judge, sternly. “Keep to your
+brief.” He took the letter sharply from the other's hand as he spoke.
+“My granddaughter has not had much experience of life; but her woman's
+tact has told her that her real difficulty--her only one, perhaps--will
+be with Lady Lendrick. She cannot know that Lady Lendrick's authority
+in this house is nothing,--less than nothing. I would never have invited
+her to come here, had it been otherwise.”
+
+“Have you apprised Lady Lendrick of this arrangement?”
+
+“No, sir; nor shall I. it shall be for you to do that 'officiously,' as
+the French say, to distinguish from what is called 'officially.' I mean
+you to call upon her and say, in the course of conversation, informally,
+accidentally, that Miss Lendrick's arrival at the Priory has been
+deferred, or that it is fixed for such a date,--in fact, sir, whatever
+your own nice tact may deem the neatest mode of alluding to the topic,
+leaving to her the reply. You understand me?”
+
+“I 'm not so sure that I do.”
+
+“So much the better; your simplicity will be more inscrutable than your
+subtlety, Haire. I can deal with the one--the other masters me.”
+
+“I declare frankly I don't like the mission. I was never, so to say, a
+favorite with her Ladyship.”
+
+“Neither was I, sir,” said the other, with a peremptory loudness that
+was almost startling.
+
+“Hadn't you better intimate it by a few lines in a note? Had n't you
+better say that, having seen your son during his late visit to town, and
+learnt his intention to accept a colonial appointment--”
+
+“All this would be apologetic, sir, and must not be thought of. Don't
+you know, Haire, that every unnecessary affidavit is a flaw in a man's
+case? Go and see her; your very awkwardness will imply a secret, and she
+'ll be so well pleased with her acuteness in discovering the mystery,
+she 'll half forget its offence.”
+
+“Let me clearly understand what I' ve got to do. I 'm to tell her or to
+let her find out that you have been reconciled to your son Tom?”
+
+“There is not a word of reconciliation, sir, in all your instructions.
+You are to limit yourself to the statement that touches my
+granddaughter.”
+
+“Very well; it will be so much the easier. I'm to say, then, that you
+have adopted her, and placed her at the head of your house; that she is
+to live here in all respects as its mistress?”
+
+He paused; and as the Judge bowed a concurrence, he went on: “Of course
+you will allow me to add that I was never consulted; that you did not
+ask my opinion, and that I never gave one?”
+
+“You are at liberty to, say all this.”
+
+“I would even say that I don't exactly see how the thing will work. A
+very young girl, with of course a limited experience of life, will
+have no common difficulties in dealing with a world so new and strange,
+particularly without the companionship of one of her own sex.”
+
+“I cannot promise to supply that want, but she shall see as much of
+_you_ as possible.” And the words were uttered with a blended courtesy
+and malice, of which he was perfect master. Poor Haire, however, only
+saw the complimentary part, and hurriedly pledged himself to be at Miss
+Lendrick's orders at all times.
+
+“Come and let me show you how I mean to lodge her. I intend her to feel
+a perfect independence of me and my humors. We are to see each other
+from inclination, not constraint: I intend, sir that we should live on
+good terms; and as the Church will have nothing to say to the compact,
+it is possible it may succeed.
+
+“These rooms are to be hers,” said he, opening a door which offered a
+_vista_ through several handsomely furnished rooms, all looking out upon
+a neatly kept flower-garden. “Lady Lendrick, I believe, had long since
+destined them for a son and daughter-in-law of hers, who are on their
+way home from India. The plan will be now all the more difficult of
+accomplishment.”
+
+“Which will not make my communication to her the pleasanter.”
+
+“But redound so much the more to the credit of your adroitness, Haire,
+if you succeed. Come over here this evening and report progress.” And
+with this he nodded an easy good-bye, and strolled down the garden.
+
+“I don't envy Haire his brief in this case,” muttered he. “He'll not
+have the 'court with him,' that's certain;” and he laughed spitefully to
+himself as he went.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. LAST DAYS
+
+It may seem a hardship, but not improbably it is in its way an
+alleviation, that we are never involved in any of the great trials
+in life without having to deal with certain material embarrassments,
+questions of vulgar interest which concern our pockets and affect our
+finances.
+
+Poor Lendrick's was a case in point. He was about to leave his
+country,--to tear himself from a home he had embellished,--to separate
+from his children that he loved so dearly, to face a new life in a new
+land, friendless and alone; and with all these cares on his heart, he
+had creditors to satisfy, debts to insure payment of by security, and,
+not least of his troubles, his house to relet. Now, the value the world
+sets on that which is not for sale is very unlike its estimate for the
+same commodity when brought to market. The light claret your friend
+pronounced a very pleasant little wine at your own table, he would
+discover, when offered for purchase, to be poor, washy, and acrid. The
+horse you had left him, and whose performance he had encomiumized,
+if put up to auction, would be found spavined, or windgalled, or
+broken-down. Such a stern test is money, so fearfully does its coarse
+jingle jar upon all the music of flattery, and make discord of all
+compliment. To such a pitch is the process carried, that even pretty
+women, who as wives were objects of admiration to despairing and
+disappointed adorers, have become, by widowhood, very ordinary
+creatures, simply because they are once more “in the market.”
+
+It is well for us that heaven itself was not in the “Price Current,”
+ or we might have begun to think lightly of it. At all events we 'd have
+higgled about the cost, and tried to get there as cheaply as might be.
+
+From the day that the Swan's Nest appeared in the Dublin papers “to be
+let furnished, for the three years of an unexpired term,” Lendrick was
+besieged by letters and applications. All the world apparently wanted
+the place, but wanted it in some way or other quite out of his power
+to accord. One insisted on having it unfurnished, and for a much longer
+period than he could give. Another desired more land, and the right of
+shooting over several hundred additional acres. A third would like the
+house and garden, but would not burden himself with the lawn, and could
+not see why Lendrick might not continue to hold the meadow-land, and
+come back from the Cape or anywhere else to mow the grass and rick it in
+due season.
+
+A schoolmistress proposed he should build a dormitory for thirty young
+ladies, and make the flower-garden into a playground; and a miller from
+Limerick inquired whether he was willing to join in a suit to establish
+a right of water-power by diverting a stream from the Shannon through
+the dining-room to turn an undershot wheel.
+
+It was marvellous with what patience and courtesy Lendrick replied to
+these and such-like, politely assuring the writers how he regretted
+his inability to meet their wishes, and modestly confessing that he had
+neither the money nor the time to make his house other than it was.
+
+All these, however, were as nothing to his trials when the day arrived
+when the house and grounds, in the language of the advertisement, were
+“on view,” and the world of the curious and idle were free to invade the
+place, stroll at will through rooms and gardens, comment and criticise
+not merely the objects before them, but the taste and the fortunes, the
+habits and the lives of those who had made this their home, and these
+things part of their own natures.
+
+In a half-jesting humor, but really to save Lendrick from a
+mortification which, to a nature timid and sensitive as his, would
+have been torture, Sir Brook and Tom agreed to divide the labors of
+ciceroneship between them; the former devoting his attentions to
+the house and furniture, while Tom assumed the charge of grounds and
+gardens. To complete the arrangement, Lendrick and Lucy were banished to
+a small summer-house, and strictly enjoined never to venture abroad so
+long as the stranger horde overran the territory.
+
+“I declare, my dear, I almost think the remedy worse than the disease,”
+ said Lendrick to his daughter, as he paced with short feverish steps the
+narrow limits of his prison-house. “This isolation here has something
+secret, something that suggests shame about it. I think I could almost
+rather face all the remarks our visitors might make than sit down here
+to fancy and brood over them.”
+
+“I suspect not, dearest papa; I believe the plan will spare us much that
+might pain us.”
+
+“After all, child, these people have a right to be critical, and they
+are not bound to know by what associations you and I are tied to that
+old garden-seat or that bookstand, and we ought to be able to avoid
+showing them this.”
+
+“Perhaps we ought, papa; but could we do so? that's-the question.”
+
+“Surely the tradesman affects no such squeamishness about what he offers
+for sale.”
+
+“True, papa; because none of his wares have caught any clew to his
+identity. They have never been his in the sense which makes possession
+pleasure.”
+
+“I wish they would not laugh without there; their coarse laughter sounds
+to me so like vulgar ridicule. I hardly thought all this would have made
+me so irritable; even the children's voices jar on my nerves.”
+
+He turned away his head, but her eyes followed him, and two heavy tears
+stole slowly along her cheek, and her lip quivered as she looked.
+
+“There, they are going away,” said he, listening; “I am better now.”
+
+“That 's right, dearest papa; I knew it was a mere passing pang,” said
+she, drawing her arm within his, and walking along at his side. “How
+kind Sir Brook is!”
+
+“How kind every one, we might say. Poor Mills is like a brother, and
+Tobin too,--I scarcely expected so much heart from him. He gave me
+his old lancet-case as a keepsake yesterday, and I declare his voice
+trembled as he said good-bye.”
+
+“As for the poor people, I hear, papa, that one would think they had
+lost their nearest and dearest. Molly Dew says they were crying in her
+house this morning over their breakfast as if it was a funeral.”
+
+“Is it not strange, Lucy, that what touches the heart so painfully
+should help to heal the pang it gives? There is that in all this
+affection for us that gladdens while it grieves. All,--all are so kind
+to us! That young fellow--Trafford I think his name is--he was waiting
+at the post for his letters this morning when I came up, and it seems
+that Foss-brooke had told him of my appointment,--indiscreet of him, for
+I would not wish it talked of; but Trafford turned to him and said, 'Ask
+Dr. Lendrick, is he decided about going;' and when he heard that I was,
+he scarcely said goodbye, but jumped into a cab, and drove off full
+speed.
+
+“'What does that mean?' asked I.
+
+“'He was so fond of Tom,' said Fossbrooke, 'they were never separate
+this last month or five weeks;' so you see, darling, each of us has his
+sphere of love and affection.”
+
+Lucy was crimson over face and neck, but never spoke a word. Had she
+spoken it would have been, perhaps, to corroborate Sir Brook, and to say
+how fond the young men were of each other. I do not affirm this, I only
+hint that it is likely. Where there are blanks in this narrative, the
+reader has as much right to fill them as myself.
+
+“Sir Brook,” continued Lendrick, “thinks well of the young man; but for
+my own part I hardly like to see Tom in close companionship with one so
+much his superior in fortune. He is easily led, and has not yet learned
+that stern lesson in life, how to confess that there are many things he
+has no pretension to aspire to.”
+
+“Tom loves you too sincerely, papa, ever to do that which would
+seriously grieve you.”
+
+“He would not deliberately,--he would not in cold blood, Lucy; but young
+men, when together, have not many moods of deliberation or cold blood.
+But let us not speculate on trouble that may never come. It is enough
+for the present that he and Trafford are separated, if Trafford was even
+likely to lead him into ways of extravagance.”
+
+“What 's that! Is n't it, Tom? He's laughing heartily at something. Yes;
+here he comes.”
+
+“You may come out; the last of them has just driven off,” cried Tom,
+knocking at the door, while he continued to laugh on immoderately.
+
+“What is it, Tom? What are you laughing at?”
+
+“You should have seen it; it's nothing to tell, but it was wonderful to
+witness. I'll never forget it as long as I live.”
+
+“But what was it?” asked she, impatiently.
+
+“I thought we had fully done with all our visitors,--and a rum set they
+were, most of them, not thinking of taking the place, but come out of
+mere curiosity,--when who should drive up with two postilions and
+four spicy grays but Lady Drumcarran and a large party, three horsemen
+following? I just caught the word 'Excellency,' and found out from
+one of the servants that a tall old man with white hair and very heavy
+eyebrows was the Lord-Lieutenant. He stooped a good deal, and walked
+tenderly; and as the Countess was most eager about the grounds and the
+gardens, they parted company very soon, he going into the house to sit
+down, while she prosecuted her inquiries without doors.
+
+“I took him into the library; we had a long chat about fishing, and
+fish-curing, and the London markets, and flax, and national education,
+and land-tenure, and such-like. Of course I affected not to know who he
+was, and I took the opportunity to say scores of impertinences about
+the stupidity of the Castle, and the sort of men they send over here
+to govern us; and he asked me if I was destined for any career or
+profession, and I told him frankly that whenever I took up anything I
+always was sure to discover it was the one very thing that didn't suit
+me; and as I made this unlucky discovery in law, medicine, and the
+Church, I had given up my college career, and was now in a sort of
+interregnal period, wondering what it was to be next. I did n't like to
+own that the _res angusto_ had anything to say to it. It was no business
+of his to know about that.
+
+“'You surely have friends able and willing to suggest something that
+would fit you,' said he. 'Is not the Chief Baron your grandfather?'
+
+“'Yes, and he might make me crier of his court; but I think he has
+promised the reversion to his butler. The fact is, I 'd not do over
+well with any fixed responsibilities attached to me. I 'd rather be a
+guerilla than serve in the regulars, and so I 'll just wait and see if
+something won't turn up in that undisciplined force I 'd like to serve
+with.'
+
+“'I 'll give you my name,' said he, 'before we part, and possibly I may
+know some one who might be of use to you.'
+
+“I thanked him coolly, and we talked of something else, when there came
+a short plump little fellow, all beard and gold chains, to say that Lady
+Drumcarran was waiting for him. 'Tell her I'm coming,' said he; 'and,
+Balfour,' he cried out, 'before you go away, give this gentleman my
+address, and if he should call, take care that I see him.'
+
+“Balfour eyed me, and I eyed him, with, I take it, pretty much the same
+result, which said plainly enough, 'You 're not the man for me.'
+
+“'What in heaven's name is this?' cried the Viceroy, as he got outside
+and saw Lady Drumcarran at the head of a procession carrying plants,
+slips, and flower-pots down to the carriage.
+
+“'Her Ladyship has made a raid amongst the greeneries,' said Balfour,
+'and tipped the head-gardener, that tall fellow there with the yellow
+rose-tree; as the place is going to be sold, she thought she might well
+do a little genteel pillage.' Curious to see who our gardener could be,
+all the more that he was said to be 'tall,' I went forward, and what
+do you think I saw? Sir Brook, with a flower-pot under one arm, and
+a quantity of cuttings under the other, walking a little after the
+Countess, who was evidently giving him ample directions as to her
+intentions. I could scarcely refrain from an outburst of laughing, but I
+got away into the shrubbery and watched the whole proceedings. I was
+too far off to hear, but this much I saw. Sir Brook had deposited his
+rose-tree and his slips on the rumble, and stood beside the carriage
+with his hat off. When his Excellency came up, a sudden movement took
+place in the group, and the Viceroy, seeming to push his way through
+the others, cried out something I could not catch, and then grasped Sir
+Brook's hand with both his own. All was tumult in a moment. My Lady, in
+evident confusion and shame,--that much I could see,--was courtesying
+deeply to Sir Brook, who seemed not to understand her apologies--,
+at least, he appeared stately and courteous, as usual, and not in the
+slightest degree put out or chagrined by the incident. Though Lady
+Drumcarran was profuse of her excuses, and most eager to make amends
+for her mistake, the Viceroy took Sir Brook's arm and led him off to a
+little distance, where they talked together for a few moments.
+
+“'It's a promise, then, Fossbrooke,--you promise me!' cried he aloud, as
+he approached the carriage.
+
+“'Rely upon me,--and within a week, or ten days at farthest,' said Sir
+Brook, as they drove away.
+
+“I have not seen him since, and I scarcely know if I shall be able to
+meet him without laughing.”
+
+“Here he comes,” cried Lucy; “and take care, Tom, that you do nothing
+that might offend him.”
+
+The caution was so far unnecessary that Sir Brook's manner, as he drew
+near, had a certain stately dignity that invited no raillery.
+
+“You have been detained a long time a prisoner, Dr. Len-drick,” said
+Fossbrooke, calmly; “but your visitors were so charmed with all they saw
+that they lingered on, unwilling to take their leave.”
+
+“Tom tells me we had some of our county notabilities,--Lord and Lady
+Drumcarran, the Lacys, and others,” said Lendrick.
+
+“Yes; and the Lord-Lieutenant, too, whom I used to know at Christ
+Church. He would have been well pleased to have met you. He told me your
+father was the ablest and most brilliant talker he ever knew.”
+
+“Ah! we are very unlike,” said Lendrick, blushing modestly. “Did he
+give any hint as to whether his party are pleased or the reverse with my
+father's late conduct?”
+
+“He only said, 'I wish you knew him, Fossbrooke; I sincerely wish you
+knew him, if only to assure him that he will meet far more generous
+treatment from us than from the Opposition.' He added that we were men
+to suit each other; and this, of course, was a flattery for which I am
+very grateful.”
+
+“And the tall man with the stoop was the Lord-Lieutenant?” asked Tom. “I
+passed half an hour or more with him in the library, and he invited me
+to call upon him, and told a young fellow, named Balfour, to give me his
+address, which he forgot to do.”
+
+“We can go together, if you have no objection; for I, too, have promised
+to pay my respects,” said Sir Brook.
+
+Tom was delighted at the suggestion, but whispered in his sister's ear,
+as they passed out into the garden, “I thought I 'd have burst my sides
+laughing when I met him; but it's the very last thing in my thoughts
+now. I declare I 'd as soon pull a tiger's whiskers as venture on the
+smallest liberty with him.”
+
+“I think you are right, Tom,” said she, squeezing his arm
+affectionately, to show that she not alone agreed with him, but was
+pleased that he had given her the opportunity of doing so.
+
+“I wonder is he telling the governor what happened this morning? It can
+scarcely be that, though, they look so grave.”
+
+“Papa seems agitated too,” said Lucy.
+
+“I just caught Trafford's name as they passed. I hope he 's not saying
+anything against him. It is not only that Lionel Trafford is as good a
+fellow as ever lived, but that he fully believes Fossbrooke likes him. I
+don't think he could be so false; do you, Lucy?”
+
+“I 'm certain he is not. There, papa is beckoning to you; he wants you;”
+ and Lucy turned hurriedly away, anxious to conceal her emotion, for her
+cheeks were burning, and her lips trembled with agitation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER
+
+It was decided on that evening that Sir Brook and Tom should set out for
+Dublin the next morning. Lucy knew not why this sudden determination had
+been come to, and Tom, who never yet had kept a secret from her, was now
+reserved and uncommunicative. Nor was it merely that he held aloof his
+confidence, but he was short and snappish in his manner, as though she
+had someway vexed him, and vexed him in some shape that he could not
+openly speak of or resent.
+
+This was very new to her from him, and yet how was it? She had not
+courage to ask for an explanation. Tom was not exactly one of those
+people of whom it was pleasant to ask explanations., Where the matter to
+be explained might be one of delicacy, he had a way of abruptly blurting
+out the very thing one would have desired might be kept back. Just as an
+awkward surgeon will tear off the dressing, and set a wound a-bleeding,
+would he rudely destroy the work of time in healing by a moment of rash
+impatience. It was knowing this--knowing it well--that deterred Lucy
+from asking what might lead to something not over-agreeable to hear.
+
+“Shall I pack your portmanteau, Tom?” asked she. It was a task that
+always fell to her lot.
+
+“No; Nicholas can do it,--any one can do it,” said he, as he mumbled
+with an unlit cigar between his teeth.
+
+“You used to say I always did it best, Tom,--that I never forgot
+anything,” said she, caressingly.
+
+“Perhaps I did,--perhaps I thought so. Look here, Lucy,” said he, as
+though by an immense effort he had got strength to say what he wanted,
+“I am half vexed with you, if not more than half.”
+
+“Vexed with me, Tom,--vexed with _me!_ and for what?”
+
+“I don't think that you need ask. I am inclined to believe that you know
+perfectly well what I mean, and what I would much rather not say, if you
+will only let me.”
+
+“I do not,” said she, slowly and deliberately.
+
+“Do you mean to say, Lucy,” said he, and his manner was almost stern as
+he spoke, “that you have no secrets from me, that you are as frank and
+outspoken with me today as you were three months ago?”
+
+“I do say so.”
+
+“Then what's the meaning of this letter?” cried he, as, carried away
+by a burst of passion, he overstepped all the prudential reserve he had
+sworn to himself to regard. “What does this mean?”
+
+“I know nothing of that letter, nor what it contains,” said she,
+blushing till her very brow became crimson.
+
+“I don't suppose you do, for though it is addressed to you, the seal is
+unbroken; but you know whose handwriting it's in, and you know that you
+have had others from the same quarter.”
+
+“I believe the writing is Mr. Trafford's,” said she, as a deathlike
+paleness spread over her face, “because he himself once asked me to read
+a letter from him in the same handwriting.”
+
+“Which you did?”
+
+“No; I refused. I handed the letter back to him unopened, and said that,
+as I certainly should not write to him without my father's knowledge and
+permission, I would not read a letter from him without the same.”
+
+“And what was the epistle, then, that the vicar's housekeeper handed him
+from you?”
+
+“That same letter I have spoken of. He left it on my table, insisting
+and believing that on second thoughts I would read it. He thought so
+because it was not to me, though addressed to me, but the copy of a
+letter he had written to his mother, about me certainly.” Here she
+blushed deeply again. “As I continued, however, of the same mind,
+determined not to see what the letter contained, I re-enclosed it and
+gave it to Mrs. Brennan to hand to him.”
+
+“And all this you kept a secret from me?”
+
+“It was not my secret. It was his. It was his till such time as he could
+speak of it to my father, and this he told me had not yet come.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“I never asked him that. I do not think, Tom,” said she, with much
+emotion, “it was such a question as you would have had me ask.”
+
+“Do you love--Come, darling Lucy, don't be angry with me. I never meant
+to wound your feelings. Don't sob that way, my dear, dear Lucy. You know
+what a rough coarse fellow I am; but I'd rather die than offend you.
+Why did you not tell me of all this? I never liked any one so well as
+Trafford, and why leave me to the chance of misconstruing him? Would n't
+it have been the best way to have trusted me as you always have?”
+
+“I don't see what there was to have confided to you. Mr. Trafford might,
+if he wished. I mean, that if there was a secret at all. I don't know
+what I mean,” cried she, covering her face with her handkerchief, while
+a convulsive motion of her shoulders showed how she was moved.
+
+“I am as glad as if I had got a thousand pounds, to know you have been
+so right, so thoroughly right, in all this, Lucy; and I am glad, too,
+that Trafford has done nothing to make me think less well of him. Let's
+be friends; give me your hand, like a dear, good girl, and forgive me if
+I have said what pained you.”
+
+“I am not angry, Tom,” said she, giving her hand, but with her head
+still averted.
+
+“God knows it's not the time for us to fall out,” said he, with a
+shaking voice. “Going to separate as we are, and when to be together
+again not so easy to imagine.”
+
+“You are surely going out with papa?” asked she, eagerly.
+
+“No; they say not.”
+
+“Who says not?”
+
+“The governor himself--Sir Brook--old Mills--everybody, in fact. They
+have held a committee of the whole house on it. I think Nicholas was
+present too; and it has been decided that as I am very much given to
+idleness, bitter beer, and cigars, I ought not to be anywhere where
+these ingredients compose the chief part of existence. Now the Cape is
+precisely one of these places; and if you abstract the idleness,
+the bitter beer, and the tobacco, there is nothing left but a little
+Hottentotism, which is neither pleasant nor profitable. Voted,
+therefore, I am not to go to the Cape. It is much easier, however, to
+open the geography books, and show all the places I am unfit for, than
+to hit upon the one that will suit me. And so I am going up to Dublin
+to-morrow with Sir Brook to consult--I don't well know whom, perhaps a
+fortune-teller--what 's to be done with me. All I do know is, I am to
+see my grandfather, and to wait on the Viceroy, and I don't anticipate
+that any of us will derive much pleasure from either event.”
+
+“Oh, Tom! what happiness it would be to me if grandpapa--” She stopped,
+blushed, and tried in vain to go on.
+
+“Which is about the least likely thing in the world, Lucy,” said he,
+answering her unspoken sentence. “I am just the sort of creature he
+could n't abide,--not to add that, from all I have heard of him, I 'd
+rather take three years with hard labor at the hulks than live with him.
+It will do very well with you. You have patience, and a soft forgiving
+disposition. You 'll fancy yourself, besides, Heaven knows what of a
+heroine, for submitting to his atrocious temper, and imagine slavery to
+be martyrdom. Now, I could n't. I 'd let him understand that I was one
+of the family, and had a born right to be as ill-tempered, as selfish,
+and as unmannerly as any other Lendrick.”
+
+“But if he should like you, Tom? If you made a favorable impression upon
+him when you met?”
+
+“If I should, I think I 'd go over to South Carolina, and ask some one
+to buy me as a negro, for I 'd know in my heart it was all I could be
+fit for.”
+
+“Oh, my dear, dear Tom, I wish you would meet him in a different spirit,
+if only for poor papa's sake. You know what store he lays by grandpapa's
+affection.”
+
+“I see it, and it puzzles me. If any one should continue to ill-treat
+me for five-and-twenty years, I 'd not think of beginning to forgive him
+till after fifty more, and I 'm not quite sure I 'd succeed then.”
+
+“But you are to meet him, Tom,” said she, hopefully. “I trust much to
+your meeting.”
+
+“That 's more than I do, Lucy. Indeed, I 'd not go at all, except on the
+condition which I have made with myself, to accept nothing from him.
+I had not meant to tell you this; but it has escaped me, and can't
+be helped. Don't hang your head and pout your lip over that bad boy,
+brother Tom. I intend to be as submissive and as humble in our interview
+as if I was going to owe my life to him, just because I want him to be
+very kind and gracious to you; and I 'd not wish to give him any reason
+for saying harsh things of me, which would hurt you to listen to. If I
+only knew how--and I protest I do not--I'd even try and make a favorable
+impression upon him, for I 'd like to be able to come and see you, Lucy,
+now and then, and it would be a sore blow to me if he forbade me.”
+
+“You don't think I'd remain under his roof if he should do so?” asked
+she, indignantly.
+
+“Not if you saw him turn me away,--shutting the door in my face; but
+what scores of civil ways there are of intimating that one is not
+welcome! But why imagine all these?--none of them may happen; and, as
+Sir Brook says, the worst misfortunes of life are those that never come
+to us; and I, for one, am determined to deal only with real, actual,
+present enemies. Is n't he a rare old fellow?--don't you like him,
+Lucy?”
+
+“I like him greatly.”
+
+“He loves you, Lucy,--he told me so; he said you were so like a girl
+whose godfather he was, and that he had loved her as if she were his
+own. Whether she had died, or whether something had happened that
+estranged them, I could n't make out; but he said you had raised up
+some old half-dead embers in his heart, and kindled a flame where he had
+thought all was to be cold forever; and the tears came into his eyes,
+and that great deep voice of his grew fainter and fainter, and something
+that sounded like a sob stopped him. I always knew he was a brave,
+stout-hearted, gallant fellow; but that he could feel like this I never
+imagined. I almost think it was some girl he was going to be married
+to once that you must be so like. Don't you think so?” “I don't know;
+I cannot even guess,” said she, slowly. “It's not exactly the sort of
+nature where one would expect to find much sentiment; but, as he
+said one day, some old hearts are like old chateaux, with strange old
+chambers in them that none have traversed for years and years, and with
+all the old furniture moth-eaten and crumbling, but standing just where
+it used to be. I 'd not wonder if it was of himself he was speaking.”
+
+She remained silent and thoughtful, and he went on,--“There's a deal of
+romance under that quaint stern exterior. What do you think he said this
+morning?--'Your father's heart is wrapped up in this place, Tom; let us
+set to work to make money and buy it for him. 'I did not believe he was
+serious, and I said some stupid nonsense about a diamond necklace and
+ear-rings for you on the day of presentation; and he turned upon me with
+a fierce look, and in a voice trembling with anger, said, 'Well, sir,
+and whom would they become better? Is it her birth or her beauty would
+disparage them, if they were the jewels of a crown?' I know I 'll not
+cross another whim of his in the same fashion again; though he came
+to my room afterwards to make an apology for the tone in which he had
+spoken, and assured me it should never be repeated.” “I hope you told
+him you had not felt offended.” “I did more,--I did, at least, what
+pleased him more,--I said I was delighted with that plan of his about
+buying up the Nest, and that the very thought gave a zest to any pursuit
+I might engage in; and so, Lucy, it is settled between us that if
+his Excellency won't make me something with a fine salary and large
+perquisites, Sir Brook and I are to set out I'm not very sure where, and
+we are to do I'm not quite certain what; but two such clever fellows,
+uniting experience with energy, can't fail, and the double event--I mean
+the estate and the diamonds--are just as good as won already. Well,
+what do you want, Nicholas?” cried Tom, as the grim old man put his head
+inside the door and retired again, mumbling something as he went. “Oh,
+I remember it now; he has been tormenting the governor all day about
+getting him some place,--some situation or other; and the old rascal
+thinks we are the most ungrateful wretches under the sun, to be so full
+of our own affairs and so forgetful of his: we are certainly not likely
+to leave him unprovided for; he can't imagine that. Here he comes again.
+My father is gone into Killaloe, Nicholas; but don't be uneasy, he 'll
+not forget you.”
+
+“Forgettin's one thing, Master Tom, and rememberin's the right way is
+another,” said Nicholas, sternly. “I told him yesterday, and I repeated
+it to-day, I won't go among them Hottentots.”
+
+“Has he asked you?”
+
+“Did he ask me?” repeated the old man, leaning forward and eying him
+fiercely,--“did he ask me?”
+
+“My brother means, Nicholas, that papa could n't expect you to go so far
+away from your home and your friends.”
+
+“And where's my home and my friends?” cried the irascible old fellow;
+“and I forty-eight years in the family? Is that the way to have a home
+or friends either?”
+
+“No, Tom, no,--I entreat--I beg of you,” said Lucy, standing between her
+brother and the old man, and placing her hand on Tom's lips; “you know
+well that he can't help it.”
+
+“That's just it,” cried Nicholas, catching the words; “I can't help it.
+I 'm too old to help it. It is n't after eight-and-forty years one ought
+to be looking out for new sarvice.”
+
+“Papa hopes that grandpapa will have no objection to taking you,
+Nicholas; he means to write about it to-day; but if there should be a
+difficulty, he has another place.”
+
+“Maybe I'm to 'list and be a sodger; faix, it wouldn't be much worse
+than going back to your grandfather.”
+
+“Why, you discontented old fool,” burst in Tom, “have n't you been
+teasing our souls out these ten years back by your stories of the fine
+life you led in the Chief Baron's house?”
+
+“The eatin' was better, and the drinkin' was better,” said Nicholas,
+resolutely. “Wherever the devil it comes from, the small beer here bangs
+Banagher; but for the matter of temper he was one of yourselves! and by
+my sowl, it's a family not easily matched!”
+
+“I agree with you; any other man than my father would have pitched you
+neck and crop into the Shannon years ago,--I 'll be shot if I would
+n't.”
+
+“Mind them words. What you said there is a threat; it's what the law
+makes a constructive threat, and we 'll see what the Coorts say to it.”
+
+“I declare, Nicholas, you would provoke any one; you will let no one be
+your friend,” said Lucy; and taking her brother's arm she led him away,
+while the old man, watching them till they entered the shrubbery, seated
+himself leisurely in a deep arm-chair, and wiped the perspiration from
+his forehead. “By my conscience,” muttered he, “it takes two years off
+my life every day I have to keep yez in order.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. MR. HAIRE'S MISSION.
+
+Although the Chief Baron had assured Haire that his mission had no
+difficulty about it, that he 'd find her Ladyship would receive him in a
+very courteous spirit, and, finally, that “he'd do the thing” admirably,
+the unhappy little lawyer approached his task with considerable
+misgivings, which culminated in actual terror as he knocked at the door
+of the house where Lady Lendrick resided in Merrion Square, and sent up
+his name.
+
+“The ladies are still in committee, sir,” said a bland-looking,
+usher-like personage, who, taking up Haire's card from the salver,
+scanned the name with a half-supercilious look.
+
+“In committee! ah, indeed, I was not aware,” stammered out Haire. “I
+suspect--that is--I have reason to believe her Ladyship is aware--I mean
+my name is not unknown to Lady Lendrick--would you kindly present my
+card?”
+
+“Take it up, Bates,” said the man in black, and then turned away to
+address another person, for the hall was crowded with people of various
+conditions and ranks, and who showed in their air and manner a something
+of anxiety, if not of impatience.
+
+“Mr. MacClean,--where's Mr. MacClean?” cried a man in livery, as he held
+forth a square-shaped letter. “Is Mr. MacClean there?”
+
+“Yes, I'm Mr. MacClean,” said a red-faced, fussy-looking man. “I'm Mr.
+George Henry MacClean, of 41 Mount Street.”
+
+“Two tickets for Mr. MacClean,” said the usher, handing him the letter
+with a polite bow.
+
+“Mr. Nolan, Balls Bridge,--does any one represent Mr. Nolan of Balls
+Bridge?” said the usher, haughtily.
+
+“That 's me,” said a short man, who wiped the perspiration from his face
+with a red-spotted handkerchief, as large as a small bed-quilt,--“that's
+me.”
+
+“The references not satisfactory, Mr. Nolan,” said the usher, reading
+from a paper in his hand.
+
+“Not satisfactory?--what do you mean? Is Peter Arkins, Esquire,
+of Clontarf, unsatisfactory? Is Mr. Ryland, of Abbey Street,
+unsatisfactory?”
+
+“I am really, sir, unable to afford you the explanation you desire. I am
+simply deputed by her Ladyship to return the reply that I find written
+here. The noise is really so great here I can hear nothing. Who are you
+asking for, Bates?”
+
+“Mr. Mortimer O'Hagan.”
+
+“He's gone away,” cried a voice; “he was here since eleven o'clock.”
+
+“Application refused. Will some one tell Mr. O'Hagan his application is
+refused?” said the usher, austerely.
+
+“Might I be bold enough to ask what is going forward?” whispered Haire.
+
+“Mr. W. Haire, Ely Place,” shouted out the man in livery. “Card refused
+for want of a reference.”
+
+“You ought to have sent up two names,--well-known names, Mr. Haire,”
+ said the usher, with a politeness that seemed marked. “It's not too late
+yet; let me see,” and he looked at his watch, “we want a quarter to one;
+be back here in half an hour. Take a car,--you 'll find one at the door.
+Get your names, and I 'll see if I can't do it for you.”
+
+“I am afraid I don't understand you, and I am sure you don't understand
+me. I came here by appointment--” The rest of the sentence was lost by a
+considerable bustle and movement that now ensued, for a number of ladies
+descended the stairs, chatting and laughing freely; while servants
+rushed hither and thither, calling up carriages, or inquiring for others
+not yet come. The usher, frantically pushing the crowd aside to clear a
+path for the ladies, was profuse of apologies for the confusion; adding
+at the same time that “it was twice as bad an hour ago. There were n't
+less than two hundred here this morning.”
+
+A number of little pleasantries passed as the bland usher handed the
+ladies to their carriages; and it was evident by their laughter that his
+remarks were deemed pungent and witty. Meanwhile the hall was becoming
+deserted. The persons who had crowded there, descending singly or in
+groups, went their several ways, leaving Haire the only one behind. “And
+now, sir,” said the usher, “you see it's all over. You would n't take my
+advice. They are all gone, and it's the last meeting.”
+
+“Will you favor me so far as to say for what did they meet? What was the
+object of the gathering?”
+
+“I suppose, sir, you are not a reader of the morning papers?”
+
+“Occasionally. Indeed, I always glance at them.”
+
+“Well, sir, and has not your glance fallen upon the announcement of the
+ball,--the grand ball to be given at the-Rotundo for the orphan asylum
+called the 'Rogues Redemptory,' at Rathmines, at the head of whose
+patronesses stands my Lady's name?”
+
+Haire shook his head in negative.
+
+“And have you not come like the rest with an application for permission
+to attend the ball?”
+
+“No; I have come to speak to Lady Lendrick--and by appointment too.”
+
+A faint but prolonged “Indeed!” expressed the usher's-astonishment,
+and he turned and whispered a few words to-a footman at his side. He
+disappeared, and returned in & moment to say that her Ladyship would see
+Mr. Haire.
+
+“I trust you will forgive me, sir,” said Lady Lendrick,--a very large,
+very showy, and still handsome woman,--as she motioned him to be seated.
+“I got your card when my head was so full of this tiresome ball, and I
+made the absurd mistake of supposing you came for tickets. You are, I
+think your note says, an old friend of Mr. Thomas-Lendrick?”
+
+“I am an old friend of his father's. Madam! The Chief Baron and myself
+were schoolfellows.”
+
+“Yes, yes: I have no doubt,” said she, hurriedly; “but from your note--I
+have it here somewhere,” and she rummaged amongst a lot of papers that
+littered the table,--“your note gave me to understand that your visit
+to me regarded Mr. Thomas Lendrick, and not the Chief Baron. It is
+possible, however, I may have mistaken your meaning. I wish I could find
+it. I laid it out of my hand a moment ago. Oh, here it is! now we shall
+see which of us is right,” and with a sort of triumph she opened the
+letter and read aloud, slurring over the few commencing lines till she
+came to “that I may explain to your Ladyship the circumstances by
+which Mr. Thomas Lendrick's home will for the present be broken up,
+and entreat of you to extend to his daughter the same kind interest and
+favor you have so constantly extended to her father.” “Now, sir, I hope
+I may say that it is not _I_ have been mistaken. If I read this passage
+aright, it bespeaks my consideration for a young lady who will shortly
+need a home and a protectress.”
+
+“I suppose I expressed myself very ill. I mean, Madam, I take it, that
+in my endeavor not to employ any abruptness, I may have fallen into
+some obscurity. Shall I own, besides,” added he, with a tone of
+half-desperation in his voice, “that I had no fancy for this mission
+of mine at all,--that I undertook it wholly against my will?
+Baron Len-drick's broken health, my old friendship for him, his
+insistence,--and you can understand what _that_ is, eh?”--he thought she
+was about to speak; but she only gave a faint equivocal sort of smile,
+and he went on: “All these together overcame my scruples, and I agreed
+to come.” He paused here as though he had made the fullest and most
+ample explanation, and that it was now her turn to speak.
+
+“Well, sir,” said she, “go on; I am all ears for your communication.”
+
+“There it is: that 's the whole of it, Madam. You are to understand
+distinctly that with the arrangement itself I had no concern whatever.
+Baron Lendrick never asked my advice; I never tendered it. I 'm not sure
+that I should have concurred with his notions,--but that 's nothing to
+the purpose; all that I consented to was to come here, to tell you
+the thing is so, and why it is so--there!” and with this he wiped his
+forehead, for the exertion had heated and fatigued him.
+
+“I know I 'm very dull, very slow of comprehension; and in compassion
+for this defect, will you kindly make your explanation a little, a very
+little, fuller? What is it that is _so?_” and she emphasized the last
+word with a marked sarcasm in her tone.
+
+“Oh, I can see that your Ladyship may not quite like it. There is no
+reason why you should like it,--all things considered; but, after all,
+it may turn out very well. If she suit him, if she can hit it off with
+his temper,--and she may,--young folks have often more forbearance than
+older ones,--there 's no saying what it may lead to.”
+
+“Once for all, sir,” said she, haughtily, for her temper was sorely
+tried, “what is this thing which I am not to like, and yet bound to
+bear?”
+
+“I don't think I said that; I trust I never said your Ladyship was bound
+to bear anything. So well as I can recall the Chief Baron's words,--and,
+God forgive me, but I wish I was--no matter what or where--when I heard
+them,--this is the substance of what he said: 'Tell her,' meaning
+your Ladyship,--'tell her that, rightly understood, the presence of my
+granddaughter as mistress of my house--'”
+
+“What do you say, sir?--is Miss Lendrick coming to reside at the
+Priory?”
+
+“Of course--what else have I been saying this half-hour?”
+
+“To take the position of lady of the house?” said she, not deigning to
+notice his question.
+
+“Just so, Madam.”
+
+“I declare, sir, bold as the step is,”--she arose as she spoke, and drew
+herself haughtily up,--“bold as the step is, it is not half so bold as
+your own courage in coming to tell of it. What the Chief Baron had not
+the hardihood to communicate in writing, you dare to deliver to me by
+word of mouth,--you dare to announce to me that my place, the station
+I ought to fill, is to be occupied by another, and that whenever I pass
+the threshold of the Priory, I come as the guest of Lucy Lendrick! I
+do hope, sir, I may attribute to the confusion of your faculties--a
+confusion of which this short interview has given me proof--that you
+really never rightly apprehended the ignominy of the mission your friend
+intrusted to you.”
+
+“You 're right there,” said he, placing both his hands on the side of
+his head; “confusion is just the name for it.”
+
+“Yes, sir; but I apprehend you must have undertaken this office in a
+calm moment, and let me ask you how you could have lent yourself to
+such a task? You are aware, for the whole world is aware, that in living
+apart from the Chief Baron I am yielding to a necessity imposed by his
+horrible, his insufferable temper; now, how long will this explanation
+be valid, if my place in any respect should be occupied by another? The
+isolation in which he now lives, his estrangement from the world, serve
+to show that he has withdrawn from society, and accepted the position of
+a recluse. Will this continue now? Will these be the habits of the
+house with a young lady at its bead, free to indulge all the caprices of
+ignorant girlhood? I declare, sir, I wonder how a little consideration
+for your friend might not have led you to warn him against the
+indiscretion he was about to commit. The slight to me,” said she,
+sarcastically, and flushing deeply, “it was possible you might overlook;
+but I scarcely see how you could have forgotten the stain that must
+attach to that 'large intellect,--that wise and truly great man.' I
+am quoting a paragraph I read in the 'Post' this morning, with which,
+perhaps, you are familiar.”
+
+“I did not see it,” said Haire, helplessly.
+
+“I declare, sir, I was unjust enough to think you wrote it. I thought no
+one short of him who had come on your errand to-day could have been the
+author.”
+
+“Well, I wish with all my heart I 'd never come,” said he, with a
+melancholy gesture of his hands.
+
+“I declare, sir, I am not surprised at your confession. I suppose you
+are not aware that in the very moment adopted for this--this--this new
+establishment, there is something like studied insult to me. It is only
+ten days ago I mentioned to the Chief Baron that my son, Colonel Sewell,
+was coming back from India on a sick-leave. He has a wife and three
+little children, and, like most soldiers, is not over-well off. I
+suggested that as the Priory was a large roomy house, with abundant
+space for many people without in the slightest degree interfering with
+each other, he should offer the Sewells to take them in. I said nothing
+more,--nothing about _ménage_,--no details of any kind. I simply said:
+“Could n't you give the Sewells the rooms that look out on the back
+lawn? Nobody ever enters them; even when you receive in the summer
+evenings, they are not opened. It would be a great boon to an invalid to
+be housed so quietly, so removed from all noise and bustle.' And to mark
+how I intended no more, I added, 'They would n't bore you, nor need you
+ever see them unless you wished for it.' And what was his reply? 'Madam,
+I never liked soldiers. I 'm not sure that his young wife would n't be
+displeasing to me, and I know that his children would be insufferable.'
+
+“I said, 'Let me take the dear children, then.' 'Do, by all means, and
+their dear parents also,' he broke in. 'I should be in despair if I
+thought I had separated you.' Yes, sir, I give you his very words. This
+wise and truly great man, or truly wise and great--which is it?--had
+nothing more generous nor more courteous to say to me than a sarcasm and
+an impertinence. Are you not proud of your friend?”
+
+Never was there a more unlucky peroration, from the day when Lord Denman
+concluded an eloquent defence of a queen's innocence by appealing to
+the unhappy illustration which called forth the touching words, “Let him
+that is without sin cast the first stone at her.” Never was there a more
+signal blunder than to ask this man to repudiate the friendship which
+had formed the whole pride and glory of his life.
+
+“I should think I _am_ proud of him, Madam,” said he, rising, and
+speaking with a boldness that amazed even himself. “I was proud to be
+his class-fellow at school; I was proud to sit in the same division with
+him in college,--proud when he won his gold medal and carried off his
+fellowship. It was a proud day to me when I saw him take his seat on
+the bench; and my heart nearly burst with pride when he placed me on
+his right hand at dinner, and told the Benchers and the Bar that we
+had walked the road of life together, and that the grasp of my hand--he
+called it my honest hand--had been the ever-present earnest of each
+success he had achieved in his career. Yes, Madam, I am very proud of
+him; and my heart must be cold indeed before I cease to be proud of
+him.”
+
+“I declare, sir, you astonish, you amaze me. I was well aware how that
+truly great and wise man had often inspired the eloquence of attack.
+Many have assailed--many have vituperated him; but that any one
+should have delivered a panegyric on the inestimable value of his
+friendship!--his friendship, of all things!--is what I was not prepared
+for.”
+
+Haire heard the ringing raillery of her laugh; he was stung by he knew
+not what tortures of her scornful impertinence; bitter, biting words,
+very cruel words, too, fell over and around him like a sort of hail;
+they beat on his face and rattled over his head and shoulders. He was
+conscious of a storm, and conscious too that he sought neither shelter
+nor defence, but only tried to fly before the hurricane, whither he knew
+not.
+
+How he quitted that room, descended the stairs, and escaped from the
+house, he never was able to recall. He was far away outside the city
+wandering along through an unfrequented suburb ere he came to his full
+consciousness, murmuring to himself ever as he went, “What a woman, what
+a woman! what a temper,--ay, and what a tongue!” Without any guidance of
+his own--without any consciousness of it--he walked on and on, till
+he found himself at the gate-lodge of the Priory; a carriage was just
+passing in, and he stopped to ask whose it was. It was the Chief Baron's
+granddaughter who had arrived that morning by train. He turned back when
+he heard this, and returned to town. “Whether you like it or not, Lady
+Lendrick, it is done now, and there 's no good in carrying on the issue
+after the verdict.” And with this reflection, embodying possibly as
+much wisdom as his whole career had taught him, he hastened homeward,
+secretly determining, if he possibly could, never to reveal anything to
+the Chief Baron of his late interview with Lady Lendrick.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. SORROWS AND PROJECTS
+
+Dr. Lendrick and his son still lingered at the Swan's Nest after Lucy's
+departure for the Priory. Lendrick, with many things to arrange and
+prepare for his coming voyage, was still so overcome by the thought of
+breaking up his home and parting from his children, that he could not
+address his mind to anything like business. He would wander about for
+hours through the garden and the shrubberies, taking leave, as he
+called it, of his dear plants and flowers, and come back to the house
+distressed and miserable. Often and often would he declare to Sir Brook,
+who was his guest, that the struggle was too much for him. “I never
+was a man of ardor or energy, and it is not now, when I have passed the
+middle term of life, that I am to hope for that spring and elasticity
+which were denied to my youth. Better for me send for Lucy, and stay
+where I am; nowhere shall I be so happy again.” Then would come the
+sudden thought that all this was mere selfishness, that in this life of
+inaction and indolence he was making no provision for that dear girl be
+loved so well. Whatever hopes the reconciliation with his father might
+lead to, would of course be utterly scattered to the winds by an act
+so full of disobedience as this. “It is true,” thought he, “I may fail
+abroad as I have failed at home. Success and I are scarcely on speaking
+terms,--but the grandfather cannot leave the granddaughter whom he has
+taken from her home, totally uncared and unprovided for.”
+
+As for young Tom, Sir Brook had pledged himself to-take care of him. It
+was a vague expression enough; it might mean anything, everything, or
+nothing. Sir Brook Fossbrooke had certainly, in worldly parlance, not
+taken very good care of himself,--far from it; he had squandered and
+made away with two large estates and an immense sum in ready money. It
+was true he had friends everywhere,--some of them very great people
+with abundant influence, and well able to help those they cared for; but
+Fossbrooke was not one of those who ask; and the world has not yet come
+to the millennial beatitude in which one's friends importune them with
+inquiries how they are to be helped, what and where they wish for.
+
+Many a time in the course of country-house life--at breakfast, as
+the post came in, and during the day, as a messenger would deliver a
+telegram--some great man would say, “There is a vacancy there--such
+a one has died--so-and-so has retired. There's a thing to suit you,
+Fossbrooke,”--and Sir Brook would smile, say a word or two that implied
+nothing, and so would end the matter. If “my Lord” ever retained any
+memory of the circumstance some time after, it would be that he had
+offered something to Fossbrooke, who would n't take it, did n't care for
+it. For so is it throughout life; the event which to one is the veriest
+trifle of the hour, is to another a fate and a fortune; and then, great
+folk who lead lives of ease and security are very prone to forget that
+humble men have often a pride very disproportioned to their condition,
+and are timidly averse to stretch out the hand for what it is just
+possible it may not be intended they should touch.
+
+At all events, Fossbrooke went his way through the world a mystery to
+many and a puzzle,--some averring that it was a shame to his friends in
+power that he had “got nothing,” others as stoutly declaring that he was
+one whom no office would tempt, nor would any place requite him for the
+loss of liberty and independence.
+
+He himself was well aware of each of these theories, but too proud to
+say a word to those who professed either of them. If, however, he was
+too haughty to ask for himself, he was by no means above being a suitor
+for his friends; and many a one owed to his active solicitude the
+advancement which none stood more in need of than himself.
+
+“We shall make the Viceroy do something for us, Tom,” he would say.
+“Think over what it shall be,--for that's the invariable question, What
+is it you want? And it's better far to say, Make me an archbishop, than
+have to own that you want anything, and are, maybe, fit for nothing.”
+
+Though Lendrick was well disposed towards Fossbrooke, and fully sensible
+of his manly honesty and frankness, he could not help seeing that he
+was one of those impulsive sanguine natures that gain nothing from
+experience beyond the gift of companionship. They acquire all that can
+make them delightful in society,--boons they are,--and especially to
+those whose more prudent temperament inclines them to employ their gifts
+more profitably. Scores of these self-made men, rich to overflowing with
+all that wealth could buy around them, would say, What a happy fellow
+was Fossbrooke! what a blessing it was to have his nature, his spirits,
+buoyancy, and such-like,--to be able to enjoy life as he did! Perhaps
+they believed all that they said too,--who knows? When they made such
+speeches to himself, as they would at times, he heard them with the
+haughty humility of one who hears himself praised for that which the
+flatterer deems a thing too low for envy. He well understood how cheaply
+others estimated his wares, for they were a scrip that figured in no
+share-list, and never were quoted at a premium.
+
+Lendrick read him very correctly, and naturally thought that a more
+practical and a more worldly guide would have been better for Tom,--some
+one to hold him back, not to urge him forward; some one to whisper
+prudence, restraint, denial,--not daring, and dash, and indulgence. But
+somehow these flighty, imaginative, speculative men have very often a
+wonderful persuasiveness about them, and can give to the wildest dreams
+a marvellous air of substance and reality. A life so full of strange
+vicissitudes as Fossbrooke's seemed a guarantee for any--no matter
+what--turn of fortune. Hear him tell of where he had been, what he had
+done, and with whom, and you at once felt you were in presence of one to
+whom no ordinary laws of worldly caution or prudence applied.
+
+That his life had compassed many failures and few successes was plain
+enough. He never sought to hide the fact.
+
+Indeed, he was candor itself in his confessions, only that he
+accompanied them by little explanations, showing the exact spot and
+moment in which he had lost the game. It was wonderful what credit he
+seemed to derive from these disclosures. It was like an honest trader
+showing his balance-sheet to prove that, but for the occurrence of such
+ills as no prudence could ward off, his condition must have been one of
+prosperity.
+
+Never did he say anything more truthful than that “he had never cared
+for money.” So long as he had it he used it lavishly, thoughtlessly,
+very often generously. When he ceased to have it, the want scarcely
+appeared to touch him personally. Indeed, it was only when some
+necessity presented itself to aid this one or extricate that, he would
+suddenly remember his impotence to be of use, and then the sting of his
+poverty would sorely pain him.
+
+Like all men who have suffered reverses, he had to experience the
+different acceptance he met with in his days of humble fortune from what
+greeted him in his era of prosperity. If he felt this, none could detect
+it. His bearing and manner betrayed nothing of such consciousness. A
+very slight increase of stateliness might possibly have marked him in
+his poverty, and an air of more reserved dignity, which showed itself in
+his manner to strangers. In all other respects he was the same.
+
+That such a character should have exercised a great influence over
+a young man like Tom Lendrick--ardent, impetuous, and desirous of
+adventure--was not strange.
+
+“We must make a fortune for Lucy, Tom,” said Sir Brook. “Your father's
+nature is too fine strung to be a money-maker, and she must be cared
+for.” This was a desire which he continued to utter day after day; and
+though Fossbrooke usually smoked on after he had said it without any
+intimation as to where and when and how this same fortune was to be
+amassed, Tom Lendrick placed the most implicit faith in the assurance
+that it would be done “somehow.”
+
+One morning as Lendrick was walking with his son in the garden, making,
+as he called it, his farewell visit to his tulips and moss-roses, he
+asked Tom if any fixed plan had been decided on as to his future.
+
+“We have got several, sir. The difficulty is the choice. Sir Brook was
+at one time very full of buying a great tract in Donegal, and stocking
+it with all sorts of wild animals. We began with deer, antelopes, and
+chamois; and last night we got to wolves, bears, and a tiger. We were
+to have a most commodious shooting-box, and invite parties to come and
+sport, who, instead of going to Bohemia, the Rocky Mountains, and to
+Africa, would find all their savagery near home, and pay us splendidly
+for the privilege.
+
+“There are some difficulties in the plan, it is true; our beasts might
+not be easy to keep within bounds. The jaguar might make an excursion
+into the market-town; the bear might eat a butcher. Sir Brook, besides,
+doubts if _fero_ could be preserved under the game laws. He has sent a
+case to Brewster for his opinion.”
+
+“Don't tell me of such absurdities,” said Lendrick, trying to repress
+his quiet laugh. “I want you to speak seriously and reasonably.”
+
+“I assure you, sir, we have the whole details of this on paper, even to
+the cost of the beasts, and the pensions to the widows of the keepers
+that may be devoured. Another plan that we had, and it looked plausible
+enough too, was to take out a patent for a wonderful medical antidote.
+As Sir Brook says, there is nothing like a patent medicine to make a man
+rich; and by good luck he is possessed of the materials for one. He
+has the secret for curing the bite of the rattlesnake. He got it from
+a Tuscarora Indian, who, I believe, was a sort of father-in-law to him.
+Three applications of this to the wound have never been known to fail.”
+
+“But we are not infested with rattlesnakes, Tom.”
+
+“That's true, sir. We thought of that, and decided that we should alter
+the prospectus of our company, and we have called it 'The antidote to an
+evil of stupendous magnitude and daily recurrence.
+
+“A new method of flotation in water, by inflating the cellular membrane
+to produce buoyancy; a translation of the historical plays of Shakspeare
+into Tonga, for the interesting inhabitants of those islands; artificial
+rainfall by means of the voltaic battery: these are a few of his
+jottings down in a little book in manuscript he has entitled 'Things to
+be Done.'
+
+“His favorite project, however, is one he has revolved for years in his
+mind, and he is fully satisfied that it contains the germ of boundless
+wealth. It has been shown, he says, that in the smoke issuing from the
+chimneys of great smelt-ing-furnaces, particles of subtilized metal are
+carried away to the amount of thousands of pounds sterling: not merely
+is the quantity great, but the quality, as might be inferred, is of the
+most valuable and precious kind. To arrest and precipitate this waste is
+his project, and he has been for years making experiments to this end.
+He has at length, he believes, arrived at the long-sought-for problem;
+and as he possesses a lead-mine in the island of Sardinia, he means that
+we should set out there, and at once begin operations.”
+
+Dr. Lendrick shook his head gravely as he listeued; indeed, Tom's manner
+in detailing Sir Brook's projects was little calculated to inspire
+serious confidence.
+
+“I know, father,” cried he, “what you mean. I know well how wild
+and flighty these things appear; but if you had only heard them from
+him,--had you but listened to his voice, and heard him speak of his
+own doubts and fears,--how he canvasses, not merely the value of his
+project, but what the world will say of it and of him,--how modestly he
+rates himself,--how free of all the cant of the discoverer he is,--how
+simply he enters into explanations,--how free to own the difficulties
+that bar success,--I say, if you had experienced these, I feel sure
+you would not escape from him without catching some of that malady of
+speculation which has so long beset him. Nor is one less disposed to
+trust him that he makes no parade of these things. Indeed, they are his
+deepest, most inviolable secrets. In his intercourse with the world no
+one has ever heard him allude to one of these projects, and I have given
+him my solemn pledge not to speak of them, save to you.”
+
+“It is a reason to think better of the man, Tom, but not to put more
+faith in the discoveries.”
+
+“I believe I take the man and his work together; at all events, when I
+am along with him, and listening to him, he carries me away captive, and
+I am ready to embark in any enterprise he suggests. Here he comes, with
+two letters, I see, in his hand. Did you ever see a man less like a
+visionary, father? Is not every trait of his marked with thought and
+struggle?” This was not the way Tom's father read Fossbrooke, but there
+was no time to discuss the point further.
+
+“A letter for each of you,” said Sir Brook, handing them; and then
+taking out a cigar, he strolled down an alley, while they were engaged
+in reading.
+
+“We have got a tenant at last,” said Lendrick. “The Dublin house-agent
+has found some one who will take the place as it stands; and now, to
+think of my voyage.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY.
+
+It was well for poor Lendrick that he was not to witness the great
+change which, in a few short weeks, had been effected in his once home.
+So complete, indeed, was the transformation, there was but very little
+left beyond the natural outline of the scenery to remind one of that
+lovely nook in which the tasteful cottage nestled. The conservatory had
+been converted into a dining-room; the former dinner-room being fitted
+up for a billiard-room. The Swiss cowhouse, a pretty little conceit, on
+which Lendrick had lavished some money and more time, was turned into
+a stable, with three loose boxes; and the neat lawn, whose velvet sward
+was scarce less beautiful than the glittering flower-beds that studded
+it, was ruthlessly cut up into a racecourse, with hurdles and fences and
+double ditches, to represent a stiff country, and offer all the features
+of a steeple-chase.
+
+It needed not the assurance of Mr. Kimball, the house-agent, to proclaim
+that his client was very unlike the last occupant of the place. “_He_
+was no recluse, no wretched misanthropist, hiding his discontent amongst
+shrubs and forcing-beds; he was a man of taste and refinement, with
+knowledge of life and its requirements. He would be an acquisition to
+any neighborhood.”
+
+Now, the last phrase--and he invariably made it his peroration--has a
+very wide and sweeping acceptation. It appeals to the neighborhood with
+all the charms that pertain to social intercourse; a guest the more and
+a host the more are no small claims in small places. It appeals to the
+parson, as another fountain from which to draw draughts of benevolence.
+To the doctor it whispers fees and familiar dinners. Galen knows that
+the luckiest of men are not exempt from human ills, and that gout comes
+as a frequent guest where the cook is good and the wine tempting;
+and the butcher himself revels in the thought of a “good family” that
+consumes sirloins and forestalls sweetbreads.
+
+It was somewhat trying to young Tom Lendrick, who had gone down to the
+Nest to fetch away some remnants of fishing-tackle he had left there, to
+hear these glowing anticipations of the new-comer, so evidently placed
+in contrast with the quiet and inexpensive life his father had led. How
+unlike were his father and this “acquisition to any neighborhood,”
+ was impressed upon him at any moment! How could a life of unobtrusive
+kindness, of those daily ministerings to poor men's wants, compete with
+the glitter and display which were to adorn a neighborhood?
+
+Already were people beginning to talk of Lendrick as odd, eccentric,
+peculiar; to set down his finest qualities as strange traits of a
+strange temperament, and rather, on the whole, to give themselves credit
+for the patience and forbearance which they had shown to one who, after
+all, was “simply an egotist.”
+
+Yes, such are not unfrequent judgments in this same world of ours; and
+if you would have men's suffrages for the good you do, take care that
+you do it conventionally. Be in all things like those around you; and if
+there be a great man in your vicinity, whenever a doubt arises in your
+mind as to any course of action, do as you may imagine he might do.
+
+Young Lendrick came away not a little disgusted with this taste of human
+fickleness. The sight of their old home changed even to desecration was
+bad enough, but this cold ingratitude was worse.
+
+Had he gone into the cabins of the poor, had he visited the humble
+dwellings where his father's generous devotion had brought him face
+to face with famine and fever, he would have heard much to redress the
+balance of these opinions. He would have heard those warm praises
+that come from sorrow-stricken hearts, the wail of the friendless and
+forlorn. Tom heard not these, and he returned to town with a feeling of
+anger and resentment against the world he had never known before.
+
+“How absurd it is in old Fossbrooke,” thought he, “to go on saying money
+cannot do this, that, and t'other! Why, it can do everything. It does
+not alone make a man great, powerful, and influential, but it gains him
+the praise of being good and kind and generous. Look at my poor father,
+who never had a thought but for others, who postponed himself to all
+around him; and yet here is some one, whose very name is unknown, more
+eagerly looked for, more ardently desired, than would he be were it to
+be announced to-morrow he was coming back to live amongst them. What
+nonsense it is to say that the world cares for any qualities save those
+it can utilize; and I am only amazed how a man could have seen so much
+of life as Sir Brook and gained so little by his experience.”
+
+It was in this mood he got back to the little lodging in a humble suburb
+called Cullen's Wood, where Sir Brook awaited him. It is not impossible
+that the disparities of temperament in this world are just as
+beneficial, just as grateful, as are the boundless variety and change we
+find in nature. To Tom Lendrick's depression, almost disgust with life,
+Sir Brook brought that bright, hopeful, happy spirit which knew how to
+throw sunlight on every path to be travelled.
+
+He had received good news, or what he thought was good news, from
+Sardinia. A new vein of ore had been struck,--very “fat” ore they called
+it,--some eighty-odd per cent, and a fair promise of silver in it. “They
+ask me for thirty thousand francs, though, Tom,” said he, with a smile;
+“they might as well have written 'pounds' when they were about it. They
+want to repair the engine and erect a new crane. They say, too, the
+chains are worn and unsafe,--a thing to be looked to, or we shall have
+some accidents. In fact, they need fully double what they ask for; and
+seeing how impossible was the performance, I am astonished at their
+modesty.”
+
+“And what do you mean to do, sir?” asked Tom, bluntly.
+
+“I have been thinking of two courses: my first thought was to make a
+formal conveyance of the mine to you and your sister, for your joint use
+and benefit. This done, and I standing aloof from all possible interest
+in it, I bethought me of a loan to be raised on the security of the
+property,--not publicly, not generally, but amongst your father's
+friends and well-wishers,--beginning with the neighborhood where he has
+lived so long, and around which he has sowed the seeds of such benefits
+as needs must ripen in gratitude.”
+
+“Indulge no delusions on that score, sir. There is not a man in the
+county, except old Mills the vicar, perhaps, has a good word for us; and
+as to going to one of them for assistance, I 'd rather sweep a
+crossing. You shake your head, Sir Brook, and you smile at my passionate
+denunciation; but it is true, every word of it. I heard, in the
+few hours I spent there, scores of stories of my poor father's
+eccentricity,--his forgetfulness, his absence, and what not,--but
+never a syllable of his noble liberality, his self-sacrifice, or his
+gentleness.”
+
+“My dear Tom,” said the old man, solemnly, “when you have lived to
+one-half my age, you will discover that the world is not so much cursed
+with ill-nature as with levity, and that when men talk disparagingly of
+their fellows, they do so rather to seem witty than to be just. There
+was not, perhaps, one of those who tried to raise a laugh at your
+father's oddities, or who assumed to be droll at his expense, who would
+not in a serious mood have conceded to him every good and great trait
+of his nature. The first step in worldly knowledge is to rise above all
+consideration of light gossip. Take my word for it, we often confirm men
+in wrong thinking by opposition, who, if left to themselves and their
+own hearts, would review their judgments, and even retract them.”
+
+Tom took a hasty turn up and down the room; a ready reply was on his
+lip; indeed, it was with difficulty he repressed it, but he did so, and
+stood in seeming acquiescence to what he had heard. At last he said,
+“And the other plan, Sir Brook,--what was that?”
+
+“Perhaps a more likely one, Tom,” said the old man, cheerfully. “It was
+to apply directly to your grandfather, a man whose great intelligence
+would enable him to examine a project with whose details he had not ever
+before versed himself, and ask whether he would not make the advance we
+require on mortgage or otherwise.”
+
+“I don't think I 'd like to ask him,” said Tom, with a grim smile.
+
+“The proposal could come from me,” said Sir Brook, proudly, “if he would
+graciously accord me an interview.”
+
+Tom turned away to hide a smile, for he thought, if such a meeting were
+to take place, what he would give to be an unseen witness of it,--to
+watch the duel between antagonists so different, and whose weapons were
+so unlike.
+
+“My sister knows him better than any of us,” said Tom, at last; “might I
+consult her as to the likelihood of any success with him?”
+
+“By all means; it is what I would have myself advised.”
+
+“I will do so, then, to-day. I ought to have gone to see her yesterday;
+but I will go to-day, and report progress when I come back. I have a
+long budget for her,” added he, with a sigh,--“a catalogue of all the
+things I am not going to do. I am not going to be a medallist, nor win
+a fellowship, nor even be a doctor; it will, however, give me great
+courage if I can say, I 'll be a miner.”
+
+Tom Lendrick was right when he said he should have gone to see his
+sister on the day before, though he was not fully aware how right. The
+Chief Baron, in laying down a few rules for Lucy's guidance, made a
+point of insisting that she should only receive visitors on one day of
+the week; and in this regulation he included even her brother. So averse
+was the old man to be exposed to even a passing meeting with strangers,
+that on these Tuesdays he either kept his room or retired to a little
+garden of which he kept the key, and from whose precincts all were
+rigorously excluded.
+
+Well knowing her brother's impatience of anything like restricted
+liberty, and how rapidly he would connect such an injunction as this
+with a life of servitude and endurance, Lucy took care to make the time
+of receiving him appear a matter of her own choice and convenience, and
+at the time of parting would say, “Good-bye till Tuesday, Tom; don't
+forget Tuesday, for we shall be sure to be alone and to ourselves.” He
+the more easily believed this, that on these same Tuesdays the whole
+place seemed deserted and desolate. The grave-looking man in black, who
+preceded him up the stairs, ushered him along the corridor, and finally
+announced him, awaited him like a piece of machinery, repeating every
+movement and gesture with an unbroken uniformity, and giving him to
+understand that not only his coming was expected, but all the details of
+his reception had been carefully prescribed and determined on.
+
+“As I follow that fellow along the passage, Lucy,” said Tom, one day, “I
+can't help thinking that I experience every sensation of a man going to
+be hanged,--his solemn face, his measured tread, the silence, and the
+gloom,--only needing pinioned arms to make the illusion perfect.”
+
+“Tie them around me, dearest Tom,” said she, laughing, and drawing him
+to a seat beside her on the sofa; “and remember,” added she, “you have
+a long day. Your sentence will not come off for another week;” and thus
+jestingly did she contrive to time his coming without ever letting him
+know the restrictions that defined his visits.
+
+Now, the day before this conversation between Sir Brook and Tom took
+place being a Tuesday, Lucy had watched long and anxiously for his
+coming. She knew he had gone down to Killaloe on the preceding Saturday,
+but he had assured her he would be back and be with her by Tuesday.
+Lucy's life was far from unhappy, but it was one of unbroken uniformity,
+and the one sole glimpse of society was that meeting with her brother,
+whose wayward thoughts and capricious notions imparted to all he said
+a something striking and amusing. He usually told her how his week had
+been passed,--where he had been and with whom,--and she had learned to
+know his companions, and ask after them by name. Her chief interest was,
+however, about Sir Brook, from whom Tom usually brought a few lines,
+but always in an unsealed envelope, inscribed, “By the favor of Mr.
+Lendrick, jun.”
+
+How often would Tom quiz her about the respectful devotion of her old
+admirer, and jestingly ask her if she could consent to marry him. “I
+know he'll ask you the question one of these days, Lucy, and it's your
+own fault if you give him such encouragement as may mislead him.” And
+then they would talk over the romance of the old man's nature, wondering
+whether the real world would be rendered more tolerable or the reverse
+by that ideal tone which so imaginative a temperament could give it “Is
+it not strange,” said Tom, one day, “that I can see all the weakness of
+his character wherever my own interests do not come, but the moment he
+presents before me some bright picture of a splendid future, a great
+name to achieve, a great fortune to make, that moment he takes me
+captive, and I regard him not as a visionary or a dreamer, but as a man
+of consummate shrewdness and great knowledge of life?”
+
+“In this you resemble Sancho Panza, Tom,” said she, laughing. “He had
+little faith in his master's chivalry, but he implicitly believed in the
+island he was to rule over;” and from that day forward she called her
+brother Sancho and Sir Brook the Don.
+
+On the day after that on which Tom's visit should have been but was
+not paid, Lucy sat at luncheon with her grandfather in a small
+breakfast-room which opened on the lawn. The old Judge was in unusual
+spirits; he had just received an address from the Bar, congratulating
+him on his recovery, and expressing hope that he might be soon again
+seen on that Bench he had so much ornamented by his eloquence and his
+wisdom. The newspapers, too, with a fickleness that seems their most
+invariable feature, spoke most flatteringly of his services, and placed
+his name beside those who had conferred highest honor on the judgeship.
+
+“It is neatly worded, Lucy,” said the old man, taking up the paper on
+which the address was written; “and the passage that compares me with
+Mansfield is able as well as true. Both Mansfield and myself understood
+how there stands above all written law that higher, greater, grander
+law, that is based in the heart of all humanity, in the hope of an
+eternal justice, and soars above every technicality, by the intense
+desire of truth. It would have been, however, no more than fair to have
+added that, to an intellect the equal of Mansfield, I brought a temper
+which Mansfield had not, and a manner which if found in the courts
+of royalty, is seldom met with on the Bench. I do not quite like
+that phrase, 'the rapid and unerring glance of Erskine.' Erskine was
+brilliant for a Scotchman, but a brilliant Scotchman is but a third-rate
+Irishman. They who penned this might have known as much. I am better
+pleased with the words, 'the noble dignity of Lord Eldon.' There, my
+child, there, they indeed have hit upon a characteristic. In Eldon
+nature seemed to have created the judicial element in a high degree. It
+would be the vulgarity of modesty to pretend not to recognize in my own
+temperament a like organization.
+
+“May I read you, Lucy, the few words in which I mean to reply to this
+courteous address? Will it bore you, my dear?”
+
+“On the contrary, sir, I shall feel myself honored as well as
+interested.”
+
+“Sit where you are, then, and I will retire to the far corner of the
+room. You shall judge if my voice and delivery be equal to the effort;
+for I mean to return my thanks in person, Lucy. I mean to add the force
+of my presence to the vigor of my sentiments. I have bethought me of
+inviting those who have signed this document to luncheon here; and it
+may probably be in the large drawing-room that I shall deliver this
+reply. If not, it may possibly be in my court before rising,--I have not
+fully determined.” So saying, he arose, and with feeble steps--assisting
+himself, as he went, by the table, and then grasping a chair--he moved
+slowly across the room. She knew him too well to dare to offer her arm,
+or appear in any way to perceive his debility. That he felt, and felt
+bitterly, “the curse of old age,” as he once profanely called it, might
+be marked in the firm compression of his lips and the stern frown that
+settled on him, while, as he sank into a seat, a sad weary sigh declared
+the utter exhaustion that overcame him.
+
+It was not till after some minutes that he rallied sufficiently to
+unroll his manuscript and adjust his spectacles. The stillness in the
+room was now perfect; not a sound was heard save the faint hum of a bee
+which had strayed into the room, and was vaguely floating about to
+find an exit. Lucy sat in an attitude of patient attention,--her hands
+crossed before her, and her eyes slightly downcast.
+
+A faint low cough, and he began, but in a voice tremulous and faint,
+“'Mr. Chief Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar'--do you hear me, Lucy?”
+
+“Yes, sir, I hear you.”
+
+“I will try to be more audible; I will rest for a moment.” fie laid his
+paper on his knees, closed his eyes, and sat immovable for some seconds.
+
+It was at this moment, when to the intense stillness was added a sense
+of expectancy, the honeysuckle that grew across the window moved, the
+frail branches gave way, and a merry voice called out, “Scene the first:
+a young lady discovered at luncheon!” and with a spring Tom Lendrick
+bounced into the room, and, ere her cry of alarm had ended, was clasping
+his sister in his arms.
+
+“Oh, Tom, dearest Tom, why to-day? Grandpapa--grandpapa is here,” sighed
+she, rather than whispered, in his ear.
+
+The young man started back, more struck by the emotion he had shown than
+by her words, and the Chief Baron advanced towards him with a manner
+of blended courtesy and dignity, saying, “I am glad to know you. Your
+sister's brother must be very welcome to me.”
+
+“I wish I could make a proper excuse for this mode of entry, sir. First
+of all, I thought Lucy was alone; and, secondly--”
+
+“Never mind the second plea; I submit to a verdict on the first,” said
+the Judge, smiling.
+
+“Tom forgot; it was Tuesday was his day,” began Lucy.
+
+“I have no day; days are all alike to me, Lucy. My occupations of
+Monday could be transferred to a Saturday, or, if need be, postponed
+indefinitely beyond it.”
+
+“The glorious leisure of the fortunate,” said the Judge, with a peculiar
+smile.
+
+“Or the vacuity of the unlucky, possibly,” said Tom, with an easy laugh.
+
+“At all events, young gentleman, you carry your load jauntily.”
+
+“One reason is, perhaps, that I never knew it was a load. I have always
+paraded in heavy marching order, so that I don't mind the weight of my
+pack.”
+
+For the first time did the old man's features relax into a look of
+kindly meaning. To find the youth not merely-equal to appreciate a
+figure of speech, but able to carry on the illustration, seemed so to
+identify him with his own blood and kindred that the old Judge felt
+himself instinctively drawn towards him.
+
+“Lucy, help your brother to something; there was an excellent curry
+there awhile ago,--if it be not cold.”
+
+“I have set my affections on that cold beef. It seems tome an age since
+I have seen a real sirloin.”
+
+A slight twitch crossed the Judge's face,--a pang he felt at what might
+be an insinuated reproach at his in hospitality; and he said, in a
+tone of almost apology, “We see no one---absolutely no one--here. Lucy
+resigns herself to the companionship of a very dreary old man whom all
+else have forgotten.”
+
+“Don't say so, grandpapa, on the day when such a testimony of esteem and
+affection reaches you.”
+
+Young Lendrick looked up from his plate, turning his eyes first towards
+his sister, then towards his grandfather; his glance was so palpably an
+interrogatory, there was no-mistaking it. Perhaps the old man's first
+impulse was not to reply; but his courtesy or his vanity, or a blending
+of both, carried the day, and he said, in a voice of much feeling: “Your
+sister refers to an address I have just received,--an address which
+the Irish Bar have deemed proper to transmit to me with their
+congratulations on my recovery. It is as gratifying, it is as
+flattering, as she says. My brethren have shown that they can rise above
+all consideration of sect or party in tendering their esteem to a man
+whom no administration has ever been able to convert into a partisan.”
+
+“But you have always been a Whig, sir, haven't you?” said Tom, bluntly.
+
+“I have been a Whig, sir, in the sense that a King is a Royalist,” said
+the old man, haughtily; and though Tom felt sorely provoked to reply
+to this pretentious declaration, he only gave a wicked glance at his
+sister, and drank off his wine.
+
+“It was at the moment of your unexpected appearance,” continued the
+Judge, “that I was discussing with your sister whether my reply to this
+compliment would come better if delivered here, or from my place on the
+Bench.”
+
+“I 'd say from the Bench,” said Tom, as he helped himself to another
+slice of beef.
+
+The old man gave a short cough, with a start. The audacity of tendering
+advice so freely and positively overcame him; and his color, faint
+indeed, rose to his withered cheek, and his eye glittered as he said,
+“Might I have the benefit of hearing the reasons which have led you to
+this opinion?”
+
+“First of all,” said Tom, in a careless off-hand way, “I take it the
+thing would have more--what shall I say?--dignity; secondly, the men
+who have signed the address might feel they were treated with more
+consideration; and lastly,--it 's not a very good reason, but I 'm
+bound to own it,--I 'd like to hear it myself, which I could if it were
+delivered in public, but which I am not so likely to do if spoken here.”
+
+“Oh, Tom, dear Tom!” whispered his sister, in dismay at a speech so
+certain to be accepted in its least pleasing signification.
+
+“You have already to-day reminded me of my deficiencies in hospitality,
+sir. This second admonition was uncalled for. It is happy for _me_ that
+my defence is unassailable. It is happy for _you_ that your impeachment
+is unwitnessed.”
+
+“You have mistaken me, sir,” said Tom, eagerly. “I never thought of
+reflecting on your hospitality. I simply meant to say that as I find
+myself here to-day by a lucky accident, I scarcely look to Fortune to do
+me such another good turn in a hurry.”
+
+“Your father's fault--a fault that would have shipwrecked fourfold
+more ability than ever he possessed--was a timidity that went to very
+cowardice. He had no faith in himself, and he inspired no confidence
+in others. Yours is, if possible, a worse failing. You have boldness
+without knowledge. You have the rashness that provokes a peril, and
+no part of the skill that teaches how to meet it. It was with a wise
+prescience that I saw we should not be safe company for each other.”
+
+He arose as he spoke, and, motioning back Lucy as she approached to
+offer her arm, he tottered from the room, to all seeming more overcome
+by passion than even by years and infirmity.
+
+“Well!” said Tom, as he threw his napkin on the table, and pushed his
+chair back, “I 'll be shot if I know how I provoked that burst of
+anger, or to what I owe that very neat and candid appreciation of my
+character.”
+
+Lucy threw her arm around his neck, and, bending over his shoulder till
+her face touched his own, said, “Oh, my dearest Tom, if you only knew
+how nervous and susceptible he is, in part from his nature, but more,
+far more, from suffering and sorrow! Left to the solitude of his own
+bitter thoughts for years, without one creature to whisper a kind word
+or a hopeful thought, is it any wonder if his heart has begun to consume
+itself?”
+
+“Devilish bitter diet it must find it! Pass me over the Madeira, Lucy.
+I mean to have my last glass to the old gentleman's health and better
+temper.”
+
+“He has moments of noble generosity that would win all your love,” said
+she, enthusiastically.
+
+“You have a harder lot than ever I thought it, my poor Lucy,” said
+he, looking into her eyes with an affectionate solicitude. “This is so
+unlike our old home.”
+
+“Oh, so unlike!” said she; and her lip quivered and her eyes grew glazy.
+
+“And can you bear it, girl? Does it not seem to you like a servitude to
+put up with such causeless passion, such capricious anger as this?”
+
+She shook her head mournfully, but made no answer.
+
+“If it be your woman's nature enables you to do it, all I can say is, I
+don't envy you your sex.”
+
+“But, Tom, remember his years,--remember his age.”
+
+“By Jove, he took good care to remind me of my own!--not that he was so
+far wrong in what he said of me, Lucy. I felt all the while he had 'hit
+the blot,' and I would have owned it too, if he had n't taken himself
+off so quickly.”
+
+“If you had, Tom,--if you had said but one word to this purport,--you
+would have seen how nobly forgiving he could be in an instant.”
+
+“Forgiving,--humph! I don't think the forgiveness was to have come from
+_him_.”
+
+“Sir William wishes to speak with you, Miss Lucy,” said the butler,
+entering hastily.
+
+“I must go, Tom,--good-bye. I will write to you tomorrow,--to-night, if
+I can,--good-bye, my dearest brother; be sure to come on Tuesday,--mind,
+Tuesday. You will be certain to find me alone.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE FIRST LETTER HOME.
+
+The post of the morning after the events of our last chapter brought
+Lucy a letter from her father. It was the first since his departure.
+What chapters in life are these first letters after absence! How do
+they open to us glimpses of not only new scenes and incidents, but of
+emotions and sentiments which, while we had relied upon them, we had
+never so palpably realized before! There is such ecstasy in thinking
+that time and space are no barriers against love, and that, even as we
+read, the heart that sent the message is beating with affection for us.
+
+Lendrick's letter to his daughter was full of fondness; her image had
+evidently gone with him through all the changes of the voyage, and their
+old home mingled in every thought of the new life before him. It was
+plain enough how unwillingly he turned from the past to the present, and
+how far rather he would revel in the scenes around the Shannon than turn
+to the solitary existence that awaited him beyond the seas.
+
+“I console myself, dear Lucy,” wrote he, “as well as I may, by thinking
+that in my great sacrifice I have earned the love of my father,--that
+love from which I have lived so long estranged, and for which my heart
+had never ceased to yearn; and I delight to think how by this time
+you must have grown into his heart, soothed many a care for him, and
+imparted to his solitary life the blessing of that bright hopefulness
+which gave even to my own dull existence a glow of glad sunshine. Out
+of my selfishness I cannot help asking you to remind him of all I have
+given him. And now that my egotism is so fully aroused, let me tell of
+myself. The voyage was less dreary than my fears had made it. I suffered
+at first, it is true; and when at last use had inured me to the sea, I
+fell into a sort of low feverish state, more the result of homesickness,
+perhaps, than real malady. It was a condition of rather depression than
+disease. Nothing could engage, nothing interest me. I could not read,
+neither could I partake in any of the various pastimes by which my
+fellow-voyagers beguiled the hours; and I found myself in that pitiable
+state of sinking daily lower and lower, without what I could call a
+cause for the depression.
+
+“I have more than once in my experience as a doctor had to deal with
+such cases, and I own now that I have neither valued their intensity
+nor understood their importance. I did not, it is true, go to the vulgar
+extent of calling them hippishness; but I did the next worse thing,--I
+treated them as the offspring of an over-easy existence, of a placid
+frictionless life.
+
+“With much shame do I recall how often I have rallied these poor
+sufferers on the vast space that separated them from real sorrow. There
+is no unreality, dearest Lucy, in whatever so overcomes the brain that
+thought is all but madness, and so pains the heart that the whole wish
+is for death. There are subtler influences in our nature than those that
+work by the brain or the blood, and the maladies of these have but one
+physician.
+
+“It was my great good-fortune to have a fellow-traveller who took the
+kindest interest in me. If he could not cure, he certainly did much
+to console me. He was a young man, lately gazetted on the
+commander-in-chief's staff, and who came on board of us in the Downs
+from a frigate bound for England. It was the merest accident that he did
+not miss us and lose his passage.
+
+“I am not a very attractive person, and it was with some astonishment
+that I heard he desired to make my acquaintance; and on meeting he said,
+'Though you have forgotten me, Dr. Lendrick, I had the honor of being
+presented to you at Killaloe by my friend Sir Brook Fossbrooke;' and
+I then remembered all about it, and how it was his features were so
+familiar to me,--very good features, too, they were, with much candor
+and manliness in the expression,--altogether a handsome young fellow,
+and with an air of good birth about him just as distinctive as his good
+looks.
+
+“I am so unused to being singled out by a stranger as the object of
+attentions, that I never fully got over the surprise which this young
+man's attachment to me inspired; and I am not using too strong a word,
+Lucy, when I call it attachment. There might have been, at least to his
+eyes, something in our respective fortunes that suggested this drawing
+towards me. Who knows whether he too might not have parted from a loved
+home and friends!
+
+“When he first came on board, his manner was wild,--almost incoherent;
+he ran here and there, like one in search of something or of somebody,
+but whose name he had forgotten. Indeed he actually startled me by the
+eagerness with which he addressed me; and when I informed him that I was
+alone, quite alone, and as friendles as himself on board, I thought he
+would have fainted. In all this suffering and emotion I suspected that
+I found what led him to a companionship with one as sorrow-stricken as
+himself.
+
+“As it was, there was no care he did not bestow on me. My own dear boy
+himself could not have nursed me more tenderly, nor tried to rally my
+spirits with more affectionate solicitude. He read for me, played chess
+with me, he even lent himself to the sort of reading I liked best, to
+become more companionable to me, withdrawing all this while from the gay
+and pleasant society of young fellows like himself. In a word, Lucy, by
+his devotion to me, he sent through my heart a lurking thought, almost
+like a hope, that I must somehow have certain qualities for which the
+world at large had not yet credited me, which could make me of
+interest to a young, bright-natured creature, fresh to life and all its
+enjoyments; and from the self-esteem of this notion I really believe I
+drew more encouragement than from any amount of more avowed approbation.
+
+“I feel I am not wearying you, my darling Lucy, by dwelling even with
+prolixity on what beguiled the long hours of absence, the weary, weary
+days at sea.
+
+“When we landed, for a time at least, I only met him now and then;
+he had his duties, and I had mine. I had to look out for a house. My
+predecessor's family are still occupying the official residence, and
+have begged of me leave to remain there a little longer. I had my visits
+of duty or compliment to make, and a whole round of little courtesies to
+perform, for which I well know I have all your sympathy. Every one was,
+however, kind and polite; some were even friendly. Indeed, my very want
+of manner, my awkward bashfulness and deficient tact, have, I can
+see, not injured me in the esteem of those whose worldly breeding and
+knowledge have taught them to be compassionate as well as courteous.
+
+“Amongst the many persons to whom I was presented I made two
+acquaintances of more than common interest to me,--I will not go
+farther, and say of any great degree of gratification. In dining with
+the Governor, yesterday week, he said, 'You will meet a relation to-day,
+Dr. Lendrick. His ship has just put in to coal, and he and his wife dine
+with us.' Though quite persuaded the Governor was laboring under some
+mistake, I waited with anxiety as the different arrivals were announced,
+and at last came Colonel and Mrs. Sewell,--the Colonel being Lady
+Lendrick's son by her first marriage,--what relation to myself all my
+skill in genealogy is unable to pronounce.
+
+“We met, however, shook hands very cordially, and I had the honor to
+conduct Mrs. Sewell to table. I am unfortunately terribly prone to first
+impressions, and all those that I entertain regarding the Colonel
+are adverse. He is a tall, handsome man, easy in manner, and with the
+readiness in speech and address that shows familiarity with life. He
+however will never suffer your eyes to meet his, never exchange a
+frank look with you, and seems, from some cause or other, to be always
+laboring under an impatient anxiety to be somewhere else than where he
+stands at the moment.
+
+“He asked about my father, and never waited for my reply; and he
+laughingly said, with a bad taste that shocked me, 'My mother and he
+never could hit it off together.'
+
+“Mrs. Sewell interested me more than her husband. She is still very
+handsome; she must at one time have been perfectly beautiful. She is
+very gentle, low-voiced, and quiet, talking with a simplicity that even
+I can detect only covers a deep knowledge of life and the world. The
+dread of her husband seems, however, to pervade all she says or does.
+She changes color when he looks at her, and if he addresses her, she
+sometimes seems about to faint. His slightest word is accepted as a
+command; and yet with all this terror--terror it was--I caught a
+look that once passed between them that actually overwhelmed me
+with amazement. It was the very look that two accomplices might have
+interchanged in a moment when they could not communicate more freely.
+Don't think that there is any exaggeration in this, Lucy, or that I
+am assuming to possess a finer insight into human motives than my
+neighbors; but my old craft as a doctor supplies me with a technical
+skill that no acquaintance with the mere surface-life of the world could
+have given; for the _Medico_ reads mankind by a stronger and steadier
+light than ever shone out of conventionalities or social usages.
+
+“'We are on our way to England, to Ireland, perhaps,' he said to me, in
+a careless way; but she, not aware of his speech, told me they had been
+invited to the Priory,--a piece of information which I own startled
+me. First of all, they are not by any means like people who would be
+agreeable to my father, nor, so far as I can guess, are they persons who
+would easily sacrifice their own modes of life and habits to the wishes
+of a recluse. Least of all, dearest Lucy, do I desire this lady to be
+your companion. She has, I see, many attractive qualities; she may have
+others as good and excellent; but if I do not greatly err, her
+whole nature and being are in subjection to a very stern, cold, and
+unscrupulous man, and she is far from being all that she should be with
+such gifts as she possesses, and farther again from what she might have
+been with a happier destiny in marriage.
+
+“If it were not that you are so certain to meet, and not improbably see
+much of these people, I should not have filled so much of my letter with
+them; but I confess to you, since I saw them they have never been out
+of my thoughts. Our relationship--if that be the name for it--led us
+rapidly into considerable intimacy; he brought his children--two lovely
+girls, and a little cherub of a boy of three years old--to see me
+yesterday, and Mrs. Sewell comes to take me to drive every day after
+luncheon. She expresses the most ardent desire to meet you, and says she
+knows you will love each other. She carried off your picture t' other
+day, and I was in real terror till I got it back again. She seemed in
+ecstasy on being told you were living with your grandfather; but I saw a
+look she shot across to her husband as I told it, and I saw his reply by
+another glance that revealed to me how my tidings had caused surprise,
+and something more than surprise.
+
+“You must not set me down as fanciful or captious, dear Lucy; but the
+simple truth is, I have never had a quiet moment since I knew these
+people. They inspire me with the same sort of anxiety I have often felt
+when, in the course of my profession, some symptom has supervened in
+a case not very grave or startling in itself, but still such as I have
+always found heralding in very serious combinations. It is therefore the
+doctor as much as the father that takes alarm here.
+
+“It is just possible--mind, I say possible--that I am a little jealous
+of these Sewells, for they have already seduced from me my young friend
+Lionel, who was so kind to me on the voyage. I scarcely see him now, he
+is always with them; and yesterday I heard--it may not be true--that
+he is already weary of Cape Town, and means to return home by the next
+ship,--that is, along with the Sewells, who are to sail on Friday.
+
+“I am certain that Sewell is neither a good nor a safe companion for a
+young fellow so bashful and unsuspecting as Lionel Trafford.
+
+“There are men who read the world the way certain dishonest critics
+quote a book or an article, by extracting all that is objectionable,
+and, omitting context and connection, place passage after passage in
+quick sequence. By such a process as this, human life is a pandemonium.
+I half suspect Sewell to be one of this scornful school; and if so, a
+most dangerous intimate. The heartfelt racy enjoyment of his manner, as
+he records some trait of rascality or fraud, is not more marked than the
+contemptuous sneer with which he receives a story that bears testimony
+to generosity or trustfulness, throwing over his air in each that tone
+of knowledge of life and the world that seems to say, 'These are
+the things we all of us know well, though only a few have either the
+manliness or the honesty to declare them openly.'
+
+“I may have tired you with this long tirade, my dear Lucy, but I am
+pouring out to you my thoughts as they come,--come, too, out of the
+fulness of much reflection. Remember, too, my sweet child, that I have
+often told you, 'It is just some half-dozen people with whom we are
+intimate who make or mar our fate in life.' Big as the world is, we play
+a very small game in one corner of the board, and it behoves us to look
+well to those with whom we are to play it.
+
+“If I am jealous of the Sewells for having robbed me of my young friend,
+I am envious of himself also, for he is going back to England,--going
+back to the loved faces and scenes he has left,--going back to Home.
+There 's the word, Lucy, that gathers all that we come to live for, when
+life really is a blessing.
+
+“It would seem too early to pronounce, but I think I can already see
+this is not a place to which I would like to bring you; but I will not
+prejudge it. It may be that time will reconcile me to some things I
+now dislike; it may be, too, that the presence of my own around me will
+dispose me to take a cheerier view of much that now depresses me. I have
+a great deal to do; I am employed during the whole day, and never really
+free till evening, when society claims me. This latter is my only severe
+burden. You can imagine me daily dining out, and fancy the martyrdom it
+costs me.
+
+“I am most anxious to hear of you, and how you like your new life,--I
+mean how you bear it. Liking is not the word for that which entails
+separation. I feel assured that you will love my father. You will be
+generous towards those traits which the host of mere acquaintanceship
+took pleasure in exaggerating, and you will be fair enough not to
+misjudge his great qualities because of certain faults of temper. He has
+great gifts, Lucy; and as you will see, the two pendulums of his nature,
+heart and head, swing together, and he is as noble in sentiment as he is
+grand in action.
+
+“It almost consoles me for separation when I think that I have
+transferred to him the blessings of that presence that made my own
+sunshine. Mind that you send me a diary of your life. I want your whole
+day; I want to see how existence is filled, so that whenever my
+mind flies back to you I may say, 'She is in her garden,--she is
+working,--she is at her music,--she is reading to him.'
+
+“It was a mistake to send me here, Lucy. There are men in scores who
+would rejoice in the opportunities of such a place, and see in it
+the road to rapid fortune. I only look at one feature of it,--the
+banishment. Not that by nature I am discontented,--I hope and believe
+this is not so,--but I feel that there are many things in life far worse
+than poverty. I have not the same dread of narrow means most men have.
+I do not feel depressed in spirit when I lie beneath a very humble roof,
+and sit down to a coarse meal; nor has splendor the power to exhilarate
+or elevate me. I am essentially humble, and I need nothing that is not
+generally within the reach of the humble; and I vow to you in all truth,
+I 'd rather be your grandfather's gardener than be the governor of this
+great colony. There 's an ignoble confession, but keep it for yourself.
+
+“I have written a long letter to Tom by this post, and addressed it to
+Mr. Dempster, who will forward it if he should have left before this. It
+distresses me greatly when I think that I have not been able to give him
+any definite career in life before we parted. Mere aptitude has no value
+with the world. You may be willing and ready to do fifty things, but
+some fourth-rate fellow who _knows_ how to do one will beat you. The
+marketable quality in life is skill; the thing least in request is
+genius. Tom has this harsh lesson yet to learn, but learn it he must,
+for the world is a schoolmaster that will stand no skulking, and however
+little to our taste be its tasks, we must come up when called on, and go
+on with our lesson as well as we may.
+
+“In many respects Sir Brook Fossbrooke was an unfortunate companion
+for him to have chanced upon. A man of considerable resources, who has
+employed them all unprofitably, is a bad pilot. The very waywardness of
+such a nature was exactly the quality to be avoided in Tom's case; but
+what was to be done? Poverty can no more select its company than its
+climate; and it would have been worse than ungracious to have rejected a
+friendship so generously and freely offered.
+
+“I am curious--I am more than curious, I am anxious--to know if Tom
+should ever have met my father. They are so intensely alike in many
+things that I fear me their meeting could not lead to-good. I know well
+that Tom resents, and would like to show that he resents, what he
+deems the harsh treatment evinced towards me, and I dread anything
+like interchange of words between them. My whole hope is that you would
+prevent such a mischance, or, if it did occur, would take measures to
+obviate its dangers.
+
+“Tell me particularly about this when you write. Tell me also, have
+you met Lady Lendrick, and if so, on what terms? I have ever found her
+obliging and good-natured, and with many qualities which the world has
+not given her credit for. Give her my most respectful regards when you
+see her.
+
+“It is daybreak; the hot sun of Africa is already glancing into the
+room, and I must conclude. I cannot bear to think of the miles these
+lines must travel ere they meet you, but they will be with you at last,
+and they are in this more fortunate than your loving father,
+
+“T. Lendrick.”
+
+Lucy sat long pondering over this letter. She read it too, again and
+again, and by a light which was certainly not vouchsafed to him who
+wrote it. To _her_ there was no mystery in Trafford's conduct. It
+was plain enough he had gone out, expecting to find her as his
+fellow-passenger. His despair--his wretchedness--his devotion to
+her father, the last resource of that disappointment he could not
+subdue--were all intelligible enough. Less easy, however, to read the
+sudden attachment he had formed for the Sewells. What did this mean? Had
+it any meaning; and if so, was it one that concerned her to know?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. OFFICIAL MYSTERIES
+
+“I think I had better see him myself,” said Fossbrooke, after patiently
+listening to Tom Lendrick's account of his meeting with his grandfather.
+“It is possible I may be able to smooth down matters a little, and
+dispose the old gentleman, besides, to accord us some aid in our
+Sardinian project, for I have resolved upon that, Tom.”
+
+“Indeed, sir; the gold-mine?”
+
+“No, the lead,--the lead and silver. In the rough calculation I made
+last night on this slip of paper, I see my way to something like seven
+thousand a year to begin with; untold wealth will follow. There are no
+less than eleven products available,--the black lead of pencils and the
+white used by painters being the chief; while in my new salt, which I
+am disposed to call the 'pyrochloride of plumbium,' we have a sedative
+that will allay the pangs of hydrophobia.”
+
+“I wish it would quiet the Chief Baron,” muttered Tom; and Sir Brook,
+not hearing him correctly, continued,--“I think so,--I think the Chief
+Baron eminently calculated to take a proper estimate of my discovery. A
+man of fine intellect is ever ready to accept truth, albeit it come in a
+shape and through a channel in which he has himself not pursued it. Will
+you write a line to your sister and ask if it would be his Lordship's
+convenience to receive me, and at what time?”
+
+“Of course, sir, whatever you wish,” said Tom, in some confusion; “but
+might I ask if it be your intention to ask my grandfather to aid me with
+his purse?”
+
+“Naturally. I mean that he should, by advancing, let us say, eight
+hundred pounds, put you in a position to achieve a speedy fortune. He
+shall see, too, that our first care has been your sister's interests.
+Six-sixteenths of the profits for fifty years are to be hers; three each
+we reserve for ourselves; the remaining four will form a reserve fund
+for casualties, a capital for future development, and a sum at interest
+to pay superannuations, with some other objects that you will find
+roughly jotted down here, for which, however, they will amply suffice. I
+take it his Lordship knows something of metallurgy, Tom?” “I believe
+he knows a little of everything.” “Chemistry I feel sure he must have
+studied.” “I won't answer for the study; but you 'll find that when
+you come to talk with him, you 'll scarcely wander very far out of his
+geography. But I was going to say, sir, that I 'm not quite easy at the
+thought of asking him for money.”
+
+“It's not money--at least, it's no gift--we require of him. We are in
+possession of a scheme certain to secure a fortune. We know where a
+treasure lies hid, and we want no more than the cost of the journey to
+go and fetch it. He shall be more than repaid. The very dispositions
+we make in your sister's favor will show him in what spirit we mean to
+deal. It is possible--I am willing to own it--it is possible I might
+approach a man of inferior intelligence with distrust and fear, but in
+coming before Baron Lendrick I have no misgivings. All my experience of
+life has shown me that the able men are the generous men. In the ample
+stretch of their minds they estimate mankind by larger averages, and
+thus they come to see that there is plenty of good in human nature.”
+
+“I believe the old Judge is clever enough, and some speak very well
+of his character; but his temper--his temper is something that would
+swallow up all the fine qualities that ever were accorded to one man;
+and even if you were about to go on a mission I liked better, I 'd
+say, Don't ask to see him, don't expose yourself to the risk of some
+outrageous affront,--something you could n't bear and would n't resent.”
+
+“I have never yet found myself in the predicament you speak of,”
+ said Sir Brook, drawing himself up haughtily, “nor do I know of any
+contingency in life from which I could retreat on account of its perils.
+It may be, indeed it is, more than likely, from what you tell me, that
+I shall make no appeal to your grandfather's generosity; but I shall see
+him to tender your regrets for any pain you may have caused him, and to
+tell also so much of our future intentions as it is becoming the head
+of your house should hear. I also desire to see your sister, and say
+good-bye.”
+
+“Ask her to let me do so too. I can't go away without seeing her again.”
+ Tom took a turn or two up and down the room as though he had not made up
+his mind whether to say something or not. He looked out of the window,
+possibly in search of something to distract his thoughts, and then
+turning suddenly about, he said: “I was thinking, sir, that if it was
+your opinion--mind, I don't want to insinuate that it ought to be, or
+even that it is my own--but that if you came to the conclusion that
+my sister was not happy with my grandfather--that her life was one of
+depression and suffering--what would you say to her coming along with
+us?”
+
+“To Sardinia! Coming to Sardinia, do you mean, Tom?” said the old man,
+in astonishment.
+
+“Yes, sir, that is what I meant.”
+
+“Have I not told you the sort of life that lies before us in the
+island,--the hardships, the dangers, the bitter privations we shall
+have to endure? Is it to these we can invite a young girl, trained and
+accustomed to every elegance and every comfort?”
+
+“She 'd not shrink from her share,--that much I 'll warrant you; and the
+worst roughing of that rugged life would be easier to bear than this old
+man's humor.”
+
+“No, no; it must not be thought of,” said Fossbrooke, sternly. “What
+meaning has our enterprise if it be not to secure her future fortune?
+She cannot--she shall not--pay any part of the price. Let me think over
+this, Tom. It may be that we ought not to leave her; it may be that we
+should hit upon something nearer home. I will go up to the Castle and
+see the Viceroy.”
+
+He made a light grimace as he said this. Such a visit was by no means to
+his taste. If there was anything totally repugnant to his nature, it was
+to approach men whom he had known as friends or intimates with anything
+like the request for a favor. It seemed to him to invert all the
+relations which ought to subsist between men in society. The moment
+you had stooped to such a step, in his estimation you had forfeited all
+right to that condition of equality which renders intercourse agreeable.
+
+“I must have something for this young fellow,--something that may enable
+him to offer his sister a home if she should need it. I will accept
+nothing for myself,--on that I am determined. It is a sorry part, that
+of suppliant, but so long as it is for another it is endurable. Not that
+I like it, though,--not that it sits easy on me,--and I am too old to
+acquire a new manner.” Thus muttering to himself, he went along till he
+found himself at the chief entrance of the Castle.
+
+“You will have to wait on Mr. Balfour, sir, his Excellency's private
+secretary, the second door from the corner,” said the porter, scarcely
+deigning a glance at one so evidently unversed in viceregal observances.
+Sir Brook nodded and withdrew. From a groom who was holding a
+neat-looking cob pony Fossbrooke learned that Mr. Balfour was about to
+take his morning's ride. “He'll not see you now,” said the man. “You 'll
+have to come back about four or half-past.”
+
+“I have only a question to ask,” said Sir Brook, half to himself as he
+ascended the stairs. As he gained the landing and rang, the door opened
+and Mr. Balfour appeared. “I regret to detain you, sir,” began Sir
+Brook, as he courteously raised his hat. “Mr. Balfour, I believe.”
+
+“You are right as to my name, but quite as wrong if you fancy that you
+will detain me,” said that plump and very self-satisfied gentleman, as
+he moved forward.
+
+“And yet, sir, such is my intention,” said Sir Brook, placing himself
+directly in front of him.
+
+“That is a matter very soon settled,” said Balfour, returning to the
+door and calling out, “Pollard, step down to the lower yard, and send a
+policeman here.”
+
+Sir Brook heard the order unmoved in manner, and even made way for the
+servant to pass down the stairs. No sooner, however, was the man out
+of hearing than he said, “It would be much better, sir, not to render
+either of us ridiculous. I am Sir Brook Fossbrooke, and I come here to
+learn at what time it would be his Excellency's pleasure to receive me.”
+
+The calm quiet dignity in which he spoke, even more than the words, had
+its effect on Balfour, who, with more awkwardness than he would like
+to have owned, asked Sir Brook to walk in and be seated. “I have had a
+message for you from his Excellency these three or four days back, and
+knew not where to find you.”
+
+“Did it never occur to you to try what assistance the police might
+afford, sir?” said he, with deep gravity.
+
+“One thinks of these generally as a last resource,” said Balfour,
+coolly, and possibly not sorry to show how imperturbable he could be
+under a sarcasm.
+
+“And now for the message, sir,” said Fossbrooke.
+
+“I'll be shot if I remember it. Wasn't it something about an election
+riot? You thrashed a priest, named Malcahy, eh?”
+
+“I opine not, sir,” said Sir Brook, with a faint smile.
+
+“No, no; you are the great man for acclimatization; you want to make the
+ornithorhynchus as common as the turkey. Am I right?”
+
+Sir Brook shook his head.
+
+“I never have my head clear out of office hours, that 's the fact,” said
+Balfour, impatiently. “If you had called on me between twelve and three,
+you 'd have found me like a directory.”
+
+“Put no strain upon your recollection, sir. When I see the Viceroy, it
+is probable he will repeat the message.”
+
+“You know him, then?”
+
+“I have known him eight-and-forty years.”
+
+“Oh, I have it,--I remember it all now. You used to be with Colonel
+Hanger and Hugh Seymour and O'Kelly and all the Carlton House lot.”
+
+Fossbrooke bowed a cold assent.
+
+“His Excellency told us the other evening that there was not a man in
+England who had so many stories of the Prince. Didn't Moore go to you
+about his Life of Sheridan?--yes, of course,--and you promised him some
+very valuable documents; and sent him five-and-twenty protested bills of
+poor Brinsley's, labelled 'Indubitable Records.'”
+
+“This does not lead us to the message, sir,” said Foss-brooke, stiffly.
+
+“Yes, but it does though,--I'm coming to it. I have a system of
+artificial memory, and I have just arrived at you now through Carlton
+House, milk-punch, and that story about Lord Grey and yourself riding
+postilions to Ascot, and you on the wheelers tipping up Grey with your
+whip till he grew frantic. Was n't that a fact?”
+
+“I wait for the message, sir; or rather I grow impatient at not hearing
+it.”
+
+“I remember it perfectly. It's a place he wants to offer you; it's
+a something under the Courts of Law. You are to do next to
+nothing,--nothing at all, I believe, if you prefer it, as the last
+fellow did. He lived in Dresden for the education of his children, and
+he died there, and we did n't know when he died,--at least they suspect
+he signed some dozen life certificates that his doctor used to forward
+at quarter-day. Mind, I don't give you the story as mine; but the
+impression is that he held the office for eight years after his death.”
+
+“Perhaps, sir, you would now favor me with the name and nature of the
+appointment.”
+
+“He was called the Deputy-Assistant Sub-something of somewhere in the
+Exchequer; and he had to fill, or to register, or to put a seal, or, if
+not a seal, a stamp on some papers; but the marrow of the matter is, he
+had eight hundred a year for it; and when the Act passed requiring two
+seals, he asked for an increase of salary and an assistant clerk, and
+they gave him two hundred more, but they refused the clerk. They do such
+shabby things in those short sittings over the Estimates!”
+
+“And am I to understand that his Excellency makes me an offer of this
+appointment?”
+
+“Well, not exactly; there's a hitch in it,--I may say there are
+two hitches: first of all, we 're not sure it's in our gift; and,
+secondly--”
+
+“Perhaps I may spare you the secondly,--the firstly is more than enough
+for me.”
+
+“Yes, but I'd like to explain. Here's how it is: the Chief Baron claimed
+the patronage about twenty years ago, and we made, or the people
+who were in power made, some sort of a compromise about an ultimate
+nomination, and he was to have the first. Now this man only died
+t' other day, having held the office, as I said, upwards of twenty
+years,--a most unconscionable thing,--just one of those selfish acts
+small official fellows are always doing; and so _I_ thought, as I saw
+your name down for something on his Excellency's list, that I 'd mention
+_you_ for the post as a sort of sop to Baron Lendrick, saying, 'Look
+at our man; we are not going to saddle the country with one of your
+long-annuity fellows,--_he_ 's eighty if he's a day.' I say, I 'd press
+this point, because the old Judge says he is no longer bound by
+the terms of the compromise, for that the office was abolished and
+reconstructed by the 58th of Victoria, and that he now insists on the
+undivided patronage.”
+
+“I presume that the astute reasons which induced you to think of _me_
+have not been communicated to the Viceroy.”
+
+“I should think not. I mention them to you frankly, because his
+Excellency said you were one of those men who must be dealt with openly.
+'Play on the square with Foss-brooke,' said he; 'and whether he win or
+lose, you 'll see no change in him. Try to overreach him, and you 'll
+catch a tiger.'”
+
+“I am very grateful for his kind estimate of me. It is, however, no more
+than I looked for at his hands.” This he said with a marked feeling,
+and then added, in a lighter tone, “I have also a debt of gratitude
+to yourself, of which I know not how to acquit myself better than by
+accepting this appointment, and taking the earliest opportunity to die
+afterwards.”
+
+“No, don't do that; I don't mean that. You can do like that fellow they
+made Pope because he looked on the verge of the grave, and who pitched
+his crutch into the air when he had put on the tiara.”
+
+“I understand; so that it is only in Baron Lendrick's eyes I am to look
+short-lived.”
+
+“Just so; call on him,--have a meeting with him; say that his Excellency
+desires to act with every delicacy towards him,--that should it be
+discovered hereafter the right of nomination lies with the Court and not
+with us, we 'll give him an equivalent somewhere else, till--till--”
+
+“Till I shall have vacated the post,” chimed in Sir Brook, blandly; “a
+matter, of course, of very brief space.”
+
+“You see the whole thing,--you see it in all its bearings; and now if
+you only could know something about the man you have to deal with, there
+would be nothing more to tell you.”
+
+“I have heard about him passingly.”
+
+“Oh, yes, his eccentricities are well known. The world is full of
+stories of him, but he is one of those men who play wolf on the
+species,--he must be worrying somebody to keep him from worrying
+himself; he smashed the last two Governments here, and he 'd have upset
+_us_ too if _I_ had n't been here. He hates _me_ cordially; and if you
+don't want to rouse his anger, don't let your lips murmur the name,
+Cholmondely Balfour.”
+
+“You may rely upon me, sir,” said Sir Brook, bowing. “I have scarcely
+ever met a gentleman whose name I am not more likely to recall than your
+own.”
+
+“Sharp, that; did you mean it?” said Balfour, with his glass to his eye.
+
+“I am never ambiguous, sir, though it occasionally happens to me to say
+somewhat less than I feel. I wish you a good day.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. IN COURT.
+
+When the day arrived that the Chief Baron was to resume his place on
+the Bench, no small share of excitement was seen to prevail within the
+precincts of the Four Courts. Many opined that his recovery was far
+from perfect, and that it was not his intention ever to return to the
+justice-seat. Some maintained that the illness had been far less severe
+than was pretended, and that he had employed the attack as a means of
+pressure on the Government, to accord to his age and long services
+the coveted reward. Less argumentative partisans there were who were
+satisfied to wager that he would or would not reappear on the Bench, and
+bets were even laid that he would come for one last time, as though to
+show the world in what full vigor of mind and intellect was the man the
+Government desired to consign to inactivity and neglect.
+
+It is needless to say that he was no favorite with the Bar. There was
+scarcely a man, from the highest to the lowest, whom he had not on some
+occasion or another snubbed, ridiculed, or reprimanded. Whose law had he
+not controverted? Whose acuteness had he not exposed, whose rhetoric
+not made jest of? The mere presence of ability before him seemed to
+stimulate his combative spirit, and incite him to a passage at arms with
+one able to defend himself. No first-rate man could escape the shafts of
+his barbed and pointed wit; it was only dulness, hopeless dulness,
+that left his court with praise of his urbanity and an eulogy over his
+courteous demeanor.
+
+Now, hopeless dulness is not the characteristic of the Irish Bar, and
+with the majority the Chief Baron was the reverse of popular.
+
+No small tribute was it therefore to his intellectual superiority, to
+that mental power that all acknowledged while they dreaded, that his
+appearance was greeted with a murmur of approbation, which swelled
+louder and louder as he moved across the hall, till it burst out at
+last into a hoarse, full cheer of welcome. Mounting the steps with
+difficulty, the pale old man, seared with age and wrinkled with care,
+turned round towards the vast crowd, and with an eye of flashing
+brightness, and a heightened color, pressed his hand upon his heart,
+and bowed. A very slight motion it was,--less, far less, perhaps, than
+a sovereign might have accorded; but in its dignity and grace it was a
+perfect recognition of all the honor he felt had been done him.
+
+How broken! how aged! how fearfully changed! were the whispered remarks
+that were uttered around as he took his seat on the Bench, and more
+significant even than words were the looks interchanged when he
+attempted to speak, and instead of that clear metallic ring which once
+had been audible even outside the court, a faint murmuring sound was
+only heard.
+
+A few commonplace motions were made and discharged. A somewhat wearisome
+argument followed on a motion for a new trial, and the benches of the
+Bar gradually grew thinner and thinner, as the interest of the scene
+wore off, and as each in turn had scanned, and, after his own fashion,
+interpreted, the old Judge's powers of mind and body; when suddenly,
+and as it were without ostensible cause, the court began to fill,--bench
+after bench was occupied, till at last even all the standing-space was
+crowded; and when the massive curtain moved aside, vast numbers were
+seen without, eagerly trying to enter. At first the Chief Baron appeared
+not to notice the change, but his sharp eye no sooner detected it than
+he followed with his glance the directed gaze of the crowd, and saw
+it fixed on the gallery, opposite the jury-box, now occupied by a
+well-dressed company, in the midst of whom, conspicuous above all, sat
+Lady Lendrick. So well known were the relations that subsisted between
+himself and his wife, such publicity had been given to their hates and
+quarrels, that her presence here was regarded as a measure of shameless
+indelicacy. In the very defiant look, too, that she bestowed on the body
+of the court she seemed to accept the imputation, and to dare it.
+
+Leisurely and calmly did she scan the old man's features through her
+double eyeglass, while from time to time, with a simpering smile, she
+would whisper some words to the lady at her side,--words it was not
+needful to overhear, they were so palpably words of critical comment
+upon him she gazed at.
+
+So engrossed was attention by the indecency of this intrusion, which had
+not even the shallow pretext of an interesting cause to qualify it, that
+it was only after a considerable time it was perceived that the lady who
+sat next Lady Lendrick was exceedingly beautiful. If no longer in her
+first youth, there were traits of loveliness in her perfectly formed
+features which even years respect; and in the depth of her orbits and
+the sculptural elegance of her nostrils and her mouth, there was all
+that beauty we love to call Greek, but in which no classic model ever
+could compete with the daughters of England.
+
+Her complexion was of exceeding delicacy, as was the half-warm tint of
+her light-brown hair. But it was when she smiled that the captivation
+of her beauty became perfect; and it seemed as though each and all there
+appropriated that radiant favor to himself, and felt his heart bound
+with a sort of ecstasy. It had been rumored in the morning through the
+hall that the Chief Baron, at the rising of the Court, would deliver a
+short reply to the address of the Bar; and now, as the last motion was
+being disposed of, the appearance of eager expectation and curiosity
+became conspicuous on every side.
+
+That the unlooked-for presence of his wife had irritated and embarrassed
+the old man, was plain to the least observant. The stern expression of
+his features; the steadfast way in which he gazed into the body of
+the court, to avoid even a chance glance at the gallery; the fretful
+impatience with which he moved his hands restlessly amongst his
+papers,--all showed discomposure and uneasiness. Still, it was well
+known that the moment he was called on for a mental effort intellect
+ever assumed the mastery over temper, and all felt that when he should
+arise not a trace of embarrassment would remain to mar the calm dignity
+of his manner.
+
+It was amidst a hushed silence that he stood up, and said: “Mr. Chief
+Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar: I had intended to-day,--I had even
+brought down with me some notes of a reply which I purposed to make to
+the more than flattering address which you so graciously offered to me.
+I find, however, that I have overrated the strength that remains to
+me. I find I have measured my power to thank you by the depth of my
+gratitude, and not by the vigor of my frame. I am too weak to say all
+that I feel, and too deeply your debtor to ask you to accept less than I
+owe you. Had the testimony of esteem you presented to me only alluded to
+those gifts of mind and intellect with which a gracious Providence was
+pleased to endow me,--had you limited yourself to the recognition of the
+lawyer and the judge,--I might possibly have found strength to assure
+you that I accepted your praise with the consciousness that it was not
+all unmerited. The language of your address, however, went beyond this;
+your words were those of regard, even of affection. I am unused to such
+as these, gentlemen,--they unsettle--they unman me. Physicians tell us
+that the nerves of the student acquire a morbid and diseased acuteness
+for want of those habits of action and physical exertion which more
+vulgar organizations practise. So do I feel that the mental faculties
+gain an abnormal intensity in proportion as the affections are
+neglected, and the soil of the heart left untilled.
+
+“Mine have been worse than ignored,” said he, with an elevated tone, and
+in a voice that rang through the court,--“they have been outraged; and
+when the time comes that biography will have to deal with my character
+and my fortunes, if there be but justice in the award, the summing-up
+will speak of me as one ever linked with a destiny that was beneath
+him. He was a lawyer,--he ought to have been a legislator. He sat on
+the Bench, while his place was the Cabinet; and when at the end of
+a laborious life his brethren rallied round him with homage and with
+tender regard, they found him like a long beleaguered city starved
+into submission, carrying a bold port towards the enemy, but torn by
+dissension within, and betrayed by the very garrison that should have
+died in its defence.”
+
+The savage fierceness of these words turned every eye in the court to
+the gallery, where Lady Lendrick sat, and where, with a pleasant smile
+on her face, she not only listened with seeming pleasure, but beat time
+with her fan to the rhythm of the well-rounded periods.
+
+A quivering of the lip, and a strange flattening of the cheek of one
+side, succeeded to the effort with which he delivered these words, and
+when he attempted to speak again his voice failed him; and after a few
+attempts he placed his hand on his brow, and with a look of intense and
+most painful significancy, bowed around him to both sides of the court
+and retired.
+
+“That woman, that atrocious woman, has killed him,” muttered poor Haire,
+as he hastened to the Judge's robing-room.
+
+“I am sorry, my dear, you should not have heard him in a better vein,
+for he is really eloquent at times,” said Lady Lendrick to her beautiful
+companion, as they moved through the crowd to their carriage.
+
+“I trust his present excitement will not have bad consequences,” said
+the other, softly. “Don't you think we ought to wait and ask how he is?”
+
+“If you like. I have only one objection, and that is, that we may be
+misconstrued. There are people here malicious enough to impute the worst
+of motives to our anxiety. Oh, here is Mr. Pemberton! Mr. Pemberton,
+will you do me the great favor to inquire how the Chief Baron is? Would
+you do more, and say that I am most eager to know if I could be of any
+use to him?”
+
+If Mr. Pemberton had no fancy for his mission, he could not very well
+decline it. While he was absent, the ladies took a turn through the
+hall, inspecting the two or three statues of distinguished lawyers, and
+scanning the living faces, whose bewigged expression seemed to blend the
+over-wise and the ridiculous in the strangest imaginable manner.
+
+A sudden movement in the crowd betokened some event; and now, through a
+lane formed in the dense mass, the Chief Baron was seen approaching.
+He had divested himself of his robes, and looked the younger for the
+change. Indeed, there was an almost lightness in his step, as he
+came forward, and with a bland smile said: “I am most sensible of the
+courtesy that led you here. I only wish my strength had been more
+equal to the occasion.” And he took Lady Lendrick's hand with a mingled
+deference and regard.
+
+“Sir William, this is my daughter-in-law. She only arrived yesterday,
+but was determined not to lose the opportunity of hearing you.”
+
+[Illustration: 178]
+
+“To have _heard_ me to-day was disappointment,” said the old man, as
+he raised the young lady's hand to his lips; “to see her is none. I am
+charmed to meet one so closely tied to me,--of such exquisite beauty.
+Ah, Madam! it's a dear-bought privilege, this candid appreciation of
+loveliness we old men indulge in. May I offer you my arm?”
+
+And now through the dense crowd they passed along,--all surprised and
+amazed at the courteous attentions of the old Judge, whom but a few
+moments before they had seen almost convulsed with passion.
+
+“She almost had won the game, Haire,” said the Chief Baron, as, having
+handed the ladies to their carriage, he went in search of his own. “But
+I have mated her. My sarcasm has never given me one victory with
+that woman,” said he, sternly. “I have never conquered her except by
+courtesy.”
+
+“Why did she come down to court at all?” blurted out Haire; “it was
+positively indecent.”
+
+“The Spanish women go to bull-fights, but I never heard that they
+stepped down into, the arena. She has great courage,--very great
+courage.”
+
+“Who was the handsome woman with her?”
+
+“Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Sewell. Now, that is what I call beauty,
+Haire. There is the element which is denied to us men,--to subdue
+without effort, to conquer without conflict.”
+
+“Your granddaughter is handsomer, to my thinking.”
+
+“They are like each other,--strangely like. They have the same dimpling
+of the cheek before they smile, and her laugh has the same ring as
+Lucy's.”
+
+Haire muttered something, not very intelligibly, indeed, but certainly
+not sounding like assent.
+
+“Lady Lendrick had asked me to take these Sewells in at the Priory, and
+I refused her. Perhaps I 'd have been less peremptory had I seen this
+beauty. Yes, sir! There is a form of loveliness--this woman has it--as
+distinctly an influence as intellectual superiority, or great rank,
+or great riches. To deny its power you must live out of the world, and
+reject all the ordinances of society.”
+
+“Coquettes, I suppose, have their followers; but I don't think you or I
+need be of the number.”
+
+“You speak with your accustomed acuteness, Haire; but coquetry is the
+exercise of many gifts, beauty is the display of one. I can parry off
+the one; I cannot help feeling the burning rays of the other. Come,
+come, don't sulk; I am not going to undervalue your favorite Lucy. They
+have promised to dine with me on Sunday; you must meet them.”
+
+“Dine with you!--dine with you, after what you said today in open
+court!”
+
+“That I could invite them, and they accept my invitation, is the best
+reply to those who would, in their malevolence, misinterpret whatever
+may have fallen from me. The wound of a sharp arrow is never very
+painful till some inexpert bungler endeavors to withdraw the weapon. It
+is then that agony becomes excruciating, and peril imminent.”
+
+“I suppose I am the bungler, then?”
+
+“Heaven forbid I should say so! but as I have often warned you, Haire,
+your turn for sarcasm is too strong for even your good sense. When you
+have shotted your gun with a good joke, you will make a bull's eye of
+your best friend.”
+
+“By George, then, I don't know myself, that's all; and I could as easily
+imagine myself a rich man as a witty one.”
+
+“You are rich in gifts more precious than money; and you have the
+quintessence of all wit in that property that renders you suggestive;
+it is like what chemists call latent heat. But to return to Mrs. Sewell:
+she met my son at the Cape, and reports favorably of his health and
+prospects.”
+
+“Poor fellow! what a banishment he must feel it!”
+
+“I wonder, sir, how many of us go through life without sacrifices! She
+says that he goes much into the world, and is already very popular in
+the society of the place,--a great and happy change to a man who
+had suffered his indolence and self-indulgence to master him. Had he
+remained at home, I might have been able to provide for him. George
+Ogle's place is vacant, and I am determined to exercise my right of
+appointment.”
+
+“First Registrar, was he not?”
+
+“Yes; a snug berth for incapacity,--one thousand a year. Ogle made
+more of it by means we shall not inquire into, but which shall not be
+repeated.”
+
+“You ought to give it to your grandson,” said Haire, bluntly.
+
+“You ought to know better than to say so, sir,” said the Judge, with a
+stern severity. “It is to men like myself the public look for example
+and direction, and it would be to falsify all the teaching of my life if
+I were to misuse my patronage. Come up early on Saturday morning, and
+go over the lists with me. There are one hundred and twenty-three
+applicants, backed by peers, bishops, members of Parliament, and men in
+power.”
+
+“I don't envy you your patronage.”
+
+“Of course not, sir. The one hundred and twenty-two disappointed
+candidates would present more terror to a mind like yours than any
+consciousness of a duty fulfilled would compensate for; but I am
+fashioned of other stuff.”
+
+“Well, I only hope it may be a worthy fellow gets it.”
+
+“If you mean worthy in what regards a devotion to the public service, I
+may possibly be able to assure you on that head.”
+
+“No, no; I mean a good fellow,--a true-hearted, honest fellow, to whom
+the salary will be a means of comfort and happiness.”
+
+“Sir, you ask far too much. Men in my station investigate fitness and
+capacity; they cannot descend to inquire how far the domestic virtues
+influence those whom they advance to office.”
+
+“You may drop me here: I am near home,” said Haire, who began to feel a
+little weary of being lectured.
+
+“You will not dine with me?”
+
+“Not to-day. I have some business this evening. I have a case to look
+over.”
+
+“Come up on Saturday, then,--come to breakfast; bring me any newspapers
+that treat of the appointment, and let us see if we cannot oppose this
+spirit of dictation they are so prone to assume; for I am resolved I
+will never name a man to office who has the Press for his patron.”
+
+“It may not be his fault.”
+
+“It shall be his misfortune, then. Stop, Drab; Mr. Haire wishes to get
+down. To the Priory,” said he, as his friend went his way; and now,
+leaning back in his carriage, the old man continued to talk aloud, and,
+addressing an imaginary audience, declaim against the encroaching
+spirit of the newspapers, and inveigh against the perils to which their
+irresponsible counsels exposed the whole framework of society; and thus
+speaking, and passionately gesticulating, he reached his home.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A MORNING CALL.
+
+As Sir William waited breakfast for Haire on Saturday morning, a car
+drove up to the door, and the butler soon afterwards entered with a card
+and a letter. The card bore the name “Sir Brook Fossbrooke,” and the
+letter was sealed with the viceregal arms, and had the name “Wilmington”
+ on the corner. Sir William broke it open, and read,--
+
+“My dear Chief Baron,--This will come to your hand through Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, one of my oldest and choicest friends. He tells me
+he desires to know you, and I am not aware of any more natural or
+legitimate ambition. It would be presumption in me to direct your
+attention to qualities you will be more quick to discover and more able
+to appreciate than myself. I would only add that your estimate will,
+I feel assured, be not less favorable that it will be formed of one
+of whose friendship I am proud. It may be that his visit to you will
+include a matter of business; if so, give it your courteous attention:
+and believe me ever, my dear Chief Baron, your faithful friend,
+
+“Wilmington.”
+
+“Show the gentleman in,” said the Judge; and he advanced towards the
+door as Sir Brook entered. “I am proud to make your acquaintance, Sir
+Brook,” said he, presenting his hand.
+
+“I would not have presumed to call on you at such an hour, my Lord Chief
+Baron, save that my minutes are numbered. I must leave for England this
+evening; and I wished, if possible, to meet you before I started.”
+
+“You will, I hope, join me at breakfast?”
+
+“I breakfasted two hours ago,--if I dare to dignify by the name my meal
+of bread and milk. But, pray, let me not keep you from yours,--that is,
+if you will permit me to speak to you while so occupied.”
+
+“I am at your orders, sir,” said the old Judge, as he seated himself and
+requested his visitor to sit beside him.
+
+“His Excellency tells me, my Lord, that there is just now vacant a
+situation of which some doubt exists as to the patron,--a Registrarship,
+I think he called it, in your Court?”
+
+“There is no doubt whatever, sir. The patronage is mine.”
+
+“I merely quote the Viceroy, my Lord,--I assert nothing of myself.”
+
+“It may not impossibly save time, sir, when I repeat that his Excellency
+has misinformed you. The office is in my gift.”
+
+“May I finish the communication with which he charged me?”
+
+“Sir, there is no case before the court,” said the Judge. “I can
+hear you, as a matter of courtesy; but it cannot be your object to be
+listened to on such terms?”
+
+“I will accept even so little. If it should prove that the view taken by
+his Excellency is the correct one--pray, sir, let me proceed--”
+
+“I cannot; I have no temper for a baseless hypothesis. I will not,
+besides, abuse your time any more than my own forbearance; and I
+therefore say that if any portion of your interest in making my
+acquaintance concerns that question you have so promptly broached, the
+minutes employed in the discussion would be thrown away by us both.”
+
+“Mr. Haire,” said the servant, at this moment; and the Chief Baron's old
+friend entered, rather heated by his walk.
+
+“You are late by half an hour, Haire; let me present you to Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, whose acquaintance I am now honored in making. Sir Brook
+is under a delusive impression, Haire, which I told you a few days ago
+would demand some decisive step on my part; he thinks that the vacant
+registrarship is at the disposal of the Crown.”
+
+“I ask pardon,” said Fossbrooke. “As I understood his Excellency, they
+only claim the alternate appointment.”
+
+“And they shall not assert even that, sir.”
+
+“Sir William's case is strong,--it is irrefutable. I have gone over it
+myself,” broke in Haire.
+
+“There, sir! listen to that. You have now wherewithal to go back and
+tell the Viceroy that the opinion of the leading man of the Irish Bar
+has decided against his claim. Tell him, sir, that accident timed your
+visit here at the same moment with my distinguished friend's, and that
+you in this way obtained a spontaneous decision on the matter at issue.
+When you couple with that judgment the name of William Haire, you will
+have said enough.”
+
+“I bow to this great authority,” said Sir Brook, with deep courtesy,
+“and accepting your Lordship's statement to the fullest, I would only
+add, that as it was his Excellency's desire to have named me to this
+office, might I so far presume, on the loss of the good fortune that I
+had looked for, to approach you with a request, only premising that it
+is not on my own behalf?”
+
+“I own, sir, that I do not clearly appreciate the title to your claim.
+You are familiar with the turf, Sir Brook, and you know that it is only
+the second horse has a right to demand his entry.”
+
+“I have not been beaten, my Lord. You have scratched my name and
+prevented my running.”
+
+“Let us come back to fact, sir,” said the Chief Baron, not pleased with
+the retort. “How can you base any right to approach me with a request on
+the circumstance that his Excellency desired to give you what belonged
+to another?”
+
+“Yes, that puts it forcibly--unanswerably--to my thinking,” said Haire.
+
+“I may condole with disappointment, sir, but I am not bound to
+compensate defeat,” said the old Judge; and he arose and walked the room
+with that irritable look and manner which even the faintest opposition
+to him often evoked, and for which even the utterance of a flippant
+rebuke but partly compensated him.
+
+“I take it, my Lord Chief Baron,” said Fossbrooke, calmly, “that I
+have neither asked for condolence nor compensation. I told you, I hoped
+distinctly that what I was about to urge was not on my own behalf.”
+
+“Well, sir, and I think the plea is only the less sustainable. The
+Viceroy's letter might give a pretext for the one; there is nothing in
+our acquaintance would warrant the other.”
+
+“If you knew, sir, how determined I am not to take offence at words
+which certainly imperil patience, you would possibly spare me some
+of these asperities. I am in close relations of friendship with your
+grandson; he is at present living with me; I have pledged myself to his
+father to do my utmost in securing him some honorable livelihood, and
+it is in his behalf that I have presented myself before you to-day. Will
+you graciously accord me a hearing on this ground?”
+
+There was a quiet dignity of manner in which he said this, a total
+forgetfulness of self, and a manly simplicity of purpose so palpable,
+that the old Judge felt he was in presence of one whose character called
+for all his respect; at the same time he was not one to be suddenly
+carried away by a sentiment, and in a very measured voice he replied,
+“If I 'm flattered, sir, by the interest you take in a member of my
+family, I am still susceptible of a certain displeasure that it should
+be a stranger should stand before me to ask me for any favor to my own.”
+
+“I am aware, my Lord Chief Baron, that my position is a false one, but
+so is your own.”
+
+“Mine, sir! mine? What do you mean? Explain yourself.”
+
+“If your Lordship's interest had been exerted as it might have been,
+Dr. Lendrick's son would never have needed so humble a friend as he has
+found in me.”
+
+“And have you come here, sir, to lecture me on my duty to my family?
+Have you presented yourself under the formality of a viceregal letter
+of introduction to tell a perfect stranger to you how he should have
+demeaned himself to his own?”
+
+“Probably I might retort, and ask by what right you lecture me on my
+manners and behavior? But I am willing to be taught by so consummate a
+master of everything; and though I was once a courtier, I believe that
+I have much to learn on the score of breeding. And now, my Lord, let us
+leave this unpromising theme, and come to one which has more interest
+for each of us. If this registrarship, this place, whatever it be, would
+be one to suit your grandson, will the withdrawal of _my_ claim serve
+to induce your Lordship to support _his?_ In one word, my Lord, will you
+let him have the appointment?”
+
+“I distinctly refuse, sir,” said the Judge, waving his hand with an air
+of dignity. “Of the young gentleman for whom you intercede I know but
+little; but there are two disqualifications against him, more than
+enough, either of them, to outweigh your advocacy.”
+
+“May I learn them?” asked Sir Brook, meekly.
+
+“You shall, sir. He carries my name without its prestige; he inherits
+_my_ temper, but not my intellect.” The blood rushed to his face as he
+spoke, and his chest swelled, and his whole bearing bespoke the fierce
+pride that animated him; when suddenly, as it were, recollecting
+himself, he added: “I am not wont to give way thus, sir. It is only in
+a moment of forgetfulness that I could have obtruded a personal
+consideration into a question of another kind. My friend here will tell
+you if it has been the habit of my life to pension my family on the
+public.”
+
+“Having failed in one object of my coming, let me hope for better
+success in another. May I convey to your Lordship your grandson's regret
+for having offended you? It has caused him sincere sorrow and much
+self-reproach. May I return with the good tidings of your forgiveness?”
+
+“The habits of my order are opposed to rash judgments, and consequently
+to hasty reversions. I will consider the case, and let you hear my
+opinion upon it.”
+
+“I think that is about as much as you will do with him,” muttered Haire
+in Sir Brook's ear, and with a significant gesture towards the door.
+
+“Before taking my leave, my Lord, would it be too great a liberty if I
+beg to present my personal respects to Miss Lendrick?”
+
+“I will inform her of your wish, sir,” said the Judge, rising, and
+ringing the bell. After a pause of some minutes, in which a perfect
+silence was maintained by all, the servant returned to say, “Miss
+Lendrick would be happy to see Sir Brook.”
+
+“I hope, sir,” said the Chief Baron, as he accompanied him to the door,
+“I have no need to request that no portion of what has passed here
+to-day be repeated to my granddaughter.”
+
+A haughty bow of assent was all the reply.
+
+“I make my advances to her heart,” said the Judge, with a tone of more
+feeling in his voice, “through many difficulties. Let these not be
+increased to me,--let her not think me unmindful of my own.”
+
+“Give her no reason to think so, my Lord, and you may feel very
+indifferent to the chance words of a passing acquaintance.”
+
+“For the third time to-day, sir, have you dared to sit in judgment over
+my behavior to my family. You cannot plead want of experience of life,
+or want of converse with men, to excuse this audacity. I must regard
+your intrusion, therefore, as a settled project to insult me. I accept
+no apologies, sir,” said the old man, with a haughty wave of his hand,
+while his eyes glittered with passion. “I only ask, and I hope I ask as
+a right, that I may not be outraged under my own roof. Take your next
+opportunity to offend me when I may not be hampered by the character
+of your host. Come down into the open arena, and see how proud you will
+feel at the issue of the encounter.” He rang the bell violently as he
+spoke, and continued to ring it till the servant came.
+
+“Accompany this gentleman to the gate,” said he to the man.
+
+Not a change came over Sir Brook's face during the delivery of this
+speech; and as he bowed reverentially and withdrew, his manner was all
+that courtesy could desire.
+
+“I see he's not going to visit Lucy,” muttered Haire, as Sir Brook
+passed the window.
+
+“I should think not, sir. There are few men would like to linger where
+they have been so ingloriously defeated.” He walked the room with a
+proud defiant look for some minutes, and then, sinking faintly into a
+chair, said, in a weak, tremulous tone, “Haire, these trials are too
+much for me. It is a cruel aggravation of the ills of old age to have a
+heart and a brain alive to the finest sense of injury.”
+
+Haire muttered something like concurrence.
+
+“What is it you say, sir? Speak out,” cried the Judge.
+
+“I was saying,” muttered the other, “I wish they would not
+provoke--would not irritate you; that people ought to see the state your
+nerves are in, and should use a little discretion how they contradict
+and oppose you.” The bland smile of the Chief-Justice, and an assenting
+gesture of his hand, emboldened Haire to continue, and he went on: “I
+have always said, Keep away such as excite him; his condition is not one
+to be bettered by passionate outbreaks. Calm him, humor him.”
+
+“What a pearl above price is a friend endowed with discretion! Leave me,
+Haire, to think over your nice words. I would like to ponder them alone
+and to myself. I 'll send for you by and by.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. COMING-HOME THOUGHTS
+
+Had a mere stranger been a guest on that Sunday when the Chief
+Baron entertained at dinner Lady Lendrick, the Sewells, and his old
+schoolfellow Haire, he might have gone away under the impression that he
+had passed an evening in the midst of a happy and united family.
+
+Nothing could be more perfect than the blending of courtesy and
+familiarity. The old Chief himself was in his best of humors, which
+means that, with the high polish of a past age, its deference, and its
+homage, he combined all the readiness and epigrammatic smartness of a
+later period. Lady Lendrick was bland, courteous, and attentive. Colonel
+Sewell took the part assigned him by his host, alternate talker and
+listener; and Mrs. Sewell herself displayed, with true woman's wit, that
+she knew how to fall in with the Judge's humor, as though she had known
+him for years, and that, in each sally of his wit and each flash of
+his repartee he was but reviving memories of such displays in long-past
+years. As for Haire, no enchantment could be more complete; he found
+himself not only listened to but appealed to. The Chief asked him to
+correct him about some fact or other of recent history; he applied
+to him to relate some incident in a trial he had taken part in; and,
+greatest triumph of all, he was called on to decide some question about
+the dressing of Mrs. Sewell's hair, his award being accepted as the last
+judgment of connoisseurship.
+
+Lucy talked little, but seemed interested by all around her. It was
+a bit of high-life comedy, really amusing, and she had that mere
+suspicion--it was no more--of the honesty and loyalty of the talkers
+to give an added significance to all she saw and heard. This slight
+distrust, however, gave way, when Mrs. Sewell sat down beside her in the
+drawing-room, and talked to her of her father. Oh, how well she appeared
+to know him; how truly she read the guileless simplicity of his noble
+nature; how she distinguished--it was not all who did so--between his
+timid reserve and pride; how she saw that what savored of haughtiness
+was in reality an excess of humility shrouding itself from notice; how
+she dwelt on his love for children, and the instantaneous affection
+he inspired in them towards himself. Last of all, how she won the poor
+girl's heart as she said, “It will never do to leave him there, Lucy; we
+must have him here, at home with us. I think you may intrust it to me; I
+generally find my way in these sort of things.”
+
+Lucy could have fallen at her feet with gratitude as she heard these
+words, and she pressed her hand to her lips and kissed it fervently.
+“Why isn't your brother here? Is he not in Dublin?” asked Mrs. Sewell,
+suddenly.
+
+“Yes, he is in town,” stammered out Lucy, “but grandpapa scarcely knows
+him, and when they did meet, it was most unfortunate. I 'll tell you all
+about it another time.”
+
+“We have many confidences to make each other,” said Mrs. Sewell, with
+a sigh so full of sorrow that Lucy instinctively pressed her hand with
+warmth, as though to imply her trustfulness would, not be ill deposited.
+
+At last came the hour of leave-taking, and the Judge accompanied his
+guests to the door, and even bareheaded handed Lady Lendrick to her
+carriage. To each, as they said “Good-night,” he had some little
+appropriate speech,--a word or two of gracious compliment, uttered with
+all his courtesy.
+
+“I call this little dinner a success, Lucy,” said he, as he stood to say
+“Good-night” on the stairs. “Lady Lendrick was unusually amiable, and
+her daughter-in-law is beyond praise.”
+
+“She is indeed charming,” said Lucy, fervently.
+
+“I found the Colonel also agreeable,--less dictatorial than men of
+his class generally are. I suspect we shall get on well together with
+further acquaintance; but, as Haire said, I was myself to-night, and
+would have struck sparks out of the dullest rock, so that I must not
+impute to him what may only have been the reflex of myself. Ah, dear!
+there was a time when these exertions were the healthful stimulants
+of my life; now they only weary and excite,--good-night, dear child,
+good-night.”
+
+As Lady Lendrick and her party drove homeward, not a word was uttered
+for some minutes after they had taken their seats. It was not till after
+they had passed out of the grounds, and gained the high-road, that she
+herself broke silence. “Well, Dudley,” said she at last, “is he like my
+description? Was my portrait too highly colored?”
+
+“Quite the reverse. It was a faint weak sketch of the great original.
+In all my life I never met such inordinate vanity and such overweening
+pretension. I give him the palm as the most conceited man and the
+greatest bore in Christendom.”
+
+“Do you wonder now if I could n't live with him?” asked she, half
+triumphantly.
+
+“I 'll not go that far. I think I could live with him if I saw my way to
+any advantage by it.”
+
+“I'm certain you could not! The very things you now reprobate are the
+few endurable traits about him. It is in the resources of his intense
+conceit he finds whatever renders him pleasant and agreeable. I wish you
+saw his other humor.”
+
+“I can imagine it may not be all that one would desire; but still--”
+
+“It comes well from you to talk of submitting and yielding,” burst out
+Lady Lendrick. “I certainly have not yet detected these traits in your
+character; and I tell you frankly, you and Sir William could not live a
+week under the same roof together. Don't you agree with me, Lucy?”
+
+“What should she know about it?” said he, fiercely; and before she could
+reply, “I don't suspect she knows a great deal about me,--she knows
+nothing at all about _him_.”
+
+“Well, would you like to live with him yourself, Lucy?” asked Lady
+Lendrick.
+
+“I don't say I 'd _like_ it, but I think it might be done,” said she,
+faintly, and scarcely raising her eyes as she spoke.
+
+“Of course, then, my intractable temper is the cause of all our
+incompatibility; my only consolation is that I have a son and a
+daughter-in-law so charmingly endowed that their virtues are more than
+enough to outweigh my faults.”
+
+“What I say is this,” said the Colonel, sternly,--“I think the man is a
+bore or a bully, but that he need n't be both if one does n't like
+it. Now I 'd consent to be bored, to escape being bullied, which is
+precisely the reverse of what you appear to have done.”
+
+“I am charmed with the perspicuity you display. I hope, Lucy, that it
+tends to the happiness of your married life to have a husband so well
+able to read character.”
+
+Apparently this was a double-headed shot, for neither spoke for several
+minutes.
+
+“I declare I almost wish he would put you to the test,” said Lady
+Lendrick. “I mean, I wish he'd ask you to the Priory.”
+
+“I fancy it is what he means to do,” said Mrs. Sewell, in the same
+low tone,--“at least he came to me when I was standing in the small
+drawing-room, and said, 'How would you endure the quiet stillness and
+uniformity of such a life as I lead here? Would its dulness overpower
+you?'”
+
+“Of course, you said it would be paradise,” broke in her Ladyship; “you
+hinted all about your own resources, and such-like.”
+
+“She did no such thing; she took the pathetic line, put her handkerchief
+to her eyes, and implied how she would love it, as a refuge from the
+cruel treatment of a bad husband,--eh, am I right?” Harsh and insolent
+as the words were, the accents in which they were uttered were far more
+so. “Out with it, Madam! was it not something like that you said?”
+
+“No,” said she, gently. “I told Sir William I was supremely happy,
+blessed in every accident and every relation of my life, and that
+hitherto I had never seen the spot which could not suit the glad temper
+of my heart.”
+
+“You keep the glad temper confoundedly to yourself then,” burst he out.
+“I wish you were not such a niggard of it.”
+
+“Dudley, Dudley, I say,” cried Lady Lendrick, in a tone of reproof.
+
+“I have learned not to mind these amenities,” said Mrs. Sewell, in a
+quiet voice, “and I am only surprised that Colonel Sewell thinks it
+worth while to continue them.”
+
+“If it be your intention to become Sir William's guest, I must say such
+habits will require to be amended,” said her Ladyship, gravely.
+
+“So they shall, mother. Your accomplished and amiable husband, as you
+once called him in a letter to me, shall only see us in our turtle
+moods, and never be suffered to approach our cage save when we are
+billing and cooing.”
+
+The look of aversion he threw at his wife as he spoke was something
+that words cannot convey; and though she never raised eyes to meet it, a
+sickly pallor crept over her cheek as the blight fell on her.
+
+“I am to call on him to-morrow, by appointment. I wish he had not said
+twelve. One has not had his coffee by twelve; but as he said, 'I hope
+that will not be too early for you,' I felt it better policy to reply,
+'By no means;' and so I must start as if for a journey.”
+
+“What does he mean by asking you to come at that hour? Have you any
+notion what his business is?”
+
+“Not the least. We were in the hall. I was putting on my coat, when he
+suddenly turned round and asked me if I could without inconvenience drop
+in about twelve.”
+
+“I wonder what it can be for.”
+
+“I'll tell you what I hope it may not be for! I hope it may not be to
+show me his conservatory, or his Horatian garden, as he pedantically
+called it, or his fish-ponds. If so, I think I 'll invite him some
+fine morning to turn over all my protested bills, and the various writs
+issued against me. Bore for Bore, I suspect we shall come out of the
+encounter pretty equal.”
+
+“He has some rare gems. I'd not wonder if it was to get you to select a
+present for Lucy.”
+
+“If I thought so, I'd take a jeweller with me, as though my friend, to
+give me a hint as to the value.”
+
+“He admires you greatly, Lucy; he told me so as he took me downstairs.”
+
+“She has immense success with men of that age: nothing over eighty seems
+able to resist her.”
+
+This time she raised her eyes, and they met his, not with their former
+expression, but full of defiance, and of an insolent meaning, so that
+after a moment he turned away his gaze, and with a seeming struggle
+looked abashed and ashamed. “The first change I will ask you to make in
+that house,” said Lady Lendrick, who had noticed this by-play, “if ever
+you become its inmates, will be to dismiss that tiresome old hanger-on,
+Mr. Haire. I abhor him.”
+
+“My first reform will be in the sherry,--to get rid of that vile sugary
+compound of horrid nastiness he gives you After soup. The next will be
+the long-tailed black coach-horses. I don't think a man need celebrate
+his own funeral every time he goes out for a drive.”
+
+“Haire,” resumed Lady Lendrick, in a tone of severity, meant, perhaps,
+to repress all banter on a serious subject,--“Haire not only supplies
+food to his vanity, but stimulates his conceit by little daily stories
+of what the world says of him. I wish he would listen to _me_ on that
+subject,--I wish he would take _my_ version of his place in popular
+estimation.”
+
+“I opine that the granddaughter should be got rid of,” said the Colonel.
+
+“She is a fool,--only a fool,” said Lady Lendrick.
+
+“I don't think her a fool,” said Mrs. Sewell, slowly.
+
+“I don't exactly mean so much; but that she has no knowledge of life,
+and knows nothing whatever of the position she is placed in, nor how to
+profit by it.”
+
+“I'd not even go that far,” said Mrs. Sewell, in the same quiet tone.
+
+“Don't pay too much attention to _that_,” said the Colonel to his
+mother. “It's one of her ways always to see something in every one that
+nobody else has discovered.”
+
+“I made that mistake once too often for my own welfare,” said she, in a
+voice only audible to his ear.
+
+“She tells me, mother, that she made that same mistake once too often
+for her own welfare; which being interpreted, means in taking me for her
+husband,--a civil speech to make a man in presence of his mother.”
+
+“I begin to think that politeness is not the quality any of us are eager
+about,” said Lady Lendrick; “and I must say I am not at all sorry that
+the drive is over.”
+
+“If I had been permitted to smoke, you'd not have been distressed by any
+conversational excesses on my part,” said the Colonel.
+
+“I shall know better another time, Dudley; and possibly-it would be
+as well to be suffocated with tobacco as half-choked with anger. Thank
+heaven we are at the door!”
+
+“May I take your horses as far as the Club?” asked Sewell, as he handed
+her out.
+
+“Yes, but not to wait. You kept them on Tuesday night till past four
+o'clock.”
+
+“On second thought, I'll walk,” said he, turning away. “Good-night;”
+ and leaving his wife to be assisted down the steps by the footman, he
+lighted his cigar, and walked away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING
+
+The little lodging occupied by Sir Brook and young Lendrick was in a
+not very distinguished suburb near Cullen's Wood. It was in a small
+one-storied cottage, whose rickety gate bore the inscription “Avoca
+Villa” on a black board, under which, in the form of permanence that
+indicated frequent changes of domicile, were the words, “Furnished
+Apartments, and Board if required.” A small enclosure, with three
+hollyhocks in a raised mound in the centre, and a luxurious crop of
+nettles around, served as garden: a narrow path of very rough shingle
+conducted to the door.
+
+The rooms within were very small, low, and meanly furnished; they
+bespoke both poverty and neglect; and while the broken windows,
+the cobwebbed ceiling, and the unwashed floor all indicated that no
+attention was bestowed on comfort or even decency, over the fireplace,
+in a large black frame, was a painting representing the genealogical
+tree of the house of the proprietor, Daniel O'Reardon, Esquire, the
+lineal descendant of Frenok-Dhubh-na-Bochlish O'Reardon, who was King of
+West Carbarry, a.d. 703, and who, though at present only a doorkeeper in
+H. M. Court of Exchequer, had royal blood in his veins, and very kingly
+thoughts in his head.
+
+If a cruel destiny compelled Mr. O'Reardon to serve the Saxon, he “took
+it out” in a most hearty hatred of his patron. He denounced him when he
+talked, and he reviled him when he sang. He treasured up paragraphs of
+all the atrocities of the English press, and he revelled in the severe
+strictures which the Irish papers bestowed on them. So far as hating
+went, he was a true patriot.
+
+If some people opined that Mr. O'Reardon's political opinions rather
+partook of what was in vogue some sixty-odd years ago than what
+characterized a time nearer our own day, there were others, less
+generous critics, who scrupled not to say that he was a paid spy of the
+Government, and that all the secret organization of treason--all the
+mysterious plotting of rebellion that seems never to die completely
+out in Ireland--were known to and reported by this man to the Castle.
+Certain it was that he lived in a way his humble salary at the Four
+Courts could not have met, and indulged in convivial excesses far beyond
+the reach of his small income.
+
+When Sir Brook and Tom Lendrick became his lodgers, he speedily saw that
+they belonged to a class far above what usually resorted to his humble
+house. However studiously simple they might be in all their demands,
+they were unmistakably gentlemen; and this fact, coupled with their
+evident want of all employment or occupation, considerably puzzled Mr.
+O'Reardon, and set him a-thinking what they could be, who they were,
+and, as he phrased it, “what they were at.” No letters came for them,
+nor, as they themselves gave no names, was there any means of tracing
+their address; and to his oft-insinuated request, “If any one asks
+for you, sir, by what name will I be able to answer?” came the same
+invariable “No one will call;” and thus was Mr. O'Reardon reduced
+to designate them to his wife as the “old chap” and the “young
+one,”--titles which Sir Brook and Tom more than once overheard through
+the frail partitions of the ill-built house.
+
+It is not impossible that O'Reardon's peculiar habits and line of life
+disposed him to attach a greater significance to the seeming mystery
+that surrounded his lodgers than others might have ascribed; it is
+probable that custom had led him to suspect everything that was in any
+way suspicious. These men draw many a cover where there is no fox, but
+they rarely pass a gorse thicket and leave one undetected. His lodgers
+thus became to him a study. Had he been a man of leisure, he would have
+devoted the whole of it to their service; he would have dogged their
+steps, learned their haunts, and watched their acquaintances,--if
+they had any. Sunday was, however, his one free day, and by some
+inconceivable perversity they usually spent the entire of it at home.
+
+The few books they possessed bore no names, some of them were in foreign
+languages, and increased thereby Mr. O'Reardon's suspicious distrust;
+but none gave any clew to their owners. There was another reason for his
+eagerness and anxiety; for a long time back Ireland had been generally
+in a condition of comparative quiet and prosperity; there was less
+of distress, and, consequently, less of outrage. The people seemed at
+length to rely more upon themselves and their own industry than on
+the specious promises of trading politicians, and Mr. O'Reardon, whose
+functions, I fear, were not above reproach in the matter of secret
+information, began to fear lest some fine morning he might be told his
+occupation was gone, and that his employers no longer needed the fine
+intelligence that could smell treason, even by a sniff; he must, he
+said, do something to revive the memory of his order, or the chance was
+it would be extinguished forever.
+
+He had to choose between denouncing them as French emissaries or
+American sympathizers. A novel of Balzac's that lay on the table decided
+for the former, for he knew enough to be aware it was in French; and
+fortified with this fact, he proceeded to draw up his indictment for the
+Castle.
+
+It was, it must be confessed, a very meagre document; it contained
+little beyond the writer's own suspicions. Two men who were poor enough
+to live in Avoca Villa, and yet rich enough to do nothing for their
+livelihood, who gave no names, went out at unseasonable hours, and
+understood French, ought to be dangerous, and required to be watched,
+and therefore he gave an accurate description of their general
+appearance, age, and dress, at the office of the Private Secretary, and
+asked for his “instructions” in consequence.
+
+Mr. O'Reardon was not a bad portrait-painter with his pen, and in
+the case of Sir Brook there were peculiarities enough to make even
+a caricature a resemblance; his tall narrow head, his long drooping
+moustache, his massive gray eyebrows, his look of stern dignity, would
+have marked him, even without the singularities of dress which recalled
+the fashions of fifty years before.
+
+Little, indeed, did the old man suspect that his high-collared coat and
+bell-shaped hat were subjecting him to grave doubts upon his loyalty.
+Little did he think, as he sauntered at evening along the green lanes
+in this retired neighborhood, that his thoughts ought to have been on
+treason and bloodshed.
+
+He had come to the little lodging, it is true, for privacy. After his
+failure in that memorable interview with Sir William Lendrick, he had
+determined that he would not either importune the Viceroy for place, or
+would he be in any way the means of complicating the question between
+the Government and the Chief Baron by exciting the Lord-Lieutenant's
+interest in his behalf.
+
+“We must change our lodging, Tom,” said he, when he came home on that
+night. “I am desirous that, for the few days we remain here, none should
+trace nor discover us. I will not accept what are called compensations,
+nor will I live on here to be either a burden or a reproach to men who
+were once only my equals.”
+
+“You found my worthy grandfather somewhat less tractable than you
+thought for, sir?” asked Tom.
+
+“He was very fiery and very haughty; but on the whole, there was much
+that I liked in him. Such vitality in a man of his years is in itself a
+grand quality, and even in its aggressiveness suggests much to regard.
+He refused to hear of me for the vacant office, and he would not accept
+_you_.”
+
+“How did he take your proposal to aid us by a loan?”
+
+“I never made it. The terms we found ourselves on after half an hour's
+discussion of other matters rendered such a project impossible.”
+
+“And Lucy, how did she behave through it all?”
+
+“She was not there; I did not see her.”
+
+“So that it turned out as I predicted,--a mere meeting to exchange
+amenities.”
+
+“The amenities were not many, Tom; and I doubt much if your grandfather
+will treasure up any very delightful recollections of my acquaintance.”
+
+“I'd like to see the man, woman, or child,” burst out Tom, “who ever got
+out of his cage without a scratch. I don't believe that Europe contains
+his equal for irascibility.”
+
+“Don't dwell on these views of life,” said Sir Brook, almost sternly.
+“You, nor I, know very little what are the sources of those intemperate
+outbreaks we so often complain of,--what sore trials are ulcerating the
+nature, what agonizing maladies, what secret terrors, what visions of
+impending misery; least of all do we know or take count of the fact that
+it is out of these high-strung temperaments we obtain those thrilling
+notes of human passion and tenderness coarser natures never attain to.
+Let us bear with a passing discord in the instrument whose cadences can
+move us to very ecstasy.”
+
+Tom hung his head in silence, but he certainly did not seem convinced.
+Sir Brook quietly resumed: “How often have I told you that the world
+has more good than bad in it,--yes, and what's more, that as we go on
+in life this conviction strengthens in us, and that our best experiences
+are based on getting rid of our disbeliefs. Hear what happened me this
+morning. You know that for some days back I have been negotiating to
+raise a small loan of four hundred pounds to take us to Sardinia and
+start our mine. Mr. Waring, who was to have lent me this sum on the
+security of the mine itself, took it into his head to hesitate at the
+last hour, and inserted an additional clause that I should insure my
+life in his behalf.
+
+“I was disconcerted, of course, by this,--so much so, that had I not
+bought a variety of tools and implements on trust, I believe I would
+have relinquished the bargain and tried elsewhere. It was, however, too
+late for this; I was driven to accept his terms, and, accredited with a
+printed formula from an insurance office, I waited on the doctor who was
+to examine me.
+
+“A very brief investigation satisfied him that I was not seaworthy; he
+discovered I know not what about the valves of my heart, that implied
+mischief, and after 'percussing' me, as he called it, and placing his
+ear to my chest, he said, 'I regret to say, sir, that I cannot pronounce
+you insurable.'
+
+“I could have told him that I came of a long-lived race on either side;
+that during my life I had scarcely known an illness, that I had borne
+the worst climates without injury, and such-like,--but I forbore; I
+had too much deference for his station and his acquirements to set
+my judgment against them, and I arose to take my leave. It is just
+possible, though I cannot say I felt it, that his announcement might
+have affected me; at all events, the disappointment did so, and I was
+terrified about the difficulties in which I saw myself involved. I
+became suddenly sick, and I asked for a glass of water; before it came I
+had fainted, a thing that never in my whole life had befallen me.
+When, I rallied, he led me to talk of my usual habits and pursuits,
+and gradually brought me to the subject which had led me-to his house.
+'What!' said he, 'ask for any security beyond the property itself! It is
+absurd; Waring is always-doing these things. Let me advance this money.
+I know a great deal more about you, Sir Brook, than you think; my friend
+Dr. Lendrick has spoken much of you, and of all your kindness to his
+son; and though you may not have heard of my name,--Beattie,--I am very
+familiar with yours.'
+
+“In a word, Tom, he advanced the money. It is now in that writing-desk;
+and I have--I feel it--a friend the-more in the world. As I left his
+door, I could not help saying to myself, What signify a few days more or
+less of life, so long as such generous traits as this follow one to the
+last? He made me a happier man by his noble trust in me than if he had
+declared me a miracle of strength and vigor. Who is that looking in at
+the window, Tom? It's the second time I have seen a face there.”
+
+Tom started to his feet and hurried to the door. There was, however, no
+one there; and the little lane was silent and deserted. He stopped a few
+minutes to listen, but not a footfall could be heard, and he returned to
+the room believing it must have been a mere illusion.
+
+“Let us light candles, Tom, and have out our maps. I want to see whether
+Marseilles will not be our best and cheapest route to the island.”
+
+They were soon poring eagerly over the opened map, Sir Brook carefully
+studying all the available modes of travel; while Tom, be it owned, let
+his eyes wander from land to land, till following out the Danube to the
+Black Sea, he crossed over and stretched away into the mountain gorges
+of Circassia, where Schamyl and his brave followers were then fighting
+for liberty. For maps, like the lands they picture, never offer to
+two minds kindred thoughts; each follows out in space the hopes and
+ambitions that his heart is charged with; and where one reads wars
+and battle-fields, another but sees pastoral pleasures and a tranquil
+existence,--home and home-happiness.
+
+“Yes, Tom; here I have it. These coasting-craft, whose sailing-lines
+are marked here, will take us and our traps to Cagliari for a mere
+trifle,--here is the route.”
+
+As the young man bent over the map, the door behind opened, and a
+stranger entered. “So I have found you, Fossbrooke!” cried he, “though
+they insisted you had left Ireland ten days ago.”
+
+“Mercy on me! Lord Wilmington!” said Sir Brook, as he shaded his eyes to
+stare at him. “What could have brought you here?”
+
+“I 'll tell you,” said he, dropping his voice. “I read a description so
+very like you in the secret report this morning, that I sent my servant
+Curtis, who knows you well, to see if it was not yourself; when he
+came back to me--for I waited for him at the end of the lane--with the
+assurance that I was right, I came on here. I must tell you that I took
+the precaution to have your landlord detained, as if for examination, at
+the Under-Secretary's office; and he is the only one here who knows me.
+Mr. Lendrick, I hope you have not forgotten me? We met some months ago
+on the Shannon.”
+
+“What can I offer you?” said Sir Brook. “Shall it be tea? We were just
+going to have it.”
+
+“I 'll take whatever you like to give me; but let us profit by the few
+moments I can stay. Tell me how was it you failed with the Chief Baron?”
+
+“He wouldn't have me; that's all. He maintains his right to an undivided
+patronage, and will accept of no dictation.”
+
+“Will he accept of your friend here? He has strong claims on him.”
+
+“As little as myself, my Lord; he grew eloquent on his public virtue,
+and of course became hopeless.”
+
+“Will he retire and let us compensate him?”
+
+“I believe not. He thinks the country has a vested interest in his
+capacity, and as he cannot be replaced, he has no right to retire.''
+
+“He may make almost his own terms with us, Fossbrooke,” said
+the Viceroy. “We want to get rid of himself and an intractable
+Solicitor-General together. Will you try what can be done?”
+
+“Not I, my Lord. I have made my first and last advances in that
+quarter.”
+
+“And yet I believe you are our last chance. He told Pemberton yesterday
+you were the one man of ability that ever called on him with a message
+from a Viceroy.”
+
+“Let us leave him undisturbed in his illusion, my Lord.”
+
+“I 'd say, let us profit by it, Fossbrooke. I have been in search of you
+these eight days, to beg you would take the negotiation in hand. Come,
+Mr. Lendrick, you are interested in this; assist me in persuading Sir
+Brook to accept this charge. If he will undertake the mission, I am
+ready to give him ample powers to treat.”
+
+“I suspect, my Lord,” said Tom, “you do not know my grandfather. He is
+not a very manageable person to deal with.”
+
+“It is for that reason I want to place him in the hands of my old friend
+here.”
+
+“No, no, my Lord; it is quite hopeless. Had we never met, I might
+have come before him with some chance of success; but I have already
+prejudiced myself in his eyes, and our one interview was not very
+gratifying to either of us.”
+
+“I'll not give in, Fossbrooke, even though I am well aware I can do
+nothing to requite the service I ask of you.”
+
+“We leave Ireland to-morrow evening. We have a project which requires
+our presence in the island of Sardinia. We are about to make our
+fortunes, my Lord, and I 'm sure you 're not the man to throw any
+obstacle in the way.”
+
+“Give me half an hour of your morning, Fossbrooke; half an hour will
+suffice. Drive out to the Priory; see the Chief Baron; tell him I
+intrusted the negotiation to you, as at once more delicate to each
+of us. You are disconnected with all party ties here. Say it is not a
+question of advancing this man or that,--that we well know how
+inferior must any successor be to himself, but that certain changes
+are all-essential to us. We have not--I may tell you in confidence--the
+right man as our law adviser in the House; and add, 'It is a moment
+to make your own terms; write them down and you shall have your reply
+within an hour,--a favorable one I may almost pledge myself it will be.
+At all events, every detail of the meeting is strictly between us, and
+on honor.' Come, now, Fossbrooke; do this for me as the greatest service
+I could entreat of you.”
+
+“I cannot refuse you any longer. I will go. I only premise that I am to
+limit myself strictly to the statement you shall desire me to repeat. I
+know nothing of the case; and I cannot be its advocate.”
+
+“Just so. Give me your card. I will merely write these words,--'See Sir
+Brook for me.--Wilmington.' Our object is his resignation, and we are
+prepared to pay handsomely for it. Now, a word with you, Mr. Lendrick. I
+heard most honorable mention of you yesterday from the vice-provost; he
+tells me that your college career was a triumph so long as you liked
+it, and that you have abilities for any walk in life. Why not continue,
+then, on so successful a path? Why not remain, take out your degree, and
+emulate that distinguished relative who has thrown such lustre on your
+family?”
+
+“First of all, my Lord, you have heard me much overrated. I am not at
+all the man these gentlemen deem me; secondly, if I were, I 'd rather
+bring my abilities to any pursuit my friend here could suggest. I 'd
+rather be _his_ companion than be my grandfather's rival. You have heard
+what he said awhile ago,--we are going to seek our fortune.”
+
+“He said to make it,” said Lord Wilmington, with a smile.
+
+“Be it so, my Lord. _I 'll_ seek, and _he 'll_ find; at all events, I
+shall be his companion; and I'm a duller dog than I think myself if I do
+not manage to be the better of it.”
+
+“You are not the only one he has fascinated,” said the Viceroy, in a
+whisper. “I 'm not sure I 'd disenchant you if I had the power.”
+
+“Must I positively undertake this negotiation?” asked Fossbrooke, with a
+look of entreaty.
+
+“You must”
+
+“I know I shall fail.”
+
+“I don't believe it.”
+
+“Well, as Lady Macbeth says, if we fail _we fail_; and though murdering
+a king be an easier thing than muzzling a Chief Baron,--here goes.”
+
+As he said this, the door was gently moved, and a head protruded into
+the room.
+
+“Who is that?” cried Tom, springing rapidly towards the door; but
+all was noiseless and quiet, and no one to be seen. “I believe we are
+watched here,” said he, coming back into the room.
+
+“Good-night, then. Let me have your report as early as may be,
+Fossbrooke. Good-night.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. A MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+
+The morning after this interview was that on which the Chief Baron had
+invited Colonel Sewell to inspect his gardens and hothouses,--a promise
+of pleasure which, it is but fair to own, the Colonel regarded with no
+extravagant delight. To his thinking, the old Judge was an insupportable
+bore. His courtesy, his smartness, his anecdotes, his reminiscences were
+all Boredom. He was only endurable when by the excess of his conceit he
+made himself ridiculous. Then alone did Sewell relish his company; for
+he belonged to that class of men, and it is a class, who feel their
+highest enjoyment whenever they witness any trait in human nature that
+serves to disparage its dignity or tarnish its lustre.
+
+That a man of unquestionable ability and power like the Chief
+Baron should render himself absurd through his vanity, was a great
+compensation to such a person as Sewell. To watch the weaknesses and
+note the flaws in a great nature, to treasure up the consolation that,
+after all, these “high intelligences” occasionally make precious fools
+of themselves, are very congenial pastimes to small folk. Perhaps,
+indeed, they are the sole features of such men they are able to
+appreciate, and, like certain reptiles, they never venture to bite save
+where corruption has preceded them.
+
+Nothing in his manner betrayed this tendency; he was polished and
+courteous to a degree. A very critical eye might have detected in
+his bearing that he had been long a subordinate. His deference was a
+little--a very little--overstrained; he listened with a slight tinge
+of over-attention; and in his humility as he heard an order, and his
+activity as he obeyed it, you could read at once the aide-decamp in
+waiting.
+
+It is not necessary to remind the reader that all this lacquer of good
+breeding covered a very coarse and vulgar nature. In manner he was
+charming,--his approach, his address, his conversation were all perfect;
+he knew well when to be silent,--when to concur by a smile with what he
+was not expected to confirm by a word,--when to seem suddenly confronted
+with a new conviction, and how to yield assent as though coerced to
+what he would rather have resisted. In a word, he was perfect in all the
+training of those superb poodles who fetch and carry for their masters,
+that they may have the recompense of snarling at all the rest of
+mankind.
+
+As there are heaven-born doctors, lawyers, divines, and engineers, so
+are there men specially created for the antechamber, and Sewell was one
+of them.
+
+The old Judge had given orders for a liberal breakfast. He deemed a
+soldier's appetite would be a hearty one, and he meant to treat him
+hospitably. The table was therefore very generously spread, and
+Sewell looked approvingly at the fare, and ventured on a few words of
+compliment on the ample preparations before him.
+
+“It is the only real breakfast-table I have seen since I left Calcutta,”
+ said he, smiling graciously.
+
+“You do me honor, sir,” replied the old man, who was not quite sure
+whether or not he felt pleased to be complimented on a mere domestic
+incident.
+
+Sewell saw the hitch at once, and resumed: “I remember an observation
+Lord Commorton made me when I joined his staff in India. I happened to
+make some remark on a breakfast set out pretty much like this, and he
+said, 'Bear in mind, Captain Sewell, that when a man who holds a high
+function sits down to a well-served breakfast, it means that he has
+already completed the really important work of the day. The full head
+means the empty stomach.'”
+
+“His Excellency was right, sir; had he always been inspired with
+sentiments of equal wisdom, we should never have been involved in that
+unhappy Cantankankarabad war.”
+
+“It was a very disastrous affair, indeed,” sighed Sewell; “I was through
+the whole of it.”
+
+“When I first heard of the project,” continued the Judge, “I remarked
+to a friend who was with me,--one of the leading men at the Bar,--'This
+campaign will tarnish our arms, and imperil our hold on India. The
+hill-tribes are eminently warlike, and however specious in their
+promises to us, their fidelity to their chiefs has never been shaken.'”
+
+“If your judgment had been listened to, it would have saved us a heavy
+reverse, and saved me a very painful wound; both bones were fractured
+here,” said Sewell, showing his wrist.
+
+The Chief Baron scarcely deigned a glance at the cicatrix; he was high
+above such puny considerations. He was at that moment Governor-General
+of India and Prime Minister of England together. He was legislating for
+hundreds of millions of dark-skins, and preparing his explanations of
+his policy for the pale faces at home.
+
+“'Mark my words, Haire,' said I,” continued the Judge, with increased
+pomposity of manner, “'this is the beginning of insurrection in India.'
+We have a maxim in law, Colonel Sewell, Like case, like rule. So was it
+there. May I help you to this curry?”
+
+“I declare, my Lord, I was beginning to forget how hungry I was. Shall I
+be deemed impertinent if I ask how you obtained your marvellous--for it
+is marvellous--knowledge of India?”
+
+“Just as I know the Japanese constitution; just as I know Central
+Africa; just as I know, and was able to quote some time back, that
+curious chapter of the Brehon laws on substitutes in penal cases. My
+rule of life has been, never to pass a day without increasing the store
+of my acquirements.”
+
+“And all this with the weighty charge and labor of your high office.”
+
+“Yes, sir; I have been eighteen years on the Bench. I have delivered
+in that time some judgments which have come to be deemed amongst the
+highest principles of British law. I have contributed largely to the
+periodical literature of the time. In a series of papers--you may not
+have heard of them--signed 'Icon,' in the 'Lawyer's Treasury of Useful
+Facts,' I have defended the Bar against the aggressive violence of the
+Legislature, I hope it is not too much to say, triumphantly.”
+
+“I remember Judge Beale, our Indian Chief-Justice, referring to those
+papers as the most splendid statement of the position and claims of the
+barrister in Great Britain.”
+
+“Beale was an ass, sir; his law was a shade below his logic,--both were
+pitiable.”
+
+“Indeed?--yes, a little more gravy. Is your cook a Provençal? that
+omelette would seem to say so.”
+
+“My cook is a woman, and an Irishwoman, sir. She came to me from Lord
+Manners, and, I need not say, with the worst traditions of her art,
+which, under Lady Lendrick's training, attained almost to the dignity of
+poisoning.”
+
+Sewell could not restrain himself any longer, but laughed out at this
+sudden outburst. The old Judge was, however, pleased to accept the
+emotion as complimentary; he smiled and went on: “I recognized her
+aptitude, and resolved to train her, and to this end I made it a
+practice to detain her every morning after prayers, and read to her
+certain passages from approved authors on cookery, making her experiment
+on the receipts for the servants' hall. We had at first some slight
+cases of illness, but not more serious than colic and violent cramps. In
+the end she was successful, sir, and has become what you see her.”
+
+“She would be a _cordon bleu_ in Paris.”
+
+“I will take care, sir, that she hears of your approval. Would you not
+like a glass of Maraschino to finish with?”
+
+“I have just tasted your brandy, and it is exquisite.”
+
+“I cannot offer you a cigar, Colonel; but you are at liberty to smoke if
+you have one.”
+
+“If I might have a stroll in that delicious garden that I see there, I
+could ask nothing better. Ah, my Lord,” said he, as they sauntered
+down a richly scented alley, “India has nothing like this,--I doubt if
+Paradise has any better.”
+
+“You mean to return to the East?”
+
+“Not if I can help it,--not if an exchange is possible. The fact is,
+my Lord, my dear wife's health makes India impossible so far as she is
+concerned; the children, too, are of the age that requires removal to
+Europe; so that, if I go back, I go back alone.” He said this with
+a voice of deep depression, and intending to inspire the sorrow that
+overwhelmed him. The old Judge, however, fancied he had heard of heavier
+calamities in life than living separated from the wife of his bosom;
+he imagined, at least, that with courage and fortitude the deprivation
+might be endured; so he merely twitched the corners of his mouth in
+silence.
+
+The Colonel misread his meaning, and went on: “Aspiring to nothing in
+life beyond a home and home-happiness, it is, of course, a heavy blow
+to me to sacrifice either my career or my comfort. I cannot possibly
+anticipate a return earlier than eight or ten years; and who is to count
+upon eight or ten years in that pestilent climate? Assuredly not a man
+already broken down by wounds and jungle fever!”
+
+The justice of the remark was, perhaps, sufficient for the Chief Baron.
+He paid no attention to its pathetic side, and _so_ did not reply.
+
+Sewell began to lose patience, but he controlled himself, and, after a
+few puffs of his cigar, went on: “If it were not for the children, I 'd
+take the thing easy enough. Half-pay is a beggarly thing, but I 'd
+put up with it. I 'm not a man of expensive tastes. If I can relish
+thoroughly such sumptuous fare as you gave me this morning, I can put up
+with very humble diet. I 'm a regular soldier in that.”
+
+“An excellent quality, sir,” said the old man, dryly.
+
+“Lucy, of course, would suffer. There are privations which fall very
+heavily on a woman, and a woman, too, who has always been accustomed to
+a good deal of luxury.”
+
+The Chief bowed an assent.
+
+“I suppose I might get a depot appointment for a year or two. I might
+also--if I sold out--manage a barrack-mastership, or become an inspector
+of yeomanry, or some such vulgar makeshift; but I own, my Lord, when
+a man has filled the places I have,--held staff appointments,--been a
+private secretary,--discharged high trusts, too, for in Mooraghabad
+I acted as Deputy-Resident for eight months,--it does seem a precious
+come-down to ask to be made a paymaster in a militia regiment, or a
+subaltern in the mounted police.”
+
+“Civil life is always open to a man of activity and energy,” said the
+Judge, calmly.
+
+“If civil life means a profession, it means the sort of labor a man is
+very unfit for after five-and-thirty. The Church, of course, is open on
+easier terms; but I have scruples about the Church. I really could not
+take orders without I could conscientiously say, This is a walk I feel
+called to.”
+
+“An honorable sentiment, sir,” was the dry rejoinder.
+
+“So that the end will be, I suppose, one of these days I shall just
+repack my bullock-trunk, and go back to the place from whence I came,
+with the fate that attends such backward journeys!”
+
+The Chief Baron made no remark. He stooped to fasten, a fallen carnation
+to the stick it had been attached to, and then resumed his walk. Sewell
+was so provoked by the sense of failure--for it had been a direct
+assault--that he walked along silent and morose. His patience could
+endure no longer, and he was ready now to resent whatever should annoy
+him.
+
+“Have you any of the requirements, sir, that civil services demand?”
+ asked the Judge, after a long pause.
+
+“I take it I have such as every educated gentleman possesses,” replied
+Sewell, tartly.
+
+“And what may these be, in your estimation?”
+
+“I can read and write, I know the first three rules of arithmetic, and I
+believe these are about the qualifications that fit a man for a place in
+the Cabinet.”
+
+“You are right, sir. With these, and the facility to talk platitudes in
+Parliament, a man may go very far and very high in life. I see that you
+know the world.”
+
+Sewell, for a moment, scarcely knew whether to accept the speech as
+irony or approval; but a sidelong glance showed him that the old man's
+face had resumed its expression of mingled insolence and vanity, and
+convinced him that he was now sincere. “The men,” said the Judge,
+pompously, “who win their way to high station in these days are either
+the crafty tricksters of party or the gross flatterers of the people;
+and whenever a man of superior mould is discovered, able to leave his
+mark on the age, and capable of making his name a memory, they have
+nothing better to offer him, as their homage, than an entreaty that he
+would resign his office and retire.”
+
+“I go with every word you say, my Lord,” cried Sewell, with a well-acted
+enthusiasm.
+
+“I want no approval, sir; I can sustain my opinions without a
+following!” A long silence ensued; neither was disposed to speak: at
+last the Judge said,--and he now spoke in a more kindly tone, divested
+alike of passion and of vanity,--“Your friends must see if something
+cannot be done for you, Colonel Sewell. I have little doubt but that
+you have many and warm friends. I speak not of myself; I am but a broken
+reed to depend on. Never was there one with less credit with his party.
+I might go farther, and say, never was there one whose advocacy would
+be more sure to damage a good cause; therefore exclude _me_ in all
+questions of your advancement. If you could obliterate our relationship,
+it might possibly serve you.”
+
+“I am too proud of it, my Lord, to think so.”
+
+“Well, sir,” said he, with a sigh, “it is possibly a thing a man need
+not feel ashamed of; at least I hope as much. But we must take the world
+as it is, and when we want the verdict of public opinion, we must not
+presume to ask for a special jury. What does that servant want? Will you
+have the kindness to ask him whom he is looking for?”
+
+“It is a visitor's card, my Lord,” said Sewell, handing it to the old
+man as he spoke.
+
+“There is some writing on it. Do me the favor to read it.”
+
+Sewell took the card and read, “See Sir B. for me.--Wilmington. Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke.” The last words Sewell spoke in a voice barely above
+a whisper, for a deadly sickness came over him, and he swayed to and fro
+like one about to faint.
+
+“What! does he return to the charge?” cried the old man, fiercely. “The
+Viceroy was a diplomatist once. Might it not have taught him that, after
+a failure, it would be as well to employ another envoy?”
+
+“You have seen this gentleman already, then?” asked Sewell, in a low
+faint tone.
+
+“Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half together,--an hour and half that
+neither of us will easily forget.”
+
+“I conjecture, then, that he made no very favorable impression upon you,
+my Lord?”
+
+“Sir, you go too fast. I have said nothing to warrant your surmise; nor
+am I one to be catechised as to the opinions I form of other men. It is
+enough on the present occasion if I say I do not desire to receive Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke, accredited though he be from so high a quarter.
+Will you do me the very great favor”--and now his voice became almost
+insinuating in its tone--“will you so deeply oblige me ate to see him
+for me? Say that I am prevented by the state of my health; that the
+rigorous injunctions of my doctor to avoid all causes of excitement--lay
+stress on excitement--deprive me of the honor of receiving him in
+person; but that _you_--mention our relationship--have been deputed by
+me to hear, and if necessary to convey to me, any communication he
+may have to make. You will take care to impress upon him that if the
+subject-matter of his visit be the same as that so lately discussed
+between ourselves, you will avail yourself of the discretion confided
+to you not to report it to me. That my nerves have not sufficiently
+recovered from the strain of that excitement to return to a topic
+no less full of irritating features than utterly hopeless of
+all accommodation. Mind, sir, that you employ the word as I give
+it,--'accommodation.' It is a Gallicism, but all the better, where one
+desires to be imperative, and yet vague. You have your instructions,
+sir.”
+
+“Yes, I think I understand what you desire me to do. My only difficulty
+is to know whether the matters Sir Brook Fossbrooke may bring forward
+be the same as those you discussed together. If I had any clew to these
+topics, I should at once be in a position to say, These are themes I
+must decline to present to the Chief Baron.”
+
+“You have no need to know them, sir,” said the old man, haughtily. “You
+are in the position of an attesting witness; you have no dealing with
+the body of the document. Ask Sir Brook the question as I have put it,
+and reply as I have dictated.”
+
+Sewell stood for a moment in deep thought. Had the old man but known
+over what realms of space his mind was wandering,--what troubles and
+perplexities that brain was encountering,--he might have been more
+patient and more merciful as he gazed on him.
+
+“I don't think, sir, I have confided to you any very difficult or very
+painful task,” said the Judge at last.
+
+“Nothing of the kind, my Lord,” replied he, quickly; “my anxiety is
+only that I may acquit myself to your perfect satisfaction. I 'll go at
+once.”
+
+“You will find me here whenever you want me.”
+
+Sewell bowed, and went his way; not straight towards the house, however,
+but into a little copse at the end of the garden, to recover his
+equanimity and collect himself. Of all the disasters that could befall
+him, he knew of none he was less ready to confront than the presence of
+Sir Brook Fossbrooke in the same town with himself. No suspicion ever
+crossed his mind that he would come to Ireland. The very last he had
+heard of him was in New Zealand, where it was said he was about to
+settle. What, too, could be his business with the Chief Baron? Had he
+discovered their relationship, and was he come to denounce and expose
+him? No,--evidently not. The Viceroy's introduction of him could not
+point in this direction, and then the old Judge's own manner negatived
+this conjecture. Had he heard but one of the fifty stories Sir Brook
+could have told of him, there would be no question of suffering him to
+cross his threshold.
+
+“How shall I meet him? how shall I address him?” muttered he again and
+again to himself, as he walked to and fro in a perfect agony of trouble
+and perplexity. With almost any other man in the world, Sewell would
+have relied on his personal qualities to carry him through a passage of
+difficulty. He could assume a temper of complete imperturbability; he
+could put on calm, coldness, deference, if needed, to any extent; he
+could have acted his part--it would have been mere acting--as man of
+honor and man of courage to the life, with any other to confront him but
+Sir Brook.
+
+This, however, was the one man on earth who knew him,--the one man by
+whose mercy he was able to hold up his head and maintain his station;
+and that this one man should now be here! here, within a few yards of
+where he stood!
+
+“I could murder him as easily as I go to meet him,” muttered Sewell, as
+he turned towards the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
+
+As Sir Brook sat in the library waiting for the arrival of the Chief
+Baron, Lucy Lendrick came in to look for a book she had been reading.
+“Only think, sir,” said she, flushing deeply with joy and astonishment
+together,--“to find you here! What a delightful surprise!”
+
+“I have come, my dear child,” said he, gravely, “to speak with Sir
+William on a matter of some importance; and evidently he is not aware
+that my moments are precious, for I have been here above half an hour
+alone.”
+
+“But now that I am with you,” said she, coquettishly, “you 'll surely
+not be so churlish of your time, will you?”
+
+“There is no churlishness, my darling Lucy, in honest thrift. I
+have nothing to give away.” The deep sadness of his voice showed how
+intensely his words were charged with a stronger significance. “We are
+off to-night.”
+
+“To-night!” cried she, eagerly.
+
+“Yes, Lucy. It's no great banishment,--only to an island in the
+Mediterranean, and Tom came up here with me in the vague, very vague
+hope he might see you. I left him in the shrubbery near the gate, for he
+would not consent to come farther.”
+
+“I 'll go to him at once. We shall meet again,” said she, as she opened
+the sash-door and hastened down the lawn at speed.
+
+After another wait of full a quarter of an hour, Foss-brooke's patience
+became exhausted, and he drew nigh the bell to summon a servant; his
+hand was on the rope, when the door opened, and Sewell entered. Whatever
+astonishment Fossbrooke might have felt at this unexpected appearance,
+nothing in his manner or look betrayed it. As for Sewell, all his
+accustomed ease had deserted him, and he came forward with an air of
+assumed swagger, but his color came and went, and his hands twitched
+almost convulsively.
+
+He bowed, and, smiling courteously, invited Fossbrooke to be seated.
+Haughtily drawing himself up to his full height, Sir Brook said, in his
+own deep sonorous voice, “There can be nothing between us, sir, that
+cannot be dismissed in a moment--and as we stand.”
+
+“As you please, sir,” rejoined Sewell, with an attempt at the same
+haughty tone. “I have been deputed by my stepfather, the Chief Baron,
+to make his excuses for not receiving you,--his health forbids
+the excitement. It is his-wish that you may make to _me_ whatever
+communication you had destined for _him_.”
+
+“Which I refuse, sir, at once,” interrupted Sir Brook. “I opine, then,
+there is no more to be said,” said Sewell, with a faint smile.
+
+“Nothing more, sir,--not a word; unless perhaps you will be gracious
+enough to explain to the Chief Baron the reasons--they cannot be unknown
+to you--why I refuse all and any communication with Colonel Sewell.”
+
+“I have no presumption to read your mind and know your thoughts,” said
+Sewell, with quiet politeness.
+
+“You would discover nothing in either to your advantage, sir,” said
+Fossbrooke, defiantly.
+
+“Might I add, sir,” said Sewell, with an easy smile, “that all your
+malevolence cannot exceed my indifference to it?”
+
+Fossbrooke waived his hand haughtily, as though to dismiss the subject
+and all discussion of it, and after a few seconds' pause said: “We have
+a score that must be settled one day. I have deferred the reckoning out
+of reverence to the memory of one whose name must not be uttered between
+us, but the day for it shall come. Meanwhile, sir, you shall pay me
+interest on your debt.”
+
+“What do you assume me to owe you?” asked Sewell, whose agitation could
+no longer be masked.
+
+“You would laugh if I said, your character before the world and the
+repute through which men keep your company; but you will not laugh--no,
+sir, not even smile--when I say that you owe me the liberty by which
+you are at large, instead of being, as I could prove you, a forger and a
+felon.”
+
+Sewell threw a hurried and terrified look around the room, as though
+there might possibly be some to overhear the words; he grasped the back
+of a chair to steady himself, and in the convulsive effort seemed as if
+he was about to commit some act of violence.
+
+“None of that, sir,” said Fossbrooke, folding his arms.
+
+“I meant nothing; I intended nothing; I was faint, and wanted support,”
+ stammered out Sewell, in a broken voice. “What do you mean by interest?
+How am I to pay interest on an indefinite sum?”
+
+“It may relieve you of some anxiety to learn that I am not speaking
+of money in the interest I require of you. What I want--what I shall
+exact--is this: that you and yours--” He stopped and grew scarlet; the
+fear lest something coarse or offensive might fall from him in a moment
+of heat and anger arrested his words, and he was silent.
+
+Sewell saw all the difficulty. A less adroit man would have deemed the
+moment favorable to assert a triumph; Sewell was too acute for this, and
+waited without speaking a word.
+
+“My meaning is this,” said Fossbrooke, in a voice of emotion. “There is
+a young lady here for whom I have the deepest interest. I desire that,
+so long as she lives estranged from her father's roof, she should not be
+exposed to other influences than such as she has met there. She is new
+to life and the world, and I would not that she should make acquaintance
+with them through any guidance save of her own nearest and dearest
+friends.”
+
+“I hear, sir; but, I am free to own, I greatly mistrust myself to
+appreciate your meaning.”
+
+“I am sorry for it,” said Fossbrooke, sighing. “I wanted to convey my
+hope that in your intercourse here Miss Lendrick might be spared the
+perils of--of--”
+
+“My wife's friendship, you would say, sir,” said Sewell, with a perfect
+composure of voice and look.
+
+Fossbrooke hung his head. Shame and sorrow alike crushed him down. Oh
+that the day should come when he could speak thus of Frank Dillon's
+daughter!
+
+“I will not say with what pain I hear you, Sir Brook,” said Sewell, in
+a low gentle voice. “I am certain that you never uttered such a speech
+without much suffering. It will alleviate your fears when I tell you
+that we only remain a few days in town. I have taken a country house,
+some sixty or seventy miles from the capital, and we mean to live there
+entirely.”
+
+“I am satisfied,” said Sir Brook, whose eagerness to make reparation was
+now extreme.
+
+“Of course I shall mention nothing of this to my wife,” said Sewell.
+
+“Of course not, sir; save with such an explanation as I could give of my
+meaning, it would be an outrage.”
+
+“I was not aware that there was--that there could be--an explanation,”
+ said Sewell, quietly; and then seeing the sudden flash that shot from
+the old man's eyes, he added hastily, “This is far too painful to dwell
+on; let it suffice, sir, that I fully understand you, and that you shall
+be obeyed.”
+
+“I ask no more,” said Fossbrooke, bowing slightly.
+
+“You will comprehend, Sir Brook,” resumed Sewell, “that as I am
+precluded from making this conversation known to my wife, I shall not be
+able to limit any intimacy between her and Miss Lendrick farther than by
+such intimations and hints as I may offer without exciting suspicion. It
+might happen, for instance, that in coming up to town we should be Sir
+William's guests. Am I to suppose that you interdict this?”
+
+“I hope I am not capable of such a condition,” said Sir Brook, flushing,
+for at every step and stage of the negotiation he felt that his zeal had
+outrun his judgment, and that he was attempting not only more than he
+could, but more than he ought to do.
+
+“In fairness, Sir Brook,” said Sewell, with an assumed candor that sat
+very well on him, “I ought to tell you that your conditions are very
+easy ones My wife has come to this country to recruit her health and
+look after her children. I myself shall probably be on my way back to
+India soon after Christmas. Our small means totally preclude living
+in the gay world; and,” added he, with a laugh, “if we really had
+any blandishments or captivations at our disposal, they would be best
+bestowed on the Horse Guards, to extend my leave, or assist me to an
+exchange.”
+
+There was high art in the way in which Sewell had so contrived to get
+the old man involved in the conflict of his own feelings that he was
+actually grateful for the easy and even familiar tone employed towards
+him.
+
+“I have wounded this man deeply,” said Fossbrooke to himself. “I have
+said to him things alike unfeeling and ungenerous, and yet he has temper
+enough to treat me amicably, even courteously.”
+
+It was almost on his lips to say that he had still some influence
+with the Horse Guards, that a great man there had been one of his most
+intimate friends in life, and that he was ready to do anything in his
+power with him, when a sudden glance at Sewell's face recalled him at
+once to himself, and he stammered out, “I will detain you no longer,
+sir. Be kind enough to explain to the Lord Chief Baron that my
+communication was of a character that could not be made indirectly. His
+Excellency's name on my card probably suggested as much. It might be
+proper to add that the subject was one solely attaching to his Lordship
+and to his Lordship's interest. He will himself understand what I mean.”
+
+Sewell bowed acquiescence. As he stood at the half-open door, he was
+disposed to offer his hand. It was a bold step, but he knew if it should
+succeed it would be a great victory. The opportunity was too good to be
+lost, and just as Sir Brook turned to say good-morning, Sewell, like one
+carried away by a sudden impulse, held out his hand, and said, “You may
+trust me, Sir Brook.”
+
+“If you wish me to do so, sir, let me not touch your hand,” said the
+old man, with a look of stern and haughty defiance, and he strode out
+without a farewell.
+
+Sewell staggered back into the room and sat down. A clammy cold
+perspiration covered his face and forehead, for the rancor that filled
+his heart sickened him like a malady. “You shall pay for this, by
+heaven! you shall,” muttered he, as he wiped the great drops from his
+brow. “The old fool himself has taught me where he was vulnerable, and
+as I live he shall feel it.”
+
+“His Lordship wants to see you, sir; he is in the garden,” said a
+servant; and Sewell rose and followed him. He stopped twice as he went
+to compose his features and regain his calm. On the last time he even
+rehearsed the few words and the smile by which he meant to accost the
+Judge. The little artifice was, however, forestalled, as Sir William
+met him abruptly with the words, “What a time you have been,
+sir,--forty-eight minutes by my watch!”
+
+“I assure you, my Lord, I'd have made it shorter if I could,” said
+Sewell, with a smile of some significance.
+
+“I am unable to see why you could not have done so. The charge I gave
+you was to report to me, not to negotiate on your own part.”
+
+“Nor did I, my Lord. Sir Brook Fossbrooke distinctly declared that he
+would only communicate with yourself personally,--that what he desired
+to say referred to yourself, and should be answered by yourself.”
+
+“On hearing which, sir, you withdrew?”
+
+“So far as your Lordship was concerned, no more was said between us.
+What passed after this I may be permitted to call private.”
+
+“What, sir! You see a person in _my_ house, at _my_ instance, and with
+_my_ instructions,--who comes to see and confer with _me_; and you
+have the hardihood to tell me that you took that opportunity to discuss
+questions which you call private!”
+
+“I trust, my Lord, you will not press me in this matter; my position is
+a most painful one.”
+
+“It is worse than painful, sir; it is humiliating. But,” added he, after
+a short pause, “I have reason to be grateful to you. You have rescued
+me from, perhaps, a very grave indiscretion. Your position--your wife's
+health--your children's welfare had all interested me. I might have--No
+matter what, sir. I have recovered the balance of my mind. I am myself
+again.”
+
+“My Lord, I will be open with you.”
+
+“I will accept of no forced confidences, sir,” said the Judge, waving
+his hand haughtily.
+
+“They are not forced, my Lord, farther than my dislike to give you pain
+renders them so. The man to whom you sent me this morning is no stranger
+to me--would that he had been!--would that I had never known nor heard
+of him! Very few words will explain why, my Lord. I only entreat that,
+before I say them, they may be in strictest confidence between us.”
+
+“If they require secrecy, sir, they shall have it.”
+
+“Quite enough, my Lord,--amply sufficient for me is this assurance. This
+person, then, my Lord, was the old friend and brother officer of Sir
+Frank Dillon, my father-in-law. They lived as young men in closest
+friendship together; shared perils, amusements, and purse together. For
+many years nothing occurred to interrupt the relations between them,
+though frequent remonstrances from Dillon's family against the intimacy
+might possibly have caused a coolness; for the world had begun to talk
+of Fossbrooke with a certain distrust, comparing his mode of living with
+the amount of his fortune, and half hinting that his successes at play
+were more than accidental.
+
+“Still Dillon held to him; and to break the tie at last, his family
+procured an Indian appointment for him, and sent him to Calcutta.
+Fossbrooke no sooner heard of it than he sold off his town house and
+horses, and actually sailed in the same packet with him.”
+
+“Let us sit down, Colonel Sewell; I am wearied with walking, and I
+should like to hear the remainder of this story.”
+
+“I will make it very brief, my Lord. Here is a nice bench to rest on.
+Arrived in India, they commenced a style of living the most costly
+and extravagant imaginable. Their receptions, their dinners, their
+equipages, their retinues, completely eclipsed the splendors of the
+native princes. For a while these were met promptly by ready money;
+later on came bills, at first duly met, and at last dishonored. On
+investigation, however, it was found that the greater number--far the
+greater number--of the acceptances were issued by Dillon alone,--a
+circumstance which puzzled none so much as Dillon himself, who never
+remembered the emergencies that had called for them.”
+
+“They were forgeries by Fossbrooke,” said the Judge.
+
+“You are right, my Lord, they were, but so adroitly done that Dillon
+was the first to declare the signatures his own; nor was the fraud
+ever discovered. To rescue his friend, as it were, Dillon sold off
+everything, and paid, I know not what amount, and they both left for
+Ceylon, where Dillon was named Commander of the Forces.
+
+“Here Dillon married, and, on the birth of his first child, Fossbrooke
+was the godfather, their affection being stronger than ever. Once
+more the life of extravagance burst forth, and now, besides the costly
+household and reckless expenditure, the stories of play became rife and
+frequent, several young fellows being obliged to leave the service and
+sell their commissions to meet their debts. The scandal reached England,
+and Dillon was given his choice to resign or resume active service at
+his old rank. He accepted the last, and went back to India. For a
+while they were separated. My father-in-law made a brilliant campaign,
+concluding with the victory of Atteyghur. He was named Political
+Resident at the seat of government, and found himself in the receipt
+of a large revenue, and might in a few years have become wealthy and
+honored. His evil genius, however, was soon at his side. Fossbrooke
+arrived, as he said, to see him before leaving for Europe; he never left
+him till his death. From that day dated my father-in-law's inevitable
+ruin. Maladministration, corruption, forced loans on every side.
+Black-mail was imposed on all the chiefs, and a system of iniquity
+instituted that rendered the laws a farce, and the office of judge a
+degradation.
+
+“Driven almost to desperation by his approaching ruin, and yet blind to
+the cause of it, Sir Frank took service against the Affghans, and fell,
+severely wounded, at Walhalla. Fossbrooke followed him to the Hills,
+where he went to die. The infatuation of that fatal man was unbroken,
+and on his deathbed he not only confided to him all the deeds and
+documents that concerned his fortune, but gave him the guardianship
+and control of his daughter. In the very last letter he ever penned are
+these words: 'Scandal may some day or other dare to asperse him (Sir
+Brook),--the best have no immunity on that score,--but I charge you,
+however fortune may deal with you, share it with him if he need it;
+your father never had so true, so noble, so generous a friend. Have full
+courage in any course he approves of, and never distrust yourself so
+completely as when he differs from you; above all, believe no ill of
+him.'
+
+“I have seen this letter,--I have read it more than once; and with my
+full knowledge of the man, with my memory stored with stories about him,
+it was very hard to see him exercise an influence in my house, and a
+power over my wife. For a while I tried to respect what had been the
+faith of her childhood; I could not bear to destroy what formed one of
+the links that bound her to her father's memory; but the man's conduct
+obliged me to abandon this clemency. He insisted on living upon us,
+and living in a style not merely costly, but openly, flagrantly
+disreputable. Of his manner to myself I will not speak; he treated me
+not alone as a dependant, but as one whose character and fortune were in
+his hands. To what comments this exposed me in my own house I leave you
+to imagine: I remonstrated at first, but my endurance became exhausted,
+and I turned him from my house.
+
+“Then began his persecution of me,--not alone of myself, but my wife,
+and all belonging to me. I must not dwell on this, or I should forget
+myself.
+
+“We left India, hoping never to hear more of him. There was a story
+that he had gone on a visit to a Rajah in Oude, and would in all
+likelihood live there till he died. Imagine what I felt, my Lord, when
+I read his name on that visiting-card. I knew, of course, what his
+presence meant, a pretended matter of business with you,--the real
+object being to traduce and vilify me. He had ascertained the connection
+between us, and determined to turn it to profit. So long as I followed
+my career in India,--a poor soldier of fortune,--I was not worth
+persecution; but here at home, with friends, possibly with friends able
+and willing to aid me, I at once assumed importance in his eyes. He well
+knows how dear to us is the memory of my wife's father, what sacrifices
+we have made, what sacrifices we would make again, that his name should
+not be harshly dealt with by the world. He feels, too, all the power and
+weight he can yield by that letter of poor Dillon's, given so frankly,
+so trustfully, and so unfortunately on his deathbed. In one word, my
+Lord, this man has come back to Europe to exert over me the pressure
+which he once on a time used over my father-in-law. For reasons I cannot
+fathom, the great people who knew him once, and who ought to know whom
+and what he has become, are still willing to acknowledge him. It is true
+he no longer frequents their houses and mixes in their society,--but
+they recognize him. The very card he sent in this morning bore the
+Viceroy's name,--and from this cause alone, even if there were not
+others, he would be dangerous. I weary you, my Lord, and I will
+conclude. By an accidental admission he let drop that he would soon
+leave Ireland for a while; let it seem, my Lord, so long as he remains
+here, that I am less intimate here, less frequent as a visitor, than he
+has imagined. Let him have grounds to imagine that my presence here was
+a mere accident, and that I am not at all likely to enjoy any share of
+your Lordship's favor,--in fact, let him believe me as friendless here
+as he saw me in India, and he will cease to speculate on persecuting
+me.”
+
+“There would be indignity in such a course, sir,” cried the Judge,
+fiercely; “the man has no terrors for _me_.”
+
+“Certainly not, my Lord, nor for me personally. I speak on my wife's
+behalf; it is for her sake and for her peace of mind I am alone thinking
+here.”
+
+“I will speak to her myself on this head.”
+
+“I entreat you not, my Lord. I implore you never to approach the
+subject. She has for years been torn between the terrible alternative of
+obeying the last injunctions of her father or yielding to the wishes of
+her husband. Her life has been a continual struggle, and her shattered
+health has been the consequence. No, my Lord; let us go down for a few
+weeks or months--as it may be--to this country place they have taken for
+us; a little quietness will do us both good. My leave will not expire
+till March; there is still time to look about me.”
+
+“Something shall be done for you, sir,” said the Judge, pompously.
+Sewell bowed low: he knew how to make his bow a very deep acknowledgment
+of gratitude; he knew the exact measure of deference and trustfulness
+and thankfulness to throw into his expression as he bent his head, while
+he seemed too much overpowered to speak.
+
+“Yes, sir, you shall be cared for,” said the old man. “And if this
+person, this Sir Brook Fossbrooke, return here, it is with _me_ he will
+have to deal,--not _you_.”
+
+“My Lord, I entreat you never to admit him; neither see nor correspond
+with him. The man is a desperado, and holds his own life too cheap to
+care for another's.”
+
+“Sir, you only pique my curiosity to meet with him. I have heard of such
+fellows, but never saw one.”
+
+“From all I have heard, my Lord, _your_ courage requires no proofs.”
+
+“You have heard the truth, sir. It has been tested in every way, and
+found without alloy. This man came here a few days ago to ask me to
+nominate my grandson to an office in my gift; but, save a lesson for his
+temerity, he 'took nothing by his motion.'” The old Judge walked up and
+down with short impatient steps, his eyebrows moving fiercely, And his
+mouth twitching angrily. “The Viceroy must be taught that it is not
+through such negotiators he can treat with men like myself. We hear much
+about the dignity of the Bench. I would that his Excellency should know
+that the respect for it is a homage to be rendered by the highest as
+well as the lowest, and that I for one will accept of nothing less than
+all the honors that befit my station.”
+
+Relieved, as it were, by this outburst of vanity, his heart unburdened
+of a load of self-conceit, the old man felt freer And better; and in
+the sigh he heaved there seemed a something that indicated a sense of
+alleviation. Then, turning to Sewell, with a softened voice, he said,
+“How grieved I am that you should have passed such a morning! It was
+certainly not what I had intended for you.”
+
+“You are too good to me, my Lord,--far too good, and too thoughtful of
+me,” said Sewell, with emotion.
+
+“I am one of those men who must go to the grave misconstrued and
+misrepresented. He who would be firm in an age of cowardice, he who
+would be just in an age of jobbery, cannot fail to be calumniated. But,
+sir, there is a moral stature, as there is a material stature, that
+requires distance for its proportions; and it is possible posterity will
+be more just to me than my contemporaries.”
+
+“I would only hope, my Lord, that the time for such a judgment may be
+long deferred.”
+
+“You are a courtier, sir,” said the Judge, smiling. “It was amongst
+courtiers I passed my early youth, and I like them. When I was a young
+man, Colonel Sewell, it was the fashion to make the tour of Europe as a
+matter of education and good breeding. The French Court was deemed, and
+justly deemed, the first school of manners, and I firmly believe France
+herself has suffered in her forms of politeness from having ceased to
+be the centre of supply to the world. She adulterated the liquor as the
+consumers decreased in taste and increased in number.”
+
+“How neatly, how admirably expressed!” said Sewell, bowing.
+
+“I had some of that gift once,” said the old man, with a sigh; “but it
+is a weapon out of use nowadays. Epigram has its place in a museum now
+as rightfully as an Andrea Ferrara.”
+
+“I declare, my Lord, it is two o'clock. Here is your servant coming to
+announce luncheon. I am ashamed to-think what a share of your day I have
+monopolized.”
+
+“You will stay and take some mutton broth, I hope?”
+
+“No, my Lord. I never eat luncheon, and I am, besides, horrified at
+inflicting you so long already.”
+
+“Sir, if I suffer many of the miseries of old age, I avail myself of
+some of its few privileges. One of the best of these is, never to be
+bored. I am old and feeble enough to be able to say to him who wearies
+me, Leave me--leave-me to myself and my own dreariness. Had you
+'inflicted' me, as you call it, I 'd have said as much two hours ago.
+Your company was, however, most agreeable. You know how to talk, and,
+what is rarer, you know how to listen.”
+
+Sewell bowed respectfully and in silence.
+
+“I wish the school that trains aides-de-camp could be open to junior
+barristers and curates,” muttered he, half to himself; then added aloud,
+“Come and see me soon again. Come to breakfast, or, if you prefer it, to
+dinner. We dine at seven;” and without further adieu than a slight wave
+of his hand, he turned away and entered the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. SIR BROOK IN CONFUSION
+
+Tom Lendrick had just parted with his sister as Fossbrooke came up, and,
+taking his arm in silence, moved slowly down the road.
+
+Seeing his deep preoccupation, Tom did not speak for some time, but
+walked along without a word. “I hope you found my grandfather in better
+temper, sir?” asked Tom, at last.
+
+“He refused to receive me; he pleaded illness, or rather he called it
+by its true name, indisposition. He deputed another gentleman to meet
+me,--a Colonel Sewell, his stepson.”
+
+“That 's the man my father saw at the Cape; a clever sort of person he
+called him, but, I suspect, not one to his liking; too much man of the
+world,--too much man of fashion for poor Dad.”
+
+“I hope so,” muttered Fossbrooke, unconsciously.
+
+“Indeed, sir; and why?” asked Tom, eagerly.
+
+“What of Lucy?” said Sir Brook, abruptly; “how did you think she was
+looking?”
+
+“Well, sir, on the whole, well. I've seen her jollier; but, to be sure,
+it was a leave-taking to-day, and that's not the occasion to put one in
+high spirits. Poor girl, she said, 'Is it not hard, Tom? There are only
+three of us, and we must all live apart.'”
+
+“So it is,--hard, very hard. I 'd have tried once more to influence the
+old Judge if he 'd have given me a meeting. He may do worse with that
+office than bestow it on you, Tom. I believe I'd have told him as much.”
+
+“It's perhaps as well, sir, that you did not see him,” said Tom, with a
+faint smile.
+
+“Yes,” said Fossbrooke, following along the train of his own thoughts,
+and not noticing the other's remark. “He may do worse; he may give it
+to _him_, and thus draw closer the ties between them; and if _that_ man
+once gets admission there, he'll get influence.”
+
+“Of whom are you talking, sir?”
+
+“I was not speaking, Tom. I was turning over some things in my mind. By
+the way, we have much to do before evening. Go over to Hodgen's about
+those tools; he has not sent them yet: and the blasting-powder, too, has
+not come down. I ought, if I could manage the time, to test it; but it
+'s too late. I must go to the Castle for five minutes,--five minutes
+will do it; and I 'll pass by Grainger's on my way back, and buy the
+flannel--miners' flannel they call it in the advertisement. We must look
+our _métier_, Tom, eh? You told Lucy where to write, and how to address
+us, I hope?”
+
+“Yes, sir, she wrote it down. By the way, that reminds me of a letter
+she gave me for you. It was addressed to her care, and came yesterday.”
+
+The old man thrust it in his pocket without so much as a look at it.
+
+“I think the post-mark was Madeira,” said Tom, to try and excite some
+curiosity.
+
+“Possibly. I have correspondents everywhere.”
+
+“It looked like Trafford's writing, I thought.”
+
+“Indeed! let us see;” and he drew forth the letter, and broke the
+envelope. “Right enough, Tom,--it is Trafford.”
+
+He ran his eyes rapidly over the first lines, turned to the next side,
+and then to the end of the letter, and then once more began at the
+beginning.
+
+“This is his third attempt, he says, to reach me, having written twice
+without any acknowledgment; hence he has taken the liberty--and a very
+great liberty too--to address the present to the care of your sister.
+His brother died in March last, and the younger brother has now shown
+symptoms of the same malady, and has been sent out to Madeira. 'I could
+not,' he writes,--'I could not refuse to come out here with him, however
+eager I was to go to Ireland. You can well believe,'”--here the old
+man slurred over the words, and murmured inaudibly for some seconds. “I
+see,” added he at last, “he has gone back to his old regiment, with good
+hopes of the majority. 'Hinks is sick of the service, and quite willing
+to leave. Harvey, however, stands above me, and deems it a cruel thing
+to be passed over. I must have your advice about this, as well as
+about--'” Here again he dropped his voice and mumbled unintelligibly.
+At length he read on: “'What is Tom doing? What a shame it would be if a
+fellow with such abilities should not make his way!'”
+
+“A crying shame,” burst in Tom, “but I neither see the abilities nor the
+way; would he kindly indicate how to find either or both?”
+
+“'My mother suggested,'” read on Sir Brook, “'two or three things which
+my father could readily obtain, but you know the price of the promotion;
+you know what I would have to--'” Here, once more, the old man stopped
+abruptly.
+
+“Pray go on, sir,” cried Tom, eagerly; “this interests me much, and as
+it touches myself I have half a claim to hear it.”
+
+Sir Brook gave no heed to the request, but read on in silence and to
+himself. Turning to the last page, he said: “'I may then hope to be
+in England by the end of the month. I shall not go down to Holt, but
+straight to Dublin. My leave will expire on the 28th, and this will give
+me a good excuse for not going home. I am sure you will agree with me
+that I am doing the right thing.
+
+“'If I am fortunate enough to meet you in Dublin, I can ask your advice
+on many things which press for solution; but if you should have left
+Ireland and gone heaven knows where, what is to become of me?'”
+
+“Got into debt again, evidently,” said Tom, as he puffed his cigar.
+
+“Nothing of the kind. I know thoroughly what he alludes to, though I am
+not at liberty to speak of it. He wishes me to leave our address with
+Colonel Cave at the barracks, and that if we should have left Ireland
+already, he 'll try and manage a month's leave, and pay us a visit.”
+
+“I declare I guessed that!” burst out Tom. “I had a dread of it, from
+the very day we first planned our project. I said to myself, So sure as
+we settle down to work,--to work like men who have no thought but how to
+earn their bread,--some lavender-gloved fellow, with a dressing-case
+and three hat-boxes, will drop down to disgust us alike with our own
+hardships and _his_ foppery.”
+
+“He'll not come,” said Sir Brook, calmly; “and if he should, he will be
+welcome.”
+
+“Oh! as to that,” stammered out Tom, somewhat ashamed of his late
+warmth, “Trafford is perhaps the one exception to the sort of thing I am
+afraid of. He is a fine, manly, candid fellow, with no affectations nor
+any pretensions.”
+
+“A gentleman, sir,--just a gentleman, and of a very good type.”
+
+The last few lines of the letter were small and finely written, and cost
+the old man some time to decipher. At last he read them aloud. “'Am I
+asking what you would see any objection to accord me, if I entreat you
+to give me some letter of introduction or presentation to the Chief
+t Baron? I presume that you know him; and I presume that he might not
+refuse to know _me_. It is possible I may be wrong in either or both
+of these assumptions. I am sure you will be frank in your reply to
+this request of mine, and say No, if you dislike to say Yes. I made the
+acquaintance of Colonel Sewell, the Judge's step-son, at the Cape; but
+I suspect--I may be wrong--but I suspect that to be presented by
+the Colonel might not be the smoothest road to his Lordship's
+acquaintance,--I was going to write “favor,” but I have no pretension,
+as yet at least, to aspire that far.'
+
+“'The Colonel himself told me that his mother and Sir William never met
+without a quarrel. His affectionate remark was that the Chief Baron was
+the only creature in Europe whose temper was worse than Lady Lendrick's,
+and it would be a blessing to humanity if they could be induced to live
+together.
+
+“'I saw a good deal of the Se wells at the Cape. She is charming! She
+was a Dillon, and her mother a Lascelles, some forty-fifth cousin of my
+mother's,--quite enough of relationship, however, to excuse a very rapid
+intimacy, so that I dined there when I liked, and uninvited. I did not
+like _him_ so well; but then he beat me at billiards, and always won my
+money at _écarté_, and of course these are detracting ingredients which
+ought not to be thrown into the scale.
+
+“'How she sings! I don't know how you, with your rapturous love of
+music, would escape falling in love with her: all the more that she
+seems to me one who expects that sort of homage, and thinks herself
+defrauded if denied it. If the Lord Chief Baron is fond of ballads, he
+has been her captive this many a day.
+
+“'My love to Tom, if with you or within reach of you; and believe me,
+ever yours affectionately,--Lionel Trafford.'”
+
+“It was the eldest son who died,” said Tom, carelessly.
+
+“Yes, the heir. Lionel now succeeds to a splendid fortune and the
+baronetcy.”
+
+“He told me once that his father had made some sort of compact with his
+eldest son about cutting off the entail, in case he should desire to do
+it. In fact, he gave me to understand that he was n't a favorite with
+his father, and that, if by any course of events he were likely to
+succeed to the estate, it was more than probable his father would use
+this power, and merely leave him what he could not alienate,--a very
+small property that pertained to the baronetage.”
+
+“With reference to what did he make this revelation to you? What had you
+been talking of?”
+
+“I scarcely remember. I think it was about younger sons,--how hardly
+they were treated, and how unfairly.”
+
+“Great hardship truly that a man must labor! not to say that there
+is not a single career in life he can approach without bringing to it
+greater advantages than befall humbler men,--a better and more liberal
+education, superior habits as regards society, powerful friends, and
+what in a country like ours is inconceivably effective,--the prestige of
+family. I cannot endure this compassionate tone about younger sons. To
+my thinking they have the very best opening that life can offer, if they
+be men to profit by it; and if they are not, I care very little what
+becomes of them.”
+
+“I do think it hard that my elder brother should have fortune and wealth
+to over-abundance, while my pittance will scarcely keep me in cigars.”
+
+“You have no right, sir, to think of his affluence. It is not in
+the record; the necessities of your position have no-relation to his
+superfluities. Bethink you of yourself, and if cigars are too expensive
+for you, smoke cavendish. Trafford was full of this cant about the
+cruelty of primogeniture, but I would have none of it. Whenever a man
+tells me that he deems it a hardship that he should do anything for his
+livelihood, I leave him, and hope never to see more of him.”
+
+“Trafford surely did not say so.”
+
+“No,--certainly not; there would have been no correspondence between us
+if he had. But I want to see these young fellows showing the world that
+they shrink from no competitorship with any. They have long proved that
+to confront danger and meet death they are second to none. Let me show
+that in other qualities they admit of no inferiority,--that they are as
+ready for enterprise, as well able to stand cold and hunger and thirst,
+to battle with climate and disease. _I_ know well they can do it, but I
+want the world to know it.”
+
+“As to intellectual distinctions,” said Tom, “I think they are the
+equals of any. The best man in Trinity in my day was a fellow-commoner.”
+
+This speech seemed to restore the old man to his best humor. He slapped
+young Lendrick familiarly on the shoulder and said: “It would be a grand
+thing, Tom, if we could extend the application of that old French adage,
+'noblesse oblige,' and make it apply to every career in life and every
+success. Come along down this street; I want to buy some nails,--we can
+take them home with us.”
+
+They soon made their purchases; and each, armed with a considerably
+sized brown-paper parcel, issued from the shop,--the old man eagerly
+following up the late theme, and insisting on all the advantages good
+birth and blood conferred, and what a grand resource was the gentleman
+element in moments of pressure and temptation.
+
+“His Excellency wishes to speak to you, sir,” said a footman,
+respectfully standing hat in hand before him “The carriage is over the
+way.”
+
+Sir Brook nodded an assent, and then, turning to Torn, said, “Have
+the kindness to hold this for me for a moment; I will not detain you
+longer;” and placing in young Lendrick's hands a good-sized parcel, he
+stepped across the street, totally forgetting that over his left arm,
+the hand of which was in his pocket, a considerable coil of strong rope
+depended, being one of his late purchases. As he drew nigh the carriage,
+he made a sign that implied defeat; and mortified as the Viceroy was
+at the announcement, he could not help smiling at the strange guise in
+which the old man presented himself.
+
+“And how so, Fossbrooke?” asked he, in answer to the other's signal.
+
+“Simply, he would not see me, my Lord. Our first meeting had apparently
+left no very agreeable memories of me, and he scarcely cared to
+cultivate an acquaintance that opened so inauspiciously.”
+
+“But you sent him your card with my name?”
+
+“Yes; and his reply was to depute another gentleman to receive me and
+take my communication.”
+
+“Which you refused, of course, to make?”
+
+“Which I refused.”
+
+“Do you incline to suppose that the Chief Baron guessed the object of
+your visit?”
+
+“I have no means of arriving at that surmise, my Lord. His refusal of me
+was so peremptory that it left me no clew to any guess.”
+
+“Was the person deputed to receive you one with whom it was at all
+possible to indicate such an intimation of your business as might convey
+to the Chief Baron the necessity of seeing you?”
+
+“Quite the reverse, my Lord; he was one with whom, from previous
+knowledge, I could hold little converse.”
+
+“Then there is, I fear, nothing to be done.”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“Except to thank you heartily, my dear Fossbrooke, and ask you once
+more, why are you going away?”
+
+“I told you last night I was going to make a fortune. I have--to my own
+astonishment I own it--begun to feel that narrow means are occasionally
+most inconvenient; that they limit a man's action in so many ways that
+he comes at last to experience a sort of slavery; and instead of chafing
+against this, I am resolved to overcome it, and become rich.”
+
+“I hope, with all my heart, you may. There is no man whom wealth will
+more become, or who will know how to dispense it more reputably.”
+
+“Why, we have gathered a crowd around us, my Lord,” said Fossbrooke,
+looking to right and left, where now a number of people had gathered,
+attracted by the Viceroy's presence, but still more amused by the
+strange-looking figure with the hank of rope over his arm, who
+discoursed so freely with his Excellency. “This is one of the penalties
+of greatness, I take it,” continued he. “It's your Excellency's Collar
+of St. Patrick costs you these attentions--”
+
+“I rather suspect it's _your 'grand cordon_,' Fossbrooke,” said the
+Viceroy, laughing, while he pointed to the rope.
+
+“Bless my stars!” exclaimed Sir Brook, blushing deeply, “how forgetful I
+am growing! I hope you forgive me. I am sure you could not suppose--”
+
+“I could never think anything but good of you, Fossbrooke. Get in, and
+come out to 'the Lodge' to dinner.”
+
+“No, no; impossible. I am heartily ashamed of myself. I grow worse
+and worse every day; people will lose patience at last, and cut me;
+good-bye.”
+
+“Wait one moment. I want to ask you something about young Lendrick.
+Would he take an appointment in a colonial regiment? Would he--” But
+Fossbrooke had elbowed his way through the dense crowd by this time, and
+was far out of hearing,--shocked with himself, and overwhelmed with the
+thought that in his absurd forgetfulness he might have involved another
+in ridicule.
+
+“Think of me standing talking to his Excellency with this on my arm,
+Tom!” said he, flushing with shame and annoyance: “how these absent
+fits keep advancing on me! When a man begins to forget himself in this
+fashion, the time is not very distant when his friends will be glad to
+forget him. I said so this moment to Lord Wilmington, and I am afraid
+that he agreed with me. Where are the screws, Tom,--have I been
+forgetting them also?”
+
+“No, sir, I have them here; the holdfasts were not finished, but
+they will be sent over to us this evening, along with the cramps you
+ordered.”
+
+“So, then, my head was clear so far,” cried he, with a smile. “In my
+prosperous days, Tom, these freaks of mine were taken as good jokes,
+and my friends laughed at them over my Burgundy; but when a man has
+no longer Burgundy to wash down his blunders with, it is strange how
+different becomes the criticism, and how much more candid the critic.”
+
+“So that, in point of enlightenment, sir, it is better to be poor.”
+
+“It is what I was just going to observe to you,” said he, calmly. “Can
+you give me a cigar?”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE TWO LUCYS
+
+Within a week after this incident, while Fossbrooke and young Lendrick
+were ploughing the salt sea towards their destination, Lucy sat in her
+room one morning engaged in drawing. She was making a chalk copy from
+a small photograph her brother had sent her, a likeness of Sir Brook,
+taken surreptitiously as he sat smoking at a window, little heeding or
+knowing of the advantage thus taken of him.
+
+The head was considerably advanced, the brow and the eyes were nearly
+finished, and she was trying for the third time to get an expression
+into the mouth which the photograph had failed to convey, but which she
+so often observed in the original. Eagerly intent on her work, she never
+heard the door open behind her, and was slightly startled as a very
+gentle hand was laid on her shoulder.
+
+“Is this a very presumptuous step of mine, dear Lucy?” said Mrs. Sewell,
+with one of her most bewitching smiles: “have I your leave for coming in
+upon you in this fashion?”
+
+“Of course you have, my dear Mrs. Sewell; it is a great pleasure to me
+to see you here.”
+
+“And I may take off my bonnet and my shawl and my gloves and my company
+manner, as my husband calls it?”
+
+“Oh! _you_ have no company manner,” broke in Lucy.
+
+“I used to think not; but men are stern critics, darling, and especially
+when they are husbands. You will find out, one of these days, how neatly
+your liege lord will detect every little objectionable trait in
+your nature, and with what admirable frankness he will caution you
+against--yourself.”
+
+“I almost think I 'd rather he would not.”
+
+“I 'm very certain of it, Lucy,” said the other, with greater firmness
+than before. “The thing we call love in married life has an
+existence only a little beyond that of the bouquet you carried to the
+wedding-breakfast; and it would be unreasonable in a woman to expect
+it, but she might fairly ask for courtesy and respect, and you would
+be amazed how churlish even gentlemen can become about expending these
+graces in their own families.”
+
+Lucy was both shocked and astonished at what she heard, and the grave
+tone in which the words were uttered surprised her most of all.
+
+Mrs. Sewell had by this time taken off her bonnet and shawl, and,
+pushing back her luxuriant hair from her forehead, looked as though
+suffering from headache, for her brows were contracted, and the orbits
+around her eyes dark and purple-looking.
+
+“You are not quite well to-day,” said Lucy, as she sat down on the sofa
+beside her, and took her hand.
+
+“About as well as I ever am,” said she, sighing; and then, as if
+suddenly recollecting herself, added, “India makes such an inroad on
+health and strength! No buoyancy of temperament ever resisted that fatal
+climate. You would n't believe it, Lucy, but I was once famed for high
+spirits.”
+
+“I can well believe it.”
+
+“It was, however, very long ago. I was little more than a child at the
+time--that is, I was about fourteen or fifteen--when I left England, to
+which I returned in my twentieth year. I went back very soon afterwards
+to nurse my poor father, and be married.”
+
+The depth of sadness in which she spoke the last words made the silence
+that followed intensely sad and gloomy.
+
+“Yes,” said she, with a deep melancholy smile, “papa called me madcap.
+Oh dear, if our fathers and mothers could look back from that eternity
+they have gone to, and see how the traits they traced in our childhood
+have saddened and sobered down into sternest features, would they
+recognize us as their own? I don't look like a madcap now, Lucy, do
+I?” As she said this, her eyes swam in tears, and her lip trembled
+convulsively. Then standing hastily up, she drew nigh the table, and
+leaned over to look at the drawing at which Lucy had been engaged.
+
+“What!” cried she, with almost a shriek,--“what is this? Whose portrait
+is this? Tell me at once; who is it?”
+
+“A very dear friend of mine and of Tom's. One you could not have ever
+met, I'm sure.”
+
+“And how do you know whom I have met?” cried she, fiercely. “What can
+you know of my life and my associates?”
+
+“I said so, because he is one who has lived long estranged from the
+world,” said Lucy, gently; for in the sudden burst of the other's
+passion she only saw matter for deep compassion. It was but another part
+of a nature torn and distracted by unceasing anxieties.
+
+“But his name,--his name?” said Mrs. Sewell, wildly.
+
+“His name is Sir Brook Fossbrooke.”
+
+“I knew it, I knew it!” cried she, wildly,--“I knew it!” and said it
+over and over again. “Go where we will we shall find him. He haunts;
+us like a curse,--like a curse!” And it was in almost a shriek the last
+word came forth.
+
+“You cannot know the man if you say this of him,” said Lucy, firmly.
+
+“Not know him!--not know him! You will tell me next that I do not know
+myself,--not know my own name,--not know the life of bitterness I have
+lived,--the shame of it,--the ineffable shame of it!” and she threw
+herself on her face on the sofa, and sobbed convulsively. Long and
+anxiously did Lucy try all in her power to comfort and console her. She
+poured out her whole heart in pledges of sisterly love and affection.
+She assured her of a sympathy that would never desert her; and, last
+of all, she told her that her judgment of Sir Brook was a mistaken
+one,--that in the world there lived not one more true-hearted, more
+generous, or more noble.
+
+“And where did you learn all this, young woman?” said the other,
+passionately. “In what temptations and trials of your life have these
+experiences been gained? Oh, don't be angry with me, dearest Lucy;
+forgive this rude speech of mine; my head is turning, and I know not
+what I say. Tell me, child, did this man speak to you of my husband?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Nor of myself?”
+
+“Not a word. I don't believe he was aware that we were related to each
+other.”
+
+“He not aware? Why, it's his boast that he knows every one and every
+one's connections. You never heard him speak without this parade of
+universal acquaintanceship. But why did he come here? How did you happen
+to meet him?”
+
+“By the merest accident. Tom found him one day fishing the river close
+to our house, and they got to talk together; and it ended by his
+coming to us to tea. Intimacy followed very quickly, and then a close
+friendship.”
+
+“And do you mean to tell me that all this while he never alluded to us?”
+
+“Never.”
+
+“This is so unlike him,--so unlike him,” muttered she, half to herself.
+“And the last place you saw him,--where was it?”
+
+“Here in this house.”
+
+“Here! Do you mean that he came here to see you?”
+
+“No; he had some business with grandpapa, and called one morning, but
+he was not received. Grandpapa was not well, and sent Colonel Sewell to
+meet him.”
+
+“He sent my husband! And did he go?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Are you sure of that?”
+
+“I know it.”
+
+“I never heard of this,” said she, holding her hands to her temples.
+“About what time was it?”
+
+“It was on Friday last. I remember the day, because it was the last time
+I saw poor Tom.”
+
+“On Friday last,” said she, pondering. “Yes, you are right. I do
+remember that Friday;” and she drew up the sleeve of her dress, and
+looked at a dark-blue mark upon the fair white skin of her arm; but so
+hastily was the action done that Lucy did not remark it.
+
+“It was on Friday morning. It was on the forenoon of Friday, was it
+not?”
+
+“Yes. The clock struck one, I remember, as I got back to the house.”
+
+“Tell me, Lucy,” said she in a caressing tone, as she drew her arm round
+the girl's waist,--“tell me, darling, how did Colonel Sewell look after
+that interview? Did he seem angry or irritated? I'll tell you why I
+ask this some other time,--but I want to know if he seemed vexed or
+chagrined by meeting this man.”
+
+“I did not see him after; he went away almost immediately after Sir
+Brook. I heard his voice talking with grandpapa in the garden, but I
+went to my room, and we did not meet.”
+
+“As they spoke in the garden, were their voices raised? Did they talk
+like men excited or in warmth?”
+
+“Yes. Their tone and manner were what you say,--so much so that I went
+away, not to overhear them. Grandpapa, I know, was angry at something;
+and when we met at luncheon, he barely spoke to me.”
+
+“And what conclusion did you draw from all this?”
+
+“None! There was nothing to induce me to dwell on the circumstance;
+besides,” added she, with some irritation, “I am not given to reason
+upon the traits of people's manner, or their tone in speaking.”
+
+“Nor perhaps accustomed to inquire, when your grandfather is vexed, what
+it is that has irritated him.”
+
+“Certainly not. It is a liberty I should not dare to take.”
+
+“Well, darling,” said she, with a saucy laugh, “he is more fortunate in
+having _you_ for a granddaughter than me. I 'm afraid I should have less
+discretion,--at all events, less dread.”
+
+“Don't be so sure of that,” said Lucy, quietly. “Grandpapa is no
+common person. It is not his temper but his talent that one is loath to
+encounter.”
+
+“I do not suspect that either would terrify me greatly. As the soldiers
+say, Lucy, I have been under fire pretty often, and I don't mind it now.
+Do you know, child, that we have got into a most irritable tone with
+each other? Each of us is saying something that provokes a sharp reply,
+and we are actually sparring without knowing it.”
+
+“I certainly did not know it,” said Lucy, taking her hand within both
+her own, “and I ask pardon if I have said anything to hurt you.”
+
+Leaving her hand to Lucy unconsciously, and not heeding one word of what
+she had said, Mrs. Sewell sat with her eyes fixed on the floor deep in
+thought. “I 'm sure, Lucy,” said she at last, “I don't know why I asked
+you all those questions awhile ago. That man--Sir Brook, I mean--is
+nothing to me; he ought to be, but he is not. My father and he were
+friends; that is, my father thought he was his friend, and left him the
+guardianship of me on his deathbed.”
+
+“Your guardian,--Sir Brook your guardian?” cried Lucy, with intense
+eagerness.
+
+“Yes; with more power than the law, I believe, would accord to any
+guardian.” She paused and seemed lost in thought for some seconds, and
+then went on: “Colonel Sewell and he never liked each other. Sir Brook
+took little trouble to be liked by him; perhaps Dudley was as careless
+on his side. What a tiresome vein I have got in! How should _you_ care
+for all this?”
+
+“But I do care--I care for all that concerns you.”
+
+“I take it, if you were to hear Sir Brook's account, we should not make
+a more brilliant figure than himself. He 'd tell you about our mode of
+life, and high play, and the rest of it; but, child, every one plays
+high in India, every one does scores of things there they would n't
+do at home, partly because the _ennui_ of life tempts to
+anything,--anything that would relieve it; and then all are tolerant
+because all are equally--I was going to say wicked; but I don't mean
+wickedness,--I mean bored to that degree that there is no stimulant left
+without a breach of the decalogue.”
+
+“I think that might be called wickedness,” said Lucy, dryly.
+
+“Call it what you like, only take my word for it you 'd do the selfsame
+things if you lived there. I was pretty much what you are now when I
+left England; and if any naughty creature like myself were to talk, as
+I am doing to you now, and make confession of all her misdeeds and
+misfortunes, I'm certain I'd have known how to bridle up and draw away
+my hand, and retire to a far end of the sofa, and look unutterable
+pruderies, just as you do this moment.”
+
+“Without ever suspecting it, certainly,” said Lucy laughing.
+
+“Tear up that odious drawing, dear Lucy,” said she, rising and walking
+the room with impatience. “Tear it up; or, if you won't do that, let me
+write a line under it--one line, I ask for no more--so that people may
+know at whom they are looking.”
+
+“I will do neither; nor will I sit here to listen to one word against
+him.”
+
+“Which means, child, that your knowledge of life is so-much greater than
+mine, you can trust implicitly to your own judgment. I can admire your
+courage, certainly, though I am not captivated by your prudence.”
+
+“It is because I have so little faith in my own judgment that I am
+unwilling to lose the friend who can guide me.”
+
+“Perhaps it would be unsafe if I were to ask you to choose between _him_
+and me,” said Mrs. Sewell, very slowly, and with her eyes fully bent on
+Lucy.
+
+“I hope you will not.”
+
+“With such a warning I certainly shall not do so. Who-could have
+believed it was so late?” said she, hastily looking at her watch;
+“What a seductive creature you must be, child, to slip over one's whole
+morning without knowing it,--two o'clock already. You lunch about this
+time?”
+
+“Yes, punctually at two.”
+
+“Are you sufficiently lady of the house to invite me, Lucy?”
+
+“I am sure _you_ need no invitation here; you are one of us.”
+
+“What a little Jesuit it is!” said Mrs. Sewell, patting her cheek.
+“Come, child, I 'll be equal with you. I 'll enter the room on your arm,
+and say, 'Sir William, your granddaughter insisted on my remaining; I
+thought it an awkwardness, but she tells me she is the mistress here,
+and I obey.'”
+
+“And you will find he will be too well-bred to contradict you,” said
+Lucy, while a deep blush covered her face and throat.
+
+“Oh, I think him positively charming!” said Mrs. Sewell, as she arranged
+her hair before the glass; “I think him charming. My mother-in-law and
+I have a dozen pitched battles every day on the score of his temper and
+his character. _My_ theory is, the only intolerable thing on earth is
+a fool; and whether it be that Lady Lendrick suspects me of any secret
+intention to designate one still nearer to her by this reservation, I
+do not know, but the declaration drives her half crazy. Come, Lucy, we
+shall be keeping grandpapa waiting for us.”
+
+They moved down the stairs arm-in-arm, without a word; but as they
+gained the door of the dining-room, Mrs. Sewell turned fully round
+and said, in a low deep voice, “Marry anything,--rake, gambler,
+villain,--anything, the basest and the blackest; but never take a fool,
+for a fool means them all combined.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE NEST WITH STRANGE “BIRDS” IN IT
+
+To the Swan's Nest, very differently tenanted from what we saw it at
+the opening of our story, we have now to conduct our reader. Its present
+occupant--“the acquisition to any neighborhood,” as the house-agent
+styled him--was Colonel Sewell.
+
+Lady Lendrick had taken the place for her son on finding that Sir
+William would not extend his hospitality to him. She had taken the
+precaution not merely to pay a year's rent in advance, but to make a
+number of changes in the house and its dependencies, which she hoped
+might render the residence more palatable to him, and reconcile him in
+some degree to its isolation and retirement.
+
+The Colonel was, however, one of those men--they are numerous enough
+in this world--who canvass the mouth of the gift-horse, and have few
+scruples in detecting the signs of his age. He criticised the whole
+place with a most commendable frankness. It was a “pokey little hole.”
+ It was dark; it was low-ceilinged. It was full of inconveniences.
+The furniture was old-fashioned. You had to mount two steps into the
+drawing-room and go down three into the dining-room. He had to cross
+a corridor to his bath-room, and there was a great Tudor window in the
+small breakfast-parlor, that made one feel as if sitting in a lantern.
+
+As for the stables, “he would n't put a donkey into them.” No light,
+no ventilation,--no anything, in short. To live surrounded with so many
+inconveniences was the most complete assertion of his fallen condition,
+and, as he said, “he had never realized his fall in the world till he
+settled down in that miserable Nest.”
+
+There are men whose especial delight it is to call your attention to
+their impaired condition, their threadbare coat, their patched shoes,
+their shabby equipage, or their sorry dwelling, as though they were
+framing a sort of indictment against Fate, and setting forth the
+hardships of persons of merit like them being subjected to this
+unjustifiable treatment by Fortune.
+
+“I suppose you never thought to see me reduced to this,” is the burden
+of their song; and it is very strange how, by mere repetition and
+insistence, these people establish for themselves a sort of position,
+and oblige the world to yield them a black-mail of respect and
+condolence.
+
+“This was not the sort of tipple I used to set before you once on a
+time, old fellow,” will be uttered by one of whose hospitalities you
+have never partaken. “It was another guess sort of beast I gave you for
+a mount when we met last,” will be said by a man who never rose above
+a cob pony; and one is obliged to yield a kind of polite assent to such
+balderdash, or stand forward as a public prosecutor and arraign the
+rascal for a humbug.
+
+In this self-commiseration Sewell was a master, and there was not
+a corner of the house he did not make the butt of his ridicule,--to
+contrast its littleness and vulgarity with the former ways and
+belongings of his own once splendor.
+
+“You're capital fellows,” said he to a party of officers from the
+neighboring garrison, “to come and see me in this dog-hole. Try and find
+a chair you can sit on, and I 'll ask my wife if we can give you some
+dinner. You remember me up at Rangoon, Hobbes? Another guess sort of
+place, wasn't it? I had the Rajah's palace and four elephants at my
+orders. At Guzerat, too, I was the Resident, and, by Jove, I never
+dreamed of coming down to this!”
+
+Too indolent or too indifferent to care where or how she was lodged, his
+wife gave no heed to his complaints, beyond a little half-supercilious
+smile as he uttered them. “If a fellow will marry, however, he deserves
+it all,” was his usual wind-up to all his lamentations; and in this he
+seemed to console himself by the double opportunity of pitying himself
+and insulting his wife.
+
+All that Colonel Cave and his officers could say in praise of the spot,
+its beauty, its neatness, and its comfort, were only fresh aliment to
+his depreciation, and he more than half implied that possibly the place
+was quite good enough for _them_, but that was not exactly the question
+at issue.
+
+Some men go through life permitted to say scores of things for which
+their neighbor would be irrevocably cut and excluded from society.
+Either that the world is amused at their bitterness, or that it is
+regarded as a malady, far worse to him who bears than to him who
+witnesses it,--whatever the reason,--people endure these men, and make
+even a sort of vicious pets of them. Sewell was of this order, and a
+fine specimen too.
+
+All the men around him were his equals in every respect, and yet there
+was not one of them who did not accept a position of quiet, unresisting
+inferiority to him for the sake of his bad temper and his bad tongue. It
+was “his way,” they said, and they bore it.
+
+He was a consummate adept in all the details of a household; and his
+dinners were perfection, his wine good, and his servants drilled to
+the very acme of discipline. These were not mean accessories to any
+pretension; and as they sat over their claret, a pleasanter and more
+social tone succeeded than the complaining spirit of their host had at
+first promised.
+
+The talk was chiefly professional. Pipeclay will ever assert its
+pre-eminence, and with reason, for it is a grand leveller; and Digges,
+who joined three months ago, may have the Army List as well by heart
+as the oldest major in the service: and so they discussed, Where was
+Hobson? what made Jobson sell out? how did Bobson get out of that scrape
+with the paymaster? and how long will Dobson be able to live at his
+present rate in that light-cavalry corps? Everything that fell from them
+showed the most thorough intimacy with the condition, the fortune, and
+the prospects of the men they discussed,--familiarity there was enough
+of, but no friendship. No one seemed to trouble himself whether the
+sick-leave or the sell-out meant hopeless calamity,--all were dashed
+with a species of well-bred fatalism that was astonished with nothing,
+rejoiced at nothing, repined at nothing.
+
+“I wish Trafford would make up his mind!” cried one. “Three weeks ago he
+told me positively he would leave, and now I hear he offered Craycroft
+three thousand pounds to retire from the majority.”
+
+“That 's true; Craycroft told me so himself; but old Joe is a wily bird,
+and he 'll not be taken so easily.”
+
+“He's an eldest son now!” broke in another. “What does he care whether
+he be called major or captain?”
+
+“An eldest son!” cried Sewell, suddenly; “how is that? When I met him at
+the Cape, he spoke of an elder brother.”
+
+“So he had, then, but he's 'off the hooks.'”
+
+“I don't think it matters much,” said the Colonel. “The bulk of the
+property is disentailed, and Sir Hugh can leave it how he likes.”
+
+“That's what I call downright shameful,” said one; but he was the
+minority, for a number of voices exclaimed,--“And perfectly right; that
+law of primogeniture is a positive barbarism.”
+
+While the dispute waxed warm and noisy, Sewell questioned the Colonel
+closely about Trafford,--how it happened that the entail was removed,
+and why there was reason to suppose that Sir Hugh and his son were not
+on terms of friendship.
+
+Cave was frank enough when he spoke of the amount of the fortune and the
+extent of the estate, but used a careful caution in speaking of family
+matters, merely hinting that Trafford had gone very fast, spent a deal
+of money, had his debts twice paid by his father, and was now rather
+in the position of a reformed spendthrift, making a good character for
+prudence and economy.
+
+“And where is he?--not in Ireland?” asked Se well, eagerly.
+
+“No; he is to join on Monday. I got a hurried note from him this
+morning, dated Holyhead. You said you had met him?”
+
+“Yes, at the Cape; he used to come and dine with us there occasionally.”
+
+“Did you like him?”
+
+“In a way. Yes, I think he was a nice fellow,--that is, he might be made
+a nice fellow, but it was always a question into what hands he fell; he
+was at the same time pliant and obstinate. He would always imitate,--he
+would never lead. So he seemed to me; but, to tell you the truth, I left
+him a good deal to the women; he was too young and too fresh for a man
+like myself.”
+
+“You are rather hard on him,” said Cave, laughing; “but you are partly
+right. He has, however, fine qualities,--he is generous and trustful to
+any extent.”
+
+“Indeed!” said Sewell, carelessly, as he bit off the end of a cigar.
+
+“Nothing would make him swerve from his word; and if placed in a
+difficulty where a friend was involved, his own interests would be the
+last he 'd think of.”
+
+“Very fine, all that. Are you drinking claret?--if so, finish that
+decanter, and let's have a fresh bottle.”
+
+Cave declined to take more wine, and he arose, with the rest, to repair
+to the drawing-room for coffee.
+
+It was not very usual for Sewell to approach his wife or notice her in
+society; now, however, he drew a chair near her as she sat at the fire,
+and in a low whisper said, “I have some pleasant news for you.”
+
+“Indeed!” she said coldly,--“what a strange incident!”
+
+“You mean it is a strange channel for pleasant news to come through,
+perhaps,” said he, with a curl of his lip.
+
+“Possibly that is what I meant,” said she, as quietly as before.
+
+“None of these fine-lady airs with me, Madam,” said he, reddening with
+anger; “there are no two people in Europe ought to understand each other
+better than we do.”
+
+“In that I quite agree with you.”
+
+“And as such is the case, affectations are clean thrown away, Madam; we
+_can_ have no disguises for each other.”
+
+A very slight inclination of her head seemed to assent to this remark,
+but she did not speak.
+
+“We came to plain speaking many a day ago,” said he, with increased
+bitterness in his tone. “I don't see why we are to forego the advantage
+of it now,--do you?”
+
+“By no means. Speak as plainly as you wish; I am quite ready to hear
+you.”
+
+“You have managed, however, to make people observe us,” muttered he,
+between his teeth,--“it's an old trick of yours, Madam. You can play
+martyr at the shortest notice.” He rose hastily and moved to another
+part of the room, where a very noisy group were arranging a party for
+pool at billiards.
+
+“Won't you have me?” cried Sewell, in his ordinary tone. “I'm a perfect
+boon at pool; for I am the most unlucky dog in everything.”
+
+“I scarcely think you'll expect us to believe _that_,” said Cave, with a
+glance of unmistakable admiration towards Mrs. Sewell.
+
+“Ay,” cried Sewell, fiercely, and answering the unspoken
+sentiment,--“ay, sir, and _that_,”--he laid a stern emphasis on the
+word,--“and _that_ the worst luck of all.”
+
+“I 've been asking Mrs. Sewell to play a game with us, and she says she
+has no objections,” said a young subaltern, “if Colonel Sewell does not
+dislike it.”
+
+“I'll play whist, then,” said Sewell. “Who 'll make a rubber?--Cave,
+will you? Here's Houghton and Mowbray,--eh?”
+
+“No, no,” said Mowbray,--“you are all too good for me.”
+
+“How I hate that,--too good for me,” said Sewell. “Why, man, what
+better investment could you ask for your money than the benefit of good
+teaching? Always ride with the best hounds, play with the best players,
+talk with the best talkers.”
+
+“And make love to the prettiest women,” added Cave, in a whisper, as
+Mowbray followed Mrs. Sewell into the billiard-room.
+
+“I heard you, Cave,” whispered Sewell, in a still lower whisper;
+“there's devilish little escapes my ears, I promise you.” The bustle and
+preparation of the card-table served in part to cover Cave's confusion,
+but his cheek tingled and his hand shook with mingled shame and
+annoyance.
+
+Sewell saw it all, and knew how to profit by it. He liked high play,
+to which Cave generally objected; but he well knew that on the present
+occasion Cave would concur in anything to cover his momentary sense of
+shame.
+
+“Pounds and fives, I suppose,” said Sewell; and the others bowed, and
+the game began.
+
+As little did Cave like three-handed whist, but he was in no mood to
+oppose anything; for, like many men who have made an awkward speech, he
+exaggerated the meaning through his fears, and made it appear absolutely
+monstrous to himself.
+
+“Whatever you like,” was therefore his remark; and he sat down to the
+game.
+
+Sewell was a skilled player; but the race is no more to the swift in
+cards than in anything else,--he lost, and lost heavily. He undervalued
+his adversaries too, and, in consequence, he followed up his bad luck
+by increased wagers. Cave tried to moderate the ardor he displayed,
+and even remonstrated with him on the sums they were staking, which, he
+good-humoredly remarked, were far above his own pretensions; but
+Sewell resented the advice, and replied with a coarse insinuation about
+winners' counsels. The ill-luck continued, and Sewell's peevishness and
+ill-temper increased with every game. “What have I lost to you?” cried
+he, abruptly, to Cave; “it jars on my nerves every time you take out
+that cursed memorandum, so that all I can do is not to fling it into the
+fire.”
+
+“I'm sure I wish you would, or that you would let me do it,” said Cave,
+quietly.
+
+“How much is it?--not short of three hundred, I'll be bound.”
+
+“It is upwards of five hundred,” said Cave, handing the book across the
+table.
+
+“You'll have to wait for it, I promise you. You must give me time, for
+I am in all sorts of messes just now.” While Cave assured him that
+there was no question of pressing for payment,--to take his own perfect
+convenience,--Sewell, not heeding him, went on: “This confounded place
+has cost me a pot of money. My wife, too, knows how to scatter her
+five-pound notes; in short, we are a wasteful lot. Shall we have one
+rubber more, eh?”
+
+“As you like. I am at your orders.”
+
+“Let us say double or quits, then, for the whole sum.”
+
+Cave made no reply, and seemed not to know how to answer.
+
+“Of course, if you object,” said Sewell, pushing back his chair from the
+table, as though about to rise, “there's no more to be said.”
+
+“What do _you_ say, Houghton?” asked Cave.
+
+“Houghton has nothing to say to it; _he_ hasn't won twenty pounds from
+me,” said Sewell, fiercely.
+
+“Whatever you like, then,” said Cave, in a tone in which it was easy to
+see irritation was with difficulty kept under, and the game began.
+
+The game began in deep silence. The restrained temper of the players and
+the heavy sum together impressed them, and not a word was dropped. The
+cards fell upon the table with a clear, sharp sound, and the clink of
+the counters resounded through the room, the only noises there.
+
+As they played, the company from the billiard-room poured in and drew
+around the whist-table, at first noisily enough; but seeing the deep
+preoccupation of the players, their steadfast looks, their intense
+eagerness, made more striking by their silence, they gradually lowered
+their voices, and at last only spoke in whispers and rarely.
+
+The first game of the rubber had been contested trick by trick, but
+ended by Cave winning it. The second game was won by Sewell, and the
+third opened with his deal.
+
+As he dealt the cards, a murmur ran through the bystanders that
+the stake was something considerable, and the interest increased in
+consequence. A few trifling bets were laid on the issue, and one of
+the group, in a voice slightly raised above the rest, said, “I'll back
+Sewell for a pony.”
+
+“I beg you will not, sir,” said Sewell, turning fiercely round. “I'm in
+bad luck already, and I don't want to be swamped altogether. There, sir,
+your interference has made me misdeal,” cried he, passionately, as he
+flung the cards on the table.
+
+Not a word was said as Cave began his deal. It was too plain to every
+one that Sewell's temper was becoming beyond control, and that a word or
+a look might bring the gravest consequences.
+
+“What cards!” said Cave, as he spread his hand on the table: “four
+honors and nine trumps.” Sewell stared at them, moved his fingers
+through them to separate and examine them, and then, turning his head
+round, he looked behind. It was his wife was standing at the back of his
+chair, calm, pale, and collected. “By Heaven!” cried he, savagely, “I
+knew who was there as well as if I saw her. The moment Cave spread out
+his cards, I 'd have taken my oath that _she_ was standing over me.”
+
+She moved hastily away at the ruffianly speech, and a low murmur of
+indignant anger filled the room. Cave and Houghton quitted the table,
+and mingled with the others; but Sewell sat still, tearing up the
+cards one by one, with a quiet, methodical persistence that betrayed no
+passion. “There!” said he, as he threw the last fragment from him, “you
+shall never bring good or bad luck to any one more.” With the ease
+of one to whom such paroxysms were not un-frequent, he joined in the
+conversation of a group of young men, and with a familiar jocularity
+soon set them at their ease towards him; and then, drawing his arm
+within Cave's, he led him apart, and said: “I 'll go over to the Barrack
+to-morrow and breakfast with you. I have just thought of how I can
+settle this little debt.”
+
+“Oh, don't distress yourself about that,” said Cave. “I beg you will not
+let it give you a moment's uneasiness.”
+
+“Good fellow!” said Sewell, clapping him on the shoulder; “but I
+have the means of doing it without inconvenience, as I 'll show you
+to-morrow. Don't go yet; don't let your fellows go. We are going to have
+a broil, or a devilled biscuit, or something.” He walked over and rang
+the bell, and then hastily passed on into a smaller room, where his wife
+was sitting on a sofa, an old doctor of the regiment seated at her side.
+
+“I won't interrupt the consultation,” said Sewell, “but I have just one
+word to say.” He leaned over the back of the sofa, and whispered in her
+ear, “Your friend Trafford is become an eldest son. He is at the
+Bilton Hotel, Dublin; write and ask him here. Say I have some
+cock-shooting,--there are harriers in the neighborhood. Are you
+listening to me, Madam?” said he, in a harsh hissing voice, for she had
+half turned away her head, and her face had assumed an expression of
+sickened disgust. She nodded, but did not speak. “Tell him that I've
+spoken to Cave--he'll make his leave all right--that I 'll do my best
+to make the place pleasant to him, and that--in fact, I needn't toy to
+teach you to write a sweet note. You understand me, eh?”
+
+“Oh, perfectly,” said she, rising; and a livid paleness now spread over
+her face, and even her lips were bloodless.
+
+“I was too abrupt with my news. I ought to have been more considerate;
+I ought to have known it might overcome you,” said he, with a sneering
+bitterness. “Doctor, you 'll have to give Mrs. Se well some cordial,
+some restorative,--that's the name for it. She was overcome by some
+tidings I brought her. Even pleasant news will startle us occasionally.
+As the French comedy has it, _La joie fait peur_;” and with a listless,
+easy air, he sauntered away into another room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. SEWELL VISITS CAVE
+
+Punctual to his appointment, Sewell appeared at breakfast the next
+morning with Colonel Cave. Of all the ill-humor and bad conduct of the
+night before, not a trace now was to be seen. He was easy, courteous,
+and affable. He even made a half-jesting apology for his late display of
+bad temper; attributing it to an attack of coming gout. “So long as
+the malady,” said he, “is in a state of menace, one's nerves become so
+fine-strung that there is no name for the irritability; but when once a
+good honest seizure has taken place, a man recovers himself, and stands
+up to his suffering manfully and well.
+
+“To-day, for instance,” said he, pointing to a shoe divided by long
+incisions, “I have got my enemy fixed, and I let him do his worst.”
+
+The breakfast proceeded pleasantly; Cave was in admiration of his
+guest's agreeability; for he talked away, not so much of things as of
+people. He had in a high degree that-man-of-the-world gift of knowing
+something about every one. No name could turn up of which he could not
+tell you something the owner of it had said or done, and these “scratch”
+ biographies are often very amusing, particularly when struck off with
+the readiness of a practised talker.
+
+It was not, then, merely that Sewell obliterated every memory of the
+evening before, but he made Cave forget the actual object for which he
+had come that morning. Projects, besides, for future pleasure did Sewell
+throw out, like a man who had both the leisure, the means, and the taste
+for enjoyment. There was some capital shooting he had just taken; his
+neighbor, an old squire, had never cared for it, and let him have
+it “for a song.” They were going to get up hack races, too, in the
+Park,--“half-a-dozen hurdles and a double ditch to tumble over,” as he
+said, “will amuse our garrison fellows,--and my wife has some theatrical
+intentions--if you will condescend to help her.”
+
+Sewell talked with that blended munificence and shiftiness, which seems
+a specialty with a certain order of men. Nothing was too costly to be
+done, and yet everything must be accomplished with a dexterity that was
+almost a dodge. The men of this gift are great scene-painters. They dash
+you off a view--be it a wood or a rich interior, a terraced garden or an
+Alpine hut--in a few loose touches. Ay! and they “smudge” them out again
+before criticism has had time to deal with them. “By the way,” cried he,
+suddenly, stopping in the full swing of some description of a possible
+regatta, “I was half forgetting what brought me here this morning. I am
+in your debt, Cave.”
+
+He stopped as though his speech needed some rejoinder, and Cave grew
+very red and very uneasy--tried to say something--anything--but could
+not. The fact was, that, like a man who had never in all his life
+adventured on high play or risked a stake that could possibly be of
+importance to him, he felt pretty much the same amount of distress at
+having won as he would have felt at having lost. He well knew that if by
+any mischance he had incurred such a loss as a thousand pounds, it would
+have been a most serious embarrassment--by what right, then, had he won
+it? Now, although feelings of this sort were about the very last to find
+entrance into Sewell's heart, he well knew that there were men who were
+liable to them, just as there were people who were exposed to plague
+or yellow fever, and other maladies from which he lived remote. It
+was, then, with a sort of selfish delight that he saw Cave's awkward
+hesitating manner, and read the marks of the shame that was overwhelming
+him.
+
+“A heavy sum too,” said Sewell, jauntily; “we went the whole 'pot' on
+that last rubber.”
+
+“I wish I could forget it--I mean,” muttered Cave, “I wish we could both
+forget it.”
+
+“I have not the least objection to that,” said Sewell gayly; “only let
+it first be paid.”
+
+“Well, but--what I meant was--what I wanted to say, or rather, what I
+hoped--was--in plain words, Sewell,” burst he out, like a man to whom
+desperation gave courage,--“in plain words, I never intended to play
+such stakes as we played last night,--I never have--I never will again.”
+
+“Not to give me my revenge?” said Sewell, laughing.
+
+“No, not for anything. I don't know what I 'd have done--I don't know
+what would have become of me--if I had lost; and I pledge you my honor,
+I think the next worst thing is to have won.”
+
+“Do you, by George!”
+
+“I do, upon my sacred word of honor. My first thoughts on waking this
+morning were more wretched than they have been for any day in the last
+twenty years of life, for I was thoroughly ashamed of myself.”
+
+“You 'll not find many men afflicted with your malady, Cave; and, at all
+events, it's not contagious.”
+
+“I know nothing about that,” said Cave, half irritably; “I never was a
+play man, and have little pretension to understand their feelings.”
+
+“They have n't got any,” said Sewell, as he lit his cigar.
+
+“Perhaps not; so much the worse for them. I can only say, if the misery
+of losing be only proportionate to the shame of winning, I don't envy a
+gambler. Such an example, too, to exhibit to my young officers! It was
+too bad--too bad.”
+
+“I declare I don't understand this,” said Sewell, carelessly; “when I
+commanded a battalion, I never imagined I was obliged to be a model to
+the subs or the junior captains.” The tone of banter went, this time,
+to the quick; and Cave flushed a deep crimson, and said,--“I'm not sorry
+that my ideas of my duty are different; though, in the present case, I
+have failed to fulfil it.”
+
+“Well, well, there's nothing to grow angry about,” said Sewell,
+laughing, “even though you won't give me my revenge. My present business
+is to book up;” and, as he spoke, he sat down at the table, and drew a
+roll of papers from his pocket and laid it before him.
+
+“You distress me greatly by all this, Sewell,” said Cave, whose
+agitation now almost overcame him. “Cannot we hit upon some way? can't
+we let it lie over? I mean,--is there no arrangement by which this
+cursed affair can be deferred? You understand me?”
+
+“Not in the least. Such things are never deferred without loss of honor
+to the man in default. The stake that a man risks is supposed to be
+in his pocket, otherwise play becomes trade, and accepts all the
+vicissitudes of trade.”
+
+“It's the first time I ever heard them contrasted to the disparagement
+of honest industry.”
+
+“And I call billiards, tennis, whist, and écarté honest industries, too,
+though I won't call them trades. There, there,” said he, laughing at the
+other's look of displeasure, “don't be afraid; I am not going to preach
+these doctrines to your young officers, for whose morals you are so much
+concerned. Sit down here, and just listen to me for one moment.”
+
+Cave obeyed, but his face showed in every feature how reluctantly.
+
+“I see, Cave,” said Sewell, with a quiet smile,--“I see you want to do
+me a favor,--so you shall. I am obliged to own that I am an exception to
+the theory I have just now enunciated. I staked a thousand pounds, and I
+had _not_ the money in my pocket. Wait a moment,--don't interrupt me.
+I had not the money in gold or bank-notes, but I had it here”--and he
+touched the papers before him--“in a form equally solvent, only that it
+required that he who won the money should be not a mere acquaintance,
+but a friend,--a friend to whom I could speak with freedom and in
+confidence. This,” said he, “is a bond for twelve hundred pounds, given
+by my wife's guardian in satisfaction of a loan once made to him; he was
+a man of large fortune, which he squandered away recklessly, leaving
+but a small estate, which he could neither sell nor alienate. Upon this
+property this is a mortgage. As an old friend of my father-in-law,--a
+very unworthy one, by the way,--I could of course not press him for the
+interest, and, as you will see, it has never been paid; and there is now
+a balance of some hundred pounds additional against him. Of this I
+could not speak, for another reason,--we are not without the hope of
+inheriting something by him, and to allude to this matter would be
+ruinous. Keep this, then. I insist upon it. I declare to you, if you
+refuse, I will sell it to-morrow to the first moneylender I can find,
+and send you my debt in hard cash. I 've been a play-man all my life,
+but never a defaulter.”
+
+There was a tone of proud indignation in the way he spoke that awed Cave
+to silence; for in good truth he was treating of themes of which he knew
+nothing whatever: and of the sort of influences which swayed gamblers,
+of the rules that guided and the conventionalities that bound them, he
+was profoundly ignorant.
+
+“You 'll not get your money, Cave,” resumed Sewell, “till this old
+fellow dies; but you will be paid at last,--of that I can assure you.
+Indeed, if by any turn of luck I was in funds myself, I 'd like to
+redeem it. All I ask is, therefore, that you 'll not dispose of it, but
+hold it over in your own possession till the day--and I hope it may be
+an early one--it will be payable.”
+
+Cave was in no humor to dispute anything. There was no condition to
+which he would not have acceded, so heartily ashamed and abashed was
+he by the position in which he found himself. What he really would have
+liked best, would have been to refuse the bond altogether, and say,
+Pay when you like, how you like, or, better still, not at all. This of
+course was not possible, and he accepted the terms proposed to him at
+once.
+
+“It shall be all as you wish,” said he, hurriedly. “I will do everything
+you desire; only let me assure you that I would infinitely rather this
+paper remained in _your_ keeping than in _mine_. I'm a careless fellow
+about documents,” added he, trying to put the matter on the lesser
+ground of a safe custody. “Well, well, say no more; you don't wish it,
+and that's enough.”
+
+“I must be able to say,” said Sewell, gravely, “that I never lost over
+night what I had not paid the next morning; and I will even ask of you
+to corroborate me so far as this transaction goes. There were several
+of your fellows at my house last night; they saw what we played for, and
+that I was the loser. There will be--there always is--plenty of gossip
+about these things, and the first question is, 'Has he-booked up?' I'm
+sure it's not asking more than you are ready to do, to say that I paid
+my debt within twenty-four hours.”
+
+“Certainly; most willingly. I don't know that any one has a right to
+question me on the matter.”
+
+“I never said he had. I only warned you how people will talk, and how
+necessary it is to be prepared to stifle a scandal even before it has
+flared out.”
+
+“It shall be cared for. I'll do exactly as you wish,” said Cave, who
+was too much flurried to know what was asked of him, and to what he was
+pledged.
+
+“I'm glad this is off my mind,” said Sewell, with a long sigh of relief.
+“I lay awake half the night thinking of it; for there are scores of
+fellows who are not of your stamp, and who would be for submitting these
+documents to their lawyer, and asking, Heaven knows, what this affair
+related to. Now I tell you frankly, I 'd have given no explanations. He
+who gave that bond is, as I know, a consummate rascal, and has robbed
+me--that is, my wife--out of two-thirds of her fortune; but _my_ hands
+are tied regarding him. I could n't touch him, except he should try to
+take my life,--a thing, by the way, he is quite capable of. Old Dillon,
+my wife's father, believed him to be the best and truest of men, and my
+wife inherited this belief, even in the face of all the injuries he had
+worked us. She went on saying, 'My father always said, “Trust Fossy:
+there's at least one man in the world that will never deceive you.'””
+
+“What was the name you said?” asked Cave, quickly.
+
+“Oh, only a nickname. I don't want to mention his name. I have sealed up
+the bond, with this superscription,--'Colonel Sewell's bond.' I did this
+believing you would not question me farther; but if you desire to read
+it over, I 'll break the envelope at once.”
+
+“No, no; nothing of the kind. Leave it just as it is.”
+
+“So that,” said Sewell, pursuing his former line of thought, “this man
+not alone defrauded me, but he sowed dissension between me and my wife.
+Her faith is shaken in him, I have no doubt, but she 'll not confess it.
+Like a genuine woman, she will persist in asserting the convictions
+she has long ceased to be held by, and quote this stupid letter of her
+father in the face of every fact.
+
+“I ought not to have got into these things,” said Sewell, as he walked
+impatiently down the room. “These family bedevilments should be kept
+from one's friends; but the murder is out now, and you can see how
+I stand--and see besides, that if I am not always able to control my
+temper, a friend might find an excuse for me.”
+
+Cave gave a kindly nod of assent to this, not wishing, even by a word,
+to increase the painful embarrassment of the scene.
+
+“Heigh ho!” cried Sewell, throwing himself down in a chair, “there's one
+care off my heart, at least! I can remember a time when a night's bad
+luck would n't have cost me five minutes of annoyance; but nowadays
+I have got it so hot and so heavy from fortune, I begin not to know
+myself.” Then, with a sudden change of tone, he added: “When are you
+coming out to us again? Shall we say Tuesday?”
+
+“We are to be inspected on Tuesday. Trafford writes me that he is coming
+over with General Halkett,--whom, by the way, he calls a Tartar,--and
+says, 'If the Sewells are within hail, say a kind word to them on my
+part.'”
+
+“A good sort of fellow, Trafford,” said Sewell, carelessly.
+
+“An excellent fellow,--no better living!”
+
+“A very wide-awake one too,” said Sewell, with one eye closed, and a
+look of intense cunning.
+
+“I never thought so. It is, to my notion, to the want of that faculty he
+owes every embarrassment he has ever suffered. He is unsuspecting to a
+fault.”
+
+“It's not the way _I_ read him; though, perhaps, I think as well of him
+as _you_ do. I 'd say that for his years he is one of the very shrewdest
+young fellows I ever met.”
+
+“You astonish me! May I ask if you know him well?”
+
+“Our acquaintance is not of very old date, but we saw a good deal of
+each other at the Cape. We rode out frequently, dined, played, and
+conversed freely together; and the impression he made upon me was that
+every sharp lesson the world had given him he 'd pay back one day or
+other with a compound interest.”
+
+“I hope not,--I fervently hope not!” cried Cave. “I had rather hear
+to-morrow that he had been duped and cheated out of half his fortune
+than learn he had done one act that savored of the--the--” He stopped,
+unable to finish, for he could not hit upon the word that might be
+strong enough for his meaning, and yet not imply an offence.
+
+“Say blackleg. Is n't that what you want? There's my wife's pony chaise.
+I 'll get a seat back to the Nest. Goodbye, Cave. If Wednesday is open,
+give it to us, and tell Trafford I'd be glad to see him.”
+
+Cave sat down as the door closed after the other, and tried to recall
+his thoughts to something like order. What manner of man was that who
+had just left him? It was evidently a very mixed nature. Was it the good
+or the evil that predominated? Was the unscrupulous tone he displayed
+the result of a spirit of tolerance, or was it the easy indifference of
+one who trusted nothing,--believed nothing?
+
+Was it possible his estimate of Trafford could be correct? and
+could this seemingly generous and open manner cover a nature cold,
+calculating, and treacherous? No, no. _That_ he felt to be totally out
+of the question.
+
+He thought long and intently over the matter, but to no end; and as he
+arose to deposit the papers left by Sewell in his writing-desk, he felt
+as unsettled and undecided as when he started on the inquiry.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE RACES ON THE LAWN
+
+A bright October morning, with a blue sky and a slight, very slight
+feeling of frost in the air, and a gay meeting on foot and horseback on
+the lawn before the Swan's Nest, made as pretty a picture as a painter
+of such scenes could desire. I say of such scenes, because in the
+_tableau de genre_ it is the realistic element that must predominate,
+and the artist's skill is employed in imparting to very commonplace
+people and costumes whatever poetry can be lent them by light and shade,
+by happy groupings, and, more than all these, by the insinuation of
+some incident in which they are the actors,--a sort of storied interest
+pervading the whole canvas, which gives immense pleasure to those who
+have little taste for the fine arts.
+
+There was plenty of color even in the landscape. The mountains had put
+on their autumn suit, and displayed every tint from a pale opal to
+a deep and gorgeous purple, while the river ran on in those circling
+eddies which come to the surface of water under sunshine as naturally as
+smiles to the face of flattered beauty.
+
+Colonel Sewell had invited the country-side to witness hack-races in his
+grounds, and the country-side had heartily responded to the invitation.
+There were the county magnates in grand equipages,--an earl with
+two postilions and outriders, a high sheriff with all his official
+splendors, squires of lower degree in more composite vehicles, and a
+large array of jaunting-cars, through all of which figured the red coats
+of the neighboring garrison, adding to the scene that tint of warmth in
+color so dear to the painter's heart.
+
+The wonderful beauty of the spot, combining, as it did, heath-clad
+mountain, and wood, and winding river, with a spreading lake in the
+distance, dotted with picturesque islands, was well seconded by
+a glorious autumnal day,--one of those days when the very air has
+something of champagne in its exhilarating quality, and gives to every
+breath of it a sense of stimulation.
+
+The first three races--they were on the flat--had gone off admirably.
+They were well contested, well ridden, and the “right horse” the winner.
+All was contentment, therefore, on every side, to which the interval of
+a pleasant moment of conviviality gave hearty assistance, for now came
+the hour of luncheon; and from the “swells” in the great marquée, and
+the favored intimates in the dining-room, to the assembled unknown in
+the jaunting-cars, merry laughter issued, with clattering of plates
+and popping of corks, and those commingled sounds of banter and jollity
+which mark such gatherings.
+
+The great event of the day was, however, yet to come off. It was a
+hurdle race, to which two stiff fences were to be added, in the shape
+of double ditches, to test the hunting powers of the horses. The hurdles
+were to be four feet eight in height, so that the course was by no means
+a despicable one, even to good cross-country riders. To give increased
+interest to the race, Sewell himself was to ride, and no small share
+of eagerness existed amongst the neighboring gentry to see how the
+new-comer would distinguish himself in the saddle,--some opining he
+was too long of leg; some, that he was too heavy; some, that men of his
+age--he was over five-and-thirty--begin to lose nerve; and many going
+so far as to imply “that he did not look like riding,”--a judgment whose
+vagueness detracts nothing from its force.
+
+“There he goes now, and he sits well down too!” cried one, as a group
+of horsemen swept past, one of whom, mounted on a “sharp” pony, led
+the way, a white macintosh and loose overalls covering him from head to
+foot. They were off to see that the fences were all being properly put
+up, and in an instant were out of sight.
+
+“I'll back Tom Westenra against Sewell for a twenty-pound note,” cried
+one, standing up on the seat of his car to proclaim the challenge.
+
+“I'll go further,” shouted another,--“I 'll do it for fifty.”
+
+“I 'll beat you both,” cried out a third,--“I 'll take Tom even against
+the field.”
+
+The object of all this enthusiasm was a smart, cleanshaven little
+fellow, with a good blue eye, and a pleasant countenance, who smoked his
+cigar on the seat of a drag near, and nodded a friendly recognition to
+their confidence.
+
+“If Joe Slater was well of his fall, I 'd rather have him than any one
+in the county,” said an old farmer, true to a man of his own class and
+standing.
+
+“Here's one can beat them both!” shouted another; “here's Mr. Creagh of
+Liskmakerry!” and a thin, ruddy-faced, keen-eyed man of about fifty
+rode by on a low-sized horse, with that especial look of decision in his
+mouth, and a peculiar puckering about the corners that seem to belong to
+those who traffic in horse-flesh, and who, it would appear, however much
+they may know about horses, understand humanity more thoroughly still.
+
+“Are you going to ride, Creagh?” cried a friend from a high tax-cart.
+
+“Maybe so, if the fences are not too big for me;” and a very malicious
+drollery twinkled in his gray eye.
+
+“Faix, and if they are,” said a farmer, “the rest may stay at home.”
+
+“I hope you 'll ride, Creagh,” said the first speaker, “and not let
+these English fellows take the shine out of us. Yourself and Tom are the
+only county names on the card.”
+
+“Show it to me,” said Creagh, listlessly; and he took the printed list
+in his hand and conned it over, as though it had all been new to him.
+“They 're all soldiers, I see,” said he. “It's Major This, and Captain
+That--Who is the lady?” This question was rapidly called forth by a
+horsewoman who rode past at an easy canter in the midst of a group of
+men. She was dressed in a light-gray habit and hat of the same color,
+from which a long white feather encircling the hat hung on one side.
+
+“That's Mrs. Sewell,--what do you think of her riding?”
+
+“If her husband has as neat a hand, I 'd rather he was out of the
+course. She knows well what she 's about.”
+
+“They say there's not her equal in the park in London.”
+
+“That's not park riding; that's something very different, take my word
+for it. She could lead half the men here across the country.”
+
+Nor was she unworthy of the praise, as, with her hand low, her head a
+little forward, but her back well curved in, she sat firmly down in her
+saddle; giving to the action of the horse that amount of movement that
+assisted the animal, but never more. The horse was mettlesome enough to
+require all her attention. It was his first day under a sidesaddle, and
+he chafed at it, and when the heavy skirt smote his flank, bounded with
+a lunge and a stroke of his head that showed anger.
+
+“That's a four-hundred guinea beast she 's on. He belongs to the tall
+young fellow that's riding on her left.”
+
+“I like his own horse better,--the liver-chestnut with the short legs. I
+wish I had a loan of him for the hurdle-race.”
+
+“Ask him, Phil; or get the mistress there to ask him,” said another,
+laughing. “I 'm mighty mistaken or he wouldn't refuse her.”
+
+“Oh, is that it?” said Creagh, with a knowing look.
+
+“So they tell me here, for I don't know one of them myself; but the
+story goes that she was to have married that young fellow when Sewell
+earned her off.”
+
+“I must go and get a better look at her,” said Creagh, as he spurred his
+horse and cantered away.
+
+“Is any one betting?” said little Westenra, as he descended from his
+seat on the drag. “I have not seen a man to-day with five pounds on the
+race.”
+
+“Here's Sewell,” muttered another; “he's coming up now, and will give or
+take as much as you like.”
+
+“Did you see Mrs. Sewell, any of you?” asked Sewell, cavalierly, as he
+rode up with an open telegram in his hand; and as the persons addressed
+were for the most part his equals, none responded to the insolent
+demand.
+
+“Could you tell me, sir,” said Sewell, quickly altering his tone, while
+he touched his hat to Westenra, “if Mrs. Sewell passed this way?”
+
+“I haven't the honor to know Mrs. Sewell, but I saw a lady ride past,
+about ten minutes ago, on a black thoroughbred.”
+
+“Faix, and well she rode him too,” broke in an old farmer.
+
+“She took the posy out of that young gentleman's button-hole, while her
+beast was jumping, and stuck it in her breast, as easy as I 'm sitting
+here.”
+
+Sewel's face grew purple as he darted a look of savage anger at the
+speaker, and, turning his horse's head, he dashed out at speed and
+disappeared.
+
+“Peter Delaney,” said Westenra, “I thought you had more discretion than
+to tell such a story as that.”
+
+“Begorra, Mister Tom! I didn't know the mischief I was making till I saw
+the look he gave me!”
+
+It was not till after a considerable search that Sewell came up with
+his wife's party, who were sauntering leisurely along the river-side,
+through a gorse-covered slope.
+
+“I 've had a devil of a hunt after you!” he cried, as he rode up, and
+the ringing tone of his voice was enough to intimate to her in what
+temper he spoke. “I 've something to say to you,” said he, as though
+meant for her private ear; and the others drew back, and suffered them
+to ride on together. “There 's a telegram just come from that old beast
+the Chief Baron; he desires to see me to-night. The last train leaves
+at five, and I shall only hit it by going at once. Can't you keep your
+horse quiet, Madam, or must you show off while I 'm speaking to you?”
+
+“It was the furze that stung him,” said she, coldly, and not showing the
+slightest resentment at his tone.
+
+“If the old bear means anything short of dying, and leaving me his heir,
+this message is a shameful swindle.”
+
+“Do you mean to go?” asked she, coldly.
+
+“I suppose so; that is,” added he, with a bitter grin, “if I can tear
+myself away from _you_;” but she only smiled.
+
+“I 'll have to pay a forfeit in this match,” continued he, “and my book
+will be all smashed, besides. I say,” cried he, “would Trafford ride for
+me?”
+
+“Perhaps he would.”
+
+“None of your mock indifference, Madam. I can't afford to lose a
+thousand pounds every time you have a whim. Ay, look astonished if you
+like! but if you had n't gone into the billiard-room on Saturday evening
+and spoiled my match, I 'd have escaped that infernal whist-table.
+Listen to me now! Tell him that I have been sent for suddenly,--it might
+be too great a risk for me to refuse to go,--and ask him to ride
+Crescy; if he says Yes,--and he will say yes if you ask him as you
+_ought_,”--her cheek grew crimson as he uttered the last word with a
+strong emphasis,--“tell him to take up my book. Mind you use the words
+'take up;' _he'll_ understand you.”
+
+“But why not say all this yourself?--he 's riding close behind at this
+minute.”
+
+“Because I have a wife, Madam, who can do it so much better; because I
+have a wife who plucks a carnation out of a man's coat, and wears it in
+her bosom, and this on an open race-course, where people can talk of it!
+and a woman with such rare tact ought to be of service to her husband,
+eh?” She swayed to and fro in her saddle for an instant as though about
+to fall, but she grasped the horn with both hands and saved herself.
+
+“Is that all?” muttered she, faintly.
+
+“Not quite. Tell Trafford to come round to my dressing-room, and I 'll
+give him a hint or two about the horse. He must come at once, for I have
+only time to change my clothes and start. You can make some excuse
+to the people for my absence; say that the old Judge has had another
+attack, and I only wish it may be true. Tell them I got a telegram, and
+_that_ may mean anything. Trafford will help you to do the honors, and
+I 'll swear him in as viceroy before I go. Is n't that all that could
+be asked of me?” The insolence of his look as he said this made her turn
+away her head as though sickened and disgusted.
+
+“They want you at the weighing-stand, Colonel Sewell,” said a gentleman,
+riding up.
+
+“Oh, they do! Well, say, please, that I 'm coming. Has he given you that
+black horse?” asked he, in a hurried whisper.
+
+“No; he offered him, but I refused.”
+
+“You had no right to refuse; he's strong enough to carry _me_; and the
+ponies that I saw led round to the stable-yard, whose are they?”
+
+“They are Captain Trafford's.”
+
+“You told him you thought them handsome, I suppose, didn't you?”
+
+“Yes, I think them very beautiful.”
+
+“Well, don't take them as a present. Win them if you like at piquet or
+écarté,--any way you please, but don't take them as a gift, for I heard
+Westenra say they were meant for you.”
+
+She nodded; and as she bent her head, a smile, the very strangest,
+crossed her features. If it were not that the pervading expression of
+her face was at the instant melancholy, the look she gave him would have
+been almost devilish.
+
+“I have something else to say, but I can't remember it.”
+
+“You don't know when you'll be back?” asked she, carelessly.
+
+“Of course not,--how can I? I can only promise that I'll not arrive
+unexpectedly, Madam; and I take it that's as much as any gentleman can
+be called on to say. Bye-bye.”
+
+“Good-bye,” said she, in the same tone.
+
+“I see that Mr. Balfour is here. I can't tell who asked him; but mind
+you don't invite him to luncheon; take no notice of him whatever;
+he'll not bet a guinea; never plays; never risks anything,--even his
+_affections!_”
+
+“What a creature!”
+
+“Isn't he! There! I'll not detain you from pleasanter company; good-bye;
+see you here when I come back, I suppose?”
+
+“Most probably,” said she, with a smile; and away he rode, at a tearing
+gallop, for his watch warned him that he was driven to the last minute.
+
+“My husband has been sent for to town, Captain Traf-ford,” said she,
+turning her head towards him as he resumed his place at her side; “the
+Chief Baron desires to see him immediately, and he sets off at once.”
+
+“And his race? What 's to become of his match?”
+
+“He said I was to ask you to ride for him.”
+
+“Me--I ride! Why, I am two stone heavier than he is.”
+
+“I suppose he knew that,” said she, coldly, and as if the matter was
+one of complete indifference to her. “I am only delivering a message,”
+ continued she, in the same careless tone; “he said, 'Ask Captain
+Trafford to ride for me and take up my book; 'I was to be particular
+about the phrase 'take up;' I conclude you will know what meaning to
+attach to it.”
+
+“I suspect I do,” said he, with a low soft laugh.
+
+“And I was to add something about hints he was to give you, if you 'd
+go round to his dressing-room at once; indeed, I believe you have little
+time to spare.”
+
+“Yes, I'll go,--I 'll go now; only there 's one thing I 'd like to
+ask--that is--I'd be very glad to know--”
+
+“What is it?” said she, after a pause, in which his confusion seemed to
+increase with every minute.
+
+“I mean, I should like to know whether you wished me to ride this race
+or not?”
+
+“Whether _I_ wished it?” said she, in a tone of astonishment.
+
+“Well, whether you cared about the matter one way or other?” replied he,
+in still deeper embarrassment.
+
+“How could it concern me, my dear Captain Trafford?” said she, with an
+easy smile; “a race never interests me much, and I 'd just as soon see
+Blue and Orange come in as Yellow and Black; but you 'll be late if you
+intend to see my husband; I think you 'd better make haste.”
+
+“So I will, and I 'll be back immediately,” said he, not sorry to escape
+a scene where his confusion was now making him miserable.
+
+“You _are_ a very nice horse!” said she, patting the animal's neck, as
+he chafed to dash off after the other. “I 'd like very much to own you;
+that is, if I ever was to call anything my own.”
+
+“They 're clearing the course, Mrs. Sewell,” said one of her companions,
+riding up; “we had better turn off this way, and ride down to the
+stand.”
+
+“Here's a go!” cried another, coming up at speed. “Big Trafford is going
+to ride Crescy; he 's well-nigh fourteen stone.”
+
+“Not thirteen: I 'll lay a tenner on it.”
+
+“He can ride a bit,” said a third.
+
+“I 'd rather he 'd ride his own horse than mine.”
+
+“Sewell knows what he 's about, depend on 't.”
+
+“That's his wife,” whispered another; “I'm certain she heard you.”
+
+Mrs. Sewell turned her head as she cantered along, and, in the strange
+smile her features wore, seemed to confirm the speaker's words; but the
+hurry and bustle of the moment drowned all sense of embarrassment, and
+the group dashed onward to the stand.
+
+Leaving that heaving, panting, surging tide of humanity for an instant,
+let us turn to the house, where Sewell was already engaged in preparing
+for the road.
+
+“You are going to ride for me, Trafford?” said Sewell, as the other
+entered his dressing-room, where, with the aid of his servant, he was
+busily packing up for the road.
+
+“I 'm not sure; that is, I don't like to refuse, and I don't see how to
+accept.”
+
+“My wife has told you; I 'm sent for hurriedly.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well?” said he, looking round at him from his task.
+
+“Just as I have told you already; I 'd ride for you as well as a heavy
+fellow could take a light-weight's place, but I don't understand about
+your book--am I to stand your engagements?”
+
+“You mean, are you to win all the money I'm sure to pocket on the
+match?”
+
+“No, I don't mean that,” said he, laughing; “I never thought of trading
+on another man's brains; I simply meant, am I to be responsible for the
+losses?”
+
+“If you ride Crescy as you ought to ride him, you needn't fret about the
+losses?”
+
+“But suppose that I do not--and the case is a very possible one--that,
+not knowing your horse--”
+
+“Take this portmanteau down, Bob, and the carpet-bag; I shall only lose
+my train,” said Sewell, with a gesture of hot impatience; and as the
+servant left the room, he added: “Pray don't think any more about this
+stupid race; scratch Crescy, and tell my wife that it was a change of
+mind on “my” part,--that I did not wish you to ride; good-bye;” and he
+waved a hasty adieu with his hand, as though to dismiss him at once.
+
+“If you 'll let me ride for you, I 'll do my best,” blundered out
+Trafford; “when I spoke of your engagements, it was only to prepare you
+for what perhaps you were not aware of, that I 'm not very well off just
+now, and that if anything like a heavy sum--”
+
+“You are a most cautious fellow; I only wonder how you ever did get into
+a difficulty; but I 'm not the man to lead you astray, and wreck such
+splendid principles; adieu!”
+
+“I 'll ride, let it end how it may!” said Trafiford, angrily, and left
+the room at once, and hurried downstairs.
+
+Sewell gave a parting look at himself in the glass; and as he set his
+hat jauntily on one side, said, “There 's nothing like a little mock
+indignation to bully fellows of _his_ stamp; the keynote of their
+natures is the dread of being thought mean, and particularly of being
+thought mean by a woman.” He laughed pleasantly at this conceit, and
+went on his way.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. SEWELL ARRIVES IN DUBLIN
+
+It was late at night when Sewell reached town. An accidental delay to
+the train deferred the arrival for upwards of an hour after the usual
+time; and when he reached the Priory, the house was all closed for the
+night, and not a light to be seen.
+
+He knocked, however, and rang boldly; and after a brief delay, and
+considerable noise of unbolting and unbarring, was admitted. “We gave
+you up, sir, after twelve o'clock,” said the butler, half reproachfully,
+“and his Lordship ordered the servants to bed. Miss Lendrick, however,
+is in her drawing-room still.”
+
+“Is there anything to eat, my good friend? That is what I stand most in
+need of just now.”
+
+“There's a cold rib of beef, sir, and a grouse pie; but if you 'd like
+something hot, I 'll call the cook.”
+
+“No, no, never mind the cook; you can give me some sherry, I 'm sure?”
+
+“Any wine you please, sir. We have excellent Madeira, which ain't to be
+had everywhere nowadays.”
+
+“Madeira be it, then; and order a fire in my room. I take it you have a
+room for me?”
+
+“Yes, sir, all is ready; the bath was hot about an hour ago, and I 'll
+have it refreshed in a minute.”
+
+“Now for the grouse pie. By the way, Fenton, what is the matter with his
+Lordship? He was n't ill, was he, when he sent off that despatch to me?”
+
+“No, sir; he was in court to-day, and he dined at the Castle, and was in
+excellent spirits before he went out.”
+
+“Has anything gone wrong, then, that he wanted me up so hurriedly?”
+
+“Well, sir, it ain't so easy to say, his Lordship excites himself so
+readily; and mayhap he had words with some of the judges,--mayhap with
+his Excellency, for they 're always at him about resigning, little
+knowing that if they 'd only let him alone he 'd go of himself, but if
+they press him he 'll stay on these twenty years.”
+
+“I don't suspect he has got so many as twenty years before him.”
+
+“If he wants to live, sir, he 'll do it. Ah, you may laugh, sir, but I
+have known him all my life, and I never saw the man like him to do the
+thing he wishes to do.”
+
+“Cut me some of that beef, Fenton, and fetch me some draught beer. How
+these old tyrants make slaves of their servants,” said he, aloud, as the
+man left the room,--“a slavery that enthralls mind as well as body.”
+ A gentle tap came to the door, and before Sewell could question the
+summons, Miss Lendrick entered. She greeted him cordially, and said how
+anxiously her grandfather had waited for him till midnight. “I don't
+know when I saw him so eager or so impatient,” she said.
+
+“Have you any clew to his reason for sending for me?” said he, as he
+continued to eat, and assumed an air of perfect unconcern.
+
+“None whatever. He came into my room about two o'clock, and told me to
+write his message in a good bold hand; he seemed in his usual health,
+and his manner displayed nothing extraordinary. He questioned me about
+the time it would take to transmit the message from the town to your
+house, and seemed satisfied when I said about half an hour.”
+
+“It's just as likely, perhaps, to be some caprice,--some passing fancy.”
+
+She shook her head dissentingly, but made no reply.
+
+“I believe the theory of this house is, 'he can do no wrong,'” said
+Sewell, with a laugh.
+
+“He is so much more able in mind than all around him, such a theory
+might prevail; but I 'll not go so far as to say that it does.”
+
+“It's not his mind gives him his pre-eminence, Miss Lucy,--it's his
+temper; it's that same strong will that overcomes weaker natures by dint
+of sheer force. The people who assert their own way in life are not the
+most intellectual, they are only the best bullies.”
+
+“You know very little of grandpapa, Colonel Sewell, that's clear.”
+
+“Are you so sure of that?” asked he, with a dubious-smile.
+
+“I _am_ sure of it, or in speaking of him you would never have used such
+a word as bully.”
+
+“You mistake me,--mistake me altogether, young lady. I spoke of a class
+of people who employ certain defects of temper to supply the place of
+certain gifts of intellect; and if your grandfather, who has no occasion
+for it, chooses to take a weapon out of their armory, the worse taste
+his.”
+
+Lucy turned fiercely round, her face flushed, and her lip trembling.
+An angry reply darted through her mind, but she repressed it by a great
+effort, and in a faint voice she said, “I hope you left Mrs. Sewell
+well?”
+
+“Yes, perfectly well, amusing herself vastly. When I saw her last, she
+had about half a dozen young fellows cantering on either side of her,
+saying, doubtless, all those pleasant things that you ladies like to
+hear.”
+
+Lucy shrugged her shoulders, without answering.
+
+“Telling you,” continued he, in the same strain, “that if you are
+unmarried you are angels, and that if married you are angels and martyrs
+too; and it is really a subject that requires investigation, how
+the best of wives is not averse to hearing her husband does not half
+estimate her. Don't toss your head so impatiently, my dear Miss Lucy; I
+am giving you the wise precepts of a very thoughtful life.”
+
+“I had hoped, Colonel Sewell, that a very thoughtful life might have
+brought forth pleasanter reflections.” “No, that is precisely what it
+does not do. To live as long as I have, is to arrive at a point when all
+the shams have been seen through, and the world exhibits itself pretty
+much as a stage during a day rehearsal.”
+
+“Well, sir, I am too young to profit by such experiences, and I will
+wish you a very good-night,--that is, if I can give no orders for
+anything you wish.”
+
+“I have had everything. I will finish this Madeira--to your health--and
+hope to meet you in the morning, as beautiful and as trustful as I see
+you now,--_felice notte_.” He bowed as he opened the door for her to
+pass out, and she went, with a slight bend of the head and a faint
+smile, and left him.
+
+“How I could make you beat your wings against your cage, for all your
+bravery, if I had only three days here, and cared to do it,” said he, as
+he poured the rest of the wine into his glass. “How weary I could make
+you of this old house and its old owner. Within one month--one short
+month--I 'd have you repeating as wise saws every sneer and every
+sarcasm that you just now took fire at. And if I am to pass three days
+in this dreary old dungeon, I don't see how I could do better. What can
+he possibly want with me?” All the imaginable contingencies he could
+conjure up now passed before his mind. That the old man was sick
+of solitude, and wanted him to come and live with them; that he was
+desirous of adopting one of the children, and which of them? then,
+that he had held some correspondence with Fossbrooke, and wanted some
+explanations,--a bitter pang, that racked and tortured him while he
+revolved it; and, last of all, he came back to his first guess,--it was
+about his will he had sent for him. He had been struck by the beauty
+of the children, and asked their names and ages twice or thrice over;
+doubtless he was bent on making some provision for them. “I wish I could
+tell him that I'd rather have ten thousand down, than thrice the sum
+settled on Reginald and the girls. I wish I could explain to him that
+mine is a ready-money business, and that cash is the secret of success;
+and I wish I could show him that no profits will stand the reverses of
+loans raised at two hundred per cent! I wonder how the match went off
+to-day; I'd like to have the odds that there were three men down at
+the double rail and bank.” Who got first over the brook, was his next
+speculation, and where was Trafford? “If he punished Crescy, I think I
+could tell _that_,” muttered he, with a grin of malice. “I only wish I
+was there to see it;” and in the delight this thought afforded he tossed
+off his last glass of wine, and rang for his bedroom candle.
+
+“At what time shall I call you, sir?” asked the butler.
+
+“When are you stirring here,--I mean, at what hour does Sir William
+breakfast?”
+
+“He breakfasts at eight, sir, during term; but he does not expect to see
+any one but Miss Lucy so early.”
+
+“I should think not. Call me at eleven, then, and bring me some coffee
+and a glass of rum when you come. Do you mean to tell me,” said he, in a
+somewhat stern tone, “that the Chief Baron gets up at seven o'clock?”
+
+“In term-time, sir, he does every day.”
+
+“Egad! I 'm well pleased that I have not a seat on the Bench. I 'd not
+be Lord Chancellor at that price.”
+
+“It 's very hard on the servants, sir,--very hard indeed.”
+
+“I suppose it is,” said Sewell, with a treacherous twinkle of the eye.
+
+“If it was n't that I'm expecting the usher's place in the Court, I 'd
+have resigned long ago.”
+
+“His Lordship's pleasant temper, however, makes up for everything,
+Fenton, eh?”
+
+“Yes, sir, that's true;” and they both laughed heartily at the pleasant
+conceit; and in this merry humor they went their several ways to bed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+
+Sewell was awoke from a sound and heavy sleep by the Chief Baron's valet
+asking if it was his pleasure to see his Lordship before he went down to
+Court, in which case there was not much time to be lost.
+
+“How soon does he go?” asked Sewell, curtly.
+
+“He likes to be on the Bench by eleven exactly, sir, and he has always
+some business in Chamber first.”
+
+“All that tells me nothing, my good friend. How much time have I now to
+catch him in before he starts?”
+
+“Half an hour, sir. Forty minutes, at most.”
+
+“Well, I 'll try and do it. Say I 'm in my bath, and that I 'll be with
+him immediately.”
+
+The man was not well out of the room when Sewell burst out into a
+torrent of abuse of the old Judge and his ways: “His inordinate vanity,
+his consummate conceit, to imagine that any activity of an old worn-out
+intellect like his could be of service to the public! If he knew but
+all, he is just as useful in his nightcap as in his wig, and it would
+be fully as dignified to sleep in his bed as in the Court of Exchequer.”
+ While he poured forth this invective, he dressed himself with all
+possible haste; indeed his ill-temper stimulated his alacrity, and he
+very soon issued from his room, trying to compose his features into a
+semblance of pleasure on meeting with his host.
+
+“I hope and trust I have not disturbed you unreasonably,” said the
+Judge, rising from the breakfast-table, as Sewell entered. “I know you
+arrived very late, and I 'd have given you a longer sleep if it were in
+my power.”
+
+“An old soldier, my Lord, knows how to manage with very little. I am
+only sorry if I have kept you waiting.”
+
+“No man ever presumed to keep me waiting, sir. It is a slight I have yet
+to experience.”
+
+“I mean, my Lord, it would have grieved me much had I occasioned you an
+inconvenience.”
+
+“If you had, sir, it might have reacted injuriously upon yourself.”
+
+Sewell bowed submissively, for what he knew not; but he surmised that
+as there was an opening for regret, there might also be a reason for
+gratitude; he waited to see if he were right.
+
+“My telegram only told you that I wanted you; it could not say for
+what,” continued the Judge; and his voice still retained the metallic
+ring the late irritation had lent it.
+
+“There has been a contested question between the Crown and myself as to
+the patronage to an office in my Court. I have carried my point. They
+have yielded. They would have me believe that they have submitted out
+of deference to myself personally, my age, and long services. I know
+better, sir. They have taken the opinion of the Solicitor-General in
+England, who, with no flattering opinion of what is called 'Irish law,'
+has pronounced against them. The gift of the office rests with me, and
+it is my intention to confer it upon _you_.”
+
+“Oh, my Lord, I have no words to express my gratitude!”
+
+“Very well, sir, it shall be assumed to have been expressed. The salary
+is one thousand a year. The duties are almost nominal.”
+
+“I was going to ask, my Lord, whether my education and habits are such
+as would enable me to discharge these duties?”
+
+“I respect your conscientious scruple, sir. It is creditable and
+commendable. Your mind may, however, be at ease. Your immediate
+predecessor passed the last thirteen years at Tours, in France, and
+there was never a complaint of official irregularity till, three
+years ago, when he came over to afford his substitute a brief leave of
+absence, he forgot to sign his name to certain documents,--a mistake the
+less pardonable that his signature formed his whole and sole official
+drudgery.”
+
+It was on Sewell's lips to say, “that if _he_ had not signed his name a
+little too frequently in life, his difficulties would not have been such
+as they now were.”
+
+“I am afraid I did not catch what you said, sir,” said the Judge.
+
+“I did not speak, my Lord,” replied he, bowing.
+
+“You will see, therefore, sir, that the details of your official life
+need not deter you, although I have little doubt the Ministerial
+press will comment sharply upon your absence, if you give them the
+opportunity, and will reflect severely upon your unfitness, if they can
+detect a flaw in you. Is there anything, therefore, in your former life
+to which these writers can refer--I will not say disparagingly--but
+unpleasantly?”
+
+“I am not aware, my Lord, of anything.”
+
+“Of course, sir, I could not mean what might impugn your honor or
+affect your fame. I spoke simply of what soldiers are, perhaps,
+more exposed to than civilians,--the lighter scandals of society. You
+apprehend me?”
+
+“I do, my Lord; and, I repeat that I have a very easy conscience on
+this score: for though I have filled some rather responsible stations at
+times, and been intrusted with high functions, all my tastes and habits
+have been so domestic and quiet--I have been so much more a man of home
+than a man of pleasure--that I have escaped even the common passing
+criticisms bestowed on people who are before the world.”
+
+“Is this man--this Sir Brook Fossbrooke--one likely to occasion you any
+trouble?”
+
+“In the first place, my Lord, he is out of the country, not very likely
+to return to it; and secondly, it is not in his power--not in any man 's
+power--to make me a subject for attack.”
+
+“You are fortunate, sir; more fortunate than men who have served their
+country longer. It will scarcely be denied that I have contributed to
+the public service, and yet, sir, _I_ have been arraigned before the
+bar of that insensate jury they call Public Opinion, and it is only in
+denying the jurisdiction I have deferred the award.”
+
+Sewell responded to the vainglorious outburst by a look of admiring
+wonder, and the Judge smiled a gracious acceptance of the tribute. “I
+gather, therefore, sir, that you can accept this place without fear of
+what scandal or malignity may assail you by--”
+
+“Yes, my Lord, I can say as much with confidence.”
+
+“It is necessary, sir, that I should be satisfied on this-head. The very
+essence of the struggle between the Crown and myself is in the fact
+that _my_ responsibility is pledged, _my_ reputation is in bond for the
+integrity and the efficiency of this officer, and I will not leave to
+some future biographer of the Irish Chief Barons of the Exchequer the
+task of apology for one who was certainly not the least eminent of the
+line.”
+
+“Your Lordship's high character shall not suffer through me,” said
+Sewell, bowing respectfully.
+
+“The matter, then, is so far settled; perhaps, however, you would like
+to consult your wife? She might be averse to your leaving the army.”
+
+“No, my Lord. She wishes--she has long wished it. We are both domestic
+in our tastes, and we have always-been looking to the time when we could
+live more for each other, and devote ourselves to the education of our
+children.”'
+
+“Commendable and praiseworthy,” said the Judge, with a half grunt,
+as though he had heard something of this-same domesticity and
+home-happiness, but that his own experiences scarcely corroborated the
+report. “There are-certain steps you will have to take before leaving
+the service; it may, then, be better to defer your public nomination to
+this post till they be taken?”
+
+This, which was said in question, Sewell answered at once, saying,
+“There need be no delay on this score, my Lord; by this day week I shall
+be free.”
+
+“On this day week, then, you shall be duly sworn in. Now, there is
+another point--I throw it out simply as a suggestion--you will not
+receive it as more if you are indisposed to it. It may be some time
+before you can find a suitable house or be fully satisfied where to
+settle down. There is ample room here; one entire wing is unoccupied.
+May I beg to place it at your disposal?”
+
+“Oh, my Lord, this is really too much kindness. You overwhelm me with
+obligations. I have never heard of such generosity.”
+
+“Sir, it is not all generosity,--I reckon much on the value of your
+society. Your companionable qualities are gifts I would secure by a
+'retainer.'”
+
+“In your society, my Lord, the benefits would be all on my side.”
+
+“There was a time, sir,--I may say it without boastful-ness,--men
+thought me an agreeable companion. The three Chiefs, as we were called
+from our separate Courts, were reputed to be able talkers. I am the sole
+survivor; and it would be a gain to those who care to look back on the
+really great days of Ireland, if some record should remain of a time
+when there were giants in the land. I have myself some very curious
+materials--masses of letters and such-like--which we may turn over some
+winter's evening together.”
+
+Sewell professed his delight at such a prospect; and the Judge
+then, suddenly bethinking himself of the hour,--it was already nigh
+eleven,--arose. “Can I set you down anywhere? Are you for town?” asked
+he.
+
+“Yes, my Lord; I was about to pay my mother a visit.”
+
+“I 'll drop you there; perhaps you would convey a message from me,
+and say how grateful I should feel if she would give us her company at
+dinner,--say seven o'clock. I will just step up to say good-bye to my
+granddaughter, and be with you immediately.”
+
+Sewell had not time to bethink him of all the strange events which a few
+minutes had grouped around him, when the Chief Baron appeared, and they
+set out.
+
+As they drove along, their converse was most agreeable. Sewell's
+attentive manner was an admirable stimulant, and the old Judge was
+actually sorry to lose his companion, as the carriage stopped at Lady
+Lendrick's door.
+
+“What on earth brought you up, Dudley?” said she, as he entered the room
+where she sat at breakfast.
+
+“Let me have something to eat, and I 'll tell you,” said he, seating
+himself at table, and drawing towards him a dish of cutlets. “You may
+imagine what an appetite I have when I tell you whose guest I am.”
+
+“Whose?”
+
+“Your husband's.”
+
+“You! at the Priory! and how came that to pass?”
+
+“I told you already I must eat before I talk. When I got downstairs this
+morning, I found the old man just finishing his breakfast, and instead
+of asking me to join him, he entertained me with the siege of Derry, and
+some choice anecdotes of Lord Bristol and 'the Volunteers.' This coffee
+is cold.”
+
+“Ring, and they 'll bring you some.”
+
+“If I am to take him as a type of Irish hospitality as well as Irish
+agreeability, I must say I get rid of two delusions together.”
+
+“There 's the coffee. Will you have eggs?”
+
+“Yes, and a rasher along with them. You can afford to be liberal with
+the larder, mother, for I bring you an invitation to dine.”
+
+“At the Priory?”
+
+“Yes; he said seven o'clock.”
+
+“Who dines there?”
+
+“Himself and his granddaughter and I make the company, I believe.”
+
+“Then I shall not go. I never do go when there 's not a party.”
+
+“He's safer, I suppose, before people?”
+
+“Just so. I could not trust to his temper under the temptation of a
+family circle. But what Drought you to town?”
+
+“He sent for me by telegraph; just, too, when I had the whole county
+with me, and was booked to ride a match I had made with immense trouble.
+I got his message,--'Come up immediately.' There was not the slightest
+reason for haste, nor for the telegraph at all. The whole could have
+been done by letter, and replied to at leisure, besides--”
+
+“What was it, then?”
+
+“It is a place he has given me,--a Registrarship of something in his
+Court, that he has been fighting the Castle people about for eighteen
+years, and to which Heaven knows if he has the right of appointment this
+minute.”
+
+“What'sit worth?”
+
+“A thousand a year net. There were pickings,--at least, the last man
+made a good thing of them,--but there are to be no more. We are
+to inaugurate, as the newspapers say, a reign of integrity and
+incorruptibility.”
+
+“So much the better.”
+
+“So much the worse,” say I. “My motto is, Full batta and plenty of loot;
+and it's every man's motto, only that every man is not honest enough to
+own it.”
+
+“And when are you to enter upon the duties of your office?”
+
+“Immediately. I 'm to be sworn in--there's an oath, it seems--this day
+week, and we 're to take up our abode at the Priory till we find a house
+to suit us.”
+
+“At the Priory?”
+
+“Yes. May I light a cigarette, mother: only one? He gave the invitation
+most royally. A whole wing is to be at our disposal. He said nothing
+about the cook or the wine-cellar, and these are the very ingredients I
+want to secure.”
+
+She shook her head dubiously, but made no answer.
+
+“You don't think, then, that he meant to have us as his guests?”
+
+“I think it unlikely.”
+
+“How shall I find out? It's quite certain I 'll not go live under his
+roof--which means his surveillance--without an adequate compensation. I
+'ll only consent to being bored by being fed.”
+
+“House-rent is something, however.”
+
+“Yes, mother, but not everything. That old man would be inquiring who
+dined with me, how late he stayed, who came to supper, and what they did
+afterwards. Now, if he take the whole charge of us, I 'll put up with a
+great deal, because I could manage a little '_pied à terre_' somewhere
+about Kingstown or Dalkey, and 'carry on' pleasantly enough. You
+must find out his intentions, mother, before I commit myself to an
+acceptance. You must, indeed.”
+
+“Take my advice, Dudley, and look out for a house at once. You 'll not
+be in _his_ three weeks.”
+
+“I can submit to a great deal when it suits me, mother,” said he, with a
+derisive smile, and a look of intense treachery at the same time.
+
+“I suppose you can,” said she, nodding in assent. “How is she?”
+
+“As usual,” said he, with a shrug of the shoulders.
+
+“And the children?”
+
+“They are quite well. By the way, before I forget it, don't let the
+Judge know that I have already sent in my papers to sell out. I want him
+to believe that I do so now in consequence of his offer.”
+
+“It is not likely we shall soon meet, and I may not have an opportunity
+of mentioning the matter.”
+
+“You 'll come to dinner to-day, won't you?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“You ought, even out of gratitude on _my_ account. It would be only
+commonly decent to thank him.”
+
+“I could n't.”
+
+“Couldn't what? Couldn't come, or couldn't thank him?”
+
+“Could n't do either. You don't know, Dudley, that whenever our
+intercourse rises above the common passing courtesies of mere
+acquaintanceship, it is certain to end in a quarrel. We must never
+condemn or approve. We must never venture upon an opinion, lest it lead
+to a discussion, for discussion means a fight.”
+
+“Pleasant, certainly,--pleasant and amiable too!”
+
+“It would be better, perhaps, that I had some of that happy disposition
+of my son,” said she, with a cutting tone, “and could submit to whatever
+suited me.”
+
+He started as if he had seen something, and turning on her a look of
+passionate anger, began: “Is it from _you_ that this should come?” Then
+suddenly recollecting himself, he subdued his tone, and said: “We 'll
+not do better by losing our tempers. Can you put me in the way to raise
+a little money? I shall have the payment for my commission in about a
+fortnight; but I want a couple of hundred pounds at once.”
+
+“It's not two months since you raised five hundred.”
+
+“I know it, and there 's the last of it. I left Lucy ten sovereigns
+when I came away, and this twenty pounds is all that I now have in the
+world.”
+
+“And all these fine dinners and grand entertainments that I have been
+told of,--what was the meaning of them?”
+
+“They were what the railway people call 'preliminary expenses,' mother.
+Before one can get fellows to come to a house where there is play, there
+must be a sort of easy style of good living established that all men
+like: excellent dinners and good wine are the tame elephants, and
+without them you 'll not get the wild ones into your 'compounds.'”
+
+“And to tell me that this could pay!”
+
+“Ay, and pay splendidly. If I had three thousand pounds in the world to
+carry on with, I 'd see the old Judge and his rotten place at Jericho
+before I 'd accept it. One needs a little capital, that's all. It's
+just like blockade-running,--you must be able to lose three for one you
+succeed with.”
+
+“I see nothing but ruin--disreputable ruin--in such a course.”
+
+“Come down and look at it, mother, and you 'll change your mind. You
+'ll own you never saw a better ordered society in your life,--the _beau
+idéal_ of a nice country-house on a small scale. I admit our _chef_ is
+not a Frenchman, and I have only one fellow out of livery; but the thing
+is well done, I promise you. As for any serious play, you 'll never
+hear of it--never suspect it--no more than a man turning over Leech's
+sketches in a dentist's drawing-room suspects there's a fellow getting
+his eye-tooth extracted in the next room.”
+
+“I disapprove of it all, Dudley. It is sure to end ill.”
+
+“For that matter, mother, so shall I! All I have asked from Fate this
+many a year is a deferred sentence; a long day, my Lord,--a long day!”
+
+“Tell Sir William I am sorry I can't dine at the Priory to-day. It is
+one of my cruel headache-days. Say you found me looking very poorly.
+It puts him in good-humor to hear it; and if you can get away in the
+evening, come in to tea.”
+
+“You will think of this loan I want,--won't you?”
+
+“I 'll think of it, but I don't know what good thinking will do.” She
+paused, and after a few minutes' silence, said, “If you really are
+serious about taking up your abode at the Priory, you 'll have to get
+rid of the granddaughter.”
+
+“We could marry her off easily enough.”
+
+“You might, and you mightn't. If she marry to Sir William's
+satisfaction, he'll leave her all he has in the world.”
+
+“Egad, he must have a rare taste in a son-in-law if he likes the fellow
+I 'll promote to the place.”
+
+“You seem to forget, Dudley, that the young lady has a will of her own.
+She's a Lendrick too.”
+
+“With all my heart, mother. She 'll not be a match for Lucy.”
+
+“And would _she_--”
+
+“Ay, would she,” interrupted he, “if her pride as a woman--if her
+jealousy was touched. I have made her do more than that when I wounded
+her self-love!”
+
+“You are a very amiable husband, I must say.”
+
+“We might be better, perhaps, mother; but I suspect we are pretty much
+like our neighbors. And it's positive you won't come to dinner?”
+
+“No! certainly not.”
+
+“Well, I 'll try and look in at tea-time. You 'll not forget what I
+spoke of. I shall be in funds in less than three weeks.”
+
+She gave a little incredulous laugh as she said “Goodbye!” She had heard
+of such pledges before, and knew well what faith to attach to them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. EVENING AT THE PRIORY
+
+The Chief Baron brought his friend Haire back from Court to dine with
+him. The table had been laid for five, and it was only when Sewell
+entered the drawing-room that it was known Lady Lendrick had declined
+the invitation. Sir William heard the apology to the end; he even waited
+when Sewell concluded, to see if he desired to add anything more, but
+nothing came.
+
+“In that case,” said he, at length, “we 'll order dinner.” That his
+irritation was extreme needed no close observation to detect, and the
+bell-rope came down with the pull by which he summoned the servant.
+
+The dinner proceeded drearily enough. None liked to adventure on a
+remark which might lead to something unpleasant in discussion, and
+little was spoken on any side. Sewell praised the mutton, and the
+Chief Baron bowed stiffly. When Haire remarked that the pale sherry was
+excellent, he dryly told the butler to “fill Mr. Haire's glass;” and
+though Lucy, with more caution, was silent, she did not escape, for he
+turned towards her and said, “We have not been favored with a word
+from your lips, Miss Lendrick; I hope these neuralgic headaches are not
+becoming a family affection.”
+
+“I am perfectly well, sir,” said she, with a smile.
+
+“It is Haire's fault, then,” said the Judge, with one of his malicious
+twinkles of the eye,--“all Haire's fault if we are dull. It is ever so
+with wits, Colonel Sewell; they will not perform to empty benches.”
+
+“I don't know whom you call a wit,” began Haire.
+
+“My dear friend, the men of pleasantry and happy conceits must no more
+deny the reputation that attaches to them than must a rich merchant
+dishonor his bill; nor need a man resent more being called a Wit, than
+being styled a Poet, a Painter, a Chief Baron, or”--here he waved his
+hand towards Sewell, and bowing slightly, added--“a Chief Registrar to
+the Court of Exchequer.”
+
+“Oh, have you got the appointment?” said Haire to the Colonel. “I am
+heartily glad of it. I 'm delighted to know it has been given to one of
+the family.”
+
+“As I said awhile ago,” said the Judge, with a smile of deeper malice,
+“these witty fellows spare nobody! At the very moment he praises the
+sherry he disparages the host. Why should not this place be filled by
+one of my family, Haire? I call upon you to show cause.”
+
+“There's no reason against it. I never said there was. Nay, I was far
+from satisfied with you on the day you refused my prayer on behalf of
+one belonging to you.”
+
+“Sir, you are travelling out of the record,” said the Judge, angrily.
+
+“I can only say,” added Haire, “that I wish Colonel Sewell joy with all
+my heart; and if he 'll allow me, I 'll do it in a bumper.”
+
+“'A reason fair to drink his health again!' That 's not the line. How
+does it go, Lucy? Don't you remember the verse?”
+
+“No, sir; I never heard it.”
+
+“'A reason fair,--a reason fair.' I declare I believe the newspapers are
+right. I am losing my memory. One of the scurrilous rascals t'other day
+said they saw no reason Justice should be deaf as well as blind. Haire,
+was that yours?”
+
+“A thousand a year,” muttered Haire to Sewell.
+
+“What is that, Haire?” cried the old Judge. “Do I hear you aright? You
+utter one thousand things just as good every year?”
+
+“I was speaking of the Registrar's salary,” said Haire, half testily.
+
+“A thousand a year is a pittance,--a mere pittance, sir, in a country
+like England. It is like the place at a window to see a procession. You
+may gaze on the passing tide of humanity, but must not dare to mix in
+it.”
+
+“And yet papa went half across the globe for it,” said Lucy, with a
+flushed and burning cheek.
+
+“In your father's profession the rewards are less money, Lucy, than the
+esteem and regard of society. I have ever thought it wise of our rulers
+not to bestow titles on physicians, but to leave them the unobtrusive
+and undistinguished comforters of every class and condition. The equal
+of any,--the companion of all.”
+
+It was evident that the old Judge was eager for discussion on anything.
+He had tried in vain to provoke each of his guests, and he was almost
+irritable at the deference accorded him.
+
+“Do I see you pass the decanter, Colonel Sewell? Are you not drinking
+any wine?”
+
+“No, my Lord.”
+
+“Perhaps you like coffee? Don't you think, Lucy, you could give him
+some?”
+
+“Yes, sir. I shall be delighted.”
+
+“Very well. Haire and I will finish this magnum, and then join you in
+the drawing-room.”
+
+Lucy took Sewells arm and retired. They were scarcely well out of the
+room when Sewell halted suddenly, and in a voice so artificial that, if
+Lucy had been given to suspectfulness, she would have detected at
+once, said, “Is the Judge always as pleasant and as witty as we saw him
+today?”
+
+“To-day he was very far from himself; something, I 'm sure, must have
+irritated him, for he was not in his usual mood.”
+
+“I confess I thought him charming; so full of neat reply, pleasant
+apropos, and happy quotation.”
+
+“He very often has days of all that you have just said, and I am
+delighted with them.”
+
+“What an immense gain to a young girl--of course, I mean one whose
+education and tastes have fitted her for it--to be the companion of such
+a mind as his! Who is this Mr. Haire?”
+
+“A very old friend. I believe he was a schoolfellow of grandpapa's.”
+
+“Not his equal, I suspect, in ability or knowledge.”
+
+“Oh, nothing like it; a most worthy man, respected by every one, and
+devotedly attached to grandpapa, but not clever.”
+
+“The Chief, I remarked, called him witty,” said Sewell with a faint
+twinkle in his eye.
+
+“It was done in jest. He is fond of fathering on him the smart sayings
+of the day, and watching his attempts to disown them.”
+
+“And Haire likes that?”
+
+“I believe he likes grandpapa in every mood he has.”
+
+“What an invaluable friend! I wish to Heaven he could find such another
+for me. I want--there 's nothing I want more than some one who would
+always approve of me.”
+
+“Perhaps you might push this fidelity further than grandpapa does,” said
+she, with a smile.
+
+“You mean that it might not always be so easy to applaud _me_.”
+
+She only laughed, and made no effort to disclaim the assertion.
+
+“Well,” said he, with a sigh, “who knows but if I live to be old and
+rich I may be fortunate enough to have such an accommodating friend?
+Who are the other 'intimates' here? I ask because we are going to be
+domesticated also.”
+
+“I heard so this morning.”
+
+“I hope with pleasure, though you have n't said as much.”
+
+“With pleasure, certainly; but with more misgiving than pleasure.”
+
+“Pray explain this.”
+
+“Simply that the very quiet life we lead here would not be endurable by
+people who like the world, and whom the world likes. We never see any
+one, we never go out, we-have not even those second-hand glances at
+society that people have who admit gossiping acquaintances; in fact,
+regard what you have witnessed to-day as a dinner-party, and then
+fashion for yourself our ordinary life.”
+
+“And do _you_ like it?”
+
+“I know nothing else, and I am tolerably happy. If papa and Tom were
+here, I should be perfectly happy.”
+
+“By Jove! you startle me,” said he, throwing away the unlighted cigar
+he had held for some minutes in his fingers; “I did n't know it was so
+bad.”
+
+“It is possible he may relax for you and Mrs. Sewell; indeed, I think it
+more than likely that he will.”
+
+“Ay, but the relaxation might only be in favor of a few more like that
+old gent we had to-day. No, no; the thing will never work. I see it at
+once. My mother said we could not possibly stand it three weeks, and I
+perceive it is your opinion too.”
+
+“I did not say so much,” said she, smiling.
+
+“Joking apart,” said he, in a tone that assuredly bespoke sincerity, “I
+could n't stand such a dinner as we had to-day very often. I can bear
+being bullied, for I was brought up to it. I served on Rolffe's staff in
+Bombay for four years, and when a man has been an aide-de-camp he knows
+what being bullied means; but what I could not endure is that outpouring
+of conceit mingled with rotten recollections. Another evening of it
+would kill me.”
+
+“I certainly would not advise your coming here at that price,” said she,
+with a gravity almost comical.
+
+“The difficulty is how to get off. He appears to me to resent as an
+affront everything that differs from his own views.”
+
+“He is not accustomed to much contradiction.”
+
+“Not to any at all!”
+
+The energy with which he said this made her laugh heartily, and he half
+smiled at the situation himself.
+
+“They are coming upstairs,” said she; “will you ring for tea?--the bell
+is beside you.”
+
+“Oh, if they 're coming I 'm off. I promised my mother a short visit
+this evening. Make my excuses if I am asked for;” and with this he
+slipped from the room and went his way.
+
+“Where's the Colonel, Lucy? Has he gone to bed?”
+
+“No, sir, he has gone to see his mother; he had made some engagement to
+visit her this evening.”
+
+“This new school of politeness is too liberal for my taste. When we were
+young men, Haire, we would not have ventured to leave the house where we
+had dined without saluting the host.”
+
+“I take it we must keep up with the spirit of our time.” “You mistake,
+Haire,--it is the spirit of our time is in arrear. It is that same
+spirit lagging behind, and deserting the post it once occupied, makes
+us seem in default. Let us have the cribbage-board, Lucy. Haire has said
+all the smart things he means to give us this evening, and I will take
+my revenge at the only game at which I am his master. Haire, who reads
+men like a book, Lucy,” continued the Chief, as he dealt the cards,
+“says that our gallant friend will rebel against our humdrum life here.
+I demur to the opinion,--what say you?” But he was now deep in his game,
+and never heeded the answer.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. SEWELL'S TROUBLES
+
+“A letter for you by the post, sir, and his Lordship's compliments to
+say he is waiting breakfast,” were the first words which Sewell heard
+the next morning.
+
+“Waiting breakfast! Tell him not to wait,--I mean, make my respects to
+his Lordship, and say I feel very poorly to-day,--that I think I 'll not
+get up just yet.”
+
+“Would you like to see Dr. Beattie, sir? He's in the drawing-room.”
+
+“Nothing of the kind. It's a complaint I caught in India; I manage it
+myself. Bring me up some coffee and rum in about an hour, and mind,
+don't disturb me on any account till then. What an infernal house!”
+ muttered he, as the man withdrew. “A subaltern called up for morning
+parade has a better life than this. Nine o'clock only! What can this old
+ass mean by this pretended activity? Upon whom can it impose? Who will
+believe that it signifies a rush whether he lay abed till noon or rose
+by daybreak?” A gentle tap came to the door, but as he made no reply
+there came after a pause another, a little louder. Sewell still
+preserved silence, and at last the sound of retiring footsteps along the
+corridor. “Not if I know it,” muttered he to himself, as he turned round
+and fell off asleep again.
+
+“The coffee, sir, and a despatch; shall I sign the receipt for you?”
+ said the servant, as he reappeared about noon.
+
+“Yes; open the window a little, and leave me.”
+
+Leaning on his arm, he tore open the envelope and glanced at the
+signature,--“Lucy.” He then read, “Send down Eccles or Beattie by next
+train; he is worse.” He read and re-read this at least half-a-dozen
+times over before he bethought him of the letter that lay still unopened
+on the bed.
+
+He now broke the seal; it was also from his wife, dated the preceding
+evening, and very brief:--
+
+“Dear Dudley,--Captain Trafford has had a severe fall. Crescy balked
+at the brook and fell afterwards. Trafford was struck on the head as he
+rose by Mr. Creagh's horse. It is feared the skull is fractured. You
+are much blamed for having asked him to ride a horse so much under his
+weight. All have refused to accept their bets but Kinshela the grocer.
+I have written to Sir H. Trafford, and I telegraphed to him Dr. Tobin's
+opinion, which is not favorable. I suppose you will come back at once;
+if not, telegraph what you advise to be done. Mr. Balfour is here still,
+but I do not find he is of much use. The veterinary decided Crescy
+should be shot, as the plate-bone, I think he called it, was
+fractured; and as he was in great pain, I consented. I hope I have done
+right.--Yours truly,
+
+“Lucy Sewell.”
+
+“Here's a go! a horse I refused four hundred and fifty for on Tuesday
+last! I _am_ a lucky dog, there 's no denying it. I did n't know there
+was a man in Europe could have made that horse balk his fence. What
+a rumpus to make about a fellow getting a 'cropper'! My share of the
+disaster is a deuced deal the worst. I 'll never chance on such a horse
+again. How am I to find either of these men?” muttered he, as he took up
+the telegram. He rang the bell violently, and scarcely ceased to pull at
+it till the servant entered.
+
+“Where does Dr. Eccles live?”
+
+“Sir Gilbert, sir?”
+
+“Ay, if he be Sir Gilbert.”
+
+“Merrion Square, sir,” said the man reproachfully, for he thought it
+rather hard to ignore one of the great celebrities of the land.
+
+“Take this note to him, that I 'll write now, and if he be from home go
+to the other man,--what's his name?--Beattie.”
+
+“Dr. Beattie is coming to dinner to-day, sir,” said the servant,
+thinking to facilitate matters.
+
+“Just do as I tell you, my good fellow, and don't interrupt. If I am to
+take up my quarters here, you'll all of you have to change some of
+your present habits.” As he spoke, he dashed off a few hasty lines,
+addressing them to Sir Gilbert Eccles or Dr. Beattie. “Ask if it's 'all
+right;' that will be sufficient reply; and now send me my bath.” As he
+proceeded with his dressing,--a very lengthy affair it always was,--he
+canvassed with himself whether or not he ought to take the train and
+go down to the country with the doctor. Possibly few men in such
+circumstances would have given the matter a doubt. The poor fellow who
+had incurred the mishap had been, at his insistence, acting for him. Had
+it not been for Se well's pressing this task upon him, Trafford would
+at that moment have been hale and hearty. Sewell knew all this well; he
+read the event just as nineteen out of every twenty would have read
+it, but having done so, he proceeded to satisfy himself why all these
+reasonings should give way to weightier considerations.
+
+First of all, it would not be quite convenient to let the old Judge know
+anything of these doings in the country. His strait-laced notions might
+revolt at races and betting-rings. It might not be perhaps decorous that
+a registrar of a high court should be the patron of such sports. These
+were prudential reasons, which he dilated on for some time. Then came
+some, others more sentimental. It was to a house of doctors and nurses
+and gloom and sorrow he should go back. All these were to him peculiarly
+distasteful. He should be tremendously “bored” by it all, and being
+“bored” was to him whatever was least tolerable in life. It was strange
+that there was one other reason stronger than all these,--a reason that
+really touched him in what was the nearest thing in his nature to heart.
+He couldn't go back and look at the empty loose-box where his favorite
+horse once stood, and where he was never to stand more. Crescy the
+animal he was so proud of,--the horse he counted on for who knows what
+future triumphs,--the first steeplechase horse, he felt convinced, in
+Ireland, if not in the kingdom,--such strength, such power in the loins,
+such square joints, such courage, should he ever see united again? If
+there was anything in that man's nature that represented affection, he
+had it for this horse. He knew well to what advantage he looked when on
+his back,--he knew what admiration and envy it drew upon him to see
+him thus mounted. He had won him at billiards from a man who was half
+broken-hearted at parting with him, and who offered immense terms rather
+than lose him.
+
+“He said I'd have no luck with him,” muttered Sewell, now in his
+misery,--“and, confound the fellow! he was right. No, I can't go back to
+look at his empty stall. It would half kill me.”
+
+It was very real grief, all this; he was as thoroughly heart-sore as it
+was possible for him to be. He sorrowed for what nothing in his future
+life could replace to him; and this is a very deep sorrow.
+
+Trafford's misfortune was so much the origin and cause of his own
+disaster that he actually thought of him with bitterness. The man who
+could make Crescy balk! What fate could be too hard for him?
+
+Nor was he quite easy in his mind about that passage in his wife's
+letter stating that men would not take their bets. Was this meant as
+reflecting upon him? Was it a censure on him for making Trafford ride
+a horse beneath his weight? “They get up some stupid cry of that sort,”
+ muttered he, “as if I am not the heaviest loser of all. I lost a horse
+that was worth a score of Traffords.”
+
+When dressed, Sewell went down to the garden and lit his cigar. His
+sorrow had grown calmer, and he began to think that in the new life
+before him he should have had to give up horses and sport of every kind.
+“I must make my book now on this old fellow, and get him to make me his
+heir. He cares little for his son, and he can be made to care just as
+little for his granddaughter. That's the only game open to me,--a dreary
+life it promises to be, but it's better than a jail.”
+
+The great large wilderness of a garden, stretching away into an orchard
+at the end, was in itself a place to suggest sombre thoughts,--so
+silent and forsaken did it all appear. The fruit lay thick on the ground
+uncared for; the artichokes, grown to the height of shrubs, looked
+monsters of uncouthness; and even in the alleys flower-seeds had fallen
+and given birth to flowers, which struggled up through the gravel and
+hung their bright petals over the footway. There was in the neglect, the
+silence, the un-cared-for luxuriance of the place, all that could make
+a moody man moodier; and as he knocked off the great heads of the tall
+hollyhocks, he thought, and even said aloud, “This is about as much
+amusement as such a spot offers.”
+
+“Oh no, not so bad as that,” said a laughing voice; and Lucy peeped over
+a laurel-hedge with a rake in her hand, and seemed immensely amused at
+his discomfiture.
+
+[Illustration: 302]
+
+“Where are you?--I mean, how is one to come near you?” said he, trying
+to laugh, but not successfully.
+
+“Go round yonder by the fish-pond, and you 'll find a wicket. This is
+_my_ garden, and I till it myself.”
+
+“So!” said he, entering a neat little enclosure, with beds of flowers
+and flowering shrubs, “this is your garden?”
+
+“Yes,--what do you think of it?”
+
+“It's very pretty,--it 's very nice. I should like it larger, perhaps.”
+
+“So would I; but, being my own gardener, I find it quite big enough.”
+
+“Why doesn't the Chief give you a gardener?--he's rich enough, surely.”
+
+“He never cared for gardening himself. Indeed, I think it is the wild
+confusion of foliage here that he likes. He said to me one day, 'In _my_
+old garden a man loses himself in thought. In this trimly kept place one
+is ever occupied by the melon-frame or the forcing-house.'”
+
+“That's the dreadful thing about old people; they are ever for making
+the whims and crotchets of age the rules of life to others. I wonder you
+bear this so well.”
+
+“I didn't know that I bore anything,” said she, with a smile.
+
+“That's true slave doctrine, I must say; and when one does not feel
+bondage, there's no more to be said.”
+
+“I suspect I have a great deal more freedom than most girls; my time is
+almost all my own, to dispose of as I will. I read, or play, or walk,
+or work, as I feel inclined. If I wish to occupy myself with household
+matters, I am the mistress here.”
+
+“In other words, you are free to do everything that is not worth
+doing,--you lead the life of a nun in a convent, only that you have not
+even a sister nun to talk to.”
+
+“And which are the things you say are worth doing?”
+
+“Would you not care to go out into the world, to mix in society, to go
+to balls, theatres, fêtes, and such-like? Would you not like to ride? I
+don't mean it for flattery, but would you not, like the admiration you
+would be sure to meet,--the sort of homage people render to beauty,
+the ouly tribute the world ever paid freely,--are all these not worth
+something?”
+
+“I am sure they are: they are worth a great deal to those who can enjoy
+them with a happy heart; but remember, Colonel Se well, I have a father
+living in exile, simply to earn a livelihood, and I have a brother
+toiling for his bread in a strange land: is it likely I could forget
+these, or is it likely that I could carry such cares about with me, and
+enjoy the pleasures you tell of?”
+
+“Oh! as for that, I never met the man, nor woman either, that could
+bring into the world a mind unburdened by care. You must take life as it
+is. If I was to wait for a heart at ease before I went into society, I
+'d have to decline a few dinner-parties. Your only chance of a little
+respite, besides, is at your age. The misfortunes of life begin as a
+little drizzle, but become a regular downpour when one gets to _my_ time
+of life. Let me just tell you what this morning brought forth. A letter
+and then a telegram from my wife, to tell me that my favorite horse--an
+animal worth five hundred pounds if he was worth five shillings--the
+truest, bravest, best horse I ever backed--has just been killed by a
+stupid fellow I got to ride for me. What he did to make the horse refuse
+his leap, what magic he used, what conjuring trick he performed, I can't
+tell. With _me_ it was enough to show him his fence, and if I wanted it
+I could n't have held him back. But this fellow--a dragoon, too, and the
+crack rider of his regiment--contrives to discourage my poor beast, then
+rushes him at the jump at half speed. I know it was a widish brook, and
+they tumbled in, and my horse smashed his blade bone,--of course there
+was nothing for it but to shoot him.”
+
+“How sad! I am really sorry for you.”
+
+“And all this came of the old Judge's message, the stupidity of sending
+me five words in a telegram, instead of writing a proper note, and
+saying what he wanted. But for that I 'd have stayed at home, ridden my
+horse, won my match, and spared myself the whole disaster.”
+
+“Grandpapa is often very hasty in his decisions, but I believe he seldom
+sees cause to revoke them.”
+
+“The old theory, 'The King can do no wrong,'” said Sewell, with a saucy
+laugh; “but remember he can often do a deal of mischief incidentally, as
+it were,--as on the present occasion.”
+
+“And the rider, what of him? Did he escape unhurt?” said she, eager to
+avoid unpleasant discussion.
+
+“The rider! my dear young lady,” said he, with affected slowness,--“the
+rider came to grief. What he did, or how he did it, to throw my poor
+horse down, is his own secret, and, from what I hear, he is likely to
+keep it. No, no, don't look so horrified,--he's not killed, but I don't
+suspect he's a long way off it. He got a smashing fall at a fence I 'd
+have backed myself to ride with my hands tied. Ay, and to have my good
+horse back again, I 'd ride in that fashion to-morrow.”
+
+“And the poor fellow, where is he now?”
+
+“The poor fellow is receiving the very sweetest of Mrs. Sewell's
+attentions. He is at my house,--in all likelihood in my room,--not that
+he is very conscious of all the favors bestowed upon him.”
+
+“Oh, don't talk with that pretended indifference! You must be, you
+cannot help being, deeply sorry for what has happened.”
+
+“There can be very little doubt on that score. I've lost such a horse as
+I never shall own again.”
+
+“Pray think of something beside your horse. Who was he? What's his
+name?”
+
+“A stranger,--an Englishman; you never heard of him; and I wish I had
+never heard of him!”
+
+“What are you smiling at?” said she, after a pause, for he stood as
+though reflecting, and a very strange half-smile moved his mouth.
+
+“I was just thinking,” said he, gravely, “what his younger brother ought
+to give me; for this fellow was an elder son, and heir to a fine estate
+too.”
+
+She turned an indignant glance towards him, and moved away. He was
+quickly after her, however, and, laying his hand on her arm, said
+good-humoredly: “Come, don't be angry with me. I 'm sorry, if you
+like,--I 'm very sorry for this poor fellow. I won't say that my own
+loss does not dash my sorrow with a little anger,--he was such a horse!
+and the whole thing was such a blunder! as fair a brook,--with a high
+bank, it's true,--but as fair a fence as ever & man rode at, and ground
+like this we 're walking over to take off from.”
+
+“Is he in danger?”
+
+“I believe so; here's what my wife says. Oh, I haven't got the letter
+about me, but it comes to this, I was to send down one of the best
+doctors by the first train, telling him it was a case of compression
+or concussion, which is it? And so I have despatched Beattie, your
+grandfather's man. I suppose there 's no better?”
+
+“But why have you not gone back yourself? He was a friend, was he not?”
+
+“Yes, he was what people would call a friend. I 'm like the hare in the
+fable, I have many friends; but if I must be confidential, I 'll tell
+you why I did _not_ go. I had a notion, just as likely to be wrong
+as right, that the Chief would take offence at his Registrar being a
+sporting character, and that if I were to absent myself just now, he'd
+find out the reason, whereas by staying here I could keep all quiet, and
+when Beattie came back I could square _him_.”
+
+“You could what?”
+
+“A thousand pardons for my bit of slang; but the fact is, just as one
+talks French when he wants to say nothings, one takes to slang when one
+requires to be shifty. I meant to say, I could manage to make the doctor
+hold his tongue.”
+
+“Not if grandpapa were to question him.”
+
+Sewell smiled, and shook his head in dissent.
+
+“No, no. You're quite mistaken in Dr. Beattie; and what's more, you 're
+quite mistaken in grandpapa too, if you imagine that he 'll think the
+better of you for forgetting the claims of friendship.”
+
+“There was none.”
+
+“Well, of humanity, then! It was in _your_ cause this man suffered, and
+it is in _your_ house he lies ill. I think you ought to be there also.”
+
+“Do you think so?”
+
+“I 'm sure of it. You know the world a great deal better than I do,
+and you can tell what people will say of your absence; but I think it
+requires no knowledge of more than one's own nature to feel what is
+right and proper here.”
+
+“Indeed!” said he, reflectingly.
+
+“Don't you agree with me?”
+
+“Perhaps,--that is, in part. I suppose what you mean about the world is,
+that there will be some scandal afloat, the 'young wife' story, and all
+that sort of balderdash?”
+
+“I really do not understand you.”
+
+“You don't?”
+
+“No. Certainly not. What do you mean?”
+
+“Possibly you did not understand me. Well, if I am to go, there 's no
+time to be lost. It's four o'clock already, and the last train leaves at
+five-forty. I will go.”
+
+“You are quite right.”
+
+“You 'll make my excuses to the Chief. You 'll tell him that my wife's
+message was so alarming that I could not delay my departure. Beattie
+will probably be back tomorrow, and bring you news of us.”
+
+“Won't you write a few lines?”
+
+“I 'm not sure,--I 'll not promise. I'm a bad penman, but my wife will
+write, I 've no doubt. Say all sorts of affectionate and dutiful things
+to the Chief for me; tell him I went away in despair at not being able
+to say good-bye; he likes that style of thing, does n't he?”
+
+“I don't think he cares much for 'that style of thing,'” said she, with
+a saucy smile.
+
+“What a capital mimic you are! Do you know I am just beginning to
+suspect that you are, for all your quiet simplicity of manner, a deuced
+deep one. Am I right?”
+
+She shook her head, but made no reply.
+
+“Not that I 'd like you the less for it,” said he, eagerly; “on the
+contrary, we 'd understand each other all the better; there's nothing
+like people talking the same language, eh?”
+
+“I hope you'll not lose your train,” said she, looking at her watch; “I
+am half-past four.”
+
+“A broad hint,” said he, laughing; “bye-bye,--_à bientôt_.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. BEATTIE'S RETURN
+
+The old Chief sat alone in his dining-room over his wine. If somewhat
+fatigued by the labors of the day,--for the Court had sat late,--he
+showed little of exhaustion; still less was he, as his years might have
+excused, drowsy or heavy. He sat bolt upright in his chair, and by an
+occasional gesture of his hand, or motion of his head, seemed as though
+he were giving assent to some statement he was listening to, or making
+his comments on it as it proceeded.
+
+The post had brought a letter to Lucy just as dinner was over. It bore
+the post-mark “Cagliari,” and was in her brother's hand; and the old
+man, with considerate kindness, told her to go to her room and read it.
+“No, my dear child,” said he, as she arose to leave the room; “no! I
+shall not be lonely,--where there is memory there are troops of friends.
+Come back and tell me your news when you have read your letter.”
+
+More than an hour passed over, and he sat there heedless of time. A
+whole long life was passing in review before him, not connectedly, or in
+due sequence of events, but in detached scenes and incidents. Now it
+was some stormy night in the old Irish House, when Flood and Grattan
+exchanged their terrific denunciations and insults,--now it was a
+brilliant dinner at Ponsonby's, with all the wits of the day,--now he
+was leading the famous Kitty O'Dwyer, the beauty of the Irish Court, to
+her carriage, amid such a murmur of admiration as made the progress a
+triumph; or, again, it was a raw morning of November, and he was driving
+across the park to be present at Curran's meeting with Egan.
+
+A violent ring of the hall bell startled him, and before he could
+inquire the cause a servant had announced Dr. Beattie.
+
+“I thought I might be fortunate enough to catch you before bed-hour,”
+ said the doctor, “and I knew you would like to hear some tidings of my
+mission.”
+
+“You have been to--Where have you been?” said the old Judge, embarrassed
+between the late flood of his recollections and the sudden start of his
+arrival.
+
+“To Killaloe, to see that poor fellow who had the severe fall in the
+hurdle-race.”
+
+“Ay--to be sure--yes. I remember all now. Give me a moment, however.” He
+nodded his head twice or thrice, as if concurring with some statement,
+and then said, “Go on, sir; the Court is with you.”
+
+Beattie proceeded to detail the accident and the state of the
+sufferer,--of whom he pronounced favorably,--saying that there was no
+fracture, nor anything worse than severe concussion. “In fact,” said he,
+“were it an hospital case, I'd say there was very little danger.”
+
+“And do you mean to tell me, sir,” said the Judge, who had followed the
+narrative with extreme attention, “that the man of birth and blood must
+succumb in any conflict more readily than the low-born?”
+
+“It's not the individual I was thinking of, so much as his belongings
+here. What I fear for in the present case is what the patient must
+confront every day of his convalescence.”
+
+Seeing that the Judge waited for some explanation, Beattie began to
+relate that, as he had started from Dublin the day before, he found
+himself in the same carriage with the young man's mother, who had been
+summoned by telegraph to her son's bedside.
+
+“I have met,” said he, “in my time, nearly all sorts and conditions
+of people. Indeed, a doctor's life brings him into contact with more
+maladies of nature and temperament than diseases of material origin;
+but anything like this woman I never saw before. To begin: she combined
+within herself two qualities that seem opposed to each other,--a most
+lavish candor on the score of herself and her family, and an intense
+distrust of all the rest of mankind. She told me she was a baronet's
+wife; how she had married him; where they lived; what his estate was
+worth; how this young fellow had become, by the death of a brother, the
+heir to the property; and how his father, indignant at his extravagance,
+had disentailed the estate, to leave it to a younger son if so disposed.
+She showed at times the very greatest anxiety about her son's state; but
+at other moments just as intense an eagerness to learn what schemes and
+intrigues were being formed against him,--who were the people in whose
+house he then was, what they were, and how he came there. To all my
+assurances that they were persons in every respect her son's equals,
+she answered by a toss of the head or a saucy half-laugh. 'Irish?' asked
+she. 'Yes, Irish.' 'I thought so,' rejoined she; 'I told Sir Hugh I
+was sure of it, though he said there were English Sewells.' From this
+instant her distrust broke forth. All Ireland had been in a conspiracy
+against her family for years. She had a brother, she said it with a
+shiver of horror, who was cruelly beaten by an attorney in Cork for a
+little passing pleasantry to the man's sister; he had kissed her, or
+something of the kind, in a railroad carriage; and her cousin,--poor
+dear Cornwall is Merivale,--it was in Ireland he found that creature
+that got the divorce against him two years since. She went on to say
+that there had been a plot against her son, in the very neighborhood
+where he now lay ill, only a year ago,--some intrigue to involve him in
+a marriage, the whole details of which she threatened me with the first
+time we should be alone.
+
+“Though at some moments expressing herself in terms of real affection
+and anxiety about her poor son, she would suddenly break off to
+speculate on what might happen from his death. 'You know, doctor, there
+is only one more boy, and if his life lapsed, Holt and the Holt estate
+goes to the Carringtons.'”
+
+“An odious woman, sir,--a most odious woman; I only wonder why you
+continued to travel in the same carriage with her.”
+
+“My profession teaches great tolerance,” said the doctor, mildly.
+
+“Don't call tolerance, sir, what there is a better word
+for,--subserviency. I am amazed how you endured this woman.”
+
+“Remember--it is to'be remembered--that in my version of her I have
+condensed the conversation of some hours, and given you, as it were, the
+substance of much talking; and also that I have not attempted to convey
+what certainly was a very perfect manner. She had no small share of
+good looks, a very sweet voice, and considerable attraction in point of
+breeding.”
+
+“I will accept none of these as alleviations, sir; her blandishments
+cannot blind the Court.”
+
+“I will not deny their influence upon myself,” said Beattie, gently.
+
+“I can understand you, sir,” said the Judge, pompously. “The habits of
+your profession teach you to swallow so much that is nauseous in a sweet
+vehicle, that you carry the same custom into morals.”
+
+Beattie laughed so heartily at the analogy that the old man's good-humor
+returned to him, and he bade him continue his narrative.
+
+“I have not much more to tell. We reached the house by about eleven
+o'clock at night, and my fellow-traveller sat in the carriage till I
+announced her to Mrs. Sewell. My own cares called me to the sick-room,
+and I saw no more of the ladies till this morning, just before I came
+away.”
+
+“She is, then, domesticated there? She has taken up her quarters at the
+Sewells' house?”
+
+“Yes. I found her maid, too, had taken possession of Colonel Sewell's
+dressing-room, and dispossessed a number of his chattels to make room
+for her own.”
+
+“It is a happy thing, a very happy thing for me, that I have not been
+tried by these ordeals,” said the Judge, with a long-drawn breath. “I
+wonder how Colonel Sewell will endure it.”
+
+“I have no means of knowing; he arrived late at night, and was still in
+bed and asleep when I left.”
+
+“You have not told me these people's name?”
+
+“Trafford,--Sir Hugh Beecham Trafford, of Holt-Trafford, Staffordshire.”
+
+“I have met the man, or rather his father, for it was nigh fifty years
+ago,--an old family, and of Saxon origin; and his wife,--who was she?”
+
+“Her name was Merivale. Her father, I think, was Governor of Madras.”
+
+“If so, sir, she has hereditary claims for impertinence and presumption.
+Sir Ulysses Merivale enjoyed the proud distinction of being the most
+insolent man in England. It is well that you have told me who she was,
+Beattie, for I might have made a very fatal blunder. I was going to
+write to Sewell to say, 'As this is a great issue, I would advise you
+to bring down your mother, “special,”' but I recall my intention. Lady
+Lendrick would have no chance against Lady Trafford. Irish insolence has
+not the finish of the English article, and we put an alloy of feeling in
+it that destroys it altogether. Will the young man recover?”
+
+“He is going on favorably, and I see nothing to apprehend, except,
+indeed, that the indiscretions of his mother may prejudice his case. She
+is very likely to insist on removing him; she hinted it to me as I took
+my leave.”
+
+“I will write to the Sewells to come up here at once. They shall
+evacuate the territory, and leave her in possession. As persons closely
+connected with my family, they must not have this outrage put upon
+them.” He rang the bell violently, and desired the servant to request
+Miss Lendrick to come to him.
+
+“She is not very well, my Lord, and has gone to her room. She told Mrs.
+Beales to serve your Lordship's tea when you were ready for it.”
+
+“What is this? What does all this mean?” said the old Judge, eagerly;
+for the idea of any one presuming to be ill without duly apprising
+him--without the preliminary step of ascertaining that it could not
+inconvenience him--was more than he was fully prepared for.
+
+“Tell Mrs. Beales I want her,” said he, as he rose and left the room.
+Muttering angrily as he went, he ascended the stairs and traversed the
+long corridor which led to Lucy's room; but before he had reached the
+door the housekeeper was at his side.
+
+“Miss Lucy said she 'd like to see your Lordship, if it was n't too much
+trouble, my Lord.”
+
+“I am going to see her. Ask her if I may come in.”
+
+“Yes, my Lord,” said Mrs. Beales from the open door. “She is awake.”
+
+“My own dear grandpapa,” said Lucy, stretching out her arms to him from
+her bed, “how good and kind of you to come here!”
+
+“My dear, dear child,” said he, fondly; “tell me you are not ill; tell
+me that it is a mere passing indisposition.”
+
+“Not even so much, grandpapa. It is simply a headache. I was crying, and
+I was ashamed that you should see it; and I walked out into the air; and
+I came back again, trying to look at ease; and my head began to throb
+and to pain me so that I thought it best to go to bed. It was a letter I
+got,--a letter from Cagliari. Poor Tom has had the terrible fever of
+the island. He said nothing about it at first, but now he has relapsed.
+There are only three lines in his own hand,--the rest is from his
+friend. You shall see what he says. It is very short, and not very hard
+to read.”
+
+The old man put on his spectacles and read:--
+
+“'My very dear Lucy.'
+
+“Who presumes to address you in this way? 'Brook Fossbrooke?' What! is
+this the man who is called Sir Brook Fossbrooke? By what means have you
+become so intimate with a person of his character?”
+
+“I know nothing better, nothing more truly noble and generous, than his
+character,” said she, holding her temples as she spoke, for the pain of'
+her head was almost agony. “Do read on,--read on, dearest grandpapa.”
+
+He turned again to the letter, and read it over in silence till he came
+to the few words in Tom's hand, which he read aloud: “Darling Lu--I
+shall be all right in a week. Don't fret, but write me a long--long”--he
+had forgotten the word “letter,”--“and love me always.”
+
+She burst into tears, as the old man read the words, for by some strange
+magic, the syllables of deep affection, uttered by one unmoved, smite
+the heart with a pang that is actual torture.
+
+“I will take this letter down to Beattie, Lucy, and hear what he says of
+it,” said the old man, and left the room.
+
+“Read this, Beattie, and tell me what you say to it,” said the Chief
+Baron, as he handed the doctor Sir Brook's letter; “I'll tell you of the
+writer when you have read it.”
+
+Beattie read the note in silence, and as he laid it on the table said,
+“I know the man, and his strange old-fashioned writing would have
+recalled him without his name.”
+
+“And what do you know of him, sir?” asked the Judge, sternly.
+
+“I can tell you the story in three words: He came to consult me one
+morning, about six or eight months ago. It was about an insurance on his
+life,--a very small sum he wanted to raise, to go out to this very place
+he writes from. He got to talk about the project, and I don't exactly
+know how it came about,--I forget the details now,--but it ended by my
+lending him the money myself.”
+
+“What, sir! do you combine usury with physic?”
+
+“On that occasion I appear to have done so,” said Beattie, laughing.
+
+“And you advanced a sum of money to a man whom you saw for the first
+time, simply on his showing that his life was too insecure to guarantee
+repayment?”
+
+“That puts the matter a little too nakedly.”
+
+“It puts it truthfully, sir, I apprehend.”
+
+“If you mean that the man impressed me so favorably that I was disposed
+to do him a small service, you are right.”
+
+“You and I, Beattie, are too old for this impulsive generosity,--too old
+by thirty years! After forty philanthropy should take a chronic form,
+and never have paroxysms. I think I am correct in my medical language.”
+
+“Your medicine pleases me more than your morality,” said Beattie,
+laughing; “but to come back to this Sir Brook, I wish you had seen him.”
+
+“Sir, I have seen him, and I have heard of him, and if not at liberty
+to say what I have heard of him, it is quite enough to state that _my_
+information cannot corroborate _your_ opinion.”
+
+“Well, my Lord, the possibility of what I might hear will not shake the
+stability of what I have seen. Remember that we doctors imagine we read
+human nature by stronger spectacles than the laity generally.”
+
+“You imagine it, I am aware, sir; but I have met with no such instances
+of acuteness amongst your co-professionals as would sustain the claim;
+but why are we wandering from the record? I gave you that letter to read
+that you might tell me, is this boy's case a dangerous one?”
+
+“It is a very grave case, no doubt; this is the malaria fever of
+Sardinia,--bad enough with the natives, but worse with strangers. He
+should be removed to better air at once if he could bear removal.”
+
+“So is it ever with your art,” said the Judge, in a loud declamatory
+voice. “You know nothing in your difficulties but a piteous entreaty to
+the unknown resources of nature to assist you. No, sir; I will not
+hear your defence; there is no issue before the Court. What sort of
+practitioners have they in this island?”
+
+“Rude enough, I can believe.”
+
+“Could a man of eminence be found to go out there and see him?”
+
+“A man in large practice could not spare the time; but there are men of
+ability who are not yet in high repute: one of these might be possibly
+induced.”
+
+“And what might the expense be?”
+
+“A couple of hundred--say three hundred pounds, would perhaps suffice.”
+
+“Go upstairs and see my granddaughter. She is very nervous and feverish;
+calm her mind so far as you are able; say that we are concerting
+measures for her brother's benefit; and by the time you shall come down
+again I will have made up my mind what to do.”
+
+Beattie was a valued friend of Lucy's, and she was glad to see him enter
+her room, but she would not suffer him to speak of herself; it was
+of poor Tom alone she would talk. She heard with delight the generous
+intentions of her grandfather, and exclaimed with rapture,--“This is his
+real nature, and yet it is only by the little foibles of his temper that
+the world knows him; but we, doctor,--we, who see him as he is, know how
+noble-hearted and affectionate he can be!”
+
+“I must hasten back to him,” said Beattie, after a short space; “for
+should he decide on sending out a doctor, I must lose no time, as I must
+return to see this young fellow at Killaloe to-morrow.”
+
+“Oh, in my greater anxieties I forgot him! How is he,--can he recover?”
+
+“Yes, I regard him as out of danger,--that is, if Lady Trafford can be
+persuaded not to talk him into a relapse.”
+
+“Lady Trafford! who is she?”
+
+“His mother; she arrived last night.”
+
+“And his name is Trafford, and his Christian name Lionel?”
+
+“Lionel Wentworth Trafford. I took it from his dressing-case when I
+prescribed for him.”
+
+Lucy had been leaning on her arm as she spoke, but she now sank slowly
+backward and fainted.
+
+It was a long time before consciousness came back, and even then she
+lay voiceless and motionless, and, though she heard what Beattie said
+to her, unable to speak to him, or intimate by a gesture that she heard
+him.
+
+The doctor needed no confidences,--he read the whole story. There are
+expressions in the human face which have no reference to physical ills;
+nor are there any indications of bodily suffering. He who asked, “Canst
+thou minister to a mind diseased?” knew how hopeless was his question;
+and this very despair it is--this sense of an affliction beyond the
+reach of art--gives a character to the expression which the doctor's eye
+never fails to discriminate from the look worn by mere malady.
+
+As she lay there motionless, her large eyes looking at him with that
+expression in which eagerness struggles against debility, he saw how he
+had become her confidant.
+
+“Come, my dear child,” said he, taking her hand between both his own,
+“you have no occasion for fears on this score,--so far I assure you on
+my honor.”
+
+She gave his hand a slight, a very slight pressure, and tried to say
+something, but could not. “I will go down now, and see what is to be
+done about your brother.” She nodded, and he continued: “I will pay you
+another visit to-morrow early, before I leave town, and let me find
+you strong and hearty; and remember that though I force no confidences,
+Lucy, I will not refuse them if you offer.”
+
+“I have none, sir,--none,” said she, in a voice of deep melancholy.
+
+“So that I know all that is to be known?” asked he.
+
+“All, sir,” said she, with a trembling lip.
+
+“Well, accept me as a friend whom you may trust, my dear Lucy. If you
+want me, I will not fail you; and if you have no need of me, there is
+nothing that has passed to-day between us ever to be remembered,--you
+understand me?”
+
+“I do, sir. You will come to-morrow, won't you?”
+
+He nodded assent, and left her.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. AN EXIT
+
+Colonel Sewell stood at the window of a small drawing-room he
+called “his own,” watching the details of loading a very cumbrous
+travelling-carriage which was drawn up before the door. Though the
+postilions were in the saddle, and all ready for a start, the process of
+putting up the luggage went on but slowly,--now a heavy imperial
+would be carried out, and after a while taken in again; dressing-boxes
+carefully stowed away would be disinterred to be searched for some
+missing article; bags, baskets, and boxes of every shape and sort came
+and went and came again; and although the two footmen who assisted these
+operations showed in various ways what length of training had taught
+them to submit to in the way of worry and caprice, the smart “maid,” who
+now and then appeared to give some order, displayed most unmistakable
+signs of ill-humor on her face. “Drat those dogs! I wish they were down
+the river!” cried she, of two yelping, barking Maltese terriers, which,
+with small bells jingling on their collars, made an uproar that was
+perfectly deafening.
+
+“Well, Miss Morris, if it would oblige _you_--” said one of the tall
+footmen, as he caressed his whisker, and gave a very languishing
+look, more than enough, he thought, to supply the words wanting to his
+sentence.
+
+“It would oblige _me_ very much, Mr. George, to get away out of this
+horrid place. I never did--no, never--in all my life pass such a ten
+days.”
+
+“We ain't a-going just yet, after all,” said footman number two, with a
+faint yawn.
+
+“It's so like you, Mr. Breggis, to say something disagreeable,” said
+she, with a toss of her head.
+
+“It's because it's true I say it, not because it's onpleasant, Miss
+Caroline.”
+
+“I'm not Miss Caroline, at least from you, Mr. Breggis.”
+
+“Ain't she haughty,--ain't she fierce?” But his colleague would not
+assent to this judgment, and looked at her with a longing admiration.
+
+“There's her bell again,” cried the girl; “as sure as I live, she's rung
+forty times this morning;” and she hurried back to the house.
+
+“Why do you think we're not off yet?” asked George.
+
+“It's the way I heerd her talking that shows me,” replied the other.
+“Whenever she 's really about to leave a place she goes into them fits
+of laughing and crying and screaming one minute, and a-whimpering the
+next; and then she tells the people--as it were, unknownst to her--how
+she hated them all,--how stingy they was,--the shameful way they starved
+the servants, and such-like. There's some as won't let her into their
+houses by reason of them fits, for she'll plump out everything she knows
+of a family,--who ran away with the Misses, and why the second daughter
+went over to France.”
+
+“You know her better than me, Breggis.”
+
+“I do think I does; it's eight years I 've had of it. Eh, what's
+that,--was n't that a screech?” and as he spoke a wild shrill scream
+resounded through the house, followed by a rapid succession of notes
+that might either have been laughter or crying.
+
+Sewell drew the curtain; and wheeling an arm-chair to the fireside, lit
+his cigar, and began to smoke.
+
+The house was so small that the noises could be heard easily in every
+part of it; and for a time the rapid passage of persons overhead, and
+the voices of many speaking together, could be detected, and, above
+these, a wild shriek would now and then rise above all, and ring through
+the house. Sewell smoked on undisturbed; it was not easy to say that he
+so much as heard these sounds. His indolent attitude, and his seeming
+enjoyment of his cigar, indicated perfect composure; nor even when the
+door opened, and his wife entered the room, did he turn his head to see
+who it was.
+
+“Can William have the pony to go into town?” asked she, in a
+half-submissive voice.
+
+“For what?”
+
+“To tell Dr. Tobin to come out; Lady Trafford is taken ill.”
+
+“He can go on foot; I may want the pony.”
+
+“She is alarmingly ill, I fear,--very violent spasms; and I don't think
+there is any time to be lost.”
+
+“Nobody that makes such a row as that can be in any real danger.”
+
+“She is in great pain, at all events.”
+
+“Send one of her own people,--despatch one of the postboys,--do what you
+like, only don't bore _me_.”
+
+She was turning to leave the room, when he called out, “I say, when the
+attack came on did she take the opportunity to tell you any pleasant
+little facts about yourself or your family?” She smiled faintly, and
+moved towards the door. “Can't you tell me, ma'am? Has this woman been
+condoling with you over your hard fate and your bad husband? or has she
+discovered how that 'dear boy' upstairs broke his head as well as his
+heart in your service?”
+
+“She did ask me certainly if there was n't a great friendship between
+you and her son,” said she, with a tone of quiet disdain.
+
+“And what did you reply?” said he, throwing one leg over the arm of the
+chair as he swung round to face her.
+
+“I don't well remember. I may have said _you_ liked _him_, or that _he_
+liked _you_. It was such a commonplace reply I made, I forget it.”
+
+“And was that all that passed on the subject?”
+
+“I think I'd better send for the doctor,” said she, and left the room
+before he could stop her, though that such was his intention was evident
+from the way he arose from his chair with a sudden spring.
+
+“You shall hear more of this, Madam,--by Heaven, you shall!” muttered
+he, as he paced the room with rapid steps. “Who's that? Come in,” cried
+he, as a knock came to the door. “Oh, Balfour! is it you?”
+
+“Yes; what the deuce is going on upstairs? Lady Trafford appears to have
+gone mad.”
+
+“Indeed! how unpleasant!”
+
+“Very unpleasant for your wife, I take it. She has been saying all sorts
+of unmannerly things to her this last hour,--things that, if she were
+n't out of her reason, she ought to be thrown out of the window for.”
+
+“And why didn't you do so?”
+
+“It was a liberty I couldn't think of taking in another man's house.”
+
+“Lord love you, I'd have thought nothing of it! I'm the best-natured
+fellow breathing. What was it she said?”
+
+“I don't know how I can repeat them.”
+
+“Oh, I see, they reflect on me. My dear young friend, when you live to
+my age you will learn that anything can be said to anybody, provided it
+only be done by 'the third party.' Whatever the law rejects as evidence,
+assumes in social life the value of friendly admonition. Go on, and tell
+me who it is is in love with my wife.”
+
+Cool as Mr. Cholmondely Balfour was, the tone of this demand staggered
+him.
+
+“Art thou the man, Balfour?” said Sewell at last, staring at him with a
+mock frown.
+
+“No, by Jove! I never presumed that far.”
+
+“It's the sick fellow, then, is the culprit?”
+
+“So his mother opines. She is an awful woman! I was sitting with your
+wife in the small drawing-room when she burst into the room and cried
+out, 'Mrs. Sewell, is your name Lucy? for, if so, my son has been
+rambling on about you this last hour in a wonderful way: he has told me
+about fifty times that he wants to see you before he dies; and now that
+the doctor says he is out of danger he never ceases talking of dying.
+I suppose you have no objection to the interview; at least they tell me
+you were constantly in his room before my arrival.”
+
+“How did my wife take this?--what did she say?” asked Sewell, with an
+easy smile as he spoke.
+
+“She said something about agitation or anxiety serving to excuse conduct
+which otherwise would be unpardonable; and she asked me to send her maid
+to her,--as I think, to get me away.”
+
+“Of course you rang the bell and sat down again.”
+
+“No; she gave me a look that said, I don't want you here, and I went;
+but the storm broke out again as I closed the door, and I heard Lady
+Trafford's voice raised to a scream as I came downstairs.”
+
+“It all shows what I have said over and over again,” said Sewell,
+slowly, “that whenever a man has a grudge or a grievance against a
+woman, he ought always to get another woman to torture her. I 'll lay
+you fifty pounds Lady Traf-ford cut deeper into my wife's flesh by
+her two or three impertinences than if I had stormed myself into an
+apoplexy.”
+
+“And don't you mean to turn her out of the house?”
+
+“Turn whom out?”
+
+“Lady Trafford, of course.”
+
+“It's not so easily done, I suspect. I'll take to the long-boat myself
+one of these days, and leave her in command of the ship.”
+
+“I tell you she's a dangerous, a very dangerous woman; she has
+been ransacking her son's desk, and has come upon all sorts of ugly
+memoranda,--sums lost at play, and reminders to meet bills, and
+such-like.”
+
+“Yes; he was very unlucky of late,” said Sewell, coldly.
+
+“And there was something like a will, too; at least there was a packet
+of trinkets tied up in a paper, which purported to be a will, but only
+bore the name Lucy.”
+
+“How delicate! there's something touching in that, Balfour; isn't
+there?” said Sewell, with a grin. “How wonderfully you seem to have got
+up the case! You know the whole story. How did you manage it?”
+
+“My fellow Paxley had it from Lady Trafford's maid. She told him that
+her mistress was determined to show all her son's papers to the Chief
+Baron, and blow you sky high.”
+
+“That's awkward, certainly,” said Sewell, in deep thought. “It would be
+a devil of a conflagration if two such combustibles came together. I 'd
+rather she 'd fight it out with my mother.”
+
+“Have you sent in your papers to the Horse Guards?”
+
+“Yes; it's all finished. I am gazetted out, or I shall be on Tuesday.”
+
+“I'm sorry for it. Not that it signifies much as to this registrarship.
+We never intended to relinquish our right to it, we mean to throw the
+case into Chancery, and we have one issue already to submit to trial at
+bar.”
+
+“Who are _we_ that are going to do all this?”
+
+“The Crown,” said Balfour, haughtily.
+
+“_Ego et rex meus_; that's the style, is it? Come now, Balfy, if you 're
+for a bet, I 'll back my horse, the Chief Baron, against the field. Give
+me sporting odds, for he 's aged, and must run in bandages besides.”
+
+“That woman's coming here at this moment was most unlucky.”
+
+“Of course it was; it would n't be _my_ lot if it were anything else.
+I say,” cried he, starting up, and approaching the window, “what's up
+now?”
+
+“She's going at last, I really believe.”
+
+The sound of many and heavy footsteps was now heard descending the
+stairs slowly, and immediately after two men issued from the door,
+carrying young Trafford on a chair; his arms hung listlessly at his
+side, and his head was supported by his servant.
+
+“I wonder whose doing is this? Has the doctor given his concurrence to
+it? How are they to get him into the coach, and what are they to do with
+him when he is there?” Such was the running commentary Balfour kept
+up all the time they were engaged in depositing the sick man in the
+carriage. Again a long pause of inaction ensued, and at last a tap came
+to the door of the room, and a servant inquired for Mr. Balfour.
+
+“There!” cried Sewell, “it's _your_ turn now. I only hope she 'll insist
+on your accompanying her to town.”
+
+Balfour hurried out, and was seen soon afterwards escorting Lady
+Trafford to the carriage. Whether it was that she was not yet decided
+as to her departure, or that she had so many injunctions to give before
+going, the eventful moment was long delayed. She twice tried the seat in
+the carriage, once with cushions and then without. She next made Balfour
+try whether it might not be possible to have a sort of inclined plane to
+lie upon. At length she seemed overcome with her exertions, sent for
+a chair, and had a glass of water given her, to which her maid added
+certain drops from a phial.
+
+“You will tell Colonel Sewell all I have said, Mr. Balfour,” said she,
+aloud, as she prepared to enter the carriage. “It would have been more
+agreeable to me had he given me the opportunity of saying it to himself,
+but his peculiar notions on the duties of a host have prevented this. As
+to Mrs. Sewell, I hope and believe I have sufficiently explained myself.
+She at least knows my sentiments as to what goes on in this house. Of
+course, sir, it is very agreeable to _you_. Men of pleasure are not
+persons to be overburdened with scruples,--least of all such scruples as
+interfere with self-indulgence. This sort of life is therefore charming;
+I leave you to all its delights, sir, and do not even warn you against
+its dangers. I will not promise the same discretion, however, when I go
+hence. I owe it to all mothers who have sons, Mr. Balfour,--I owe it to
+every family in which there is a name to be transmitted, and a fortune
+to be handed down, to declare what I have witnessed under this roof. No,
+Lionel,--no, my dear boy; nothing shall prevent my speaking out.” This
+was addressed to her son, who by a deep sigh seemed to protest against
+the sentiments he was not able to oppose. “It may suit Mr. Balfour's
+habits, or his tastes, to remain here,--with these I have nothing to do.
+The Duke of Bayswater might possibly think his heir could keep better
+company,--with that I have no concern; though when the matter comes to
+be discussed before me,--as it one day will, I have no doubt,--I shall
+hold myself free to state my opinion. Good-bye, sir; you will, perhaps,
+do me the favor to call at the Bilton; I shall remain till Saturday
+there; I have resolved not to leave Ireland till I see the Viceroy; and
+also have a meeting with this Judge, I forget his name, Lam--Lena--what
+is it? He is the Chief something, and easily found.”
+
+A few very energetic words, uttered so low as to be inaudible to all but
+Balfour himself, closed this address.
+
+“On my word of honor,--on my sacred word of honor,--Mr. Balfour,” said
+she, aloud as she placed one foot on the step, “Caroline saw it,--saw
+it with her own eyes. Don't forget all I have said; don't drop that
+envelope; be sure you come to see me.” And she was gone.
+
+“Give me five minutes to recover myself,” said Balfour, as he entered Se
+well's room, and threw himself on a sofa; “such a 'breather' as that I
+have not had for many a day.”
+
+“I heard a good deal of it,” said Sewell, coolly. “She screams,
+particularly when she means to be confidential; and all that about my
+wife must have reached the gardener in the shrubbery. Where is she off
+to?”
+
+“To Dublin. She means to see his Excellency and the Chief Baron; she
+says she can't leave Ireland till she has unmasked all your wickedness.”
+
+“She had better take a house on a lease then; did you tell her so?”
+
+“I did nothing but listen,--I never interposed a word. Indeed, she won't
+let one speak.”
+
+“I 'd give ten pounds to see her with the Chief Baron. It would be such
+a 'close thing.' All his neat sparring would go for nothing against her;
+for though she hits wide, she can stand a deal of punishment without
+feeling it.”
+
+“She 'll do you mischief there.”
+
+“She might,” said he, more thoughtfully. “I think I 'll set my mother at
+her; not that she 'll have a chance, but just for the fun of the thing.
+What 's the letter in your hand?”
+
+“Oh, a commission she gave me. I was to distribute this amongst your
+household;” and he drew forth a banknote. “Twenty pounds! you have no
+objection to it, have you?”
+
+“I know nothing about it; of course you never hinted such a thing to
+me;” and with this he arose and left the room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A STORMY MOMENT
+
+Within a week after the first letter came a second from Cagliari. It was
+but half a dozen lines from Tom himself.
+
+“They are sending me off to a place called Maddalena, dearest Lucy, for
+change of air The priest has given me his house, and I am to be Robinson
+Crusoe there, with an old hag for Friday,--how I wish for you! Sir Brook
+can only come over to me occasionally. Look out for three rocks--they
+call them islands--off the N. E. of Sardinia; one of them is mine.--Ever
+your own,
+
+“Tom L.”
+
+Lucy hastened down with this letter in her hand to her grandfather's
+room, but met Mr. Haire on the stairs, who whispered in her ear, “Don't
+go in just yet, my dear; he is out of sorts this morning; Lady Lendrick
+has been here, and a number of unpleasant letters have arrived, and it
+is better not to disturb him further.”
+
+“Will you take this note,” said she, “and give it to him at any fitting
+moment? I want to know what I shall reply,--I mean, I 'd like to hear if
+grandpapa has any kind message to send the poor fellow.”
+
+“Leave it with me. I 'll take charge of it, and come up to tell you when
+you can see the Judge.” Thus saying, he passed on, and entered the room
+where the Chief Baron was sitting. The curtains were closely drawn, and
+in one of the windows the shutters were closed,--so sensitive to light
+was the old man in his periods of excitement. He lay back in a deep
+chair, his eyes closed, his face slightly flushed, breathing heavily,
+and the fingers of one hand twitching slightly at moments; the other was
+held by Beattie, as he counted the pulse. “Dip that handkerchief in the
+cold lotion, and lay it over his forehead,” whispered Beattie to Haire.
+
+“Speak out, sir; that muttering jars on my nerves, and irritates me,”
+ said the Judge, in a slow firm tone.
+
+“Come,” said Beattie, cheerfully, “you are better now; the weakness has
+passed off.”
+
+“There is no weakness in the case, sir,” said the old man, sitting bolt
+upright in the chair, as he grasped and supported himself by the arms.
+“It is the ignoble feature of your art to be materialist. You can see
+nothing in humanity but a nervous cord and a circulation.”
+
+“The doctor's ministry goes no further,” said Beattie, gently.
+
+“Your art is then but left-handed, sir. Where 's Haire?”
+
+“Here, at your side,” replied Haire.
+
+“I must finish my story, Haire. Where was it that I left off? Yes; to
+be sure,--I remember now. This boy of Sewell's--Reginald Victor
+Sewell--was, with my permission, to take the name of Lendrick, and be
+called Reginald Victor Sewell Lendrick.”
+
+“And become the head of your house?”
+
+“The head of my house, and my heir. She did not say so, but she could
+not mean anything short of it.”
+
+“What has your son done to deserve this?” asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+“My son's rights, sir, extend but to the modest fortune I inherited from
+my father. Whatever other property I possess has been acquired by my own
+ability and labor, and is mine to dispose of.”
+
+“I suppose there are other rights as well as those of the statute-book?”
+
+“Listen to this, Beattie,” cried the old Judge, with a sparkle of the
+eye,--“listen to this dialectician, who discourses to me on the import
+of a word. It is not generous I must say, to come down with all the
+vigor of his bright, unburdened faculties upon a poor, weak, and
+suffering object like myself. You might have waited, Haire, till I had
+at least the semblance of power to resist you.”
+
+“What answer did you give her?” asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+“I said,--what it is always safe to say,--'_Le roi s'avisera_.' Eh,
+Beattie? this is the grand principle of your own craft. Medicine is very
+little else than 'the wisdom of waiting.' I told her,” continued he, “I
+would think of it,--that I would see the child. 'He is here,' said she,
+rising and leaving the room, and in a few moments returned, leading a
+little boy by the hand,--a very noble-looking child, I will say, with
+a lofty head and a bold brow. He met me as might a prince, and gave
+his hand as though it were an honor he bestowed. What a conscious
+power there is in youth! Ay, sirs, that is the real source of all the
+much-boasted vigor and high-heartedness. Beattie will tell us some story
+of arterial action or nervous expansion; but the mystery lies deeper.
+The conscious force of a future development imparts a vigor that all the
+triumphs of after life pale before.”
+
+“'_Fiat justitia, ruât coelum_,'” said Haire,--“I'd not provide for
+people out of my own family.”
+
+“It is a very neat though literal translation, sir, and, like all that
+comes from you, pointed and forcible.”
+
+“I'd rather be fair and honest than either,” said Haire, bluntly.
+
+“I appeal to you, Beattie, and I ask if I have deserved this;” and the
+old Judge spoke with an air of such apparent sincerity as actually to
+impose upon the doctor. “The sarcasms of this man push my regard for him
+to the last intrenchment.”
+
+“Haire never meant it; he never intended to reflect upon you,” said
+Beattie, in a low tone.
+
+“He knows well enough that I did not,” said Haire, half sulky; for he
+thought the Chief was pushing his raillery too far.
+
+“I 'm satisfied,” said the Judge, with a sigh. “I suppose he can't help
+it. There are fencers who never believe they have touched you till they
+see the blood. Be it so; and now to go back. She went away and left the
+child with me, promising to take him up after paying a visit she had to
+make in the neighborhood. I was not sorry to have the little fellow's
+company. He was most agreeable, and, unlike Haire, he never made me his
+butt. Well, I have done; I will say no more on that head. I was actually
+sorry when she came to fetch him, and I believe I said so. What does
+that grunt mean, Haire?”
+
+“I did not speak.”
+
+“No, sir; but you uttered what implied an ironical assent,--a _nisi
+prius_ trick,--like the leer I have seen you bestow upon the jury-box.
+How hard it is for the cunning man to divest himself of the subtlety of
+his calling!”
+
+“I want to hear how it all ended,” muttered Haire.
+
+“You shall hear, sir, if you will vouchsafe me a little patience. When
+men are in the full vigor of their faculties, they should be tolerant
+to those footsore and weary travellers who, like myself, halt behind and
+delay the march. But bear in mind, Haire, I was not always thus. There
+was a time when I walked in the van. Ay, sir, and bore myself bravely
+too. I was talking with that child when they announced Mr. Balfour, the
+private secretary, a man most distasteful to me; but I told them to show
+him in, curious, indeed, to hear what new form of compromise they were
+about to propose to me. He had come with a secret and confidential
+message from the Viceroy, and really seemed distressed at having to
+speak before a child of six years old, so mysterious and reserved was
+he. He made a very long story of it,--full an hour; but the substance
+was this: The Crown had been advised to dispute my right of appointment
+to the registrarship, and to make a case for a jury; but--mark the
+'but'--in consideration for my high name and great services, and in
+deference to what I might be supposed to feel from an open collision
+with the Government, they were still willing for an accommodation, and
+would consent to ratify any appointment I should make, other than that
+of the gentleman I had already named,--Colonel Sewell.
+
+“Self-control is not exactly the quality for which my friends give me
+most credit. Haire, there, will tell you I am a man of ungovernable
+temper, and who never even tried to curb his passion; but I would
+hope there is some injustice in this award. I became a perfect dove
+in gentleness, as I asked Balfour for the reasons which compelled his
+Excellency to make my stepson's exclusion from office a condition. 'I am
+not at liberty to state them,' was the cool reply. 'They are personal,
+and, of course, delicate?' asked I, in a tone of submission, and he gave
+a half assent in silence. I concurred,--that is, I yielded the point. I
+went even further. I hinted, vaguely of course, at the courteous
+reserve by which his Excellency was willing to spare me such pain as an
+unpleasant disclosure--if there were such--might occasion me. I added,
+that old men are not good subjects for shocks; and I will say, sirs,
+that he looked at me as I spoke with a compassionate pity which won all
+my gratitude! Ay, Beattie, and though my veins swelled at the temples,
+and I felt a strange rushing sound in my ears, I had no fit, and in a
+moment or two was as calm as I am this instant.
+
+“'Let me be clear upon this point,' said I to him. 'I am to nominate to
+the office any one except Sewell, and you will confirm such nomination?'
+'Precisely,' replied he. 'Such act on my part in no way to prejudice
+whatever claim I lay to the appointment in perpetuity, or jeopardize
+any rights I now assert?' 'Certainly not,' said he. 'Write it,' said I,
+pushing towards him a pen and paper; and so overjoyed was he with his
+victorious negotiation that he wrote word for word as I dictated. When
+I came to the name Sewell, I added, 'To whose nomination his Excellency
+demurs, on grounds of character and conduct sufficient in his
+Excellency's estimation to warrant such exclusion; but which, out of
+deference to the Chief Baron's feelings, are not set forth in this
+negotiation.' 'Is this necessary?' asked he, as he finished writing. 'It
+is,' was my reply; 'put your name at foot, and the date;' and he did so.
+
+“I now read over the whole aloud; he winced at the concluding lines, and
+said, 'I had rather, with your permission, erase these last words; for
+though I know the whole story, and believe it too, there 's no occasion
+for entering upon it here.'
+
+“As he spoke, I folded the paper and placed it in my pocket. 'Now, sir,'
+said I, 'let _me_ hear the story you speak of.' 'I cannot. I told you
+before I was not at liberty to repeat it.' I insisted, and he refused.
+There was a positive altercation between us and he raised his voice in
+anger, and demanded back from me the paper which he said I had tricked
+him into writing. I will not say that he meant to use force, but he
+sprang from his chair and came towards me with such an air of menace
+that the boy, who was playing in the corner, rushed at him and struck
+him with his drumstick, saying, 'You sha'n't beat grandpapa!' I believe
+I rang the bell; yes, I rang the bell sharply. The child was crying when
+they came. I was confused and flurried. Balfour was gone.”
+
+“And the paper?” asked Haire.
+
+“The paper is here, sir,” said he, touching his breastpocket. “The
+country shall ring with it, or such submission shall I exact as will
+bring that Viceroy and his minions to my feet in abject contrition. Were
+you to ask me now, I know not what terms I would accept of.”
+
+“I would rather you said no more at present,” said Beattie. “You need
+rest and quietness.”
+
+“I need reparation and satisfaction, sir; that is what I need.”
+
+“Of course--of course; but you must be strong and well to enforce it,”
+ said Beattie.
+
+“I told Lady Lendrick to leave the child with me. She said she would
+bring him back to-morrow. I like the boy. What does my pulse say,
+Beattie?”
+
+“It says that all this talking and agitation are injurious to you,--that
+you must be left alone.”
+
+The old man sighed faintly, but did not speak.
+
+“Haire and I will take a turn in the garden, and be within call if you
+want us,” said Beattie.
+
+“Wait a moment,--what was it I had to say? You are too abrupt, Beattie;
+you snap the cords of thought by such rough handling, and we old men
+lose our dexterous knack of catching the loose ends, as we once did.
+There, there--leave me now; the skein is all tangled in hopeless
+confusion.” He waved his hand in farewell, and they left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LADY'S LETTER
+
+“Lucy asked me to show him this note from her brother,” said Haire, as
+he strolled with Beattie down the lawn. “It was no time to do so. Look
+over it and say what you advise.”
+
+“The boy wants a nurse, not a doctor,” said Beattie. “A little care and
+generous diet would soon bring him round; but they are a strange race,
+these Lendricks. They have all the stern qualities that brave danger,
+and they are terribly sensitive to some small wound to their self-love.
+Let that young fellow, for instance, only begin to feel that he is
+forgotten or an outcast, and he 'll droop at once. A few kind words, and
+a voice he loved, _now_, will do more than all my art could replace a
+little later.”
+
+“You mean that we ought to have him back here?” asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+“I mean that he ought to be where he can be carefully and kindly
+treated.”
+
+“I 'll tell the Chief you think so. I 'll say that you dropped the
+remark to myself, of course,--never meaning to dictate anything to
+_him_.”
+
+Beattie shook his head in sign of doubt.
+
+“I know him well, better perhaps than any one, and I know there's no
+more generous man breathing; but he must not be coerced,--he must not be
+even influenced, where the question be one for a decision. As he said to
+me one day, 'I want the evidence, sir, I don't want your speech to it.'”
+
+“There 's the evidence, then,” said Beattie,--“that note with its
+wavering letters, weak and uncertain as the fingers that traced
+them,--show him that. Say, if you like, that _I_ read it and thought
+the lad's case critical. If, after that, he wishes to talk to me on the
+subject, I 'm ready to state my opinion. If the boy be like his father,
+a few tender words and a little show of interest for him will be worth
+all the tonics that ever were brewed.”
+
+“It's the grandfather's nature too; but the world has never known
+it,--probably never will know it,” said Haire.
+
+“In that I agree with you,” said Beattie, dryly.
+
+“He regards it as a sort of weakness when people discover any act of
+generosity or any trait of kindliness about him; and do you know,” added
+he, confidentially, “I have often thought that what the world
+regarded as irritability and sharpness was nothing more nor less than
+shyness,--just shyness.”
+
+“I certainly never suspected that he was the victim of that quality.”
+
+“No, I imagine not. A man must know him as I do to-understand it. I
+remember one day, long, long ago, I went so far as to throw out a half
+hint that I thought he labored under this defect; he only smiled and
+said, 'You suspect me of diffidence. I am diffident,--no man more so,
+sir; but it is of the good or great qualities in other men.' Was n't
+that a strange reply? I never very clearly understood it,--do you?”
+
+“I suspect I do; but here comes a message to us.”
+
+Haire spoke a word with the servant, and then, turning: to Beattie,
+said: “He wants to see me. I 'll just step in, and be back in a moment.”
+
+Beattie promised not to leave till he returned, and strolled along
+by the side of a little brook which meandered tastefully through the
+greensward. He had fallen into a revery,--a curious inquiry within
+himself whether it were a boon or an evil for a man to have acquired
+that sort of influence over another mind which makes his every act and
+word seem praiseworthy and excellent. “I wonder is the Chief the better
+or the worse for this indiscriminating attachment? Does it suggest
+a standard to attain to, or does it merely minister to self-love and
+conceit? Which is it? which is it?” cried he, aloud, as he stood and
+gazed on the rippling rivulet beside him.
+
+“Shall I tell you?” said a low, sweet voice; and Lucy Lendrick slipped
+her arm within his as she spoke,--“shall I tell you, doctor?”
+
+“Do, by all means.”
+
+“A little of both, I opine. Mind,” said she, laughing, “I have not the
+vaguest notion of what you were balancing in your mind, but somehow
+I suspect unmixed good or evil is very rare, and I take my stand on a
+compromise. Am I right?”
+
+“I scarcely know, but I can't submit the case to you. I have an
+old-fashioned prejudice against letting young people judge their
+seniors. Let us talk of something else. What shall it be?”
+
+“I want to talk to you of Tom.”
+
+“I have just been speaking to Haire about him. We must get him back
+here, Lucy,--we really must.”
+
+“Do you mean here, in this house, doctor?”
+
+“Here, in this house. Come, don't shake your head, Lucy. I see the
+necessity for it on grounds you know nothing of. Lady Lendrick is
+surrounding your grandfather with her family, and I want Tom back here
+just that the Chief should see what a thorough Lendrick he is. If your
+grandfather only knew the stuff that's in him, he 'd be prouder of him
+than of all his own successes.”
+
+“No, no, no,--a thousand times no, doctor! It would never do,--believe
+me, it would never do. There are things which a girl may submit to in
+quiet obedience, which in a man would require subserviency. The Sewells,
+too, are to be here on Saturday, and who is to say what that may bring
+forth?”
+
+“She wrote to you,” said the doctor, with a peculiar significance in his
+voice.
+
+“Yes, a strange sort of note too; I almost wish I could show it to
+you,--I 'd so like to hear what you 'd say of the spirit of the writer.”
+
+“She told me she would write,” said he again, with a more marked meaning
+in his manner.
+
+“You shall see it,” said she, resolutely; “here it is;” and she drew
+forth the letter and handed it to him. For an instant she seemed as
+if about to speak, but suddenly, as if changing her mind, she merely
+murmured, “Read it, and tell me what you think of it.” The note ran
+thus:--
+
+“My dearest Lucy,--We are to meet to-morrow, and I hope and trust to
+meet like sisters who love each other. Let me make one brief explanation
+before that moment arrives. I cannot tell what rumors may have reached
+you of all that has happened here. I know nothing of what people say,
+nor have I the faintest idea how our life may have been represented. If
+you knew me longer and better, you would know that I neither make this
+ignorance matter of complaint nor regret. I have lived about long enough
+to take the world at its just value, and not to make its judgments of
+such importance as can impair my self-esteem and my comfort. It would,
+however, have been agreeable to me to have known what you may have heard
+of me--of us--as it is not impossible I might have felt the necessity to
+add something,--to correct something,--perhaps to deny something. I am
+now in the dark, and pray forgive me if I stumble rudely against you,
+where I only meant to salute you courteously.
+
+“You at least know the great disaster which befell here. Dr. Beattie
+has told you the story,--what more he may have said I cannot guess. If
+I were to wait for our meeting, I should not have to ask you. I should
+read it in your face, and hear it in every accent of your voice; but I
+write these few lines that you may know me at once in all frankness
+and openness, and know that if _you_ be innocent of _my_ secret, _I_ at
+least have _yours_ in my keeping. Yes, Lucy, I know all; and when I say
+all, I mean far more than you yourself know.
+
+“If I were treacherous, I would not make this avowal to you. I should be
+satisfied with the advantage I possessed, and employ it to my
+benefit. Perhaps with any other woman than yourself I should play this
+part,--with you I neither can nor will. I will declare to you frankly
+and at once, you have lost the game and I have won it. That I say this
+thus briefly, is because in amplifying I should seem to be attempting to
+explain what there is no explaining. That I say it in no triumph, my own
+conscious inferiority to you is the best guarantee. I never would have
+dreamed of a rivalry had I been a girl. It is because I cannot claim the
+prize I have won it. It is because my victory is my misery I have gained
+it. I think I know your nature well enough to know that you will bear me
+no ill-will. I even go so far as to believe I shall have your compassion
+and your sympathy. I need them more, far more, than you know of. I could
+tell you that had matters fallen out differently it would not have
+been to _your_ advantage, for there were obstacles--family
+obstacles--perfectly insurmountable. This is no pretence: on my honor I
+pledge to the truth of what I say. So long as I believed they might be
+overcome, I was in _your_ interest, Lucy. You will not believe me, will
+you, if I swear it? Will you if I declare it on my knees before you?
+
+“If I have not waited till we met to say these things, it is that we may
+meet with open hearts, in sorrow, but in sincerity. When I have told
+you everything, you will see that I have not been to blame. There may
+be much to grieve over, but there is nothing to reprehend--anywhere.
+And now, how is our future to be? It is for you to decide. I have not
+wronged you, and yet I am asking for forgiveness. Can you give me your
+love, and what I need as much, your pity? Can you forget your smaller
+affliction for the sake of my heavier one, for it is heavier?
+
+“I plead guilty to one only treachery; and this I stooped to, to avoid
+the shame and disgrace of an open scandal. I told his mother that,
+though Lucy was my name, it was yours also; and that you were the Lucy
+of all his feverish wanderings. Your woman's heart will pardon me this
+one perfidy.
+
+“She is a very dangerous woman in one sense. She has a certain position
+in the world, from which she could and would open a fire of slander on
+any one. She desires to injure me. She has already threatened, and she
+is capable of more than threatening. She says she will see Sir William.
+This she may not be able to do; but she can write to him. You know
+better than I do what might ensue from two such tempers meeting; for
+myself I cannot think of it.
+
+“I have written you a long letter, dear Lucy, when I only meant to have
+written five or six lines. I have not courage to read it over; were I
+to do so, I am sure I would never send it. Perhaps you will not thank
+me for my candor. Perhaps you will laugh at all my scrupulous
+honesty. Perhaps you will--no, that you never will--I mean, employ my
+trustfulness against myself.
+
+“Who knows if I have not given to this incident an importance which you
+will only smile at? There are people so rich that they never are aware
+if they be robbed. Are you one of these, Lucy? and, if so, will you
+forgive the thief who signs herself your ever-loving sister,
+
+“Lucy Skwell.
+
+“I have told Dr. Beattie I would write to you; he looked as if he knew
+that I might, or that I ought,--which is it? Doctors see a great deal
+more than they ought to see. The great security against them is, that
+they acquire an indifference to the sight of suffering, which, in
+rendering them callous, destroys curiosity, and then all ills that can
+neither be bled nor blistered they treat as trifles, and end by ignoring
+altogether. Were it otherwise,--that is, had they any touch of humanity
+in their nature,--they would be charming confidants, for they know
+everything and can go everywhere. If Beattie should be one of your pets,
+I ask pardon for this impertinence; but don't forget it altogether, as,
+one day or other, you will be certain to acknowledge its truth.
+
+“We arrive by the 4.40 train on Saturday afternoon. If I see you at the
+door when we drive up, I shall take it as a sign I am forgiven.”
+
+Beattie folded the letter slowly, and handed it to Lucy without a
+word. “Tell me,” said he, after they had walked on several seconds in
+silence,--“tell me, do you mean to-be at the door as she arrives?”
+
+“I think not,” said she, in a very low voice.
+
+“She has a humble estimate of doctors; but there is one touch of nature
+she must not deny them,--they are very sensitive about contagion. Now,
+Lucy, I wish with all my heart that you were not to be the intimate
+associate of this woman.”
+
+“So do I, doctor; but how is it to be helped?”
+
+He walked along silent and in deep thought.
+
+“Shall I tell you, doctor, how it can be managed, but only by your help
+and assistance? I must leave this.”
+
+“Leave the Priory! but for where?”
+
+“I shall go and nurse Tom: he needs _me_, doctor, and I believe I need
+_him_; that is, I yearn after that old companionship which made all my
+life till I came here--Come now, don't oppose this plan; it is only by
+your hearty aid it can ever be carried out. When you have told grandpapa
+that the thought is a good one, the battle will be more than half won.
+You see yourself I ought not to be here.”
+
+“Certainly not here with Mrs. Sewell; but there comes the grave
+difficulty of how you are to be lodged and cared for in that wild
+country where your brother lives?”
+
+“My dear doctor, I have never known pampering till I came here. Our life
+at home--and was it not happy!--was of the very simplest. To go back
+again to the same humble ways will be like a renewal of the happy past;
+and then Tom and I suit each other so well,--our very caprices are
+kindred. Do say you like this notion, and tell me you will forward it.”
+
+“The very journey is an immense difficulty.”
+
+“Not a bit, doctor; I have planned it all. From this to Marseilles
+is easy enough,--only forty hours; once there, I either go direct to
+Cagliari, or catch the Sardinian steamer at Genoa--”
+
+“You talk of these places as if they were all old acquaintances; but, my
+dear child, only fancy yourself alone in a foreign city. I don't speak
+of the difficulties of a new language.”
+
+“You might, though, my dear doctor. My French and Italian, which carry
+me on pleasantly enough with Racine and Ariosto, will expose me sadly
+with my 'commissionnaire.'”
+
+“But quite alone you cannot go,--that's certain.”
+
+“I must not take a maid, that's as certain; Tom would only send us both
+back again. If you insist, and if grandpapa insists upon it, I will take
+old Nicholas. He thinks it a great hardship that he has not been carried
+away over seas to see the great world; and all his whims and tempers
+that tortured us as children will only amuse us now; his very tyranny
+will be good fun.”
+
+“I declare frankly,” said the doctor, laughing, “I do not see how the
+difficulties of foreign travel are to be lessened by the presence of old
+Nicholas; but are you serious in all this?”
+
+“Perfectly serious, and fully determined on it, if I be permitted.”
+
+“When would you go?”
+
+“At once! I mean as soon as possible. The Sewells are to be here on
+Saturday. I would leave on Friday evening by the mail-train from London.
+I would telegraph to Tom to say on what day he might expect me.”
+
+“To-day is Tuesday; is it possible you could be ready?”
+
+“I would start to-night, doctor, if you only obtain my leave.”
+
+“It is all a matter of the merest chance how your grandfather will take
+it,” said Beattie, musing.
+
+“But _you_ approve? tell me you approve of it.”
+
+“There is certainly much in the project that I like. I cannot bear to
+think of your living here with the Sewells; my experience of them
+is very brief, but it has taught me to know there could be no worse
+companionship for you; but as these are things that cannot be spoken
+of to the Chief, let us see by what arguments we should approach him.
+I will go at once. Haire is with him, and he is sure to see that what I
+suggest has come from you. If it should be the difficulty of the journey
+your grandfather objects to, Lucy, I will go as far as Marseilles with
+you myself, and see you safely embarked before I leave you.”
+
+She took his hand and kissed it twice, but was not able to utter a word.
+
+“There, now, my dear child, don't agitate yourself; you need all your
+calm and all your courage. Loiter about here till I come to you, and it
+shall not be long.”
+
+“What a true, kind friend you are!” said she, as her eyes grew dim with
+tears. “I am more anxious about this than I like to own, perhaps.
+Will you, if you bring me good tidings, make me a signal with your
+handkerchief?”
+
+He promised this, and left her.
+
+Lucy sat down under a large elm-tree, resolving to wait there patiently
+for his return; but her fevered anxiety was such that she could not rest
+in one place, and was forced to rise and walk rapidly up and down.
+She imagined to herself the interview, and fancied she heard her
+grandfather's stern question,--whether she were not satisfied with her
+home? What could he do more for her comfort or happiness than he had
+done? Oh, if he were to accuse her of ingratitude, how should she bear
+it? Whatever irritability he might display towards others, to herself he
+had always been kind and thoughtful and courteous.
+
+She really loved him, and liked his companionship, and she felt that if
+in leaving him she should consign him to solitude and loneliness, she
+could scarcely bring herself to go; but he was now to be surrounded with
+others, and if they were not altogether suited to him by taste or habit,
+they would, even for their own sakes, try to conform to his ways and
+likings.
+
+Once more she bethought her of the discussion, and how it was faring.
+Had her grandfather suffered Beattie to state the case fully, and say
+all that he might in its favor? or had he, as was sometimes his wont,
+stopped him short with a peremptory command to desist? And then what
+part had Haire taken? Haire, for whose intelligence the old Judge
+entertained the lowest possible estimate, had somehow an immense
+influence over him, just as instincts are seen too strong for reason.
+Some traces of boyish intercourse yet survived and swayed his mind with
+his consciousness of its power.
+
+“How long it seems!” murmured she. “Does this delay augur ill for
+success, or is it that they are talking over the details of the plan?
+Oh, if I could be sure of that! My poor dear Tom, how I long to be
+near you--to care for you--and watch you!” and as she said this, a cold
+sickness came over her, and she muttered aloud: “What perfidy it all is!
+As if I was not thinking of myself, and my own sorrows, while I try to
+believe I am but thinking of my brother.” And now her tears streamed
+fast down her cheeks, and her heart felt as if it would burst. “It must
+be an hour since he left this,” said she, looking towards the house,
+where all was still and motionless. “It is not possible that they are
+yet deliberating. Grandpapa is never long in coming to a decision.
+Surely all has been determined on before this, and why does he not come
+and relieve me from my miserable uncertainty?”
+
+At last the hall door opened, and Haire appeared; he beckoned to her
+with his hand to come, and then re-entered the house. Lucy knew not what
+to think of this, and she could scarcely drag her steps along as she
+tried to hasten back. As she entered the hall, Haire met her, and,
+taking her hand cordially, said, “It is all right; only be calm, and
+don't agitate him. Come in now;” and with this she found herself in
+the room where the old Judge was sitting, his eyes closed and his whole
+attitude betokening sleep. Beattie sat at his side, and held one hand in
+his own. Lucy knelt down and pressed her lips to the other hand, which
+hung over the arm of the chair. Gently drawing away the hand, the old
+man laid it on her head, and in a low faint voice said: “I must not look
+at you, Lucy, or I shall recall my pledge. You are going away!”
+
+The young girl turned her tearful eyes towards him, and held her lips
+firmly closed to repress a sob, while her cheeks trembled with emotion.
+
+“Beattie tells me you are right,” continued he, with a sigh; and then,
+with a sort of aroused energy, he added; “But old age, amongst its other
+infirmities, fancies that right should yield to years. '_Ce sont les
+droits de la decrepitude_,' as La Rochefoucauld calls them. I will
+not insist upon my 'royalties,' Lucy, this time. You shall go to your
+brother.” His hand trembled as it lay on her head, and then fell heavily
+to his side. Lucy clasped it eagerly, and pressed it to her cheek, and
+all was silent for some seconds in the room.
+
+At last the old man spoke, and it was now in a clear distinct voice,
+though weak. “Beattie will tell you everything, Lucy; he has all my
+instructions. Let him now have yours. To-morrow we shall, both of us, be
+calmer, and can talk over all together. To-morrow will be Thursday?”
+
+“Wednesday, grandpapa.”
+
+“Wednesday,--all the better, my dear child; another day gained. I say,
+Beattie,” cried he in a louder tone, “I cannot have fallen into the
+pitiable condition the newspapers describe, or I could never have gained
+this victory over my selfishness. Come, sir, be frank enough to own that
+where a man combats himself, he asserts his identity. Haire will go out
+and give that as his own,” muttered he; and as he smiled, he lay back,
+his breathing grew heavier and longer, and he sank into a quiet sleep.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. SOME CONJUGAL COURTESIES
+
+“You have not told me what she wrote to you,” said Sewell to his wife,
+as he smoked his cigar at one side of the fire while she read a novel
+at the other. It was to be their last evening at the Nest; on the morrow
+they were to leave it for the Priory. “Were there any secrets in it, or
+were there allusions that I ought not to see?”
+
+“Not that I remember,” said she, carelessly.
+
+“What about our coming? Does the old man seem to wish for it?--how does
+she herself take it?”
+
+“She says nothing on the subject, beyond her regret at not being there
+to meet us.”
+
+“And why can't she?--where will she be?”
+
+“At sea, probably, by that time. She goes off to Sardinia to her
+brother.”
+
+“What! do you mean to that fellow who is living with Fossbrooke? Why did
+n't you tell me this before?”
+
+“I don't think I remembered it; or, if I did, it's possible I thought it
+could not have much interest for you.”
+
+“Indeed, Madam! do you imagine that the only things I care for are the
+movements of _your_ admirers? Where 's this letter? I 'd like to see
+it.”
+
+“I tore it up. She begged me to do so when I had read it.”
+
+“How honorable! I declare you ladies conduct your intercourse with an
+integrity that would be positively charming to think of if only your
+male friends were admitted to any share of the fair dealing. Tell me so
+much as you can remember of this letter.”
+
+“She spoke of her brother having had a fever, and being now better, but
+so weak and reduced as to require great care and attention, and obliged
+to remove for change of air to a small island off the coast.”
+
+“And Fossbrooke,--does she mention _him?_”
+
+“Only that he is not with her brother, except occasionally: his business
+detains him near Cagliari.”
+
+“I hope it may continue to detain him there! Has this-young woman gone
+off all alone on this journey?”
+
+“She has taken no maid. She said it might prove inconvenient to her
+brother; and has only an old family servant she calls Nicholas with
+her.”
+
+“So, then, we have the house to ourselves so far. She 'll not be in a
+hurry back, I take it. Anything would be better than the life she led
+with her grandfather.”
+
+“She seems sorry to part with him, and recurs three or four times to his
+kindness and affection.”
+
+“His kindness and affection! His vanity and self-love are nearer the
+mark. I thought I had seen something of conceit and affectation, but
+that old fellow leaves everything in that line miles behind. He is,
+without exception, the greatest bore and the most insupportable bully I
+ever encountered.”
+
+“Lucy liked him.”
+
+“She did not,--she could not. It suits you women to say these things,
+because you cultivate hypocrisy so carefully that you carry on the game
+with each other! How could any one, let her be ever so abject, like that
+incessant homage this old man exacted,--to be obliged to be alive to his
+vapid jokes and his dreary stories, to his twaddling reminiscences of
+college success or House of Commons--Irish House too--triumphs? Do
+you think if I wasn't a beggar I 'd go and submit myself to such a
+discipline?”
+
+To this she made no reply, and for a while there was a silence in the
+room. At last he said, “_You'll_ have to take up that line of character
+that _she_ acted. _You'll_ have to 'swing the incense' now. I'll be shot
+if _I_ do.”
+
+She gave no answer, and he went on: “You 'll have to train the brats
+too to salute him, and kiss his hand and call him--what are they to call
+him--grandpapa? Yes, they must say grandpapa. How I wish I had not sent
+in my papers! If I had only imagined I could have planted you all here,
+I could have gone back to my regiment and served out my time.”
+
+“It might have been better,” said she, in a low voice.
+
+“Of course it would have been better; each of us would have been
+free, and there are few people, be it said, take more out of their
+freedom,--eh, Madam?”
+
+She shrugged her shoulders carelessly, but a slight, a very slight,
+flush colored her cheek.
+
+“By the way, now we're on that subject, have you answered Lady
+Trafford's letter?”
+
+“Yes,” said she; and now her cheek grew crimson.
+
+“And what answer did you send?”
+
+“I sent back everything.”
+
+“What do you mean?--your rings and trinkets, the bracelet with the
+hair--mine, of course,--it could be no one's but mine.”
+
+“All, everything,” said she, with a gulp.
+
+“I must read the old woman's letter over again. You have n't burnt
+_that_, I hope?”
+
+“No; it's upstairs in my writing-desk.”
+
+“I declare,” said he, rising and standing with his back to the fire,
+“you women, and especially fine ladies, say things to each other that
+men never would dare to utter to other men. That old dame, for
+instance, charged you with what we male creatures have no equivalent
+for,--cheating at play would be mild in comparison.”
+
+“I don't think that _you_ escaped scot-free,” said she, with an intense
+bitterness, though her tone was studiously subdued and low.
+
+“No,” said he, with a jeering laugh. “I figured as the accessory or
+accomplice, or whatever the law calls it. I was what polite French
+ladies call _le mari complaisant_,--a part I am so perfect in, Madam,
+that I almost think I ought to play it for my Benefit.' What do you say?”
+
+“Oh, sir, it is not for me to pass an opinion on your abilities.”
+
+“I have less bashfulness,” said he, fiercely. “I 'll venture to say a
+word on _yours_. I 've told you scores of times--I told you in India,
+I told you at the Cape, I told you when we were quarantined at Trieste,
+and I tell you now--that you never really captivated any man much under
+seventy. When they are tottering on to the grave, bald, blear-eyed, and
+deaf, you are perfectly irresistible; and I wish--really I say it in all
+good faith--you would limit the sphere of your fascinations to such very
+frail humanities. Trafford only became spooney after that smash on the
+skull; as he grew better, he threw off his delusions,--did n't he?”
+
+“So he told me,” said she, with perfect calm.
+
+“By Jove! that was a great fluke of mine,” cried he, aloud. “That was a
+hazard I never so much as tried. So that this fellow had made some sort
+of a declaration to you?”
+
+“I never said so.”
+
+“What was it then that you _did_ say, Madam? Let us understand each
+other clearly.”
+
+“Oh, I am sure we need no explanations for that,” said she, rising, and
+moving towards the door.
+
+“I want to hear about this before you go,” said he, standing between her
+and the door.
+
+“You are not going to pretend jealousy, are you?” said she, with an easy
+laugh.
+
+“I should think not,” said he, insolently. “That is about one of the
+last cares will ever rob me of my rest at night. I 'd like to know,
+however, what pretext I have to send a ball through your young friend.”
+
+“Oh, as to that peril, it will not rob _me_ of a night's rest,” said
+she, with such a look of scorn and contempt as seemed actually to sicken
+him, for he staggered back as though about to fall and she passed out
+ere he could recover himself.
+
+“It is to be no quarter between us then! Well, be it so,” cried he, as
+he sank heavily into a seat. “She's playing a bold game when she goes
+thus far.” He leaned his head on the table, and sat thus so long that he
+appeared to have fallen asleep; indeed, the servant who came to tell
+him that tea was served, feared to disturb him, and retired without
+speaking. Far from sleeping, however, his head was racked with a
+maddening pain, and he kept on muttering to himself, “This is the second
+time--the second time she has taunted me with cowardice. Let her beware!
+Is there no one will warn her against what she is doing?”
+
+“Missis says, please, sir, won't you have a cup of tea?” said the maid
+timidly at the door.
+
+“No; I'll not take any.”
+
+“Missis says too, sir, that Miss Blanche is tuk poorly, and has a
+shiverin' over her, and a bad headache, and she hopes you 'll send in
+for Dr. Tobin.”
+
+“Is she in bed?”
+
+“Yes, sir, please.”
+
+“I'll go up and see her;” and with this he arose and passed up the
+little stair that led to the nursery. In one bed a little dark-haired
+girl of about three years old lay fast asleep; in the adjoining bed a
+bright blue-eyed child of two years or less lay wide awake, her cheeks
+crimson, and the expression of her features anxious and excited. Her
+mother was bathing her temples with cold water as Sewell entered, and
+was talking in a voice of kind and gentle meaning to the child.
+
+“That stupid woman of yours said it was Blanche,” said Sewell,
+pettishly, as he gazed at the little girl.
+
+“I told her it was Cary; she has been heavy all day, and eaten nothing.
+No, pet,--no, darling,” said she, stooping over the sick child, “pa is
+not angry; he is only sorry that little Cary is ill.”
+
+“I suppose you'd better have Tobin to see her,” said he, coldly. “I 'll
+tell George to take the tax-cart and fetch him out. It's well it was n't
+Blanche,” muttered he, as he sauntered out of the room. His wife's eyes
+followed him as he went, and never did a human face exhibit a stronger
+show of repressed passion than hers, as, with closely compressed lips
+and staring eyes, she watched him as he passed out.
+
+“The fool frightened me,--she said it was Blanche,” were the words he
+continued to mutter as he went down the stairs.
+
+Tobin arrived in due time, and pronounced the case not serious,--a mere
+feverish attack that only required a day or two of care and treatment.
+
+“Have you seen Colonel Sewell?” said Mrs. Sewell, as she accompanied the
+doctor downstairs.
+
+“Yes; I told him just what I 've said to you.”
+
+“And what reply did he make?”
+
+“He said, 'All right! I have business in town, and must start to-morrow.
+My wife and the chicks can follow by the end of the week.'”
+
+“It's so like him!--so like him!” said she, as though the pent-up
+passion could no longer be restrained.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL. MR. BALFOUR'S OFFICE
+
+On arriving in Dublin, Sewell repaired at once to Balfour's office in
+the Castle yard; he wanted to “hear the news,” and it was here that
+every one went who wanted to “hear the news.” There are in all cities,
+but more especially in cities of the second order, certain haunts where
+the men about town repair; where, like the changing-houses of bankers,
+people exchange their “credits,”--take up their own notes, and give up
+those of their neighbors.
+
+Sewell arrived before the usual time when people dropped in, and found
+Balfour alone and at breakfast. The Under-Secretary's manner was dry, so
+much Sewell saw as he entered; he met him as though he had seen him the
+day before, and this, when men have not seen each other for some time,
+has a certain significance. Nor did he ask when he had come up, nor
+in any way recognize that his appearance was matter of surprise or
+pleasure.
+
+“Well, what's going on here?” said Sewell, as he flung himself into an
+easy-chair, and turned towards the fire. “Anything new?”
+
+“Nothing particular. I don't suppose you care for the Cattle Show or the
+Royal Irish Academy?”
+
+“Not much,--at least, I can postpone my inquiries about them. How about
+my place here? Are you going to give me trouble about it?”
+
+“Your place,--your place?” muttered the other, once or twice; and then,
+standing up with his back to the fire, and his skirts over his arms,
+he went on. “Do you want to hear the truth about this affair, or are we
+only to go on sparring with the gloves, eh?”
+
+“The truth, of course, if such a novel proceeding should not be too much
+of a shock to you.”
+
+“No, I suspect not. I do a little of everything every day just to keep
+my hand in.”
+
+“Well, go on now, out with this truth.”
+
+“Well, the truth is,--I am now speaking confidentially,--if I were you I
+'d not press my claim to that appointment,--do you perceive?”
+
+“I do not; but perhaps I may when you have explained yourself a little
+more fully.”
+
+“And,” continued he, in the same tone, and as though no interruption had
+occurred, “that's the opinion of Halkett, and Doyle, and Jocelyn, and
+the rest.”
+
+“Confidentially, of course,” said Sewell, with a sneer so slight as not
+to be detected.
+
+“I may say confidentially, because it was at dinner we talked it
+over, and we were only the household,--no guests but Byam Herries and
+Barrington.”
+
+“And you all agreed?”
+
+“Yes, there was not a dissentient voice but Jocelyn's, who said, if he
+were in your place, he'd insist on having all the papers and letters
+given up to him. His view is this: 'What security have I that the same
+charges are not to be renewed again and again? I submit now, but am I
+always to submit? Are my Indian'--(what shall I call them? I forget what
+he called them; I believe it was escapades)--'my Indian escapades to
+declare me unfit to hold anything under the Crown?' He said a good deal
+in that strain, but we did not see it. It was hard, to be sure, but we
+did not see it. As Halkett said, 'Sewell has had his innings already in
+India. If, with a pretty wife and a neat turn for billiards, he did not
+lay by enough to make his declining years comfortable, I must say that
+he was not provident.' Doyle, however, remarked that after that affair
+with Loftus up at Agra--wasn't it Agra?”--Sewell nodded--“it was n't
+so easy for you to get along as many might think, and that you were
+a devilish clever fellow to do what you had done. Doyle likes you,
+I think.” Sewell nodded again, and, after a slight pause, Balfour
+proceeded: “And it was Doyle, too, said, 'Why not try for something in
+the colonies? There are lots of places a man can go and nothing be ever
+heard of him. If I was Sewell, I 'd say, Make me a barrackmaster in the
+Sandwich Islands, or a consul in the Caraccas.'
+
+“They all concurred in one thing, that you never did so weak a thing in
+your whole life as to have any dealings with Trafford. It was his mother
+went to the Duke--ay, into the private office at the Horse Guards--and
+got Clifford's appointment cancelled, just for a miserable five hundred
+pounds Jack won off the elder brother,--that fellow who died last year
+at Madeira. She's the most dangerous woman in Europe. She does not care
+what she says, nor to whom she says it. She 'd go up to the Queen at a
+drawing-room and make a complaint as soon as she 'd speak to you or
+me. As it is, she told their Excellencies here all that went on in your
+house, and I suppose scores of things that did not go on either, and
+said, 'And are you going to permit this man to be'--she did not remember
+what, but she said--'a high official under the Crown? and are you going
+to receive his wife amongst your intimates?' What a woman she is! To
+hear her you 'd think her 'dear child,' instead of being a strapping
+fellow of six feet two, was a brat in knickerbockers, with a hat and
+feather. The fellow himself must be a consummate muff to be bullied
+by her; but then the estate is not entailed, they say, and there's a
+younger brother may come into it all. His chances look well just now,
+for Lionel has got a relapse, and the doctors think very ill of him.”
+
+“I had not heard that,” said Sewell, calmly.
+
+“Oh, he was getting on most favorably,--was able to sit up at the
+window, and move a little about the room,--when, one morning Lady
+Trafford had driven over to the Lodge to luncheon, he stepped downstairs
+in his dressing-gown as he was, got into a cab, and drove off into the
+country. All the cabman could tell was that he ordered him to take the
+road to Rathfarnham, and said, 'I 'll tell you by and by where to;' and
+at last he said, 'Where does Sir William Lendrick live?' and though the
+man knew the Priory, he had taken a wrong turn and got down to ask
+the road. Just at this moment a carriage drove by with two grays and a
+postilion--A young lady was inside with an elderly gentleman, and the
+moment Trafford saw her he cried out, 'There she is,--that is she!' As
+hard as they could they hastened after; but they smashed a trace, and
+lost several minutes in repairing it, and as many more in finding out
+which way the carriage had taken. It was to Kingstown, and, as the
+cabman suspected, to catch the packet for Holyhead; for just as they
+drove up, the steamer edged away from the pier, and the carriage with
+the grays drove off with only the old man, Trafford fell back in a
+faint, and appeared to have continued so, for when they took him out of
+the cab at Bilton's he was insensible.
+
+“Beattie says he'll come through it, but Maclin thinks he 'll never be
+the same man again; he 'll have a hardening or a softening--which is
+it?--of the brain, and that he'll be fit for nothing.”
+
+“Except a place in the viceregal household, perhaps. I don't imagine you
+want gold-medallists for your gentlemen-in-waiting?”
+
+“We have some monstrous clever fellows, let me tell you. Halkett made
+a famous examination at Sandhurst, and Jocelyn wrote that article in
+'Bell's Life,' 'The Badger Drawn at Last.'”
+
+“To come back to where we were, how are you to square matters with the
+Chief Baron? Are you going to law with him about this appointment, or
+are you about to say that _I_ am the objection? Let me have a definite
+answer to this question.”
+
+“We have not fully decided; we think of doing either, and we sometimes
+incline to do both. At all events, we are not to have it; that's the
+only thing certain.”
+
+“Have you got a cigar? No, not these things; I mean something that can
+be smoked.”
+
+“Try this,” said Balfour, offering his case.
+
+“They 're the same as those on the chimney. I must say, Balfour, the
+traditional hospitalities of the Castle are suffering in their present
+hands. When I dined here the last time I was in town, they gave me two
+glasses of bad sherry and one glass of a corked Gladstone; and I came
+to dinner that day after reading in Barrington all about the glorious
+festivities of the Irish Court in the olden days of Richmond and
+Bedford.”
+
+“Lady Trafford insists that your names--your wife's as well as your
+own--are to be scratched from the dinner-list. Sir Hugh has three votes
+in the House, and she bullies us to some purpose, I can tell you. I
+can't think how you could have made this woman so much your enemy. It is
+not dislike,--it is hatred.”
+
+“Bad luck, I suppose,” said Sewell, carelessly.
+
+“She seems so inveterate too; she'll not give you up, very probably.”
+
+“Women generally don't weary in this sort of pursuit.”
+
+“Couldn't you come to some kind of terms? Couldn't you contrive to let
+her know that you have no designs on her boy? You've won money of him,
+have n't you?”
+
+“I have some bills of his,--not for a very large amount, though; you
+shall have them a bargain.”
+
+“I seldom speculate,” was the dry rejoinder.
+
+“You are right; nor is this the case to tempt you.”
+
+“They 'll be paid, I take it?”
+
+“Paid! I'll swear they shall!” said Sewell, fiercely. “I'll stand a deal
+of humbug about dinner invitations, and cold salutations, and such-like;
+but none, sir, not one, about what touches a material interest.”
+
+“It's not worth being angry about,” said Balfour, who was really glad to
+see the other's imperturbability give way.
+
+“I'm not angry. I was only a little impatient, as a man may be when he
+hears a fellow utter a truism as a measure of encouragement. Tell your
+friends--I suppose I must call them your friends--that they make an
+egregious mistake when they push a man like me to the wall. It is
+intelligible enough in a woman to do it; women don't measure their
+malignity, nor their means of gratifying it; but _men_ ought to know
+better.”
+
+“I incline to think I'll tell my 'friends' nothing whatever on the
+subject.”
+
+“That's as you please; but remember this,--if the day should come that
+I need any of these, details you have given me this morning, I'll quote
+them, and you too, as their author; and if I bring an old house about
+your ears, look out sharp for a falling chimney-pot! You gave me a piece
+of advice awhile ago,” continued he, as he put on his hat before the
+glass, and arranged his necktie. “Let me repay you with two, which you
+will find useful in their several ways: Don't show your hand when
+you play with as shrewd men as myself; and, Don't offer a friend such
+execrable tobacco as that on the chimney;” and with this he nodded and
+strolled out, humming an air as he crossed the Castle yard and entered
+the city.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI. THE PRIORY IN ITS DESERTION
+
+The old Judge was very sad after Lucy's departure from the Priory. While
+she lived there they had not seen much of each other, it is true.
+They met at meal-times, and now and then Sir William would send up
+the housekeeper to announce a visit from him; but there is a sense of
+companionship in the consciousness that under the same roof with you
+dwells one upon whose affection you can draw, whose sympathy will be
+with you in your hour of need; and this the old man now felt to be
+waiting; and he wandered restlessly about the house and the garden,
+tenacious to see that nothing she liked or loved was threatened with any
+change, and repeating to all that she must find everything as she left
+it when she came back again.
+
+Sewell had been recalled to the country by the illness of his child, and
+they were not expected at the Priory for at least a week or two longer.
+Haire had gone on circuit, and even Beattie the Judge only saw hurriedly
+and at long intervals. With Lady Lendrick he had just had a most angry
+correspondence, ending in one of those estrangements which, had they
+been nations instead of individuals, would have been marked by the
+recall of their several envoys, but which they were satisfied to
+signalize by an order at the Priory gate-lodge not to admit her
+Ladyship's carriage, and an equally determined command at Merrion Square
+for the porter to take in no letters that came from the Chief Baron.
+
+Lest the world should connect this breach with any interest in my story,
+I may as well declare at once the incident had no possible bearing upon
+it. It was a little episode entirely self-contained, and consisted
+in Lady Lendrick having taken advantage of Sir William's illness and
+confinement to house to send for and use his carriage-horses,--a liberty
+which he resented by a most furious letter, to which the rejoinder
+begot another infinitely more sarcastic,--the correspondence ending by
+a printed notice which her Ladyship received in an envelope, that the
+Chief Baron's horses would be sold on the ensuing Saturday at Dycer's to
+the highest bidder, his Lordship having no further use for them.
+
+Let me own that the old Judge was sincerely sorry when this incident
+was concluded. So long as the contest lasted, while he was penning his
+epistle or waiting for the reply, his excitement rallied and sustained
+him. He used to sit after the despatch of one of his cutting letters
+calculating with himself the terror and consternation it produced, just
+as the captain of a frigate might have waited with eager expectancy
+that the smoke might drift away and show him the shattered spars or the
+yawning bulwarks of his enemy. But when his last missive was returned
+unopened, and the messenger reported that the doctor's carriage was at
+her Ladyship's door as he came away, the Judge collapsed at once, and
+all the dreariness of his deserted condition closed in upon him.
+
+Till Sewell returned to-town, Sir William resolved not to proceed
+farther with respect to the registrarship. His plan, long determined
+upon, was to induct him into the office, administer the oaths, and
+leave him to the discharge of the duties. The scandal of displacing an
+official would, he deemed, be too great a hazard for any government
+to risk. At all events, if such a conflict came, it would be a great
+battle, and with the nation for spectators.
+
+“The country shall ring with it,” was the phrase he kept repeating
+over and over as he strolled through his neglected garden or his leafy
+shrubberies; but as he plodded along, alone and in silence, the dreary
+conviction would sometimes shoot across his mind that he had run his
+race, and that the world had wellnigh forgotten him. “In a few days
+more,” sighed he out, “it will be over, and I shall be chronicled as
+the last of them.” And for a moment it would rally him to recall
+the glorious names with which he claimed companionship, and compare
+them--with what disparagement!--with the celebrities of the time.
+
+It was strange how bright the lamp of intellect would shine out as the
+wick was fast sinking in the socket. His memory would revive some stormy
+scene in the House, some violent altercation at the Bar, and all the
+fiery eloquence of passion would recur to him, stirring his heart and
+warming his blood, till he half forgot his years, and stood forth, with
+head erect and swelling chest, strong with a sense of power and a whole
+soul full of ambition.
+
+“Beattie would not let me take my Circuit,” would he say. “I wish he
+saw me to-day. Decaying powers! I would tell them that the Coliseum
+is grander in its ruin than all their stuccoed plastering in its trim
+propriety. Had he suffered me to go, the grand jury would have heard
+a charge such as men's ears have not listened to since Avonmore!
+Avon-more! what am I saying?--Yelverton had not half my law, nor a tenth
+part of my eloquence.”
+
+In his self-exaltation he began to investigate whether he was greater as
+an advocate or as prosecutor. How difficult to decide! After all, it
+was in the balance of the powers thus displayed that he was great as a
+judge. He recalled the opinions of the press when he was raised to the
+bench, and triumphantly asked aloud, had he not justified every hope and
+contradicted every fear that was entertained of him? “Has my learning
+made me intolerant, or my brilliancy led me into impatience? Has the
+sense of superiority that I possess rendered me less conciliatory? Has
+my 'impetuous genius'--how fond they were of that phrase!--carried me
+away into boundless indiscretions? and have I, as one critic said, so
+concentrated the attention of the jury on myself that the evidence went
+for nothing and the charge was everything?”
+
+It was strange how these bursts of inordinate vanity and self-esteem
+appeared to rally and invigorate the old man, redressing, as it were,
+the balance of the world's injustice--such he felt it--towards him. They
+were like a miser's hoard, to be counted and re-counted in secret with
+that abiding assurance that he had wealth and riches, however others
+might deem him poor.
+
+It was out of these promptings of self-love that he drew the energetic
+powers that sustained him, broken and failing and old as he was.
+
+Carried on by his excited thoughts, he strayed away to a little mound,
+on which, under a large weeping-ash, a small bench was placed, from
+which a wide view extended over the surrounding country. There was a
+tradition of a summer-house on the spot in Curran's day, and it was
+referred to more than once in the diaries and letters of his friends;
+and the old Chief loved the place, as sacred to great memories.
+
+He had just toiled up the ascent, and gained the top, when a servant
+came to present him with a card and a letter, saying that the gentleman
+who gave them was then at the house. The card bore the name, “Captain
+Trafford,--th Regiment.” The letter was of a few lines, and ran thus:--
+
+“My dear Sir William,--I had promised my friend and late patient Captain
+Trafford to take him over to the Priory this morning and present him to
+you. A sudden call has, however, frustrated the arrangement; and as
+his time is very brief, I have given him this as a credential to your
+acquaintance, and I hope you will permit him to stroll through the
+garden and the shrubberies, which he will accept as a great favor.
+I especially beg that you will lay no burden on your own strength to
+become his entertainer: he will be amply gratified by a sight of
+your belongings, of which he desires to carry the memory beyond
+seas.--Believe me very sincerely yours,
+
+“J. Beattie.”
+
+“If the gentleman who brought this will do me the favor to come up here,
+say I shall be happy to see him.”
+
+As the servant went on his message, the old man lay back on his seat,
+and, closing his eyes, muttered some few dropping words, implying his
+satisfaction at this act of reverential homage. “A young soldier too;
+it speaks well for the service when the men of action revere the men of
+thought. I am glad it is a good day with me; he shall carry away other
+memories than of woods and streams. Ah! here he comes.”
+
+Slowly, and somewhat feebly, Trafford ascended the hill, and with a most
+respectful greeting approached the Judge.
+
+“I thank you for your courtesy in coming here, sir,” said the Chief;
+“and when we have rested a little, I will be your _Cicerone_ back to the
+house.” The conversation flowed on pleasantly between them, Sir William
+asking where Traflford had served, and what length of time he had been
+in Ireland,--his inquiries evidently indicating that he had not heard of
+him before, or, if he had, had forgotten him.
+
+“And now you are going to Malta?”
+
+“Yes, my Lord; we sail on the 12th.”
+
+“Well, sir, Valetta has no view to rival that. See what a noble sweep
+the bay takes here, and mark how well the bold headlands define the
+limits! Look at that stretch of yellow beach, like a golden fillet round
+the sea; and then mark the rich woods waving in leafy luxuriance to
+the shore! Those massive shadows are to landscape what times of silent
+thought are to our moral natures. Do you like your service, sir?”
+
+“Yes, my Lord; there is much in it that I like. I would like it all if
+it were in 'activity.'”
+
+“I have much of the soldier in myself, and the qualities by which I
+have gained any distinction I have won are such as make generals,--quick
+decision, rapid intelligence, prompt action.”
+
+Traflford bowed to this pretentions summary, but did not speak.
+
+The old Judge went on to describe what he called the military
+mind, reviewing in turn the generals of note from Hannibal down to
+Marlborough. “What have they left us by way of legacy, sir? The game,
+lost or won, teaches us as much! Is not a letter of Cicero, is not an
+ode of Horace worth it all? And as for battle-fields, it is the painter,
+not the warrior, has made them celebrated. Wouvermans has done more for
+war than Turenne!”
+
+“But, my Lord, there must be a large number of men like myself who make
+very tolerable soldiers, but who would turn out sorry poets or poor
+advocates.”
+
+“Give me your arm now, and I will take you round by the fish-pond and
+show you where the 'Monks of the Screw' held their first meeting. You
+have heard of that convivial club?” Trafiford bowed; and the Judge went
+on to tell of the strange doings of those grave and thoughtful men,
+who-deemed no absurdity too great in their hours of distraction and
+levity. When they reached the house, the old man was so fatigued that
+he had to sit down in the porch to rest. “You have seen all, sir; all I
+have of memorable. You say you 'd like to see the garden, but there is
+not a memory connected with it. See it, however, by all means; saunter
+about till I have rallied a little, and then join me at my early dinner.
+I 'll send to tell you when it is ready. I am sorry it will be such
+a lonely meal; but she who could have thrown sunshine over it is
+gone--gone!” And he held his hands over his face, and said no more.
+Trafiford moved silently away, and went in search of the garden. He
+soon found the little wicket, and ere many minutes was deep in the leafy
+solitude of the neglected spot. At last he came upon the small gate
+in the laurel hedge, passing through which he entered the little
+flower-garden. Yes, yes; there was no doubting it! This was hers! Here
+were the flowers she tended; here the heavy bells from which she emptied
+the rain-drops; here the tendrils her own hands had trained! Oh, force
+of love, that makes the very ground holy, and gives to every leaf and
+bud an abiding value! He threw himself upon the sward and kissed it.
+There was a little seat under a large ilex--how often had she sat there
+thinking!--could it be thinking over the days beside the Shannon,--that
+delicious night they came back from Holy Island, the happiest of all his
+life? Oh, if he could but believe that she loved him! if he could only
+know that she did not think of him with anger and resentment!--for
+she might! Who could tell what might have been said of his life at the
+Sewells'? He had made a confidante of one who assumed to misunderstand
+him, and who overwhelmed him with a confession of her own misery, and
+declared she loved him; and this while he lay in a burning fever, his
+head racked with pain, and his mind on the verge of wandering. Was
+there-ever a harder fate than his? That he had forfeited the affection
+of his family, that he had wrecked his worldly fortunes, seemed little
+in his eyes to the danger of being thought ill of by her he loved.
+
+His father's last letter to him had been a command to leave the army and
+return home, to live there as became the expectant head of the house.
+“I will have your word of honor to abandon this ignoble passion”--so he
+called his love; “and in addition, your solemn pledge never to marry an
+Irishwoman.” These words were, he well knew, supplied by his mother. It
+had been the incessant burden of her harangues to him during the tedious
+days of his recovery; and even when, on the morning of this very day,
+she had been suddenly recalled to England by a severe attack of illness
+of her husband, her last act before departure was to write a brief note
+to Lionel, declaring that if he should not follow her within a week, she
+would no longer conceive herself bound to maintain his interests against
+those of his more obedient and more affectionate brother.
+
+“Won't that help my recovery, doctor?” said he, showing the kind and
+generous epistle to Beattie. “Are not these the sort of tonic stimulants
+your art envies?”
+
+Beattie shook his head in silence, and after a long pause said, “Well,
+what was your reply to this?”
+
+“Can you doubt it? Don't you know it; or don't you know _me?_”
+
+“Perhaps I guess.”
+
+“No, but you are certain of it, doctor. The regiment is ordered to
+Malta, and sails on the 12th. I go with them! Holt is a grand old place,
+and the estate is a fine one; I wish my brother every luck with both.
+Will you do me a favor,--a great favor?”
+
+“If in my power, you may be certain I will. What is it?”
+
+“Take me over to the Priory; I want to see it. You can find some pretext
+to present me to the Chief Baron, and obtain his leave to wander through
+the grounds.”
+
+“I perceive--I apprehend,” said Beattie, slyly. “There is no difficulty
+in this. The old Judge cherishes the belief that the spot is little
+short of sacred; he only wonders why men do not come as pilgrims to
+visit it. There is a tradition of Addison having lived there, while
+secretary in Ireland; Curran certainly did; and a greater than either
+now illustrates the locality.”
+
+It was thus that Trafford came to be there; with what veneration for the
+haunts of genius let the reader picture to himself!
+
+“His Lordship is waiting dinner, sir,” said a servant, abruptly, as he
+sat there--thinking, thinking; and he arose and followed the man to the
+house.
+
+The Chief Baron had spent the interval since they parted in preparing
+for the evening's display. To have for his guest a youth so imbued
+with reverence for Irish genius and ability, was no common event. Young
+Englishmen and soldiers, too, were not usually of this stuff; and the
+occasion to make a favorable impression was not to be lost.
+
+When he entered the dinner-room, Trafford was struck by seeing that
+the table was laid for three, though they were but two; and that on the
+napkin opposite to where he sat a small bouquet of fresh flowers was
+placed.
+
+“My granddaughter's place, sir,” said the old Judge, as he caught his
+eye. “It is reserved for her return. May it be soon!”
+
+How gentle the old man's voice sounded as he said this, and how
+kindly his eyes beamed! Trafford thought there was something actually
+attractive in his features, and wondered he had not remarked it before.
+
+Perhaps on that day when the old Judge well knew how agreeable he was,
+what stores of wit and pleasantry he was pouring forth, his convictions
+assured him that his guest was charmed. It was a very pardonable
+delusion,--he talked with great brilliancy and vigor. He possessed the
+gift--which would really seem to be the especial gift of Irishmen of
+that day--to be a perfect relater. To a story he imparted that slight
+dash of dramatic situation and dialogue that made it lifelike, and yet
+never retarded the interest nor prolonged the catastrophe. Acute as was
+his wit, his taste was fully as conspicuous, never betraying him for an
+instant, so long as his personal vanity could be kept out of view.
+
+Trafford's eager and animated attention showed with what pleasure he
+listened; and the Chief, like all men who love to talk and know they
+talk well, talked all the better for the success vouchsafed to him. He
+even arrived at that stage of triumph in which he felt that his guest
+was no common man, and wondered if England really turned out many young
+fellows of this stamp,--so well read, so just, so sensible, so keenly
+alive to nice distinction, and so unerring in matters of taste.
+
+“You were schooled at Rugby, sir, you told me; and Rugby has reason
+to be proud if she can turn out such young men. I am only sorry Oxford
+should not have put the fine edge on so keen an intellect.”
+
+Trafford blushed at a compliment he felt to be so unmerited, but the old
+man saw nothing of his confusion,--he was once again amongst the great
+scenes and actors of his early memories.
+
+“I hope you will spare me another day before you leave Ireland. Do you
+think you could give me Saturday?” said the Chief, as his guest arose to
+take leave.
+
+“I am afraid not, my Lord; we shall be on the march by that day.”
+
+“Old men have no claim to use the future tense, or I should ask you to
+come and see me when you come back again.”
+
+“Indeed will I. I cannot thank you enough for having asked me.”
+
+“Why are there not more young men of that stamp?” said the old Judge,
+as he looked after him as he went. “Why are they not more generally
+cultivated and endowed as he is? It is long since I have found one more
+congenial to me in every way. I must tell Beattie I like his friend. I
+regret not to see more of him.”
+
+It was in this strain Sir William ruminated and reflected; pretty much
+like many of us, who never think our critics so just or so appreciative
+as when they applaud ourselves.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII. NECESSITIES OP STATE
+
+It is, as regards views of life and the world, a somewhat narrowing
+process to live amongst sympathizers; and it may be assumed as an axiom,
+that no people so much minister to a man's littleness as those who pity
+him.
+
+Now, when Lady Lendrick separated from Sir William, she carried away
+with her a large following of sympathizers. The Chief Baron was well
+known; his haughty overbearing temper at the bar, his assuming attitude
+in public life, his turn for sarcasm and epigram, had all contributed to
+raise up for him a crowd of enemies; and these, if not individually well
+disposed to Lady Lendrick, could at least look compassionately on one
+whose conjugal fate had been so unfortunate. All _her_ shortcomings were
+lost sight of in presence of _his_ enormities, for the Chief Baron's
+temper was an Aaron's rod of irascibility, which devoured every other;
+and when the verdict was once passed, that “no woman could live with
+him,” very few women offered a word in his defence.
+
+It is just possible that if it had not been for this weight in the
+opposite scale, Lady Lendrick herself would not have stood so high. Sir
+William's faults, however, were accounted to her for righteousness,
+and she traded on a very pretty capital in consequence. Surrounded by a
+large circle of female friends, she lived in a round of those charitable
+dissipations by which some people amuse themselves; and just as dull
+children learn their English history through a game, and acquire their
+geography through a puzzle, these grown-up children take in their
+Christianity by means of deaf and dumb bazaars, balls for blind
+institutions, and private theatricals for an orphan asylum. This
+devotion, made easy to the lightest disposition, is not, perhaps, a
+bad theory,--at least, it does not come amiss to an age which likes to
+attack its gravest ills in a playful spirit, to treat consumption with
+cough lozenges, and even moderate the excesses of insanity by soft
+music. There is another good feature, too, in the practice: it furnishes
+occupation and employment to a large floating class which,' for the
+interest and comfort of society, it is far better should be engaged in
+some pursuit, than left free to the indulgence of censorious tastes and
+critical habits. Lady Lendrick lived a sort of monarch amongst
+these. She was the patroness of this, the secretary of that, and
+the corresponding member of some other society. Never was an active
+intelligence more actively occupied; but she liked it all, for she liked
+power, and, strange as it may seem, there is in a small way an
+exercise of power even in these petty administrations. Loud, bustling,
+overbearing, and meddlesome, she went everywhere, and did everything.
+The only sustaining hope of those she interfered with was that she was
+too capricious to persist in any system of annoyance, and was prone
+to forget to-day the eternal truths she had propounded for reverence
+yesterday.
+
+I am not sure that she conciliated--I am not sure that she would have
+cared for--much personal attachment; but she had what certainly she
+did like, a large following of very devoted supporters. All her little
+social triumphs--and occasionally she had such--were blazoned abroad by
+those people who loved to dwell on the courtly attentions bestowed
+upon their favorite, what distinguished person had taken her “down” to
+dinner, and the neat compliment that the Viceroy paid her on the taste
+of her “tabinet.”
+
+It need scarcely be remarked that the backwater of all this admiration
+for Lady Lendrick was a swamping tide of ill-favor for her husband. It
+would have been hard to deny him ability and talent. But what had he
+made of his ability and talent? The best lawyer of the bar was not even
+Chief-Justice of the Queen's Bench. The greatest speaker and scholar of
+his day was unknown, except in the reminiscences of a few men almost
+as old as himself. Was the fault in himself, or was the disqualifying
+element of his nature the fact of being an Irishman? For a number of
+years the former theory satisfied all the phenomena of the case, and
+the restless, impatient disposition--irritable, uncertain, and almost
+irresponsible--seemed reason enough to deter the various English
+officials who came over from either seeking the counsels or following
+the suggestions of the bold Baron of the Exchequer. A change, however,
+had come, in pail; induced by certain disparaging articles of the
+English press as to the comparative ability of the two countries; and
+now it became the fashion to say that had Sir William been born on
+the sunnier side of St. George's Channel, and had his triumphs been
+displayed at Westminster instead of the Four Courts, there would have
+been no limit to the praise of his ability as a lawyer, nor any delay in
+according him the highest honors the Crown could bestow.
+
+Men shook their heads, recalled the memorable “curse” recorded by Swift,
+and said, “Of course there is no favor for an Irishman.” It is not the
+place nor the time to discuss this matter here. I would only say that
+a good deal of the misconception which prevails upon it is owing to the
+fact that the qualities which win all the suffrages of one country are
+held cheaply enough in the other. Plodding unadorned ability, even of
+a high order, meets little favor in Ireland, while on the other side
+of the Channel Irish quickness is accounted as levity, and the rapid
+appreciation of a question without the detail of long labor and thought,
+is set down as the lucky hit of a lively but very idle intelligence.
+I will not let myself wander away further in this digression, but come
+back to my story. Connected with this theory of Irish depreciation, was
+the position that but for the land of his birth Sir William would have
+been elevated to the peerage.
+
+Of course it was a subject to admit of various modes of telling,
+according to the tastes, the opportunities, and the prejudices of the
+tellers. The popular version of the story, however, was this: that Sir
+William declined to press a claim that could not have been resisted,
+on account of the peculiarly retiring, unambitious character of him
+who should be his immediate successor. His very profession--adopted
+and persisted in, in despite of his father's wish--was a palpable
+renunciation of all desire for hereditary honor. As the old Judge said,
+“The _Libro d, Oro_ of nobility is not the Pharmacopoeia;” and the
+thought of a doctor in the peerage might have cost “Garter” a fit of
+apoplexy.
+
+Sir William knew this well,--no man better; but the very difficulties
+gave all the zest and all the flavor to the pursuit. He lived, too, in
+the hope that some Government official might have bethought him of this
+objection, that he might spring on him, tiger-like, and tear him in
+fragments.
+
+“Let them but tell me this,” muttered he, “and I will rip up the whole
+woof, thread by thread, and trace them! The noble duke whose ancestor
+was a Dutch pedler, the illustrious marquess whose great-grandfather was
+a smuggler, will have to look to it. Before this cause be called on I
+would say to them, better to retain me for the Crown! Ay, sirs, such is
+my advice to you.”
+
+While these thoughts agitated Sir William's mind, the matter of them
+was giving grave and deep preoccupation to the Viceroy. The Cabinet had
+repeatedly pressed upon him the necessity of obtaining the Chief Baron's
+retirement from the bench,--a measure the more imperative that while
+they wanted to provide for an old adherent, they were equally anxious to
+replace him in the House by an abler and readier debater; for so is it,
+when dulness stops the way, dulness must be promoted,--just as the most
+tumble-down old hackney-coach must pass on before my Lord's carriage can
+draw up.
+
+“Pemberton must go up,” said the Viceroy. “He made a horrid mess of that
+explanation t' other night in the House. His law was laughed at, and
+his logic was worse; he really must go on the bench. Can't you hit upon
+something, Balfour? Can you devise nothing respecting the Chief Baron?”
+
+“He 'll take nothing but what you won't give him; I hear he insists on
+the peerage.”
+
+“I'd give it, I declare,--I 'd give it to-morrow. As I told the Premier
+t' other day, Providence always takes care that these law lords have
+rarely successors. They are life peerages and no more; besides, what
+does it matter a man more or less in 'the Lords'? The peer without
+hereditary rank and fortune is like the officer who has been raised from
+the ranks,--he does not dine at mess oftener than he can help it.”
+
+Balfour applauded the illustration, and resolved to use it as his own.
+
+“I say again,” continued his Excellency, “I'd give it, but they won't
+agree with me; they are afraid of the English bar,--they dread what the
+benchers of Lincoln's Inn would say.”
+
+“They'd only say it for a week or two,” mumbled Balfour.
+
+“So I remarked: you'll have discontent, but it will be passing. Some
+newspaper letters will appear, but Themis and Aristides will soon tire,
+and if they should not, the world who reads them will tire; and probably
+the only man who will remember the event three months after will be the
+silversmith who is cresting the covered dishes of the new creation. You
+think you can't go and see him, Balfour?”
+
+“Impossible, my Lord, after what occurred between us the last time.”
+
+“I don't take it in that way. I suspect he 'll not bear any malice.
+Lawyers are not thin-skinned people; they give and take such hard knocks
+that they lose that nice sense of injury other folks are endowed with. I
+think you might go.”
+
+“I 'd rather not, my Lord,” said he, shaking his head.
+
+“Try his wife, then.”
+
+“They don't live together. I don't know if they're on speaking terms.”
+
+“So much the better,--she'll know every chink of his armor, and perhaps
+tell us where he is vulnerable. Wait a moment. There has been some talk
+of a picnic on Dalkey Island. It was to be a mere household affair. What
+if you were to invite her?--making of course the explanation that it was
+a family party, that no cards had been sent out; in fact, that it was to
+be so close a thing the world was never to hear of it.”
+
+“I think the bait would be irresistible, particularly when she found out
+that all her own set and dear friends had been passed over.”
+
+“Charge her to secrecy,--of course she'll not keep her word.”
+
+“May I say we 'll come for her? The great mystery will be so perfectly
+in keeping with one of the household carriages and your Excellency's
+liveries.”
+
+“Won't that be too strong, Balfour?” said the Viceroy, laughing.
+
+“Nothing is too strong, my Lord, in this country. They take their
+blunders neat as they do their sherry, and I'm sure that this part of
+the arrangement will, in the gossip it will give rise to, be about the
+best of the whole exploit.”
+
+“Take your own way, then; only make no such mistake as you made with
+the husband. No documents, Balfour,--no documents, I beg;” and with
+this warning laughingly given, but by no means so pleasantly taken, his
+Excellency went off and left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII. MR. BALFOUR'S MISSION
+
+Lady Lendrick was dictating to her secretary, Miss Morse, the Annual
+Report of the “Benevolent Ballad-Singers' Aid Society,” when her servant
+announced the arrival of Mr. Cholmondely Balfour. She stopped abruptly
+short at a pathetic bit of description,--“The aged minstrel, too old
+for erotic poetry, and yet debarred by the stern rules of a repressive
+policy from the strains of patriotic song,”--for, be it said
+parenthetically, Lady Lendrick affected “Irishry” to a large
+extent,--and, dismissing Miss Morse to an adjoining room, she desired
+the servant to introduce Mr. Balfour.
+
+Is it fancy, or am I right in supposing that English officials have a
+manner specially assumed for Ireland and the Irish,--a thing like the
+fur cloak a man wears in Russia, or the snowshoes he puts on in Lapland,
+not intended for other latitudes, but admirably adapted for the locality
+it is made for? I will not insist that this theory of mine is faultless,
+but I appeal to a candid public of my own countrmen if they have not
+in their experience seen what may support it. I do not say it is a bad
+manner,--a presuming manner,--a manner of depreciation towards these it
+is used to, or a manner indicative of indifference in him who uses it. I
+simply say that they who employ it keep it as especially for Ireland as
+they keep their macintosh capes for wet weather, and would no more think
+of displaying it in England than they would go to her Majesty's levee in
+a shooting-jacket. Mr. Balfour was not wanting in this manner. Indeed,
+the Administration of which he formed a humble part were all proficients
+in it. It was a something between a mock homage and a very jocular
+familiarity, so that when he arose after a bow, deep and reverential
+enough for the presence of majesty, he lounged over to a chair and threw
+himself down with the ease and unconcern of one perfectly at home.
+
+“And how is my Lady? and how are the fourscore and one associations for
+turnkeys' widows and dog-stealers' orphans doing? What 's the last new
+thing in benevolence? Do tell me, for I 've won five shillings at loo,
+and want to invest it.”
+
+“You mean you have drawn your quarter's salary, Mr. Balfour.”
+
+“No, by Jove; they don't pay us so liberally. We have the run of our
+teeth and no more.”
+
+“You forget your tongue, sir; you are unjust.”
+
+“Why, my Lady, you are as quick as Sir William himself; living with that
+great wit has made you positively dangerous.”
+
+“I have not enjoyed over-much of the opportunity you speak of.”
+
+“Yes, I know that; no fault of yours, though. The world is agreed on
+that point. I take it he's about the most impossible man to live with
+the age has yet produced. Sewell has told me such things of him!--things
+that would be incredible if I had not seen him.”
+
+“I beg pardon for interrupting, but of course you have not come to
+dilate on the Chief Baron's defects of temper to his wife.”
+
+“No, only incidentally,--parenthetically, as one may say,--just as one
+knocks over a hare when he's out partridge-shooting.”
+
+“Never mind the hare, then, sir; keep to your partridges.”
+
+“My partridges! my partridges! which are my partridges? Oh, to be sure!
+I want to talk to you about Sewell. He has told you perhaps how ill we
+have behaved to him,--grossly, shamefully ill, I call it.”
+
+“He has told me that the Government object to his having this
+appointment, but he has not explained on what ground.”
+
+“Neither can I. Official life has its mysteries, and, hate them as one
+may, they must be respected; he ought n't to have sold out,--it was
+rank folly to sell out. What could he have in the world better than
+a continued succession of young fellows fresh from home, and knowing
+positively nothing of horse-flesh or billiards?”
+
+“I don't understand you, sir,--that is, I hope I misunderstand you,”
+ said she, haughtily.
+
+“I mean simply this, that I'd rather be a lieutenant-colonel with such
+opportunities than I 'd be Chairman of the Great Overland.”
+
+“Opportunities--and for what?”
+
+“For everything,--for everything; for game off the balls, on every race
+in the kingdom, and as snug a thing every night over a devilled kidney
+as any man could wish for. Don't look shocked,--it's all on the square;
+that old hag that was here last week would have given her diamond
+ear-rings to find out something against Sewell, and she could n't.”
+
+“You mean Lady Trafford?”
+
+“I do. She stayed a week here just to blacken his character, and she
+never could get beyond that story of her son and Mrs. Sewell.”
+
+“What story? I never heard of it.”
+
+“A lie, of course, from beginning to end; and it's hard to imagine that
+she herself believed it.”
+
+“But what was it?”
+
+“Oh, a trumpery tale of young Trafford having made love to Mrs. Sewell,
+and proposed to run off with her, and Sewell having played a game at
+écarté on it, and lost,--the whole thing being knocked up by Trafford's
+fall. But you must have heard it! The town talked of nothing else for a
+fortnight.”
+
+“The town never had the insolence to talk of it to _me_.”
+
+“What a stupid town! If there be anything really that can be said to be
+established in the code of society, it is that you may say anything
+to anybody about their relations. But for such a rule how could
+conversation go on?--who travels about with his friend's family-tree
+in his pocket? And as to Sewell,--I suppose I may say it,--he has not a
+truer friend in the world than myself.”
+
+She bowed a very stiff acknowledgment of the speech, and he went on: “I
+'m not going to say he gets on well with his wife,--but who does? Did
+you ever hear of him who did? The fact I take to be this, that every one
+has a certain capital of good-nature and kindliness to trade on, and he
+who expends this abroad can't have so much of it for home consumption;
+that's how your insufferable husbands are such charming fellows for the
+world! Don't you agree with me?”
+
+A very chilling smile, that might mean anything, was all her reply.
+
+“I was there all the time,” continued he, with unabated fluency. “I
+saw everything that went on: Sewell's policy was what our people call
+non-intervention; he saw nothing, heard nothing, believed nothing; and
+I will say there 's a great deal of dignity in that line; and when your
+servant comes to wake you in the morning, with the tidings that your
+wife has run away, you have established a right before the world to be
+distracted, injured, overwhelmed, and outraged to any extent you may
+feel disposed to appear.”
+
+“Your thoughts upon morals are, I must say, very edifying, sir.”
+
+“They 're always practical, so much I will say. This world is a
+composite sort of thing, with such currents of mixed motives running
+through it, if a man tries to be logical he is sure to make an ass of
+himself, and one learns at last to become as flexible in his opinions
+and as elastic as the great British constitution.
+
+“I am delighted with your liberality, sir, and charmed with your candor;
+and as you have expressed your opinion so freely upon my husband and my
+son, would it appear too great a favor if I were to ask what you would
+say of myself?”
+
+“That you are charming, Lady Lendrick,--positively charming,”
+ replied he, rapturously. “That there is not a grace of manner, nor
+a captivation, of which you are not mistress; that you possess that
+attraction which excels all others in its influence; you render all who
+come within the sphere of your fascination so much your slaves that the
+cold grow enthusiastic, the distrustful become credulous, and even
+the cautious reserve of office gives way, and the well-trained private
+secretary of a Viceroy betrays himself into indiscretions that would
+half ruin an aide-de-camp.”
+
+“I assure you, sir, I never so much as suspected my own powers.”
+
+“True as I am here; the simple fact is, I have come to say so.”
+
+“You have come to say so! What do you mean?”
+
+With this he proceeded to explain that her Excellency had deputed him
+to invite Lady Lendrick to join the picnic on the island. “It was
+so completely a home party, that, except himself and a few of the
+household, none had even heard of it. None but those really intimate
+will be there,” said he; “and for once in our lives we shall be able
+to discuss our absent friends with that charming candor that gives
+conversation its salt. When we had written down all the names, it was
+her Excellency said, 'I 'd call this perfect if I could add one more to
+the list.' 'I'll swear I know whom you mean,' said his Excellency; and
+he took his pencil and wrote a line on a card. 'Am I right?' asked he.
+She nodded, and said, 'Balfour, go and ask her to come. Be sure you
+explain what the whole thing is, how it was got up, and that it must not
+be talked of.' Of course, do what one will, these things do get about.
+Servants will talk of them, and tradespeople talk of them, and we must
+expect a fair share of ill-nature and malice from that outer world which
+was not included in the civility; but it can't be helped. I believe it's
+one of the conditions of humanity, that to make one man happy you may
+always calculate on making ten others miserable.”
+
+This time Lady Lendrick had something else to think of besides Mr.
+Balfour's ethics, and so she only smiled and said nothing.
+
+“I hope I 'm to bring back a favorable answer,” said he, rising to take
+leave. “Won't you let me say that we 're to call for you?”
+
+“I really am much flattered. I don't know how to express my grateful
+sense of their Excellencies' recollection of me. It is for Wednesday,
+you say?”
+
+“Yes, Wednesday. We mean to leave town by two o'clock, and there will be
+a carriage here for you by that hour. Will that suit you?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“I am overjoyed at my success. Good-bye till Wednesday, then.” He moved
+towards the door, and then stopped. “What was it? I surely had something
+else to say. Oh, to be sure, I remember. Tell me, if you can, what are
+Sir William's views about retirement: he is not quite pleased with us
+just now, and we can't well approach him; but we really would wish to
+meet his wishes, if we could manage to come at them.” All this he said
+in a sort of careless, easy way, as though it were a matter of little
+moment, or one calling for very slight exercise of skill to set right.
+
+“And do you imagine he has taken me into his confidence, Mr. Balfour?”
+ asked she, with a smile.
+
+“Not formally, perhaps,--not what we call officially; but he may have
+done so in that more effective way termed 'officiously.'”
+
+“Not even that. I could probably make as good a guess about your own
+future intentions as those of the Chief Baron.”
+
+“You have heard him talk of them?”
+
+“Scores of times.”
+
+“And in what tone,--with what drift?”
+
+“Always as that of one very ill-used, hardly treated, undervalued, and
+the like.”
+
+“And the remedy? What was the remedy?”
+
+“To make him a peer,--at least, so his friends say.”
+
+“But taking that to be impossible, what next?”
+
+“He becomes 'impossible' also,” said she, laughing.
+
+“Are we to imagine that a man of such intelligence as he possesses
+cannot concede something to circumstances,--cannot make allowances for
+the exigencies of 'party,'--cannot, in fact, take any other view of a
+difficulty but the one that must respond to his own will?”
+
+“Yes; I think that is exactly what you are called on to imagine. You
+are to persuade yourself to regard this earth as inhabited by the Chief
+Baron, and some other people not mentioned specifically in the census.”
+
+“He is most unreasonable, then.”
+
+“Of course he is; but I wouldn't have you tell him so. You see, Mr.
+Balfour, the Chief imagines all this while that he is maintaining and
+upholding the privileges of the Irish Bar. The burden of his song is,
+'There would have been no objection to my claim had I been the Chief
+Baron of the English Court.'”
+
+“Possibly,” murmured Balfour; and then, lower again, “Fleas are not--”
+
+“Quite true,” said she, for her quick ear caught his words,--“quite
+true. Fleas are not lobsters,--bless their souls! But, as I said before,
+I 'd not remind them of that fact. 'The Fleas' are just sore enough upon
+it already.”
+
+Balfour for once felt some confusion. He saw what a slip he had made,
+and now it had damaged his whole negotiation. Nothing but boldness would
+avail now, and he resolved to be bold.
+
+“There is a thing has been done in England, and I don't see why we might
+not attempt it in the present case. A great lawyer there obtained a
+peerage for his wife--”
+
+She burst out into a fit of laughter at this, at once so hearty and so
+natural that at last he could not help joining, and laughing too.
+
+“I must say, Mr. Balfour,” said she, as soon as she could speak,--“I
+must say there is ingenuity in your suggestion. The relations that
+subsist between Sir William and myself are precisely such as to
+recommend your project.”
+
+“I am not so sure that they are obstacles to it. I have always heard
+that he had a poor opinion of his son, who was a common-place sort of
+man that studied medicine. It could be no part of the Chief Baron's plan
+to make such a person the head of a house. Now, he likes Sewell, and he
+dotes on that boy,--the little fellow I saw at the Priory. These are all
+elements in the scheme. Don't you think so?”
+
+“Let me ask you one question before I answer yours: Does this thought
+come from yourself alone, or has it any origin in another quarter?”
+
+“Am I to be candid?”
+
+“You are.”
+
+“And are _you_ to be confidential?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“In that case,” said he, drawing a long breath, as though about to
+remove a perilous weight off his mind, “I will tell you frankly, it
+comes from authority. Now, don't ask me more,--not another question. I
+have already avowed what my instructions most imperatively forbid me
+to own,--what, in fact, would be ruin to me if it were known that I
+revealed. What his Excellency--I mean, what the other person said
+was, 'Ascertain Lady Lendrick's wishes on this subject; learn, if you
+can,--but, above all, without compromising yourself,--whether she really
+cares for a step in rank; find out, if so, what aid she can or will lend
+us.' But what am I saying? Here am I entering upon the whole detail?
+What would become of me if I did not know I might rely upon you?”
+
+“It's worth thinking over,” said she, after a pause.
+
+“I should think it is. It is not every day of our lives such a brilliant
+offer presents itself. All I ask, all I stipulate for, is that you make
+no confidences, ask no advice from any quarter. Think it well over in
+your own mind, but impart it to none, least of all to Sewell.”
+
+“Of course not to _him_,” said she, resolutely, for she knew well to
+what purposes he would apply the knowledge.
+
+“Remember that we want to have the resignation before Parliament
+meets,--bear that in mind. Time is all-important with us; the rest will
+follow in due course.” With this he said “Good-bye,” and was gone.
+
+“The rest will follow in due course,” said she to herself, repeating his
+last words as he went. “With your good leave, Mr. Balfour, the 'rest'
+shall precede the beginning.”
+
+Was n't it Bolingbroke that said constitutional government never could
+go on without lying,--audacious lying too? If the old Judge will only
+consent to go, her Ladyship's peerage will admit of a compromise. Such
+was Mr. Balfour's meditation as he stepped into his cab.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV. AFTER-DINNER THOUGHTS
+
+Her Majesty's--th had got their orders for Malta, and some surmised
+for India, though it was not yet known; but all agreed it was
+hard,--“confoundedly hard,” they called it. “Had n't they had their turn
+of Inidan service?--how many years had that grim old major passed in the
+Deccan,--what weary winters had the bronzed bald captain there spent at
+Rangoon!”
+
+How they inveighed against the national niggardliness that insisted on
+making a small army do the work of a large one! How they scouted the
+popular idea that regiments were treated alike and without favoritism!
+_They_ knew better. They knew that if they had been the Nine Hundred and
+Ninth, or Three Thousand and First, there would have been no thought of
+sending them back to cholera and jungle fever. Some, with a little sly
+flattery, ascribed the order to their efficiency, and declared that they
+had done their work so well at Gonurshabad, the Government selected them
+at once when fresh troubles were threatening; and a few old grumblers,
+tired of service, sick of the Horse Guards,--not over-enamored of
+even life,--agreed that it was rank folly to join a regiment where the
+Lieutenant-Colonel was not a man of high connections; as they said, “If
+old Cave there had been a Lord George or even an Honorable, we 'd have
+had ten years more of home service.”
+
+With the exception of two or three raw subalterns who had never been out
+of England, and who wanted the glory of pig-sticking and the brevet
+to tell tiger stories, there were gloom and depression everywhere. The
+financially gifted complained that as they had all or nearly all
+bought their commissions, there was no comparison between the treatment
+administered to them and to officers in any foreign army; and such as
+knew geography asked triumphantly whether a Frenchman, who could be only
+sent to Africa, or an Austrian, whose most remote banishment was the
+“Banat,” was in the same position as an unfortunate Briton, who could be
+despatched to patrol the North Pole to-day, and to-morrow relieve guard
+at New Zealand? By a unanimous vote it was carried that the English
+army was the worst paid, hardest worked, and most ill-treated service in
+Europe; but the roast-beef played just at the moment, and they went in
+to dinner.
+
+As the last bars of that prandial melody were dying away, two men
+crossed the barrack-yard towards the mess-house. They were in close
+confabulation, and although evidently on their way to dinner, showed by
+their loitering pace how much more engrossed they were by the subject
+that engaged them than by any desire for the pleasures of the table.
+They were Colonel Cave and Sewell.
+
+“I can scarcely picture to my mind as great a fool as that,” said
+Sewell, angrily. “Can you?”
+
+“I don't know,” said Cave, slowly and doubtingly. “First of all, I never
+was heir to a large estate; and, secondly, I was never, that I remember,
+in love.”
+
+“In love! in fiddlestick. Why, he has not seen the girl this year and
+half; he scarcely knows her. I doubt greatly if she cares a straw for
+him; and for a caprice--a mere caprice--to surrender his right to a fine
+fortune and a good position is absolute idiocy; but I tell you more,
+Cave, though worse--far worse.” Here his voice grew harsh and grating,
+as he continued: “When I and other men like me played with Trafford, we
+betted with the man who was to inherit Holt. When I asked the fellow to
+my house, and suffered a certain intimacy--for I never liked him--it was
+because he represented twelve thousand a year in broad acres. I 'd
+stand a good deal from a man like that, that I 'd soon pull another up
+for,--eh?”
+
+The interrogative here puzzled Cave, who certainly was not a concurring
+party to the sentiment, and yet did not want to make it matter of
+discussion.
+
+“We shall be late,--we've lost our soup already,” said he, moving more
+briskly forward.
+
+“I 'd no more have let that fellow take on him, as he did under my roof,
+than I 'd sufifer him to kennel his dogs in my dressing-room. You
+don't know--you can't know--how he behaved.” These words were spoken in
+passionate warmth, and still there was that in the speaker's manner that
+showed a want of real earnestness; so it certainly seemed to Cave, who
+secretly determined to give no encouragement to further disclosures.
+
+“There are things,” resumed Sewell, “that a man can't speak on,--at
+least, he can only speak of them when they become the talk of the town.”
+
+“Come along, I want my dinner. I'm not sure I have not a guest, besides,
+who does not know any of our fellows. I only remembered him this
+instant. Is n't this Saturday?”
+
+“One thing I 'll swear,--he shall pay me every shilling he owes me, or
+he does not sail with the regiment. I 'll stand no nonsense of renewals;
+if he has to sell out for it, he shall book up. You have told him, I
+hope, he has nothing to expect from my forbearance?”
+
+“We can talk this all over another time. Come along now,--we 're very
+late.”
+
+“Go on, then, and eat your dinner; leave me to my cigar--I 've no
+appetite. I 'll drop in when you have dined.”
+
+“No, no; you shall come too,--your absence will only make fellows talk;
+they are talking already.”
+
+“Are they? and in what way?” asked he, sternly.
+
+“Nothing seriously, of course,” mumbled Cave, for he saw how he had
+fallen into an indiscretion; “but you must come, and you must be
+yourself too. It's the only way to meet flying rumors.”
+
+“Come along, then,” said Sewell, passing his arm within the other's; and
+they hurried forward without another word being spoken by either.
+
+It was evident that Sewell's appearance caused some surprise. There was
+a certain awkward significance in the way men looked at him and at each
+other that implied astonishment at his presence.
+
+“I didn't know you were down here,” said the old Major, making an
+involuntary explanation of his look of wonderment.
+
+“Nothing very remarkable, I take it, that a man is stopping at his own
+house,” said Se well, testily. “No--no fish. Get me some mutton,” added
+he to the mess-waiter.
+
+“You have heard that we 've got our orders,” said a captain opposite
+him.
+
+“Yes; Cave told me.”
+
+“I rather like it,--that is, if it means India,” said a very
+young-looking ensign.
+
+Sewell put up his eye-glass and looked at the speaker, and then, letting
+it drop, went on with his dinner without a word.
+
+“There 's no man can tell you more about Bengal than Colonel Sewell
+there,” said Cave, to some one near him. “He served on the staff there,
+and knows every corner of it.”
+
+“I wish I did n't, with all my heart. It's a sort of knowledge that
+costs a man pretty dearly.”
+
+“I 've always been told India was a capital place,” said a gay,
+frank-looking young lieutenant, “and that if a man did n't drink, or
+take to high play, he could get on admirably.”
+
+“Nor entangle himself with a pretty woman,” added another.
+
+“Nor raise a smashing loan from the Agra Bank,” cried a third.
+
+“You are the very wisest young gentlemen it has ever been my privilege
+to sit down with,” said Sewell, with a grin. “Whence could you have
+gleaned all these prudent maxims?”
+
+“I got mine,” said the Lieutenant, “from a cousin. Such a good fellow
+as he was! He always tipped me when I was at Sandhurst, but he's past
+tipping any one now.”
+
+“Dead?”
+
+“No; I believe it would be better he were; but he was ruined
+in India,--'let in' on a race, and lost everything, even to his
+commission.”
+
+“Was his name Stanley?”
+
+“No, Stapyleton,--Frank Stapyleton,--he was in the Grays.”
+
+“Sewell, what are you drinking?” cried Cave, with a loudness that
+overbore the talk around him. “I can't see you down there. You 've got
+amongst the youngsters.”
+
+“I am in the midst of all that is agreeable and entertaining,” said
+Sewell, with a smile of most malicious meaning. “Talk of youngsters,
+indeed! I'd like to hear where you could match them for knowledge of
+life and mankind.”
+
+There was certainly nothing in his look or manner as he spoke these
+words that suggested distrust or suspicion to those around him, for they
+seemed overjoyed at his praise, and delighted to hear themselves called
+men of the world. The grim old Major at the opposite side of the table
+shook his head thoughtfully, and muttered some words to himself.
+
+“They 're a shady lot, I take it,” said a young captain to his neighbor,
+“those fellows who remain in India, and never come home; either they
+have done something they can't meet in England, or they want to do
+things in India they couldn't do here.”
+
+“There's great truth in that remark,” said Sewell. “Captain Neeves, let
+us have a glass of wine together. I have myself seen a great deal to
+bear out your observation.”
+
+Neeves colored with pleasure at this approval, and went on: “I heard of
+one fellow--I forget his name--I never remember names; but he had a very
+pretty wife, and all the fellows used to make up to her, and pay her
+immense attention, and the husband rooked them all at écarté, every man
+of them.”
+
+“What a scoundrel!” said Sewell, with energy. “You ought to have
+preserved the name, if only for a warning.”
+
+“I think I can get it, Colonel. I 'll try and obtain it for you.”
+
+“Was it Moorcroft?” cried one.
+
+“Or Massingbred?” asked another.
+
+“I'll wager a sovereign it was Dudgeon; wasn't it Dudgeon?”
+
+But no; it was none of the three. Still, the suggestions opened a whole
+chapter of biographical details, in which each of these worthies vied
+with the other. No man ever listened to the various anecdotes narrated
+with a more eager interest than Sewell. Now and then, indeed, a slight
+incredulity--a sort of puzzled astonishment that the world could be so
+very wicked, that there really were such fellows--would seem to distract
+him; but he listened on, and even occasionally asked an explanation
+of this or of that, to show the extreme attention he vouchsafed to the
+theme.
+
+To be sure, their attempts to describe the way some trick was played
+with the cards or the dice, how the horse was “nobbled” or the match
+“squared,” were neither very remarkable for accuracy nor clearness. They
+had not been well “briefed,” as lawyers say, or they had not mastered
+their instructions. Sewell, however, was no captious critic; he took
+what he got, and was thankful.
+
+When they arose from the table, the old Major, dropping behind the line
+of those who lounged into the adjoining room, caught a young officer by
+the arm, and whispered some few words in his ear.
+
+“What a scrape I 'm in!” cried the young fellow as he listened.
+
+“I think not, this time; but let it be a caution to you how you talk of
+rumors in presence of men who are strangers to you.”
+
+“I say, Major,” asked a young captain, coming up hurriedly, “isn't that
+Sewell the man of the Agra affair?”
+
+“I don't think I 'd ask him about it, that's all,” said the Major,
+slyly, and moved away.
+
+“I got amongst a capital lot of young fellows at my end of the
+table--second battalion men, I think,--who were all new to me, but very
+agreeable,” said Sewell to Cave, as he sipped his coffee.
+
+“You'd like your rubber, Sewell, I know,” said Cave; “let us see if we
+haven't got some good players.”
+
+“Not to-night,--thanks,--I promised my wife to be home early; one of the
+chicks is poorly.”
+
+“I want so much to have a game with Colonel Sewell,” said a young
+fellow. “They told me up at Delhi that you hadn't your equal at whist or
+billiards.”
+
+Sewell's pale face grew flushed; but though he smiled and bowed, it
+was not difficult to see that his manner evinced more irritation than
+pleasure.
+
+“I say,” said another, who sat shuffling the cards by himself at a
+table, “who knows that trick about the double ace in picquet? That was
+the way Beresford was rooked at Madras.”
+
+“I must say good-night,” said Sewell; “it's a long drive to the Nest You
+'ll come over to breakfast some morning before you leave, won't you?”
+
+“I 'll do my best. At all events, I 'll pay my respects to Mrs. Sewell;”
+ and with a good deal of hand-shaking and some cordial speeches Sewell
+took his leave and retired.
+
+Had any one marked the pace at which Sewell drove home that night, black
+and dark as it was, he would have said, “There goes one on some errand
+of life or death.” There was something of recklessness in the way
+he pushed his strong-boned thoroughbred, urging him up hill and down
+without check or relief, nor slackening rein till he drew up at his own
+door, the panting beast making the buggy tremble with the violent action
+of his respiration. Low muttering to himself, the groom led the beast
+to the stable, and Sewell passed up the stairs to the small drawing-room
+where his wife usually sat.
+
+She was reading as he entered; a little table with a tea equipage at
+her side. She did not raise her eyes from her book when he came in; but
+whether his footstep on the stair had its meaning to her quick ears
+or not, a slight flush quivered on her cheek, and her mouth trembled
+faintly.
+
+“Shall I give you some tea?” asked she, as he threw himself into a seat.
+He made no answer, and she laid down her book, and sat still and silent.
+
+“Was your dinner pleasant?” said she, after a pause.
+
+“How could it be other than pleasant, Madam,” said he, fiercely, “when
+they talked so much of _you?_”
+
+“Of _me?_--talked of _me?_”
+
+“Just so; there were a set of young fellows who had just joined from
+another battalion, and who discoursed of you, of your life in India, of
+your voyage home, and lastly of some incidents that were attributed to
+your sojourn here. To me it was perfectly delightful. I had my opinion
+asked over and over again, if I thought that such a levity was so
+perfectly harmless, and such another liberty was the soul of innocence?
+In a word, Madam, I enjoyed the privilege, very rarely accorded to a
+husband, I fancy, to sit in judgment over his own wife, and say what he
+thought of her conduct.”
+
+“Was there no one to tell these gentlemen to whom they were speaking?”
+ said she, with a subdued, quiet tone.
+
+“No; I came in late and took my place amongst men all strangers to me. I
+assure you I profited largely by the incident. It is so seldom one gets
+public opinion in its undiluted form, it 's quite refreshing to taste
+it neat. Of course they were not always correct. I could have set them
+right on many points. They had got a totally wrong version of what they
+called the 'Agra row,' though one of the party said he was Beresford's
+cousin.”
+
+She grasped the table convulsively to steady herself, and in so doing
+threw it down, and the whole tea equipage with it.
+
+“Yes,” continued he, as though responding to this evidence of emotion on
+her part,--“yes; it pushed one's patience pretty hard to be obliged to
+sit under such criticism.”
+
+“And what obliged you, sir? was it fear?”
+
+“Yes, Madam, you have guessed it. I was afraid--terribly afraid to own I
+was your husband.”
+
+A low faint groan was all she uttered, as she covered her face with her
+hands. “I had next,” continued he, “to listen to a dispute as to whether
+Trafford had ever seriously offered to run away with you or not. It was
+almost put to the vote. Faith, I believe my casting voice might have
+carried the thing either way if I had only known how to give it.” She
+murmured something too low to be heard correctly, but he caught at
+part of it, and said: “Well, that was pretty much what I suspected. The
+debate was, however, adjourned; and as Cave called me by my name at the
+moment, the confidences came to an abrupt conclusion. As I foresaw that
+these youngsters, ignorant of life and manners as they were, would be at
+once for making apologetic speeches and such-like, I stole away and
+came home, _more domestico_, to ruminate over my enjoyments at my own
+fireside.”
+
+“I trust, sir, they were strangers to your own delinquencies. I hope
+they had no unpleasant reminders to give you of yourself.”
+
+“Pardon, Madam. They related several of what you pleasantly call my
+delinquencies, but they only came in as the by-play of the scene where
+you were the great character. We figured as brigands. It was _you_
+always who stunned the victim; _I_ only rifled his pockets--fact, I
+assure you. I'm sorry that china is smashed. It was Saxe,--wasn't it?”
+
+She nodded.
+
+“And a present of Trafford's too! What a pity! I declare I believe
+we shall not have a single relic of the dear fellow, except it be a
+protested bill or two.” He paused a moment or so, and then said, “Do you
+know, it just strikes me that if they saw how ill--how shamefully you
+played your cards in this Trafford affair, they 'd actually absolve you
+of all the Circe gifts the world ascribes to you.”
+
+She fixed her eyes steadfastly on him, and as her clasped hands dropped
+on her knees, she leaned forward and said: “What do you mean by it? What
+do you want by this? If these men, whose insolent taunts you had not
+courage to arrest or to resent, say truly, whose the fault? Ay, sir,
+whose the fault? Answer me, if you dare, and say, was not my shame
+incurred to cover and conceal _yours?_”
+
+“Your tragedy-queen airs have no effect upon me. I 've been too long
+behind the scenes to be frightened by stage thunder. What is past
+is past. You married a gambler; and if you shared his good luck, you
+oughtn't to grumble at partaking his bad fortune. If you had been tired
+of the yoke, I take it you 'd have thrown it behind you many a day ago.”
+
+“If I had not done so, you know well why,” said she, fiercely.
+
+“The old story, I suppose,--the dear darlings upstairs. Well, I can't
+discuss what I know nothing about. I can only promise you that such ties
+would never bind _me_.”
+
+“I ask you once again what you mean by this?” cried she, as her lips
+trembled and her pale cheeks shook with agitation. “What does it point
+to? What am I to do? What am I to be?”
+
+“That's the puzzle,” said he, with an insolent levity; “and I 'll be
+shot if I can solve it! Sometimes I think we 'd do better to renounce
+the partnership, and try what we could do alone; and sometimes I
+suspect--it sounds odd, does n't it?--but I suspect that we need each
+other.”
+
+She had by this time buried her face between her hands, and by the
+convulsive motion of her shoulders, showed she was weeping bitterly.
+
+“One thing is certainly clear,” said he, rising, and standing with his
+back to the fire,--“if we decide to part company, we have n't the means.
+If either of us would desert the ship, there 's no boat left to do it
+with.”
+
+She arose feebly from her chair, but sank down again, weak and overcome.
+
+“Shall I give you my arm?” asked he.
+
+“No; send Jane to me,” said she, in a voice barely above a whisper.
+
+He rang the bell, and said, “Tell Jane her mistress wants her;” and with
+this he searched for a book on the table, found it, and strolled off to
+his room, humming an air as he went.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV. THE TIDELESS SHORES
+
+They who only know the shores of the Mediterranean in the winter months,
+and have but enjoyed the contrast--and what a contrast!--between our
+inky skies and rain-charged atmosphere with that glorious expanse of
+blue heaven and that air of exciting elasticity,--they, I say, can still
+have no conception of the real ecstasy of life in a southern climate
+till they have experienced a summer beside the tideless sea.
+
+Nothing is more striking in these regions than the completeness of
+the change from day to night. It is not alone the rapidity with which
+darkness succeeds,--and in this our delicious twilight is ever to be
+regretted; what I speak of is the marvellous transition from the world
+of sights and sounds to the world of unbroken silence and dimness. In
+the day the whole air rings with life. The flowers flaunt out their
+gorgeous petals, not timidly or reluctantly, but with the bold
+confidence of admitted beauty. The buds unfold beneath your very eyes,
+the rivulets sing in the clear air, and myriads of insects chirp till
+the atmosphere seems to be charged with vitality. This intense vitality
+is the striking characteristic of the scene; and it is to this that
+night succeeds, grand, solemn, and silent, at first to all seeming in
+unrelieved blackness, but soon to be displayed in a glorious expanse
+of darkest, deepest blue, with stars of surpassing size. To make this
+change more effective, too, it is instantaneous. It was but a moment
+back, and you were gazing on the mountain peaks bathed in an opal
+lustre, the cicala making the air vibrate with his song; a soft
+sea-breeze was blowing, and stirring the oranges amongst the leaves;
+and now all is dim and silent and breathless, as suddenly as though an
+enchanter's wand had waved and worked the miracle.
+
+In a little bay--rather a cleft in the shore than a bay--bounded by
+rocks and backed by a steep mountain overgrown with stunted olives,
+stood a small cottage,--so very small that it looked rather like a toy
+house than a human dwelling, a resemblance added to now as the windows
+lay wide open, and all the interior was a blaze of light from two lamps.
+All was still and silent within; no human being was to be seen, nor was
+there a sign of life about the place; for it was the only dwelling on
+the eastern shore of the island, and that island was Maddalena, off
+Sardinia.
+
+In a little nook among the rocks, close to the sea, sat Tom and Lucy
+Lendrick. They held hands, but were silent; for they had come down into
+the darkness to muse and ponder, and drink in the delicious tranquillity
+of that calm hour. Lucy had now been above a week on the island, and
+every day Tom made progress towards recovery. She knew exactly, and
+as none other knew, what amount of care and nursing he would accept of
+without resistance,--where companionship would gratify and where oppress
+him; she knew, besides, when to leave him to the full swing of his own
+wild discursive talk, and never to break in upon his moods of silent
+reflection.
+
+For upwards of half an hour they had sat thus without a word, when Tom,
+suddenly turning round, and looking towards the cottage, said, “Is n't
+this the very sort of thing we used to imagine and wish for long ago,
+Lucy?”
+
+“It was just what was passing through my mind. I was thinking how often
+we longed to have one of the islands on Lough Derg, and to go and live
+there all by ourselves.”
+
+“We never dreamed of anything so luxurious as this, though. We knew
+nothing of limes and oranges, Lucy. We never fancied such a starry
+sky, or an air so loaded with perfume. I declare,” cried he, with more
+energy, “it repays one for all the disappointment, to come and taste the
+luxury of such a night as this.”
+
+“And what is the disappointment you speak of, Tom?”
+
+“I mean about our project-that blessed mine, by which we were to have
+amassed a fortune, and which has only yielded lead enough to shoot
+ourselves with.”
+
+“I never suspected that,” said she, with a sigh.
+
+“Of course you never did; nor am I in a great hurry to tell it even now.
+I'd not whisper it if Sir Brook were on the same island with us. Do you
+know, girl, that he resents a word against the mine as if it was a stain
+upon his own honour. For a while I used to catch up his enthusiasm, and
+think if we only go on steadily, if we simply persist, we are sure to
+succeed in the end. But when week after week rolled over, and not a
+trace of a mineral appeared when the very workmen said we were toiling
+in vain when I felt half-ashamed to meet the jeering questions of
+the neighbours, and used to skulk up to the shaft by the back way,--he
+remarked it, and said to me one morning, 'I am afraid, Tom, it is
+your sense of loyalty to me that keeps you here, and not your hope of
+success. Be frank, and tell me if this be so.' I blundered out something
+about my determination to share his fate, whatever it might be, and it
+would have been lucky if I had stopped there; but I went on to say that
+I thought the mine was an arrant delusion, and that the sooner we turned
+our backs on it, and addressed our energies to another quarter, the
+better. 'You think so?' said he, looking almost fiercely at me. 'I am
+certain of it,' said I, decisively; for I thought the moment had come
+when a word of truth could do him good service. He went out without
+speaking, and instead of going to Lavanna, where the mine is, he went
+over to Cagliari, and only came home late at night. The next morning,
+while we were taking our coffee before 'setting out, he said to me,
+'Don't strap on your knapsack to-day. I don't mean you should come down
+into the shaft again.' 'How so?' asked I; 'what have I said or done that
+could offend you?' 'Nothing, my dear boy,' said he, laying his hand on
+my shoulder; 'but I cannot bear you should meet this dreary life of toil
+without the one thing that can lighten its gloom--Hope. I have managed,
+therefore, to raise a small sum on the mine; for,' said he, with a sly
+laugh, 'there are men in Cagliari who don't take the despondent view
+you have taken of it; and I have written to my old friend at the Horse
+Guards to give you a commission, and you shall go and be a soldier.'
+And leave you here, sir, all alone?' 'Far from alone, lad. I have that
+companion which you tell me never joined _you_. I have Hope with _me_.'
+
+“'Then I'll stay too, sir, and try if he'll not give me his company yet.
+At all events, I shall have _yours_; and there is nothing I know that
+could recompense me for the loss of it.' It was not very easy to turn
+him from his plan, but I insisted so heartily-for I'd have stayed on
+now, if it were to have entailed a whole life of poverty-that he gave in
+at last; and from that hour to this, not a word of other than agreement
+has passed between us. For my own part, I began to work with a will,
+and a determination that I never felt before; and perhaps I overtaxed my
+strength, for I caught this fever by remaining till the heavy dews began
+to fall, and in this climate it is always a danger.”
+
+“And the mine, Tom--did it grow better?” “Not a bit. I verily believe
+we never saw ore from that day. We got upon yellow clay, and lower down
+upon limestone rock, and then upon water; and we are pumping away yet,
+and old Sir Brook is just as much interested by the decrease of the
+water as if he saw a silver floor beneath it. 'We've got eight inches
+less this morning, Tom; we are doing famously now.' I declare to you,
+Lucy, when I saw his fine cheery look and bright honest eye, I thought
+how far better this man's fancies are than the hard facts of other
+people; and I'd rather have his great nature than all the wealth success
+could bring us.”
+
+“My own dear brother!” was all she could say, as she grasped his hand,
+and held it with both her own.
+
+“The worst of all is, that in the infatuation he feels about this mining
+project he forgets everything else. Letters come to him from agents and
+men of business asking for speedy answers; some occasionally come to
+tell that funds upon which he had reckoned to meet certain payments
+had been withdrawn from his banker long sinca When he reads these, he
+ponders a moment, and mutters, 'The old story, I suppose. It is so easy
+to write Brook Fossbrooke;' and then the whole seems to pass out of his
+mind, and he'll say, 'Come along, Tom; we must push matters a little;
+I'll want some coin by the end of the month.'
+
+“When I grew so weak that I could n't go to the mine, the accounts he
+used to give me daily made me think we must be prospering. He would come
+back every night so cheery and so hopeful, and his eyes would sparkle
+as he 'd tell of a bright vein that they 'd just 'struck.' He owned that
+the men were less sanguine, but what could they know? They had no other
+teaching than the poor experiences of daily labor. If they saw lead or
+silver, they believed in it. To him, however, the signs of the coming
+ore were enough; and then he would open a paper full of dark earth in
+which a few shining particles might be detected, and point them out to
+me as the germs of untold riches. 'These are silver, Tom, every one
+of them; they are oxidized, but still perfectly pure. I 've seen the
+natives in Ceylon washing earth not richer than this;' and the poor
+fellow would make this hopeful tidings the reason for treating me to
+champagne, which in an unlucky moment the doctor said would be good for
+me, and which Sir Brook declared always disagreed with him. But I don't
+believe it, Lucy,--I don't believe it! I am certain that he suffered
+many a privation to give me luxuries that he would n't share. Shall I
+tell you the breakfast I saw him eating one morning? I had gone to his
+room to speak to him before he started to the mine, and, opening the
+door gently, I surprised him at his breakfast,--a piece of brown bread
+and a cup of coffee without milk was his meal, to support him till he
+came home at nightfall. I knew if he were aware that I had seen him that
+it would have given him great distress, so I crept quietly back to my
+bed, and lay down to think of this once pampered, flattered gentleman,
+and how grand the nature must be that could hold up uncomplaining and
+unshaken under such poverty as this. Nor is it that he ignores the past,
+Lucy, or strives to forget it,--far from that. He is full of memories
+of bygone events and people, but he talks of his own part in the grand
+world he once lived in as one might talk of another individual; nor is
+there the semblance of a regret that all this splendor has passed away
+never to return. He will be here on Sunday to pay us a visit, Lucy; and
+though perhaps you 'll find him sadly changed in appearance, you 'll see
+that his fine nature is the same as ever.”
+
+“And will he persist in this project, Tom, in spite of all failure and
+in defiance of hope?”
+
+“That's the very point I 'm puzzled about. If he decide to go on, so
+must I. I 'll not leave him, whatever come of it.”
+
+“No, no, Tom; that I know you will not do.”
+
+“His confidence of success is unshaken. It was only t' other night, as
+we sat at a very frugal supper, he said, 'You 'll remember all this,
+Tom, one of these days; and as you sip your Burgundy, you 'll tell your
+friends how jolly we thought ourselves over our little acid wine and an
+onion.' I did not dare to say what was uppermost in my thoughts, that I
+disbelieved in the Burgundy era.”
+
+“It would have been cruel to have done it.”
+
+“He had the habit, he tells me, in his days of palmiest prosperity, of
+going off by himself on foot, and wandering about for weeks, roughing it
+amongst all sorts of people,---gypsies, miners, charcoal-burners in the
+German forests, and such-like. He said, without something of this sort,
+he would have grown to believe that all the luxuries he lived amongst
+were _bona fide_ necessities of life. He was afraid too, he said, they
+would become part of him; for his theory is, never let your belongings
+master your own nature.”
+
+“There is great romance in such a man.”
+
+“Ah! there you have it, Lucy; that's the key to his whole temperament;
+and I 'd not be surprised if he had been crossed in some early love.”
+
+“Would that account for all his capricious ways?” said she, smiling.
+
+“My own experiences can tell me nothing; but I have a sister who could
+perhaps help me to an explanation. Eh, Lucy? What think you?”
+
+She tried to laugh off the theme, but the attempt only half succeeded,
+and she turned away her head to hide her confusion.
+
+Tom took her hand between his own, and patted it affectionately.
+
+“I want no confessions, my own dear Lucy,” said he, gently; “but if
+there is anything which, for your own happiness or for my honor, I ought
+to know, you will tell me of it, I am certain.”
+
+“There is nothing,” said she, with a faint gasp.
+
+“And you would tell me if there had been?”
+
+She nodded her head, but did not trust herself to speak.
+
+“And grandpapa, Lucy?” said he, trying to divert her thoughts from what
+he saw was oppressing her; “has he forgiven me yet, or does he still
+harp on about my presumption and self-sufficiency?”
+
+“He is more forgiving than you think, Tom,” said she, smiling.
+
+“I am not so sure of that. He wrote me a long letter some time back,--a
+sort of lecture on the faults and shortcomings of my disposition,
+in which he clearly showed that if I had all the gifts which my own
+self-confidence ascribed to me, and a score more that I never dreamed
+of, they would go for nothing,--absolutely nothing, so long as they
+were allied with my unparalleled--no, he did n't call it impudence, but
+something very near it. He told me that men of my stamp were like the
+people who traded on credit, and always cut a sorry figure when their
+accounts came to be audited; and, perhaps to stave off the hour of my
+bankruptcy, he enclosed me fifty pounds.”
+
+“So like him!” said she, proudly.
+
+“I suppose it was. Indeed, as I read his note, I thought I heard him
+talking it. There was an acrid flippancy about it that smacked of his
+very voice.”
+
+“Oh, Tom, I will not let you say that.”
+
+“I 'll think it all the same, Lucy. His letter brought him back to my
+mind so palpably that I thought I stood there before him on that
+morning when he delivered that memorable discourse on my character after
+luncheon.”
+
+“Did you reply to him?”
+
+“Yes, I replied,” said he, with a dry sententiousness that sounded as
+though he wished the subject to drop.
+
+“Do tell me what you said. I hope you took it in good part. I am sure
+you could not have shown any resentment at his remarks.”
+
+“No; I rather think I showed great forbearance. I simply said, 'My dear
+Lord Chief Baron, I have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, of
+which I accept everything but the enclosure.--I am, faithfully yours.'”
+
+“And refused his gift?”
+
+“Of course I did. The good counsel without the money, or the last
+without the counsel, would have beeu all very well; but coming together,
+in what a false position the offer placed me! I remember that same day
+we happened to have an unusually meagre dinner, but I drank the old
+man's health after it in some precious bad wine; and Sir Brook, who knew
+nothing about the letter, joined in the toast, and pronounced a very
+pretty little eulogium on his vigor and energy; and thus ended the whole
+incident.”
+
+“If you only knew him better, Tom! if you knew him as I know him!”
+
+Tom shrugged his shoulders, and merely said, “It was nicely done,
+though, not to tell _you_ about this. There was delicacy in _that_.”
+
+Lucy went on now to relate all his kind intentions towards Tom when the
+news of his illness arrived,--how he had conferred with Beattie about
+sending out a doctor, and how, at such a sacrifice to his own daily
+habits, he had agreed that she should come out to Cagliari. “And you
+don't know how much this cost him, Master Tom,” said she, laughing; “for
+however little store you may lay by my company, he prizes it, and prizes
+it highly too, I promise you; and then there was another reason which
+weighed against his letting me come out here,--he has got some absurd
+prejudice against Sir Brook. I call it absurd, because I have tried to
+find out to what to trace it, and could not; but a chance expression or
+two that fell from Mrs. Sewell leads me to suppose the impression was
+derived from them.”
+
+“I don't believe he knows the Sewells. I never heard him speak of them.
+I 'll ask when he comes over here. By the way, how do you like them
+yourself?”
+
+“I scarcely know. I liked her at first,--that is, I thought I should
+like her; and I fancied, too, it was her wish that I might--but--”
+
+“But what? What does this 'but' mean?”
+
+“It means that she has puzzled me, and my hope of liking her depends on
+my discovering that I have misunderstood her.”
+
+“That's a riddle, if ever there was one! but I suppose it comes to this,
+that if you have read her aright you do not like her.”
+
+“I wish I could show you a letter she wrote me.”
+
+“And why can't you?”
+
+“I don't think I can tell you even that, Tom.”
+
+“What a mysterious damsel you have grown! Does this come of your living
+with that great law lord, Lucy? If so, tell him from me he has spoiled
+you sadly. How frank you were long ago!”
+
+“That is true,” said she, sighing.
+
+“How I wish we could go back to that time, with all its dreaminess and
+all its castle-building. Do you remember, Lu, when we used to set off
+of a morning in the boat on a voyage of discovery, as we called it, and
+find out new islands and new creeks, and give them names?”
+
+“Do I not? Oh, Tom, were we not a thousand times happier then than we
+knew we were?”
+
+“That's a bit of a bull, Lucy, but it's true all the same. I know all
+you mean, and I agree with you.”
+
+“If we had troubles, what light ones they were!”
+
+“Ay, that's true. We were not grubbing for lead in those days, and
+finding only quartz; and our poor hearts, Lucy, were whole enough then.”
+ He gave a half malicious laugh as he said this; but, correcting himself
+quickly, he drew her towards him and said, “Don't be angry with me, dear
+Lu; you know of old what a reckless tongue I 've got.”
+
+“Was that thunder, Tom? There it is again. What is it?”
+
+“That's a storm getting up. It's coming from the south'ard. See how the
+drift is flying overhead, and all the while the sea beneath is like a
+mill-pond! Watch the stars now, and you 'll see how, one by one, they
+will drop out, as if extinguished; and mark the little plash--it
+is barely audible--that begins upon the beach. There! did you hear
+that,--that rushing sound like wind through the trees? That's the sea
+getting up. How I wish I was strong enough to stay out here. I 'd like
+to show you a 'Levanter,' girl,--a regular bit of Southern passion, not
+increasing slowly, like a Northern wrath, but bursting out in its full
+fury in an instant. Here it comes!” and as he spoke two claps of thunder
+shook the air, followed by a long clattering roll like musketry, and
+the sea, upheaving, surged heavily hither and thither, while the air was
+still and calm; and then, as though let loose from their caverns, the
+winds swept past with a wild shrill whistle that swelled into a perfect
+roar. The whole surface of the sea became at once white, and the wind,
+sweeping across the crests of the waves, carried away a blinding drift
+that added to the darkness. The thunder, too, rolled on unceasingly, and
+great flashes of lightning broke through the blackness, and displayed
+tall masts and spars of ships far out to sea, rocking fearfully, and in
+the next instant lost to sight in the dense darkness.
+
+“Here comes the rain, and we must run for it,” said Tom, as a few heavy
+drops fell. A solemn pause in the storm ensued, and then, as though the
+very sky was rent, the water poured down in cataracts. Laughing merrily,
+they made for the cottage, and though but a few yards off, were drenched
+thoroughly ere they reached it.
+
+“It's going to be a terrific night,” said Tom, as he passed from window
+to window, looking to the bars and fastenings. “The great heat always
+brings one of the Levant storms, and the fishermen here know it so well
+that on seeing certain signs at sunset they draw up all their boats on
+shore, and even secure the roofs of their cabins with strong spars and
+stones.”
+
+“I hope poor old Nicholas is safe by this time. Could he have reached
+Cagliari by this?” said Lucy.
+
+“Yes, he is snug enough. The old rogue is sitting at his supper this
+minute, cursing the climate and the wine and the place, and the day he
+came to it.”
+
+“Come, Tom! I think he bears everything better than I expected.”
+
+“Bears everything better! Why, child, what has he to bear that you and
+I have not to bear? Is there one privation here that falls to his share
+without coming to us?”
+
+“And what would be the value of that good blood you are so proud of,
+Tom, if it would not make us as proof against petty annoyances as
+against big dangers?”
+
+“I declare time and place make no change on you. You are the same
+disputatious damsel here that you used to be beside the Shannon. Have
+I not told you scores of times you must never quote what one has once
+said, when it comes in opposition to a present opinion?”
+
+“But if I cease to quote you, Tom, whence am I to derive those maxims of
+wisdom I rely upon so implicitly?”
+
+“Take care, young lady,--take care,” said he, shaking his finger at
+her. “Every fort has its weak side. If you assail me by the brain, I
+may attack you at the heart! How will it be then, eh?” Coloring till
+her face and neck were crimson, she tried to laugh; but though her lips
+parted, no sound came forth, and after a second or two of struggle, she
+said, “Good-night,” and rushed away.
+
+“Good-night, Lu,” cried he after her. “Look well to your
+window-fastenings, or you will be blown away before morning.”
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by
+Charles James Lever
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+Project Gutenberg's Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by Charles James Lever
+
+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: Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I.
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: E. J. Wheeler
+
+Release Date: February 16, 2011 [EBook #35296]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE, VOLUME I. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE
+
+Volume I.
+
+By Charles James Lever,
+
+With Illustrations By E. J. Wheeler
+
+Boston:
+
+Little, Brown, And Company.
+
+1917.
+
+
+To PHILIP ROSE, Esq.
+
+My dear Rose,--You have often stopped me when endeavouring to express
+all the gratitude I felt towards you. You cannot do so now, nor prevent
+my telling aloud how much I owe-how much I esteem you. These volumes
+were not without interest for me as I wrote them, but they yielded me
+no such pleasure as I now feel in dedicating them to you; and, with this
+assurance, believe me,
+
+Your affectionate Friend,
+
+CHARLES LEVER.
+
+Spezia, October 20. 1866.
+
+
+
+
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. AFTER MESS
+
+The mess was over, and the officers of H. M.'s --th were grouped in
+little knots and parties, sipping their coffee, and discussing the
+arrangements for the evening. Their quarter was that pleasant city
+of Dublin, which, bating certain exorbitant demands in the matter of
+field-day and guard-mounting, stands pre-eminently first in military
+favor.
+
+"Are you going to that great ball in Merrion Square?" asked one., "Not
+so lucky; not invited."
+
+"I got a card," cried a third; "but I 've just heard it's not to come
+off. It seems that the lady's husband is a judge. He's Chief something
+or other; and he has been called away."
+
+"Nothing of the kind, Tomkins; unless you call a summons to the next
+world being called away. The man is dangerously ill. He was seized with
+paralysis on the Bench yesterday, and, they say, can't recover."
+
+There now ensued an animated conversation as to whether, on death
+vacancies, the men went up by seniority at the bar, or whether a
+subaltern could at once spring up to the top of the regiment.
+
+"Suppose," said one, "we were to ask the Colonel's guest his opinion.
+The old cove has talked pretty nigh of everything in this world during
+dinner; what if we were to ask him about Barons of the Exchequer?"
+
+"Who is he? what is he?" asked another.
+
+"The Colonel called him Sir Brook Fossbrooke; that's all I know."
+
+"Colonel Cave told me," whispered the Major, "that he was the fastest
+man on town some forty years ago."
+
+"I think he must have kept over the wardrobe of that brilliant period,"
+said another. "I never saw a really swallow-tailed coat before."
+
+"His ring amused _me_. It is a small smoothing-iron, with a coat-of-arms
+on it. Hush! here he comes."
+
+The man who now joined the group was a tall, gaunt figure, with a high
+narrow head, from which the hair was brushed rigidly back to fall behind
+in something like an old-fashioned queue. His eyes were black, and
+surmounted with massive and much-arched eyebrows; a strongly marked
+mouth, stern, determined, and, except in speaking, almost cruel in
+expression, and a thin-pointed projecting chin, gave an air of severity
+and strong will to features which, when he conversed, displayed a look
+of courteous deference, and that peculiar desire to please that we
+associate with a bygone school of breeding. He was one of those men,
+and very distinctive are they, with whom even the least cautious take
+no liberties, nor venture upon any familiarity. The eccentricities of
+determined men are very often indications of some deep spirit beneath,
+and not, as in weaker natures, mere emanations of vanity or offsprings
+of self-indulgence.
+
+If he was, beyond question, a gentleman, there were also signs about him
+of narrow fortune: his scrupulously white shirt was not fine, and the
+seams of his well-brushed coat showed both care and wear.
+
+He had joined the group, who were talking of the coming Derby when the
+Colonel came up. "I have sent for the man we want, Fossbrooke. I'm not
+a fisherman myself; but they tell me he knows every lake, river, and
+rivulet in the island. He has sat down to whist, but we 'll have him
+here presently."
+
+"On no account; don't disturb his game for me."
+
+"Here he comes. Trafford, I want to present you to a very old friend of
+mine, Sir Brook Fossbrooke,--as enthusiastic an angler as yourself. He
+has the ambition to hook an Irish salmon. I don't suppose any one can
+more readily help him on the road to it."
+
+The young man thus addressed was a large, strongly, almost heavily built
+young fellow, but with that looseness of limb and freedom that showed
+activity had not been sacrificed to mere power. He had a fine, frank,
+handsome face, blue-eyed and bold-looking; and as he stood to receive
+the Colonel's orders, there was in his air that blending of deference
+and good-humored carelessness that made up his whole nature.
+
+It was plain to see in him one easy to persuade, impossible to coerce;
+a fellow with whom the man he liked could do anything, bat one perfectly
+unmanageable if thrown into the wrong hands. He was the second son of
+a very rich baronet, but made the mistake of believing he had as much
+right to extravagance as his elder brother, and, having persisted in
+this error during two years in the Life Guards, had been sent to do
+the double penance of an infantry regiment and an Irish station; two
+inflictions which, it was believed, would have sufficed to calm down the
+ardor of the most impassioned spendthrift. He looked at Fossbrooke from
+head to foot. It was not exactly the stamp of man he would have selected
+for companionship, but he saw at once that he was distinctively a
+gentleman, and then the prospect of a few days away from regimental
+duty was not to be despised, and he quickly replied that both he and his
+tackle were at Sir Brook's disposal. "If we could run down to Killaloe,
+sir," added he, turning to the Colonel, "we might be almost sure of some
+sport."
+
+"Which means that you want two days' leave, Trafford."
+
+"No, sir, four. It will take a day at least to get over there; another
+will be lost in exploring; all these late rains have sent such a fresh
+into the Shannon there's no knowing where to try."
+
+"You see, Fossbrooke, what a casuistical companion I've given you. I 'll
+wager you a five-pound note that if you come back without a rise he 'll
+have an explanation that will perfectly explain it was the best thing
+could have happened."
+
+"I am charmed to travel in such company," said Sir Brook, bowing. "The
+gentleman has already established a claim to my respect for him."
+
+Trafford bowed too, and looked not at all displeased at the compliment.
+"Are you an early riser, sir?" asked he.
+
+"I am anything, sir, the occasion exacts; but when I have an early start
+before me, I usually sit up all night."
+
+"My own plan too," cried Trafford. "And there's Aubrey quite ready to
+join us. Are you a whister, Sir Brook?"
+
+"At your service. I play all games."
+
+"Is he a whister?" repeated the Colonel. "Ask Harry Greville, ask Tom
+Newenham, what they say of him at Grahams? Trafford, my boy, you may
+possibly give him a hint about gray hackles, but I 'll be shot if you do
+about the odd trick."
+
+"If you 'll come over to my room, Sir Brook, we 'll have a rubber, and
+I 'll give orders to have my tax-cart ready for us by daybreak," said
+Trafford; and, Fossbrooke promising to be with him so soon as he had
+given his servant his orders, they parted.
+
+"And are you as equal to this sitting up all night as you used to be,
+Fossbrooke?" asked the Colonel.
+
+"I don't smoke as many cigars as formerly, and I am a little more choice
+about my tobacco. I avoid mulled port, and take weak brandy-and-water;
+and I believe in all other respects I 'm pretty much where I was when we
+met last,--I think it was at Ceylon?"
+
+"I wish I could say as much for myself. You are talking of thirty-four
+years ago."
+
+"My secret against growing old is to do a little of everything. It keeps
+the sympathies wider, makes a man more accessible to other men, and
+keeps him from dwelling too much on himself. But tell me about my young
+companion; is he one of Sir Hugh's family?"
+
+"His second son; not unlike to be his eldest, for George has gone to
+Madeira with very little prospect of recovery. This is a fine lad; a
+little wild, a little careless of money, but the very soul of honor and
+right-mindedness. They sent him to me as a sort of incurable, but I have
+nothing but good to say of him."
+
+"There 'a great promise in a fellow when he can be a scamp and a man of
+honor. When dissipations do not degrade and excesses do not corrupt a
+man, there is a grand nature ever beneath."
+
+"Don't tell him that, Fossbrooke," said the Colonel, laughing.
+
+"I am not likely to do so," said he, with a grim smile. "I am glad, too,
+to meet his father's son; we were at Christ Church together; and now I
+see he has the family good looks. 'Le beau Trafford' was a proverb in
+Paris once."
+
+"Do you ever forget a man?" asked the Colonel, in some curiosity.
+
+"I believe not. I forget books, places, dates occasionally, but never
+people. I met an old schoolfellow t'other day at Dover whom I never saw
+since we were boys. He had gone down in the world, and was acting as
+one of the 'commissionnaires' they call them, who take your keys to the
+Custom-house to have your luggage examined; and when he came to ask me
+to employ him, I said, "'What! ain't you Jemmy Harper?' 'And who the
+devil are you?' said he. 'Fossbrooke,' said I. 'Not "Wart"?' said he.
+That was my school nickname, from a wart I once had on my chin. 'Ay, to
+be sure,' said I, 'Wart.' I wish you saw the delight of the old dog. I
+made him dine with us. Lord Brackington was with me, and enjoyed it all
+immensely."
+
+"And what had brought him so low?"
+
+"He was cursed, he said, with a strong constitution; all the other
+fellows of his set had so timed it that when they had nothing to live on
+they ceased to live; but Jemmy told us he never had such an appetite as
+now; that he passed from fourteen to sixteen hours a day on the pier
+in all weathers; and as to gout he firmly believed it all came of the
+adulterated wines of the great wine-merchants. British gin he maintained
+to be the wholesomest liquor in existence."
+
+"I wonder how fellows bear up under such reverses as that," said the
+Colonel.
+
+"My astonishment is rather," cried Fossbrooke, "how men can live on in
+a monotony of well-being, getting fatter, older, and more unwieldy, and
+with only such experiences of life as a well-fed fowl might have in a
+hencoop."
+
+"I know that's _your_ theory," said the other, laughing.
+
+"Well, no man can say that I have not lived up to my convictions; and
+for myself, I can aver I have thoroughly enjoyed my intercourse with the
+world, and like it as well to-day as on the first morning I made my bow
+to it."
+
+"Listen to this, young gentlemen," said the Colonel, turning to his
+officers, who now gathered around them. "Now and then I hear some of
+you complaining of being bored or wearied,--sick of this, tired of that;
+here's my friend, who knows the whole thing better than any of us, and
+he declares that the world is the best of all possible worlds, and
+that so far from familiarity with it inspiring disgust with life, his
+enjoyment of it is as racy as when first he knew it."
+
+"It is rather hard to ask these gentlemen to take me as a guide on
+trust," said Fossbrooke; "but I have known the fathers of most of those
+I see around me, and could call many of them as witnesses to character.
+Major Aylmer, your father and I went up the Nile together, when people
+talked of it as a journey. Captain Harris, I 'm sure I am not wrong in
+saying you are the son of Godfrey Harris, of Harrisburg. Your father
+was my friend on the day I wounded Lord Ecclesmore. I see four or five
+others too,--so like old companions that I find it hard to believe I am
+not back again in the old days when I was as young as themselves; and
+yet I 'm not very certain if I would like to exchange my present quiet
+enjoyment as a looker-on for all that active share I once took in life
+and its pleasures."
+
+Something in the fact that their fathers had lived in his intimacy,
+something in his manner,--a very courteous manner it was,--and something
+in the bold, almost defiant bearing of the old man, vouching for great
+energy and dignity together, won greatly upon the young men, and they
+gathered around him. He was, however, summoned away by a message from
+Trafford to say that the whist-party waited for him, and he took his
+leave with a stately courtesy and withdrew.
+
+"There goes one of the strangest fellows in Christendom," said the
+Colonel, as the other left the room. "He has already gone through three
+fortunes; he dissipated the first, speculated and lost the second,
+and the third he, I might say, gave away in acts of benevolence and
+kindness,--leaving himself so ill off that I actually heard the other
+day that some friend had asked for the place of barrack-master at
+Athlone for him; but on coming over to see the place, he found a poor
+fellow with a wife and five children a candidate for it; so he retired
+in his favor, and is content, as you see, to go out on the world, and
+take his chance with it."
+
+Innumerable questions pressed on the Colonel to tell more of his strange
+friend; he had, however, little beyond hearsay to give them. Of his
+own experiences, he could only say that when first he met him it was
+at Ceylon, where he had come in a yacht like a sloop of war to hunt
+elephants,--the splendor of his retinue and magnificence of his suite
+giving him the air of a royal personage,--and indeed the gorgeous
+profusion of his presents to the King and the chief personages of the
+court went far to impress this notion. "I never met him since," said
+the Colonel, "till this morning, when he walked into my room, dusty and
+travel-stained, to say, 'I just heard your name, and thought I 'd ask
+you to give me my dinner to-day.' I owe him a great many,--not to say
+innumerable other attentions; and his last act on leaving Trincomalee
+was to present me with an Arab charger, the most perfect animal I ever
+mounted. It is therefore a real pleasure to me to receive him. He is a
+thoroughly fine-hearted fellow, and, with all his eccentricities, one of
+the noblest natures I ever met. The only flaw in his frankness is as
+to his age; nobody has ever been able to get it from him. You heard him
+talk of your fathers,--he might talk of your grandfathers; and he would,
+too, if we had only the opportunity to lead him on to it. I know of my
+own knowledge that he lived in the Carlton House coterie, not a man of
+which except himself survives, and I have heard him give imitations of
+Burke, Sheridan, Gavin Hamilton, and Pitt, that none but one who had
+seen them could have accomplished. And now that I have told you all
+this, will one of you step over to Trafford's rooms, and whisper him
+a hint to make his whist-points as low as he can; and, what is even
+of more importance, to take care lest any strange story Sir Brook may
+tell--and he is full of them--meet a sign of incredulity, still less
+provoke any quizzing? The slightest shade of such a provocation would
+render him like a madman."
+
+The Major volunteered to go on this mission, which indeed any of the
+others would as willingly have accepted, for the old man had interested
+them deeply, and they longed to hear more about him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE SWAN'S NEST
+
+As the Shannon draws near Killaloe, the wild character of the mountain
+scenery, the dreary wastes and desolate islands which marked Lough
+Derg, disappear, and give way to gently sloping lawns, dotted over with
+well-grown timber, well-kept demesnes, spacious country-houses, and
+a country which, in general, almost recalls the wealth and comfort of
+England.
+
+About a mile above the town, in a little bend of the river forming a
+small bay, stands a small but pretty house, with a skirt of rich wood
+projecting at the back, while the lawn in front descends by an easy
+slope to the river.
+
+Originally a mere farmhouse, the taste of an ingenious owner had
+taken every advantage of its irregular outline, and converted it into
+something Elizabethan in character, a style admirably adapted to the
+site, where all the features of rich-colored landscape abounded, and
+where varied foliage, heathy mountain, and eddying river, all lent
+themselves to make up a scene of fresh and joyous beauty.
+
+In the marvellous fertility of the soil, too, was found an ally to every
+prospect of embellishment. Sheltered from north and east winds, plants
+grew here in the open air, which in less favored spots needed the
+protection of the conservatory; and thus in the neatly shaven lawn were
+seen groups of blossoming shrubs or flowers of rare excellence, and the
+camellia and the salvia and the oleander blended with the tulip, the
+moss-rose, and the carnation, to stud the grass with their gorgeous
+colors.
+
+Over the front of the cottage, for cottage it really was, a South
+American creeper, a sort of acanthus, grew, its crimson flowers hanging
+in rich profusion over cornice and architrave; while a passion-tree of
+great age covered the entire porch, relieving with its softened tints
+the almost over-brilliancy of the southern plant.
+
+Seen from the water,--and it came suddenly into view on rounding a
+little headland,--few could forbear from an exclamation of wonder and
+admiration at this lovely spot; nor could all the pretentious grandeur
+of the rich-wooded parks, nor all the more imposing architecture of the
+great houses, detract from the marvellous charm of this simple home.
+
+A tradition of a swan carried away by some rising of the river from the
+Castle of Portumna, and swept down the lake till it found refuge in the
+little bay, had given the name to the place, and for more than a hundred
+years was it known as the Swan's Nest. The Swan, however, no longer
+existed, though a little thatched edifice at the water-side marked the
+spot it had once inhabited, and sustained the truth of the legend.
+
+The owner of the place was a Dr. Lendrick: he had come to it about
+twenty years before the time at which our story opens,--a widower with
+two children, a son and a daughter. He was a perfect stranger to all the
+neighborhood, though by name well known as the son of a distinguished
+judge, Baron Lendrick of the Court of Exchequer.
+
+It was rumored about, that, having displeased his father, first by
+adopting medicine instead of law as his profession, and subsequently by
+marrying a portionless girl of humble family, the Baron had ceased to
+recognize him in any way. Making a settlement of a few hundreds a year
+on him, he resolved to leave the bulk of his fortune to a step-son, the
+child of his second wife, a Colonel Sewell, then in India.
+
+It was with no thought of practising his profession that Dr. Lendrick
+had settled in the neighborhood; but as he was always ready to assist
+the poor by his advice and skill, and as the reputation of his great
+ability gradually got currency, he found himself constrained to yield
+to the insistence of his neighbors, and consent to practise generally.
+There were many things which made this course unpalatable to him. He was
+by nature shy, timid, and retiring; he was fastidiously averse to a new
+acquaintanceship; he had desired, besides, to live estranged from the
+world, devoting himself entirely to the education of his children; and
+he neither liked the forced publicity he became exposed to, nor that
+life of servitude which leaves the doctor at the hourly mercy of the
+world around him.
+
+If he yielded, therefore, to the professional calls upon him, he
+resisted totally all social claims: he went nowhere but as the doctor.
+
+No persuasion, no inducement, could prevail on him to dine out; no
+exigency of time or season prevent him returning to his home at night.
+There were in his neighborhood one or two persons whose rank might have,
+it was supposed, influenced him in some degree to comply with their
+requests,--and, certainly, whose desire for his society would have
+left nothing undone to secure it; but he was as obdurate to them as
+to others, and the Earl of Drum-carran and Sir Reginald Lacy, of Lacy
+Manor, were not a whit more successful in their blandishments than the
+Vicar of Killaloe--old Bob Mills, as he was irreverently called--or
+Lendrick's own colleague, Dr. Tobin, who, while he respected his
+superior ability and admitted his knowledge, secretly hated him as only
+a rival doctor knows how to hate a brother practitioner.
+
+For the first time for many years had Dr. Lendrick gone up to Dublin.
+A few lines from an old family physician, Dr. Beattie, had, however,
+called him up to town. The Chief Baron had been taken ill in Court, and
+was conveyed home in a state of insensibility. It was declared that he
+had rallied and passed a favorable night; but as he was a man of very
+advanced age, at no time strong, and ever unsparing of himself in the
+arduous labors of his office, grave doubts were felt that he would
+ever again resume his seat on the Bench. Dr. Beattie well knew the long
+estrangement that had separated the father from the son; and although,
+perhaps, the most intimate friend the Judge had in the world, he never
+had dared to interpose a word or drop a hint as to the advisability of
+reconciliation.
+
+Sir William Lendrick was, indeed, a man whom no amount of intimacy could
+render his friends familiar with. He was positively charming to mere
+acquaintanceship,--his manner was a happy blending of deference with
+a most polished wit Full of bygone experiences and reminiscences of
+interesting people and events, he never overlaid conversation by their
+mention, but made them merely serve to illustrate the present, either
+by contrast or resemblance. All this to the world and society was he; to
+the inmates of his house he was a perfect terror! It was said his first
+wife had died of a broken heart; his second, with a spirit fierce and
+combative as his own, had quarrelled with him so often, so seriously,
+and so hopelessly, that for the last fifteen years of life they had
+occupied separate houses, and only met as acquaintances, accepting
+and sending invitations to each other, and outwardly observing all the
+usages of a refined courtesy.
+
+This was the man of whom Dr. Beattie wrote: "I cannot presume to say
+that he is _more_ favorably disposed towards you than he has shown
+himself for years, but I would strenuously advise your being here, and
+sufficiently near, so that if a happier disposition should occur, or an
+opportunity arise to bring you once more together, the fortunate moment
+should not be lost. Come up, then, at once, come to my house, where
+your room is ready for you, and where you will neither be molested by
+visitors nor interfered with. Manage too, if you can, to remain here for
+some days."
+
+It is no small tribute to the character of filial affection when one can
+say, and say truthfully, that scarcely any severity on a parent's part
+effaces the love that was imbibed in infancy, and that struck root in
+the heart before it could know what unkindness was! Over and over again
+in life have I witnessed this deep devotion. Over and over again have I
+seen a clinging affection to a memory which nothing short of a hallowed
+tie could have made so dear,--a memory that retained whatever could
+comfort and sustain, and held nothing that recalled shame or sorrow.
+
+Dr. Lendrick went up to town full of such emotions. All the wrong--it
+was heavy wrong too--he had suffered was forgotten, all the Injustice
+wiped out. He only asked to be permitted to see his father,--to nurse
+and watch by him. There was no thought for himself. By reconciliation
+he never meant restoration to his place as heir. Forgiveness and love he
+asked for,--to be taken back to the heart so long closed against him, to
+hear himself called Tom by that voice he knew so well, and whose accents
+sounded through his dreams.
+
+That he was not without a hope of such happiness, might be gathered from
+one circumstance. He had taken up with him two miniatures of his boy and
+girl to show "Grandfather," if good fortune should ever offer a fitting
+moment.
+
+The first words which greeted him on reaching his friend's house were:
+"Better. A tolerably tranquil night. He can move his hand. The attack
+was paralysis, and his speech is also improved."
+
+"And his mind? how is his mind?"
+
+"Clear as ever it was,--intensely eager to hear what is said about his
+illness, and insatiable as to the newspaper versions of the attack."
+
+"Does he speak? Has he spoken of--his family at all?" said he,
+falteringly.
+
+"Only of Lady Lendrick. He desired to see her. He dictated a note to
+me, in terms of very finished courtesy, asking her if, without incurring
+inconvenience, she would favor him with an early call. The whole thing
+was so like himself that I saw at once he was getting better."
+
+"And so you think him better?" asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+
+"Better! Yes--but not out of danger. I fear as much from his
+irritability as his malady. He will insist on seeing the newspapers, and
+occasionally his eye falls on some paragraph that wounds him. It was but
+yesterday that he read a sort of querulous regret from some writer that
+'the learned Judge had not retired some years ago, and before failing
+health, acting on a very irascible temperament, had rendered him a
+terror alike to the bar and the suitors.' That unfortunate paragraph
+cost twenty leeches and ice to his temples for eight hours after."
+
+"Cannot these things be kept from him? Surely your authority ought to be
+equal to this!"
+
+"Were I to attempt it, he would refuse to see me. In fact, any utility
+I can contribute depends on my apparent submission to him in everything.
+Almost his first question to me every morning is, 'Well, sir, who is to
+be my successor?' Of course I say that we all look with a sanguine hope
+to see him soon back in his court again. When I said this yesterday, he
+replied, 'I will sit on Wednesday, sir, to hear appeals; there will be
+little occasion for me to speak, and I trust another day or two will see
+the last of this difficulty of utterance. Pemberton, I know, is looking
+to the Attorney-Generalship, and George Hayes thinks he may order his
+ermine. Tell them, however, from me, that the Chief Baron intends to
+preside in his court for many a year to come; that the intellect, such
+as it is, with which Providence endowed him, is still unchanged and
+unclouded.' This is his language,--this his tone; and you may know
+how such a spirit jars with all our endeavors to promote rest and
+tranquillity."
+
+Lendrick walked moodily up and down the room, his head sunk, and his
+eyes downcast. "Never to speak of me,--never ask to see me," muttered
+he, in a voice of intense sadness.
+
+"I half suspected at one time he was about to do so, and indeed he said,
+'If this attack should baffle you, Beattie, you must not omit to give
+timely warning. There are two or three things to be thought of.' When I
+came away on that morning, I sat down and wrote to you to come up here."
+
+A servant entered at this moment and presented a note to the doctor, who
+read it hastily and handed it to Lendrick. It ran thus:--
+
+"Dear Dr. Beattie,--The Chief Baron has had an unfavorable turn, partly
+brought on by excitement. Lose no time in coming here; and believe me,
+yours sincerely,
+
+"CONSTANTIA LENDRICK."
+
+"They've had a quarrel; I knew they would. I did my best to prevent
+their meeting; but I saw he would not go out of the world without a
+scene. As he said last night, 'I mean her to hear my "charge." She must
+listen to my charge, Beattie;' and I 'd not be astonished if this charge
+were to prove his own sentence."
+
+"Go to him at once, Beattie; and if it be at all possible, if you can
+compass it in any way, let me see him once again. Take these with you;
+who knows but their bright faces may plead better than words for us?"
+and thus saying, he gave him the miniatuies; and overcome with emotion
+he could not control, turned away and left the room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. A DIFFICULT PATIENT
+
+As Dr. Beattie drove off with all speed to the Chief Baron's house,
+which lay about three miles from the city, he had time to ponder as he
+went over his late interview. "Tom Lendrick," as he still called him
+to himself, he had known as a boy, and ever liked him. He had been a
+patient, studious, gentle-tempered lad, desirous to acquire knowledge,
+without any of that ambition that wants to make the knowledge
+marketable. To have gained a professorship would have appeared to have
+been the very summit of his ambition, and this rather as a quiet retreat
+to pursue his studies further than as a sphere wherein to display his
+own gifts. Anything more unlike that bustling, energetic, daring spirit,
+his father, would be hard to conceive. Throughout his whole career
+at the bar, and in Parliament, men were never quite sure what that
+brilliant speaker and most indiscreet talker would do next. Men secured
+his advocacy with a half misgiving whether they were doing the very best
+or the very worst for success. Give him difficulties to deal with, and
+he was a giant; let all go smoothly and well, and he would hunt up
+some crotchet,--some obsolete usage,--a doubtful point, that in its
+discussion very frequently led to the damage of his client's cause, and
+the defeat of his suit.
+
+Display was ever more to him than victory. Let him have a great arena
+to exhibit in, and he was proof against all the difficulties and all
+the casualties of the conflict. Never had such a father a son less the
+inheritor of his temperament and nature; and this same disappointment
+rankling on through life--a disappointment that embittered all
+intercourse, and went so far as to make him disparage the high abilities
+of his son--created a gulf between them that Beattie knew could never
+be bridged over. He doubted, too, whether as a doctor he could
+conscientiously introduce a theme so likely to irritate and excite. As
+he pondered, he opened the two miniatures, and looked at them. The young
+man was a fine, manly, daring-looking fellow, with a determined brow and
+a resolute mouth, that recalled his grandfather's face; he was evidently
+well grown and strong, and looked one that, thrown where he might be in
+life, would be likely to assert his own.
+
+The girl, wonderfully like him in feature, had a character of subdued
+humor in her eye, and a half-hid laughter in the mouth, which the artist
+had caught up with infinite skill, that took away all the severity of
+the face, and softened its traits to a most attractive beauty. Through
+her rich brown hair there was a sort of golden _reflet_ that imparted
+great brilliancy to the expression of the head, and her large eyes of
+gray-blue were the image of candor and softness, till her laugh gave
+them a sparkle of drollery whose sympathy there was no resisting. She,
+too, was tall and beautifully formed, with that slimness of early youth
+that only escapes being angular, but has in it the charm of suppleness
+that lends grace to every action and every gesture.
+
+"I wish he could see the originals," muttered Beattie. "If the old man,
+with his love of beauty, but saw that girl, it would be worth all the
+arguments in Christendom. Is it too late for this? Have we time for the
+experiment?"
+
+Thus thinking, he drove along the well-wooded approach, and gained the
+large ground-space before the door, whence a carriage was about to drive
+away. "Oh, doctor," cried a voice, "I'm so glad you 're come; they are
+most impatient for you." It was the Solicitor-General, Mr. Pemberton,
+who now came up to the window of Beattie's carriage.
+
+"He has become quite unmanageable, will not admit a word of counsel or
+advice, resists all interference, and insists on going out for a drive."
+
+"I see him at the window," said Beattie; "he is beckoning to me;
+good-bye," and he passed on and entered the house.
+
+In the chief drawing-room, in a deep recess of a window, sat the Chief
+Baron, dressed as if to go out, with an overcoat and even his gloves
+on. "Come and drive with me, Beattie," cried he, in a feeble but harsh
+voice. "If I take my man Leonard, they 'll say it was a keeper. You know
+that the 'Post' has it this morning that it is my mind which has given
+way. They say they 've seen me breaking for years back. Good heavens!
+can it be possible, think you, that the mites in a cheese speculate over
+the nature of the man that eats them? You stopped to talk with Pemberton
+I saw; what did he say to you?"
+
+"Nothing particular,--a mere greeting, I think."
+
+"No, sir, it was not; he was asking you how many hours there lay between
+him and the Attorney-Generalship. They 've divided the carcase already.
+The lion has to assist at his autopsy,--rather hard, is n't it? How it
+embitters death, to think of the fellows who are to replace us!"
+
+"Let me feel your pulse."
+
+"Don't trust it, Beattie; that little dialogue of yours on the grass
+plot has sent it up thirty beats; how many is it?"
+
+"Rapid,--very rapid; you need rest,--tranquillity."
+
+"And you can't give me either, sir; neither you nor your craft. You are
+the Augurs of modern civilization, and we cling to your predictions just
+as our forefathers did, though we never believe you."
+
+"This is not flattery," said Beattie, with a slight smile.
+
+The old man closed his eyes, and passed his hand slowly over his
+forehead. "I suppose I was dreaming, Beattie, just before you came up;
+but I thought I saw them all in the Hall, talking and laughing over
+my death. Burrowes was telling how old I must be, because I moved the
+amendment to Flood in the Irish Parliament in '97; and Eames mentioned
+that I was Curran's junior in the great Bagenal record; and old Tysdal
+set them all in a roar by saying he had a vision of me standing at
+the gate of heaven, and instead of going in, as St. Peter invited me,
+stoutly refusing, and declaring I would move for a new trial! How like
+the rascals!"
+
+"Don't you think you'd be better in your own room? There's too much
+light and glare here."
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"I am sure of it. You need quiet, and the absence of all that stimulates
+the action of the brain."
+
+"And what do _you_, sir,--what does any one,--know about the brain's
+operations? You doctors have invented a sort of conventional cerebral
+organ, which, like lunar caustic, is decomposed by light; and in your
+vulgar materialism you would make out that what affects _your_ brain
+must act alike upon _mine_. I tell you, sir, it is darkness--obscurity,
+physical or moral, it matters not which--that irritates _me_, just as I
+feel provoked this moment by this muddling talk of yours about brain."
+
+"And yet I 'm talking about what my daily life and habits suggest _some_
+knowledge of," said Beattie, mildly.
+
+"So you are, sir, and the presumption is all on my side. If you'll
+kindly lend me your arm, I'll go back to my room."
+
+Step by step, slowly and painfully, he returned to his chamber, not
+uttering a word as he went.
+
+"Yes, this is better, doctor; this half light soothes; it is much
+pleasanter. One more kindness. I wrote to Lady Lendrick this morning to
+come up here. I suppose my combative spirit was high in me, and I wanted
+a round with the gloves,--or, indeed, without them; at all events, I
+sent the challenge. But _now_, doctor, I have to own myself a craven. I
+dread the visit Could you manage to interpose? Could you suggest that
+it is by your order I am not permitted to receive her? Could you
+hint"--here he smiled half maliciously--"that you do not think the time
+has come for anodynes,--eh, doctor?"
+
+"Leave it to me. I 'll speak to Lady Lendrick."
+
+"There 's another thing: not that it much matters; but it might perhaps
+be as well to send a few lines to the morning papers, to say the
+accounts of the Chief Baron are more favorable to-day; he passed a
+tranquil night, and so on. Pemberton won't like it, nor Hayes; but
+it will calm the fears of a very attached friend who calls here twice
+daily. You'd never guess him. He is the agent of the Globe Office, where
+I 'm insured. Ah, doctor, it was a bright thought of Philanthropy
+to establish an industrial enterprise that is bound, under heavy
+recognizances, to be grieved at our death."
+
+"I must not make you talk, Sir William. I must not encourage you
+to exert yourself. I 'll say good-bye, and look in upon you this
+afternoon."
+
+"Am I to have a book? Well; be it so. I I 'll sit and muse over the
+Attorney-General and his hopes."
+
+"I have got two very interesting miniatures here. I 'll leave them with
+you; you might like to look at them."
+
+"Miniatures! whose portraits are they?" asked the other, hastily, as he
+almost snatched them from his hand. "What a miserable juggler! what a
+stale trick this!" said he, as he opened the case which contained the
+young man's picture. "So, sir, you lend yourself to such attempts as
+these."
+
+"I don't understand you," said Beattie, indignantly.
+
+"Yes, sir, you understand me perfectly. You would do, by a piece of
+legerdemain, what you have not the courage to attempt openly. These are
+Tom Lendrick's children."
+
+"They are."
+
+"And this simpering young lady is her mother's image; pretty, pretty, no
+doubt; and a little--a shade, perhaps--of _espi�glerie_ above what her
+mother possessed. She was the silliest woman that ever turned a fool's
+head. She had the ineffable folly, sir, to believe she could persuade
+me to forgive my son for having married her; and when I handed her to a
+seat,--for she was at my knees,--she fainted."
+
+"Well. It is time to forgive him now. As for her, she is beyond
+forgiveness, or favor, either," said Beattie, with more energy than
+before.
+
+"There is no such trial to a man in a high calling as the temptation
+it offers him to step beyond it. Take care, sir, that with all your
+acknowledged ability, this temptation be not too much for you." The tone
+and manner in which the old judge delivered these words recalled the
+justice-seat. "It is an honor to me to have you as my doctor, sir.
+It would be to disparage my own intelligence to accept you as my
+confessor."
+
+"A doctor but discharges half his trust when he fails to warn his
+patient against the effects of irritability."
+
+"The man who would presume to minister to my temper or to my nature
+should be no longer medico of mine. With what intention, sir, did you
+bring me these miniatures?"
+
+"That you might see two bright and beautiful faces whose owners are
+bound to you by the strongest ties of blood."
+
+"Do you know, sir,--have you ever heard,--how their father, by his
+wilfulness, by his folly, by his heartless denial of my right to
+influence him, ruined the fortune that cost my life of struggle and
+labor to create?"
+
+The doctor shook his head, and the other continued: "Then I will tell
+it to you, sir. It is more than seventeen years to-day when the then
+Viceroy sent for me, and said, 'Baron Lendrick, there is no man, after
+Plunkett, to whom we owe more than to yourself.' I bowed, and said,
+'I do not accept the qualification, my Lord, even in favor of the
+distinguished Chancellor. I will not believe myself second to any.' I
+need not relate what ensued; the discussion was a long one,--it was also
+a warm one; but he came back at last to the object of the interview,
+which was to say that the Prime Minister was willing to recommend my
+name to her Majesty for the Peerage,--an honor, he was pleased to say,
+the public would see conferred upon me with approval; and I refused!
+Yes, sir, I refused what for thirty-odd years had formed the pride and
+the prize of my existence! I refused it, because I would not that her
+Majesty's favor should descend to one so unworthy of it as this
+fellow, or that his low-born children should inherit a high name of my
+procuring. I refused, sir, and I told the noble Marquess my reasons. He
+tried--pretty much as you have tried--to bring me to a more forgiving
+spirit; but I stopped him by saying, 'When I hear that your Excellency
+has invited to your table the scurrilous author of the lampoon against
+you in the "Satirist," I will begin to listen to the claims that may be
+urged on the score of forgiveness; not till then.'"
+
+"I am wrong--very wrong--to let you talk on themes like this; we must
+keep them for calmer moments." Beattie laid his finger on the pulse as
+he spoke, and counted the beats by his watch.
+
+"Well, sir, what says Death? Will he consent to a 'nolle prosequi,' or
+must the cause go on?"
+
+"You are not worse; and even that, after all this excitement, is
+something. Good-bye now till evening. No books,--no newspapers,
+remember. Doze; dream; do anything but excite yourself."
+
+"You are cruel, sir; you cut off all my enjoyments together. You deny
+me the resources of reading, and you deny me the solace of my wife's
+society." The cutting sarcasm of the last words was shown in the
+spiteful sparkle of his eye, and the insolent curl of his mouth; and
+as the doctor retired, the memory of that wicked look haunted him
+throughout the day.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. HOME DIPLOMACIES
+
+"Well, it 's done now, Lucy, and it can't be helped," said young
+Lendrick to his sister, as, with an unlighted cigar between his
+lips, and his hands in the pockets of his shooting-jacket, he walked
+impatiently up and down the drawing-room. "I 'm sure if I only suspected
+you were so strongly against it, I 'd not have done it."
+
+"My dear Tom, I'm only against it because I think papa would be so. You
+know we never see any one here when he is at home, and why should we
+now, because he is absent?"
+
+"Just for that reason. It's our only chance, girl."
+
+"Oh, Tom!"
+
+"Well, I don't mean that exactly, but I said it to startle you. No,
+Lucy; but, you see, here's how the matter stands. I have been three
+whole days in their company. On Tuesday the young fellow gave me that
+book of flies and the top-joint of my rod. Yesterday I lunched with
+them. To-day they pressed me so hard to dine with them that I felt
+almost rude in persisting to refuse; and it was as much to avoid the
+awkwardness of the situation as anything else that I asked them up to
+tea this evening."
+
+"I'm sure, Tom, if it would give you any pleasure--"
+
+"Of course it gives me pleasure," broke he in; "I don't suspect that
+fellows of my age like to live like hermits. And whom do I ever see down
+here? Old Mills and old Tobin, and Larry Day, the dog-breaker. I ask his
+pardon for putting him last, for he is the best of the three. Girls can
+stand this sort of nun's life, but I 'll be hanged if it will do for
+us."
+
+"And then, Tom," resumed she, in the same tone, "remember they are both
+perfect strangers. I doubt if you even know their names."
+
+"That I do,--the old fellow is Sir Brook something or other. It 's not
+Fogey, but it begins like it; and the other is called Trafford,--Lionel,
+I think, is his Christian name. A glorious fellow, too; was in the 9th
+Lancers and in the blues, and is now here with the fifty--th because he
+went it too hard in the cavalry. He had a horse for the Derby two years
+ago." The tone of proud triumph in which he made this announcement
+seemed to say, Now, all discussion about him may cease. "Not but," added
+he, after a pause, "you might like the old fellow best; he has such a
+world of stories, and he draws so beautifully. The whole time we were in
+the boat he was sketching something; and he has a book full of odds
+and ends; a tea-party in China, quail-shooting in Java, a wedding in
+Candia,--I can't tell what more; but he 's to bring them up here with
+him."
+
+"I was thinking, Tom, that it might be as well if you 'd go down and ask
+Dr. Mills to come to tea. It would take off some of the awkwardness of
+our receiving two strangers."
+
+"But they 're not strangers, Lucy; not a bit of it. I call him Trafford,
+and he calls me Lendrick; and the old cove is the most familiar old
+fellow I ever met."
+
+"Have you said anything to Nicholas yet?" asked she, in some eagerness.
+
+"No; and that's exactly what I want you to do for me. That old bear
+bullies us all, so that I can't trust myself to speak to him."
+
+"Well, don't go away, and I'll send for him now;" and she rang the bell
+as she spoke. A smart-looking lad answered the summons, to whom she
+said, "Tell Nicholas I want him."
+
+"Take my advice, Lucy, and merely say there are two gentlemen coming to
+tea this evening; don't let the old villain think you are consulting him
+about it, or asking his advice."
+
+"I must do it my own way," said she; "only don't interrupt. Don't
+meddle,--mind that, Tom." The door opened, and a very short, thick-set
+old man, dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, and drab breeches and
+white stockings, with large shoe-buckles in his shoes, entered. His face
+was large and red, the mouth immensely wide, and the eyes far set from
+each other, his low forehead being shadowed by a wig of coarse red
+hair, which moved when he spoke, and seemed almost to possess a sort of
+independent vitality.
+
+He had been reading when he was summoned, and his spectacles had been
+pushed up over his forehead, while he still held the county paper in his
+hand,--a sort of proud protest against being disturbed.
+
+"You heard that Miss Lucy sent for you?" said Tom Lendrick, haughtily,
+as his eye fell upon the newspaper.
+
+"I did," was the curt answer, as the old fellow, with a nervous shake of
+the head, seemed to announce that he was ready for battle.
+
+"What I wanted, Nicholas, was this," interposed the girl, in a voice of
+very winning sweetness; "Mr. Tom has invited two gentlemen this evening
+to tea."
+
+"To tay!" cried Nicholas, as if the fact staggered all credulity.
+
+"Yes, to tea; and I was thinking if you would go down to the town and
+get some biscuits, or a sponge-cake, perhaps--whatever, indeed, you
+thought best; and also beg Dr. Mills to step in, saying that as papa was
+away--"
+
+"That you was going to give a ball?"
+
+"No. Not exactly that, Nicholas," said she, smiling; "but that two
+friends of my brother's--"
+
+"And where did he meet his friends?" cried he, with a marked emphasis on
+the "friends." "Two strangers. God knows who or what! Poachers as like
+as anything else. The ould one might be worse."
+
+"Enough of this," said Tom, sternly. "Are you the master here? Go off,
+sir, and do what Miss Lucy has ordered you."
+
+"I will not,--the devil a step," said the old man, who now thrust the
+paper into a capacious pocket, and struck each hand on a hip. "Is it
+when the 'Jidge' is dying, when the newpapers has a column of the names
+that 's calling to ask after him, you are to be carousing and feastin'
+here?"
+
+"Dear Nicholas, there's no question of feasting. It is simply a cup
+of tea we mean to give; sorely there's no carousing in that. And as to
+grandpapa, papa says that he was certainly better yesterday, and Dr.
+Beattie has hopes now."
+
+"I have n't, then, and I know him better than Dr. Beattie."
+
+"What a pity they have n't sent for you for the consultation!" said Tom,
+ironically.
+
+"And look here, Nicholas," said Lucy, drawing the old man towards the
+door of a small room that led off the drawing-room, "we could have tea
+here; it will look less formal, and give less trouble; and Mears could
+wait,--he does it very well; and you need n't be put out at all."
+These last words fell to a whisper; but he was beyond reserve, beyond
+flattery. The last speech of her brother still rankled in his memory,
+and all that fell upon his ear since that fell unheeded.
+
+"I was with your grandfather, Master Tom," said the old man, slowly,
+"twenty-one years before you were born! I carried his bag down to Court
+the day he defended Neal O' Gorman for high treason, and I was with him
+the morning he shot Luke Dillon at Castle Knock; and this I 'll say and
+stand to, there 's not a man in Ireland, high or low, knows the Chief
+Baron better than myself."
+
+"It must be a great comfort to you both," said Tom; but his sister had
+laid her hand on his mouth and made the words unintelligible.
+
+"You'll say to Mr. Mills, Nicholas," said she, in her most coaxing way,
+"that I did not write, because I preferred sending my message by _you_,
+who could explain why I particularly wanted him this evening."
+
+"I'll go, Miss Lucy, resarving the point, as they say in the
+law,--resarving the point! because I don't give in that what you're
+doin' is right; and when the master comes home, I'm not goin' to defend
+it."
+
+"We must bear up under that calamity as well as we can," said the young
+man, insolently; but Nicholas never looked towards or seemed to hear
+him.
+
+"A barn-a-brack is better than a spongecake, because if there 's some of
+it left it does n't get stale, and one-and-six-pence will be enough; and
+I suppose you don't need a lamp?"
+
+"Well, Nicholas, I must say, I think it would be better; and two candles
+on the small table, and two on the piano."
+
+"Why don't you mentiou a fiddler?" said he, bitterly. "If it's a ball,
+there ought to be music?"
+
+Unable to control himself longer, young Lendrick wrenched open the
+sash-door, and walked out into the lawn.
+
+"The devil such a family for temper from this to Bantry!" said Nicholas;
+"and here's the company comin' already, or I 'm mistaken. There 's a
+boat makin' for the landing-place with two men in the stern."
+
+Lucy implored him once more to lose no time on his errand, and hastened
+away to make some change in her dress to receive the strangers.
+Meanwhile Tom, having seen the boat, walked down to the shore to meet
+his friends.
+
+Both Sir Brook and Trafford were enthusiastic in their praises of the
+spot. Its natural beauty was indeed great, but taste and culture had
+rendered it a marvel of elegance and refinement. Not merely were the
+trees grouped with reference to foliage and tint, but the flower-beds
+were so arranged that the laws of color should be respected, and thus
+these plats of perfume were not less luxuriously rich in odor than they
+were captivating as pictures.
+
+"It is all the governor's own doing," said Tom, proudly, "and he is
+continually changing the disposition of the plants. He says variety is
+a law of the natural world, and it is our duty to imitate it. Here comes
+my sister, gentlemen."
+
+As though set in a beautiful frame, the lovely girl stood for an instant
+in the porch, where drooping honeysuckles and the tangled branches of
+a vine hung around her, and then came courteously to meet and welcome
+them.
+
+"I am in ecstasy with all I see here, Miss Lendrick," said Sir Brook.
+"Old traveller that I am, I scarcely know where I have ever seen such a
+combination of beauty."
+
+"Papa will be delighted to hear this," said she, with a pleasant smile;
+"it is the flattery he loves best."
+
+"I 'm always saying we could keep up a salmon-weir on the river for a
+tithe of what these carnations and primroses cost us," said Tom.
+
+"Why, sir, if you had been in Eden you 'd have made it a market garden,"
+said the old man.
+
+"If the governor was a Duke of Devonshire, all these-caprices might be
+pardonable; but my theory is, roast-beef before roses."
+
+While young Lendrick attached himself to Trafford, and took him here and
+there to show him the grounds, Sir Brook walked beside Lucy, who did the
+honors of the place with a most charming courtesy.
+
+"I am almost ashamed, sir," said she, as they turned towards the house,
+"to have asked you to see such humble objects as these to which we
+attach value, for my brother tells me you are a great traveller; but
+it is just possible you have met in your journeys others who, like us,
+lived so much out of the world that they fancied they had the prettiest
+spot in it for their own."
+
+"You must not ask me what I think of all I have seen: here, Miss
+Lendrick, till my enthusiasm calms down;" and his look of admiration,
+so palpably addressed to herself, sent a flush to her cheek. "A man's
+belongings are his history," said Sir Brook, quickly turning the
+conversation into an easier channel: "show me his study, his stable,
+his garden; let me see his hat, his cane, the volume he thrusts into
+his pocket, and I 'll make you an indifferent good guess about his daily
+doings."
+
+"Tell me of papa's. Come here, Tom," cried she, as the two young men
+came towards her, "and listen to a bit of divination."
+
+"Nay, I never promised a lecture. I offered a confidence," said he, in
+a half whisper; but she went on: "Sir Brook says that he reads people
+pretty much as Cuvier pronounced on a mastodon, by some small minute
+detail that pertained to them. Here's Tom's cigar-case," said she,
+taking it from his pocket; "what do you infer from that, sir?"
+
+"That he smokes the most execrable tobacco."
+
+"But can you say why?" asked Tom, with a sly twinkle of his eye.
+
+"Probably for the same reason I do myself," said Sir Brook, producing a
+very cheap cigar.
+
+"Oh, that's a veritable Cuban compared to one of mine," cried Tom; "and
+by way of making my future life miserable, here has been Mr. Trafford
+filling my pocket with real havannahs, giving me a taste for luxuries I
+ought never to have known of."
+
+"Know everything, sir, go everywhere, see all that the world can show
+you; the wider a man's experiences the larger his nature and the more
+open his heart," said Foss-brooke, boldly.
+
+"I like the theory," said Trafford to Miss Lendrick; "do you?"
+
+"Sir Brook never meant it for women, I fancy," said she, in a low tone;
+but the old man overheard her, and said: "You are right. The guide ought
+to know every part of the mountain; the traveller need only know the
+path."
+
+"Here comes a guide who is satisfied with very short excursions," cried
+Tom, laughing; "this is our parson, Dr. Mills."
+
+The little, mellow-looking, well-cared-for person who now joined them
+was a perfect type of old-bachelorhood, in its aspect of not unpleasant
+selfishness. Everything about him was neat, orderly, and appropriate;
+and though you saw at a glance it was all for himself and his own
+enjoyment it was provided, his good manners and courtesy were ever ready
+to extend its benefits to others; and a certain genial look he wore, and
+a manner that nature had gifted him with, did him right good service in
+life, and made him pass for "an excellent fellow, though not much of a
+parson."
+
+He was of use now, if only that by his presence Lucy felt more at ease,
+not to say that his violoncello, which always remained at the Nest, made
+a pleasant accompaniment when she played, and that he sang with much
+taste some of those lyrics which arc as much linked to Ireland by poetry
+as by music.
+
+"I wish he was our chaplain,--by Jove I do!" whispered Trafford to
+Lendrick; "he's the jolliest fellow of his cloth I have ever met."
+
+"And such a cook," muttered the other.
+
+"A cook!"
+
+"Ay, a cook. I 'll make him ask us to dinner, and you 'll tell me if you
+ever ate fish as he gives it, or tasted macaroni as dressed by him. I
+have a salmon for you, doctor, a ten-pound fish. I wish it were bigger!
+but it is in splendid order."
+
+"Did you set it?" asked the parson, eagerly.
+
+"What does he mean by set it?" whispered Trafford.
+
+"Setting means plunging it in very hot water soon after killing it,
+to preserve and harden the 'curd.' Yes; and I took your hint about the
+arbutus leaves, too, doctor. I covered it all up with them."
+
+"You are a teachable youth, and shall be rewarded. Come and eat him
+to-morrow. Dare I hope that these gentlemen are disengaged, and will
+honor my poor parsonage? Will you favor me with your company at five
+o'clock, sir?"
+
+Sir Brook bowed, and accepted the invitation with pleasure.
+
+"And you, sir?"
+
+"Only too happy," said Trafford.
+
+"Lucy, my dear, you must be one of us."
+
+"Oh, I could not; it is impossible, doctor,--you know it is."
+
+"I know nothing of the kind."
+
+"Papa away,--not to speak of his never encouraging us to leave home,"
+muttered she, in a whisper.
+
+"I accept no excuses, Lucy; such a rare opportunity may not occur to me
+in a hurry. Mrs. Brennan, my housekeeper, will be so proud to see you,
+that I 'm not sure she 'll not treat these gentlemen to her brandy
+peaches,--a delicacy, I feel bound to say, she has never conceded to any
+one less than the bishop of the diocese."
+
+"Don't ask me, doctor. I know that papa--"
+
+But he broke in, saying,--"'You know I 'm your priest, and your
+conscience is mine;' and besides, I really do want to see how the
+parsonage will look with a lady at the top of the table: who knows what
+it may lead to?"
+
+"Come, Lucy, that's the nearest thing to a proposal I 've heard for some
+time. You really must go now," said Tom.
+
+"Papa will not like it," whispered she in his ear.
+
+"Then he'll have to settle the matter with me, Lucy," said the doctor,
+"for it was I who overruled you."
+
+"Don't look to me, Miss Lendrick, to sustain you in your refusal," said
+Sir Brook, as the young girl turned towards him. "I have the strongest
+interest in seeing the doctor successful."
+
+If Trafford said nothing, the glance he gave her more than backed the
+old man's speech, and she turned away half vexed, half pleased, puzzled
+how to act, and flattered at the same time by an amount of attention so
+new to her and so strange. Still she could not bring herself to promise
+she would go, and wished them all good-night at last, without a pledge.
+
+"Of course she will," muttered Tom in the doctor's ear. "She's afraid
+of the governor; but I know he'll not be displeased,--you may reckon on
+her."
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND
+
+From the day that Sir Brook made the acquaintance of Tom Lendrick and
+his sister, he determined he would "pitch his tent," as he called it,
+for some time at Killaloe. They had, so to say, captivated the old man.
+The young fellow, by his frank, open, manly nature, his ardent love
+of sport in every shape, his invariable good-humor, and more than all
+these, by the unaffected simplicity of his character, had strongly
+interested him; while Lucy had made a far deeper impression by her
+gentleness, her refinement, an elegance in deportment that no teaching
+ever gives, and, along with these, a mind stored with thought and
+reflectiveness. Let us, however, be just to each, and own that her
+beauty and the marvellous fascination of her smile gave her, even in
+that old man's eyes, an irresistible charm. It was a very long bygone,
+but he had once been in love, and the faint flicker of the memory
+had yet survived in his heart. It was just as likely Lucy bore no
+resemblance to her he had loved, but he fancied she did,--he imagined
+that she was her very image. That was the smile, the glance, the tone,
+the gesture which once had set his heart a-throbbing, and the illusion
+threw around her an immense fascination.
+
+She liked him too. Through all the strange incongruities of his
+character, his restless love of adventure and excitement, there ran a
+gentle liking for quiet pleasures. He loved scenery passionately, and
+with a painter's taste for color and form; he loved poetry, which he
+read with a wondrous charm of voice and intonation. Nor was it without
+its peculiar power, this homage of an old, old man, who rendered her the
+attentive service of a devoted admirer.
+
+There is very subtle flattery in the obsequious devotion of age to
+youth. It is, at least, an honest worship, an unselfish offering, and in
+this way the object of it may well feel proud of its tribute.
+
+From the vicar, Dr. Mills, Fossbrooke had learned the chief events
+of Dr. Lendrick's history, of his estrangement from his father, his
+fastidious retirement from the world, and, last of all, his narrow
+fortune, apparently now growing narrower, since within the last year he
+had withdrawn his son from the University on the score of its expense.
+
+A gold-medallist and a scholar, Dr. Lendrick would have eagerly coveted
+such honors for his son. It was, probably, the one triumph in life he
+would have set most store by, but Tom was one not made for collegiate
+successes. He had abilities, but they were not teachable qualities;
+he could pick up a certain amount of almost anything,--he could learn
+nothing. He could carry away from a chance conversation an amount of
+knowledge it had cost the talkers years to acquire, and yet set him
+down regularly to work book-fashion, and either from want of energy, or
+concentration, or of that strong will which masters difficulties just
+as a full current carries all before it--whichever of these was his
+defect,--he arose from his task wearied, worn, but unadvanced.
+
+When, therefore, his father would speak, as he sometimes did,
+in confidence to the vicar, in a tone of depression about Tom's
+deficiencies, the honest parson would feel perfectly lost in amazement
+at what he meant. To his eyes Tom Lendrick was a wonder, a prodigy.
+There was not a theme he could not talk on, and talk well too. "It was
+but the other day he told the chief engineer of the Shannon Company more
+about the geological formation of the river-basin than all his staff
+knew. Ay, and what's stranger," added the vicar, "he understands the
+whole Colenso controversy better than I do myself." It is just possible
+that in the last panegyric there was nothing of exaggeration or excess.
+"And with all that, sir, his father goes on brooding over his neglected
+education, and foreshadowing the worst results from his ignorance."
+
+"He is a fine fellow," said Fossbrooke, "but not to be compared with his
+sister."
+
+"Not for mere looks, perhaps, nor for a graceful manner, and a winning
+address; but who would think of ranking Lucy's abilities with her
+brother's?"
+
+"Not I," said Fossbrooke, boldly, "for I place hers far and away above
+them."
+
+A sly twinkle of the parson's eye showed to what class of advantages
+he ascribed the other's preference; but he said no more, and the
+controversy ended.
+
+Every morning found Sir Brook at the "Swan's Nest." He was fond of
+gardening, and had consummate taste in laying out ground, so that many
+pleasant surprises had been prepared for Dr. Lendrick's return. He drew,
+too, with great skill, and Lucy made considerable progress under his
+teaching; and as they grew more intimate, and she was not ashamed of the
+confession that she delighted in the Georgics of Virgil, they read whole
+hours together of those picturesque descriptions of rural life and its
+occupations, which are as true to nature at this hour as on the day they
+were written.
+
+Perhaps the old man fancied that it was he who had suggested this
+intense appreciation of the poet. It is just possible that the young
+girl believed that she had reclaimed a wild, erratic, eccentric nature,
+and brought him back ta the love of simple pleasures and a purer source
+of enjoyment. Whichever way the truth inclined, each was happy, each
+contented. And how fond are we all, of every age, of playing the
+missionary, of setting off into the savage districts of our neighbors'
+natures and combating their false idols, their superstitions and strange
+rites! The least adventurous and the least imaginative have these little
+outbursts of conversion, and all are more or less propagandists.
+
+It was one morning, a bright and glorious one too, that, while Tom
+and Lucy were yet at breakfast, Sir Brook arrived and entered the
+breakfast-room.
+
+"What a day for a gray hackle, in that dark pool under the larch-trees!"
+cried Tom, as he saw him.
+
+"What a day for a long walk to Mount Laurel!" said Lucy. "You said,
+t'other morning, you wanted cloud effects on the upper lake. I 'll show
+you splendid ones to-day."
+
+"I 'll promise you a full basket before four o'clock," broke in Tom.
+
+"I 'll promise you a full sketch-book," said Lucy, with one of her
+sweetest smiles.
+
+"And I 'm going to refuse both; for I have a plan of my own, and a plan
+not to be gainsaid."
+
+"I know it, You want us to go to work on that fish-pond. I'm certain
+it's that."
+
+"No, Tom; it's the catalogue,--the weary catalogue that he told me, as a
+punishment for not being able to find Machiavelli's comedies last week,
+he 'd make me sit down to on the first lovely morning that came."
+
+"Better that than those dreary Georgics which remind one of school, and
+the third form. But what 's your plan, Sir Brook? We have thought of all
+the projects that can terrify us, and you look as if it ought to be a
+terror."
+
+"Mine is a plan for pleasure, and pleasure only; so pack up at once and
+get ready. Trafford arrived this morning."
+
+"Where is he? I am so glad! Where's Trafford?" cried Tom, delighted.
+
+"I have despatched him with the vicar and two well-filled hampers to
+Holy Island, where I mean that we shall all picnic. There 's my plan."
+
+"And a jolly plan too! I adhere unconditionally."
+
+"And you, Lucy, what do you say?" asked Sir Brook, as the young girl
+stood with a look of some indecision and embarrassment.
+
+"I don't say that it's not a very pleasant project, but--"
+
+"But what, Lucy? Where 's the but?"
+
+She whispered a few words in his ear, and he cried out: "Is n't this too
+bad? She tells me Nicholas does not like all this gayety; that Nicholas
+disapproves of our mode of life."
+
+"No, Tom; I only said Nicholas thinks that papa would not like it."
+
+"Couldn't we see Nicholas? Couldn't we have a commission to examine
+Nicholas?" asked Sir Brook, laughingly.
+
+"I 'll not be on it, that 's all I know; for I should finish by chucking
+the witness into the Shannon. Come along, Lucy; don't let us lose this
+glorious morning. I 'll get some lines and hooks together. Be sure you
+'re ready when I come back."
+
+As the door closed after him, Sir Brook drew near to Lucy, where she
+stood in an attitude of doubt and hesitation. "I mustn't risk your good
+opinion of me rashly. If you really dislike this excursion, I will give
+it up," said he, in a low, gentle voice.
+
+"Dislike it? No; far from it. I suspect I would enjoy it more than
+any of you. My reluctance was simply on the ground that all this is
+so unlike the life we have been leading hitherto. Papa will surely
+disapprove of it. Oh, there comes Nicholas with a letter!" cried she,
+opening the sash-window. "Give it to me; it is from papa."
+
+She broke the seal hurriedly, and ran rapidly over the lines. "Oh, yes!
+I will go now, and go with delight too. It is full of good news. He is
+to see grandpapa, if not to-morrow, the day after. He hopes all will
+be well. Papa knows your name, Sir Brook. He says, 'Ask your friend
+Sir Brook if he be any relative of a Sir Brook Foss-brooke who rescued
+Captain Langton some forty years ago from a Neapolitan prison. The
+print-shops were filled with his likeness when I was a boy.' Was he one
+of your family?" inquired she, looking at him.
+
+"I am the man," said he, calmly and coldly. "Langton was sentenced to
+the galleys for life for having struck the Count d'Aconi across the face
+with his glove; and the Count was nephew to the King. They had him at
+Capri working in chains, and I landed with my yacht's crew and liberated
+him."
+
+"What a daring thing to do!"
+
+"Not so daring as you fancy. The guard was surprised, and fled. It was
+only when reinforced that they showed fight. Our toughest enemies were
+the galley-slaves, who, when they discovered that we never meant to
+liberate them, attacked us with stones. This scar on my temple is a
+memorial of the affair."
+
+"And Langton, what became of him?"
+
+"He is now Lord Burrowfield. He gave me two fingers to shake the last
+time I met him at the Travellers'."
+
+"Oh, don't say that! Oh, don't tell me of such ingratitude!"
+
+"My dear child, people usually regard gratitude as a debt which, once
+acknowledged, is acquitted; and perhaps they are right. It makes all
+intercourse freer and less trammelled."
+
+"Here comes Tom. May I tell him this story, or will you tell him
+yourself?"
+
+"Not either, my dear Lucy. Your brother's blood is over-hot as it is.
+Let him not have any promptings to such exploits as these."
+
+"But may I tell papa?"
+
+"Just as well not, Lucy. There were scores of wild things attributed to
+me in those days. He may possibly remember some of them, and begin to
+suspect that his daughter might be in better company."
+
+"How was it that you never told me of this exploit?" asked she, looking,
+not without admiration, at the hard stern features before her.
+
+"My dear child, egotism is the besetting sin of old people, and even
+the most cautious lapse into it occasionally. Set me once a-talking of
+myself, all my prudence, all my reserve vanishes; so that, as a measure
+of safety for my friends and myself too, I avoid the theme when I can.
+There! Tom is beckoning to us. Let us go to him at once."
+
+Holy Island, or Inishcaltra, to give it its Irish name, is a wild spot,
+with little remarkable about it, save the ruins of seven churches and
+a curious well of fabulous depth. It was, however, a favorite spot with
+the vicar, whose taste in localities was somehow always associated with
+some feature of festivity, the great merit of the present spot being
+that you could dine without any molestation from beggars. In such
+estimation, indeed, did he hold the class, that he seriously believed
+their craving importunity to be one of the chief reasons of dyspepsia,
+and was profoundly convinced that the presence of Lazarus at his gate
+counterbalanced many of the goods which fortune had bestowed upon Dives.
+
+"Here we dine in real comfort," said he, as he seated himself under the
+shelter of an ivy-covered wall, with a wide reach of the lake at his
+feet.
+
+"When I come back from California with that million or two," said
+Tom, "I 'll build a cottage here, where we can all come and dine
+continually."
+
+"Let us keep the anniversary of the present day as a sort of foundation
+era," said the vicar.
+
+"I like everything that promises pleasure," said Sir Brook, "but I like
+to stipulate that we do not draw too long a bill on Fortune. Think how
+long a year is. This time twelvemonth, for example, you, my dear doctor,
+may be a bishop, and not over inclined to these harmless levities. Tom
+there will be, as he hints, gold-crushing, at the end of the earth.
+Trafford, not improbably, ruling some rajah's kingdom in the far East.
+Of your destiny, fair Lucy, brightest of all, it is not for me to speak.
+Of my own it is not worth speaking."
+
+"Nolo episcopari," said the vicar; "pass me the Madeira."
+
+"You forget, perhaps, that is the phrase for accepting the mitre," said
+Sir Brook, laughing. "Bishops, like belles, say 'No' when they mean
+'Yes.'"
+
+"And who told you that belles did?" broke in Lucy. "I am in a sad
+minority here, but I stand up for my sex."
+
+"I repeat a popular prejudice, fair lady."
+
+"And Lucy will not have it that belles are as illogical as bishops? I
+see I was right in refusing the bench," said the vicar.
+
+"What bright boon of Fortune is Trafford meditating the rejection of?"
+said Sir Brook; and the young fellow's cheek grew crimson as he tried to
+laugh off the reply.
+
+"Who made this salad?" cried Tom.
+
+"It was I; who dares to question it?" said Lucy. "The doctor has
+helped himself twice to it, and that test I take to be a certificate to
+character."
+
+"I used to have some skill in dressing a salad, but I have foregone the
+practice for many a day; my culinary gift got me sent out of Austria in
+twenty-four hours. Oh, it 's nothing that deserves the name of a story,"
+said Sir Brook, as the others looked at him for an explanation. "It was
+as long ago as the year 1806. Sir Robert Adair had been our minister at
+Vienna, when, a rupture taking place between the two Governments, he was
+recalled. He did not, however, return to England, but continued to live
+as a private citizen at Vienna. Strangely enough, from the moment that
+our embassy ceased to be recognized by the Government, our countrymen
+became objects of especial civility. I myself, amongst the rest, was
+the _bien-venu_ in some of the great houses, and even invited by Count
+Cobourg Cohari to those _d�jeuners_ which he gave with such splendor at
+Maria H�lfe.
+
+"At one of these, as a dish of salad was handed round, instead of eating
+it, like the others, I proceeded to make a very complicated dressing for
+it on my plate, calling for various condiments, and seasoning my mess in
+a most refined and ingenious manner. No sooner had I given the finishing
+touch to my great achievement than the Grand-Duchess Sophia, who it
+seems had watched the whole performance, sent a servant round to beg
+that I would send her my plate. She accompanied the request with a
+little bow and a smile whose charm I can still recall. Whatever the
+reason, before I awoke next morning, an agent of the police entered my
+room and informed me my passports were made out for Dresden, and that
+his orders were to give me the pleasure of his society till I crossed
+the frontier. There was no minister, no envoy to appeal to, and nothing
+left but to comply. They said 'Go,' and I went."
+
+"And all for a dish of salad!" cried the vicar.
+
+"All for the bright eyes of an archduchess, rather," broke in Lucy,
+laughing.
+
+The old man's grateful smile at the compliment to his gallantry showed
+how, even in a heart so world-worn, the vanity of youth survived.
+
+"I declare it was very hard," said Tom,--"precious hard."
+
+"If you mean to give up the salad, so think I too," cried the vicar.
+
+"I 'll be shot if I 'd have gone," broke in Trafford.
+
+"You'd probably have been shot if you had stayed," replied Tom.
+
+"There are things we submit to in life, not because the penalty of
+resistance affrights us, but because we half acquiesce in their justice.
+You, for instance, Trafford, are well pleased to be here on leave,
+and enjoy yourself, as I take it, considerably; and yet the call
+of duty--some very commonplace duty, perhaps--would make you return
+tomorrow in all haste."
+
+"Of course it would," said Lucy.
+
+"I 'm not so sure of it," murmured Trafford, sullenly; "I 'd rather go
+into close arrest for a week than I 'd lose this day here."
+
+"Bravo! here's your health, Lionel," cried Tom. "I do like to hear a
+fellow say he is willing to pay the cost of what pleases him."
+
+"I must preach wholesome doctrine, my young friends," broke in the
+vicar. "Now that we have dined well, I would like to say aword on
+abstinence."
+
+"You mean to take no coffee, doctor, then?" asked Lucy, laughing.
+
+"That I do, my sweet child,--coffee and a pipe, too, for I know you are
+tolerant of tobacco."
+
+"I hope she is," said Tom, "or she 'd have a poor time of it in the
+house with me."
+
+"I 'll put no coercion upon my tastes on this occasion, for I 'll take a
+stroll through the ruins, and leave you to your wine," said she, rising.
+
+They protested, in a mass, against her going. "We cannot lock the door,
+Lucy, _de facto_," said Sir Brook, "but we do it figuratively."
+
+"And in that case I make my escape by the window," said she, springing
+through an old lancet-shaped orifice in the Abbey wall.
+
+"There goes down the sun and leaves us but a gray twilight," said Sir
+Brook, mournfully, as he looked after her. "If there were only enough
+beauty on earth, I verily believe we might dispense with parsons."
+
+"Push me over the bird's-eye, and let me nourish myself till your
+millennium comes," said the vicar.
+
+"What a charming girl she is! her very beauty fades away before the
+graceful attraction of her manner!" whispered Sir Brook to the doctor.
+
+"Oh, if you but knew her as I do! If you but knew how, sacrificing all
+the springtime of her bright youth, she has never had a thought save
+to make herself the companion of her poor father,--a sad, depressed,
+sorrow-struck man, only rescued from despair by that companionship! I
+tell you, sir, there is more courage in submitting one's self to the
+nature of another than in facing a battery."
+
+Sir Brook grasped the parson's hand and shook it cordially. The action
+spoke more than any words. "And the brother, doctor,--what say you of
+the brother?" whispered he.
+
+"One of those that the old adage says 'either makes a spoon or spoils
+the horn.' That 's Master Tom there."
+
+Low as the words were uttered, they caught the sharp ears of him they
+spoke of, and with a laughing eye he cried out, "What 's that evil
+prediction you 're uttering about me, doctor?"
+
+"I am just telling Sir Brook here that it's pure head or tail how you
+turn out. There's stuff in you to make a hero, but it's just as likely
+you 'll stop short at a highwayman."
+
+"I think I could guess which of the two would best suit the age we live
+in," said Tom, gayly. "Are we to have another bottle of that Madeira,
+for I suspect I see the doctor putting up the corkscrew?"
+
+"You are to have no more wine than what's before you till you land me
+at the quay of Killaloe. When temperance means safety as well as
+forbearance, it's one of the first of virtues."
+
+The vicar, indeed, soon grew impatient to depart. Fine as the evening
+was then, it might change. There was a feeling, too, not of damp, but
+chilliness; at all events, he was averse to being on the water late; and
+as he was the great promoter of these little convivial gatherings, his
+word was law.
+
+It is not easy to explain how it happened that Trafford sat beside Lucy.
+Perhaps the trim of the boat required it; certainly, however, nothing
+required that the vicar, who sat next Lucy on the other side, should
+fall fast asleep almost as soon as he set foot on board. Meanwhile
+Sir Brook and Tom had engaged in an animated discussion as to the
+possibility of settling in Ireland as a man settles in some lone island
+in the Pacific, teaching the natives a few of the needs of civilization
+and picking up a few convenient ways of theirs in turn, Sir Brook
+warming with the theme so far as to exclaim at last, "If I only had a
+few of those thousands left me which I lost, squandered, or gave away, I
+'d try the scheme, and you should be my lieutenant, Tom."
+
+It was one of those projects, very pleasant in their way, where men can
+mingle the serious with the ludicrous, where actual wisdom may go hand
+in hand with downright absurdity; and so did they both understand it,
+mingling, the very sagest reflections with projects the wildest and most
+eccentric. Their life, as they sketched it, was to be almost savage in
+freedom, untrammelled by all the tiresome conventionalities of the outer
+world, and at the same time offering such an example of contentedness
+and comfort as to shame the condition of all without the Pale.
+
+They agreed that the vicar must join them; he should be their Bishop.
+He might grumble a little at first about the want of hot plates or
+finger-glasses, but he would soon fall into their ways, and some native
+squaw would console him for the loss of Mrs. Brennan's housekeeping
+gifts.
+
+And Trafford and Lucy all this time,--what did they talk of? Did they,
+too, imagine a future and plan out a life-road in company? Far too timid
+for that,--they lingered over the past, each asking some trait of the
+other's childhood, eager to hear any little incident which might
+mark character or indicate temper. And at last they came down to the
+present,--to the very hour they lived in, and laughingly wondered at
+the intimacy that had grown up between them. "Only twelve days to-morrow
+since we first met," said Lucy, and her color rose as she said it, "and
+here we are talking away as if--as if--"
+
+"As if what?" cried he, only by an effort suppressing her name as it
+rose to his lips.
+
+"As if we knew each other for years. To me it seems the strangest thing
+in the world,--I who have never had friendships or companionships. To
+you, I have no doubt, it is common enough."
+
+"But it is not," cried he, eagerly. "Such fortune never befell me
+before. I have gone a good deal into life,--seen scores of people in
+country-houses and the like; but I never met any one before I could
+speak to of myself,--I mean, that I had courage to tell--not that,
+exactly--but that I wanted them to know I was n't so bad a fellow--so
+reckless or so heartless as people thought me."
+
+"And is that the character you bear?" said she, with, though not visible
+to him, a faint smile on her mouth.
+
+"I think it's what my family would say of me,--I mean now, for once on a
+time I was a favorite at home."
+
+"And why are you not still?"
+
+"Because I was extravagant; because I went into debt; because I got
+very easily into scrapes, and very badly out of them,--not dishonorably,
+mind; the scrapes I speak of were money troubles, and they brought me
+into collision with my governor. That was how it came about I was sent
+over here. They meant as a punishment what has turned out the greatest
+happiness of my life."
+
+"How cold the water is!" said Lucy, as, taking off her glove, she
+suffered her hand to dip in the water beside the boat.
+
+"Deliciously cold," said he, as, plunging in his hand, he managed, as
+though by accident, to touch hers. She drew it rapidly away, however,
+and then, to prevent the conversation returning to its former channel,
+said aloud: "What _are_ you laughing over so heartily, Sir Brook? You
+and Tom appear to have fallen upon a mine of drollery. Do share it with
+us."
+
+"You shall hear it all one of these days, Lucy. Jog the doctor's arm now
+and wake him up, for I see the lights at the boat-house, and we shall
+soon be on shore."
+
+"And sorry I am for it," muttered Trafford, in a whisper; "I wish this
+night could be drawn out to years."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. WAITING ON
+
+On the sixth day after Dr. Lendrick's arrival in Dublin--a fruitless
+journey so far as any hope of reconciliation was concerned--he resolved
+to return home. His friend Beattie, however, induced him to delay
+his departure to the-next day, clinging to some small hope from a few
+words-that had dropped from Sir William on that same morning. "Let me
+see you to-night, doctor; I have a note to show you which I could not
+to-day with all these people about me." Now, the people in question
+resolved themselves into one person, Lady Lendrick, who indeed bustled
+into the room and out of it, slammed doors and upset chairs in a fashion
+that might well have excused the exaggeration that converted her into
+a noun of multitude. A very warm altercation had occurred, too, in the
+doctor's presence with reference to some letter from India, which
+Lady Lendrick was urging Sir William to reply to, but which he firmly
+declared he would not answer.
+
+"How I am to treat a man subject to such attacks of temper, so easily
+provoked, and so incessantly irritated, is not clear to me. At all
+events I will see him to-night, and hear what he has to say to me. I am
+sure it has no concern with this letter from India." With these words
+Beattie induced his friend to defer his journey for another day.
+
+It was a long and anxious day to poor Lendrick. It was not alone that
+he had to suffer the bitter disappointment of all his hopes of being
+received by his father and admitted to some gleam of future favor, but
+he had discovered that certain debts which he had believed long settled
+by the judge were still outstanding against him, Lady Lendrick having
+interfered to prevent their payment, while she assured the creditors
+that if they had patience Dr. Lendrick would one day or other be in a
+position to acquit them. Between two and three thousand pounds thus hung
+over him of indebtedness above all his calculations, and equally above
+all his ability to meet.
+
+"We thought you knew all this, Dr. Lendrick," said Mr. Hack, Sir
+William's agent; "we imagined you were a party to the arrangement,
+understanding that you were reluctant to bring these debts under the
+Chief Baron's eyes, being moneys lent to your wife's relations."
+
+"I believed that they were paid," was all his reply, for the story was
+a painful one of trust betrayed and confidence abused, and he did not
+desire to revive it. He had often been told that his stepmother was the
+real obstacle to all hope of reconciliation with his father, but that
+she had pushed her enmity to him to the extent of his ruin was more than
+he was prepared for. They had never met, but at one time letters had
+frequently passed between them. Hers were marvels of good wishes and
+kind intentions, dashed with certain melancholy reflections over some
+shadowy unknown something which had been the cause of his estrangement
+from his father, but which time and endurance might not impossibly
+diminish the bitterness of, though with very little hope of leading to
+a more amicable relation. She would assume, besides, occasionally a kind
+of companionship in sorrow, and, as though the confession had burst from
+her unawares, avow that Sir William's temper was more than human nature
+was called upon to submit to, and that years only added to those violent
+outbursts of passion which made the existence of all around him
+a perpetual martyrdom. These always wound up with some sweet
+congratulations on "Tom's good fortune in his life of peaceful
+retirement," and the "tranquil pleasures of that charming spot of which
+every one tells me such wonders, and which the hope of visiting is one
+of my most entrancing daydreams." We give the passage textually,
+because it occurred without a change of a word thus in no less than five
+different letters.
+
+This formal repetition of a phrase, and certain mistakes she made
+about the names of his children, first opened Lendrick's eyes as to
+the sincerity and affection of his correspondent, for he was the least
+suspicious of men, and regarded distrust as a disgrace to him who
+entertained it.
+
+Over all these things now did he ponder during this long dreary day.
+He did not like to go out lest he should meet old acquaintances and be
+interrogated about his father, of whom he knew less than almost every
+one. He shunned the tone of compassionate interest men met him with, and
+he dreaded even the old faces that reminded him of the past. He could
+not read: he tried, but could not. After a few minutes he found that
+his thoughts wandered off from the book and centred on his own concerns,
+till his head ached with the weary round of those difficulties which
+came ever back, and back, and back again undiminished, unrelieved, and
+unsolved. The embarrassments of life are not, like chess problems, to be
+resolved by a skilful combination: they are to be encountered by temper,
+by patience, by daring at one time, by submission at another, by a
+careful consideration of a man's own powers, and by a clear-sighted
+estimate of his neighbors; and all these exercised not beforehand, nor
+in retirement, but on the very field itself where the conflict is raging
+and the fight at its hottest.
+
+It was late at night when Beattie returned home, and entered the study
+where Lendrick sat awaiting him. "I am very late, Tom," said he, as he
+threw himself into an arm-chair, like one fatigued and exhausted; "but
+it was impossible to get away. Never in all my life have I seen him
+so full of anecdote, so abounding in pleasant recollections, so
+ready-witted, and so brilliant. I declare to you that if I could but
+recite the things he said, or give them even with a faint semblance of
+the way he told them, it would be the most amusing page of bygone
+Irish history. It was a grand review of all the celebrated men whom he
+remembered in his youth, from the eccentric Lord Bristol, the Bishop of
+Down, to O'Connell and Shiel. Nor did his own self-estimate, high as
+it was, make the picture in which he figured less striking, nor less
+memorable his concluding words, as he said, 'These fellows are all in
+history, Beattie,--every man of them. There are statues to them in our
+highways, and men visit the spots that gave them birth; and here am I,
+second to none of them. Trinity College and the Four Courts will tell
+you if I speak in vanity; and here am I; and the only question about me
+is, when I intend to vacate the bench, when it will be my good pleasure
+to resign--they are not particular which--my judgeship or my life. But,
+sir, I mean not to do either; I mean to live and protest against the
+inferiority of the men around me, and the ingratitude of the country
+that does not know how to appreciate the one man of eminence it
+possesses.' I assure you, Tom, vain and insolent as the speech was, as
+I listened I thought it was neither. There was a haughty dignity
+about him, to which his noble bead and his deep sonorous voice and his
+commanding look lent effect that overcame all thought of attributing to
+such a man any over-estimate of his powers."
+
+"And this note that he wished to show you,--what was it?"
+
+"Oh, the note was a few lines written in an adjoining room by Balfour,
+the Viceroy's secretary. It seems that his Excellency, finding all other
+seductions fail, thought of approaching your father through you."
+
+"Through _me!_ It was a bright inspiration."
+
+"Yes; he sent Balfour to ask if the Chief Baron would feel gratified by
+the post of Hospital Inspector at the Cape being offered to you. It is
+worth eight hundred a year, and a house."
+
+"Well, what answer did he give?" asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+
+"He directed Balfour, who only saw Lady Lendrick, to reduce the proposal
+to writing. I don't fancy that the accomplished young gentleman exactly
+liked the task, but he did not care to refuse, and so he sat down and
+wrote one of the worst notes I ever read."
+
+"Worst--in what way?"
+
+"In every way. It was scarcely intelligible, without a previous
+knowledge of its contents, and so worded as to imply that when the Chief
+Baron had acceded to the proposal, he had so bound himself in gratitude
+to the Government that all honorable retreat was closed to him. I wish
+you saw your father's face when he read it. 'Beattie,' said he, 'I have
+no right to say Tom must refuse this offer; but if he should do so, I
+will make the document you see there be read in the House, and my
+name is not William Lendrick if it do not cost them more than they are
+prepared for. Go now and consult your friend;' it was so he called you.
+'If his wants are such that this place is of consequence to him, let him
+accept it. I shall not ask his reasons for whatever course he may take.
+_My_ reply is already written, and to his Excellency in person.' This
+he said in a way to imply that its tone was one not remarkable for
+conciliation or courtesy.
+
+"I thought the opportunity a favorable one to say that you were in town
+at the moment, that the accounts of his illness had brought you up, and
+that you were staying at my house.
+
+"'The sooner will you be able to communicate with him, sir,' said he,
+haughtily."
+
+"No more than that!"
+
+"No more, except that he added, 'Remember, sir, his acceptance or his
+refusal is to be his own act, not to be intimated in any way to me, nor
+to come through me.'"
+
+"This is unnecessary harshness," said Lendrick, with a quivering lip;
+"there was no need to tell me how estranged we are from each other."
+
+"I fancied I could detect a struggle with himself in all his sternness;
+and his hand trembled when I took it to say 'good-bye.' I was going to
+ask if you might not be permitted to see him, even for a brief moment;
+but I was afraid, lest in refusing he might make a reconciliation still
+more remote, and so I merely said, 'May I leave you those miniatures I
+showed you a few days ago? 'His answer was, 'You may leave them, sir.'
+
+"As I came down to the hall, I met Lady Lendrick. She was in evening
+dress, going out, but had evidently waited to Catch me as I passed.
+
+"'You find the Chief much better, don't you?' asked she. I bowed and
+assented.. 'And he will be better still,' added she, 'when all these
+anxieties are over.' She saw that I did not or would not apprehend her
+meaning, and added, 'I mean about this resignation, which, of course,
+you will advise him to. The Government are really behaving so very well,
+so liberal, and withal so delicate. If they had been our own people, I
+doubt if they would have shown anything like the same generosity.'
+
+"'I have heard of nothing but the offer to Dr. Lendrick,' said I.
+
+"She seemed confused, and moved on; and then recovering herself, said,
+'And a most handsome offer it is. I hope he thinks so.'
+
+"With this we parted, and I believe now I have told you almost word for
+word everything that occurred concerning you."
+
+"And what do _you_ say to all this, Beattie?" asked Lendrick, in a
+half-sad tone.
+
+"I say that if in your place, Tom, I would accept. It may be that the
+Chief Baron will interpose and say, Don't go; or it may be that your
+readiness to work for your bread should conciliate him; he has long had
+the impression that you are indisposed to exertion, and too fond of your
+own ease."
+
+"I know it,--I know it; Lady Lendrick has intimated as much to me."
+
+"At all events, you can make no mistake in entertaining the project; and
+certainly the offer is not to be despised."
+
+"It is of him, and of him alone, I am thinking, Beattie. If he would let
+me see him, admit me once more on my old terms of affection, I would go
+anywhere, do anything that he counselled. Try, my dear friend, to bring
+this about; do your best for me, and remember I will subscribe to any
+terms, submit to anything, if he will only be reconciled to me."
+
+"It will be hard if we cannot manage this somehow," said Beattie; "but
+now let us to bed. It is past two o'clock. Good-night, Tom; sleep well,
+and don't dream of the Cape or the Caffres."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOR
+
+That ancient and incongruous pile which goes by the name of the Castle
+in Dublin, and to which Irishmen very generally look as the well from
+which all honors and places flow, is not remarkable for either the
+splendor or space it affords to the inmates beneath its roof. Upheld
+by a great prestige perhaps, as in the case of certain distinguished
+people, who affect a humble exterior and very simple belongings, it may
+deem that its own transcendent importance has no need of accessories.
+Certainly the ugliness of its outside is in noway unbalanced by the
+meanness within; and even the very highest of those who claim its
+hospitality are lodged in no-princely fashion.
+
+In a corner of the old red brick quadrangle, to the right of the state
+entrance, in a small room whose two narrow windows looked into a lane,
+sat a very well-dressed young-gentleman at a writing-table. Short, and
+disposed to roundness in face as well as figure, Mr. Cholmondely Balfour
+scarcely responded in appearance to his imposing name. Nature had not
+been as bountiful, perhaps, as Fortune; for while he was rich,
+well born, and considerably gifted in abilities, his features were
+unmistakably common and vulgar, and all the aids of dress could not
+atone for the meanness in his general look. Had he simply accepted his
+image as a thing to be quietly borne and submitted to, the case might
+not have been so very bad; but he took it as something to be corrected,
+changed, and ameliorated, and the result was a perpetual struggle
+to make the most ordinary traits and commonplace features appear the
+impress of one on whom Nature had written gentleman. It would have been
+no easy task to have imposed on him in a question of his duty. He was
+the private secretary of the Viceroy, who was his maternal uncle. It
+would have been a tough task to have misled or deceived him in any
+matter open to his intelligence to examine; but upon this theme there
+was not the inventor of a hair-wash, a skin-paste, a whisker-dye, or a
+pearl-powder that might not have led him captive. A bishop might have
+found difficulty in getting audience of him,--a barber might have
+entered unannounced; and while the lieutenant of a county sat waiting in
+the antechamber, the tailor, with a new waistcoat pattern, walked
+boldly into the august presence. Entering life by that _petite porte_
+of politics, an Irish office, he had conceived a very humble estimate
+of the people amongst whom he was placed. Regarding his extradition from
+Whitehall and its precincts as a sort of probationary banishment, he
+felt, however, its necessity; and as naval men are accredited with two
+years of service for every one year on the coast of Africa, Mr. Balfour
+was aware that a grateful Government could equally recognize the
+devotion of him who gave some of the years of his youth to the Fernando
+Po of statecraft.
+
+This impression, being rarely personal in its consequences, was not of
+much moment; but it was conjoined with a more serious error, which was
+to imagine that all rule and governance in Ireland should be carried
+on with a Machiavellian subtlety. The people, he had heard, were
+quick-witted; he must therefore out-manoeuvre them. Jobbery had been,
+he was told, the ruin of Ireland; he would show its inefficiency by
+the superior skill with which he could wield its weapon. To be sure
+his office was a very minor one, its influence very restricted, but Mr.
+Balfour was ambitious; he was a Viceroy's nephew; he had sat for months
+in the House, from which he had been turned out on a petition. He had
+therefore social advantages to build on, abilities to display, and
+wrongs to avenge; and as a man too late for the train speculates during
+the day how far on his road he might have been by this time or by that,
+so did Mr. Balfour continually keep reminding himself how, but for that
+confounded petition, he might now have been a Treasury this or a
+Board of Trade that,--a corporal, in fact, in that great army whose
+commissioned officers are amongst the highest in Europe.
+
+Let us now present him to our reader, as he lay back in his chair, and
+by a hand-bell summoned his messenger.
+
+"I say, Watkins, when Clancey calls about those trousers show him
+in, and send some one over to the packet-office about the
+phosphorus blacking; you know we are on the last jar of it. If the
+Solicitor-General should come--"
+
+"He is here, sir; he has been waiting these twenty minutes. I told him
+you were with his Excellency."
+
+"So I was,--so I always am," said he, throwing a half-smoked cigar into
+the fire. "Admit him."
+
+A pale, care-worn, anxious-looking man, whose face was not without
+traces of annoyance at the length of time he had been kept waiting, now
+entered and sat down.
+
+"Just where we were yesterday, Pemberton," said Balfour, as he rose and
+stood with his back to the fire, the tails of his gorgeous dressing-gown
+hanging over his arms. "Intractable as he ever was; he won't die, and he
+won't resign."
+
+"His friends say he is perfectly willing to resign if you agree to his
+terms."
+
+"That may be possible; the question is, What are his terms? Have you a
+precedent of a Chief Baron being raised to the peerage?"
+
+"It's not, as I understand, the peerage he insists on; he inclines to a
+moneyed arrangement."
+
+"We are too poor, Pemberton,--we are too poor. There's a deep gap in our
+customs this quarter. It's reduction we must think of, not outlay."
+
+"If the changes _are_ to be made," said the other, with a tone of
+impatience, "I certainly ought to be told at once, or I shall have no
+time left for my canvass."
+
+"An Irish borough, Pemberton,--an Irish borough requires so little,"
+said Balfour, with a compassionate smile.
+
+"Such is not the opinion over here, sir," said Pemberton, stiffly; "and
+I might even suggest some caution in saying it."
+
+"Caution is the badge of all our tribe," said Balfour, with a burlesque
+gravity. "By the way, Pemberton, his Excellency is greatly disappointed
+at the issue of these Cork trials; why did n't you hang these fellows?"
+
+"Juries can no more be coerced here than in England; they brought them
+in not guilty."
+
+"We know all that, and we ask you why? There certainly was little room
+for doubt in the evidence."
+
+"When you have lived longer in Ireland, Mr. Balfour, you will learn
+that there are other considerations in a trial than the testimony of the
+witnesses."
+
+"That's exactly what I said to his Excellency; and I remarked, 'If
+Pemberton comes into the House, he must prepare for a sharp attack about
+these trials.'"
+
+"And it is exactly to ascertain if I am to enter Parliament that I have
+come here to-day," said the other, angrily.
+
+"Bring me the grateful tidings that the Lord Chief Baron has joined his
+illustrious predecessors in that distinguished court, I 'll answer you
+in five minutes."
+
+"Beattie declares he is better this morning. He says that he has in all
+probability years of life before him."
+
+"There 's nothing so hard to kill as a judge, except it be an
+archbishop. I believe a sedentary life does it; they say if a fellow
+will sit still and never move he may live to any age."
+
+Pemberton took an impatient turn up and down the room, and then wheeling
+about directly in front of Balfour, said, "If his Excellency knew,
+perhaps, that I do not want the House of Commons--"
+
+"Not want the House,--not wish to be in Parliament?"
+
+"Certainly not. If I enter the House, it is as a law-officer of the
+Crown; personally it is no object to me."
+
+"I'll not tell him that, Pem. I'll keep your secret safe, for I tell you
+frankly it would ruin you to reveal it."
+
+"It's no secret, sir; you may proclaim it,--you may publish it in the
+'Gazette,' But really we are wasting much valuable time here. It is now
+two o'clock, and I must go down to Court. I have only to say that if no
+arrangement be come to before this time to-morrow--" He stopped short.
+Another word might have committed him, but he pulled up in time.
+
+"Well, what then?" asked Balfour, with a half smile.
+
+"I have heard you pride yourself, Mr. Balfour," said the other,
+recovering, "on your skill in nice negotiation; why not try what you
+could do with the Chief Baron?"
+
+"Are there women in the family?" said Balfour, caressing his moustache.
+
+"No; only his wife."
+
+"I 've seen her," said he, contemptuously.
+
+"He quarrelled with his only son, and has not spoken to him, I believe,
+for nigh thirty years, and the poor fellow is struggling on as a country
+doctor somewhere in the west."
+
+"What if we were to propose to do something for him? Men are often not
+averse to see those assisted whom their own pride refuses to help."
+
+"I scarcely suspect you 'll acquire his gratitude that way."
+
+"We don't want his gratitude, we want his place. I declare I think the
+idea a good one. There's a thing now at the Cape, an inspectorship of
+something,--Hottentots or hospitals, I forget which. His Excellency
+asked to have the gift of it; what if we were to appoint this man?"
+
+"Make the crier of his Court a Commissioner in Chancery, and Baron
+Lendrick will be more obliged to you," said Pem-berton, with a sneer.
+"He is about the least forgiving man I ever knew or heard of."
+
+"Where is this son of his to be found?"
+
+"I saw him yesterday walking with Dr. Beattie. I have no doubt Beattie
+knows his address. But let me warn you once more against the inutility
+of the step you would take. I doubt if the old Judge would as much as
+thank you."
+
+Balfour turned round to the glass and smiled sweetly at himself, as
+though to say that he had heard of some one who knew how to make these
+negotiations successful,--a fellow of infinite readiness, a clever
+fellow, but withal one whose good looks and distinguished air left even
+his talents in the background.
+
+"I think I 'll call and see the Chief Baron myself," said he. "His
+Excellency sends twice a day to inquire, and I 'll take the opportunity
+to make him a visit,--that is, if he will receive me."
+
+"It is doubtful. At all events, let me give you one hint for your
+guidance. Neither let drop Mr. Attorney's name nor mine in your
+conversation; avoid the mention of any one whose career might be
+influenced by the Baron's retirement; and talk of him less as a human
+being than as an institution that is destined to endure as long as the
+British constitution."
+
+"I wish it was a woman--if it was only a woman I had to deal with, the
+whole affair might be deemed settled."
+
+"If you should be able to do anything before the mail goes out to-night,
+perhaps you will inform me," said Pem-berton, as he bowed and left
+the room. "And these are the men they send over here to administer
+the country!" muttered he, as he descended the stairs,--"such are the
+intelligences that are to rule Ireland! Was it Voltaire who said
+there was nothing so inscrutable in all the ways of Providence as the
+miserable smallness of those creatures to whom the destiny of nations
+was committed?"
+
+Ruminating over this, he hastened on to a _nisi prius_ case.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. A PUZZLING COMMISSION
+
+As Colonel Cave re-entered his quarters after morning parade in the
+Royal Barracks of Dublin, he found the following letter, which the post
+had just delivered. It was headed "Strictly Private," with three dashes
+under the words.
+
+"Holt-Trafford.
+
+"My dear Colonel Cave,--Sir Hugh is confined to bed with a severe attack
+of gout,--the doctors call it flying gout. He suffers greatly, and his
+nerves are in a state of irritation that makes all attempt at writing
+impossible. This will be my apology for obtruding upon you, though,
+perhaps, the cause in which I write might serve for excuse. We are in
+the deepest anxiety about Lionel. You are already aware how heavily his
+extravagance has cost us. His play-debts amounted to above ten thousand
+pounds, and all the cleverness of Mr. Joel has not been able to
+compromise with the tradespeople for less than as much more; nor are
+we yet done with demands from various quarters. It is not, however, of
+these that I desire to speak. Your kind offer to take him into your
+own regiment, and exercise the watchful supervision of a parent, has
+relieved us of much anxiety, and his own sincere affection for you is
+the strongest assurance we can have that the step has been a wise one.
+Our present uneasiness has however a deeper source than mere pecuniary
+embarrassment. The boy--he is very little more than a boy in years--has
+fallen in love, and gravely writes to his father for consent that he may
+marry. I assure you the shock brought back all Sir Hugh's most severe
+symptoms; and his left eye was attacked with an inflammation such as Dr.
+Gole says he never saw equalled. So far as the incoherency of his letter
+will permit us to guess, the girl is a person in a very humble condition
+of life, the daughter of a country doctor, of course without family or
+fortune. That he made her acquaintance by an accident, as he informs
+us, is also a reason to suppose that they are not people in society. The
+name, as well as I can decipher it, is Lendrich or Hendrich,--neither
+very distinguished!
+
+"Now, my dear Colonel, even to a second son, such an alliance would be
+perfectly intolerable,--totally at variance with all his father's plans
+for him, and inconsistent with the station he should occupy. But there
+are other considerations,--too sad ones, too melancholy indeed to
+be spoken of, except where the best interests of a family are to be
+regarded, which press upon us here. The last accounts of George from
+Madeira leave us scarcely a hope. The climate, from which so much was
+expected, has done nothing. The season has been unhappily most severe,
+and the doctors agree in declaring that the malady has not yielded
+in any respect. You will see, therefore, what a change any day may
+accomplish in Lionel's prospects, and how doubly important it is that
+he should contract no ties inconsistent with a station of no mean
+importance. Not that these considerations would weigh with Lionel in the
+least: he was always headstrong, rash, and self-willed; and if he were,
+or fancied that he were, bound in honor to do a thing, I know well that
+all persuasions would be unavailing to prevent him. I cannot believe,
+however, that matters can have gone so far here. This acquaintanceship
+must be of the very shortest; and however designing and crafty such
+people may be, there will surely be some means of showing them
+that their designs are impracticable, and of a nature only to bring
+disappointment and disgrace upon themselves. That Sir Hugh would give
+his consent is totally out of the question,--a thing not to be thought
+of for a moment; indeed I may tell you in confidence that his first
+thought on reading L.'s letter was to carry out a project to which
+George had already consented, and by which the entail should be cut off,
+and our third son, Harry, in that case would inherit. This will show you
+to what extent his indignation would carry him.
+
+"Now what is to be done? for, really, it is but time lost in deploring
+when prompt action alone can save us. Do you know, or do you know any
+one who does know, these Hendrichs or Lendrichs--who are they, what are
+they? Are they people to whom I could write myself, or are they in that
+rank in life which would enable us to make some sort of compromise?
+Again, could you in anyway obtain L.'s confidence, and make him open his
+heart to you _first?_ This is the more essential, because the moment he
+hears of anything like coercion or pressure, his whole spirit will rise
+in resistance, and he will be totally unmanageable. You have perhaps
+more influence over him than any one else, and even your influence he
+would resent if he suspected any dominance.
+
+"I am madly impatient to hear what you will suggest. Will it be to see
+these people, to reason with them, to explain to them the fruitlessness
+of what they are doing? Will it be to talk to the girl herself?
+
+"My first thought was to send for Lionel, as his father was so ill, but
+on consideration I felt that a meeting between them might be the thing
+of all others to be avoided. Indeed, in Sir Hugh's present temper, I
+dare not think of the consequences.
+
+"Might it be advisable to get Lionel attached to some foreign station?
+If so, I am sure I could manage it--only, would he go? there 's the
+question,--would he go? I am writing in such distress of mind, and so
+hurriedly too, that I really do not know what I have set down and what I
+have omitted. I trust, however, there is enough of this sad case before
+you to enable you to counsel me, or, what is much better, act for me. I
+wish I could send you L.'s letter, but Sir Hugh has put it away, and I
+cannot lay my hand on it. Its purport, however, was to obtain authority
+from us to approach this girl's relations as a suitor, and to show that
+his intentions were known to and concurred in by his family. The only
+gleam of hope in the epistle was his saying, 'I have not the slightest
+reason to believe she would accept me, but the approval of my friends
+will certainly give me the best chance.'
+
+"Now, my dear Colonel, compassionate my anxiety, and write to me at
+once--something--anything. Write such a letter as Sir Hugh may see; and
+if you have anything secret or confidential, enclose it as a separate
+slip. Was it not unfortunate that we refused that Indian appointment for
+him? All this misery might have been averted. You may imagine how Sir
+Hugh feels this conduct the more bitterly, coming, as I may say, on the
+back of all his late indiscretions.
+
+"Remember, finally, happen what may, this project must not go on. It is
+a question of the boy's whole future and life. To defy his father is to
+disinherit himself; and it is not impossible that this might be the most
+effectual argument you could employ with these people who now seek to
+entangle him.
+
+"I have certainly no reason to love Ireland. It was there that my cousin
+Cornwallis married that dreadful creature who is now suing him for
+cruelty, and exposing the family throughout England.
+
+"Sir Hugh gave directions last week about lodging the purchase-money
+for his company, but he wrote a few lines to Cox's last night--to what
+purport I cannot say--not impossibly to countermand it. What affliction
+all this is!"
+
+As Colonel Cave read over this letter for a second time, he was
+not without misgivings about the even small share to which he had
+contributed in this difficulty. It was evidently during the short
+leave he had granted that this acquaintanceship had been formed; and
+Fossbrooke's companionship was the very last thing in the world to deter
+a young and ardent fellow from anything high-flown or romantic. "I ought
+never to have thrown them together," muttered he, as he walked his room
+in doubt and deliberation.
+
+He rang his bell and sent for the adjutant. "Where 's Trafford?" asked
+he.
+
+"You gave him three days' leave yesterday, sir. He's gone down to that
+fishing-village where he went before."
+
+"Confound the place! Send for him at once--telegraph. No--let us
+see--his leave is up to-morrow?"
+
+"The next day at ten he was to report."
+
+"His father is ill,--an attack of gout," muttered the Colonel, to give
+some color to his agitated manner. "But it is better, perhaps, not to
+alarm him. The seizure seems passing off."
+
+"He said something about asking for a longer term; he wants a fortnight,
+I think. The season is just beginning now."
+
+"He shall not have it, sir. Take good care to warn him not to apply. It
+will breed discontent in the regiment to see a young fellow who has not
+been a year with us obtain a leave every ten or fifteen days."
+
+"If it were any other than Trafford, there would be plenty of grumbling.
+But he is such a favorite!"
+
+"I don't know that a worse accident could befall any man. Many a fine
+fellow has been taught selfishness by the over-estimate others have
+formed of him. See that you keep him to his duty, and that he is to look
+for no favoritism."
+
+The Colonel did not well know why he said this, nor did he stop to think
+what might come of it. It smacked, to his mind, however, of something
+prompt, active, and energetic.
+
+His next move was to write a short note to Lady Trafford, acknowledging
+hers, and saying that, Lionel being absent,--he did not add
+where,--nothing could be done till he should see him. "To-morrow--next
+day at farthest--I will report progress. I cannot believe the case to be
+so serious as you suppose; at all events, count upon me."
+
+"Stay!" cried he to the adjutant, who stood in the window awaiting
+further instructions; "on second thoughts, do telegraph. Say, 'Return at
+once.' This will prepare him for something."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. A BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE
+
+On the day after the picnic Sir Brook went by invitation to breakfast
+with the vicar.
+
+"When a man asks you to dinner," said Fossbrooke, "he generally wants
+you to talk; when he asks you to breakfast, he wants to talk to you."
+
+Whatever be the truth of this adage generally, it certainly-had its
+application in the present case. The vicar wanted very much to talk to
+Sir Brook.
+
+As they sat, therefore, over their coffee and devilled kidneys, chatting
+over the late excursion and hinting at another, the vicar suddenly said:
+"By the way, I want you to tell me something of the young fellow who
+was one of us yesterday. Tobin, our doctor here, who is a perfect
+commission-agent for scandal, says he is the greatest scamp going; that
+about eight or ten months ago the 'Times' was full of his exploits in
+bankruptcy; that his liabilities were tens of thousands,--assets
+_nil_. In a word, that, notwithstanding his frank, honest look, and his
+unaffected manner, he is the most accomplished scapegrace of the age."
+
+"And how much of this do you believe?" asked Sir Brook, as he helped
+himself to coffee.
+
+"That is not so easy to reply to; but I tell you, if you ask me, that I
+'d rather not believe one word of it."
+
+"Nor need you. His Colonel told me something about the young fellow's
+difficulties; he himself related the rest. He went most recklessly into
+debt; betted largely on races, and lost; lent freely, and lost; raised
+at ruinous interest, and renewed at still more ruinous; but his father
+has paid every shilling of it out of that fortune which one day was to
+have come to him, so that Lionel's thirty thousand pounds is now about
+eight thousand. I have put the whole story into the fewest possible
+words, but that's the substance of it."
+
+"And has it cured him of extravagance?"
+
+"Of course it has not. How should it? _You_ have lived some more years
+in the world than he has, and I a good many more than _you_, and
+will you tell me that time has cured either of us of any of our old
+shortcomings? _Non sum quails eram_ means, I can't be as wild as I used
+to be."
+
+"No, no; I won't agree to that. I protest most strongly against the
+doctrine. Many men are wiser through experience, and, consequently,
+better."
+
+"I sincerely believe I knew the world better at four-and-twenty than I
+know it now. The reason why we are less often deceived in after than
+in early life is not that we are more crafty or more keen-eyed. It is
+simply because we risk less. Let us hazard as much at sixty as we once
+did at six-and-twenty, and we 'll lose as heavily."
+
+The vicar paused a few moments over the other's words, and then said,
+"To come back to this young man, I half suspect he has formed an
+attachment to Lucy, and that he is doing his utmost to succeed in her
+favor."
+
+"And is there anything wrong in that, doctor?"
+
+"Not positively wrong; but there is what may lead to a great deal
+of unhappiness. Who is to say how Trafford's family would like the
+connection? Who is to answer for Lendrick's approval of Trafford?"
+
+"You induce me to make a confidence I have no right to impart; but I
+rely so implicitly on your discretion. I will tell you what was
+intrusted to me as a secret: Trafford has already written to his father
+to ask his consent."
+
+"Without speaking to Lendrick? without even being sure of Lucy's?"
+
+"Yes, without knowing anything of either; but on my advice he has first
+asked his father's permission to pay his addresses to the young lady.
+His position with his family is peculiar; he is a younger son, but
+not exactly as free as most younger sons feel to act for themselves. I
+cannot now explain this more fully, but it is enough if you understand
+that he is entirely dependent on his father. When I came to know this,
+and when I saw that he was becoming desperately in love, I insisted on
+this appeal to his friends before he either entangled Lucy in a promise,
+or even made any declaration himself. He showed me the letter before
+he posted it. It was all I could wish. It is not a very easy task for
+a young fellow to tell his father he 's in love; but he, in the very
+frankness of his nature, acquitted himself well and manfully."
+
+"And what answer has he received?"
+
+"None as yet. Two posts have passed. He might have heard through
+either of them; but no letter has come, and he is feverishly uneasy and
+anxious."
+
+The vicar was silent, but a grave motion of his head implied doubt and
+fear.
+
+"Yes," said Sir Brook, answering the gesture,--"yes, I agree with you.
+The Traffords are great folk in their own country. Trafford was a strong
+place in Saxon times. They have pride enough for all this blood, and
+wealth enough for both pride and blood."
+
+"They 'd find their match in Lendrick, quiet and simple as he seems,"
+said the vicar.
+
+"Which makes the matter worse. Who is to give way? Who is to _c�der le
+pas?_"
+
+"I am not so sure I should have advised that letter. I am inclined to
+think I would have counselled more time, more consideration. Fathers and
+mothers are prudently averse to these loves at first sight, and they are
+merciless in dealing with what they deem a mere passing sentiment."
+
+"Better that than suffer him to engage the girl's affections, and then
+learn that he must either desert her or marry her against the feeling
+of his family. Let us have a stroll in the garden. I have made you one
+confidence; I will now make you another."
+
+They lit their cigars, and strolled out into a long alley fenced on one
+side by a tall dense hedge of laurels, and flanked on the other by a low
+wall, over which the view took in the wide reach of the river and the
+distant mountains of Scariff and Meelick.
+
+"Was not that where we picnicked yesterday?" asked Sir Brook, pointing
+to an island in the distance.
+
+"No; you cannot see Holy Island from this."
+
+Sir Brook smoked on for some minutes without a word; at last, with a
+sort of abruptness, he said, "She was so like her, not only in face and
+figure, but her manner; the very tone of her voice was like; and then
+that half-caressing, half-timid way she has in conversation, and, more
+than all, the sly quietness with which she caps you when you fancy that
+the smart success is all your own."
+
+"Of whom are you speaking?"
+
+"Of another Lucy," said Sir Brook, with a deep melancholy. "Heaven
+grant that the resemblance follow them not in their lives as in their
+features! It was that likeness, however, which first attracted me
+towards Miss Lendrick. The first moment I saw her it overcame me; as I
+grew to know her better, it almost confused me, and made me jumble in
+your hearing things of long ago with the present. Time and space were
+both forgotten, and I found my mind straying away to scenes in the
+Himalaya with those I shall never see more. It was thus that, one day
+carried away by this delusion, I chanced to call her Lucy, and she
+laughingly begged me not to retract it, but so to call her always." For
+some minutes he was silent, and then resumed: "I don't know if you ever
+heard of a Colonel Frank Dillon, who served on Napier's staff in Scinde.
+Fiery Frank was his nickname among his comrades, but it only applied
+to him on the field of battle, and with an enemy in front. Then he was
+indeed fiery,--the excitement rose to almost madness, and led him to
+acts of almost incredible daring. At Meanee he was nearly cut to pieces,
+and as he lay wounded, and to all appearance dying, he received a
+lance-wound through the chest that the surgeon declared must prove
+fatal. He lived, however, for eight months after,--he lived long enough
+to reach the Himalayas, where his daughter, an only child, joined him
+from England. On her way out she became acquainted with a young officer,
+who was coming out as aide-de-camp to the Governor-General. They were
+constantly thrown together on the journey, and his attentions to her
+soon showed the sentiments he had conceived for her. In fact, very soon
+after Lucy had joined her father, Captain Sewell appeared 'in the Hills'
+to make a formal demand of her in marriage.
+
+"I was there at the time, and I remember well poor Dillon's expression
+of disappointment after the first meeting with him. His daughter's
+enthusiastic description of his looks, his manner, his abilities, his
+qualities generally, had perhaps prepared him for too much. Indeed,
+Lucy's own intense admiration for the soldierlike character of her
+father's features assisted the mistake; for, as Dillon said, 'There must
+be a dash of the _sabreur_ in the fellow that will win Lucy.' I came
+into Dillon's room immediately after the first interview. The instant
+I caught his eye I read what was going on in his brain. 'Sit down here,
+Brook,' cried he, 'sit in my chair here;' and he arose painfully as he
+spoke. 'I'll show you the man.' With this he hobbled over to a table
+where his cap lay, and, placing it rakishly on one side of his head, he
+stuck his eyeglass in one eye, and, with a hand in his trousers-pocket,
+lounged forward towards where I sat, saying, 'How d' ye do, Colonel?
+Wound doing better, I hope. The breezy climate up here soon set you up.'
+'Familiar enough this, sir,' cried Dillon, in his own stern voice; 'but
+without time to breathe, as it were,--before almost I had exchanged
+a greeting with him,--he entered upon the object of his journey. I
+scarcely heard a word he said; I knew its purport,--I could mark the
+theme,--but no more. It was not the fellow himself that filled my mind;
+my whole thoughts were upon my daughter, and I went on repeating to
+myself, "Good heavens! is this Lucy's choice? Am I in a trance? Is
+it this contemptible cur (for he was a cur, sir) that has won the
+affections of my darling, high-hearted, generous girl? Is the romantic
+spirit that I have so loved to see in her to bear no better fruit than
+this? Does the fellow realize to her mind the hero that fills men's
+thoughts?" I was so overcome, so excited, so confused, Brook, that I
+begged him to leave me for a while, that one of my attacks of pain was
+coming on, and that I should not be able to converse farther He said
+something about trying one of his cheroots,--some impertinence or other,
+I forget what; but he left me, and I, who never knew a touch of girlish
+weakness in my life, who when a child had no mood of softness in my
+nature,--I felt the tears trickling along my cheeks, and my eyes dimmed
+with them.' My poor friend," continued Fossbrooke, "could not go on; his
+emotions mastered him, and he sat with his head buried between his hands
+and in silence. At last he said, 'She 'll not give him up, Brook; I have
+spoken to her,--she actually loves him. Good heavens!' he cried, 'how
+little do we know about our children's hearts! how far astray are we as
+to the natures that have grown up beside us, imbibing, as we thought,
+our hopes, our wishes, and our prejudices! We awake some day to discover
+that some other influence has crept in to undo our teachings, and
+that the fidelity on which we would have staked our lives has changed
+allegiance.'
+
+"He talked to me long in this strain, and I saw that the effects of this
+blow to all his hopes had made themselves deeply felt on his chance of
+recovery. It only needed a great shock to depress him to make his case
+hopeless. Within two months after his daughter's arrival he was no more.
+
+"I became Lucy's guardian. Poor Dillon gave me the entire control over
+her future fortune, and left me to occupy towards her the place he had
+himself held. I believe that next to her father I held the best place
+in her affections,--of such affections, I mean, as are accorded to
+a parent. I was her godfather, and from her earliest infancy she had
+learned to love me. The reserve--it was positive coldness--with which
+Dillon had always treated Sewell had caused a certain distance, for the
+first time in their lives, between the father and daughter. She thought,
+naturally enough, that her father was unjust; that, unaccustomed to the
+new tone of manners which had grown up amongst young men,--their greater
+ease, their less rigid observance of ceremonial, their more liberal
+self-indulgence,--he was unfairly severe upon her lover. She was
+annoyed, too, that Sewells attempts to conciliate the old man should
+have turned out such complete failures. But none of these prejudices
+extended to me, and she counted much on the good understanding that she
+expected to find grow up between us.
+
+"If I could have prevented the marriage, I would. I learned many things
+of the man that I disliked. There is no worse sign of a man than to be
+at the same time a man of pleasure and friendless. These he was,--he was
+foremost in every plan of amusement and dissipation, and yet none liked
+him. Vain fellows get quizzed for their vanity, and selfish men laughed
+at for their selfishness, and close men for their avarice; but there
+is a combination of vanity, egotism, small craftiness, and
+self-preservation in certain fellows that is totally repugnant to all
+companionship. Their lives are a series of petty successes, not owing
+to any superior ability or greater boldness of daring, but to a studious
+outlook for small opportunities. They are ever alive to know the 'right
+man,' to be invited to the 'right house,' to say the 'right thing.'
+Never linked with whatever is in disgrace or misfortune, they are always
+found backing the winning horse, if not riding him.
+
+"Such men as these, so long as the world goes well with them, and events
+turn out fortunately, are regarded simply as sharp, shrewd fellows,
+with a keen eye to their own interests. When, however, the weight of
+any misfortune comes, when the time arrives that they have to bear up
+against the hard pressure of life, these fellows come forth in their
+true colors, swindlers and cheats.
+
+"Such was he. Finding that I was determined to settle the small fortune
+her father had left her inalienably on herself, he defeated me by a
+private marriage. He then launched out into a life of extravagance to
+which their means bore no proportion. I was a rich man in those days,
+and knew nothing better to do with my money than assist the daughter of
+my oldest friend. The gallant Captain did not balk my good intentions.
+He first accepted, he then borrowed, and last of all he forged my name.
+I paid the bills and saved him, not for his sake, I need not tell you,
+but for hers, who threw herself at my feet, and implored me not to see
+them ruined. Even this act of hers he turned to profit. He wrote to
+me to say that he knew his wife had been to my house, that he had long
+nurtured suspicions against me,--I that was many years older than her
+own father,--that for the future he desired all acquaintance should
+cease between us, and that I should not again cross his threshold.
+
+"By what persuasions or by what menaces he led his wife to the step, I
+do not know; but she passed me when we met without a recognition. This
+was the hardest blow of all. I tried to write her a letter; but after a
+score of attempts I gave it up, and left the place.
+
+"I never saw her for eight years. I wish I had not seen her then. I
+am an old, hardened man of the world, one whom life has taught all its
+lessons to in the sternest fashion. I have been so baffled and beaten,
+and thrown back by all my attempts to think well of the world, that
+nothing short of a dogged resolution not to desert my colors has rescued
+me from a cold misanthropy; and yet, till I saw, I did not believe
+there was a new pang of misery my heart had not tasted. What? it is
+incredible,--surely that is not she who once was Lucy Dillon,--that
+bold-faced woman with lustrous eyes and rouged cheeks,--brilliant,
+indeed, and beautiful, but not the beauty that is allied to the
+thought of virtue,--whose every look is a wile, whose every action is
+entanglement. She was leaning on a great man's arm, and in the smile she
+gave him told me how she knew to purchase such distinctions. He noticed
+me, and shook my hand as I passed. I heard him tell her who I was; and
+I heard her say that I had been a hanger-on, a sort of dependant of her
+father's, but she never liked me! I tried to laugh, but the pain was too
+deep. I came away, and saw her no more."
+
+He ceased speaking, and for some time they walked along side by side
+without a word. At last he broke out: "Don't believe the people who say
+that men are taught by anything they experience in life. Outwardly they
+may affect it. They may assume this or that manner. The heart cannot
+play the hypocrite, and no frequency of disaster diminishes the smart.
+The wondrous resemblance Miss Lendrick bears to Lucy Dillon renews to my
+memory the bright days of her early beauty, when her poor father would
+call her to sit down at his feet and read to him, that he might gaze
+at will on her, weaving whole histories of future happiness and joy for
+her. 'Is it not like sunshine in the room to see her, Brook?' would he
+whisper to me. 'I only heard her voice as she passed under my window
+this morning, and I forgot some dark thought that was troubling me.'
+And there was no exaggeration in this. The sweet music of her tones
+"vibrated so softly on the ear, they soothed the sense, just as we feel
+soothed by the gentle ripple of a stream.
+
+"All these times come back to me since I have been here, and I cannot
+tell you how the very sorrow that is associated with them has its power
+over me. Every one knows with what attachment the heart will cling to
+some little spot in a far-away land that reminds one of a loved place at
+home,--how we delight to bring back old memories, and how we even like
+to name old names, to cheat ourselves back into the past. So it is that
+I feel when I see this girl. The other Lucy was once as my daughter; so,
+too, do I regard her, and with this comes that dreadful sorrow I have
+told you of, giving my interest in her an intensity unspeakable. When
+I saw Trafford's attention to her, the only thing I thought of was
+how unlike he was to him who won the other Lucy. His frank, unaffected
+bearing, his fine, manly trustfulness, the very opposite to the other's
+qualities, made me his friend at once. When I say friend, I mean
+well-wisher, for my friendship now bears no other fruit. Time was when
+it was otherwise."
+
+"What is it, William?" cried the vicar, as his servant came hurriedly
+forward.
+
+"There 's a gentleman in the drawing-room, sir, wants to see Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke."
+
+"Have I your leave?" said the old man, bowing low. "I 'll join you here
+immediately."
+
+Within a few moments he was back again. "It was Trafford. He has just
+got a telegram to call him to his regiment. He suspects something has
+gone wrong; and seeing his agitation, I offered to go back with him. We
+start within an hour."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN
+
+The vicar having some business to transact in Limerick, agreed to
+go that far with Sir Brook and Trafford, and accompanied them to the
+railroad to see them off.
+
+A down train from Dublin arrived as they were waiting, and a passenger,
+descending, hastily hurried after the vicar, and seized his hand. The
+vicar, in evident delight, forgot his other friends for a moment,
+and became deeply interested in the new-comer. "We must say good-bye,
+doctor," said Fossbrooke; "here comes our train."
+
+"A thousand pardons, my dear Sir Brook. The unlooked-for arrival of my
+friend here--but I believe you don't know him. Lendrick, come here,
+I want to present you to Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Captain Trafford, Dr.
+Lendrick."
+
+"I hope these gentlemen are not departing," said Lendrick, with the
+constraint of a bashful man.
+
+"It is our misfortune to do so," said Sir Brook; "but I have passed too
+many happy hours in this neighborhood not to come back to it as soon as
+I can."
+
+"I hope we shall see you. I hope I may have an opportunity of thanking
+you, Sir Brook."
+
+"Dublin! Dublin! Dublin! get in, gentlemen: first class, this way, sir,"
+screamed a guard, amidst a thundering rumble, a scream, and a hiss. All
+other words were drowned, and with a cordial shake-hands the new friends
+parted.
+
+"Is the younger man his son?" asked Lendrick; "I did not catch the
+name?"
+
+"No; he's Trafford, a son of Sir Hugh Trafford,--a Lincolnshire man,
+isn't he?"
+
+"I don't know. It was of the other I was thinking. I felt it so strange
+to see a man of whom when a boy I used to hear so much. I have an old
+print somewhere of two over-dressed 'Bloods,' as they were called in
+those days, with immense whiskers, styled 'Fossy and Fussy,' meaning Sir
+Brook and the Baron Geramb, a German friend and follower of the Prince."
+
+"I suspect a good deal changed since that day, in person as well as
+purse," said the vicar, sadly.
+
+"Indeed! I heard of his having inherited some immense fortune."
+
+"So he did, and squandered every shilling of it."
+
+"And the chicks are well, you tell me?" said Lendrick, whose voice
+softened as he talked of home and his children.
+
+"Could n't be better. We had a little picnic on Holy Island yesterday,
+and only wanted yourself to have been perfectly happy. Lucy was for
+refusing at first."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Some notion she had that you would n't like it. Some idea about not
+doing in your absence anything that was not usual when you are here."
+
+"She is such a true girl, so loyal," said Lendrick, proudly.
+
+"Well, I take the treason on my shoulders. I made her come. It was a
+delightful day, and we drank your health in as good a glass of Madeira
+as ever ripened in the sun. Now for your own news?"
+
+"First let us get on the road. I am impatient to be back at home again.
+Have you your car here?"
+
+"All is ready, and waiting for you at the gate."
+
+As they drove briskly along, Lendrick gave the vicar a detailed account
+of his visit to Dublin. Passing over the first days, of which the reader
+already has heard something, we take up the story from the day on which
+Lendrick learned that his father would see him.
+
+"My mind was so full of myself, doctor," said he, "of all the
+consequences which had followed from my father's anger with me, that I
+had no thought of anything else till I entered the room where he was.
+Then, however, as I saw him propped up with pillows in a deep chair,
+his face pale, his eyes colorless, and his head swathed up in a bandage
+after leeching, my heart sickened, alike with sorrow and shame at my
+great selfishness.
+
+"I had been warned by Beattie on no account to let any show of feeling
+or emotion escape me, to be as cool and collected as possible, and in
+fact, he said, to behave as though I had seen him the day before.
+
+"'Leave the room, Poynder,' said he to his man, 'and suffer no one to
+knock at the door--mind, not even to knock--till I ring my bell.' He
+waited till the man withdrew, and then in a very gentle voice said, 'How
+are you, Tom? I can't give you my right hand,--the rebellious member
+has ceased to know me!' I thought I should choke as the words met me; I
+don't remember what I said, but I took my chair and sat down beside him.
+
+"'I thought you might have been too much agitated, Tom, but otherwise
+I should have wished to have had your advice along with Beattie. I
+believe, on the whole, however, he has treated me well.'
+
+"I assured him that none could have done more skilfully.
+
+"The skill of the doctor with an old patient is the skill of an
+architect with an old wall. He must not breach it, or it will tumble to
+pieces.
+
+"'Beattie is very able, sir,' said I.
+
+"'No man is able,' replied he, quickly, 'when the question is to repair
+the wastes of time and years. Draw that curtain, and let me look at
+you. No; stand yonder, where the light is stronger. What! is it my eyes
+deceive me,--is your hair white?'
+
+"'It has been so eight years, sir.'
+
+"'And I had not a gray hair till my seventy-second year,--not one. I
+told Beattie, t' other day, that the race of the strong was dying out.
+Good heavens, how old you look! Would any one believe in seeing us that
+you could be my son?'
+
+"'I feel perhaps even more than I look it, sir.'
+
+"'I could swear you did. You are the very stamp of those fellows who
+plead guilty--"Guilty, my Lord; we throw ourselves on the mercy of
+the court." I don't know how the great judgment-seat regards these
+pleas,--with _me_ they meet only scorn. Give me the man who says, "Try
+me, test me." Drop that curtain, and draw the screen across the fire.
+Speak lower, too, my dear,' said he, in a weak soft voice; 'you suffer
+yourself to grow excited, and you excite me.'
+
+"'I will be more cautious, sir,' said I.
+
+"'What are these drops he is giving me? They have an acrid sweet taste.'
+
+"'Aconite, sir; a weak solution.'
+
+"'They say that our laws never forgot feudalism, but I declare I believe
+medicine has never been able to ignore alchemy: drop me out twenty, I
+see that your hand does not shake. Strange thought, is it not, to feel
+that a little phial like that could make a new Baron of the Exchequer?
+You have heard, I suppose, of the attempts--the indecent attempts--to
+induce me to resign. You have heard what they say of my age. They quote
+the registry of my baptism, as though it were the date of a conviction.
+I have yet to learn that the years a man has devoted to his country's
+service are counts in the indictment against his character. Age has been
+less merciful to me than to my fellows,--it has neither made me deaf
+to rancor nor blind to ingratitude. I told the Lord-Lieutenant so
+yesterday.'
+
+"'You saw him then, sir?' asked I.
+
+"'Yes, he was gracious enough to call here; he sent his secretary to ask
+if I would receive a visit from him. I thought that a little more tact
+might have been expected from a man in his station,--it is the common
+gift of those in high places. I perceive,' added he, after a pause, 'you
+don't see what I mean. It is this: royalties, or mock royalties, for
+they are the same in this, condescend to these visits as deathbed
+attentions. They come to us with their courtesies as the priest comes
+with his holy cruet, only when they have the assurance that we are
+beyond recovery. His Excellency ought to have felt that the man to
+whom he proposed this attention was not one to misunderstand its
+significance.'
+
+"'Did he remain long, sir?'
+
+"'Two hours and forty minutes. I measured it by my watch.'
+
+"'Was the fatigue not too much for you?'
+
+"'Of course it was; I fainted before he got to his carriage. He twice
+rose to go away, but on each occasion I had something to say that
+induced him to sit down again. It was the whole case of Ireland we
+reviewed,--that is, I did. I deployed the six millions before him,
+and he took the salute. Yes, sir, education, religious animosities,
+land-tenure, drainage, emigration, secret societies, the rebel priest
+and the intolerant parson, even nationality and mendicant insolence, all
+marched past, and he took the salute! "And now, my Lord," said I, "it is
+the man who tells you these things, who has the courage to tell and the
+ability to display them, and it is this man for whose retirement your
+Ex-lency is so eager, that you have actually deigned to make him a
+visit, that he may carry away into the next world, perhaps, a pleasing
+memory of this; it is this man, I say, whom you propose to replace--and
+by what, my Lord, and by whom? Will a mere lawyer, will any amount of
+_nisi prius_ craft or precedent, give you the qualities you need on that
+bench, or that you need, sadly need, at this council-board? Go back, my
+Lord, and tell your colleagues of the Cabinet that Providence is more
+merciful than a Premier, and that the same overruling hand that has
+sustained me through this trial will uphold me, I trust, for years to
+serve my country, and save it for some time longer from your blundering
+legislation."
+
+"'He stood up, sir, like a prisoner when under sentence; he stood up,
+sir, and as he bowed, I waved my adieu to him as though saying, You
+have heard me, and you are not to carry away from this place a hope, the
+faintest, that any change will come over the determination I have this
+day declared.
+
+"'He went away, and I fainted. The exertion was too long sustained,
+too much for me. I believe, after all,' added he, with a smile, 'his
+Excellency bore it very little better. He told the Archbishop the same
+evening that he'd not go through another such morning for "the garter."
+Men in his station hear so little of truth that it revolts them like
+coarse diet. They 'd rather abstain altogether till forced by actual
+hunger to touch it. When they come to me, however, it is the only fare
+they will find before them.'
+
+"There was a long pause after this," continued Lendrick. "I saw that
+the theme had greatly excited him, and I forbore to say a word, lest
+he should be led to resume it. 'Too old for the bench!' burst he out
+suddenly; 'my Lord, there are men who are never too old, as there are
+those who are never too young. The oak is but a sapling when the pine is
+in decay. Is there that glut of intellect just now in England, are we
+so surfeited with ability that, to make room for the coming men, we, who
+have made our mark on the age, must retire into obscurity?' He tried
+to rise from his seat; his face was flushed, and his eyes flashing; he
+evidently forgot where he was, and with whom, for he sank back with
+a faint sigh, and said, 'Let us talk of it no more. Let us think of
+something else. Indeed, it was to talk of something else I desired to
+see you.' He went on, then, to say that he wished something could be
+done for me. His own means were, he said, sadly crippled; he spoke
+bitterly, resentfully, I thought. 'It is too long a story to enter on,
+and were it briefer, too disagreeable a one,' added he. 'I ought to be a
+rich man, and I am poor; I should be powerful, and I have no influence.
+All has gone ill with me.' After a silence, he continued, 'They have
+a place to offer you: the inspectorship, I think they call it, of
+hospitals at the Cape; it is worth, altogether, nigh a thousand a year,
+a thing not to be refused.'
+
+"'The offer could only be made in compliment to you, sir; and if my
+acceptance were to compromise your position--'
+
+"'Compromise _me!_' broke he in. 'I 'll take care it shall not. No man
+need instruct me in the art of self-defence, sir. Accept at once.'
+
+"'I will do whatever you desire, sir,' was my answer.
+
+"'Go out there yourself, alone,--at first, I mean. Let your boy continue
+his college career; the girl shall come to me.'
+
+"'I have never been separated from my children, sir,' said I, almost
+trembling with anxiety.
+
+"'Such separations are bearable,' added he, 'when it is duty dictates
+them, not disobedience.'
+
+"He fixed his eyes sternly on me, and I trembled as I thought that the
+long score of years was at last come to the reckoning. He did not dwell
+on the theme, however, but in a tone of much gentler meaning, went
+on: 'It will be an act of mercy to let me see a loving face, to hear a
+tender voice. Your boy would be too rough for me.'
+
+"'You would like him, sir. He is thoroughly truthful and honest.'
+
+"'So he may, and yet be self-willed, be noisy, be over-redolent of that
+youth which age resents like outrage. Give me the girl, Tom; let her
+come here, and bestow some of those loving graces on the last hours of
+my life her looks show she should be rich in. For your sake she will be
+kind to me. Who knows what charm there may be in gentleness, even to
+a tiger-nature like mine? Ask her, at least, if she will make the
+sacrifice.'
+
+"I knew not what to answer. If I could not endure the thought of
+parting from Lucy, yet it seemed equally impossible to refuse his
+entreaty,--old, friendless, and deserted as he was. I felt, besides,
+that my only hope of a real reconciliation with him lay through this
+road; deny him this, and it was clear he would never see me more. He
+said, too, it should only be for a season. I was to see how the place,
+the climate, suited for a residence. In a word, every possible argument
+to reconcile me to the project rushed to my mind, and I at last said,
+'Lucy shall decide, sir. I will set out for home at once, and you shall
+have her own answer.'
+
+"'Uninfluenced, sir,' cried he,--'mind that. If influence were to be
+used, I could perhaps tell her what might decide her at once; but I
+would not that pity should plead for me, till she should have seen if
+I be worth compassion! There is but one argument I will permit in my
+favor,--tell her that her picture has been my pleasantest companion
+these three long days. There it lies, always before me. Go now, and let
+me hear from you as soon as may be.' I arose, but somehow my agitation,
+do what I would, mastered me. It was so long since we had met! All the
+sorrows the long estrangement had cost me came to my mind, together
+with little touches of his kindness in long-past years, and I could not
+speak. 'Poor Tom! poor Tom!' said he, drawing me towards him; and he
+kissed me."
+
+As Lendrick said this, emotion overcame him, and he covered his face
+with his hands, and sobbed bitterly. More than a mile of road was
+traversed before a word passed between them. "There they are, doctor!
+There 's Tom, there's Lucy! They are coming to meet me," cried he.
+"Good-bye, doctor; you 'll forgive me, I know,--goodbye;" and he sprang
+off the car as he spoke, while the vicar, respecting the sacredness of
+the joy, wheeled his horse round, and drove back towards the town.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK
+
+A few minutes after the Adjutant had informed Colonel Cave that
+Lieutenant Traflford had reported himself, Sir Brook entered the
+Colonel's quarters, eager to know what was the reason of the sudden
+recall of Traflford, and whether the regiment had been unexpectedly
+ordered for foreign service.
+
+"No, no," said Cave, in some confusion. "We have had our turn of India
+and the Cape; they can't send us away again for some time. It was purely
+personal; it was, I may say, a private reason. You know," added he, with
+a slight smile, "I am acting as a sort of guardian to Trafford just now.
+His family sent him over to me, as to a reformatory."
+
+"From everything I have seen of him, your office will be an easy one."
+
+"Well, I suspect that, so far as mere wildness goes,--extravagance and
+that sort of thing,--he has had enough of it; but there are mistakes
+that a young fellow may make in life--mistakes in judgment--which will
+damage him more irreparably than all his derelictions against morality."
+
+"That I deny,--totally, entirely deny. I know what you mean,--that is,
+I think I know what you mean; and if I guess aright, I am distinctly at
+issue with you on this matter."
+
+"Perhaps I could convince you, notwithstanding. Here's a letter which
+I have no right to show you; it is marked 'Strictly confidential and
+private.' You shall read it,--nay, you must read it,--because you
+are exactly the man to be able to give advice on the matter. You like
+Traflford, and wish him well. Read that over carefully, and tell me what
+you would counsel."
+
+Fossbrooke took out his spectacles, and, having seated himself
+comfortably, with his back to the light, began in leisurely fashion to
+peruse the letter. "It's his mother who writes," said he, turning to
+the signature,--"one of the most worldly women I ever met. She was a
+Lascelles. Don't you know how she married Trafford?"
+
+"I don't remember, if I ever heard."
+
+"It was her sister that Trafford wanted to marry, but she was ambitious
+to be a peeress; and as Bradbrook was in love with her, she told Sir
+Hugh, 'I have got a sister so like me nobody can distinguish between us.
+She 'd make an excellent wife for you. She rides far better than me, and
+she is n't half so extravagant. I 'll send for her.' She did so, and the
+whole thing was settled in a week."
+
+"They have lived very happily together."
+
+"Of course they have. They didn't 'go in,' as the speculators say, for
+enormous profits; they realized very fairly, and were satisfied. I wish
+her handwriting had been more cared for. What's this she says here about
+a subscription?"
+
+"That 's supervision,--the supervision of a parent."
+
+"Supervision of a fiddlestick! the fellow is six feet one inch high,
+and seven-and-twenty years of age; he's quite beyond supervision. Ah!
+brought back all his father's gout, has he? When will people begin to
+admit that their own tempers have something to say to their maladies?
+I curse the cook who made the mulligatawny, but I forget that I ate two
+platefuls of it. So it's the doctor's daughter she objects to. I wish
+she saw her. I wish _you_ saw her, Cave. You are an old frequenter of
+courts and drawing-rooms. I tell you you have seen nothing like this
+doctor's daughter since Laura Bedingfield was presented, and that was
+before your day."
+
+"Every one has heard of the Beauty Bedingfield; but she was my mother's
+contemporary."
+
+"Well, sir, her successors have not eclipsed her! This doctor's
+daughter, as your correspondent calls her, is the only rival of her that
+I have ever seen. As to wit and accomplishments, Laura could not compete
+with Lucy Lendrick."
+
+"You know her, then?" asked the Colonel; and then added, "Tell me
+something about the family."
+
+"With your leave, I will finish this letter first. Ah! here we have the
+whole secret. Lionel Trafford is likely to be that precious prize, an
+eldest son. Who could have thought that the law of entail could sway a
+mother's affections? 'Contract no ties inconsistent with his station.'
+This begins to be intolerable, Cave. I don't think I can go on."
+
+"Yes, yes; read it through."
+
+"She asks you if you know any one who knows these Hendrichs or
+Lendrichs; tell her that you do; tell her that your friend is one of
+those men who have seen a good deal of life, heard more, too, than
+he has seen. She will understand that, and that his name is Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, who, if needed, will think nothing of a journey over to
+Lincolnshire to afford her all the information she could wish for.
+Say this, Cave, and take my word for it, she will put very few more
+questions to you."
+
+"That would be to avow I had already consulted with you. No, no; I must
+not do that."
+
+"The wind-up of the epistle is charming. 'I have certainly no reason to
+love Ireland.' Poor Ireland! here is another infliction upon you. Let us
+hope you may never come to know that Lady Trafford cannot love you."
+
+"Come, come, Fossbrooke, be just, be fair; there is nothing so very
+unreasonable in the anxiety of a mother that her son, who will have a
+good name and a large estate, should not share them both with a person
+beneath him."
+
+"Why must she assume that this is the case,--why take it for granted
+that this girl must be beneath him? I tell you, sir, if a prince of the
+blood had fallen in love with her, it would be a reason to repeal the
+Royal Marriage Act."
+
+"I declare, Fossbrooke, I shall begin to suspect that your own heart has
+not escaped scathless," said Cave, laughing.
+
+The old man's face became crimson, but not with anger. As suddenly it
+grew pale; and in a voice of deep agitation he said, "When an old man
+like myself lays his homage at her feet, it is not hard to believe how a
+young man might love her."
+
+"How did you come to make this acquaintance?" said Cave, anxious to turn
+the conversation into a more familiar channel.
+
+"We chanced to fail in with her brother on the river. We found him
+struggling with a fish far too large for his tackle, and which at last
+smashed his rod and got away. He showed not alone that he was a perfect
+angler, but that he was a fine-tempered fellow, who accepted his defeat
+manfully and well; he had even a good word for his enemy, sir, and
+it was that which attracted me. Trafford and he, young-men-like, soon
+understood each other; he came into our boat, lunched with us, and asked
+us home with him to tea. There 's the whole story. As to the intimacy
+that followed, it was mostly my own doing. I own to you I never so much
+as suspected that Trafford was smitten by her; he was always with her
+brother, scarcely at all in her company; and when he came to tell me he
+was in love, I asked him how he caught the malady, for I never saw him
+near the infection. Once that I knew of the matter, however, I made him
+write home to his family."
+
+"It was by your advice, then, that he wrote that letter?"
+
+"Certainly; I not only advised, I insisted on it,--I read it, too,
+before it was sent off. It was such a letter as, if I had been the young
+fellow's father, would have made me prouder than to hear he had got the
+thanks of Parliament."
+
+"You and I, Fossbrooke, are old bachelors; we are scarcely able to say
+what we should have done if we had had sons."
+
+"I am inclined to believe it would have made us better, not worse," said
+Fossbrooke, gravely.
+
+"At all events, as it was at your instigation this letter was written,
+I can't well suggest your name as an impartial person in the
+transaction,--I mean, as one who can be referred to for advice or
+information."
+
+"Don't do so, sir, or I shall be tempted to say more than may be
+prudent. Have you never noticed, Cave, the effect that a doctor's
+presence produces in the society of those who usually consult him,--the
+reserve,--the awkwardness,--the constraint,--the apologetic tone for
+this or that little indiscretion,--the sitting in the draught or the
+extra glass of sherry? So is it, but in a far stronger degree, when an
+old man of the world like myself comes back amongst those he formerly
+lived with,--one who knew all their past history, how they succeeded
+here, how they failed there,--what led the great man of fashion to
+finish his days in a colony, and why the Court beauty married a bishop.
+Ah, sir, we are the physicians who have all these secrets in our
+keeping. It is ours to know what sorrow is covered by that smile, how
+that merry laugh has but smothered the sigh of a heavy heart. It is only
+when a man has lived to my age, with an unfailing memory too, that he
+knows the real hollowness of life,--all the combinations falsified, all
+the hopes blighted,--the clever fellows that have turned out failures,
+or worse than failures,--the lovely women that have made shipwreck
+through their beauty. It is not only, however, that he knows this, but
+he knows how craft and cunning have won where ability and frankness
+have lost,--how intrigue and trick have done better than genius and
+integrity. With all this knowledge, sir, in their heads, and stout
+hearts within them, such men as myself have their utility in life. They
+are a sort of walking conscience that cannot be ignored. The railroad
+millionnaire talks less boastfully before him who knew him as an
+errand-boy; the _grande dame_ is less superciliously insolent in the
+presence of one who remembered her in a very different character. Take
+my word for it, Cave, Nestor may have been a bit of a bore amongst the
+young Greeks of fashion, but he had his utility too."
+
+"But how am I to answer this letter? What advice shall I give her?"
+
+"Tell her frankly that you have made the inquiry she wished; that the
+young lady, who is as well born as her son, is without fortune, and if
+her personal qualities count for nothing, would be what the world would
+call a 'bad match.'"
+
+"Yes, that sounds practicable. I think that will do."
+
+"Tell her, also, that if she seriously desires that her son should
+continue in the way of that reformation he has so ardently followed for
+some time back, and especially so since he has made the acquaintance of
+this family, such a marriage as this would give her better reasons
+for confidence than all her most crafty devices in match-making and
+settlements."
+
+"I don't think I can exactly tell her that," said Caver smiling.
+
+"Tell her, then, that if this connection be not to her liking, to
+withdraw her son at once from this neighborhood before this girl should
+come to care for him; for if she should, by heavens! he shall marry her,
+if every acre of the estate were to go to a cousin ten times removed!"
+
+"Were not these people all strangers to you t' other day, Fossbrooke?"
+said Cave, in something like a tone of reprehension.
+
+"So they were. I had never so much as heard of them; but she, this girl,
+has a claim upon my interest, founded on a resemblance so strong that
+when I see her, I live back again in the long past, and find myself in
+converse with the dearest friends I ever had. I vow to Heaven I never
+knew the bitterness of want of fortune till now! I never felt how
+powerless and insignificant poverty can make a man till I desired to
+contribute to this girl's happiness; and if I were not an old worthless
+wreck,--shattered and unseaworthy,--I 'd set to work to-morrow to refit
+and try to make a fortune to bestow on her."
+
+If Cave was half disposed to banter the old man on what seemed little
+short of a devoted attachment, the agitation of Fossbrooke's manner--his
+trembling lip, his shaking voice, his changing color--all warned him
+to forbear, and abstain from what might well have proved a perilous
+freedom.
+
+"You will dine with us at mess, Fossbrooke, won't you?"
+
+"No; I shall return at once to Killaloe. I made Dr. Lendrick's
+acquaintance just as I started by the train. I want to see more of
+him. Besides, now that I know what was the emergency that called young
+Trafford up here, I have nothing to detain me."
+
+"Shall you see him before you go?"
+
+"Of course. I am going over to his quarters now."
+
+"You will not mention our conversation?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"I 'd like to show you my letter before I send it off. I 'd be glad to
+think it was what you recommended."
+
+"Write what you feel to be a fair statement of the case, and if by any
+chance an inclination to partiality crosses you, let it be in favor of
+the young. Take my word for it, Cave, there is a selfishness in age that
+needs no ally. Stand by the sons; the fathers and mothers will take care
+of themselves. Good-bye."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. A GREAT MAN'S SCHOOLFELLOW
+
+Whether it was that the Chief Baron had thrown off an attack which had
+long menaced him, and whose slow approaches had gradually impaired his
+strength and diminished his mental activity, or whether, as some of his
+"friends" suggested, that the old man's tenure of life had been renewed
+by the impertinences of the newspapers and the insolent attacks of
+political foes,--an explanation not by any means far-fetched,--whatever
+the cause, he came out of his illness with all the signs of renewed
+vigor, and with a degree of mental acuteness that he had not enjoyed for
+many years before.
+
+"Beattie tells me that this attack has inserted another life in my
+lease," said he; "and I am glad of it. It is right that the men who
+speculated on my death should be reminded of the uncertainty of life by
+the negative proof. It is well, too, that there should be men long-lived
+enough to bridge over periods of mediocrity, and connect the triumphs
+of the past with the coming glories of the future. We are surely not
+destined to a perpetuity of Pendletons and Fitzgibbons?"
+
+It was thus he discoursed to an old legal comrade,--who, less gifted
+and less fortunate, still wore his stuff gown, and pleaded for the
+outer bar,--poor old Billy Haire, the dreariest advocate, and one of the
+honestest fellows that ever carried his bag into court. While nearly all
+of his contemporaries had risen to rank and eminence, Billy toiled on
+through life with small success, liked by his friends, respected by
+the world, but the terror of attorneys, who only saw in him the type of
+adverse decisions and unfavorable verdicts.
+
+For forty-odd years had he lived a life that any but himself would have
+deemed martyrdom,--his law laughed at, his eloquence ridiculed, his
+manner mimicked, jeered at by the bench, quizzed by the bar, sneered at
+by the newspapers, every absurd story tagged to his name, every stupid
+blunder fathered on him, till at last, as it were, by the mere force
+of years, the world came to recognize the incomparable temper that no
+provocation had ever been able to irritate, the grand nature that rose
+above all resentment, and would think better of its fellows than these
+moods of spiteful wit or impertinent drollery might seem to entitle them
+to.
+
+The old Judge liked him; he liked his manly simplicity of character, his
+truthfulness, and his honesty; but perhaps more than all these, did he
+like his dulness. It was so pleasant to him to pelt this poor heavy man
+with smart epigrams and pungent sarcasms on all that was doing in the
+world, and see the hopeless effort he made to follow him.
+
+Billy, too, had another use; he alone, of all the Chief Baron's friends,
+could tell him what was the current gossip of the hall,--what men
+thought, or at least what they said of him. The genuine simplicity of
+Haire's nature gave to his revelations a character so devoid of all
+spitefulness,--it was so evident that, in repeating, he never identified
+himself with his story that Lendrick would listen to words from him
+that, coming from another, his resentment would have repelled with
+indignation.
+
+"And you tell me that the story now is, my whole attack was nothing but
+temper?" said the old Judge, as the two men walked slowly up and down on
+the grass lawn before the door.
+
+"Not that exactly; but they say that constitutional irritability had
+much to say to it."
+
+"It was, in fact, such a seizure as, with a man like yourself, would
+have been a mere nothing."
+
+"Perhaps so."
+
+"I am sure of it, sir; and what more do they say?"
+
+"All sorts of things, which, of course, they know nothing about. Some
+have it that you refused the peerage, others that it was not offered."
+
+"Ha!" said the old man, irritably, while a faint flush tinged his cheek.
+
+"They say, too," continued Haire, "that when the Viceroy informed you
+that you were not to be made a peer, you said: 'Let the Crown look to
+it, then. The Revenue cases all come to my court; and so long as I sit
+there, they shall never have a verdict.'"
+
+"You must have invented that yourself, Billy," said the Judge, with a
+droll malice in his eye. "Come, confess it is your own. It is _so_ like
+you."
+
+"No, on my honor," said the other, solemnly.
+
+"Not that I would take it ill, Haire, if you had. When a man has a turn
+for epigram, his friends must extend their indulgence to the humor."
+
+"I assure you, positively, it is not mine."
+
+"That is quite enough; let us talk of something else. By the way, I have
+a letter to show you. I put it in my pocket this morning, to let you
+see it; but, first of all, I must show you the writer,--here she is."
+He drew forth a small miniature case, and, opening it, handed it to the
+other.
+
+"What a handsome girl! downright beautiful!"
+
+"My granddaughter, sir," said the old man, proudly.
+
+"I declare, I never saw a lovelier face," said Haire. "She must be
+a rare cheat if she be not as good as she is beautiful. What a sweet
+mouth!"
+
+"The brow is fine; there is a high intelligence about the eyes and the
+temples."
+
+"It is the smile, that little lurking smile, that captivates me. What
+may her age be?"
+
+"Something close on twenty. Now for her letter. Read that."
+
+While Haire perused the letter, the old Judge sauntered away, looking
+from time to time at the miniature, and muttering some low inaudible
+words as he went.
+
+"I don't think I understand it. I am at a loss to catch what she is
+drifting at," said Haire, as he finished the first side of the letter.
+"What is she so grateful for?"
+
+"You think the case is one which calls for little gratitude, then. What
+a sarcastic mood you are in this morning, Haire!" said the Judge, with
+a malicious twinkle of the eye. "Still, there are young ladies in the
+world who would vouchsafe to bear me company in requital for being
+placed at the head of such a house as this."
+
+"I can make nothing of it," said the other, hopelessly.
+
+"The case is this," said the Judge, as he drew his arm within the
+other's. "Tom Lendrick has beeu offered a post of some value--some value
+to a man poor as he is--at the Cape. I have told him that his acceptance
+in no way involves me. I have told those who have offered the place that
+I stand aloof in the whole negotiation,--that in their advancement of
+my son they establish no claim upon _me_, I have even said I will know
+nothing whatever of the incident." He paused for some minutes, and then
+went on: "I have told Tom, however, if his circumstances were such as
+to dispose him to avail himself of this offer, that--until he assured
+himself that the place was one to his liking, that it gave a reasonable
+prospect of permanence, that the climate was salubrious, and the society
+not distasteful--I would take his daughter to live with me."
+
+"He has a son, too, has n't he?"
+
+"He has, sir, and he fain would have induced me to take _him_ instead of
+the girl; but this I would not listen to. I have not nerves for the loud
+speech and boisterous vitality of a young fellow of four or five and
+twenty. His very vigor would be a standing insult to me, and the fellow
+would know it. When men come to my age, they want a mild atmosphere in
+morals and manners, as well as in climate. My son's physiology has not
+taught him this, doctor though he be."
+
+"I see,--I see it all now," said Haire; "and the girl, though sorry to
+be separated from her father, is gratified by the thought of becoming a
+tie between him and you."
+
+"That is not in the record, sir," said the Judge, sternly. "Keep to your
+brief." He took the letter sharply from the other's hand as he spoke.
+"My granddaughter has not had much experience of life; but her woman's
+tact has told her that her real difficulty--her only one, perhaps--will
+be with Lady Lendrick. She cannot know that Lady Lendrick's authority
+in this house is nothing,--less than nothing. I would never have invited
+her to come here, had it been otherwise."
+
+"Have you apprised Lady Lendrick of this arrangement?"
+
+"No, sir; nor shall I. it shall be for you to do that 'officiously,' as
+the French say, to distinguish from what is called 'officially.' I mean
+you to call upon her and say, in the course of conversation, informally,
+accidentally, that Miss Lendrick's arrival at the Priory has been
+deferred, or that it is fixed for such a date,--in fact, sir, whatever
+your own nice tact may deem the neatest mode of alluding to the topic,
+leaving to her the reply. You understand me?"
+
+"I 'm not so sure that I do."
+
+"So much the better; your simplicity will be more inscrutable than your
+subtlety, Haire. I can deal with the one--the other masters me."
+
+"I declare frankly I don't like the mission. I was never, so to say, a
+favorite with her Ladyship."
+
+"Neither was I, sir," said the other, with a peremptory loudness that
+was almost startling.
+
+"Hadn't you better intimate it by a few lines in a note? Had n't you
+better say that, having seen your son during his late visit to town, and
+learnt his intention to accept a colonial appointment--"
+
+"All this would be apologetic, sir, and must not be thought of. Don't
+you know, Haire, that every unnecessary affidavit is a flaw in a man's
+case? Go and see her; your very awkwardness will imply a secret, and she
+'ll be so well pleased with her acuteness in discovering the mystery,
+she 'll half forget its offence."
+
+"Let me clearly understand what I' ve got to do. I 'm to tell her or to
+let her find out that you have been reconciled to your son Tom?"
+
+"There is not a word of reconciliation, sir, in all your instructions.
+You are to limit yourself to the statement that touches my
+granddaughter."
+
+"Very well; it will be so much the easier. I'm to say, then, that you
+have adopted her, and placed her at the head of your house; that she is
+to live here in all respects as its mistress?"
+
+He paused; and as the Judge bowed a concurrence, he went on: "Of course
+you will allow me to add that I was never consulted; that you did not
+ask my opinion, and that I never gave one?"
+
+"You are at liberty to, say all this."
+
+"I would even say that I don't exactly see how the thing will work. A
+very young girl, with of course a limited experience of life, will
+have no common difficulties in dealing with a world so new and strange,
+particularly without the companionship of one of her own sex."
+
+"I cannot promise to supply that want, but she shall see as much of
+_you_ as possible." And the words were uttered with a blended courtesy
+and malice, of which he was perfect master. Poor Haire, however, only
+saw the complimentary part, and hurriedly pledged himself to be at Miss
+Lendrick's orders at all times.
+
+"Come and let me show you how I mean to lodge her. I intend her to feel
+a perfect independence of me and my humors. We are to see each other
+from inclination, not constraint: I intend, sir that we should live on
+good terms; and as the Church will have nothing to say to the compact,
+it is possible it may succeed.
+
+"These rooms are to be hers," said he, opening a door which offered a
+_vista_ through several handsomely furnished rooms, all looking out upon
+a neatly kept flower-garden. "Lady Lendrick, I believe, had long since
+destined them for a son and daughter-in-law of hers, who are on their
+way home from India. The plan will be now all the more difficult of
+accomplishment."
+
+"Which will not make my communication to her the pleasanter."
+
+"But redound so much the more to the credit of your adroitness, Haire,
+if you succeed. Come over here this evening and report progress." And
+with this he nodded an easy good-bye, and strolled down the garden.
+
+"I don't envy Haire his brief in this case," muttered he. "He'll not
+have the 'court with him,' that's certain;" and he laughed spitefully to
+himself as he went.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. LAST DAYS
+
+It may seem a hardship, but not improbably it is in its way an
+alleviation, that we are never involved in any of the great trials
+in life without having to deal with certain material embarrassments,
+questions of vulgar interest which concern our pockets and affect our
+finances.
+
+Poor Lendrick's was a case in point. He was about to leave his
+country,--to tear himself from a home he had embellished,--to separate
+from his children that he loved so dearly, to face a new life in a new
+land, friendless and alone; and with all these cares on his heart, he
+had creditors to satisfy, debts to insure payment of by security, and,
+not least of his troubles, his house to relet. Now, the value the world
+sets on that which is not for sale is very unlike its estimate for the
+same commodity when brought to market. The light claret your friend
+pronounced a very pleasant little wine at your own table, he would
+discover, when offered for purchase, to be poor, washy, and acrid. The
+horse you had left him, and whose performance he had encomiumized,
+if put up to auction, would be found spavined, or windgalled, or
+broken-down. Such a stern test is money, so fearfully does its coarse
+jingle jar upon all the music of flattery, and make discord of all
+compliment. To such a pitch is the process carried, that even pretty
+women, who as wives were objects of admiration to despairing and
+disappointed adorers, have become, by widowhood, very ordinary
+creatures, simply because they are once more "in the market."
+
+It is well for us that heaven itself was not in the "Price Current,"
+or we might have begun to think lightly of it. At all events we 'd have
+higgled about the cost, and tried to get there as cheaply as might be.
+
+From the day that the Swan's Nest appeared in the Dublin papers "to be
+let furnished, for the three years of an unexpired term," Lendrick was
+besieged by letters and applications. All the world apparently wanted
+the place, but wanted it in some way or other quite out of his power
+to accord. One insisted on having it unfurnished, and for a much longer
+period than he could give. Another desired more land, and the right of
+shooting over several hundred additional acres. A third would like the
+house and garden, but would not burden himself with the lawn, and could
+not see why Lendrick might not continue to hold the meadow-land, and
+come back from the Cape or anywhere else to mow the grass and rick it in
+due season.
+
+A schoolmistress proposed he should build a dormitory for thirty young
+ladies, and make the flower-garden into a playground; and a miller from
+Limerick inquired whether he was willing to join in a suit to establish
+a right of water-power by diverting a stream from the Shannon through
+the dining-room to turn an undershot wheel.
+
+It was marvellous with what patience and courtesy Lendrick replied to
+these and such-like, politely assuring the writers how he regretted
+his inability to meet their wishes, and modestly confessing that he had
+neither the money nor the time to make his house other than it was.
+
+All these, however, were as nothing to his trials when the day arrived
+when the house and grounds, in the language of the advertisement, were
+"on view," and the world of the curious and idle were free to invade the
+place, stroll at will through rooms and gardens, comment and criticise
+not merely the objects before them, but the taste and the fortunes, the
+habits and the lives of those who had made this their home, and these
+things part of their own natures.
+
+In a half-jesting humor, but really to save Lendrick from a
+mortification which, to a nature timid and sensitive as his, would
+have been torture, Sir Brook and Tom agreed to divide the labors of
+ciceroneship between them; the former devoting his attentions to
+the house and furniture, while Tom assumed the charge of grounds and
+gardens. To complete the arrangement, Lendrick and Lucy were banished to
+a small summer-house, and strictly enjoined never to venture abroad so
+long as the stranger horde overran the territory.
+
+"I declare, my dear, I almost think the remedy worse than the disease,"
+said Lendrick to his daughter, as he paced with short feverish steps the
+narrow limits of his prison-house. "This isolation here has something
+secret, something that suggests shame about it. I think I could almost
+rather face all the remarks our visitors might make than sit down here
+to fancy and brood over them."
+
+"I suspect not, dearest papa; I believe the plan will spare us much that
+might pain us."
+
+"After all, child, these people have a right to be critical, and they
+are not bound to know by what associations you and I are tied to that
+old garden-seat or that bookstand, and we ought to be able to avoid
+showing them this."
+
+"Perhaps we ought, papa; but could we do so? that's-the question."
+
+"Surely the tradesman affects no such squeamishness about what he offers
+for sale."
+
+"True, papa; because none of his wares have caught any clew to his
+identity. They have never been his in the sense which makes possession
+pleasure."
+
+"I wish they would not laugh without there; their coarse laughter sounds
+to me so like vulgar ridicule. I hardly thought all this would have made
+me so irritable; even the children's voices jar on my nerves."
+
+He turned away his head, but her eyes followed him, and two heavy tears
+stole slowly along her cheek, and her lip quivered as she looked.
+
+"There, they are going away," said he, listening; "I am better now."
+
+"That 's right, dearest papa; I knew it was a mere passing pang," said
+she, drawing her arm within his, and walking along at his side. "How
+kind Sir Brook is!"
+
+"How kind every one, we might say. Poor Mills is like a brother, and
+Tobin too,--I scarcely expected so much heart from him. He gave me
+his old lancet-case as a keepsake yesterday, and I declare his voice
+trembled as he said good-bye."
+
+"As for the poor people, I hear, papa, that one would think they had
+lost their nearest and dearest. Molly Dew says they were crying in her
+house this morning over their breakfast as if it was a funeral."
+
+"Is it not strange, Lucy, that what touches the heart so painfully
+should help to heal the pang it gives? There is that in all this
+affection for us that gladdens while it grieves. All,--all are so kind
+to us! That young fellow--Trafford I think his name is--he was waiting
+at the post for his letters this morning when I came up, and it seems
+that Foss-brooke had told him of my appointment,--indiscreet of him, for
+I would not wish it talked of; but Trafford turned to him and said, 'Ask
+Dr. Lendrick, is he decided about going;' and when he heard that I was,
+he scarcely said goodbye, but jumped into a cab, and drove off full
+speed.
+
+"'What does that mean?' asked I.
+
+"'He was so fond of Tom,' said Fossbrooke, 'they were never separate
+this last month or five weeks;' so you see, darling, each of us has his
+sphere of love and affection."
+
+Lucy was crimson over face and neck, but never spoke a word. Had she
+spoken it would have been, perhaps, to corroborate Sir Brook, and to say
+how fond the young men were of each other. I do not affirm this, I only
+hint that it is likely. Where there are blanks in this narrative, the
+reader has as much right to fill them as myself.
+
+"Sir Brook," continued Lendrick, "thinks well of the young man; but for
+my own part I hardly like to see Tom in close companionship with one so
+much his superior in fortune. He is easily led, and has not yet learned
+that stern lesson in life, how to confess that there are many things he
+has no pretension to aspire to."
+
+"Tom loves you too sincerely, papa, ever to do that which would
+seriously grieve you."
+
+"He would not deliberately,--he would not in cold blood, Lucy; but young
+men, when together, have not many moods of deliberation or cold blood.
+But let us not speculate on trouble that may never come. It is enough
+for the present that he and Trafford are separated, if Trafford was even
+likely to lead him into ways of extravagance."
+
+"What 's that! Is n't it, Tom? He's laughing heartily at something. Yes;
+here he comes."
+
+"You may come out; the last of them has just driven off," cried Tom,
+knocking at the door, while he continued to laugh on immoderately.
+
+"What is it, Tom? What are you laughing at?"
+
+"You should have seen it; it's nothing to tell, but it was wonderful to
+witness. I'll never forget it as long as I live."
+
+"But what was it?" asked she, impatiently.
+
+"I thought we had fully done with all our visitors,--and a rum set they
+were, most of them, not thinking of taking the place, but come out of
+mere curiosity,--when who should drive up with two postilions and
+four spicy grays but Lady Drumcarran and a large party, three horsemen
+following? I just caught the word 'Excellency,' and found out from
+one of the servants that a tall old man with white hair and very heavy
+eyebrows was the Lord-Lieutenant. He stooped a good deal, and walked
+tenderly; and as the Countess was most eager about the grounds and the
+gardens, they parted company very soon, he going into the house to sit
+down, while she prosecuted her inquiries without doors.
+
+"I took him into the library; we had a long chat about fishing, and
+fish-curing, and the London markets, and flax, and national education,
+and land-tenure, and such-like. Of course I affected not to know who he
+was, and I took the opportunity to say scores of impertinences about
+the stupidity of the Castle, and the sort of men they send over here
+to govern us; and he asked me if I was destined for any career or
+profession, and I told him frankly that whenever I took up anything I
+always was sure to discover it was the one very thing that didn't suit
+me; and as I made this unlucky discovery in law, medicine, and the
+Church, I had given up my college career, and was now in a sort of
+interregnal period, wondering what it was to be next. I did n't like to
+own that the _res angusto_ had anything to say to it. It was no business
+of his to know about that.
+
+"'You surely have friends able and willing to suggest something that
+would fit you,' said he. 'Is not the Chief Baron your grandfather?'
+
+"'Yes, and he might make me crier of his court; but I think he has
+promised the reversion to his butler. The fact is, I 'd not do over
+well with any fixed responsibilities attached to me. I 'd rather be a
+guerilla than serve in the regulars, and so I 'll just wait and see if
+something won't turn up in that undisciplined force I 'd like to serve
+with.'
+
+"'I 'll give you my name,' said he, 'before we part, and possibly I may
+know some one who might be of use to you.'
+
+"I thanked him coolly, and we talked of something else, when there came
+a short plump little fellow, all beard and gold chains, to say that Lady
+Drumcarran was waiting for him. 'Tell her I'm coming,' said he; 'and,
+Balfour,' he cried out, 'before you go away, give this gentleman my
+address, and if he should call, take care that I see him.'
+
+"Balfour eyed me, and I eyed him, with, I take it, pretty much the same
+result, which said plainly enough, 'You 're not the man for me.'
+
+"'What in heaven's name is this?' cried the Viceroy, as he got outside
+and saw Lady Drumcarran at the head of a procession carrying plants,
+slips, and flower-pots down to the carriage.
+
+"'Her Ladyship has made a raid amongst the greeneries,' said Balfour,
+'and tipped the head-gardener, that tall fellow there with the yellow
+rose-tree; as the place is going to be sold, she thought she might well
+do a little genteel pillage.' Curious to see who our gardener could be,
+all the more that he was said to be 'tall,' I went forward, and what
+do you think I saw? Sir Brook, with a flower-pot under one arm, and
+a quantity of cuttings under the other, walking a little after the
+Countess, who was evidently giving him ample directions as to her
+intentions. I could scarcely refrain from an outburst of laughing, but I
+got away into the shrubbery and watched the whole proceedings. I was
+too far off to hear, but this much I saw. Sir Brook had deposited his
+rose-tree and his slips on the rumble, and stood beside the carriage
+with his hat off. When his Excellency came up, a sudden movement took
+place in the group, and the Viceroy, seeming to push his way through
+the others, cried out something I could not catch, and then grasped Sir
+Brook's hand with both his own. All was tumult in a moment. My Lady, in
+evident confusion and shame,--that much I could see,--was courtesying
+deeply to Sir Brook, who seemed not to understand her apologies--,
+at least, he appeared stately and courteous, as usual, and not in the
+slightest degree put out or chagrined by the incident. Though Lady
+Drumcarran was profuse of her excuses, and most eager to make amends
+for her mistake, the Viceroy took Sir Brook's arm and led him off to a
+little distance, where they talked together for a few moments.
+
+"'It's a promise, then, Fossbrooke,--you promise me!' cried he aloud, as
+he approached the carriage.
+
+"'Rely upon me,--and within a week, or ten days at farthest,' said Sir
+Brook, as they drove away.
+
+"I have not seen him since, and I scarcely know if I shall be able to
+meet him without laughing."
+
+"Here he comes," cried Lucy; "and take care, Tom, that you do nothing
+that might offend him."
+
+The caution was so far unnecessary that Sir Brook's manner, as he drew
+near, had a certain stately dignity that invited no raillery.
+
+"You have been detained a long time a prisoner, Dr. Len-drick," said
+Fossbrooke, calmly; "but your visitors were so charmed with all they saw
+that they lingered on, unwilling to take their leave."
+
+"Tom tells me we had some of our county notabilities,--Lord and Lady
+Drumcarran, the Lacys, and others," said Lendrick.
+
+"Yes; and the Lord-Lieutenant, too, whom I used to know at Christ
+Church. He would have been well pleased to have met you. He told me your
+father was the ablest and most brilliant talker he ever knew."
+
+"Ah! we are very unlike," said Lendrick, blushing modestly. "Did he
+give any hint as to whether his party are pleased or the reverse with my
+father's late conduct?"
+
+"He only said, 'I wish you knew him, Fossbrooke; I sincerely wish you
+knew him, if only to assure him that he will meet far more generous
+treatment from us than from the Opposition.' He added that we were men
+to suit each other; and this, of course, was a flattery for which I am
+very grateful."
+
+"And the tall man with the stoop was the Lord-Lieutenant?" asked Tom. "I
+passed half an hour or more with him in the library, and he invited me
+to call upon him, and told a young fellow, named Balfour, to give me his
+address, which he forgot to do."
+
+"We can go together, if you have no objection; for I, too, have promised
+to pay my respects," said Sir Brook.
+
+Tom was delighted at the suggestion, but whispered in his sister's ear,
+as they passed out into the garden, "I thought I 'd have burst my sides
+laughing when I met him; but it's the very last thing in my thoughts
+now. I declare I 'd as soon pull a tiger's whiskers as venture on the
+smallest liberty with him."
+
+"I think you are right, Tom," said she, squeezing his arm
+affectionately, to show that she not alone agreed with him, but was
+pleased that he had given her the opportunity of doing so.
+
+"I wonder is he telling the governor what happened this morning? It can
+scarcely be that, though, they look so grave."
+
+"Papa seems agitated too," said Lucy.
+
+"I just caught Trafford's name as they passed. I hope he 's not saying
+anything against him. It is not only that Lionel Trafford is as good a
+fellow as ever lived, but that he fully believes Fossbrooke likes him. I
+don't think he could be so false; do you, Lucy?"
+
+"I 'm certain he is not. There, papa is beckoning to you; he wants you;"
+and Lucy turned hurriedly away, anxious to conceal her emotion, for her
+cheeks were burning, and her lips trembled with agitation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER
+
+It was decided on that evening that Sir Brook and Tom should set out for
+Dublin the next morning. Lucy knew not why this sudden determination had
+been come to, and Tom, who never yet had kept a secret from her, was now
+reserved and uncommunicative. Nor was it merely that he held aloof his
+confidence, but he was short and snappish in his manner, as though she
+had someway vexed him, and vexed him in some shape that he could not
+openly speak of or resent.
+
+This was very new to her from him, and yet how was it? She had not
+courage to ask for an explanation. Tom was not exactly one of those
+people of whom it was pleasant to ask explanations., Where the matter to
+be explained might be one of delicacy, he had a way of abruptly blurting
+out the very thing one would have desired might be kept back. Just as an
+awkward surgeon will tear off the dressing, and set a wound a-bleeding,
+would he rudely destroy the work of time in healing by a moment of rash
+impatience. It was knowing this--knowing it well--that deterred Lucy
+from asking what might lead to something not over-agreeable to hear.
+
+"Shall I pack your portmanteau, Tom?" asked she. It was a task that
+always fell to her lot.
+
+"No; Nicholas can do it,--any one can do it," said he, as he mumbled
+with an unlit cigar between his teeth.
+
+"You used to say I always did it best, Tom,--that I never forgot
+anything," said she, caressingly.
+
+"Perhaps I did,--perhaps I thought so. Look here, Lucy," said he, as
+though by an immense effort he had got strength to say what he wanted,
+"I am half vexed with you, if not more than half."
+
+"Vexed with me, Tom,--vexed with _me!_ and for what?"
+
+"I don't think that you need ask. I am inclined to believe that you know
+perfectly well what I mean, and what I would much rather not say, if you
+will only let me."
+
+"I do not," said she, slowly and deliberately.
+
+"Do you mean to say, Lucy," said he, and his manner was almost stern as
+he spoke, "that you have no secrets from me, that you are as frank and
+outspoken with me today as you were three months ago?"
+
+"I do say so."
+
+"Then what's the meaning of this letter?" cried he, as, carried away
+by a burst of passion, he overstepped all the prudential reserve he had
+sworn to himself to regard. "What does this mean?"
+
+"I know nothing of that letter, nor what it contains," said she,
+blushing till her very brow became crimson.
+
+"I don't suppose you do, for though it is addressed to you, the seal is
+unbroken; but you know whose handwriting it's in, and you know that you
+have had others from the same quarter."
+
+"I believe the writing is Mr. Trafford's," said she, as a deathlike
+paleness spread over her face, "because he himself once asked me to read
+a letter from him in the same handwriting."
+
+"Which you did?"
+
+"No; I refused. I handed the letter back to him unopened, and said that,
+as I certainly should not write to him without my father's knowledge and
+permission, I would not read a letter from him without the same."
+
+"And what was the epistle, then, that the vicar's housekeeper handed him
+from you?"
+
+"That same letter I have spoken of. He left it on my table, insisting
+and believing that on second thoughts I would read it. He thought so
+because it was not to me, though addressed to me, but the copy of a
+letter he had written to his mother, about me certainly." Here she
+blushed deeply again. "As I continued, however, of the same mind,
+determined not to see what the letter contained, I re-enclosed it and
+gave it to Mrs. Brennan to hand to him."
+
+"And all this you kept a secret from me?"
+
+"It was not my secret. It was his. It was his till such time as he could
+speak of it to my father, and this he told me had not yet come."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I never asked him that. I do not think, Tom," said she, with much
+emotion, "it was such a question as you would have had me ask."
+
+"Do you love--Come, darling Lucy, don't be angry with me. I never meant
+to wound your feelings. Don't sob that way, my dear, dear Lucy. You know
+what a rough coarse fellow I am; but I'd rather die than offend you.
+Why did you not tell me of all this? I never liked any one so well as
+Trafford, and why leave me to the chance of misconstruing him? Would n't
+it have been the best way to have trusted me as you always have?"
+
+"I don't see what there was to have confided to you. Mr. Trafford might,
+if he wished. I mean, that if there was a secret at all. I don't know
+what I mean," cried she, covering her face with her handkerchief, while
+a convulsive motion of her shoulders showed how she was moved.
+
+"I am as glad as if I had got a thousand pounds, to know you have been
+so right, so thoroughly right, in all this, Lucy; and I am glad, too,
+that Trafford has done nothing to make me think less well of him. Let's
+be friends; give me your hand, like a dear, good girl, and forgive me if
+I have said what pained you."
+
+"I am not angry, Tom," said she, giving her hand, but with her head
+still averted.
+
+"God knows it's not the time for us to fall out," said he, with a
+shaking voice. "Going to separate as we are, and when to be together
+again not so easy to imagine."
+
+"You are surely going out with papa?" asked she, eagerly.
+
+"No; they say not."
+
+"Who says not?"
+
+"The governor himself--Sir Brook--old Mills--everybody, in fact. They
+have held a committee of the whole house on it. I think Nicholas was
+present too; and it has been decided that as I am very much given to
+idleness, bitter beer, and cigars, I ought not to be anywhere where
+these ingredients compose the chief part of existence. Now the Cape is
+precisely one of these places; and if you abstract the idleness,
+the bitter beer, and the tobacco, there is nothing left but a little
+Hottentotism, which is neither pleasant nor profitable. Voted,
+therefore, I am not to go to the Cape. It is much easier, however, to
+open the geography books, and show all the places I am unfit for, than
+to hit upon the one that will suit me. And so I am going up to Dublin
+to-morrow with Sir Brook to consult--I don't well know whom, perhaps a
+fortune-teller--what 's to be done with me. All I do know is, I am to
+see my grandfather, and to wait on the Viceroy, and I don't anticipate
+that any of us will derive much pleasure from either event."
+
+"Oh, Tom! what happiness it would be to me if grandpapa--" She stopped,
+blushed, and tried in vain to go on.
+
+"Which is about the least likely thing in the world, Lucy," said he,
+answering her unspoken sentence. "I am just the sort of creature he
+could n't abide,--not to add that, from all I have heard of him, I 'd
+rather take three years with hard labor at the hulks than live with him.
+It will do very well with you. You have patience, and a soft forgiving
+disposition. You 'll fancy yourself, besides, Heaven knows what of a
+heroine, for submitting to his atrocious temper, and imagine slavery to
+be martyrdom. Now, I could n't. I 'd let him understand that I was one
+of the family, and had a born right to be as ill-tempered, as selfish,
+and as unmannerly as any other Lendrick."
+
+"But if he should like you, Tom? If you made a favorable impression upon
+him when you met?"
+
+"If I should, I think I 'd go over to South Carolina, and ask some one
+to buy me as a negro, for I 'd know in my heart it was all I could be
+fit for."
+
+"Oh, my dear, dear Tom, I wish you would meet him in a different spirit,
+if only for poor papa's sake. You know what store he lays by grandpapa's
+affection."
+
+"I see it, and it puzzles me. If any one should continue to ill-treat
+me for five-and-twenty years, I 'd not think of beginning to forgive him
+till after fifty more, and I 'm not quite sure I 'd succeed then."
+
+"But you are to meet him, Tom," said she, hopefully. "I trust much to
+your meeting."
+
+"That 's more than I do, Lucy. Indeed, I 'd not go at all, except on the
+condition which I have made with myself, to accept nothing from him.
+I had not meant to tell you this; but it has escaped me, and can't
+be helped. Don't hang your head and pout your lip over that bad boy,
+brother Tom. I intend to be as submissive and as humble in our interview
+as if I was going to owe my life to him, just because I want him to be
+very kind and gracious to you; and I 'd not wish to give him any reason
+for saying harsh things of me, which would hurt you to listen to. If I
+only knew how--and I protest I do not--I'd even try and make a favorable
+impression upon him, for I 'd like to be able to come and see you, Lucy,
+now and then, and it would be a sore blow to me if he forbade me."
+
+"You don't think I'd remain under his roof if he should do so?" asked
+she, indignantly.
+
+"Not if you saw him turn me away,--shutting the door in my face; but
+what scores of civil ways there are of intimating that one is not
+welcome! But why imagine all these?--none of them may happen; and, as
+Sir Brook says, the worst misfortunes of life are those that never come
+to us; and I, for one, am determined to deal only with real, actual,
+present enemies. Is n't he a rare old fellow?--don't you like him,
+Lucy?"
+
+"I like him greatly."
+
+"He loves you, Lucy,--he told me so; he said you were so like a girl
+whose godfather he was, and that he had loved her as if she were his
+own. Whether she had died, or whether something had happened that
+estranged them, I could n't make out; but he said you had raised up
+some old half-dead embers in his heart, and kindled a flame where he had
+thought all was to be cold forever; and the tears came into his eyes,
+and that great deep voice of his grew fainter and fainter, and something
+that sounded like a sob stopped him. I always knew he was a brave,
+stout-hearted, gallant fellow; but that he could feel like this I never
+imagined. I almost think it was some girl he was going to be married
+to once that you must be so like. Don't you think so?" "I don't know;
+I cannot even guess," said she, slowly. "It's not exactly the sort of
+nature where one would expect to find much sentiment; but, as he
+said one day, some old hearts are like old chateaux, with strange old
+chambers in them that none have traversed for years and years, and with
+all the old furniture moth-eaten and crumbling, but standing just where
+it used to be. I 'd not wonder if it was of himself he was speaking."
+
+She remained silent and thoughtful, and he went on,--"There's a deal of
+romance under that quaint stern exterior. What do you think he said this
+morning?--'Your father's heart is wrapped up in this place, Tom; let us
+set to work to make money and buy it for him. 'I did not believe he was
+serious, and I said some stupid nonsense about a diamond necklace and
+ear-rings for you on the day of presentation; and he turned upon me with
+a fierce look, and in a voice trembling with anger, said, 'Well, sir,
+and whom would they become better? Is it her birth or her beauty would
+disparage them, if they were the jewels of a crown?' I know I 'll not
+cross another whim of his in the same fashion again; though he came
+to my room afterwards to make an apology for the tone in which he had
+spoken, and assured me it should never be repeated." "I hope you told
+him you had not felt offended." "I did more,--I did, at least, what
+pleased him more,--I said I was delighted with that plan of his about
+buying up the Nest, and that the very thought gave a zest to any pursuit
+I might engage in; and so, Lucy, it is settled between us that if
+his Excellency won't make me something with a fine salary and large
+perquisites, Sir Brook and I are to set out I'm not very sure where, and
+we are to do I'm not quite certain what; but two such clever fellows,
+uniting experience with energy, can't fail, and the double event--I mean
+the estate and the diamonds--are just as good as won already. Well,
+what do you want, Nicholas?" cried Tom, as the grim old man put his head
+inside the door and retired again, mumbling something as he went. "Oh,
+I remember it now; he has been tormenting the governor all day about
+getting him some place,--some situation or other; and the old rascal
+thinks we are the most ungrateful wretches under the sun, to be so full
+of our own affairs and so forgetful of his: we are certainly not likely
+to leave him unprovided for; he can't imagine that. Here he comes again.
+My father is gone into Killaloe, Nicholas; but don't be uneasy, he 'll
+not forget you."
+
+"Forgettin's one thing, Master Tom, and rememberin's the right way is
+another," said Nicholas, sternly. "I told him yesterday, and I repeated
+it to-day, I won't go among them Hottentots."
+
+"Has he asked you?"
+
+"Did he ask me?" repeated the old man, leaning forward and eying him
+fiercely,--"did he ask me?"
+
+"My brother means, Nicholas, that papa could n't expect you to go so far
+away from your home and your friends."
+
+"And where's my home and my friends?" cried the irascible old fellow;
+"and I forty-eight years in the family? Is that the way to have a home
+or friends either?"
+
+"No, Tom, no,--I entreat--I beg of you," said Lucy, standing between her
+brother and the old man, and placing her hand on Tom's lips; "you know
+well that he can't help it."
+
+"That's just it," cried Nicholas, catching the words; "I can't help it.
+I 'm too old to help it. It is n't after eight-and-forty years one ought
+to be looking out for new sarvice."
+
+"Papa hopes that grandpapa will have no objection to taking you,
+Nicholas; he means to write about it to-day; but if there should be a
+difficulty, he has another place."
+
+"Maybe I'm to 'list and be a sodger; faix, it wouldn't be much worse
+than going back to your grandfather."
+
+"Why, you discontented old fool," burst in Tom, "have n't you been
+teasing our souls out these ten years back by your stories of the fine
+life you led in the Chief Baron's house?"
+
+"The eatin' was better, and the drinkin' was better," said Nicholas,
+resolutely. "Wherever the devil it comes from, the small beer here bangs
+Banagher; but for the matter of temper he was one of yourselves! and by
+my sowl, it's a family not easily matched!"
+
+"I agree with you; any other man than my father would have pitched you
+neck and crop into the Shannon years ago,--I 'll be shot if I would
+n't."
+
+"Mind them words. What you said there is a threat; it's what the law
+makes a constructive threat, and we 'll see what the Coorts say to it."
+
+"I declare, Nicholas, you would provoke any one; you will let no one be
+your friend," said Lucy; and taking her brother's arm she led him away,
+while the old man, watching them till they entered the shrubbery, seated
+himself leisurely in a deep arm-chair, and wiped the perspiration from
+his forehead. "By my conscience," muttered he, "it takes two years off
+my life every day I have to keep yez in order."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. MR. HAIRE'S MISSION.
+
+Although the Chief Baron had assured Haire that his mission had no
+difficulty about it, that he 'd find her Ladyship would receive him in a
+very courteous spirit, and, finally, that "he'd do the thing" admirably,
+the unhappy little lawyer approached his task with considerable
+misgivings, which culminated in actual terror as he knocked at the door
+of the house where Lady Lendrick resided in Merrion Square, and sent up
+his name.
+
+"The ladies are still in committee, sir," said a bland-looking,
+usher-like personage, who, taking up Haire's card from the salver,
+scanned the name with a half-supercilious look.
+
+"In committee! ah, indeed, I was not aware," stammered out Haire. "I
+suspect--that is--I have reason to believe her Ladyship is aware--I mean
+my name is not unknown to Lady Lendrick--would you kindly present my
+card?"
+
+"Take it up, Bates," said the man in black, and then turned away to
+address another person, for the hall was crowded with people of various
+conditions and ranks, and who showed in their air and manner a something
+of anxiety, if not of impatience.
+
+"Mr. MacClean,--where's Mr. MacClean?" cried a man in livery, as he held
+forth a square-shaped letter. "Is Mr. MacClean there?"
+
+"Yes, I'm Mr. MacClean," said a red-faced, fussy-looking man. "I'm Mr.
+George Henry MacClean, of 41 Mount Street."
+
+"Two tickets for Mr. MacClean," said the usher, handing him the letter
+with a polite bow.
+
+"Mr. Nolan, Balls Bridge,--does any one represent Mr. Nolan of Balls
+Bridge?" said the usher, haughtily.
+
+"That 's me," said a short man, who wiped the perspiration from his face
+with a red-spotted handkerchief, as large as a small bed-quilt,--"that's
+me."
+
+"The references not satisfactory, Mr. Nolan," said the usher, reading
+from a paper in his hand.
+
+"Not satisfactory?--what do you mean? Is Peter Arkins, Esquire,
+of Clontarf, unsatisfactory? Is Mr. Ryland, of Abbey Street,
+unsatisfactory?"
+
+"I am really, sir, unable to afford you the explanation you desire. I am
+simply deputed by her Ladyship to return the reply that I find written
+here. The noise is really so great here I can hear nothing. Who are you
+asking for, Bates?"
+
+"Mr. Mortimer O'Hagan."
+
+"He's gone away," cried a voice; "he was here since eleven o'clock."
+
+"Application refused. Will some one tell Mr. O'Hagan his application is
+refused?" said the usher, austerely.
+
+"Might I be bold enough to ask what is going forward?" whispered Haire.
+
+"Mr. W. Haire, Ely Place," shouted out the man in livery. "Card refused
+for want of a reference."
+
+"You ought to have sent up two names,--well-known names, Mr. Haire,"
+said the usher, with a politeness that seemed marked. "It's not too late
+yet; let me see," and he looked at his watch, "we want a quarter to one;
+be back here in half an hour. Take a car,--you 'll find one at the door.
+Get your names, and I 'll see if I can't do it for you."
+
+"I am afraid I don't understand you, and I am sure you don't understand
+me. I came here by appointment--" The rest of the sentence was lost by a
+considerable bustle and movement that now ensued, for a number of ladies
+descended the stairs, chatting and laughing freely; while servants
+rushed hither and thither, calling up carriages, or inquiring for others
+not yet come. The usher, frantically pushing the crowd aside to clear a
+path for the ladies, was profuse of apologies for the confusion; adding
+at the same time that "it was twice as bad an hour ago. There were n't
+less than two hundred here this morning."
+
+A number of little pleasantries passed as the bland usher handed the
+ladies to their carriages; and it was evident by their laughter that his
+remarks were deemed pungent and witty. Meanwhile the hall was becoming
+deserted. The persons who had crowded there, descending singly or in
+groups, went their several ways, leaving Haire the only one behind. "And
+now, sir," said the usher, "you see it's all over. You would n't take my
+advice. They are all gone, and it's the last meeting."
+
+"Will you favor me so far as to say for what did they meet? What was the
+object of the gathering?"
+
+"I suppose, sir, you are not a reader of the morning papers?"
+
+"Occasionally. Indeed, I always glance at them."
+
+"Well, sir, and has not your glance fallen upon the announcement of the
+ball,--the grand ball to be given at the-Rotundo for the orphan asylum
+called the 'Rogues Redemptory,' at Rathmines, at the head of whose
+patronesses stands my Lady's name?"
+
+Haire shook his head in negative.
+
+"And have you not come like the rest with an application for permission
+to attend the ball?"
+
+"No; I have come to speak to Lady Lendrick--and by appointment too."
+
+A faint but prolonged "Indeed!" expressed the usher's-astonishment,
+and he turned and whispered a few words to-a footman at his side. He
+disappeared, and returned in & moment to say that her Ladyship would see
+Mr. Haire.
+
+"I trust you will forgive me, sir," said Lady Lendrick,--a very large,
+very showy, and still handsome woman,--as she motioned him to be seated.
+"I got your card when my head was so full of this tiresome ball, and I
+made the absurd mistake of supposing you came for tickets. You are, I
+think your note says, an old friend of Mr. Thomas-Lendrick?"
+
+"I am an old friend of his father's. Madam! The Chief Baron and myself
+were schoolfellows."
+
+"Yes, yes: I have no doubt," said she, hurriedly; "but from your note--I
+have it here somewhere," and she rummaged amongst a lot of papers that
+littered the table,--"your note gave me to understand that your visit
+to me regarded Mr. Thomas Lendrick, and not the Chief Baron. It is
+possible, however, I may have mistaken your meaning. I wish I could find
+it. I laid it out of my hand a moment ago. Oh, here it is! now we shall
+see which of us is right," and with a sort of triumph she opened the
+letter and read aloud, slurring over the few commencing lines till she
+came to "that I may explain to your Ladyship the circumstances by
+which Mr. Thomas Lendrick's home will for the present be broken up,
+and entreat of you to extend to his daughter the same kind interest and
+favor you have so constantly extended to her father." "Now, sir, I hope
+I may say that it is not _I_ have been mistaken. If I read this passage
+aright, it bespeaks my consideration for a young lady who will shortly
+need a home and a protectress."
+
+"I suppose I expressed myself very ill. I mean, Madam, I take it, that
+in my endeavor not to employ any abruptness, I may have fallen into
+some obscurity. Shall I own, besides," added he, with a tone of
+half-desperation in his voice, "that I had no fancy for this mission
+of mine at all,--that I undertook it wholly against my will?
+Baron Len-drick's broken health, my old friendship for him, his
+insistence,--and you can understand what _that_ is, eh?"--he thought she
+was about to speak; but she only gave a faint equivocal sort of smile,
+and he went on: "All these together overcame my scruples, and I agreed
+to come." He paused here as though he had made the fullest and most
+ample explanation, and that it was now her turn to speak.
+
+"Well, sir," said she, "go on; I am all ears for your communication."
+
+"There it is: that 's the whole of it, Madam. You are to understand
+distinctly that with the arrangement itself I had no concern whatever.
+Baron Lendrick never asked my advice; I never tendered it. I 'm not sure
+that I should have concurred with his notions,--but that 's nothing to
+the purpose; all that I consented to was to come here, to tell you
+the thing is so, and why it is so--there!" and with this he wiped his
+forehead, for the exertion had heated and fatigued him.
+
+"I know I 'm very dull, very slow of comprehension; and in compassion
+for this defect, will you kindly make your explanation a little, a very
+little, fuller? What is it that is _so?_" and she emphasized the last
+word with a marked sarcasm in her tone.
+
+"Oh, I can see that your Ladyship may not quite like it. There is no
+reason why you should like it,--all things considered; but, after all,
+it may turn out very well. If she suit him, if she can hit it off with
+his temper,--and she may,--young folks have often more forbearance than
+older ones,--there 's no saying what it may lead to."
+
+"Once for all, sir," said she, haughtily, for her temper was sorely
+tried, "what is this thing which I am not to like, and yet bound to
+bear?"
+
+"I don't think I said that; I trust I never said your Ladyship was bound
+to bear anything. So well as I can recall the Chief Baron's words,--and,
+God forgive me, but I wish I was--no matter what or where--when I heard
+them,--this is the substance of what he said: 'Tell her,' meaning
+your Ladyship,--'tell her that, rightly understood, the presence of my
+granddaughter as mistress of my house--'"
+
+"What do you say, sir?--is Miss Lendrick coming to reside at the
+Priory?"
+
+"Of course--what else have I been saying this half-hour?"
+
+"To take the position of lady of the house?" said she, not deigning to
+notice his question.
+
+"Just so, Madam."
+
+"I declare, sir, bold as the step is,"--she arose as she spoke, and drew
+herself haughtily up,--"bold as the step is, it is not half so bold as
+your own courage in coming to tell of it. What the Chief Baron had not
+the hardihood to communicate in writing, you dare to deliver to me by
+word of mouth,--you dare to announce to me that my place, the station
+I ought to fill, is to be occupied by another, and that whenever I pass
+the threshold of the Priory, I come as the guest of Lucy Lendrick! I
+do hope, sir, I may attribute to the confusion of your faculties--a
+confusion of which this short interview has given me proof--that you
+really never rightly apprehended the ignominy of the mission your friend
+intrusted to you."
+
+"You 're right there," said he, placing both his hands on the side of
+his head; "confusion is just the name for it."
+
+"Yes, sir; but I apprehend you must have undertaken this office in a
+calm moment, and let me ask you how you could have lent yourself to
+such a task? You are aware, for the whole world is aware, that in living
+apart from the Chief Baron I am yielding to a necessity imposed by his
+horrible, his insufferable temper; now, how long will this explanation
+be valid, if my place in any respect should be occupied by another? The
+isolation in which he now lives, his estrangement from the world, serve
+to show that he has withdrawn from society, and accepted the position of
+a recluse. Will this continue now? Will these be the habits of the
+house with a young lady at its bead, free to indulge all the caprices of
+ignorant girlhood? I declare, sir, I wonder how a little consideration
+for your friend might not have led you to warn him against the
+indiscretion he was about to commit. The slight to me," said she,
+sarcastically, and flushing deeply, "it was possible you might overlook;
+but I scarcely see how you could have forgotten the stain that must
+attach to that 'large intellect,--that wise and truly great man.' I
+am quoting a paragraph I read in the 'Post' this morning, with which,
+perhaps, you are familiar."
+
+"I did not see it," said Haire, helplessly.
+
+"I declare, sir, I was unjust enough to think you wrote it. I thought no
+one short of him who had come on your errand to-day could have been the
+author."
+
+"Well, I wish with all my heart I 'd never come," said he, with a
+melancholy gesture of his hands.
+
+"I declare, sir, I am not surprised at your confession. I suppose you
+are not aware that in the very moment adopted for this--this--this new
+establishment, there is something like studied insult to me. It is only
+ten days ago I mentioned to the Chief Baron that my son, Colonel Sewell,
+was coming back from India on a sick-leave. He has a wife and three
+little children, and, like most soldiers, is not over-well off. I
+suggested that as the Priory was a large roomy house, with abundant
+space for many people without in the slightest degree interfering with
+each other, he should offer the Sewells to take them in. I said nothing
+more,--nothing about _m�nage_,--no details of any kind. I simply said:
+"Could n't you give the Sewells the rooms that look out on the back
+lawn? Nobody ever enters them; even when you receive in the summer
+evenings, they are not opened. It would be a great boon to an invalid to
+be housed so quietly, so removed from all noise and bustle.' And to mark
+how I intended no more, I added, 'They would n't bore you, nor need you
+ever see them unless you wished for it.' And what was his reply? 'Madam,
+I never liked soldiers. I 'm not sure that his young wife would n't be
+displeasing to me, and I know that his children would be insufferable.'
+
+"I said, 'Let me take the dear children, then.' 'Do, by all means, and
+their dear parents also,' he broke in. 'I should be in despair if I
+thought I had separated you.' Yes, sir, I give you his very words. This
+wise and truly great man, or truly wise and great--which is it?--had
+nothing more generous nor more courteous to say to me than a sarcasm and
+an impertinence. Are you not proud of your friend?"
+
+Never was there a more unlucky peroration, from the day when Lord Denman
+concluded an eloquent defence of a queen's innocence by appealing to
+the unhappy illustration which called forth the touching words, "Let him
+that is without sin cast the first stone at her." Never was there a more
+signal blunder than to ask this man to repudiate the friendship which
+had formed the whole pride and glory of his life.
+
+"I should think I _am_ proud of him, Madam," said he, rising, and
+speaking with a boldness that amazed even himself. "I was proud to be
+his class-fellow at school; I was proud to sit in the same division with
+him in college,--proud when he won his gold medal and carried off his
+fellowship. It was a proud day to me when I saw him take his seat on
+the bench; and my heart nearly burst with pride when he placed me on
+his right hand at dinner, and told the Benchers and the Bar that we
+had walked the road of life together, and that the grasp of my hand--he
+called it my honest hand--had been the ever-present earnest of each
+success he had achieved in his career. Yes, Madam, I am very proud of
+him; and my heart must be cold indeed before I cease to be proud of
+him."
+
+"I declare, sir, you astonish, you amaze me. I was well aware how that
+truly great and wise man had often inspired the eloquence of attack.
+Many have assailed--many have vituperated him; but that any one
+should have delivered a panegyric on the inestimable value of his
+friendship!--his friendship, of all things!--is what I was not prepared
+for."
+
+Haire heard the ringing raillery of her laugh; he was stung by he knew
+not what tortures of her scornful impertinence; bitter, biting words,
+very cruel words, too, fell over and around him like a sort of hail;
+they beat on his face and rattled over his head and shoulders. He was
+conscious of a storm, and conscious too that he sought neither shelter
+nor defence, but only tried to fly before the hurricane, whither he knew
+not.
+
+How he quitted that room, descended the stairs, and escaped from the
+house, he never was able to recall. He was far away outside the city
+wandering along through an unfrequented suburb ere he came to his full
+consciousness, murmuring to himself ever as he went, "What a woman, what
+a woman! what a temper,--ay, and what a tongue!" Without any guidance of
+his own--without any consciousness of it--he walked on and on, till
+he found himself at the gate-lodge of the Priory; a carriage was just
+passing in, and he stopped to ask whose it was. It was the Chief Baron's
+granddaughter who had arrived that morning by train. He turned back when
+he heard this, and returned to town. "Whether you like it or not, Lady
+Lendrick, it is done now, and there 's no good in carrying on the issue
+after the verdict." And with this reflection, embodying possibly as
+much wisdom as his whole career had taught him, he hastened homeward,
+secretly determining, if he possibly could, never to reveal anything to
+the Chief Baron of his late interview with Lady Lendrick.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. SORROWS AND PROJECTS
+
+Dr. Lendrick and his son still lingered at the Swan's Nest after Lucy's
+departure for the Priory. Lendrick, with many things to arrange and
+prepare for his coming voyage, was still so overcome by the thought of
+breaking up his home and parting from his children, that he could not
+address his mind to anything like business. He would wander about for
+hours through the garden and the shrubberies, taking leave, as he
+called it, of his dear plants and flowers, and come back to the house
+distressed and miserable. Often and often would he declare to Sir Brook,
+who was his guest, that the struggle was too much for him. "I never
+was a man of ardor or energy, and it is not now, when I have passed the
+middle term of life, that I am to hope for that spring and elasticity
+which were denied to my youth. Better for me send for Lucy, and stay
+where I am; nowhere shall I be so happy again." Then would come the
+sudden thought that all this was mere selfishness, that in this life of
+inaction and indolence he was making no provision for that dear girl be
+loved so well. Whatever hopes the reconciliation with his father might
+lead to, would of course be utterly scattered to the winds by an act
+so full of disobedience as this. "It is true," thought he, "I may fail
+abroad as I have failed at home. Success and I are scarcely on speaking
+terms,--but the grandfather cannot leave the granddaughter whom he has
+taken from her home, totally uncared and unprovided for."
+
+As for young Tom, Sir Brook had pledged himself to-take care of him. It
+was a vague expression enough; it might mean anything, everything, or
+nothing. Sir Brook Fossbrooke had certainly, in worldly parlance, not
+taken very good care of himself,--far from it; he had squandered and
+made away with two large estates and an immense sum in ready money. It
+was true he had friends everywhere,--some of them very great people
+with abundant influence, and well able to help those they cared for; but
+Fossbrooke was not one of those who ask; and the world has not yet come
+to the millennial beatitude in which one's friends importune them with
+inquiries how they are to be helped, what and where they wish for.
+
+Many a time in the course of country-house life--at breakfast, as
+the post came in, and during the day, as a messenger would deliver a
+telegram--some great man would say, "There is a vacancy there--such
+a one has died--so-and-so has retired. There's a thing to suit you,
+Fossbrooke,"--and Sir Brook would smile, say a word or two that implied
+nothing, and so would end the matter. If "my Lord" ever retained any
+memory of the circumstance some time after, it would be that he had
+offered something to Fossbrooke, who would n't take it, did n't care for
+it. For so is it throughout life; the event which to one is the veriest
+trifle of the hour, is to another a fate and a fortune; and then, great
+folk who lead lives of ease and security are very prone to forget that
+humble men have often a pride very disproportioned to their condition,
+and are timidly averse to stretch out the hand for what it is just
+possible it may not be intended they should touch.
+
+At all events, Fossbrooke went his way through the world a mystery to
+many and a puzzle,--some averring that it was a shame to his friends in
+power that he had "got nothing," others as stoutly declaring that he was
+one whom no office would tempt, nor would any place requite him for the
+loss of liberty and independence.
+
+He himself was well aware of each of these theories, but too proud to
+say a word to those who professed either of them. If, however, he was
+too haughty to ask for himself, he was by no means above being a suitor
+for his friends; and many a one owed to his active solicitude the
+advancement which none stood more in need of than himself.
+
+"We shall make the Viceroy do something for us, Tom," he would say.
+"Think over what it shall be,--for that's the invariable question, What
+is it you want? And it's better far to say, Make me an archbishop, than
+have to own that you want anything, and are, maybe, fit for nothing."
+
+Though Lendrick was well disposed towards Fossbrooke, and fully sensible
+of his manly honesty and frankness, he could not help seeing that he
+was one of those impulsive sanguine natures that gain nothing from
+experience beyond the gift of companionship. They acquire all that can
+make them delightful in society,--boons they are,--and especially to
+those whose more prudent temperament inclines them to employ their gifts
+more profitably. Scores of these self-made men, rich to overflowing with
+all that wealth could buy around them, would say, What a happy fellow
+was Fossbrooke! what a blessing it was to have his nature, his spirits,
+buoyancy, and such-like,--to be able to enjoy life as he did! Perhaps
+they believed all that they said too,--who knows? When they made such
+speeches to himself, as they would at times, he heard them with the
+haughty humility of one who hears himself praised for that which the
+flatterer deems a thing too low for envy. He well understood how cheaply
+others estimated his wares, for they were a scrip that figured in no
+share-list, and never were quoted at a premium.
+
+Lendrick read him very correctly, and naturally thought that a more
+practical and a more worldly guide would have been better for Tom,--some
+one to hold him back, not to urge him forward; some one to whisper
+prudence, restraint, denial,--not daring, and dash, and indulgence. But
+somehow these flighty, imaginative, speculative men have very often a
+wonderful persuasiveness about them, and can give to the wildest dreams
+a marvellous air of substance and reality. A life so full of strange
+vicissitudes as Fossbrooke's seemed a guarantee for any--no matter
+what--turn of fortune. Hear him tell of where he had been, what he had
+done, and with whom, and you at once felt you were in presence of one to
+whom no ordinary laws of worldly caution or prudence applied.
+
+That his life had compassed many failures and few successes was plain
+enough. He never sought to hide the fact.
+
+Indeed, he was candor itself in his confessions, only that he
+accompanied them by little explanations, showing the exact spot and
+moment in which he had lost the game. It was wonderful what credit he
+seemed to derive from these disclosures. It was like an honest trader
+showing his balance-sheet to prove that, but for the occurrence of such
+ills as no prudence could ward off, his condition must have been one of
+prosperity.
+
+Never did he say anything more truthful than that "he had never cared
+for money." So long as he had it he used it lavishly, thoughtlessly,
+very often generously. When he ceased to have it, the want scarcely
+appeared to touch him personally. Indeed, it was only when some
+necessity presented itself to aid this one or extricate that, he would
+suddenly remember his impotence to be of use, and then the sting of his
+poverty would sorely pain him.
+
+Like all men who have suffered reverses, he had to experience the
+different acceptance he met with in his days of humble fortune from what
+greeted him in his era of prosperity. If he felt this, none could detect
+it. His bearing and manner betrayed nothing of such consciousness. A
+very slight increase of stateliness might possibly have marked him in
+his poverty, and an air of more reserved dignity, which showed itself in
+his manner to strangers. In all other respects he was the same.
+
+That such a character should have exercised a great influence over
+a young man like Tom Lendrick--ardent, impetuous, and desirous of
+adventure--was not strange.
+
+"We must make a fortune for Lucy, Tom," said Sir Brook. "Your father's
+nature is too fine strung to be a money-maker, and she must be cared
+for." This was a desire which he continued to utter day after day; and
+though Fossbrooke usually smoked on after he had said it without any
+intimation as to where and when and how this same fortune was to be
+amassed, Tom Lendrick placed the most implicit faith in the assurance
+that it would be done "somehow."
+
+One morning as Lendrick was walking with his son in the garden, making,
+as he called it, his farewell visit to his tulips and moss-roses, he
+asked Tom if any fixed plan had been decided on as to his future.
+
+"We have got several, sir. The difficulty is the choice. Sir Brook was
+at one time very full of buying a great tract in Donegal, and stocking
+it with all sorts of wild animals. We began with deer, antelopes, and
+chamois; and last night we got to wolves, bears, and a tiger. We were
+to have a most commodious shooting-box, and invite parties to come and
+sport, who, instead of going to Bohemia, the Rocky Mountains, and to
+Africa, would find all their savagery near home, and pay us splendidly
+for the privilege.
+
+"There are some difficulties in the plan, it is true; our beasts might
+not be easy to keep within bounds. The jaguar might make an excursion
+into the market-town; the bear might eat a butcher. Sir Brook, besides,
+doubts if _fero_ could be preserved under the game laws. He has sent a
+case to Brewster for his opinion."
+
+"Don't tell me of such absurdities," said Lendrick, trying to repress
+his quiet laugh. "I want you to speak seriously and reasonably."
+
+"I assure you, sir, we have the whole details of this on paper, even to
+the cost of the beasts, and the pensions to the widows of the keepers
+that may be devoured. Another plan that we had, and it looked plausible
+enough too, was to take out a patent for a wonderful medical antidote.
+As Sir Brook says, there is nothing like a patent medicine to make a man
+rich; and by good luck he is possessed of the materials for one. He
+has the secret for curing the bite of the rattlesnake. He got it from
+a Tuscarora Indian, who, I believe, was a sort of father-in-law to him.
+Three applications of this to the wound have never been known to fail."
+
+"But we are not infested with rattlesnakes, Tom."
+
+"That's true, sir. We thought of that, and decided that we should alter
+the prospectus of our company, and we have called it 'The antidote to an
+evil of stupendous magnitude and daily recurrence.
+
+"A new method of flotation in water, by inflating the cellular membrane
+to produce buoyancy; a translation of the historical plays of Shakspeare
+into Tonga, for the interesting inhabitants of those islands; artificial
+rainfall by means of the voltaic battery: these are a few of his
+jottings down in a little book in manuscript he has entitled 'Things to
+be Done.'
+
+"His favorite project, however, is one he has revolved for years in his
+mind, and he is fully satisfied that it contains the germ of boundless
+wealth. It has been shown, he says, that in the smoke issuing from the
+chimneys of great smelt-ing-furnaces, particles of subtilized metal are
+carried away to the amount of thousands of pounds sterling: not merely
+is the quantity great, but the quality, as might be inferred, is of the
+most valuable and precious kind. To arrest and precipitate this waste is
+his project, and he has been for years making experiments to this end.
+He has at length, he believes, arrived at the long-sought-for problem;
+and as he possesses a lead-mine in the island of Sardinia, he means that
+we should set out there, and at once begin operations."
+
+Dr. Lendrick shook his head gravely as he listeued; indeed, Tom's manner
+in detailing Sir Brook's projects was little calculated to inspire
+serious confidence.
+
+"I know, father," cried he, "what you mean. I know well how wild
+and flighty these things appear; but if you had only heard them from
+him,--had you but listened to his voice, and heard him speak of his
+own doubts and fears,--how he canvasses, not merely the value of his
+project, but what the world will say of it and of him,--how modestly he
+rates himself,--how free of all the cant of the discoverer he is,--how
+simply he enters into explanations,--how free to own the difficulties
+that bar success,--I say, if you had experienced these, I feel sure
+you would not escape from him without catching some of that malady of
+speculation which has so long beset him. Nor is one less disposed to
+trust him that he makes no parade of these things. Indeed, they are his
+deepest, most inviolable secrets. In his intercourse with the world no
+one has ever heard him allude to one of these projects, and I have given
+him my solemn pledge not to speak of them, save to you."
+
+"It is a reason to think better of the man, Tom, but not to put more
+faith in the discoveries."
+
+"I believe I take the man and his work together; at all events, when I
+am along with him, and listening to him, he carries me away captive, and
+I am ready to embark in any enterprise he suggests. Here he comes, with
+two letters, I see, in his hand. Did you ever see a man less like a
+visionary, father? Is not every trait of his marked with thought and
+struggle?" This was not the way Tom's father read Fossbrooke, but there
+was no time to discuss the point further.
+
+"A letter for each of you," said Sir Brook, handing them; and then
+taking out a cigar, he strolled down an alley, while they were engaged
+in reading.
+
+"We have got a tenant at last," said Lendrick. "The Dublin house-agent
+has found some one who will take the place as it stands; and now, to
+think of my voyage."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY.
+
+It was well for poor Lendrick that he was not to witness the great
+change which, in a few short weeks, had been effected in his once home.
+So complete, indeed, was the transformation, there was but very little
+left beyond the natural outline of the scenery to remind one of that
+lovely nook in which the tasteful cottage nestled. The conservatory had
+been converted into a dining-room; the former dinner-room being fitted
+up for a billiard-room. The Swiss cowhouse, a pretty little conceit, on
+which Lendrick had lavished some money and more time, was turned into
+a stable, with three loose boxes; and the neat lawn, whose velvet sward
+was scarce less beautiful than the glittering flower-beds that studded
+it, was ruthlessly cut up into a racecourse, with hurdles and fences and
+double ditches, to represent a stiff country, and offer all the features
+of a steeple-chase.
+
+It needed not the assurance of Mr. Kimball, the house-agent, to proclaim
+that his client was very unlike the last occupant of the place. "_He_
+was no recluse, no wretched misanthropist, hiding his discontent amongst
+shrubs and forcing-beds; he was a man of taste and refinement, with
+knowledge of life and its requirements. He would be an acquisition to
+any neighborhood."
+
+Now, the last phrase--and he invariably made it his peroration--has a
+very wide and sweeping acceptation. It appeals to the neighborhood with
+all the charms that pertain to social intercourse; a guest the more and
+a host the more are no small claims in small places. It appeals to the
+parson, as another fountain from which to draw draughts of benevolence.
+To the doctor it whispers fees and familiar dinners. Galen knows that
+the luckiest of men are not exempt from human ills, and that gout comes
+as a frequent guest where the cook is good and the wine tempting;
+and the butcher himself revels in the thought of a "good family" that
+consumes sirloins and forestalls sweetbreads.
+
+It was somewhat trying to young Tom Lendrick, who had gone down to the
+Nest to fetch away some remnants of fishing-tackle he had left there, to
+hear these glowing anticipations of the new-comer, so evidently placed
+in contrast with the quiet and inexpensive life his father had led. How
+unlike were his father and this "acquisition to any neighborhood,"
+was impressed upon him at any moment! How could a life of unobtrusive
+kindness, of those daily ministerings to poor men's wants, compete with
+the glitter and display which were to adorn a neighborhood?
+
+Already were people beginning to talk of Lendrick as odd, eccentric,
+peculiar; to set down his finest qualities as strange traits of a
+strange temperament, and rather, on the whole, to give themselves credit
+for the patience and forbearance which they had shown to one who, after
+all, was "simply an egotist."
+
+Yes, such are not unfrequent judgments in this same world of ours; and
+if you would have men's suffrages for the good you do, take care that
+you do it conventionally. Be in all things like those around you; and if
+there be a great man in your vicinity, whenever a doubt arises in your
+mind as to any course of action, do as you may imagine he might do.
+
+Young Lendrick came away not a little disgusted with this taste of human
+fickleness. The sight of their old home changed even to desecration was
+bad enough, but this cold ingratitude was worse.
+
+Had he gone into the cabins of the poor, had he visited the humble
+dwellings where his father's generous devotion had brought him face
+to face with famine and fever, he would have heard much to redress the
+balance of these opinions. He would have heard those warm praises
+that come from sorrow-stricken hearts, the wail of the friendless and
+forlorn. Tom heard not these, and he returned to town with a feeling of
+anger and resentment against the world he had never known before.
+
+"How absurd it is in old Fossbrooke," thought he, "to go on saying money
+cannot do this, that, and t'other! Why, it can do everything. It does
+not alone make a man great, powerful, and influential, but it gains him
+the praise of being good and kind and generous. Look at my poor father,
+who never had a thought but for others, who postponed himself to all
+around him; and yet here is some one, whose very name is unknown, more
+eagerly looked for, more ardently desired, than would he be were it to
+be announced to-morrow he was coming back to live amongst them. What
+nonsense it is to say that the world cares for any qualities save those
+it can utilize; and I am only amazed how a man could have seen so much
+of life as Sir Brook and gained so little by his experience."
+
+It was in this mood he got back to the little lodging in a humble suburb
+called Cullen's Wood, where Sir Brook awaited him. It is not impossible
+that the disparities of temperament in this world are just as
+beneficial, just as grateful, as are the boundless variety and change we
+find in nature. To Tom Lendrick's depression, almost disgust with life,
+Sir Brook brought that bright, hopeful, happy spirit which knew how to
+throw sunlight on every path to be travelled.
+
+He had received good news, or what he thought was good news, from
+Sardinia. A new vein of ore had been struck,--very "fat" ore they called
+it,--some eighty-odd per cent, and a fair promise of silver in it. "They
+ask me for thirty thousand francs, though, Tom," said he, with a smile;
+"they might as well have written 'pounds' when they were about it. They
+want to repair the engine and erect a new crane. They say, too, the
+chains are worn and unsafe,--a thing to be looked to, or we shall have
+some accidents. In fact, they need fully double what they ask for; and
+seeing how impossible was the performance, I am astonished at their
+modesty."
+
+"And what do you mean to do, sir?" asked Tom, bluntly.
+
+"I have been thinking of two courses: my first thought was to make a
+formal conveyance of the mine to you and your sister, for your joint use
+and benefit. This done, and I standing aloof from all possible interest
+in it, I bethought me of a loan to be raised on the security of the
+property,--not publicly, not generally, but amongst your father's
+friends and well-wishers,--beginning with the neighborhood where he has
+lived so long, and around which he has sowed the seeds of such benefits
+as needs must ripen in gratitude."
+
+"Indulge no delusions on that score, sir. There is not a man in the
+county, except old Mills the vicar, perhaps, has a good word for us; and
+as to going to one of them for assistance, I 'd rather sweep a
+crossing. You shake your head, Sir Brook, and you smile at my passionate
+denunciation; but it is true, every word of it. I heard, in the
+few hours I spent there, scores of stories of my poor father's
+eccentricity,--his forgetfulness, his absence, and what not,--but
+never a syllable of his noble liberality, his self-sacrifice, or his
+gentleness."
+
+"My dear Tom," said the old man, solemnly, "when you have lived to
+one-half my age, you will discover that the world is not so much cursed
+with ill-nature as with levity, and that when men talk disparagingly of
+their fellows, they do so rather to seem witty than to be just. There
+was not, perhaps, one of those who tried to raise a laugh at your
+father's oddities, or who assumed to be droll at his expense, who would
+not in a serious mood have conceded to him every good and great trait
+of his nature. The first step in worldly knowledge is to rise above all
+consideration of light gossip. Take my word for it, we often confirm men
+in wrong thinking by opposition, who, if left to themselves and their
+own hearts, would review their judgments, and even retract them."
+
+Tom took a hasty turn up and down the room; a ready reply was on his
+lip; indeed, it was with difficulty he repressed it, but he did so, and
+stood in seeming acquiescence to what he had heard. At last he said,
+"And the other plan, Sir Brook,--what was that?"
+
+"Perhaps a more likely one, Tom," said the old man, cheerfully. "It was
+to apply directly to your grandfather, a man whose great intelligence
+would enable him to examine a project with whose details he had not ever
+before versed himself, and ask whether he would not make the advance we
+require on mortgage or otherwise."
+
+"I don't think I 'd like to ask him," said Tom, with a grim smile.
+
+"The proposal could come from me," said Sir Brook, proudly, "if he would
+graciously accord me an interview."
+
+Tom turned away to hide a smile, for he thought, if such a meeting were
+to take place, what he would give to be an unseen witness of it,--to
+watch the duel between antagonists so different, and whose weapons were
+so unlike.
+
+"My sister knows him better than any of us," said Tom, at last; "might I
+consult her as to the likelihood of any success with him?"
+
+"By all means; it is what I would have myself advised."
+
+"I will do so, then, to-day. I ought to have gone to see her yesterday;
+but I will go to-day, and report progress when I come back. I have a
+long budget for her," added he, with a sigh,--"a catalogue of all the
+things I am not going to do. I am not going to be a medallist, nor win
+a fellowship, nor even be a doctor; it will, however, give me great
+courage if I can say, I 'll be a miner."
+
+Tom Lendrick was right when he said he should have gone to see his
+sister on the day before, though he was not fully aware how right. The
+Chief Baron, in laying down a few rules for Lucy's guidance, made a
+point of insisting that she should only receive visitors on one day of
+the week; and in this regulation he included even her brother. So averse
+was the old man to be exposed to even a passing meeting with strangers,
+that on these Tuesdays he either kept his room or retired to a little
+garden of which he kept the key, and from whose precincts all were
+rigorously excluded.
+
+Well knowing her brother's impatience of anything like restricted
+liberty, and how rapidly he would connect such an injunction as this
+with a life of servitude and endurance, Lucy took care to make the time
+of receiving him appear a matter of her own choice and convenience, and
+at the time of parting would say, "Good-bye till Tuesday, Tom; don't
+forget Tuesday, for we shall be sure to be alone and to ourselves." He
+the more easily believed this, that on these same Tuesdays the whole
+place seemed deserted and desolate. The grave-looking man in black, who
+preceded him up the stairs, ushered him along the corridor, and finally
+announced him, awaited him like a piece of machinery, repeating every
+movement and gesture with an unbroken uniformity, and giving him to
+understand that not only his coming was expected, but all the details of
+his reception had been carefully prescribed and determined on.
+
+"As I follow that fellow along the passage, Lucy," said Tom, one day, "I
+can't help thinking that I experience every sensation of a man going to
+be hanged,--his solemn face, his measured tread, the silence, and the
+gloom,--only needing pinioned arms to make the illusion perfect."
+
+"Tie them around me, dearest Tom," said she, laughing, and drawing him
+to a seat beside her on the sofa; "and remember," added she, "you have
+a long day. Your sentence will not come off for another week;" and thus
+jestingly did she contrive to time his coming without ever letting him
+know the restrictions that defined his visits.
+
+Now, the day before this conversation between Sir Brook and Tom took
+place being a Tuesday, Lucy had watched long and anxiously for his
+coming. She knew he had gone down to Killaloe on the preceding Saturday,
+but he had assured her he would be back and be with her by Tuesday.
+Lucy's life was far from unhappy, but it was one of unbroken uniformity,
+and the one sole glimpse of society was that meeting with her brother,
+whose wayward thoughts and capricious notions imparted to all he said
+a something striking and amusing. He usually told her how his week had
+been passed,--where he had been and with whom,--and she had learned to
+know his companions, and ask after them by name. Her chief interest was,
+however, about Sir Brook, from whom Tom usually brought a few lines,
+but always in an unsealed envelope, inscribed, "By the favor of Mr.
+Lendrick, jun."
+
+How often would Tom quiz her about the respectful devotion of her old
+admirer, and jestingly ask her if she could consent to marry him. "I
+know he'll ask you the question one of these days, Lucy, and it's your
+own fault if you give him such encouragement as may mislead him." And
+then they would talk over the romance of the old man's nature, wondering
+whether the real world would be rendered more tolerable or the reverse
+by that ideal tone which so imaginative a temperament could give it "Is
+it not strange," said Tom, one day, "that I can see all the weakness of
+his character wherever my own interests do not come, but the moment he
+presents before me some bright picture of a splendid future, a great
+name to achieve, a great fortune to make, that moment he takes me
+captive, and I regard him not as a visionary or a dreamer, but as a man
+of consummate shrewdness and great knowledge of life?"
+
+"In this you resemble Sancho Panza, Tom," said she, laughing. "He had
+little faith in his master's chivalry, but he implicitly believed in the
+island he was to rule over;" and from that day forward she called her
+brother Sancho and Sir Brook the Don.
+
+On the day after that on which Tom's visit should have been but was
+not paid, Lucy sat at luncheon with her grandfather in a small
+breakfast-room which opened on the lawn. The old Judge was in unusual
+spirits; he had just received an address from the Bar, congratulating
+him on his recovery, and expressing hope that he might be soon again
+seen on that Bench he had so much ornamented by his eloquence and his
+wisdom. The newspapers, too, with a fickleness that seems their most
+invariable feature, spoke most flatteringly of his services, and placed
+his name beside those who had conferred highest honor on the judgeship.
+
+"It is neatly worded, Lucy," said the old man, taking up the paper on
+which the address was written; "and the passage that compares me with
+Mansfield is able as well as true. Both Mansfield and myself understood
+how there stands above all written law that higher, greater, grander
+law, that is based in the heart of all humanity, in the hope of an
+eternal justice, and soars above every technicality, by the intense
+desire of truth. It would have been, however, no more than fair to have
+added that, to an intellect the equal of Mansfield, I brought a temper
+which Mansfield had not, and a manner which if found in the courts
+of royalty, is seldom met with on the Bench. I do not quite like
+that phrase, 'the rapid and unerring glance of Erskine.' Erskine was
+brilliant for a Scotchman, but a brilliant Scotchman is but a third-rate
+Irishman. They who penned this might have known as much. I am better
+pleased with the words, 'the noble dignity of Lord Eldon.' There, my
+child, there, they indeed have hit upon a characteristic. In Eldon
+nature seemed to have created the judicial element in a high degree. It
+would be the vulgarity of modesty to pretend not to recognize in my own
+temperament a like organization.
+
+"May I read you, Lucy, the few words in which I mean to reply to this
+courteous address? Will it bore you, my dear?"
+
+"On the contrary, sir, I shall feel myself honored as well as
+interested."
+
+"Sit where you are, then, and I will retire to the far corner of the
+room. You shall judge if my voice and delivery be equal to the effort;
+for I mean to return my thanks in person, Lucy. I mean to add the force
+of my presence to the vigor of my sentiments. I have bethought me of
+inviting those who have signed this document to luncheon here; and it
+may probably be in the large drawing-room that I shall deliver this
+reply. If not, it may possibly be in my court before rising,--I have not
+fully determined." So saying, he arose, and with feeble steps--assisting
+himself, as he went, by the table, and then grasping a chair--he moved
+slowly across the room. She knew him too well to dare to offer her arm,
+or appear in any way to perceive his debility. That he felt, and felt
+bitterly, "the curse of old age," as he once profanely called it, might
+be marked in the firm compression of his lips and the stern frown that
+settled on him, while, as he sank into a seat, a sad weary sigh declared
+the utter exhaustion that overcame him.
+
+It was not till after some minutes that he rallied sufficiently to
+unroll his manuscript and adjust his spectacles. The stillness in the
+room was now perfect; not a sound was heard save the faint hum of a bee
+which had strayed into the room, and was vaguely floating about to
+find an exit. Lucy sat in an attitude of patient attention,--her hands
+crossed before her, and her eyes slightly downcast.
+
+A faint low cough, and he began, but in a voice tremulous and faint,
+"'Mr. Chief Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar'--do you hear me, Lucy?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I hear you."
+
+"I will try to be more audible; I will rest for a moment." fie laid his
+paper on his knees, closed his eyes, and sat immovable for some seconds.
+
+It was at this moment, when to the intense stillness was added a sense
+of expectancy, the honeysuckle that grew across the window moved, the
+frail branches gave way, and a merry voice called out, "Scene the first:
+a young lady discovered at luncheon!" and with a spring Tom Lendrick
+bounced into the room, and, ere her cry of alarm had ended, was clasping
+his sister in his arms.
+
+"Oh, Tom, dearest Tom, why to-day? Grandpapa--grandpapa is here," sighed
+she, rather than whispered, in his ear.
+
+The young man started back, more struck by the emotion he had shown than
+by her words, and the Chief Baron advanced towards him with a manner
+of blended courtesy and dignity, saying, "I am glad to know you. Your
+sister's brother must be very welcome to me."
+
+"I wish I could make a proper excuse for this mode of entry, sir. First
+of all, I thought Lucy was alone; and, secondly--"
+
+"Never mind the second plea; I submit to a verdict on the first," said
+the Judge, smiling.
+
+"Tom forgot; it was Tuesday was his day," began Lucy.
+
+"I have no day; days are all alike to me, Lucy. My occupations of
+Monday could be transferred to a Saturday, or, if need be, postponed
+indefinitely beyond it."
+
+"The glorious leisure of the fortunate," said the Judge, with a peculiar
+smile.
+
+"Or the vacuity of the unlucky, possibly," said Tom, with an easy laugh.
+
+"At all events, young gentleman, you carry your load jauntily."
+
+"One reason is, perhaps, that I never knew it was a load. I have always
+paraded in heavy marching order, so that I don't mind the weight of my
+pack."
+
+For the first time did the old man's features relax into a look of
+kindly meaning. To find the youth not merely-equal to appreciate a
+figure of speech, but able to carry on the illustration, seemed so to
+identify him with his own blood and kindred that the old Judge felt
+himself instinctively drawn towards him.
+
+"Lucy, help your brother to something; there was an excellent curry
+there awhile ago,--if it be not cold."
+
+"I have set my affections on that cold beef. It seems tome an age since
+I have seen a real sirloin."
+
+A slight twitch crossed the Judge's face,--a pang he felt at what might
+be an insinuated reproach at his in hospitality; and he said, in a
+tone of almost apology, "We see no one---absolutely no one--here. Lucy
+resigns herself to the companionship of a very dreary old man whom all
+else have forgotten."
+
+"Don't say so, grandpapa, on the day when such a testimony of esteem and
+affection reaches you."
+
+Young Lendrick looked up from his plate, turning his eyes first towards
+his sister, then towards his grandfather; his glance was so palpably an
+interrogatory, there was no-mistaking it. Perhaps the old man's first
+impulse was not to reply; but his courtesy or his vanity, or a blending
+of both, carried the day, and he said, in a voice of much feeling: "Your
+sister refers to an address I have just received,--an address which
+the Irish Bar have deemed proper to transmit to me with their
+congratulations on my recovery. It is as gratifying, it is as
+flattering, as she says. My brethren have shown that they can rise above
+all consideration of sect or party in tendering their esteem to a man
+whom no administration has ever been able to convert into a partisan."
+
+"But you have always been a Whig, sir, haven't you?" said Tom, bluntly.
+
+"I have been a Whig, sir, in the sense that a King is a Royalist," said
+the old man, haughtily; and though Tom felt sorely provoked to reply
+to this pretentious declaration, he only gave a wicked glance at his
+sister, and drank off his wine.
+
+"It was at the moment of your unexpected appearance," continued the
+Judge, "that I was discussing with your sister whether my reply to this
+compliment would come better if delivered here, or from my place on the
+Bench."
+
+"I 'd say from the Bench," said Tom, as he helped himself to another
+slice of beef.
+
+The old man gave a short cough, with a start. The audacity of tendering
+advice so freely and positively overcame him; and his color, faint
+indeed, rose to his withered cheek, and his eye glittered as he said,
+"Might I have the benefit of hearing the reasons which have led you to
+this opinion?"
+
+"First of all," said Tom, in a careless off-hand way, "I take it the
+thing would have more--what shall I say?--dignity; secondly, the men
+who have signed the address might feel they were treated with more
+consideration; and lastly,--it 's not a very good reason, but I 'm
+bound to own it,--I 'd like to hear it myself, which I could if it were
+delivered in public, but which I am not so likely to do if spoken here."
+
+"Oh, Tom, dear Tom!" whispered his sister, in dismay at a speech so
+certain to be accepted in its least pleasing signification.
+
+"You have already to-day reminded me of my deficiencies in hospitality,
+sir. This second admonition was uncalled for. It is happy for _me_ that
+my defence is unassailable. It is happy for _you_ that your impeachment
+is unwitnessed."
+
+"You have mistaken me, sir," said Tom, eagerly. "I never thought of
+reflecting on your hospitality. I simply meant to say that as I find
+myself here to-day by a lucky accident, I scarcely look to Fortune to do
+me such another good turn in a hurry."
+
+"Your father's fault--a fault that would have shipwrecked fourfold
+more ability than ever he possessed--was a timidity that went to very
+cowardice. He had no faith in himself, and he inspired no confidence
+in others. Yours is, if possible, a worse failing. You have boldness
+without knowledge. You have the rashness that provokes a peril, and
+no part of the skill that teaches how to meet it. It was with a wise
+prescience that I saw we should not be safe company for each other."
+
+He arose as he spoke, and, motioning back Lucy as she approached to
+offer her arm, he tottered from the room, to all seeming more overcome
+by passion than even by years and infirmity.
+
+"Well!" said Tom, as he threw his napkin on the table, and pushed his
+chair back, "I 'll be shot if I know how I provoked that burst of
+anger, or to what I owe that very neat and candid appreciation of my
+character."
+
+Lucy threw her arm around his neck, and, bending over his shoulder till
+her face touched his own, said, "Oh, my dearest Tom, if you only knew
+how nervous and susceptible he is, in part from his nature, but more,
+far more, from suffering and sorrow! Left to the solitude of his own
+bitter thoughts for years, without one creature to whisper a kind word
+or a hopeful thought, is it any wonder if his heart has begun to consume
+itself?"
+
+"Devilish bitter diet it must find it! Pass me over the Madeira, Lucy.
+I mean to have my last glass to the old gentleman's health and better
+temper."
+
+"He has moments of noble generosity that would win all your love," said
+she, enthusiastically.
+
+"You have a harder lot than ever I thought it, my poor Lucy," said
+he, looking into her eyes with an affectionate solicitude. "This is so
+unlike our old home."
+
+"Oh, so unlike!" said she; and her lip quivered and her eyes grew glazy.
+
+"And can you bear it, girl? Does it not seem to you like a servitude to
+put up with such causeless passion, such capricious anger as this?"
+
+She shook her head mournfully, but made no answer.
+
+"If it be your woman's nature enables you to do it, all I can say is, I
+don't envy you your sex."
+
+"But, Tom, remember his years,--remember his age."
+
+"By Jove, he took good care to remind me of my own!--not that he was so
+far wrong in what he said of me, Lucy. I felt all the while he had 'hit
+the blot,' and I would have owned it too, if he had n't taken himself
+off so quickly."
+
+"If you had, Tom,--if you had said but one word to this purport,--you
+would have seen how nobly forgiving he could be in an instant."
+
+"Forgiving,--humph! I don't think the forgiveness was to have come from
+_him_."
+
+"Sir William wishes to speak with you, Miss Lucy," said the butler,
+entering hastily.
+
+"I must go, Tom,--good-bye. I will write to you tomorrow,--to-night, if
+I can,--good-bye, my dearest brother; be sure to come on Tuesday,--mind,
+Tuesday. You will be certain to find me alone."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE FIRST LETTER HOME.
+
+The post of the morning after the events of our last chapter brought
+Lucy a letter from her father. It was the first since his departure.
+What chapters in life are these first letters after absence! How do
+they open to us glimpses of not only new scenes and incidents, but of
+emotions and sentiments which, while we had relied upon them, we had
+never so palpably realized before! There is such ecstasy in thinking
+that time and space are no barriers against love, and that, even as we
+read, the heart that sent the message is beating with affection for us.
+
+Lendrick's letter to his daughter was full of fondness; her image had
+evidently gone with him through all the changes of the voyage, and their
+old home mingled in every thought of the new life before him. It was
+plain enough how unwillingly he turned from the past to the present, and
+how far rather he would revel in the scenes around the Shannon than turn
+to the solitary existence that awaited him beyond the seas.
+
+"I console myself, dear Lucy," wrote he, "as well as I may, by thinking
+that in my great sacrifice I have earned the love of my father,--that
+love from which I have lived so long estranged, and for which my heart
+had never ceased to yearn; and I delight to think how by this time
+you must have grown into his heart, soothed many a care for him, and
+imparted to his solitary life the blessing of that bright hopefulness
+which gave even to my own dull existence a glow of glad sunshine. Out
+of my selfishness I cannot help asking you to remind him of all I have
+given him. And now that my egotism is so fully aroused, let me tell of
+myself. The voyage was less dreary than my fears had made it. I suffered
+at first, it is true; and when at last use had inured me to the sea, I
+fell into a sort of low feverish state, more the result of homesickness,
+perhaps, than real malady. It was a condition of rather depression than
+disease. Nothing could engage, nothing interest me. I could not read,
+neither could I partake in any of the various pastimes by which my
+fellow-voyagers beguiled the hours; and I found myself in that pitiable
+state of sinking daily lower and lower, without what I could call a
+cause for the depression.
+
+"I have more than once in my experience as a doctor had to deal with
+such cases, and I own now that I have neither valued their intensity
+nor understood their importance. I did not, it is true, go to the vulgar
+extent of calling them hippishness; but I did the next worse thing,--I
+treated them as the offspring of an over-easy existence, of a placid
+frictionless life.
+
+"With much shame do I recall how often I have rallied these poor
+sufferers on the vast space that separated them from real sorrow. There
+is no unreality, dearest Lucy, in whatever so overcomes the brain that
+thought is all but madness, and so pains the heart that the whole wish
+is for death. There are subtler influences in our nature than those that
+work by the brain or the blood, and the maladies of these have but one
+physician.
+
+"It was my great good-fortune to have a fellow-traveller who took the
+kindest interest in me. If he could not cure, he certainly did much
+to console me. He was a young man, lately gazetted on the
+commander-in-chief's staff, and who came on board of us in the Downs
+from a frigate bound for England. It was the merest accident that he did
+not miss us and lose his passage.
+
+"I am not a very attractive person, and it was with some astonishment
+that I heard he desired to make my acquaintance; and on meeting he said,
+'Though you have forgotten me, Dr. Lendrick, I had the honor of being
+presented to you at Killaloe by my friend Sir Brook Fossbrooke;' and
+I then remembered all about it, and how it was his features were so
+familiar to me,--very good features, too, they were, with much candor
+and manliness in the expression,--altogether a handsome young fellow,
+and with an air of good birth about him just as distinctive as his good
+looks.
+
+"I am so unused to being singled out by a stranger as the object of
+attentions, that I never fully got over the surprise which this young
+man's attachment to me inspired; and I am not using too strong a word,
+Lucy, when I call it attachment. There might have been, at least to his
+eyes, something in our respective fortunes that suggested this drawing
+towards me. Who knows whether he too might not have parted from a loved
+home and friends!
+
+"When he first came on board, his manner was wild,--almost incoherent;
+he ran here and there, like one in search of something or of somebody,
+but whose name he had forgotten. Indeed he actually startled me by the
+eagerness with which he addressed me; and when I informed him that I was
+alone, quite alone, and as friendles as himself on board, I thought he
+would have fainted. In all this suffering and emotion I suspected that
+I found what led him to a companionship with one as sorrow-stricken as
+himself.
+
+"As it was, there was no care he did not bestow on me. My own dear boy
+himself could not have nursed me more tenderly, nor tried to rally my
+spirits with more affectionate solicitude. He read for me, played chess
+with me, he even lent himself to the sort of reading I liked best, to
+become more companionable to me, withdrawing all this while from the gay
+and pleasant society of young fellows like himself. In a word, Lucy, by
+his devotion to me, he sent through my heart a lurking thought, almost
+like a hope, that I must somehow have certain qualities for which the
+world at large had not yet credited me, which could make me of
+interest to a young, bright-natured creature, fresh to life and all its
+enjoyments; and from the self-esteem of this notion I really believe I
+drew more encouragement than from any amount of more avowed approbation.
+
+"I feel I am not wearying you, my darling Lucy, by dwelling even with
+prolixity on what beguiled the long hours of absence, the weary, weary
+days at sea.
+
+"When we landed, for a time at least, I only met him now and then;
+he had his duties, and I had mine. I had to look out for a house. My
+predecessor's family are still occupying the official residence, and
+have begged of me leave to remain there a little longer. I had my visits
+of duty or compliment to make, and a whole round of little courtesies to
+perform, for which I well know I have all your sympathy. Every one was,
+however, kind and polite; some were even friendly. Indeed, my very want
+of manner, my awkward bashfulness and deficient tact, have, I can
+see, not injured me in the esteem of those whose worldly breeding and
+knowledge have taught them to be compassionate as well as courteous.
+
+"Amongst the many persons to whom I was presented I made two
+acquaintances of more than common interest to me,--I will not go
+farther, and say of any great degree of gratification. In dining with
+the Governor, yesterday week, he said, 'You will meet a relation to-day,
+Dr. Lendrick. His ship has just put in to coal, and he and his wife dine
+with us.' Though quite persuaded the Governor was laboring under some
+mistake, I waited with anxiety as the different arrivals were announced,
+and at last came Colonel and Mrs. Sewell,--the Colonel being Lady
+Lendrick's son by her first marriage,--what relation to myself all my
+skill in genealogy is unable to pronounce.
+
+"We met, however, shook hands very cordially, and I had the honor to
+conduct Mrs. Sewell to table. I am unfortunately terribly prone to first
+impressions, and all those that I entertain regarding the Colonel
+are adverse. He is a tall, handsome man, easy in manner, and with the
+readiness in speech and address that shows familiarity with life. He
+however will never suffer your eyes to meet his, never exchange a
+frank look with you, and seems, from some cause or other, to be always
+laboring under an impatient anxiety to be somewhere else than where he
+stands at the moment.
+
+"He asked about my father, and never waited for my reply; and he
+laughingly said, with a bad taste that shocked me, 'My mother and he
+never could hit it off together.'
+
+"Mrs. Sewell interested me more than her husband. She is still very
+handsome; she must at one time have been perfectly beautiful. She is
+very gentle, low-voiced, and quiet, talking with a simplicity that even
+I can detect only covers a deep knowledge of life and the world. The
+dread of her husband seems, however, to pervade all she says or does.
+She changes color when he looks at her, and if he addresses her, she
+sometimes seems about to faint. His slightest word is accepted as a
+command; and yet with all this terror--terror it was--I caught a
+look that once passed between them that actually overwhelmed me
+with amazement. It was the very look that two accomplices might have
+interchanged in a moment when they could not communicate more freely.
+Don't think that there is any exaggeration in this, Lucy, or that I
+am assuming to possess a finer insight into human motives than my
+neighbors; but my old craft as a doctor supplies me with a technical
+skill that no acquaintance with the mere surface-life of the world could
+have given; for the _Medico_ reads mankind by a stronger and steadier
+light than ever shone out of conventionalities or social usages.
+
+"'We are on our way to England, to Ireland, perhaps,' he said to me, in
+a careless way; but she, not aware of his speech, told me they had been
+invited to the Priory,--a piece of information which I own startled
+me. First of all, they are not by any means like people who would be
+agreeable to my father, nor, so far as I can guess, are they persons who
+would easily sacrifice their own modes of life and habits to the wishes
+of a recluse. Least of all, dearest Lucy, do I desire this lady to be
+your companion. She has, I see, many attractive qualities; she may have
+others as good and excellent; but if I do not greatly err, her
+whole nature and being are in subjection to a very stern, cold, and
+unscrupulous man, and she is far from being all that she should be with
+such gifts as she possesses, and farther again from what she might have
+been with a happier destiny in marriage.
+
+"If it were not that you are so certain to meet, and not improbably see
+much of these people, I should not have filled so much of my letter with
+them; but I confess to you, since I saw them they have never been out
+of my thoughts. Our relationship--if that be the name for it--led us
+rapidly into considerable intimacy; he brought his children--two lovely
+girls, and a little cherub of a boy of three years old--to see me
+yesterday, and Mrs. Sewell comes to take me to drive every day after
+luncheon. She expresses the most ardent desire to meet you, and says she
+knows you will love each other. She carried off your picture t' other
+day, and I was in real terror till I got it back again. She seemed in
+ecstasy on being told you were living with your grandfather; but I saw a
+look she shot across to her husband as I told it, and I saw his reply by
+another glance that revealed to me how my tidings had caused surprise,
+and something more than surprise.
+
+"You must not set me down as fanciful or captious, dear Lucy; but the
+simple truth is, I have never had a quiet moment since I knew these
+people. They inspire me with the same sort of anxiety I have often felt
+when, in the course of my profession, some symptom has supervened in
+a case not very grave or startling in itself, but still such as I have
+always found heralding in very serious combinations. It is therefore the
+doctor as much as the father that takes alarm here.
+
+"It is just possible--mind, I say possible--that I am a little jealous
+of these Sewells, for they have already seduced from me my young friend
+Lionel, who was so kind to me on the voyage. I scarcely see him now, he
+is always with them; and yesterday I heard--it may not be true--that
+he is already weary of Cape Town, and means to return home by the next
+ship,--that is, along with the Sewells, who are to sail on Friday.
+
+"I am certain that Sewell is neither a good nor a safe companion for a
+young fellow so bashful and unsuspecting as Lionel Trafford.
+
+"There are men who read the world the way certain dishonest critics
+quote a book or an article, by extracting all that is objectionable,
+and, omitting context and connection, place passage after passage in
+quick sequence. By such a process as this, human life is a pandemonium.
+I half suspect Sewell to be one of this scornful school; and if so, a
+most dangerous intimate. The heartfelt racy enjoyment of his manner, as
+he records some trait of rascality or fraud, is not more marked than the
+contemptuous sneer with which he receives a story that bears testimony
+to generosity or trustfulness, throwing over his air in each that tone
+of knowledge of life and the world that seems to say, 'These are
+the things we all of us know well, though only a few have either the
+manliness or the honesty to declare them openly.'
+
+"I may have tired you with this long tirade, my dear Lucy, but I am
+pouring out to you my thoughts as they come,--come, too, out of the
+fulness of much reflection. Remember, too, my sweet child, that I have
+often told you, 'It is just some half-dozen people with whom we are
+intimate who make or mar our fate in life.' Big as the world is, we play
+a very small game in one corner of the board, and it behoves us to look
+well to those with whom we are to play it.
+
+"If I am jealous of the Sewells for having robbed me of my young friend,
+I am envious of himself also, for he is going back to England,--going
+back to the loved faces and scenes he has left,--going back to Home.
+There 's the word, Lucy, that gathers all that we come to live for, when
+life really is a blessing.
+
+"It would seem too early to pronounce, but I think I can already see
+this is not a place to which I would like to bring you; but I will not
+prejudge it. It may be that time will reconcile me to some things I
+now dislike; it may be, too, that the presence of my own around me will
+dispose me to take a cheerier view of much that now depresses me. I have
+a great deal to do; I am employed during the whole day, and never really
+free till evening, when society claims me. This latter is my only severe
+burden. You can imagine me daily dining out, and fancy the martyrdom it
+costs me.
+
+"I am most anxious to hear of you, and how you like your new life,--I
+mean how you bear it. Liking is not the word for that which entails
+separation. I feel assured that you will love my father. You will be
+generous towards those traits which the host of mere acquaintanceship
+took pleasure in exaggerating, and you will be fair enough not to
+misjudge his great qualities because of certain faults of temper. He has
+great gifts, Lucy; and as you will see, the two pendulums of his nature,
+heart and head, swing together, and he is as noble in sentiment as he is
+grand in action.
+
+"It almost consoles me for separation when I think that I have
+transferred to him the blessings of that presence that made my own
+sunshine. Mind that you send me a diary of your life. I want your whole
+day; I want to see how existence is filled, so that whenever my
+mind flies back to you I may say, 'She is in her garden,--she is
+working,--she is at her music,--she is reading to him.'
+
+"It was a mistake to send me here, Lucy. There are men in scores who
+would rejoice in the opportunities of such a place, and see in it
+the road to rapid fortune. I only look at one feature of it,--the
+banishment. Not that by nature I am discontented,--I hope and believe
+this is not so,--but I feel that there are many things in life far worse
+than poverty. I have not the same dread of narrow means most men have.
+I do not feel depressed in spirit when I lie beneath a very humble roof,
+and sit down to a coarse meal; nor has splendor the power to exhilarate
+or elevate me. I am essentially humble, and I need nothing that is not
+generally within the reach of the humble; and I vow to you in all truth,
+I 'd rather be your grandfather's gardener than be the governor of this
+great colony. There 's an ignoble confession, but keep it for yourself.
+
+"I have written a long letter to Tom by this post, and addressed it to
+Mr. Dempster, who will forward it if he should have left before this. It
+distresses me greatly when I think that I have not been able to give him
+any definite career in life before we parted. Mere aptitude has no value
+with the world. You may be willing and ready to do fifty things, but
+some fourth-rate fellow who _knows_ how to do one will beat you. The
+marketable quality in life is skill; the thing least in request is
+genius. Tom has this harsh lesson yet to learn, but learn it he must,
+for the world is a schoolmaster that will stand no skulking, and however
+little to our taste be its tasks, we must come up when called on, and go
+on with our lesson as well as we may.
+
+"In many respects Sir Brook Fossbrooke was an unfortunate companion
+for him to have chanced upon. A man of considerable resources, who has
+employed them all unprofitably, is a bad pilot. The very waywardness of
+such a nature was exactly the quality to be avoided in Tom's case; but
+what was to be done? Poverty can no more select its company than its
+climate; and it would have been worse than ungracious to have rejected a
+friendship so generously and freely offered.
+
+"I am curious--I am more than curious, I am anxious--to know if Tom
+should ever have met my father. They are so intensely alike in many
+things that I fear me their meeting could not lead to-good. I know well
+that Tom resents, and would like to show that he resents, what he
+deems the harsh treatment evinced towards me, and I dread anything
+like interchange of words between them. My whole hope is that you would
+prevent such a mischance, or, if it did occur, would take measures to
+obviate its dangers.
+
+"Tell me particularly about this when you write. Tell me also, have
+you met Lady Lendrick, and if so, on what terms? I have ever found her
+obliging and good-natured, and with many qualities which the world has
+not given her credit for. Give her my most respectful regards when you
+see her.
+
+"It is daybreak; the hot sun of Africa is already glancing into the
+room, and I must conclude. I cannot bear to think of the miles these
+lines must travel ere they meet you, but they will be with you at last,
+and they are in this more fortunate than your loving father,
+
+"T. Lendrick."
+
+Lucy sat long pondering over this letter. She read it too, again and
+again, and by a light which was certainly not vouchsafed to him who
+wrote it. To _her_ there was no mystery in Trafford's conduct. It
+was plain enough he had gone out, expecting to find her as his
+fellow-passenger. His despair--his wretchedness--his devotion to
+her father, the last resource of that disappointment he could not
+subdue--were all intelligible enough. Less easy, however, to read the
+sudden attachment he had formed for the Sewells. What did this mean? Had
+it any meaning; and if so, was it one that concerned her to know?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. OFFICIAL MYSTERIES
+
+"I think I had better see him myself," said Fossbrooke, after patiently
+listening to Tom Lendrick's account of his meeting with his grandfather.
+"It is possible I may be able to smooth down matters a little, and
+dispose the old gentleman, besides, to accord us some aid in our
+Sardinian project, for I have resolved upon that, Tom."
+
+"Indeed, sir; the gold-mine?"
+
+"No, the lead,--the lead and silver. In the rough calculation I made
+last night on this slip of paper, I see my way to something like seven
+thousand a year to begin with; untold wealth will follow. There are no
+less than eleven products available,--the black lead of pencils and the
+white used by painters being the chief; while in my new salt, which I
+am disposed to call the 'pyrochloride of plumbium,' we have a sedative
+that will allay the pangs of hydrophobia."
+
+"I wish it would quiet the Chief Baron," muttered Tom; and Sir Brook,
+not hearing him correctly, continued,--"I think so,--I think the Chief
+Baron eminently calculated to take a proper estimate of my discovery. A
+man of fine intellect is ever ready to accept truth, albeit it come in a
+shape and through a channel in which he has himself not pursued it. Will
+you write a line to your sister and ask if it would be his Lordship's
+convenience to receive me, and at what time?"
+
+"Of course, sir, whatever you wish," said Tom, in some confusion; "but
+might I ask if it be your intention to ask my grandfather to aid me with
+his purse?"
+
+"Naturally. I mean that he should, by advancing, let us say, eight
+hundred pounds, put you in a position to achieve a speedy fortune. He
+shall see, too, that our first care has been your sister's interests.
+Six-sixteenths of the profits for fifty years are to be hers; three each
+we reserve for ourselves; the remaining four will form a reserve fund
+for casualties, a capital for future development, and a sum at interest
+to pay superannuations, with some other objects that you will find
+roughly jotted down here, for which, however, they will amply suffice. I
+take it his Lordship knows something of metallurgy, Tom?" "I believe
+he knows a little of everything." "Chemistry I feel sure he must have
+studied." "I won't answer for the study; but you 'll find that when
+you come to talk with him, you 'll scarcely wander very far out of his
+geography. But I was going to say, sir, that I 'm not quite easy at the
+thought of asking him for money."
+
+"It's not money--at least, it's no gift--we require of him. We are in
+possession of a scheme certain to secure a fortune. We know where a
+treasure lies hid, and we want no more than the cost of the journey to
+go and fetch it. He shall be more than repaid. The very dispositions
+we make in your sister's favor will show him in what spirit we mean to
+deal. It is possible--I am willing to own it--it is possible I might
+approach a man of inferior intelligence with distrust and fear, but in
+coming before Baron Lendrick I have no misgivings. All my experience of
+life has shown me that the able men are the generous men. In the ample
+stretch of their minds they estimate mankind by larger averages, and
+thus they come to see that there is plenty of good in human nature."
+
+"I believe the old Judge is clever enough, and some speak very well
+of his character; but his temper--his temper is something that would
+swallow up all the fine qualities that ever were accorded to one man;
+and even if you were about to go on a mission I liked better, I 'd
+say, Don't ask to see him, don't expose yourself to the risk of some
+outrageous affront,--something you could n't bear and would n't resent."
+
+"I have never yet found myself in the predicament you speak of,"
+said Sir Brook, drawing himself up haughtily, "nor do I know of any
+contingency in life from which I could retreat on account of its perils.
+It may be, indeed it is, more than likely, from what you tell me, that
+I shall make no appeal to your grandfather's generosity; but I shall see
+him to tender your regrets for any pain you may have caused him, and to
+tell also so much of our future intentions as it is becoming the head
+of your house should hear. I also desire to see your sister, and say
+good-bye."
+
+"Ask her to let me do so too. I can't go away without seeing her again."
+Tom took a turn or two up and down the room as though he had not made up
+his mind whether to say something or not. He looked out of the window,
+possibly in search of something to distract his thoughts, and then
+turning suddenly about, he said: "I was thinking, sir, that if it was
+your opinion--mind, I don't want to insinuate that it ought to be, or
+even that it is my own--but that if you came to the conclusion that
+my sister was not happy with my grandfather--that her life was one of
+depression and suffering--what would you say to her coming along with
+us?"
+
+"To Sardinia! Coming to Sardinia, do you mean, Tom?" said the old man,
+in astonishment.
+
+"Yes, sir, that is what I meant."
+
+"Have I not told you the sort of life that lies before us in the
+island,--the hardships, the dangers, the bitter privations we shall
+have to endure? Is it to these we can invite a young girl, trained and
+accustomed to every elegance and every comfort?"
+
+"She 'd not shrink from her share,--that much I 'll warrant you; and the
+worst roughing of that rugged life would be easier to bear than this old
+man's humor."
+
+"No, no; it must not be thought of," said Fossbrooke, sternly. "What
+meaning has our enterprise if it be not to secure her future fortune?
+She cannot--she shall not--pay any part of the price. Let me think over
+this, Tom. It may be that we ought not to leave her; it may be that we
+should hit upon something nearer home. I will go up to the Castle and
+see the Viceroy."
+
+He made a light grimace as he said this. Such a visit was by no means to
+his taste. If there was anything totally repugnant to his nature, it was
+to approach men whom he had known as friends or intimates with anything
+like the request for a favor. It seemed to him to invert all the
+relations which ought to subsist between men in society. The moment
+you had stooped to such a step, in his estimation you had forfeited all
+right to that condition of equality which renders intercourse agreeable.
+
+"I must have something for this young fellow,--something that may enable
+him to offer his sister a home if she should need it. I will accept
+nothing for myself,--on that I am determined. It is a sorry part, that
+of suppliant, but so long as it is for another it is endurable. Not that
+I like it, though,--not that it sits easy on me,--and I am too old to
+acquire a new manner." Thus muttering to himself, he went along till he
+found himself at the chief entrance of the Castle.
+
+"You will have to wait on Mr. Balfour, sir, his Excellency's private
+secretary, the second door from the corner," said the porter, scarcely
+deigning a glance at one so evidently unversed in viceregal observances.
+Sir Brook nodded and withdrew. From a groom who was holding a
+neat-looking cob pony Fossbrooke learned that Mr. Balfour was about to
+take his morning's ride. "He'll not see you now," said the man. "You 'll
+have to come back about four or half-past."
+
+"I have only a question to ask," said Sir Brook, half to himself as he
+ascended the stairs. As he gained the landing and rang, the door opened
+and Mr. Balfour appeared. "I regret to detain you, sir," began Sir
+Brook, as he courteously raised his hat. "Mr. Balfour, I believe."
+
+"You are right as to my name, but quite as wrong if you fancy that you
+will detain me," said that plump and very self-satisfied gentleman, as
+he moved forward.
+
+"And yet, sir, such is my intention," said Sir Brook, placing himself
+directly in front of him.
+
+"That is a matter very soon settled," said Balfour, returning to the
+door and calling out, "Pollard, step down to the lower yard, and send a
+policeman here."
+
+Sir Brook heard the order unmoved in manner, and even made way for the
+servant to pass down the stairs. No sooner, however, was the man out
+of hearing than he said, "It would be much better, sir, not to render
+either of us ridiculous. I am Sir Brook Fossbrooke, and I come here to
+learn at what time it would be his Excellency's pleasure to receive me."
+
+The calm quiet dignity in which he spoke, even more than the words, had
+its effect on Balfour, who, with more awkwardness than he would like
+to have owned, asked Sir Brook to walk in and be seated. "I have had a
+message for you from his Excellency these three or four days back, and
+knew not where to find you."
+
+"Did it never occur to you to try what assistance the police might
+afford, sir?" said he, with deep gravity.
+
+"One thinks of these generally as a last resource," said Balfour,
+coolly, and possibly not sorry to show how imperturbable he could be
+under a sarcasm.
+
+"And now for the message, sir," said Fossbrooke.
+
+"I'll be shot if I remember it. Wasn't it something about an election
+riot? You thrashed a priest, named Malcahy, eh?"
+
+"I opine not, sir," said Sir Brook, with a faint smile.
+
+"No, no; you are the great man for acclimatization; you want to make the
+ornithorhynchus as common as the turkey. Am I right?"
+
+Sir Brook shook his head.
+
+"I never have my head clear out of office hours, that 's the fact," said
+Balfour, impatiently. "If you had called on me between twelve and three,
+you 'd have found me like a directory."
+
+"Put no strain upon your recollection, sir. When I see the Viceroy, it
+is probable he will repeat the message."
+
+"You know him, then?"
+
+"I have known him eight-and-forty years."
+
+"Oh, I have it,--I remember it all now. You used to be with Colonel
+Hanger and Hugh Seymour and O'Kelly and all the Carlton House lot."
+
+Fossbrooke bowed a cold assent.
+
+"His Excellency told us the other evening that there was not a man in
+England who had so many stories of the Prince. Didn't Moore go to you
+about his Life of Sheridan?--yes, of course,--and you promised him some
+very valuable documents; and sent him five-and-twenty protested bills of
+poor Brinsley's, labelled 'Indubitable Records.'"
+
+"This does not lead us to the message, sir," said Foss-brooke, stiffly.
+
+"Yes, but it does though,--I'm coming to it. I have a system of
+artificial memory, and I have just arrived at you now through Carlton
+House, milk-punch, and that story about Lord Grey and yourself riding
+postilions to Ascot, and you on the wheelers tipping up Grey with your
+whip till he grew frantic. Was n't that a fact?"
+
+"I wait for the message, sir; or rather I grow impatient at not hearing
+it."
+
+"I remember it perfectly. It's a place he wants to offer you; it's
+a something under the Courts of Law. You are to do next to
+nothing,--nothing at all, I believe, if you prefer it, as the last
+fellow did. He lived in Dresden for the education of his children, and
+he died there, and we did n't know when he died,--at least they suspect
+he signed some dozen life certificates that his doctor used to forward
+at quarter-day. Mind, I don't give you the story as mine; but the
+impression is that he held the office for eight years after his death."
+
+"Perhaps, sir, you would now favor me with the name and nature of the
+appointment."
+
+"He was called the Deputy-Assistant Sub-something of somewhere in the
+Exchequer; and he had to fill, or to register, or to put a seal, or, if
+not a seal, a stamp on some papers; but the marrow of the matter is, he
+had eight hundred a year for it; and when the Act passed requiring two
+seals, he asked for an increase of salary and an assistant clerk, and
+they gave him two hundred more, but they refused the clerk. They do such
+shabby things in those short sittings over the Estimates!"
+
+"And am I to understand that his Excellency makes me an offer of this
+appointment?"
+
+"Well, not exactly; there's a hitch in it,--I may say there are
+two hitches: first of all, we 're not sure it's in our gift; and,
+secondly--"
+
+"Perhaps I may spare you the secondly,--the firstly is more than enough
+for me."
+
+"Yes, but I'd like to explain. Here's how it is: the Chief Baron claimed
+the patronage about twenty years ago, and we made, or the people
+who were in power made, some sort of a compromise about an ultimate
+nomination, and he was to have the first. Now this man only died
+t' other day, having held the office, as I said, upwards of twenty
+years,--a most unconscionable thing,--just one of those selfish acts
+small official fellows are always doing; and so _I_ thought, as I saw
+your name down for something on his Excellency's list, that I 'd mention
+_you_ for the post as a sort of sop to Baron Lendrick, saying, 'Look
+at our man; we are not going to saddle the country with one of your
+long-annuity fellows,--_he_ 's eighty if he's a day.' I say, I 'd press
+this point, because the old Judge says he is no longer bound by
+the terms of the compromise, for that the office was abolished and
+reconstructed by the 58th of Victoria, and that he now insists on the
+undivided patronage."
+
+"I presume that the astute reasons which induced you to think of _me_
+have not been communicated to the Viceroy."
+
+"I should think not. I mention them to you frankly, because his
+Excellency said you were one of those men who must be dealt with openly.
+'Play on the square with Foss-brooke,' said he; 'and whether he win or
+lose, you 'll see no change in him. Try to overreach him, and you 'll
+catch a tiger.'"
+
+"I am very grateful for his kind estimate of me. It is, however, no more
+than I looked for at his hands." This he said with a marked feeling,
+and then added, in a lighter tone, "I have also a debt of gratitude
+to yourself, of which I know not how to acquit myself better than by
+accepting this appointment, and taking the earliest opportunity to die
+afterwards."
+
+"No, don't do that; I don't mean that. You can do like that fellow they
+made Pope because he looked on the verge of the grave, and who pitched
+his crutch into the air when he had put on the tiara."
+
+"I understand; so that it is only in Baron Lendrick's eyes I am to look
+short-lived."
+
+"Just so; call on him,--have a meeting with him; say that his Excellency
+desires to act with every delicacy towards him,--that should it be
+discovered hereafter the right of nomination lies with the Court and not
+with us, we 'll give him an equivalent somewhere else, till--till--"
+
+"Till I shall have vacated the post," chimed in Sir Brook, blandly; "a
+matter, of course, of very brief space."
+
+"You see the whole thing,--you see it in all its bearings; and now if
+you only could know something about the man you have to deal with, there
+would be nothing more to tell you."
+
+"I have heard about him passingly."
+
+"Oh, yes, his eccentricities are well known. The world is full of
+stories of him, but he is one of those men who play wolf on the
+species,--he must be worrying somebody to keep him from worrying
+himself; he smashed the last two Governments here, and he 'd have upset
+_us_ too if _I_ had n't been here. He hates _me_ cordially; and if you
+don't want to rouse his anger, don't let your lips murmur the name,
+Cholmondely Balfour."
+
+"You may rely upon me, sir," said Sir Brook, bowing. "I have scarcely
+ever met a gentleman whose name I am not more likely to recall than your
+own."
+
+"Sharp, that; did you mean it?" said Balfour, with his glass to his eye.
+
+"I am never ambiguous, sir, though it occasionally happens to me to say
+somewhat less than I feel. I wish you a good day."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. IN COURT.
+
+When the day arrived that the Chief Baron was to resume his place on
+the Bench, no small share of excitement was seen to prevail within the
+precincts of the Four Courts. Many opined that his recovery was far
+from perfect, and that it was not his intention ever to return to the
+justice-seat. Some maintained that the illness had been far less severe
+than was pretended, and that he had employed the attack as a means of
+pressure on the Government, to accord to his age and long services
+the coveted reward. Less argumentative partisans there were who were
+satisfied to wager that he would or would not reappear on the Bench, and
+bets were even laid that he would come for one last time, as though to
+show the world in what full vigor of mind and intellect was the man the
+Government desired to consign to inactivity and neglect.
+
+It is needless to say that he was no favorite with the Bar. There was
+scarcely a man, from the highest to the lowest, whom he had not on some
+occasion or another snubbed, ridiculed, or reprimanded. Whose law had he
+not controverted? Whose acuteness had he not exposed, whose rhetoric
+not made jest of? The mere presence of ability before him seemed to
+stimulate his combative spirit, and incite him to a passage at arms with
+one able to defend himself. No first-rate man could escape the shafts of
+his barbed and pointed wit; it was only dulness, hopeless dulness,
+that left his court with praise of his urbanity and an eulogy over his
+courteous demeanor.
+
+Now, hopeless dulness is not the characteristic of the Irish Bar, and
+with the majority the Chief Baron was the reverse of popular.
+
+No small tribute was it therefore to his intellectual superiority, to
+that mental power that all acknowledged while they dreaded, that his
+appearance was greeted with a murmur of approbation, which swelled
+louder and louder as he moved across the hall, till it burst out at
+last into a hoarse, full cheer of welcome. Mounting the steps with
+difficulty, the pale old man, seared with age and wrinkled with care,
+turned round towards the vast crowd, and with an eye of flashing
+brightness, and a heightened color, pressed his hand upon his heart,
+and bowed. A very slight motion it was,--less, far less, perhaps, than
+a sovereign might have accorded; but in its dignity and grace it was a
+perfect recognition of all the honor he felt had been done him.
+
+How broken! how aged! how fearfully changed! were the whispered remarks
+that were uttered around as he took his seat on the Bench, and more
+significant even than words were the looks interchanged when he
+attempted to speak, and instead of that clear metallic ring which once
+had been audible even outside the court, a faint murmuring sound was
+only heard.
+
+A few commonplace motions were made and discharged. A somewhat wearisome
+argument followed on a motion for a new trial, and the benches of the
+Bar gradually grew thinner and thinner, as the interest of the scene
+wore off, and as each in turn had scanned, and, after his own fashion,
+interpreted, the old Judge's powers of mind and body; when suddenly,
+and as it were without ostensible cause, the court began to fill,--bench
+after bench was occupied, till at last even all the standing-space was
+crowded; and when the massive curtain moved aside, vast numbers were
+seen without, eagerly trying to enter. At first the Chief Baron appeared
+not to notice the change, but his sharp eye no sooner detected it than
+he followed with his glance the directed gaze of the crowd, and saw
+it fixed on the gallery, opposite the jury-box, now occupied by a
+well-dressed company, in the midst of whom, conspicuous above all, sat
+Lady Lendrick. So well known were the relations that subsisted between
+himself and his wife, such publicity had been given to their hates and
+quarrels, that her presence here was regarded as a measure of shameless
+indelicacy. In the very defiant look, too, that she bestowed on the body
+of the court she seemed to accept the imputation, and to dare it.
+
+Leisurely and calmly did she scan the old man's features through her
+double eyeglass, while from time to time, with a simpering smile, she
+would whisper some words to the lady at her side,--words it was not
+needful to overhear, they were so palpably words of critical comment
+upon him she gazed at.
+
+So engrossed was attention by the indecency of this intrusion, which had
+not even the shallow pretext of an interesting cause to qualify it, that
+it was only after a considerable time it was perceived that the lady who
+sat next Lady Lendrick was exceedingly beautiful. If no longer in her
+first youth, there were traits of loveliness in her perfectly formed
+features which even years respect; and in the depth of her orbits and
+the sculptural elegance of her nostrils and her mouth, there was all
+that beauty we love to call Greek, but in which no classic model ever
+could compete with the daughters of England.
+
+Her complexion was of exceeding delicacy, as was the half-warm tint of
+her light-brown hair. But it was when she smiled that the captivation
+of her beauty became perfect; and it seemed as though each and all there
+appropriated that radiant favor to himself, and felt his heart bound
+with a sort of ecstasy. It had been rumored in the morning through the
+hall that the Chief Baron, at the rising of the Court, would deliver a
+short reply to the address of the Bar; and now, as the last motion was
+being disposed of, the appearance of eager expectation and curiosity
+became conspicuous on every side.
+
+That the unlooked-for presence of his wife had irritated and embarrassed
+the old man, was plain to the least observant. The stern expression of
+his features; the steadfast way in which he gazed into the body of
+the court, to avoid even a chance glance at the gallery; the fretful
+impatience with which he moved his hands restlessly amongst his
+papers,--all showed discomposure and uneasiness. Still, it was well
+known that the moment he was called on for a mental effort intellect
+ever assumed the mastery over temper, and all felt that when he should
+arise not a trace of embarrassment would remain to mar the calm dignity
+of his manner.
+
+It was amidst a hushed silence that he stood up, and said: "Mr. Chief
+Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar: I had intended to-day,--I had even
+brought down with me some notes of a reply which I purposed to make to
+the more than flattering address which you so graciously offered to me.
+I find, however, that I have overrated the strength that remains to
+me. I find I have measured my power to thank you by the depth of my
+gratitude, and not by the vigor of my frame. I am too weak to say all
+that I feel, and too deeply your debtor to ask you to accept less than I
+owe you. Had the testimony of esteem you presented to me only alluded to
+those gifts of mind and intellect with which a gracious Providence was
+pleased to endow me,--had you limited yourself to the recognition of the
+lawyer and the judge,--I might possibly have found strength to assure
+you that I accepted your praise with the consciousness that it was not
+all unmerited. The language of your address, however, went beyond this;
+your words were those of regard, even of affection. I am unused to such
+as these, gentlemen,--they unsettle--they unman me. Physicians tell us
+that the nerves of the student acquire a morbid and diseased acuteness
+for want of those habits of action and physical exertion which more
+vulgar organizations practise. So do I feel that the mental faculties
+gain an abnormal intensity in proportion as the affections are
+neglected, and the soil of the heart left untilled.
+
+"Mine have been worse than ignored," said he, with an elevated tone, and
+in a voice that rang through the court,--"they have been outraged; and
+when the time comes that biography will have to deal with my character
+and my fortunes, if there be but justice in the award, the summing-up
+will speak of me as one ever linked with a destiny that was beneath
+him. He was a lawyer,--he ought to have been a legislator. He sat on
+the Bench, while his place was the Cabinet; and when at the end of
+a laborious life his brethren rallied round him with homage and with
+tender regard, they found him like a long beleaguered city starved
+into submission, carrying a bold port towards the enemy, but torn by
+dissension within, and betrayed by the very garrison that should have
+died in its defence."
+
+The savage fierceness of these words turned every eye in the court to
+the gallery, where Lady Lendrick sat, and where, with a pleasant smile
+on her face, she not only listened with seeming pleasure, but beat time
+with her fan to the rhythm of the well-rounded periods.
+
+A quivering of the lip, and a strange flattening of the cheek of one
+side, succeeded to the effort with which he delivered these words, and
+when he attempted to speak again his voice failed him; and after a few
+attempts he placed his hand on his brow, and with a look of intense and
+most painful significancy, bowed around him to both sides of the court
+and retired.
+
+"That woman, that atrocious woman, has killed him," muttered poor Haire,
+as he hastened to the Judge's robing-room.
+
+"I am sorry, my dear, you should not have heard him in a better vein,
+for he is really eloquent at times," said Lady Lendrick to her beautiful
+companion, as they moved through the crowd to their carriage.
+
+"I trust his present excitement will not have bad consequences," said
+the other, softly. "Don't you think we ought to wait and ask how he is?"
+
+"If you like. I have only one objection, and that is, that we may be
+misconstrued. There are people here malicious enough to impute the worst
+of motives to our anxiety. Oh, here is Mr. Pemberton! Mr. Pemberton,
+will you do me the great favor to inquire how the Chief Baron is? Would
+you do more, and say that I am most eager to know if I could be of any
+use to him?"
+
+If Mr. Pemberton had no fancy for his mission, he could not very well
+decline it. While he was absent, the ladies took a turn through the
+hall, inspecting the two or three statues of distinguished lawyers, and
+scanning the living faces, whose bewigged expression seemed to blend the
+over-wise and the ridiculous in the strangest imaginable manner.
+
+A sudden movement in the crowd betokened some event; and now, through a
+lane formed in the dense mass, the Chief Baron was seen approaching.
+He had divested himself of his robes, and looked the younger for the
+change. Indeed, there was an almost lightness in his step, as he
+came forward, and with a bland smile said: "I am most sensible of the
+courtesy that led you here. I only wish my strength had been more
+equal to the occasion." And he took Lady Lendrick's hand with a mingled
+deference and regard.
+
+"Sir William, this is my daughter-in-law. She only arrived yesterday,
+but was determined not to lose the opportunity of hearing you."
+
+[Illustration: 178]
+
+"To have _heard_ me to-day was disappointment," said the old man, as
+he raised the young lady's hand to his lips; "to see her is none. I am
+charmed to meet one so closely tied to me,--of such exquisite beauty.
+Ah, Madam! it's a dear-bought privilege, this candid appreciation of
+loveliness we old men indulge in. May I offer you my arm?"
+
+And now through the dense crowd they passed along,--all surprised and
+amazed at the courteous attentions of the old Judge, whom but a few
+moments before they had seen almost convulsed with passion.
+
+"She almost had won the game, Haire," said the Chief Baron, as, having
+handed the ladies to their carriage, he went in search of his own. "But
+I have mated her. My sarcasm has never given me one victory with
+that woman," said he, sternly. "I have never conquered her except by
+courtesy."
+
+"Why did she come down to court at all?" blurted out Haire; "it was
+positively indecent."
+
+"The Spanish women go to bull-fights, but I never heard that they
+stepped down into, the arena. She has great courage,--very great
+courage."
+
+"Who was the handsome woman with her?"
+
+"Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Sewell. Now, that is what I call beauty,
+Haire. There is the element which is denied to us men,--to subdue
+without effort, to conquer without conflict."
+
+"Your granddaughter is handsomer, to my thinking."
+
+"They are like each other,--strangely like. They have the same dimpling
+of the cheek before they smile, and her laugh has the same ring as
+Lucy's."
+
+Haire muttered something, not very intelligibly, indeed, but certainly
+not sounding like assent.
+
+"Lady Lendrick had asked me to take these Sewells in at the Priory, and
+I refused her. Perhaps I 'd have been less peremptory had I seen this
+beauty. Yes, sir! There is a form of loveliness--this woman has it--as
+distinctly an influence as intellectual superiority, or great rank,
+or great riches. To deny its power you must live out of the world, and
+reject all the ordinances of society."
+
+"Coquettes, I suppose, have their followers; but I don't think you or I
+need be of the number."
+
+"You speak with your accustomed acuteness, Haire; but coquetry is the
+exercise of many gifts, beauty is the display of one. I can parry off
+the one; I cannot help feeling the burning rays of the other. Come,
+come, don't sulk; I am not going to undervalue your favorite Lucy. They
+have promised to dine with me on Sunday; you must meet them."
+
+"Dine with you!--dine with you, after what you said today in open
+court!"
+
+"That I could invite them, and they accept my invitation, is the best
+reply to those who would, in their malevolence, misinterpret whatever
+may have fallen from me. The wound of a sharp arrow is never very
+painful till some inexpert bungler endeavors to withdraw the weapon. It
+is then that agony becomes excruciating, and peril imminent."
+
+"I suppose I am the bungler, then?"
+
+"Heaven forbid I should say so! but as I have often warned you, Haire,
+your turn for sarcasm is too strong for even your good sense. When you
+have shotted your gun with a good joke, you will make a bull's eye of
+your best friend."
+
+"By George, then, I don't know myself, that's all; and I could as easily
+imagine myself a rich man as a witty one."
+
+"You are rich in gifts more precious than money; and you have the
+quintessence of all wit in that property that renders you suggestive;
+it is like what chemists call latent heat. But to return to Mrs. Sewell:
+she met my son at the Cape, and reports favorably of his health and
+prospects."
+
+"Poor fellow! what a banishment he must feel it!"
+
+"I wonder, sir, how many of us go through life without sacrifices! She
+says that he goes much into the world, and is already very popular in
+the society of the place,--a great and happy change to a man who
+had suffered his indolence and self-indulgence to master him. Had he
+remained at home, I might have been able to provide for him. George
+Ogle's place is vacant, and I am determined to exercise my right of
+appointment."
+
+"First Registrar, was he not?"
+
+"Yes; a snug berth for incapacity,--one thousand a year. Ogle made
+more of it by means we shall not inquire into, but which shall not be
+repeated."
+
+"You ought to give it to your grandson," said Haire, bluntly.
+
+"You ought to know better than to say so, sir," said the Judge, with a
+stern severity. "It is to men like myself the public look for example
+and direction, and it would be to falsify all the teaching of my life if
+I were to misuse my patronage. Come up early on Saturday morning, and
+go over the lists with me. There are one hundred and twenty-three
+applicants, backed by peers, bishops, members of Parliament, and men in
+power."
+
+"I don't envy you your patronage."
+
+"Of course not, sir. The one hundred and twenty-two disappointed
+candidates would present more terror to a mind like yours than any
+consciousness of a duty fulfilled would compensate for; but I am
+fashioned of other stuff."
+
+"Well, I only hope it may be a worthy fellow gets it."
+
+"If you mean worthy in what regards a devotion to the public service, I
+may possibly be able to assure you on that head."
+
+"No, no; I mean a good fellow,--a true-hearted, honest fellow, to whom
+the salary will be a means of comfort and happiness."
+
+"Sir, you ask far too much. Men in my station investigate fitness and
+capacity; they cannot descend to inquire how far the domestic virtues
+influence those whom they advance to office."
+
+"You may drop me here: I am near home," said Haire, who began to feel a
+little weary of being lectured.
+
+"You will not dine with me?"
+
+"Not to-day. I have some business this evening. I have a case to look
+over."
+
+"Come up on Saturday, then,--come to breakfast; bring me any newspapers
+that treat of the appointment, and let us see if we cannot oppose this
+spirit of dictation they are so prone to assume; for I am resolved I
+will never name a man to office who has the Press for his patron."
+
+"It may not be his fault."
+
+"It shall be his misfortune, then. Stop, Drab; Mr. Haire wishes to get
+down. To the Priory," said he, as his friend went his way; and now,
+leaning back in his carriage, the old man continued to talk aloud, and,
+addressing an imaginary audience, declaim against the encroaching
+spirit of the newspapers, and inveigh against the perils to which their
+irresponsible counsels exposed the whole framework of society; and thus
+speaking, and passionately gesticulating, he reached his home.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A MORNING CALL.
+
+As Sir William waited breakfast for Haire on Saturday morning, a car
+drove up to the door, and the butler soon afterwards entered with a card
+and a letter. The card bore the name "Sir Brook Fossbrooke," and the
+letter was sealed with the viceregal arms, and had the name "Wilmington"
+on the corner. Sir William broke it open, and read,--
+
+"My dear Chief Baron,--This will come to your hand through Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, one of my oldest and choicest friends. He tells me
+he desires to know you, and I am not aware of any more natural or
+legitimate ambition. It would be presumption in me to direct your
+attention to qualities you will be more quick to discover and more able
+to appreciate than myself. I would only add that your estimate will,
+I feel assured, be not less favorable that it will be formed of one
+of whose friendship I am proud. It may be that his visit to you will
+include a matter of business; if so, give it your courteous attention:
+and believe me ever, my dear Chief Baron, your faithful friend,
+
+"Wilmington."
+
+"Show the gentleman in," said the Judge; and he advanced towards the
+door as Sir Brook entered. "I am proud to make your acquaintance, Sir
+Brook," said he, presenting his hand.
+
+"I would not have presumed to call on you at such an hour, my Lord Chief
+Baron, save that my minutes are numbered. I must leave for England this
+evening; and I wished, if possible, to meet you before I started."
+
+"You will, I hope, join me at breakfast?"
+
+"I breakfasted two hours ago,--if I dare to dignify by the name my meal
+of bread and milk. But, pray, let me not keep you from yours,--that is,
+if you will permit me to speak to you while so occupied."
+
+"I am at your orders, sir," said the old Judge, as he seated himself and
+requested his visitor to sit beside him.
+
+"His Excellency tells me, my Lord, that there is just now vacant a
+situation of which some doubt exists as to the patron,--a Registrarship,
+I think he called it, in your Court?"
+
+"There is no doubt whatever, sir. The patronage is mine."
+
+"I merely quote the Viceroy, my Lord,--I assert nothing of myself."
+
+"It may not impossibly save time, sir, when I repeat that his Excellency
+has misinformed you. The office is in my gift."
+
+"May I finish the communication with which he charged me?"
+
+"Sir, there is no case before the court," said the Judge. "I can
+hear you, as a matter of courtesy; but it cannot be your object to be
+listened to on such terms?"
+
+"I will accept even so little. If it should prove that the view taken by
+his Excellency is the correct one--pray, sir, let me proceed--"
+
+"I cannot; I have no temper for a baseless hypothesis. I will not,
+besides, abuse your time any more than my own forbearance; and I
+therefore say that if any portion of your interest in making my
+acquaintance concerns that question you have so promptly broached, the
+minutes employed in the discussion would be thrown away by us both."
+
+"Mr. Haire," said the servant, at this moment; and the Chief Baron's old
+friend entered, rather heated by his walk.
+
+"You are late by half an hour, Haire; let me present you to Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, whose acquaintance I am now honored in making. Sir Brook
+is under a delusive impression, Haire, which I told you a few days ago
+would demand some decisive step on my part; he thinks that the vacant
+registrarship is at the disposal of the Crown."
+
+"I ask pardon," said Fossbrooke. "As I understood his Excellency, they
+only claim the alternate appointment."
+
+"And they shall not assert even that, sir."
+
+"Sir William's case is strong,--it is irrefutable. I have gone over it
+myself," broke in Haire.
+
+"There, sir! listen to that. You have now wherewithal to go back and
+tell the Viceroy that the opinion of the leading man of the Irish Bar
+has decided against his claim. Tell him, sir, that accident timed your
+visit here at the same moment with my distinguished friend's, and that
+you in this way obtained a spontaneous decision on the matter at issue.
+When you couple with that judgment the name of William Haire, you will
+have said enough."
+
+"I bow to this great authority," said Sir Brook, with deep courtesy,
+"and accepting your Lordship's statement to the fullest, I would only
+add, that as it was his Excellency's desire to have named me to this
+office, might I so far presume, on the loss of the good fortune that I
+had looked for, to approach you with a request, only premising that it
+is not on my own behalf?"
+
+"I own, sir, that I do not clearly appreciate the title to your claim.
+You are familiar with the turf, Sir Brook, and you know that it is only
+the second horse has a right to demand his entry."
+
+"I have not been beaten, my Lord. You have scratched my name and
+prevented my running."
+
+"Let us come back to fact, sir," said the Chief Baron, not pleased with
+the retort. "How can you base any right to approach me with a request on
+the circumstance that his Excellency desired to give you what belonged
+to another?"
+
+"Yes, that puts it forcibly--unanswerably--to my thinking," said Haire.
+
+"I may condole with disappointment, sir, but I am not bound to
+compensate defeat," said the old Judge; and he arose and walked the room
+with that irritable look and manner which even the faintest opposition
+to him often evoked, and for which even the utterance of a flippant
+rebuke but partly compensated him.
+
+"I take it, my Lord Chief Baron," said Fossbrooke, calmly, "that I
+have neither asked for condolence nor compensation. I told you, I hoped
+distinctly that what I was about to urge was not on my own behalf."
+
+"Well, sir, and I think the plea is only the less sustainable. The
+Viceroy's letter might give a pretext for the one; there is nothing in
+our acquaintance would warrant the other."
+
+"If you knew, sir, how determined I am not to take offence at words
+which certainly imperil patience, you would possibly spare me some
+of these asperities. I am in close relations of friendship with your
+grandson; he is at present living with me; I have pledged myself to his
+father to do my utmost in securing him some honorable livelihood, and
+it is in his behalf that I have presented myself before you to-day. Will
+you graciously accord me a hearing on this ground?"
+
+There was a quiet dignity of manner in which he said this, a total
+forgetfulness of self, and a manly simplicity of purpose so palpable,
+that the old Judge felt he was in presence of one whose character called
+for all his respect; at the same time he was not one to be suddenly
+carried away by a sentiment, and in a very measured voice he replied,
+"If I 'm flattered, sir, by the interest you take in a member of my
+family, I am still susceptible of a certain displeasure that it should
+be a stranger should stand before me to ask me for any favor to my own."
+
+"I am aware, my Lord Chief Baron, that my position is a false one, but
+so is your own."
+
+"Mine, sir! mine? What do you mean? Explain yourself."
+
+"If your Lordship's interest had been exerted as it might have been,
+Dr. Lendrick's son would never have needed so humble a friend as he has
+found in me."
+
+"And have you come here, sir, to lecture me on my duty to my family?
+Have you presented yourself under the formality of a viceregal letter
+of introduction to tell a perfect stranger to you how he should have
+demeaned himself to his own?"
+
+"Probably I might retort, and ask by what right you lecture me on my
+manners and behavior? But I am willing to be taught by so consummate a
+master of everything; and though I was once a courtier, I believe that
+I have much to learn on the score of breeding. And now, my Lord, let us
+leave this unpromising theme, and come to one which has more interest
+for each of us. If this registrarship, this place, whatever it be, would
+be one to suit your grandson, will the withdrawal of _my_ claim serve
+to induce your Lordship to support _his?_ In one word, my Lord, will you
+let him have the appointment?"
+
+"I distinctly refuse, sir," said the Judge, waving his hand with an air
+of dignity. "Of the young gentleman for whom you intercede I know but
+little; but there are two disqualifications against him, more than
+enough, either of them, to outweigh your advocacy."
+
+"May I learn them?" asked Sir Brook, meekly.
+
+"You shall, sir. He carries my name without its prestige; he inherits
+_my_ temper, but not my intellect." The blood rushed to his face as he
+spoke, and his chest swelled, and his whole bearing bespoke the fierce
+pride that animated him; when suddenly, as it were, recollecting
+himself, he added: "I am not wont to give way thus, sir. It is only in
+a moment of forgetfulness that I could have obtruded a personal
+consideration into a question of another kind. My friend here will tell
+you if it has been the habit of my life to pension my family on the
+public."
+
+"Having failed in one object of my coming, let me hope for better
+success in another. May I convey to your Lordship your grandson's regret
+for having offended you? It has caused him sincere sorrow and much
+self-reproach. May I return with the good tidings of your forgiveness?"
+
+"The habits of my order are opposed to rash judgments, and consequently
+to hasty reversions. I will consider the case, and let you hear my
+opinion upon it."
+
+"I think that is about as much as you will do with him," muttered Haire
+in Sir Brook's ear, and with a significant gesture towards the door.
+
+"Before taking my leave, my Lord, would it be too great a liberty if I
+beg to present my personal respects to Miss Lendrick?"
+
+"I will inform her of your wish, sir," said the Judge, rising, and
+ringing the bell. After a pause of some minutes, in which a perfect
+silence was maintained by all, the servant returned to say, "Miss
+Lendrick would be happy to see Sir Brook."
+
+"I hope, sir," said the Chief Baron, as he accompanied him to the door,
+"I have no need to request that no portion of what has passed here
+to-day be repeated to my granddaughter."
+
+A haughty bow of assent was all the reply.
+
+"I make my advances to her heart," said the Judge, with a tone of more
+feeling in his voice, "through many difficulties. Let these not be
+increased to me,--let her not think me unmindful of my own."
+
+"Give her no reason to think so, my Lord, and you may feel very
+indifferent to the chance words of a passing acquaintance."
+
+"For the third time to-day, sir, have you dared to sit in judgment over
+my behavior to my family. You cannot plead want of experience of life,
+or want of converse with men, to excuse this audacity. I must regard
+your intrusion, therefore, as a settled project to insult me. I accept
+no apologies, sir," said the old man, with a haughty wave of his hand,
+while his eyes glittered with passion. "I only ask, and I hope I ask as
+a right, that I may not be outraged under my own roof. Take your next
+opportunity to offend me when I may not be hampered by the character
+of your host. Come down into the open arena, and see how proud you will
+feel at the issue of the encounter." He rang the bell violently as he
+spoke, and continued to ring it till the servant came.
+
+"Accompany this gentleman to the gate," said he to the man.
+
+Not a change came over Sir Brook's face during the delivery of this
+speech; and as he bowed reverentially and withdrew, his manner was all
+that courtesy could desire.
+
+"I see he's not going to visit Lucy," muttered Haire, as Sir Brook
+passed the window.
+
+"I should think not, sir. There are few men would like to linger where
+they have been so ingloriously defeated." He walked the room with a
+proud defiant look for some minutes, and then, sinking faintly into a
+chair, said, in a weak, tremulous tone, "Haire, these trials are too
+much for me. It is a cruel aggravation of the ills of old age to have a
+heart and a brain alive to the finest sense of injury."
+
+Haire muttered something like concurrence.
+
+"What is it you say, sir? Speak out," cried the Judge.
+
+"I was saying," muttered the other, "I wish they would not
+provoke--would not irritate you; that people ought to see the state your
+nerves are in, and should use a little discretion how they contradict
+and oppose you." The bland smile of the Chief-Justice, and an assenting
+gesture of his hand, emboldened Haire to continue, and he went on: "I
+have always said, Keep away such as excite him; his condition is not one
+to be bettered by passionate outbreaks. Calm him, humor him."
+
+"What a pearl above price is a friend endowed with discretion! Leave me,
+Haire, to think over your nice words. I would like to ponder them alone
+and to myself. I 'll send for you by and by."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. COMING-HOME THOUGHTS
+
+Had a mere stranger been a guest on that Sunday when the Chief
+Baron entertained at dinner Lady Lendrick, the Sewells, and his old
+schoolfellow Haire, he might have gone away under the impression that he
+had passed an evening in the midst of a happy and united family.
+
+Nothing could be more perfect than the blending of courtesy and
+familiarity. The old Chief himself was in his best of humors, which
+means that, with the high polish of a past age, its deference, and its
+homage, he combined all the readiness and epigrammatic smartness of a
+later period. Lady Lendrick was bland, courteous, and attentive. Colonel
+Sewell took the part assigned him by his host, alternate talker and
+listener; and Mrs. Sewell herself displayed, with true woman's wit, that
+she knew how to fall in with the Judge's humor, as though she had known
+him for years, and that, in each sally of his wit and each flash of
+his repartee he was but reviving memories of such displays in long-past
+years. As for Haire, no enchantment could be more complete; he found
+himself not only listened to but appealed to. The Chief asked him to
+correct him about some fact or other of recent history; he applied
+to him to relate some incident in a trial he had taken part in; and,
+greatest triumph of all, he was called on to decide some question about
+the dressing of Mrs. Sewell's hair, his award being accepted as the last
+judgment of connoisseurship.
+
+Lucy talked little, but seemed interested by all around her. It was
+a bit of high-life comedy, really amusing, and she had that mere
+suspicion--it was no more--of the honesty and loyalty of the talkers
+to give an added significance to all she saw and heard. This slight
+distrust, however, gave way, when Mrs. Sewell sat down beside her in the
+drawing-room, and talked to her of her father. Oh, how well she appeared
+to know him; how truly she read the guileless simplicity of his noble
+nature; how she distinguished--it was not all who did so--between his
+timid reserve and pride; how she saw that what savored of haughtiness
+was in reality an excess of humility shrouding itself from notice; how
+she dwelt on his love for children, and the instantaneous affection
+he inspired in them towards himself. Last of all, how she won the poor
+girl's heart as she said, "It will never do to leave him there, Lucy; we
+must have him here, at home with us. I think you may intrust it to me; I
+generally find my way in these sort of things."
+
+Lucy could have fallen at her feet with gratitude as she heard these
+words, and she pressed her hand to her lips and kissed it fervently.
+"Why isn't your brother here? Is he not in Dublin?" asked Mrs. Sewell,
+suddenly.
+
+"Yes, he is in town," stammered out Lucy, "but grandpapa scarcely knows
+him, and when they did meet, it was most unfortunate. I 'll tell you all
+about it another time."
+
+"We have many confidences to make each other," said Mrs. Sewell, with
+a sigh so full of sorrow that Lucy instinctively pressed her hand with
+warmth, as though to imply her trustfulness would, not be ill deposited.
+
+At last came the hour of leave-taking, and the Judge accompanied his
+guests to the door, and even bareheaded handed Lady Lendrick to her
+carriage. To each, as they said "Good-night," he had some little
+appropriate speech,--a word or two of gracious compliment, uttered with
+all his courtesy.
+
+"I call this little dinner a success, Lucy," said he, as he stood to say
+"Good-night" on the stairs. "Lady Lendrick was unusually amiable, and
+her daughter-in-law is beyond praise."
+
+"She is indeed charming," said Lucy, fervently.
+
+"I found the Colonel also agreeable,--less dictatorial than men of
+his class generally are. I suspect we shall get on well together with
+further acquaintance; but, as Haire said, I was myself to-night, and
+would have struck sparks out of the dullest rock, so that I must not
+impute to him what may only have been the reflex of myself. Ah, dear!
+there was a time when these exertions were the healthful stimulants
+of my life; now they only weary and excite,--good-night, dear child,
+good-night."
+
+As Lady Lendrick and her party drove homeward, not a word was uttered
+for some minutes after they had taken their seats. It was not till after
+they had passed out of the grounds, and gained the high-road, that she
+herself broke silence. "Well, Dudley," said she at last, "is he like my
+description? Was my portrait too highly colored?"
+
+"Quite the reverse. It was a faint weak sketch of the great original.
+In all my life I never met such inordinate vanity and such overweening
+pretension. I give him the palm as the most conceited man and the
+greatest bore in Christendom."
+
+"Do you wonder now if I could n't live with him?" asked she, half
+triumphantly.
+
+"I 'll not go that far. I think I could live with him if I saw my way to
+any advantage by it."
+
+"I'm certain you could not! The very things you now reprobate are the
+few endurable traits about him. It is in the resources of his intense
+conceit he finds whatever renders him pleasant and agreeable. I wish you
+saw his other humor."
+
+"I can imagine it may not be all that one would desire; but still--"
+
+"It comes well from you to talk of submitting and yielding," burst out
+Lady Lendrick. "I certainly have not yet detected these traits in your
+character; and I tell you frankly, you and Sir William could not live a
+week under the same roof together. Don't you agree with me, Lucy?"
+
+"What should she know about it?" said he, fiercely; and before she could
+reply, "I don't suspect she knows a great deal about me,--she knows
+nothing at all about _him_."
+
+"Well, would you like to live with him yourself, Lucy?" asked Lady
+Lendrick.
+
+"I don't say I 'd _like_ it, but I think it might be done," said she,
+faintly, and scarcely raising her eyes as she spoke.
+
+"Of course, then, my intractable temper is the cause of all our
+incompatibility; my only consolation is that I have a son and a
+daughter-in-law so charmingly endowed that their virtues are more than
+enough to outweigh my faults."
+
+"What I say is this," said the Colonel, sternly,--"I think the man is a
+bore or a bully, but that he need n't be both if one does n't like
+it. Now I 'd consent to be bored, to escape being bullied, which is
+precisely the reverse of what you appear to have done."
+
+"I am charmed with the perspicuity you display. I hope, Lucy, that it
+tends to the happiness of your married life to have a husband so well
+able to read character."
+
+Apparently this was a double-headed shot, for neither spoke for several
+minutes.
+
+"I declare I almost wish he would put you to the test," said Lady
+Lendrick. "I mean, I wish he'd ask you to the Priory."
+
+"I fancy it is what he means to do," said Mrs. Sewell, in the same
+low tone,--"at least he came to me when I was standing in the small
+drawing-room, and said, 'How would you endure the quiet stillness and
+uniformity of such a life as I lead here? Would its dulness overpower
+you?'"
+
+"Of course, you said it would be paradise," broke in her Ladyship; "you
+hinted all about your own resources, and such-like."
+
+"She did no such thing; she took the pathetic line, put her handkerchief
+to her eyes, and implied how she would love it, as a refuge from the
+cruel treatment of a bad husband,--eh, am I right?" Harsh and insolent
+as the words were, the accents in which they were uttered were far more
+so. "Out with it, Madam! was it not something like that you said?"
+
+"No," said she, gently. "I told Sir William I was supremely happy,
+blessed in every accident and every relation of my life, and that
+hitherto I had never seen the spot which could not suit the glad temper
+of my heart."
+
+"You keep the glad temper confoundedly to yourself then," burst he out.
+"I wish you were not such a niggard of it."
+
+"Dudley, Dudley, I say," cried Lady Lendrick, in a tone of reproof.
+
+"I have learned not to mind these amenities," said Mrs. Sewell, in a
+quiet voice, "and I am only surprised that Colonel Sewell thinks it
+worth while to continue them."
+
+"If it be your intention to become Sir William's guest, I must say such
+habits will require to be amended," said her Ladyship, gravely.
+
+"So they shall, mother. Your accomplished and amiable husband, as you
+once called him in a letter to me, shall only see us in our turtle
+moods, and never be suffered to approach our cage save when we are
+billing and cooing."
+
+The look of aversion he threw at his wife as he spoke was something
+that words cannot convey; and though she never raised eyes to meet it, a
+sickly pallor crept over her cheek as the blight fell on her.
+
+"I am to call on him to-morrow, by appointment. I wish he had not said
+twelve. One has not had his coffee by twelve; but as he said, 'I hope
+that will not be too early for you,' I felt it better policy to reply,
+'By no means;' and so I must start as if for a journey."
+
+"What does he mean by asking you to come at that hour? Have you any
+notion what his business is?"
+
+"Not the least. We were in the hall. I was putting on my coat, when he
+suddenly turned round and asked me if I could without inconvenience drop
+in about twelve."
+
+"I wonder what it can be for."
+
+"I'll tell you what I hope it may not be for! I hope it may not be to
+show me his conservatory, or his Horatian garden, as he pedantically
+called it, or his fish-ponds. If so, I think I 'll invite him some
+fine morning to turn over all my protested bills, and the various writs
+issued against me. Bore for Bore, I suspect we shall come out of the
+encounter pretty equal."
+
+"He has some rare gems. I'd not wonder if it was to get you to select a
+present for Lucy."
+
+"If I thought so, I'd take a jeweller with me, as though my friend, to
+give me a hint as to the value."
+
+"He admires you greatly, Lucy; he told me so as he took me downstairs."
+
+"She has immense success with men of that age: nothing over eighty seems
+able to resist her."
+
+This time she raised her eyes, and they met his, not with their former
+expression, but full of defiance, and of an insolent meaning, so that
+after a moment he turned away his gaze, and with a seeming struggle
+looked abashed and ashamed. "The first change I will ask you to make in
+that house," said Lady Lendrick, who had noticed this by-play, "if ever
+you become its inmates, will be to dismiss that tiresome old hanger-on,
+Mr. Haire. I abhor him."
+
+"My first reform will be in the sherry,--to get rid of that vile sugary
+compound of horrid nastiness he gives you After soup. The next will be
+the long-tailed black coach-horses. I don't think a man need celebrate
+his own funeral every time he goes out for a drive."
+
+"Haire," resumed Lady Lendrick, in a tone of severity, meant, perhaps,
+to repress all banter on a serious subject,--"Haire not only supplies
+food to his vanity, but stimulates his conceit by little daily stories
+of what the world says of him. I wish he would listen to _me_ on that
+subject,--I wish he would take _my_ version of his place in popular
+estimation."
+
+"I opine that the granddaughter should be got rid of," said the Colonel.
+
+"She is a fool,--only a fool," said Lady Lendrick.
+
+"I don't think her a fool," said Mrs. Sewell, slowly.
+
+"I don't exactly mean so much; but that she has no knowledge of life,
+and knows nothing whatever of the position she is placed in, nor how to
+profit by it."
+
+"I'd not even go that far," said Mrs. Sewell, in the same quiet tone.
+
+"Don't pay too much attention to _that_," said the Colonel to his
+mother. "It's one of her ways always to see something in every one that
+nobody else has discovered."
+
+"I made that mistake once too often for my own welfare," said she, in a
+voice only audible to his ear.
+
+"She tells me, mother, that she made that same mistake once too often
+for her own welfare; which being interpreted, means in taking me for her
+husband,--a civil speech to make a man in presence of his mother."
+
+"I begin to think that politeness is not the quality any of us are eager
+about," said Lady Lendrick; "and I must say I am not at all sorry that
+the drive is over."
+
+"If I had been permitted to smoke, you'd not have been distressed by any
+conversational excesses on my part," said the Colonel.
+
+"I shall know better another time, Dudley; and possibly-it would be
+as well to be suffocated with tobacco as half-choked with anger. Thank
+heaven we are at the door!"
+
+"May I take your horses as far as the Club?" asked Sewell, as he handed
+her out.
+
+"Yes, but not to wait. You kept them on Tuesday night till past four
+o'clock."
+
+"On second thought, I'll walk," said he, turning away. "Good-night;"
+and leaving his wife to be assisted down the steps by the footman, he
+lighted his cigar, and walked away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING
+
+The little lodging occupied by Sir Brook and young Lendrick was in a
+not very distinguished suburb near Cullen's Wood. It was in a small
+one-storied cottage, whose rickety gate bore the inscription "Avoca
+Villa" on a black board, under which, in the form of permanence that
+indicated frequent changes of domicile, were the words, "Furnished
+Apartments, and Board if required." A small enclosure, with three
+hollyhocks in a raised mound in the centre, and a luxurious crop of
+nettles around, served as garden: a narrow path of very rough shingle
+conducted to the door.
+
+The rooms within were very small, low, and meanly furnished; they
+bespoke both poverty and neglect; and while the broken windows,
+the cobwebbed ceiling, and the unwashed floor all indicated that no
+attention was bestowed on comfort or even decency, over the fireplace,
+in a large black frame, was a painting representing the genealogical
+tree of the house of the proprietor, Daniel O'Reardon, Esquire, the
+lineal descendant of Frenok-Dhubh-na-Bochlish O'Reardon, who was King of
+West Carbarry, a.d. 703, and who, though at present only a doorkeeper in
+H. M. Court of Exchequer, had royal blood in his veins, and very kingly
+thoughts in his head.
+
+If a cruel destiny compelled Mr. O'Reardon to serve the Saxon, he "took
+it out" in a most hearty hatred of his patron. He denounced him when he
+talked, and he reviled him when he sang. He treasured up paragraphs of
+all the atrocities of the English press, and he revelled in the severe
+strictures which the Irish papers bestowed on them. So far as hating
+went, he was a true patriot.
+
+If some people opined that Mr. O'Reardon's political opinions rather
+partook of what was in vogue some sixty-odd years ago than what
+characterized a time nearer our own day, there were others, less
+generous critics, who scrupled not to say that he was a paid spy of the
+Government, and that all the secret organization of treason--all the
+mysterious plotting of rebellion that seems never to die completely
+out in Ireland--were known to and reported by this man to the Castle.
+Certain it was that he lived in a way his humble salary at the Four
+Courts could not have met, and indulged in convivial excesses far beyond
+the reach of his small income.
+
+When Sir Brook and Tom Lendrick became his lodgers, he speedily saw that
+they belonged to a class far above what usually resorted to his humble
+house. However studiously simple they might be in all their demands,
+they were unmistakably gentlemen; and this fact, coupled with their
+evident want of all employment or occupation, considerably puzzled Mr.
+O'Reardon, and set him a-thinking what they could be, who they were,
+and, as he phrased it, "what they were at." No letters came for them,
+nor, as they themselves gave no names, was there any means of tracing
+their address; and to his oft-insinuated request, "If any one asks
+for you, sir, by what name will I be able to answer?" came the same
+invariable "No one will call;" and thus was Mr. O'Reardon reduced
+to designate them to his wife as the "old chap" and the "young
+one,"--titles which Sir Brook and Tom more than once overheard through
+the frail partitions of the ill-built house.
+
+It is not impossible that O'Reardon's peculiar habits and line of life
+disposed him to attach a greater significance to the seeming mystery
+that surrounded his lodgers than others might have ascribed; it is
+probable that custom had led him to suspect everything that was in any
+way suspicious. These men draw many a cover where there is no fox, but
+they rarely pass a gorse thicket and leave one undetected. His lodgers
+thus became to him a study. Had he been a man of leisure, he would have
+devoted the whole of it to their service; he would have dogged their
+steps, learned their haunts, and watched their acquaintances,--if
+they had any. Sunday was, however, his one free day, and by some
+inconceivable perversity they usually spent the entire of it at home.
+
+The few books they possessed bore no names, some of them were in foreign
+languages, and increased thereby Mr. O'Reardon's suspicious distrust;
+but none gave any clew to their owners. There was another reason for his
+eagerness and anxiety; for a long time back Ireland had been generally
+in a condition of comparative quiet and prosperity; there was less
+of distress, and, consequently, less of outrage. The people seemed at
+length to rely more upon themselves and their own industry than on
+the specious promises of trading politicians, and Mr. O'Reardon, whose
+functions, I fear, were not above reproach in the matter of secret
+information, began to fear lest some fine morning he might be told his
+occupation was gone, and that his employers no longer needed the fine
+intelligence that could smell treason, even by a sniff; he must, he
+said, do something to revive the memory of his order, or the chance was
+it would be extinguished forever.
+
+He had to choose between denouncing them as French emissaries or
+American sympathizers. A novel of Balzac's that lay on the table decided
+for the former, for he knew enough to be aware it was in French; and
+fortified with this fact, he proceeded to draw up his indictment for the
+Castle.
+
+It was, it must be confessed, a very meagre document; it contained
+little beyond the writer's own suspicions. Two men who were poor enough
+to live in Avoca Villa, and yet rich enough to do nothing for their
+livelihood, who gave no names, went out at unseasonable hours, and
+understood French, ought to be dangerous, and required to be watched,
+and therefore he gave an accurate description of their general
+appearance, age, and dress, at the office of the Private Secretary, and
+asked for his "instructions" in consequence.
+
+Mr. O'Reardon was not a bad portrait-painter with his pen, and in
+the case of Sir Brook there were peculiarities enough to make even
+a caricature a resemblance; his tall narrow head, his long drooping
+moustache, his massive gray eyebrows, his look of stern dignity, would
+have marked him, even without the singularities of dress which recalled
+the fashions of fifty years before.
+
+Little, indeed, did the old man suspect that his high-collared coat and
+bell-shaped hat were subjecting him to grave doubts upon his loyalty.
+Little did he think, as he sauntered at evening along the green lanes
+in this retired neighborhood, that his thoughts ought to have been on
+treason and bloodshed.
+
+He had come to the little lodging, it is true, for privacy. After his
+failure in that memorable interview with Sir William Lendrick, he had
+determined that he would not either importune the Viceroy for place, or
+would he be in any way the means of complicating the question between
+the Government and the Chief Baron by exciting the Lord-Lieutenant's
+interest in his behalf.
+
+"We must change our lodging, Tom," said he, when he came home on that
+night. "I am desirous that, for the few days we remain here, none should
+trace nor discover us. I will not accept what are called compensations,
+nor will I live on here to be either a burden or a reproach to men who
+were once only my equals."
+
+"You found my worthy grandfather somewhat less tractable than you
+thought for, sir?" asked Tom.
+
+"He was very fiery and very haughty; but on the whole, there was much
+that I liked in him. Such vitality in a man of his years is in itself a
+grand quality, and even in its aggressiveness suggests much to regard.
+He refused to hear of me for the vacant office, and he would not accept
+_you_."
+
+"How did he take your proposal to aid us by a loan?"
+
+"I never made it. The terms we found ourselves on after half an hour's
+discussion of other matters rendered such a project impossible."
+
+"And Lucy, how did she behave through it all?"
+
+"She was not there; I did not see her."
+
+"So that it turned out as I predicted,--a mere meeting to exchange
+amenities."
+
+"The amenities were not many, Tom; and I doubt much if your grandfather
+will treasure up any very delightful recollections of my acquaintance."
+
+"I'd like to see the man, woman, or child," burst out Tom, "who ever got
+out of his cage without a scratch. I don't believe that Europe contains
+his equal for irascibility."
+
+"Don't dwell on these views of life," said Sir Brook, almost sternly.
+"You, nor I, know very little what are the sources of those intemperate
+outbreaks we so often complain of,--what sore trials are ulcerating the
+nature, what agonizing maladies, what secret terrors, what visions of
+impending misery; least of all do we know or take count of the fact that
+it is out of these high-strung temperaments we obtain those thrilling
+notes of human passion and tenderness coarser natures never attain to.
+Let us bear with a passing discord in the instrument whose cadences can
+move us to very ecstasy."
+
+Tom hung his head in silence, but he certainly did not seem convinced.
+Sir Brook quietly resumed: "How often have I told you that the world
+has more good than bad in it,--yes, and what's more, that as we go on
+in life this conviction strengthens in us, and that our best experiences
+are based on getting rid of our disbeliefs. Hear what happened me this
+morning. You know that for some days back I have been negotiating to
+raise a small loan of four hundred pounds to take us to Sardinia and
+start our mine. Mr. Waring, who was to have lent me this sum on the
+security of the mine itself, took it into his head to hesitate at the
+last hour, and inserted an additional clause that I should insure my
+life in his behalf.
+
+"I was disconcerted, of course, by this,--so much so, that had I not
+bought a variety of tools and implements on trust, I believe I would
+have relinquished the bargain and tried elsewhere. It was, however, too
+late for this; I was driven to accept his terms, and, accredited with a
+printed formula from an insurance office, I waited on the doctor who was
+to examine me.
+
+"A very brief investigation satisfied him that I was not seaworthy; he
+discovered I know not what about the valves of my heart, that implied
+mischief, and after 'percussing' me, as he called it, and placing his
+ear to my chest, he said, 'I regret to say, sir, that I cannot pronounce
+you insurable.'
+
+"I could have told him that I came of a long-lived race on either side;
+that during my life I had scarcely known an illness, that I had borne
+the worst climates without injury, and such-like,--but I forbore; I
+had too much deference for his station and his acquirements to set
+my judgment against them, and I arose to take my leave. It is just
+possible, though I cannot say I felt it, that his announcement might
+have affected me; at all events, the disappointment did so, and I was
+terrified about the difficulties in which I saw myself involved. I
+became suddenly sick, and I asked for a glass of water; before it came I
+had fainted, a thing that never in my whole life had befallen me.
+When, I rallied, he led me to talk of my usual habits and pursuits,
+and gradually brought me to the subject which had led me-to his house.
+'What!' said he, 'ask for any security beyond the property itself! It is
+absurd; Waring is always-doing these things. Let me advance this money.
+I know a great deal more about you, Sir Brook, than you think; my friend
+Dr. Lendrick has spoken much of you, and of all your kindness to his
+son; and though you may not have heard of my name,--Beattie,--I am very
+familiar with yours.'
+
+"In a word, Tom, he advanced the money. It is now in that writing-desk;
+and I have--I feel it--a friend the-more in the world. As I left his
+door, I could not help saying to myself, What signify a few days more or
+less of life, so long as such generous traits as this follow one to the
+last? He made me a happier man by his noble trust in me than if he had
+declared me a miracle of strength and vigor. Who is that looking in at
+the window, Tom? It's the second time I have seen a face there."
+
+Tom started to his feet and hurried to the door. There was, however, no
+one there; and the little lane was silent and deserted. He stopped a few
+minutes to listen, but not a footfall could be heard, and he returned to
+the room believing it must have been a mere illusion.
+
+"Let us light candles, Tom, and have out our maps. I want to see whether
+Marseilles will not be our best and cheapest route to the island."
+
+They were soon poring eagerly over the opened map, Sir Brook carefully
+studying all the available modes of travel; while Tom, be it owned, let
+his eyes wander from land to land, till following out the Danube to the
+Black Sea, he crossed over and stretched away into the mountain gorges
+of Circassia, where Schamyl and his brave followers were then fighting
+for liberty. For maps, like the lands they picture, never offer to
+two minds kindred thoughts; each follows out in space the hopes and
+ambitions that his heart is charged with; and where one reads wars
+and battle-fields, another but sees pastoral pleasures and a tranquil
+existence,--home and home-happiness.
+
+"Yes, Tom; here I have it. These coasting-craft, whose sailing-lines
+are marked here, will take us and our traps to Cagliari for a mere
+trifle,--here is the route."
+
+As the young man bent over the map, the door behind opened, and a
+stranger entered. "So I have found you, Fossbrooke!" cried he, "though
+they insisted you had left Ireland ten days ago."
+
+"Mercy on me! Lord Wilmington!" said Sir Brook, as he shaded his eyes to
+stare at him. "What could have brought you here?"
+
+"I 'll tell you," said he, dropping his voice. "I read a description so
+very like you in the secret report this morning, that I sent my servant
+Curtis, who knows you well, to see if it was not yourself; when he
+came back to me--for I waited for him at the end of the lane--with the
+assurance that I was right, I came on here. I must tell you that I took
+the precaution to have your landlord detained, as if for examination, at
+the Under-Secretary's office; and he is the only one here who knows me.
+Mr. Lendrick, I hope you have not forgotten me? We met some months ago
+on the Shannon."
+
+"What can I offer you?" said Sir Brook. "Shall it be tea? We were just
+going to have it."
+
+"I 'll take whatever you like to give me; but let us profit by the few
+moments I can stay. Tell me how was it you failed with the Chief Baron?"
+
+"He wouldn't have me; that's all. He maintains his right to an undivided
+patronage, and will accept of no dictation."
+
+"Will he accept of your friend here? He has strong claims on him."
+
+"As little as myself, my Lord; he grew eloquent on his public virtue,
+and of course became hopeless."
+
+"Will he retire and let us compensate him?"
+
+"I believe not. He thinks the country has a vested interest in his
+capacity, and as he cannot be replaced, he has no right to retire.''
+
+"He may make almost his own terms with us, Fossbrooke," said
+the Viceroy. "We want to get rid of himself and an intractable
+Solicitor-General together. Will you try what can be done?"
+
+"Not I, my Lord. I have made my first and last advances in that
+quarter."
+
+"And yet I believe you are our last chance. He told Pemberton yesterday
+you were the one man of ability that ever called on him with a message
+from a Viceroy."
+
+"Let us leave him undisturbed in his illusion, my Lord."
+
+"I 'd say, let us profit by it, Fossbrooke. I have been in search of you
+these eight days, to beg you would take the negotiation in hand. Come,
+Mr. Lendrick, you are interested in this; assist me in persuading Sir
+Brook to accept this charge. If he will undertake the mission, I am
+ready to give him ample powers to treat."
+
+"I suspect, my Lord," said Tom, "you do not know my grandfather. He is
+not a very manageable person to deal with."
+
+"It is for that reason I want to place him in the hands of my old friend
+here."
+
+"No, no, my Lord; it is quite hopeless. Had we never met, I might
+have come before him with some chance of success; but I have already
+prejudiced myself in his eyes, and our one interview was not very
+gratifying to either of us."
+
+"I'll not give in, Fossbrooke, even though I am well aware I can do
+nothing to requite the service I ask of you."
+
+"We leave Ireland to-morrow evening. We have a project which requires
+our presence in the island of Sardinia. We are about to make our
+fortunes, my Lord, and I 'm sure you 're not the man to throw any
+obstacle in the way."
+
+"Give me half an hour of your morning, Fossbrooke; half an hour will
+suffice. Drive out to the Priory; see the Chief Baron; tell him I
+intrusted the negotiation to you, as at once more delicate to each
+of us. You are disconnected with all party ties here. Say it is not a
+question of advancing this man or that,--that we well know how
+inferior must any successor be to himself, but that certain changes
+are all-essential to us. We have not--I may tell you in confidence--the
+right man as our law adviser in the House; and add, 'It is a moment
+to make your own terms; write them down and you shall have your reply
+within an hour,--a favorable one I may almost pledge myself it will be.
+At all events, every detail of the meeting is strictly between us, and
+on honor.' Come, now, Fossbrooke; do this for me as the greatest service
+I could entreat of you."
+
+"I cannot refuse you any longer. I will go. I only premise that I am to
+limit myself strictly to the statement you shall desire me to repeat. I
+know nothing of the case; and I cannot be its advocate."
+
+"Just so. Give me your card. I will merely write these words,--'See Sir
+Brook for me.--Wilmington.' Our object is his resignation, and we are
+prepared to pay handsomely for it. Now, a word with you, Mr. Lendrick. I
+heard most honorable mention of you yesterday from the vice-provost; he
+tells me that your college career was a triumph so long as you liked
+it, and that you have abilities for any walk in life. Why not continue,
+then, on so successful a path? Why not remain, take out your degree, and
+emulate that distinguished relative who has thrown such lustre on your
+family?"
+
+"First of all, my Lord, you have heard me much overrated. I am not at
+all the man these gentlemen deem me; secondly, if I were, I 'd rather
+bring my abilities to any pursuit my friend here could suggest. I 'd
+rather be _his_ companion than be my grandfather's rival. You have heard
+what he said awhile ago,--we are going to seek our fortune."
+
+"He said to make it," said Lord Wilmington, with a smile.
+
+"Be it so, my Lord. _I 'll_ seek, and _he 'll_ find; at all events, I
+shall be his companion; and I'm a duller dog than I think myself if I do
+not manage to be the better of it."
+
+"You are not the only one he has fascinated," said the Viceroy, in a
+whisper. "I 'm not sure I 'd disenchant you if I had the power."
+
+"Must I positively undertake this negotiation?" asked Fossbrooke, with a
+look of entreaty.
+
+"You must"
+
+"I know I shall fail."
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"Well, as Lady Macbeth says, if we fail _we fail_; and though murdering
+a king be an easier thing than muzzling a Chief Baron,--here goes."
+
+As he said this, the door was gently moved, and a head protruded into
+the room.
+
+"Who is that?" cried Tom, springing rapidly towards the door; but
+all was noiseless and quiet, and no one to be seen. "I believe we are
+watched here," said he, coming back into the room.
+
+"Good-night, then. Let me have your report as early as may be,
+Fossbrooke. Good-night."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. A MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+
+The morning after this interview was that on which the Chief Baron had
+invited Colonel Sewell to inspect his gardens and hothouses,--a promise
+of pleasure which, it is but fair to own, the Colonel regarded with no
+extravagant delight. To his thinking, the old Judge was an insupportable
+bore. His courtesy, his smartness, his anecdotes, his reminiscences were
+all Boredom. He was only endurable when by the excess of his conceit he
+made himself ridiculous. Then alone did Sewell relish his company; for
+he belonged to that class of men, and it is a class, who feel their
+highest enjoyment whenever they witness any trait in human nature that
+serves to disparage its dignity or tarnish its lustre.
+
+That a man of unquestionable ability and power like the Chief
+Baron should render himself absurd through his vanity, was a great
+compensation to such a person as Sewell. To watch the weaknesses and
+note the flaws in a great nature, to treasure up the consolation that,
+after all, these "high intelligences" occasionally make precious fools
+of themselves, are very congenial pastimes to small folk. Perhaps,
+indeed, they are the sole features of such men they are able to
+appreciate, and, like certain reptiles, they never venture to bite save
+where corruption has preceded them.
+
+Nothing in his manner betrayed this tendency; he was polished and
+courteous to a degree. A very critical eye might have detected in
+his bearing that he had been long a subordinate. His deference was a
+little--a very little--overstrained; he listened with a slight tinge
+of over-attention; and in his humility as he heard an order, and his
+activity as he obeyed it, you could read at once the aide-decamp in
+waiting.
+
+It is not necessary to remind the reader that all this lacquer of good
+breeding covered a very coarse and vulgar nature. In manner he was
+charming,--his approach, his address, his conversation were all perfect;
+he knew well when to be silent,--when to concur by a smile with what he
+was not expected to confirm by a word,--when to seem suddenly confronted
+with a new conviction, and how to yield assent as though coerced to
+what he would rather have resisted. In a word, he was perfect in all the
+training of those superb poodles who fetch and carry for their masters,
+that they may have the recompense of snarling at all the rest of
+mankind.
+
+As there are heaven-born doctors, lawyers, divines, and engineers, so
+are there men specially created for the antechamber, and Sewell was one
+of them.
+
+The old Judge had given orders for a liberal breakfast. He deemed a
+soldier's appetite would be a hearty one, and he meant to treat him
+hospitably. The table was therefore very generously spread, and
+Sewell looked approvingly at the fare, and ventured on a few words of
+compliment on the ample preparations before him.
+
+"It is the only real breakfast-table I have seen since I left Calcutta,"
+said he, smiling graciously.
+
+"You do me honor, sir," replied the old man, who was not quite sure
+whether or not he felt pleased to be complimented on a mere domestic
+incident.
+
+Sewell saw the hitch at once, and resumed: "I remember an observation
+Lord Commorton made me when I joined his staff in India. I happened to
+make some remark on a breakfast set out pretty much like this, and he
+said, 'Bear in mind, Captain Sewell, that when a man who holds a high
+function sits down to a well-served breakfast, it means that he has
+already completed the really important work of the day. The full head
+means the empty stomach.'"
+
+"His Excellency was right, sir; had he always been inspired with
+sentiments of equal wisdom, we should never have been involved in that
+unhappy Cantankankarabad war."
+
+"It was a very disastrous affair, indeed," sighed Sewell; "I was through
+the whole of it."
+
+"When I first heard of the project," continued the Judge, "I remarked
+to a friend who was with me,--one of the leading men at the Bar,--'This
+campaign will tarnish our arms, and imperil our hold on India. The
+hill-tribes are eminently warlike, and however specious in their
+promises to us, their fidelity to their chiefs has never been shaken.'"
+
+"If your judgment had been listened to, it would have saved us a heavy
+reverse, and saved me a very painful wound; both bones were fractured
+here," said Sewell, showing his wrist.
+
+The Chief Baron scarcely deigned a glance at the cicatrix; he was high
+above such puny considerations. He was at that moment Governor-General
+of India and Prime Minister of England together. He was legislating for
+hundreds of millions of dark-skins, and preparing his explanations of
+his policy for the pale faces at home.
+
+"'Mark my words, Haire,' said I," continued the Judge, with increased
+pomposity of manner, "'this is the beginning of insurrection in India.'
+We have a maxim in law, Colonel Sewell, Like case, like rule. So was it
+there. May I help you to this curry?"
+
+"I declare, my Lord, I was beginning to forget how hungry I was. Shall I
+be deemed impertinent if I ask how you obtained your marvellous--for it
+is marvellous--knowledge of India?"
+
+"Just as I know the Japanese constitution; just as I know Central
+Africa; just as I know, and was able to quote some time back, that
+curious chapter of the Brehon laws on substitutes in penal cases. My
+rule of life has been, never to pass a day without increasing the store
+of my acquirements."
+
+"And all this with the weighty charge and labor of your high office."
+
+"Yes, sir; I have been eighteen years on the Bench. I have delivered
+in that time some judgments which have come to be deemed amongst the
+highest principles of British law. I have contributed largely to the
+periodical literature of the time. In a series of papers--you may not
+have heard of them--signed 'Icon,' in the 'Lawyer's Treasury of Useful
+Facts,' I have defended the Bar against the aggressive violence of the
+Legislature, I hope it is not too much to say, triumphantly."
+
+"I remember Judge Beale, our Indian Chief-Justice, referring to those
+papers as the most splendid statement of the position and claims of the
+barrister in Great Britain."
+
+"Beale was an ass, sir; his law was a shade below his logic,--both were
+pitiable."
+
+"Indeed?--yes, a little more gravy. Is your cook a Proven�al? that
+omelette would seem to say so."
+
+"My cook is a woman, and an Irishwoman, sir. She came to me from Lord
+Manners, and, I need not say, with the worst traditions of her art,
+which, under Lady Lendrick's training, attained almost to the dignity of
+poisoning."
+
+Sewell could not restrain himself any longer, but laughed out at this
+sudden outburst. The old Judge was, however, pleased to accept the
+emotion as complimentary; he smiled and went on: "I recognized her
+aptitude, and resolved to train her, and to this end I made it a
+practice to detain her every morning after prayers, and read to her
+certain passages from approved authors on cookery, making her experiment
+on the receipts for the servants' hall. We had at first some slight
+cases of illness, but not more serious than colic and violent cramps. In
+the end she was successful, sir, and has become what you see her."
+
+"She would be a _cordon bleu_ in Paris."
+
+"I will take care, sir, that she hears of your approval. Would you not
+like a glass of Maraschino to finish with?"
+
+"I have just tasted your brandy, and it is exquisite."
+
+"I cannot offer you a cigar, Colonel; but you are at liberty to smoke if
+you have one."
+
+"If I might have a stroll in that delicious garden that I see there, I
+could ask nothing better. Ah, my Lord," said he, as they sauntered
+down a richly scented alley, "India has nothing like this,--I doubt if
+Paradise has any better."
+
+"You mean to return to the East?"
+
+"Not if I can help it,--not if an exchange is possible. The fact is,
+my Lord, my dear wife's health makes India impossible so far as she is
+concerned; the children, too, are of the age that requires removal to
+Europe; so that, if I go back, I go back alone." He said this with
+a voice of deep depression, and intending to inspire the sorrow that
+overwhelmed him. The old Judge, however, fancied he had heard of heavier
+calamities in life than living separated from the wife of his bosom;
+he imagined, at least, that with courage and fortitude the deprivation
+might be endured; so he merely twitched the corners of his mouth in
+silence.
+
+The Colonel misread his meaning, and went on: "Aspiring to nothing in
+life beyond a home and home-happiness, it is, of course, a heavy blow
+to me to sacrifice either my career or my comfort. I cannot possibly
+anticipate a return earlier than eight or ten years; and who is to count
+upon eight or ten years in that pestilent climate? Assuredly not a man
+already broken down by wounds and jungle fever!"
+
+The justice of the remark was, perhaps, sufficient for the Chief Baron.
+He paid no attention to its pathetic side, and _so_ did not reply.
+
+Sewell began to lose patience, but he controlled himself, and, after a
+few puffs of his cigar, went on: "If it were not for the children, I 'd
+take the thing easy enough. Half-pay is a beggarly thing, but I 'd
+put up with it. I 'm not a man of expensive tastes. If I can relish
+thoroughly such sumptuous fare as you gave me this morning, I can put up
+with very humble diet. I 'm a regular soldier in that."
+
+"An excellent quality, sir," said the old man, dryly.
+
+"Lucy, of course, would suffer. There are privations which fall very
+heavily on a woman, and a woman, too, who has always been accustomed to
+a good deal of luxury."
+
+The Chief bowed an assent.
+
+"I suppose I might get a depot appointment for a year or two. I might
+also--if I sold out--manage a barrack-mastership, or become an inspector
+of yeomanry, or some such vulgar makeshift; but I own, my Lord, when
+a man has filled the places I have,--held staff appointments,--been a
+private secretary,--discharged high trusts, too, for in Mooraghabad
+I acted as Deputy-Resident for eight months,--it does seem a precious
+come-down to ask to be made a paymaster in a militia regiment, or a
+subaltern in the mounted police."
+
+"Civil life is always open to a man of activity and energy," said the
+Judge, calmly.
+
+"If civil life means a profession, it means the sort of labor a man is
+very unfit for after five-and-thirty. The Church, of course, is open on
+easier terms; but I have scruples about the Church. I really could not
+take orders without I could conscientiously say, This is a walk I feel
+called to."
+
+"An honorable sentiment, sir," was the dry rejoinder.
+
+"So that the end will be, I suppose, one of these days I shall just
+repack my bullock-trunk, and go back to the place from whence I came,
+with the fate that attends such backward journeys!"
+
+The Chief Baron made no remark. He stooped to fasten, a fallen carnation
+to the stick it had been attached to, and then resumed his walk. Sewell
+was so provoked by the sense of failure--for it had been a direct
+assault--that he walked along silent and morose. His patience could
+endure no longer, and he was ready now to resent whatever should annoy
+him.
+
+"Have you any of the requirements, sir, that civil services demand?"
+asked the Judge, after a long pause.
+
+"I take it I have such as every educated gentleman possesses," replied
+Sewell, tartly.
+
+"And what may these be, in your estimation?"
+
+"I can read and write, I know the first three rules of arithmetic, and I
+believe these are about the qualifications that fit a man for a place in
+the Cabinet."
+
+"You are right, sir. With these, and the facility to talk platitudes in
+Parliament, a man may go very far and very high in life. I see that you
+know the world."
+
+Sewell, for a moment, scarcely knew whether to accept the speech as
+irony or approval; but a sidelong glance showed him that the old man's
+face had resumed its expression of mingled insolence and vanity, and
+convinced him that he was now sincere. "The men," said the Judge,
+pompously, "who win their way to high station in these days are either
+the crafty tricksters of party or the gross flatterers of the people;
+and whenever a man of superior mould is discovered, able to leave his
+mark on the age, and capable of making his name a memory, they have
+nothing better to offer him, as their homage, than an entreaty that he
+would resign his office and retire."
+
+"I go with every word you say, my Lord," cried Sewell, with a well-acted
+enthusiasm.
+
+"I want no approval, sir; I can sustain my opinions without a
+following!" A long silence ensued; neither was disposed to speak: at
+last the Judge said,--and he now spoke in a more kindly tone, divested
+alike of passion and of vanity,--"Your friends must see if something
+cannot be done for you, Colonel Sewell. I have little doubt but that
+you have many and warm friends. I speak not of myself; I am but a broken
+reed to depend on. Never was there one with less credit with his party.
+I might go farther, and say, never was there one whose advocacy would
+be more sure to damage a good cause; therefore exclude _me_ in all
+questions of your advancement. If you could obliterate our relationship,
+it might possibly serve you."
+
+"I am too proud of it, my Lord, to think so."
+
+"Well, sir," said he, with a sigh, "it is possibly a thing a man need
+not feel ashamed of; at least I hope as much. But we must take the world
+as it is, and when we want the verdict of public opinion, we must not
+presume to ask for a special jury. What does that servant want? Will you
+have the kindness to ask him whom he is looking for?"
+
+"It is a visitor's card, my Lord," said Sewell, handing it to the old
+man as he spoke.
+
+"There is some writing on it. Do me the favor to read it."
+
+Sewell took the card and read, "See Sir B. for me.--Wilmington. Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke." The last words Sewell spoke in a voice barely above
+a whisper, for a deadly sickness came over him, and he swayed to and fro
+like one about to faint.
+
+"What! does he return to the charge?" cried the old man, fiercely. "The
+Viceroy was a diplomatist once. Might it not have taught him that, after
+a failure, it would be as well to employ another envoy?"
+
+"You have seen this gentleman already, then?" asked Sewell, in a low
+faint tone.
+
+"Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half together,--an hour and half that
+neither of us will easily forget."
+
+"I conjecture, then, that he made no very favorable impression upon you,
+my Lord?"
+
+"Sir, you go too fast. I have said nothing to warrant your surmise; nor
+am I one to be catechised as to the opinions I form of other men. It is
+enough on the present occasion if I say I do not desire to receive Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke, accredited though he be from so high a quarter.
+Will you do me the very great favor"--and now his voice became almost
+insinuating in its tone--"will you so deeply oblige me ate to see him
+for me? Say that I am prevented by the state of my health; that the
+rigorous injunctions of my doctor to avoid all causes of excitement--lay
+stress on excitement--deprive me of the honor of receiving him in
+person; but that _you_--mention our relationship--have been deputed by
+me to hear, and if necessary to convey to me, any communication he
+may have to make. You will take care to impress upon him that if the
+subject-matter of his visit be the same as that so lately discussed
+between ourselves, you will avail yourself of the discretion confided
+to you not to report it to me. That my nerves have not sufficiently
+recovered from the strain of that excitement to return to a topic
+no less full of irritating features than utterly hopeless of
+all accommodation. Mind, sir, that you employ the word as I give
+it,--'accommodation.' It is a Gallicism, but all the better, where one
+desires to be imperative, and yet vague. You have your instructions,
+sir."
+
+"Yes, I think I understand what you desire me to do. My only difficulty
+is to know whether the matters Sir Brook Fossbrooke may bring forward
+be the same as those you discussed together. If I had any clew to these
+topics, I should at once be in a position to say, These are themes I
+must decline to present to the Chief Baron."
+
+"You have no need to know them, sir," said the old man, haughtily. "You
+are in the position of an attesting witness; you have no dealing with
+the body of the document. Ask Sir Brook the question as I have put it,
+and reply as I have dictated."
+
+Sewell stood for a moment in deep thought. Had the old man but known
+over what realms of space his mind was wandering,--what troubles and
+perplexities that brain was encountering,--he might have been more
+patient and more merciful as he gazed on him.
+
+"I don't think, sir, I have confided to you any very difficult or very
+painful task," said the Judge at last.
+
+"Nothing of the kind, my Lord," replied he, quickly; "my anxiety is
+only that I may acquit myself to your perfect satisfaction. I 'll go at
+once."
+
+"You will find me here whenever you want me."
+
+Sewell bowed, and went his way; not straight towards the house, however,
+but into a little copse at the end of the garden, to recover his
+equanimity and collect himself. Of all the disasters that could befall
+him, he knew of none he was less ready to confront than the presence of
+Sir Brook Fossbrooke in the same town with himself. No suspicion ever
+crossed his mind that he would come to Ireland. The very last he had
+heard of him was in New Zealand, where it was said he was about to
+settle. What, too, could be his business with the Chief Baron? Had he
+discovered their relationship, and was he come to denounce and expose
+him? No,--evidently not. The Viceroy's introduction of him could not
+point in this direction, and then the old Judge's own manner negatived
+this conjecture. Had he heard but one of the fifty stories Sir Brook
+could have told of him, there would be no question of suffering him to
+cross his threshold.
+
+"How shall I meet him? how shall I address him?" muttered he again and
+again to himself, as he walked to and fro in a perfect agony of trouble
+and perplexity. With almost any other man in the world, Sewell would
+have relied on his personal qualities to carry him through a passage of
+difficulty. He could assume a temper of complete imperturbability; he
+could put on calm, coldness, deference, if needed, to any extent; he
+could have acted his part--it would have been mere acting--as man of
+honor and man of courage to the life, with any other to confront him but
+Sir Brook.
+
+This, however, was the one man on earth who knew him,--the one man by
+whose mercy he was able to hold up his head and maintain his station;
+and that this one man should now be here! here, within a few yards of
+where he stood!
+
+"I could murder him as easily as I go to meet him," muttered Sewell, as
+he turned towards the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
+
+As Sir Brook sat in the library waiting for the arrival of the Chief
+Baron, Lucy Lendrick came in to look for a book she had been reading.
+"Only think, sir," said she, flushing deeply with joy and astonishment
+together,--"to find you here! What a delightful surprise!"
+
+"I have come, my dear child," said he, gravely, "to speak with Sir
+William on a matter of some importance; and evidently he is not aware
+that my moments are precious, for I have been here above half an hour
+alone."
+
+"But now that I am with you," said she, coquettishly, "you 'll surely
+not be so churlish of your time, will you?"
+
+"There is no churlishness, my darling Lucy, in honest thrift. I
+have nothing to give away." The deep sadness of his voice showed how
+intensely his words were charged with a stronger significance. "We are
+off to-night."
+
+"To-night!" cried she, eagerly.
+
+"Yes, Lucy. It's no great banishment,--only to an island in the
+Mediterranean, and Tom came up here with me in the vague, very vague
+hope he might see you. I left him in the shrubbery near the gate, for he
+would not consent to come farther."
+
+"I 'll go to him at once. We shall meet again," said she, as she opened
+the sash-door and hastened down the lawn at speed.
+
+After another wait of full a quarter of an hour, Foss-brooke's patience
+became exhausted, and he drew nigh the bell to summon a servant; his
+hand was on the rope, when the door opened, and Sewell entered. Whatever
+astonishment Fossbrooke might have felt at this unexpected appearance,
+nothing in his manner or look betrayed it. As for Sewell, all his
+accustomed ease had deserted him, and he came forward with an air of
+assumed swagger, but his color came and went, and his hands twitched
+almost convulsively.
+
+He bowed, and, smiling courteously, invited Fossbrooke to be seated.
+Haughtily drawing himself up to his full height, Sir Brook said, in his
+own deep sonorous voice, "There can be nothing between us, sir, that
+cannot be dismissed in a moment--and as we stand."
+
+"As you please, sir," rejoined Sewell, with an attempt at the same
+haughty tone. "I have been deputed by my stepfather, the Chief Baron,
+to make his excuses for not receiving you,--his health forbids
+the excitement. It is his-wish that you may make to _me_ whatever
+communication you had destined for _him_."
+
+"Which I refuse, sir, at once," interrupted Sir Brook. "I opine, then,
+there is no more to be said," said Sewell, with a faint smile.
+
+"Nothing more, sir,--not a word; unless perhaps you will be gracious
+enough to explain to the Chief Baron the reasons--they cannot be unknown
+to you--why I refuse all and any communication with Colonel Sewell."
+
+"I have no presumption to read your mind and know your thoughts," said
+Sewell, with quiet politeness.
+
+"You would discover nothing in either to your advantage, sir," said
+Fossbrooke, defiantly.
+
+"Might I add, sir," said Sewell, with an easy smile, "that all your
+malevolence cannot exceed my indifference to it?"
+
+Fossbrooke waived his hand haughtily, as though to dismiss the subject
+and all discussion of it, and after a few seconds' pause said: "We have
+a score that must be settled one day. I have deferred the reckoning out
+of reverence to the memory of one whose name must not be uttered between
+us, but the day for it shall come. Meanwhile, sir, you shall pay me
+interest on your debt."
+
+"What do you assume me to owe you?" asked Sewell, whose agitation could
+no longer be masked.
+
+"You would laugh if I said, your character before the world and the
+repute through which men keep your company; but you will not laugh--no,
+sir, not even smile--when I say that you owe me the liberty by which
+you are at large, instead of being, as I could prove you, a forger and a
+felon."
+
+Sewell threw a hurried and terrified look around the room, as though
+there might possibly be some to overhear the words; he grasped the back
+of a chair to steady himself, and in the convulsive effort seemed as if
+he was about to commit some act of violence.
+
+"None of that, sir," said Fossbrooke, folding his arms.
+
+"I meant nothing; I intended nothing; I was faint, and wanted support,"
+stammered out Sewell, in a broken voice. "What do you mean by interest?
+How am I to pay interest on an indefinite sum?"
+
+"It may relieve you of some anxiety to learn that I am not speaking
+of money in the interest I require of you. What I want--what I shall
+exact--is this: that you and yours--" He stopped and grew scarlet; the
+fear lest something coarse or offensive might fall from him in a moment
+of heat and anger arrested his words, and he was silent.
+
+Sewell saw all the difficulty. A less adroit man would have deemed the
+moment favorable to assert a triumph; Sewell was too acute for this, and
+waited without speaking a word.
+
+"My meaning is this," said Fossbrooke, in a voice of emotion. "There is
+a young lady here for whom I have the deepest interest. I desire that,
+so long as she lives estranged from her father's roof, she should not be
+exposed to other influences than such as she has met there. She is new
+to life and the world, and I would not that she should make acquaintance
+with them through any guidance save of her own nearest and dearest
+friends."
+
+"I hear, sir; but, I am free to own, I greatly mistrust myself to
+appreciate your meaning."
+
+"I am sorry for it," said Fossbrooke, sighing. "I wanted to convey my
+hope that in your intercourse here Miss Lendrick might be spared the
+perils of--of--"
+
+"My wife's friendship, you would say, sir," said Sewell, with a perfect
+composure of voice and look.
+
+Fossbrooke hung his head. Shame and sorrow alike crushed him down. Oh
+that the day should come when he could speak thus of Frank Dillon's
+daughter!
+
+"I will not say with what pain I hear you, Sir Brook," said Sewell, in
+a low gentle voice. "I am certain that you never uttered such a speech
+without much suffering. It will alleviate your fears when I tell you
+that we only remain a few days in town. I have taken a country house,
+some sixty or seventy miles from the capital, and we mean to live there
+entirely."
+
+"I am satisfied," said Sir Brook, whose eagerness to make reparation was
+now extreme.
+
+"Of course I shall mention nothing of this to my wife," said Sewell.
+
+"Of course not, sir; save with such an explanation as I could give of my
+meaning, it would be an outrage."
+
+"I was not aware that there was--that there could be--an explanation,"
+said Sewell, quietly; and then seeing the sudden flash that shot from
+the old man's eyes, he added hastily, "This is far too painful to dwell
+on; let it suffice, sir, that I fully understand you, and that you shall
+be obeyed."
+
+"I ask no more," said Fossbrooke, bowing slightly.
+
+"You will comprehend, Sir Brook," resumed Sewell, "that as I am
+precluded from making this conversation known to my wife, I shall not be
+able to limit any intimacy between her and Miss Lendrick farther than by
+such intimations and hints as I may offer without exciting suspicion. It
+might happen, for instance, that in coming up to town we should be Sir
+William's guests. Am I to suppose that you interdict this?"
+
+"I hope I am not capable of such a condition," said Sir Brook, flushing,
+for at every step and stage of the negotiation he felt that his zeal had
+outrun his judgment, and that he was attempting not only more than he
+could, but more than he ought to do.
+
+"In fairness, Sir Brook," said Sewell, with an assumed candor that sat
+very well on him, "I ought to tell you that your conditions are very
+easy ones My wife has come to this country to recruit her health and
+look after her children. I myself shall probably be on my way back to
+India soon after Christmas. Our small means totally preclude living
+in the gay world; and," added he, with a laugh, "if we really had
+any blandishments or captivations at our disposal, they would be best
+bestowed on the Horse Guards, to extend my leave, or assist me to an
+exchange."
+
+There was high art in the way in which Sewell had so contrived to get
+the old man involved in the conflict of his own feelings that he was
+actually grateful for the easy and even familiar tone employed towards
+him.
+
+"I have wounded this man deeply," said Fossbrooke to himself. "I have
+said to him things alike unfeeling and ungenerous, and yet he has temper
+enough to treat me amicably, even courteously."
+
+It was almost on his lips to say that he had still some influence
+with the Horse Guards, that a great man there had been one of his most
+intimate friends in life, and that he was ready to do anything in his
+power with him, when a sudden glance at Sewell's face recalled him at
+once to himself, and he stammered out, "I will detain you no longer,
+sir. Be kind enough to explain to the Lord Chief Baron that my
+communication was of a character that could not be made indirectly. His
+Excellency's name on my card probably suggested as much. It might be
+proper to add that the subject was one solely attaching to his Lordship
+and to his Lordship's interest. He will himself understand what I mean."
+
+Sewell bowed acquiescence. As he stood at the half-open door, he was
+disposed to offer his hand. It was a bold step, but he knew if it should
+succeed it would be a great victory. The opportunity was too good to be
+lost, and just as Sir Brook turned to say good-morning, Sewell, like one
+carried away by a sudden impulse, held out his hand, and said, "You may
+trust me, Sir Brook."
+
+"If you wish me to do so, sir, let me not touch your hand," said the
+old man, with a look of stern and haughty defiance, and he strode out
+without a farewell.
+
+Sewell staggered back into the room and sat down. A clammy cold
+perspiration covered his face and forehead, for the rancor that filled
+his heart sickened him like a malady. "You shall pay for this, by
+heaven! you shall," muttered he, as he wiped the great drops from his
+brow. "The old fool himself has taught me where he was vulnerable, and
+as I live he shall feel it."
+
+"His Lordship wants to see you, sir; he is in the garden," said a
+servant; and Sewell rose and followed him. He stopped twice as he went
+to compose his features and regain his calm. On the last time he even
+rehearsed the few words and the smile by which he meant to accost the
+Judge. The little artifice was, however, forestalled, as Sir William
+met him abruptly with the words, "What a time you have been,
+sir,--forty-eight minutes by my watch!"
+
+"I assure you, my Lord, I'd have made it shorter if I could," said
+Sewell, with a smile of some significance.
+
+"I am unable to see why you could not have done so. The charge I gave
+you was to report to me, not to negotiate on your own part."
+
+"Nor did I, my Lord. Sir Brook Fossbrooke distinctly declared that he
+would only communicate with yourself personally,--that what he desired
+to say referred to yourself, and should be answered by yourself."
+
+"On hearing which, sir, you withdrew?"
+
+"So far as your Lordship was concerned, no more was said between us.
+What passed after this I may be permitted to call private."
+
+"What, sir! You see a person in _my_ house, at _my_ instance, and with
+_my_ instructions,--who comes to see and confer with _me_; and you
+have the hardihood to tell me that you took that opportunity to discuss
+questions which you call private!"
+
+"I trust, my Lord, you will not press me in this matter; my position is
+a most painful one."
+
+"It is worse than painful, sir; it is humiliating. But," added he, after
+a short pause, "I have reason to be grateful to you. You have rescued
+me from, perhaps, a very grave indiscretion. Your position--your wife's
+health--your children's welfare had all interested me. I might have--No
+matter what, sir. I have recovered the balance of my mind. I am myself
+again."
+
+"My Lord, I will be open with you."
+
+"I will accept of no forced confidences, sir," said the Judge, waving
+his hand haughtily.
+
+"They are not forced, my Lord, farther than my dislike to give you pain
+renders them so. The man to whom you sent me this morning is no stranger
+to me--would that he had been!--would that I had never known nor heard
+of him! Very few words will explain why, my Lord. I only entreat that,
+before I say them, they may be in strictest confidence between us."
+
+"If they require secrecy, sir, they shall have it."
+
+"Quite enough, my Lord,--amply sufficient for me is this assurance. This
+person, then, my Lord, was the old friend and brother officer of Sir
+Frank Dillon, my father-in-law. They lived as young men in closest
+friendship together; shared perils, amusements, and purse together. For
+many years nothing occurred to interrupt the relations between them,
+though frequent remonstrances from Dillon's family against the intimacy
+might possibly have caused a coolness; for the world had begun to talk
+of Fossbrooke with a certain distrust, comparing his mode of living with
+the amount of his fortune, and half hinting that his successes at play
+were more than accidental.
+
+"Still Dillon held to him; and to break the tie at last, his family
+procured an Indian appointment for him, and sent him to Calcutta.
+Fossbrooke no sooner heard of it than he sold off his town house and
+horses, and actually sailed in the same packet with him."
+
+"Let us sit down, Colonel Sewell; I am wearied with walking, and I
+should like to hear the remainder of this story."
+
+"I will make it very brief, my Lord. Here is a nice bench to rest on.
+Arrived in India, they commenced a style of living the most costly
+and extravagant imaginable. Their receptions, their dinners, their
+equipages, their retinues, completely eclipsed the splendors of the
+native princes. For a while these were met promptly by ready money;
+later on came bills, at first duly met, and at last dishonored. On
+investigation, however, it was found that the greater number--far the
+greater number--of the acceptances were issued by Dillon alone,--a
+circumstance which puzzled none so much as Dillon himself, who never
+remembered the emergencies that had called for them."
+
+"They were forgeries by Fossbrooke," said the Judge.
+
+"You are right, my Lord, they were, but so adroitly done that Dillon
+was the first to declare the signatures his own; nor was the fraud
+ever discovered. To rescue his friend, as it were, Dillon sold off
+everything, and paid, I know not what amount, and they both left for
+Ceylon, where Dillon was named Commander of the Forces.
+
+"Here Dillon married, and, on the birth of his first child, Fossbrooke
+was the godfather, their affection being stronger than ever. Once
+more the life of extravagance burst forth, and now, besides the costly
+household and reckless expenditure, the stories of play became rife and
+frequent, several young fellows being obliged to leave the service and
+sell their commissions to meet their debts. The scandal reached England,
+and Dillon was given his choice to resign or resume active service at
+his old rank. He accepted the last, and went back to India. For a
+while they were separated. My father-in-law made a brilliant campaign,
+concluding with the victory of Atteyghur. He was named Political
+Resident at the seat of government, and found himself in the receipt
+of a large revenue, and might in a few years have become wealthy and
+honored. His evil genius, however, was soon at his side. Fossbrooke
+arrived, as he said, to see him before leaving for Europe; he never left
+him till his death. From that day dated my father-in-law's inevitable
+ruin. Maladministration, corruption, forced loans on every side.
+Black-mail was imposed on all the chiefs, and a system of iniquity
+instituted that rendered the laws a farce, and the office of judge a
+degradation.
+
+"Driven almost to desperation by his approaching ruin, and yet blind to
+the cause of it, Sir Frank took service against the Affghans, and fell,
+severely wounded, at Walhalla. Fossbrooke followed him to the Hills,
+where he went to die. The infatuation of that fatal man was unbroken,
+and on his deathbed he not only confided to him all the deeds and
+documents that concerned his fortune, but gave him the guardianship
+and control of his daughter. In the very last letter he ever penned are
+these words: 'Scandal may some day or other dare to asperse him (Sir
+Brook),--the best have no immunity on that score,--but I charge you,
+however fortune may deal with you, share it with him if he need it;
+your father never had so true, so noble, so generous a friend. Have full
+courage in any course he approves of, and never distrust yourself so
+completely as when he differs from you; above all, believe no ill of
+him.'
+
+"I have seen this letter,--I have read it more than once; and with my
+full knowledge of the man, with my memory stored with stories about him,
+it was very hard to see him exercise an influence in my house, and a
+power over my wife. For a while I tried to respect what had been the
+faith of her childhood; I could not bear to destroy what formed one of
+the links that bound her to her father's memory; but the man's conduct
+obliged me to abandon this clemency. He insisted on living upon us,
+and living in a style not merely costly, but openly, flagrantly
+disreputable. Of his manner to myself I will not speak; he treated me
+not alone as a dependant, but as one whose character and fortune were in
+his hands. To what comments this exposed me in my own house I leave you
+to imagine: I remonstrated at first, but my endurance became exhausted,
+and I turned him from my house.
+
+"Then began his persecution of me,--not alone of myself, but my wife,
+and all belonging to me. I must not dwell on this, or I should forget
+myself.
+
+"We left India, hoping never to hear more of him. There was a story
+that he had gone on a visit to a Rajah in Oude, and would in all
+likelihood live there till he died. Imagine what I felt, my Lord, when
+I read his name on that visiting-card. I knew, of course, what his
+presence meant, a pretended matter of business with you,--the real
+object being to traduce and vilify me. He had ascertained the connection
+between us, and determined to turn it to profit. So long as I followed
+my career in India,--a poor soldier of fortune,--I was not worth
+persecution; but here at home, with friends, possibly with friends able
+and willing to aid me, I at once assumed importance in his eyes. He well
+knows how dear to us is the memory of my wife's father, what sacrifices
+we have made, what sacrifices we would make again, that his name should
+not be harshly dealt with by the world. He feels, too, all the power and
+weight he can yield by that letter of poor Dillon's, given so frankly,
+so trustfully, and so unfortunately on his deathbed. In one word, my
+Lord, this man has come back to Europe to exert over me the pressure
+which he once on a time used over my father-in-law. For reasons I cannot
+fathom, the great people who knew him once, and who ought to know whom
+and what he has become, are still willing to acknowledge him. It is true
+he no longer frequents their houses and mixes in their society,--but
+they recognize him. The very card he sent in this morning bore the
+Viceroy's name,--and from this cause alone, even if there were not
+others, he would be dangerous. I weary you, my Lord, and I will
+conclude. By an accidental admission he let drop that he would soon
+leave Ireland for a while; let it seem, my Lord, so long as he remains
+here, that I am less intimate here, less frequent as a visitor, than he
+has imagined. Let him have grounds to imagine that my presence here was
+a mere accident, and that I am not at all likely to enjoy any share of
+your Lordship's favor,--in fact, let him believe me as friendless here
+as he saw me in India, and he will cease to speculate on persecuting
+me."
+
+"There would be indignity in such a course, sir," cried the Judge,
+fiercely; "the man has no terrors for _me_."
+
+"Certainly not, my Lord, nor for me personally. I speak on my wife's
+behalf; it is for her sake and for her peace of mind I am alone thinking
+here."
+
+"I will speak to her myself on this head."
+
+"I entreat you not, my Lord. I implore you never to approach the
+subject. She has for years been torn between the terrible alternative of
+obeying the last injunctions of her father or yielding to the wishes of
+her husband. Her life has been a continual struggle, and her shattered
+health has been the consequence. No, my Lord; let us go down for a few
+weeks or months--as it may be--to this country place they have taken for
+us; a little quietness will do us both good. My leave will not expire
+till March; there is still time to look about me."
+
+"Something shall be done for you, sir," said the Judge, pompously.
+Sewell bowed low: he knew how to make his bow a very deep acknowledgment
+of gratitude; he knew the exact measure of deference and trustfulness
+and thankfulness to throw into his expression as he bent his head, while
+he seemed too much overpowered to speak.
+
+"Yes, sir, you shall be cared for," said the old man. "And if this
+person, this Sir Brook Fossbrooke, return here, it is with _me_ he will
+have to deal,--not _you_."
+
+"My Lord, I entreat you never to admit him; neither see nor correspond
+with him. The man is a desperado, and holds his own life too cheap to
+care for another's."
+
+"Sir, you only pique my curiosity to meet with him. I have heard of such
+fellows, but never saw one."
+
+"From all I have heard, my Lord, _your_ courage requires no proofs."
+
+"You have heard the truth, sir. It has been tested in every way, and
+found without alloy. This man came here a few days ago to ask me to
+nominate my grandson to an office in my gift; but, save a lesson for his
+temerity, he 'took nothing by his motion.'" The old Judge walked up and
+down with short impatient steps, his eyebrows moving fiercely, And his
+mouth twitching angrily. "The Viceroy must be taught that it is not
+through such negotiators he can treat with men like myself. We hear much
+about the dignity of the Bench. I would that his Excellency should know
+that the respect for it is a homage to be rendered by the highest as
+well as the lowest, and that I for one will accept of nothing less than
+all the honors that befit my station."
+
+Relieved, as it were, by this outburst of vanity, his heart unburdened
+of a load of self-conceit, the old man felt freer And better; and in
+the sigh he heaved there seemed a something that indicated a sense of
+alleviation. Then, turning to Sewell, with a softened voice, he said,
+"How grieved I am that you should have passed such a morning! It was
+certainly not what I had intended for you."
+
+"You are too good to me, my Lord,--far too good, and too thoughtful of
+me," said Sewell, with emotion.
+
+"I am one of those men who must go to the grave misconstrued and
+misrepresented. He who would be firm in an age of cowardice, he who
+would be just in an age of jobbery, cannot fail to be calumniated. But,
+sir, there is a moral stature, as there is a material stature, that
+requires distance for its proportions; and it is possible posterity will
+be more just to me than my contemporaries."
+
+"I would only hope, my Lord, that the time for such a judgment may be
+long deferred."
+
+"You are a courtier, sir," said the Judge, smiling. "It was amongst
+courtiers I passed my early youth, and I like them. When I was a young
+man, Colonel Sewell, it was the fashion to make the tour of Europe as a
+matter of education and good breeding. The French Court was deemed, and
+justly deemed, the first school of manners, and I firmly believe France
+herself has suffered in her forms of politeness from having ceased to
+be the centre of supply to the world. She adulterated the liquor as the
+consumers decreased in taste and increased in number."
+
+"How neatly, how admirably expressed!" said Sewell, bowing.
+
+"I had some of that gift once," said the old man, with a sigh; "but it
+is a weapon out of use nowadays. Epigram has its place in a museum now
+as rightfully as an Andrea Ferrara."
+
+"I declare, my Lord, it is two o'clock. Here is your servant coming to
+announce luncheon. I am ashamed to-think what a share of your day I have
+monopolized."
+
+"You will stay and take some mutton broth, I hope?"
+
+"No, my Lord. I never eat luncheon, and I am, besides, horrified at
+inflicting you so long already."
+
+"Sir, if I suffer many of the miseries of old age, I avail myself of
+some of its few privileges. One of the best of these is, never to be
+bored. I am old and feeble enough to be able to say to him who wearies
+me, Leave me--leave-me to myself and my own dreariness. Had you
+'inflicted' me, as you call it, I 'd have said as much two hours ago.
+Your company was, however, most agreeable. You know how to talk, and,
+what is rarer, you know how to listen."
+
+Sewell bowed respectfully and in silence.
+
+"I wish the school that trains aides-de-camp could be open to junior
+barristers and curates," muttered he, half to himself; then added aloud,
+"Come and see me soon again. Come to breakfast, or, if you prefer it, to
+dinner. We dine at seven;" and without further adieu than a slight wave
+of his hand, he turned away and entered the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. SIR BROOK IN CONFUSION
+
+Tom Lendrick had just parted with his sister as Fossbrooke came up, and,
+taking his arm in silence, moved slowly down the road.
+
+Seeing his deep preoccupation, Tom did not speak for some time, but
+walked along without a word. "I hope you found my grandfather in better
+temper, sir?" asked Tom, at last.
+
+"He refused to receive me; he pleaded illness, or rather he called it
+by its true name, indisposition. He deputed another gentleman to meet
+me,--a Colonel Sewell, his stepson."
+
+"That 's the man my father saw at the Cape; a clever sort of person he
+called him, but, I suspect, not one to his liking; too much man of the
+world,--too much man of fashion for poor Dad."
+
+"I hope so," muttered Fossbrooke, unconsciously.
+
+"Indeed, sir; and why?" asked Tom, eagerly.
+
+"What of Lucy?" said Sir Brook, abruptly; "how did you think she was
+looking?"
+
+"Well, sir, on the whole, well. I've seen her jollier; but, to be sure,
+it was a leave-taking to-day, and that's not the occasion to put one in
+high spirits. Poor girl, she said, 'Is it not hard, Tom? There are only
+three of us, and we must all live apart.'"
+
+"So it is,--hard, very hard. I 'd have tried once more to influence the
+old Judge if he 'd have given me a meeting. He may do worse with that
+office than bestow it on you, Tom. I believe I'd have told him as much."
+
+"It's perhaps as well, sir, that you did not see him," said Tom, with a
+faint smile.
+
+"Yes," said Fossbrooke, following along the train of his own thoughts,
+and not noticing the other's remark. "He may do worse; he may give it
+to _him_, and thus draw closer the ties between them; and if _that_ man
+once gets admission there, he'll get influence."
+
+"Of whom are you talking, sir?"
+
+"I was not speaking, Tom. I was turning over some things in my mind. By
+the way, we have much to do before evening. Go over to Hodgen's about
+those tools; he has not sent them yet: and the blasting-powder, too, has
+not come down. I ought, if I could manage the time, to test it; but it
+'s too late. I must go to the Castle for five minutes,--five minutes
+will do it; and I 'll pass by Grainger's on my way back, and buy the
+flannel--miners' flannel they call it in the advertisement. We must look
+our _m�tier_, Tom, eh? You told Lucy where to write, and how to address
+us, I hope?"
+
+"Yes, sir, she wrote it down. By the way, that reminds me of a letter
+she gave me for you. It was addressed to her care, and came yesterday."
+
+The old man thrust it in his pocket without so much as a look at it.
+
+"I think the post-mark was Madeira," said Tom, to try and excite some
+curiosity.
+
+"Possibly. I have correspondents everywhere."
+
+"It looked like Trafford's writing, I thought."
+
+"Indeed! let us see;" and he drew forth the letter, and broke the
+envelope. "Right enough, Tom,--it is Trafford."
+
+He ran his eyes rapidly over the first lines, turned to the next side,
+and then to the end of the letter, and then once more began at the
+beginning.
+
+"This is his third attempt, he says, to reach me, having written twice
+without any acknowledgment; hence he has taken the liberty--and a very
+great liberty too--to address the present to the care of your sister.
+His brother died in March last, and the younger brother has now shown
+symptoms of the same malady, and has been sent out to Madeira. 'I could
+not,' he writes,--'I could not refuse to come out here with him, however
+eager I was to go to Ireland. You can well believe,'"--here the old
+man slurred over the words, and murmured inaudibly for some seconds. "I
+see," added he at last, "he has gone back to his old regiment, with good
+hopes of the majority. 'Hinks is sick of the service, and quite willing
+to leave. Harvey, however, stands above me, and deems it a cruel thing
+to be passed over. I must have your advice about this, as well as
+about--'" Here again he dropped his voice and mumbled unintelligibly.
+At length he read on: "'What is Tom doing? What a shame it would be if a
+fellow with such abilities should not make his way!'"
+
+"A crying shame," burst in Tom, "but I neither see the abilities nor the
+way; would he kindly indicate how to find either or both?"
+
+"'My mother suggested,'" read on Sir Brook, "'two or three things which
+my father could readily obtain, but you know the price of the promotion;
+you know what I would have to--'" Here, once more, the old man stopped
+abruptly.
+
+"Pray go on, sir," cried Tom, eagerly; "this interests me much, and as
+it touches myself I have half a claim to hear it."
+
+Sir Brook gave no heed to the request, but read on in silence and to
+himself. Turning to the last page, he said: "'I may then hope to be
+in England by the end of the month. I shall not go down to Holt, but
+straight to Dublin. My leave will expire on the 28th, and this will give
+me a good excuse for not going home. I am sure you will agree with me
+that I am doing the right thing.
+
+"'If I am fortunate enough to meet you in Dublin, I can ask your advice
+on many things which press for solution; but if you should have left
+Ireland and gone heaven knows where, what is to become of me?'"
+
+"Got into debt again, evidently," said Tom, as he puffed his cigar.
+
+"Nothing of the kind. I know thoroughly what he alludes to, though I am
+not at liberty to speak of it. He wishes me to leave our address with
+Colonel Cave at the barracks, and that if we should have left Ireland
+already, he 'll try and manage a month's leave, and pay us a visit."
+
+"I declare I guessed that!" burst out Tom. "I had a dread of it, from
+the very day we first planned our project. I said to myself, So sure as
+we settle down to work,--to work like men who have no thought but how to
+earn their bread,--some lavender-gloved fellow, with a dressing-case
+and three hat-boxes, will drop down to disgust us alike with our own
+hardships and _his_ foppery."
+
+"He'll not come," said Sir Brook, calmly; "and if he should, he will be
+welcome."
+
+"Oh! as to that," stammered out Tom, somewhat ashamed of his late
+warmth, "Trafford is perhaps the one exception to the sort of thing I am
+afraid of. He is a fine, manly, candid fellow, with no affectations nor
+any pretensions."
+
+"A gentleman, sir,--just a gentleman, and of a very good type."
+
+The last few lines of the letter were small and finely written, and cost
+the old man some time to decipher. At last he read them aloud. "'Am I
+asking what you would see any objection to accord me, if I entreat you
+to give me some letter of introduction or presentation to the Chief
+t Baron? I presume that you know him; and I presume that he might not
+refuse to know _me_. It is possible I may be wrong in either or both
+of these assumptions. I am sure you will be frank in your reply to
+this request of mine, and say No, if you dislike to say Yes. I made the
+acquaintance of Colonel Sewell, the Judge's step-son, at the Cape; but
+I suspect--I may be wrong--but I suspect that to be presented by
+the Colonel might not be the smoothest road to his Lordship's
+acquaintance,--I was going to write "favor," but I have no pretension,
+as yet at least, to aspire that far.'
+
+"'The Colonel himself told me that his mother and Sir William never met
+without a quarrel. His affectionate remark was that the Chief Baron was
+the only creature in Europe whose temper was worse than Lady Lendrick's,
+and it would be a blessing to humanity if they could be induced to live
+together.
+
+"'I saw a good deal of the Se wells at the Cape. She is charming! She
+was a Dillon, and her mother a Lascelles, some forty-fifth cousin of my
+mother's,--quite enough of relationship, however, to excuse a very rapid
+intimacy, so that I dined there when I liked, and uninvited. I did not
+like _him_ so well; but then he beat me at billiards, and always won my
+money at _�cart�_, and of course these are detracting ingredients which
+ought not to be thrown into the scale.
+
+"'How she sings! I don't know how you, with your rapturous love of
+music, would escape falling in love with her: all the more that she
+seems to me one who expects that sort of homage, and thinks herself
+defrauded if denied it. If the Lord Chief Baron is fond of ballads, he
+has been her captive this many a day.
+
+"'My love to Tom, if with you or within reach of you; and believe me,
+ever yours affectionately,--Lionel Trafford.'"
+
+"It was the eldest son who died," said Tom, carelessly.
+
+"Yes, the heir. Lionel now succeeds to a splendid fortune and the
+baronetcy."
+
+"He told me once that his father had made some sort of compact with his
+eldest son about cutting off the entail, in case he should desire to do
+it. In fact, he gave me to understand that he was n't a favorite with
+his father, and that, if by any course of events he were likely to
+succeed to the estate, it was more than probable his father would use
+this power, and merely leave him what he could not alienate,--a very
+small property that pertained to the baronetage."
+
+"With reference to what did he make this revelation to you? What had you
+been talking of?"
+
+"I scarcely remember. I think it was about younger sons,--how hardly
+they were treated, and how unfairly."
+
+"Great hardship truly that a man must labor! not to say that there
+is not a single career in life he can approach without bringing to it
+greater advantages than befall humbler men,--a better and more liberal
+education, superior habits as regards society, powerful friends, and
+what in a country like ours is inconceivably effective,--the prestige of
+family. I cannot endure this compassionate tone about younger sons. To
+my thinking they have the very best opening that life can offer, if they
+be men to profit by it; and if they are not, I care very little what
+becomes of them."
+
+"I do think it hard that my elder brother should have fortune and wealth
+to over-abundance, while my pittance will scarcely keep me in cigars."
+
+"You have no right, sir, to think of his affluence. It is not in
+the record; the necessities of your position have no-relation to his
+superfluities. Bethink you of yourself, and if cigars are too expensive
+for you, smoke cavendish. Trafford was full of this cant about the
+cruelty of primogeniture, but I would have none of it. Whenever a man
+tells me that he deems it a hardship that he should do anything for his
+livelihood, I leave him, and hope never to see more of him."
+
+"Trafford surely did not say so."
+
+"No,--certainly not; there would have been no correspondence between us
+if he had. But I want to see these young fellows showing the world that
+they shrink from no competitorship with any. They have long proved that
+to confront danger and meet death they are second to none. Let me show
+that in other qualities they admit of no inferiority,--that they are as
+ready for enterprise, as well able to stand cold and hunger and thirst,
+to battle with climate and disease. _I_ know well they can do it, but I
+want the world to know it."
+
+"As to intellectual distinctions," said Tom, "I think they are the
+equals of any. The best man in Trinity in my day was a fellow-commoner."
+
+This speech seemed to restore the old man to his best humor. He slapped
+young Lendrick familiarly on the shoulder and said: "It would be a grand
+thing, Tom, if we could extend the application of that old French adage,
+'noblesse oblige,' and make it apply to every career in life and every
+success. Come along down this street; I want to buy some nails,--we can
+take them home with us."
+
+They soon made their purchases; and each, armed with a considerably
+sized brown-paper parcel, issued from the shop,--the old man eagerly
+following up the late theme, and insisting on all the advantages good
+birth and blood conferred, and what a grand resource was the gentleman
+element in moments of pressure and temptation.
+
+"His Excellency wishes to speak to you, sir," said a footman,
+respectfully standing hat in hand before him "The carriage is over the
+way."
+
+Sir Brook nodded an assent, and then, turning to Torn, said, "Have
+the kindness to hold this for me for a moment; I will not detain you
+longer;" and placing in young Lendrick's hands a good-sized parcel, he
+stepped across the street, totally forgetting that over his left arm,
+the hand of which was in his pocket, a considerable coil of strong rope
+depended, being one of his late purchases. As he drew nigh the carriage,
+he made a sign that implied defeat; and mortified as the Viceroy was
+at the announcement, he could not help smiling at the strange guise in
+which the old man presented himself.
+
+"And how so, Fossbrooke?" asked he, in answer to the other's signal.
+
+"Simply, he would not see me, my Lord. Our first meeting had apparently
+left no very agreeable memories of me, and he scarcely cared to
+cultivate an acquaintance that opened so inauspiciously."
+
+"But you sent him your card with my name?"
+
+"Yes; and his reply was to depute another gentleman to receive me and
+take my communication."
+
+"Which you refused, of course, to make?"
+
+"Which I refused."
+
+"Do you incline to suppose that the Chief Baron guessed the object of
+your visit?"
+
+"I have no means of arriving at that surmise, my Lord. His refusal of me
+was so peremptory that it left me no clew to any guess."
+
+"Was the person deputed to receive you one with whom it was at all
+possible to indicate such an intimation of your business as might convey
+to the Chief Baron the necessity of seeing you?"
+
+"Quite the reverse, my Lord; he was one with whom, from previous
+knowledge, I could hold little converse."
+
+"Then there is, I fear, nothing to be done."
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Except to thank you heartily, my dear Fossbrooke, and ask you once
+more, why are you going away?"
+
+"I told you last night I was going to make a fortune. I have--to my own
+astonishment I own it--begun to feel that narrow means are occasionally
+most inconvenient; that they limit a man's action in so many ways that
+he comes at last to experience a sort of slavery; and instead of chafing
+against this, I am resolved to overcome it, and become rich."
+
+"I hope, with all my heart, you may. There is no man whom wealth will
+more become, or who will know how to dispense it more reputably."
+
+"Why, we have gathered a crowd around us, my Lord," said Fossbrooke,
+looking to right and left, where now a number of people had gathered,
+attracted by the Viceroy's presence, but still more amused by the
+strange-looking figure with the hank of rope over his arm, who
+discoursed so freely with his Excellency. "This is one of the penalties
+of greatness, I take it," continued he. "It's your Excellency's Collar
+of St. Patrick costs you these attentions--"
+
+"I rather suspect it's _your 'grand cordon_,' Fossbrooke," said the
+Viceroy, laughing, while he pointed to the rope.
+
+"Bless my stars!" exclaimed Sir Brook, blushing deeply, "how forgetful I
+am growing! I hope you forgive me. I am sure you could not suppose--"
+
+"I could never think anything but good of you, Fossbrooke. Get in, and
+come out to 'the Lodge' to dinner."
+
+"No, no; impossible. I am heartily ashamed of myself. I grow worse
+and worse every day; people will lose patience at last, and cut me;
+good-bye."
+
+"Wait one moment. I want to ask you something about young Lendrick.
+Would he take an appointment in a colonial regiment? Would he--" But
+Fossbrooke had elbowed his way through the dense crowd by this time, and
+was far out of hearing,--shocked with himself, and overwhelmed with the
+thought that in his absurd forgetfulness he might have involved another
+in ridicule.
+
+"Think of me standing talking to his Excellency with this on my arm,
+Tom!" said he, flushing with shame and annoyance: "how these absent
+fits keep advancing on me! When a man begins to forget himself in this
+fashion, the time is not very distant when his friends will be glad to
+forget him. I said so this moment to Lord Wilmington, and I am afraid
+that he agreed with me. Where are the screws, Tom,--have I been
+forgetting them also?"
+
+"No, sir, I have them here; the holdfasts were not finished, but
+they will be sent over to us this evening, along with the cramps you
+ordered."
+
+"So, then, my head was clear so far," cried he, with a smile. "In my
+prosperous days, Tom, these freaks of mine were taken as good jokes,
+and my friends laughed at them over my Burgundy; but when a man has
+no longer Burgundy to wash down his blunders with, it is strange how
+different becomes the criticism, and how much more candid the critic."
+
+"So that, in point of enlightenment, sir, it is better to be poor."
+
+"It is what I was just going to observe to you," said he, calmly. "Can
+you give me a cigar?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE TWO LUCYS
+
+Within a week after this incident, while Fossbrooke and young Lendrick
+were ploughing the salt sea towards their destination, Lucy sat in her
+room one morning engaged in drawing. She was making a chalk copy from
+a small photograph her brother had sent her, a likeness of Sir Brook,
+taken surreptitiously as he sat smoking at a window, little heeding or
+knowing of the advantage thus taken of him.
+
+The head was considerably advanced, the brow and the eyes were nearly
+finished, and she was trying for the third time to get an expression
+into the mouth which the photograph had failed to convey, but which she
+so often observed in the original. Eagerly intent on her work, she never
+heard the door open behind her, and was slightly startled as a very
+gentle hand was laid on her shoulder.
+
+"Is this a very presumptuous step of mine, dear Lucy?" said Mrs. Sewell,
+with one of her most bewitching smiles: "have I your leave for coming in
+upon you in this fashion?"
+
+"Of course you have, my dear Mrs. Sewell; it is a great pleasure to me
+to see you here."
+
+"And I may take off my bonnet and my shawl and my gloves and my company
+manner, as my husband calls it?"
+
+"Oh! _you_ have no company manner," broke in Lucy.
+
+"I used to think not; but men are stern critics, darling, and especially
+when they are husbands. You will find out, one of these days, how neatly
+your liege lord will detect every little objectionable trait in
+your nature, and with what admirable frankness he will caution you
+against--yourself."
+
+"I almost think I 'd rather he would not."
+
+"I 'm very certain of it, Lucy," said the other, with greater firmness
+than before. "The thing we call love in married life has an
+existence only a little beyond that of the bouquet you carried to the
+wedding-breakfast; and it would be unreasonable in a woman to expect
+it, but she might fairly ask for courtesy and respect, and you would
+be amazed how churlish even gentlemen can become about expending these
+graces in their own families."
+
+Lucy was both shocked and astonished at what she heard, and the grave
+tone in which the words were uttered surprised her most of all.
+
+Mrs. Sewell had by this time taken off her bonnet and shawl, and,
+pushing back her luxuriant hair from her forehead, looked as though
+suffering from headache, for her brows were contracted, and the orbits
+around her eyes dark and purple-looking.
+
+"You are not quite well to-day," said Lucy, as she sat down on the sofa
+beside her, and took her hand.
+
+"About as well as I ever am," said she, sighing; and then, as if
+suddenly recollecting herself, added, "India makes such an inroad on
+health and strength! No buoyancy of temperament ever resisted that fatal
+climate. You would n't believe it, Lucy, but I was once famed for high
+spirits."
+
+"I can well believe it."
+
+"It was, however, very long ago. I was little more than a child at the
+time--that is, I was about fourteen or fifteen--when I left England, to
+which I returned in my twentieth year. I went back very soon afterwards
+to nurse my poor father, and be married."
+
+The depth of sadness in which she spoke the last words made the silence
+that followed intensely sad and gloomy.
+
+"Yes," said she, with a deep melancholy smile, "papa called me madcap.
+Oh dear, if our fathers and mothers could look back from that eternity
+they have gone to, and see how the traits they traced in our childhood
+have saddened and sobered down into sternest features, would they
+recognize us as their own? I don't look like a madcap now, Lucy, do
+I?" As she said this, her eyes swam in tears, and her lip trembled
+convulsively. Then standing hastily up, she drew nigh the table, and
+leaned over to look at the drawing at which Lucy had been engaged.
+
+"What!" cried she, with almost a shriek,--"what is this? Whose portrait
+is this? Tell me at once; who is it?"
+
+"A very dear friend of mine and of Tom's. One you could not have ever
+met, I'm sure."
+
+"And how do you know whom I have met?" cried she, fiercely. "What can
+you know of my life and my associates?"
+
+"I said so, because he is one who has lived long estranged from the
+world," said Lucy, gently; for in the sudden burst of the other's
+passion she only saw matter for deep compassion. It was but another part
+of a nature torn and distracted by unceasing anxieties.
+
+"But his name,--his name?" said Mrs. Sewell, wildly.
+
+"His name is Sir Brook Fossbrooke."
+
+"I knew it, I knew it!" cried she, wildly,--"I knew it!" and said it
+over and over again. "Go where we will we shall find him. He haunts;
+us like a curse,--like a curse!" And it was in almost a shriek the last
+word came forth.
+
+"You cannot know the man if you say this of him," said Lucy, firmly.
+
+"Not know him!--not know him! You will tell me next that I do not know
+myself,--not know my own name,--not know the life of bitterness I have
+lived,--the shame of it,--the ineffable shame of it!" and she threw
+herself on her face on the sofa, and sobbed convulsively. Long and
+anxiously did Lucy try all in her power to comfort and console her. She
+poured out her whole heart in pledges of sisterly love and affection.
+She assured her of a sympathy that would never desert her; and, last
+of all, she told her that her judgment of Sir Brook was a mistaken
+one,--that in the world there lived not one more true-hearted, more
+generous, or more noble.
+
+"And where did you learn all this, young woman?" said the other,
+passionately. "In what temptations and trials of your life have these
+experiences been gained? Oh, don't be angry with me, dearest Lucy;
+forgive this rude speech of mine; my head is turning, and I know not
+what I say. Tell me, child, did this man speak to you of my husband?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Nor of myself?"
+
+"Not a word. I don't believe he was aware that we were related to each
+other."
+
+"He not aware? Why, it's his boast that he knows every one and every
+one's connections. You never heard him speak without this parade of
+universal acquaintanceship. But why did he come here? How did you happen
+to meet him?"
+
+"By the merest accident. Tom found him one day fishing the river close
+to our house, and they got to talk together; and it ended by his
+coming to us to tea. Intimacy followed very quickly, and then a close
+friendship."
+
+"And do you mean to tell me that all this while he never alluded to us?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"This is so unlike him,--so unlike him," muttered she, half to herself.
+"And the last place you saw him,--where was it?"
+
+"Here in this house."
+
+"Here! Do you mean that he came here to see you?"
+
+"No; he had some business with grandpapa, and called one morning, but
+he was not received. Grandpapa was not well, and sent Colonel Sewell to
+meet him."
+
+"He sent my husband! And did he go?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are you sure of that?"
+
+"I know it."
+
+"I never heard of this," said she, holding her hands to her temples.
+"About what time was it?"
+
+"It was on Friday last. I remember the day, because it was the last time
+I saw poor Tom."
+
+"On Friday last," said she, pondering. "Yes, you are right. I do
+remember that Friday;" and she drew up the sleeve of her dress, and
+looked at a dark-blue mark upon the fair white skin of her arm; but so
+hastily was the action done that Lucy did not remark it.
+
+"It was on Friday morning. It was on the forenoon of Friday, was it
+not?"
+
+"Yes. The clock struck one, I remember, as I got back to the house."
+
+"Tell me, Lucy," said she in a caressing tone, as she drew her arm round
+the girl's waist,--"tell me, darling, how did Colonel Sewell look after
+that interview? Did he seem angry or irritated? I'll tell you why I
+ask this some other time,--but I want to know if he seemed vexed or
+chagrined by meeting this man."
+
+"I did not see him after; he went away almost immediately after Sir
+Brook. I heard his voice talking with grandpapa in the garden, but I
+went to my room, and we did not meet."
+
+"As they spoke in the garden, were their voices raised? Did they talk
+like men excited or in warmth?"
+
+"Yes. Their tone and manner were what you say,--so much so that I went
+away, not to overhear them. Grandpapa, I know, was angry at something;
+and when we met at luncheon, he barely spoke to me."
+
+"And what conclusion did you draw from all this?"
+
+"None! There was nothing to induce me to dwell on the circumstance;
+besides," added she, with some irritation, "I am not given to reason
+upon the traits of people's manner, or their tone in speaking."
+
+"Nor perhaps accustomed to inquire, when your grandfather is vexed, what
+it is that has irritated him."
+
+"Certainly not. It is a liberty I should not dare to take."
+
+"Well, darling," said she, with a saucy laugh, "he is more fortunate in
+having _you_ for a granddaughter than me. I 'm afraid I should have less
+discretion,--at all events, less dread."
+
+"Don't be so sure of that," said Lucy, quietly. "Grandpapa is no
+common person. It is not his temper but his talent that one is loath to
+encounter."
+
+"I do not suspect that either would terrify me greatly. As the soldiers
+say, Lucy, I have been under fire pretty often, and I don't mind it now.
+Do you know, child, that we have got into a most irritable tone with
+each other? Each of us is saying something that provokes a sharp reply,
+and we are actually sparring without knowing it."
+
+"I certainly did not know it," said Lucy, taking her hand within both
+her own, "and I ask pardon if I have said anything to hurt you."
+
+Leaving her hand to Lucy unconsciously, and not heeding one word of what
+she had said, Mrs. Sewell sat with her eyes fixed on the floor deep in
+thought. "I 'm sure, Lucy," said she at last, "I don't know why I asked
+you all those questions awhile ago. That man--Sir Brook, I mean--is
+nothing to me; he ought to be, but he is not. My father and he were
+friends; that is, my father thought he was his friend, and left him the
+guardianship of me on his deathbed."
+
+"Your guardian,--Sir Brook your guardian?" cried Lucy, with intense
+eagerness.
+
+"Yes; with more power than the law, I believe, would accord to any
+guardian." She paused and seemed lost in thought for some seconds, and
+then went on: "Colonel Sewell and he never liked each other. Sir Brook
+took little trouble to be liked by him; perhaps Dudley was as careless
+on his side. What a tiresome vein I have got in! How should _you_ care
+for all this?"
+
+"But I do care--I care for all that concerns you."
+
+"I take it, if you were to hear Sir Brook's account, we should not make
+a more brilliant figure than himself. He 'd tell you about our mode of
+life, and high play, and the rest of it; but, child, every one plays
+high in India, every one does scores of things there they would n't
+do at home, partly because the _ennui_ of life tempts to
+anything,--anything that would relieve it; and then all are tolerant
+because all are equally--I was going to say wicked; but I don't mean
+wickedness,--I mean bored to that degree that there is no stimulant left
+without a breach of the decalogue."
+
+"I think that might be called wickedness," said Lucy, dryly.
+
+"Call it what you like, only take my word for it you 'd do the selfsame
+things if you lived there. I was pretty much what you are now when I
+left England; and if any naughty creature like myself were to talk, as
+I am doing to you now, and make confession of all her misdeeds and
+misfortunes, I'm certain I'd have known how to bridle up and draw away
+my hand, and retire to a far end of the sofa, and look unutterable
+pruderies, just as you do this moment."
+
+"Without ever suspecting it, certainly," said Lucy laughing.
+
+"Tear up that odious drawing, dear Lucy," said she, rising and walking
+the room with impatience. "Tear it up; or, if you won't do that, let me
+write a line under it--one line, I ask for no more--so that people may
+know at whom they are looking."
+
+"I will do neither; nor will I sit here to listen to one word against
+him."
+
+"Which means, child, that your knowledge of life is so-much greater than
+mine, you can trust implicitly to your own judgment. I can admire your
+courage, certainly, though I am not captivated by your prudence."
+
+"It is because I have so little faith in my own judgment that I am
+unwilling to lose the friend who can guide me."
+
+"Perhaps it would be unsafe if I were to ask you to choose between _him_
+and me," said Mrs. Sewell, very slowly, and with her eyes fully bent on
+Lucy.
+
+"I hope you will not."
+
+"With such a warning I certainly shall not do so. Who-could have
+believed it was so late?" said she, hastily looking at her watch;
+"What a seductive creature you must be, child, to slip over one's whole
+morning without knowing it,--two o'clock already. You lunch about this
+time?"
+
+"Yes, punctually at two."
+
+"Are you sufficiently lady of the house to invite me, Lucy?"
+
+"I am sure _you_ need no invitation here; you are one of us."
+
+"What a little Jesuit it is!" said Mrs. Sewell, patting her cheek.
+"Come, child, I 'll be equal with you. I 'll enter the room on your arm,
+and say, 'Sir William, your granddaughter insisted on my remaining; I
+thought it an awkwardness, but she tells me she is the mistress here,
+and I obey.'"
+
+"And you will find he will be too well-bred to contradict you," said
+Lucy, while a deep blush covered her face and throat.
+
+"Oh, I think him positively charming!" said Mrs. Sewell, as she arranged
+her hair before the glass; "I think him charming. My mother-in-law and
+I have a dozen pitched battles every day on the score of his temper and
+his character. _My_ theory is, the only intolerable thing on earth is
+a fool; and whether it be that Lady Lendrick suspects me of any secret
+intention to designate one still nearer to her by this reservation, I
+do not know, but the declaration drives her half crazy. Come, Lucy, we
+shall be keeping grandpapa waiting for us."
+
+They moved down the stairs arm-in-arm, without a word; but as they
+gained the door of the dining-room, Mrs. Sewell turned fully round
+and said, in a low deep voice, "Marry anything,--rake, gambler,
+villain,--anything, the basest and the blackest; but never take a fool,
+for a fool means them all combined."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE NEST WITH STRANGE "BIRDS" IN IT
+
+To the Swan's Nest, very differently tenanted from what we saw it at
+the opening of our story, we have now to conduct our reader. Its present
+occupant--"the acquisition to any neighborhood," as the house-agent
+styled him--was Colonel Sewell.
+
+Lady Lendrick had taken the place for her son on finding that Sir
+William would not extend his hospitality to him. She had taken the
+precaution not merely to pay a year's rent in advance, but to make a
+number of changes in the house and its dependencies, which she hoped
+might render the residence more palatable to him, and reconcile him in
+some degree to its isolation and retirement.
+
+The Colonel was, however, one of those men--they are numerous enough
+in this world--who canvass the mouth of the gift-horse, and have few
+scruples in detecting the signs of his age. He criticised the whole
+place with a most commendable frankness. It was a "pokey little hole."
+It was dark; it was low-ceilinged. It was full of inconveniences.
+The furniture was old-fashioned. You had to mount two steps into the
+drawing-room and go down three into the dining-room. He had to cross
+a corridor to his bath-room, and there was a great Tudor window in the
+small breakfast-parlor, that made one feel as if sitting in a lantern.
+
+As for the stables, "he would n't put a donkey into them." No light,
+no ventilation,--no anything, in short. To live surrounded with so many
+inconveniences was the most complete assertion of his fallen condition,
+and, as he said, "he had never realized his fall in the world till he
+settled down in that miserable Nest."
+
+There are men whose especial delight it is to call your attention to
+their impaired condition, their threadbare coat, their patched shoes,
+their shabby equipage, or their sorry dwelling, as though they were
+framing a sort of indictment against Fate, and setting forth the
+hardships of persons of merit like them being subjected to this
+unjustifiable treatment by Fortune.
+
+"I suppose you never thought to see me reduced to this," is the burden
+of their song; and it is very strange how, by mere repetition and
+insistence, these people establish for themselves a sort of position,
+and oblige the world to yield them a black-mail of respect and
+condolence.
+
+"This was not the sort of tipple I used to set before you once on a
+time, old fellow," will be uttered by one of whose hospitalities you
+have never partaken. "It was another guess sort of beast I gave you for
+a mount when we met last," will be said by a man who never rose above
+a cob pony; and one is obliged to yield a kind of polite assent to such
+balderdash, or stand forward as a public prosecutor and arraign the
+rascal for a humbug.
+
+In this self-commiseration Sewell was a master, and there was not
+a corner of the house he did not make the butt of his ridicule,--to
+contrast its littleness and vulgarity with the former ways and
+belongings of his own once splendor.
+
+"You're capital fellows," said he to a party of officers from the
+neighboring garrison, "to come and see me in this dog-hole. Try and find
+a chair you can sit on, and I 'll ask my wife if we can give you some
+dinner. You remember me up at Rangoon, Hobbes? Another guess sort of
+place, wasn't it? I had the Rajah's palace and four elephants at my
+orders. At Guzerat, too, I was the Resident, and, by Jove, I never
+dreamed of coming down to this!"
+
+Too indolent or too indifferent to care where or how she was lodged, his
+wife gave no heed to his complaints, beyond a little half-supercilious
+smile as he uttered them. "If a fellow will marry, however, he deserves
+it all," was his usual wind-up to all his lamentations; and in this he
+seemed to console himself by the double opportunity of pitying himself
+and insulting his wife.
+
+All that Colonel Cave and his officers could say in praise of the spot,
+its beauty, its neatness, and its comfort, were only fresh aliment to
+his depreciation, and he more than half implied that possibly the place
+was quite good enough for _them_, but that was not exactly the question
+at issue.
+
+Some men go through life permitted to say scores of things for which
+their neighbor would be irrevocably cut and excluded from society.
+Either that the world is amused at their bitterness, or that it is
+regarded as a malady, far worse to him who bears than to him who
+witnesses it,--whatever the reason,--people endure these men, and make
+even a sort of vicious pets of them. Sewell was of this order, and a
+fine specimen too.
+
+All the men around him were his equals in every respect, and yet there
+was not one of them who did not accept a position of quiet, unresisting
+inferiority to him for the sake of his bad temper and his bad tongue. It
+was "his way," they said, and they bore it.
+
+He was a consummate adept in all the details of a household; and his
+dinners were perfection, his wine good, and his servants drilled to
+the very acme of discipline. These were not mean accessories to any
+pretension; and as they sat over their claret, a pleasanter and more
+social tone succeeded than the complaining spirit of their host had at
+first promised.
+
+The talk was chiefly professional. Pipeclay will ever assert its
+pre-eminence, and with reason, for it is a grand leveller; and Digges,
+who joined three months ago, may have the Army List as well by heart
+as the oldest major in the service: and so they discussed, Where was
+Hobson? what made Jobson sell out? how did Bobson get out of that scrape
+with the paymaster? and how long will Dobson be able to live at his
+present rate in that light-cavalry corps? Everything that fell from them
+showed the most thorough intimacy with the condition, the fortune, and
+the prospects of the men they discussed,--familiarity there was enough
+of, but no friendship. No one seemed to trouble himself whether the
+sick-leave or the sell-out meant hopeless calamity,--all were dashed
+with a species of well-bred fatalism that was astonished with nothing,
+rejoiced at nothing, repined at nothing.
+
+"I wish Trafford would make up his mind!" cried one. "Three weeks ago he
+told me positively he would leave, and now I hear he offered Craycroft
+three thousand pounds to retire from the majority."
+
+"That 's true; Craycroft told me so himself; but old Joe is a wily bird,
+and he 'll not be taken so easily."
+
+"He's an eldest son now!" broke in another. "What does he care whether
+he be called major or captain?"
+
+"An eldest son!" cried Sewell, suddenly; "how is that? When I met him at
+the Cape, he spoke of an elder brother."
+
+"So he had, then, but he's 'off the hooks.'"
+
+"I don't think it matters much," said the Colonel. "The bulk of the
+property is disentailed, and Sir Hugh can leave it how he likes."
+
+"That's what I call downright shameful," said one; but he was the
+minority, for a number of voices exclaimed,--"And perfectly right; that
+law of primogeniture is a positive barbarism."
+
+While the dispute waxed warm and noisy, Sewell questioned the Colonel
+closely about Trafford,--how it happened that the entail was removed,
+and why there was reason to suppose that Sir Hugh and his son were not
+on terms of friendship.
+
+Cave was frank enough when he spoke of the amount of the fortune and the
+extent of the estate, but used a careful caution in speaking of family
+matters, merely hinting that Trafford had gone very fast, spent a deal
+of money, had his debts twice paid by his father, and was now rather
+in the position of a reformed spendthrift, making a good character for
+prudence and economy.
+
+"And where is he?--not in Ireland?" asked Se well, eagerly.
+
+"No; he is to join on Monday. I got a hurried note from him this
+morning, dated Holyhead. You said you had met him?"
+
+"Yes, at the Cape; he used to come and dine with us there occasionally."
+
+"Did you like him?"
+
+"In a way. Yes, I think he was a nice fellow,--that is, he might be made
+a nice fellow, but it was always a question into what hands he fell; he
+was at the same time pliant and obstinate. He would always imitate,--he
+would never lead. So he seemed to me; but, to tell you the truth, I left
+him a good deal to the women; he was too young and too fresh for a man
+like myself."
+
+"You are rather hard on him," said Cave, laughing; "but you are partly
+right. He has, however, fine qualities,--he is generous and trustful to
+any extent."
+
+"Indeed!" said Sewell, carelessly, as he bit off the end of a cigar.
+
+"Nothing would make him swerve from his word; and if placed in a
+difficulty where a friend was involved, his own interests would be the
+last he 'd think of."
+
+"Very fine, all that. Are you drinking claret?--if so, finish that
+decanter, and let's have a fresh bottle."
+
+Cave declined to take more wine, and he arose, with the rest, to repair
+to the drawing-room for coffee.
+
+It was not very usual for Sewell to approach his wife or notice her in
+society; now, however, he drew a chair near her as she sat at the fire,
+and in a low whisper said, "I have some pleasant news for you."
+
+"Indeed!" she said coldly,--"what a strange incident!"
+
+"You mean it is a strange channel for pleasant news to come through,
+perhaps," said he, with a curl of his lip.
+
+"Possibly that is what I meant," said she, as quietly as before.
+
+"None of these fine-lady airs with me, Madam," said he, reddening with
+anger; "there are no two people in Europe ought to understand each other
+better than we do."
+
+"In that I quite agree with you."
+
+"And as such is the case, affectations are clean thrown away, Madam; we
+_can_ have no disguises for each other."
+
+A very slight inclination of her head seemed to assent to this remark,
+but she did not speak.
+
+"We came to plain speaking many a day ago," said he, with increased
+bitterness in his tone. "I don't see why we are to forego the advantage
+of it now,--do you?"
+
+"By no means. Speak as plainly as you wish; I am quite ready to hear
+you."
+
+"You have managed, however, to make people observe us," muttered he,
+between his teeth,--"it's an old trick of yours, Madam. You can play
+martyr at the shortest notice." He rose hastily and moved to another
+part of the room, where a very noisy group were arranging a party for
+pool at billiards.
+
+"Won't you have me?" cried Sewell, in his ordinary tone. "I'm a perfect
+boon at pool; for I am the most unlucky dog in everything."
+
+"I scarcely think you'll expect us to believe _that_," said Cave, with a
+glance of unmistakable admiration towards Mrs. Sewell.
+
+"Ay," cried Sewell, fiercely, and answering the unspoken
+sentiment,--"ay, sir, and _that_,"--he laid a stern emphasis on the
+word,--"and _that_ the worst luck of all."
+
+"I 've been asking Mrs. Sewell to play a game with us, and she says she
+has no objections," said a young subaltern, "if Colonel Sewell does not
+dislike it."
+
+"I'll play whist, then," said Sewell. "Who 'll make a rubber?--Cave,
+will you? Here's Houghton and Mowbray,--eh?"
+
+"No, no," said Mowbray,--"you are all too good for me."
+
+"How I hate that,--too good for me," said Sewell. "Why, man, what
+better investment could you ask for your money than the benefit of good
+teaching? Always ride with the best hounds, play with the best players,
+talk with the best talkers."
+
+"And make love to the prettiest women," added Cave, in a whisper, as
+Mowbray followed Mrs. Sewell into the billiard-room.
+
+"I heard you, Cave," whispered Sewell, in a still lower whisper;
+"there's devilish little escapes my ears, I promise you." The bustle and
+preparation of the card-table served in part to cover Cave's confusion,
+but his cheek tingled and his hand shook with mingled shame and
+annoyance.
+
+Sewell saw it all, and knew how to profit by it. He liked high play,
+to which Cave generally objected; but he well knew that on the present
+occasion Cave would concur in anything to cover his momentary sense of
+shame.
+
+"Pounds and fives, I suppose," said Sewell; and the others bowed, and
+the game began.
+
+As little did Cave like three-handed whist, but he was in no mood to
+oppose anything; for, like many men who have made an awkward speech, he
+exaggerated the meaning through his fears, and made it appear absolutely
+monstrous to himself.
+
+"Whatever you like," was therefore his remark; and he sat down to the
+game.
+
+Sewell was a skilled player; but the race is no more to the swift in
+cards than in anything else,--he lost, and lost heavily. He undervalued
+his adversaries too, and, in consequence, he followed up his bad luck
+by increased wagers. Cave tried to moderate the ardor he displayed,
+and even remonstrated with him on the sums they were staking, which, he
+good-humoredly remarked, were far above his own pretensions; but
+Sewell resented the advice, and replied with a coarse insinuation about
+winners' counsels. The ill-luck continued, and Sewell's peevishness and
+ill-temper increased with every game. "What have I lost to you?" cried
+he, abruptly, to Cave; "it jars on my nerves every time you take out
+that cursed memorandum, so that all I can do is not to fling it into the
+fire."
+
+"I'm sure I wish you would, or that you would let me do it," said Cave,
+quietly.
+
+"How much is it?--not short of three hundred, I'll be bound."
+
+"It is upwards of five hundred," said Cave, handing the book across the
+table.
+
+"You'll have to wait for it, I promise you. You must give me time, for
+I am in all sorts of messes just now." While Cave assured him that
+there was no question of pressing for payment,--to take his own perfect
+convenience,--Sewell, not heeding him, went on: "This confounded place
+has cost me a pot of money. My wife, too, knows how to scatter her
+five-pound notes; in short, we are a wasteful lot. Shall we have one
+rubber more, eh?"
+
+"As you like. I am at your orders."
+
+"Let us say double or quits, then, for the whole sum."
+
+Cave made no reply, and seemed not to know how to answer.
+
+"Of course, if you object," said Sewell, pushing back his chair from the
+table, as though about to rise, "there's no more to be said."
+
+"What do _you_ say, Houghton?" asked Cave.
+
+"Houghton has nothing to say to it; _he_ hasn't won twenty pounds from
+me," said Sewell, fiercely.
+
+"Whatever you like, then," said Cave, in a tone in which it was easy to
+see irritation was with difficulty kept under, and the game began.
+
+The game began in deep silence. The restrained temper of the players and
+the heavy sum together impressed them, and not a word was dropped. The
+cards fell upon the table with a clear, sharp sound, and the clink of
+the counters resounded through the room, the only noises there.
+
+As they played, the company from the billiard-room poured in and drew
+around the whist-table, at first noisily enough; but seeing the deep
+preoccupation of the players, their steadfast looks, their intense
+eagerness, made more striking by their silence, they gradually lowered
+their voices, and at last only spoke in whispers and rarely.
+
+The first game of the rubber had been contested trick by trick, but
+ended by Cave winning it. The second game was won by Sewell, and the
+third opened with his deal.
+
+As he dealt the cards, a murmur ran through the bystanders that
+the stake was something considerable, and the interest increased in
+consequence. A few trifling bets were laid on the issue, and one of
+the group, in a voice slightly raised above the rest, said, "I'll back
+Sewell for a pony."
+
+"I beg you will not, sir," said Sewell, turning fiercely round. "I'm in
+bad luck already, and I don't want to be swamped altogether. There, sir,
+your interference has made me misdeal," cried he, passionately, as he
+flung the cards on the table.
+
+Not a word was said as Cave began his deal. It was too plain to every
+one that Sewell's temper was becoming beyond control, and that a word or
+a look might bring the gravest consequences.
+
+"What cards!" said Cave, as he spread his hand on the table: "four
+honors and nine trumps." Sewell stared at them, moved his fingers
+through them to separate and examine them, and then, turning his head
+round, he looked behind. It was his wife was standing at the back of his
+chair, calm, pale, and collected. "By Heaven!" cried he, savagely, "I
+knew who was there as well as if I saw her. The moment Cave spread out
+his cards, I 'd have taken my oath that _she_ was standing over me."
+
+She moved hastily away at the ruffianly speech, and a low murmur of
+indignant anger filled the room. Cave and Houghton quitted the table,
+and mingled with the others; but Sewell sat still, tearing up the
+cards one by one, with a quiet, methodical persistence that betrayed no
+passion. "There!" said he, as he threw the last fragment from him, "you
+shall never bring good or bad luck to any one more." With the ease
+of one to whom such paroxysms were not un-frequent, he joined in the
+conversation of a group of young men, and with a familiar jocularity
+soon set them at their ease towards him; and then, drawing his arm
+within Cave's, he led him apart, and said: "I 'll go over to the Barrack
+to-morrow and breakfast with you. I have just thought of how I can
+settle this little debt."
+
+"Oh, don't distress yourself about that," said Cave. "I beg you will not
+let it give you a moment's uneasiness."
+
+"Good fellow!" said Sewell, clapping him on the shoulder; "but I
+have the means of doing it without inconvenience, as I 'll show you
+to-morrow. Don't go yet; don't let your fellows go. We are going to have
+a broil, or a devilled biscuit, or something." He walked over and rang
+the bell, and then hastily passed on into a smaller room, where his wife
+was sitting on a sofa, an old doctor of the regiment seated at her side.
+
+"I won't interrupt the consultation," said Sewell, "but I have just one
+word to say." He leaned over the back of the sofa, and whispered in her
+ear, "Your friend Trafford is become an eldest son. He is at the
+Bilton Hotel, Dublin; write and ask him here. Say I have some
+cock-shooting,--there are harriers in the neighborhood. Are you
+listening to me, Madam?" said he, in a harsh hissing voice, for she had
+half turned away her head, and her face had assumed an expression of
+sickened disgust. She nodded, but did not speak. "Tell him that I've
+spoken to Cave--he'll make his leave all right--that I 'll do my best
+to make the place pleasant to him, and that--in fact, I needn't toy to
+teach you to write a sweet note. You understand me, eh?"
+
+"Oh, perfectly," said she, rising; and a livid paleness now spread over
+her face, and even her lips were bloodless.
+
+"I was too abrupt with my news. I ought to have been more considerate;
+I ought to have known it might overcome you," said he, with a sneering
+bitterness. "Doctor, you 'll have to give Mrs. Se well some cordial,
+some restorative,--that's the name for it. She was overcome by some
+tidings I brought her. Even pleasant news will startle us occasionally.
+As the French comedy has it, _La joie fait peur_;" and with a listless,
+easy air, he sauntered away into another room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. SEWELL VISITS CAVE
+
+Punctual to his appointment, Sewell appeared at breakfast the next
+morning with Colonel Cave. Of all the ill-humor and bad conduct of the
+night before, not a trace now was to be seen. He was easy, courteous,
+and affable. He even made a half-jesting apology for his late display of
+bad temper; attributing it to an attack of coming gout. "So long as
+the malady," said he, "is in a state of menace, one's nerves become so
+fine-strung that there is no name for the irritability; but when once a
+good honest seizure has taken place, a man recovers himself, and stands
+up to his suffering manfully and well.
+
+"To-day, for instance," said he, pointing to a shoe divided by long
+incisions, "I have got my enemy fixed, and I let him do his worst."
+
+The breakfast proceeded pleasantly; Cave was in admiration of his
+guest's agreeability; for he talked away, not so much of things as of
+people. He had in a high degree that-man-of-the-world gift of knowing
+something about every one. No name could turn up of which he could not
+tell you something the owner of it had said or done, and these "scratch"
+biographies are often very amusing, particularly when struck off with
+the readiness of a practised talker.
+
+It was not, then, merely that Sewell obliterated every memory of the
+evening before, but he made Cave forget the actual object for which he
+had come that morning. Projects, besides, for future pleasure did Sewell
+throw out, like a man who had both the leisure, the means, and the taste
+for enjoyment. There was some capital shooting he had just taken; his
+neighbor, an old squire, had never cared for it, and let him have
+it "for a song." They were going to get up hack races, too, in the
+Park,--"half-a-dozen hurdles and a double ditch to tumble over," as he
+said, "will amuse our garrison fellows,--and my wife has some theatrical
+intentions--if you will condescend to help her."
+
+Sewell talked with that blended munificence and shiftiness, which seems
+a specialty with a certain order of men. Nothing was too costly to be
+done, and yet everything must be accomplished with a dexterity that was
+almost a dodge. The men of this gift are great scene-painters. They dash
+you off a view--be it a wood or a rich interior, a terraced garden or an
+Alpine hut--in a few loose touches. Ay! and they "smudge" them out again
+before criticism has had time to deal with them. "By the way," cried he,
+suddenly, stopping in the full swing of some description of a possible
+regatta, "I was half forgetting what brought me here this morning. I am
+in your debt, Cave."
+
+He stopped as though his speech needed some rejoinder, and Cave grew
+very red and very uneasy--tried to say something--anything--but could
+not. The fact was, that, like a man who had never in all his life
+adventured on high play or risked a stake that could possibly be of
+importance to him, he felt pretty much the same amount of distress at
+having won as he would have felt at having lost. He well knew that if by
+any mischance he had incurred such a loss as a thousand pounds, it would
+have been a most serious embarrassment--by what right, then, had he won
+it? Now, although feelings of this sort were about the very last to find
+entrance into Sewell's heart, he well knew that there were men who were
+liable to them, just as there were people who were exposed to plague
+or yellow fever, and other maladies from which he lived remote. It
+was, then, with a sort of selfish delight that he saw Cave's awkward
+hesitating manner, and read the marks of the shame that was overwhelming
+him.
+
+"A heavy sum too," said Sewell, jauntily; "we went the whole 'pot' on
+that last rubber."
+
+"I wish I could forget it--I mean," muttered Cave, "I wish we could both
+forget it."
+
+"I have not the least objection to that," said Sewell gayly; "only let
+it first be paid."
+
+"Well, but--what I meant was--what I wanted to say, or rather, what I
+hoped--was--in plain words, Sewell," burst he out, like a man to whom
+desperation gave courage,--"in plain words, I never intended to play
+such stakes as we played last night,--I never have--I never will again."
+
+"Not to give me my revenge?" said Sewell, laughing.
+
+"No, not for anything. I don't know what I 'd have done--I don't know
+what would have become of me--if I had lost; and I pledge you my honor,
+I think the next worst thing is to have won."
+
+"Do you, by George!"
+
+"I do, upon my sacred word of honor. My first thoughts on waking this
+morning were more wretched than they have been for any day in the last
+twenty years of life, for I was thoroughly ashamed of myself."
+
+"You 'll not find many men afflicted with your malady, Cave; and, at all
+events, it's not contagious."
+
+"I know nothing about that," said Cave, half irritably; "I never was a
+play man, and have little pretension to understand their feelings."
+
+"They have n't got any," said Sewell, as he lit his cigar.
+
+"Perhaps not; so much the worse for them. I can only say, if the misery
+of losing be only proportionate to the shame of winning, I don't envy a
+gambler. Such an example, too, to exhibit to my young officers! It was
+too bad--too bad."
+
+"I declare I don't understand this," said Sewell, carelessly; "when I
+commanded a battalion, I never imagined I was obliged to be a model to
+the subs or the junior captains." The tone of banter went, this time,
+to the quick; and Cave flushed a deep crimson, and said,--"I'm not sorry
+that my ideas of my duty are different; though, in the present case, I
+have failed to fulfil it."
+
+"Well, well, there's nothing to grow angry about," said Sewell,
+laughing, "even though you won't give me my revenge. My present business
+is to book up;" and, as he spoke, he sat down at the table, and drew a
+roll of papers from his pocket and laid it before him.
+
+"You distress me greatly by all this, Sewell," said Cave, whose
+agitation now almost overcame him. "Cannot we hit upon some way? can't
+we let it lie over? I mean,--is there no arrangement by which this
+cursed affair can be deferred? You understand me?"
+
+"Not in the least. Such things are never deferred without loss of honor
+to the man in default. The stake that a man risks is supposed to be
+in his pocket, otherwise play becomes trade, and accepts all the
+vicissitudes of trade."
+
+"It's the first time I ever heard them contrasted to the disparagement
+of honest industry."
+
+"And I call billiards, tennis, whist, and �cart� honest industries, too,
+though I won't call them trades. There, there," said he, laughing at the
+other's look of displeasure, "don't be afraid; I am not going to preach
+these doctrines to your young officers, for whose morals you are so much
+concerned. Sit down here, and just listen to me for one moment."
+
+Cave obeyed, but his face showed in every feature how reluctantly.
+
+"I see, Cave," said Sewell, with a quiet smile,--"I see you want to do
+me a favor,--so you shall. I am obliged to own that I am an exception to
+the theory I have just now enunciated. I staked a thousand pounds, and I
+had _not_ the money in my pocket. Wait a moment,--don't interrupt me.
+I had not the money in gold or bank-notes, but I had it here"--and he
+touched the papers before him--"in a form equally solvent, only that it
+required that he who won the money should be not a mere acquaintance,
+but a friend,--a friend to whom I could speak with freedom and in
+confidence. This," said he, "is a bond for twelve hundred pounds, given
+by my wife's guardian in satisfaction of a loan once made to him; he was
+a man of large fortune, which he squandered away recklessly, leaving
+but a small estate, which he could neither sell nor alienate. Upon this
+property this is a mortgage. As an old friend of my father-in-law,--a
+very unworthy one, by the way,--I could of course not press him for the
+interest, and, as you will see, it has never been paid; and there is now
+a balance of some hundred pounds additional against him. Of this I
+could not speak, for another reason,--we are not without the hope of
+inheriting something by him, and to allude to this matter would be
+ruinous. Keep this, then. I insist upon it. I declare to you, if you
+refuse, I will sell it to-morrow to the first moneylender I can find,
+and send you my debt in hard cash. I 've been a play-man all my life,
+but never a defaulter."
+
+There was a tone of proud indignation in the way he spoke that awed Cave
+to silence; for in good truth he was treating of themes of which he knew
+nothing whatever: and of the sort of influences which swayed gamblers,
+of the rules that guided and the conventionalities that bound them, he
+was profoundly ignorant.
+
+"You 'll not get your money, Cave," resumed Sewell, "till this old
+fellow dies; but you will be paid at last,--of that I can assure you.
+Indeed, if by any turn of luck I was in funds myself, I 'd like to
+redeem it. All I ask is, therefore, that you 'll not dispose of it, but
+hold it over in your own possession till the day--and I hope it may be
+an early one--it will be payable."
+
+Cave was in no humor to dispute anything. There was no condition to
+which he would not have acceded, so heartily ashamed and abashed was
+he by the position in which he found himself. What he really would have
+liked best, would have been to refuse the bond altogether, and say,
+Pay when you like, how you like, or, better still, not at all. This of
+course was not possible, and he accepted the terms proposed to him at
+once.
+
+"It shall be all as you wish," said he, hurriedly. "I will do everything
+you desire; only let me assure you that I would infinitely rather this
+paper remained in _your_ keeping than in _mine_. I'm a careless fellow
+about documents," added he, trying to put the matter on the lesser
+ground of a safe custody. "Well, well, say no more; you don't wish it,
+and that's enough."
+
+"I must be able to say," said Sewell, gravely, "that I never lost over
+night what I had not paid the next morning; and I will even ask of you
+to corroborate me so far as this transaction goes. There were several
+of your fellows at my house last night; they saw what we played for, and
+that I was the loser. There will be--there always is--plenty of gossip
+about these things, and the first question is, 'Has he-booked up?' I'm
+sure it's not asking more than you are ready to do, to say that I paid
+my debt within twenty-four hours."
+
+"Certainly; most willingly. I don't know that any one has a right to
+question me on the matter."
+
+"I never said he had. I only warned you how people will talk, and how
+necessary it is to be prepared to stifle a scandal even before it has
+flared out."
+
+"It shall be cared for. I'll do exactly as you wish," said Cave, who
+was too much flurried to know what was asked of him, and to what he was
+pledged.
+
+"I'm glad this is off my mind," said Sewell, with a long sigh of relief.
+"I lay awake half the night thinking of it; for there are scores of
+fellows who are not of your stamp, and who would be for submitting these
+documents to their lawyer, and asking, Heaven knows, what this affair
+related to. Now I tell you frankly, I 'd have given no explanations. He
+who gave that bond is, as I know, a consummate rascal, and has robbed
+me--that is, my wife--out of two-thirds of her fortune; but _my_ hands
+are tied regarding him. I could n't touch him, except he should try to
+take my life,--a thing, by the way, he is quite capable of. Old Dillon,
+my wife's father, believed him to be the best and truest of men, and my
+wife inherited this belief, even in the face of all the injuries he had
+worked us. She went on saying, 'My father always said, "Trust Fossy:
+there's at least one man in the world that will never deceive you.'""
+
+"What was the name you said?" asked Cave, quickly.
+
+"Oh, only a nickname. I don't want to mention his name. I have sealed up
+the bond, with this superscription,--'Colonel Sewell's bond.' I did this
+believing you would not question me farther; but if you desire to read
+it over, I 'll break the envelope at once."
+
+"No, no; nothing of the kind. Leave it just as it is."
+
+"So that," said Sewell, pursuing his former line of thought, "this man
+not alone defrauded me, but he sowed dissension between me and my wife.
+Her faith is shaken in him, I have no doubt, but she 'll not confess it.
+Like a genuine woman, she will persist in asserting the convictions
+she has long ceased to be held by, and quote this stupid letter of her
+father in the face of every fact.
+
+"I ought not to have got into these things," said Sewell, as he walked
+impatiently down the room. "These family bedevilments should be kept
+from one's friends; but the murder is out now, and you can see how
+I stand--and see besides, that if I am not always able to control my
+temper, a friend might find an excuse for me."
+
+Cave gave a kindly nod of assent to this, not wishing, even by a word,
+to increase the painful embarrassment of the scene.
+
+"Heigh ho!" cried Sewell, throwing himself down in a chair, "there's one
+care off my heart, at least! I can remember a time when a night's bad
+luck would n't have cost me five minutes of annoyance; but nowadays
+I have got it so hot and so heavy from fortune, I begin not to know
+myself." Then, with a sudden change of tone, he added: "When are you
+coming out to us again? Shall we say Tuesday?"
+
+"We are to be inspected on Tuesday. Trafford writes me that he is coming
+over with General Halkett,--whom, by the way, he calls a Tartar,--and
+says, 'If the Sewells are within hail, say a kind word to them on my
+part.'"
+
+"A good sort of fellow, Trafford," said Sewell, carelessly.
+
+"An excellent fellow,--no better living!"
+
+"A very wide-awake one too," said Sewell, with one eye closed, and a
+look of intense cunning.
+
+"I never thought so. It is, to my notion, to the want of that faculty he
+owes every embarrassment he has ever suffered. He is unsuspecting to a
+fault."
+
+"It's not the way _I_ read him; though, perhaps, I think as well of him
+as _you_ do. I 'd say that for his years he is one of the very shrewdest
+young fellows I ever met."
+
+"You astonish me! May I ask if you know him well?"
+
+"Our acquaintance is not of very old date, but we saw a good deal of
+each other at the Cape. We rode out frequently, dined, played, and
+conversed freely together; and the impression he made upon me was that
+every sharp lesson the world had given him he 'd pay back one day or
+other with a compound interest."
+
+"I hope not,--I fervently hope not!" cried Cave. "I had rather hear
+to-morrow that he had been duped and cheated out of half his fortune
+than learn he had done one act that savored of the--the--" He stopped,
+unable to finish, for he could not hit upon the word that might be
+strong enough for his meaning, and yet not imply an offence.
+
+"Say blackleg. Is n't that what you want? There's my wife's pony chaise.
+I 'll get a seat back to the Nest. Goodbye, Cave. If Wednesday is open,
+give it to us, and tell Trafford I'd be glad to see him."
+
+Cave sat down as the door closed after the other, and tried to recall
+his thoughts to something like order. What manner of man was that who
+had just left him? It was evidently a very mixed nature. Was it the good
+or the evil that predominated? Was the unscrupulous tone he displayed
+the result of a spirit of tolerance, or was it the easy indifference of
+one who trusted nothing,--believed nothing?
+
+Was it possible his estimate of Trafford could be correct? and
+could this seemingly generous and open manner cover a nature cold,
+calculating, and treacherous? No, no. _That_ he felt to be totally out
+of the question.
+
+He thought long and intently over the matter, but to no end; and as he
+arose to deposit the papers left by Sewell in his writing-desk, he felt
+as unsettled and undecided as when he started on the inquiry.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE RACES ON THE LAWN
+
+A bright October morning, with a blue sky and a slight, very slight
+feeling of frost in the air, and a gay meeting on foot and horseback on
+the lawn before the Swan's Nest, made as pretty a picture as a painter
+of such scenes could desire. I say of such scenes, because in the
+_tableau de genre_ it is the realistic element that must predominate,
+and the artist's skill is employed in imparting to very commonplace
+people and costumes whatever poetry can be lent them by light and shade,
+by happy groupings, and, more than all these, by the insinuation of
+some incident in which they are the actors,--a sort of storied interest
+pervading the whole canvas, which gives immense pleasure to those who
+have little taste for the fine arts.
+
+There was plenty of color even in the landscape. The mountains had put
+on their autumn suit, and displayed every tint from a pale opal to
+a deep and gorgeous purple, while the river ran on in those circling
+eddies which come to the surface of water under sunshine as naturally as
+smiles to the face of flattered beauty.
+
+Colonel Sewell had invited the country-side to witness hack-races in his
+grounds, and the country-side had heartily responded to the invitation.
+There were the county magnates in grand equipages,--an earl with
+two postilions and outriders, a high sheriff with all his official
+splendors, squires of lower degree in more composite vehicles, and a
+large array of jaunting-cars, through all of which figured the red coats
+of the neighboring garrison, adding to the scene that tint of warmth in
+color so dear to the painter's heart.
+
+The wonderful beauty of the spot, combining, as it did, heath-clad
+mountain, and wood, and winding river, with a spreading lake in the
+distance, dotted with picturesque islands, was well seconded by
+a glorious autumnal day,--one of those days when the very air has
+something of champagne in its exhilarating quality, and gives to every
+breath of it a sense of stimulation.
+
+The first three races--they were on the flat--had gone off admirably.
+They were well contested, well ridden, and the "right horse" the winner.
+All was contentment, therefore, on every side, to which the interval of
+a pleasant moment of conviviality gave hearty assistance, for now came
+the hour of luncheon; and from the "swells" in the great marqu�e, and
+the favored intimates in the dining-room, to the assembled unknown in
+the jaunting-cars, merry laughter issued, with clattering of plates
+and popping of corks, and those commingled sounds of banter and jollity
+which mark such gatherings.
+
+The great event of the day was, however, yet to come off. It was a
+hurdle race, to which two stiff fences were to be added, in the shape
+of double ditches, to test the hunting powers of the horses. The hurdles
+were to be four feet eight in height, so that the course was by no means
+a despicable one, even to good cross-country riders. To give increased
+interest to the race, Sewell himself was to ride, and no small share
+of eagerness existed amongst the neighboring gentry to see how the
+new-comer would distinguish himself in the saddle,--some opining he
+was too long of leg; some, that he was too heavy; some, that men of his
+age--he was over five-and-thirty--begin to lose nerve; and many going
+so far as to imply "that he did not look like riding,"--a judgment whose
+vagueness detracts nothing from its force.
+
+"There he goes now, and he sits well down too!" cried one, as a group
+of horsemen swept past, one of whom, mounted on a "sharp" pony, led
+the way, a white macintosh and loose overalls covering him from head to
+foot. They were off to see that the fences were all being properly put
+up, and in an instant were out of sight.
+
+"I'll back Tom Westenra against Sewell for a twenty-pound note," cried
+one, standing up on the seat of his car to proclaim the challenge.
+
+"I'll go further," shouted another,--"I 'll do it for fifty."
+
+"I 'll beat you both," cried out a third,--"I 'll take Tom even against
+the field."
+
+The object of all this enthusiasm was a smart, cleanshaven little
+fellow, with a good blue eye, and a pleasant countenance, who smoked his
+cigar on the seat of a drag near, and nodded a friendly recognition to
+their confidence.
+
+"If Joe Slater was well of his fall, I 'd rather have him than any one
+in the county," said an old farmer, true to a man of his own class and
+standing.
+
+"Here's one can beat them both!" shouted another; "here's Mr. Creagh of
+Liskmakerry!" and a thin, ruddy-faced, keen-eyed man of about fifty
+rode by on a low-sized horse, with that especial look of decision in his
+mouth, and a peculiar puckering about the corners that seem to belong to
+those who traffic in horse-flesh, and who, it would appear, however much
+they may know about horses, understand humanity more thoroughly still.
+
+"Are you going to ride, Creagh?" cried a friend from a high tax-cart.
+
+"Maybe so, if the fences are not too big for me;" and a very malicious
+drollery twinkled in his gray eye.
+
+"Faix, and if they are," said a farmer, "the rest may stay at home."
+
+"I hope you 'll ride, Creagh," said the first speaker, "and not let
+these English fellows take the shine out of us. Yourself and Tom are the
+only county names on the card."
+
+"Show it to me," said Creagh, listlessly; and he took the printed list
+in his hand and conned it over, as though it had all been new to him.
+"They 're all soldiers, I see," said he. "It's Major This, and Captain
+That--Who is the lady?" This question was rapidly called forth by a
+horsewoman who rode past at an easy canter in the midst of a group of
+men. She was dressed in a light-gray habit and hat of the same color,
+from which a long white feather encircling the hat hung on one side.
+
+"That's Mrs. Sewell,--what do you think of her riding?"
+
+"If her husband has as neat a hand, I 'd rather he was out of the
+course. She knows well what she 's about."
+
+"They say there's not her equal in the park in London."
+
+"That's not park riding; that's something very different, take my word
+for it. She could lead half the men here across the country."
+
+Nor was she unworthy of the praise, as, with her hand low, her head a
+little forward, but her back well curved in, she sat firmly down in her
+saddle; giving to the action of the horse that amount of movement that
+assisted the animal, but never more. The horse was mettlesome enough to
+require all her attention. It was his first day under a sidesaddle, and
+he chafed at it, and when the heavy skirt smote his flank, bounded with
+a lunge and a stroke of his head that showed anger.
+
+"That's a four-hundred guinea beast she 's on. He belongs to the tall
+young fellow that's riding on her left."
+
+"I like his own horse better,--the liver-chestnut with the short legs. I
+wish I had a loan of him for the hurdle-race."
+
+"Ask him, Phil; or get the mistress there to ask him," said another,
+laughing. "I 'm mighty mistaken or he wouldn't refuse her."
+
+"Oh, is that it?" said Creagh, with a knowing look.
+
+"So they tell me here, for I don't know one of them myself; but the
+story goes that she was to have married that young fellow when Sewell
+earned her off."
+
+"I must go and get a better look at her," said Creagh, as he spurred his
+horse and cantered away.
+
+"Is any one betting?" said little Westenra, as he descended from his
+seat on the drag. "I have not seen a man to-day with five pounds on the
+race."
+
+"Here's Sewell," muttered another; "he's coming up now, and will give or
+take as much as you like."
+
+"Did you see Mrs. Sewell, any of you?" asked Sewell, cavalierly, as he
+rode up with an open telegram in his hand; and as the persons addressed
+were for the most part his equals, none responded to the insolent
+demand.
+
+"Could you tell me, sir," said Sewell, quickly altering his tone, while
+he touched his hat to Westenra, "if Mrs. Sewell passed this way?"
+
+"I haven't the honor to know Mrs. Sewell, but I saw a lady ride past,
+about ten minutes ago, on a black thoroughbred."
+
+"Faix, and well she rode him too," broke in an old farmer.
+
+"She took the posy out of that young gentleman's button-hole, while her
+beast was jumping, and stuck it in her breast, as easy as I 'm sitting
+here."
+
+Sewel's face grew purple as he darted a look of savage anger at the
+speaker, and, turning his horse's head, he dashed out at speed and
+disappeared.
+
+"Peter Delaney," said Westenra, "I thought you had more discretion than
+to tell such a story as that."
+
+"Begorra, Mister Tom! I didn't know the mischief I was making till I saw
+the look he gave me!"
+
+It was not till after a considerable search that Sewell came up with
+his wife's party, who were sauntering leisurely along the river-side,
+through a gorse-covered slope.
+
+"I 've had a devil of a hunt after you!" he cried, as he rode up, and
+the ringing tone of his voice was enough to intimate to her in what
+temper he spoke. "I 've something to say to you," said he, as though
+meant for her private ear; and the others drew back, and suffered them
+to ride on together. "There 's a telegram just come from that old beast
+the Chief Baron; he desires to see me to-night. The last train leaves
+at five, and I shall only hit it by going at once. Can't you keep your
+horse quiet, Madam, or must you show off while I 'm speaking to you?"
+
+"It was the furze that stung him," said she, coldly, and not showing the
+slightest resentment at his tone.
+
+"If the old bear means anything short of dying, and leaving me his heir,
+this message is a shameful swindle."
+
+"Do you mean to go?" asked she, coldly.
+
+"I suppose so; that is," added he, with a bitter grin, "if I can tear
+myself away from _you_;" but she only smiled.
+
+"I 'll have to pay a forfeit in this match," continued he, "and my book
+will be all smashed, besides. I say," cried he, "would Trafford ride for
+me?"
+
+"Perhaps he would."
+
+"None of your mock indifference, Madam. I can't afford to lose a
+thousand pounds every time you have a whim. Ay, look astonished if you
+like! but if you had n't gone into the billiard-room on Saturday evening
+and spoiled my match, I 'd have escaped that infernal whist-table.
+Listen to me now! Tell him that I have been sent for suddenly,--it might
+be too great a risk for me to refuse to go,--and ask him to ride
+Crescy; if he says Yes,--and he will say yes if you ask him as you
+_ought_,"--her cheek grew crimson as he uttered the last word with a
+strong emphasis,--"tell him to take up my book. Mind you use the words
+'take up;' _he'll_ understand you."
+
+"But why not say all this yourself?--he 's riding close behind at this
+minute."
+
+"Because I have a wife, Madam, who can do it so much better; because I
+have a wife who plucks a carnation out of a man's coat, and wears it in
+her bosom, and this on an open race-course, where people can talk of it!
+and a woman with such rare tact ought to be of service to her husband,
+eh?" She swayed to and fro in her saddle for an instant as though about
+to fall, but she grasped the horn with both hands and saved herself.
+
+"Is that all?" muttered she, faintly.
+
+"Not quite. Tell Trafford to come round to my dressing-room, and I 'll
+give him a hint or two about the horse. He must come at once, for I have
+only time to change my clothes and start. You can make some excuse
+to the people for my absence; say that the old Judge has had another
+attack, and I only wish it may be true. Tell them I got a telegram, and
+_that_ may mean anything. Trafford will help you to do the honors, and
+I 'll swear him in as viceroy before I go. Is n't that all that could
+be asked of me?" The insolence of his look as he said this made her turn
+away her head as though sickened and disgusted.
+
+"They want you at the weighing-stand, Colonel Sewell," said a gentleman,
+riding up.
+
+"Oh, they do! Well, say, please, that I 'm coming. Has he given you that
+black horse?" asked he, in a hurried whisper.
+
+"No; he offered him, but I refused."
+
+"You had no right to refuse; he's strong enough to carry _me_; and the
+ponies that I saw led round to the stable-yard, whose are they?"
+
+"They are Captain Trafford's."
+
+"You told him you thought them handsome, I suppose, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, I think them very beautiful."
+
+"Well, don't take them as a present. Win them if you like at piquet or
+�cart�,--any way you please, but don't take them as a gift, for I heard
+Westenra say they were meant for you."
+
+She nodded; and as she bent her head, a smile, the very strangest,
+crossed her features. If it were not that the pervading expression of
+her face was at the instant melancholy, the look she gave him would have
+been almost devilish.
+
+"I have something else to say, but I can't remember it."
+
+"You don't know when you'll be back?" asked she, carelessly.
+
+"Of course not,--how can I? I can only promise that I'll not arrive
+unexpectedly, Madam; and I take it that's as much as any gentleman can
+be called on to say. Bye-bye."
+
+"Good-bye," said she, in the same tone.
+
+"I see that Mr. Balfour is here. I can't tell who asked him; but mind
+you don't invite him to luncheon; take no notice of him whatever;
+he'll not bet a guinea; never plays; never risks anything,--even his
+_affections!_"
+
+"What a creature!"
+
+"Isn't he! There! I'll not detain you from pleasanter company; good-bye;
+see you here when I come back, I suppose?"
+
+"Most probably," said she, with a smile; and away he rode, at a tearing
+gallop, for his watch warned him that he was driven to the last minute.
+
+"My husband has been sent for to town, Captain Traf-ford," said she,
+turning her head towards him as he resumed his place at her side; "the
+Chief Baron desires to see him immediately, and he sets off at once."
+
+"And his race? What 's to become of his match?"
+
+"He said I was to ask you to ride for him."
+
+"Me--I ride! Why, I am two stone heavier than he is."
+
+"I suppose he knew that," said she, coldly, and as if the matter was
+one of complete indifference to her. "I am only delivering a message,"
+continued she, in the same careless tone; "he said, 'Ask Captain
+Trafford to ride for me and take up my book; 'I was to be particular
+about the phrase 'take up;' I conclude you will know what meaning to
+attach to it."
+
+"I suspect I do," said he, with a low soft laugh.
+
+"And I was to add something about hints he was to give you, if you 'd
+go round to his dressing-room at once; indeed, I believe you have little
+time to spare."
+
+"Yes, I'll go,--I 'll go now; only there 's one thing I 'd like to
+ask--that is--I'd be very glad to know--"
+
+"What is it?" said she, after a pause, in which his confusion seemed to
+increase with every minute.
+
+"I mean, I should like to know whether you wished me to ride this race
+or not?"
+
+"Whether _I_ wished it?" said she, in a tone of astonishment.
+
+"Well, whether you cared about the matter one way or other?" replied he,
+in still deeper embarrassment.
+
+"How could it concern me, my dear Captain Trafford?" said she, with an
+easy smile; "a race never interests me much, and I 'd just as soon see
+Blue and Orange come in as Yellow and Black; but you 'll be late if you
+intend to see my husband; I think you 'd better make haste."
+
+"So I will, and I 'll be back immediately," said he, not sorry to escape
+a scene where his confusion was now making him miserable.
+
+"You _are_ a very nice horse!" said she, patting the animal's neck, as
+he chafed to dash off after the other. "I 'd like very much to own you;
+that is, if I ever was to call anything my own."
+
+"They 're clearing the course, Mrs. Sewell," said one of her companions,
+riding up; "we had better turn off this way, and ride down to the
+stand."
+
+"Here's a go!" cried another, coming up at speed. "Big Trafford is going
+to ride Crescy; he 's well-nigh fourteen stone."
+
+"Not thirteen: I 'll lay a tenner on it."
+
+"He can ride a bit," said a third.
+
+"I 'd rather he 'd ride his own horse than mine."
+
+"Sewell knows what he 's about, depend on 't."
+
+"That's his wife," whispered another; "I'm certain she heard you."
+
+Mrs. Sewell turned her head as she cantered along, and, in the strange
+smile her features wore, seemed to confirm the speaker's words; but the
+hurry and bustle of the moment drowned all sense of embarrassment, and
+the group dashed onward to the stand.
+
+Leaving that heaving, panting, surging tide of humanity for an instant,
+let us turn to the house, where Sewell was already engaged in preparing
+for the road.
+
+"You are going to ride for me, Trafford?" said Sewell, as the other
+entered his dressing-room, where, with the aid of his servant, he was
+busily packing up for the road.
+
+"I 'm not sure; that is, I don't like to refuse, and I don't see how to
+accept."
+
+"My wife has told you; I 'm sent for hurriedly."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well?" said he, looking round at him from his task.
+
+"Just as I have told you already; I 'd ride for you as well as a heavy
+fellow could take a light-weight's place, but I don't understand about
+your book--am I to stand your engagements?"
+
+"You mean, are you to win all the money I'm sure to pocket on the
+match?"
+
+"No, I don't mean that," said he, laughing; "I never thought of trading
+on another man's brains; I simply meant, am I to be responsible for the
+losses?"
+
+"If you ride Crescy as you ought to ride him, you needn't fret about the
+losses?"
+
+"But suppose that I do not--and the case is a very possible one--that,
+not knowing your horse--"
+
+"Take this portmanteau down, Bob, and the carpet-bag; I shall only lose
+my train," said Sewell, with a gesture of hot impatience; and as the
+servant left the room, he added: "Pray don't think any more about this
+stupid race; scratch Crescy, and tell my wife that it was a change of
+mind on "my" part,--that I did not wish you to ride; good-bye;" and he
+waved a hasty adieu with his hand, as though to dismiss him at once.
+
+"If you 'll let me ride for you, I 'll do my best," blundered out
+Trafford; "when I spoke of your engagements, it was only to prepare you
+for what perhaps you were not aware of, that I 'm not very well off just
+now, and that if anything like a heavy sum--"
+
+"You are a most cautious fellow; I only wonder how you ever did get into
+a difficulty; but I 'm not the man to lead you astray, and wreck such
+splendid principles; adieu!"
+
+"I 'll ride, let it end how it may!" said Trafiford, angrily, and left
+the room at once, and hurried downstairs.
+
+Sewell gave a parting look at himself in the glass; and as he set his
+hat jauntily on one side, said, "There 's nothing like a little mock
+indignation to bully fellows of _his_ stamp; the keynote of their
+natures is the dread of being thought mean, and particularly of being
+thought mean by a woman." He laughed pleasantly at this conceit, and
+went on his way.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. SEWELL ARRIVES IN DUBLIN
+
+It was late at night when Sewell reached town. An accidental delay to
+the train deferred the arrival for upwards of an hour after the usual
+time; and when he reached the Priory, the house was all closed for the
+night, and not a light to be seen.
+
+He knocked, however, and rang boldly; and after a brief delay, and
+considerable noise of unbolting and unbarring, was admitted. "We gave
+you up, sir, after twelve o'clock," said the butler, half reproachfully,
+"and his Lordship ordered the servants to bed. Miss Lendrick, however,
+is in her drawing-room still."
+
+"Is there anything to eat, my good friend? That is what I stand most in
+need of just now."
+
+"There's a cold rib of beef, sir, and a grouse pie; but if you 'd like
+something hot, I 'll call the cook."
+
+"No, no, never mind the cook; you can give me some sherry, I 'm sure?"
+
+"Any wine you please, sir. We have excellent Madeira, which ain't to be
+had everywhere nowadays."
+
+"Madeira be it, then; and order a fire in my room. I take it you have a
+room for me?"
+
+"Yes, sir, all is ready; the bath was hot about an hour ago, and I 'll
+have it refreshed in a minute."
+
+"Now for the grouse pie. By the way, Fenton, what is the matter with his
+Lordship? He was n't ill, was he, when he sent off that despatch to me?"
+
+"No, sir; he was in court to-day, and he dined at the Castle, and was in
+excellent spirits before he went out."
+
+"Has anything gone wrong, then, that he wanted me up so hurriedly?"
+
+"Well, sir, it ain't so easy to say, his Lordship excites himself so
+readily; and mayhap he had words with some of the judges,--mayhap with
+his Excellency, for they 're always at him about resigning, little
+knowing that if they 'd only let him alone he 'd go of himself, but if
+they press him he 'll stay on these twenty years."
+
+"I don't suspect he has got so many as twenty years before him."
+
+"If he wants to live, sir, he 'll do it. Ah, you may laugh, sir, but I
+have known him all my life, and I never saw the man like him to do the
+thing he wishes to do."
+
+"Cut me some of that beef, Fenton, and fetch me some draught beer. How
+these old tyrants make slaves of their servants," said he, aloud, as the
+man left the room,--"a slavery that enthralls mind as well as body."
+A gentle tap came to the door, and before Sewell could question the
+summons, Miss Lendrick entered. She greeted him cordially, and said how
+anxiously her grandfather had waited for him till midnight. "I don't
+know when I saw him so eager or so impatient," she said.
+
+"Have you any clew to his reason for sending for me?" said he, as he
+continued to eat, and assumed an air of perfect unconcern.
+
+"None whatever. He came into my room about two o'clock, and told me to
+write his message in a good bold hand; he seemed in his usual health,
+and his manner displayed nothing extraordinary. He questioned me about
+the time it would take to transmit the message from the town to your
+house, and seemed satisfied when I said about half an hour."
+
+"It's just as likely, perhaps, to be some caprice,--some passing fancy."
+
+She shook her head dissentingly, but made no reply.
+
+"I believe the theory of this house is, 'he can do no wrong,'" said
+Sewell, with a laugh.
+
+"He is so much more able in mind than all around him, such a theory
+might prevail; but I 'll not go so far as to say that it does."
+
+"It's not his mind gives him his pre-eminence, Miss Lucy,--it's his
+temper; it's that same strong will that overcomes weaker natures by dint
+of sheer force. The people who assert their own way in life are not the
+most intellectual, they are only the best bullies."
+
+"You know very little of grandpapa, Colonel Sewell, that's clear."
+
+"Are you so sure of that?" asked he, with a dubious-smile.
+
+"I _am_ sure of it, or in speaking of him you would never have used such
+a word as bully."
+
+"You mistake me,--mistake me altogether, young lady. I spoke of a class
+of people who employ certain defects of temper to supply the place of
+certain gifts of intellect; and if your grandfather, who has no occasion
+for it, chooses to take a weapon out of their armory, the worse taste
+his."
+
+Lucy turned fiercely round, her face flushed, and her lip trembling.
+An angry reply darted through her mind, but she repressed it by a great
+effort, and in a faint voice she said, "I hope you left Mrs. Sewell
+well?"
+
+"Yes, perfectly well, amusing herself vastly. When I saw her last, she
+had about half a dozen young fellows cantering on either side of her,
+saying, doubtless, all those pleasant things that you ladies like to
+hear."
+
+Lucy shrugged her shoulders, without answering.
+
+"Telling you," continued he, in the same strain, "that if you are
+unmarried you are angels, and that if married you are angels and martyrs
+too; and it is really a subject that requires investigation, how
+the best of wives is not averse to hearing her husband does not half
+estimate her. Don't toss your head so impatiently, my dear Miss Lucy; I
+am giving you the wise precepts of a very thoughtful life."
+
+"I had hoped, Colonel Sewell, that a very thoughtful life might have
+brought forth pleasanter reflections." "No, that is precisely what it
+does not do. To live as long as I have, is to arrive at a point when all
+the shams have been seen through, and the world exhibits itself pretty
+much as a stage during a day rehearsal."
+
+"Well, sir, I am too young to profit by such experiences, and I will
+wish you a very good-night,--that is, if I can give no orders for
+anything you wish."
+
+"I have had everything. I will finish this Madeira--to your health--and
+hope to meet you in the morning, as beautiful and as trustful as I see
+you now,--_felice notte_." He bowed as he opened the door for her to
+pass out, and she went, with a slight bend of the head and a faint
+smile, and left him.
+
+"How I could make you beat your wings against your cage, for all your
+bravery, if I had only three days here, and cared to do it," said he, as
+he poured the rest of the wine into his glass. "How weary I could make
+you of this old house and its old owner. Within one month--one short
+month--I 'd have you repeating as wise saws every sneer and every
+sarcasm that you just now took fire at. And if I am to pass three days
+in this dreary old dungeon, I don't see how I could do better. What can
+he possibly want with me?" All the imaginable contingencies he could
+conjure up now passed before his mind. That the old man was sick
+of solitude, and wanted him to come and live with them; that he was
+desirous of adopting one of the children, and which of them? then,
+that he had held some correspondence with Fossbrooke, and wanted some
+explanations,--a bitter pang, that racked and tortured him while he
+revolved it; and, last of all, he came back to his first guess,--it was
+about his will he had sent for him. He had been struck by the beauty
+of the children, and asked their names and ages twice or thrice over;
+doubtless he was bent on making some provision for them. "I wish I could
+tell him that I'd rather have ten thousand down, than thrice the sum
+settled on Reginald and the girls. I wish I could explain to him that
+mine is a ready-money business, and that cash is the secret of success;
+and I wish I could show him that no profits will stand the reverses of
+loans raised at two hundred per cent! I wonder how the match went off
+to-day; I'd like to have the odds that there were three men down at
+the double rail and bank." Who got first over the brook, was his next
+speculation, and where was Trafford? "If he punished Crescy, I think I
+could tell _that_," muttered he, with a grin of malice. "I only wish I
+was there to see it;" and in the delight this thought afforded he tossed
+off his last glass of wine, and rang for his bedroom candle.
+
+"At what time shall I call you, sir?" asked the butler.
+
+"When are you stirring here,--I mean, at what hour does Sir William
+breakfast?"
+
+"He breakfasts at eight, sir, during term; but he does not expect to see
+any one but Miss Lucy so early."
+
+"I should think not. Call me at eleven, then, and bring me some coffee
+and a glass of rum when you come. Do you mean to tell me," said he, in a
+somewhat stern tone, "that the Chief Baron gets up at seven o'clock?"
+
+"In term-time, sir, he does every day."
+
+"Egad! I 'm well pleased that I have not a seat on the Bench. I 'd not
+be Lord Chancellor at that price."
+
+"It 's very hard on the servants, sir,--very hard indeed."
+
+"I suppose it is," said Sewell, with a treacherous twinkle of the eye.
+
+"If it was n't that I'm expecting the usher's place in the Court, I 'd
+have resigned long ago."
+
+"His Lordship's pleasant temper, however, makes up for everything,
+Fenton, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir, that's true;" and they both laughed heartily at the pleasant
+conceit; and in this merry humor they went their several ways to bed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+
+Sewell was awoke from a sound and heavy sleep by the Chief Baron's valet
+asking if it was his pleasure to see his Lordship before he went down to
+Court, in which case there was not much time to be lost.
+
+"How soon does he go?" asked Sewell, curtly.
+
+"He likes to be on the Bench by eleven exactly, sir, and he has always
+some business in Chamber first."
+
+"All that tells me nothing, my good friend. How much time have I now to
+catch him in before he starts?"
+
+"Half an hour, sir. Forty minutes, at most."
+
+"Well, I 'll try and do it. Say I 'm in my bath, and that I 'll be with
+him immediately."
+
+The man was not well out of the room when Sewell burst out into a
+torrent of abuse of the old Judge and his ways: "His inordinate vanity,
+his consummate conceit, to imagine that any activity of an old worn-out
+intellect like his could be of service to the public! If he knew but
+all, he is just as useful in his nightcap as in his wig, and it would
+be fully as dignified to sleep in his bed as in the Court of Exchequer."
+While he poured forth this invective, he dressed himself with all
+possible haste; indeed his ill-temper stimulated his alacrity, and he
+very soon issued from his room, trying to compose his features into a
+semblance of pleasure on meeting with his host.
+
+"I hope and trust I have not disturbed you unreasonably," said the
+Judge, rising from the breakfast-table, as Sewell entered. "I know you
+arrived very late, and I 'd have given you a longer sleep if it were in
+my power."
+
+"An old soldier, my Lord, knows how to manage with very little. I am
+only sorry if I have kept you waiting."
+
+"No man ever presumed to keep me waiting, sir. It is a slight I have yet
+to experience."
+
+"I mean, my Lord, it would have grieved me much had I occasioned you an
+inconvenience."
+
+"If you had, sir, it might have reacted injuriously upon yourself."
+
+Sewell bowed submissively, for what he knew not; but he surmised that
+as there was an opening for regret, there might also be a reason for
+gratitude; he waited to see if he were right.
+
+"My telegram only told you that I wanted you; it could not say for
+what," continued the Judge; and his voice still retained the metallic
+ring the late irritation had lent it.
+
+"There has been a contested question between the Crown and myself as to
+the patronage to an office in my Court. I have carried my point. They
+have yielded. They would have me believe that they have submitted out
+of deference to myself personally, my age, and long services. I know
+better, sir. They have taken the opinion of the Solicitor-General in
+England, who, with no flattering opinion of what is called 'Irish law,'
+has pronounced against them. The gift of the office rests with me, and
+it is my intention to confer it upon _you_."
+
+"Oh, my Lord, I have no words to express my gratitude!"
+
+"Very well, sir, it shall be assumed to have been expressed. The salary
+is one thousand a year. The duties are almost nominal."
+
+"I was going to ask, my Lord, whether my education and habits are such
+as would enable me to discharge these duties?"
+
+"I respect your conscientious scruple, sir. It is creditable and
+commendable. Your mind may, however, be at ease. Your immediate
+predecessor passed the last thirteen years at Tours, in France, and
+there was never a complaint of official irregularity till, three
+years ago, when he came over to afford his substitute a brief leave of
+absence, he forgot to sign his name to certain documents,--a mistake the
+less pardonable that his signature formed his whole and sole official
+drudgery."
+
+It was on Sewell's lips to say, "that if _he_ had not signed his name a
+little too frequently in life, his difficulties would not have been such
+as they now were."
+
+"I am afraid I did not catch what you said, sir," said the Judge.
+
+"I did not speak, my Lord," replied he, bowing.
+
+"You will see, therefore, sir, that the details of your official life
+need not deter you, although I have little doubt the Ministerial
+press will comment sharply upon your absence, if you give them the
+opportunity, and will reflect severely upon your unfitness, if they can
+detect a flaw in you. Is there anything, therefore, in your former life
+to which these writers can refer--I will not say disparagingly--but
+unpleasantly?"
+
+"I am not aware, my Lord, of anything."
+
+"Of course, sir, I could not mean what might impugn your honor or
+affect your fame. I spoke simply of what soldiers are, perhaps,
+more exposed to than civilians,--the lighter scandals of society. You
+apprehend me?"
+
+"I do, my Lord; and, I repeat that I have a very easy conscience on
+this score: for though I have filled some rather responsible stations at
+times, and been intrusted with high functions, all my tastes and habits
+have been so domestic and quiet--I have been so much more a man of home
+than a man of pleasure--that I have escaped even the common passing
+criticisms bestowed on people who are before the world."
+
+"Is this man--this Sir Brook Fossbrooke--one likely to occasion you any
+trouble?"
+
+"In the first place, my Lord, he is out of the country, not very likely
+to return to it; and secondly, it is not in his power--not in any man 's
+power--to make me a subject for attack."
+
+"You are fortunate, sir; more fortunate than men who have served their
+country longer. It will scarcely be denied that I have contributed to
+the public service, and yet, sir, _I_ have been arraigned before the
+bar of that insensate jury they call Public Opinion, and it is only in
+denying the jurisdiction I have deferred the award."
+
+Sewell responded to the vainglorious outburst by a look of admiring
+wonder, and the Judge smiled a gracious acceptance of the tribute. "I
+gather, therefore, sir, that you can accept this place without fear of
+what scandal or malignity may assail you by--"
+
+"Yes, my Lord, I can say as much with confidence."
+
+"It is necessary, sir, that I should be satisfied on this-head. The very
+essence of the struggle between the Crown and myself is in the fact
+that _my_ responsibility is pledged, _my_ reputation is in bond for the
+integrity and the efficiency of this officer, and I will not leave to
+some future biographer of the Irish Chief Barons of the Exchequer the
+task of apology for one who was certainly not the least eminent of the
+line."
+
+"Your Lordship's high character shall not suffer through me," said
+Sewell, bowing respectfully.
+
+"The matter, then, is so far settled; perhaps, however, you would like
+to consult your wife? She might be averse to your leaving the army."
+
+"No, my Lord. She wishes--she has long wished it. We are both domestic
+in our tastes, and we have always-been looking to the time when we could
+live more for each other, and devote ourselves to the education of our
+children."'
+
+"Commendable and praiseworthy," said the Judge, with a half grunt,
+as though he had heard something of this-same domesticity and
+home-happiness, but that his own experiences scarcely corroborated the
+report. "There are-certain steps you will have to take before leaving
+the service; it may, then, be better to defer your public nomination to
+this post till they be taken?"
+
+This, which was said in question, Sewell answered at once, saying,
+"There need be no delay on this score, my Lord; by this day week I shall
+be free."
+
+"On this day week, then, you shall be duly sworn in. Now, there is
+another point--I throw it out simply as a suggestion--you will not
+receive it as more if you are indisposed to it. It may be some time
+before you can find a suitable house or be fully satisfied where to
+settle down. There is ample room here; one entire wing is unoccupied.
+May I beg to place it at your disposal?"
+
+"Oh, my Lord, this is really too much kindness. You overwhelm me with
+obligations. I have never heard of such generosity."
+
+"Sir, it is not all generosity,--I reckon much on the value of your
+society. Your companionable qualities are gifts I would secure by a
+'retainer.'"
+
+"In your society, my Lord, the benefits would be all on my side."
+
+"There was a time, sir,--I may say it without boastful-ness,--men
+thought me an agreeable companion. The three Chiefs, as we were called
+from our separate Courts, were reputed to be able talkers. I am the sole
+survivor; and it would be a gain to those who care to look back on the
+really great days of Ireland, if some record should remain of a time
+when there were giants in the land. I have myself some very curious
+materials--masses of letters and such-like--which we may turn over some
+winter's evening together."
+
+Sewell professed his delight at such a prospect; and the Judge
+then, suddenly bethinking himself of the hour,--it was already nigh
+eleven,--arose. "Can I set you down anywhere? Are you for town?" asked
+he.
+
+"Yes, my Lord; I was about to pay my mother a visit."
+
+"I 'll drop you there; perhaps you would convey a message from me,
+and say how grateful I should feel if she would give us her company at
+dinner,--say seven o'clock. I will just step up to say good-bye to my
+granddaughter, and be with you immediately."
+
+Sewell had not time to bethink him of all the strange events which a few
+minutes had grouped around him, when the Chief Baron appeared, and they
+set out.
+
+As they drove along, their converse was most agreeable. Sewell's
+attentive manner was an admirable stimulant, and the old Judge was
+actually sorry to lose his companion, as the carriage stopped at Lady
+Lendrick's door.
+
+"What on earth brought you up, Dudley?" said she, as he entered the room
+where she sat at breakfast.
+
+"Let me have something to eat, and I 'll tell you," said he, seating
+himself at table, and drawing towards him a dish of cutlets. "You may
+imagine what an appetite I have when I tell you whose guest I am."
+
+"Whose?"
+
+"Your husband's."
+
+"You! at the Priory! and how came that to pass?"
+
+"I told you already I must eat before I talk. When I got downstairs this
+morning, I found the old man just finishing his breakfast, and instead
+of asking me to join him, he entertained me with the siege of Derry, and
+some choice anecdotes of Lord Bristol and 'the Volunteers.' This coffee
+is cold."
+
+"Ring, and they 'll bring you some."
+
+"If I am to take him as a type of Irish hospitality as well as Irish
+agreeability, I must say I get rid of two delusions together."
+
+"There 's the coffee. Will you have eggs?"
+
+"Yes, and a rasher along with them. You can afford to be liberal with
+the larder, mother, for I bring you an invitation to dine."
+
+"At the Priory?"
+
+"Yes; he said seven o'clock."
+
+"Who dines there?"
+
+"Himself and his granddaughter and I make the company, I believe."
+
+"Then I shall not go. I never do go when there 's not a party."
+
+"He's safer, I suppose, before people?"
+
+"Just so. I could not trust to his temper under the temptation of a
+family circle. But what Drought you to town?"
+
+"He sent for me by telegraph; just, too, when I had the whole county
+with me, and was booked to ride a match I had made with immense trouble.
+I got his message,--'Come up immediately.' There was not the slightest
+reason for haste, nor for the telegraph at all. The whole could have
+been done by letter, and replied to at leisure, besides--"
+
+"What was it, then?"
+
+"It is a place he has given me,--a Registrarship of something in his
+Court, that he has been fighting the Castle people about for eighteen
+years, and to which Heaven knows if he has the right of appointment this
+minute."
+
+"What'sit worth?"
+
+"A thousand a year net. There were pickings,--at least, the last man
+made a good thing of them,--but there are to be no more. We are
+to inaugurate, as the newspapers say, a reign of integrity and
+incorruptibility."
+
+"So much the better."
+
+"So much the worse," say I. "My motto is, Full batta and plenty of loot;
+and it's every man's motto, only that every man is not honest enough to
+own it."
+
+"And when are you to enter upon the duties of your office?"
+
+"Immediately. I 'm to be sworn in--there's an oath, it seems--this day
+week, and we 're to take up our abode at the Priory till we find a house
+to suit us."
+
+"At the Priory?"
+
+"Yes. May I light a cigarette, mother: only one? He gave the invitation
+most royally. A whole wing is to be at our disposal. He said nothing
+about the cook or the wine-cellar, and these are the very ingredients I
+want to secure."
+
+She shook her head dubiously, but made no answer.
+
+"You don't think, then, that he meant to have us as his guests?"
+
+"I think it unlikely."
+
+"How shall I find out? It's quite certain I 'll not go live under his
+roof--which means his surveillance--without an adequate compensation. I
+'ll only consent to being bored by being fed."
+
+"House-rent is something, however."
+
+"Yes, mother, but not everything. That old man would be inquiring who
+dined with me, how late he stayed, who came to supper, and what they did
+afterwards. Now, if he take the whole charge of us, I 'll put up with a
+great deal, because I could manage a little '_pied � terre_' somewhere
+about Kingstown or Dalkey, and 'carry on' pleasantly enough. You
+must find out his intentions, mother, before I commit myself to an
+acceptance. You must, indeed."
+
+"Take my advice, Dudley, and look out for a house at once. You 'll not
+be in _his_ three weeks."
+
+"I can submit to a great deal when it suits me, mother," said he, with a
+derisive smile, and a look of intense treachery at the same time.
+
+"I suppose you can," said she, nodding in assent. "How is she?"
+
+"As usual," said he, with a shrug of the shoulders.
+
+"And the children?"
+
+"They are quite well. By the way, before I forget it, don't let the
+Judge know that I have already sent in my papers to sell out. I want him
+to believe that I do so now in consequence of his offer."
+
+"It is not likely we shall soon meet, and I may not have an opportunity
+of mentioning the matter."
+
+"You 'll come to dinner to-day, won't you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You ought, even out of gratitude on _my_ account. It would be only
+commonly decent to thank him."
+
+"I could n't."
+
+"Couldn't what? Couldn't come, or couldn't thank him?"
+
+"Could n't do either. You don't know, Dudley, that whenever our
+intercourse rises above the common passing courtesies of mere
+acquaintanceship, it is certain to end in a quarrel. We must never
+condemn or approve. We must never venture upon an opinion, lest it lead
+to a discussion, for discussion means a fight."
+
+"Pleasant, certainly,--pleasant and amiable too!"
+
+"It would be better, perhaps, that I had some of that happy disposition
+of my son," said she, with a cutting tone, "and could submit to whatever
+suited me."
+
+He started as if he had seen something, and turning on her a look of
+passionate anger, began: "Is it from _you_ that this should come?" Then
+suddenly recollecting himself, he subdued his tone, and said: "We 'll
+not do better by losing our tempers. Can you put me in the way to raise
+a little money? I shall have the payment for my commission in about a
+fortnight; but I want a couple of hundred pounds at once."
+
+"It's not two months since you raised five hundred."
+
+"I know it, and there 's the last of it. I left Lucy ten sovereigns
+when I came away, and this twenty pounds is all that I now have in the
+world."
+
+"And all these fine dinners and grand entertainments that I have been
+told of,--what was the meaning of them?"
+
+"They were what the railway people call 'preliminary expenses,' mother.
+Before one can get fellows to come to a house where there is play, there
+must be a sort of easy style of good living established that all men
+like: excellent dinners and good wine are the tame elephants, and
+without them you 'll not get the wild ones into your 'compounds.'"
+
+"And to tell me that this could pay!"
+
+"Ay, and pay splendidly. If I had three thousand pounds in the world to
+carry on with, I 'd see the old Judge and his rotten place at Jericho
+before I 'd accept it. One needs a little capital, that's all. It's
+just like blockade-running,--you must be able to lose three for one you
+succeed with."
+
+"I see nothing but ruin--disreputable ruin--in such a course."
+
+"Come down and look at it, mother, and you 'll change your mind. You
+'ll own you never saw a better ordered society in your life,--the _beau
+id�al_ of a nice country-house on a small scale. I admit our _chef_ is
+not a Frenchman, and I have only one fellow out of livery; but the thing
+is well done, I promise you. As for any serious play, you 'll never
+hear of it--never suspect it--no more than a man turning over Leech's
+sketches in a dentist's drawing-room suspects there's a fellow getting
+his eye-tooth extracted in the next room."
+
+"I disapprove of it all, Dudley. It is sure to end ill."
+
+"For that matter, mother, so shall I! All I have asked from Fate this
+many a year is a deferred sentence; a long day, my Lord,--a long day!"
+
+"Tell Sir William I am sorry I can't dine at the Priory to-day. It is
+one of my cruel headache-days. Say you found me looking very poorly.
+It puts him in good-humor to hear it; and if you can get away in the
+evening, come in to tea."
+
+"You will think of this loan I want,--won't you?"
+
+"I 'll think of it, but I don't know what good thinking will do." She
+paused, and after a few minutes' silence, said, "If you really are
+serious about taking up your abode at the Priory, you 'll have to get
+rid of the granddaughter."
+
+"We could marry her off easily enough."
+
+"You might, and you mightn't. If she marry to Sir William's
+satisfaction, he'll leave her all he has in the world."
+
+"Egad, he must have a rare taste in a son-in-law if he likes the fellow
+I 'll promote to the place."
+
+"You seem to forget, Dudley, that the young lady has a will of her own.
+She's a Lendrick too."
+
+"With all my heart, mother. She 'll not be a match for Lucy."
+
+"And would _she_--"
+
+"Ay, would she," interrupted he, "if her pride as a woman--if her
+jealousy was touched. I have made her do more than that when I wounded
+her self-love!"
+
+"You are a very amiable husband, I must say."
+
+"We might be better, perhaps, mother; but I suspect we are pretty much
+like our neighbors. And it's positive you won't come to dinner?"
+
+"No! certainly not."
+
+"Well, I 'll try and look in at tea-time. You 'll not forget what I
+spoke of. I shall be in funds in less than three weeks."
+
+She gave a little incredulous laugh as she said "Goodbye!" She had heard
+of such pledges before, and knew well what faith to attach to them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. EVENING AT THE PRIORY
+
+The Chief Baron brought his friend Haire back from Court to dine with
+him. The table had been laid for five, and it was only when Sewell
+entered the drawing-room that it was known Lady Lendrick had declined
+the invitation. Sir William heard the apology to the end; he even waited
+when Sewell concluded, to see if he desired to add anything more, but
+nothing came.
+
+"In that case," said he, at length, "we 'll order dinner." That his
+irritation was extreme needed no close observation to detect, and the
+bell-rope came down with the pull by which he summoned the servant.
+
+The dinner proceeded drearily enough. None liked to adventure on a
+remark which might lead to something unpleasant in discussion, and
+little was spoken on any side. Sewell praised the mutton, and the
+Chief Baron bowed stiffly. When Haire remarked that the pale sherry was
+excellent, he dryly told the butler to "fill Mr. Haire's glass;" and
+though Lucy, with more caution, was silent, she did not escape, for he
+turned towards her and said, "We have not been favored with a word
+from your lips, Miss Lendrick; I hope these neuralgic headaches are not
+becoming a family affection."
+
+"I am perfectly well, sir," said she, with a smile.
+
+"It is Haire's fault, then," said the Judge, with one of his malicious
+twinkles of the eye,--"all Haire's fault if we are dull. It is ever so
+with wits, Colonel Sewell; they will not perform to empty benches."
+
+"I don't know whom you call a wit," began Haire.
+
+"My dear friend, the men of pleasantry and happy conceits must no more
+deny the reputation that attaches to them than must a rich merchant
+dishonor his bill; nor need a man resent more being called a Wit, than
+being styled a Poet, a Painter, a Chief Baron, or"--here he waved his
+hand towards Sewell, and bowing slightly, added--"a Chief Registrar to
+the Court of Exchequer."
+
+"Oh, have you got the appointment?" said Haire to the Colonel. "I am
+heartily glad of it. I 'm delighted to know it has been given to one of
+the family."
+
+"As I said awhile ago," said the Judge, with a smile of deeper malice,
+"these witty fellows spare nobody! At the very moment he praises the
+sherry he disparages the host. Why should not this place be filled by
+one of my family, Haire? I call upon you to show cause."
+
+"There's no reason against it. I never said there was. Nay, I was far
+from satisfied with you on the day you refused my prayer on behalf of
+one belonging to you."
+
+"Sir, you are travelling out of the record," said the Judge, angrily.
+
+"I can only say," added Haire, "that I wish Colonel Sewell joy with all
+my heart; and if he 'll allow me, I 'll do it in a bumper."
+
+"'A reason fair to drink his health again!' That 's not the line. How
+does it go, Lucy? Don't you remember the verse?"
+
+"No, sir; I never heard it."
+
+"'A reason fair,--a reason fair.' I declare I believe the newspapers are
+right. I am losing my memory. One of the scurrilous rascals t'other day
+said they saw no reason Justice should be deaf as well as blind. Haire,
+was that yours?"
+
+"A thousand a year," muttered Haire to Sewell.
+
+"What is that, Haire?" cried the old Judge. "Do I hear you aright? You
+utter one thousand things just as good every year?"
+
+"I was speaking of the Registrar's salary," said Haire, half testily.
+
+"A thousand a year is a pittance,--a mere pittance, sir, in a country
+like England. It is like the place at a window to see a procession. You
+may gaze on the passing tide of humanity, but must not dare to mix in
+it."
+
+"And yet papa went half across the globe for it," said Lucy, with a
+flushed and burning cheek.
+
+"In your father's profession the rewards are less money, Lucy, than the
+esteem and regard of society. I have ever thought it wise of our rulers
+not to bestow titles on physicians, but to leave them the unobtrusive
+and undistinguished comforters of every class and condition. The equal
+of any,--the companion of all."
+
+It was evident that the old Judge was eager for discussion on anything.
+He had tried in vain to provoke each of his guests, and he was almost
+irritable at the deference accorded him.
+
+"Do I see you pass the decanter, Colonel Sewell? Are you not drinking
+any wine?"
+
+"No, my Lord."
+
+"Perhaps you like coffee? Don't you think, Lucy, you could give him
+some?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I shall be delighted."
+
+"Very well. Haire and I will finish this magnum, and then join you in
+the drawing-room."
+
+Lucy took Sewells arm and retired. They were scarcely well out of the
+room when Sewell halted suddenly, and in a voice so artificial that, if
+Lucy had been given to suspectfulness, she would have detected at
+once, said, "Is the Judge always as pleasant and as witty as we saw him
+today?"
+
+"To-day he was very far from himself; something, I 'm sure, must have
+irritated him, for he was not in his usual mood."
+
+"I confess I thought him charming; so full of neat reply, pleasant
+apropos, and happy quotation."
+
+"He very often has days of all that you have just said, and I am
+delighted with them."
+
+"What an immense gain to a young girl--of course, I mean one whose
+education and tastes have fitted her for it--to be the companion of such
+a mind as his! Who is this Mr. Haire?"
+
+"A very old friend. I believe he was a schoolfellow of grandpapa's."
+
+"Not his equal, I suspect, in ability or knowledge."
+
+"Oh, nothing like it; a most worthy man, respected by every one, and
+devotedly attached to grandpapa, but not clever."
+
+"The Chief, I remarked, called him witty," said Sewell with a faint
+twinkle in his eye.
+
+"It was done in jest. He is fond of fathering on him the smart sayings
+of the day, and watching his attempts to disown them."
+
+"And Haire likes that?"
+
+"I believe he likes grandpapa in every mood he has."
+
+"What an invaluable friend! I wish to Heaven he could find such another
+for me. I want--there 's nothing I want more than some one who would
+always approve of me."
+
+"Perhaps you might push this fidelity further than grandpapa does," said
+she, with a smile.
+
+"You mean that it might not always be so easy to applaud _me_."
+
+She only laughed, and made no effort to disclaim the assertion.
+
+"Well," said he, with a sigh, "who knows but if I live to be old and
+rich I may be fortunate enough to have such an accommodating friend?
+Who are the other 'intimates' here? I ask because we are going to be
+domesticated also."
+
+"I heard so this morning."
+
+"I hope with pleasure, though you have n't said as much."
+
+"With pleasure, certainly; but with more misgiving than pleasure."
+
+"Pray explain this."
+
+"Simply that the very quiet life we lead here would not be endurable by
+people who like the world, and whom the world likes. We never see any
+one, we never go out, we-have not even those second-hand glances at
+society that people have who admit gossiping acquaintances; in fact,
+regard what you have witnessed to-day as a dinner-party, and then
+fashion for yourself our ordinary life."
+
+"And do _you_ like it?"
+
+"I know nothing else, and I am tolerably happy. If papa and Tom were
+here, I should be perfectly happy."
+
+"By Jove! you startle me," said he, throwing away the unlighted cigar
+he had held for some minutes in his fingers; "I did n't know it was so
+bad."
+
+"It is possible he may relax for you and Mrs. Sewell; indeed, I think it
+more than likely that he will."
+
+"Ay, but the relaxation might only be in favor of a few more like that
+old gent we had to-day. No, no; the thing will never work. I see it at
+once. My mother said we could not possibly stand it three weeks, and I
+perceive it is your opinion too."
+
+"I did not say so much," said she, smiling.
+
+"Joking apart," said he, in a tone that assuredly bespoke sincerity, "I
+could n't stand such a dinner as we had to-day very often. I can bear
+being bullied, for I was brought up to it. I served on Rolffe's staff in
+Bombay for four years, and when a man has been an aide-de-camp he knows
+what being bullied means; but what I could not endure is that outpouring
+of conceit mingled with rotten recollections. Another evening of it
+would kill me."
+
+"I certainly would not advise your coming here at that price," said she,
+with a gravity almost comical.
+
+"The difficulty is how to get off. He appears to me to resent as an
+affront everything that differs from his own views."
+
+"He is not accustomed to much contradiction."
+
+"Not to any at all!"
+
+The energy with which he said this made her laugh heartily, and he half
+smiled at the situation himself.
+
+"They are coming upstairs," said she; "will you ring for tea?--the bell
+is beside you."
+
+"Oh, if they 're coming I 'm off. I promised my mother a short visit
+this evening. Make my excuses if I am asked for;" and with this he
+slipped from the room and went his way.
+
+"Where's the Colonel, Lucy? Has he gone to bed?"
+
+"No, sir, he has gone to see his mother; he had made some engagement to
+visit her this evening."
+
+"This new school of politeness is too liberal for my taste. When we were
+young men, Haire, we would not have ventured to leave the house where we
+had dined without saluting the host."
+
+"I take it we must keep up with the spirit of our time." "You mistake,
+Haire,--it is the spirit of our time is in arrear. It is that same
+spirit lagging behind, and deserting the post it once occupied, makes
+us seem in default. Let us have the cribbage-board, Lucy. Haire has said
+all the smart things he means to give us this evening, and I will take
+my revenge at the only game at which I am his master. Haire, who reads
+men like a book, Lucy," continued the Chief, as he dealt the cards,
+"says that our gallant friend will rebel against our humdrum life here.
+I demur to the opinion,--what say you?" But he was now deep in his game,
+and never heeded the answer.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. SEWELL'S TROUBLES
+
+"A letter for you by the post, sir, and his Lordship's compliments to
+say he is waiting breakfast," were the first words which Sewell heard
+the next morning.
+
+"Waiting breakfast! Tell him not to wait,--I mean, make my respects to
+his Lordship, and say I feel very poorly to-day,--that I think I 'll not
+get up just yet."
+
+"Would you like to see Dr. Beattie, sir? He's in the drawing-room."
+
+"Nothing of the kind. It's a complaint I caught in India; I manage it
+myself. Bring me up some coffee and rum in about an hour, and mind,
+don't disturb me on any account till then. What an infernal house!"
+muttered he, as the man withdrew. "A subaltern called up for morning
+parade has a better life than this. Nine o'clock only! What can this old
+ass mean by this pretended activity? Upon whom can it impose? Who will
+believe that it signifies a rush whether he lay abed till noon or rose
+by daybreak?" A gentle tap came to the door, but as he made no reply
+there came after a pause another, a little louder. Sewell still
+preserved silence, and at last the sound of retiring footsteps along the
+corridor. "Not if I know it," muttered he to himself, as he turned round
+and fell off asleep again.
+
+"The coffee, sir, and a despatch; shall I sign the receipt for you?"
+said the servant, as he reappeared about noon.
+
+"Yes; open the window a little, and leave me."
+
+Leaning on his arm, he tore open the envelope and glanced at the
+signature,--"Lucy." He then read, "Send down Eccles or Beattie by next
+train; he is worse." He read and re-read this at least half-a-dozen
+times over before he bethought him of the letter that lay still unopened
+on the bed.
+
+He now broke the seal; it was also from his wife, dated the preceding
+evening, and very brief:--
+
+"Dear Dudley,--Captain Trafford has had a severe fall. Crescy balked
+at the brook and fell afterwards. Trafford was struck on the head as he
+rose by Mr. Creagh's horse. It is feared the skull is fractured. You
+are much blamed for having asked him to ride a horse so much under his
+weight. All have refused to accept their bets but Kinshela the grocer.
+I have written to Sir H. Trafford, and I telegraphed to him Dr. Tobin's
+opinion, which is not favorable. I suppose you will come back at once;
+if not, telegraph what you advise to be done. Mr. Balfour is here still,
+but I do not find he is of much use. The veterinary decided Crescy
+should be shot, as the plate-bone, I think he called it, was
+fractured; and as he was in great pain, I consented. I hope I have done
+right.--Yours truly,
+
+"Lucy Sewell."
+
+"Here's a go! a horse I refused four hundred and fifty for on Tuesday
+last! I _am_ a lucky dog, there 's no denying it. I did n't know there
+was a man in Europe could have made that horse balk his fence. What
+a rumpus to make about a fellow getting a 'cropper'! My share of the
+disaster is a deuced deal the worst. I 'll never chance on such a horse
+again. How am I to find either of these men?" muttered he, as he took up
+the telegram. He rang the bell violently, and scarcely ceased to pull at
+it till the servant entered.
+
+"Where does Dr. Eccles live?"
+
+"Sir Gilbert, sir?"
+
+"Ay, if he be Sir Gilbert."
+
+"Merrion Square, sir," said the man reproachfully, for he thought it
+rather hard to ignore one of the great celebrities of the land.
+
+"Take this note to him, that I 'll write now, and if he be from home go
+to the other man,--what's his name?--Beattie."
+
+"Dr. Beattie is coming to dinner to-day, sir," said the servant,
+thinking to facilitate matters.
+
+"Just do as I tell you, my good fellow, and don't interrupt. If I am to
+take up my quarters here, you'll all of you have to change some of
+your present habits." As he spoke, he dashed off a few hasty lines,
+addressing them to Sir Gilbert Eccles or Dr. Beattie. "Ask if it's 'all
+right;' that will be sufficient reply; and now send me my bath." As he
+proceeded with his dressing,--a very lengthy affair it always was,--he
+canvassed with himself whether or not he ought to take the train and
+go down to the country with the doctor. Possibly few men in such
+circumstances would have given the matter a doubt. The poor fellow who
+had incurred the mishap had been, at his insistence, acting for him. Had
+it not been for Se well's pressing this task upon him, Trafford would
+at that moment have been hale and hearty. Sewell knew all this well; he
+read the event just as nineteen out of every twenty would have read
+it, but having done so, he proceeded to satisfy himself why all these
+reasonings should give way to weightier considerations.
+
+First of all, it would not be quite convenient to let the old Judge know
+anything of these doings in the country. His strait-laced notions might
+revolt at races and betting-rings. It might not be perhaps decorous that
+a registrar of a high court should be the patron of such sports. These
+were prudential reasons, which he dilated on for some time. Then came
+some, others more sentimental. It was to a house of doctors and nurses
+and gloom and sorrow he should go back. All these were to him peculiarly
+distasteful. He should be tremendously "bored" by it all, and being
+"bored" was to him whatever was least tolerable in life. It was strange
+that there was one other reason stronger than all these,--a reason that
+really touched him in what was the nearest thing in his nature to heart.
+He couldn't go back and look at the empty loose-box where his favorite
+horse once stood, and where he was never to stand more. Crescy the
+animal he was so proud of,--the horse he counted on for who knows what
+future triumphs,--the first steeplechase horse, he felt convinced, in
+Ireland, if not in the kingdom,--such strength, such power in the loins,
+such square joints, such courage, should he ever see united again? If
+there was anything in that man's nature that represented affection, he
+had it for this horse. He knew well to what advantage he looked when on
+his back,--he knew what admiration and envy it drew upon him to see
+him thus mounted. He had won him at billiards from a man who was half
+broken-hearted at parting with him, and who offered immense terms rather
+than lose him.
+
+"He said I'd have no luck with him," muttered Sewell, now in his
+misery,--"and, confound the fellow! he was right. No, I can't go back to
+look at his empty stall. It would half kill me."
+
+It was very real grief, all this; he was as thoroughly heart-sore as it
+was possible for him to be. He sorrowed for what nothing in his future
+life could replace to him; and this is a very deep sorrow.
+
+Trafford's misfortune was so much the origin and cause of his own
+disaster that he actually thought of him with bitterness. The man who
+could make Crescy balk! What fate could be too hard for him?
+
+Nor was he quite easy in his mind about that passage in his wife's
+letter stating that men would not take their bets. Was this meant as
+reflecting upon him? Was it a censure on him for making Trafford ride
+a horse beneath his weight? "They get up some stupid cry of that sort,"
+muttered he, "as if I am not the heaviest loser of all. I lost a horse
+that was worth a score of Traffords."
+
+When dressed, Sewell went down to the garden and lit his cigar. His
+sorrow had grown calmer, and he began to think that in the new life
+before him he should have had to give up horses and sport of every kind.
+"I must make my book now on this old fellow, and get him to make me his
+heir. He cares little for his son, and he can be made to care just as
+little for his granddaughter. That's the only game open to me,--a dreary
+life it promises to be, but it's better than a jail."
+
+The great large wilderness of a garden, stretching away into an orchard
+at the end, was in itself a place to suggest sombre thoughts,--so
+silent and forsaken did it all appear. The fruit lay thick on the ground
+uncared for; the artichokes, grown to the height of shrubs, looked
+monsters of uncouthness; and even in the alleys flower-seeds had fallen
+and given birth to flowers, which struggled up through the gravel and
+hung their bright petals over the footway. There was in the neglect, the
+silence, the un-cared-for luxuriance of the place, all that could make
+a moody man moodier; and as he knocked off the great heads of the tall
+hollyhocks, he thought, and even said aloud, "This is about as much
+amusement as such a spot offers."
+
+"Oh no, not so bad as that," said a laughing voice; and Lucy peeped over
+a laurel-hedge with a rake in her hand, and seemed immensely amused at
+his discomfiture.
+
+[Illustration: 302]
+
+"Where are you?--I mean, how is one to come near you?" said he, trying
+to laugh, but not successfully.
+
+"Go round yonder by the fish-pond, and you 'll find a wicket. This is
+_my_ garden, and I till it myself."
+
+"So!" said he, entering a neat little enclosure, with beds of flowers
+and flowering shrubs, "this is your garden?"
+
+"Yes,--what do you think of it?"
+
+"It's very pretty,--it 's very nice. I should like it larger, perhaps."
+
+"So would I; but, being my own gardener, I find it quite big enough."
+
+"Why doesn't the Chief give you a gardener?--he's rich enough, surely."
+
+"He never cared for gardening himself. Indeed, I think it is the wild
+confusion of foliage here that he likes. He said to me one day, 'In _my_
+old garden a man loses himself in thought. In this trimly kept place one
+is ever occupied by the melon-frame or the forcing-house.'"
+
+"That's the dreadful thing about old people; they are ever for making
+the whims and crotchets of age the rules of life to others. I wonder you
+bear this so well."
+
+"I didn't know that I bore anything," said she, with a smile.
+
+"That's true slave doctrine, I must say; and when one does not feel
+bondage, there's no more to be said."
+
+"I suspect I have a great deal more freedom than most girls; my time is
+almost all my own, to dispose of as I will. I read, or play, or walk,
+or work, as I feel inclined. If I wish to occupy myself with household
+matters, I am the mistress here."
+
+"In other words, you are free to do everything that is not worth
+doing,--you lead the life of a nun in a convent, only that you have not
+even a sister nun to talk to."
+
+"And which are the things you say are worth doing?"
+
+"Would you not care to go out into the world, to mix in society, to go
+to balls, theatres, f�tes, and such-like? Would you not like to ride? I
+don't mean it for flattery, but would you not, like the admiration you
+would be sure to meet,--the sort of homage people render to beauty,
+the ouly tribute the world ever paid freely,--are all these not worth
+something?"
+
+"I am sure they are: they are worth a great deal to those who can enjoy
+them with a happy heart; but remember, Colonel Se well, I have a father
+living in exile, simply to earn a livelihood, and I have a brother
+toiling for his bread in a strange land: is it likely I could forget
+these, or is it likely that I could carry such cares about with me, and
+enjoy the pleasures you tell of?"
+
+"Oh! as for that, I never met the man, nor woman either, that could
+bring into the world a mind unburdened by care. You must take life as it
+is. If I was to wait for a heart at ease before I went into society, I
+'d have to decline a few dinner-parties. Your only chance of a little
+respite, besides, is at your age. The misfortunes of life begin as a
+little drizzle, but become a regular downpour when one gets to _my_ time
+of life. Let me just tell you what this morning brought forth. A letter
+and then a telegram from my wife, to tell me that my favorite horse--an
+animal worth five hundred pounds if he was worth five shillings--the
+truest, bravest, best horse I ever backed--has just been killed by a
+stupid fellow I got to ride for me. What he did to make the horse refuse
+his leap, what magic he used, what conjuring trick he performed, I can't
+tell. With _me_ it was enough to show him his fence, and if I wanted it
+I could n't have held him back. But this fellow--a dragoon, too, and the
+crack rider of his regiment--contrives to discourage my poor beast, then
+rushes him at the jump at half speed. I know it was a widish brook, and
+they tumbled in, and my horse smashed his blade bone,--of course there
+was nothing for it but to shoot him."
+
+"How sad! I am really sorry for you."
+
+"And all this came of the old Judge's message, the stupidity of sending
+me five words in a telegram, instead of writing a proper note, and
+saying what he wanted. But for that I 'd have stayed at home, ridden my
+horse, won my match, and spared myself the whole disaster."
+
+"Grandpapa is often very hasty in his decisions, but I believe he seldom
+sees cause to revoke them."
+
+"The old theory, 'The King can do no wrong,'" said Sewell, with a saucy
+laugh; "but remember he can often do a deal of mischief incidentally, as
+it were,--as on the present occasion."
+
+"And the rider, what of him? Did he escape unhurt?" said she, eager to
+avoid unpleasant discussion.
+
+"The rider! my dear young lady," said he, with affected slowness,--"the
+rider came to grief. What he did, or how he did it, to throw my poor
+horse down, is his own secret, and, from what I hear, he is likely to
+keep it. No, no, don't look so horrified,--he's not killed, but I don't
+suspect he's a long way off it. He got a smashing fall at a fence I 'd
+have backed myself to ride with my hands tied. Ay, and to have my good
+horse back again, I 'd ride in that fashion to-morrow."
+
+"And the poor fellow, where is he now?"
+
+"The poor fellow is receiving the very sweetest of Mrs. Sewell's
+attentions. He is at my house,--in all likelihood in my room,--not that
+he is very conscious of all the favors bestowed upon him."
+
+"Oh, don't talk with that pretended indifference! You must be, you
+cannot help being, deeply sorry for what has happened."
+
+"There can be very little doubt on that score. I've lost such a horse as
+I never shall own again."
+
+"Pray think of something beside your horse. Who was he? What's his
+name?"
+
+"A stranger,--an Englishman; you never heard of him; and I wish I had
+never heard of him!"
+
+"What are you smiling at?" said she, after a pause, for he stood as
+though reflecting, and a very strange half-smile moved his mouth.
+
+"I was just thinking," said he, gravely, "what his younger brother ought
+to give me; for this fellow was an elder son, and heir to a fine estate
+too."
+
+She turned an indignant glance towards him, and moved away. He was
+quickly after her, however, and, laying his hand on her arm, said
+good-humoredly: "Come, don't be angry with me. I 'm sorry, if you
+like,--I 'm very sorry for this poor fellow. I won't say that my own
+loss does not dash my sorrow with a little anger,--he was such a horse!
+and the whole thing was such a blunder! as fair a brook,--with a high
+bank, it's true,--but as fair a fence as ever & man rode at, and ground
+like this we 're walking over to take off from."
+
+"Is he in danger?"
+
+"I believe so; here's what my wife says. Oh, I haven't got the letter
+about me, but it comes to this, I was to send down one of the best
+doctors by the first train, telling him it was a case of compression
+or concussion, which is it? And so I have despatched Beattie, your
+grandfather's man. I suppose there 's no better?"
+
+"But why have you not gone back yourself? He was a friend, was he not?"
+
+"Yes, he was what people would call a friend. I 'm like the hare in the
+fable, I have many friends; but if I must be confidential, I 'll tell
+you why I did _not_ go. I had a notion, just as likely to be wrong
+as right, that the Chief would take offence at his Registrar being a
+sporting character, and that if I were to absent myself just now, he'd
+find out the reason, whereas by staying here I could keep all quiet, and
+when Beattie came back I could square _him_."
+
+"You could what?"
+
+"A thousand pardons for my bit of slang; but the fact is, just as one
+talks French when he wants to say nothings, one takes to slang when one
+requires to be shifty. I meant to say, I could manage to make the doctor
+hold his tongue."
+
+"Not if grandpapa were to question him."
+
+Sewell smiled, and shook his head in dissent.
+
+"No, no. You're quite mistaken in Dr. Beattie; and what's more, you 're
+quite mistaken in grandpapa too, if you imagine that he 'll think the
+better of you for forgetting the claims of friendship."
+
+"There was none."
+
+"Well, of humanity, then! It was in _your_ cause this man suffered, and
+it is in _your_ house he lies ill. I think you ought to be there also."
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"I 'm sure of it. You know the world a great deal better than I do,
+and you can tell what people will say of your absence; but I think it
+requires no knowledge of more than one's own nature to feel what is
+right and proper here."
+
+"Indeed!" said he, reflectingly.
+
+"Don't you agree with me?"
+
+"Perhaps,--that is, in part. I suppose what you mean about the world is,
+that there will be some scandal afloat, the 'young wife' story, and all
+that sort of balderdash?"
+
+"I really do not understand you."
+
+"You don't?"
+
+"No. Certainly not. What do you mean?"
+
+"Possibly you did not understand me. Well, if I am to go, there 's no
+time to be lost. It's four o'clock already, and the last train leaves at
+five-forty. I will go."
+
+"You are quite right."
+
+"You 'll make my excuses to the Chief. You 'll tell him that my wife's
+message was so alarming that I could not delay my departure. Beattie
+will probably be back tomorrow, and bring you news of us."
+
+"Won't you write a few lines?"
+
+"I 'm not sure,--I 'll not promise. I'm a bad penman, but my wife will
+write, I 've no doubt. Say all sorts of affectionate and dutiful things
+to the Chief for me; tell him I went away in despair at not being able
+to say good-bye; he likes that style of thing, does n't he?"
+
+"I don't think he cares much for 'that style of thing,'" said she, with
+a saucy smile.
+
+"What a capital mimic you are! Do you know I am just beginning to
+suspect that you are, for all your quiet simplicity of manner, a deuced
+deep one. Am I right?"
+
+She shook her head, but made no reply.
+
+"Not that I 'd like you the less for it," said he, eagerly; "on the
+contrary, we 'd understand each other all the better; there's nothing
+like people talking the same language, eh?"
+
+"I hope you'll not lose your train," said she, looking at her watch; "I
+am half-past four."
+
+"A broad hint," said he, laughing; "bye-bye,--_� bient�t_."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. BEATTIE'S RETURN
+
+The old Chief sat alone in his dining-room over his wine. If somewhat
+fatigued by the labors of the day,--for the Court had sat late,--he
+showed little of exhaustion; still less was he, as his years might have
+excused, drowsy or heavy. He sat bolt upright in his chair, and by an
+occasional gesture of his hand, or motion of his head, seemed as though
+he were giving assent to some statement he was listening to, or making
+his comments on it as it proceeded.
+
+The post had brought a letter to Lucy just as dinner was over. It bore
+the post-mark "Cagliari," and was in her brother's hand; and the old
+man, with considerate kindness, told her to go to her room and read it.
+"No, my dear child," said he, as she arose to leave the room; "no! I
+shall not be lonely,--where there is memory there are troops of friends.
+Come back and tell me your news when you have read your letter."
+
+More than an hour passed over, and he sat there heedless of time. A
+whole long life was passing in review before him, not connectedly, or in
+due sequence of events, but in detached scenes and incidents. Now it
+was some stormy night in the old Irish House, when Flood and Grattan
+exchanged their terrific denunciations and insults,--now it was a
+brilliant dinner at Ponsonby's, with all the wits of the day,--now he
+was leading the famous Kitty O'Dwyer, the beauty of the Irish Court, to
+her carriage, amid such a murmur of admiration as made the progress a
+triumph; or, again, it was a raw morning of November, and he was driving
+across the park to be present at Curran's meeting with Egan.
+
+A violent ring of the hall bell startled him, and before he could
+inquire the cause a servant had announced Dr. Beattie.
+
+"I thought I might be fortunate enough to catch you before bed-hour,"
+said the doctor, "and I knew you would like to hear some tidings of my
+mission."
+
+"You have been to--Where have you been?" said the old Judge, embarrassed
+between the late flood of his recollections and the sudden start of his
+arrival.
+
+"To Killaloe, to see that poor fellow who had the severe fall in the
+hurdle-race."
+
+"Ay--to be sure--yes. I remember all now. Give me a moment, however." He
+nodded his head twice or thrice, as if concurring with some statement,
+and then said, "Go on, sir; the Court is with you."
+
+Beattie proceeded to detail the accident and the state of the
+sufferer,--of whom he pronounced favorably,--saying that there was no
+fracture, nor anything worse than severe concussion. "In fact," said he,
+"were it an hospital case, I'd say there was very little danger."
+
+"And do you mean to tell me, sir," said the Judge, who had followed the
+narrative with extreme attention, "that the man of birth and blood must
+succumb in any conflict more readily than the low-born?"
+
+"It's not the individual I was thinking of, so much as his belongings
+here. What I fear for in the present case is what the patient must
+confront every day of his convalescence."
+
+Seeing that the Judge waited for some explanation, Beattie began to
+relate that, as he had started from Dublin the day before, he found
+himself in the same carriage with the young man's mother, who had been
+summoned by telegraph to her son's bedside.
+
+"I have met," said he, "in my time, nearly all sorts and conditions
+of people. Indeed, a doctor's life brings him into contact with more
+maladies of nature and temperament than diseases of material origin;
+but anything like this woman I never saw before. To begin: she combined
+within herself two qualities that seem opposed to each other,--a most
+lavish candor on the score of herself and her family, and an intense
+distrust of all the rest of mankind. She told me she was a baronet's
+wife; how she had married him; where they lived; what his estate was
+worth; how this young fellow had become, by the death of a brother, the
+heir to the property; and how his father, indignant at his extravagance,
+had disentailed the estate, to leave it to a younger son if so disposed.
+She showed at times the very greatest anxiety about her son's state; but
+at other moments just as intense an eagerness to learn what schemes and
+intrigues were being formed against him,--who were the people in whose
+house he then was, what they were, and how he came there. To all my
+assurances that they were persons in every respect her son's equals,
+she answered by a toss of the head or a saucy half-laugh. 'Irish?' asked
+she. 'Yes, Irish.' 'I thought so,' rejoined she; 'I told Sir Hugh I
+was sure of it, though he said there were English Sewells.' From this
+instant her distrust broke forth. All Ireland had been in a conspiracy
+against her family for years. She had a brother, she said it with a
+shiver of horror, who was cruelly beaten by an attorney in Cork for a
+little passing pleasantry to the man's sister; he had kissed her, or
+something of the kind, in a railroad carriage; and her cousin,--poor
+dear Cornwall is Merivale,--it was in Ireland he found that creature
+that got the divorce against him two years since. She went on to say
+that there had been a plot against her son, in the very neighborhood
+where he now lay ill, only a year ago,--some intrigue to involve him in
+a marriage, the whole details of which she threatened me with the first
+time we should be alone.
+
+"Though at some moments expressing herself in terms of real affection
+and anxiety about her poor son, she would suddenly break off to
+speculate on what might happen from his death. 'You know, doctor, there
+is only one more boy, and if his life lapsed, Holt and the Holt estate
+goes to the Carringtons.'"
+
+"An odious woman, sir,--a most odious woman; I only wonder why you
+continued to travel in the same carriage with her."
+
+"My profession teaches great tolerance," said the doctor, mildly.
+
+"Don't call tolerance, sir, what there is a better word
+for,--subserviency. I am amazed how you endured this woman."
+
+"Remember--it is to'be remembered--that in my version of her I have
+condensed the conversation of some hours, and given you, as it were, the
+substance of much talking; and also that I have not attempted to convey
+what certainly was a very perfect manner. She had no small share of
+good looks, a very sweet voice, and considerable attraction in point of
+breeding."
+
+"I will accept none of these as alleviations, sir; her blandishments
+cannot blind the Court."
+
+"I will not deny their influence upon myself," said Beattie, gently.
+
+"I can understand you, sir," said the Judge, pompously. "The habits of
+your profession teach you to swallow so much that is nauseous in a sweet
+vehicle, that you carry the same custom into morals."
+
+Beattie laughed so heartily at the analogy that the old man's good-humor
+returned to him, and he bade him continue his narrative.
+
+"I have not much more to tell. We reached the house by about eleven
+o'clock at night, and my fellow-traveller sat in the carriage till I
+announced her to Mrs. Sewell. My own cares called me to the sick-room,
+and I saw no more of the ladies till this morning, just before I came
+away."
+
+"She is, then, domesticated there? She has taken up her quarters at the
+Sewells' house?"
+
+"Yes. I found her maid, too, had taken possession of Colonel Sewell's
+dressing-room, and dispossessed a number of his chattels to make room
+for her own."
+
+"It is a happy thing, a very happy thing for me, that I have not been
+tried by these ordeals," said the Judge, with a long-drawn breath. "I
+wonder how Colonel Sewell will endure it."
+
+"I have no means of knowing; he arrived late at night, and was still in
+bed and asleep when I left."
+
+"You have not told me these people's name?"
+
+"Trafford,--Sir Hugh Beecham Trafford, of Holt-Trafford, Staffordshire."
+
+"I have met the man, or rather his father, for it was nigh fifty years
+ago,--an old family, and of Saxon origin; and his wife,--who was she?"
+
+"Her name was Merivale. Her father, I think, was Governor of Madras."
+
+"If so, sir, she has hereditary claims for impertinence and presumption.
+Sir Ulysses Merivale enjoyed the proud distinction of being the most
+insolent man in England. It is well that you have told me who she was,
+Beattie, for I might have made a very fatal blunder. I was going to
+write to Sewell to say, 'As this is a great issue, I would advise you
+to bring down your mother, "special,"' but I recall my intention. Lady
+Lendrick would have no chance against Lady Trafford. Irish insolence has
+not the finish of the English article, and we put an alloy of feeling in
+it that destroys it altogether. Will the young man recover?"
+
+"He is going on favorably, and I see nothing to apprehend, except,
+indeed, that the indiscretions of his mother may prejudice his case. She
+is very likely to insist on removing him; she hinted it to me as I took
+my leave."
+
+"I will write to the Sewells to come up here at once. They shall
+evacuate the territory, and leave her in possession. As persons closely
+connected with my family, they must not have this outrage put upon
+them." He rang the bell violently, and desired the servant to request
+Miss Lendrick to come to him.
+
+"She is not very well, my Lord, and has gone to her room. She told Mrs.
+Beales to serve your Lordship's tea when you were ready for it."
+
+"What is this? What does all this mean?" said the old Judge, eagerly;
+for the idea of any one presuming to be ill without duly apprising
+him--without the preliminary step of ascertaining that it could not
+inconvenience him--was more than he was fully prepared for.
+
+"Tell Mrs. Beales I want her," said he, as he rose and left the room.
+Muttering angrily as he went, he ascended the stairs and traversed the
+long corridor which led to Lucy's room; but before he had reached the
+door the housekeeper was at his side.
+
+"Miss Lucy said she 'd like to see your Lordship, if it was n't too much
+trouble, my Lord."
+
+"I am going to see her. Ask her if I may come in."
+
+"Yes, my Lord," said Mrs. Beales from the open door. "She is awake."
+
+"My own dear grandpapa," said Lucy, stretching out her arms to him from
+her bed, "how good and kind of you to come here!"
+
+"My dear, dear child," said he, fondly; "tell me you are not ill; tell
+me that it is a mere passing indisposition."
+
+"Not even so much, grandpapa. It is simply a headache. I was crying, and
+I was ashamed that you should see it; and I walked out into the air; and
+I came back again, trying to look at ease; and my head began to throb
+and to pain me so that I thought it best to go to bed. It was a letter I
+got,--a letter from Cagliari. Poor Tom has had the terrible fever of
+the island. He said nothing about it at first, but now he has relapsed.
+There are only three lines in his own hand,--the rest is from his
+friend. You shall see what he says. It is very short, and not very hard
+to read."
+
+The old man put on his spectacles and read:--
+
+"'My very dear Lucy.'
+
+"Who presumes to address you in this way? 'Brook Fossbrooke?' What! is
+this the man who is called Sir Brook Fossbrooke? By what means have you
+become so intimate with a person of his character?"
+
+"I know nothing better, nothing more truly noble and generous, than his
+character," said she, holding her temples as she spoke, for the pain of'
+her head was almost agony. "Do read on,--read on, dearest grandpapa."
+
+He turned again to the letter, and read it over in silence till he came
+to the few words in Tom's hand, which he read aloud: "Darling Lu--I
+shall be all right in a week. Don't fret, but write me a long--long"--he
+had forgotten the word "letter,"--"and love me always."
+
+She burst into tears, as the old man read the words, for by some strange
+magic, the syllables of deep affection, uttered by one unmoved, smite
+the heart with a pang that is actual torture.
+
+"I will take this letter down to Beattie, Lucy, and hear what he says of
+it," said the old man, and left the room.
+
+"Read this, Beattie, and tell me what you say to it," said the Chief
+Baron, as he handed the doctor Sir Brook's letter; "I'll tell you of the
+writer when you have read it."
+
+Beattie read the note in silence, and as he laid it on the table said,
+"I know the man, and his strange old-fashioned writing would have
+recalled him without his name."
+
+"And what do you know of him, sir?" asked the Judge, sternly.
+
+"I can tell you the story in three words: He came to consult me one
+morning, about six or eight months ago. It was about an insurance on his
+life,--a very small sum he wanted to raise, to go out to this very place
+he writes from. He got to talk about the project, and I don't exactly
+know how it came about,--I forget the details now,--but it ended by my
+lending him the money myself."
+
+"What, sir! do you combine usury with physic?"
+
+"On that occasion I appear to have done so," said Beattie, laughing.
+
+"And you advanced a sum of money to a man whom you saw for the first
+time, simply on his showing that his life was too insecure to guarantee
+repayment?"
+
+"That puts the matter a little too nakedly."
+
+"It puts it truthfully, sir, I apprehend."
+
+"If you mean that the man impressed me so favorably that I was disposed
+to do him a small service, you are right."
+
+"You and I, Beattie, are too old for this impulsive generosity,--too old
+by thirty years! After forty philanthropy should take a chronic form,
+and never have paroxysms. I think I am correct in my medical language."
+
+"Your medicine pleases me more than your morality," said Beattie,
+laughing; "but to come back to this Sir Brook, I wish you had seen him."
+
+"Sir, I have seen him, and I have heard of him, and if not at liberty
+to say what I have heard of him, it is quite enough to state that _my_
+information cannot corroborate _your_ opinion."
+
+"Well, my Lord, the possibility of what I might hear will not shake the
+stability of what I have seen. Remember that we doctors imagine we read
+human nature by stronger spectacles than the laity generally."
+
+"You imagine it, I am aware, sir; but I have met with no such instances
+of acuteness amongst your co-professionals as would sustain the claim;
+but why are we wandering from the record? I gave you that letter to read
+that you might tell me, is this boy's case a dangerous one?"
+
+"It is a very grave case, no doubt; this is the malaria fever of
+Sardinia,--bad enough with the natives, but worse with strangers. He
+should be removed to better air at once if he could bear removal."
+
+"So is it ever with your art," said the Judge, in a loud declamatory
+voice. "You know nothing in your difficulties but a piteous entreaty to
+the unknown resources of nature to assist you. No, sir; I will not
+hear your defence; there is no issue before the Court. What sort of
+practitioners have they in this island?"
+
+"Rude enough, I can believe."
+
+"Could a man of eminence be found to go out there and see him?"
+
+"A man in large practice could not spare the time; but there are men of
+ability who are not yet in high repute: one of these might be possibly
+induced."
+
+"And what might the expense be?"
+
+"A couple of hundred--say three hundred pounds, would perhaps suffice."
+
+"Go upstairs and see my granddaughter. She is very nervous and feverish;
+calm her mind so far as you are able; say that we are concerting
+measures for her brother's benefit; and by the time you shall come down
+again I will have made up my mind what to do."
+
+Beattie was a valued friend of Lucy's, and she was glad to see him enter
+her room, but she would not suffer him to speak of herself; it was
+of poor Tom alone she would talk. She heard with delight the generous
+intentions of her grandfather, and exclaimed with rapture,--"This is his
+real nature, and yet it is only by the little foibles of his temper that
+the world knows him; but we, doctor,--we, who see him as he is, know how
+noble-hearted and affectionate he can be!"
+
+"I must hasten back to him," said Beattie, after a short space; "for
+should he decide on sending out a doctor, I must lose no time, as I must
+return to see this young fellow at Killaloe to-morrow."
+
+"Oh, in my greater anxieties I forgot him! How is he,--can he recover?"
+
+"Yes, I regard him as out of danger,--that is, if Lady Trafford can be
+persuaded not to talk him into a relapse."
+
+"Lady Trafford! who is she?"
+
+"His mother; she arrived last night."
+
+"And his name is Trafford, and his Christian name Lionel?"
+
+"Lionel Wentworth Trafford. I took it from his dressing-case when I
+prescribed for him."
+
+Lucy had been leaning on her arm as she spoke, but she now sank slowly
+backward and fainted.
+
+It was a long time before consciousness came back, and even then she
+lay voiceless and motionless, and, though she heard what Beattie said
+to her, unable to speak to him, or intimate by a gesture that she heard
+him.
+
+The doctor needed no confidences,--he read the whole story. There are
+expressions in the human face which have no reference to physical ills;
+nor are there any indications of bodily suffering. He who asked, "Canst
+thou minister to a mind diseased?" knew how hopeless was his question;
+and this very despair it is--this sense of an affliction beyond the
+reach of art--gives a character to the expression which the doctor's eye
+never fails to discriminate from the look worn by mere malady.
+
+As she lay there motionless, her large eyes looking at him with that
+expression in which eagerness struggles against debility, he saw how he
+had become her confidant.
+
+"Come, my dear child," said he, taking her hand between both his own,
+"you have no occasion for fears on this score,--so far I assure you on
+my honor."
+
+She gave his hand a slight, a very slight pressure, and tried to say
+something, but could not. "I will go down now, and see what is to be
+done about your brother." She nodded, and he continued: "I will pay you
+another visit to-morrow early, before I leave town, and let me find
+you strong and hearty; and remember that though I force no confidences,
+Lucy, I will not refuse them if you offer."
+
+"I have none, sir,--none," said she, in a voice of deep melancholy.
+
+"So that I know all that is to be known?" asked he.
+
+"All, sir," said she, with a trembling lip.
+
+"Well, accept me as a friend whom you may trust, my dear Lucy. If you
+want me, I will not fail you; and if you have no need of me, there is
+nothing that has passed to-day between us ever to be remembered,--you
+understand me?"
+
+"I do, sir. You will come to-morrow, won't you?"
+
+He nodded assent, and left her.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. AN EXIT
+
+Colonel Sewell stood at the window of a small drawing-room he
+called "his own," watching the details of loading a very cumbrous
+travelling-carriage which was drawn up before the door. Though the
+postilions were in the saddle, and all ready for a start, the process of
+putting up the luggage went on but slowly,--now a heavy imperial
+would be carried out, and after a while taken in again; dressing-boxes
+carefully stowed away would be disinterred to be searched for some
+missing article; bags, baskets, and boxes of every shape and sort came
+and went and came again; and although the two footmen who assisted these
+operations showed in various ways what length of training had taught
+them to submit to in the way of worry and caprice, the smart "maid," who
+now and then appeared to give some order, displayed most unmistakable
+signs of ill-humor on her face. "Drat those dogs! I wish they were down
+the river!" cried she, of two yelping, barking Maltese terriers, which,
+with small bells jingling on their collars, made an uproar that was
+perfectly deafening.
+
+"Well, Miss Morris, if it would oblige _you_--" said one of the tall
+footmen, as he caressed his whisker, and gave a very languishing
+look, more than enough, he thought, to supply the words wanting to his
+sentence.
+
+"It would oblige _me_ very much, Mr. George, to get away out of this
+horrid place. I never did--no, never--in all my life pass such a ten
+days."
+
+"We ain't a-going just yet, after all," said footman number two, with a
+faint yawn.
+
+"It's so like you, Mr. Breggis, to say something disagreeable," said
+she, with a toss of her head.
+
+"It's because it's true I say it, not because it's onpleasant, Miss
+Caroline."
+
+"I'm not Miss Caroline, at least from you, Mr. Breggis."
+
+"Ain't she haughty,--ain't she fierce?" But his colleague would not
+assent to this judgment, and looked at her with a longing admiration.
+
+"There's her bell again," cried the girl; "as sure as I live, she's rung
+forty times this morning;" and she hurried back to the house.
+
+"Why do you think we're not off yet?" asked George.
+
+"It's the way I heerd her talking that shows me," replied the other.
+"Whenever she 's really about to leave a place she goes into them fits
+of laughing and crying and screaming one minute, and a-whimpering the
+next; and then she tells the people--as it were, unknownst to her--how
+she hated them all,--how stingy they was,--the shameful way they starved
+the servants, and such-like. There's some as won't let her into their
+houses by reason of them fits, for she'll plump out everything she knows
+of a family,--who ran away with the Misses, and why the second daughter
+went over to France."
+
+"You know her better than me, Breggis."
+
+"I do think I does; it's eight years I 've had of it. Eh, what's
+that,--was n't that a screech?" and as he spoke a wild shrill scream
+resounded through the house, followed by a rapid succession of notes
+that might either have been laughter or crying.
+
+Sewell drew the curtain; and wheeling an arm-chair to the fireside, lit
+his cigar, and began to smoke.
+
+The house was so small that the noises could be heard easily in every
+part of it; and for a time the rapid passage of persons overhead, and
+the voices of many speaking together, could be detected, and, above
+these, a wild shriek would now and then rise above all, and ring through
+the house. Sewell smoked on undisturbed; it was not easy to say that he
+so much as heard these sounds. His indolent attitude, and his seeming
+enjoyment of his cigar, indicated perfect composure; nor even when the
+door opened, and his wife entered the room, did he turn his head to see
+who it was.
+
+"Can William have the pony to go into town?" asked she, in a
+half-submissive voice.
+
+"For what?"
+
+"To tell Dr. Tobin to come out; Lady Trafford is taken ill."
+
+"He can go on foot; I may want the pony."
+
+"She is alarmingly ill, I fear,--very violent spasms; and I don't think
+there is any time to be lost."
+
+"Nobody that makes such a row as that can be in any real danger."
+
+"She is in great pain, at all events."
+
+"Send one of her own people,--despatch one of the postboys,--do what you
+like, only don't bore _me_."
+
+She was turning to leave the room, when he called out, "I say, when the
+attack came on did she take the opportunity to tell you any pleasant
+little facts about yourself or your family?" She smiled faintly, and
+moved towards the door. "Can't you tell me, ma'am? Has this woman been
+condoling with you over your hard fate and your bad husband? or has she
+discovered how that 'dear boy' upstairs broke his head as well as his
+heart in your service?"
+
+"She did ask me certainly if there was n't a great friendship between
+you and her son," said she, with a tone of quiet disdain.
+
+"And what did you reply?" said he, throwing one leg over the arm of the
+chair as he swung round to face her.
+
+"I don't well remember. I may have said _you_ liked _him_, or that _he_
+liked _you_. It was such a commonplace reply I made, I forget it."
+
+"And was that all that passed on the subject?"
+
+"I think I'd better send for the doctor," said she, and left the room
+before he could stop her, though that such was his intention was evident
+from the way he arose from his chair with a sudden spring.
+
+"You shall hear more of this, Madam,--by Heaven, you shall!" muttered
+he, as he paced the room with rapid steps. "Who's that? Come in," cried
+he, as a knock came to the door. "Oh, Balfour! is it you?"
+
+"Yes; what the deuce is going on upstairs? Lady Trafford appears to have
+gone mad."
+
+"Indeed! how unpleasant!"
+
+"Very unpleasant for your wife, I take it. She has been saying all sorts
+of unmannerly things to her this last hour,--things that, if she were
+n't out of her reason, she ought to be thrown out of the window for."
+
+"And why didn't you do so?"
+
+"It was a liberty I couldn't think of taking in another man's house."
+
+"Lord love you, I'd have thought nothing of it! I'm the best-natured
+fellow breathing. What was it she said?"
+
+"I don't know how I can repeat them."
+
+"Oh, I see, they reflect on me. My dear young friend, when you live to
+my age you will learn that anything can be said to anybody, provided it
+only be done by 'the third party.' Whatever the law rejects as evidence,
+assumes in social life the value of friendly admonition. Go on, and tell
+me who it is is in love with my wife."
+
+Cool as Mr. Cholmondely Balfour was, the tone of this demand staggered
+him.
+
+"Art thou the man, Balfour?" said Sewell at last, staring at him with a
+mock frown.
+
+"No, by Jove! I never presumed that far."
+
+"It's the sick fellow, then, is the culprit?"
+
+"So his mother opines. She is an awful woman! I was sitting with your
+wife in the small drawing-room when she burst into the room and cried
+out, 'Mrs. Sewell, is your name Lucy? for, if so, my son has been
+rambling on about you this last hour in a wonderful way: he has told me
+about fifty times that he wants to see you before he dies; and now that
+the doctor says he is out of danger he never ceases talking of dying.
+I suppose you have no objection to the interview; at least they tell me
+you were constantly in his room before my arrival."
+
+"How did my wife take this?--what did she say?" asked Sewell, with an
+easy smile as he spoke.
+
+"She said something about agitation or anxiety serving to excuse conduct
+which otherwise would be unpardonable; and she asked me to send her maid
+to her,--as I think, to get me away."
+
+"Of course you rang the bell and sat down again."
+
+"No; she gave me a look that said, I don't want you here, and I went;
+but the storm broke out again as I closed the door, and I heard Lady
+Trafford's voice raised to a scream as I came downstairs."
+
+"It all shows what I have said over and over again," said Sewell,
+slowly, "that whenever a man has a grudge or a grievance against a
+woman, he ought always to get another woman to torture her. I 'll lay
+you fifty pounds Lady Traf-ford cut deeper into my wife's flesh by
+her two or three impertinences than if I had stormed myself into an
+apoplexy."
+
+"And don't you mean to turn her out of the house?"
+
+"Turn whom out?"
+
+"Lady Trafford, of course."
+
+"It's not so easily done, I suspect. I'll take to the long-boat myself
+one of these days, and leave her in command of the ship."
+
+"I tell you she's a dangerous, a very dangerous woman; she has
+been ransacking her son's desk, and has come upon all sorts of ugly
+memoranda,--sums lost at play, and reminders to meet bills, and
+such-like."
+
+"Yes; he was very unlucky of late," said Sewell, coldly.
+
+"And there was something like a will, too; at least there was a packet
+of trinkets tied up in a paper, which purported to be a will, but only
+bore the name Lucy."
+
+"How delicate! there's something touching in that, Balfour; isn't
+there?" said Sewell, with a grin. "How wonderfully you seem to have got
+up the case! You know the whole story. How did you manage it?"
+
+"My fellow Paxley had it from Lady Trafford's maid. She told him that
+her mistress was determined to show all her son's papers to the Chief
+Baron, and blow you sky high."
+
+"That's awkward, certainly," said Sewell, in deep thought. "It would be
+a devil of a conflagration if two such combustibles came together. I 'd
+rather she 'd fight it out with my mother."
+
+"Have you sent in your papers to the Horse Guards?"
+
+"Yes; it's all finished. I am gazetted out, or I shall be on Tuesday."
+
+"I'm sorry for it. Not that it signifies much as to this registrarship.
+We never intended to relinquish our right to it, we mean to throw the
+case into Chancery, and we have one issue already to submit to trial at
+bar."
+
+"Who are _we_ that are going to do all this?"
+
+"The Crown," said Balfour, haughtily.
+
+"_Ego et rex meus_; that's the style, is it? Come now, Balfy, if you 're
+for a bet, I 'll back my horse, the Chief Baron, against the field. Give
+me sporting odds, for he 's aged, and must run in bandages besides."
+
+"That woman's coming here at this moment was most unlucky."
+
+"Of course it was; it would n't be _my_ lot if it were anything else.
+I say," cried he, starting up, and approaching the window, "what's up
+now?"
+
+"She's going at last, I really believe."
+
+The sound of many and heavy footsteps was now heard descending the
+stairs slowly, and immediately after two men issued from the door,
+carrying young Trafford on a chair; his arms hung listlessly at his
+side, and his head was supported by his servant.
+
+"I wonder whose doing is this? Has the doctor given his concurrence to
+it? How are they to get him into the coach, and what are they to do with
+him when he is there?" Such was the running commentary Balfour kept
+up all the time they were engaged in depositing the sick man in the
+carriage. Again a long pause of inaction ensued, and at last a tap came
+to the door of the room, and a servant inquired for Mr. Balfour.
+
+"There!" cried Sewell, "it's _your_ turn now. I only hope she 'll insist
+on your accompanying her to town."
+
+Balfour hurried out, and was seen soon afterwards escorting Lady
+Trafford to the carriage. Whether it was that she was not yet decided
+as to her departure, or that she had so many injunctions to give before
+going, the eventful moment was long delayed. She twice tried the seat in
+the carriage, once with cushions and then without. She next made Balfour
+try whether it might not be possible to have a sort of inclined plane to
+lie upon. At length she seemed overcome with her exertions, sent for
+a chair, and had a glass of water given her, to which her maid added
+certain drops from a phial.
+
+"You will tell Colonel Sewell all I have said, Mr. Balfour," said she,
+aloud, as she prepared to enter the carriage. "It would have been more
+agreeable to me had he given me the opportunity of saying it to himself,
+but his peculiar notions on the duties of a host have prevented this. As
+to Mrs. Sewell, I hope and believe I have sufficiently explained myself.
+She at least knows my sentiments as to what goes on in this house. Of
+course, sir, it is very agreeable to _you_. Men of pleasure are not
+persons to be overburdened with scruples,--least of all such scruples as
+interfere with self-indulgence. This sort of life is therefore charming;
+I leave you to all its delights, sir, and do not even warn you against
+its dangers. I will not promise the same discretion, however, when I go
+hence. I owe it to all mothers who have sons, Mr. Balfour,--I owe it to
+every family in which there is a name to be transmitted, and a fortune
+to be handed down, to declare what I have witnessed under this roof. No,
+Lionel,--no, my dear boy; nothing shall prevent my speaking out." This
+was addressed to her son, who by a deep sigh seemed to protest against
+the sentiments he was not able to oppose. "It may suit Mr. Balfour's
+habits, or his tastes, to remain here,--with these I have nothing to do.
+The Duke of Bayswater might possibly think his heir could keep better
+company,--with that I have no concern; though when the matter comes to
+be discussed before me,--as it one day will, I have no doubt,--I shall
+hold myself free to state my opinion. Good-bye, sir; you will, perhaps,
+do me the favor to call at the Bilton; I shall remain till Saturday
+there; I have resolved not to leave Ireland till I see the Viceroy; and
+also have a meeting with this Judge, I forget his name, Lam--Lena--what
+is it? He is the Chief something, and easily found."
+
+A few very energetic words, uttered so low as to be inaudible to all but
+Balfour himself, closed this address.
+
+"On my word of honor,--on my sacred word of honor,--Mr. Balfour," said
+she, aloud as she placed one foot on the step, "Caroline saw it,--saw
+it with her own eyes. Don't forget all I have said; don't drop that
+envelope; be sure you come to see me." And she was gone.
+
+"Give me five minutes to recover myself," said Balfour, as he entered Se
+well's room, and threw himself on a sofa; "such a 'breather' as that I
+have not had for many a day."
+
+"I heard a good deal of it," said Sewell, coolly. "She screams,
+particularly when she means to be confidential; and all that about my
+wife must have reached the gardener in the shrubbery. Where is she off
+to?"
+
+"To Dublin. She means to see his Excellency and the Chief Baron; she
+says she can't leave Ireland till she has unmasked all your wickedness."
+
+"She had better take a house on a lease then; did you tell her so?"
+
+"I did nothing but listen,--I never interposed a word. Indeed, she won't
+let one speak."
+
+"I 'd give ten pounds to see her with the Chief Baron. It would be such
+a 'close thing.' All his neat sparring would go for nothing against her;
+for though she hits wide, she can stand a deal of punishment without
+feeling it."
+
+"She 'll do you mischief there."
+
+"She might," said he, more thoughtfully. "I think I 'll set my mother at
+her; not that she 'll have a chance, but just for the fun of the thing.
+What 's the letter in your hand?"
+
+"Oh, a commission she gave me. I was to distribute this amongst your
+household;" and he drew forth a banknote. "Twenty pounds! you have no
+objection to it, have you?"
+
+"I know nothing about it; of course you never hinted such a thing to
+me;" and with this he arose and left the room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A STORMY MOMENT
+
+Within a week after the first letter came a second from Cagliari. It was
+but half a dozen lines from Tom himself.
+
+"They are sending me off to a place called Maddalena, dearest Lucy, for
+change of air The priest has given me his house, and I am to be Robinson
+Crusoe there, with an old hag for Friday,--how I wish for you! Sir Brook
+can only come over to me occasionally. Look out for three rocks--they
+call them islands--off the N. E. of Sardinia; one of them is mine.--Ever
+your own,
+
+"Tom L."
+
+Lucy hastened down with this letter in her hand to her grandfather's
+room, but met Mr. Haire on the stairs, who whispered in her ear, "Don't
+go in just yet, my dear; he is out of sorts this morning; Lady Lendrick
+has been here, and a number of unpleasant letters have arrived, and it
+is better not to disturb him further."
+
+"Will you take this note," said she, "and give it to him at any fitting
+moment? I want to know what I shall reply,--I mean, I 'd like to hear if
+grandpapa has any kind message to send the poor fellow."
+
+"Leave it with me. I 'll take charge of it, and come up to tell you when
+you can see the Judge." Thus saying, he passed on, and entered the room
+where the Chief Baron was sitting. The curtains were closely drawn, and
+in one of the windows the shutters were closed,--so sensitive to light
+was the old man in his periods of excitement. He lay back in a deep
+chair, his eyes closed, his face slightly flushed, breathing heavily,
+and the fingers of one hand twitching slightly at moments; the other was
+held by Beattie, as he counted the pulse. "Dip that handkerchief in the
+cold lotion, and lay it over his forehead," whispered Beattie to Haire.
+
+"Speak out, sir; that muttering jars on my nerves, and irritates me,"
+said the Judge, in a slow firm tone.
+
+"Come," said Beattie, cheerfully, "you are better now; the weakness has
+passed off."
+
+"There is no weakness in the case, sir," said the old man, sitting bolt
+upright in the chair, as he grasped and supported himself by the arms.
+"It is the ignoble feature of your art to be materialist. You can see
+nothing in humanity but a nervous cord and a circulation."
+
+"The doctor's ministry goes no further," said Beattie, gently.
+
+"Your art is then but left-handed, sir. Where 's Haire?"
+
+"Here, at your side," replied Haire.
+
+"I must finish my story, Haire. Where was it that I left off? Yes; to
+be sure,--I remember now. This boy of Sewell's--Reginald Victor
+Sewell--was, with my permission, to take the name of Lendrick, and be
+called Reginald Victor Sewell Lendrick."
+
+"And become the head of your house?"
+
+"The head of my house, and my heir. She did not say so, but she could
+not mean anything short of it."
+
+"What has your son done to deserve this?" asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+"My son's rights, sir, extend but to the modest fortune I inherited from
+my father. Whatever other property I possess has been acquired by my own
+ability and labor, and is mine to dispose of."
+
+"I suppose there are other rights as well as those of the statute-book?"
+
+"Listen to this, Beattie," cried the old Judge, with a sparkle of the
+eye,--"listen to this dialectician, who discourses to me on the import
+of a word. It is not generous I must say, to come down with all the
+vigor of his bright, unburdened faculties upon a poor, weak, and
+suffering object like myself. You might have waited, Haire, till I had
+at least the semblance of power to resist you."
+
+"What answer did you give her?" asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+"I said,--what it is always safe to say,--'_Le roi s'avisera_.' Eh,
+Beattie? this is the grand principle of your own craft. Medicine is very
+little else than 'the wisdom of waiting.' I told her," continued he, "I
+would think of it,--that I would see the child. 'He is here,' said she,
+rising and leaving the room, and in a few moments returned, leading a
+little boy by the hand,--a very noble-looking child, I will say, with
+a lofty head and a bold brow. He met me as might a prince, and gave
+his hand as though it were an honor he bestowed. What a conscious
+power there is in youth! Ay, sirs, that is the real source of all the
+much-boasted vigor and high-heartedness. Beattie will tell us some story
+of arterial action or nervous expansion; but the mystery lies deeper.
+The conscious force of a future development imparts a vigor that all the
+triumphs of after life pale before."
+
+"'_Fiat justitia, ru�t coelum_,'" said Haire,--"I'd not provide for
+people out of my own family."
+
+"It is a very neat though literal translation, sir, and, like all that
+comes from you, pointed and forcible."
+
+"I'd rather be fair and honest than either," said Haire, bluntly.
+
+"I appeal to you, Beattie, and I ask if I have deserved this;" and the
+old Judge spoke with an air of such apparent sincerity as actually to
+impose upon the doctor. "The sarcasms of this man push my regard for him
+to the last intrenchment."
+
+"Haire never meant it; he never intended to reflect upon you," said
+Beattie, in a low tone.
+
+"He knows well enough that I did not," said Haire, half sulky; for he
+thought the Chief was pushing his raillery too far.
+
+"I 'm satisfied," said the Judge, with a sigh. "I suppose he can't help
+it. There are fencers who never believe they have touched you till they
+see the blood. Be it so; and now to go back. She went away and left the
+child with me, promising to take him up after paying a visit she had to
+make in the neighborhood. I was not sorry to have the little fellow's
+company. He was most agreeable, and, unlike Haire, he never made me his
+butt. Well, I have done; I will say no more on that head. I was actually
+sorry when she came to fetch him, and I believe I said so. What does
+that grunt mean, Haire?"
+
+"I did not speak."
+
+"No, sir; but you uttered what implied an ironical assent,--a _nisi
+prius_ trick,--like the leer I have seen you bestow upon the jury-box.
+How hard it is for the cunning man to divest himself of the subtlety of
+his calling!"
+
+"I want to hear how it all ended," muttered Haire.
+
+"You shall hear, sir, if you will vouchsafe me a little patience. When
+men are in the full vigor of their faculties, they should be tolerant
+to those footsore and weary travellers who, like myself, halt behind and
+delay the march. But bear in mind, Haire, I was not always thus. There
+was a time when I walked in the van. Ay, sir, and bore myself bravely
+too. I was talking with that child when they announced Mr. Balfour, the
+private secretary, a man most distasteful to me; but I told them to show
+him in, curious, indeed, to hear what new form of compromise they were
+about to propose to me. He had come with a secret and confidential
+message from the Viceroy, and really seemed distressed at having to
+speak before a child of six years old, so mysterious and reserved was
+he. He made a very long story of it,--full an hour; but the substance
+was this: The Crown had been advised to dispute my right of appointment
+to the registrarship, and to make a case for a jury; but--mark the
+'but'--in consideration for my high name and great services, and in
+deference to what I might be supposed to feel from an open collision
+with the Government, they were still willing for an accommodation, and
+would consent to ratify any appointment I should make, other than that
+of the gentleman I had already named,--Colonel Sewell.
+
+"Self-control is not exactly the quality for which my friends give me
+most credit. Haire, there, will tell you I am a man of ungovernable
+temper, and who never even tried to curb his passion; but I would
+hope there is some injustice in this award. I became a perfect dove
+in gentleness, as I asked Balfour for the reasons which compelled his
+Excellency to make my stepson's exclusion from office a condition. 'I am
+not at liberty to state them,' was the cool reply. 'They are personal,
+and, of course, delicate?' asked I, in a tone of submission, and he gave
+a half assent in silence. I concurred,--that is, I yielded the point. I
+went even further. I hinted, vaguely of course, at the courteous
+reserve by which his Excellency was willing to spare me such pain as an
+unpleasant disclosure--if there were such--might occasion me. I added,
+that old men are not good subjects for shocks; and I will say, sirs,
+that he looked at me as I spoke with a compassionate pity which won all
+my gratitude! Ay, Beattie, and though my veins swelled at the temples,
+and I felt a strange rushing sound in my ears, I had no fit, and in a
+moment or two was as calm as I am this instant.
+
+"'Let me be clear upon this point,' said I to him. 'I am to nominate to
+the office any one except Sewell, and you will confirm such nomination?'
+'Precisely,' replied he. 'Such act on my part in no way to prejudice
+whatever claim I lay to the appointment in perpetuity, or jeopardize
+any rights I now assert?' 'Certainly not,' said he. 'Write it,' said I,
+pushing towards him a pen and paper; and so overjoyed was he with his
+victorious negotiation that he wrote word for word as I dictated. When
+I came to the name Sewell, I added, 'To whose nomination his Excellency
+demurs, on grounds of character and conduct sufficient in his
+Excellency's estimation to warrant such exclusion; but which, out of
+deference to the Chief Baron's feelings, are not set forth in this
+negotiation.' 'Is this necessary?' asked he, as he finished writing. 'It
+is,' was my reply; 'put your name at foot, and the date;' and he did so.
+
+"I now read over the whole aloud; he winced at the concluding lines, and
+said, 'I had rather, with your permission, erase these last words; for
+though I know the whole story, and believe it too, there 's no occasion
+for entering upon it here.'
+
+"As he spoke, I folded the paper and placed it in my pocket. 'Now, sir,'
+said I, 'let _me_ hear the story you speak of.' 'I cannot. I told you
+before I was not at liberty to repeat it.' I insisted, and he refused.
+There was a positive altercation between us and he raised his voice in
+anger, and demanded back from me the paper which he said I had tricked
+him into writing. I will not say that he meant to use force, but he
+sprang from his chair and came towards me with such an air of menace
+that the boy, who was playing in the corner, rushed at him and struck
+him with his drumstick, saying, 'You sha'n't beat grandpapa!' I believe
+I rang the bell; yes, I rang the bell sharply. The child was crying when
+they came. I was confused and flurried. Balfour was gone."
+
+"And the paper?" asked Haire.
+
+"The paper is here, sir," said he, touching his breastpocket. "The
+country shall ring with it, or such submission shall I exact as will
+bring that Viceroy and his minions to my feet in abject contrition. Were
+you to ask me now, I know not what terms I would accept of."
+
+"I would rather you said no more at present," said Beattie. "You need
+rest and quietness."
+
+"I need reparation and satisfaction, sir; that is what I need."
+
+"Of course--of course; but you must be strong and well to enforce it,"
+said Beattie.
+
+"I told Lady Lendrick to leave the child with me. She said she would
+bring him back to-morrow. I like the boy. What does my pulse say,
+Beattie?"
+
+"It says that all this talking and agitation are injurious to you,--that
+you must be left alone."
+
+The old man sighed faintly, but did not speak.
+
+"Haire and I will take a turn in the garden, and be within call if you
+want us," said Beattie.
+
+"Wait a moment,--what was it I had to say? You are too abrupt, Beattie;
+you snap the cords of thought by such rough handling, and we old men
+lose our dexterous knack of catching the loose ends, as we once did.
+There, there--leave me now; the skein is all tangled in hopeless
+confusion." He waved his hand in farewell, and they left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LADY'S LETTER
+
+"Lucy asked me to show him this note from her brother," said Haire, as
+he strolled with Beattie down the lawn. "It was no time to do so. Look
+over it and say what you advise."
+
+"The boy wants a nurse, not a doctor," said Beattie. "A little care and
+generous diet would soon bring him round; but they are a strange race,
+these Lendricks. They have all the stern qualities that brave danger,
+and they are terribly sensitive to some small wound to their self-love.
+Let that young fellow, for instance, only begin to feel that he is
+forgotten or an outcast, and he 'll droop at once. A few kind words, and
+a voice he loved, _now_, will do more than all my art could replace a
+little later."
+
+"You mean that we ought to have him back here?" asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+"I mean that he ought to be where he can be carefully and kindly
+treated."
+
+"I 'll tell the Chief you think so. I 'll say that you dropped the
+remark to myself, of course,--never meaning to dictate anything to
+_him_."
+
+Beattie shook his head in sign of doubt.
+
+"I know him well, better perhaps than any one, and I know there's no
+more generous man breathing; but he must not be coerced,--he must not be
+even influenced, where the question be one for a decision. As he said to
+me one day, 'I want the evidence, sir, I don't want your speech to it.'"
+
+"There 's the evidence, then," said Beattie,--"that note with its
+wavering letters, weak and uncertain as the fingers that traced
+them,--show him that. Say, if you like, that _I_ read it and thought
+the lad's case critical. If, after that, he wishes to talk to me on the
+subject, I 'm ready to state my opinion. If the boy be like his father,
+a few tender words and a little show of interest for him will be worth
+all the tonics that ever were brewed."
+
+"It's the grandfather's nature too; but the world has never known
+it,--probably never will know it," said Haire.
+
+"In that I agree with you," said Beattie, dryly.
+
+"He regards it as a sort of weakness when people discover any act of
+generosity or any trait of kindliness about him; and do you know," added
+he, confidentially, "I have often thought that what the world
+regarded as irritability and sharpness was nothing more nor less than
+shyness,--just shyness."
+
+"I certainly never suspected that he was the victim of that quality."
+
+"No, I imagine not. A man must know him as I do to-understand it. I
+remember one day, long, long ago, I went so far as to throw out a half
+hint that I thought he labored under this defect; he only smiled and
+said, 'You suspect me of diffidence. I am diffident,--no man more so,
+sir; but it is of the good or great qualities in other men.' Was n't
+that a strange reply? I never very clearly understood it,--do you?"
+
+"I suspect I do; but here comes a message to us."
+
+Haire spoke a word with the servant, and then, turning: to Beattie,
+said: "He wants to see me. I 'll just step in, and be back in a moment."
+
+Beattie promised not to leave till he returned, and strolled along
+by the side of a little brook which meandered tastefully through the
+greensward. He had fallen into a revery,--a curious inquiry within
+himself whether it were a boon or an evil for a man to have acquired
+that sort of influence over another mind which makes his every act and
+word seem praiseworthy and excellent. "I wonder is the Chief the better
+or the worse for this indiscriminating attachment? Does it suggest
+a standard to attain to, or does it merely minister to self-love and
+conceit? Which is it? which is it?" cried he, aloud, as he stood and
+gazed on the rippling rivulet beside him.
+
+"Shall I tell you?" said a low, sweet voice; and Lucy Lendrick slipped
+her arm within his as she spoke,--"shall I tell you, doctor?"
+
+"Do, by all means."
+
+"A little of both, I opine. Mind," said she, laughing, "I have not the
+vaguest notion of what you were balancing in your mind, but somehow
+I suspect unmixed good or evil is very rare, and I take my stand on a
+compromise. Am I right?"
+
+"I scarcely know, but I can't submit the case to you. I have an
+old-fashioned prejudice against letting young people judge their
+seniors. Let us talk of something else. What shall it be?"
+
+"I want to talk to you of Tom."
+
+"I have just been speaking to Haire about him. We must get him back
+here, Lucy,--we really must."
+
+"Do you mean here, in this house, doctor?"
+
+"Here, in this house. Come, don't shake your head, Lucy. I see the
+necessity for it on grounds you know nothing of. Lady Lendrick is
+surrounding your grandfather with her family, and I want Tom back here
+just that the Chief should see what a thorough Lendrick he is. If your
+grandfather only knew the stuff that's in him, he 'd be prouder of him
+than of all his own successes."
+
+"No, no, no,--a thousand times no, doctor! It would never do,--believe
+me, it would never do. There are things which a girl may submit to in
+quiet obedience, which in a man would require subserviency. The Sewells,
+too, are to be here on Saturday, and who is to say what that may bring
+forth?"
+
+"She wrote to you," said the doctor, with a peculiar significance in his
+voice.
+
+"Yes, a strange sort of note too; I almost wish I could show it to
+you,--I 'd so like to hear what you 'd say of the spirit of the writer."
+
+"She told me she would write," said he again, with a more marked meaning
+in his manner.
+
+"You shall see it," said she, resolutely; "here it is;" and she drew
+forth the letter and handed it to him. For an instant she seemed as
+if about to speak, but suddenly, as if changing her mind, she merely
+murmured, "Read it, and tell me what you think of it." The note ran
+thus:--
+
+"My dearest Lucy,--We are to meet to-morrow, and I hope and trust to
+meet like sisters who love each other. Let me make one brief explanation
+before that moment arrives. I cannot tell what rumors may have reached
+you of all that has happened here. I know nothing of what people say,
+nor have I the faintest idea how our life may have been represented. If
+you knew me longer and better, you would know that I neither make this
+ignorance matter of complaint nor regret. I have lived about long enough
+to take the world at its just value, and not to make its judgments of
+such importance as can impair my self-esteem and my comfort. It would,
+however, have been agreeable to me to have known what you may have heard
+of me--of us--as it is not impossible I might have felt the necessity to
+add something,--to correct something,--perhaps to deny something. I am
+now in the dark, and pray forgive me if I stumble rudely against you,
+where I only meant to salute you courteously.
+
+"You at least know the great disaster which befell here. Dr. Beattie
+has told you the story,--what more he may have said I cannot guess. If
+I were to wait for our meeting, I should not have to ask you. I should
+read it in your face, and hear it in every accent of your voice; but I
+write these few lines that you may know me at once in all frankness
+and openness, and know that if _you_ be innocent of _my_ secret, _I_ at
+least have _yours_ in my keeping. Yes, Lucy, I know all; and when I say
+all, I mean far more than you yourself know.
+
+"If I were treacherous, I would not make this avowal to you. I should be
+satisfied with the advantage I possessed, and employ it to my
+benefit. Perhaps with any other woman than yourself I should play this
+part,--with you I neither can nor will. I will declare to you frankly
+and at once, you have lost the game and I have won it. That I say this
+thus briefly, is because in amplifying I should seem to be attempting to
+explain what there is no explaining. That I say it in no triumph, my own
+conscious inferiority to you is the best guarantee. I never would have
+dreamed of a rivalry had I been a girl. It is because I cannot claim the
+prize I have won it. It is because my victory is my misery I have gained
+it. I think I know your nature well enough to know that you will bear me
+no ill-will. I even go so far as to believe I shall have your compassion
+and your sympathy. I need them more, far more, than you know of. I could
+tell you that had matters fallen out differently it would not have
+been to _your_ advantage, for there were obstacles--family
+obstacles--perfectly insurmountable. This is no pretence: on my honor I
+pledge to the truth of what I say. So long as I believed they might be
+overcome, I was in _your_ interest, Lucy. You will not believe me, will
+you, if I swear it? Will you if I declare it on my knees before you?
+
+"If I have not waited till we met to say these things, it is that we may
+meet with open hearts, in sorrow, but in sincerity. When I have told
+you everything, you will see that I have not been to blame. There may
+be much to grieve over, but there is nothing to reprehend--anywhere.
+And now, how is our future to be? It is for you to decide. I have not
+wronged you, and yet I am asking for forgiveness. Can you give me your
+love, and what I need as much, your pity? Can you forget your smaller
+affliction for the sake of my heavier one, for it is heavier?
+
+"I plead guilty to one only treachery; and this I stooped to, to avoid
+the shame and disgrace of an open scandal. I told his mother that,
+though Lucy was my name, it was yours also; and that you were the Lucy
+of all his feverish wanderings. Your woman's heart will pardon me this
+one perfidy.
+
+"She is a very dangerous woman in one sense. She has a certain position
+in the world, from which she could and would open a fire of slander on
+any one. She desires to injure me. She has already threatened, and she
+is capable of more than threatening. She says she will see Sir William.
+This she may not be able to do; but she can write to him. You know
+better than I do what might ensue from two such tempers meeting; for
+myself I cannot think of it.
+
+"I have written you a long letter, dear Lucy, when I only meant to have
+written five or six lines. I have not courage to read it over; were I
+to do so, I am sure I would never send it. Perhaps you will not thank
+me for my candor. Perhaps you will laugh at all my scrupulous
+honesty. Perhaps you will--no, that you never will--I mean, employ my
+trustfulness against myself.
+
+"Who knows if I have not given to this incident an importance which you
+will only smile at? There are people so rich that they never are aware
+if they be robbed. Are you one of these, Lucy? and, if so, will you
+forgive the thief who signs herself your ever-loving sister,
+
+"Lucy Skwell.
+
+"I have told Dr. Beattie I would write to you; he looked as if he knew
+that I might, or that I ought,--which is it? Doctors see a great deal
+more than they ought to see. The great security against them is, that
+they acquire an indifference to the sight of suffering, which, in
+rendering them callous, destroys curiosity, and then all ills that can
+neither be bled nor blistered they treat as trifles, and end by ignoring
+altogether. Were it otherwise,--that is, had they any touch of humanity
+in their nature,--they would be charming confidants, for they know
+everything and can go everywhere. If Beattie should be one of your pets,
+I ask pardon for this impertinence; but don't forget it altogether, as,
+one day or other, you will be certain to acknowledge its truth.
+
+"We arrive by the 4.40 train on Saturday afternoon. If I see you at the
+door when we drive up, I shall take it as a sign I am forgiven."
+
+Beattie folded the letter slowly, and handed it to Lucy without a
+word. "Tell me," said he, after they had walked on several seconds in
+silence,--"tell me, do you mean to-be at the door as she arrives?"
+
+"I think not," said she, in a very low voice.
+
+"She has a humble estimate of doctors; but there is one touch of nature
+she must not deny them,--they are very sensitive about contagion. Now,
+Lucy, I wish with all my heart that you were not to be the intimate
+associate of this woman."
+
+"So do I, doctor; but how is it to be helped?"
+
+He walked along silent and in deep thought.
+
+"Shall I tell you, doctor, how it can be managed, but only by your help
+and assistance? I must leave this."
+
+"Leave the Priory! but for where?"
+
+"I shall go and nurse Tom: he needs _me_, doctor, and I believe I need
+_him_; that is, I yearn after that old companionship which made all my
+life till I came here--Come now, don't oppose this plan; it is only by
+your hearty aid it can ever be carried out. When you have told grandpapa
+that the thought is a good one, the battle will be more than half won.
+You see yourself I ought not to be here."
+
+"Certainly not here with Mrs. Sewell; but there comes the grave
+difficulty of how you are to be lodged and cared for in that wild
+country where your brother lives?"
+
+"My dear doctor, I have never known pampering till I came here. Our life
+at home--and was it not happy!--was of the very simplest. To go back
+again to the same humble ways will be like a renewal of the happy past;
+and then Tom and I suit each other so well,--our very caprices are
+kindred. Do say you like this notion, and tell me you will forward it."
+
+"The very journey is an immense difficulty."
+
+"Not a bit, doctor; I have planned it all. From this to Marseilles
+is easy enough,--only forty hours; once there, I either go direct to
+Cagliari, or catch the Sardinian steamer at Genoa--"
+
+"You talk of these places as if they were all old acquaintances; but, my
+dear child, only fancy yourself alone in a foreign city. I don't speak
+of the difficulties of a new language."
+
+"You might, though, my dear doctor. My French and Italian, which carry
+me on pleasantly enough with Racine and Ariosto, will expose me sadly
+with my 'commissionnaire.'"
+
+"But quite alone you cannot go,--that's certain."
+
+"I must not take a maid, that's as certain; Tom would only send us both
+back again. If you insist, and if grandpapa insists upon it, I will take
+old Nicholas. He thinks it a great hardship that he has not been carried
+away over seas to see the great world; and all his whims and tempers
+that tortured us as children will only amuse us now; his very tyranny
+will be good fun."
+
+"I declare frankly," said the doctor, laughing, "I do not see how the
+difficulties of foreign travel are to be lessened by the presence of old
+Nicholas; but are you serious in all this?"
+
+"Perfectly serious, and fully determined on it, if I be permitted."
+
+"When would you go?"
+
+"At once! I mean as soon as possible. The Sewells are to be here on
+Saturday. I would leave on Friday evening by the mail-train from London.
+I would telegraph to Tom to say on what day he might expect me."
+
+"To-day is Tuesday; is it possible you could be ready?"
+
+"I would start to-night, doctor, if you only obtain my leave."
+
+"It is all a matter of the merest chance how your grandfather will take
+it," said Beattie, musing.
+
+"But _you_ approve? tell me you approve of it."
+
+"There is certainly much in the project that I like. I cannot bear to
+think of your living here with the Sewells; my experience of them
+is very brief, but it has taught me to know there could be no worse
+companionship for you; but as these are things that cannot be spoken
+of to the Chief, let us see by what arguments we should approach him.
+I will go at once. Haire is with him, and he is sure to see that what I
+suggest has come from you. If it should be the difficulty of the journey
+your grandfather objects to, Lucy, I will go as far as Marseilles with
+you myself, and see you safely embarked before I leave you."
+
+She took his hand and kissed it twice, but was not able to utter a word.
+
+"There, now, my dear child, don't agitate yourself; you need all your
+calm and all your courage. Loiter about here till I come to you, and it
+shall not be long."
+
+"What a true, kind friend you are!" said she, as her eyes grew dim with
+tears. "I am more anxious about this than I like to own, perhaps.
+Will you, if you bring me good tidings, make me a signal with your
+handkerchief?"
+
+He promised this, and left her.
+
+Lucy sat down under a large elm-tree, resolving to wait there patiently
+for his return; but her fevered anxiety was such that she could not rest
+in one place, and was forced to rise and walk rapidly up and down.
+She imagined to herself the interview, and fancied she heard her
+grandfather's stern question,--whether she were not satisfied with her
+home? What could he do more for her comfort or happiness than he had
+done? Oh, if he were to accuse her of ingratitude, how should she bear
+it? Whatever irritability he might display towards others, to herself he
+had always been kind and thoughtful and courteous.
+
+She really loved him, and liked his companionship, and she felt that if
+in leaving him she should consign him to solitude and loneliness, she
+could scarcely bring herself to go; but he was now to be surrounded with
+others, and if they were not altogether suited to him by taste or habit,
+they would, even for their own sakes, try to conform to his ways and
+likings.
+
+Once more she bethought her of the discussion, and how it was faring.
+Had her grandfather suffered Beattie to state the case fully, and say
+all that he might in its favor? or had he, as was sometimes his wont,
+stopped him short with a peremptory command to desist? And then what
+part had Haire taken? Haire, for whose intelligence the old Judge
+entertained the lowest possible estimate, had somehow an immense
+influence over him, just as instincts are seen too strong for reason.
+Some traces of boyish intercourse yet survived and swayed his mind with
+his consciousness of its power.
+
+"How long it seems!" murmured she. "Does this delay augur ill for
+success, or is it that they are talking over the details of the plan?
+Oh, if I could be sure of that! My poor dear Tom, how I long to be
+near you--to care for you--and watch you!" and as she said this, a cold
+sickness came over her, and she muttered aloud: "What perfidy it all is!
+As if I was not thinking of myself, and my own sorrows, while I try to
+believe I am but thinking of my brother." And now her tears streamed
+fast down her cheeks, and her heart felt as if it would burst. "It must
+be an hour since he left this," said she, looking towards the house,
+where all was still and motionless. "It is not possible that they are
+yet deliberating. Grandpapa is never long in coming to a decision.
+Surely all has been determined on before this, and why does he not come
+and relieve me from my miserable uncertainty?"
+
+At last the hall door opened, and Haire appeared; he beckoned to her
+with his hand to come, and then re-entered the house. Lucy knew not what
+to think of this, and she could scarcely drag her steps along as she
+tried to hasten back. As she entered the hall, Haire met her, and,
+taking her hand cordially, said, "It is all right; only be calm, and
+don't agitate him. Come in now;" and with this she found herself in
+the room where the old Judge was sitting, his eyes closed and his whole
+attitude betokening sleep. Beattie sat at his side, and held one hand in
+his own. Lucy knelt down and pressed her lips to the other hand, which
+hung over the arm of the chair. Gently drawing away the hand, the old
+man laid it on her head, and in a low faint voice said: "I must not look
+at you, Lucy, or I shall recall my pledge. You are going away!"
+
+The young girl turned her tearful eyes towards him, and held her lips
+firmly closed to repress a sob, while her cheeks trembled with emotion.
+
+"Beattie tells me you are right," continued he, with a sigh; and then,
+with a sort of aroused energy, he added; "But old age, amongst its other
+infirmities, fancies that right should yield to years. '_Ce sont les
+droits de la decrepitude_,' as La Rochefoucauld calls them. I will
+not insist upon my 'royalties,' Lucy, this time. You shall go to your
+brother." His hand trembled as it lay on her head, and then fell heavily
+to his side. Lucy clasped it eagerly, and pressed it to her cheek, and
+all was silent for some seconds in the room.
+
+At last the old man spoke, and it was now in a clear distinct voice,
+though weak. "Beattie will tell you everything, Lucy; he has all my
+instructions. Let him now have yours. To-morrow we shall, both of us, be
+calmer, and can talk over all together. To-morrow will be Thursday?"
+
+"Wednesday, grandpapa."
+
+"Wednesday,--all the better, my dear child; another day gained. I say,
+Beattie," cried he in a louder tone, "I cannot have fallen into the
+pitiable condition the newspapers describe, or I could never have gained
+this victory over my selfishness. Come, sir, be frank enough to own that
+where a man combats himself, he asserts his identity. Haire will go out
+and give that as his own," muttered he; and as he smiled, he lay back,
+his breathing grew heavier and longer, and he sank into a quiet sleep.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. SOME CONJUGAL COURTESIES
+
+"You have not told me what she wrote to you," said Sewell to his wife,
+as he smoked his cigar at one side of the fire while she read a novel
+at the other. It was to be their last evening at the Nest; on the morrow
+they were to leave it for the Priory. "Were there any secrets in it, or
+were there allusions that I ought not to see?"
+
+"Not that I remember," said she, carelessly.
+
+"What about our coming? Does the old man seem to wish for it?--how does
+she herself take it?"
+
+"She says nothing on the subject, beyond her regret at not being there
+to meet us."
+
+"And why can't she?--where will she be?"
+
+"At sea, probably, by that time. She goes off to Sardinia to her
+brother."
+
+"What! do you mean to that fellow who is living with Fossbrooke? Why did
+n't you tell me this before?"
+
+"I don't think I remembered it; or, if I did, it's possible I thought it
+could not have much interest for you."
+
+"Indeed, Madam! do you imagine that the only things I care for are the
+movements of _your_ admirers? Where 's this letter? I 'd like to see
+it."
+
+"I tore it up. She begged me to do so when I had read it."
+
+"How honorable! I declare you ladies conduct your intercourse with an
+integrity that would be positively charming to think of if only your
+male friends were admitted to any share of the fair dealing. Tell me so
+much as you can remember of this letter."
+
+"She spoke of her brother having had a fever, and being now better, but
+so weak and reduced as to require great care and attention, and obliged
+to remove for change of air to a small island off the coast."
+
+"And Fossbrooke,--does she mention _him?_"
+
+"Only that he is not with her brother, except occasionally: his business
+detains him near Cagliari."
+
+"I hope it may continue to detain him there! Has this-young woman gone
+off all alone on this journey?"
+
+"She has taken no maid. She said it might prove inconvenient to her
+brother; and has only an old family servant she calls Nicholas with
+her."
+
+"So, then, we have the house to ourselves so far. She 'll not be in a
+hurry back, I take it. Anything would be better than the life she led
+with her grandfather."
+
+"She seems sorry to part with him, and recurs three or four times to his
+kindness and affection."
+
+"His kindness and affection! His vanity and self-love are nearer the
+mark. I thought I had seen something of conceit and affectation, but
+that old fellow leaves everything in that line miles behind. He is,
+without exception, the greatest bore and the most insupportable bully I
+ever encountered."
+
+"Lucy liked him."
+
+"She did not,--she could not. It suits you women to say these things,
+because you cultivate hypocrisy so carefully that you carry on the game
+with each other! How could any one, let her be ever so abject, like that
+incessant homage this old man exacted,--to be obliged to be alive to his
+vapid jokes and his dreary stories, to his twaddling reminiscences of
+college success or House of Commons--Irish House too--triumphs? Do
+you think if I wasn't a beggar I 'd go and submit myself to such a
+discipline?"
+
+To this she made no reply, and for a while there was a silence in the
+room. At last he said, "_You'll_ have to take up that line of character
+that _she_ acted. _You'll_ have to 'swing the incense' now. I'll be shot
+if _I_ do."
+
+She gave no answer, and he went on: "You 'll have to train the brats
+too to salute him, and kiss his hand and call him--what are they to call
+him--grandpapa? Yes, they must say grandpapa. How I wish I had not sent
+in my papers! If I had only imagined I could have planted you all here,
+I could have gone back to my regiment and served out my time."
+
+"It might have been better," said she, in a low voice.
+
+"Of course it would have been better; each of us would have been
+free, and there are few people, be it said, take more out of their
+freedom,--eh, Madam?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders carelessly, but a slight, a very slight,
+flush colored her cheek.
+
+"By the way, now we're on that subject, have you answered Lady
+Trafford's letter?"
+
+"Yes," said she; and now her cheek grew crimson.
+
+"And what answer did you send?"
+
+"I sent back everything."
+
+"What do you mean?--your rings and trinkets, the bracelet with the
+hair--mine, of course,--it could be no one's but mine."
+
+"All, everything," said she, with a gulp.
+
+"I must read the old woman's letter over again. You have n't burnt
+_that_, I hope?"
+
+"No; it's upstairs in my writing-desk."
+
+"I declare," said he, rising and standing with his back to the fire,
+"you women, and especially fine ladies, say things to each other that
+men never would dare to utter to other men. That old dame, for
+instance, charged you with what we male creatures have no equivalent
+for,--cheating at play would be mild in comparison."
+
+"I don't think that _you_ escaped scot-free," said she, with an intense
+bitterness, though her tone was studiously subdued and low.
+
+"No," said he, with a jeering laugh. "I figured as the accessory or
+accomplice, or whatever the law calls it. I was what polite French
+ladies call _le mari complaisant_,--a part I am so perfect in, Madam,
+that I almost think I ought to play it for my Benefit.' What do you say?"
+
+"Oh, sir, it is not for me to pass an opinion on your abilities."
+
+"I have less bashfulness," said he, fiercely. "I 'll venture to say a
+word on _yours_. I 've told you scores of times--I told you in India,
+I told you at the Cape, I told you when we were quarantined at Trieste,
+and I tell you now--that you never really captivated any man much under
+seventy. When they are tottering on to the grave, bald, blear-eyed, and
+deaf, you are perfectly irresistible; and I wish--really I say it in all
+good faith--you would limit the sphere of your fascinations to such very
+frail humanities. Trafford only became spooney after that smash on the
+skull; as he grew better, he threw off his delusions,--did n't he?"
+
+"So he told me," said she, with perfect calm.
+
+"By Jove! that was a great fluke of mine," cried he, aloud. "That was a
+hazard I never so much as tried. So that this fellow had made some sort
+of a declaration to you?"
+
+"I never said so."
+
+"What was it then that you _did_ say, Madam? Let us understand each
+other clearly."
+
+"Oh, I am sure we need no explanations for that," said she, rising, and
+moving towards the door.
+
+"I want to hear about this before you go," said he, standing between her
+and the door.
+
+"You are not going to pretend jealousy, are you?" said she, with an easy
+laugh.
+
+"I should think not," said he, insolently. "That is about one of the
+last cares will ever rob me of my rest at night. I 'd like to know,
+however, what pretext I have to send a ball through your young friend."
+
+"Oh, as to that peril, it will not rob _me_ of a night's rest," said
+she, with such a look of scorn and contempt as seemed actually to sicken
+him, for he staggered back as though about to fall and she passed out
+ere he could recover himself.
+
+"It is to be no quarter between us then! Well, be it so," cried he, as
+he sank heavily into a seat. "She's playing a bold game when she goes
+thus far." He leaned his head on the table, and sat thus so long that he
+appeared to have fallen asleep; indeed, the servant who came to tell
+him that tea was served, feared to disturb him, and retired without
+speaking. Far from sleeping, however, his head was racked with a
+maddening pain, and he kept on muttering to himself, "This is the second
+time--the second time she has taunted me with cowardice. Let her beware!
+Is there no one will warn her against what she is doing?"
+
+"Missis says, please, sir, won't you have a cup of tea?" said the maid
+timidly at the door.
+
+"No; I'll not take any."
+
+"Missis says too, sir, that Miss Blanche is tuk poorly, and has a
+shiverin' over her, and a bad headache, and she hopes you 'll send in
+for Dr. Tobin."
+
+"Is she in bed?"
+
+"Yes, sir, please."
+
+"I'll go up and see her;" and with this he arose and passed up the
+little stair that led to the nursery. In one bed a little dark-haired
+girl of about three years old lay fast asleep; in the adjoining bed a
+bright blue-eyed child of two years or less lay wide awake, her cheeks
+crimson, and the expression of her features anxious and excited. Her
+mother was bathing her temples with cold water as Sewell entered, and
+was talking in a voice of kind and gentle meaning to the child.
+
+"That stupid woman of yours said it was Blanche," said Sewell,
+pettishly, as he gazed at the little girl.
+
+"I told her it was Cary; she has been heavy all day, and eaten nothing.
+No, pet,--no, darling," said she, stooping over the sick child, "pa is
+not angry; he is only sorry that little Cary is ill."
+
+"I suppose you'd better have Tobin to see her," said he, coldly. "I 'll
+tell George to take the tax-cart and fetch him out. It's well it was n't
+Blanche," muttered he, as he sauntered out of the room. His wife's eyes
+followed him as he went, and never did a human face exhibit a stronger
+show of repressed passion than hers, as, with closely compressed lips
+and staring eyes, she watched him as he passed out.
+
+"The fool frightened me,--she said it was Blanche," were the words he
+continued to mutter as he went down the stairs.
+
+Tobin arrived in due time, and pronounced the case not serious,--a mere
+feverish attack that only required a day or two of care and treatment.
+
+"Have you seen Colonel Sewell?" said Mrs. Sewell, as she accompanied the
+doctor downstairs.
+
+"Yes; I told him just what I 've said to you."
+
+"And what reply did he make?"
+
+"He said, 'All right! I have business in town, and must start to-morrow.
+My wife and the chicks can follow by the end of the week.'"
+
+"It's so like him!--so like him!" said she, as though the pent-up
+passion could no longer be restrained.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL. MR. BALFOUR'S OFFICE
+
+On arriving in Dublin, Sewell repaired at once to Balfour's office in
+the Castle yard; he wanted to "hear the news," and it was here that
+every one went who wanted to "hear the news." There are in all cities,
+but more especially in cities of the second order, certain haunts where
+the men about town repair; where, like the changing-houses of bankers,
+people exchange their "credits,"--take up their own notes, and give up
+those of their neighbors.
+
+Sewell arrived before the usual time when people dropped in, and found
+Balfour alone and at breakfast. The Under-Secretary's manner was dry, so
+much Sewell saw as he entered; he met him as though he had seen him the
+day before, and this, when men have not seen each other for some time,
+has a certain significance. Nor did he ask when he had come up, nor
+in any way recognize that his appearance was matter of surprise or
+pleasure.
+
+"Well, what's going on here?" said Sewell, as he flung himself into an
+easy-chair, and turned towards the fire. "Anything new?"
+
+"Nothing particular. I don't suppose you care for the Cattle Show or the
+Royal Irish Academy?"
+
+"Not much,--at least, I can postpone my inquiries about them. How about
+my place here? Are you going to give me trouble about it?"
+
+"Your place,--your place?" muttered the other, once or twice; and then,
+standing up with his back to the fire, and his skirts over his arms,
+he went on. "Do you want to hear the truth about this affair, or are we
+only to go on sparring with the gloves, eh?"
+
+"The truth, of course, if such a novel proceeding should not be too much
+of a shock to you."
+
+"No, I suspect not. I do a little of everything every day just to keep
+my hand in."
+
+"Well, go on now, out with this truth."
+
+"Well, the truth is,--I am now speaking confidentially,--if I were you I
+'d not press my claim to that appointment,--do you perceive?"
+
+"I do not; but perhaps I may when you have explained yourself a little
+more fully."
+
+"And," continued he, in the same tone, and as though no interruption had
+occurred, "that's the opinion of Halkett, and Doyle, and Jocelyn, and
+the rest."
+
+"Confidentially, of course," said Sewell, with a sneer so slight as not
+to be detected.
+
+"I may say confidentially, because it was at dinner we talked it
+over, and we were only the household,--no guests but Byam Herries and
+Barrington."
+
+"And you all agreed?"
+
+"Yes, there was not a dissentient voice but Jocelyn's, who said, if he
+were in your place, he'd insist on having all the papers and letters
+given up to him. His view is this: 'What security have I that the same
+charges are not to be renewed again and again? I submit now, but am I
+always to submit? Are my Indian'--(what shall I call them? I forget what
+he called them; I believe it was escapades)--'my Indian escapades to
+declare me unfit to hold anything under the Crown?' He said a good deal
+in that strain, but we did not see it. It was hard, to be sure, but we
+did not see it. As Halkett said, 'Sewell has had his innings already in
+India. If, with a pretty wife and a neat turn for billiards, he did not
+lay by enough to make his declining years comfortable, I must say that
+he was not provident.' Doyle, however, remarked that after that affair
+with Loftus up at Agra--wasn't it Agra?"--Sewell nodded--"it was n't
+so easy for you to get along as many might think, and that you were
+a devilish clever fellow to do what you had done. Doyle likes you,
+I think." Sewell nodded again, and, after a slight pause, Balfour
+proceeded: "And it was Doyle, too, said, 'Why not try for something in
+the colonies? There are lots of places a man can go and nothing be ever
+heard of him. If I was Sewell, I 'd say, Make me a barrackmaster in the
+Sandwich Islands, or a consul in the Caraccas.'
+
+"They all concurred in one thing, that you never did so weak a thing in
+your whole life as to have any dealings with Trafford. It was his mother
+went to the Duke--ay, into the private office at the Horse Guards--and
+got Clifford's appointment cancelled, just for a miserable five hundred
+pounds Jack won off the elder brother,--that fellow who died last year
+at Madeira. She's the most dangerous woman in Europe. She does not care
+what she says, nor to whom she says it. She 'd go up to the Queen at a
+drawing-room and make a complaint as soon as she 'd speak to you or
+me. As it is, she told their Excellencies here all that went on in your
+house, and I suppose scores of things that did not go on either, and
+said, 'And are you going to permit this man to be'--she did not remember
+what, but she said--'a high official under the Crown? and are you going
+to receive his wife amongst your intimates?' What a woman she is! To
+hear her you 'd think her 'dear child,' instead of being a strapping
+fellow of six feet two, was a brat in knickerbockers, with a hat and
+feather. The fellow himself must be a consummate muff to be bullied
+by her; but then the estate is not entailed, they say, and there's a
+younger brother may come into it all. His chances look well just now,
+for Lionel has got a relapse, and the doctors think very ill of him."
+
+"I had not heard that," said Sewell, calmly.
+
+"Oh, he was getting on most favorably,--was able to sit up at the
+window, and move a little about the room,--when, one morning Lady
+Trafford had driven over to the Lodge to luncheon, he stepped downstairs
+in his dressing-gown as he was, got into a cab, and drove off into the
+country. All the cabman could tell was that he ordered him to take the
+road to Rathfarnham, and said, 'I 'll tell you by and by where to;' and
+at last he said, 'Where does Sir William Lendrick live?' and though the
+man knew the Priory, he had taken a wrong turn and got down to ask
+the road. Just at this moment a carriage drove by with two grays and a
+postilion--A young lady was inside with an elderly gentleman, and the
+moment Trafford saw her he cried out, 'There she is,--that is she!' As
+hard as they could they hastened after; but they smashed a trace, and
+lost several minutes in repairing it, and as many more in finding out
+which way the carriage had taken. It was to Kingstown, and, as the
+cabman suspected, to catch the packet for Holyhead; for just as they
+drove up, the steamer edged away from the pier, and the carriage with
+the grays drove off with only the old man, Trafford fell back in a
+faint, and appeared to have continued so, for when they took him out of
+the cab at Bilton's he was insensible.
+
+"Beattie says he'll come through it, but Maclin thinks he 'll never be
+the same man again; he 'll have a hardening or a softening--which is
+it?--of the brain, and that he'll be fit for nothing."
+
+"Except a place in the viceregal household, perhaps. I don't imagine you
+want gold-medallists for your gentlemen-in-waiting?"
+
+"We have some monstrous clever fellows, let me tell you. Halkett made
+a famous examination at Sandhurst, and Jocelyn wrote that article in
+'Bell's Life,' 'The Badger Drawn at Last.'"
+
+"To come back to where we were, how are you to square matters with the
+Chief Baron? Are you going to law with him about this appointment, or
+are you about to say that _I_ am the objection? Let me have a definite
+answer to this question."
+
+"We have not fully decided; we think of doing either, and we sometimes
+incline to do both. At all events, we are not to have it; that's the
+only thing certain."
+
+"Have you got a cigar? No, not these things; I mean something that can
+be smoked."
+
+"Try this," said Balfour, offering his case.
+
+"They 're the same as those on the chimney. I must say, Balfour, the
+traditional hospitalities of the Castle are suffering in their present
+hands. When I dined here the last time I was in town, they gave me two
+glasses of bad sherry and one glass of a corked Gladstone; and I came
+to dinner that day after reading in Barrington all about the glorious
+festivities of the Irish Court in the olden days of Richmond and
+Bedford."
+
+"Lady Trafford insists that your names--your wife's as well as your
+own--are to be scratched from the dinner-list. Sir Hugh has three votes
+in the House, and she bullies us to some purpose, I can tell you. I
+can't think how you could have made this woman so much your enemy. It is
+not dislike,--it is hatred."
+
+"Bad luck, I suppose," said Sewell, carelessly.
+
+"She seems so inveterate too; she'll not give you up, very probably."
+
+"Women generally don't weary in this sort of pursuit."
+
+"Couldn't you come to some kind of terms? Couldn't you contrive to let
+her know that you have no designs on her boy? You've won money of him,
+have n't you?"
+
+"I have some bills of his,--not for a very large amount, though; you
+shall have them a bargain."
+
+"I seldom speculate," was the dry rejoinder.
+
+"You are right; nor is this the case to tempt you."
+
+"They 'll be paid, I take it?"
+
+"Paid! I'll swear they shall!" said Sewell, fiercely. "I'll stand a deal
+of humbug about dinner invitations, and cold salutations, and such-like;
+but none, sir, not one, about what touches a material interest."
+
+"It's not worth being angry about," said Balfour, who was really glad to
+see the other's imperturbability give way.
+
+"I'm not angry. I was only a little impatient, as a man may be when he
+hears a fellow utter a truism as a measure of encouragement. Tell your
+friends--I suppose I must call them your friends--that they make an
+egregious mistake when they push a man like me to the wall. It is
+intelligible enough in a woman to do it; women don't measure their
+malignity, nor their means of gratifying it; but _men_ ought to know
+better."
+
+"I incline to think I'll tell my 'friends' nothing whatever on the
+subject."
+
+"That's as you please; but remember this,--if the day should come that
+I need any of these, details you have given me this morning, I'll quote
+them, and you too, as their author; and if I bring an old house about
+your ears, look out sharp for a falling chimney-pot! You gave me a piece
+of advice awhile ago," continued he, as he put on his hat before the
+glass, and arranged his necktie. "Let me repay you with two, which you
+will find useful in their several ways: Don't show your hand when
+you play with as shrewd men as myself; and, Don't offer a friend such
+execrable tobacco as that on the chimney;" and with this he nodded and
+strolled out, humming an air as he crossed the Castle yard and entered
+the city.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI. THE PRIORY IN ITS DESERTION
+
+The old Judge was very sad after Lucy's departure from the Priory. While
+she lived there they had not seen much of each other, it is true.
+They met at meal-times, and now and then Sir William would send up
+the housekeeper to announce a visit from him; but there is a sense of
+companionship in the consciousness that under the same roof with you
+dwells one upon whose affection you can draw, whose sympathy will be
+with you in your hour of need; and this the old man now felt to be
+waiting; and he wandered restlessly about the house and the garden,
+tenacious to see that nothing she liked or loved was threatened with any
+change, and repeating to all that she must find everything as she left
+it when she came back again.
+
+Sewell had been recalled to the country by the illness of his child, and
+they were not expected at the Priory for at least a week or two longer.
+Haire had gone on circuit, and even Beattie the Judge only saw hurriedly
+and at long intervals. With Lady Lendrick he had just had a most angry
+correspondence, ending in one of those estrangements which, had they
+been nations instead of individuals, would have been marked by the
+recall of their several envoys, but which they were satisfied to
+signalize by an order at the Priory gate-lodge not to admit her
+Ladyship's carriage, and an equally determined command at Merrion Square
+for the porter to take in no letters that came from the Chief Baron.
+
+Lest the world should connect this breach with any interest in my story,
+I may as well declare at once the incident had no possible bearing upon
+it. It was a little episode entirely self-contained, and consisted
+in Lady Lendrick having taken advantage of Sir William's illness and
+confinement to house to send for and use his carriage-horses,--a liberty
+which he resented by a most furious letter, to which the rejoinder
+begot another infinitely more sarcastic,--the correspondence ending by
+a printed notice which her Ladyship received in an envelope, that the
+Chief Baron's horses would be sold on the ensuing Saturday at Dycer's to
+the highest bidder, his Lordship having no further use for them.
+
+Let me own that the old Judge was sincerely sorry when this incident
+was concluded. So long as the contest lasted, while he was penning his
+epistle or waiting for the reply, his excitement rallied and sustained
+him. He used to sit after the despatch of one of his cutting letters
+calculating with himself the terror and consternation it produced, just
+as the captain of a frigate might have waited with eager expectancy
+that the smoke might drift away and show him the shattered spars or the
+yawning bulwarks of his enemy. But when his last missive was returned
+unopened, and the messenger reported that the doctor's carriage was at
+her Ladyship's door as he came away, the Judge collapsed at once, and
+all the dreariness of his deserted condition closed in upon him.
+
+Till Sewell returned to-town, Sir William resolved not to proceed
+farther with respect to the registrarship. His plan, long determined
+upon, was to induct him into the office, administer the oaths, and
+leave him to the discharge of the duties. The scandal of displacing an
+official would, he deemed, be too great a hazard for any government
+to risk. At all events, if such a conflict came, it would be a great
+battle, and with the nation for spectators.
+
+"The country shall ring with it," was the phrase he kept repeating
+over and over as he strolled through his neglected garden or his leafy
+shrubberies; but as he plodded along, alone and in silence, the dreary
+conviction would sometimes shoot across his mind that he had run his
+race, and that the world had wellnigh forgotten him. "In a few days
+more," sighed he out, "it will be over, and I shall be chronicled as
+the last of them." And for a moment it would rally him to recall
+the glorious names with which he claimed companionship, and compare
+them--with what disparagement!--with the celebrities of the time.
+
+It was strange how bright the lamp of intellect would shine out as the
+wick was fast sinking in the socket. His memory would revive some stormy
+scene in the House, some violent altercation at the Bar, and all the
+fiery eloquence of passion would recur to him, stirring his heart and
+warming his blood, till he half forgot his years, and stood forth, with
+head erect and swelling chest, strong with a sense of power and a whole
+soul full of ambition.
+
+"Beattie would not let me take my Circuit," would he say. "I wish he
+saw me to-day. Decaying powers! I would tell them that the Coliseum
+is grander in its ruin than all their stuccoed plastering in its trim
+propriety. Had he suffered me to go, the grand jury would have heard
+a charge such as men's ears have not listened to since Avonmore!
+Avon-more! what am I saying?--Yelverton had not half my law, nor a tenth
+part of my eloquence."
+
+In his self-exaltation he began to investigate whether he was greater as
+an advocate or as prosecutor. How difficult to decide! After all, it
+was in the balance of the powers thus displayed that he was great as a
+judge. He recalled the opinions of the press when he was raised to the
+bench, and triumphantly asked aloud, had he not justified every hope and
+contradicted every fear that was entertained of him? "Has my learning
+made me intolerant, or my brilliancy led me into impatience? Has the
+sense of superiority that I possess rendered me less conciliatory? Has
+my 'impetuous genius'--how fond they were of that phrase!--carried me
+away into boundless indiscretions? and have I, as one critic said, so
+concentrated the attention of the jury on myself that the evidence went
+for nothing and the charge was everything?"
+
+It was strange how these bursts of inordinate vanity and self-esteem
+appeared to rally and invigorate the old man, redressing, as it were,
+the balance of the world's injustice--such he felt it--towards him. They
+were like a miser's hoard, to be counted and re-counted in secret with
+that abiding assurance that he had wealth and riches, however others
+might deem him poor.
+
+It was out of these promptings of self-love that he drew the energetic
+powers that sustained him, broken and failing and old as he was.
+
+Carried on by his excited thoughts, he strayed away to a little mound,
+on which, under a large weeping-ash, a small bench was placed, from
+which a wide view extended over the surrounding country. There was a
+tradition of a summer-house on the spot in Curran's day, and it was
+referred to more than once in the diaries and letters of his friends;
+and the old Chief loved the place, as sacred to great memories.
+
+He had just toiled up the ascent, and gained the top, when a servant
+came to present him with a card and a letter, saying that the gentleman
+who gave them was then at the house. The card bore the name, "Captain
+Trafford,--th Regiment." The letter was of a few lines, and ran thus:--
+
+"My dear Sir William,--I had promised my friend and late patient Captain
+Trafford to take him over to the Priory this morning and present him to
+you. A sudden call has, however, frustrated the arrangement; and as
+his time is very brief, I have given him this as a credential to your
+acquaintance, and I hope you will permit him to stroll through the
+garden and the shrubberies, which he will accept as a great favor.
+I especially beg that you will lay no burden on your own strength to
+become his entertainer: he will be amply gratified by a sight of
+your belongings, of which he desires to carry the memory beyond
+seas.--Believe me very sincerely yours,
+
+"J. Beattie."
+
+"If the gentleman who brought this will do me the favor to come up here,
+say I shall be happy to see him."
+
+As the servant went on his message, the old man lay back on his seat,
+and, closing his eyes, muttered some few dropping words, implying his
+satisfaction at this act of reverential homage. "A young soldier too;
+it speaks well for the service when the men of action revere the men of
+thought. I am glad it is a good day with me; he shall carry away other
+memories than of woods and streams. Ah! here he comes."
+
+Slowly, and somewhat feebly, Trafford ascended the hill, and with a most
+respectful greeting approached the Judge.
+
+"I thank you for your courtesy in coming here, sir," said the Chief;
+"and when we have rested a little, I will be your _Cicerone_ back to the
+house." The conversation flowed on pleasantly between them, Sir William
+asking where Traflford had served, and what length of time he had been
+in Ireland,--his inquiries evidently indicating that he had not heard of
+him before, or, if he had, had forgotten him.
+
+"And now you are going to Malta?"
+
+"Yes, my Lord; we sail on the 12th."
+
+"Well, sir, Valetta has no view to rival that. See what a noble sweep
+the bay takes here, and mark how well the bold headlands define the
+limits! Look at that stretch of yellow beach, like a golden fillet round
+the sea; and then mark the rich woods waving in leafy luxuriance to
+the shore! Those massive shadows are to landscape what times of silent
+thought are to our moral natures. Do you like your service, sir?"
+
+"Yes, my Lord; there is much in it that I like. I would like it all if
+it were in 'activity.'"
+
+"I have much of the soldier in myself, and the qualities by which I
+have gained any distinction I have won are such as make generals,--quick
+decision, rapid intelligence, prompt action."
+
+Traflford bowed to this pretentions summary, but did not speak.
+
+The old Judge went on to describe what he called the military
+mind, reviewing in turn the generals of note from Hannibal down to
+Marlborough. "What have they left us by way of legacy, sir? The game,
+lost or won, teaches us as much! Is not a letter of Cicero, is not an
+ode of Horace worth it all? And as for battle-fields, it is the painter,
+not the warrior, has made them celebrated. Wouvermans has done more for
+war than Turenne!"
+
+"But, my Lord, there must be a large number of men like myself who make
+very tolerable soldiers, but who would turn out sorry poets or poor
+advocates."
+
+"Give me your arm now, and I will take you round by the fish-pond and
+show you where the 'Monks of the Screw' held their first meeting. You
+have heard of that convivial club?" Trafiford bowed; and the Judge went
+on to tell of the strange doings of those grave and thoughtful men,
+who-deemed no absurdity too great in their hours of distraction and
+levity. When they reached the house, the old man was so fatigued that
+he had to sit down in the porch to rest. "You have seen all, sir; all I
+have of memorable. You say you 'd like to see the garden, but there is
+not a memory connected with it. See it, however, by all means; saunter
+about till I have rallied a little, and then join me at my early dinner.
+I 'll send to tell you when it is ready. I am sorry it will be such
+a lonely meal; but she who could have thrown sunshine over it is
+gone--gone!" And he held his hands over his face, and said no more.
+Trafiford moved silently away, and went in search of the garden. He
+soon found the little wicket, and ere many minutes was deep in the leafy
+solitude of the neglected spot. At last he came upon the small gate
+in the laurel hedge, passing through which he entered the little
+flower-garden. Yes, yes; there was no doubting it! This was hers! Here
+were the flowers she tended; here the heavy bells from which she emptied
+the rain-drops; here the tendrils her own hands had trained! Oh, force
+of love, that makes the very ground holy, and gives to every leaf and
+bud an abiding value! He threw himself upon the sward and kissed it.
+There was a little seat under a large ilex--how often had she sat there
+thinking!--could it be thinking over the days beside the Shannon,--that
+delicious night they came back from Holy Island, the happiest of all his
+life? Oh, if he could but believe that she loved him! if he could only
+know that she did not think of him with anger and resentment!--for
+she might! Who could tell what might have been said of his life at the
+Sewells'? He had made a confidante of one who assumed to misunderstand
+him, and who overwhelmed him with a confession of her own misery, and
+declared she loved him; and this while he lay in a burning fever, his
+head racked with pain, and his mind on the verge of wandering. Was
+there-ever a harder fate than his? That he had forfeited the affection
+of his family, that he had wrecked his worldly fortunes, seemed little
+in his eyes to the danger of being thought ill of by her he loved.
+
+His father's last letter to him had been a command to leave the army and
+return home, to live there as became the expectant head of the house.
+"I will have your word of honor to abandon this ignoble passion"--so he
+called his love; "and in addition, your solemn pledge never to marry an
+Irishwoman." These words were, he well knew, supplied by his mother. It
+had been the incessant burden of her harangues to him during the tedious
+days of his recovery; and even when, on the morning of this very day,
+she had been suddenly recalled to England by a severe attack of illness
+of her husband, her last act before departure was to write a brief note
+to Lionel, declaring that if he should not follow her within a week, she
+would no longer conceive herself bound to maintain his interests against
+those of his more obedient and more affectionate brother.
+
+"Won't that help my recovery, doctor?" said he, showing the kind and
+generous epistle to Beattie. "Are not these the sort of tonic stimulants
+your art envies?"
+
+Beattie shook his head in silence, and after a long pause said, "Well,
+what was your reply to this?"
+
+"Can you doubt it? Don't you know it; or don't you know _me?_"
+
+"Perhaps I guess."
+
+"No, but you are certain of it, doctor. The regiment is ordered to
+Malta, and sails on the 12th. I go with them! Holt is a grand old place,
+and the estate is a fine one; I wish my brother every luck with both.
+Will you do me a favor,--a great favor?"
+
+"If in my power, you may be certain I will. What is it?"
+
+"Take me over to the Priory; I want to see it. You can find some pretext
+to present me to the Chief Baron, and obtain his leave to wander through
+the grounds."
+
+"I perceive--I apprehend," said Beattie, slyly. "There is no difficulty
+in this. The old Judge cherishes the belief that the spot is little
+short of sacred; he only wonders why men do not come as pilgrims to
+visit it. There is a tradition of Addison having lived there, while
+secretary in Ireland; Curran certainly did; and a greater than either
+now illustrates the locality."
+
+It was thus that Trafford came to be there; with what veneration for the
+haunts of genius let the reader picture to himself!
+
+"His Lordship is waiting dinner, sir," said a servant, abruptly, as he
+sat there--thinking, thinking; and he arose and followed the man to the
+house.
+
+The Chief Baron had spent the interval since they parted in preparing
+for the evening's display. To have for his guest a youth so imbued
+with reverence for Irish genius and ability, was no common event. Young
+Englishmen and soldiers, too, were not usually of this stuff; and the
+occasion to make a favorable impression was not to be lost.
+
+When he entered the dinner-room, Trafford was struck by seeing that
+the table was laid for three, though they were but two; and that on the
+napkin opposite to where he sat a small bouquet of fresh flowers was
+placed.
+
+"My granddaughter's place, sir," said the old Judge, as he caught his
+eye. "It is reserved for her return. May it be soon!"
+
+How gentle the old man's voice sounded as he said this, and how
+kindly his eyes beamed! Trafford thought there was something actually
+attractive in his features, and wondered he had not remarked it before.
+
+Perhaps on that day when the old Judge well knew how agreeable he was,
+what stores of wit and pleasantry he was pouring forth, his convictions
+assured him that his guest was charmed. It was a very pardonable
+delusion,--he talked with great brilliancy and vigor. He possessed the
+gift--which would really seem to be the especial gift of Irishmen of
+that day--to be a perfect relater. To a story he imparted that slight
+dash of dramatic situation and dialogue that made it lifelike, and yet
+never retarded the interest nor prolonged the catastrophe. Acute as was
+his wit, his taste was fully as conspicuous, never betraying him for an
+instant, so long as his personal vanity could be kept out of view.
+
+Trafford's eager and animated attention showed with what pleasure he
+listened; and the Chief, like all men who love to talk and know they
+talk well, talked all the better for the success vouchsafed to him. He
+even arrived at that stage of triumph in which he felt that his guest
+was no common man, and wondered if England really turned out many young
+fellows of this stamp,--so well read, so just, so sensible, so keenly
+alive to nice distinction, and so unerring in matters of taste.
+
+"You were schooled at Rugby, sir, you told me; and Rugby has reason
+to be proud if she can turn out such young men. I am only sorry Oxford
+should not have put the fine edge on so keen an intellect."
+
+Trafford blushed at a compliment he felt to be so unmerited, but the old
+man saw nothing of his confusion,--he was once again amongst the great
+scenes and actors of his early memories.
+
+"I hope you will spare me another day before you leave Ireland. Do you
+think you could give me Saturday?" said the Chief, as his guest arose to
+take leave.
+
+"I am afraid not, my Lord; we shall be on the march by that day."
+
+"Old men have no claim to use the future tense, or I should ask you to
+come and see me when you come back again."
+
+"Indeed will I. I cannot thank you enough for having asked me."
+
+"Why are there not more young men of that stamp?" said the old Judge,
+as he looked after him as he went. "Why are they not more generally
+cultivated and endowed as he is? It is long since I have found one more
+congenial to me in every way. I must tell Beattie I like his friend. I
+regret not to see more of him."
+
+It was in this strain Sir William ruminated and reflected; pretty much
+like many of us, who never think our critics so just or so appreciative
+as when they applaud ourselves.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII. NECESSITIES OP STATE
+
+It is, as regards views of life and the world, a somewhat narrowing
+process to live amongst sympathizers; and it may be assumed as an axiom,
+that no people so much minister to a man's littleness as those who pity
+him.
+
+Now, when Lady Lendrick separated from Sir William, she carried away
+with her a large following of sympathizers. The Chief Baron was well
+known; his haughty overbearing temper at the bar, his assuming attitude
+in public life, his turn for sarcasm and epigram, had all contributed to
+raise up for him a crowd of enemies; and these, if not individually well
+disposed to Lady Lendrick, could at least look compassionately on one
+whose conjugal fate had been so unfortunate. All _her_ shortcomings were
+lost sight of in presence of _his_ enormities, for the Chief Baron's
+temper was an Aaron's rod of irascibility, which devoured every other;
+and when the verdict was once passed, that "no woman could live with
+him," very few women offered a word in his defence.
+
+It is just possible that if it had not been for this weight in the
+opposite scale, Lady Lendrick herself would not have stood so high. Sir
+William's faults, however, were accounted to her for righteousness,
+and she traded on a very pretty capital in consequence. Surrounded by a
+large circle of female friends, she lived in a round of those charitable
+dissipations by which some people amuse themselves; and just as dull
+children learn their English history through a game, and acquire their
+geography through a puzzle, these grown-up children take in their
+Christianity by means of deaf and dumb bazaars, balls for blind
+institutions, and private theatricals for an orphan asylum. This
+devotion, made easy to the lightest disposition, is not, perhaps, a
+bad theory,--at least, it does not come amiss to an age which likes to
+attack its gravest ills in a playful spirit, to treat consumption with
+cough lozenges, and even moderate the excesses of insanity by soft
+music. There is another good feature, too, in the practice: it furnishes
+occupation and employment to a large floating class which,' for the
+interest and comfort of society, it is far better should be engaged in
+some pursuit, than left free to the indulgence of censorious tastes and
+critical habits. Lady Lendrick lived a sort of monarch amongst
+these. She was the patroness of this, the secretary of that, and
+the corresponding member of some other society. Never was an active
+intelligence more actively occupied; but she liked it all, for she liked
+power, and, strange as it may seem, there is in a small way an
+exercise of power even in these petty administrations. Loud, bustling,
+overbearing, and meddlesome, she went everywhere, and did everything.
+The only sustaining hope of those she interfered with was that she was
+too capricious to persist in any system of annoyance, and was prone
+to forget to-day the eternal truths she had propounded for reverence
+yesterday.
+
+I am not sure that she conciliated--I am not sure that she would have
+cared for--much personal attachment; but she had what certainly she
+did like, a large following of very devoted supporters. All her little
+social triumphs--and occasionally she had such--were blazoned abroad by
+those people who loved to dwell on the courtly attentions bestowed
+upon their favorite, what distinguished person had taken her "down" to
+dinner, and the neat compliment that the Viceroy paid her on the taste
+of her "tabinet."
+
+It need scarcely be remarked that the backwater of all this admiration
+for Lady Lendrick was a swamping tide of ill-favor for her husband. It
+would have been hard to deny him ability and talent. But what had he
+made of his ability and talent? The best lawyer of the bar was not even
+Chief-Justice of the Queen's Bench. The greatest speaker and scholar of
+his day was unknown, except in the reminiscences of a few men almost
+as old as himself. Was the fault in himself, or was the disqualifying
+element of his nature the fact of being an Irishman? For a number of
+years the former theory satisfied all the phenomena of the case, and
+the restless, impatient disposition--irritable, uncertain, and almost
+irresponsible--seemed reason enough to deter the various English
+officials who came over from either seeking the counsels or following
+the suggestions of the bold Baron of the Exchequer. A change, however,
+had come, in pail; induced by certain disparaging articles of the
+English press as to the comparative ability of the two countries; and
+now it became the fashion to say that had Sir William been born on
+the sunnier side of St. George's Channel, and had his triumphs been
+displayed at Westminster instead of the Four Courts, there would have
+been no limit to the praise of his ability as a lawyer, nor any delay in
+according him the highest honors the Crown could bestow.
+
+Men shook their heads, recalled the memorable "curse" recorded by Swift,
+and said, "Of course there is no favor for an Irishman." It is not the
+place nor the time to discuss this matter here. I would only say that
+a good deal of the misconception which prevails upon it is owing to the
+fact that the qualities which win all the suffrages of one country are
+held cheaply enough in the other. Plodding unadorned ability, even of
+a high order, meets little favor in Ireland, while on the other side
+of the Channel Irish quickness is accounted as levity, and the rapid
+appreciation of a question without the detail of long labor and thought,
+is set down as the lucky hit of a lively but very idle intelligence.
+I will not let myself wander away further in this digression, but come
+back to my story. Connected with this theory of Irish depreciation, was
+the position that but for the land of his birth Sir William would have
+been elevated to the peerage.
+
+Of course it was a subject to admit of various modes of telling,
+according to the tastes, the opportunities, and the prejudices of the
+tellers. The popular version of the story, however, was this: that Sir
+William declined to press a claim that could not have been resisted,
+on account of the peculiarly retiring, unambitious character of him
+who should be his immediate successor. His very profession--adopted
+and persisted in, in despite of his father's wish--was a palpable
+renunciation of all desire for hereditary honor. As the old Judge said,
+"The _Libro d, Oro_ of nobility is not the Pharmacopoeia;" and the
+thought of a doctor in the peerage might have cost "Garter" a fit of
+apoplexy.
+
+Sir William knew this well,--no man better; but the very difficulties
+gave all the zest and all the flavor to the pursuit. He lived, too, in
+the hope that some Government official might have bethought him of this
+objection, that he might spring on him, tiger-like, and tear him in
+fragments.
+
+"Let them but tell me this," muttered he, "and I will rip up the whole
+woof, thread by thread, and trace them! The noble duke whose ancestor
+was a Dutch pedler, the illustrious marquess whose great-grandfather was
+a smuggler, will have to look to it. Before this cause be called on I
+would say to them, better to retain me for the Crown! Ay, sirs, such is
+my advice to you."
+
+While these thoughts agitated Sir William's mind, the matter of them
+was giving grave and deep preoccupation to the Viceroy. The Cabinet had
+repeatedly pressed upon him the necessity of obtaining the Chief Baron's
+retirement from the bench,--a measure the more imperative that while
+they wanted to provide for an old adherent, they were equally anxious to
+replace him in the House by an abler and readier debater; for so is it,
+when dulness stops the way, dulness must be promoted,--just as the most
+tumble-down old hackney-coach must pass on before my Lord's carriage can
+draw up.
+
+"Pemberton must go up," said the Viceroy. "He made a horrid mess of that
+explanation t' other night in the House. His law was laughed at, and
+his logic was worse; he really must go on the bench. Can't you hit upon
+something, Balfour? Can you devise nothing respecting the Chief Baron?"
+
+"He 'll take nothing but what you won't give him; I hear he insists on
+the peerage."
+
+"I'd give it, I declare,--I 'd give it to-morrow. As I told the Premier
+t' other day, Providence always takes care that these law lords have
+rarely successors. They are life peerages and no more; besides, what
+does it matter a man more or less in 'the Lords'? The peer without
+hereditary rank and fortune is like the officer who has been raised from
+the ranks,--he does not dine at mess oftener than he can help it."
+
+Balfour applauded the illustration, and resolved to use it as his own.
+
+"I say again," continued his Excellency, "I'd give it, but they won't
+agree with me; they are afraid of the English bar,--they dread what the
+benchers of Lincoln's Inn would say."
+
+"They'd only say it for a week or two," mumbled Balfour.
+
+"So I remarked: you'll have discontent, but it will be passing. Some
+newspaper letters will appear, but Themis and Aristides will soon tire,
+and if they should not, the world who reads them will tire; and probably
+the only man who will remember the event three months after will be the
+silversmith who is cresting the covered dishes of the new creation. You
+think you can't go and see him, Balfour?"
+
+"Impossible, my Lord, after what occurred between us the last time."
+
+"I don't take it in that way. I suspect he 'll not bear any malice.
+Lawyers are not thin-skinned people; they give and take such hard knocks
+that they lose that nice sense of injury other folks are endowed with. I
+think you might go."
+
+"I 'd rather not, my Lord," said he, shaking his head.
+
+"Try his wife, then."
+
+"They don't live together. I don't know if they're on speaking terms."
+
+"So much the better,--she'll know every chink of his armor, and perhaps
+tell us where he is vulnerable. Wait a moment. There has been some talk
+of a picnic on Dalkey Island. It was to be a mere household affair. What
+if you were to invite her?--making of course the explanation that it was
+a family party, that no cards had been sent out; in fact, that it was to
+be so close a thing the world was never to hear of it."
+
+"I think the bait would be irresistible, particularly when she found out
+that all her own set and dear friends had been passed over."
+
+"Charge her to secrecy,--of course she'll not keep her word."
+
+"May I say we 'll come for her? The great mystery will be so perfectly
+in keeping with one of the household carriages and your Excellency's
+liveries."
+
+"Won't that be too strong, Balfour?" said the Viceroy, laughing.
+
+"Nothing is too strong, my Lord, in this country. They take their
+blunders neat as they do their sherry, and I'm sure that this part of
+the arrangement will, in the gossip it will give rise to, be about the
+best of the whole exploit."
+
+"Take your own way, then; only make no such mistake as you made with
+the husband. No documents, Balfour,--no documents, I beg;" and with
+this warning laughingly given, but by no means so pleasantly taken, his
+Excellency went off and left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII. MR. BALFOUR'S MISSION
+
+Lady Lendrick was dictating to her secretary, Miss Morse, the Annual
+Report of the "Benevolent Ballad-Singers' Aid Society," when her servant
+announced the arrival of Mr. Cholmondely Balfour. She stopped abruptly
+short at a pathetic bit of description,--"The aged minstrel, too old
+for erotic poetry, and yet debarred by the stern rules of a repressive
+policy from the strains of patriotic song,"--for, be it said
+parenthetically, Lady Lendrick affected "Irishry" to a large
+extent,--and, dismissing Miss Morse to an adjoining room, she desired
+the servant to introduce Mr. Balfour.
+
+Is it fancy, or am I right in supposing that English officials have a
+manner specially assumed for Ireland and the Irish,--a thing like the
+fur cloak a man wears in Russia, or the snowshoes he puts on in Lapland,
+not intended for other latitudes, but admirably adapted for the locality
+it is made for? I will not insist that this theory of mine is faultless,
+but I appeal to a candid public of my own countrmen if they have not
+in their experience seen what may support it. I do not say it is a bad
+manner,--a presuming manner,--a manner of depreciation towards these it
+is used to, or a manner indicative of indifference in him who uses it. I
+simply say that they who employ it keep it as especially for Ireland as
+they keep their macintosh capes for wet weather, and would no more think
+of displaying it in England than they would go to her Majesty's levee in
+a shooting-jacket. Mr. Balfour was not wanting in this manner. Indeed,
+the Administration of which he formed a humble part were all proficients
+in it. It was a something between a mock homage and a very jocular
+familiarity, so that when he arose after a bow, deep and reverential
+enough for the presence of majesty, he lounged over to a chair and threw
+himself down with the ease and unconcern of one perfectly at home.
+
+"And how is my Lady? and how are the fourscore and one associations for
+turnkeys' widows and dog-stealers' orphans doing? What 's the last new
+thing in benevolence? Do tell me, for I 've won five shillings at loo,
+and want to invest it."
+
+"You mean you have drawn your quarter's salary, Mr. Balfour."
+
+"No, by Jove; they don't pay us so liberally. We have the run of our
+teeth and no more."
+
+"You forget your tongue, sir; you are unjust."
+
+"Why, my Lady, you are as quick as Sir William himself; living with that
+great wit has made you positively dangerous."
+
+"I have not enjoyed over-much of the opportunity you speak of."
+
+"Yes, I know that; no fault of yours, though. The world is agreed on
+that point. I take it he's about the most impossible man to live with
+the age has yet produced. Sewell has told me such things of him!--things
+that would be incredible if I had not seen him."
+
+"I beg pardon for interrupting, but of course you have not come to
+dilate on the Chief Baron's defects of temper to his wife."
+
+"No, only incidentally,--parenthetically, as one may say,--just as one
+knocks over a hare when he's out partridge-shooting."
+
+"Never mind the hare, then, sir; keep to your partridges."
+
+"My partridges! my partridges! which are my partridges? Oh, to be sure!
+I want to talk to you about Sewell. He has told you perhaps how ill we
+have behaved to him,--grossly, shamefully ill, I call it."
+
+"He has told me that the Government object to his having this
+appointment, but he has not explained on what ground."
+
+"Neither can I. Official life has its mysteries, and, hate them as one
+may, they must be respected; he ought n't to have sold out,--it was
+rank folly to sell out. What could he have in the world better than
+a continued succession of young fellows fresh from home, and knowing
+positively nothing of horse-flesh or billiards?"
+
+"I don't understand you, sir,--that is, I hope I misunderstand you,"
+said she, haughtily.
+
+"I mean simply this, that I'd rather be a lieutenant-colonel with such
+opportunities than I 'd be Chairman of the Great Overland."
+
+"Opportunities--and for what?"
+
+"For everything,--for everything; for game off the balls, on every race
+in the kingdom, and as snug a thing every night over a devilled kidney
+as any man could wish for. Don't look shocked,--it's all on the square;
+that old hag that was here last week would have given her diamond
+ear-rings to find out something against Sewell, and she could n't."
+
+"You mean Lady Trafford?"
+
+"I do. She stayed a week here just to blacken his character, and she
+never could get beyond that story of her son and Mrs. Sewell."
+
+"What story? I never heard of it."
+
+"A lie, of course, from beginning to end; and it's hard to imagine that
+she herself believed it."
+
+"But what was it?"
+
+"Oh, a trumpery tale of young Trafford having made love to Mrs. Sewell,
+and proposed to run off with her, and Sewell having played a game at
+�cart� on it, and lost,--the whole thing being knocked up by Trafford's
+fall. But you must have heard it! The town talked of nothing else for a
+fortnight."
+
+"The town never had the insolence to talk of it to _me_."
+
+"What a stupid town! If there be anything really that can be said to be
+established in the code of society, it is that you may say anything
+to anybody about their relations. But for such a rule how could
+conversation go on?--who travels about with his friend's family-tree
+in his pocket? And as to Sewell,--I suppose I may say it,--he has not a
+truer friend in the world than myself."
+
+She bowed a very stiff acknowledgment of the speech, and he went on: "I
+'m not going to say he gets on well with his wife,--but who does? Did
+you ever hear of him who did? The fact I take to be this, that every one
+has a certain capital of good-nature and kindliness to trade on, and he
+who expends this abroad can't have so much of it for home consumption;
+that's how your insufferable husbands are such charming fellows for the
+world! Don't you agree with me?"
+
+A very chilling smile, that might mean anything, was all her reply.
+
+"I was there all the time," continued he, with unabated fluency. "I
+saw everything that went on: Sewell's policy was what our people call
+non-intervention; he saw nothing, heard nothing, believed nothing; and
+I will say there 's a great deal of dignity in that line; and when your
+servant comes to wake you in the morning, with the tidings that your
+wife has run away, you have established a right before the world to be
+distracted, injured, overwhelmed, and outraged to any extent you may
+feel disposed to appear."
+
+"Your thoughts upon morals are, I must say, very edifying, sir."
+
+"They 're always practical, so much I will say. This world is a
+composite sort of thing, with such currents of mixed motives running
+through it, if a man tries to be logical he is sure to make an ass of
+himself, and one learns at last to become as flexible in his opinions
+and as elastic as the great British constitution.
+
+"I am delighted with your liberality, sir, and charmed with your candor;
+and as you have expressed your opinion so freely upon my husband and my
+son, would it appear too great a favor if I were to ask what you would
+say of myself?"
+
+"That you are charming, Lady Lendrick,--positively charming,"
+replied he, rapturously. "That there is not a grace of manner, nor
+a captivation, of which you are not mistress; that you possess that
+attraction which excels all others in its influence; you render all who
+come within the sphere of your fascination so much your slaves that the
+cold grow enthusiastic, the distrustful become credulous, and even
+the cautious reserve of office gives way, and the well-trained private
+secretary of a Viceroy betrays himself into indiscretions that would
+half ruin an aide-de-camp."
+
+"I assure you, sir, I never so much as suspected my own powers."
+
+"True as I am here; the simple fact is, I have come to say so."
+
+"You have come to say so! What do you mean?"
+
+With this he proceeded to explain that her Excellency had deputed him
+to invite Lady Lendrick to join the picnic on the island. "It was
+so completely a home party, that, except himself and a few of the
+household, none had even heard of it. None but those really intimate
+will be there," said he; "and for once in our lives we shall be able
+to discuss our absent friends with that charming candor that gives
+conversation its salt. When we had written down all the names, it was
+her Excellency said, 'I 'd call this perfect if I could add one more to
+the list.' 'I'll swear I know whom you mean,' said his Excellency; and
+he took his pencil and wrote a line on a card. 'Am I right?' asked he.
+She nodded, and said, 'Balfour, go and ask her to come. Be sure you
+explain what the whole thing is, how it was got up, and that it must not
+be talked of.' Of course, do what one will, these things do get about.
+Servants will talk of them, and tradespeople talk of them, and we must
+expect a fair share of ill-nature and malice from that outer world which
+was not included in the civility; but it can't be helped. I believe it's
+one of the conditions of humanity, that to make one man happy you may
+always calculate on making ten others miserable."
+
+This time Lady Lendrick had something else to think of besides Mr.
+Balfour's ethics, and so she only smiled and said nothing.
+
+"I hope I 'm to bring back a favorable answer," said he, rising to take
+leave. "Won't you let me say that we 're to call for you?"
+
+"I really am much flattered. I don't know how to express my grateful
+sense of their Excellencies' recollection of me. It is for Wednesday,
+you say?"
+
+"Yes, Wednesday. We mean to leave town by two o'clock, and there will be
+a carriage here for you by that hour. Will that suit you?"
+
+"Perfectly."
+
+"I am overjoyed at my success. Good-bye till Wednesday, then." He moved
+towards the door, and then stopped. "What was it? I surely had something
+else to say. Oh, to be sure, I remember. Tell me, if you can, what are
+Sir William's views about retirement: he is not quite pleased with us
+just now, and we can't well approach him; but we really would wish to
+meet his wishes, if we could manage to come at them." All this he said
+in a sort of careless, easy way, as though it were a matter of little
+moment, or one calling for very slight exercise of skill to set right.
+
+"And do you imagine he has taken me into his confidence, Mr. Balfour?"
+asked she, with a smile.
+
+"Not formally, perhaps,--not what we call officially; but he may have
+done so in that more effective way termed 'officiously.'"
+
+"Not even that. I could probably make as good a guess about your own
+future intentions as those of the Chief Baron."
+
+"You have heard him talk of them?"
+
+"Scores of times."
+
+"And in what tone,--with what drift?"
+
+"Always as that of one very ill-used, hardly treated, undervalued, and
+the like."
+
+"And the remedy? What was the remedy?"
+
+"To make him a peer,--at least, so his friends say."
+
+"But taking that to be impossible, what next?"
+
+"He becomes 'impossible' also," said she, laughing.
+
+"Are we to imagine that a man of such intelligence as he possesses
+cannot concede something to circumstances,--cannot make allowances for
+the exigencies of 'party,'--cannot, in fact, take any other view of a
+difficulty but the one that must respond to his own will?"
+
+"Yes; I think that is exactly what you are called on to imagine. You
+are to persuade yourself to regard this earth as inhabited by the Chief
+Baron, and some other people not mentioned specifically in the census."
+
+"He is most unreasonable, then."
+
+"Of course he is; but I wouldn't have you tell him so. You see, Mr.
+Balfour, the Chief imagines all this while that he is maintaining and
+upholding the privileges of the Irish Bar. The burden of his song is,
+'There would have been no objection to my claim had I been the Chief
+Baron of the English Court.'"
+
+"Possibly," murmured Balfour; and then, lower again, "Fleas are not--"
+
+"Quite true," said she, for her quick ear caught his words,--"quite
+true. Fleas are not lobsters,--bless their souls! But, as I said before,
+I 'd not remind them of that fact. 'The Fleas' are just sore enough upon
+it already."
+
+Balfour for once felt some confusion. He saw what a slip he had made,
+and now it had damaged his whole negotiation. Nothing but boldness would
+avail now, and he resolved to be bold.
+
+"There is a thing has been done in England, and I don't see why we might
+not attempt it in the present case. A great lawyer there obtained a
+peerage for his wife--"
+
+She burst out into a fit of laughter at this, at once so hearty and so
+natural that at last he could not help joining, and laughing too.
+
+"I must say, Mr. Balfour," said she, as soon as she could speak,--"I
+must say there is ingenuity in your suggestion. The relations that
+subsist between Sir William and myself are precisely such as to
+recommend your project."
+
+"I am not so sure that they are obstacles to it. I have always heard
+that he had a poor opinion of his son, who was a common-place sort of
+man that studied medicine. It could be no part of the Chief Baron's plan
+to make such a person the head of a house. Now, he likes Sewell, and he
+dotes on that boy,--the little fellow I saw at the Priory. These are all
+elements in the scheme. Don't you think so?"
+
+"Let me ask you one question before I answer yours: Does this thought
+come from yourself alone, or has it any origin in another quarter?"
+
+"Am I to be candid?"
+
+"You are."
+
+"And are _you_ to be confidential?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"In that case," said he, drawing a long breath, as though about to
+remove a perilous weight off his mind, "I will tell you frankly, it
+comes from authority. Now, don't ask me more,--not another question. I
+have already avowed what my instructions most imperatively forbid me
+to own,--what, in fact, would be ruin to me if it were known that I
+revealed. What his Excellency--I mean, what the other person said
+was, 'Ascertain Lady Lendrick's wishes on this subject; learn, if you
+can,--but, above all, without compromising yourself,--whether she really
+cares for a step in rank; find out, if so, what aid she can or will lend
+us.' But what am I saying? Here am I entering upon the whole detail?
+What would become of me if I did not know I might rely upon you?"
+
+"It's worth thinking over," said she, after a pause.
+
+"I should think it is. It is not every day of our lives such a brilliant
+offer presents itself. All I ask, all I stipulate for, is that you make
+no confidences, ask no advice from any quarter. Think it well over in
+your own mind, but impart it to none, least of all to Sewell."
+
+"Of course not to _him_," said she, resolutely, for she knew well to
+what purposes he would apply the knowledge.
+
+"Remember that we want to have the resignation before Parliament
+meets,--bear that in mind. Time is all-important with us; the rest will
+follow in due course." With this he said "Good-bye," and was gone.
+
+"The rest will follow in due course," said she to herself, repeating his
+last words as he went. "With your good leave, Mr. Balfour, the 'rest'
+shall precede the beginning."
+
+Was n't it Bolingbroke that said constitutional government never could
+go on without lying,--audacious lying too? If the old Judge will only
+consent to go, her Ladyship's peerage will admit of a compromise. Such
+was Mr. Balfour's meditation as he stepped into his cab.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV. AFTER-DINNER THOUGHTS
+
+Her Majesty's--th had got their orders for Malta, and some surmised
+for India, though it was not yet known; but all agreed it was
+hard,--"confoundedly hard," they called it. "Had n't they had their turn
+of Inidan service?--how many years had that grim old major passed in the
+Deccan,--what weary winters had the bronzed bald captain there spent at
+Rangoon!"
+
+How they inveighed against the national niggardliness that insisted on
+making a small army do the work of a large one! How they scouted the
+popular idea that regiments were treated alike and without favoritism!
+_They_ knew better. They knew that if they had been the Nine Hundred and
+Ninth, or Three Thousand and First, there would have been no thought of
+sending them back to cholera and jungle fever. Some, with a little sly
+flattery, ascribed the order to their efficiency, and declared that they
+had done their work so well at Gonurshabad, the Government selected them
+at once when fresh troubles were threatening; and a few old grumblers,
+tired of service, sick of the Horse Guards,--not over-enamored of
+even life,--agreed that it was rank folly to join a regiment where the
+Lieutenant-Colonel was not a man of high connections; as they said, "If
+old Cave there had been a Lord George or even an Honorable, we 'd have
+had ten years more of home service."
+
+With the exception of two or three raw subalterns who had never been out
+of England, and who wanted the glory of pig-sticking and the brevet
+to tell tiger stories, there were gloom and depression everywhere. The
+financially gifted complained that as they had all or nearly all
+bought their commissions, there was no comparison between the treatment
+administered to them and to officers in any foreign army; and such as
+knew geography asked triumphantly whether a Frenchman, who could be only
+sent to Africa, or an Austrian, whose most remote banishment was the
+"Banat," was in the same position as an unfortunate Briton, who could be
+despatched to patrol the North Pole to-day, and to-morrow relieve guard
+at New Zealand? By a unanimous vote it was carried that the English
+army was the worst paid, hardest worked, and most ill-treated service in
+Europe; but the roast-beef played just at the moment, and they went in
+to dinner.
+
+As the last bars of that prandial melody were dying away, two men
+crossed the barrack-yard towards the mess-house. They were in close
+confabulation, and although evidently on their way to dinner, showed by
+their loitering pace how much more engrossed they were by the subject
+that engaged them than by any desire for the pleasures of the table.
+They were Colonel Cave and Sewell.
+
+"I can scarcely picture to my mind as great a fool as that," said
+Sewell, angrily. "Can you?"
+
+"I don't know," said Cave, slowly and doubtingly. "First of all, I never
+was heir to a large estate; and, secondly, I was never, that I remember,
+in love."
+
+"In love! in fiddlestick. Why, he has not seen the girl this year and
+half; he scarcely knows her. I doubt greatly if she cares a straw for
+him; and for a caprice--a mere caprice--to surrender his right to a fine
+fortune and a good position is absolute idiocy; but I tell you more,
+Cave, though worse--far worse." Here his voice grew harsh and grating,
+as he continued: "When I and other men like me played with Trafford, we
+betted with the man who was to inherit Holt. When I asked the fellow to
+my house, and suffered a certain intimacy--for I never liked him--it was
+because he represented twelve thousand a year in broad acres. I 'd
+stand a good deal from a man like that, that I 'd soon pull another up
+for,--eh?"
+
+The interrogative here puzzled Cave, who certainly was not a concurring
+party to the sentiment, and yet did not want to make it matter of
+discussion.
+
+"We shall be late,--we've lost our soup already," said he, moving more
+briskly forward.
+
+"I 'd no more have let that fellow take on him, as he did under my roof,
+than I 'd sufifer him to kennel his dogs in my dressing-room. You
+don't know--you can't know--how he behaved." These words were spoken in
+passionate warmth, and still there was that in the speaker's manner that
+showed a want of real earnestness; so it certainly seemed to Cave, who
+secretly determined to give no encouragement to further disclosures.
+
+"There are things," resumed Sewell, "that a man can't speak on,--at
+least, he can only speak of them when they become the talk of the town."
+
+"Come along, I want my dinner. I'm not sure I have not a guest, besides,
+who does not know any of our fellows. I only remembered him this
+instant. Is n't this Saturday?"
+
+"One thing I 'll swear,--he shall pay me every shilling he owes me, or
+he does not sail with the regiment. I 'll stand no nonsense of renewals;
+if he has to sell out for it, he shall book up. You have told him, I
+hope, he has nothing to expect from my forbearance?"
+
+"We can talk this all over another time. Come along now,--we 're very
+late."
+
+"Go on, then, and eat your dinner; leave me to my cigar--I 've no
+appetite. I 'll drop in when you have dined."
+
+"No, no; you shall come too,--your absence will only make fellows talk;
+they are talking already."
+
+"Are they? and in what way?" asked he, sternly.
+
+"Nothing seriously, of course," mumbled Cave, for he saw how he had
+fallen into an indiscretion; "but you must come, and you must be
+yourself too. It's the only way to meet flying rumors."
+
+"Come along, then," said Sewell, passing his arm within the other's; and
+they hurried forward without another word being spoken by either.
+
+It was evident that Sewell's appearance caused some surprise. There was
+a certain awkward significance in the way men looked at him and at each
+other that implied astonishment at his presence.
+
+"I didn't know you were down here," said the old Major, making an
+involuntary explanation of his look of wonderment.
+
+"Nothing very remarkable, I take it, that a man is stopping at his own
+house," said Se well, testily. "No--no fish. Get me some mutton," added
+he to the mess-waiter.
+
+"You have heard that we 've got our orders," said a captain opposite
+him.
+
+"Yes; Cave told me."
+
+"I rather like it,--that is, if it means India," said a very
+young-looking ensign.
+
+Sewell put up his eye-glass and looked at the speaker, and then, letting
+it drop, went on with his dinner without a word.
+
+"There 's no man can tell you more about Bengal than Colonel Sewell
+there," said Cave, to some one near him. "He served on the staff there,
+and knows every corner of it."
+
+"I wish I did n't, with all my heart. It's a sort of knowledge that
+costs a man pretty dearly."
+
+"I 've always been told India was a capital place," said a gay,
+frank-looking young lieutenant, "and that if a man did n't drink, or
+take to high play, he could get on admirably."
+
+"Nor entangle himself with a pretty woman," added another.
+
+"Nor raise a smashing loan from the Agra Bank," cried a third.
+
+"You are the very wisest young gentlemen it has ever been my privilege
+to sit down with," said Sewell, with a grin. "Whence could you have
+gleaned all these prudent maxims?"
+
+"I got mine," said the Lieutenant, "from a cousin. Such a good fellow
+as he was! He always tipped me when I was at Sandhurst, but he's past
+tipping any one now."
+
+"Dead?"
+
+"No; I believe it would be better he were; but he was ruined
+in India,--'let in' on a race, and lost everything, even to his
+commission."
+
+"Was his name Stanley?"
+
+"No, Stapyleton,--Frank Stapyleton,--he was in the Grays."
+
+"Sewell, what are you drinking?" cried Cave, with a loudness that
+overbore the talk around him. "I can't see you down there. You 've got
+amongst the youngsters."
+
+"I am in the midst of all that is agreeable and entertaining," said
+Sewell, with a smile of most malicious meaning. "Talk of youngsters,
+indeed! I'd like to hear where you could match them for knowledge of
+life and mankind."
+
+There was certainly nothing in his look or manner as he spoke these
+words that suggested distrust or suspicion to those around him, for they
+seemed overjoyed at his praise, and delighted to hear themselves called
+men of the world. The grim old Major at the opposite side of the table
+shook his head thoughtfully, and muttered some words to himself.
+
+"They 're a shady lot, I take it," said a young captain to his neighbor,
+"those fellows who remain in India, and never come home; either they
+have done something they can't meet in England, or they want to do
+things in India they couldn't do here."
+
+"There's great truth in that remark," said Sewell. "Captain Neeves, let
+us have a glass of wine together. I have myself seen a great deal to
+bear out your observation."
+
+Neeves colored with pleasure at this approval, and went on: "I heard of
+one fellow--I forget his name--I never remember names; but he had a very
+pretty wife, and all the fellows used to make up to her, and pay her
+immense attention, and the husband rooked them all at �cart�, every man
+of them."
+
+"What a scoundrel!" said Sewell, with energy. "You ought to have
+preserved the name, if only for a warning."
+
+"I think I can get it, Colonel. I 'll try and obtain it for you."
+
+"Was it Moorcroft?" cried one.
+
+"Or Massingbred?" asked another.
+
+"I'll wager a sovereign it was Dudgeon; wasn't it Dudgeon?"
+
+But no; it was none of the three. Still, the suggestions opened a whole
+chapter of biographical details, in which each of these worthies vied
+with the other. No man ever listened to the various anecdotes narrated
+with a more eager interest than Sewell. Now and then, indeed, a slight
+incredulity--a sort of puzzled astonishment that the world could be so
+very wicked, that there really were such fellows--would seem to distract
+him; but he listened on, and even occasionally asked an explanation
+of this or of that, to show the extreme attention he vouchsafed to the
+theme.
+
+To be sure, their attempts to describe the way some trick was played
+with the cards or the dice, how the horse was "nobbled" or the match
+"squared," were neither very remarkable for accuracy nor clearness. They
+had not been well "briefed," as lawyers say, or they had not mastered
+their instructions. Sewell, however, was no captious critic; he took
+what he got, and was thankful.
+
+When they arose from the table, the old Major, dropping behind the line
+of those who lounged into the adjoining room, caught a young officer by
+the arm, and whispered some few words in his ear.
+
+"What a scrape I 'm in!" cried the young fellow as he listened.
+
+"I think not, this time; but let it be a caution to you how you talk of
+rumors in presence of men who are strangers to you."
+
+"I say, Major," asked a young captain, coming up hurriedly, "isn't that
+Sewell the man of the Agra affair?"
+
+"I don't think I 'd ask him about it, that's all," said the Major,
+slyly, and moved away.
+
+"I got amongst a capital lot of young fellows at my end of the
+table--second battalion men, I think,--who were all new to me, but very
+agreeable," said Sewell to Cave, as he sipped his coffee.
+
+"You'd like your rubber, Sewell, I know," said Cave; "let us see if we
+haven't got some good players."
+
+"Not to-night,--thanks,--I promised my wife to be home early; one of the
+chicks is poorly."
+
+"I want so much to have a game with Colonel Sewell," said a young
+fellow. "They told me up at Delhi that you hadn't your equal at whist or
+billiards."
+
+Sewell's pale face grew flushed; but though he smiled and bowed, it
+was not difficult to see that his manner evinced more irritation than
+pleasure.
+
+"I say," said another, who sat shuffling the cards by himself at a
+table, "who knows that trick about the double ace in picquet? That was
+the way Beresford was rooked at Madras."
+
+"I must say good-night," said Sewell; "it's a long drive to the Nest You
+'ll come over to breakfast some morning before you leave, won't you?"
+
+"I 'll do my best. At all events, I 'll pay my respects to Mrs. Sewell;"
+and with a good deal of hand-shaking and some cordial speeches Sewell
+took his leave and retired.
+
+Had any one marked the pace at which Sewell drove home that night, black
+and dark as it was, he would have said, "There goes one on some errand
+of life or death." There was something of recklessness in the way
+he pushed his strong-boned thoroughbred, urging him up hill and down
+without check or relief, nor slackening rein till he drew up at his own
+door, the panting beast making the buggy tremble with the violent action
+of his respiration. Low muttering to himself, the groom led the beast
+to the stable, and Sewell passed up the stairs to the small drawing-room
+where his wife usually sat.
+
+She was reading as he entered; a little table with a tea equipage at
+her side. She did not raise her eyes from her book when he came in; but
+whether his footstep on the stair had its meaning to her quick ears
+or not, a slight flush quivered on her cheek, and her mouth trembled
+faintly.
+
+"Shall I give you some tea?" asked she, as he threw himself into a seat.
+He made no answer, and she laid down her book, and sat still and silent.
+
+"Was your dinner pleasant?" said she, after a pause.
+
+"How could it be other than pleasant, Madam," said he, fiercely, "when
+they talked so much of _you?_"
+
+"Of _me?_--talked of _me?_"
+
+"Just so; there were a set of young fellows who had just joined from
+another battalion, and who discoursed of you, of your life in India, of
+your voyage home, and lastly of some incidents that were attributed to
+your sojourn here. To me it was perfectly delightful. I had my opinion
+asked over and over again, if I thought that such a levity was so
+perfectly harmless, and such another liberty was the soul of innocence?
+In a word, Madam, I enjoyed the privilege, very rarely accorded to a
+husband, I fancy, to sit in judgment over his own wife, and say what he
+thought of her conduct."
+
+"Was there no one to tell these gentlemen to whom they were speaking?"
+said she, with a subdued, quiet tone.
+
+"No; I came in late and took my place amongst men all strangers to me. I
+assure you I profited largely by the incident. It is so seldom one gets
+public opinion in its undiluted form, it 's quite refreshing to taste
+it neat. Of course they were not always correct. I could have set them
+right on many points. They had got a totally wrong version of what they
+called the 'Agra row,' though one of the party said he was Beresford's
+cousin."
+
+She grasped the table convulsively to steady herself, and in so doing
+threw it down, and the whole tea equipage with it.
+
+"Yes," continued he, as though responding to this evidence of emotion on
+her part,--"yes; it pushed one's patience pretty hard to be obliged to
+sit under such criticism."
+
+"And what obliged you, sir? was it fear?"
+
+"Yes, Madam, you have guessed it. I was afraid--terribly afraid to own I
+was your husband."
+
+A low faint groan was all she uttered, as she covered her face with her
+hands. "I had next," continued he, "to listen to a dispute as to whether
+Trafford had ever seriously offered to run away with you or not. It was
+almost put to the vote. Faith, I believe my casting voice might have
+carried the thing either way if I had only known how to give it." She
+murmured something too low to be heard correctly, but he caught at
+part of it, and said: "Well, that was pretty much what I suspected. The
+debate was, however, adjourned; and as Cave called me by my name at the
+moment, the confidences came to an abrupt conclusion. As I foresaw that
+these youngsters, ignorant of life and manners as they were, would be at
+once for making apologetic speeches and such-like, I stole away and
+came home, _more domestico_, to ruminate over my enjoyments at my own
+fireside."
+
+"I trust, sir, they were strangers to your own delinquencies. I hope
+they had no unpleasant reminders to give you of yourself."
+
+"Pardon, Madam. They related several of what you pleasantly call my
+delinquencies, but they only came in as the by-play of the scene where
+you were the great character. We figured as brigands. It was _you_
+always who stunned the victim; _I_ only rifled his pockets--fact, I
+assure you. I'm sorry that china is smashed. It was Saxe,--wasn't it?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"And a present of Trafford's too! What a pity! I declare I believe
+we shall not have a single relic of the dear fellow, except it be a
+protested bill or two." He paused a moment or so, and then said, "Do you
+know, it just strikes me that if they saw how ill--how shamefully you
+played your cards in this Trafford affair, they 'd actually absolve you
+of all the Circe gifts the world ascribes to you."
+
+She fixed her eyes steadfastly on him, and as her clasped hands dropped
+on her knees, she leaned forward and said: "What do you mean by it? What
+do you want by this? If these men, whose insolent taunts you had not
+courage to arrest or to resent, say truly, whose the fault? Ay, sir,
+whose the fault? Answer me, if you dare, and say, was not my shame
+incurred to cover and conceal _yours?_"
+
+"Your tragedy-queen airs have no effect upon me. I 've been too long
+behind the scenes to be frightened by stage thunder. What is past
+is past. You married a gambler; and if you shared his good luck, you
+oughtn't to grumble at partaking his bad fortune. If you had been tired
+of the yoke, I take it you 'd have thrown it behind you many a day ago."
+
+"If I had not done so, you know well why," said she, fiercely.
+
+"The old story, I suppose,--the dear darlings upstairs. Well, I can't
+discuss what I know nothing about. I can only promise you that such ties
+would never bind _me_."
+
+"I ask you once again what you mean by this?" cried she, as her lips
+trembled and her pale cheeks shook with agitation. "What does it point
+to? What am I to do? What am I to be?"
+
+"That's the puzzle," said he, with an insolent levity; "and I 'll be
+shot if I can solve it! Sometimes I think we 'd do better to renounce
+the partnership, and try what we could do alone; and sometimes I
+suspect--it sounds odd, does n't it?--but I suspect that we need each
+other."
+
+She had by this time buried her face between her hands, and by the
+convulsive motion of her shoulders, showed she was weeping bitterly.
+
+"One thing is certainly clear," said he, rising, and standing with his
+back to the fire,--"if we decide to part company, we have n't the means.
+If either of us would desert the ship, there 's no boat left to do it
+with."
+
+She arose feebly from her chair, but sank down again, weak and overcome.
+
+"Shall I give you my arm?" asked he.
+
+"No; send Jane to me," said she, in a voice barely above a whisper.
+
+He rang the bell, and said, "Tell Jane her mistress wants her;" and with
+this he searched for a book on the table, found it, and strolled off to
+his room, humming an air as he went.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV. THE TIDELESS SHORES
+
+They who only know the shores of the Mediterranean in the winter months,
+and have but enjoyed the contrast--and what a contrast!--between our
+inky skies and rain-charged atmosphere with that glorious expanse of
+blue heaven and that air of exciting elasticity,--they, I say, can still
+have no conception of the real ecstasy of life in a southern climate
+till they have experienced a summer beside the tideless sea.
+
+Nothing is more striking in these regions than the completeness of
+the change from day to night. It is not alone the rapidity with which
+darkness succeeds,--and in this our delicious twilight is ever to be
+regretted; what I speak of is the marvellous transition from the world
+of sights and sounds to the world of unbroken silence and dimness. In
+the day the whole air rings with life. The flowers flaunt out their
+gorgeous petals, not timidly or reluctantly, but with the bold
+confidence of admitted beauty. The buds unfold beneath your very eyes,
+the rivulets sing in the clear air, and myriads of insects chirp till
+the atmosphere seems to be charged with vitality. This intense vitality
+is the striking characteristic of the scene; and it is to this that
+night succeeds, grand, solemn, and silent, at first to all seeming in
+unrelieved blackness, but soon to be displayed in a glorious expanse
+of darkest, deepest blue, with stars of surpassing size. To make this
+change more effective, too, it is instantaneous. It was but a moment
+back, and you were gazing on the mountain peaks bathed in an opal
+lustre, the cicala making the air vibrate with his song; a soft
+sea-breeze was blowing, and stirring the oranges amongst the leaves;
+and now all is dim and silent and breathless, as suddenly as though an
+enchanter's wand had waved and worked the miracle.
+
+In a little bay--rather a cleft in the shore than a bay--bounded by
+rocks and backed by a steep mountain overgrown with stunted olives,
+stood a small cottage,--so very small that it looked rather like a toy
+house than a human dwelling, a resemblance added to now as the windows
+lay wide open, and all the interior was a blaze of light from two lamps.
+All was still and silent within; no human being was to be seen, nor was
+there a sign of life about the place; for it was the only dwelling on
+the eastern shore of the island, and that island was Maddalena, off
+Sardinia.
+
+In a little nook among the rocks, close to the sea, sat Tom and Lucy
+Lendrick. They held hands, but were silent; for they had come down into
+the darkness to muse and ponder, and drink in the delicious tranquillity
+of that calm hour. Lucy had now been above a week on the island, and
+every day Tom made progress towards recovery. She knew exactly, and
+as none other knew, what amount of care and nursing he would accept of
+without resistance,--where companionship would gratify and where oppress
+him; she knew, besides, when to leave him to the full swing of his own
+wild discursive talk, and never to break in upon his moods of silent
+reflection.
+
+For upwards of half an hour they had sat thus without a word, when Tom,
+suddenly turning round, and looking towards the cottage, said, "Is n't
+this the very sort of thing we used to imagine and wish for long ago,
+Lucy?"
+
+"It was just what was passing through my mind. I was thinking how often
+we longed to have one of the islands on Lough Derg, and to go and live
+there all by ourselves."
+
+"We never dreamed of anything so luxurious as this, though. We knew
+nothing of limes and oranges, Lucy. We never fancied such a starry
+sky, or an air so loaded with perfume. I declare," cried he, with more
+energy, "it repays one for all the disappointment, to come and taste the
+luxury of such a night as this."
+
+"And what is the disappointment you speak of, Tom?"
+
+"I mean about our project-that blessed mine, by which we were to have
+amassed a fortune, and which has only yielded lead enough to shoot
+ourselves with."
+
+"I never suspected that," said she, with a sigh.
+
+"Of course you never did; nor am I in a great hurry to tell it even now.
+I'd not whisper it if Sir Brook were on the same island with us. Do you
+know, girl, that he resents a word against the mine as if it was a stain
+upon his own honour. For a while I used to catch up his enthusiasm, and
+think if we only go on steadily, if we simply persist, we are sure to
+succeed in the end. But when week after week rolled over, and not a
+trace of a mineral appeared when the very workmen said we were toiling
+in vain when I felt half-ashamed to meet the jeering questions of
+the neighbours, and used to skulk up to the shaft by the back way,--he
+remarked it, and said to me one morning, 'I am afraid, Tom, it is
+your sense of loyalty to me that keeps you here, and not your hope of
+success. Be frank, and tell me if this be so.' I blundered out something
+about my determination to share his fate, whatever it might be, and it
+would have been lucky if I had stopped there; but I went on to say that
+I thought the mine was an arrant delusion, and that the sooner we turned
+our backs on it, and addressed our energies to another quarter, the
+better. 'You think so?' said he, looking almost fiercely at me. 'I am
+certain of it,' said I, decisively; for I thought the moment had come
+when a word of truth could do him good service. He went out without
+speaking, and instead of going to Lavanna, where the mine is, he went
+over to Cagliari, and only came home late at night. The next morning,
+while we were taking our coffee before 'setting out, he said to me,
+'Don't strap on your knapsack to-day. I don't mean you should come down
+into the shaft again.' 'How so?' asked I; 'what have I said or done that
+could offend you?' 'Nothing, my dear boy,' said he, laying his hand on
+my shoulder; 'but I cannot bear you should meet this dreary life of toil
+without the one thing that can lighten its gloom--Hope. I have managed,
+therefore, to raise a small sum on the mine; for,' said he, with a sly
+laugh, 'there are men in Cagliari who don't take the despondent view
+you have taken of it; and I have written to my old friend at the Horse
+Guards to give you a commission, and you shall go and be a soldier.'
+And leave you here, sir, all alone?' 'Far from alone, lad. I have that
+companion which you tell me never joined _you_. I have Hope with _me_.'
+
+"'Then I'll stay too, sir, and try if he'll not give me his company yet.
+At all events, I shall have _yours_; and there is nothing I know that
+could recompense me for the loss of it.' It was not very easy to turn
+him from his plan, but I insisted so heartily-for I'd have stayed on
+now, if it were to have entailed a whole life of poverty-that he gave in
+at last; and from that hour to this, not a word of other than agreement
+has passed between us. For my own part, I began to work with a will,
+and a determination that I never felt before; and perhaps I overtaxed my
+strength, for I caught this fever by remaining till the heavy dews began
+to fall, and in this climate it is always a danger."
+
+"And the mine, Tom--did it grow better?" "Not a bit. I verily believe
+we never saw ore from that day. We got upon yellow clay, and lower down
+upon limestone rock, and then upon water; and we are pumping away yet,
+and old Sir Brook is just as much interested by the decrease of the
+water as if he saw a silver floor beneath it. 'We've got eight inches
+less this morning, Tom; we are doing famously now.' I declare to you,
+Lucy, when I saw his fine cheery look and bright honest eye, I thought
+how far better this man's fancies are than the hard facts of other
+people; and I'd rather have his great nature than all the wealth success
+could bring us."
+
+"My own dear brother!" was all she could say, as she grasped his hand,
+and held it with both her own.
+
+"The worst of all is, that in the infatuation he feels about this mining
+project he forgets everything else. Letters come to him from agents and
+men of business asking for speedy answers; some occasionally come to
+tell that funds upon which he had reckoned to meet certain payments
+had been withdrawn from his banker long sinca When he reads these, he
+ponders a moment, and mutters, 'The old story, I suppose. It is so easy
+to write Brook Fossbrooke;' and then the whole seems to pass out of his
+mind, and he'll say, 'Come along, Tom; we must push matters a little;
+I'll want some coin by the end of the month.'
+
+"When I grew so weak that I could n't go to the mine, the accounts he
+used to give me daily made me think we must be prospering. He would come
+back every night so cheery and so hopeful, and his eyes would sparkle
+as he 'd tell of a bright vein that they 'd just 'struck.' He owned that
+the men were less sanguine, but what could they know? They had no other
+teaching than the poor experiences of daily labor. If they saw lead or
+silver, they believed in it. To him, however, the signs of the coming
+ore were enough; and then he would open a paper full of dark earth in
+which a few shining particles might be detected, and point them out to
+me as the germs of untold riches. 'These are silver, Tom, every one
+of them; they are oxidized, but still perfectly pure. I 've seen the
+natives in Ceylon washing earth not richer than this;' and the poor
+fellow would make this hopeful tidings the reason for treating me to
+champagne, which in an unlucky moment the doctor said would be good for
+me, and which Sir Brook declared always disagreed with him. But I don't
+believe it, Lucy,--I don't believe it! I am certain that he suffered
+many a privation to give me luxuries that he would n't share. Shall I
+tell you the breakfast I saw him eating one morning? I had gone to his
+room to speak to him before he started to the mine, and, opening the
+door gently, I surprised him at his breakfast,--a piece of brown bread
+and a cup of coffee without milk was his meal, to support him till he
+came home at nightfall. I knew if he were aware that I had seen him that
+it would have given him great distress, so I crept quietly back to my
+bed, and lay down to think of this once pampered, flattered gentleman,
+and how grand the nature must be that could hold up uncomplaining and
+unshaken under such poverty as this. Nor is it that he ignores the past,
+Lucy, or strives to forget it,--far from that. He is full of memories
+of bygone events and people, but he talks of his own part in the grand
+world he once lived in as one might talk of another individual; nor is
+there the semblance of a regret that all this splendor has passed away
+never to return. He will be here on Sunday to pay us a visit, Lucy; and
+though perhaps you 'll find him sadly changed in appearance, you 'll see
+that his fine nature is the same as ever."
+
+"And will he persist in this project, Tom, in spite of all failure and
+in defiance of hope?"
+
+"That's the very point I 'm puzzled about. If he decide to go on, so
+must I. I 'll not leave him, whatever come of it."
+
+"No, no, Tom; that I know you will not do."
+
+"His confidence of success is unshaken. It was only t' other night, as
+we sat at a very frugal supper, he said, 'You 'll remember all this,
+Tom, one of these days; and as you sip your Burgundy, you 'll tell your
+friends how jolly we thought ourselves over our little acid wine and an
+onion.' I did not dare to say what was uppermost in my thoughts, that I
+disbelieved in the Burgundy era."
+
+"It would have been cruel to have done it."
+
+"He had the habit, he tells me, in his days of palmiest prosperity, of
+going off by himself on foot, and wandering about for weeks, roughing it
+amongst all sorts of people,---gypsies, miners, charcoal-burners in the
+German forests, and such-like. He said, without something of this sort,
+he would have grown to believe that all the luxuries he lived amongst
+were _bona fide_ necessities of life. He was afraid too, he said, they
+would become part of him; for his theory is, never let your belongings
+master your own nature."
+
+"There is great romance in such a man."
+
+"Ah! there you have it, Lucy; that's the key to his whole temperament;
+and I 'd not be surprised if he had been crossed in some early love."
+
+"Would that account for all his capricious ways?" said she, smiling.
+
+"My own experiences can tell me nothing; but I have a sister who could
+perhaps help me to an explanation. Eh, Lucy? What think you?"
+
+She tried to laugh off the theme, but the attempt only half succeeded,
+and she turned away her head to hide her confusion.
+
+Tom took her hand between his own, and patted it affectionately.
+
+"I want no confessions, my own dear Lucy," said he, gently; "but if
+there is anything which, for your own happiness or for my honor, I ought
+to know, you will tell me of it, I am certain."
+
+"There is nothing," said she, with a faint gasp.
+
+"And you would tell me if there had been?"
+
+She nodded her head, but did not trust herself to speak.
+
+"And grandpapa, Lucy?" said he, trying to divert her thoughts from what
+he saw was oppressing her; "has he forgiven me yet, or does he still
+harp on about my presumption and self-sufficiency?"
+
+"He is more forgiving than you think, Tom," said she, smiling.
+
+"I am not so sure of that. He wrote me a long letter some time back,--a
+sort of lecture on the faults and shortcomings of my disposition,
+in which he clearly showed that if I had all the gifts which my own
+self-confidence ascribed to me, and a score more that I never dreamed
+of, they would go for nothing,--absolutely nothing, so long as they
+were allied with my unparalleled--no, he did n't call it impudence, but
+something very near it. He told me that men of my stamp were like the
+people who traded on credit, and always cut a sorry figure when their
+accounts came to be audited; and, perhaps to stave off the hour of my
+bankruptcy, he enclosed me fifty pounds."
+
+"So like him!" said she, proudly.
+
+"I suppose it was. Indeed, as I read his note, I thought I heard him
+talking it. There was an acrid flippancy about it that smacked of his
+very voice."
+
+"Oh, Tom, I will not let you say that."
+
+"I 'll think it all the same, Lucy. His letter brought him back to my
+mind so palpably that I thought I stood there before him on that
+morning when he delivered that memorable discourse on my character after
+luncheon."
+
+"Did you reply to him?"
+
+"Yes, I replied," said he, with a dry sententiousness that sounded as
+though he wished the subject to drop.
+
+"Do tell me what you said. I hope you took it in good part. I am sure
+you could not have shown any resentment at his remarks."
+
+"No; I rather think I showed great forbearance. I simply said, 'My dear
+Lord Chief Baron, I have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, of
+which I accept everything but the enclosure.--I am, faithfully yours.'"
+
+"And refused his gift?"
+
+"Of course I did. The good counsel without the money, or the last
+without the counsel, would have beeu all very well; but coming together,
+in what a false position the offer placed me! I remember that same day
+we happened to have an unusually meagre dinner, but I drank the old
+man's health after it in some precious bad wine; and Sir Brook, who knew
+nothing about the letter, joined in the toast, and pronounced a very
+pretty little eulogium on his vigor and energy; and thus ended the whole
+incident."
+
+"If you only knew him better, Tom! if you knew him as I know him!"
+
+Tom shrugged his shoulders, and merely said, "It was nicely done,
+though, not to tell _you_ about this. There was delicacy in _that_."
+
+Lucy went on now to relate all his kind intentions towards Tom when the
+news of his illness arrived,--how he had conferred with Beattie about
+sending out a doctor, and how, at such a sacrifice to his own daily
+habits, he had agreed that she should come out to Cagliari. "And you
+don't know how much this cost him, Master Tom," said she, laughing; "for
+however little store you may lay by my company, he prizes it, and prizes
+it highly too, I promise you; and then there was another reason which
+weighed against his letting me come out here,--he has got some absurd
+prejudice against Sir Brook. I call it absurd, because I have tried to
+find out to what to trace it, and could not; but a chance expression or
+two that fell from Mrs. Sewell leads me to suppose the impression was
+derived from them."
+
+"I don't believe he knows the Sewells. I never heard him speak of them.
+I 'll ask when he comes over here. By the way, how do you like them
+yourself?"
+
+"I scarcely know. I liked her at first,--that is, I thought I should
+like her; and I fancied, too, it was her wish that I might--but--"
+
+"But what? What does this 'but' mean?"
+
+"It means that she has puzzled me, and my hope of liking her depends on
+my discovering that I have misunderstood her."
+
+"That's a riddle, if ever there was one! but I suppose it comes to this,
+that if you have read her aright you do not like her."
+
+"I wish I could show you a letter she wrote me."
+
+"And why can't you?"
+
+"I don't think I can tell you even that, Tom."
+
+"What a mysterious damsel you have grown! Does this come of your living
+with that great law lord, Lucy? If so, tell him from me he has spoiled
+you sadly. How frank you were long ago!"
+
+"That is true," said she, sighing.
+
+"How I wish we could go back to that time, with all its dreaminess and
+all its castle-building. Do you remember, Lu, when we used to set off
+of a morning in the boat on a voyage of discovery, as we called it, and
+find out new islands and new creeks, and give them names?"
+
+"Do I not? Oh, Tom, were we not a thousand times happier then than we
+knew we were?"
+
+"That's a bit of a bull, Lucy, but it's true all the same. I know all
+you mean, and I agree with you."
+
+"If we had troubles, what light ones they were!"
+
+"Ay, that's true. We were not grubbing for lead in those days, and
+finding only quartz; and our poor hearts, Lucy, were whole enough then."
+He gave a half malicious laugh as he said this; but, correcting himself
+quickly, he drew her towards him and said, "Don't be angry with me, dear
+Lu; you know of old what a reckless tongue I 've got."
+
+"Was that thunder, Tom? There it is again. What is it?"
+
+"That's a storm getting up. It's coming from the south'ard. See how the
+drift is flying overhead, and all the while the sea beneath is like a
+mill-pond! Watch the stars now, and you 'll see how, one by one, they
+will drop out, as if extinguished; and mark the little plash--it
+is barely audible--that begins upon the beach. There! did you hear
+that,--that rushing sound like wind through the trees? That's the sea
+getting up. How I wish I was strong enough to stay out here. I 'd like
+to show you a 'Levanter,' girl,--a regular bit of Southern passion, not
+increasing slowly, like a Northern wrath, but bursting out in its full
+fury in an instant. Here it comes!" and as he spoke two claps of thunder
+shook the air, followed by a long clattering roll like musketry, and
+the sea, upheaving, surged heavily hither and thither, while the air was
+still and calm; and then, as though let loose from their caverns, the
+winds swept past with a wild shrill whistle that swelled into a perfect
+roar. The whole surface of the sea became at once white, and the wind,
+sweeping across the crests of the waves, carried away a blinding drift
+that added to the darkness. The thunder, too, rolled on unceasingly, and
+great flashes of lightning broke through the blackness, and displayed
+tall masts and spars of ships far out to sea, rocking fearfully, and in
+the next instant lost to sight in the dense darkness.
+
+"Here comes the rain, and we must run for it," said Tom, as a few heavy
+drops fell. A solemn pause in the storm ensued, and then, as though the
+very sky was rent, the water poured down in cataracts. Laughing merrily,
+they made for the cottage, and though but a few yards off, were drenched
+thoroughly ere they reached it.
+
+"It's going to be a terrific night," said Tom, as he passed from window
+to window, looking to the bars and fastenings. "The great heat always
+brings one of the Levant storms, and the fishermen here know it so well
+that on seeing certain signs at sunset they draw up all their boats on
+shore, and even secure the roofs of their cabins with strong spars and
+stones."
+
+"I hope poor old Nicholas is safe by this time. Could he have reached
+Cagliari by this?" said Lucy.
+
+"Yes, he is snug enough. The old rogue is sitting at his supper this
+minute, cursing the climate and the wine and the place, and the day he
+came to it."
+
+"Come, Tom! I think he bears everything better than I expected."
+
+"Bears everything better! Why, child, what has he to bear that you and
+I have not to bear? Is there one privation here that falls to his share
+without coming to us?"
+
+"And what would be the value of that good blood you are so proud of,
+Tom, if it would not make us as proof against petty annoyances as
+against big dangers?"
+
+"I declare time and place make no change on you. You are the same
+disputatious damsel here that you used to be beside the Shannon. Have
+I not told you scores of times you must never quote what one has once
+said, when it comes in opposition to a present opinion?"
+
+"But if I cease to quote you, Tom, whence am I to derive those maxims of
+wisdom I rely upon so implicitly?"
+
+"Take care, young lady,--take care," said he, shaking his finger at
+her. "Every fort has its weak side. If you assail me by the brain, I
+may attack you at the heart! How will it be then, eh?" Coloring till
+her face and neck were crimson, she tried to laugh; but though her lips
+parted, no sound came forth, and after a second or two of struggle, she
+said, "Good-night," and rushed away.
+
+"Good-night, Lu," cried he after her. "Look well to your
+window-fastenings, or you will be blown away before morning."
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by 
+Charles James Lever
+
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+    <title>
+      Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Vol I. by Charles James Lever,
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    pre     { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+Project Gutenberg's Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by Charles James Lever
+
+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: Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I.
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: E. J. Wheeler
+
+Release Date: February 16, 2011 [EBook #35296]
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE, VOLUME I. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h1>
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE
+</h1>
+<h3>
+Volume I.
+</h3>
+<h2>
+By Charles James Lever,
+</h2>
+<h3>
+With Illustrations By E. J. Wheeler
+</h3>
+<h4>
+Boston: <br /> Little, Brown, And Company. <br /> 1917.
+</h4>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="frontispiece (72K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="titlepage (21K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br /> <br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<h3>
+To PHILIP ROSE, Esq.
+</h3>
+<p>
+My dear Rose,&mdash;You have often stopped me when endeavouring to express
+all the gratitude I felt towards you. You cannot do so now, nor prevent my
+telling aloud how much I owe-how much I esteem you. These volumes were not
+without interest for me as I wrote them, but they yielded me no such
+pleasure as I now feel in dedicating them to you; and, with this
+assurance, believe me,
+</p>
+<p>
+Your affectionate Friend,
+</p>
+<p>
+CHARLES LEVER.
+</p>
+<p>
+Spezia, October 20. 1866.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p class="toc">
+<big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. </a><br /> <br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AFTER MESS <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE SWAN'S NEST
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+DIFFICULT PATIENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HOME
+DIPLOMACIES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WAITING ON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER
+VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOR <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A PUZZLING
+COMMISSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;CAVE CONSULTS SIR
+BROOK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+GREAT MAN'S SCHOOLFELLOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER
+XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LAST DAYS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014">
+CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. HAIRE'S MISSION
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SORROWS
+AND PROJECTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER
+XVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE FIRST LETTER HOME <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;OFFICIAL MYSTERIES
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;IN COURT
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+MORNING CALL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;COMING-HOME
+THOUGHTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+VERY HUMBLE DWELLING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A MORNING AT THE PRIORY <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SIR
+BROOK IN CONFUSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE TWO LUCYS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028">
+CHAPTER XXVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE NEST WITH STRANGE &ldquo;BIRDS&rdquo; IN IT
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SEWELL
+VISITS CAVE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+RACES ON THE LAWN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SEWELL
+ARRIVES IN DUBLIN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MORNING AT THE PRIORY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033">
+CHAPTER XXXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;EVENING AT THE PRIORY <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SEWELL'S TROUBLES
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEATTIE'S
+RETURN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN
+EXIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+STORMY MOMENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A LADY'S LETTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0039">
+CHAPTER XXXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SOME CONJUGAL COURTESIES <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. BALFOUR'S OFFICE
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+PRIORY IN ITS DESERTION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER
+XLII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;NECESSITIES OP STATE <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. BALFOUR'S
+MISSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XLIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AFTER-DINNER
+THOUGHTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER XLV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+TIDELESS SHORES <br /><br />
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h1>
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE.
+</h1>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER I. AFTER MESS
+</h2>
+<p>
+The mess was over, and the officers of H. M.'s &mdash;th were grouped in
+little knots and parties, sipping their coffee, and discussing the
+arrangements for the evening. Their quarter was that pleasant city of
+Dublin, which, bating certain exorbitant demands in the matter of
+field-day and guard-mounting, stands pre-eminently first in military
+favor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you going to that great ball in Merrion Square?&rdquo; asked one., &ldquo;Not so
+lucky; not invited.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I got a card,&rdquo; cried a third; &ldquo;but I 've just heard it's not to come off.
+It seems that the lady's husband is a judge. He's Chief something or
+other; and he has been called away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, Tomkins; unless you call a summons to the next world
+being called away. The man is dangerously ill. He was seized with
+paralysis on the Bench yesterday, and, they say, can't recover.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There now ensued an animated conversation as to whether, on death
+vacancies, the men went up by seniority at the bar, or whether a subaltern
+could at once spring up to the top of the regiment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Suppose,&rdquo; said one, &ldquo;we were to ask the Colonel's guest his opinion. The
+old cove has talked pretty nigh of everything in this world during dinner;
+what if we were to ask him about Barons of the Exchequer?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is he? what is he?&rdquo; asked another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Colonel called him Sir Brook Fossbrooke; that's all I know.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Colonel Cave told me,&rdquo; whispered the Major, &ldquo;that he was the fastest man
+on town some forty years ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think he must have kept over the wardrobe of that brilliant period,&rdquo;
+ said another. &ldquo;I never saw a really swallow-tailed coat before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His ring amused <i>me</i>. It is a small smoothing-iron, with a
+coat-of-arms on it. Hush! here he comes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The man who now joined the group was a tall, gaunt figure, with a high
+narrow head, from which the hair was brushed rigidly back to fall behind
+in something like an old-fashioned queue. His eyes were black, and
+surmounted with massive and much-arched eyebrows; a strongly marked mouth,
+stern, determined, and, except in speaking, almost cruel in expression,
+and a thin-pointed projecting chin, gave an air of severity and strong
+will to features which, when he conversed, displayed a look of courteous
+deference, and that peculiar desire to please that we associate with a
+bygone school of breeding. He was one of those men, and very distinctive
+are they, with whom even the least cautious take no liberties, nor venture
+upon any familiarity. The eccentricities of determined men are very often
+indications of some deep spirit beneath, and not, as in weaker natures,
+mere emanations of vanity or offsprings of self-indulgence.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he was, beyond question, a gentleman, there were also signs about him
+of narrow fortune: his scrupulously white shirt was not fine, and the
+seams of his well-brushed coat showed both care and wear.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had joined the group, who were talking of the coming Derby when the
+Colonel came up. &ldquo;I have sent for the man we want, Fossbrooke. I'm not a
+fisherman myself; but they tell me he knows every lake, river, and rivulet
+in the island. He has sat down to whist, but we 'll have him here
+presently.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On no account; don't disturb his game for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here he comes. Trafford, I want to present you to a very old friend of
+mine, Sir Brook Fossbrooke,&mdash;as enthusiastic an angler as yourself.
+He has the ambition to hook an Irish salmon. I don't suppose any one can
+more readily help him on the road to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The young man thus addressed was a large, strongly, almost heavily built
+young fellow, but with that looseness of limb and freedom that showed
+activity had not been sacrificed to mere power. He had a fine, frank,
+handsome face, blue-eyed and bold-looking; and as he stood to receive the
+Colonel's orders, there was in his air that blending of deference and
+good-humored carelessness that made up his whole nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was plain to see in him one easy to persuade, impossible to coerce; a
+fellow with whom the man he liked could do anything, bat one perfectly
+unmanageable if thrown into the wrong hands. He was the second son of a
+very rich baronet, but made the mistake of believing he had as much right
+to extravagance as his elder brother, and, having persisted in this error
+during two years in the Life Guards, had been sent to do the double
+penance of an infantry regiment and an Irish station; two inflictions
+which, it was believed, would have sufficed to calm down the ardor of the
+most impassioned spendthrift. He looked at Fossbrooke from head to foot.
+It was not exactly the stamp of man he would have selected for
+companionship, but he saw at once that he was distinctively a gentleman,
+and then the prospect of a few days away from regimental duty was not to
+be despised, and he quickly replied that both he and his tackle were at
+Sir Brook's disposal. &ldquo;If we could run down to Killaloe, sir,&rdquo; added he,
+turning to the Colonel, &ldquo;we might be almost sure of some sport.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which means that you want two days' leave, Trafford.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, four. It will take a day at least to get over there; another
+will be lost in exploring; all these late rains have sent such a fresh
+into the Shannon there's no knowing where to try.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see, Fossbrooke, what a casuistical companion I've given you. I 'll
+wager you a five-pound note that if you come back without a rise he 'll
+have an explanation that will perfectly explain it was the best thing
+could have happened.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am charmed to travel in such company,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, bowing. &ldquo;The
+gentleman has already established a claim to my respect for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Trafford bowed too, and looked not at all displeased at the compliment.
+&ldquo;Are you an early riser, sir?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am anything, sir, the occasion exacts; but when I have an early start
+before me, I usually sit up all night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own plan too,&rdquo; cried Trafford. &ldquo;And there's Aubrey quite ready to join
+us. Are you a whister, Sir Brook?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At your service. I play all games.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he a whister?&rdquo; repeated the Colonel. &ldquo;Ask Harry Greville, ask Tom
+Newenham, what they say of him at Grahams? Trafford, my boy, you may
+possibly give him a hint about gray hackles, but I 'll be shot if you do
+about the odd trick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you 'll come over to my room, Sir Brook, we 'll have a rubber, and I
+'ll give orders to have my tax-cart ready for us by daybreak,&rdquo; said
+Trafford; and, Fossbrooke promising to be with him so soon as he had given
+his servant his orders, they parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are you as equal to this sitting up all night as you used to be,
+Fossbrooke?&rdquo; asked the Colonel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't smoke as many cigars as formerly, and I am a little more choice
+about my tobacco. I avoid mulled port, and take weak brandy-and-water; and
+I believe in all other respects I 'm pretty much where I was when we met
+last,&mdash;I think it was at Ceylon?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I could say as much for myself. You are talking of thirty-four
+years ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My secret against growing old is to do a little of everything. It keeps
+the sympathies wider, makes a man more accessible to other men, and keeps
+him from dwelling too much on himself. But tell me about my young
+companion; is he one of Sir Hugh's family?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His second son; not unlike to be his eldest, for George has gone to
+Madeira with very little prospect of recovery. This is a fine lad; a
+little wild, a little careless of money, but the very soul of honor and
+right-mindedness. They sent him to me as a sort of incurable, but I have
+nothing but good to say of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 'a great promise in a fellow when he can be a scamp and a man of
+honor. When dissipations do not degrade and excesses do not corrupt a man,
+there is a grand nature ever beneath.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't tell him that, Fossbrooke,&rdquo; said the Colonel, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not likely to do so,&rdquo; said he, with a grim smile. &ldquo;I am glad, too,
+to meet his father's son; we were at Christ Church together; and now I see
+he has the family good looks. 'Le beau Trafford' was a proverb in Paris
+once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you ever forget a man?&rdquo; asked the Colonel, in some curiosity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe not. I forget books, places, dates occasionally, but never
+people. I met an old schoolfellow t'other day at Dover whom I never saw
+since we were boys. He had gone down in the world, and was acting as one
+of the 'commissionnaires' they call them, who take your keys to the
+Custom-house to have your luggage examined; and when he came to ask me to
+employ him, I said, &ldquo;'What! ain't you Jemmy Harper?' 'And who the devil
+are you?' said he. 'Fossbrooke,' said I. 'Not &ldquo;Wart&rdquo;?' said he. That was
+my school nickname, from a wart I once had on my chin. 'Ay, to be sure,'
+said I, 'Wart.' I wish you saw the delight of the old dog. I made him dine
+with us. Lord Brackington was with me, and enjoyed it all immensely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what had brought him so low?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He was cursed, he said, with a strong constitution; all the other fellows
+of his set had so timed it that when they had nothing to live on they
+ceased to live; but Jemmy told us he never had such an appetite as now;
+that he passed from fourteen to sixteen hours a day on the pier in all
+weathers; and as to gout he firmly believed it all came of the adulterated
+wines of the great wine-merchants. British gin he maintained to be the
+wholesomest liquor in existence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder how fellows bear up under such reverses as that,&rdquo; said the
+Colonel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My astonishment is rather,&rdquo; cried Fossbrooke, &ldquo;how men can live on in a
+monotony of well-being, getting fatter, older, and more unwieldy, and with
+only such experiences of life as a well-fed fowl might have in a hencoop.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know that's <i>your</i> theory,&rdquo; said the other, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, no man can say that I have not lived up to my convictions; and for
+myself, I can aver I have thoroughly enjoyed my intercourse with the
+world, and like it as well to-day as on the first morning I made my bow to
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen to this, young gentlemen,&rdquo; said the Colonel, turning to his
+officers, who now gathered around them. &ldquo;Now and then I hear some of you
+complaining of being bored or wearied,&mdash;sick of this, tired of that;
+here's my friend, who knows the whole thing better than any of us, and he
+declares that the world is the best of all possible worlds, and that so
+far from familiarity with it inspiring disgust with life, his enjoyment of
+it is as racy as when first he knew it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is rather hard to ask these gentlemen to take me as a guide on trust,&rdquo;
+ said Fossbrooke; &ldquo;but I have known the fathers of most of those I see
+around me, and could call many of them as witnesses to character. Major
+Aylmer, your father and I went up the Nile together, when people talked of
+it as a journey. Captain Harris, I 'm sure I am not wrong in saying you
+are the son of Godfrey Harris, of Harrisburg. Your father was my friend on
+the day I wounded Lord Ecclesmore. I see four or five others too,&mdash;so
+like old companions that I find it hard to believe I am not back again in
+the old days when I was as young as themselves; and yet I 'm not very
+certain if I would like to exchange my present quiet enjoyment as a
+looker-on for all that active share I once took in life and its
+pleasures.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Something in the fact that their fathers had lived in his intimacy,
+something in his manner,&mdash;a very courteous manner it was,&mdash;and
+something in the bold, almost defiant bearing of the old man, vouching for
+great energy and dignity together, won greatly upon the young men, and
+they gathered around him. He was, however, summoned away by a message from
+Trafford to say that the whist-party waited for him, and he took his leave
+with a stately courtesy and withdrew.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There goes one of the strangest fellows in Christendom,&rdquo; said the
+Colonel, as the other left the room. &ldquo;He has already gone through three
+fortunes; he dissipated the first, speculated and lost the second, and the
+third he, I might say, gave away in acts of benevolence and kindness,&mdash;leaving
+himself so ill off that I actually heard the other day that some friend
+had asked for the place of barrack-master at Athlone for him; but on
+coming over to see the place, he found a poor fellow with a wife and five
+children a candidate for it; so he retired in his favor, and is content,
+as you see, to go out on the world, and take his chance with it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Innumerable questions pressed on the Colonel to tell more of his strange
+friend; he had, however, little beyond hearsay to give them. Of his own
+experiences, he could only say that when first he met him it was at
+Ceylon, where he had come in a yacht like a sloop of war to hunt
+elephants,&mdash;the splendor of his retinue and magnificence of his suite
+giving him the air of a royal personage,&mdash;and indeed the gorgeous
+profusion of his presents to the King and the chief personages of the
+court went far to impress this notion. &ldquo;I never met him since,&rdquo; said the
+Colonel, &ldquo;till this morning, when he walked into my room, dusty and
+travel-stained, to say, 'I just heard your name, and thought I 'd ask you
+to give me my dinner to-day.' I owe him a great many,&mdash;not to say
+innumerable other attentions; and his last act on leaving Trincomalee was
+to present me with an Arab charger, the most perfect animal I ever
+mounted. It is therefore a real pleasure to me to receive him. He is a
+thoroughly fine-hearted fellow, and, with all his eccentricities, one of
+the noblest natures I ever met. The only flaw in his frankness is as to
+his age; nobody has ever been able to get it from him. You heard him talk
+of your fathers,&mdash;he might talk of your grandfathers; and he would,
+too, if we had only the opportunity to lead him on to it. I know of my own
+knowledge that he lived in the Carlton House coterie, not a man of which
+except himself survives, and I have heard him give imitations of Burke,
+Sheridan, Gavin Hamilton, and Pitt, that none but one who had seen them
+could have accomplished. And now that I have told you all this, will one
+of you step over to Trafford's rooms, and whisper him a hint to make his
+whist-points as low as he can; and, what is even of more importance, to
+take care lest any strange story Sir Brook may tell&mdash;and he is full
+of them&mdash;meet a sign of incredulity, still less provoke any quizzing?
+The slightest shade of such a provocation would render him like a madman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Major volunteered to go on this mission, which indeed any of the
+others would as willingly have accepted, for the old man had interested
+them deeply, and they longed to hear more about him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER II. THE SWAN'S NEST
+</h2>
+<p>
+As the Shannon draws near Killaloe, the wild character of the mountain
+scenery, the dreary wastes and desolate islands which marked Lough Derg,
+disappear, and give way to gently sloping lawns, dotted over with
+well-grown timber, well-kept demesnes, spacious country-houses, and a
+country which, in general, almost recalls the wealth and comfort of
+England.
+</p>
+<p>
+About a mile above the town, in a little bend of the river forming a small
+bay, stands a small but pretty house, with a skirt of rich wood projecting
+at the back, while the lawn in front descends by an easy slope to the
+river.
+</p>
+<p>
+Originally a mere farmhouse, the taste of an ingenious owner had taken
+every advantage of its irregular outline, and converted it into something
+Elizabethan in character, a style admirably adapted to the site, where all
+the features of rich-colored landscape abounded, and where varied foliage,
+heathy mountain, and eddying river, all lent themselves to make up a scene
+of fresh and joyous beauty.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the marvellous fertility of the soil, too, was found an ally to every
+prospect of embellishment. Sheltered from north and east winds, plants
+grew here in the open air, which in less favored spots needed the
+protection of the conservatory; and thus in the neatly shaven lawn were
+seen groups of blossoming shrubs or flowers of rare excellence, and the
+camellia and the salvia and the oleander blended with the tulip, the
+moss-rose, and the carnation, to stud the grass with their gorgeous
+colors.
+</p>
+<p>
+Over the front of the cottage, for cottage it really was, a South American
+creeper, a sort of acanthus, grew, its crimson flowers hanging in rich
+profusion over cornice and architrave; while a passion-tree of great age
+covered the entire porch, relieving with its softened tints the almost
+over-brilliancy of the southern plant.
+</p>
+<p>
+Seen from the water,&mdash;and it came suddenly into view on rounding a
+little headland,&mdash;few could forbear from an exclamation of wonder and
+admiration at this lovely spot; nor could all the pretentious grandeur of
+the rich-wooded parks, nor all the more imposing architecture of the great
+houses, detract from the marvellous charm of this simple home.
+</p>
+<p>
+A tradition of a swan carried away by some rising of the river from the
+Castle of Portumna, and swept down the lake till it found refuge in the
+little bay, had given the name to the place, and for more than a hundred
+years was it known as the Swan's Nest. The Swan, however, no longer
+existed, though a little thatched edifice at the water-side marked the
+spot it had once inhabited, and sustained the truth of the legend.
+</p>
+<p>
+The owner of the place was a Dr. Lendrick: he had come to it about twenty
+years before the time at which our story opens,&mdash;a widower with two
+children, a son and a daughter. He was a perfect stranger to all the
+neighborhood, though by name well known as the son of a distinguished
+judge, Baron Lendrick of the Court of Exchequer.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was rumored about, that, having displeased his father, first by
+adopting medicine instead of law as his profession, and subsequently by
+marrying a portionless girl of humble family, the Baron had ceased to
+recognize him in any way. Making a settlement of a few hundreds a year on
+him, he resolved to leave the bulk of his fortune to a step-son, the child
+of his second wife, a Colonel Sewell, then in India.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was with no thought of practising his profession that Dr. Lendrick had
+settled in the neighborhood; but as he was always ready to assist the poor
+by his advice and skill, and as the reputation of his great ability
+gradually got currency, he found himself constrained to yield to the
+insistence of his neighbors, and consent to practise generally. There were
+many things which made this course unpalatable to him. He was by nature
+shy, timid, and retiring; he was fastidiously averse to a new
+acquaintanceship; he had desired, besides, to live estranged from the
+world, devoting himself entirely to the education of his children; and he
+neither liked the forced publicity he became exposed to, nor that life of
+servitude which leaves the doctor at the hourly mercy of the world around
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he yielded, therefore, to the professional calls upon him, he resisted
+totally all social claims: he went nowhere but as the doctor.
+</p>
+<p>
+No persuasion, no inducement, could prevail on him to dine out; no
+exigency of time or season prevent him returning to his home at night.
+There were in his neighborhood one or two persons whose rank might have,
+it was supposed, influenced him in some degree to comply with their
+requests,&mdash;and, certainly, whose desire for his society would have
+left nothing undone to secure it; but he was as obdurate to them as to
+others, and the Earl of Drum-carran and Sir Reginald Lacy, of Lacy Manor,
+were not a whit more successful in their blandishments than the Vicar of
+Killaloe&mdash;old Bob Mills, as he was irreverently called&mdash;or
+Lendrick's own colleague, Dr. Tobin, who, while he respected his superior
+ability and admitted his knowledge, secretly hated him as only a rival
+doctor knows how to hate a brother practitioner.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the first time for many years had Dr. Lendrick gone up to Dublin. A
+few lines from an old family physician, Dr. Beattie, had, however, called
+him up to town. The Chief Baron had been taken ill in Court, and was
+conveyed home in a state of insensibility. It was declared that he had
+rallied and passed a favorable night; but as he was a man of very advanced
+age, at no time strong, and ever unsparing of himself in the arduous
+labors of his office, grave doubts were felt that he would ever again
+resume his seat on the Bench. Dr. Beattie well knew the long estrangement
+that had separated the father from the son; and although, perhaps, the
+most intimate friend the Judge had in the world, he never had dared to
+interpose a word or drop a hint as to the advisability of reconciliation.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sir William Lendrick was, indeed, a man whom no amount of intimacy could
+render his friends familiar with. He was positively charming to mere
+acquaintanceship,&mdash;his manner was a happy blending of deference with
+a most polished wit Full of bygone experiences and reminiscences of
+interesting people and events, he never overlaid conversation by their
+mention, but made them merely serve to illustrate the present, either by
+contrast or resemblance. All this to the world and society was he; to the
+inmates of his house he was a perfect terror! It was said his first wife
+had died of a broken heart; his second, with a spirit fierce and combative
+as his own, had quarrelled with him so often, so seriously, and so
+hopelessly, that for the last fifteen years of life they had occupied
+separate houses, and only met as acquaintances, accepting and sending
+invitations to each other, and outwardly observing all the usages of a
+refined courtesy.
+</p>
+<p>
+This was the man of whom Dr. Beattie wrote: &ldquo;I cannot presume to say that
+he is <i>more</i> favorably disposed towards you than he has shown himself
+for years, but I would strenuously advise your being here, and
+sufficiently near, so that if a happier disposition should occur, or an
+opportunity arise to bring you once more together, the fortunate moment
+should not be lost. Come up, then, at once, come to my house, where your
+room is ready for you, and where you will neither be molested by visitors
+nor interfered with. Manage too, if you can, to remain here for some
+days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It is no small tribute to the character of filial affection when one can
+say, and say truthfully, that scarcely any severity on a parent's part
+effaces the love that was imbibed in infancy, and that struck root in the
+heart before it could know what unkindness was! Over and over again in
+life have I witnessed this deep devotion. Over and over again have I seen
+a clinging affection to a memory which nothing short of a hallowed tie
+could have made so dear,&mdash;a memory that retained whatever could
+comfort and sustain, and held nothing that recalled shame or sorrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Lendrick went up to town full of such emotions. All the wrong&mdash;it
+was heavy wrong too&mdash;he had suffered was forgotten, all the Injustice
+wiped out. He only asked to be permitted to see his father,&mdash;to nurse
+and watch by him. There was no thought for himself. By reconciliation he
+never meant restoration to his place as heir. Forgiveness and love he
+asked for,&mdash;to be taken back to the heart so long closed against him,
+to hear himself called Tom by that voice he knew so well, and whose
+accents sounded through his dreams.
+</p>
+<p>
+That he was not without a hope of such happiness, might be gathered from
+one circumstance. He had taken up with him two miniatures of his boy and
+girl to show &ldquo;Grandfather,&rdquo; if good fortune should ever offer a fitting
+moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first words which greeted him on reaching his friend's house were:
+&ldquo;Better. A tolerably tranquil night. He can move his hand. The attack was
+paralysis, and his speech is also improved.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And his mind? how is his mind?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Clear as ever it was,&mdash;intensely eager to hear what is said about
+his illness, and insatiable as to the newspaper versions of the attack.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does he speak? Has he spoken of&mdash;his family at all?&rdquo; said he,
+falteringly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only of Lady Lendrick. He desired to see her. He dictated a note to me,
+in terms of very finished courtesy, asking her if, without incurring
+inconvenience, she would favor him with an early call. The whole thing was
+so like himself that I saw at once he was getting better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so you think him better?&rdquo; asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better! Yes&mdash;but not out of danger. I fear as much from his
+irritability as his malady. He will insist on seeing the newspapers, and
+occasionally his eye falls on some paragraph that wounds him. It was but
+yesterday that he read a sort of querulous regret from some writer that
+'the learned Judge had not retired some years ago, and before failing
+health, acting on a very irascible temperament, had rendered him a terror
+alike to the bar and the suitors.' That unfortunate paragraph cost twenty
+leeches and ice to his temples for eight hours after.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cannot these things be kept from him? Surely your authority ought to be
+equal to this!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were I to attempt it, he would refuse to see me. In fact, any utility I
+can contribute depends on my apparent submission to him in everything.
+Almost his first question to me every morning is, 'Well, sir, who is to be
+my successor?' Of course I say that we all look with a sanguine hope to
+see him soon back in his court again. When I said this yesterday, he
+replied, 'I will sit on Wednesday, sir, to hear appeals; there will be
+little occasion for me to speak, and I trust another day or two will see
+the last of this difficulty of utterance. Pemberton, I know, is looking to
+the Attorney-Generalship, and George Hayes thinks he may order his ermine.
+Tell them, however, from me, that the Chief Baron intends to preside in
+his court for many a year to come; that the intellect, such as it is, with
+which Providence endowed him, is still unchanged and unclouded.' This is
+his language,&mdash;this his tone; and you may know how such a spirit jars
+with all our endeavors to promote rest and tranquillity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lendrick walked moodily up and down the room, his head sunk, and his eyes
+downcast. &ldquo;Never to speak of me,&mdash;never ask to see me,&rdquo; muttered he,
+in a voice of intense sadness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I half suspected at one time he was about to do so, and indeed he said,
+'If this attack should baffle you, Beattie, you must not omit to give
+timely warning. There are two or three things to be thought of.' When I
+came away on that morning, I sat down and wrote to you to come up here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A servant entered at this moment and presented a note to the doctor, who
+read it hastily and handed it to Lendrick. It ran thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear Dr. Beattie,&mdash;The Chief Baron has had an unfavorable turn,
+partly brought on by excitement. Lose no time in coming here; and believe
+me, yours sincerely,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;CONSTANTIA LENDRICK.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They've had a quarrel; I knew they would. I did my best to prevent their
+meeting; but I saw he would not go out of the world without a scene. As he
+said last night, 'I mean her to hear my &ldquo;charge.&rdquo; She must listen to my
+charge, Beattie;' and I 'd not be astonished if this charge were to prove
+his own sentence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go to him at once, Beattie; and if it be at all possible, if you can
+compass it in any way, let me see him once again. Take these with you; who
+knows but their bright faces may plead better than words for us?&rdquo; and thus
+saying, he gave him the miniatuies; and overcome with emotion he could not
+control, turned away and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER III. A DIFFICULT PATIENT
+</h2>
+<p>
+As Dr. Beattie drove off with all speed to the Chief Baron's house, which
+lay about three miles from the city, he had time to ponder as he went over
+his late interview. &ldquo;Tom Lendrick,&rdquo; as he still called him to himself, he
+had known as a boy, and ever liked him. He had been a patient, studious,
+gentle-tempered lad, desirous to acquire knowledge, without any of that
+ambition that wants to make the knowledge marketable. To have gained a
+professorship would have appeared to have been the very summit of his
+ambition, and this rather as a quiet retreat to pursue his studies further
+than as a sphere wherein to display his own gifts. Anything more unlike
+that bustling, energetic, daring spirit, his father, would be hard to
+conceive. Throughout his whole career at the bar, and in Parliament, men
+were never quite sure what that brilliant speaker and most indiscreet
+talker would do next. Men secured his advocacy with a half misgiving
+whether they were doing the very best or the very worst for success. Give
+him difficulties to deal with, and he was a giant; let all go smoothly and
+well, and he would hunt up some crotchet,&mdash;some obsolete usage,&mdash;a
+doubtful point, that in its discussion very frequently led to the damage
+of his client's cause, and the defeat of his suit.
+</p>
+<p>
+Display was ever more to him than victory. Let him have a great arena to
+exhibit in, and he was proof against all the difficulties and all the
+casualties of the conflict. Never had such a father a son less the
+inheritor of his temperament and nature; and this same disappointment
+rankling on through life&mdash;a disappointment that embittered all
+intercourse, and went so far as to make him disparage the high abilities
+of his son&mdash;created a gulf between them that Beattie knew could never
+be bridged over. He doubted, too, whether as a doctor he could
+conscientiously introduce a theme so likely to irritate and excite. As he
+pondered, he opened the two miniatures, and looked at them. The young man
+was a fine, manly, daring-looking fellow, with a determined brow and a
+resolute mouth, that recalled his grandfather's face; he was evidently
+well grown and strong, and looked one that, thrown where he might be in
+life, would be likely to assert his own.
+</p>
+<p>
+The girl, wonderfully like him in feature, had a character of subdued
+humor in her eye, and a half-hid laughter in the mouth, which the artist
+had caught up with infinite skill, that took away all the severity of the
+face, and softened its traits to a most attractive beauty. Through her
+rich brown hair there was a sort of golden <i>reflet</i> that imparted
+great brilliancy to the expression of the head, and her large eyes of
+gray-blue were the image of candor and softness, till her laugh gave them
+a sparkle of drollery whose sympathy there was no resisting. She, too, was
+tall and beautifully formed, with that slimness of early youth that only
+escapes being angular, but has in it the charm of suppleness that lends
+grace to every action and every gesture.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish he could see the originals,&rdquo; muttered Beattie. &ldquo;If the old man,
+with his love of beauty, but saw that girl, it would be worth all the
+arguments in Christendom. Is it too late for this? Have we time for the
+experiment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Thus thinking, he drove along the well-wooded approach, and gained the
+large ground-space before the door, whence a carriage was about to drive
+away. &ldquo;Oh, doctor,&rdquo; cried a voice, &ldquo;I'm so glad you 're come; they are
+most impatient for you.&rdquo; It was the Solicitor-General, Mr. Pemberton, who
+now came up to the window of Beattie's carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has become quite unmanageable, will not admit a word of counsel or
+advice, resists all interference, and insists on going out for a drive.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see him at the window,&rdquo; said Beattie; &ldquo;he is beckoning to me;
+good-bye,&rdquo; and he passed on and entered the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the chief drawing-room, in a deep recess of a window, sat the Chief
+Baron, dressed as if to go out, with an overcoat and even his gloves on.
+&ldquo;Come and drive with me, Beattie,&rdquo; cried he, in a feeble but harsh voice.
+&ldquo;If I take my man Leonard, they 'll say it was a keeper. You know that the
+'Post' has it this morning that it is my mind which has given way. They
+say they 've seen me breaking for years back. Good heavens! can it be
+possible, think you, that the mites in a cheese speculate over the nature
+of the man that eats them? You stopped to talk with Pemberton I saw; what
+did he say to you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing particular,&mdash;a mere greeting, I think.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, it was not; he was asking you how many hours there lay between
+him and the Attorney-Generalship. They 've divided the carcase already.
+The lion has to assist at his autopsy,&mdash;rather hard, is n't it? How
+it embitters death, to think of the fellows who are to replace us!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me feel your pulse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't trust it, Beattie; that little dialogue of yours on the grass plot
+has sent it up thirty beats; how many is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Rapid,&mdash;very rapid; you need rest,&mdash;tranquillity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you can't give me either, sir; neither you nor your craft. You are
+the Augurs of modern civilization, and we cling to your predictions just
+as our forefathers did, though we never believe you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is not flattery,&rdquo; said Beattie, with a slight smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man closed his eyes, and passed his hand slowly over his forehead.
+&ldquo;I suppose I was dreaming, Beattie, just before you came up; but I thought
+I saw them all in the Hall, talking and laughing over my death. Burrowes
+was telling how old I must be, because I moved the amendment to Flood in
+the Irish Parliament in '97; and Eames mentioned that I was Curran's
+junior in the great Bagenal record; and old Tysdal set them all in a roar
+by saying he had a vision of me standing at the gate of heaven, and
+instead of going in, as St. Peter invited me, stoutly refusing, and
+declaring I would move for a new trial! How like the rascals!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you think you'd be better in your own room? There's too much light
+and glare here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sure of it. You need quiet, and the absence of all that stimulates
+the action of the brain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do <i>you</i>, sir,&mdash;what does any one,&mdash;know about
+the brain's operations? You doctors have invented a sort of conventional
+cerebral organ, which, like lunar caustic, is decomposed by light; and in
+your vulgar materialism you would make out that what affects <i>your</i>
+brain must act alike upon <i>mine</i>. I tell you, sir, it is darkness&mdash;obscurity,
+physical or moral, it matters not which&mdash;that irritates <i>me</i>,
+just as I feel provoked this moment by this muddling talk of yours about
+brain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet I 'm talking about what my daily life and habits suggest <i>some</i>
+knowledge of,&rdquo; said Beattie, mildly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So you are, sir, and the presumption is all on my side. If you'll kindly
+lend me your arm, I'll go back to my room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Step by step, slowly and painfully, he returned to his chamber, not
+uttering a word as he went.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, this is better, doctor; this half light soothes; it is much
+pleasanter. One more kindness. I wrote to Lady Lendrick this morning to
+come up here. I suppose my combative spirit was high in me, and I wanted a
+round with the gloves,&mdash;or, indeed, without them; at all events, I
+sent the challenge. But <i>now</i>, doctor, I have to own myself a craven.
+I dread the visit Could you manage to interpose? Could you suggest that it
+is by your order I am not permitted to receive her? Could you hint&rdquo;&mdash;here
+he smiled half maliciously&mdash;&ldquo;that you do not think the time has come
+for anodynes,&mdash;eh, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave it to me. I 'll speak to Lady Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's another thing: not that it much matters; but it might perhaps be
+as well to send a few lines to the morning papers, to say the accounts of
+the Chief Baron are more favorable to-day; he passed a tranquil night, and
+so on. Pemberton won't like it, nor Hayes; but it will calm the fears of a
+very attached friend who calls here twice daily. You'd never guess him. He
+is the agent of the Globe Office, where I 'm insured. Ah, doctor, it was a
+bright thought of Philanthropy to establish an industrial enterprise that
+is bound, under heavy recognizances, to be grieved at our death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must not make you talk, Sir William. I must not encourage you to exert
+yourself. I 'll say good-bye, and look in upon you this afternoon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to have a book? Well; be it so. I I 'll sit and muse over the
+Attorney-General and his hopes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have got two very interesting miniatures here. I 'll leave them with
+you; you might like to look at them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miniatures! whose portraits are they?&rdquo; asked the other, hastily, as he
+almost snatched them from his hand. &ldquo;What a miserable juggler! what a
+stale trick this!&rdquo; said he, as he opened the case which contained the
+young man's picture. &ldquo;So, sir, you lend yourself to such attempts as
+these.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't understand you,&rdquo; said Beattie, indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, you understand me perfectly. You would do, by a piece of
+legerdemain, what you have not the courage to attempt openly. These are
+Tom Lendrick's children.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this simpering young lady is her mother's image; pretty, pretty, no
+doubt; and a little&mdash;a shade, perhaps&mdash;of <i>espièglerie</i>
+above what her mother possessed. She was the silliest woman that ever
+turned a fool's head. She had the ineffable folly, sir, to believe she
+could persuade me to forgive my son for having married her; and when I
+handed her to a seat,&mdash;for she was at my knees,&mdash;she fainted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well. It is time to forgive him now. As for her, she is beyond
+forgiveness, or favor, either,&rdquo; said Beattie, with more energy than
+before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is no such trial to a man in a high calling as the temptation it
+offers him to step beyond it. Take care, sir, that with all your
+acknowledged ability, this temptation be not too much for you.&rdquo; The tone
+and manner in which the old judge delivered these words recalled the
+justice-seat. &ldquo;It is an honor to me to have you as my doctor, sir. It
+would be to disparage my own intelligence to accept you as my confessor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A doctor but discharges half his trust when he fails to warn his patient
+against the effects of irritability.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The man who would presume to minister to my temper or to my nature should
+be no longer medico of mine. With what intention, sir, did you bring me
+these miniatures?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That you might see two bright and beautiful faces whose owners are bound
+to you by the strongest ties of blood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you know, sir,&mdash;have you ever heard,&mdash;how their father, by
+his wilfulness, by his folly, by his heartless denial of my right to
+influence him, ruined the fortune that cost my life of struggle and labor
+to create?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The doctor shook his head, and the other continued: &ldquo;Then I will tell it
+to you, sir. It is more than seventeen years to-day when the then Viceroy
+sent for me, and said, 'Baron Lendrick, there is no man, after Plunkett,
+to whom we owe more than to yourself.' I bowed, and said, 'I do not accept
+the qualification, my Lord, even in favor of the distinguished Chancellor.
+I will not believe myself second to any.' I need not relate what ensued;
+the discussion was a long one,&mdash;it was also a warm one; but he came
+back at last to the object of the interview, which was to say that the
+Prime Minister was willing to recommend my name to her Majesty for the
+Peerage,&mdash;an honor, he was pleased to say, the public would see
+conferred upon me with approval; and I refused! Yes, sir, I refused what
+for thirty-odd years had formed the pride and the prize of my existence! I
+refused it, because I would not that her Majesty's favor should descend to
+one so unworthy of it as this fellow, or that his low-born children should
+inherit a high name of my procuring. I refused, sir, and I told the noble
+Marquess my reasons. He tried&mdash;pretty much as you have tried&mdash;to
+bring me to a more forgiving spirit; but I stopped him by saying, 'When I
+hear that your Excellency has invited to your table the scurrilous author
+of the lampoon against you in the &ldquo;Satirist,&rdquo; I will begin to listen to
+the claims that may be urged on the score of forgiveness; not till then.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am wrong&mdash;very wrong&mdash;to let you talk on themes like this; we
+must keep them for calmer moments.&rdquo; Beattie laid his finger on the pulse
+as he spoke, and counted the beats by his watch.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, what says Death? Will he consent to a 'nolle prosequi,' or
+must the cause go on?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not worse; and even that, after all this excitement, is
+something. Good-bye now till evening. No books,&mdash;no newspapers,
+remember. Doze; dream; do anything but excite yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are cruel, sir; you cut off all my enjoyments together. You deny me
+the resources of reading, and you deny me the solace of my wife's
+society.&rdquo; The cutting sarcasm of the last words was shown in the spiteful
+sparkle of his eye, and the insolent curl of his mouth; and as the doctor
+retired, the memory of that wicked look haunted him throughout the day.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IV. HOME DIPLOMACIES
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, it 's done now, Lucy, and it can't be helped,&rdquo; said young Lendrick
+to his sister, as, with an unlighted cigar between his lips, and his hands
+in the pockets of his shooting-jacket, he walked impatiently up and down
+the drawing-room. &ldquo;I 'm sure if I only suspected you were so strongly
+against it, I 'd not have done it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Tom, I'm only against it because I think papa would be so. You
+know we never see any one here when he is at home, and why should we now,
+because he is absent?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just for that reason. It's our only chance, girl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I don't mean that exactly, but I said it to startle you. No, Lucy;
+but, you see, here's how the matter stands. I have been three whole days
+in their company. On Tuesday the young fellow gave me that book of flies
+and the top-joint of my rod. Yesterday I lunched with them. To-day they
+pressed me so hard to dine with them that I felt almost rude in persisting
+to refuse; and it was as much to avoid the awkwardness of the situation as
+anything else that I asked them up to tea this evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sure, Tom, if it would give you any pleasure&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it gives me pleasure,&rdquo; broke he in; &ldquo;I don't suspect that
+fellows of my age like to live like hermits. And whom do I ever see down
+here? Old Mills and old Tobin, and Larry Day, the dog-breaker. I ask his
+pardon for putting him last, for he is the best of the three. Girls can
+stand this sort of nun's life, but I 'll be hanged if it will do for us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then, Tom,&rdquo; resumed she, in the same tone, &ldquo;remember they are both
+perfect strangers. I doubt if you even know their names.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I do,&mdash;the old fellow is Sir Brook something or other. It 's
+not Fogey, but it begins like it; and the other is called Trafford,&mdash;Lionel,
+I think, is his Christian name. A glorious fellow, too; was in the 9th
+Lancers and in the blues, and is now here with the fifty&mdash;th because
+he went it too hard in the cavalry. He had a horse for the Derby two years
+ago.&rdquo; The tone of proud triumph in which he made this announcement seemed
+to say, Now, all discussion about him may cease. &ldquo;Not but,&rdquo; added he,
+after a pause, &ldquo;you might like the old fellow best; he has such a world of
+stories, and he draws so beautifully. The whole time we were in the boat
+he was sketching something; and he has a book full of odds and ends; a
+tea-party in China, quail-shooting in Java, a wedding in Candia,&mdash;I
+can't tell what more; but he 's to bring them up here with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was thinking, Tom, that it might be as well if you 'd go down and ask
+Dr. Mills to come to tea. It would take off some of the awkwardness of our
+receiving two strangers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But they 're not strangers, Lucy; not a bit of it. I call him Trafford,
+and he calls me Lendrick; and the old cove is the most familiar old fellow
+I ever met.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you said anything to Nicholas yet?&rdquo; asked she, in some eagerness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; and that's exactly what I want you to do for me. That old bear
+bullies us all, so that I can't trust myself to speak to him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, don't go away, and I'll send for him now;&rdquo; and she rang the bell as
+she spoke. A smart-looking lad answered the summons, to whom she said,
+&ldquo;Tell Nicholas I want him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take my advice, Lucy, and merely say there are two gentlemen coming to
+tea this evening; don't let the old villain think you are consulting him
+about it, or asking his advice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must do it my own way,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;only don't interrupt. Don't meddle,&mdash;mind
+that, Tom.&rdquo; The door opened, and a very short, thick-set old man, dressed
+in a black coat and waistcoat, and drab breeches and white stockings, with
+large shoe-buckles in his shoes, entered. His face was large and red, the
+mouth immensely wide, and the eyes far set from each other, his low
+forehead being shadowed by a wig of coarse red hair, which moved when he
+spoke, and seemed almost to possess a sort of independent vitality.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had been reading when he was summoned, and his spectacles had been
+pushed up over his forehead, while he still held the county paper in his
+hand,&mdash;a sort of proud protest against being disturbed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You heard that Miss Lucy sent for you?&rdquo; said Tom Lendrick, haughtily, as
+his eye fell upon the newspaper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did,&rdquo; was the curt answer, as the old fellow, with a nervous shake of
+the head, seemed to announce that he was ready for battle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What I wanted, Nicholas, was this,&rdquo; interposed the girl, in a voice of
+very winning sweetness; &ldquo;Mr. Tom has invited two gentlemen this evening to
+tea.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To tay!&rdquo; cried Nicholas, as if the fact staggered all credulity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, to tea; and I was thinking if you would go down to the town and get
+some biscuits, or a sponge-cake, perhaps&mdash;whatever, indeed, you
+thought best; and also beg Dr. Mills to step in, saying that as papa was
+away&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That you was going to give a ball?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No. Not exactly that, Nicholas,&rdquo; said she, smiling; &ldquo;but that two friends
+of my brother's&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where did he meet his friends?&rdquo; cried he, with a marked emphasis on
+the &ldquo;friends.&rdquo; &ldquo;Two strangers. God knows who or what! Poachers as like as
+anything else. The ould one might be worse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Enough of this,&rdquo; said Tom, sternly. &ldquo;Are you the master here? Go off,
+sir, and do what Miss Lucy has ordered you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will not,&mdash;the devil a step,&rdquo; said the old man, who now thrust the
+paper into a capacious pocket, and struck each hand on a hip. &ldquo;Is it when
+the 'Jidge' is dying, when the newpapers has a column of the names that 's
+calling to ask after him, you are to be carousing and feastin' here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear Nicholas, there's no question of feasting. It is simply a cup of tea
+we mean to give; sorely there's no carousing in that. And as to grandpapa,
+papa says that he was certainly better yesterday, and Dr. Beattie has
+hopes now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have n't, then, and I know him better than Dr. Beattie.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a pity they have n't sent for you for the consultation!&rdquo; said Tom,
+ironically.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And look here, Nicholas,&rdquo; said Lucy, drawing the old man towards the door
+of a small room that led off the drawing-room, &ldquo;we could have tea here; it
+will look less formal, and give less trouble; and Mears could wait,&mdash;he
+does it very well; and you need n't be put out at all.&rdquo; These last words
+fell to a whisper; but he was beyond reserve, beyond flattery. The last
+speech of her brother still rankled in his memory, and all that fell upon
+his ear since that fell unheeded.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was with your grandfather, Master Tom,&rdquo; said the old man, slowly,
+&ldquo;twenty-one years before you were born! I carried his bag down to Court
+the day he defended Neal O' Gorman for high treason, and I was with him
+the morning he shot Luke Dillon at Castle Knock; and this I 'll say and
+stand to, there 's not a man in Ireland, high or low, knows the Chief
+Baron better than myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It must be a great comfort to you both,&rdquo; said Tom; but his sister had
+laid her hand on his mouth and made the words unintelligible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll say to Mr. Mills, Nicholas,&rdquo; said she, in her most coaxing way,
+&ldquo;that I did not write, because I preferred sending my message by <i>you</i>,
+who could explain why I particularly wanted him this evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll go, Miss Lucy, resarving the point, as they say in the law,&mdash;resarving
+the point! because I don't give in that what you're doin' is right; and
+when the master comes home, I'm not goin' to defend it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We must bear up under that calamity as well as we can,&rdquo; said the young
+man, insolently; but Nicholas never looked towards or seemed to hear him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A barn-a-brack is better than a spongecake, because if there 's some of
+it left it does n't get stale, and one-and-six-pence will be enough; and I
+suppose you don't need a lamp?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Nicholas, I must say, I think it would be better; and two candles
+on the small table, and two on the piano.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why don't you mentiou a fiddler?&rdquo; said he, bitterly. &ldquo;If it's a ball,
+there ought to be music?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Unable to control himself longer, young Lendrick wrenched open the
+sash-door, and walked out into the lawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The devil such a family for temper from this to Bantry!&rdquo; said Nicholas;
+&ldquo;and here's the company comin' already, or I 'm mistaken. There 's a boat
+makin' for the landing-place with two men in the stern.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy implored him once more to lose no time on his errand, and hastened
+away to make some change in her dress to receive the strangers. Meanwhile
+Tom, having seen the boat, walked down to the shore to meet his friends.
+</p>
+<p>
+Both Sir Brook and Trafford were enthusiastic in their praises of the
+spot. Its natural beauty was indeed great, but taste and culture had
+rendered it a marvel of elegance and refinement. Not merely were the trees
+grouped with reference to foliage and tint, but the flower-beds were so
+arranged that the laws of color should be respected, and thus these plats
+of perfume were not less luxuriously rich in odor than they were
+captivating as pictures.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is all the governor's own doing,&rdquo; said Tom, proudly, &ldquo;and he is
+continually changing the disposition of the plants. He says variety is a
+law of the natural world, and it is our duty to imitate it. Here comes my
+sister, gentlemen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As though set in a beautiful frame, the lovely girl stood for an instant
+in the porch, where drooping honeysuckles and the tangled branches of a
+vine hung around her, and then came courteously to meet and welcome them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am in ecstasy with all I see here, Miss Lendrick,&rdquo; said Sir Brook. &ldquo;Old
+traveller that I am, I scarcely know where I have ever seen such a
+combination of beauty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa will be delighted to hear this,&rdquo; said she, with a pleasant smile;
+&ldquo;it is the flattery he loves best.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm always saying we could keep up a salmon-weir on the river for a
+tithe of what these carnations and primroses cost us,&rdquo; said Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, sir, if you had been in Eden you 'd have made it a market garden,&rdquo;
+ said the old man.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the governor was a Duke of Devonshire, all these-caprices might be
+pardonable; but my theory is, roast-beef before roses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While young Lendrick attached himself to Trafford, and took him here and
+there to show him the grounds, Sir Brook walked beside Lucy, who did the
+honors of the place with a most charming courtesy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am almost ashamed, sir,&rdquo; said she, as they turned towards the house,
+&ldquo;to have asked you to see such humble objects as these to which we attach
+value, for my brother tells me you are a great traveller; but it is just
+possible you have met in your journeys others who, like us, lived so much
+out of the world that they fancied they had the prettiest spot in it for
+their own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must not ask me what I think of all I have seen: here, Miss Lendrick,
+till my enthusiasm calms down;&rdquo; and his look of admiration, so palpably
+addressed to herself, sent a flush to her cheek. &ldquo;A man's belongings are
+his history,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, quickly turning the conversation into an
+easier channel: &ldquo;show me his study, his stable, his garden; let me see his
+hat, his cane, the volume he thrusts into his pocket, and I 'll make you
+an indifferent good guess about his daily doings.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me of papa's. Come here, Tom,&rdquo; cried she, as the two young men came
+towards her, &ldquo;and listen to a bit of divination.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay, I never promised a lecture. I offered a confidence,&rdquo; said he, in a
+half whisper; but she went on: &ldquo;Sir Brook says that he reads people pretty
+much as Cuvier pronounced on a mastodon, by some small minute detail that
+pertained to them. Here's Tom's cigar-case,&rdquo; said she, taking it from his
+pocket; &ldquo;what do you infer from that, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That he smokes the most execrable tobacco.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But can you say why?&rdquo; asked Tom, with a sly twinkle of his eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Probably for the same reason I do myself,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, producing a
+very cheap cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, that's a veritable Cuban compared to one of mine,&rdquo; cried Tom; &ldquo;and by
+way of making my future life miserable, here has been Mr. Trafford filling
+my pocket with real havannahs, giving me a taste for luxuries I ought
+never to have known of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Know everything, sir, go everywhere, see all that the world can show you;
+the wider a man's experiences the larger his nature and the more open his
+heart,&rdquo; said Foss-brooke, boldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like the theory,&rdquo; said Trafford to Miss Lendrick; &ldquo;do you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Brook never meant it for women, I fancy,&rdquo; said she, in a low tone;
+but the old man overheard her, and said: &ldquo;You are right. The guide ought
+to know every part of the mountain; the traveller need only know the
+path.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here comes a guide who is satisfied with very short excursions,&rdquo; cried
+Tom, laughing; &ldquo;this is our parson, Dr. Mills.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The little, mellow-looking, well-cared-for person who now joined them was
+a perfect type of old-bachelorhood, in its aspect of not unpleasant
+selfishness. Everything about him was neat, orderly, and appropriate; and
+though you saw at a glance it was all for himself and his own enjoyment it
+was provided, his good manners and courtesy were ever ready to extend its
+benefits to others; and a certain genial look he wore, and a manner that
+nature had gifted him with, did him right good service in life, and made
+him pass for &ldquo;an excellent fellow, though not much of a parson.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He was of use now, if only that by his presence Lucy felt more at ease,
+not to say that his violoncello, which always remained at the Nest, made a
+pleasant accompaniment when she played, and that he sang with much taste
+some of those lyrics which arc as much linked to Ireland by poetry as by
+music.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish he was our chaplain,&mdash;by Jove I do!&rdquo; whispered Trafford to
+Lendrick; &ldquo;he's the jolliest fellow of his cloth I have ever met.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And such a cook,&rdquo; muttered the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A cook!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, a cook. I 'll make him ask us to dinner, and you 'll tell me if you
+ever ate fish as he gives it, or tasted macaroni as dressed by him. I have
+a salmon for you, doctor, a ten-pound fish. I wish it were bigger! but it
+is in splendid order.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you set it?&rdquo; asked the parson, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does he mean by set it?&rdquo; whispered Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Setting means plunging it in very hot water soon after killing it, to
+preserve and harden the 'curd.' Yes; and I took your hint about the
+arbutus leaves, too, doctor. I covered it all up with them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a teachable youth, and shall be rewarded. Come and eat him
+to-morrow. Dare I hope that these gentlemen are disengaged, and will honor
+my poor parsonage? Will you favor me with your company at five o'clock,
+sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook bowed, and accepted the invitation with pleasure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only too happy,&rdquo; said Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy, my dear, you must be one of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I could not; it is impossible, doctor,&mdash;you know it is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing of the kind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa away,&mdash;not to speak of his never encouraging us to leave home,&rdquo;
+ muttered she, in a whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I accept no excuses, Lucy; such a rare opportunity may not occur to me in
+a hurry. Mrs. Brennan, my housekeeper, will be so proud to see you, that I
+'m not sure she 'll not treat these gentlemen to her brandy peaches,&mdash;a
+delicacy, I feel bound to say, she has never conceded to any one less than
+the bishop of the diocese.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't ask me, doctor. I know that papa&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But he broke in, saying,&mdash;&ldquo;'You know I 'm your priest, and your
+conscience is mine;' and besides, I really do want to see how the
+parsonage will look with a lady at the top of the table: who knows what it
+may lead to?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Lucy, that's the nearest thing to a proposal I 've heard for some
+time. You really must go now,&rdquo; said Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa will not like it,&rdquo; whispered she in his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then he'll have to settle the matter with me, Lucy,&rdquo; said the doctor,
+&ldquo;for it was I who overruled you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't look to me, Miss Lendrick, to sustain you in your refusal,&rdquo; said
+Sir Brook, as the young girl turned towards him. &ldquo;I have the strongest
+interest in seeing the doctor successful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If Trafford said nothing, the glance he gave her more than backed the old
+man's speech, and she turned away half vexed, half pleased, puzzled how to
+act, and flattered at the same time by an amount of attention so new to
+her and so strange. Still she could not bring herself to promise she would
+go, and wished them all good-night at last, without a pledge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course she will,&rdquo; muttered Tom in the doctor's ear. &ldquo;She's afraid of
+the governor; but I know he'll not be displeased,&mdash;you may reckon on
+her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER V. THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND
+</h2>
+<p>
+From the day that Sir Brook made the acquaintance of Tom Lendrick and his
+sister, he determined he would &ldquo;pitch his tent,&rdquo; as he called it, for some
+time at Killaloe. They had, so to say, captivated the old man. The young
+fellow, by his frank, open, manly nature, his ardent love of sport in
+every shape, his invariable good-humor, and more than all these, by the
+unaffected simplicity of his character, had strongly interested him; while
+Lucy had made a far deeper impression by her gentleness, her refinement,
+an elegance in deportment that no teaching ever gives, and, along with
+these, a mind stored with thought and reflectiveness. Let us, however, be
+just to each, and own that her beauty and the marvellous fascination of
+her smile gave her, even in that old man's eyes, an irresistible charm. It
+was a very long bygone, but he had once been in love, and the faint
+flicker of the memory had yet survived in his heart. It was just as likely
+Lucy bore no resemblance to her he had loved, but he fancied she did,&mdash;he
+imagined that she was her very image. That was the smile, the glance, the
+tone, the gesture which once had set his heart a-throbbing, and the
+illusion threw around her an immense fascination.
+</p>
+<p>
+She liked him too. Through all the strange incongruities of his character,
+his restless love of adventure and excitement, there ran a gentle liking
+for quiet pleasures. He loved scenery passionately, and with a painter's
+taste for color and form; he loved poetry, which he read with a wondrous
+charm of voice and intonation. Nor was it without its peculiar power, this
+homage of an old, old man, who rendered her the attentive service of a
+devoted admirer.
+</p>
+<p>
+There is very subtle flattery in the obsequious devotion of age to youth.
+It is, at least, an honest worship, an unselfish offering, and in this way
+the object of it may well feel proud of its tribute.
+</p>
+<p>
+From the vicar, Dr. Mills, Fossbrooke had learned the chief events of Dr.
+Lendrick's history, of his estrangement from his father, his fastidious
+retirement from the world, and, last of all, his narrow fortune,
+apparently now growing narrower, since within the last year he had
+withdrawn his son from the University on the score of its expense.
+</p>
+<p>
+A gold-medallist and a scholar, Dr. Lendrick would have eagerly coveted
+such honors for his son. It was, probably, the one triumph in life he
+would have set most store by, but Tom was one not made for collegiate
+successes. He had abilities, but they were not teachable qualities; he
+could pick up a certain amount of almost anything,&mdash;he could learn
+nothing. He could carry away from a chance conversation an amount of
+knowledge it had cost the talkers years to acquire, and yet set him down
+regularly to work book-fashion, and either from want of energy, or
+concentration, or of that strong will which masters difficulties just as a
+full current carries all before it&mdash;whichever of these was his
+defect,&mdash;he arose from his task wearied, worn, but unadvanced.
+</p>
+<p>
+When, therefore, his father would speak, as he sometimes did, in
+confidence to the vicar, in a tone of depression about Tom's deficiencies,
+the honest parson would feel perfectly lost in amazement at what he meant.
+To his eyes Tom Lendrick was a wonder, a prodigy. There was not a theme he
+could not talk on, and talk well too. &ldquo;It was but the other day he told
+the chief engineer of the Shannon Company more about the geological
+formation of the river-basin than all his staff knew. Ay, and what's
+stranger,&rdquo; added the vicar, &ldquo;he understands the whole Colenso controversy
+better than I do myself.&rdquo; It is just possible that in the last panegyric
+there was nothing of exaggeration or excess. &ldquo;And with all that, sir, his
+father goes on brooding over his neglected education, and foreshadowing
+the worst results from his ignorance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is a fine fellow,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, &ldquo;but not to be compared with his
+sister.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not for mere looks, perhaps, nor for a graceful manner, and a winning
+address; but who would think of ranking Lucy's abilities with her
+brother's?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not I,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, boldly, &ldquo;for I place hers far and away above
+them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A sly twinkle of the parson's eye showed to what class of advantages he
+ascribed the other's preference; but he said no more, and the controversy
+ended.
+</p>
+<p>
+Every morning found Sir Brook at the &ldquo;Swan's Nest.&rdquo; He was fond of
+gardening, and had consummate taste in laying out ground, so that many
+pleasant surprises had been prepared for Dr. Lendrick's return. He drew,
+too, with great skill, and Lucy made considerable progress under his
+teaching; and as they grew more intimate, and she was not ashamed of the
+confession that she delighted in the Georgics of Virgil, they read whole
+hours together of those picturesque descriptions of rural life and its
+occupations, which are as true to nature at this hour as on the day they
+were written.
+</p>
+<p>
+Perhaps the old man fancied that it was he who had suggested this intense
+appreciation of the poet. It is just possible that the young girl believed
+that she had reclaimed a wild, erratic, eccentric nature, and brought him
+back ta the love of simple pleasures and a purer source of enjoyment.
+Whichever way the truth inclined, each was happy, each contented. And how
+fond are we all, of every age, of playing the missionary, of setting off
+into the savage districts of our neighbors' natures and combating their
+false idols, their superstitions and strange rites! The least adventurous
+and the least imaginative have these little outbursts of conversion, and
+all are more or less propagandists.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was one morning, a bright and glorious one too, that, while Tom and
+Lucy were yet at breakfast, Sir Brook arrived and entered the
+breakfast-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a day for a gray hackle, in that dark pool under the larch-trees!&rdquo;
+ cried Tom, as he saw him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a day for a long walk to Mount Laurel!&rdquo; said Lucy. &ldquo;You said,
+t'other morning, you wanted cloud effects on the upper lake. I 'll show
+you splendid ones to-day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll promise you a full basket before four o'clock,&rdquo; broke in Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll promise you a full sketch-book,&rdquo; said Lucy, with one of her
+sweetest smiles.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I 'm going to refuse both; for I have a plan of my own, and a plan
+not to be gainsaid.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it, You want us to go to work on that fish-pond. I'm certain it's
+that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Tom; it's the catalogue,&mdash;the weary catalogue that he told me,
+as a punishment for not being able to find Machiavelli's comedies last
+week, he 'd make me sit down to on the first lovely morning that came.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better that than those dreary Georgics which remind one of school, and
+the third form. But what 's your plan, Sir Brook? We have thought of all
+the projects that can terrify us, and you look as if it ought to be a
+terror.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine is a plan for pleasure, and pleasure only; so pack up at once and
+get ready. Trafford arrived this morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is he? I am so glad! Where's Trafford?&rdquo; cried Tom, delighted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have despatched him with the vicar and two well-filled hampers to Holy
+Island, where I mean that we shall all picnic. There 's my plan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And a jolly plan too! I adhere unconditionally.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you, Lucy, what do you say?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, as the young girl stood
+with a look of some indecision and embarrassment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't say that it's not a very pleasant project, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what, Lucy? Where 's the but?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She whispered a few words in his ear, and he cried out: &ldquo;Is n't this too
+bad? She tells me Nicholas does not like all this gayety; that Nicholas
+disapproves of our mode of life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Tom; I only said Nicholas thinks that papa would not like it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn't we see Nicholas? Couldn't we have a commission to examine
+Nicholas?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, laughingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll not be on it, that 's all I know; for I should finish by chucking
+the witness into the Shannon. Come along, Lucy; don't let us lose this
+glorious morning. I 'll get some lines and hooks together. Be sure you 're
+ready when I come back.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As the door closed after him, Sir Brook drew near to Lucy, where she stood
+in an attitude of doubt and hesitation. &ldquo;I mustn't risk your good opinion
+of me rashly. If you really dislike this excursion, I will give it up,&rdquo;
+ said he, in a low, gentle voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dislike it? No; far from it. I suspect I would enjoy it more than any of
+you. My reluctance was simply on the ground that all this is so unlike the
+life we have been leading hitherto. Papa will surely disapprove of it. Oh,
+there comes Nicholas with a letter!&rdquo; cried she, opening the sash-window.
+&ldquo;Give it to me; it is from papa.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She broke the seal hurriedly, and ran rapidly over the lines. &ldquo;Oh, yes! I
+will go now, and go with delight too. It is full of good news. He is to
+see grandpapa, if not to-morrow, the day after. He hopes all will be well.
+Papa knows your name, Sir Brook. He says, 'Ask your friend Sir Brook if he
+be any relative of a Sir Brook Foss-brooke who rescued Captain Langton
+some forty years ago from a Neapolitan prison. The print-shops were filled
+with his likeness when I was a boy.' Was he one of your family?&rdquo; inquired
+she, looking at him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am the man,&rdquo; said he, calmly and coldly. &ldquo;Langton was sentenced to the
+galleys for life for having struck the Count d'Aconi across the face with
+his glove; and the Count was nephew to the King. They had him at Capri
+working in chains, and I landed with my yacht's crew and liberated him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a daring thing to do!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not so daring as you fancy. The guard was surprised, and fled. It was
+only when reinforced that they showed fight. Our toughest enemies were the
+galley-slaves, who, when they discovered that we never meant to liberate
+them, attacked us with stones. This scar on my temple is a memorial of the
+affair.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Langton, what became of him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is now Lord Burrowfield. He gave me two fingers to shake the last time
+I met him at the Travellers'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, don't say that! Oh, don't tell me of such ingratitude!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear child, people usually regard gratitude as a debt which, once
+acknowledged, is acquitted; and perhaps they are right. It makes all
+intercourse freer and less trammelled.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here comes Tom. May I tell him this story, or will you tell him
+yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not either, my dear Lucy. Your brother's blood is over-hot as it is. Let
+him not have any promptings to such exploits as these.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But may I tell papa?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as well not, Lucy. There were scores of wild things attributed to me
+in those days. He may possibly remember some of them, and begin to suspect
+that his daughter might be in better company.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How was it that you never told me of this exploit?&rdquo; asked she, looking,
+not without admiration, at the hard stern features before her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear child, egotism is the besetting sin of old people, and even the
+most cautious lapse into it occasionally. Set me once a-talking of myself,
+all my prudence, all my reserve vanishes; so that, as a measure of safety
+for my friends and myself too, I avoid the theme when I can. There! Tom is
+beckoning to us. Let us go to him at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Holy Island, or Inishcaltra, to give it its Irish name, is a wild spot,
+with little remarkable about it, save the ruins of seven churches and a
+curious well of fabulous depth. It was, however, a favorite spot with the
+vicar, whose taste in localities was somehow always associated with some
+feature of festivity, the great merit of the present spot being that you
+could dine without any molestation from beggars. In such estimation,
+indeed, did he hold the class, that he seriously believed their craving
+importunity to be one of the chief reasons of dyspepsia, and was
+profoundly convinced that the presence of Lazarus at his gate
+counterbalanced many of the goods which fortune had bestowed upon Dives.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here we dine in real comfort,&rdquo; said he, as he seated himself under the
+shelter of an ivy-covered wall, with a wide reach of the lake at his feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I come back from California with that million or two,&rdquo; said Tom, &ldquo;I
+'ll build a cottage here, where we can all come and dine continually.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us keep the anniversary of the present day as a sort of foundation
+era,&rdquo; said the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like everything that promises pleasure,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, &ldquo;but I like to
+stipulate that we do not draw too long a bill on Fortune. Think how long a
+year is. This time twelvemonth, for example, you, my dear doctor, may be a
+bishop, and not over inclined to these harmless levities. Tom there will
+be, as he hints, gold-crushing, at the end of the earth. Trafford, not
+improbably, ruling some rajah's kingdom in the far East. Of your destiny,
+fair Lucy, brightest of all, it is not for me to speak. Of my own it is
+not worth speaking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nolo episcopari,&rdquo; said the vicar; &ldquo;pass me the Madeira.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You forget, perhaps, that is the phrase for accepting the mitre,&rdquo; said
+Sir Brook, laughing. &ldquo;Bishops, like belles, say 'No' when they mean
+'Yes.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who told you that belles did?&rdquo; broke in Lucy. &ldquo;I am in a sad minority
+here, but I stand up for my sex.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I repeat a popular prejudice, fair lady.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Lucy will not have it that belles are as illogical as bishops? I see
+I was right in refusing the bench,&rdquo; said the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What bright boon of Fortune is Trafford meditating the rejection of?&rdquo;
+ said Sir Brook; and the young fellow's cheek grew crimson as he tried to
+laugh off the reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who made this salad?&rdquo; cried Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was I; who dares to question it?&rdquo; said Lucy. &ldquo;The doctor has helped
+himself twice to it, and that test I take to be a certificate to
+character.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I used to have some skill in dressing a salad, but I have foregone the
+practice for many a day; my culinary gift got me sent out of Austria in
+twenty-four hours. Oh, it 's nothing that deserves the name of a story,&rdquo;
+ said Sir Brook, as the others looked at him for an explanation. &ldquo;It was as
+long ago as the year 1806. Sir Robert Adair had been our minister at
+Vienna, when, a rupture taking place between the two Governments, he was
+recalled. He did not, however, return to England, but continued to live as
+a private citizen at Vienna. Strangely enough, from the moment that our
+embassy ceased to be recognized by the Government, our countrymen became
+objects of especial civility. I myself, amongst the rest, was the <i>bien-venu</i>
+in some of the great houses, and even invited by Count Cobourg Cohari to
+those <i>déjeuners</i> which he gave with such splendor at Maria Hülfe.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At one of these, as a dish of salad was handed round, instead of eating
+it, like the others, I proceeded to make a very complicated dressing for
+it on my plate, calling for various condiments, and seasoning my mess in a
+most refined and ingenious manner. No sooner had I given the finishing
+touch to my great achievement than the Grand-Duchess Sophia, who it seems
+had watched the whole performance, sent a servant round to beg that I
+would send her my plate. She accompanied the request with a little bow and
+a smile whose charm I can still recall. Whatever the reason, before I
+awoke next morning, an agent of the police entered my room and informed me
+my passports were made out for Dresden, and that his orders were to give
+me the pleasure of his society till I crossed the frontier. There was no
+minister, no envoy to appeal to, and nothing left but to comply. They said
+'Go,' and I went.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all for a dish of salad!&rdquo; cried the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All for the bright eyes of an archduchess, rather,&rdquo; broke in Lucy,
+laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man's grateful smile at the compliment to his gallantry showed
+how, even in a heart so world-worn, the vanity of youth survived.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare it was very hard,&rdquo; said Tom,&mdash;&ldquo;precious hard.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you mean to give up the salad, so think I too,&rdquo; cried the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll be shot if I 'd have gone,&rdquo; broke in Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'd probably have been shot if you had stayed,&rdquo; replied Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are things we submit to in life, not because the penalty of
+resistance affrights us, but because we half acquiesce in their justice.
+You, for instance, Trafford, are well pleased to be here on leave, and
+enjoy yourself, as I take it, considerably; and yet the call of duty&mdash;some
+very commonplace duty, perhaps&mdash;would make you return tomorrow in all
+haste.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it would,&rdquo; said Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not so sure of it,&rdquo; murmured Trafford, sullenly; &ldquo;I 'd rather go
+into close arrest for a week than I 'd lose this day here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bravo! here's your health, Lionel,&rdquo; cried Tom. &ldquo;I do like to hear a
+fellow say he is willing to pay the cost of what pleases him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must preach wholesome doctrine, my young friends,&rdquo; broke in the vicar.
+&ldquo;Now that we have dined well, I would like to say aword on abstinence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean to take no coffee, doctor, then?&rdquo; asked Lucy, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I do, my sweet child,&mdash;coffee and a pipe, too, for I know you
+are tolerant of tobacco.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope she is,&rdquo; said Tom, &ldquo;or she 'd have a poor time of it in the house
+with me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll put no coercion upon my tastes on this occasion, for I 'll take a
+stroll through the ruins, and leave you to your wine,&rdquo; said she, rising.
+</p>
+<p>
+They protested, in a mass, against her going. &ldquo;We cannot lock the door,
+Lucy, <i>de facto</i>,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, &ldquo;but we do it figuratively.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And in that case I make my escape by the window,&rdquo; said she, springing
+through an old lancet-shaped orifice in the Abbey wall.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There goes down the sun and leaves us but a gray twilight,&rdquo; said Sir
+Brook, mournfully, as he looked after her. &ldquo;If there were only enough
+beauty on earth, I verily believe we might dispense with parsons.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Push me over the bird's-eye, and let me nourish myself till your
+millennium comes,&rdquo; said the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a charming girl she is! her very beauty fades away before the
+graceful attraction of her manner!&rdquo; whispered Sir Brook to the doctor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, if you but knew her as I do! If you but knew how, sacrificing all the
+springtime of her bright youth, she has never had a thought save to make
+herself the companion of her poor father,&mdash;a sad, depressed,
+sorrow-struck man, only rescued from despair by that companionship! I tell
+you, sir, there is more courage in submitting one's self to the nature of
+another than in facing a battery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook grasped the parson's hand and shook it cordially. The action
+spoke more than any words. &ldquo;And the brother, doctor,&mdash;what say you of
+the brother?&rdquo; whispered he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One of those that the old adage says 'either makes a spoon or spoils the
+horn.' That 's Master Tom there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Low as the words were uttered, they caught the sharp ears of him they
+spoke of, and with a laughing eye he cried out, &ldquo;What 's that evil
+prediction you 're uttering about me, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am just telling Sir Brook here that it's pure head or tail how you turn
+out. There's stuff in you to make a hero, but it's just as likely you 'll
+stop short at a highwayman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I could guess which of the two would best suit the age we live
+in,&rdquo; said Tom, gayly. &ldquo;Are we to have another bottle of that Madeira, for
+I suspect I see the doctor putting up the corkscrew?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are to have no more wine than what's before you till you land me at
+the quay of Killaloe. When temperance means safety as well as forbearance,
+it's one of the first of virtues.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The vicar, indeed, soon grew impatient to depart. Fine as the evening was
+then, it might change. There was a feeling, too, not of damp, but
+chilliness; at all events, he was averse to being on the water late; and
+as he was the great promoter of these little convivial gatherings, his
+word was law.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="062 (96K)" src="images/062.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+It is not easy to explain how it happened that Trafford sat beside Lucy.
+Perhaps the trim of the boat required it; certainly, however, nothing
+required that the vicar, who sat next Lucy on the other side, should fall
+fast asleep almost as soon as he set foot on board. Meanwhile Sir Brook
+and Tom had engaged in an animated discussion as to the possibility of
+settling in Ireland as a man settles in some lone island in the Pacific,
+teaching the natives a few of the needs of civilization and picking up a
+few convenient ways of theirs in turn, Sir Brook warming with the theme so
+far as to exclaim at last, &ldquo;If I only had a few of those thousands left me
+which I lost, squandered, or gave away, I 'd try the scheme, and you
+should be my lieutenant, Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was one of those projects, very pleasant in their way, where men can
+mingle the serious with the ludicrous, where actual wisdom may go hand in
+hand with downright absurdity; and so did they both understand it,
+mingling, the very sagest reflections with projects the wildest and most
+eccentric. Their life, as they sketched it, was to be almost savage in
+freedom, untrammelled by all the tiresome conventionalities of the outer
+world, and at the same time offering such an example of contentedness and
+comfort as to shame the condition of all without the Pale.
+</p>
+<p>
+They agreed that the vicar must join them; he should be their Bishop. He
+might grumble a little at first about the want of hot plates or
+finger-glasses, but he would soon fall into their ways, and some native
+squaw would console him for the loss of Mrs. Brennan's housekeeping gifts.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Trafford and Lucy all this time,&mdash;what did they talk of? Did
+they, too, imagine a future and plan out a life-road in company? Far too
+timid for that,&mdash;they lingered over the past, each asking some trait
+of the other's childhood, eager to hear any little incident which might
+mark character or indicate temper. And at last they came down to the
+present,&mdash;to the very hour they lived in, and laughingly wondered at
+the intimacy that had grown up between them. &ldquo;Only twelve days to-morrow
+since we first met,&rdquo; said Lucy, and her color rose as she said it, &ldquo;and
+here we are talking away as if&mdash;as if&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As if what?&rdquo; cried he, only by an effort suppressing her name as it rose
+to his lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As if we knew each other for years. To me it seems the strangest thing in
+the world,&mdash;I who have never had friendships or companionships. To
+you, I have no doubt, it is common enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But it is not,&rdquo; cried he, eagerly. &ldquo;Such fortune never befell me before.
+I have gone a good deal into life,&mdash;seen scores of people in
+country-houses and the like; but I never met any one before I could speak
+to of myself,&mdash;I mean, that I had courage to tell&mdash;not that,
+exactly&mdash;but that I wanted them to know I was n't so bad a fellow&mdash;so
+reckless or so heartless as people thought me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is that the character you bear?&rdquo; said she, with, though not visible
+to him, a faint smile on her mouth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think it's what my family would say of me,&mdash;I mean now, for once
+on a time I was a favorite at home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why are you not still?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because I was extravagant; because I went into debt; because I got very
+easily into scrapes, and very badly out of them,&mdash;not dishonorably,
+mind; the scrapes I speak of were money troubles, and they brought me into
+collision with my governor. That was how it came about I was sent over
+here. They meant as a punishment what has turned out the greatest
+happiness of my life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How cold the water is!&rdquo; said Lucy, as, taking off her glove, she suffered
+her hand to dip in the water beside the boat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Deliciously cold,&rdquo; said he, as, plunging in his hand, he managed, as
+though by accident, to touch hers. She drew it rapidly away, however, and
+then, to prevent the conversation returning to its former channel, said
+aloud: &ldquo;What <i>are</i> you laughing over so heartily, Sir Brook? You and
+Tom appear to have fallen upon a mine of drollery. Do share it with us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall hear it all one of these days, Lucy. Jog the doctor's arm now
+and wake him up, for I see the lights at the boat-house, and we shall soon
+be on shore.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And sorry I am for it,&rdquo; muttered Trafford, in a whisper; &ldquo;I wish this
+night could be drawn out to years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VI. WAITING ON
+</h2>
+<p>
+On the sixth day after Dr. Lendrick's arrival in Dublin&mdash;a fruitless
+journey so far as any hope of reconciliation was concerned&mdash;he
+resolved to return home. His friend Beattie, however, induced him to delay
+his departure to the-next day, clinging to some small hope from a few
+words-that had dropped from Sir William on that same morning. &ldquo;Let me see
+you to-night, doctor; I have a note to show you which I could not to-day
+with all these people about me.&rdquo; Now, the people in question resolved
+themselves into one person, Lady Lendrick, who indeed bustled into the
+room and out of it, slammed doors and upset chairs in a fashion that might
+well have excused the exaggeration that converted her into a noun of
+multitude. A very warm altercation had occurred, too, in the doctor's
+presence with reference to some letter from India, which Lady Lendrick was
+urging Sir William to reply to, but which he firmly declared he would not
+answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I am to treat a man subject to such attacks of temper, so easily
+provoked, and so incessantly irritated, is not clear to me. At all events
+I will see him to-night, and hear what he has to say to me. I am sure it
+has no concern with this letter from India.&rdquo; With these words Beattie
+induced his friend to defer his journey for another day.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was a long and anxious day to poor Lendrick. It was not alone that he
+had to suffer the bitter disappointment of all his hopes of being received
+by his father and admitted to some gleam of future favor, but he had
+discovered that certain debts which he had believed long settled by the
+judge were still outstanding against him, Lady Lendrick having interfered
+to prevent their payment, while she assured the creditors that if they had
+patience Dr. Lendrick would one day or other be in a position to acquit
+them. Between two and three thousand pounds thus hung over him of
+indebtedness above all his calculations, and equally above all his ability
+to meet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We thought you knew all this, Dr. Lendrick,&rdquo; said Mr. Hack, Sir William's
+agent; &ldquo;we imagined you were a party to the arrangement, understanding
+that you were reluctant to bring these debts under the Chief Baron's eyes,
+being moneys lent to your wife's relations.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believed that they were paid,&rdquo; was all his reply, for the story was a
+painful one of trust betrayed and confidence abused, and he did not desire
+to revive it. He had often been told that his stepmother was the real
+obstacle to all hope of reconciliation with his father, but that she had
+pushed her enmity to him to the extent of his ruin was more than he was
+prepared for. They had never met, but at one time letters had frequently
+passed between them. Hers were marvels of good wishes and kind intentions,
+dashed with certain melancholy reflections over some shadowy unknown
+something which had been the cause of his estrangement from his father,
+but which time and endurance might not impossibly diminish the bitterness
+of, though with very little hope of leading to a more amicable relation.
+She would assume, besides, occasionally a kind of companionship in sorrow,
+and, as though the confession had burst from her unawares, avow that Sir
+William's temper was more than human nature was called upon to submit to,
+and that years only added to those violent outbursts of passion which made
+the existence of all around him a perpetual martyrdom. These always wound
+up with some sweet congratulations on &ldquo;Tom's good fortune in his life of
+peaceful retirement,&rdquo; and the &ldquo;tranquil pleasures of that charming spot of
+which every one tells me such wonders, and which the hope of visiting is
+one of my most entrancing daydreams.&rdquo; We give the passage textually,
+because it occurred without a change of a word thus in no less than five
+different letters.
+</p>
+<p>
+This formal repetition of a phrase, and certain mistakes she made about
+the names of his children, first opened Lendrick's eyes as to the
+sincerity and affection of his correspondent, for he was the least
+suspicious of men, and regarded distrust as a disgrace to him who
+entertained it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Over all these things now did he ponder during this long dreary day. He
+did not like to go out lest he should meet old acquaintances and be
+interrogated about his father, of whom he knew less than almost every one.
+He shunned the tone of compassionate interest men met him with, and he
+dreaded even the old faces that reminded him of the past. He could not
+read: he tried, but could not. After a few minutes he found that his
+thoughts wandered off from the book and centred on his own concerns, till
+his head ached with the weary round of those difficulties which came ever
+back, and back, and back again undiminished, unrelieved, and unsolved. The
+embarrassments of life are not, like chess problems, to be resolved by a
+skilful combination: they are to be encountered by temper, by patience, by
+daring at one time, by submission at another, by a careful consideration
+of a man's own powers, and by a clear-sighted estimate of his neighbors;
+and all these exercised not beforehand, nor in retirement, but on the very
+field itself where the conflict is raging and the fight at its hottest.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was late at night when Beattie returned home, and entered the study
+where Lendrick sat awaiting him. &ldquo;I am very late, Tom,&rdquo; said he, as he
+threw himself into an arm-chair, like one fatigued and exhausted; &ldquo;but it
+was impossible to get away. Never in all my life have I seen him so full
+of anecdote, so abounding in pleasant recollections, so ready-witted, and
+so brilliant. I declare to you that if I could but recite the things he
+said, or give them even with a faint semblance of the way he told them, it
+would be the most amusing page of bygone Irish history. It was a grand
+review of all the celebrated men whom he remembered in his youth, from the
+eccentric Lord Bristol, the Bishop of Down, to O'Connell and Shiel. Nor
+did his own self-estimate, high as it was, make the picture in which he
+figured less striking, nor less memorable his concluding words, as he
+said, 'These fellows are all in history, Beattie,&mdash;every man of them.
+There are statues to them in our highways, and men visit the spots that
+gave them birth; and here am I, second to none of them. Trinity College
+and the Four Courts will tell you if I speak in vanity; and here am I; and
+the only question about me is, when I intend to vacate the bench, when it
+will be my good pleasure to resign&mdash;they are not particular which&mdash;my
+judgeship or my life. But, sir, I mean not to do either; I mean to live
+and protest against the inferiority of the men around me, and the
+ingratitude of the country that does not know how to appreciate the one
+man of eminence it possesses.' I assure you, Tom, vain and insolent as the
+speech was, as I listened I thought it was neither. There was a haughty
+dignity about him, to which his noble bead and his deep sonorous voice and
+his commanding look lent effect that overcame all thought of attributing
+to such a man any over-estimate of his powers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this note that he wished to show you,&mdash;what was it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, the note was a few lines written in an adjoining room by Balfour, the
+Viceroy's secretary. It seems that his Excellency, finding all other
+seductions fail, thought of approaching your father through you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Through <i>me!</i> It was a bright inspiration.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he sent Balfour to ask if the Chief Baron would feel gratified by
+the post of Hospital Inspector at the Cape being offered to you. It is
+worth eight hundred a year, and a house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what answer did he give?&rdquo; asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He directed Balfour, who only saw Lady Lendrick, to reduce the proposal
+to writing. I don't fancy that the accomplished young gentleman exactly
+liked the task, but he did not care to refuse, and so he sat down and
+wrote one of the worst notes I ever read.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worst&mdash;in what way?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In every way. It was scarcely intelligible, without a previous knowledge
+of its contents, and so worded as to imply that when the Chief Baron had
+acceded to the proposal, he had so bound himself in gratitude to the
+Government that all honorable retreat was closed to him. I wish you saw
+your father's face when he read it. 'Beattie,' said he, 'I have no right
+to say Tom must refuse this offer; but if he should do so, I will make the
+document you see there be read in the House, and my name is not William
+Lendrick if it do not cost them more than they are prepared for. Go now
+and consult your friend;' it was so he called you. 'If his wants are such
+that this place is of consequence to him, let him accept it. I shall not
+ask his reasons for whatever course he may take. <i>My</i> reply is
+already written, and to his Excellency in person.' This he said in a way
+to imply that its tone was one not remarkable for conciliation or
+courtesy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought the opportunity a favorable one to say that you were in town at
+the moment, that the accounts of his illness had brought you up, and that
+you were staying at my house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'The sooner will you be able to communicate with him, sir,' said he,
+haughtily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No more than that!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No more, except that he added, 'Remember, sir, his acceptance or his
+refusal is to be his own act, not to be intimated in any way to me, nor to
+come through me.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is unnecessary harshness,&rdquo; said Lendrick, with a quivering lip;
+&ldquo;there was no need to tell me how estranged we are from each other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I fancied I could detect a struggle with himself in all his sternness;
+and his hand trembled when I took it to say 'good-bye.' I was going to ask
+if you might not be permitted to see him, even for a brief moment; but I
+was afraid, lest in refusing he might make a reconciliation still more
+remote, and so I merely said, 'May I leave you those miniatures I showed
+you a few days ago? 'His answer was, 'You may leave them, sir.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I came down to the hall, I met Lady Lendrick. She was in evening
+dress, going out, but had evidently waited to Catch me as I passed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You find the Chief much better, don't you?' asked she. I bowed and
+assented.. 'And he will be better still,' added she, 'when all these
+anxieties are over.' She saw that I did not or would not apprehend her
+meaning, and added, 'I mean about this resignation, which, of course, you
+will advise him to. The Government are really behaving so very well, so
+liberal, and withal so delicate. If they had been our own people, I doubt
+if they would have shown anything like the same generosity.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I have heard of nothing but the offer to Dr. Lendrick,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She seemed confused, and moved on; and then recovering herself, said,
+'And a most handsome offer it is. I hope he thinks so.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With this we parted, and I believe now I have told you almost word for
+word everything that occurred concerning you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do <i>you</i> say to all this, Beattie?&rdquo; asked Lendrick, in a
+half-sad tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say that if in your place, Tom, I would accept. It may be that the
+Chief Baron will interpose and say, Don't go; or it may be that your
+readiness to work for your bread should conciliate him; he has long had
+the impression that you are indisposed to exertion, and too fond of your
+own ease.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it,&mdash;I know it; Lady Lendrick has intimated as much to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At all events, you can make no mistake in entertaining the project; and
+certainly the offer is not to be despised.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is of him, and of him alone, I am thinking, Beattie. If he would let
+me see him, admit me once more on my old terms of affection, I would go
+anywhere, do anything that he counselled. Try, my dear friend, to bring
+this about; do your best for me, and remember I will subscribe to any
+terms, submit to anything, if he will only be reconciled to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It will be hard if we cannot manage this somehow,&rdquo; said Beattie; &ldquo;but now
+let us to bed. It is past two o'clock. Good-night, Tom; sleep well, and
+don't dream of the Cape or the Caffres.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VII. THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOR
+</h2>
+<p>
+That ancient and incongruous pile which goes by the name of the Castle in
+Dublin, and to which Irishmen very generally look as the well from which
+all honors and places flow, is not remarkable for either the splendor or
+space it affords to the inmates beneath its roof. Upheld by a great
+prestige perhaps, as in the case of certain distinguished people, who
+affect a humble exterior and very simple belongings, it may deem that its
+own transcendent importance has no need of accessories. Certainly the
+ugliness of its outside is in noway unbalanced by the meanness within; and
+even the very highest of those who claim its hospitality are lodged in
+no-princely fashion.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a corner of the old red brick quadrangle, to the right of the state
+entrance, in a small room whose two narrow windows looked into a lane, sat
+a very well-dressed young-gentleman at a writing-table. Short, and
+disposed to roundness in face as well as figure, Mr. Cholmondely Balfour
+scarcely responded in appearance to his imposing name. Nature had not been
+as bountiful, perhaps, as Fortune; for while he was rich, well born, and
+considerably gifted in abilities, his features were unmistakably common
+and vulgar, and all the aids of dress could not atone for the meanness in
+his general look. Had he simply accepted his image as a thing to be
+quietly borne and submitted to, the case might not have been so very bad;
+but he took it as something to be corrected, changed, and ameliorated, and
+the result was a perpetual struggle to make the most ordinary traits and
+commonplace features appear the impress of one on whom Nature had written
+gentleman. It would have been no easy task to have imposed on him in a
+question of his duty. He was the private secretary of the Viceroy, who was
+his maternal uncle. It would have been a tough task to have misled or
+deceived him in any matter open to his intelligence to examine; but upon
+this theme there was not the inventor of a hair-wash, a skin-paste, a
+whisker-dye, or a pearl-powder that might not have led him captive. A
+bishop might have found difficulty in getting audience of him,&mdash;a
+barber might have entered unannounced; and while the lieutenant of a
+county sat waiting in the antechamber, the tailor, with a new waistcoat
+pattern, walked boldly into the august presence. Entering life by that <i>petite
+porte</i> of politics, an Irish office, he had conceived a very humble
+estimate of the people amongst whom he was placed. Regarding his
+extradition from Whitehall and its precincts as a sort of probationary
+banishment, he felt, however, its necessity; and as naval men are
+accredited with two years of service for every one year on the coast of
+Africa, Mr. Balfour was aware that a grateful Government could equally
+recognize the devotion of him who gave some of the years of his youth to
+the Fernando Po of statecraft.
+</p>
+<p>
+This impression, being rarely personal in its consequences, was not of
+much moment; but it was conjoined with a more serious error, which was to
+imagine that all rule and governance in Ireland should be carried on with
+a Machiavellian subtlety. The people, he had heard, were quick-witted; he
+must therefore out-manoeuvre them. Jobbery had been, he was told, the ruin
+of Ireland; he would show its inefficiency by the superior skill with
+which he could wield its weapon. To be sure his office was a very minor
+one, its influence very restricted, but Mr. Balfour was ambitious; he was
+a Viceroy's nephew; he had sat for months in the House, from which he had
+been turned out on a petition. He had therefore social advantages to build
+on, abilities to display, and wrongs to avenge; and as a man too late for
+the train speculates during the day how far on his road he might have been
+by this time or by that, so did Mr. Balfour continually keep reminding
+himself how, but for that confounded petition, he might now have been a
+Treasury this or a Board of Trade that,&mdash;a corporal, in fact, in that
+great army whose commissioned officers are amongst the highest in Europe.
+</p>
+<p>
+Let us now present him to our reader, as he lay back in his chair, and by
+a hand-bell summoned his messenger.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, Watkins, when Clancey calls about those trousers show him in, and
+send some one over to the packet-office about the phosphorus blacking; you
+know we are on the last jar of it. If the Solicitor-General should come&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is here, sir; he has been waiting these twenty minutes. I told him you
+were with his Excellency.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I was,&mdash;so I always am,&rdquo; said he, throwing a half-smoked cigar
+into the fire. &ldquo;Admit him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A pale, care-worn, anxious-looking man, whose face was not without traces
+of annoyance at the length of time he had been kept waiting, now entered
+and sat down.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just where we were yesterday, Pemberton,&rdquo; said Balfour, as he rose and
+stood with his back to the fire, the tails of his gorgeous dressing-gown
+hanging over his arms. &ldquo;Intractable as he ever was; he won't die, and he
+won't resign.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His friends say he is perfectly willing to resign if you agree to his
+terms.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That may be possible; the question is, What are his terms? Have you a
+precedent of a Chief Baron being raised to the peerage?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not, as I understand, the peerage he insists on; he inclines to a
+moneyed arrangement.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are too poor, Pemberton,&mdash;we are too poor. There's a deep gap in
+our customs this quarter. It's reduction we must think of, not outlay.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the changes <i>are</i> to be made,&rdquo; said the other, with a tone of
+impatience, &ldquo;I certainly ought to be told at once, or I shall have no time
+left for my canvass.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An Irish borough, Pemberton,&mdash;an Irish borough requires so little,&rdquo;
+ said Balfour, with a compassionate smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such is not the opinion over here, sir,&rdquo; said Pemberton, stiffly; &ldquo;and I
+might even suggest some caution in saying it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Caution is the badge of all our tribe,&rdquo; said Balfour, with a burlesque
+gravity. &ldquo;By the way, Pemberton, his Excellency is greatly disappointed at
+the issue of these Cork trials; why did n't you hang these fellows?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Juries can no more be coerced here than in England; they brought them in
+not guilty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We know all that, and we ask you why? There certainly was little room for
+doubt in the evidence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When you have lived longer in Ireland, Mr. Balfour, you will learn that
+there are other considerations in a trial than the testimony of the
+witnesses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's exactly what I said to his Excellency; and I remarked, 'If
+Pemberton comes into the House, he must prepare for a sharp attack about
+these trials.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And it is exactly to ascertain if I am to enter Parliament that I have
+come here to-day,&rdquo; said the other, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bring me the grateful tidings that the Lord Chief Baron has joined his
+illustrious predecessors in that distinguished court, I 'll answer you in
+five minutes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie declares he is better this morning. He says that he has in all
+probability years of life before him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's nothing so hard to kill as a judge, except it be an archbishop.
+I believe a sedentary life does it; they say if a fellow will sit still
+and never move he may live to any age.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Pemberton took an impatient turn up and down the room, and then wheeling
+about directly in front of Balfour, said, &ldquo;If his Excellency knew,
+perhaps, that I do not want the House of Commons&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not want the House,&mdash;not wish to be in Parliament?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not. If I enter the House, it is as a law-officer of the Crown;
+personally it is no object to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll not tell him that, Pem. I'll keep your secret safe, for I tell you
+frankly it would ruin you to reveal it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's no secret, sir; you may proclaim it,&mdash;you may publish it in the
+'Gazette,' But really we are wasting much valuable time here. It is now
+two o'clock, and I must go down to Court. I have only to say that if no
+arrangement be come to before this time to-morrow&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped
+short. Another word might have committed him, but he pulled up in time.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what then?&rdquo; asked Balfour, with a half smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard you pride yourself, Mr. Balfour,&rdquo; said the other,
+recovering, &ldquo;on your skill in nice negotiation; why not try what you could
+do with the Chief Baron?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are there women in the family?&rdquo; said Balfour, caressing his moustache.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; only his wife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've seen her,&rdquo; said he, contemptuously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He quarrelled with his only son, and has not spoken to him, I believe,
+for nigh thirty years, and the poor fellow is struggling on as a country
+doctor somewhere in the west.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What if we were to propose to do something for him? Men are often not
+averse to see those assisted whom their own pride refuses to help.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely suspect you 'll acquire his gratitude that way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We don't want his gratitude, we want his place. I declare I think the
+idea a good one. There's a thing now at the Cape, an inspectorship of
+something,&mdash;Hottentots or hospitals, I forget which. His Excellency
+asked to have the gift of it; what if we were to appoint this man?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make the crier of his Court a Commissioner in Chancery, and Baron
+Lendrick will be more obliged to you,&rdquo; said Pem-berton, with a sneer. &ldquo;He
+is about the least forgiving man I ever knew or heard of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is this son of his to be found?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw him yesterday walking with Dr. Beattie. I have no doubt Beattie
+knows his address. But let me warn you once more against the inutility of
+the step you would take. I doubt if the old Judge would as much as thank
+you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Balfour turned round to the glass and smiled sweetly at himself, as though
+to say that he had heard of some one who knew how to make these
+negotiations successful,&mdash;a fellow of infinite readiness, a clever
+fellow, but withal one whose good looks and distinguished air left even
+his talents in the background.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I 'll call and see the Chief Baron myself,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;His
+Excellency sends twice a day to inquire, and I 'll take the opportunity to
+make him a visit,&mdash;that is, if he will receive me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is doubtful. At all events, let me give you one hint for your
+guidance. Neither let drop Mr. Attorney's name nor mine in your
+conversation; avoid the mention of any one whose career might be
+influenced by the Baron's retirement; and talk of him less as a human
+being than as an institution that is destined to endure as long as the
+British constitution.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish it was a woman&mdash;if it was only a woman I had to deal with,
+the whole affair might be deemed settled.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you should be able to do anything before the mail goes out to-night,
+perhaps you will inform me,&rdquo; said Pem-berton, as he bowed and left the
+room. &ldquo;And these are the men they send over here to administer the
+country!&rdquo; muttered he, as he descended the stairs,&mdash;&ldquo;such are the
+intelligences that are to rule Ireland! Was it Voltaire who said there was
+nothing so inscrutable in all the ways of Providence as the miserable
+smallness of those creatures to whom the destiny of nations was
+committed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Ruminating over this, he hastened on to a <i>nisi prius</i> case.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VIII. A PUZZLING COMMISSION
+</h2>
+<p>
+As Colonel Cave re-entered his quarters after morning parade in the Royal
+Barracks of Dublin, he found the following letter, which the post had just
+delivered. It was headed &ldquo;Strictly Private,&rdquo; with three dashes under the
+words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Holt-Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Colonel Cave,&mdash;Sir Hugh is confined to bed with a severe
+attack of gout,&mdash;the doctors call it flying gout. He suffers greatly,
+and his nerves are in a state of irritation that makes all attempt at
+writing impossible. This will be my apology for obtruding upon you,
+though, perhaps, the cause in which I write might serve for excuse. We are
+in the deepest anxiety about Lionel. You are already aware how heavily his
+extravagance has cost us. His play-debts amounted to above ten thousand
+pounds, and all the cleverness of Mr. Joel has not been able to compromise
+with the tradespeople for less than as much more; nor are we yet done with
+demands from various quarters. It is not, however, of these that I desire
+to speak. Your kind offer to take him into your own regiment, and exercise
+the watchful supervision of a parent, has relieved us of much anxiety, and
+his own sincere affection for you is the strongest assurance we can have
+that the step has been a wise one. Our present uneasiness has however a
+deeper source than mere pecuniary embarrassment. The boy&mdash;he is very
+little more than a boy in years&mdash;has fallen in love, and gravely
+writes to his father for consent that he may marry. I assure you the shock
+brought back all Sir Hugh's most severe symptoms; and his left eye was
+attacked with an inflammation such as Dr. Gole says he never saw equalled.
+So far as the incoherency of his letter will permit us to guess, the girl
+is a person in a very humble condition of life, the daughter of a country
+doctor, of course without family or fortune. That he made her acquaintance
+by an accident, as he informs us, is also a reason to suppose that they
+are not people in society. The name, as well as I can decipher it, is
+Lendrich or Hendrich,&mdash;neither very distinguished!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, my dear Colonel, even to a second son, such an alliance would be
+perfectly intolerable,&mdash;totally at variance with all his father's
+plans for him, and inconsistent with the station he should occupy. But
+there are other considerations,&mdash;too sad ones, too melancholy indeed
+to be spoken of, except where the best interests of a family are to be
+regarded, which press upon us here. The last accounts of George from
+Madeira leave us scarcely a hope. The climate, from which so much was
+expected, has done nothing. The season has been unhappily most severe, and
+the doctors agree in declaring that the malady has not yielded in any
+respect. You will see, therefore, what a change any day may accomplish in
+Lionel's prospects, and how doubly important it is that he should contract
+no ties inconsistent with a station of no mean importance. Not that these
+considerations would weigh with Lionel in the least: he was always
+headstrong, rash, and self-willed; and if he were, or fancied that he
+were, bound in honor to do a thing, I know well that all persuasions would
+be unavailing to prevent him. I cannot believe, however, that matters can
+have gone so far here. This acquaintanceship must be of the very shortest;
+and however designing and crafty such people may be, there will surely be
+some means of showing them that their designs are impracticable, and of a
+nature only to bring disappointment and disgrace upon themselves. That Sir
+Hugh would give his consent is totally out of the question,&mdash;a thing
+not to be thought of for a moment; indeed I may tell you in confidence
+that his first thought on reading L.'s letter was to carry out a project
+to which George had already consented, and by which the entail should be
+cut off, and our third son, Harry, in that case would inherit. This will
+show you to what extent his indignation would carry him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now what is to be done? for, really, it is but time lost in deploring
+when prompt action alone can save us. Do you know, or do you know any one
+who does know, these Hendrichs or Lendrichs&mdash;who are they, what are
+they? Are they people to whom I could write myself, or are they in that
+rank in life which would enable us to make some sort of compromise? Again,
+could you in anyway obtain L.'s confidence, and make him open his heart to
+you <i>first?</i> This is the more essential, because the moment he hears
+of anything like coercion or pressure, his whole spirit will rise in
+resistance, and he will be totally unmanageable. You have perhaps more
+influence over him than any one else, and even your influence he would
+resent if he suspected any dominance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am madly impatient to hear what you will suggest. Will it be to see
+these people, to reason with them, to explain to them the fruitlessness of
+what they are doing? Will it be to talk to the girl herself?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My first thought was to send for Lionel, as his father was so ill, but on
+consideration I felt that a meeting between them might be the thing of all
+others to be avoided. Indeed, in Sir Hugh's present temper, I dare not
+think of the consequences.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Might it be advisable to get Lionel attached to some foreign station? If
+so, I am sure I could manage it&mdash;only, would he go? there 's the
+question,&mdash;would he go? I am writing in such distress of mind, and so
+hurriedly too, that I really do not know what I have set down and what I
+have omitted. I trust, however, there is enough of this sad case before
+you to enable you to counsel me, or, what is much better, act for me. I
+wish I could send you L.'s letter, but Sir Hugh has put it away, and I
+cannot lay my hand on it. Its purport, however, was to obtain authority
+from us to approach this girl's relations as a suitor, and to show that
+his intentions were known to and concurred in by his family. The only
+gleam of hope in the epistle was his saying, 'I have not the slightest
+reason to believe she would accept me, but the approval of my friends will
+certainly give me the best chance.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, my dear Colonel, compassionate my anxiety, and write to me at once&mdash;something&mdash;anything.
+Write such a letter as Sir Hugh may see; and if you have anything secret
+or confidential, enclose it as a separate slip. Was it not unfortunate
+that we refused that Indian appointment for him? All this misery might
+have been averted. You may imagine how Sir Hugh feels this conduct the
+more bitterly, coming, as I may say, on the back of all his late
+indiscretions.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember, finally, happen what may, this project must not go on. It is a
+question of the boy's whole future and life. To defy his father is to
+disinherit himself; and it is not impossible that this might be the most
+effectual argument you could employ with these people who now seek to
+entangle him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have certainly no reason to love Ireland. It was there that my cousin
+Cornwallis married that dreadful creature who is now suing him for
+cruelty, and exposing the family throughout England.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Hugh gave directions last week about lodging the purchase-money for
+his company, but he wrote a few lines to Cox's last night&mdash;to what
+purport I cannot say&mdash;not impossibly to countermand it. What
+affliction all this is!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As Colonel Cave read over this letter for a second time, he was not
+without misgivings about the even small share to which he had contributed
+in this difficulty. It was evidently during the short leave he had granted
+that this acquaintanceship had been formed; and Fossbrooke's companionship
+was the very last thing in the world to deter a young and ardent fellow
+from anything high-flown or romantic. &ldquo;I ought never to have thrown them
+together,&rdquo; muttered he, as he walked his room in doubt and deliberation.
+</p>
+<p>
+He rang his bell and sent for the adjutant. &ldquo;Where 's Trafford?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You gave him three days' leave yesterday, sir. He's gone down to that
+fishing-village where he went before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Confound the place! Send for him at once&mdash;telegraph. No&mdash;let us
+see&mdash;his leave is up to-morrow?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The next day at ten he was to report.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His father is ill,&mdash;an attack of gout,&rdquo; muttered the Colonel, to
+give some color to his agitated manner. &ldquo;But it is better, perhaps, not to
+alarm him. The seizure seems passing off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said something about asking for a longer term; he wants a fortnight, I
+think. The season is just beginning now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He shall not have it, sir. Take good care to warn him not to apply. It
+will breed discontent in the regiment to see a young fellow who has not
+been a year with us obtain a leave every ten or fifteen days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it were any other than Trafford, there would be plenty of grumbling.
+But he is such a favorite!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know that a worse accident could befall any man. Many a fine
+fellow has been taught selfishness by the over-estimate others have formed
+of him. See that you keep him to his duty, and that he is to look for no
+favoritism.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Colonel did not well know why he said this, nor did he stop to think
+what might come of it. It smacked, to his mind, however, of something
+prompt, active, and energetic.
+</p>
+<p>
+His next move was to write a short note to Lady Trafford, acknowledging
+hers, and saying that, Lionel being absent,&mdash;he did not add where,&mdash;nothing
+could be done till he should see him. &ldquo;To-morrow&mdash;next day at
+farthest&mdash;I will report progress. I cannot believe the case to be so
+serious as you suppose; at all events, count upon me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stay!&rdquo; cried he to the adjutant, who stood in the window awaiting further
+instructions; &ldquo;on second thoughts, do telegraph. Say, 'Return at once.'
+This will prepare him for something.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IX. A BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE
+</h2>
+<p>
+On the day after the picnic Sir Brook went by invitation to breakfast with
+the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When a man asks you to dinner,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, &ldquo;he generally wants you
+to talk; when he asks you to breakfast, he wants to talk to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Whatever be the truth of this adage generally, it certainly-had its
+application in the present case. The vicar wanted very much to talk to Sir
+Brook.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they sat, therefore, over their coffee and devilled kidneys, chatting
+over the late excursion and hinting at another, the vicar suddenly said:
+&ldquo;By the way, I want you to tell me something of the young fellow who was
+one of us yesterday. Tobin, our doctor here, who is a perfect
+commission-agent for scandal, says he is the greatest scamp going; that
+about eight or ten months ago the 'Times' was full of his exploits in
+bankruptcy; that his liabilities were tens of thousands,&mdash;assets <i>nil</i>.
+In a word, that, notwithstanding his frank, honest look, and his
+unaffected manner, he is the most accomplished scapegrace of the age.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how much of this do you believe?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, as he helped
+himself to coffee.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is not so easy to reply to; but I tell you, if you ask me, that I 'd
+rather not believe one word of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor need you. His Colonel told me something about the young fellow's
+difficulties; he himself related the rest. He went most recklessly into
+debt; betted largely on races, and lost; lent freely, and lost; raised at
+ruinous interest, and renewed at still more ruinous; but his father has
+paid every shilling of it out of that fortune which one day was to have
+come to him, so that Lionel's thirty thousand pounds is now about eight
+thousand. I have put the whole story into the fewest possible words, but
+that's the substance of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And has it cured him of extravagance?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it has not. How should it? <i>You</i> have lived some more
+years in the world than he has, and I a good many more than <i>you</i>,
+and will you tell me that time has cured either of us of any of our old
+shortcomings? <i>Non sum quails eram</i> means, I can't be as wild as I
+used to be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; I won't agree to that. I protest most strongly against the
+doctrine. Many men are wiser through experience, and, consequently,
+better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sincerely believe I knew the world better at four-and-twenty than I
+know it now. The reason why we are less often deceived in after than in
+early life is not that we are more crafty or more keen-eyed. It is simply
+because we risk less. Let us hazard as much at sixty as we once did at
+six-and-twenty, and we 'll lose as heavily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The vicar paused a few moments over the other's words, and then said, &ldquo;To
+come back to this young man, I half suspect he has formed an attachment to
+Lucy, and that he is doing his utmost to succeed in her favor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is there anything wrong in that, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not positively wrong; but there is what may lead to a great deal of
+unhappiness. Who is to say how Trafford's family would like the
+connection? Who is to answer for Lendrick's approval of Trafford?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You induce me to make a confidence I have no right to impart; but I rely
+so implicitly on your discretion. I will tell you what was intrusted to me
+as a secret: Trafford has already written to his father to ask his
+consent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Without speaking to Lendrick? without even being sure of Lucy's?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, without knowing anything of either; but on my advice he has first
+asked his father's permission to pay his addresses to the young lady. His
+position with his family is peculiar; he is a younger son, but not exactly
+as free as most younger sons feel to act for themselves. I cannot now
+explain this more fully, but it is enough if you understand that he is
+entirely dependent on his father. When I came to know this, and when I saw
+that he was becoming desperately in love, I insisted on this appeal to his
+friends before he either entangled Lucy in a promise, or even made any
+declaration himself. He showed me the letter before he posted it. It was
+all I could wish. It is not a very easy task for a young fellow to tell
+his father he 's in love; but he, in the very frankness of his nature,
+acquitted himself well and manfully.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what answer has he received?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None as yet. Two posts have passed. He might have heard through either of
+them; but no letter has come, and he is feverishly uneasy and anxious.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The vicar was silent, but a grave motion of his head implied doubt and
+fear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, answering the gesture,&mdash;&ldquo;yes, I agree with
+you. The Traffords are great folk in their own country. Trafford was a
+strong place in Saxon times. They have pride enough for all this blood,
+and wealth enough for both pride and blood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 'd find their match in Lendrick, quiet and simple as he seems,&rdquo; said
+the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which makes the matter worse. Who is to give way? Who is to <i>céder le
+pas?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not so sure I should have advised that letter. I am inclined to
+think I would have counselled more time, more consideration. Fathers and
+mothers are prudently averse to these loves at first sight, and they are
+merciless in dealing with what they deem a mere passing sentiment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better that than suffer him to engage the girl's affections, and then
+learn that he must either desert her or marry her against the feeling of
+his family. Let us have a stroll in the garden. I have made you one
+confidence; I will now make you another.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They lit their cigars, and strolled out into a long alley fenced on one
+side by a tall dense hedge of laurels, and flanked on the other by a low
+wall, over which the view took in the wide reach of the river and the
+distant mountains of Scariff and Meelick.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was not that where we picnicked yesterday?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, pointing to
+an island in the distance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; you cannot see Holy Island from this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook smoked on for some minutes without a word; at last, with a sort
+of abruptness, he said, &ldquo;She was so like her, not only in face and figure,
+but her manner; the very tone of her voice was like; and then that
+half-caressing, half-timid way she has in conversation, and, more than
+all, the sly quietness with which she caps you when you fancy that the
+smart success is all your own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of whom are you speaking?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of another Lucy,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, with a deep melancholy. &ldquo;Heaven grant
+that the resemblance follow them not in their lives as in their features!
+It was that likeness, however, which first attracted me towards Miss
+Lendrick. The first moment I saw her it overcame me; as I grew to know her
+better, it almost confused me, and made me jumble in your hearing things
+of long ago with the present. Time and space were both forgotten, and I
+found my mind straying away to scenes in the Himalaya with those I shall
+never see more. It was thus that, one day carried away by this delusion, I
+chanced to call her Lucy, and she laughingly begged me not to retract it,
+but so to call her always.&rdquo; For some minutes he was silent, and then
+resumed: &ldquo;I don't know if you ever heard of a Colonel Frank Dillon, who
+served on Napier's staff in Scinde. Fiery Frank was his nickname among his
+comrades, but it only applied to him on the field of battle, and with an
+enemy in front. Then he was indeed fiery,&mdash;the excitement rose to
+almost madness, and led him to acts of almost incredible daring. At Meanee
+he was nearly cut to pieces, and as he lay wounded, and to all appearance
+dying, he received a lance-wound through the chest that the surgeon
+declared must prove fatal. He lived, however, for eight months after,&mdash;he
+lived long enough to reach the Himalayas, where his daughter, an only
+child, joined him from England. On her way out she became acquainted with
+a young officer, who was coming out as aide-de-camp to the
+Governor-General. They were constantly thrown together on the journey, and
+his attentions to her soon showed the sentiments he had conceived for her.
+In fact, very soon after Lucy had joined her father, Captain Sewell
+appeared 'in the Hills' to make a formal demand of her in marriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was there at the time, and I remember well poor Dillon's expression of
+disappointment after the first meeting with him. His daughter's
+enthusiastic description of his looks, his manner, his abilities, his
+qualities generally, had perhaps prepared him for too much. Indeed, Lucy's
+own intense admiration for the soldierlike character of her father's
+features assisted the mistake; for, as Dillon said, 'There must be a dash
+of the <i>sabreur</i> in the fellow that will win Lucy.' I came into
+Dillon's room immediately after the first interview. The instant I caught
+his eye I read what was going on in his brain. 'Sit down here, Brook,'
+cried he, 'sit in my chair here;' and he arose painfully as he spoke.
+'I'll show you the man.' With this he hobbled over to a table where his
+cap lay, and, placing it rakishly on one side of his head, he stuck his
+eyeglass in one eye, and, with a hand in his trousers-pocket, lounged
+forward towards where I sat, saying, 'How d' ye do, Colonel? Wound doing
+better, I hope. The breezy climate up here soon set you up.' 'Familiar
+enough this, sir,' cried Dillon, in his own stern voice; 'but without time
+to breathe, as it were,&mdash;before almost I had exchanged a greeting
+with him,&mdash;he entered upon the object of his journey. I scarcely
+heard a word he said; I knew its purport,&mdash;I could mark the theme,&mdash;but
+no more. It was not the fellow himself that filled my mind; my whole
+thoughts were upon my daughter, and I went on repeating to myself, &ldquo;Good
+heavens! is this Lucy's choice? Am I in a trance? Is it this contemptible
+cur (for he was a cur, sir) that has won the affections of my darling,
+high-hearted, generous girl? Is the romantic spirit that I have so loved
+to see in her to bear no better fruit than this? Does the fellow realize
+to her mind the hero that fills men's thoughts?&rdquo; I was so overcome, so
+excited, so confused, Brook, that I begged him to leave me for a while,
+that one of my attacks of pain was coming on, and that I should not be
+able to converse farther He said something about trying one of his
+cheroots,&mdash;some impertinence or other, I forget what; but he left me,
+and I, who never knew a touch of girlish weakness in my life, who when a
+child had no mood of softness in my nature,&mdash;I felt the tears
+trickling along my cheeks, and my eyes dimmed with them.' My poor friend,&rdquo;
+ continued Fossbrooke, &ldquo;could not go on; his emotions mastered him, and he
+sat with his head buried between his hands and in silence. At last he
+said, 'She 'll not give him up, Brook; I have spoken to her,&mdash;she
+actually loves him. Good heavens!' he cried, 'how little do we know about
+our children's hearts! how far astray are we as to the natures that have
+grown up beside us, imbibing, as we thought, our hopes, our wishes, and
+our prejudices! We awake some day to discover that some other influence
+has crept in to undo our teachings, and that the fidelity on which we
+would have staked our lives has changed allegiance.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He talked to me long in this strain, and I saw that the effects of this
+blow to all his hopes had made themselves deeply felt on his chance of
+recovery. It only needed a great shock to depress him to make his case
+hopeless. Within two months after his daughter's arrival he was no more.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I became Lucy's guardian. Poor Dillon gave me the entire control over her
+future fortune, and left me to occupy towards her the place he had himself
+held. I believe that next to her father I held the best place in her
+affections,&mdash;of such affections, I mean, as are accorded to a parent.
+I was her godfather, and from her earliest infancy she had learned to love
+me. The reserve&mdash;it was positive coldness&mdash;with which Dillon had
+always treated Sewell had caused a certain distance, for the first time in
+their lives, between the father and daughter. She thought, naturally
+enough, that her father was unjust; that, unaccustomed to the new tone of
+manners which had grown up amongst young men,&mdash;their greater ease,
+their less rigid observance of ceremonial, their more liberal
+self-indulgence,&mdash;he was unfairly severe upon her lover. She was
+annoyed, too, that Sewells attempts to conciliate the old man should have
+turned out such complete failures. But none of these prejudices extended
+to me, and she counted much on the good understanding that she expected to
+find grow up between us.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I could have prevented the marriage, I would. I learned many things of
+the man that I disliked. There is no worse sign of a man than to be at the
+same time a man of pleasure and friendless. These he was,&mdash;he was
+foremost in every plan of amusement and dissipation, and yet none liked
+him. Vain fellows get quizzed for their vanity, and selfish men laughed at
+for their selfishness, and close men for their avarice; but there is a
+combination of vanity, egotism, small craftiness, and self-preservation in
+certain fellows that is totally repugnant to all companionship. Their
+lives are a series of petty successes, not owing to any superior ability
+or greater boldness of daring, but to a studious outlook for small
+opportunities. They are ever alive to know the 'right man,' to be invited
+to the 'right house,' to say the 'right thing.' Never linked with whatever
+is in disgrace or misfortune, they are always found backing the winning
+horse, if not riding him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such men as these, so long as the world goes well with them, and events
+turn out fortunately, are regarded simply as sharp, shrewd fellows, with a
+keen eye to their own interests. When, however, the weight of any
+misfortune comes, when the time arrives that they have to bear up against
+the hard pressure of life, these fellows come forth in their true colors,
+swindlers and cheats.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such was he. Finding that I was determined to settle the small fortune
+her father had left her inalienably on herself, he defeated me by a
+private marriage. He then launched out into a life of extravagance to
+which their means bore no proportion. I was a rich man in those days, and
+knew nothing better to do with my money than assist the daughter of my
+oldest friend. The gallant Captain did not balk my good intentions. He
+first accepted, he then borrowed, and last of all he forged my name. I
+paid the bills and saved him, not for his sake, I need not tell you, but
+for hers, who threw herself at my feet, and implored me not to see them
+ruined. Even this act of hers he turned to profit. He wrote to me to say
+that he knew his wife had been to my house, that he had long nurtured
+suspicions against me,&mdash;I that was many years older than her own
+father,&mdash;that for the future he desired all acquaintance should cease
+between us, and that I should not again cross his threshold.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By what persuasions or by what menaces he led his wife to the step, I do
+not know; but she passed me when we met without a recognition. This was
+the hardest blow of all. I tried to write her a letter; but after a score
+of attempts I gave it up, and left the place.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never saw her for eight years. I wish I had not seen her then. I am an
+old, hardened man of the world, one whom life has taught all its lessons
+to in the sternest fashion. I have been so baffled and beaten, and thrown
+back by all my attempts to think well of the world, that nothing short of
+a dogged resolution not to desert my colors has rescued me from a cold
+misanthropy; and yet, till I saw, I did not believe there was a new pang
+of misery my heart had not tasted. What? it is incredible,&mdash;surely
+that is not she who once was Lucy Dillon,&mdash;that bold-faced woman with
+lustrous eyes and rouged cheeks,&mdash;brilliant, indeed, and beautiful,
+but not the beauty that is allied to the thought of virtue,&mdash;whose
+every look is a wile, whose every action is entanglement. She was leaning
+on a great man's arm, and in the smile she gave him told me how she knew
+to purchase such distinctions. He noticed me, and shook my hand as I
+passed. I heard him tell her who I was; and I heard her say that I had
+been a hanger-on, a sort of dependant of her father's, but she never liked
+me! I tried to laugh, but the pain was too deep. I came away, and saw her
+no more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He ceased speaking, and for some time they walked along side by side
+without a word. At last he broke out: &ldquo;Don't believe the people who say
+that men are taught by anything they experience in life. Outwardly they
+may affect it. They may assume this or that manner. The heart cannot play
+the hypocrite, and no frequency of disaster diminishes the smart. The
+wondrous resemblance Miss Lendrick bears to Lucy Dillon renews to my
+memory the bright days of her early beauty, when her poor father would
+call her to sit down at his feet and read to him, that he might gaze at
+will on her, weaving whole histories of future happiness and joy for her.
+'Is it not like sunshine in the room to see her, Brook?' would he whisper
+to me. 'I only heard her voice as she passed under my window this morning,
+and I forgot some dark thought that was troubling me.' And there was no
+exaggeration in this. The sweet music of her tones &ldquo;vibrated so softly on
+the ear, they soothed the sense, just as we feel soothed by the gentle
+ripple of a stream.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All these times come back to me since I have been here, and I cannot tell
+you how the very sorrow that is associated with them has its power over
+me. Every one knows with what attachment the heart will cling to some
+little spot in a far-away land that reminds one of a loved place at home,&mdash;how
+we delight to bring back old memories, and how we even like to name old
+names, to cheat ourselves back into the past. So it is that I feel when I
+see this girl. The other Lucy was once as my daughter; so, too, do I
+regard her, and with this comes that dreadful sorrow I have told you of,
+giving my interest in her an intensity unspeakable. When I saw Trafford's
+attention to her, the only thing I thought of was how unlike he was to him
+who won the other Lucy. His frank, unaffected bearing, his fine, manly
+trustfulness, the very opposite to the other's qualities, made me his
+friend at once. When I say friend, I mean well-wisher, for my friendship
+now bears no other fruit. Time was when it was otherwise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it, William?&rdquo; cried the vicar, as his servant came hurriedly
+forward.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's a gentleman in the drawing-room, sir, wants to see Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have I your leave?&rdquo; said the old man, bowing low. &ldquo;I 'll join you here
+immediately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Within a few moments he was back again. &ldquo;It was Trafford. He has just got
+a telegram to call him to his regiment. He suspects something has gone
+wrong; and seeing his agitation, I offered to go back with him. We start
+within an hour.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER X. LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN
+</h2>
+<p>
+The vicar having some business to transact in Limerick, agreed to go that
+far with Sir Brook and Trafford, and accompanied them to the railroad to
+see them off.
+</p>
+<p>
+A down train from Dublin arrived as they were waiting, and a passenger,
+descending, hastily hurried after the vicar, and seized his hand. The
+vicar, in evident delight, forgot his other friends for a moment, and
+became deeply interested in the new-comer. &ldquo;We must say good-bye, doctor,&rdquo;
+ said Fossbrooke; &ldquo;here comes our train.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand pardons, my dear Sir Brook. The unlooked-for arrival of my
+friend here&mdash;but I believe you don't know him. Lendrick, come here, I
+want to present you to Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Captain Trafford, Dr.
+Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope these gentlemen are not departing,&rdquo; said Lendrick, with the
+constraint of a bashful man.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is our misfortune to do so,&rdquo; said Sir Brook; &ldquo;but I have passed too
+many happy hours in this neighborhood not to come back to it as soon as I
+can.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope we shall see you. I hope I may have an opportunity of thanking
+you, Sir Brook.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dublin! Dublin! Dublin! get in, gentlemen: first class, this way, sir,&rdquo;
+ screamed a guard, amidst a thundering rumble, a scream, and a hiss. All
+other words were drowned, and with a cordial shake-hands the new friends
+parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is the younger man his son?&rdquo; asked Lendrick; &ldquo;I did not catch the name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he's Trafford, a son of Sir Hugh Trafford,&mdash;a Lincolnshire man,
+isn't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know. It was of the other I was thinking. I felt it so strange to
+see a man of whom when a boy I used to hear so much. I have an old print
+somewhere of two over-dressed 'Bloods,' as they were called in those days,
+with immense whiskers, styled 'Fossy and Fussy,' meaning Sir Brook and the
+Baron Geramb, a German friend and follower of the Prince.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect a good deal changed since that day, in person as well as
+purse,&rdquo; said the vicar, sadly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed! I heard of his having inherited some immense fortune.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he did, and squandered every shilling of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the chicks are well, you tell me?&rdquo; said Lendrick, whose voice
+softened as he talked of home and his children.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Could n't be better. We had a little picnic on Holy Island yesterday, and
+only wanted yourself to have been perfectly happy. Lucy was for refusing
+at first.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some notion she had that you would n't like it. Some idea about not doing
+in your absence anything that was not usual when you are here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is such a true girl, so loyal,&rdquo; said Lendrick, proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I take the treason on my shoulders. I made her come. It was a
+delightful day, and we drank your health in as good a glass of Madeira as
+ever ripened in the sun. Now for your own news?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First let us get on the road. I am impatient to be back at home again.
+Have you your car here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All is ready, and waiting for you at the gate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As they drove briskly along, Lendrick gave the vicar a detailed account of
+his visit to Dublin. Passing over the first days, of which the reader
+already has heard something, we take up the story from the day on which
+Lendrick learned that his father would see him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My mind was so full of myself, doctor,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;of all the consequences
+which had followed from my father's anger with me, that I had no thought
+of anything else till I entered the room where he was. Then, however, as I
+saw him propped up with pillows in a deep chair, his face pale, his eyes
+colorless, and his head swathed up in a bandage after leeching, my heart
+sickened, alike with sorrow and shame at my great selfishness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had been warned by Beattie on no account to let any show of feeling or
+emotion escape me, to be as cool and collected as possible, and in fact,
+he said, to behave as though I had seen him the day before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Leave the room, Poynder,' said he to his man, 'and suffer no one to
+knock at the door&mdash;mind, not even to knock&mdash;till I ring my
+bell.' He waited till the man withdrew, and then in a very gentle voice
+said, 'How are you, Tom? I can't give you my right hand,&mdash;the
+rebellious member has ceased to know me!' I thought I should choke as the
+words met me; I don't remember what I said, but I took my chair and sat
+down beside him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I thought you might have been too much agitated, Tom, but otherwise I
+should have wished to have had your advice along with Beattie. I believe,
+on the whole, however, he has treated me well.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assured him that none could have done more skilfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The skill of the doctor with an old patient is the skill of an architect
+with an old wall. He must not breach it, or it will tumble to pieces.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Beattie is very able, sir,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'No man is able,' replied he, quickly, 'when the question is to repair
+the wastes of time and years. Draw that curtain, and let me look at you.
+No; stand yonder, where the light is stronger. What! is it my eyes deceive
+me,&mdash;is your hair white?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'It has been so eight years, sir.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And I had not a gray hair till my seventy-second year,&mdash;not one. I
+told Beattie, t' other day, that the race of the strong was dying out.
+Good heavens, how old you look! Would any one believe in seeing us that
+you could be my son?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I feel perhaps even more than I look it, sir.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I could swear you did. You are the very stamp of those fellows who plead
+guilty&mdash;&ldquo;Guilty, my Lord; we throw ourselves on the mercy of the
+court.&rdquo; I don't know how the great judgment-seat regards these pleas,&mdash;with
+<i>me</i> they meet only scorn. Give me the man who says, &ldquo;Try me, test
+me.&rdquo; Drop that curtain, and draw the screen across the fire. Speak lower,
+too, my dear,' said he, in a weak soft voice; 'you suffer yourself to grow
+excited, and you excite me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I will be more cautious, sir,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'What are these drops he is giving me? They have an acrid sweet taste.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Aconite, sir; a weak solution.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'They say that our laws never forgot feudalism, but I declare I believe
+medicine has never been able to ignore alchemy: drop me out twenty, I see
+that your hand does not shake. Strange thought, is it not, to feel that a
+little phial like that could make a new Baron of the Exchequer? You have
+heard, I suppose, of the attempts&mdash;the indecent attempts&mdash;to
+induce me to resign. You have heard what they say of my age. They quote
+the registry of my baptism, as though it were the date of a conviction. I
+have yet to learn that the years a man has devoted to his country's
+service are counts in the indictment against his character. Age has been
+less merciful to me than to my fellows,&mdash;it has neither made me deaf
+to rancor nor blind to ingratitude. I told the Lord-Lieutenant so
+yesterday.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You saw him then, sir?' asked I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Yes, he was gracious enough to call here; he sent his secretary to ask
+if I would receive a visit from him. I thought that a little more tact
+might have been expected from a man in his station,&mdash;it is the common
+gift of those in high places. I perceive,' added he, after a pause, 'you
+don't see what I mean. It is this: royalties, or mock royalties, for they
+are the same in this, condescend to these visits as deathbed attentions.
+They come to us with their courtesies as the priest comes with his holy
+cruet, only when they have the assurance that we are beyond recovery. His
+Excellency ought to have felt that the man to whom he proposed this
+attention was not one to misunderstand its significance.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Did he remain long, sir?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Two hours and forty minutes. I measured it by my watch.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Was the fatigue not too much for you?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Of course it was; I fainted before he got to his carriage. He twice rose
+to go away, but on each occasion I had something to say that induced him
+to sit down again. It was the whole case of Ireland we reviewed,&mdash;that
+is, I did. I deployed the six millions before him, and he took the salute.
+Yes, sir, education, religious animosities, land-tenure, drainage,
+emigration, secret societies, the rebel priest and the intolerant parson,
+even nationality and mendicant insolence, all marched past, and he took
+the salute! &ldquo;And now, my Lord,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;it is the man who tells you these
+things, who has the courage to tell and the ability to display them, and
+it is this man for whose retirement your Ex-lency is so eager, that you
+have actually deigned to make him a visit, that he may carry away into the
+next world, perhaps, a pleasing memory of this; it is this man, I say,
+whom you propose to replace&mdash;and by what, my Lord, and by whom? Will
+a mere lawyer, will any amount of <i>nisi prius</i> craft or precedent,
+give you the qualities you need on that bench, or that you need, sadly
+need, at this council-board? Go back, my Lord, and tell your colleagues of
+the Cabinet that Providence is more merciful than a Premier, and that the
+same overruling hand that has sustained me through this trial will uphold
+me, I trust, for years to serve my country, and save it for some time
+longer from your blundering legislation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'He stood up, sir, like a prisoner when under sentence; he stood up, sir,
+and as he bowed, I waved my adieu to him as though saying, You have heard
+me, and you are not to carry away from this place a hope, the faintest,
+that any change will come over the determination I have this day declared.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'He went away, and I fainted. The exertion was too long sustained, too
+much for me. I believe, after all,' added he, with a smile, 'his
+Excellency bore it very little better. He told the Archbishop the same
+evening that he'd not go through another such morning for &ldquo;the garter.&rdquo;
+ Men in his station hear so little of truth that it revolts them like
+coarse diet. They 'd rather abstain altogether till forced by actual
+hunger to touch it. When they come to me, however, it is the only fare
+they will find before them.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was a long pause after this,&rdquo; continued Lendrick. &ldquo;I saw that the
+theme had greatly excited him, and I forbore to say a word, lest he should
+be led to resume it. 'Too old for the bench!' burst he out suddenly; 'my
+Lord, there are men who are never too old, as there are those who are
+never too young. The oak is but a sapling when the pine is in decay. Is
+there that glut of intellect just now in England, are we so surfeited with
+ability that, to make room for the coming men, we, who have made our mark
+on the age, must retire into obscurity?' He tried to rise from his seat;
+his face was flushed, and his eyes flashing; he evidently forgot where he
+was, and with whom, for he sank back with a faint sigh, and said, 'Let us
+talk of it no more. Let us think of something else. Indeed, it was to talk
+of something else I desired to see you.' He went on, then, to say that he
+wished something could be done for me. His own means were, he said, sadly
+crippled; he spoke bitterly, resentfully, I thought. 'It is too long a
+story to enter on, and were it briefer, too disagreeable a one,' added he.
+'I ought to be a rich man, and I am poor; I should be powerful, and I have
+no influence. All has gone ill with me.' After a silence, he continued,
+'They have a place to offer you: the inspectorship, I think they call it,
+of hospitals at the Cape; it is worth, altogether, nigh a thousand a year,
+a thing not to be refused.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'The offer could only be made in compliment to you, sir; and if my
+acceptance were to compromise your position&mdash;'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Compromise <i>me!</i>' broke he in. 'I 'll take care it shall not. No
+man need instruct me in the art of self-defence, sir. Accept at once.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I will do whatever you desire, sir,' was my answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Go out there yourself, alone,&mdash;at first, I mean. Let your boy
+continue his college career; the girl shall come to me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I have never been separated from my children, sir,' said I, almost
+trembling with anxiety.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Such separations are bearable,' added he, 'when it is duty dictates
+them, not disobedience.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He fixed his eyes sternly on me, and I trembled as I thought that the
+long score of years was at last come to the reckoning. He did not dwell on
+the theme, however, but in a tone of much gentler meaning, went on: 'It
+will be an act of mercy to let me see a loving face, to hear a tender
+voice. Your boy would be too rough for me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You would like him, sir. He is thoroughly truthful and honest.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'So he may, and yet be self-willed, be noisy, be over-redolent of that
+youth which age resents like outrage. Give me the girl, Tom; let her come
+here, and bestow some of those loving graces on the last hours of my life
+her looks show she should be rich in. For your sake she will be kind to
+me. Who knows what charm there may be in gentleness, even to a
+tiger-nature like mine? Ask her, at least, if she will make the
+sacrifice.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I knew not what to answer. If I could not endure the thought of parting
+from Lucy, yet it seemed equally impossible to refuse his entreaty,&mdash;old,
+friendless, and deserted as he was. I felt, besides, that my only hope of
+a real reconciliation with him lay through this road; deny him this, and
+it was clear he would never see me more. He said, too, it should only be
+for a season. I was to see how the place, the climate, suited for a
+residence. In a word, every possible argument to reconcile me to the
+project rushed to my mind, and I at last said, 'Lucy shall decide, sir. I
+will set out for home at once, and you shall have her own answer.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Uninfluenced, sir,' cried he,&mdash;'mind that. If influence were to be
+used, I could perhaps tell her what might decide her at once; but I would
+not that pity should plead for me, till she should have seen if I be worth
+compassion! There is but one argument I will permit in my favor,&mdash;tell
+her that her picture has been my pleasantest companion these three long
+days. There it lies, always before me. Go now, and let me hear from you as
+soon as may be.' I arose, but somehow my agitation, do what I would,
+mastered me. It was so long since we had met! All the sorrows the long
+estrangement had cost me came to my mind, together with little touches of
+his kindness in long-past years, and I could not speak. 'Poor Tom! poor
+Tom!' said he, drawing me towards him; and he kissed me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As Lendrick said this, emotion overcame him, and he covered his face with
+his hands, and sobbed bitterly. More than a mile of road was traversed
+before a word passed between them. &ldquo;There they are, doctor! There 's Tom,
+there's Lucy! They are coming to meet me,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;Good-bye, doctor;
+you 'll forgive me, I know,&mdash;goodbye;&rdquo; and he sprang off the car as
+he spoke, while the vicar, respecting the sacredness of the joy, wheeled
+his horse round, and drove back towards the town.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XI. CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK
+</h2>
+<p>
+A few minutes after the Adjutant had informed Colonel Cave that Lieutenant
+Traflford had reported himself, Sir Brook entered the Colonel's quarters,
+eager to know what was the reason of the sudden recall of Traflford, and
+whether the regiment had been unexpectedly ordered for foreign service.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Cave, in some confusion. &ldquo;We have had our turn of India and
+the Cape; they can't send us away again for some time. It was purely
+personal; it was, I may say, a private reason. You know,&rdquo; added he, with a
+slight smile, &ldquo;I am acting as a sort of guardian to Trafford just now. His
+family sent him over to me, as to a reformatory.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From everything I have seen of him, your office will be an easy one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I suspect that, so far as mere wildness goes,&mdash;extravagance
+and that sort of thing,&mdash;he has had enough of it; but there are
+mistakes that a young fellow may make in life&mdash;mistakes in judgment&mdash;which
+will damage him more irreparably than all his derelictions against
+morality.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I deny,&mdash;totally, entirely deny. I know what you mean,&mdash;that
+is, I think I know what you mean; and if I guess aright, I am distinctly
+at issue with you on this matter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps I could convince you, notwithstanding. Here's a letter which I
+have no right to show you; it is marked 'Strictly confidential and
+private.' You shall read it,&mdash;nay, you must read it,&mdash;because
+you are exactly the man to be able to give advice on the matter. You like
+Traflford, and wish him well. Read that over carefully, and tell me what
+you would counsel.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Fossbrooke took out his spectacles, and, having seated himself
+comfortably, with his back to the light, began in leisurely fashion to
+peruse the letter. &ldquo;It's his mother who writes,&rdquo; said he, turning to the
+signature,&mdash;&ldquo;one of the most worldly women I ever met. She was a
+Lascelles. Don't you know how she married Trafford?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't remember, if I ever heard.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was her sister that Trafford wanted to marry, but she was ambitious to
+be a peeress; and as Bradbrook was in love with her, she told Sir Hugh, 'I
+have got a sister so like me nobody can distinguish between us. She 'd
+make an excellent wife for you. She rides far better than me, and she is
+n't half so extravagant. I 'll send for her.' She did so, and the whole
+thing was settled in a week.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They have lived very happily together.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course they have. They didn't 'go in,' as the speculators say, for
+enormous profits; they realized very fairly, and were satisfied. I wish
+her handwriting had been more cared for. What's this she says here about a
+subscription?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's supervision,&mdash;the supervision of a parent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Supervision of a fiddlestick! the fellow is six feet one inch high, and
+seven-and-twenty years of age; he's quite beyond supervision. Ah! brought
+back all his father's gout, has he? When will people begin to admit that
+their own tempers have something to say to their maladies? I curse the
+cook who made the mulligatawny, but I forget that I ate two platefuls of
+it. So it's the doctor's daughter she objects to. I wish she saw her. I
+wish <i>you</i> saw her, Cave. You are an old frequenter of courts and
+drawing-rooms. I tell you you have seen nothing like this doctor's
+daughter since Laura Bedingfield was presented, and that was before your
+day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Every one has heard of the Beauty Bedingfield; but she was my mother's
+contemporary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, her successors have not eclipsed her! This doctor's daughter,
+as your correspondent calls her, is the only rival of her that I have ever
+seen. As to wit and accomplishments, Laura could not compete with Lucy
+Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know her, then?&rdquo; asked the Colonel; and then added, &ldquo;Tell me
+something about the family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With your leave, I will finish this letter first. Ah! here we have the
+whole secret. Lionel Trafford is likely to be that precious prize, an
+eldest son. Who could have thought that the law of entail could sway a
+mother's affections? 'Contract no ties inconsistent with his station.'
+This begins to be intolerable, Cave. I don't think I can go on.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes; read it through.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She asks you if you know any one who knows these Hendrichs or Lendrichs;
+tell her that you do; tell her that your friend is one of those men who
+have seen a good deal of life, heard more, too, than he has seen. She will
+understand that, and that his name is Sir Brook Fossbrooke, who, if
+needed, will think nothing of a journey over to Lincolnshire to afford her
+all the information she could wish for. Say this, Cave, and take my word
+for it, she will put very few more questions to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That would be to avow I had already consulted with you. No, no; I must
+not do that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The wind-up of the epistle is charming. 'I have certainly no reason to
+love Ireland.' Poor Ireland! here is another infliction upon you. Let us
+hope you may never come to know that Lady Trafford cannot love you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, come, Fossbrooke, be just, be fair; there is nothing so very
+unreasonable in the anxiety of a mother that her son, who will have a good
+name and a large estate, should not share them both with a person beneath
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why must she assume that this is the case,&mdash;why take it for granted
+that this girl must be beneath him? I tell you, sir, if a prince of the
+blood had fallen in love with her, it would be a reason to repeal the
+Royal Marriage Act.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, Fossbrooke, I shall begin to suspect that your own heart has
+not escaped scathless,&rdquo; said Cave, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man's face became crimson, but not with anger. As suddenly it grew
+pale; and in a voice of deep agitation he said, &ldquo;When an old man like
+myself lays his homage at her feet, it is not hard to believe how a young
+man might love her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did you come to make this acquaintance?&rdquo; said Cave, anxious to turn
+the conversation into a more familiar channel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We chanced to fail in with her brother on the river. We found him
+struggling with a fish far too large for his tackle, and which at last
+smashed his rod and got away. He showed not alone that he was a perfect
+angler, but that he was a fine-tempered fellow, who accepted his defeat
+manfully and well; he had even a good word for his enemy, sir, and it was
+that which attracted me. Trafford and he, young-men-like, soon understood
+each other; he came into our boat, lunched with us, and asked us home with
+him to tea. There 's the whole story. As to the intimacy that followed, it
+was mostly my own doing. I own to you I never so much as suspected that
+Trafford was smitten by her; he was always with her brother, scarcely at
+all in her company; and when he came to tell me he was in love, I asked
+him how he caught the malady, for I never saw him near the infection. Once
+that I knew of the matter, however, I made him write home to his family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was by your advice, then, that he wrote that letter?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly; I not only advised, I insisted on it,&mdash;I read it, too,
+before it was sent off. It was such a letter as, if I had been the young
+fellow's father, would have made me prouder than to hear he had got the
+thanks of Parliament.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You and I, Fossbrooke, are old bachelors; we are scarcely able to say
+what we should have done if we had had sons.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am inclined to believe it would have made us better, not worse,&rdquo; said
+Fossbrooke, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At all events, as it was at your instigation this letter was written, I
+can't well suggest your name as an impartial person in the transaction,&mdash;I
+mean, as one who can be referred to for advice or information.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't do so, sir, or I shall be tempted to say more than may be prudent.
+Have you never noticed, Cave, the effect that a doctor's presence produces
+in the society of those who usually consult him,&mdash;the reserve,&mdash;the
+awkwardness,&mdash;the constraint,&mdash;the apologetic tone for this or
+that little indiscretion,&mdash;the sitting in the draught or the extra
+glass of sherry? So is it, but in a far stronger degree, when an old man
+of the world like myself comes back amongst those he formerly lived with,&mdash;one
+who knew all their past history, how they succeeded here, how they failed
+there,&mdash;what led the great man of fashion to finish his days in a
+colony, and why the Court beauty married a bishop. Ah, sir, we are the
+physicians who have all these secrets in our keeping. It is ours to know
+what sorrow is covered by that smile, how that merry laugh has but
+smothered the sigh of a heavy heart. It is only when a man has lived to my
+age, with an unfailing memory too, that he knows the real hollowness of
+life,&mdash;all the combinations falsified, all the hopes blighted,&mdash;the
+clever fellows that have turned out failures, or worse than failures,&mdash;the
+lovely women that have made shipwreck through their beauty. It is not
+only, however, that he knows this, but he knows how craft and cunning have
+won where ability and frankness have lost,&mdash;how intrigue and trick
+have done better than genius and integrity. With all this knowledge, sir,
+in their heads, and stout hearts within them, such men as myself have
+their utility in life. They are a sort of walking conscience that cannot
+be ignored. The railroad millionnaire talks less boastfully before him who
+knew him as an errand-boy; the <i>grande dame</i> is less superciliously
+insolent in the presence of one who remembered her in a very different
+character. Take my word for it, Cave, Nestor may have been a bit of a bore
+amongst the young Greeks of fashion, but he had his utility too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But how am I to answer this letter? What advice shall I give her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell her frankly that you have made the inquiry she wished; that the
+young lady, who is as well born as her son, is without fortune, and if her
+personal qualities count for nothing, would be what the world would call a
+'bad match.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that sounds practicable. I think that will do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell her, also, that if she seriously desires that her son should
+continue in the way of that reformation he has so ardently followed for
+some time back, and especially so since he has made the acquaintance of
+this family, such a marriage as this would give her better reasons for
+confidence than all her most crafty devices in match-making and
+settlements.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I can exactly tell her that,&rdquo; said Caver smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell her, then, that if this connection be not to her liking, to withdraw
+her son at once from this neighborhood before this girl should come to
+care for him; for if she should, by heavens! he shall marry her, if every
+acre of the estate were to go to a cousin ten times removed!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were not these people all strangers to you t' other day, Fossbrooke?&rdquo;
+ said Cave, in something like a tone of reprehension.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So they were. I had never so much as heard of them; but she, this girl,
+has a claim upon my interest, founded on a resemblance so strong that when
+I see her, I live back again in the long past, and find myself in converse
+with the dearest friends I ever had. I vow to Heaven I never knew the
+bitterness of want of fortune till now! I never felt how powerless and
+insignificant poverty can make a man till I desired to contribute to this
+girl's happiness; and if I were not an old worthless wreck,&mdash;shattered
+and unseaworthy,&mdash;I 'd set to work to-morrow to refit and try to make
+a fortune to bestow on her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If Cave was half disposed to banter the old man on what seemed little
+short of a devoted attachment, the agitation of Fossbrooke's manner&mdash;his
+trembling lip, his shaking voice, his changing color&mdash;all warned him
+to forbear, and abstain from what might well have proved a perilous
+freedom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will dine with us at mess, Fossbrooke, won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I shall return at once to Killaloe. I made Dr. Lendrick's
+acquaintance just as I started by the train. I want to see more of him.
+Besides, now that I know what was the emergency that called young Trafford
+up here, I have nothing to detain me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall you see him before you go?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course. I am going over to his quarters now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will not mention our conversation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd like to show you my letter before I send it off. I 'd be glad to
+think it was what you recommended.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Write what you feel to be a fair statement of the case, and if by any
+chance an inclination to partiality crosses you, let it be in favor of the
+young. Take my word for it, Cave, there is a selfishness in age that needs
+no ally. Stand by the sons; the fathers and mothers will take care of
+themselves. Good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XII. A GREAT MAN'S SCHOOLFELLOW
+</h2>
+<p>
+Whether it was that the Chief Baron had thrown off an attack which had
+long menaced him, and whose slow approaches had gradually impaired his
+strength and diminished his mental activity, or whether, as some of his
+&ldquo;friends&rdquo; suggested, that the old man's tenure of life had been renewed by
+the impertinences of the newspapers and the insolent attacks of political
+foes,&mdash;an explanation not by any means far-fetched,&mdash;whatever
+the cause, he came out of his illness with all the signs of renewed vigor,
+and with a degree of mental acuteness that he had not enjoyed for many
+years before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie tells me that this attack has inserted another life in my lease,&rdquo;
+ said he; &ldquo;and I am glad of it. It is right that the men who speculated on
+my death should be reminded of the uncertainty of life by the negative
+proof. It is well, too, that there should be men long-lived enough to
+bridge over periods of mediocrity, and connect the triumphs of the past
+with the coming glories of the future. We are surely not destined to a
+perpetuity of Pendletons and Fitzgibbons?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was thus he discoursed to an old legal comrade,&mdash;who, less gifted
+and less fortunate, still wore his stuff gown, and pleaded for the outer
+bar,&mdash;poor old Billy Haire, the dreariest advocate, and one of the
+honestest fellows that ever carried his bag into court. While nearly all
+of his contemporaries had risen to rank and eminence, Billy toiled on
+through life with small success, liked by his friends, respected by the
+world, but the terror of attorneys, who only saw in him the type of
+adverse decisions and unfavorable verdicts.
+</p>
+<p>
+For forty-odd years had he lived a life that any but himself would have
+deemed martyrdom,&mdash;his law laughed at, his eloquence ridiculed, his
+manner mimicked, jeered at by the bench, quizzed by the bar, sneered at by
+the newspapers, every absurd story tagged to his name, every stupid
+blunder fathered on him, till at last, as it were, by the mere force of
+years, the world came to recognize the incomparable temper that no
+provocation had ever been able to irritate, the grand nature that rose
+above all resentment, and would think better of its fellows than these
+moods of spiteful wit or impertinent drollery might seem to entitle them
+to.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old Judge liked him; he liked his manly simplicity of character, his
+truthfulness, and his honesty; but perhaps more than all these, did he
+like his dulness. It was so pleasant to him to pelt this poor heavy man
+with smart epigrams and pungent sarcasms on all that was doing in the
+world, and see the hopeless effort he made to follow him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Billy, too, had another use; he alone, of all the Chief Baron's friends,
+could tell him what was the current gossip of the hall,&mdash;what men
+thought, or at least what they said of him. The genuine simplicity of
+Haire's nature gave to his revelations a character so devoid of all
+spitefulness,&mdash;it was so evident that, in repeating, he never
+identified himself with his story that Lendrick would listen to words from
+him that, coming from another, his resentment would have repelled with
+indignation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you tell me that the story now is, my whole attack was nothing but
+temper?&rdquo; said the old Judge, as the two men walked slowly up and down on
+the grass lawn before the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not that exactly; but they say that constitutional irritability had much
+to say to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was, in fact, such a seizure as, with a man like yourself, would have
+been a mere nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sure of it, sir; and what more do they say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All sorts of things, which, of course, they know nothing about. Some have
+it that you refused the peerage, others that it was not offered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; said the old man, irritably, while a faint flush tinged his cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They say, too,&rdquo; continued Haire, &ldquo;that when the Viceroy informed you that
+you were not to be made a peer, you said: 'Let the Crown look to it, then.
+The Revenue cases all come to my court; and so long as I sit there, they
+shall never have a verdict.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must have invented that yourself, Billy,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a
+droll malice in his eye. &ldquo;Come, confess it is your own. It is <i>so</i>
+like you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, on my honor,&rdquo; said the other, solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not that I would take it ill, Haire, if you had. When a man has a turn
+for epigram, his friends must extend their indulgence to the humor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you, positively, it is not mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is quite enough; let us talk of something else. By the way, I have a
+letter to show you. I put it in my pocket this morning, to let you see it;
+but, first of all, I must show you the writer,&mdash;here she is.&rdquo; He drew
+forth a small miniature case, and, opening it, handed it to the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a handsome girl! downright beautiful!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My granddaughter, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, I never saw a lovelier face,&rdquo; said Haire. &ldquo;She must be a rare
+cheat if she be not as good as she is beautiful. What a sweet mouth!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The brow is fine; there is a high intelligence about the eyes and the
+temples.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the smile, that little lurking smile, that captivates me. What may
+her age be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Something close on twenty. Now for her letter. Read that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While Haire perused the letter, the old Judge sauntered away, looking from
+time to time at the miniature, and muttering some low inaudible words as
+he went.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I understand it. I am at a loss to catch what she is
+drifting at,&rdquo; said Haire, as he finished the first side of the letter.
+&ldquo;What is she so grateful for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You think the case is one which calls for little gratitude, then. What a
+sarcastic mood you are in this morning, Haire!&rdquo; said the Judge, with a
+malicious twinkle of the eye. &ldquo;Still, there are young ladies in the world
+who would vouchsafe to bear me company in requital for being placed at the
+head of such a house as this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can make nothing of it,&rdquo; said the other, hopelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The case is this,&rdquo; said the Judge, as he drew his arm within the other's.
+&ldquo;Tom Lendrick has beeu offered a post of some value&mdash;some value to a
+man poor as he is&mdash;at the Cape. I have told him that his acceptance
+in no way involves me. I have told those who have offered the place that I
+stand aloof in the whole negotiation,&mdash;that in their advancement of
+my son they establish no claim upon <i>me</i>, I have even said I will
+know nothing whatever of the incident.&rdquo; He paused for some minutes, and
+then went on: &ldquo;I have told Tom, however, if his circumstances were such as
+to dispose him to avail himself of this offer, that&mdash;until he assured
+himself that the place was one to his liking, that it gave a reasonable
+prospect of permanence, that the climate was salubrious, and the society
+not distasteful&mdash;I would take his daughter to live with me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has a son, too, has n't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has, sir, and he fain would have induced me to take <i>him</i> instead
+of the girl; but this I would not listen to. I have not nerves for the
+loud speech and boisterous vitality of a young fellow of four or five and
+twenty. His very vigor would be a standing insult to me, and the fellow
+would know it. When men come to my age, they want a mild atmosphere in
+morals and manners, as well as in climate. My son's physiology has not
+taught him this, doctor though he be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see,&mdash;I see it all now,&rdquo; said Haire; &ldquo;and the girl, though sorry
+to be separated from her father, is gratified by the thought of becoming a
+tie between him and you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is not in the record, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, sternly. &ldquo;Keep to your
+brief.&rdquo; He took the letter sharply from the other's hand as he spoke. &ldquo;My
+granddaughter has not had much experience of life; but her woman's tact
+has told her that her real difficulty&mdash;her only one, perhaps&mdash;will
+be with Lady Lendrick. She cannot know that Lady Lendrick's authority in
+this house is nothing,&mdash;less than nothing. I would never have invited
+her to come here, had it been otherwise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you apprised Lady Lendrick of this arrangement?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; nor shall I. it shall be for you to do that 'officiously,' as
+the French say, to distinguish from what is called 'officially.' I mean
+you to call upon her and say, in the course of conversation, informally,
+accidentally, that Miss Lendrick's arrival at the Priory has been
+deferred, or that it is fixed for such a date,&mdash;in fact, sir,
+whatever your own nice tact may deem the neatest mode of alluding to the
+topic, leaving to her the reply. You understand me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not so sure that I do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much the better; your simplicity will be more inscrutable than your
+subtlety, Haire. I can deal with the one&mdash;the other masters me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare frankly I don't like the mission. I was never, so to say, a
+favorite with her Ladyship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Neither was I, sir,&rdquo; said the other, with a peremptory loudness that was
+almost startling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hadn't you better intimate it by a few lines in a note? Had n't you
+better say that, having seen your son during his late visit to town, and
+learnt his intention to accept a colonial appointment&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All this would be apologetic, sir, and must not be thought of. Don't you
+know, Haire, that every unnecessary affidavit is a flaw in a man's case?
+Go and see her; your very awkwardness will imply a secret, and she 'll be
+so well pleased with her acuteness in discovering the mystery, she 'll
+half forget its offence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me clearly understand what I' ve got to do. I 'm to tell her or to
+let her find out that you have been reconciled to your son Tom?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is not a word of reconciliation, sir, in all your instructions. You
+are to limit yourself to the statement that touches my granddaughter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well; it will be so much the easier. I'm to say, then, that you have
+adopted her, and placed her at the head of your house; that she is to live
+here in all respects as its mistress?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He paused; and as the Judge bowed a concurrence, he went on: &ldquo;Of course
+you will allow me to add that I was never consulted; that you did not ask
+my opinion, and that I never gave one?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are at liberty to, say all this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would even say that I don't exactly see how the thing will work. A very
+young girl, with of course a limited experience of life, will have no
+common difficulties in dealing with a world so new and strange,
+particularly without the companionship of one of her own sex.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot promise to supply that want, but she shall see as much of <i>you</i>
+as possible.&rdquo; And the words were uttered with a blended courtesy and
+malice, of which he was perfect master. Poor Haire, however, only saw the
+complimentary part, and hurriedly pledged himself to be at Miss Lendrick's
+orders at all times.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come and let me show you how I mean to lodge her. I intend her to feel a
+perfect independence of me and my humors. We are to see each other from
+inclination, not constraint: I intend, sir that we should live on good
+terms; and as the Church will have nothing to say to the compact, it is
+possible it may succeed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These rooms are to be hers,&rdquo; said he, opening a door which offered a <i>vista</i>
+through several handsomely furnished rooms, all looking out upon a neatly
+kept flower-garden. &ldquo;Lady Lendrick, I believe, had long since destined
+them for a son and daughter-in-law of hers, who are on their way home from
+India. The plan will be now all the more difficult of accomplishment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which will not make my communication to her the pleasanter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But redound so much the more to the credit of your adroitness, Haire, if
+you succeed. Come over here this evening and report progress.&rdquo; And with
+this he nodded an easy good-bye, and strolled down the garden.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't envy Haire his brief in this case,&rdquo; muttered he. &ldquo;He'll not have
+the 'court with him,' that's certain;&rdquo; and he laughed spitefully to
+himself as he went.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIII. LAST DAYS
+</h2>
+<p>
+It may seem a hardship, but not improbably it is in its way an
+alleviation, that we are never involved in any of the great trials in life
+without having to deal with certain material embarrassments, questions of
+vulgar interest which concern our pockets and affect our finances.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Lendrick's was a case in point. He was about to leave his country,&mdash;to
+tear himself from a home he had embellished,&mdash;to separate from his
+children that he loved so dearly, to face a new life in a new land,
+friendless and alone; and with all these cares on his heart, he had
+creditors to satisfy, debts to insure payment of by security, and, not
+least of his troubles, his house to relet. Now, the value the world sets
+on that which is not for sale is very unlike its estimate for the same
+commodity when brought to market. The light claret your friend pronounced
+a very pleasant little wine at your own table, he would discover, when
+offered for purchase, to be poor, washy, and acrid. The horse you had left
+him, and whose performance he had encomiumized, if put up to auction,
+would be found spavined, or windgalled, or broken-down. Such a stern test
+is money, so fearfully does its coarse jingle jar upon all the music of
+flattery, and make discord of all compliment. To such a pitch is the
+process carried, that even pretty women, who as wives were objects of
+admiration to despairing and disappointed adorers, have become, by
+widowhood, very ordinary creatures, simply because they are once more &ldquo;in
+the market.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It is well for us that heaven itself was not in the &ldquo;Price Current,&rdquo; or we
+might have begun to think lightly of it. At all events we 'd have higgled
+about the cost, and tried to get there as cheaply as might be.
+</p>
+<p>
+From the day that the Swan's Nest appeared in the Dublin papers &ldquo;to be let
+furnished, for the three years of an unexpired term,&rdquo; Lendrick was
+besieged by letters and applications. All the world apparently wanted the
+place, but wanted it in some way or other quite out of his power to
+accord. One insisted on having it unfurnished, and for a much longer
+period than he could give. Another desired more land, and the right of
+shooting over several hundred additional acres. A third would like the
+house and garden, but would not burden himself with the lawn, and could
+not see why Lendrick might not continue to hold the meadow-land, and come
+back from the Cape or anywhere else to mow the grass and rick it in due
+season.
+</p>
+<p>
+A schoolmistress proposed he should build a dormitory for thirty young
+ladies, and make the flower-garden into a playground; and a miller from
+Limerick inquired whether he was willing to join in a suit to establish a
+right of water-power by diverting a stream from the Shannon through the
+dining-room to turn an undershot wheel.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was marvellous with what patience and courtesy Lendrick replied to
+these and such-like, politely assuring the writers how he regretted his
+inability to meet their wishes, and modestly confessing that he had
+neither the money nor the time to make his house other than it was.
+</p>
+<p>
+All these, however, were as nothing to his trials when the day arrived
+when the house and grounds, in the language of the advertisement, were &ldquo;on
+view,&rdquo; and the world of the curious and idle were free to invade the
+place, stroll at will through rooms and gardens, comment and criticise not
+merely the objects before them, but the taste and the fortunes, the habits
+and the lives of those who had made this their home, and these things part
+of their own natures.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a half-jesting humor, but really to save Lendrick from a mortification
+which, to a nature timid and sensitive as his, would have been torture,
+Sir Brook and Tom agreed to divide the labors of ciceroneship between
+them; the former devoting his attentions to the house and furniture, while
+Tom assumed the charge of grounds and gardens. To complete the
+arrangement, Lendrick and Lucy were banished to a small summer-house, and
+strictly enjoined never to venture abroad so long as the stranger horde
+overran the territory.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, my dear, I almost think the remedy worse than the disease,&rdquo;
+ said Lendrick to his daughter, as he paced with short feverish steps the
+narrow limits of his prison-house. &ldquo;This isolation here has something
+secret, something that suggests shame about it. I think I could almost
+rather face all the remarks our visitors might make than sit down here to
+fancy and brood over them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect not, dearest papa; I believe the plan will spare us much that
+might pain us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;After all, child, these people have a right to be critical, and they are
+not bound to know by what associations you and I are tied to that old
+garden-seat or that bookstand, and we ought to be able to avoid showing
+them this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps we ought, papa; but could we do so? that's-the question.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Surely the tradesman affects no such squeamishness about what he offers
+for sale.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;True, papa; because none of his wares have caught any clew to his
+identity. They have never been his in the sense which makes possession
+pleasure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish they would not laugh without there; their coarse laughter sounds
+to me so like vulgar ridicule. I hardly thought all this would have made
+me so irritable; even the children's voices jar on my nerves.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He turned away his head, but her eyes followed him, and two heavy tears
+stole slowly along her cheek, and her lip quivered as she looked.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, they are going away,&rdquo; said he, listening; &ldquo;I am better now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's right, dearest papa; I knew it was a mere passing pang,&rdquo; said
+she, drawing her arm within his, and walking along at his side. &ldquo;How kind
+Sir Brook is!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How kind every one, we might say. Poor Mills is like a brother, and Tobin
+too,&mdash;I scarcely expected so much heart from him. He gave me his old
+lancet-case as a keepsake yesterday, and I declare his voice trembled as
+he said good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As for the poor people, I hear, papa, that one would think they had lost
+their nearest and dearest. Molly Dew says they were crying in her house
+this morning over their breakfast as if it was a funeral.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it not strange, Lucy, that what touches the heart so painfully should
+help to heal the pang it gives? There is that in all this affection for us
+that gladdens while it grieves. All,&mdash;all are so kind to us! That
+young fellow&mdash;Trafford I think his name is&mdash;he was waiting at
+the post for his letters this morning when I came up, and it seems that
+Foss-brooke had told him of my appointment,&mdash;indiscreet of him, for I
+would not wish it talked of; but Trafford turned to him and said, 'Ask Dr.
+Lendrick, is he decided about going;' and when he heard that I was, he
+scarcely said goodbye, but jumped into a cab, and drove off full speed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'What does that mean?' asked I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'He was so fond of Tom,' said Fossbrooke, 'they were never separate this
+last month or five weeks;' so you see, darling, each of us has his sphere
+of love and affection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy was crimson over face and neck, but never spoke a word. Had she
+spoken it would have been, perhaps, to corroborate Sir Brook, and to say
+how fond the young men were of each other. I do not affirm this, I only
+hint that it is likely. Where there are blanks in this narrative, the
+reader has as much right to fill them as myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Brook,&rdquo; continued Lendrick, &ldquo;thinks well of the young man; but for my
+own part I hardly like to see Tom in close companionship with one so much
+his superior in fortune. He is easily led, and has not yet learned that
+stern lesson in life, how to confess that there are many things he has no
+pretension to aspire to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tom loves you too sincerely, papa, ever to do that which would seriously
+grieve you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He would not deliberately,&mdash;he would not in cold blood, Lucy; but
+young men, when together, have not many moods of deliberation or cold
+blood. But let us not speculate on trouble that may never come. It is
+enough for the present that he and Trafford are separated, if Trafford was
+even likely to lead him into ways of extravagance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What 's that! Is n't it, Tom? He's laughing heartily at something. Yes;
+here he comes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may come out; the last of them has just driven off,&rdquo; cried Tom,
+knocking at the door, while he continued to laugh on immoderately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it, Tom? What are you laughing at?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You should have seen it; it's nothing to tell, but it was wonderful to
+witness. I'll never forget it as long as I live.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what was it?&rdquo; asked she, impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought we had fully done with all our visitors,&mdash;and a rum set
+they were, most of them, not thinking of taking the place, but come out of
+mere curiosity,&mdash;when who should drive up with two postilions and
+four spicy grays but Lady Drumcarran and a large party, three horsemen
+following? I just caught the word 'Excellency,' and found out from one of
+the servants that a tall old man with white hair and very heavy eyebrows
+was the Lord-Lieutenant. He stooped a good deal, and walked tenderly; and
+as the Countess was most eager about the grounds and the gardens, they
+parted company very soon, he going into the house to sit down, while she
+prosecuted her inquiries without doors.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I took him into the library; we had a long chat about fishing, and
+fish-curing, and the London markets, and flax, and national education, and
+land-tenure, and such-like. Of course I affected not to know who he was,
+and I took the opportunity to say scores of impertinences about the
+stupidity of the Castle, and the sort of men they send over here to govern
+us; and he asked me if I was destined for any career or profession, and I
+told him frankly that whenever I took up anything I always was sure to
+discover it was the one very thing that didn't suit me; and as I made this
+unlucky discovery in law, medicine, and the Church, I had given up my
+college career, and was now in a sort of interregnal period, wondering
+what it was to be next. I did n't like to own that the <i>res angusto</i>
+had anything to say to it. It was no business of his to know about that.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You surely have friends able and willing to suggest something that would
+fit you,' said he. 'Is not the Chief Baron your grandfather?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Yes, and he might make me crier of his court; but I think he has
+promised the reversion to his butler. The fact is, I 'd not do over well
+with any fixed responsibilities attached to me. I 'd rather be a guerilla
+than serve in the regulars, and so I 'll just wait and see if something
+won't turn up in that undisciplined force I 'd like to serve with.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I 'll give you my name,' said he, 'before we part, and possibly I may
+know some one who might be of use to you.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thanked him coolly, and we talked of something else, when there came a
+short plump little fellow, all beard and gold chains, to say that Lady
+Drumcarran was waiting for him. 'Tell her I'm coming,' said he; 'and,
+Balfour,' he cried out, 'before you go away, give this gentleman my
+address, and if he should call, take care that I see him.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Balfour eyed me, and I eyed him, with, I take it, pretty much the same
+result, which said plainly enough, 'You 're not the man for me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'What in heaven's name is this?' cried the Viceroy, as he got outside and
+saw Lady Drumcarran at the head of a procession carrying plants, slips,
+and flower-pots down to the carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Her Ladyship has made a raid amongst the greeneries,' said Balfour, 'and
+tipped the head-gardener, that tall fellow there with the yellow
+rose-tree; as the place is going to be sold, she thought she might well do
+a little genteel pillage.' Curious to see who our gardener could be, all
+the more that he was said to be 'tall,' I went forward, and what do you
+think I saw? Sir Brook, with a flower-pot under one arm, and a quantity of
+cuttings under the other, walking a little after the Countess, who was
+evidently giving him ample directions as to her intentions. I could
+scarcely refrain from an outburst of laughing, but I got away into the
+shrubbery and watched the whole proceedings. I was too far off to hear,
+but this much I saw. Sir Brook had deposited his rose-tree and his slips
+on the rumble, and stood beside the carriage with his hat off. When his
+Excellency came up, a sudden movement took place in the group, and the
+Viceroy, seeming to push his way through the others, cried out something I
+could not catch, and then grasped Sir Brook's hand with both his own. All
+was tumult in a moment. My Lady, in evident confusion and shame,&mdash;that
+much I could see,&mdash;was courtesying deeply to Sir Brook, who seemed
+not to understand her apologies&mdash;, at least, he appeared stately and
+courteous, as usual, and not in the slightest degree put out or chagrined
+by the incident. Though Lady Drumcarran was profuse of her excuses, and
+most eager to make amends for her mistake, the Viceroy took Sir Brook's
+arm and led him off to a little distance, where they talked together for a
+few moments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'It's a promise, then, Fossbrooke,&mdash;you promise me!' cried he aloud,
+as he approached the carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Rely upon me,&mdash;and within a week, or ten days at farthest,' said
+Sir Brook, as they drove away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not seen him since, and I scarcely know if I shall be able to meet
+him without laughing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here he comes,&rdquo; cried Lucy; &ldquo;and take care, Tom, that you do nothing that
+might offend him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The caution was so far unnecessary that Sir Brook's manner, as he drew
+near, had a certain stately dignity that invited no raillery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have been detained a long time a prisoner, Dr. Len-drick,&rdquo; said
+Fossbrooke, calmly; &ldquo;but your visitors were so charmed with all they saw
+that they lingered on, unwilling to take their leave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tom tells me we had some of our county notabilities,&mdash;Lord and Lady
+Drumcarran, the Lacys, and others,&rdquo; said Lendrick.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; and the Lord-Lieutenant, too, whom I used to know at Christ Church.
+He would have been well pleased to have met you. He told me your father
+was the ablest and most brilliant talker he ever knew.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! we are very unlike,&rdquo; said Lendrick, blushing modestly. &ldquo;Did he give
+any hint as to whether his party are pleased or the reverse with my
+father's late conduct?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He only said, 'I wish you knew him, Fossbrooke; I sincerely wish you knew
+him, if only to assure him that he will meet far more generous treatment
+from us than from the Opposition.' He added that we were men to suit each
+other; and this, of course, was a flattery for which I am very grateful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the tall man with the stoop was the Lord-Lieutenant?&rdquo; asked Tom. &ldquo;I
+passed half an hour or more with him in the library, and he invited me to
+call upon him, and told a young fellow, named Balfour, to give me his
+address, which he forgot to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We can go together, if you have no objection; for I, too, have promised
+to pay my respects,&rdquo; said Sir Brook.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tom was delighted at the suggestion, but whispered in his sister's ear, as
+they passed out into the garden, &ldquo;I thought I 'd have burst my sides
+laughing when I met him; but it's the very last thing in my thoughts now.
+I declare I 'd as soon pull a tiger's whiskers as venture on the smallest
+liberty with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think you are right, Tom,&rdquo; said she, squeezing his arm affectionately,
+to show that she not alone agreed with him, but was pleased that he had
+given her the opportunity of doing so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder is he telling the governor what happened this morning? It can
+scarcely be that, though, they look so grave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa seems agitated too,&rdquo; said Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I just caught Trafford's name as they passed. I hope he 's not saying
+anything against him. It is not only that Lionel Trafford is as good a
+fellow as ever lived, but that he fully believes Fossbrooke likes him. I
+don't think he could be so false; do you, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm certain he is not. There, papa is beckoning to you; he wants you;&rdquo;
+ and Lucy turned hurriedly away, anxious to conceal her emotion, for her
+cheeks were burning, and her lips trembled with agitation.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIV. TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was decided on that evening that Sir Brook and Tom should set out for
+Dublin the next morning. Lucy knew not why this sudden determination had
+been come to, and Tom, who never yet had kept a secret from her, was now
+reserved and uncommunicative. Nor was it merely that he held aloof his
+confidence, but he was short and snappish in his manner, as though she had
+someway vexed him, and vexed him in some shape that he could not openly
+speak of or resent.
+</p>
+<p>
+This was very new to her from him, and yet how was it? She had not courage
+to ask for an explanation. Tom was not exactly one of those people of whom
+it was pleasant to ask explanations., Where the matter to be explained
+might be one of delicacy, he had a way of abruptly blurting out the very
+thing one would have desired might be kept back. Just as an awkward
+surgeon will tear off the dressing, and set a wound a-bleeding, would he
+rudely destroy the work of time in healing by a moment of rash impatience.
+It was knowing this&mdash;knowing it well&mdash;that deterred Lucy from
+asking what might lead to something not over-agreeable to hear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I pack your portmanteau, Tom?&rdquo; asked she. It was a task that always
+fell to her lot.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; Nicholas can do it,&mdash;any one can do it,&rdquo; said he, as he mumbled
+with an unlit cigar between his teeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You used to say I always did it best, Tom,&mdash;that I never forgot
+anything,&rdquo; said she, caressingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps I did,&mdash;perhaps I thought so. Look here, Lucy,&rdquo; said he, as
+though by an immense effort he had got strength to say what he wanted, &ldquo;I
+am half vexed with you, if not more than half.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Vexed with me, Tom,&mdash;vexed with <i>me!</i> and for what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think that you need ask. I am inclined to believe that you know
+perfectly well what I mean, and what I would much rather not say, if you
+will only let me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not,&rdquo; said she, slowly and deliberately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean to say, Lucy,&rdquo; said he, and his manner was almost stern as he
+spoke, &ldquo;that you have no secrets from me, that you are as frank and
+outspoken with me today as you were three months ago?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then what's the meaning of this letter?&rdquo; cried he, as, carried away by a
+burst of passion, he overstepped all the prudential reserve he had sworn
+to himself to regard. &ldquo;What does this mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing of that letter, nor what it contains,&rdquo; said she, blushing
+till her very brow became crimson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't suppose you do, for though it is addressed to you, the seal is
+unbroken; but you know whose handwriting it's in, and you know that you
+have had others from the same quarter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the writing is Mr. Trafford's,&rdquo; said she, as a deathlike
+paleness spread over her face, &ldquo;because he himself once asked me to read a
+letter from him in the same handwriting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which you did?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I refused. I handed the letter back to him unopened, and said that,
+as I certainly should not write to him without my father's knowledge and
+permission, I would not read a letter from him without the same.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what was the epistle, then, that the vicar's housekeeper handed him
+from you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That same letter I have spoken of. He left it on my table, insisting and
+believing that on second thoughts I would read it. He thought so because
+it was not to me, though addressed to me, but the copy of a letter he had
+written to his mother, about me certainly.&rdquo; Here she blushed deeply again.
+&ldquo;As I continued, however, of the same mind, determined not to see what the
+letter contained, I re-enclosed it and gave it to Mrs. Brennan to hand to
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all this you kept a secret from me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was not my secret. It was his. It was his till such time as he could
+speak of it to my father, and this he told me had not yet come.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never asked him that. I do not think, Tom,&rdquo; said she, with much
+emotion, &ldquo;it was such a question as you would have had me ask.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you love&mdash;Come, darling Lucy, don't be angry with me. I never
+meant to wound your feelings. Don't sob that way, my dear, dear Lucy. You
+know what a rough coarse fellow I am; but I'd rather die than offend you.
+Why did you not tell me of all this? I never liked any one so well as
+Trafford, and why leave me to the chance of misconstruing him? Would n't
+it have been the best way to have trusted me as you always have?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't see what there was to have confided to you. Mr. Trafford might,
+if he wished. I mean, that if there was a secret at all. I don't know what
+I mean,&rdquo; cried she, covering her face with her handkerchief, while a
+convulsive motion of her shoulders showed how she was moved.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am as glad as if I had got a thousand pounds, to know you have been so
+right, so thoroughly right, in all this, Lucy; and I am glad, too, that
+Trafford has done nothing to make me think less well of him. Let's be
+friends; give me your hand, like a dear, good girl, and forgive me if I
+have said what pained you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not angry, Tom,&rdquo; said she, giving her hand, but with her head still
+averted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;God knows it's not the time for us to fall out,&rdquo; said he, with a shaking
+voice. &ldquo;Going to separate as we are, and when to be together again not so
+easy to imagine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are surely going out with papa?&rdquo; asked she, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; they say not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who says not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The governor himself&mdash;Sir Brook&mdash;old Mills&mdash;everybody, in
+fact. They have held a committee of the whole house on it. I think
+Nicholas was present too; and it has been decided that as I am very much
+given to idleness, bitter beer, and cigars, I ought not to be anywhere
+where these ingredients compose the chief part of existence. Now the Cape
+is precisely one of these places; and if you abstract the idleness, the
+bitter beer, and the tobacco, there is nothing left but a little
+Hottentotism, which is neither pleasant nor profitable. Voted, therefore,
+I am not to go to the Cape. It is much easier, however, to open the
+geography books, and show all the places I am unfit for, than to hit upon
+the one that will suit me. And so I am going up to Dublin to-morrow with
+Sir Brook to consult&mdash;I don't well know whom, perhaps a
+fortune-teller&mdash;what 's to be done with me. All I do know is, I am to
+see my grandfather, and to wait on the Viceroy, and I don't anticipate
+that any of us will derive much pleasure from either event.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom! what happiness it would be to me if grandpapa&mdash;&rdquo; She
+stopped, blushed, and tried in vain to go on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which is about the least likely thing in the world, Lucy,&rdquo; said he,
+answering her unspoken sentence. &ldquo;I am just the sort of creature he could
+n't abide,&mdash;not to add that, from all I have heard of him, I 'd
+rather take three years with hard labor at the hulks than live with him.
+It will do very well with you. You have patience, and a soft forgiving
+disposition. You 'll fancy yourself, besides, Heaven knows what of a
+heroine, for submitting to his atrocious temper, and imagine slavery to be
+martyrdom. Now, I could n't. I 'd let him understand that I was one of the
+family, and had a born right to be as ill-tempered, as selfish, and as
+unmannerly as any other Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But if he should like you, Tom? If you made a favorable impression upon
+him when you met?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I should, I think I 'd go over to South Carolina, and ask some one to
+buy me as a negro, for I 'd know in my heart it was all I could be fit
+for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my dear, dear Tom, I wish you would meet him in a different spirit,
+if only for poor papa's sake. You know what store he lays by grandpapa's
+affection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see it, and it puzzles me. If any one should continue to ill-treat me
+for five-and-twenty years, I 'd not think of beginning to forgive him till
+after fifty more, and I 'm not quite sure I 'd succeed then.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you are to meet him, Tom,&rdquo; said she, hopefully. &ldquo;I trust much to your
+meeting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's more than I do, Lucy. Indeed, I 'd not go at all, except on the
+condition which I have made with myself, to accept nothing from him. I had
+not meant to tell you this; but it has escaped me, and can't be helped.
+Don't hang your head and pout your lip over that bad boy, brother Tom. I
+intend to be as submissive and as humble in our interview as if I was
+going to owe my life to him, just because I want him to be very kind and
+gracious to you; and I 'd not wish to give him any reason for saying harsh
+things of me, which would hurt you to listen to. If I only knew how&mdash;and
+I protest I do not&mdash;I'd even try and make a favorable impression upon
+him, for I 'd like to be able to come and see you, Lucy, now and then, and
+it would be a sore blow to me if he forbade me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't think I'd remain under his roof if he should do so?&rdquo; asked she,
+indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not if you saw him turn me away,&mdash;shutting the door in my face; but
+what scores of civil ways there are of intimating that one is not welcome!
+But why imagine all these?&mdash;none of them may happen; and, as Sir
+Brook says, the worst misfortunes of life are those that never come to us;
+and I, for one, am determined to deal only with real, actual, present
+enemies. Is n't he a rare old fellow?&mdash;don't you like him, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like him greatly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He loves you, Lucy,&mdash;he told me so; he said you were so like a girl
+whose godfather he was, and that he had loved her as if she were his own.
+Whether she had died, or whether something had happened that estranged
+them, I could n't make out; but he said you had raised up some old
+half-dead embers in his heart, and kindled a flame where he had thought
+all was to be cold forever; and the tears came into his eyes, and that
+great deep voice of his grew fainter and fainter, and something that
+sounded like a sob stopped him. I always knew he was a brave,
+stout-hearted, gallant fellow; but that he could feel like this I never
+imagined. I almost think it was some girl he was going to be married to
+once that you must be so like. Don't you think so?&rdquo; &ldquo;I don't know; I
+cannot even guess,&rdquo; said she, slowly. &ldquo;It's not exactly the sort of nature
+where one would expect to find much sentiment; but, as he said one day,
+some old hearts are like old chateaux, with strange old chambers in them
+that none have traversed for years and years, and with all the old
+furniture moth-eaten and crumbling, but standing just where it used to be.
+I 'd not wonder if it was of himself he was speaking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She remained silent and thoughtful, and he went on,&mdash;&ldquo;There's a deal
+of romance under that quaint stern exterior. What do you think he said
+this morning?&mdash;'Your father's heart is wrapped up in this place, Tom;
+let us set to work to make money and buy it for him. 'I did not believe he
+was serious, and I said some stupid nonsense about a diamond necklace and
+ear-rings for you on the day of presentation; and he turned upon me with a
+fierce look, and in a voice trembling with anger, said, 'Well, sir, and
+whom would they become better? Is it her birth or her beauty would
+disparage them, if they were the jewels of a crown?' I know I 'll not
+cross another whim of his in the same fashion again; though he came to my
+room afterwards to make an apology for the tone in which he had spoken,
+and assured me it should never be repeated.&rdquo; &ldquo;I hope you told him you had
+not felt offended.&rdquo; &ldquo;I did more,&mdash;I did, at least, what pleased him
+more,&mdash;I said I was delighted with that plan of his about buying up
+the Nest, and that the very thought gave a zest to any pursuit I might
+engage in; and so, Lucy, it is settled between us that if his Excellency
+won't make me something with a fine salary and large perquisites, Sir
+Brook and I are to set out I'm not very sure where, and we are to do I'm
+not quite certain what; but two such clever fellows, uniting experience
+with energy, can't fail, and the double event&mdash;I mean the estate and
+the diamonds&mdash;are just as good as won already. Well, what do you
+want, Nicholas?&rdquo; cried Tom, as the grim old man put his head inside the
+door and retired again, mumbling something as he went. &ldquo;Oh, I remember it
+now; he has been tormenting the governor all day about getting him some
+place,&mdash;some situation or other; and the old rascal thinks we are the
+most ungrateful wretches under the sun, to be so full of our own affairs
+and so forgetful of his: we are certainly not likely to leave him
+unprovided for; he can't imagine that. Here he comes again. My father is
+gone into Killaloe, Nicholas; but don't be uneasy, he 'll not forget you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Forgettin's one thing, Master Tom, and rememberin's the right way is
+another,&rdquo; said Nicholas, sternly. &ldquo;I told him yesterday, and I repeated it
+to-day, I won't go among them Hottentots.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has he asked you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did he ask me?&rdquo; repeated the old man, leaning forward and eying him
+fiercely,&mdash;&ldquo;did he ask me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My brother means, Nicholas, that papa could n't expect you to go so far
+away from your home and your friends.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where's my home and my friends?&rdquo; cried the irascible old fellow; &ldquo;and
+I forty-eight years in the family? Is that the way to have a home or
+friends either?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Tom, no,&mdash;I entreat&mdash;I beg of you,&rdquo; said Lucy, standing
+between her brother and the old man, and placing her hand on Tom's lips;
+&ldquo;you know well that he can't help it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's just it,&rdquo; cried Nicholas, catching the words; &ldquo;I can't help it. I
+'m too old to help it. It is n't after eight-and-forty years one ought to
+be looking out for new sarvice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa hopes that grandpapa will have no objection to taking you, Nicholas;
+he means to write about it to-day; but if there should be a difficulty, he
+has another place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe I'm to 'list and be a sodger; faix, it wouldn't be much worse than
+going back to your grandfather.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, you discontented old fool,&rdquo; burst in Tom, &ldquo;have n't you been teasing
+our souls out these ten years back by your stories of the fine life you
+led in the Chief Baron's house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The eatin' was better, and the drinkin' was better,&rdquo; said Nicholas,
+resolutely. &ldquo;Wherever the devil it comes from, the small beer here bangs
+Banagher; but for the matter of temper he was one of yourselves! and by my
+sowl, it's a family not easily matched!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I agree with you; any other man than my father would have pitched you
+neck and crop into the Shannon years ago,&mdash;I 'll be shot if I would
+n't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mind them words. What you said there is a threat; it's what the law makes
+a constructive threat, and we 'll see what the Coorts say to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, Nicholas, you would provoke any one; you will let no one be
+your friend,&rdquo; said Lucy; and taking her brother's arm she led him away,
+while the old man, watching them till they entered the shrubbery, seated
+himself leisurely in a deep arm-chair, and wiped the perspiration from his
+forehead. &ldquo;By my conscience,&rdquo; muttered he, &ldquo;it takes two years off my life
+every day I have to keep yez in order.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XV. MR. HAIRE'S MISSION.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Although the Chief Baron had assured Haire that his mission had no
+difficulty about it, that he 'd find her Ladyship would receive him in a
+very courteous spirit, and, finally, that &ldquo;he'd do the thing&rdquo; admirably,
+the unhappy little lawyer approached his task with considerable
+misgivings, which culminated in actual terror as he knocked at the door of
+the house where Lady Lendrick resided in Merrion Square, and sent up his
+name.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The ladies are still in committee, sir,&rdquo; said a bland-looking, usher-like
+personage, who, taking up Haire's card from the salver, scanned the name
+with a half-supercilious look.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In committee! ah, indeed, I was not aware,&rdquo; stammered out Haire. &ldquo;I
+suspect&mdash;that is&mdash;I have reason to believe her Ladyship is aware&mdash;I
+mean my name is not unknown to Lady Lendrick&mdash;would you kindly
+present my card?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take it up, Bates,&rdquo; said the man in black, and then turned away to
+address another person, for the hall was crowded with people of various
+conditions and ranks, and who showed in their air and manner a something
+of anxiety, if not of impatience.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. MacClean,&mdash;where's Mr. MacClean?&rdquo; cried a man in livery, as he
+held forth a square-shaped letter. &ldquo;Is Mr. MacClean there?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I'm Mr. MacClean,&rdquo; said a red-faced, fussy-looking man. &ldquo;I'm Mr.
+George Henry MacClean, of 41 Mount Street.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Two tickets for Mr. MacClean,&rdquo; said the usher, handing him the letter
+with a polite bow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Nolan, Balls Bridge,&mdash;does any one represent Mr. Nolan of Balls
+Bridge?&rdquo; said the usher, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's me,&rdquo; said a short man, who wiped the perspiration from his face
+with a red-spotted handkerchief, as large as a small bed-quilt,&mdash;&ldquo;that's
+me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The references not satisfactory, Mr. Nolan,&rdquo; said the usher, reading from
+a paper in his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not satisfactory?&mdash;what do you mean? Is Peter Arkins, Esquire, of
+Clontarf, unsatisfactory? Is Mr. Ryland, of Abbey Street, unsatisfactory?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am really, sir, unable to afford you the explanation you desire. I am
+simply deputed by her Ladyship to return the reply that I find written
+here. The noise is really so great here I can hear nothing. Who are you
+asking for, Bates?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Mortimer O'Hagan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's gone away,&rdquo; cried a voice; &ldquo;he was here since eleven o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Application refused. Will some one tell Mr. O'Hagan his application is
+refused?&rdquo; said the usher, austerely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Might I be bold enough to ask what is going forward?&rdquo; whispered Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. W. Haire, Ely Place,&rdquo; shouted out the man in livery. &ldquo;Card refused
+for want of a reference.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought to have sent up two names,&mdash;well-known names, Mr. Haire,&rdquo;
+ said the usher, with a politeness that seemed marked. &ldquo;It's not too late
+yet; let me see,&rdquo; and he looked at his watch, &ldquo;we want a quarter to one;
+be back here in half an hour. Take a car,&mdash;you 'll find one at the
+door. Get your names, and I 'll see if I can't do it for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am afraid I don't understand you, and I am sure you don't understand
+me. I came here by appointment&mdash;&rdquo; The rest of the sentence was lost
+by a considerable bustle and movement that now ensued, for a number of
+ladies descended the stairs, chatting and laughing freely; while servants
+rushed hither and thither, calling up carriages, or inquiring for others
+not yet come. The usher, frantically pushing the crowd aside to clear a
+path for the ladies, was profuse of apologies for the confusion; adding at
+the same time that &ldquo;it was twice as bad an hour ago. There were n't less
+than two hundred here this morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A number of little pleasantries passed as the bland usher handed the
+ladies to their carriages; and it was evident by their laughter that his
+remarks were deemed pungent and witty. Meanwhile the hall was becoming
+deserted. The persons who had crowded there, descending singly or in
+groups, went their several ways, leaving Haire the only one behind. &ldquo;And
+now, sir,&rdquo; said the usher, &ldquo;you see it's all over. You would n't take my
+advice. They are all gone, and it's the last meeting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you favor me so far as to say for what did they meet? What was the
+object of the gathering?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose, sir, you are not a reader of the morning papers?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Occasionally. Indeed, I always glance at them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, and has not your glance fallen upon the announcement of the
+ball,&mdash;the grand ball to be given at the-Rotundo for the orphan
+asylum called the 'Rogues Redemptory,' at Rathmines, at the head of whose
+patronesses stands my Lady's name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire shook his head in negative.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And have you not come like the rest with an application for permission to
+attend the ball?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I have come to speak to Lady Lendrick&mdash;and by appointment too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A faint but prolonged &ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; expressed the usher's-astonishment, and he
+turned and whispered a few words to-a footman at his side. He disappeared,
+and returned in &amp; moment to say that her Ladyship would see Mr. Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust you will forgive me, sir,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick,&mdash;a very
+large, very showy, and still handsome woman,&mdash;as she motioned him to
+be seated. &ldquo;I got your card when my head was so full of this tiresome
+ball, and I made the absurd mistake of supposing you came for tickets. You
+are, I think your note says, an old friend of Mr. Thomas-Lendrick?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am an old friend of his father's. Madam! The Chief Baron and myself
+were schoolfellows.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes: I have no doubt,&rdquo; said she, hurriedly; &ldquo;but from your note&mdash;I
+have it here somewhere,&rdquo; and she rummaged amongst a lot of papers that
+littered the table,&mdash;&ldquo;your note gave me to understand that your visit
+to me regarded Mr. Thomas Lendrick, and not the Chief Baron. It is
+possible, however, I may have mistaken your meaning. I wish I could find
+it. I laid it out of my hand a moment ago. Oh, here it is! now we shall
+see which of us is right,&rdquo; and with a sort of triumph she opened the
+letter and read aloud, slurring over the few commencing lines till she
+came to &ldquo;that I may explain to your Ladyship the circumstances by which
+Mr. Thomas Lendrick's home will for the present be broken up, and entreat
+of you to extend to his daughter the same kind interest and favor you have
+so constantly extended to her father.&rdquo; &ldquo;Now, sir, I hope I may say that it
+is not <i>I</i> have been mistaken. If I read this passage aright, it
+bespeaks my consideration for a young lady who will shortly need a home
+and a protectress.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose I expressed myself very ill. I mean, Madam, I take it, that in
+my endeavor not to employ any abruptness, I may have fallen into some
+obscurity. Shall I own, besides,&rdquo; added he, with a tone of
+half-desperation in his voice, &ldquo;that I had no fancy for this mission of
+mine at all,&mdash;that I undertook it wholly against my will? Baron
+Len-drick's broken health, my old friendship for him, his insistence,&mdash;and
+you can understand what <i>that</i> is, eh?&rdquo;&mdash;he thought she was
+about to speak; but she only gave a faint equivocal sort of smile, and he
+went on: &ldquo;All these together overcame my scruples, and I agreed to come.&rdquo;
+ He paused here as though he had made the fullest and most ample
+explanation, and that it was now her turn to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;go on; I am all ears for your communication.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There it is: that 's the whole of it, Madam. You are to understand
+distinctly that with the arrangement itself I had no concern whatever.
+Baron Lendrick never asked my advice; I never tendered it. I 'm not sure
+that I should have concurred with his notions,&mdash;but that 's nothing
+to the purpose; all that I consented to was to come here, to tell you the
+thing is so, and why it is so&mdash;there!&rdquo; and with this he wiped his
+forehead, for the exertion had heated and fatigued him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know I 'm very dull, very slow of comprehension; and in compassion for
+this defect, will you kindly make your explanation a little, a very
+little, fuller? What is it that is <i>so?</i>&rdquo; and she emphasized the last
+word with a marked sarcasm in her tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I can see that your Ladyship may not quite like it. There is no
+reason why you should like it,&mdash;all things considered; but, after
+all, it may turn out very well. If she suit him, if she can hit it off
+with his temper,&mdash;and she may,&mdash;young folks have often more
+forbearance than older ones,&mdash;there 's no saying what it may lead
+to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Once for all, sir,&rdquo; said she, haughtily, for her temper was sorely tried,
+&ldquo;what is this thing which I am not to like, and yet bound to bear?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I said that; I trust I never said your Ladyship was bound
+to bear anything. So well as I can recall the Chief Baron's words,&mdash;and,
+God forgive me, but I wish I was&mdash;no matter what or where&mdash;when
+I heard them,&mdash;this is the substance of what he said: 'Tell her,'
+meaning your Ladyship,&mdash;'tell her that, rightly understood, the
+presence of my granddaughter as mistress of my house&mdash;'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you say, sir?&mdash;is Miss Lendrick coming to reside at the
+Priory?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course&mdash;what else have I been saying this half-hour?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To take the position of lady of the house?&rdquo; said she, not deigning to
+notice his question.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so, Madam.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, sir, bold as the step is,&rdquo;&mdash;she arose as she spoke, and
+drew herself haughtily up,&mdash;&ldquo;bold as the step is, it is not half so
+bold as your own courage in coming to tell of it. What the Chief Baron had
+not the hardihood to communicate in writing, you dare to deliver to me by
+word of mouth,&mdash;you dare to announce to me that my place, the station
+I ought to fill, is to be occupied by another, and that whenever I pass
+the threshold of the Priory, I come as the guest of Lucy Lendrick! I do
+hope, sir, I may attribute to the confusion of your faculties&mdash;a
+confusion of which this short interview has given me proof&mdash;that you
+really never rightly apprehended the ignominy of the mission your friend
+intrusted to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 're right there,&rdquo; said he, placing both his hands on the side of his
+head; &ldquo;confusion is just the name for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; but I apprehend you must have undertaken this office in a calm
+moment, and let me ask you how you could have lent yourself to such a
+task? You are aware, for the whole world is aware, that in living apart
+from the Chief Baron I am yielding to a necessity imposed by his horrible,
+his insufferable temper; now, how long will this explanation be valid, if
+my place in any respect should be occupied by another? The isolation in
+which he now lives, his estrangement from the world, serve to show that he
+has withdrawn from society, and accepted the position of a recluse. Will
+this continue now? Will these be the habits of the house with a young lady
+at its bead, free to indulge all the caprices of ignorant girlhood? I
+declare, sir, I wonder how a little consideration for your friend might
+not have led you to warn him against the indiscretion he was about to
+commit. The slight to me,&rdquo; said she, sarcastically, and flushing deeply,
+&ldquo;it was possible you might overlook; but I scarcely see how you could have
+forgotten the stain that must attach to that 'large intellect,&mdash;that
+wise and truly great man.' I am quoting a paragraph I read in the 'Post'
+this morning, with which, perhaps, you are familiar.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not see it,&rdquo; said Haire, helplessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, sir, I was unjust enough to think you wrote it. I thought no
+one short of him who had come on your errand to-day could have been the
+author.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I wish with all my heart I 'd never come,&rdquo; said he, with a
+melancholy gesture of his hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, sir, I am not surprised at your confession. I suppose you are
+not aware that in the very moment adopted for this&mdash;this&mdash;this
+new establishment, there is something like studied insult to me. It is
+only ten days ago I mentioned to the Chief Baron that my son, Colonel
+Sewell, was coming back from India on a sick-leave. He has a wife and
+three little children, and, like most soldiers, is not over-well off. I
+suggested that as the Priory was a large roomy house, with abundant space
+for many people without in the slightest degree interfering with each
+other, he should offer the Sewells to take them in. I said nothing more,&mdash;nothing
+about <i>ménage</i>,&mdash;no details of any kind. I simply said: &ldquo;Could
+n't you give the Sewells the rooms that look out on the back lawn? Nobody
+ever enters them; even when you receive in the summer evenings, they are
+not opened. It would be a great boon to an invalid to be housed so
+quietly, so removed from all noise and bustle.' And to mark how I intended
+no more, I added, 'They would n't bore you, nor need you ever see them
+unless you wished for it.' And what was his reply? 'Madam, I never liked
+soldiers. I 'm not sure that his young wife would n't be displeasing to
+me, and I know that his children would be insufferable.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I said, 'Let me take the dear children, then.' 'Do, by all means, and
+their dear parents also,' he broke in. 'I should be in despair if I
+thought I had separated you.' Yes, sir, I give you his very words. This
+wise and truly great man, or truly wise and great&mdash;which is it?&mdash;had
+nothing more generous nor more courteous to say to me than a sarcasm and
+an impertinence. Are you not proud of your friend?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Never was there a more unlucky peroration, from the day when Lord Denman
+concluded an eloquent defence of a queen's innocence by appealing to the
+unhappy illustration which called forth the touching words, &ldquo;Let him that
+is without sin cast the first stone at her.&rdquo; Never was there a more signal
+blunder than to ask this man to repudiate the friendship which had formed
+the whole pride and glory of his life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think I <i>am</i> proud of him, Madam,&rdquo; said he, rising, and
+speaking with a boldness that amazed even himself. &ldquo;I was proud to be his
+class-fellow at school; I was proud to sit in the same division with him
+in college,&mdash;proud when he won his gold medal and carried off his
+fellowship. It was a proud day to me when I saw him take his seat on the
+bench; and my heart nearly burst with pride when he placed me on his right
+hand at dinner, and told the Benchers and the Bar that we had walked the
+road of life together, and that the grasp of my hand&mdash;he called it my
+honest hand&mdash;had been the ever-present earnest of each success he had
+achieved in his career. Yes, Madam, I am very proud of him; and my heart
+must be cold indeed before I cease to be proud of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, sir, you astonish, you amaze me. I was well aware how that
+truly great and wise man had often inspired the eloquence of attack. Many
+have assailed&mdash;many have vituperated him; but that any one should
+have delivered a panegyric on the inestimable value of his friendship!&mdash;his
+friendship, of all things!&mdash;is what I was not prepared for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire heard the ringing raillery of her laugh; he was stung by he knew not
+what tortures of her scornful impertinence; bitter, biting words, very
+cruel words, too, fell over and around him like a sort of hail; they beat
+on his face and rattled over his head and shoulders. He was conscious of a
+storm, and conscious too that he sought neither shelter nor defence, but
+only tried to fly before the hurricane, whither he knew not.
+</p>
+<p>
+How he quitted that room, descended the stairs, and escaped from the
+house, he never was able to recall. He was far away outside the city
+wandering along through an unfrequented suburb ere he came to his full
+consciousness, murmuring to himself ever as he went, &ldquo;What a woman, what a
+woman! what a temper,&mdash;ay, and what a tongue!&rdquo; Without any guidance
+of his own&mdash;without any consciousness of it&mdash;he walked on and
+on, till he found himself at the gate-lodge of the Priory; a carriage was
+just passing in, and he stopped to ask whose it was. It was the Chief
+Baron's granddaughter who had arrived that morning by train. He turned
+back when he heard this, and returned to town. &ldquo;Whether you like it or
+not, Lady Lendrick, it is done now, and there 's no good in carrying on
+the issue after the verdict.&rdquo; And with this reflection, embodying possibly
+as much wisdom as his whole career had taught him, he hastened homeward,
+secretly determining, if he possibly could, never to reveal anything to
+the Chief Baron of his late interview with Lady Lendrick.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVI. SORROWS AND PROJECTS
+</h2>
+<p>
+Dr. Lendrick and his son still lingered at the Swan's Nest after Lucy's
+departure for the Priory. Lendrick, with many things to arrange and
+prepare for his coming voyage, was still so overcome by the thought of
+breaking up his home and parting from his children, that he could not
+address his mind to anything like business. He would wander about for
+hours through the garden and the shrubberies, taking leave, as he called
+it, of his dear plants and flowers, and come back to the house distressed
+and miserable. Often and often would he declare to Sir Brook, who was his
+guest, that the struggle was too much for him. &ldquo;I never was a man of ardor
+or energy, and it is not now, when I have passed the middle term of life,
+that I am to hope for that spring and elasticity which were denied to my
+youth. Better for me send for Lucy, and stay where I am; nowhere shall I
+be so happy again.&rdquo; Then would come the sudden thought that all this was
+mere selfishness, that in this life of inaction and indolence he was
+making no provision for that dear girl be loved so well. Whatever hopes
+the reconciliation with his father might lead to, would of course be
+utterly scattered to the winds by an act so full of disobedience as this.
+&ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;I may fail abroad as I have failed at home.
+Success and I are scarcely on speaking terms,&mdash;but the grandfather
+cannot leave the granddaughter whom he has taken from her home, totally
+uncared and unprovided for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As for young Tom, Sir Brook had pledged himself to-take care of him. It
+was a vague expression enough; it might mean anything, everything, or
+nothing. Sir Brook Fossbrooke had certainly, in worldly parlance, not
+taken very good care of himself,&mdash;far from it; he had squandered and
+made away with two large estates and an immense sum in ready money. It was
+true he had friends everywhere,&mdash;some of them very great people with
+abundant influence, and well able to help those they cared for; but
+Fossbrooke was not one of those who ask; and the world has not yet come to
+the millennial beatitude in which one's friends importune them with
+inquiries how they are to be helped, what and where they wish for.
+</p>
+<p>
+Many a time in the course of country-house life&mdash;at breakfast, as the
+post came in, and during the day, as a messenger would deliver a telegram&mdash;some
+great man would say, &ldquo;There is a vacancy there&mdash;such a one has died&mdash;so-and-so
+has retired. There's a thing to suit you, Fossbrooke,&rdquo;&mdash;and Sir Brook
+would smile, say a word or two that implied nothing, and so would end the
+matter. If &ldquo;my Lord&rdquo; ever retained any memory of the circumstance some
+time after, it would be that he had offered something to Fossbrooke, who
+would n't take it, did n't care for it. For so is it throughout life; the
+event which to one is the veriest trifle of the hour, is to another a fate
+and a fortune; and then, great folk who lead lives of ease and security
+are very prone to forget that humble men have often a pride very
+disproportioned to their condition, and are timidly averse to stretch out
+the hand for what it is just possible it may not be intended they should
+touch.
+</p>
+<p>
+At all events, Fossbrooke went his way through the world a mystery to many
+and a puzzle,&mdash;some averring that it was a shame to his friends in
+power that he had &ldquo;got nothing,&rdquo; others as stoutly declaring that he was
+one whom no office would tempt, nor would any place requite him for the
+loss of liberty and independence.
+</p>
+<p>
+He himself was well aware of each of these theories, but too proud to say
+a word to those who professed either of them. If, however, he was too
+haughty to ask for himself, he was by no means above being a suitor for
+his friends; and many a one owed to his active solicitude the advancement
+which none stood more in need of than himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We shall make the Viceroy do something for us, Tom,&rdquo; he would say. &ldquo;Think
+over what it shall be,&mdash;for that's the invariable question, What is
+it you want? And it's better far to say, Make me an archbishop, than have
+to own that you want anything, and are, maybe, fit for nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Though Lendrick was well disposed towards Fossbrooke, and fully sensible
+of his manly honesty and frankness, he could not help seeing that he was
+one of those impulsive sanguine natures that gain nothing from experience
+beyond the gift of companionship. They acquire all that can make them
+delightful in society,&mdash;boons they are,&mdash;and especially to those
+whose more prudent temperament inclines them to employ their gifts more
+profitably. Scores of these self-made men, rich to overflowing with all
+that wealth could buy around them, would say, What a happy fellow was
+Fossbrooke! what a blessing it was to have his nature, his spirits,
+buoyancy, and such-like,&mdash;to be able to enjoy life as he did! Perhaps
+they believed all that they said too,&mdash;who knows? When they made such
+speeches to himself, as they would at times, he heard them with the
+haughty humility of one who hears himself praised for that which the
+flatterer deems a thing too low for envy. He well understood how cheaply
+others estimated his wares, for they were a scrip that figured in no
+share-list, and never were quoted at a premium.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lendrick read him very correctly, and naturally thought that a more
+practical and a more worldly guide would have been better for Tom,&mdash;some
+one to hold him back, not to urge him forward; some one to whisper
+prudence, restraint, denial,&mdash;not daring, and dash, and indulgence.
+But somehow these flighty, imaginative, speculative men have very often a
+wonderful persuasiveness about them, and can give to the wildest dreams a
+marvellous air of substance and reality. A life so full of strange
+vicissitudes as Fossbrooke's seemed a guarantee for any&mdash;no matter
+what&mdash;turn of fortune. Hear him tell of where he had been, what he
+had done, and with whom, and you at once felt you were in presence of one
+to whom no ordinary laws of worldly caution or prudence applied.
+</p>
+<p>
+That his life had compassed many failures and few successes was plain
+enough. He never sought to hide the fact.
+</p>
+<p>
+Indeed, he was candor itself in his confessions, only that he accompanied
+them by little explanations, showing the exact spot and moment in which he
+had lost the game. It was wonderful what credit he seemed to derive from
+these disclosures. It was like an honest trader showing his balance-sheet
+to prove that, but for the occurrence of such ills as no prudence could
+ward off, his condition must have been one of prosperity.
+</p>
+<p>
+Never did he say anything more truthful than that &ldquo;he had never cared for
+money.&rdquo; So long as he had it he used it lavishly, thoughtlessly, very
+often generously. When he ceased to have it, the want scarcely appeared to
+touch him personally. Indeed, it was only when some necessity presented
+itself to aid this one or extricate that, he would suddenly remember his
+impotence to be of use, and then the sting of his poverty would sorely
+pain him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Like all men who have suffered reverses, he had to experience the
+different acceptance he met with in his days of humble fortune from what
+greeted him in his era of prosperity. If he felt this, none could detect
+it. His bearing and manner betrayed nothing of such consciousness. A very
+slight increase of stateliness might possibly have marked him in his
+poverty, and an air of more reserved dignity, which showed itself in his
+manner to strangers. In all other respects he was the same.
+</p>
+<p>
+That such a character should have exercised a great influence over a young
+man like Tom Lendrick&mdash;ardent, impetuous, and desirous of adventure&mdash;was
+not strange.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We must make a fortune for Lucy, Tom,&rdquo; said Sir Brook. &ldquo;Your father's
+nature is too fine strung to be a money-maker, and she must be cared for.&rdquo;
+ This was a desire which he continued to utter day after day; and though
+Fossbrooke usually smoked on after he had said it without any intimation
+as to where and when and how this same fortune was to be amassed, Tom
+Lendrick placed the most implicit faith in the assurance that it would be
+done &ldquo;somehow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+One morning as Lendrick was walking with his son in the garden, making, as
+he called it, his farewell visit to his tulips and moss-roses, he asked
+Tom if any fixed plan had been decided on as to his future.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have got several, sir. The difficulty is the choice. Sir Brook was at
+one time very full of buying a great tract in Donegal, and stocking it
+with all sorts of wild animals. We began with deer, antelopes, and
+chamois; and last night we got to wolves, bears, and a tiger. We were to
+have a most commodious shooting-box, and invite parties to come and sport,
+who, instead of going to Bohemia, the Rocky Mountains, and to Africa,
+would find all their savagery near home, and pay us splendidly for the
+privilege.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are some difficulties in the plan, it is true; our beasts might not
+be easy to keep within bounds. The jaguar might make an excursion into the
+market-town; the bear might eat a butcher. Sir Brook, besides, doubts if
+<i>fero</i> could be preserved under the game laws. He has sent a case to
+Brewster for his opinion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't tell me of such absurdities,&rdquo; said Lendrick, trying to repress his
+quiet laugh. &ldquo;I want you to speak seriously and reasonably.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you, sir, we have the whole details of this on paper, even to
+the cost of the beasts, and the pensions to the widows of the keepers that
+may be devoured. Another plan that we had, and it looked plausible enough
+too, was to take out a patent for a wonderful medical antidote. As Sir
+Brook says, there is nothing like a patent medicine to make a man rich;
+and by good luck he is possessed of the materials for one. He has the
+secret for curing the bite of the rattlesnake. He got it from a Tuscarora
+Indian, who, I believe, was a sort of father-in-law to him. Three
+applications of this to the wound have never been known to fail.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But we are not infested with rattlesnakes, Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's true, sir. We thought of that, and decided that we should alter
+the prospectus of our company, and we have called it 'The antidote to an
+evil of stupendous magnitude and daily recurrence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A new method of flotation in water, by inflating the cellular membrane to
+produce buoyancy; a translation of the historical plays of Shakspeare into
+Tonga, for the interesting inhabitants of those islands; artificial
+rainfall by means of the voltaic battery: these are a few of his jottings
+down in a little book in manuscript he has entitled 'Things to be Done.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His favorite project, however, is one he has revolved for years in his
+mind, and he is fully satisfied that it contains the germ of boundless
+wealth. It has been shown, he says, that in the smoke issuing from the
+chimneys of great smelt-ing-furnaces, particles of subtilized metal are
+carried away to the amount of thousands of pounds sterling: not merely is
+the quantity great, but the quality, as might be inferred, is of the most
+valuable and precious kind. To arrest and precipitate this waste is his
+project, and he has been for years making experiments to this end. He has
+at length, he believes, arrived at the long-sought-for problem; and as he
+possesses a lead-mine in the island of Sardinia, he means that we should
+set out there, and at once begin operations.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Dr. Lendrick shook his head gravely as he listeued; indeed, Tom's manner
+in detailing Sir Brook's projects was little calculated to inspire serious
+confidence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know, father,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;what you mean. I know well how wild and
+flighty these things appear; but if you had only heard them from him,&mdash;had
+you but listened to his voice, and heard him speak of his own doubts and
+fears,&mdash;how he canvasses, not merely the value of his project, but
+what the world will say of it and of him,&mdash;how modestly he rates
+himself,&mdash;how free of all the cant of the discoverer he is,&mdash;how
+simply he enters into explanations,&mdash;how free to own the difficulties
+that bar success,&mdash;I say, if you had experienced these, I feel sure
+you would not escape from him without catching some of that malady of
+speculation which has so long beset him. Nor is one less disposed to trust
+him that he makes no parade of these things. Indeed, they are his deepest,
+most inviolable secrets. In his intercourse with the world no one has ever
+heard him allude to one of these projects, and I have given him my solemn
+pledge not to speak of them, save to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a reason to think better of the man, Tom, but not to put more faith
+in the discoveries.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe I take the man and his work together; at all events, when I am
+along with him, and listening to him, he carries me away captive, and I am
+ready to embark in any enterprise he suggests. Here he comes, with two
+letters, I see, in his hand. Did you ever see a man less like a visionary,
+father? Is not every trait of his marked with thought and struggle?&rdquo; This
+was not the way Tom's father read Fossbrooke, but there was no time to
+discuss the point further.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A letter for each of you,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, handing them; and then taking
+out a cigar, he strolled down an alley, while they were engaged in
+reading.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have got a tenant at last,&rdquo; said Lendrick. &ldquo;The Dublin house-agent has
+found some one who will take the place as it stands; and now, to think of
+my voyage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVII. A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY.
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was well for poor Lendrick that he was not to witness the great change
+which, in a few short weeks, had been effected in his once home. So
+complete, indeed, was the transformation, there was but very little left
+beyond the natural outline of the scenery to remind one of that lovely
+nook in which the tasteful cottage nestled. The conservatory had been
+converted into a dining-room; the former dinner-room being fitted up for a
+billiard-room. The Swiss cowhouse, a pretty little conceit, on which
+Lendrick had lavished some money and more time, was turned into a stable,
+with three loose boxes; and the neat lawn, whose velvet sward was scarce
+less beautiful than the glittering flower-beds that studded it, was
+ruthlessly cut up into a racecourse, with hurdles and fences and double
+ditches, to represent a stiff country, and offer all the features of a
+steeple-chase.
+</p>
+<p>
+It needed not the assurance of Mr. Kimball, the house-agent, to proclaim
+that his client was very unlike the last occupant of the place. &ldquo;<i>He</i>
+was no recluse, no wretched misanthropist, hiding his discontent amongst
+shrubs and forcing-beds; he was a man of taste and refinement, with
+knowledge of life and its requirements. He would be an acquisition to any
+neighborhood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Now, the last phrase&mdash;and he invariably made it his peroration&mdash;has
+a very wide and sweeping acceptation. It appeals to the neighborhood with
+all the charms that pertain to social intercourse; a guest the more and a
+host the more are no small claims in small places. It appeals to the
+parson, as another fountain from which to draw draughts of benevolence. To
+the doctor it whispers fees and familiar dinners. Galen knows that the
+luckiest of men are not exempt from human ills, and that gout comes as a
+frequent guest where the cook is good and the wine tempting; and the
+butcher himself revels in the thought of a &ldquo;good family&rdquo; that consumes
+sirloins and forestalls sweetbreads.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was somewhat trying to young Tom Lendrick, who had gone down to the
+Nest to fetch away some remnants of fishing-tackle he had left there, to
+hear these glowing anticipations of the new-comer, so evidently placed in
+contrast with the quiet and inexpensive life his father had led. How
+unlike were his father and this &ldquo;acquisition to any neighborhood,&rdquo; was
+impressed upon him at any moment! How could a life of unobtrusive
+kindness, of those daily ministerings to poor men's wants, compete with
+the glitter and display which were to adorn a neighborhood?
+</p>
+<p>
+Already were people beginning to talk of Lendrick as odd, eccentric,
+peculiar; to set down his finest qualities as strange traits of a strange
+temperament, and rather, on the whole, to give themselves credit for the
+patience and forbearance which they had shown to one who, after all, was
+&ldquo;simply an egotist.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Yes, such are not unfrequent judgments in this same world of ours; and if
+you would have men's suffrages for the good you do, take care that you do
+it conventionally. Be in all things like those around you; and if there be
+a great man in your vicinity, whenever a doubt arises in your mind as to
+any course of action, do as you may imagine he might do.
+</p>
+<p>
+Young Lendrick came away not a little disgusted with this taste of human
+fickleness. The sight of their old home changed even to desecration was
+bad enough, but this cold ingratitude was worse.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had he gone into the cabins of the poor, had he visited the humble
+dwellings where his father's generous devotion had brought him face to
+face with famine and fever, he would have heard much to redress the
+balance of these opinions. He would have heard those warm praises that
+come from sorrow-stricken hearts, the wail of the friendless and forlorn.
+Tom heard not these, and he returned to town with a feeling of anger and
+resentment against the world he had never known before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How absurd it is in old Fossbrooke,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;to go on saying money
+cannot do this, that, and t'other! Why, it can do everything. It does not
+alone make a man great, powerful, and influential, but it gains him the
+praise of being good and kind and generous. Look at my poor father, who
+never had a thought but for others, who postponed himself to all around
+him; and yet here is some one, whose very name is unknown, more eagerly
+looked for, more ardently desired, than would he be were it to be
+announced to-morrow he was coming back to live amongst them. What nonsense
+it is to say that the world cares for any qualities save those it can
+utilize; and I am only amazed how a man could have seen so much of life as
+Sir Brook and gained so little by his experience.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was in this mood he got back to the little lodging in a humble suburb
+called Cullen's Wood, where Sir Brook awaited him. It is not impossible
+that the disparities of temperament in this world are just as beneficial,
+just as grateful, as are the boundless variety and change we find in
+nature. To Tom Lendrick's depression, almost disgust with life, Sir Brook
+brought that bright, hopeful, happy spirit which knew how to throw
+sunlight on every path to be travelled.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had received good news, or what he thought was good news, from
+Sardinia. A new vein of ore had been struck,&mdash;very &ldquo;fat&rdquo; ore they
+called it,&mdash;some eighty-odd per cent, and a fair promise of silver in
+it. &ldquo;They ask me for thirty thousand francs, though, Tom,&rdquo; said he, with a
+smile; &ldquo;they might as well have written 'pounds' when they were about it.
+They want to repair the engine and erect a new crane. They say, too, the
+chains are worn and unsafe,&mdash;a thing to be looked to, or we shall
+have some accidents. In fact, they need fully double what they ask for;
+and seeing how impossible was the performance, I am astonished at their
+modesty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do you mean to do, sir?&rdquo; asked Tom, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have been thinking of two courses: my first thought was to make a
+formal conveyance of the mine to you and your sister, for your joint use
+and benefit. This done, and I standing aloof from all possible interest in
+it, I bethought me of a loan to be raised on the security of the property,&mdash;not
+publicly, not generally, but amongst your father's friends and
+well-wishers,&mdash;beginning with the neighborhood where he has lived so
+long, and around which he has sowed the seeds of such benefits as needs
+must ripen in gratitude.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indulge no delusions on that score, sir. There is not a man in the
+county, except old Mills the vicar, perhaps, has a good word for us; and
+as to going to one of them for assistance, I 'd rather sweep a crossing.
+You shake your head, Sir Brook, and you smile at my passionate
+denunciation; but it is true, every word of it. I heard, in the few hours
+I spent there, scores of stories of my poor father's eccentricity,&mdash;his
+forgetfulness, his absence, and what not,&mdash;but never a syllable of
+his noble liberality, his self-sacrifice, or his gentleness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Tom,&rdquo; said the old man, solemnly, &ldquo;when you have lived to
+one-half my age, you will discover that the world is not so much cursed
+with ill-nature as with levity, and that when men talk disparagingly of
+their fellows, they do so rather to seem witty than to be just. There was
+not, perhaps, one of those who tried to raise a laugh at your father's
+oddities, or who assumed to be droll at his expense, who would not in a
+serious mood have conceded to him every good and great trait of his
+nature. The first step in worldly knowledge is to rise above all
+consideration of light gossip. Take my word for it, we often confirm men
+in wrong thinking by opposition, who, if left to themselves and their own
+hearts, would review their judgments, and even retract them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom took a hasty turn up and down the room; a ready reply was on his lip;
+indeed, it was with difficulty he repressed it, but he did so, and stood
+in seeming acquiescence to what he had heard. At last he said, &ldquo;And the
+other plan, Sir Brook,&mdash;what was that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps a more likely one, Tom,&rdquo; said the old man, cheerfully. &ldquo;It was to
+apply directly to your grandfather, a man whose great intelligence would
+enable him to examine a project with whose details he had not ever before
+versed himself, and ask whether he would not make the advance we require
+on mortgage or otherwise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I 'd like to ask him,&rdquo; said Tom, with a grim smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The proposal could come from me,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, proudly, &ldquo;if he would
+graciously accord me an interview.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom turned away to hide a smile, for he thought, if such a meeting were to
+take place, what he would give to be an unseen witness of it,&mdash;to
+watch the duel between antagonists so different, and whose weapons were so
+unlike.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My sister knows him better than any of us,&rdquo; said Tom, at last; &ldquo;might I
+consult her as to the likelihood of any success with him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By all means; it is what I would have myself advised.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will do so, then, to-day. I ought to have gone to see her yesterday;
+but I will go to-day, and report progress when I come back. I have a long
+budget for her,&rdquo; added he, with a sigh,&mdash;&ldquo;a catalogue of all the
+things I am not going to do. I am not going to be a medallist, nor win a
+fellowship, nor even be a doctor; it will, however, give me great courage
+if I can say, I 'll be a miner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom Lendrick was right when he said he should have gone to see his sister
+on the day before, though he was not fully aware how right. The Chief
+Baron, in laying down a few rules for Lucy's guidance, made a point of
+insisting that she should only receive visitors on one day of the week;
+and in this regulation he included even her brother. So averse was the old
+man to be exposed to even a passing meeting with strangers, that on these
+Tuesdays he either kept his room or retired to a little garden of which he
+kept the key, and from whose precincts all were rigorously excluded.
+</p>
+<p>
+Well knowing her brother's impatience of anything like restricted liberty,
+and how rapidly he would connect such an injunction as this with a life of
+servitude and endurance, Lucy took care to make the time of receiving him
+appear a matter of her own choice and convenience, and at the time of
+parting would say, &ldquo;Good-bye till Tuesday, Tom; don't forget Tuesday, for
+we shall be sure to be alone and to ourselves.&rdquo; He the more easily
+believed this, that on these same Tuesdays the whole place seemed deserted
+and desolate. The grave-looking man in black, who preceded him up the
+stairs, ushered him along the corridor, and finally announced him, awaited
+him like a piece of machinery, repeating every movement and gesture with
+an unbroken uniformity, and giving him to understand that not only his
+coming was expected, but all the details of his reception had been
+carefully prescribed and determined on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I follow that fellow along the passage, Lucy,&rdquo; said Tom, one day, &ldquo;I
+can't help thinking that I experience every sensation of a man going to be
+hanged,&mdash;his solemn face, his measured tread, the silence, and the
+gloom,&mdash;only needing pinioned arms to make the illusion perfect.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tie them around me, dearest Tom,&rdquo; said she, laughing, and drawing him to
+a seat beside her on the sofa; &ldquo;and remember,&rdquo; added she, &ldquo;you have a long
+day. Your sentence will not come off for another week;&rdquo; and thus jestingly
+did she contrive to time his coming without ever letting him know the
+restrictions that defined his visits.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, the day before this conversation between Sir Brook and Tom took place
+being a Tuesday, Lucy had watched long and anxiously for his coming. She
+knew he had gone down to Killaloe on the preceding Saturday, but he had
+assured her he would be back and be with her by Tuesday. Lucy's life was
+far from unhappy, but it was one of unbroken uniformity, and the one sole
+glimpse of society was that meeting with her brother, whose wayward
+thoughts and capricious notions imparted to all he said a something
+striking and amusing. He usually told her how his week had been passed,&mdash;where
+he had been and with whom,&mdash;and she had learned to know his
+companions, and ask after them by name. Her chief interest was, however,
+about Sir Brook, from whom Tom usually brought a few lines, but always in
+an unsealed envelope, inscribed, &ldquo;By the favor of Mr. Lendrick, jun.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+How often would Tom quiz her about the respectful devotion of her old
+admirer, and jestingly ask her if she could consent to marry him. &ldquo;I know
+he'll ask you the question one of these days, Lucy, and it's your own
+fault if you give him such encouragement as may mislead him.&rdquo; And then
+they would talk over the romance of the old man's nature, wondering
+whether the real world would be rendered more tolerable or the reverse by
+that ideal tone which so imaginative a temperament could give it &ldquo;Is it
+not strange,&rdquo; said Tom, one day, &ldquo;that I can see all the weakness of his
+character wherever my own interests do not come, but the moment he
+presents before me some bright picture of a splendid future, a great name
+to achieve, a great fortune to make, that moment he takes me captive, and
+I regard him not as a visionary or a dreamer, but as a man of consummate
+shrewdness and great knowledge of life?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In this you resemble Sancho Panza, Tom,&rdquo; said she, laughing. &ldquo;He had
+little faith in his master's chivalry, but he implicitly believed in the
+island he was to rule over;&rdquo; and from that day forward she called her
+brother Sancho and Sir Brook the Don.
+</p>
+<p>
+On the day after that on which Tom's visit should have been but was not
+paid, Lucy sat at luncheon with her grandfather in a small breakfast-room
+which opened on the lawn. The old Judge was in unusual spirits; he had
+just received an address from the Bar, congratulating him on his recovery,
+and expressing hope that he might be soon again seen on that Bench he had
+so much ornamented by his eloquence and his wisdom. The newspapers, too,
+with a fickleness that seems their most invariable feature, spoke most
+flatteringly of his services, and placed his name beside those who had
+conferred highest honor on the judgeship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is neatly worded, Lucy,&rdquo; said the old man, taking up the paper on
+which the address was written; &ldquo;and the passage that compares me with
+Mansfield is able as well as true. Both Mansfield and myself understood
+how there stands above all written law that higher, greater, grander law,
+that is based in the heart of all humanity, in the hope of an eternal
+justice, and soars above every technicality, by the intense desire of
+truth. It would have been, however, no more than fair to have added that,
+to an intellect the equal of Mansfield, I brought a temper which Mansfield
+had not, and a manner which if found in the courts of royalty, is seldom
+met with on the Bench. I do not quite like that phrase, 'the rapid and
+unerring glance of Erskine.' Erskine was brilliant for a Scotchman, but a
+brilliant Scotchman is but a third-rate Irishman. They who penned this
+might have known as much. I am better pleased with the words, 'the noble
+dignity of Lord Eldon.' There, my child, there, they indeed have hit upon
+a characteristic. In Eldon nature seemed to have created the judicial
+element in a high degree. It would be the vulgarity of modesty to pretend
+not to recognize in my own temperament a like organization.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I read you, Lucy, the few words in which I mean to reply to this
+courteous address? Will it bore you, my dear?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On the contrary, sir, I shall feel myself honored as well as interested.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sit where you are, then, and I will retire to the far corner of the room.
+You shall judge if my voice and delivery be equal to the effort; for I
+mean to return my thanks in person, Lucy. I mean to add the force of my
+presence to the vigor of my sentiments. I have bethought me of inviting
+those who have signed this document to luncheon here; and it may probably
+be in the large drawing-room that I shall deliver this reply. If not, it
+may possibly be in my court before rising,&mdash;I have not fully
+determined.&rdquo; So saying, he arose, and with feeble steps&mdash;assisting
+himself, as he went, by the table, and then grasping a chair&mdash;he
+moved slowly across the room. She knew him too well to dare to offer her
+arm, or appear in any way to perceive his debility. That he felt, and felt
+bitterly, &ldquo;the curse of old age,&rdquo; as he once profanely called it, might be
+marked in the firm compression of his lips and the stern frown that
+settled on him, while, as he sank into a seat, a sad weary sigh declared
+the utter exhaustion that overcame him.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not till after some minutes that he rallied sufficiently to unroll
+his manuscript and adjust his spectacles. The stillness in the room was
+now perfect; not a sound was heard save the faint hum of a bee which had
+strayed into the room, and was vaguely floating about to find an exit.
+Lucy sat in an attitude of patient attention,&mdash;her hands crossed
+before her, and her eyes slightly downcast.
+</p>
+<p>
+A faint low cough, and he began, but in a voice tremulous and faint, &ldquo;'Mr.
+Chief Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar'&mdash;do you hear me, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, I hear you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will try to be more audible; I will rest for a moment.&rdquo; fie laid his
+paper on his knees, closed his eyes, and sat immovable for some seconds.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was at this moment, when to the intense stillness was added a sense of
+expectancy, the honeysuckle that grew across the window moved, the frail
+branches gave way, and a merry voice called out, &ldquo;Scene the first: a young
+lady discovered at luncheon!&rdquo; and with a spring Tom Lendrick bounced into
+the room, and, ere her cry of alarm had ended, was clasping his sister in
+his arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom, dearest Tom, why to-day? Grandpapa&mdash;grandpapa is here,&rdquo;
+ sighed she, rather than whispered, in his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+The young man started back, more struck by the emotion he had shown than
+by her words, and the Chief Baron advanced towards him with a manner of
+blended courtesy and dignity, saying, &ldquo;I am glad to know you. Your
+sister's brother must be very welcome to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I could make a proper excuse for this mode of entry, sir. First of
+all, I thought Lucy was alone; and, secondly&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind the second plea; I submit to a verdict on the first,&rdquo; said the
+Judge, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tom forgot; it was Tuesday was his day,&rdquo; began Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no day; days are all alike to me, Lucy. My occupations of Monday
+could be transferred to a Saturday, or, if need be, postponed indefinitely
+beyond it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The glorious leisure of the fortunate,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a peculiar
+smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Or the vacuity of the unlucky, possibly,&rdquo; said Tom, with an easy laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At all events, young gentleman, you carry your load jauntily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One reason is, perhaps, that I never knew it was a load. I have always
+paraded in heavy marching order, so that I don't mind the weight of my
+pack.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+For the first time did the old man's features relax into a look of kindly
+meaning. To find the youth not merely-equal to appreciate a figure of
+speech, but able to carry on the illustration, seemed so to identify him
+with his own blood and kindred that the old Judge felt himself
+instinctively drawn towards him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy, help your brother to something; there was an excellent curry there
+awhile ago,&mdash;if it be not cold.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have set my affections on that cold beef. It seems tome an age since I
+have seen a real sirloin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A slight twitch crossed the Judge's face,&mdash;a pang he felt at what
+might be an insinuated reproach at his in hospitality; and he said, in a
+tone of almost apology, &ldquo;We see no one&mdash;-absolutely no one&mdash;here.
+Lucy resigns herself to the companionship of a very dreary old man whom
+all else have forgotten.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't say so, grandpapa, on the day when such a testimony of esteem and
+affection reaches you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Young Lendrick looked up from his plate, turning his eyes first towards
+his sister, then towards his grandfather; his glance was so palpably an
+interrogatory, there was no-mistaking it. Perhaps the old man's first
+impulse was not to reply; but his courtesy or his vanity, or a blending of
+both, carried the day, and he said, in a voice of much feeling: &ldquo;Your
+sister refers to an address I have just received,&mdash;an address which
+the Irish Bar have deemed proper to transmit to me with their
+congratulations on my recovery. It is as gratifying, it is as flattering,
+as she says. My brethren have shown that they can rise above all
+consideration of sect or party in tendering their esteem to a man whom no
+administration has ever been able to convert into a partisan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you have always been a Whig, sir, haven't you?&rdquo; said Tom, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have been a Whig, sir, in the sense that a King is a Royalist,&rdquo; said
+the old man, haughtily; and though Tom felt sorely provoked to reply to
+this pretentious declaration, he only gave a wicked glance at his sister,
+and drank off his wine.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was at the moment of your unexpected appearance,&rdquo; continued the Judge,
+&ldquo;that I was discussing with your sister whether my reply to this
+compliment would come better if delivered here, or from my place on the
+Bench.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd say from the Bench,&rdquo; said Tom, as he helped himself to another slice
+of beef.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man gave a short cough, with a start. The audacity of tendering
+advice so freely and positively overcame him; and his color, faint indeed,
+rose to his withered cheek, and his eye glittered as he said, &ldquo;Might I
+have the benefit of hearing the reasons which have led you to this
+opinion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First of all,&rdquo; said Tom, in a careless off-hand way, &ldquo;I take it the thing
+would have more&mdash;what shall I say?&mdash;dignity; secondly, the men
+who have signed the address might feel they were treated with more
+consideration; and lastly,&mdash;it 's not a very good reason, but I 'm
+bound to own it,&mdash;I 'd like to hear it myself, which I could if it
+were delivered in public, but which I am not so likely to do if spoken
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom, dear Tom!&rdquo; whispered his sister, in dismay at a speech so
+certain to be accepted in its least pleasing signification.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have already to-day reminded me of my deficiencies in hospitality,
+sir. This second admonition was uncalled for. It is happy for <i>me</i>
+that my defence is unassailable. It is happy for <i>you</i> that your
+impeachment is unwitnessed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have mistaken me, sir,&rdquo; said Tom, eagerly. &ldquo;I never thought of
+reflecting on your hospitality. I simply meant to say that as I find
+myself here to-day by a lucky accident, I scarcely look to Fortune to do
+me such another good turn in a hurry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your father's fault&mdash;a fault that would have shipwrecked fourfold
+more ability than ever he possessed&mdash;was a timidity that went to very
+cowardice. He had no faith in himself, and he inspired no confidence in
+others. Yours is, if possible, a worse failing. You have boldness without
+knowledge. You have the rashness that provokes a peril, and no part of the
+skill that teaches how to meet it. It was with a wise prescience that I
+saw we should not be safe company for each other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He arose as he spoke, and, motioning back Lucy as she approached to offer
+her arm, he tottered from the room, to all seeming more overcome by
+passion than even by years and infirmity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; said Tom, as he threw his napkin on the table, and pushed his
+chair back, &ldquo;I 'll be shot if I know how I provoked that burst of anger,
+or to what I owe that very neat and candid appreciation of my character.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy threw her arm around his neck, and, bending over his shoulder till
+her face touched his own, said, &ldquo;Oh, my dearest Tom, if you only knew how
+nervous and susceptible he is, in part from his nature, but more, far
+more, from suffering and sorrow! Left to the solitude of his own bitter
+thoughts for years, without one creature to whisper a kind word or a
+hopeful thought, is it any wonder if his heart has begun to consume
+itself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Devilish bitter diet it must find it! Pass me over the Madeira, Lucy. I
+mean to have my last glass to the old gentleman's health and better
+temper.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has moments of noble generosity that would win all your love,&rdquo; said
+she, enthusiastically.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have a harder lot than ever I thought it, my poor Lucy,&rdquo; said he,
+looking into her eyes with an affectionate solicitude. &ldquo;This is so unlike
+our old home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, so unlike!&rdquo; said she; and her lip quivered and her eyes grew glazy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And can you bear it, girl? Does it not seem to you like a servitude to
+put up with such causeless passion, such capricious anger as this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shook her head mournfully, but made no answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it be your woman's nature enables you to do it, all I can say is, I
+don't envy you your sex.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, Tom, remember his years,&mdash;remember his age.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove, he took good care to remind me of my own!&mdash;not that he was
+so far wrong in what he said of me, Lucy. I felt all the while he had 'hit
+the blot,' and I would have owned it too, if he had n't taken himself off
+so quickly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you had, Tom,&mdash;if you had said but one word to this purport,&mdash;you
+would have seen how nobly forgiving he could be in an instant.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Forgiving,&mdash;humph! I don't think the forgiveness was to have come
+from <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir William wishes to speak with you, Miss Lucy,&rdquo; said the butler,
+entering hastily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must go, Tom,&mdash;good-bye. I will write to you tomorrow,&mdash;to-night,
+if I can,&mdash;good-bye, my dearest brother; be sure to come on Tuesday,&mdash;mind,
+Tuesday. You will be certain to find me alone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE FIRST LETTER HOME.
+</h2>
+<p>
+The post of the morning after the events of our last chapter brought Lucy
+a letter from her father. It was the first since his departure. What
+chapters in life are these first letters after absence! How do they open
+to us glimpses of not only new scenes and incidents, but of emotions and
+sentiments which, while we had relied upon them, we had never so palpably
+realized before! There is such ecstasy in thinking that time and space are
+no barriers against love, and that, even as we read, the heart that sent
+the message is beating with affection for us.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lendrick's letter to his daughter was full of fondness; her image had
+evidently gone with him through all the changes of the voyage, and their
+old home mingled in every thought of the new life before him. It was plain
+enough how unwillingly he turned from the past to the present, and how far
+rather he would revel in the scenes around the Shannon than turn to the
+solitary existence that awaited him beyond the seas.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I console myself, dear Lucy,&rdquo; wrote he, &ldquo;as well as I may, by thinking
+that in my great sacrifice I have earned the love of my father,&mdash;that
+love from which I have lived so long estranged, and for which my heart had
+never ceased to yearn; and I delight to think how by this time you must
+have grown into his heart, soothed many a care for him, and imparted to
+his solitary life the blessing of that bright hopefulness which gave even
+to my own dull existence a glow of glad sunshine. Out of my selfishness I
+cannot help asking you to remind him of all I have given him. And now that
+my egotism is so fully aroused, let me tell of myself. The voyage was less
+dreary than my fears had made it. I suffered at first, it is true; and
+when at last use had inured me to the sea, I fell into a sort of low
+feverish state, more the result of homesickness, perhaps, than real
+malady. It was a condition of rather depression than disease. Nothing
+could engage, nothing interest me. I could not read, neither could I
+partake in any of the various pastimes by which my fellow-voyagers
+beguiled the hours; and I found myself in that pitiable state of sinking
+daily lower and lower, without what I could call a cause for the
+depression.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have more than once in my experience as a doctor had to deal with such
+cases, and I own now that I have neither valued their intensity nor
+understood their importance. I did not, it is true, go to the vulgar
+extent of calling them hippishness; but I did the next worse thing,&mdash;I
+treated them as the offspring of an over-easy existence, of a placid
+frictionless life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With much shame do I recall how often I have rallied these poor sufferers
+on the vast space that separated them from real sorrow. There is no
+unreality, dearest Lucy, in whatever so overcomes the brain that thought
+is all but madness, and so pains the heart that the whole wish is for
+death. There are subtler influences in our nature than those that work by
+the brain or the blood, and the maladies of these have but one physician.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was my great good-fortune to have a fellow-traveller who took the
+kindest interest in me. If he could not cure, he certainly did much to
+console me. He was a young man, lately gazetted on the
+commander-in-chief's staff, and who came on board of us in the Downs from
+a frigate bound for England. It was the merest accident that he did not
+miss us and lose his passage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not a very attractive person, and it was with some astonishment that
+I heard he desired to make my acquaintance; and on meeting he said,
+'Though you have forgotten me, Dr. Lendrick, I had the honor of being
+presented to you at Killaloe by my friend Sir Brook Fossbrooke;' and I
+then remembered all about it, and how it was his features were so familiar
+to me,&mdash;very good features, too, they were, with much candor and
+manliness in the expression,&mdash;altogether a handsome young fellow, and
+with an air of good birth about him just as distinctive as his good looks.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am so unused to being singled out by a stranger as the object of
+attentions, that I never fully got over the surprise which this young
+man's attachment to me inspired; and I am not using too strong a word,
+Lucy, when I call it attachment. There might have been, at least to his
+eyes, something in our respective fortunes that suggested this drawing
+towards me. Who knows whether he too might not have parted from a loved
+home and friends!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When he first came on board, his manner was wild,&mdash;almost
+incoherent; he ran here and there, like one in search of something or of
+somebody, but whose name he had forgotten. Indeed he actually startled me
+by the eagerness with which he addressed me; and when I informed him that
+I was alone, quite alone, and as friendles as himself on board, I thought
+he would have fainted. In all this suffering and emotion I suspected that
+I found what led him to a companionship with one as sorrow-stricken as
+himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As it was, there was no care he did not bestow on me. My own dear boy
+himself could not have nursed me more tenderly, nor tried to rally my
+spirits with more affectionate solicitude. He read for me, played chess
+with me, he even lent himself to the sort of reading I liked best, to
+become more companionable to me, withdrawing all this while from the gay
+and pleasant society of young fellows like himself. In a word, Lucy, by
+his devotion to me, he sent through my heart a lurking thought, almost
+like a hope, that I must somehow have certain qualities for which the
+world at large had not yet credited me, which could make me of interest to
+a young, bright-natured creature, fresh to life and all its enjoyments;
+and from the self-esteem of this notion I really believe I drew more
+encouragement than from any amount of more avowed approbation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I feel I am not wearying you, my darling Lucy, by dwelling even with
+prolixity on what beguiled the long hours of absence, the weary, weary
+days at sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When we landed, for a time at least, I only met him now and then; he had
+his duties, and I had mine. I had to look out for a house. My
+predecessor's family are still occupying the official residence, and have
+begged of me leave to remain there a little longer. I had my visits of
+duty or compliment to make, and a whole round of little courtesies to
+perform, for which I well know I have all your sympathy. Every one was,
+however, kind and polite; some were even friendly. Indeed, my very want of
+manner, my awkward bashfulness and deficient tact, have, I can see, not
+injured me in the esteem of those whose worldly breeding and knowledge
+have taught them to be compassionate as well as courteous.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Amongst the many persons to whom I was presented I made two acquaintances
+of more than common interest to me,&mdash;I will not go farther, and say
+of any great degree of gratification. In dining with the Governor,
+yesterday week, he said, 'You will meet a relation to-day, Dr. Lendrick.
+His ship has just put in to coal, and he and his wife dine with us.'
+Though quite persuaded the Governor was laboring under some mistake, I
+waited with anxiety as the different arrivals were announced, and at last
+came Colonel and Mrs. Sewell,&mdash;the Colonel being Lady Lendrick's son
+by her first marriage,&mdash;what relation to myself all my skill in
+genealogy is unable to pronounce.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We met, however, shook hands very cordially, and I had the honor to
+conduct Mrs. Sewell to table. I am unfortunately terribly prone to first
+impressions, and all those that I entertain regarding the Colonel are
+adverse. He is a tall, handsome man, easy in manner, and with the
+readiness in speech and address that shows familiarity with life. He
+however will never suffer your eyes to meet his, never exchange a frank
+look with you, and seems, from some cause or other, to be always laboring
+under an impatient anxiety to be somewhere else than where he stands at
+the moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He asked about my father, and never waited for my reply; and he
+laughingly said, with a bad taste that shocked me, 'My mother and he never
+could hit it off together.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mrs. Sewell interested me more than her husband. She is still very
+handsome; she must at one time have been perfectly beautiful. She is very
+gentle, low-voiced, and quiet, talking with a simplicity that even I can
+detect only covers a deep knowledge of life and the world. The dread of
+her husband seems, however, to pervade all she says or does. She changes
+color when he looks at her, and if he addresses her, she sometimes seems
+about to faint. His slightest word is accepted as a command; and yet with
+all this terror&mdash;terror it was&mdash;I caught a look that once passed
+between them that actually overwhelmed me with amazement. It was the very
+look that two accomplices might have interchanged in a moment when they
+could not communicate more freely. Don't think that there is any
+exaggeration in this, Lucy, or that I am assuming to possess a finer
+insight into human motives than my neighbors; but my old craft as a doctor
+supplies me with a technical skill that no acquaintance with the mere
+surface-life of the world could have given; for the <i>Medico</i> reads
+mankind by a stronger and steadier light than ever shone out of
+conventionalities or social usages.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'We are on our way to England, to Ireland, perhaps,' he said to me, in a
+careless way; but she, not aware of his speech, told me they had been
+invited to the Priory,&mdash;a piece of information which I own startled
+me. First of all, they are not by any means like people who would be
+agreeable to my father, nor, so far as I can guess, are they persons who
+would easily sacrifice their own modes of life and habits to the wishes of
+a recluse. Least of all, dearest Lucy, do I desire this lady to be your
+companion. She has, I see, many attractive qualities; she may have others
+as good and excellent; but if I do not greatly err, her whole nature and
+being are in subjection to a very stern, cold, and unscrupulous man, and
+she is far from being all that she should be with such gifts as she
+possesses, and farther again from what she might have been with a happier
+destiny in marriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it were not that you are so certain to meet, and not improbably see
+much of these people, I should not have filled so much of my letter with
+them; but I confess to you, since I saw them they have never been out of
+my thoughts. Our relationship&mdash;if that be the name for it&mdash;led
+us rapidly into considerable intimacy; he brought his children&mdash;two
+lovely girls, and a little cherub of a boy of three years old&mdash;to see
+me yesterday, and Mrs. Sewell comes to take me to drive every day after
+luncheon. She expresses the most ardent desire to meet you, and says she
+knows you will love each other. She carried off your picture t' other day,
+and I was in real terror till I got it back again. She seemed in ecstasy
+on being told you were living with your grandfather; but I saw a look she
+shot across to her husband as I told it, and I saw his reply by another
+glance that revealed to me how my tidings had caused surprise, and
+something more than surprise.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must not set me down as fanciful or captious, dear Lucy; but the
+simple truth is, I have never had a quiet moment since I knew these
+people. They inspire me with the same sort of anxiety I have often felt
+when, in the course of my profession, some symptom has supervened in a
+case not very grave or startling in itself, but still such as I have
+always found heralding in very serious combinations. It is therefore the
+doctor as much as the father that takes alarm here.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is just possible&mdash;mind, I say possible&mdash;that I am a little
+jealous of these Sewells, for they have already seduced from me my young
+friend Lionel, who was so kind to me on the voyage. I scarcely see him
+now, he is always with them; and yesterday I heard&mdash;it may not be
+true&mdash;that he is already weary of Cape Town, and means to return home
+by the next ship,&mdash;that is, along with the Sewells, who are to sail
+on Friday.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am certain that Sewell is neither a good nor a safe companion for a
+young fellow so bashful and unsuspecting as Lionel Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are men who read the world the way certain dishonest critics quote
+a book or an article, by extracting all that is objectionable, and,
+omitting context and connection, place passage after passage in quick
+sequence. By such a process as this, human life is a pandemonium. I half
+suspect Sewell to be one of this scornful school; and if so, a most
+dangerous intimate. The heartfelt racy enjoyment of his manner, as he
+records some trait of rascality or fraud, is not more marked than the
+contemptuous sneer with which he receives a story that bears testimony to
+generosity or trustfulness, throwing over his air in each that tone of
+knowledge of life and the world that seems to say, 'These are the things
+we all of us know well, though only a few have either the manliness or the
+honesty to declare them openly.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I may have tired you with this long tirade, my dear Lucy, but I am
+pouring out to you my thoughts as they come,&mdash;come, too, out of the
+fulness of much reflection. Remember, too, my sweet child, that I have
+often told you, 'It is just some half-dozen people with whom we are
+intimate who make or mar our fate in life.' Big as the world is, we play a
+very small game in one corner of the board, and it behoves us to look well
+to those with whom we are to play it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I am jealous of the Sewells for having robbed me of my young friend, I
+am envious of himself also, for he is going back to England,&mdash;going
+back to the loved faces and scenes he has left,&mdash;going back to Home.
+There 's the word, Lucy, that gathers all that we come to live for, when
+life really is a blessing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would seem too early to pronounce, but I think I can already see this
+is not a place to which I would like to bring you; but I will not prejudge
+it. It may be that time will reconcile me to some things I now dislike; it
+may be, too, that the presence of my own around me will dispose me to take
+a cheerier view of much that now depresses me. I have a great deal to do;
+I am employed during the whole day, and never really free till evening,
+when society claims me. This latter is my only severe burden. You can
+imagine me daily dining out, and fancy the martyrdom it costs me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am most anxious to hear of you, and how you like your new life,&mdash;I
+mean how you bear it. Liking is not the word for that which entails
+separation. I feel assured that you will love my father. You will be
+generous towards those traits which the host of mere acquaintanceship took
+pleasure in exaggerating, and you will be fair enough not to misjudge his
+great qualities because of certain faults of temper. He has great gifts,
+Lucy; and as you will see, the two pendulums of his nature, heart and
+head, swing together, and he is as noble in sentiment as he is grand in
+action.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It almost consoles me for separation when I think that I have transferred
+to him the blessings of that presence that made my own sunshine. Mind that
+you send me a diary of your life. I want your whole day; I want to see how
+existence is filled, so that whenever my mind flies back to you I may say,
+'She is in her garden,&mdash;she is working,&mdash;she is at her music,&mdash;she
+is reading to him.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a mistake to send me here, Lucy. There are men in scores who would
+rejoice in the opportunities of such a place, and see in it the road to
+rapid fortune. I only look at one feature of it,&mdash;the banishment. Not
+that by nature I am discontented,&mdash;I hope and believe this is not so,&mdash;but
+I feel that there are many things in life far worse than poverty. I have
+not the same dread of narrow means most men have. I do not feel depressed
+in spirit when I lie beneath a very humble roof, and sit down to a coarse
+meal; nor has splendor the power to exhilarate or elevate me. I am
+essentially humble, and I need nothing that is not generally within the
+reach of the humble; and I vow to you in all truth, I 'd rather be your
+grandfather's gardener than be the governor of this great colony. There 's
+an ignoble confession, but keep it for yourself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have written a long letter to Tom by this post, and addressed it to Mr.
+Dempster, who will forward it if he should have left before this. It
+distresses me greatly when I think that I have not been able to give him
+any definite career in life before we parted. Mere aptitude has no value
+with the world. You may be willing and ready to do fifty things, but some
+fourth-rate fellow who <i>knows</i> how to do one will beat you. The
+marketable quality in life is skill; the thing least in request is genius.
+Tom has this harsh lesson yet to learn, but learn it he must, for the
+world is a schoolmaster that will stand no skulking, and however little to
+our taste be its tasks, we must come up when called on, and go on with our
+lesson as well as we may.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In many respects Sir Brook Fossbrooke was an unfortunate companion for
+him to have chanced upon. A man of considerable resources, who has
+employed them all unprofitably, is a bad pilot. The very waywardness of
+such a nature was exactly the quality to be avoided in Tom's case; but
+what was to be done? Poverty can no more select its company than its
+climate; and it would have been worse than ungracious to have rejected a
+friendship so generously and freely offered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am curious&mdash;I am more than curious, I am anxious&mdash;to know if
+Tom should ever have met my father. They are so intensely alike in many
+things that I fear me their meeting could not lead to-good. I know well
+that Tom resents, and would like to show that he resents, what he deems
+the harsh treatment evinced towards me, and I dread anything like
+interchange of words between them. My whole hope is that you would prevent
+such a mischance, or, if it did occur, would take measures to obviate its
+dangers.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me particularly about this when you write. Tell me also, have you
+met Lady Lendrick, and if so, on what terms? I have ever found her
+obliging and good-natured, and with many qualities which the world has not
+given her credit for. Give her my most respectful regards when you see
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is daybreak; the hot sun of Africa is already glancing into the room,
+and I must conclude. I cannot bear to think of the miles these lines must
+travel ere they meet you, but they will be with you at last, and they are
+in this more fortunate than your loving father,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;T. Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy sat long pondering over this letter. She read it too, again and
+again, and by a light which was certainly not vouchsafed to him who wrote
+it. To <i>her</i> there was no mystery in Trafford's conduct. It was plain
+enough he had gone out, expecting to find her as his fellow-passenger. His
+despair&mdash;his wretchedness&mdash;his devotion to her father, the last
+resource of that disappointment he could not subdue&mdash;were all
+intelligible enough. Less easy, however, to read the sudden attachment he
+had formed for the Sewells. What did this mean? Had it any meaning; and if
+so, was it one that concerned her to know?
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIX. OFFICIAL MYSTERIES
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I had better see him myself,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, after patiently
+listening to Tom Lendrick's account of his meeting with his grandfather.
+&ldquo;It is possible I may be able to smooth down matters a little, and dispose
+the old gentleman, besides, to accord us some aid in our Sardinian
+project, for I have resolved upon that, Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, sir; the gold-mine?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, the lead,&mdash;the lead and silver. In the rough calculation I made
+last night on this slip of paper, I see my way to something like seven
+thousand a year to begin with; untold wealth will follow. There are no
+less than eleven products available,&mdash;the black lead of pencils and
+the white used by painters being the chief; while in my new salt, which I
+am disposed to call the 'pyrochloride of plumbium,' we have a sedative
+that will allay the pangs of hydrophobia.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish it would quiet the Chief Baron,&rdquo; muttered Tom; and Sir Brook, not
+hearing him correctly, continued,&mdash;&ldquo;I think so,&mdash;I think the
+Chief Baron eminently calculated to take a proper estimate of my
+discovery. A man of fine intellect is ever ready to accept truth, albeit
+it come in a shape and through a channel in which he has himself not
+pursued it. Will you write a line to your sister and ask if it would be
+his Lordship's convenience to receive me, and at what time?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, sir, whatever you wish,&rdquo; said Tom, in some confusion; &ldquo;but
+might I ask if it be your intention to ask my grandfather to aid me with
+his purse?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Naturally. I mean that he should, by advancing, let us say, eight hundred
+pounds, put you in a position to achieve a speedy fortune. He shall see,
+too, that our first care has been your sister's interests. Six-sixteenths
+of the profits for fifty years are to be hers; three each we reserve for
+ourselves; the remaining four will form a reserve fund for casualties, a
+capital for future development, and a sum at interest to pay
+superannuations, with some other objects that you will find roughly jotted
+down here, for which, however, they will amply suffice. I take it his
+Lordship knows something of metallurgy, Tom?&rdquo; &ldquo;I believe he knows a little
+of everything.&rdquo; &ldquo;Chemistry I feel sure he must have studied.&rdquo; &ldquo;I won't
+answer for the study; but you 'll find that when you come to talk with
+him, you 'll scarcely wander very far out of his geography. But I was
+going to say, sir, that I 'm not quite easy at the thought of asking him
+for money.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not money&mdash;at least, it's no gift&mdash;we require of him. We
+are in possession of a scheme certain to secure a fortune. We know where a
+treasure lies hid, and we want no more than the cost of the journey to go
+and fetch it. He shall be more than repaid. The very dispositions we make
+in your sister's favor will show him in what spirit we mean to deal. It is
+possible&mdash;I am willing to own it&mdash;it is possible I might
+approach a man of inferior intelligence with distrust and fear, but in
+coming before Baron Lendrick I have no misgivings. All my experience of
+life has shown me that the able men are the generous men. In the ample
+stretch of their minds they estimate mankind by larger averages, and thus
+they come to see that there is plenty of good in human nature.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the old Judge is clever enough, and some speak very well of his
+character; but his temper&mdash;his temper is something that would swallow
+up all the fine qualities that ever were accorded to one man; and even if
+you were about to go on a mission I liked better, I 'd say, Don't ask to
+see him, don't expose yourself to the risk of some outrageous affront,&mdash;something
+you could n't bear and would n't resent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have never yet found myself in the predicament you speak of,&rdquo; said Sir
+Brook, drawing himself up haughtily, &ldquo;nor do I know of any contingency in
+life from which I could retreat on account of its perils. It may be,
+indeed it is, more than likely, from what you tell me, that I shall make
+no appeal to your grandfather's generosity; but I shall see him to tender
+your regrets for any pain you may have caused him, and to tell also so
+much of our future intentions as it is becoming the head of your house
+should hear. I also desire to see your sister, and say good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ask her to let me do so too. I can't go away without seeing her again.&rdquo;
+ Tom took a turn or two up and down the room as though he had not made up
+his mind whether to say something or not. He looked out of the window,
+possibly in search of something to distract his thoughts, and then turning
+suddenly about, he said: &ldquo;I was thinking, sir, that if it was your opinion&mdash;mind,
+I don't want to insinuate that it ought to be, or even that it is my own&mdash;but
+that if you came to the conclusion that my sister was not happy with my
+grandfather&mdash;that her life was one of depression and suffering&mdash;what
+would you say to her coming along with us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To Sardinia! Coming to Sardinia, do you mean, Tom?&rdquo; said the old man, in
+astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, that is what I meant.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have I not told you the sort of life that lies before us in the island,&mdash;the
+hardships, the dangers, the bitter privations we shall have to endure? Is
+it to these we can invite a young girl, trained and accustomed to every
+elegance and every comfort?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She 'd not shrink from her share,&mdash;that much I 'll warrant you; and
+the worst roughing of that rugged life would be easier to bear than this
+old man's humor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; it must not be thought of,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, sternly. &ldquo;What
+meaning has our enterprise if it be not to secure her future fortune? She
+cannot&mdash;she shall not&mdash;pay any part of the price. Let me think
+over this, Tom. It may be that we ought not to leave her; it may be that
+we should hit upon something nearer home. I will go up to the Castle and
+see the Viceroy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He made a light grimace as he said this. Such a visit was by no means to
+his taste. If there was anything totally repugnant to his nature, it was
+to approach men whom he had known as friends or intimates with anything
+like the request for a favor. It seemed to him to invert all the relations
+which ought to subsist between men in society. The moment you had stooped
+to such a step, in his estimation you had forfeited all right to that
+condition of equality which renders intercourse agreeable.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must have something for this young fellow,&mdash;something that may
+enable him to offer his sister a home if she should need it. I will accept
+nothing for myself,&mdash;on that I am determined. It is a sorry part,
+that of suppliant, but so long as it is for another it is endurable. Not
+that I like it, though,&mdash;not that it sits easy on me,&mdash;and I am
+too old to acquire a new manner.&rdquo; Thus muttering to himself, he went along
+till he found himself at the chief entrance of the Castle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will have to wait on Mr. Balfour, sir, his Excellency's private
+secretary, the second door from the corner,&rdquo; said the porter, scarcely
+deigning a glance at one so evidently unversed in viceregal observances.
+Sir Brook nodded and withdrew. From a groom who was holding a neat-looking
+cob pony Fossbrooke learned that Mr. Balfour was about to take his
+morning's ride. &ldquo;He'll not see you now,&rdquo; said the man. &ldquo;You 'll have to
+come back about four or half-past.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have only a question to ask,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, half to himself as he
+ascended the stairs. As he gained the landing and rang, the door opened
+and Mr. Balfour appeared. &ldquo;I regret to detain you, sir,&rdquo; began Sir Brook,
+as he courteously raised his hat. &ldquo;Mr. Balfour, I believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right as to my name, but quite as wrong if you fancy that you
+will detain me,&rdquo; said that plump and very self-satisfied gentleman, as he
+moved forward.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet, sir, such is my intention,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, placing himself
+directly in front of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is a matter very soon settled,&rdquo; said Balfour, returning to the door
+and calling out, &ldquo;Pollard, step down to the lower yard, and send a
+policeman here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook heard the order unmoved in manner, and even made way for the
+servant to pass down the stairs. No sooner, however, was the man out of
+hearing than he said, &ldquo;It would be much better, sir, not to render either
+of us ridiculous. I am Sir Brook Fossbrooke, and I come here to learn at
+what time it would be his Excellency's pleasure to receive me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The calm quiet dignity in which he spoke, even more than the words, had
+its effect on Balfour, who, with more awkwardness than he would like to
+have owned, asked Sir Brook to walk in and be seated. &ldquo;I have had a
+message for you from his Excellency these three or four days back, and
+knew not where to find you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did it never occur to you to try what assistance the police might afford,
+sir?&rdquo; said he, with deep gravity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One thinks of these generally as a last resource,&rdquo; said Balfour, coolly,
+and possibly not sorry to show how imperturbable he could be under a
+sarcasm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now for the message, sir,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll be shot if I remember it. Wasn't it something about an election
+riot? You thrashed a priest, named Malcahy, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I opine not, sir,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, with a faint smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; you are the great man for acclimatization; you want to make the
+ornithorhynchus as common as the turkey. Am I right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook shook his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never have my head clear out of office hours, that 's the fact,&rdquo; said
+Balfour, impatiently. &ldquo;If you had called on me between twelve and three,
+you 'd have found me like a directory.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Put no strain upon your recollection, sir. When I see the Viceroy, it is
+probable he will repeat the message.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know him, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have known him eight-and-forty years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I have it,&mdash;I remember it all now. You used to be with Colonel
+Hanger and Hugh Seymour and O'Kelly and all the Carlton House lot.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Fossbrooke bowed a cold assent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Excellency told us the other evening that there was not a man in
+England who had so many stories of the Prince. Didn't Moore go to you
+about his Life of Sheridan?&mdash;yes, of course,&mdash;and you promised
+him some very valuable documents; and sent him five-and-twenty protested
+bills of poor Brinsley's, labelled 'Indubitable Records.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This does not lead us to the message, sir,&rdquo; said Foss-brooke, stiffly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, but it does though,&mdash;I'm coming to it. I have a system of
+artificial memory, and I have just arrived at you now through Carlton
+House, milk-punch, and that story about Lord Grey and yourself riding
+postilions to Ascot, and you on the wheelers tipping up Grey with your
+whip till he grew frantic. Was n't that a fact?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wait for the message, sir; or rather I grow impatient at not hearing
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I remember it perfectly. It's a place he wants to offer you; it's a
+something under the Courts of Law. You are to do next to nothing,&mdash;nothing
+at all, I believe, if you prefer it, as the last fellow did. He lived in
+Dresden for the education of his children, and he died there, and we did
+n't know when he died,&mdash;at least they suspect he signed some dozen
+life certificates that his doctor used to forward at quarter-day. Mind, I
+don't give you the story as mine; but the impression is that he held the
+office for eight years after his death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps, sir, you would now favor me with the name and nature of the
+appointment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He was called the Deputy-Assistant Sub-something of somewhere in the
+Exchequer; and he had to fill, or to register, or to put a seal, or, if
+not a seal, a stamp on some papers; but the marrow of the matter is, he
+had eight hundred a year for it; and when the Act passed requiring two
+seals, he asked for an increase of salary and an assistant clerk, and they
+gave him two hundred more, but they refused the clerk. They do such shabby
+things in those short sittings over the Estimates!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And am I to understand that his Excellency makes me an offer of this
+appointment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, not exactly; there's a hitch in it,&mdash;I may say there are two
+hitches: first of all, we 're not sure it's in our gift; and, secondly&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps I may spare you the secondly,&mdash;the firstly is more than
+enough for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, but I'd like to explain. Here's how it is: the Chief Baron claimed
+the patronage about twenty years ago, and we made, or the people who were
+in power made, some sort of a compromise about an ultimate nomination, and
+he was to have the first. Now this man only died t' other day, having held
+the office, as I said, upwards of twenty years,&mdash;a most
+unconscionable thing,&mdash;just one of those selfish acts small official
+fellows are always doing; and so <i>I</i> thought, as I saw your name down
+for something on his Excellency's list, that I 'd mention <i>you</i> for
+the post as a sort of sop to Baron Lendrick, saying, 'Look at our man; we
+are not going to saddle the country with one of your long-annuity fellows,&mdash;<i>he</i>
+'s eighty if he's a day.' I say, I 'd press this point, because the old
+Judge says he is no longer bound by the terms of the compromise, for that
+the office was abolished and reconstructed by the 58th of Victoria, and
+that he now insists on the undivided patronage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I presume that the astute reasons which induced you to think of <i>me</i>
+have not been communicated to the Viceroy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think not. I mention them to you frankly, because his Excellency
+said you were one of those men who must be dealt with openly. 'Play on the
+square with Foss-brooke,' said he; 'and whether he win or lose, you 'll
+see no change in him. Try to overreach him, and you 'll catch a tiger.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am very grateful for his kind estimate of me. It is, however, no more
+than I looked for at his hands.&rdquo; This he said with a marked feeling, and
+then added, in a lighter tone, &ldquo;I have also a debt of gratitude to
+yourself, of which I know not how to acquit myself better than by
+accepting this appointment, and taking the earliest opportunity to die
+afterwards.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, don't do that; I don't mean that. You can do like that fellow they
+made Pope because he looked on the verge of the grave, and who pitched his
+crutch into the air when he had put on the tiara.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I understand; so that it is only in Baron Lendrick's eyes I am to look
+short-lived.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so; call on him,&mdash;have a meeting with him; say that his
+Excellency desires to act with every delicacy towards him,&mdash;that
+should it be discovered hereafter the right of nomination lies with the
+Court and not with us, we 'll give him an equivalent somewhere else, till&mdash;till&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Till I shall have vacated the post,&rdquo; chimed in Sir Brook, blandly; &ldquo;a
+matter, of course, of very brief space.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see the whole thing,&mdash;you see it in all its bearings; and now if
+you only could know something about the man you have to deal with, there
+would be nothing more to tell you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard about him passingly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, yes, his eccentricities are well known. The world is full of stories
+of him, but he is one of those men who play wolf on the species,&mdash;he
+must be worrying somebody to keep him from worrying himself; he smashed
+the last two Governments here, and he 'd have upset <i>us</i> too if <i>I</i>
+had n't been here. He hates <i>me</i> cordially; and if you don't want to
+rouse his anger, don't let your lips murmur the name, Cholmondely
+Balfour.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may rely upon me, sir,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, bowing. &ldquo;I have scarcely ever
+met a gentleman whose name I am not more likely to recall than your own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sharp, that; did you mean it?&rdquo; said Balfour, with his glass to his eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am never ambiguous, sir, though it occasionally happens to me to say
+somewhat less than I feel. I wish you a good day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XX. IN COURT.
+</h2>
+<p>
+When the day arrived that the Chief Baron was to resume his place on the
+Bench, no small share of excitement was seen to prevail within the
+precincts of the Four Courts. Many opined that his recovery was far from
+perfect, and that it was not his intention ever to return to the
+justice-seat. Some maintained that the illness had been far less severe
+than was pretended, and that he had employed the attack as a means of
+pressure on the Government, to accord to his age and long services the
+coveted reward. Less argumentative partisans there were who were satisfied
+to wager that he would or would not reappear on the Bench, and bets were
+even laid that he would come for one last time, as though to show the
+world in what full vigor of mind and intellect was the man the Government
+desired to consign to inactivity and neglect.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is needless to say that he was no favorite with the Bar. There was
+scarcely a man, from the highest to the lowest, whom he had not on some
+occasion or another snubbed, ridiculed, or reprimanded. Whose law had he
+not controverted? Whose acuteness had he not exposed, whose rhetoric not
+made jest of? The mere presence of ability before him seemed to stimulate
+his combative spirit, and incite him to a passage at arms with one able to
+defend himself. No first-rate man could escape the shafts of his barbed
+and pointed wit; it was only dulness, hopeless dulness, that left his
+court with praise of his urbanity and an eulogy over his courteous
+demeanor.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, hopeless dulness is not the characteristic of the Irish Bar, and with
+the majority the Chief Baron was the reverse of popular.
+</p>
+<p>
+No small tribute was it therefore to his intellectual superiority, to that
+mental power that all acknowledged while they dreaded, that his appearance
+was greeted with a murmur of approbation, which swelled louder and louder
+as he moved across the hall, till it burst out at last into a hoarse, full
+cheer of welcome. Mounting the steps with difficulty, the pale old man,
+seared with age and wrinkled with care, turned round towards the vast
+crowd, and with an eye of flashing brightness, and a heightened color,
+pressed his hand upon his heart, and bowed. A very slight motion it was,&mdash;less,
+far less, perhaps, than a sovereign might have accorded; but in its
+dignity and grace it was a perfect recognition of all the honor he felt
+had been done him.
+</p>
+<p>
+How broken! how aged! how fearfully changed! were the whispered remarks
+that were uttered around as he took his seat on the Bench, and more
+significant even than words were the looks interchanged when he attempted
+to speak, and instead of that clear metallic ring which once had been
+audible even outside the court, a faint murmuring sound was only heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+A few commonplace motions were made and discharged. A somewhat wearisome
+argument followed on a motion for a new trial, and the benches of the Bar
+gradually grew thinner and thinner, as the interest of the scene wore off,
+and as each in turn had scanned, and, after his own fashion, interpreted,
+the old Judge's powers of mind and body; when suddenly, and as it were
+without ostensible cause, the court began to fill,&mdash;bench after bench
+was occupied, till at last even all the standing-space was crowded; and
+when the massive curtain moved aside, vast numbers were seen without,
+eagerly trying to enter. At first the Chief Baron appeared not to notice
+the change, but his sharp eye no sooner detected it than he followed with
+his glance the directed gaze of the crowd, and saw it fixed on the
+gallery, opposite the jury-box, now occupied by a well-dressed company, in
+the midst of whom, conspicuous above all, sat Lady Lendrick. So well known
+were the relations that subsisted between himself and his wife, such
+publicity had been given to their hates and quarrels, that her presence
+here was regarded as a measure of shameless indelicacy. In the very
+defiant look, too, that she bestowed on the body of the court she seemed
+to accept the imputation, and to dare it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Leisurely and calmly did she scan the old man's features through her
+double eyeglass, while from time to time, with a simpering smile, she
+would whisper some words to the lady at her side,&mdash;words it was not
+needful to overhear, they were so palpably words of critical comment upon
+him she gazed at.
+</p>
+<p>
+So engrossed was attention by the indecency of this intrusion, which had
+not even the shallow pretext of an interesting cause to qualify it, that
+it was only after a considerable time it was perceived that the lady who
+sat next Lady Lendrick was exceedingly beautiful. If no longer in her
+first youth, there were traits of loveliness in her perfectly formed
+features which even years respect; and in the depth of her orbits and the
+sculptural elegance of her nostrils and her mouth, there was all that
+beauty we love to call Greek, but in which no classic model ever could
+compete with the daughters of England.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her complexion was of exceeding delicacy, as was the half-warm tint of her
+light-brown hair. But it was when she smiled that the captivation of her
+beauty became perfect; and it seemed as though each and all there
+appropriated that radiant favor to himself, and felt his heart bound with
+a sort of ecstasy. It had been rumored in the morning through the hall
+that the Chief Baron, at the rising of the Court, would deliver a short
+reply to the address of the Bar; and now, as the last motion was being
+disposed of, the appearance of eager expectation and curiosity became
+conspicuous on every side.
+</p>
+<p>
+That the unlooked-for presence of his wife had irritated and embarrassed
+the old man, was plain to the least observant. The stern expression of his
+features; the steadfast way in which he gazed into the body of the court,
+to avoid even a chance glance at the gallery; the fretful impatience with
+which he moved his hands restlessly amongst his papers,&mdash;all showed
+discomposure and uneasiness. Still, it was well known that the moment he
+was called on for a mental effort intellect ever assumed the mastery over
+temper, and all felt that when he should arise not a trace of
+embarrassment would remain to mar the calm dignity of his manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was amidst a hushed silence that he stood up, and said: &ldquo;Mr. Chief
+Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar: I had intended to-day,&mdash;I had
+even brought down with me some notes of a reply which I purposed to make
+to the more than flattering address which you so graciously offered to me.
+I find, however, that I have overrated the strength that remains to me. I
+find I have measured my power to thank you by the depth of my gratitude,
+and not by the vigor of my frame. I am too weak to say all that I feel,
+and too deeply your debtor to ask you to accept less than I owe you. Had
+the testimony of esteem you presented to me only alluded to those gifts of
+mind and intellect with which a gracious Providence was pleased to endow
+me,&mdash;had you limited yourself to the recognition of the lawyer and
+the judge,&mdash;I might possibly have found strength to assure you that I
+accepted your praise with the consciousness that it was not all unmerited.
+The language of your address, however, went beyond this; your words were
+those of regard, even of affection. I am unused to such as these,
+gentlemen,&mdash;they unsettle&mdash;they unman me. Physicians tell us
+that the nerves of the student acquire a morbid and diseased acuteness for
+want of those habits of action and physical exertion which more vulgar
+organizations practise. So do I feel that the mental faculties gain an
+abnormal intensity in proportion as the affections are neglected, and the
+soil of the heart left untilled.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine have been worse than ignored,&rdquo; said he, with an elevated tone, and
+in a voice that rang through the court,&mdash;&ldquo;they have been outraged;
+and when the time comes that biography will have to deal with my character
+and my fortunes, if there be but justice in the award, the summing-up will
+speak of me as one ever linked with a destiny that was beneath him. He was
+a lawyer,&mdash;he ought to have been a legislator. He sat on the Bench,
+while his place was the Cabinet; and when at the end of a laborious life
+his brethren rallied round him with homage and with tender regard, they
+found him like a long beleaguered city starved into submission, carrying a
+bold port towards the enemy, but torn by dissension within, and betrayed
+by the very garrison that should have died in its defence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The savage fierceness of these words turned every eye in the court to the
+gallery, where Lady Lendrick sat, and where, with a pleasant smile on her
+face, she not only listened with seeming pleasure, but beat time with her
+fan to the rhythm of the well-rounded periods.
+</p>
+<p>
+A quivering of the lip, and a strange flattening of the cheek of one side,
+succeeded to the effort with which he delivered these words, and when he
+attempted to speak again his voice failed him; and after a few attempts he
+placed his hand on his brow, and with a look of intense and most painful
+significancy, bowed around him to both sides of the court and retired.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That woman, that atrocious woman, has killed him,&rdquo; muttered poor Haire,
+as he hastened to the Judge's robing-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sorry, my dear, you should not have heard him in a better vein, for
+he is really eloquent at times,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick to her beautiful
+companion, as they moved through the crowd to their carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust his present excitement will not have bad consequences,&rdquo; said the
+other, softly. &ldquo;Don't you think we ought to wait and ask how he is?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you like. I have only one objection, and that is, that we may be
+misconstrued. There are people here malicious enough to impute the worst
+of motives to our anxiety. Oh, here is Mr. Pemberton! Mr. Pemberton, will
+you do me the great favor to inquire how the Chief Baron is? Would you do
+more, and say that I am most eager to know if I could be of any use to
+him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If Mr. Pemberton had no fancy for his mission, he could not very well
+decline it. While he was absent, the ladies took a turn through the hall,
+inspecting the two or three statues of distinguished lawyers, and scanning
+the living faces, whose bewigged expression seemed to blend the over-wise
+and the ridiculous in the strangest imaginable manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+A sudden movement in the crowd betokened some event; and now, through a
+lane formed in the dense mass, the Chief Baron was seen approaching. He
+had divested himself of his robes, and looked the younger for the change.
+Indeed, there was an almost lightness in his step, as he came forward, and
+with a bland smile said: &ldquo;I am most sensible of the courtesy that led you
+here. I only wish my strength had been more equal to the occasion.&rdquo; And he
+took Lady Lendrick's hand with a mingled deference and regard.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir William, this is my daughter-in-law. She only arrived yesterday, but
+was determined not to lose the opportunity of hearing you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/178.jpg" width="100%" alt="178 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To have <i>heard</i> me to-day was disappointment,&rdquo; said the old man, as
+he raised the young lady's hand to his lips; &ldquo;to see her is none. I am
+charmed to meet one so closely tied to me,&mdash;of such exquisite beauty.
+Ah, Madam! it's a dear-bought privilege, this candid appreciation of
+loveliness we old men indulge in. May I offer you my arm?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And now through the dense crowd they passed along,&mdash;all surprised and
+amazed at the courteous attentions of the old Judge, whom but a few
+moments before they had seen almost convulsed with passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She almost had won the game, Haire,&rdquo; said the Chief Baron, as, having
+handed the ladies to their carriage, he went in search of his own. &ldquo;But I
+have mated her. My sarcasm has never given me one victory with that
+woman,&rdquo; said he, sternly. &ldquo;I have never conquered her except by courtesy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why did she come down to court at all?&rdquo; blurted out Haire; &ldquo;it was
+positively indecent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Spanish women go to bull-fights, but I never heard that they stepped
+down into, the arena. She has great courage,&mdash;very great courage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who was the handsome woman with her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Sewell. Now, that is what I call beauty, Haire.
+There is the element which is denied to us men,&mdash;to subdue without
+effort, to conquer without conflict.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your granddaughter is handsomer, to my thinking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are like each other,&mdash;strangely like. They have the same
+dimpling of the cheek before they smile, and her laugh has the same ring
+as Lucy's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire muttered something, not very intelligibly, indeed, but certainly not
+sounding like assent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Lendrick had asked me to take these Sewells in at the Priory, and I
+refused her. Perhaps I 'd have been less peremptory had I seen this
+beauty. Yes, sir! There is a form of loveliness&mdash;this woman has it&mdash;as
+distinctly an influence as intellectual superiority, or great rank, or
+great riches. To deny its power you must live out of the world, and reject
+all the ordinances of society.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Coquettes, I suppose, have their followers; but I don't think you or I
+need be of the number.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You speak with your accustomed acuteness, Haire; but coquetry is the
+exercise of many gifts, beauty is the display of one. I can parry off the
+one; I cannot help feeling the burning rays of the other. Come, come,
+don't sulk; I am not going to undervalue your favorite Lucy. They have
+promised to dine with me on Sunday; you must meet them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dine with you!&mdash;dine with you, after what you said today in open
+court!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I could invite them, and they accept my invitation, is the best
+reply to those who would, in their malevolence, misinterpret whatever may
+have fallen from me. The wound of a sharp arrow is never very painful till
+some inexpert bungler endeavors to withdraw the weapon. It is then that
+agony becomes excruciating, and peril imminent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose I am the bungler, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Heaven forbid I should say so! but as I have often warned you, Haire,
+your turn for sarcasm is too strong for even your good sense. When you
+have shotted your gun with a good joke, you will make a bull's eye of your
+best friend.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By George, then, I don't know myself, that's all; and I could as easily
+imagine myself a rich man as a witty one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are rich in gifts more precious than money; and you have the
+quintessence of all wit in that property that renders you suggestive; it
+is like what chemists call latent heat. But to return to Mrs. Sewell: she
+met my son at the Cape, and reports favorably of his health and
+prospects.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor fellow! what a banishment he must feel it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder, sir, how many of us go through life without sacrifices! She
+says that he goes much into the world, and is already very popular in the
+society of the place,&mdash;a great and happy change to a man who had
+suffered his indolence and self-indulgence to master him. Had he remained
+at home, I might have been able to provide for him. George Ogle's place is
+vacant, and I am determined to exercise my right of appointment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First Registrar, was he not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; a snug berth for incapacity,&mdash;one thousand a year. Ogle made
+more of it by means we shall not inquire into, but which shall not be
+repeated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought to give it to your grandson,&rdquo; said Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought to know better than to say so, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a
+stern severity. &ldquo;It is to men like myself the public look for example and
+direction, and it would be to falsify all the teaching of my life if I
+were to misuse my patronage. Come up early on Saturday morning, and go
+over the lists with me. There are one hundred and twenty-three applicants,
+backed by peers, bishops, members of Parliament, and men in power.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't envy you your patronage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not, sir. The one hundred and twenty-two disappointed
+candidates would present more terror to a mind like yours than any
+consciousness of a duty fulfilled would compensate for; but I am fashioned
+of other stuff.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I only hope it may be a worthy fellow gets it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you mean worthy in what regards a devotion to the public service, I
+may possibly be able to assure you on that head.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; I mean a good fellow,&mdash;a true-hearted, honest fellow, to
+whom the salary will be a means of comfort and happiness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, you ask far too much. Men in my station investigate fitness and
+capacity; they cannot descend to inquire how far the domestic virtues
+influence those whom they advance to office.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may drop me here: I am near home,&rdquo; said Haire, who began to feel a
+little weary of being lectured.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will not dine with me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to-day. I have some business this evening. I have a case to look
+over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come up on Saturday, then,&mdash;come to breakfast; bring me any
+newspapers that treat of the appointment, and let us see if we cannot
+oppose this spirit of dictation they are so prone to assume; for I am
+resolved I will never name a man to office who has the Press for his
+patron.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It may not be his fault.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It shall be his misfortune, then. Stop, Drab; Mr. Haire wishes to get
+down. To the Priory,&rdquo; said he, as his friend went his way; and now,
+leaning back in his carriage, the old man continued to talk aloud, and,
+addressing an imaginary audience, declaim against the encroaching spirit
+of the newspapers, and inveigh against the perils to which their
+irresponsible counsels exposed the whole framework of society; and thus
+speaking, and passionately gesticulating, he reached his home.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXI. A MORNING CALL.
+</h2>
+<p>
+As Sir William waited breakfast for Haire on Saturday morning, a car drove
+up to the door, and the butler soon afterwards entered with a card and a
+letter. The card bore the name &ldquo;Sir Brook Fossbrooke,&rdquo; and the letter was
+sealed with the viceregal arms, and had the name &ldquo;Wilmington&rdquo; on the
+corner. Sir William broke it open, and read,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Chief Baron,&mdash;This will come to your hand through Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, one of my oldest and choicest friends. He tells me he desires
+to know you, and I am not aware of any more natural or legitimate
+ambition. It would be presumption in me to direct your attention to
+qualities you will be more quick to discover and more able to appreciate
+than myself. I would only add that your estimate will, I feel assured, be
+not less favorable that it will be formed of one of whose friendship I am
+proud. It may be that his visit to you will include a matter of business;
+if so, give it your courteous attention: and believe me ever, my dear
+Chief Baron, your faithful friend,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wilmington.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show the gentleman in,&rdquo; said the Judge; and he advanced towards the door
+as Sir Brook entered. &ldquo;I am proud to make your acquaintance, Sir Brook,&rdquo;
+ said he, presenting his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would not have presumed to call on you at such an hour, my Lord Chief
+Baron, save that my minutes are numbered. I must leave for England this
+evening; and I wished, if possible, to meet you before I started.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will, I hope, join me at breakfast?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I breakfasted two hours ago,&mdash;if I dare to dignify by the name my
+meal of bread and milk. But, pray, let me not keep you from yours,&mdash;that
+is, if you will permit me to speak to you while so occupied.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am at your orders, sir,&rdquo; said the old Judge, as he seated himself and
+requested his visitor to sit beside him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Excellency tells me, my Lord, that there is just now vacant a
+situation of which some doubt exists as to the patron,&mdash;a
+Registrarship, I think he called it, in your Court?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is no doubt whatever, sir. The patronage is mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I merely quote the Viceroy, my Lord,&mdash;I assert nothing of myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It may not impossibly save time, sir, when I repeat that his Excellency
+has misinformed you. The office is in my gift.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I finish the communication with which he charged me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, there is no case before the court,&rdquo; said the Judge. &ldquo;I can hear you,
+as a matter of courtesy; but it cannot be your object to be listened to on
+such terms?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will accept even so little. If it should prove that the view taken by
+his Excellency is the correct one&mdash;pray, sir, let me proceed&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot; I have no temper for a baseless hypothesis. I will not,
+besides, abuse your time any more than my own forbearance; and I therefore
+say that if any portion of your interest in making my acquaintance
+concerns that question you have so promptly broached, the minutes employed
+in the discussion would be thrown away by us both.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Haire,&rdquo; said the servant, at this moment; and the Chief Baron's old
+friend entered, rather heated by his walk.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are late by half an hour, Haire; let me present you to Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, whose acquaintance I am now honored in making. Sir Brook is
+under a delusive impression, Haire, which I told you a few days ago would
+demand some decisive step on my part; he thinks that the vacant
+registrarship is at the disposal of the Crown.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask pardon,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke. &ldquo;As I understood his Excellency, they
+only claim the alternate appointment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And they shall not assert even that, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir William's case is strong,&mdash;it is irrefutable. I have gone over
+it myself,&rdquo; broke in Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, sir! listen to that. You have now wherewithal to go back and tell
+the Viceroy that the opinion of the leading man of the Irish Bar has
+decided against his claim. Tell him, sir, that accident timed your visit
+here at the same moment with my distinguished friend's, and that you in
+this way obtained a spontaneous decision on the matter at issue. When you
+couple with that judgment the name of William Haire, you will have said
+enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I bow to this great authority,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, with deep courtesy, &ldquo;and
+accepting your Lordship's statement to the fullest, I would only add, that
+as it was his Excellency's desire to have named me to this office, might I
+so far presume, on the loss of the good fortune that I had looked for, to
+approach you with a request, only premising that it is not on my own
+behalf?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I own, sir, that I do not clearly appreciate the title to your claim. You
+are familiar with the turf, Sir Brook, and you know that it is only the
+second horse has a right to demand his entry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not been beaten, my Lord. You have scratched my name and prevented
+my running.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us come back to fact, sir,&rdquo; said the Chief Baron, not pleased with
+the retort. &ldquo;How can you base any right to approach me with a request on
+the circumstance that his Excellency desired to give you what belonged to
+another?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that puts it forcibly&mdash;unanswerably&mdash;to my thinking,&rdquo; said
+Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I may condole with disappointment, sir, but I am not bound to compensate
+defeat,&rdquo; said the old Judge; and he arose and walked the room with that
+irritable look and manner which even the faintest opposition to him often
+evoked, and for which even the utterance of a flippant rebuke but partly
+compensated him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I take it, my Lord Chief Baron,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, calmly, &ldquo;that I have
+neither asked for condolence nor compensation. I told you, I hoped
+distinctly that what I was about to urge was not on my own behalf.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, and I think the plea is only the less sustainable. The
+Viceroy's letter might give a pretext for the one; there is nothing in our
+acquaintance would warrant the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you knew, sir, how determined I am not to take offence at words which
+certainly imperil patience, you would possibly spare me some of these
+asperities. I am in close relations of friendship with your grandson; he
+is at present living with me; I have pledged myself to his father to do my
+utmost in securing him some honorable livelihood, and it is in his behalf
+that I have presented myself before you to-day. Will you graciously accord
+me a hearing on this ground?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was a quiet dignity of manner in which he said this, a total
+forgetfulness of self, and a manly simplicity of purpose so palpable, that
+the old Judge felt he was in presence of one whose character called for
+all his respect; at the same time he was not one to be suddenly carried
+away by a sentiment, and in a very measured voice he replied, &ldquo;If I 'm
+flattered, sir, by the interest you take in a member of my family, I am
+still susceptible of a certain displeasure that it should be a stranger
+should stand before me to ask me for any favor to my own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am aware, my Lord Chief Baron, that my position is a false one, but so
+is your own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine, sir! mine? What do you mean? Explain yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If your Lordship's interest had been exerted as it might have been, Dr.
+Lendrick's son would never have needed so humble a friend as he has found
+in me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And have you come here, sir, to lecture me on my duty to my family? Have
+you presented yourself under the formality of a viceregal letter of
+introduction to tell a perfect stranger to you how he should have demeaned
+himself to his own?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Probably I might retort, and ask by what right you lecture me on my
+manners and behavior? But I am willing to be taught by so consummate a
+master of everything; and though I was once a courtier, I believe that I
+have much to learn on the score of breeding. And now, my Lord, let us
+leave this unpromising theme, and come to one which has more interest for
+each of us. If this registrarship, this place, whatever it be, would be
+one to suit your grandson, will the withdrawal of <i>my</i> claim serve to
+induce your Lordship to support <i>his?</i> In one word, my Lord, will you
+let him have the appointment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I distinctly refuse, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, waving his hand with an air of
+dignity. &ldquo;Of the young gentleman for whom you intercede I know but little;
+but there are two disqualifications against him, more than enough, either
+of them, to outweigh your advocacy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I learn them?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, meekly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall, sir. He carries my name without its prestige; he inherits <i>my</i>
+temper, but not my intellect.&rdquo; The blood rushed to his face as he spoke,
+and his chest swelled, and his whole bearing bespoke the fierce pride that
+animated him; when suddenly, as it were, recollecting himself, he added:
+&ldquo;I am not wont to give way thus, sir. It is only in a moment of
+forgetfulness that I could have obtruded a personal consideration into a
+question of another kind. My friend here will tell you if it has been the
+habit of my life to pension my family on the public.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Having failed in one object of my coming, let me hope for better success
+in another. May I convey to your Lordship your grandson's regret for
+having offended you? It has caused him sincere sorrow and much
+self-reproach. May I return with the good tidings of your forgiveness?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The habits of my order are opposed to rash judgments, and consequently to
+hasty reversions. I will consider the case, and let you hear my opinion
+upon it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think that is about as much as you will do with him,&rdquo; muttered Haire in
+Sir Brook's ear, and with a significant gesture towards the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Before taking my leave, my Lord, would it be too great a liberty if I beg
+to present my personal respects to Miss Lendrick?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will inform her of your wish, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, rising, and ringing
+the bell. After a pause of some minutes, in which a perfect silence was
+maintained by all, the servant returned to say, &ldquo;Miss Lendrick would be
+happy to see Sir Brook.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope, sir,&rdquo; said the Chief Baron, as he accompanied him to the door, &ldquo;I
+have no need to request that no portion of what has passed here to-day be
+repeated to my granddaughter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A haughty bow of assent was all the reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I make my advances to her heart,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a tone of more
+feeling in his voice, &ldquo;through many difficulties. Let these not be
+increased to me,&mdash;let her not think me unmindful of my own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give her no reason to think so, my Lord, and you may feel very
+indifferent to the chance words of a passing acquaintance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For the third time to-day, sir, have you dared to sit in judgment over my
+behavior to my family. You cannot plead want of experience of life, or
+want of converse with men, to excuse this audacity. I must regard your
+intrusion, therefore, as a settled project to insult me. I accept no
+apologies, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, with a haughty wave of his hand, while
+his eyes glittered with passion. &ldquo;I only ask, and I hope I ask as a right,
+that I may not be outraged under my own roof. Take your next opportunity
+to offend me when I may not be hampered by the character of your host.
+Come down into the open arena, and see how proud you will feel at the
+issue of the encounter.&rdquo; He rang the bell violently as he spoke, and
+continued to ring it till the servant came.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Accompany this gentleman to the gate,&rdquo; said he to the man.
+</p>
+<p>
+Not a change came over Sir Brook's face during the delivery of this
+speech; and as he bowed reverentially and withdrew, his manner was all
+that courtesy could desire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see he's not going to visit Lucy,&rdquo; muttered Haire, as Sir Brook passed
+the window.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think not, sir. There are few men would like to linger where
+they have been so ingloriously defeated.&rdquo; He walked the room with a proud
+defiant look for some minutes, and then, sinking faintly into a chair,
+said, in a weak, tremulous tone, &ldquo;Haire, these trials are too much for me.
+It is a cruel aggravation of the ills of old age to have a heart and a
+brain alive to the finest sense of injury.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire muttered something like concurrence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it you say, sir? Speak out,&rdquo; cried the Judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was saying,&rdquo; muttered the other, &ldquo;I wish they would not provoke&mdash;would
+not irritate you; that people ought to see the state your nerves are in,
+and should use a little discretion how they contradict and oppose you.&rdquo;
+ The bland smile of the Chief-Justice, and an assenting gesture of his
+hand, emboldened Haire to continue, and he went on: &ldquo;I have always said,
+Keep away such as excite him; his condition is not one to be bettered by
+passionate outbreaks. Calm him, humor him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a pearl above price is a friend endowed with discretion! Leave me,
+Haire, to think over your nice words. I would like to ponder them alone
+and to myself. I 'll send for you by and by.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXII. COMING-HOME THOUGHTS
+</h2>
+<p>
+Had a mere stranger been a guest on that Sunday when the Chief Baron
+entertained at dinner Lady Lendrick, the Sewells, and his old schoolfellow
+Haire, he might have gone away under the impression that he had passed an
+evening in the midst of a happy and united family.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nothing could be more perfect than the blending of courtesy and
+familiarity. The old Chief himself was in his best of humors, which means
+that, with the high polish of a past age, its deference, and its homage,
+he combined all the readiness and epigrammatic smartness of a later
+period. Lady Lendrick was bland, courteous, and attentive. Colonel Sewell
+took the part assigned him by his host, alternate talker and listener; and
+Mrs. Sewell herself displayed, with true woman's wit, that she knew how to
+fall in with the Judge's humor, as though she had known him for years, and
+that, in each sally of his wit and each flash of his repartee he was but
+reviving memories of such displays in long-past years. As for Haire, no
+enchantment could be more complete; he found himself not only listened to
+but appealed to. The Chief asked him to correct him about some fact or
+other of recent history; he applied to him to relate some incident in a
+trial he had taken part in; and, greatest triumph of all, he was called on
+to decide some question about the dressing of Mrs. Sewell's hair, his
+award being accepted as the last judgment of connoisseurship.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lucy talked little, but seemed interested by all around her. It was a bit
+of high-life comedy, really amusing, and she had that mere suspicion&mdash;it
+was no more&mdash;of the honesty and loyalty of the talkers to give an
+added significance to all she saw and heard. This slight distrust,
+however, gave way, when Mrs. Sewell sat down beside her in the
+drawing-room, and talked to her of her father. Oh, how well she appeared
+to know him; how truly she read the guileless simplicity of his noble
+nature; how she distinguished&mdash;it was not all who did so&mdash;between
+his timid reserve and pride; how she saw that what savored of haughtiness
+was in reality an excess of humility shrouding itself from notice; how she
+dwelt on his love for children, and the instantaneous affection he
+inspired in them towards himself. Last of all, how she won the poor girl's
+heart as she said, &ldquo;It will never do to leave him there, Lucy; we must
+have him here, at home with us. I think you may intrust it to me; I
+generally find my way in these sort of things.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy could have fallen at her feet with gratitude as she heard these
+words, and she pressed her hand to her lips and kissed it fervently. &ldquo;Why
+isn't your brother here? Is he not in Dublin?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Sewell,
+suddenly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he is in town,&rdquo; stammered out Lucy, &ldquo;but grandpapa scarcely knows
+him, and when they did meet, it was most unfortunate. I 'll tell you all
+about it another time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have many confidences to make each other,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, with a
+sigh so full of sorrow that Lucy instinctively pressed her hand with
+warmth, as though to imply her trustfulness would, not be ill deposited.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last came the hour of leave-taking, and the Judge accompanied his
+guests to the door, and even bareheaded handed Lady Lendrick to her
+carriage. To each, as they said &ldquo;Good-night,&rdquo; he had some little
+appropriate speech,&mdash;a word or two of gracious compliment, uttered
+with all his courtesy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I call this little dinner a success, Lucy,&rdquo; said he, as he stood to say
+&ldquo;Good-night&rdquo; on the stairs. &ldquo;Lady Lendrick was unusually amiable, and her
+daughter-in-law is beyond praise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is indeed charming,&rdquo; said Lucy, fervently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I found the Colonel also agreeable,&mdash;less dictatorial than men of
+his class generally are. I suspect we shall get on well together with
+further acquaintance; but, as Haire said, I was myself to-night, and would
+have struck sparks out of the dullest rock, so that I must not impute to
+him what may only have been the reflex of myself. Ah, dear! there was a
+time when these exertions were the healthful stimulants of my life; now
+they only weary and excite,&mdash;good-night, dear child, good-night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As Lady Lendrick and her party drove homeward, not a word was uttered for
+some minutes after they had taken their seats. It was not till after they
+had passed out of the grounds, and gained the high-road, that she herself
+broke silence. &ldquo;Well, Dudley,&rdquo; said she at last, &ldquo;is he like my
+description? Was my portrait too highly colored?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite the reverse. It was a faint weak sketch of the great original. In
+all my life I never met such inordinate vanity and such overweening
+pretension. I give him the palm as the most conceited man and the greatest
+bore in Christendom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you wonder now if I could n't live with him?&rdquo; asked she, half
+triumphantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll not go that far. I think I could live with him if I saw my way to
+any advantage by it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm certain you could not! The very things you now reprobate are the few
+endurable traits about him. It is in the resources of his intense conceit
+he finds whatever renders him pleasant and agreeable. I wish you saw his
+other humor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can imagine it may not be all that one would desire; but still&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It comes well from you to talk of submitting and yielding,&rdquo; burst out
+Lady Lendrick. &ldquo;I certainly have not yet detected these traits in your
+character; and I tell you frankly, you and Sir William could not live a
+week under the same roof together. Don't you agree with me, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What should she know about it?&rdquo; said he, fiercely; and before she could
+reply, &ldquo;I don't suspect she knows a great deal about me,&mdash;she knows
+nothing at all about <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, would you like to live with him yourself, Lucy?&rdquo; asked Lady
+Lendrick.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't say I 'd <i>like</i> it, but I think it might be done,&rdquo; said she,
+faintly, and scarcely raising her eyes as she spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, then, my intractable temper is the cause of all our
+incompatibility; my only consolation is that I have a son and a
+daughter-in-law so charmingly endowed that their virtues are more than
+enough to outweigh my faults.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What I say is this,&rdquo; said the Colonel, sternly,&mdash;&ldquo;I think the man is
+a bore or a bully, but that he need n't be both if one does n't like it.
+Now I 'd consent to be bored, to escape being bullied, which is precisely
+the reverse of what you appear to have done.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am charmed with the perspicuity you display. I hope, Lucy, that it
+tends to the happiness of your married life to have a husband so well able
+to read character.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Apparently this was a double-headed shot, for neither spoke for several
+minutes.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare I almost wish he would put you to the test,&rdquo; said Lady
+Lendrick. &ldquo;I mean, I wish he'd ask you to the Priory.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I fancy it is what he means to do,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, in the same low
+tone,&mdash;&ldquo;at least he came to me when I was standing in the small
+drawing-room, and said, 'How would you endure the quiet stillness and
+uniformity of such a life as I lead here? Would its dulness overpower
+you?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, you said it would be paradise,&rdquo; broke in her Ladyship; &ldquo;you
+hinted all about your own resources, and such-like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She did no such thing; she took the pathetic line, put her handkerchief
+to her eyes, and implied how she would love it, as a refuge from the cruel
+treatment of a bad husband,&mdash;eh, am I right?&rdquo; Harsh and insolent as
+the words were, the accents in which they were uttered were far more so.
+&ldquo;Out with it, Madam! was it not something like that you said?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said she, gently. &ldquo;I told Sir William I was supremely happy, blessed
+in every accident and every relation of my life, and that hitherto I had
+never seen the spot which could not suit the glad temper of my heart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You keep the glad temper confoundedly to yourself then,&rdquo; burst he out. &ldquo;I
+wish you were not such a niggard of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dudley, Dudley, I say,&rdquo; cried Lady Lendrick, in a tone of reproof.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have learned not to mind these amenities,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, in a quiet
+voice, &ldquo;and I am only surprised that Colonel Sewell thinks it worth while
+to continue them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it be your intention to become Sir William's guest, I must say such
+habits will require to be amended,&rdquo; said her Ladyship, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So they shall, mother. Your accomplished and amiable husband, as you once
+called him in a letter to me, shall only see us in our turtle moods, and
+never be suffered to approach our cage save when we are billing and
+cooing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The look of aversion he threw at his wife as he spoke was something that
+words cannot convey; and though she never raised eyes to meet it, a sickly
+pallor crept over her cheek as the blight fell on her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am to call on him to-morrow, by appointment. I wish he had not said
+twelve. One has not had his coffee by twelve; but as he said, 'I hope that
+will not be too early for you,' I felt it better policy to reply, 'By no
+means;' and so I must start as if for a journey.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does he mean by asking you to come at that hour? Have you any notion
+what his business is?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the least. We were in the hall. I was putting on my coat, when he
+suddenly turned round and asked me if I could without inconvenience drop
+in about twelve.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder what it can be for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you what I hope it may not be for! I hope it may not be to show
+me his conservatory, or his Horatian garden, as he pedantically called it,
+or his fish-ponds. If so, I think I 'll invite him some fine morning to
+turn over all my protested bills, and the various writs issued against me.
+Bore for Bore, I suspect we shall come out of the encounter pretty equal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has some rare gems. I'd not wonder if it was to get you to select a
+present for Lucy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I thought so, I'd take a jeweller with me, as though my friend, to
+give me a hint as to the value.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He admires you greatly, Lucy; he told me so as he took me downstairs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has immense success with men of that age: nothing over eighty seems
+able to resist her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This time she raised her eyes, and they met his, not with their former
+expression, but full of defiance, and of an insolent meaning, so that
+after a moment he turned away his gaze, and with a seeming struggle looked
+abashed and ashamed. &ldquo;The first change I will ask you to make in that
+house,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick, who had noticed this by-play, &ldquo;if ever you
+become its inmates, will be to dismiss that tiresome old hanger-on, Mr.
+Haire. I abhor him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My first reform will be in the sherry,&mdash;to get rid of that vile
+sugary compound of horrid nastiness he gives you After soup. The next will
+be the long-tailed black coach-horses. I don't think a man need celebrate
+his own funeral every time he goes out for a drive.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Haire,&rdquo; resumed Lady Lendrick, in a tone of severity, meant, perhaps, to
+repress all banter on a serious subject,&mdash;&ldquo;Haire not only supplies
+food to his vanity, but stimulates his conceit by little daily stories of
+what the world says of him. I wish he would listen to <i>me</i> on that
+subject,&mdash;I wish he would take <i>my</i> version of his place in
+popular estimation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I opine that the granddaughter should be got rid of,&rdquo; said the Colonel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is a fool,&mdash;only a fool,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think her a fool,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, slowly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't exactly mean so much; but that she has no knowledge of life, and
+knows nothing whatever of the position she is placed in, nor how to profit
+by it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd not even go that far,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, in the same quiet tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't pay too much attention to <i>that</i>,&rdquo; said the Colonel to his
+mother. &ldquo;It's one of her ways always to see something in every one that
+nobody else has discovered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I made that mistake once too often for my own welfare,&rdquo; said she, in a
+voice only audible to his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She tells me, mother, that she made that same mistake once too often for
+her own welfare; which being interpreted, means in taking me for her
+husband,&mdash;a civil speech to make a man in presence of his mother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I begin to think that politeness is not the quality any of us are eager
+about,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick; &ldquo;and I must say I am not at all sorry that the
+drive is over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I had been permitted to smoke, you'd not have been distressed by any
+conversational excesses on my part,&rdquo; said the Colonel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I shall know better another time, Dudley; and possibly-it would be as
+well to be suffocated with tobacco as half-choked with anger. Thank heaven
+we are at the door!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I take your horses as far as the Club?&rdquo; asked Sewell, as he handed
+her out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, but not to wait. You kept them on Tuesday night till past four
+o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On second thought, I'll walk,&rdquo; said he, turning away. &ldquo;Good-night;&rdquo; and
+leaving his wife to be assisted down the steps by the footman, he lighted
+his cigar, and walked away.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIII. A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING
+</h2>
+<p>
+The little lodging occupied by Sir Brook and young Lendrick was in a not
+very distinguished suburb near Cullen's Wood. It was in a small
+one-storied cottage, whose rickety gate bore the inscription &ldquo;Avoca Villa&rdquo;
+ on a black board, under which, in the form of permanence that indicated
+frequent changes of domicile, were the words, &ldquo;Furnished Apartments, and
+Board if required.&rdquo; A small enclosure, with three hollyhocks in a raised
+mound in the centre, and a luxurious crop of nettles around, served as
+garden: a narrow path of very rough shingle conducted to the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+The rooms within were very small, low, and meanly furnished; they bespoke
+both poverty and neglect; and while the broken windows, the cobwebbed
+ceiling, and the unwashed floor all indicated that no attention was
+bestowed on comfort or even decency, over the fireplace, in a large black
+frame, was a painting representing the genealogical tree of the house of
+the proprietor, Daniel O'Reardon, Esquire, the lineal descendant of
+Frenok-Dhubh-na-Bochlish O'Reardon, who was King of West Carbarry, a.d.
+703, and who, though at present only a doorkeeper in H. M. Court of
+Exchequer, had royal blood in his veins, and very kingly thoughts in his
+head.
+</p>
+<p>
+If a cruel destiny compelled Mr. O'Reardon to serve the Saxon, he &ldquo;took it
+out&rdquo; in a most hearty hatred of his patron. He denounced him when he
+talked, and he reviled him when he sang. He treasured up paragraphs of all
+the atrocities of the English press, and he revelled in the severe
+strictures which the Irish papers bestowed on them. So far as hating went,
+he was a true patriot.
+</p>
+<p>
+If some people opined that Mr. O'Reardon's political opinions rather
+partook of what was in vogue some sixty-odd years ago than what
+characterized a time nearer our own day, there were others, less generous
+critics, who scrupled not to say that he was a paid spy of the Government,
+and that all the secret organization of treason&mdash;all the mysterious
+plotting of rebellion that seems never to die completely out in Ireland&mdash;were
+known to and reported by this man to the Castle. Certain it was that he
+lived in a way his humble salary at the Four Courts could not have met,
+and indulged in convivial excesses far beyond the reach of his small
+income.
+</p>
+<p>
+When Sir Brook and Tom Lendrick became his lodgers, he speedily saw that
+they belonged to a class far above what usually resorted to his humble
+house. However studiously simple they might be in all their demands, they
+were unmistakably gentlemen; and this fact, coupled with their evident
+want of all employment or occupation, considerably puzzled Mr. O'Reardon,
+and set him a-thinking what they could be, who they were, and, as he
+phrased it, &ldquo;what they were at.&rdquo; No letters came for them, nor, as they
+themselves gave no names, was there any means of tracing their address;
+and to his oft-insinuated request, &ldquo;If any one asks for you, sir, by what
+name will I be able to answer?&rdquo; came the same invariable &ldquo;No one will
+call;&rdquo; and thus was Mr. O'Reardon reduced to designate them to his wife as
+the &ldquo;old chap&rdquo; and the &ldquo;young one,&rdquo;&mdash;titles which Sir Brook and Tom
+more than once overheard through the frail partitions of the ill-built
+house.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is not impossible that O'Reardon's peculiar habits and line of life
+disposed him to attach a greater significance to the seeming mystery that
+surrounded his lodgers than others might have ascribed; it is probable
+that custom had led him to suspect everything that was in any way
+suspicious. These men draw many a cover where there is no fox, but they
+rarely pass a gorse thicket and leave one undetected. His lodgers thus
+became to him a study. Had he been a man of leisure, he would have devoted
+the whole of it to their service; he would have dogged their steps,
+learned their haunts, and watched their acquaintances,&mdash;if they had
+any. Sunday was, however, his one free day, and by some inconceivable
+perversity they usually spent the entire of it at home.
+</p>
+<p>
+The few books they possessed bore no names, some of them were in foreign
+languages, and increased thereby Mr. O'Reardon's suspicious distrust; but
+none gave any clew to their owners. There was another reason for his
+eagerness and anxiety; for a long time back Ireland had been generally in
+a condition of comparative quiet and prosperity; there was less of
+distress, and, consequently, less of outrage. The people seemed at length
+to rely more upon themselves and their own industry than on the specious
+promises of trading politicians, and Mr. O'Reardon, whose functions, I
+fear, were not above reproach in the matter of secret information, began
+to fear lest some fine morning he might be told his occupation was gone,
+and that his employers no longer needed the fine intelligence that could
+smell treason, even by a sniff; he must, he said, do something to revive
+the memory of his order, or the chance was it would be extinguished
+forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had to choose between denouncing them as French emissaries or American
+sympathizers. A novel of Balzac's that lay on the table decided for the
+former, for he knew enough to be aware it was in French; and fortified
+with this fact, he proceeded to draw up his indictment for the Castle.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was, it must be confessed, a very meagre document; it contained little
+beyond the writer's own suspicions. Two men who were poor enough to live
+in Avoca Villa, and yet rich enough to do nothing for their livelihood,
+who gave no names, went out at unseasonable hours, and understood French,
+ought to be dangerous, and required to be watched, and therefore he gave
+an accurate description of their general appearance, age, and dress, at
+the office of the Private Secretary, and asked for his &ldquo;instructions&rdquo; in
+consequence.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. O'Reardon was not a bad portrait-painter with his pen, and in the case
+of Sir Brook there were peculiarities enough to make even a caricature a
+resemblance; his tall narrow head, his long drooping moustache, his
+massive gray eyebrows, his look of stern dignity, would have marked him,
+even without the singularities of dress which recalled the fashions of
+fifty years before.
+</p>
+<p>
+Little, indeed, did the old man suspect that his high-collared coat and
+bell-shaped hat were subjecting him to grave doubts upon his loyalty.
+Little did he think, as he sauntered at evening along the green lanes in
+this retired neighborhood, that his thoughts ought to have been on treason
+and bloodshed.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had come to the little lodging, it is true, for privacy. After his
+failure in that memorable interview with Sir William Lendrick, he had
+determined that he would not either importune the Viceroy for place, or
+would he be in any way the means of complicating the question between the
+Government and the Chief Baron by exciting the Lord-Lieutenant's interest
+in his behalf.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We must change our lodging, Tom,&rdquo; said he, when he came home on that
+night. &ldquo;I am desirous that, for the few days we remain here, none should
+trace nor discover us. I will not accept what are called compensations,
+nor will I live on here to be either a burden or a reproach to men who
+were once only my equals.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You found my worthy grandfather somewhat less tractable than you thought
+for, sir?&rdquo; asked Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He was very fiery and very haughty; but on the whole, there was much that
+I liked in him. Such vitality in a man of his years is in itself a grand
+quality, and even in its aggressiveness suggests much to regard. He
+refused to hear of me for the vacant office, and he would not accept <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did he take your proposal to aid us by a loan?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never made it. The terms we found ourselves on after half an hour's
+discussion of other matters rendered such a project impossible.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Lucy, how did she behave through it all?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She was not there; I did not see her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that it turned out as I predicted,&mdash;a mere meeting to exchange
+amenities.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The amenities were not many, Tom; and I doubt much if your grandfather
+will treasure up any very delightful recollections of my acquaintance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd like to see the man, woman, or child,&rdquo; burst out Tom, &ldquo;who ever got
+out of his cage without a scratch. I don't believe that Europe contains
+his equal for irascibility.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't dwell on these views of life,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, almost sternly.
+&ldquo;You, nor I, know very little what are the sources of those intemperate
+outbreaks we so often complain of,&mdash;what sore trials are ulcerating
+the nature, what agonizing maladies, what secret terrors, what visions of
+impending misery; least of all do we know or take count of the fact that
+it is out of these high-strung temperaments we obtain those thrilling
+notes of human passion and tenderness coarser natures never attain to. Let
+us bear with a passing discord in the instrument whose cadences can move
+us to very ecstasy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom hung his head in silence, but he certainly did not seem convinced. Sir
+Brook quietly resumed: &ldquo;How often have I told you that the world has more
+good than bad in it,&mdash;yes, and what's more, that as we go on in life
+this conviction strengthens in us, and that our best experiences are based
+on getting rid of our disbeliefs. Hear what happened me this morning. You
+know that for some days back I have been negotiating to raise a small loan
+of four hundred pounds to take us to Sardinia and start our mine. Mr.
+Waring, who was to have lent me this sum on the security of the mine
+itself, took it into his head to hesitate at the last hour, and inserted
+an additional clause that I should insure my life in his behalf.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was disconcerted, of course, by this,&mdash;so much so, that had I not
+bought a variety of tools and implements on trust, I believe I would have
+relinquished the bargain and tried elsewhere. It was, however, too late
+for this; I was driven to accept his terms, and, accredited with a printed
+formula from an insurance office, I waited on the doctor who was to
+examine me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very brief investigation satisfied him that I was not seaworthy; he
+discovered I know not what about the valves of my heart, that implied
+mischief, and after 'percussing' me, as he called it, and placing his ear
+to my chest, he said, 'I regret to say, sir, that I cannot pronounce you
+insurable.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could have told him that I came of a long-lived race on either side;
+that during my life I had scarcely known an illness, that I had borne the
+worst climates without injury, and such-like,&mdash;but I forbore; I had
+too much deference for his station and his acquirements to set my judgment
+against them, and I arose to take my leave. It is just possible, though I
+cannot say I felt it, that his announcement might have affected me; at all
+events, the disappointment did so, and I was terrified about the
+difficulties in which I saw myself involved. I became suddenly sick, and I
+asked for a glass of water; before it came I had fainted, a thing that
+never in my whole life had befallen me. When, I rallied, he led me to talk
+of my usual habits and pursuits, and gradually brought me to the subject
+which had led me-to his house. 'What!' said he, 'ask for any security
+beyond the property itself! It is absurd; Waring is always-doing these
+things. Let me advance this money. I know a great deal more about you, Sir
+Brook, than you think; my friend Dr. Lendrick has spoken much of you, and
+of all your kindness to his son; and though you may not have heard of my
+name,&mdash;Beattie,&mdash;I am very familiar with yours.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In a word, Tom, he advanced the money. It is now in that writing-desk;
+and I have&mdash;I feel it&mdash;a friend the-more in the world. As I left
+his door, I could not help saying to myself, What signify a few days more
+or less of life, so long as such generous traits as this follow one to the
+last? He made me a happier man by his noble trust in me than if he had
+declared me a miracle of strength and vigor. Who is that looking in at the
+window, Tom? It's the second time I have seen a face there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom started to his feet and hurried to the door. There was, however, no
+one there; and the little lane was silent and deserted. He stopped a few
+minutes to listen, but not a footfall could be heard, and he returned to
+the room believing it must have been a mere illusion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us light candles, Tom, and have out our maps. I want to see whether
+Marseilles will not be our best and cheapest route to the island.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They were soon poring eagerly over the opened map, Sir Brook carefully
+studying all the available modes of travel; while Tom, be it owned, let
+his eyes wander from land to land, till following out the Danube to the
+Black Sea, he crossed over and stretched away into the mountain gorges of
+Circassia, where Schamyl and his brave followers were then fighting for
+liberty. For maps, like the lands they picture, never offer to two minds
+kindred thoughts; each follows out in space the hopes and ambitions that
+his heart is charged with; and where one reads wars and battle-fields,
+another but sees pastoral pleasures and a tranquil existence,&mdash;home
+and home-happiness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Tom; here I have it. These coasting-craft, whose sailing-lines are
+marked here, will take us and our traps to Cagliari for a mere trifle,&mdash;here
+is the route.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As the young man bent over the map, the door behind opened, and a stranger
+entered. &ldquo;So I have found you, Fossbrooke!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;though they
+insisted you had left Ireland ten days ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mercy on me! Lord Wilmington!&rdquo; said Sir Brook, as he shaded his eyes to
+stare at him. &ldquo;What could have brought you here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell you,&rdquo; said he, dropping his voice. &ldquo;I read a description so
+very like you in the secret report this morning, that I sent my servant
+Curtis, who knows you well, to see if it was not yourself; when he came
+back to me&mdash;for I waited for him at the end of the lane&mdash;with
+the assurance that I was right, I came on here. I must tell you that I
+took the precaution to have your landlord detained, as if for examination,
+at the Under-Secretary's office; and he is the only one here who knows me.
+Mr. Lendrick, I hope you have not forgotten me? We met some months ago on
+the Shannon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What can I offer you?&rdquo; said Sir Brook. &ldquo;Shall it be tea? We were just
+going to have it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll take whatever you like to give me; but let us profit by the few
+moments I can stay. Tell me how was it you failed with the Chief Baron?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He wouldn't have me; that's all. He maintains his right to an undivided
+patronage, and will accept of no dictation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will he accept of your friend here? He has strong claims on him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As little as myself, my Lord; he grew eloquent on his public virtue, and
+of course became hopeless.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will he retire and let us compensate him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe not. He thinks the country has a vested interest in his
+capacity, and as he cannot be replaced, he has no right to retire.''
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He may make almost his own terms with us, Fossbrooke,&rdquo; said the Viceroy.
+&ldquo;We want to get rid of himself and an intractable Solicitor-General
+together. Will you try what can be done?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not I, my Lord. I have made my first and last advances in that quarter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet I believe you are our last chance. He told Pemberton yesterday
+you were the one man of ability that ever called on him with a message
+from a Viceroy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us leave him undisturbed in his illusion, my Lord.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd say, let us profit by it, Fossbrooke. I have been in search of you
+these eight days, to beg you would take the negotiation in hand. Come, Mr.
+Lendrick, you are interested in this; assist me in persuading Sir Brook to
+accept this charge. If he will undertake the mission, I am ready to give
+him ample powers to treat.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect, my Lord,&rdquo; said Tom, &ldquo;you do not know my grandfather. He is not
+a very manageable person to deal with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is for that reason I want to place him in the hands of my old friend
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, my Lord; it is quite hopeless. Had we never met, I might have
+come before him with some chance of success; but I have already prejudiced
+myself in his eyes, and our one interview was not very gratifying to
+either of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll not give in, Fossbrooke, even though I am well aware I can do
+nothing to requite the service I ask of you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We leave Ireland to-morrow evening. We have a project which requires our
+presence in the island of Sardinia. We are about to make our fortunes, my
+Lord, and I 'm sure you 're not the man to throw any obstacle in the way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me half an hour of your morning, Fossbrooke; half an hour will
+suffice. Drive out to the Priory; see the Chief Baron; tell him I
+intrusted the negotiation to you, as at once more delicate to each of us.
+You are disconnected with all party ties here. Say it is not a question of
+advancing this man or that,&mdash;that we well know how inferior must any
+successor be to himself, but that certain changes are all-essential to us.
+We have not&mdash;I may tell you in confidence&mdash;the right man as our
+law adviser in the House; and add, 'It is a moment to make your own terms;
+write them down and you shall have your reply within an hour,&mdash;a
+favorable one I may almost pledge myself it will be. At all events, every
+detail of the meeting is strictly between us, and on honor.' Come, now,
+Fossbrooke; do this for me as the greatest service I could entreat of
+you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot refuse you any longer. I will go. I only premise that I am to
+limit myself strictly to the statement you shall desire me to repeat. I
+know nothing of the case; and I cannot be its advocate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so. Give me your card. I will merely write these words,&mdash;'See
+Sir Brook for me.&mdash;Wilmington.' Our object is his resignation, and we
+are prepared to pay handsomely for it. Now, a word with you, Mr. Lendrick.
+I heard most honorable mention of you yesterday from the vice-provost; he
+tells me that your college career was a triumph so long as you liked it,
+and that you have abilities for any walk in life. Why not continue, then,
+on so successful a path? Why not remain, take out your degree, and emulate
+that distinguished relative who has thrown such lustre on your family?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First of all, my Lord, you have heard me much overrated. I am not at all
+the man these gentlemen deem me; secondly, if I were, I 'd rather bring my
+abilities to any pursuit my friend here could suggest. I 'd rather be <i>his</i>
+companion than be my grandfather's rival. You have heard what he said
+awhile ago,&mdash;we are going to seek our fortune.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said to make it,&rdquo; said Lord Wilmington, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be it so, my Lord. <i>I 'll</i> seek, and <i>he 'll</i> find; at all
+events, I shall be his companion; and I'm a duller dog than I think myself
+if I do not manage to be the better of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not the only one he has fascinated,&rdquo; said the Viceroy, in a
+whisper. &ldquo;I 'm not sure I 'd disenchant you if I had the power.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Must I positively undertake this negotiation?&rdquo; asked Fossbrooke, with a
+look of entreaty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know I shall fail.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't believe it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, as Lady Macbeth says, if we fail <i>we fail</i>; and though
+murdering a king be an easier thing than muzzling a Chief Baron,&mdash;here
+goes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As he said this, the door was gently moved, and a head protruded into the
+room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; cried Tom, springing rapidly towards the door; but all was
+noiseless and quiet, and no one to be seen. &ldquo;I believe we are watched
+here,&rdquo; said he, coming back into the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-night, then. Let me have your report as early as may be, Fossbrooke.
+Good-night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIV. A MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+</h2>
+<p>
+The morning after this interview was that on which the Chief Baron had
+invited Colonel Sewell to inspect his gardens and hothouses,&mdash;a
+promise of pleasure which, it is but fair to own, the Colonel regarded
+with no extravagant delight. To his thinking, the old Judge was an
+insupportable bore. His courtesy, his smartness, his anecdotes, his
+reminiscences were all Boredom. He was only endurable when by the excess
+of his conceit he made himself ridiculous. Then alone did Sewell relish
+his company; for he belonged to that class of men, and it is a class, who
+feel their highest enjoyment whenever they witness any trait in human
+nature that serves to disparage its dignity or tarnish its lustre.
+</p>
+<p>
+That a man of unquestionable ability and power like the Chief Baron should
+render himself absurd through his vanity, was a great compensation to such
+a person as Sewell. To watch the weaknesses and note the flaws in a great
+nature, to treasure up the consolation that, after all, these &ldquo;high
+intelligences&rdquo; occasionally make precious fools of themselves, are very
+congenial pastimes to small folk. Perhaps, indeed, they are the sole
+features of such men they are able to appreciate, and, like certain
+reptiles, they never venture to bite save where corruption has preceded
+them.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nothing in his manner betrayed this tendency; he was polished and
+courteous to a degree. A very critical eye might have detected in his
+bearing that he had been long a subordinate. His deference was a little&mdash;a
+very little&mdash;overstrained; he listened with a slight tinge of
+over-attention; and in his humility as he heard an order, and his activity
+as he obeyed it, you could read at once the aide-decamp in waiting.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is not necessary to remind the reader that all this lacquer of good
+breeding covered a very coarse and vulgar nature. In manner he was
+charming,&mdash;his approach, his address, his conversation were all
+perfect; he knew well when to be silent,&mdash;when to concur by a smile
+with what he was not expected to confirm by a word,&mdash;when to seem
+suddenly confronted with a new conviction, and how to yield assent as
+though coerced to what he would rather have resisted. In a word, he was
+perfect in all the training of those superb poodles who fetch and carry
+for their masters, that they may have the recompense of snarling at all
+the rest of mankind.
+</p>
+<p>
+As there are heaven-born doctors, lawyers, divines, and engineers, so are
+there men specially created for the antechamber, and Sewell was one of
+them.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old Judge had given orders for a liberal breakfast. He deemed a
+soldier's appetite would be a hearty one, and he meant to treat him
+hospitably. The table was therefore very generously spread, and Sewell
+looked approvingly at the fare, and ventured on a few words of compliment
+on the ample preparations before him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the only real breakfast-table I have seen since I left Calcutta,&rdquo;
+ said he, smiling graciously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You do me honor, sir,&rdquo; replied the old man, who was not quite sure
+whether or not he felt pleased to be complimented on a mere domestic
+incident.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell saw the hitch at once, and resumed: &ldquo;I remember an observation Lord
+Commorton made me when I joined his staff in India. I happened to make
+some remark on a breakfast set out pretty much like this, and he said,
+'Bear in mind, Captain Sewell, that when a man who holds a high function
+sits down to a well-served breakfast, it means that he has already
+completed the really important work of the day. The full head means the
+empty stomach.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Excellency was right, sir; had he always been inspired with
+sentiments of equal wisdom, we should never have been involved in that
+unhappy Cantankankarabad war.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a very disastrous affair, indeed,&rdquo; sighed Sewell; &ldquo;I was through
+the whole of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I first heard of the project,&rdquo; continued the Judge, &ldquo;I remarked to a
+friend who was with me,&mdash;one of the leading men at the Bar,&mdash;'This
+campaign will tarnish our arms, and imperil our hold on India. The
+hill-tribes are eminently warlike, and however specious in their promises
+to us, their fidelity to their chiefs has never been shaken.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If your judgment had been listened to, it would have saved us a heavy
+reverse, and saved me a very painful wound; both bones were fractured
+here,&rdquo; said Sewell, showing his wrist.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Chief Baron scarcely deigned a glance at the cicatrix; he was high
+above such puny considerations. He was at that moment Governor-General of
+India and Prime Minister of England together. He was legislating for
+hundreds of millions of dark-skins, and preparing his explanations of his
+policy for the pale faces at home.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Mark my words, Haire,' said I,&rdquo; continued the Judge, with increased
+pomposity of manner, &ldquo;'this is the beginning of insurrection in India.' We
+have a maxim in law, Colonel Sewell, Like case, like rule. So was it
+there. May I help you to this curry?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, my Lord, I was beginning to forget how hungry I was. Shall I
+be deemed impertinent if I ask how you obtained your marvellous&mdash;for
+it is marvellous&mdash;knowledge of India?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as I know the Japanese constitution; just as I know Central Africa;
+just as I know, and was able to quote some time back, that curious chapter
+of the Brehon laws on substitutes in penal cases. My rule of life has
+been, never to pass a day without increasing the store of my
+acquirements.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all this with the weighty charge and labor of your high office.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; I have been eighteen years on the Bench. I have delivered in
+that time some judgments which have come to be deemed amongst the highest
+principles of British law. I have contributed largely to the periodical
+literature of the time. In a series of papers&mdash;you may not have heard
+of them&mdash;signed 'Icon,' in the 'Lawyer's Treasury of Useful Facts,' I
+have defended the Bar against the aggressive violence of the Legislature,
+I hope it is not too much to say, triumphantly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I remember Judge Beale, our Indian Chief-Justice, referring to those
+papers as the most splendid statement of the position and claims of the
+barrister in Great Britain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beale was an ass, sir; his law was a shade below his logic,&mdash;both
+were pitiable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed?&mdash;yes, a little more gravy. Is your cook a Provençal? that
+omelette would seem to say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My cook is a woman, and an Irishwoman, sir. She came to me from Lord
+Manners, and, I need not say, with the worst traditions of her art, which,
+under Lady Lendrick's training, attained almost to the dignity of
+poisoning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell could not restrain himself any longer, but laughed out at this
+sudden outburst. The old Judge was, however, pleased to accept the emotion
+as complimentary; he smiled and went on: &ldquo;I recognized her aptitude, and
+resolved to train her, and to this end I made it a practice to detain her
+every morning after prayers, and read to her certain passages from
+approved authors on cookery, making her experiment on the receipts for the
+servants' hall. We had at first some slight cases of illness, but not more
+serious than colic and violent cramps. In the end she was successful, sir,
+and has become what you see her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She would be a <i>cordon bleu</i> in Paris.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will take care, sir, that she hears of your approval. Would you not
+like a glass of Maraschino to finish with?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have just tasted your brandy, and it is exquisite.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot offer you a cigar, Colonel; but you are at liberty to smoke if
+you have one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I might have a stroll in that delicious garden that I see there, I
+could ask nothing better. Ah, my Lord,&rdquo; said he, as they sauntered down a
+richly scented alley, &ldquo;India has nothing like this,&mdash;I doubt if
+Paradise has any better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean to return to the East?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not if I can help it,&mdash;not if an exchange is possible. The fact is,
+my Lord, my dear wife's health makes India impossible so far as she is
+concerned; the children, too, are of the age that requires removal to
+Europe; so that, if I go back, I go back alone.&rdquo; He said this with a voice
+of deep depression, and intending to inspire the sorrow that overwhelmed
+him. The old Judge, however, fancied he had heard of heavier calamities in
+life than living separated from the wife of his bosom; he imagined, at
+least, that with courage and fortitude the deprivation might be endured;
+so he merely twitched the corners of his mouth in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Colonel misread his meaning, and went on: &ldquo;Aspiring to nothing in life
+beyond a home and home-happiness, it is, of course, a heavy blow to me to
+sacrifice either my career or my comfort. I cannot possibly anticipate a
+return earlier than eight or ten years; and who is to count upon eight or
+ten years in that pestilent climate? Assuredly not a man already broken
+down by wounds and jungle fever!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The justice of the remark was, perhaps, sufficient for the Chief Baron. He
+paid no attention to its pathetic side, and <i>so</i> did not reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell began to lose patience, but he controlled himself, and, after a few
+puffs of his cigar, went on: &ldquo;If it were not for the children, I 'd take
+the thing easy enough. Half-pay is a beggarly thing, but I 'd put up with
+it. I 'm not a man of expensive tastes. If I can relish thoroughly such
+sumptuous fare as you gave me this morning, I can put up with very humble
+diet. I 'm a regular soldier in that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An excellent quality, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy, of course, would suffer. There are privations which fall very
+heavily on a woman, and a woman, too, who has always been accustomed to a
+good deal of luxury.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Chief bowed an assent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose I might get a depot appointment for a year or two. I might also&mdash;if
+I sold out&mdash;manage a barrack-mastership, or become an inspector of
+yeomanry, or some such vulgar makeshift; but I own, my Lord, when a man
+has filled the places I have,&mdash;held staff appointments,&mdash;been a
+private secretary,&mdash;discharged high trusts, too, for in Mooraghabad I
+acted as Deputy-Resident for eight months,&mdash;it does seem a precious
+come-down to ask to be made a paymaster in a militia regiment, or a
+subaltern in the mounted police.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Civil life is always open to a man of activity and energy,&rdquo; said the
+Judge, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If civil life means a profession, it means the sort of labor a man is
+very unfit for after five-and-thirty. The Church, of course, is open on
+easier terms; but I have scruples about the Church. I really could not
+take orders without I could conscientiously say, This is a walk I feel
+called to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An honorable sentiment, sir,&rdquo; was the dry rejoinder.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that the end will be, I suppose, one of these days I shall just repack
+my bullock-trunk, and go back to the place from whence I came, with the
+fate that attends such backward journeys!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Chief Baron made no remark. He stooped to fasten, a fallen carnation
+to the stick it had been attached to, and then resumed his walk. Sewell
+was so provoked by the sense of failure&mdash;for it had been a direct
+assault&mdash;that he walked along silent and morose. His patience could
+endure no longer, and he was ready now to resent whatever should annoy
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you any of the requirements, sir, that civil services demand?&rdquo; asked
+the Judge, after a long pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I take it I have such as every educated gentleman possesses,&rdquo; replied
+Sewell, tartly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what may these be, in your estimation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can read and write, I know the first three rules of arithmetic, and I
+believe these are about the qualifications that fit a man for a place in
+the Cabinet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right, sir. With these, and the facility to talk platitudes in
+Parliament, a man may go very far and very high in life. I see that you
+know the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell, for a moment, scarcely knew whether to accept the speech as irony
+or approval; but a sidelong glance showed him that the old man's face had
+resumed its expression of mingled insolence and vanity, and convinced him
+that he was now sincere. &ldquo;The men,&rdquo; said the Judge, pompously, &ldquo;who win
+their way to high station in these days are either the crafty tricksters
+of party or the gross flatterers of the people; and whenever a man of
+superior mould is discovered, able to leave his mark on the age, and
+capable of making his name a memory, they have nothing better to offer
+him, as their homage, than an entreaty that he would resign his office and
+retire.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I go with every word you say, my Lord,&rdquo; cried Sewell, with a well-acted
+enthusiasm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want no approval, sir; I can sustain my opinions without a following!&rdquo;
+ A long silence ensued; neither was disposed to speak: at last the Judge
+said,&mdash;and he now spoke in a more kindly tone, divested alike of
+passion and of vanity,&mdash;&ldquo;Your friends must see if something cannot be
+done for you, Colonel Sewell. I have little doubt but that you have many
+and warm friends. I speak not of myself; I am but a broken reed to depend
+on. Never was there one with less credit with his party. I might go
+farther, and say, never was there one whose advocacy would be more sure to
+damage a good cause; therefore exclude <i>me</i> in all questions of your
+advancement. If you could obliterate our relationship, it might possibly
+serve you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am too proud of it, my Lord, to think so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; said he, with a sigh, &ldquo;it is possibly a thing a man need not
+feel ashamed of; at least I hope as much. But we must take the world as it
+is, and when we want the verdict of public opinion, we must not presume to
+ask for a special jury. What does that servant want? Will you have the
+kindness to ask him whom he is looking for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a visitor's card, my Lord,&rdquo; said Sewell, handing it to the old man
+as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is some writing on it. Do me the favor to read it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell took the card and read, &ldquo;See Sir B. for me.&mdash;Wilmington. Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke.&rdquo; The last words Sewell spoke in a voice barely above a
+whisper, for a deadly sickness came over him, and he swayed to and fro
+like one about to faint.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! does he return to the charge?&rdquo; cried the old man, fiercely. &ldquo;The
+Viceroy was a diplomatist once. Might it not have taught him that, after a
+failure, it would be as well to employ another envoy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have seen this gentleman already, then?&rdquo; asked Sewell, in a low faint
+tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half together,&mdash;an hour and half
+that neither of us will easily forget.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I conjecture, then, that he made no very favorable impression upon you,
+my Lord?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, you go too fast. I have said nothing to warrant your surmise; nor am
+I one to be catechised as to the opinions I form of other men. It is
+enough on the present occasion if I say I do not desire to receive Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke, accredited though he be from so high a quarter. Will you
+do me the very great favor&rdquo;&mdash;and now his voice became almost
+insinuating in its tone&mdash;&ldquo;will you so deeply oblige me ate to see him
+for me? Say that I am prevented by the state of my health; that the
+rigorous injunctions of my doctor to avoid all causes of excitement&mdash;lay
+stress on excitement&mdash;deprive me of the honor of receiving him in
+person; but that <i>you</i>&mdash;mention our relationship&mdash;have been
+deputed by me to hear, and if necessary to convey to me, any communication
+he may have to make. You will take care to impress upon him that if the
+subject-matter of his visit be the same as that so lately discussed
+between ourselves, you will avail yourself of the discretion confided to
+you not to report it to me. That my nerves have not sufficiently recovered
+from the strain of that excitement to return to a topic no less full of
+irritating features than utterly hopeless of all accommodation. Mind, sir,
+that you employ the word as I give it,&mdash;'accommodation.' It is a
+Gallicism, but all the better, where one desires to be imperative, and yet
+vague. You have your instructions, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I think I understand what you desire me to do. My only difficulty is
+to know whether the matters Sir Brook Fossbrooke may bring forward be the
+same as those you discussed together. If I had any clew to these topics, I
+should at once be in a position to say, These are themes I must decline to
+present to the Chief Baron.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have no need to know them, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, haughtily. &ldquo;You
+are in the position of an attesting witness; you have no dealing with the
+body of the document. Ask Sir Brook the question as I have put it, and
+reply as I have dictated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell stood for a moment in deep thought. Had the old man but known over
+what realms of space his mind was wandering,&mdash;what troubles and
+perplexities that brain was encountering,&mdash;he might have been more
+patient and more merciful as he gazed on him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think, sir, I have confided to you any very difficult or very
+painful task,&rdquo; said the Judge at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, my Lord,&rdquo; replied he, quickly; &ldquo;my anxiety is only
+that I may acquit myself to your perfect satisfaction. I 'll go at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will find me here whenever you want me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell bowed, and went his way; not straight towards the house, however,
+but into a little copse at the end of the garden, to recover his
+equanimity and collect himself. Of all the disasters that could befall
+him, he knew of none he was less ready to confront than the presence of
+Sir Brook Fossbrooke in the same town with himself. No suspicion ever
+crossed his mind that he would come to Ireland. The very last he had heard
+of him was in New Zealand, where it was said he was about to settle. What,
+too, could be his business with the Chief Baron? Had he discovered their
+relationship, and was he come to denounce and expose him? No,&mdash;evidently
+not. The Viceroy's introduction of him could not point in this direction,
+and then the old Judge's own manner negatived this conjecture. Had he
+heard but one of the fifty stories Sir Brook could have told of him, there
+would be no question of suffering him to cross his threshold.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How shall I meet him? how shall I address him?&rdquo; muttered he again and
+again to himself, as he walked to and fro in a perfect agony of trouble
+and perplexity. With almost any other man in the world, Sewell would have
+relied on his personal qualities to carry him through a passage of
+difficulty. He could assume a temper of complete imperturbability; he
+could put on calm, coldness, deference, if needed, to any extent; he could
+have acted his part&mdash;it would have been mere acting&mdash;as man of
+honor and man of courage to the life, with any other to confront him but
+Sir Brook.
+</p>
+<p>
+This, however, was the one man on earth who knew him,&mdash;the one man by
+whose mercy he was able to hold up his head and maintain his station; and
+that this one man should now be here! here, within a few yards of where he
+stood!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could murder him as easily as I go to meet him,&rdquo; muttered Sewell, as he
+turned towards the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
+</h2>
+<p>
+As Sir Brook sat in the library waiting for the arrival of the Chief
+Baron, Lucy Lendrick came in to look for a book she had been reading.
+&ldquo;Only think, sir,&rdquo; said she, flushing deeply with joy and astonishment
+together,&mdash;&ldquo;to find you here! What a delightful surprise!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have come, my dear child,&rdquo; said he, gravely, &ldquo;to speak with Sir William
+on a matter of some importance; and evidently he is not aware that my
+moments are precious, for I have been here above half an hour alone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But now that I am with you,&rdquo; said she, coquettishly, &ldquo;you 'll surely not
+be so churlish of your time, will you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is no churlishness, my darling Lucy, in honest thrift. I have
+nothing to give away.&rdquo; The deep sadness of his voice showed how intensely
+his words were charged with a stronger significance. &ldquo;We are off
+to-night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-night!&rdquo; cried she, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Lucy. It's no great banishment,&mdash;only to an island in the
+Mediterranean, and Tom came up here with me in the vague, very vague hope
+he might see you. I left him in the shrubbery near the gate, for he would
+not consent to come farther.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll go to him at once. We shall meet again,&rdquo; said she, as she opened
+the sash-door and hastened down the lawn at speed.
+</p>
+<p>
+After another wait of full a quarter of an hour, Foss-brooke's patience
+became exhausted, and he drew nigh the bell to summon a servant; his hand
+was on the rope, when the door opened, and Sewell entered. Whatever
+astonishment Fossbrooke might have felt at this unexpected appearance,
+nothing in his manner or look betrayed it. As for Sewell, all his
+accustomed ease had deserted him, and he came forward with an air of
+assumed swagger, but his color came and went, and his hands twitched
+almost convulsively.
+</p>
+<p>
+He bowed, and, smiling courteously, invited Fossbrooke to be seated.
+Haughtily drawing himself up to his full height, Sir Brook said, in his
+own deep sonorous voice, &ldquo;There can be nothing between us, sir, that
+cannot be dismissed in a moment&mdash;and as we stand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As you please, sir,&rdquo; rejoined Sewell, with an attempt at the same haughty
+tone. &ldquo;I have been deputed by my stepfather, the Chief Baron, to make his
+excuses for not receiving you,&mdash;his health forbids the excitement. It
+is his-wish that you may make to <i>me</i> whatever communication you had
+destined for <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which I refuse, sir, at once,&rdquo; interrupted Sir Brook. &ldquo;I opine, then,
+there is no more to be said,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a faint smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing more, sir,&mdash;not a word; unless perhaps you will be gracious
+enough to explain to the Chief Baron the reasons&mdash;they cannot be
+unknown to you&mdash;why I refuse all and any communication with Colonel
+Sewell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no presumption to read your mind and know your thoughts,&rdquo; said
+Sewell, with quiet politeness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would discover nothing in either to your advantage, sir,&rdquo; said
+Fossbrooke, defiantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Might I add, sir,&rdquo; said Sewell, with an easy smile, &ldquo;that all your
+malevolence cannot exceed my indifference to it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Fossbrooke waived his hand haughtily, as though to dismiss the subject and
+all discussion of it, and after a few seconds' pause said: &ldquo;We have a
+score that must be settled one day. I have deferred the reckoning out of
+reverence to the memory of one whose name must not be uttered between us,
+but the day for it shall come. Meanwhile, sir, you shall pay me interest
+on your debt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you assume me to owe you?&rdquo; asked Sewell, whose agitation could no
+longer be masked.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would laugh if I said, your character before the world and the repute
+through which men keep your company; but you will not laugh&mdash;no, sir,
+not even smile&mdash;when I say that you owe me the liberty by which you
+are at large, instead of being, as I could prove you, a forger and a
+felon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell threw a hurried and terrified look around the room, as though there
+might possibly be some to overhear the words; he grasped the back of a
+chair to steady himself, and in the convulsive effort seemed as if he was
+about to commit some act of violence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None of that, sir,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, folding his arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I meant nothing; I intended nothing; I was faint, and wanted support,&rdquo;
+ stammered out Sewell, in a broken voice. &ldquo;What do you mean by interest?
+How am I to pay interest on an indefinite sum?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It may relieve you of some anxiety to learn that I am not speaking of
+money in the interest I require of you. What I want&mdash;what I shall
+exact&mdash;is this: that you and yours&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped and grew
+scarlet; the fear lest something coarse or offensive might fall from him
+in a moment of heat and anger arrested his words, and he was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell saw all the difficulty. A less adroit man would have deemed the
+moment favorable to assert a triumph; Sewell was too acute for this, and
+waited without speaking a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My meaning is this,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, in a voice of emotion. &ldquo;There is a
+young lady here for whom I have the deepest interest. I desire that, so
+long as she lives estranged from her father's roof, she should not be
+exposed to other influences than such as she has met there. She is new to
+life and the world, and I would not that she should make acquaintance with
+them through any guidance save of her own nearest and dearest friends.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hear, sir; but, I am free to own, I greatly mistrust myself to
+appreciate your meaning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sorry for it,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, sighing. &ldquo;I wanted to convey my hope
+that in your intercourse here Miss Lendrick might be spared the perils of&mdash;of&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My wife's friendship, you would say, sir,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a perfect
+composure of voice and look.
+</p>
+<p>
+Fossbrooke hung his head. Shame and sorrow alike crushed him down. Oh that
+the day should come when he could speak thus of Frank Dillon's daughter!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will not say with what pain I hear you, Sir Brook,&rdquo; said Sewell, in a
+low gentle voice. &ldquo;I am certain that you never uttered such a speech
+without much suffering. It will alleviate your fears when I tell you that
+we only remain a few days in town. I have taken a country house, some
+sixty or seventy miles from the capital, and we mean to live there
+entirely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am satisfied,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, whose eagerness to make reparation was
+now extreme.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course I shall mention nothing of this to my wife,&rdquo; said Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not, sir; save with such an explanation as I could give of my
+meaning, it would be an outrage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was not aware that there was&mdash;that there could be&mdash;an
+explanation,&rdquo; said Sewell, quietly; and then seeing the sudden flash that
+shot from the old man's eyes, he added hastily, &ldquo;This is far too painful
+to dwell on; let it suffice, sir, that I fully understand you, and that
+you shall be obeyed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask no more,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, bowing slightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will comprehend, Sir Brook,&rdquo; resumed Sewell, &ldquo;that as I am precluded
+from making this conversation known to my wife, I shall not be able to
+limit any intimacy between her and Miss Lendrick farther than by such
+intimations and hints as I may offer without exciting suspicion. It might
+happen, for instance, that in coming up to town we should be Sir William's
+guests. Am I to suppose that you interdict this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope I am not capable of such a condition,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, flushing,
+for at every step and stage of the negotiation he felt that his zeal had
+outrun his judgment, and that he was attempting not only more than he
+could, but more than he ought to do.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In fairness, Sir Brook,&rdquo; said Sewell, with an assumed candor that sat
+very well on him, &ldquo;I ought to tell you that your conditions are very easy
+ones My wife has come to this country to recruit her health and look after
+her children. I myself shall probably be on my way back to India soon
+after Christmas. Our small means totally preclude living in the gay world;
+and,&rdquo; added he, with a laugh, &ldquo;if we really had any blandishments or
+captivations at our disposal, they would be best bestowed on the Horse
+Guards, to extend my leave, or assist me to an exchange.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was high art in the way in which Sewell had so contrived to get the
+old man involved in the conflict of his own feelings that he was actually
+grateful for the easy and even familiar tone employed towards him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have wounded this man deeply,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke to himself. &ldquo;I have said
+to him things alike unfeeling and ungenerous, and yet he has temper enough
+to treat me amicably, even courteously.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was almost on his lips to say that he had still some influence with the
+Horse Guards, that a great man there had been one of his most intimate
+friends in life, and that he was ready to do anything in his power with
+him, when a sudden glance at Sewell's face recalled him at once to
+himself, and he stammered out, &ldquo;I will detain you no longer, sir. Be kind
+enough to explain to the Lord Chief Baron that my communication was of a
+character that could not be made indirectly. His Excellency's name on my
+card probably suggested as much. It might be proper to add that the
+subject was one solely attaching to his Lordship and to his Lordship's
+interest. He will himself understand what I mean.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell bowed acquiescence. As he stood at the half-open door, he was
+disposed to offer his hand. It was a bold step, but he knew if it should
+succeed it would be a great victory. The opportunity was too good to be
+lost, and just as Sir Brook turned to say good-morning, Sewell, like one
+carried away by a sudden impulse, held out his hand, and said, &ldquo;You may
+trust me, Sir Brook.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you wish me to do so, sir, let me not touch your hand,&rdquo; said the old
+man, with a look of stern and haughty defiance, and he strode out without
+a farewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell staggered back into the room and sat down. A clammy cold
+perspiration covered his face and forehead, for the rancor that filled his
+heart sickened him like a malady. &ldquo;You shall pay for this, by heaven! you
+shall,&rdquo; muttered he, as he wiped the great drops from his brow. &ldquo;The old
+fool himself has taught me where he was vulnerable, and as I live he shall
+feel it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Lordship wants to see you, sir; he is in the garden,&rdquo; said a servant;
+and Sewell rose and followed him. He stopped twice as he went to compose
+his features and regain his calm. On the last time he even rehearsed the
+few words and the smile by which he meant to accost the Judge. The little
+artifice was, however, forestalled, as Sir William met him abruptly with
+the words, &ldquo;What a time you have been, sir,&mdash;forty-eight minutes by
+my watch!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you, my Lord, I'd have made it shorter if I could,&rdquo; said Sewell,
+with a smile of some significance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am unable to see why you could not have done so. The charge I gave you
+was to report to me, not to negotiate on your own part.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor did I, my Lord. Sir Brook Fossbrooke distinctly declared that he
+would only communicate with yourself personally,&mdash;that what he
+desired to say referred to yourself, and should be answered by yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On hearing which, sir, you withdrew?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So far as your Lordship was concerned, no more was said between us. What
+passed after this I may be permitted to call private.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, sir! You see a person in <i>my</i> house, at <i>my</i> instance,
+and with <i>my</i> instructions,&mdash;who comes to see and confer with <i>me</i>;
+and you have the hardihood to tell me that you took that opportunity to
+discuss questions which you call private!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust, my Lord, you will not press me in this matter; my position is a
+most painful one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is worse than painful, sir; it is humiliating. But,&rdquo; added he, after a
+short pause, &ldquo;I have reason to be grateful to you. You have rescued me
+from, perhaps, a very grave indiscretion. Your position&mdash;your wife's
+health&mdash;your children's welfare had all interested me. I might have&mdash;No
+matter what, sir. I have recovered the balance of my mind. I am myself
+again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My Lord, I will be open with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will accept of no forced confidences, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, waving his
+hand haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are not forced, my Lord, farther than my dislike to give you pain
+renders them so. The man to whom you sent me this morning is no stranger
+to me&mdash;would that he had been!&mdash;would that I had never known nor
+heard of him! Very few words will explain why, my Lord. I only entreat
+that, before I say them, they may be in strictest confidence between us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If they require secrecy, sir, they shall have it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite enough, my Lord,&mdash;amply sufficient for me is this assurance.
+This person, then, my Lord, was the old friend and brother officer of Sir
+Frank Dillon, my father-in-law. They lived as young men in closest
+friendship together; shared perils, amusements, and purse together. For
+many years nothing occurred to interrupt the relations between them,
+though frequent remonstrances from Dillon's family against the intimacy
+might possibly have caused a coolness; for the world had begun to talk of
+Fossbrooke with a certain distrust, comparing his mode of living with the
+amount of his fortune, and half hinting that his successes at play were
+more than accidental.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still Dillon held to him; and to break the tie at last, his family
+procured an Indian appointment for him, and sent him to Calcutta.
+Fossbrooke no sooner heard of it than he sold off his town house and
+horses, and actually sailed in the same packet with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us sit down, Colonel Sewell; I am wearied with walking, and I should
+like to hear the remainder of this story.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will make it very brief, my Lord. Here is a nice bench to rest on.
+Arrived in India, they commenced a style of living the most costly and
+extravagant imaginable. Their receptions, their dinners, their equipages,
+their retinues, completely eclipsed the splendors of the native princes.
+For a while these were met promptly by ready money; later on came bills,
+at first duly met, and at last dishonored. On investigation, however, it
+was found that the greater number&mdash;far the greater number&mdash;of
+the acceptances were issued by Dillon alone,&mdash;a circumstance which
+puzzled none so much as Dillon himself, who never remembered the
+emergencies that had called for them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They were forgeries by Fossbrooke,&rdquo; said the Judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right, my Lord, they were, but so adroitly done that Dillon was
+the first to declare the signatures his own; nor was the fraud ever
+discovered. To rescue his friend, as it were, Dillon sold off everything,
+and paid, I know not what amount, and they both left for Ceylon, where
+Dillon was named Commander of the Forces.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here Dillon married, and, on the birth of his first child, Fossbrooke was
+the godfather, their affection being stronger than ever. Once more the
+life of extravagance burst forth, and now, besides the costly household
+and reckless expenditure, the stories of play became rife and frequent,
+several young fellows being obliged to leave the service and sell their
+commissions to meet their debts. The scandal reached England, and Dillon
+was given his choice to resign or resume active service at his old rank.
+He accepted the last, and went back to India. For a while they were
+separated. My father-in-law made a brilliant campaign, concluding with the
+victory of Atteyghur. He was named Political Resident at the seat of
+government, and found himself in the receipt of a large revenue, and might
+in a few years have become wealthy and honored. His evil genius, however,
+was soon at his side. Fossbrooke arrived, as he said, to see him before
+leaving for Europe; he never left him till his death. From that day dated
+my father-in-law's inevitable ruin. Maladministration, corruption, forced
+loans on every side. Black-mail was imposed on all the chiefs, and a
+system of iniquity instituted that rendered the laws a farce, and the
+office of judge a degradation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Driven almost to desperation by his approaching ruin, and yet blind to
+the cause of it, Sir Frank took service against the Affghans, and fell,
+severely wounded, at Walhalla. Fossbrooke followed him to the Hills, where
+he went to die. The infatuation of that fatal man was unbroken, and on his
+deathbed he not only confided to him all the deeds and documents that
+concerned his fortune, but gave him the guardianship and control of his
+daughter. In the very last letter he ever penned are these words: 'Scandal
+may some day or other dare to asperse him (Sir Brook),&mdash;the best have
+no immunity on that score,&mdash;but I charge you, however fortune may
+deal with you, share it with him if he need it; your father never had so
+true, so noble, so generous a friend. Have full courage in any course he
+approves of, and never distrust yourself so completely as when he differs
+from you; above all, believe no ill of him.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have seen this letter,&mdash;I have read it more than once; and with my
+full knowledge of the man, with my memory stored with stories about him,
+it was very hard to see him exercise an influence in my house, and a power
+over my wife. For a while I tried to respect what had been the faith of
+her childhood; I could not bear to destroy what formed one of the links
+that bound her to her father's memory; but the man's conduct obliged me to
+abandon this clemency. He insisted on living upon us, and living in a
+style not merely costly, but openly, flagrantly disreputable. Of his
+manner to myself I will not speak; he treated me not alone as a dependant,
+but as one whose character and fortune were in his hands. To what comments
+this exposed me in my own house I leave you to imagine: I remonstrated at
+first, but my endurance became exhausted, and I turned him from my house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then began his persecution of me,&mdash;not alone of myself, but my wife,
+and all belonging to me. I must not dwell on this, or I should forget
+myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We left India, hoping never to hear more of him. There was a story that
+he had gone on a visit to a Rajah in Oude, and would in all likelihood
+live there till he died. Imagine what I felt, my Lord, when I read his
+name on that visiting-card. I knew, of course, what his presence meant, a
+pretended matter of business with you,&mdash;the real object being to
+traduce and vilify me. He had ascertained the connection between us, and
+determined to turn it to profit. So long as I followed my career in India,&mdash;a
+poor soldier of fortune,&mdash;I was not worth persecution; but here at
+home, with friends, possibly with friends able and willing to aid me, I at
+once assumed importance in his eyes. He well knows how dear to us is the
+memory of my wife's father, what sacrifices we have made, what sacrifices
+we would make again, that his name should not be harshly dealt with by the
+world. He feels, too, all the power and weight he can yield by that letter
+of poor Dillon's, given so frankly, so trustfully, and so unfortunately on
+his deathbed. In one word, my Lord, this man has come back to Europe to
+exert over me the pressure which he once on a time used over my
+father-in-law. For reasons I cannot fathom, the great people who knew him
+once, and who ought to know whom and what he has become, are still willing
+to acknowledge him. It is true he no longer frequents their houses and
+mixes in their society,&mdash;but they recognize him. The very card he
+sent in this morning bore the Viceroy's name,&mdash;and from this cause
+alone, even if there were not others, he would be dangerous. I weary you,
+my Lord, and I will conclude. By an accidental admission he let drop that
+he would soon leave Ireland for a while; let it seem, my Lord, so long as
+he remains here, that I am less intimate here, less frequent as a visitor,
+than he has imagined. Let him have grounds to imagine that my presence
+here was a mere accident, and that I am not at all likely to enjoy any
+share of your Lordship's favor,&mdash;in fact, let him believe me as
+friendless here as he saw me in India, and he will cease to speculate on
+persecuting me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There would be indignity in such a course, sir,&rdquo; cried the Judge,
+fiercely; &ldquo;the man has no terrors for <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not, my Lord, nor for me personally. I speak on my wife's
+behalf; it is for her sake and for her peace of mind I am alone thinking
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will speak to her myself on this head.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I entreat you not, my Lord. I implore you never to approach the subject.
+She has for years been torn between the terrible alternative of obeying
+the last injunctions of her father or yielding to the wishes of her
+husband. Her life has been a continual struggle, and her shattered health
+has been the consequence. No, my Lord; let us go down for a few weeks or
+months&mdash;as it may be&mdash;to this country place they have taken for
+us; a little quietness will do us both good. My leave will not expire till
+March; there is still time to look about me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Something shall be done for you, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, pompously. Sewell
+bowed low: he knew how to make his bow a very deep acknowledgment of
+gratitude; he knew the exact measure of deference and trustfulness and
+thankfulness to throw into his expression as he bent his head, while he
+seemed too much overpowered to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, you shall be cared for,&rdquo; said the old man. &ldquo;And if this person,
+this Sir Brook Fossbrooke, return here, it is with <i>me</i> he will have
+to deal,&mdash;not <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My Lord, I entreat you never to admit him; neither see nor correspond
+with him. The man is a desperado, and holds his own life too cheap to care
+for another's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, you only pique my curiosity to meet with him. I have heard of such
+fellows, but never saw one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From all I have heard, my Lord, <i>your</i> courage requires no proofs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have heard the truth, sir. It has been tested in every way, and found
+without alloy. This man came here a few days ago to ask me to nominate my
+grandson to an office in my gift; but, save a lesson for his temerity, he
+'took nothing by his motion.'&rdquo; The old Judge walked up and down with short
+impatient steps, his eyebrows moving fiercely, And his mouth twitching
+angrily. &ldquo;The Viceroy must be taught that it is not through such
+negotiators he can treat with men like myself. We hear much about the
+dignity of the Bench. I would that his Excellency should know that the
+respect for it is a homage to be rendered by the highest as well as the
+lowest, and that I for one will accept of nothing less than all the honors
+that befit my station.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Relieved, as it were, by this outburst of vanity, his heart unburdened of
+a load of self-conceit, the old man felt freer And better; and in the sigh
+he heaved there seemed a something that indicated a sense of alleviation.
+Then, turning to Sewell, with a softened voice, he said, &ldquo;How grieved I am
+that you should have passed such a morning! It was certainly not what I
+had intended for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are too good to me, my Lord,&mdash;far too good, and too thoughtful
+of me,&rdquo; said Sewell, with emotion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am one of those men who must go to the grave misconstrued and
+misrepresented. He who would be firm in an age of cowardice, he who would
+be just in an age of jobbery, cannot fail to be calumniated. But, sir,
+there is a moral stature, as there is a material stature, that requires
+distance for its proportions; and it is possible posterity will be more
+just to me than my contemporaries.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would only hope, my Lord, that the time for such a judgment may be long
+deferred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a courtier, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, smiling. &ldquo;It was amongst
+courtiers I passed my early youth, and I like them. When I was a young
+man, Colonel Sewell, it was the fashion to make the tour of Europe as a
+matter of education and good breeding. The French Court was deemed, and
+justly deemed, the first school of manners, and I firmly believe France
+herself has suffered in her forms of politeness from having ceased to be
+the centre of supply to the world. She adulterated the liquor as the
+consumers decreased in taste and increased in number.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How neatly, how admirably expressed!&rdquo; said Sewell, bowing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had some of that gift once,&rdquo; said the old man, with a sigh; &ldquo;but it is
+a weapon out of use nowadays. Epigram has its place in a museum now as
+rightfully as an Andrea Ferrara.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, my Lord, it is two o'clock. Here is your servant coming to
+announce luncheon. I am ashamed to-think what a share of your day I have
+monopolized.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will stay and take some mutton broth, I hope?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lord. I never eat luncheon, and I am, besides, horrified at
+inflicting you so long already.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, if I suffer many of the miseries of old age, I avail myself of some
+of its few privileges. One of the best of these is, never to be bored. I
+am old and feeble enough to be able to say to him who wearies me, Leave me&mdash;leave-me
+to myself and my own dreariness. Had you 'inflicted' me, as you call it, I
+'d have said as much two hours ago. Your company was, however, most
+agreeable. You know how to talk, and, what is rarer, you know how to
+listen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell bowed respectfully and in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish the school that trains aides-de-camp could be open to junior
+barristers and curates,&rdquo; muttered he, half to himself; then added aloud,
+&ldquo;Come and see me soon again. Come to breakfast, or, if you prefer it, to
+dinner. We dine at seven;&rdquo; and without further adieu than a slight wave of
+his hand, he turned away and entered the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVI. SIR BROOK IN CONFUSION
+</h2>
+<p>
+Tom Lendrick had just parted with his sister as Fossbrooke came up, and,
+taking his arm in silence, moved slowly down the road.
+</p>
+<p>
+Seeing his deep preoccupation, Tom did not speak for some time, but walked
+along without a word. &ldquo;I hope you found my grandfather in better temper,
+sir?&rdquo; asked Tom, at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He refused to receive me; he pleaded illness, or rather he called it by
+its true name, indisposition. He deputed another gentleman to meet me,&mdash;a
+Colonel Sewell, his stepson.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's the man my father saw at the Cape; a clever sort of person he
+called him, but, I suspect, not one to his liking; too much man of the
+world,&mdash;too much man of fashion for poor Dad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope so,&rdquo; muttered Fossbrooke, unconsciously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, sir; and why?&rdquo; asked Tom, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What of Lucy?&rdquo; said Sir Brook, abruptly; &ldquo;how did you think she was
+looking?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, on the whole, well. I've seen her jollier; but, to be sure, it
+was a leave-taking to-day, and that's not the occasion to put one in high
+spirits. Poor girl, she said, 'Is it not hard, Tom? There are only three
+of us, and we must all live apart.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it is,&mdash;hard, very hard. I 'd have tried once more to influence
+the old Judge if he 'd have given me a meeting. He may do worse with that
+office than bestow it on you, Tom. I believe I'd have told him as much.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's perhaps as well, sir, that you did not see him,&rdquo; said Tom, with a
+faint smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, following along the train of his own thoughts, and
+not noticing the other's remark. &ldquo;He may do worse; he may give it to <i>him</i>,
+and thus draw closer the ties between them; and if <i>that</i> man once
+gets admission there, he'll get influence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of whom are you talking, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was not speaking, Tom. I was turning over some things in my mind. By
+the way, we have much to do before evening. Go over to Hodgen's about
+those tools; he has not sent them yet: and the blasting-powder, too, has
+not come down. I ought, if I could manage the time, to test it; but it 's
+too late. I must go to the Castle for five minutes,&mdash;five minutes
+will do it; and I 'll pass by Grainger's on my way back, and buy the
+flannel&mdash;miners' flannel they call it in the advertisement. We must
+look our <i>métier</i>, Tom, eh? You told Lucy where to write, and how to
+address us, I hope?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, she wrote it down. By the way, that reminds me of a letter she
+gave me for you. It was addressed to her care, and came yesterday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man thrust it in his pocket without so much as a look at it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think the post-mark was Madeira,&rdquo; said Tom, to try and excite some
+curiosity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly. I have correspondents everywhere.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It looked like Trafford's writing, I thought.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed! let us see;&rdquo; and he drew forth the letter, and broke the
+envelope. &ldquo;Right enough, Tom,&mdash;it is Trafford.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He ran his eyes rapidly over the first lines, turned to the next side, and
+then to the end of the letter, and then once more began at the beginning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is his third attempt, he says, to reach me, having written twice
+without any acknowledgment; hence he has taken the liberty&mdash;and a
+very great liberty too&mdash;to address the present to the care of your
+sister. His brother died in March last, and the younger brother has now
+shown symptoms of the same malady, and has been sent out to Madeira. 'I
+could not,' he writes,&mdash;'I could not refuse to come out here with
+him, however eager I was to go to Ireland. You can well believe,'&rdquo;&mdash;here
+the old man slurred over the words, and murmured inaudibly for some
+seconds. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; added he at last, &ldquo;he has gone back to his old regiment,
+with good hopes of the majority. 'Hinks is sick of the service, and quite
+willing to leave. Harvey, however, stands above me, and deems it a cruel
+thing to be passed over. I must have your advice about this, as well as
+about&mdash;'&rdquo; Here again he dropped his voice and mumbled unintelligibly.
+At length he read on: &ldquo;'What is Tom doing? What a shame it would be if a
+fellow with such abilities should not make his way!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A crying shame,&rdquo; burst in Tom, &ldquo;but I neither see the abilities nor the
+way; would he kindly indicate how to find either or both?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'My mother suggested,'&rdquo; read on Sir Brook, &ldquo;'two or three things which my
+father could readily obtain, but you know the price of the promotion; you
+know what I would have to&mdash;'&rdquo; Here, once more, the old man stopped
+abruptly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pray go on, sir,&rdquo; cried Tom, eagerly; &ldquo;this interests me much, and as it
+touches myself I have half a claim to hear it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook gave no heed to the request, but read on in silence and to
+himself. Turning to the last page, he said: &ldquo;'I may then hope to be in
+England by the end of the month. I shall not go down to Holt, but straight
+to Dublin. My leave will expire on the 28th, and this will give me a good
+excuse for not going home. I am sure you will agree with me that I am
+doing the right thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'If I am fortunate enough to meet you in Dublin, I can ask your advice on
+many things which press for solution; but if you should have left Ireland
+and gone heaven knows where, what is to become of me?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Got into debt again, evidently,&rdquo; said Tom, as he puffed his cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind. I know thoroughly what he alludes to, though I am
+not at liberty to speak of it. He wishes me to leave our address with
+Colonel Cave at the barracks, and that if we should have left Ireland
+already, he 'll try and manage a month's leave, and pay us a visit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare I guessed that!&rdquo; burst out Tom. &ldquo;I had a dread of it, from the
+very day we first planned our project. I said to myself, So sure as we
+settle down to work,&mdash;to work like men who have no thought but how to
+earn their bread,&mdash;some lavender-gloved fellow, with a dressing-case
+and three hat-boxes, will drop down to disgust us alike with our own
+hardships and <i>his</i> foppery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He'll not come,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, calmly; &ldquo;and if he should, he will be
+welcome.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! as to that,&rdquo; stammered out Tom, somewhat ashamed of his late warmth,
+&ldquo;Trafford is perhaps the one exception to the sort of thing I am afraid
+of. He is a fine, manly, candid fellow, with no affectations nor any
+pretensions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A gentleman, sir,&mdash;just a gentleman, and of a very good type.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The last few lines of the letter were small and finely written, and cost
+the old man some time to decipher. At last he read them aloud. &ldquo;'Am I
+asking what you would see any objection to accord me, if I entreat you to
+give me some letter of introduction or presentation to the Chief t Baron?
+I presume that you know him; and I presume that he might not refuse to
+know <i>me</i>. It is possible I may be wrong in either or both of these
+assumptions. I am sure you will be frank in your reply to this request of
+mine, and say No, if you dislike to say Yes. I made the acquaintance of
+Colonel Sewell, the Judge's step-son, at the Cape; but I suspect&mdash;I
+may be wrong&mdash;but I suspect that to be presented by the Colonel might
+not be the smoothest road to his Lordship's acquaintance,&mdash;I was
+going to write &ldquo;favor,&rdquo; but I have no pretension, as yet at least, to
+aspire that far.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'The Colonel himself told me that his mother and Sir William never met
+without a quarrel. His affectionate remark was that the Chief Baron was
+the only creature in Europe whose temper was worse than Lady Lendrick's,
+and it would be a blessing to humanity if they could be induced to live
+together.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I saw a good deal of the Se wells at the Cape. She is charming! She was
+a Dillon, and her mother a Lascelles, some forty-fifth cousin of my
+mother's,&mdash;quite enough of relationship, however, to excuse a very
+rapid intimacy, so that I dined there when I liked, and uninvited. I did
+not like <i>him</i> so well; but then he beat me at billiards, and always
+won my money at <i>écarté</i>, and of course these are detracting
+ingredients which ought not to be thrown into the scale.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'How she sings! I don't know how you, with your rapturous love of music,
+would escape falling in love with her: all the more that she seems to me
+one who expects that sort of homage, and thinks herself defrauded if
+denied it. If the Lord Chief Baron is fond of ballads, he has been her
+captive this many a day.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'My love to Tom, if with you or within reach of you; and believe me, ever
+yours affectionately,&mdash;Lionel Trafford.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was the eldest son who died,&rdquo; said Tom, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, the heir. Lionel now succeeds to a splendid fortune and the
+baronetcy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He told me once that his father had made some sort of compact with his
+eldest son about cutting off the entail, in case he should desire to do
+it. In fact, he gave me to understand that he was n't a favorite with his
+father, and that, if by any course of events he were likely to succeed to
+the estate, it was more than probable his father would use this power, and
+merely leave him what he could not alienate,&mdash;a very small property
+that pertained to the baronetage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With reference to what did he make this revelation to you? What had you
+been talking of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely remember. I think it was about younger sons,&mdash;how hardly
+they were treated, and how unfairly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Great hardship truly that a man must labor! not to say that there is not
+a single career in life he can approach without bringing to it greater
+advantages than befall humbler men,&mdash;a better and more liberal
+education, superior habits as regards society, powerful friends, and what
+in a country like ours is inconceivably effective,&mdash;the prestige of
+family. I cannot endure this compassionate tone about younger sons. To my
+thinking they have the very best opening that life can offer, if they be
+men to profit by it; and if they are not, I care very little what becomes
+of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do think it hard that my elder brother should have fortune and wealth
+to over-abundance, while my pittance will scarcely keep me in cigars.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have no right, sir, to think of his affluence. It is not in the
+record; the necessities of your position have no-relation to his
+superfluities. Bethink you of yourself, and if cigars are too expensive
+for you, smoke cavendish. Trafford was full of this cant about the cruelty
+of primogeniture, but I would have none of it. Whenever a man tells me
+that he deems it a hardship that he should do anything for his livelihood,
+I leave him, and hope never to see more of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Trafford surely did not say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&mdash;certainly not; there would have been no correspondence between
+us if he had. But I want to see these young fellows showing the world that
+they shrink from no competitorship with any. They have long proved that to
+confront danger and meet death they are second to none. Let me show that
+in other qualities they admit of no inferiority,&mdash;that they are as
+ready for enterprise, as well able to stand cold and hunger and thirst, to
+battle with climate and disease. <i>I</i> know well they can do it, but I
+want the world to know it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to intellectual distinctions,&rdquo; said Tom, &ldquo;I think they are the equals
+of any. The best man in Trinity in my day was a fellow-commoner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This speech seemed to restore the old man to his best humor. He slapped
+young Lendrick familiarly on the shoulder and said: &ldquo;It would be a grand
+thing, Tom, if we could extend the application of that old French adage,
+'noblesse oblige,' and make it apply to every career in life and every
+success. Come along down this street; I want to buy some nails,&mdash;we
+can take them home with us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They soon made their purchases; and each, armed with a considerably sized
+brown-paper parcel, issued from the shop,&mdash;the old man eagerly
+following up the late theme, and insisting on all the advantages good
+birth and blood conferred, and what a grand resource was the gentleman
+element in moments of pressure and temptation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Excellency wishes to speak to you, sir,&rdquo; said a footman, respectfully
+standing hat in hand before him &ldquo;The carriage is over the way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook nodded an assent, and then, turning to Torn, said, &ldquo;Have the
+kindness to hold this for me for a moment; I will not detain you longer;&rdquo;
+ and placing in young Lendrick's hands a good-sized parcel, he stepped
+across the street, totally forgetting that over his left arm, the hand of
+which was in his pocket, a considerable coil of strong rope depended,
+being one of his late purchases. As he drew nigh the carriage, he made a
+sign that implied defeat; and mortified as the Viceroy was at the
+announcement, he could not help smiling at the strange guise in which the
+old man presented himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how so, Fossbrooke?&rdquo; asked he, in answer to the other's signal.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply, he would not see me, my Lord. Our first meeting had apparently
+left no very agreeable memories of me, and he scarcely cared to cultivate
+an acquaintance that opened so inauspiciously.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you sent him your card with my name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; and his reply was to depute another gentleman to receive me and take
+my communication.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which you refused, of course, to make?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which I refused.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you incline to suppose that the Chief Baron guessed the object of your
+visit?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no means of arriving at that surmise, my Lord. His refusal of me
+was so peremptory that it left me no clew to any guess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was the person deputed to receive you one with whom it was at all
+possible to indicate such an intimation of your business as might convey
+to the Chief Baron the necessity of seeing you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite the reverse, my Lord; he was one with whom, from previous
+knowledge, I could hold little converse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then there is, I fear, nothing to be done.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Except to thank you heartily, my dear Fossbrooke, and ask you once more,
+why are you going away?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told you last night I was going to make a fortune. I have&mdash;to my
+own astonishment I own it&mdash;begun to feel that narrow means are
+occasionally most inconvenient; that they limit a man's action in so many
+ways that he comes at last to experience a sort of slavery; and instead of
+chafing against this, I am resolved to overcome it, and become rich.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope, with all my heart, you may. There is no man whom wealth will more
+become, or who will know how to dispense it more reputably.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, we have gathered a crowd around us, my Lord,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke,
+looking to right and left, where now a number of people had gathered,
+attracted by the Viceroy's presence, but still more amused by the
+strange-looking figure with the hank of rope over his arm, who discoursed
+so freely with his Excellency. &ldquo;This is one of the penalties of greatness,
+I take it,&rdquo; continued he. &ldquo;It's your Excellency's Collar of St. Patrick
+costs you these attentions&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I rather suspect it's <i>your 'grand cordon</i>,' Fossbrooke,&rdquo; said the
+Viceroy, laughing, while he pointed to the rope.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bless my stars!&rdquo; exclaimed Sir Brook, blushing deeply, &ldquo;how forgetful I
+am growing! I hope you forgive me. I am sure you could not suppose&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could never think anything but good of you, Fossbrooke. Get in, and
+come out to 'the Lodge' to dinner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; impossible. I am heartily ashamed of myself. I grow worse and
+worse every day; people will lose patience at last, and cut me; good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait one moment. I want to ask you something about young Lendrick. Would
+he take an appointment in a colonial regiment? Would he&mdash;&rdquo; But
+Fossbrooke had elbowed his way through the dense crowd by this time, and
+was far out of hearing,&mdash;shocked with himself, and overwhelmed with
+the thought that in his absurd forgetfulness he might have involved
+another in ridicule.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Think of me standing talking to his Excellency with this on my arm, Tom!&rdquo;
+ said he, flushing with shame and annoyance: &ldquo;how these absent fits keep
+advancing on me! When a man begins to forget himself in this fashion, the
+time is not very distant when his friends will be glad to forget him. I
+said so this moment to Lord Wilmington, and I am afraid that he agreed
+with me. Where are the screws, Tom,&mdash;have I been forgetting them
+also?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, I have them here; the holdfasts were not finished, but they will
+be sent over to us this evening, along with the cramps you ordered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, then, my head was clear so far,&rdquo; cried he, with a smile. &ldquo;In my
+prosperous days, Tom, these freaks of mine were taken as good jokes, and
+my friends laughed at them over my Burgundy; but when a man has no longer
+Burgundy to wash down his blunders with, it is strange how different
+becomes the criticism, and how much more candid the critic.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that, in point of enlightenment, sir, it is better to be poor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is what I was just going to observe to you,&rdquo; said he, calmly. &ldquo;Can you
+give me a cigar?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE TWO LUCYS
+</h2>
+<p>
+Within a week after this incident, while Fossbrooke and young Lendrick
+were ploughing the salt sea towards their destination, Lucy sat in her
+room one morning engaged in drawing. She was making a chalk copy from a
+small photograph her brother had sent her, a likeness of Sir Brook, taken
+surreptitiously as he sat smoking at a window, little heeding or knowing
+of the advantage thus taken of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The head was considerably advanced, the brow and the eyes were nearly
+finished, and she was trying for the third time to get an expression into
+the mouth which the photograph had failed to convey, but which she so
+often observed in the original. Eagerly intent on her work, she never
+heard the door open behind her, and was slightly startled as a very gentle
+hand was laid on her shoulder.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this a very presumptuous step of mine, dear Lucy?&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell,
+with one of her most bewitching smiles: &ldquo;have I your leave for coming in
+upon you in this fashion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you have, my dear Mrs. Sewell; it is a great pleasure to me to
+see you here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I may take off my bonnet and my shawl and my gloves and my company
+manner, as my husband calls it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! <i>you</i> have no company manner,&rdquo; broke in Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I used to think not; but men are stern critics, darling, and especially
+when they are husbands. You will find out, one of these days, how neatly
+your liege lord will detect every little objectionable trait in your
+nature, and with what admirable frankness he will caution you against&mdash;yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I almost think I 'd rather he would not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm very certain of it, Lucy,&rdquo; said the other, with greater firmness
+than before. &ldquo;The thing we call love in married life has an existence only
+a little beyond that of the bouquet you carried to the wedding-breakfast;
+and it would be unreasonable in a woman to expect it, but she might fairly
+ask for courtesy and respect, and you would be amazed how churlish even
+gentlemen can become about expending these graces in their own families.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy was both shocked and astonished at what she heard, and the grave tone
+in which the words were uttered surprised her most of all.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Sewell had by this time taken off her bonnet and shawl, and, pushing
+back her luxuriant hair from her forehead, looked as though suffering from
+headache, for her brows were contracted, and the orbits around her eyes
+dark and purple-looking.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not quite well to-day,&rdquo; said Lucy, as she sat down on the sofa
+beside her, and took her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;About as well as I ever am,&rdquo; said she, sighing; and then, as if suddenly
+recollecting herself, added, &ldquo;India makes such an inroad on health and
+strength! No buoyancy of temperament ever resisted that fatal climate. You
+would n't believe it, Lucy, but I was once famed for high spirits.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can well believe it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was, however, very long ago. I was little more than a child at the
+time&mdash;that is, I was about fourteen or fifteen&mdash;when I left
+England, to which I returned in my twentieth year. I went back very soon
+afterwards to nurse my poor father, and be married.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The depth of sadness in which she spoke the last words made the silence
+that followed intensely sad and gloomy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said she, with a deep melancholy smile, &ldquo;papa called me madcap. Oh
+dear, if our fathers and mothers could look back from that eternity they
+have gone to, and see how the traits they traced in our childhood have
+saddened and sobered down into sternest features, would they recognize us
+as their own? I don't look like a madcap now, Lucy, do I?&rdquo; As she said
+this, her eyes swam in tears, and her lip trembled convulsively. Then
+standing hastily up, she drew nigh the table, and leaned over to look at
+the drawing at which Lucy had been engaged.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What!&rdquo; cried she, with almost a shriek,&mdash;&ldquo;what is this? Whose
+portrait is this? Tell me at once; who is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very dear friend of mine and of Tom's. One you could not have ever met,
+I'm sure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how do you know whom I have met?&rdquo; cried she, fiercely. &ldquo;What can you
+know of my life and my associates?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I said so, because he is one who has lived long estranged from the
+world,&rdquo; said Lucy, gently; for in the sudden burst of the other's passion
+she only saw matter for deep compassion. It was but another part of a
+nature torn and distracted by unceasing anxieties.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But his name,&mdash;his name?&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, wildly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His name is Sir Brook Fossbrooke.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I knew it, I knew it!&rdquo; cried she, wildly,&mdash;&ldquo;I knew it!&rdquo; and said it
+over and over again. &ldquo;Go where we will we shall find him. He haunts; us
+like a curse,&mdash;like a curse!&rdquo; And it was in almost a shriek the last
+word came forth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You cannot know the man if you say this of him,&rdquo; said Lucy, firmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not know him!&mdash;not know him! You will tell me next that I do not
+know myself,&mdash;not know my own name,&mdash;not know the life of
+bitterness I have lived,&mdash;the shame of it,&mdash;the ineffable shame
+of it!&rdquo; and she threw herself on her face on the sofa, and sobbed
+convulsively. Long and anxiously did Lucy try all in her power to comfort
+and console her. She poured out her whole heart in pledges of sisterly
+love and affection. She assured her of a sympathy that would never desert
+her; and, last of all, she told her that her judgment of Sir Brook was a
+mistaken one,&mdash;that in the world there lived not one more
+true-hearted, more generous, or more noble.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where did you learn all this, young woman?&rdquo; said the other,
+passionately. &ldquo;In what temptations and trials of your life have these
+experiences been gained? Oh, don't be angry with me, dearest Lucy; forgive
+this rude speech of mine; my head is turning, and I know not what I say.
+Tell me, child, did this man speak to you of my husband?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor of myself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not a word. I don't believe he was aware that we were related to each
+other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He not aware? Why, it's his boast that he knows every one and every one's
+connections. You never heard him speak without this parade of universal
+acquaintanceship. But why did he come here? How did you happen to meet
+him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the merest accident. Tom found him one day fishing the river close to
+our house, and they got to talk together; and it ended by his coming to us
+to tea. Intimacy followed very quickly, and then a close friendship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you mean to tell me that all this while he never alluded to us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is so unlike him,&mdash;so unlike him,&rdquo; muttered she, half to
+herself. &ldquo;And the last place you saw him,&mdash;where was it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here in this house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here! Do you mean that he came here to see you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he had some business with grandpapa, and called one morning, but he
+was not received. Grandpapa was not well, and sent Colonel Sewell to meet
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He sent my husband! And did he go?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you sure of that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never heard of this,&rdquo; said she, holding her hands to her temples.
+&ldquo;About what time was it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was on Friday last. I remember the day, because it was the last time I
+saw poor Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On Friday last,&rdquo; said she, pondering. &ldquo;Yes, you are right. I do remember
+that Friday;&rdquo; and she drew up the sleeve of her dress, and looked at a
+dark-blue mark upon the fair white skin of her arm; but so hastily was the
+action done that Lucy did not remark it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was on Friday morning. It was on the forenoon of Friday, was it not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. The clock struck one, I remember, as I got back to the house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me, Lucy,&rdquo; said she in a caressing tone, as she drew her arm round
+the girl's waist,&mdash;&ldquo;tell me, darling, how did Colonel Sewell look
+after that interview? Did he seem angry or irritated? I'll tell you why I
+ask this some other time,&mdash;but I want to know if he seemed vexed or
+chagrined by meeting this man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not see him after; he went away almost immediately after Sir Brook.
+I heard his voice talking with grandpapa in the garden, but I went to my
+room, and we did not meet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As they spoke in the garden, were their voices raised? Did they talk like
+men excited or in warmth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. Their tone and manner were what you say,&mdash;so much so that I
+went away, not to overhear them. Grandpapa, I know, was angry at
+something; and when we met at luncheon, he barely spoke to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what conclusion did you draw from all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None! There was nothing to induce me to dwell on the circumstance;
+besides,&rdquo; added she, with some irritation, &ldquo;I am not given to reason upon
+the traits of people's manner, or their tone in speaking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor perhaps accustomed to inquire, when your grandfather is vexed, what
+it is that has irritated him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not. It is a liberty I should not dare to take.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, darling,&rdquo; said she, with a saucy laugh, &ldquo;he is more fortunate in
+having <i>you</i> for a granddaughter than me. I 'm afraid I should have
+less discretion,&mdash;at all events, less dread.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't be so sure of that,&rdquo; said Lucy, quietly. &ldquo;Grandpapa is no common
+person. It is not his temper but his talent that one is loath to
+encounter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not suspect that either would terrify me greatly. As the soldiers
+say, Lucy, I have been under fire pretty often, and I don't mind it now.
+Do you know, child, that we have got into a most irritable tone with each
+other? Each of us is saying something that provokes a sharp reply, and we
+are actually sparring without knowing it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I certainly did not know it,&rdquo; said Lucy, taking her hand within both her
+own, &ldquo;and I ask pardon if I have said anything to hurt you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Leaving her hand to Lucy unconsciously, and not heeding one word of what
+she had said, Mrs. Sewell sat with her eyes fixed on the floor deep in
+thought. &ldquo;I 'm sure, Lucy,&rdquo; said she at last, &ldquo;I don't know why I asked
+you all those questions awhile ago. That man&mdash;Sir Brook, I mean&mdash;is
+nothing to me; he ought to be, but he is not. My father and he were
+friends; that is, my father thought he was his friend, and left him the
+guardianship of me on his deathbed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your guardian,&mdash;Sir Brook your guardian?&rdquo; cried Lucy, with intense
+eagerness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; with more power than the law, I believe, would accord to any
+guardian.&rdquo; She paused and seemed lost in thought for some seconds, and
+then went on: &ldquo;Colonel Sewell and he never liked each other. Sir Brook
+took little trouble to be liked by him; perhaps Dudley was as careless on
+his side. What a tiresome vein I have got in! How should <i>you</i> care
+for all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I do care&mdash;I care for all that concerns you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I take it, if you were to hear Sir Brook's account, we should not make a
+more brilliant figure than himself. He 'd tell you about our mode of life,
+and high play, and the rest of it; but, child, every one plays high in
+India, every one does scores of things there they would n't do at home,
+partly because the <i>ennui</i> of life tempts to anything,&mdash;anything
+that would relieve it; and then all are tolerant because all are equally&mdash;I
+was going to say wicked; but I don't mean wickedness,&mdash;I mean bored
+to that degree that there is no stimulant left without a breach of the
+decalogue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think that might be called wickedness,&rdquo; said Lucy, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Call it what you like, only take my word for it you 'd do the selfsame
+things if you lived there. I was pretty much what you are now when I left
+England; and if any naughty creature like myself were to talk, as I am
+doing to you now, and make confession of all her misdeeds and misfortunes,
+I'm certain I'd have known how to bridle up and draw away my hand, and
+retire to a far end of the sofa, and look unutterable pruderies, just as
+you do this moment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Without ever suspecting it, certainly,&rdquo; said Lucy laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tear up that odious drawing, dear Lucy,&rdquo; said she, rising and walking the
+room with impatience. &ldquo;Tear it up; or, if you won't do that, let me write
+a line under it&mdash;one line, I ask for no more&mdash;so that people may
+know at whom they are looking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will do neither; nor will I sit here to listen to one word against
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which means, child, that your knowledge of life is so-much greater than
+mine, you can trust implicitly to your own judgment. I can admire your
+courage, certainly, though I am not captivated by your prudence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is because I have so little faith in my own judgment that I am
+unwilling to lose the friend who can guide me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps it would be unsafe if I were to ask you to choose between <i>him</i>
+and me,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, very slowly, and with her eyes fully bent on
+Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you will not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With such a warning I certainly shall not do so. Who-could have believed
+it was so late?&rdquo; said she, hastily looking at her watch; &ldquo;What a seductive
+creature you must be, child, to slip over one's whole morning without
+knowing it,&mdash;two o'clock already. You lunch about this time?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, punctually at two.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you sufficiently lady of the house to invite me, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sure <i>you</i> need no invitation here; you are one of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a little Jesuit it is!&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, patting her cheek. &ldquo;Come,
+child, I 'll be equal with you. I 'll enter the room on your arm, and say,
+'Sir William, your granddaughter insisted on my remaining; I thought it an
+awkwardness, but she tells me she is the mistress here, and I obey.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you will find he will be too well-bred to contradict you,&rdquo; said Lucy,
+while a deep blush covered her face and throat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I think him positively charming!&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, as she arranged
+her hair before the glass; &ldquo;I think him charming. My mother-in-law and I
+have a dozen pitched battles every day on the score of his temper and his
+character. <i>My</i> theory is, the only intolerable thing on earth is a
+fool; and whether it be that Lady Lendrick suspects me of any secret
+intention to designate one still nearer to her by this reservation, I do
+not know, but the declaration drives her half crazy. Come, Lucy, we shall
+be keeping grandpapa waiting for us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They moved down the stairs arm-in-arm, without a word; but as they gained
+the door of the dining-room, Mrs. Sewell turned fully round and said, in a
+low deep voice, &ldquo;Marry anything,&mdash;rake, gambler, villain,&mdash;anything,
+the basest and the blackest; but never take a fool, for a fool means them
+all combined.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE NEST WITH STRANGE &ldquo;BIRDS&rdquo; IN IT
+</h2>
+<p>
+To the Swan's Nest, very differently tenanted from what we saw it at the
+opening of our story, we have now to conduct our reader. Its present
+occupant&mdash;&ldquo;the acquisition to any neighborhood,&rdquo; as the house-agent
+styled him&mdash;was Colonel Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Lendrick had taken the place for her son on finding that Sir William
+would not extend his hospitality to him. She had taken the precaution not
+merely to pay a year's rent in advance, but to make a number of changes in
+the house and its dependencies, which she hoped might render the residence
+more palatable to him, and reconcile him in some degree to its isolation
+and retirement.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Colonel was, however, one of those men&mdash;they are numerous enough
+in this world&mdash;who canvass the mouth of the gift-horse, and have few
+scruples in detecting the signs of his age. He criticised the whole place
+with a most commendable frankness. It was a &ldquo;pokey little hole.&rdquo; It was
+dark; it was low-ceilinged. It was full of inconveniences. The furniture
+was old-fashioned. You had to mount two steps into the drawing-room and go
+down three into the dining-room. He had to cross a corridor to his
+bath-room, and there was a great Tudor window in the small
+breakfast-parlor, that made one feel as if sitting in a lantern.
+</p>
+<p>
+As for the stables, &ldquo;he would n't put a donkey into them.&rdquo; No light, no
+ventilation,&mdash;no anything, in short. To live surrounded with so many
+inconveniences was the most complete assertion of his fallen condition,
+and, as he said, &ldquo;he had never realized his fall in the world till he
+settled down in that miserable Nest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There are men whose especial delight it is to call your attention to their
+impaired condition, their threadbare coat, their patched shoes, their
+shabby equipage, or their sorry dwelling, as though they were framing a
+sort of indictment against Fate, and setting forth the hardships of
+persons of merit like them being subjected to this unjustifiable treatment
+by Fortune.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you never thought to see me reduced to this,&rdquo; is the burden of
+their song; and it is very strange how, by mere repetition and insistence,
+these people establish for themselves a sort of position, and oblige the
+world to yield them a black-mail of respect and condolence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This was not the sort of tipple I used to set before you once on a time,
+old fellow,&rdquo; will be uttered by one of whose hospitalities you have never
+partaken. &ldquo;It was another guess sort of beast I gave you for a mount when
+we met last,&rdquo; will be said by a man who never rose above a cob pony; and
+one is obliged to yield a kind of polite assent to such balderdash, or
+stand forward as a public prosecutor and arraign the rascal for a humbug.
+</p>
+<p>
+In this self-commiseration Sewell was a master, and there was not a corner
+of the house he did not make the butt of his ridicule,&mdash;to contrast
+its littleness and vulgarity with the former ways and belongings of his
+own once splendor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You're capital fellows,&rdquo; said he to a party of officers from the
+neighboring garrison, &ldquo;to come and see me in this dog-hole. Try and find a
+chair you can sit on, and I 'll ask my wife if we can give you some
+dinner. You remember me up at Rangoon, Hobbes? Another guess sort of
+place, wasn't it? I had the Rajah's palace and four elephants at my
+orders. At Guzerat, too, I was the Resident, and, by Jove, I never dreamed
+of coming down to this!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Too indolent or too indifferent to care where or how she was lodged, his
+wife gave no heed to his complaints, beyond a little half-supercilious
+smile as he uttered them. &ldquo;If a fellow will marry, however, he deserves it
+all,&rdquo; was his usual wind-up to all his lamentations; and in this he seemed
+to console himself by the double opportunity of pitying himself and
+insulting his wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+All that Colonel Cave and his officers could say in praise of the spot,
+its beauty, its neatness, and its comfort, were only fresh aliment to his
+depreciation, and he more than half implied that possibly the place was
+quite good enough for <i>them</i>, but that was not exactly the question
+at issue.
+</p>
+<p>
+Some men go through life permitted to say scores of things for which their
+neighbor would be irrevocably cut and excluded from society. Either that
+the world is amused at their bitterness, or that it is regarded as a
+malady, far worse to him who bears than to him who witnesses it,&mdash;whatever
+the reason,&mdash;people endure these men, and make even a sort of vicious
+pets of them. Sewell was of this order, and a fine specimen too.
+</p>
+<p>
+All the men around him were his equals in every respect, and yet there was
+not one of them who did not accept a position of quiet, unresisting
+inferiority to him for the sake of his bad temper and his bad tongue. It
+was &ldquo;his way,&rdquo; they said, and they bore it.
+</p>
+<p>
+He was a consummate adept in all the details of a household; and his
+dinners were perfection, his wine good, and his servants drilled to the
+very acme of discipline. These were not mean accessories to any
+pretension; and as they sat over their claret, a pleasanter and more
+social tone succeeded than the complaining spirit of their host had at
+first promised.
+</p>
+<p>
+The talk was chiefly professional. Pipeclay will ever assert its
+pre-eminence, and with reason, for it is a grand leveller; and Digges, who
+joined three months ago, may have the Army List as well by heart as the
+oldest major in the service: and so they discussed, Where was Hobson? what
+made Jobson sell out? how did Bobson get out of that scrape with the
+paymaster? and how long will Dobson be able to live at his present rate in
+that light-cavalry corps? Everything that fell from them showed the most
+thorough intimacy with the condition, the fortune, and the prospects of
+the men they discussed,&mdash;familiarity there was enough of, but no
+friendship. No one seemed to trouble himself whether the sick-leave or the
+sell-out meant hopeless calamity,&mdash;all were dashed with a species of
+well-bred fatalism that was astonished with nothing, rejoiced at nothing,
+repined at nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish Trafford would make up his mind!&rdquo; cried one. &ldquo;Three weeks ago he
+told me positively he would leave, and now I hear he offered Craycroft
+three thousand pounds to retire from the majority.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's true; Craycroft told me so himself; but old Joe is a wily bird,
+and he 'll not be taken so easily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's an eldest son now!&rdquo; broke in another. &ldquo;What does he care whether he
+be called major or captain?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An eldest son!&rdquo; cried Sewell, suddenly; &ldquo;how is that? When I met him at
+the Cape, he spoke of an elder brother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he had, then, but he's 'off the hooks.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think it matters much,&rdquo; said the Colonel. &ldquo;The bulk of the
+property is disentailed, and Sir Hugh can leave it how he likes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's what I call downright shameful,&rdquo; said one; but he was the
+minority, for a number of voices exclaimed,&mdash;&ldquo;And perfectly right;
+that law of primogeniture is a positive barbarism.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While the dispute waxed warm and noisy, Sewell questioned the Colonel
+closely about Trafford,&mdash;how it happened that the entail was removed,
+and why there was reason to suppose that Sir Hugh and his son were not on
+terms of friendship.
+</p>
+<p>
+Cave was frank enough when he spoke of the amount of the fortune and the
+extent of the estate, but used a careful caution in speaking of family
+matters, merely hinting that Trafford had gone very fast, spent a deal of
+money, had his debts twice paid by his father, and was now rather in the
+position of a reformed spendthrift, making a good character for prudence
+and economy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where is he?&mdash;not in Ireland?&rdquo; asked Se well, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he is to join on Monday. I got a hurried note from him this morning,
+dated Holyhead. You said you had met him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, at the Cape; he used to come and dine with us there occasionally.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you like him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In a way. Yes, I think he was a nice fellow,&mdash;that is, he might be
+made a nice fellow, but it was always a question into what hands he fell;
+he was at the same time pliant and obstinate. He would always imitate,&mdash;he
+would never lead. So he seemed to me; but, to tell you the truth, I left
+him a good deal to the women; he was too young and too fresh for a man
+like myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are rather hard on him,&rdquo; said Cave, laughing; &ldquo;but you are partly
+right. He has, however, fine qualities,&mdash;he is generous and trustful
+to any extent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Sewell, carelessly, as he bit off the end of a cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing would make him swerve from his word; and if placed in a
+difficulty where a friend was involved, his own interests would be the
+last he 'd think of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very fine, all that. Are you drinking claret?&mdash;if so, finish that
+decanter, and let's have a fresh bottle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave declined to take more wine, and he arose, with the rest, to repair to
+the drawing-room for coffee.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not very usual for Sewell to approach his wife or notice her in
+society; now, however, he drew a chair near her as she sat at the fire,
+and in a low whisper said, &ldquo;I have some pleasant news for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; she said coldly,&mdash;&ldquo;what a strange incident!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean it is a strange channel for pleasant news to come through,
+perhaps,&rdquo; said he, with a curl of his lip.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly that is what I meant,&rdquo; said she, as quietly as before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None of these fine-lady airs with me, Madam,&rdquo; said he, reddening with
+anger; &ldquo;there are no two people in Europe ought to understand each other
+better than we do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that I quite agree with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And as such is the case, affectations are clean thrown away, Madam; we <i>can</i>
+have no disguises for each other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A very slight inclination of her head seemed to assent to this remark, but
+she did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We came to plain speaking many a day ago,&rdquo; said he, with increased
+bitterness in his tone. &ldquo;I don't see why we are to forego the advantage of
+it now,&mdash;do you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By no means. Speak as plainly as you wish; I am quite ready to hear you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have managed, however, to make people observe us,&rdquo; muttered he,
+between his teeth,&mdash;&ldquo;it's an old trick of yours, Madam. You can play
+martyr at the shortest notice.&rdquo; He rose hastily and moved to another part
+of the room, where a very noisy group were arranging a party for pool at
+billiards.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Won't you have me?&rdquo; cried Sewell, in his ordinary tone. &ldquo;I'm a perfect
+boon at pool; for I am the most unlucky dog in everything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely think you'll expect us to believe <i>that</i>,&rdquo; said Cave,
+with a glance of unmistakable admiration towards Mrs. Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; cried Sewell, fiercely, and answering the unspoken sentiment,&mdash;&ldquo;ay,
+sir, and <i>that</i>,&rdquo;&mdash;he laid a stern emphasis on the word,&mdash;&ldquo;and
+<i>that</i> the worst luck of all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've been asking Mrs. Sewell to play a game with us, and she says she
+has no objections,&rdquo; said a young subaltern, &ldquo;if Colonel Sewell does not
+dislike it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll play whist, then,&rdquo; said Sewell. &ldquo;Who 'll make a rubber?&mdash;Cave,
+will you? Here's Houghton and Mowbray,&mdash;eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Mowbray,&mdash;&ldquo;you are all too good for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I hate that,&mdash;too good for me,&rdquo; said Sewell. &ldquo;Why, man, what
+better investment could you ask for your money than the benefit of good
+teaching? Always ride with the best hounds, play with the best players,
+talk with the best talkers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And make love to the prettiest women,&rdquo; added Cave, in a whisper, as
+Mowbray followed Mrs. Sewell into the billiard-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard you, Cave,&rdquo; whispered Sewell, in a still lower whisper; &ldquo;there's
+devilish little escapes my ears, I promise you.&rdquo; The bustle and
+preparation of the card-table served in part to cover Cave's confusion,
+but his cheek tingled and his hand shook with mingled shame and annoyance.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell saw it all, and knew how to profit by it. He liked high play, to
+which Cave generally objected; but he well knew that on the present
+occasion Cave would concur in anything to cover his momentary sense of
+shame.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pounds and fives, I suppose,&rdquo; said Sewell; and the others bowed, and the
+game began.
+</p>
+<p>
+As little did Cave like three-handed whist, but he was in no mood to
+oppose anything; for, like many men who have made an awkward speech, he
+exaggerated the meaning through his fears, and made it appear absolutely
+monstrous to himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever you like,&rdquo; was therefore his remark; and he sat down to the
+game.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell was a skilled player; but the race is no more to the swift in cards
+than in anything else,&mdash;he lost, and lost heavily. He undervalued his
+adversaries too, and, in consequence, he followed up his bad luck by
+increased wagers. Cave tried to moderate the ardor he displayed, and even
+remonstrated with him on the sums they were staking, which, he
+good-humoredly remarked, were far above his own pretensions; but Sewell
+resented the advice, and replied with a coarse insinuation about winners'
+counsels. The ill-luck continued, and Sewell's peevishness and ill-temper
+increased with every game. &ldquo;What have I lost to you?&rdquo; cried he, abruptly,
+to Cave; &ldquo;it jars on my nerves every time you take out that cursed
+memorandum, so that all I can do is not to fling it into the fire.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sure I wish you would, or that you would let me do it,&rdquo; said Cave,
+quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How much is it?&mdash;not short of three hundred, I'll be bound.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is upwards of five hundred,&rdquo; said Cave, handing the book across the
+table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll have to wait for it, I promise you. You must give me time, for I
+am in all sorts of messes just now.&rdquo; While Cave assured him that there was
+no question of pressing for payment,&mdash;to take his own perfect
+convenience,&mdash;Sewell, not heeding him, went on: &ldquo;This confounded
+place has cost me a pot of money. My wife, too, knows how to scatter her
+five-pound notes; in short, we are a wasteful lot. Shall we have one
+rubber more, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As you like. I am at your orders.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us say double or quits, then, for the whole sum.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave made no reply, and seemed not to know how to answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, if you object,&rdquo; said Sewell, pushing back his chair from the
+table, as though about to rise, &ldquo;there's no more to be said.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do <i>you</i> say, Houghton?&rdquo; asked Cave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Houghton has nothing to say to it; <i>he</i> hasn't won twenty pounds
+from me,&rdquo; said Sewell, fiercely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever you like, then,&rdquo; said Cave, in a tone in which it was easy to
+see irritation was with difficulty kept under, and the game began.
+</p>
+<p>
+The game began in deep silence. The restrained temper of the players and
+the heavy sum together impressed them, and not a word was dropped. The
+cards fell upon the table with a clear, sharp sound, and the clink of the
+counters resounded through the room, the only noises there.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they played, the company from the billiard-room poured in and drew
+around the whist-table, at first noisily enough; but seeing the deep
+preoccupation of the players, their steadfast looks, their intense
+eagerness, made more striking by their silence, they gradually lowered
+their voices, and at last only spoke in whispers and rarely.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first game of the rubber had been contested trick by trick, but ended
+by Cave winning it. The second game was won by Sewell, and the third
+opened with his deal.
+</p>
+<p>
+As he dealt the cards, a murmur ran through the bystanders that the stake
+was something considerable, and the interest increased in consequence. A
+few trifling bets were laid on the issue, and one of the group, in a voice
+slightly raised above the rest, said, &ldquo;I'll back Sewell for a pony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg you will not, sir,&rdquo; said Sewell, turning fiercely round. &ldquo;I'm in
+bad luck already, and I don't want to be swamped altogether. There, sir,
+your interference has made me misdeal,&rdquo; cried he, passionately, as he
+flung the cards on the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+Not a word was said as Cave began his deal. It was too plain to every one
+that Sewell's temper was becoming beyond control, and that a word or a
+look might bring the gravest consequences.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What cards!&rdquo; said Cave, as he spread his hand on the table: &ldquo;four honors
+and nine trumps.&rdquo; Sewell stared at them, moved his fingers through them to
+separate and examine them, and then, turning his head round, he looked
+behind. It was his wife was standing at the back of his chair, calm, pale,
+and collected. &ldquo;By Heaven!&rdquo; cried he, savagely, &ldquo;I knew who was there as
+well as if I saw her. The moment Cave spread out his cards, I 'd have
+taken my oath that <i>she</i> was standing over me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She moved hastily away at the ruffianly speech, and a low murmur of
+indignant anger filled the room. Cave and Houghton quitted the table, and
+mingled with the others; but Sewell sat still, tearing up the cards one by
+one, with a quiet, methodical persistence that betrayed no passion.
+&ldquo;There!&rdquo; said he, as he threw the last fragment from him, &ldquo;you shall never
+bring good or bad luck to any one more.&rdquo; With the ease of one to whom such
+paroxysms were not un-frequent, he joined in the conversation of a group
+of young men, and with a familiar jocularity soon set them at their ease
+towards him; and then, drawing his arm within Cave's, he led him apart,
+and said: &ldquo;I 'll go over to the Barrack to-morrow and breakfast with you.
+I have just thought of how I can settle this little debt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, don't distress yourself about that,&rdquo; said Cave. &ldquo;I beg you will not
+let it give you a moment's uneasiness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good fellow!&rdquo; said Sewell, clapping him on the shoulder; &ldquo;but I have the
+means of doing it without inconvenience, as I 'll show you to-morrow.
+Don't go yet; don't let your fellows go. We are going to have a broil, or
+a devilled biscuit, or something.&rdquo; He walked over and rang the bell, and
+then hastily passed on into a smaller room, where his wife was sitting on
+a sofa, an old doctor of the regiment seated at her side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I won't interrupt the consultation,&rdquo; said Sewell, &ldquo;but I have just one
+word to say.&rdquo; He leaned over the back of the sofa, and whispered in her
+ear, &ldquo;Your friend Trafford is become an eldest son. He is at the Bilton
+Hotel, Dublin; write and ask him here. Say I have some cock-shooting,&mdash;there
+are harriers in the neighborhood. Are you listening to me, Madam?&rdquo; said
+he, in a harsh hissing voice, for she had half turned away her head, and
+her face had assumed an expression of sickened disgust. She nodded, but
+did not speak. &ldquo;Tell him that I've spoken to Cave&mdash;he'll make his
+leave all right&mdash;that I 'll do my best to make the place pleasant to
+him, and that&mdash;in fact, I needn't toy to teach you to write a sweet
+note. You understand me, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, perfectly,&rdquo; said she, rising; and a livid paleness now spread over
+her face, and even her lips were bloodless.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was too abrupt with my news. I ought to have been more considerate; I
+ought to have known it might overcome you,&rdquo; said he, with a sneering
+bitterness. &ldquo;Doctor, you 'll have to give Mrs. Se well some cordial, some
+restorative,&mdash;that's the name for it. She was overcome by some
+tidings I brought her. Even pleasant news will startle us occasionally. As
+the French comedy has it, <i>La joie fait peur</i>;&rdquo; and with a listless,
+easy air, he sauntered away into another room.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIX. SEWELL VISITS CAVE
+</h2>
+<p>
+Punctual to his appointment, Sewell appeared at breakfast the next morning
+with Colonel Cave. Of all the ill-humor and bad conduct of the night
+before, not a trace now was to be seen. He was easy, courteous, and
+affable. He even made a half-jesting apology for his late display of bad
+temper; attributing it to an attack of coming gout. &ldquo;So long as the
+malady,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is in a state of menace, one's nerves become so
+fine-strung that there is no name for the irritability; but when once a
+good honest seizure has taken place, a man recovers himself, and stands up
+to his suffering manfully and well.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-day, for instance,&rdquo; said he, pointing to a shoe divided by long
+incisions, &ldquo;I have got my enemy fixed, and I let him do his worst.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The breakfast proceeded pleasantly; Cave was in admiration of his guest's
+agreeability; for he talked away, not so much of things as of people. He
+had in a high degree that-man-of-the-world gift of knowing something about
+every one. No name could turn up of which he could not tell you something
+the owner of it had said or done, and these &ldquo;scratch&rdquo; biographies are
+often very amusing, particularly when struck off with the readiness of a
+practised talker.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not, then, merely that Sewell obliterated every memory of the
+evening before, but he made Cave forget the actual object for which he had
+come that morning. Projects, besides, for future pleasure did Sewell throw
+out, like a man who had both the leisure, the means, and the taste for
+enjoyment. There was some capital shooting he had just taken; his
+neighbor, an old squire, had never cared for it, and let him have it &ldquo;for
+a song.&rdquo; They were going to get up hack races, too, in the Park,&mdash;&ldquo;half-a-dozen
+hurdles and a double ditch to tumble over,&rdquo; as he said, &ldquo;will amuse our
+garrison fellows,&mdash;and my wife has some theatrical intentions&mdash;if
+you will condescend to help her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell talked with that blended munificence and shiftiness, which seems a
+specialty with a certain order of men. Nothing was too costly to be done,
+and yet everything must be accomplished with a dexterity that was almost a
+dodge. The men of this gift are great scene-painters. They dash you off a
+view&mdash;be it a wood or a rich interior, a terraced garden or an Alpine
+hut&mdash;in a few loose touches. Ay! and they &ldquo;smudge&rdquo; them out again
+before criticism has had time to deal with them. &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; cried he,
+suddenly, stopping in the full swing of some description of a possible
+regatta, &ldquo;I was half forgetting what brought me here this morning. I am in
+your debt, Cave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He stopped as though his speech needed some rejoinder, and Cave grew very
+red and very uneasy&mdash;tried to say something&mdash;anything&mdash;but
+could not. The fact was, that, like a man who had never in all his life
+adventured on high play or risked a stake that could possibly be of
+importance to him, he felt pretty much the same amount of distress at
+having won as he would have felt at having lost. He well knew that if by
+any mischance he had incurred such a loss as a thousand pounds, it would
+have been a most serious embarrassment&mdash;by what right, then, had he
+won it? Now, although feelings of this sort were about the very last to
+find entrance into Sewell's heart, he well knew that there were men who
+were liable to them, just as there were people who were exposed to plague
+or yellow fever, and other maladies from which he lived remote. It was,
+then, with a sort of selfish delight that he saw Cave's awkward hesitating
+manner, and read the marks of the shame that was overwhelming him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A heavy sum too,&rdquo; said Sewell, jauntily; &ldquo;we went the whole 'pot' on that
+last rubber.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I could forget it&mdash;I mean,&rdquo; muttered Cave, &ldquo;I wish we could
+both forget it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not the least objection to that,&rdquo; said Sewell gayly; &ldquo;only let it
+first be paid.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, but&mdash;what I meant was&mdash;what I wanted to say, or rather,
+what I hoped&mdash;was&mdash;in plain words, Sewell,&rdquo; burst he out, like a
+man to whom desperation gave courage,&mdash;&ldquo;in plain words, I never
+intended to play such stakes as we played last night,&mdash;I never have&mdash;I
+never will again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to give me my revenge?&rdquo; said Sewell, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, not for anything. I don't know what I 'd have done&mdash;I don't know
+what would have become of me&mdash;if I had lost; and I pledge you my
+honor, I think the next worst thing is to have won.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you, by George!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do, upon my sacred word of honor. My first thoughts on waking this
+morning were more wretched than they have been for any day in the last
+twenty years of life, for I was thoroughly ashamed of myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll not find many men afflicted with your malady, Cave; and, at all
+events, it's not contagious.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing about that,&rdquo; said Cave, half irritably; &ldquo;I never was a
+play man, and have little pretension to understand their feelings.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They have n't got any,&rdquo; said Sewell, as he lit his cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps not; so much the worse for them. I can only say, if the misery of
+losing be only proportionate to the shame of winning, I don't envy a
+gambler. Such an example, too, to exhibit to my young officers! It was too
+bad&mdash;too bad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare I don't understand this,&rdquo; said Sewell, carelessly; &ldquo;when I
+commanded a battalion, I never imagined I was obliged to be a model to the
+subs or the junior captains.&rdquo; The tone of banter went, this time, to the
+quick; and Cave flushed a deep crimson, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;I'm not sorry
+that my ideas of my duty are different; though, in the present case, I
+have failed to fulfil it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well, there's nothing to grow angry about,&rdquo; said Sewell, laughing,
+&ldquo;even though you won't give me my revenge. My present business is to book
+up;&rdquo; and, as he spoke, he sat down at the table, and drew a roll of papers
+from his pocket and laid it before him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You distress me greatly by all this, Sewell,&rdquo; said Cave, whose agitation
+now almost overcame him. &ldquo;Cannot we hit upon some way? can't we let it lie
+over? I mean,&mdash;is there no arrangement by which this cursed affair
+can be deferred? You understand me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not in the least. Such things are never deferred without loss of honor to
+the man in default. The stake that a man risks is supposed to be in his
+pocket, otherwise play becomes trade, and accepts all the vicissitudes of
+trade.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the first time I ever heard them contrasted to the disparagement of
+honest industry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I call billiards, tennis, whist, and écarté honest industries, too,
+though I won't call them trades. There, there,&rdquo; said he, laughing at the
+other's look of displeasure, &ldquo;don't be afraid; I am not going to preach
+these doctrines to your young officers, for whose morals you are so much
+concerned. Sit down here, and just listen to me for one moment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave obeyed, but his face showed in every feature how reluctantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see, Cave,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a quiet smile,&mdash;&ldquo;I see you want to
+do me a favor,&mdash;so you shall. I am obliged to own that I am an
+exception to the theory I have just now enunciated. I staked a thousand
+pounds, and I had <i>not</i> the money in my pocket. Wait a moment,&mdash;don't
+interrupt me. I had not the money in gold or bank-notes, but I had it
+here&rdquo;&mdash;and he touched the papers before him&mdash;&ldquo;in a form equally
+solvent, only that it required that he who won the money should be not a
+mere acquaintance, but a friend,&mdash;a friend to whom I could speak with
+freedom and in confidence. This,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is a bond for twelve hundred
+pounds, given by my wife's guardian in satisfaction of a loan once made to
+him; he was a man of large fortune, which he squandered away recklessly,
+leaving but a small estate, which he could neither sell nor alienate. Upon
+this property this is a mortgage. As an old friend of my father-in-law,&mdash;a
+very unworthy one, by the way,&mdash;I could of course not press him for
+the interest, and, as you will see, it has never been paid; and there is
+now a balance of some hundred pounds additional against him. Of this I
+could not speak, for another reason,&mdash;we are not without the hope of
+inheriting something by him, and to allude to this matter would be
+ruinous. Keep this, then. I insist upon it. I declare to you, if you
+refuse, I will sell it to-morrow to the first moneylender I can find, and
+send you my debt in hard cash. I 've been a play-man all my life, but
+never a defaulter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was a tone of proud indignation in the way he spoke that awed Cave
+to silence; for in good truth he was treating of themes of which he knew
+nothing whatever: and of the sort of influences which swayed gamblers, of
+the rules that guided and the conventionalities that bound them, he was
+profoundly ignorant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll not get your money, Cave,&rdquo; resumed Sewell, &ldquo;till this old fellow
+dies; but you will be paid at last,&mdash;of that I can assure you.
+Indeed, if by any turn of luck I was in funds myself, I 'd like to redeem
+it. All I ask is, therefore, that you 'll not dispose of it, but hold it
+over in your own possession till the day&mdash;and I hope it may be an
+early one&mdash;it will be payable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave was in no humor to dispute anything. There was no condition to which
+he would not have acceded, so heartily ashamed and abashed was he by the
+position in which he found himself. What he really would have liked best,
+would have been to refuse the bond altogether, and say, Pay when you like,
+how you like, or, better still, not at all. This of course was not
+possible, and he accepted the terms proposed to him at once.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It shall be all as you wish,&rdquo; said he, hurriedly. &ldquo;I will do everything
+you desire; only let me assure you that I would infinitely rather this
+paper remained in <i>your</i> keeping than in <i>mine</i>. I'm a careless
+fellow about documents,&rdquo; added he, trying to put the matter on the lesser
+ground of a safe custody. &ldquo;Well, well, say no more; you don't wish it, and
+that's enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must be able to say,&rdquo; said Sewell, gravely, &ldquo;that I never lost over
+night what I had not paid the next morning; and I will even ask of you to
+corroborate me so far as this transaction goes. There were several of your
+fellows at my house last night; they saw what we played for, and that I
+was the loser. There will be&mdash;there always is&mdash;plenty of gossip
+about these things, and the first question is, 'Has he-booked up?' I'm
+sure it's not asking more than you are ready to do, to say that I paid my
+debt within twenty-four hours.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly; most willingly. I don't know that any one has a right to
+question me on the matter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never said he had. I only warned you how people will talk, and how
+necessary it is to be prepared to stifle a scandal even before it has
+flared out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It shall be cared for. I'll do exactly as you wish,&rdquo; said Cave, who was
+too much flurried to know what was asked of him, and to what he was
+pledged.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm glad this is off my mind,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a long sigh of relief.
+&ldquo;I lay awake half the night thinking of it; for there are scores of
+fellows who are not of your stamp, and who would be for submitting these
+documents to their lawyer, and asking, Heaven knows, what this affair
+related to. Now I tell you frankly, I 'd have given no explanations. He
+who gave that bond is, as I know, a consummate rascal, and has robbed me&mdash;that
+is, my wife&mdash;out of two-thirds of her fortune; but <i>my</i> hands
+are tied regarding him. I could n't touch him, except he should try to
+take my life,&mdash;a thing, by the way, he is quite capable of. Old
+Dillon, my wife's father, believed him to be the best and truest of men,
+and my wife inherited this belief, even in the face of all the injuries he
+had worked us. She went on saying, 'My father always said, &ldquo;Trust Fossy:
+there's at least one man in the world that will never deceive you.'&rdquo;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was the name you said?&rdquo; asked Cave, quickly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, only a nickname. I don't want to mention his name. I have sealed up
+the bond, with this superscription,&mdash;'Colonel Sewell's bond.' I did
+this believing you would not question me farther; but if you desire to
+read it over, I 'll break the envelope at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; nothing of the kind. Leave it just as it is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that,&rdquo; said Sewell, pursuing his former line of thought, &ldquo;this man not
+alone defrauded me, but he sowed dissension between me and my wife. Her
+faith is shaken in him, I have no doubt, but she 'll not confess it. Like
+a genuine woman, she will persist in asserting the convictions she has
+long ceased to be held by, and quote this stupid letter of her father in
+the face of every fact.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ought not to have got into these things,&rdquo; said Sewell, as he walked
+impatiently down the room. &ldquo;These family bedevilments should be kept from
+one's friends; but the murder is out now, and you can see how I stand&mdash;and
+see besides, that if I am not always able to control my temper, a friend
+might find an excuse for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave gave a kindly nod of assent to this, not wishing, even by a word, to
+increase the painful embarrassment of the scene.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Heigh ho!&rdquo; cried Sewell, throwing himself down in a chair, &ldquo;there's one
+care off my heart, at least! I can remember a time when a night's bad luck
+would n't have cost me five minutes of annoyance; but nowadays I have got
+it so hot and so heavy from fortune, I begin not to know myself.&rdquo; Then,
+with a sudden change of tone, he added: &ldquo;When are you coming out to us
+again? Shall we say Tuesday?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are to be inspected on Tuesday. Trafford writes me that he is coming
+over with General Halkett,&mdash;whom, by the way, he calls a Tartar,&mdash;and
+says, 'If the Sewells are within hail, say a kind word to them on my
+part.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A good sort of fellow, Trafford,&rdquo; said Sewell, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An excellent fellow,&mdash;no better living!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very wide-awake one too,&rdquo; said Sewell, with one eye closed, and a look
+of intense cunning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never thought so. It is, to my notion, to the want of that faculty he
+owes every embarrassment he has ever suffered. He is unsuspecting to a
+fault.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not the way <i>I</i> read him; though, perhaps, I think as well of
+him as <i>you</i> do. I 'd say that for his years he is one of the very
+shrewdest young fellows I ever met.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You astonish me! May I ask if you know him well?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Our acquaintance is not of very old date, but we saw a good deal of each
+other at the Cape. We rode out frequently, dined, played, and conversed
+freely together; and the impression he made upon me was that every sharp
+lesson the world had given him he 'd pay back one day or other with a
+compound interest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope not,&mdash;I fervently hope not!&rdquo; cried Cave. &ldquo;I had rather hear
+to-morrow that he had been duped and cheated out of half his fortune than
+learn he had done one act that savored of the&mdash;the&mdash;&rdquo; He
+stopped, unable to finish, for he could not hit upon the word that might
+be strong enough for his meaning, and yet not imply an offence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say blackleg. Is n't that what you want? There's my wife's pony chaise. I
+'ll get a seat back to the Nest. Goodbye, Cave. If Wednesday is open, give
+it to us, and tell Trafford I'd be glad to see him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave sat down as the door closed after the other, and tried to recall his
+thoughts to something like order. What manner of man was that who had just
+left him? It was evidently a very mixed nature. Was it the good or the
+evil that predominated? Was the unscrupulous tone he displayed the result
+of a spirit of tolerance, or was it the easy indifference of one who
+trusted nothing,&mdash;believed nothing?
+</p>
+<p>
+Was it possible his estimate of Trafford could be correct? and could this
+seemingly generous and open manner cover a nature cold, calculating, and
+treacherous? No, no. <i>That</i> he felt to be totally out of the
+question.
+</p>
+<p>
+He thought long and intently over the matter, but to no end; and as he
+arose to deposit the papers left by Sewell in his writing-desk, he felt as
+unsettled and undecided as when he started on the inquiry.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXX. THE RACES ON THE LAWN
+</h2>
+<p>
+A bright October morning, with a blue sky and a slight, very slight
+feeling of frost in the air, and a gay meeting on foot and horseback on
+the lawn before the Swan's Nest, made as pretty a picture as a painter of
+such scenes could desire. I say of such scenes, because in the <i>tableau
+de genre</i> it is the realistic element that must predominate, and the
+artist's skill is employed in imparting to very commonplace people and
+costumes whatever poetry can be lent them by light and shade, by happy
+groupings, and, more than all these, by the insinuation of some incident
+in which they are the actors,&mdash;a sort of storied interest pervading
+the whole canvas, which gives immense pleasure to those who have little
+taste for the fine arts.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was plenty of color even in the landscape. The mountains had put on
+their autumn suit, and displayed every tint from a pale opal to a deep and
+gorgeous purple, while the river ran on in those circling eddies which
+come to the surface of water under sunshine as naturally as smiles to the
+face of flattered beauty.
+</p>
+<p>
+Colonel Sewell had invited the country-side to witness hack-races in his
+grounds, and the country-side had heartily responded to the invitation.
+There were the county magnates in grand equipages,&mdash;an earl with two
+postilions and outriders, a high sheriff with all his official splendors,
+squires of lower degree in more composite vehicles, and a large array of
+jaunting-cars, through all of which figured the red coats of the
+neighboring garrison, adding to the scene that tint of warmth in color so
+dear to the painter's heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+The wonderful beauty of the spot, combining, as it did, heath-clad
+mountain, and wood, and winding river, with a spreading lake in the
+distance, dotted with picturesque islands, was well seconded by a glorious
+autumnal day,&mdash;one of those days when the very air has something of
+champagne in its exhilarating quality, and gives to every breath of it a
+sense of stimulation.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first three races&mdash;they were on the flat&mdash;had gone off
+admirably. They were well contested, well ridden, and the &ldquo;right horse&rdquo;
+ the winner. All was contentment, therefore, on every side, to which the
+interval of a pleasant moment of conviviality gave hearty assistance, for
+now came the hour of luncheon; and from the &ldquo;swells&rdquo; in the great marquée,
+and the favored intimates in the dining-room, to the assembled unknown in
+the jaunting-cars, merry laughter issued, with clattering of plates and
+popping of corks, and those commingled sounds of banter and jollity which
+mark such gatherings.
+</p>
+<p>
+The great event of the day was, however, yet to come off. It was a hurdle
+race, to which two stiff fences were to be added, in the shape of double
+ditches, to test the hunting powers of the horses. The hurdles were to be
+four feet eight in height, so that the course was by no means a despicable
+one, even to good cross-country riders. To give increased interest to the
+race, Sewell himself was to ride, and no small share of eagerness existed
+amongst the neighboring gentry to see how the new-comer would distinguish
+himself in the saddle,&mdash;some opining he was too long of leg; some,
+that he was too heavy; some, that men of his age&mdash;he was over
+five-and-thirty&mdash;begin to lose nerve; and many going so far as to
+imply &ldquo;that he did not look like riding,&rdquo;&mdash;a judgment whose vagueness
+detracts nothing from its force.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There he goes now, and he sits well down too!&rdquo; cried one, as a group of
+horsemen swept past, one of whom, mounted on a &ldquo;sharp&rdquo; pony, led the way,
+a white macintosh and loose overalls covering him from head to foot. They
+were off to see that the fences were all being properly put up, and in an
+instant were out of sight.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll back Tom Westenra against Sewell for a twenty-pound note,&rdquo; cried
+one, standing up on the seat of his car to proclaim the challenge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll go further,&rdquo; shouted another,&mdash;&ldquo;I 'll do it for fifty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll beat you both,&rdquo; cried out a third,&mdash;&ldquo;I 'll take Tom even
+against the field.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The object of all this enthusiasm was a smart, cleanshaven little fellow,
+with a good blue eye, and a pleasant countenance, who smoked his cigar on
+the seat of a drag near, and nodded a friendly recognition to their
+confidence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If Joe Slater was well of his fall, I 'd rather have him than any one in
+the county,&rdquo; said an old farmer, true to a man of his own class and
+standing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's one can beat them both!&rdquo; shouted another; &ldquo;here's Mr. Creagh of
+Liskmakerry!&rdquo; and a thin, ruddy-faced, keen-eyed man of about fifty rode
+by on a low-sized horse, with that especial look of decision in his mouth,
+and a peculiar puckering about the corners that seem to belong to those
+who traffic in horse-flesh, and who, it would appear, however much they
+may know about horses, understand humanity more thoroughly still.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you going to ride, Creagh?&rdquo; cried a friend from a high tax-cart.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe so, if the fences are not too big for me;&rdquo; and a very malicious
+drollery twinkled in his gray eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix, and if they are,&rdquo; said a farmer, &ldquo;the rest may stay at home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you 'll ride, Creagh,&rdquo; said the first speaker, &ldquo;and not let these
+English fellows take the shine out of us. Yourself and Tom are the only
+county names on the card.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show it to me,&rdquo; said Creagh, listlessly; and he took the printed list in
+his hand and conned it over, as though it had all been new to him. &ldquo;They
+'re all soldiers, I see,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;It's Major This, and Captain That&mdash;Who
+is the lady?&rdquo; This question was rapidly called forth by a horsewoman who
+rode past at an easy canter in the midst of a group of men. She was
+dressed in a light-gray habit and hat of the same color, from which a long
+white feather encircling the hat hung on one side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's Mrs. Sewell,&mdash;what do you think of her riding?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If her husband has as neat a hand, I 'd rather he was out of the course.
+She knows well what she 's about.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They say there's not her equal in the park in London.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's not park riding; that's something very different, take my word for
+it. She could lead half the men here across the country.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nor was she unworthy of the praise, as, with her hand low, her head a
+little forward, but her back well curved in, she sat firmly down in her
+saddle; giving to the action of the horse that amount of movement that
+assisted the animal, but never more. The horse was mettlesome enough to
+require all her attention. It was his first day under a sidesaddle, and he
+chafed at it, and when the heavy skirt smote his flank, bounded with a
+lunge and a stroke of his head that showed anger.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a four-hundred guinea beast she 's on. He belongs to the tall
+young fellow that's riding on her left.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like his own horse better,&mdash;the liver-chestnut with the short
+legs. I wish I had a loan of him for the hurdle-race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ask him, Phil; or get the mistress there to ask him,&rdquo; said another,
+laughing. &ldquo;I 'm mighty mistaken or he wouldn't refuse her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, is that it?&rdquo; said Creagh, with a knowing look.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So they tell me here, for I don't know one of them myself; but the story
+goes that she was to have married that young fellow when Sewell earned her
+off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must go and get a better look at her,&rdquo; said Creagh, as he spurred his
+horse and cantered away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is any one betting?&rdquo; said little Westenra, as he descended from his seat
+on the drag. &ldquo;I have not seen a man to-day with five pounds on the race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's Sewell,&rdquo; muttered another; &ldquo;he's coming up now, and will give or
+take as much as you like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you see Mrs. Sewell, any of you?&rdquo; asked Sewell, cavalierly, as he
+rode up with an open telegram in his hand; and as the persons addressed
+were for the most part his equals, none responded to the insolent demand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Could you tell me, sir,&rdquo; said Sewell, quickly altering his tone, while he
+touched his hat to Westenra, &ldquo;if Mrs. Sewell passed this way?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I haven't the honor to know Mrs. Sewell, but I saw a lady ride past,
+about ten minutes ago, on a black thoroughbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix, and well she rode him too,&rdquo; broke in an old farmer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She took the posy out of that young gentleman's button-hole, while her
+beast was jumping, and stuck it in her breast, as easy as I 'm sitting
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewel's face grew purple as he darted a look of savage anger at the
+speaker, and, turning his horse's head, he dashed out at speed and
+disappeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Peter Delaney,&rdquo; said Westenra, &ldquo;I thought you had more discretion than to
+tell such a story as that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Begorra, Mister Tom! I didn't know the mischief I was making till I saw
+the look he gave me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was not till after a considerable search that Sewell came up with his
+wife's party, who were sauntering leisurely along the river-side, through
+a gorse-covered slope.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've had a devil of a hunt after you!&rdquo; he cried, as he rode up, and the
+ringing tone of his voice was enough to intimate to her in what temper he
+spoke. &ldquo;I 've something to say to you,&rdquo; said he, as though meant for her
+private ear; and the others drew back, and suffered them to ride on
+together. &ldquo;There 's a telegram just come from that old beast the Chief
+Baron; he desires to see me to-night. The last train leaves at five, and I
+shall only hit it by going at once. Can't you keep your horse quiet,
+Madam, or must you show off while I 'm speaking to you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was the furze that stung him,&rdquo; said she, coldly, and not showing the
+slightest resentment at his tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the old bear means anything short of dying, and leaving me his heir,
+this message is a shameful swindle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean to go?&rdquo; asked she, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose so; that is,&rdquo; added he, with a bitter grin, &ldquo;if I can tear
+myself away from <i>you</i>;&rdquo; but she only smiled.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll have to pay a forfeit in this match,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;and my book
+will be all smashed, besides. I say,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;would Trafford ride for
+me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps he would.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None of your mock indifference, Madam. I can't afford to lose a thousand
+pounds every time you have a whim. Ay, look astonished if you like! but if
+you had n't gone into the billiard-room on Saturday evening and spoiled my
+match, I 'd have escaped that infernal whist-table. Listen to me now! Tell
+him that I have been sent for suddenly,&mdash;it might be too great a risk
+for me to refuse to go,&mdash;and ask him to ride Crescy; if he says Yes,&mdash;and
+he will say yes if you ask him as you <i>ought</i>,&rdquo;&mdash;her cheek grew
+crimson as he uttered the last word with a strong emphasis,&mdash;&ldquo;tell
+him to take up my book. Mind you use the words 'take up;' <i>he'll</i>
+understand you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why not say all this yourself?&mdash;he 's riding close behind at
+this minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because I have a wife, Madam, who can do it so much better; because I
+have a wife who plucks a carnation out of a man's coat, and wears it in
+her bosom, and this on an open race-course, where people can talk of it!
+and a woman with such rare tact ought to be of service to her husband,
+eh?&rdquo; She swayed to and fro in her saddle for an instant as though about to
+fall, but she grasped the horn with both hands and saved herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="frontispiece (72K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo; muttered she, faintly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not quite. Tell Trafford to come round to my dressing-room, and I 'll
+give him a hint or two about the horse. He must come at once, for I have
+only time to change my clothes and start. You can make some excuse to the
+people for my absence; say that the old Judge has had another attack, and
+I only wish it may be true. Tell them I got a telegram, and <i>that</i>
+may mean anything. Trafford will help you to do the honors, and I 'll
+swear him in as viceroy before I go. Is n't that all that could be asked
+of me?&rdquo; The insolence of his look as he said this made her turn away her
+head as though sickened and disgusted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They want you at the weighing-stand, Colonel Sewell,&rdquo; said a gentleman,
+riding up.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, they do! Well, say, please, that I 'm coming. Has he given you that
+black horse?&rdquo; asked he, in a hurried whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he offered him, but I refused.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You had no right to refuse; he's strong enough to carry <i>me</i>; and
+the ponies that I saw led round to the stable-yard, whose are they?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are Captain Trafford's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You told him you thought them handsome, I suppose, didn't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I think them very beautiful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, don't take them as a present. Win them if you like at piquet or
+écarté,&mdash;any way you please, but don't take them as a gift, for I
+heard Westenra say they were meant for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She nodded; and as she bent her head, a smile, the very strangest, crossed
+her features. If it were not that the pervading expression of her face was
+at the instant melancholy, the look she gave him would have been almost
+devilish.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have something else to say, but I can't remember it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't know when you'll be back?&rdquo; asked she, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not,&mdash;how can I? I can only promise that I'll not arrive
+unexpectedly, Madam; and I take it that's as much as any gentleman can be
+called on to say. Bye-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-bye,&rdquo; said she, in the same tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see that Mr. Balfour is here. I can't tell who asked him; but mind you
+don't invite him to luncheon; take no notice of him whatever; he'll not
+bet a guinea; never plays; never risks anything,&mdash;even his <i>affections!</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a creature!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Isn't he! There! I'll not detain you from pleasanter company; good-bye;
+see you here when I come back, I suppose?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Most probably,&rdquo; said she, with a smile; and away he rode, at a tearing
+gallop, for his watch warned him that he was driven to the last minute.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My husband has been sent for to town, Captain Traf-ford,&rdquo; said she,
+turning her head towards him as he resumed his place at her side; &ldquo;the
+Chief Baron desires to see him immediately, and he sets off at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And his race? What 's to become of his match?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said I was to ask you to ride for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Me&mdash;I ride! Why, I am two stone heavier than he is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose he knew that,&rdquo; said she, coldly, and as if the matter was one
+of complete indifference to her. &ldquo;I am only delivering a message,&rdquo;
+ continued she, in the same careless tone; &ldquo;he said, 'Ask Captain Trafford
+to ride for me and take up my book; 'I was to be particular about the
+phrase 'take up;' I conclude you will know what meaning to attach to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect I do,&rdquo; said he, with a low soft laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I was to add something about hints he was to give you, if you 'd go
+round to his dressing-room at once; indeed, I believe you have little time
+to spare.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I'll go,&mdash;I 'll go now; only there 's one thing I 'd like to
+ask&mdash;that is&mdash;I'd be very glad to know&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; said she, after a pause, in which his confusion seemed to
+increase with every minute.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, I should like to know whether you wished me to ride this race or
+not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whether <i>I</i> wished it?&rdquo; said she, in a tone of astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, whether you cared about the matter one way or other?&rdquo; replied he,
+in still deeper embarrassment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How could it concern me, my dear Captain Trafford?&rdquo; said she, with an
+easy smile; &ldquo;a race never interests me much, and I 'd just as soon see
+Blue and Orange come in as Yellow and Black; but you 'll be late if you
+intend to see my husband; I think you 'd better make haste.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I will, and I 'll be back immediately,&rdquo; said he, not sorry to escape a
+scene where his confusion was now making him miserable.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You <i>are</i> a very nice horse!&rdquo; said she, patting the animal's neck,
+as he chafed to dash off after the other. &ldquo;I 'd like very much to own you;
+that is, if I ever was to call anything my own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're clearing the course, Mrs. Sewell,&rdquo; said one of her companions,
+riding up; &ldquo;we had better turn off this way, and ride down to the stand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's a go!&rdquo; cried another, coming up at speed. &ldquo;Big Trafford is going
+to ride Crescy; he 's well-nigh fourteen stone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not thirteen: I 'll lay a tenner on it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He can ride a bit,&rdquo; said a third.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd rather he 'd ride his own horse than mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sewell knows what he 's about, depend on 't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's his wife,&rdquo; whispered another; &ldquo;I'm certain she heard you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Sewell turned her head as she cantered along, and, in the strange
+smile her features wore, seemed to confirm the speaker's words; but the
+hurry and bustle of the moment drowned all sense of embarrassment, and the
+group dashed onward to the stand.
+</p>
+<p>
+Leaving that heaving, panting, surging tide of humanity for an instant,
+let us turn to the house, where Sewell was already engaged in preparing
+for the road.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are going to ride for me, Trafford?&rdquo; said Sewell, as the other
+entered his dressing-room, where, with the aid of his servant, he was
+busily packing up for the road.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not sure; that is, I don't like to refuse, and I don't see how to
+accept.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My wife has told you; I 'm sent for hurriedly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said he, looking round at him from his task.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as I have told you already; I 'd ride for you as well as a heavy
+fellow could take a light-weight's place, but I don't understand about
+your book&mdash;am I to stand your engagements?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean, are you to win all the money I'm sure to pocket on the match?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I don't mean that,&rdquo; said he, laughing; &ldquo;I never thought of trading on
+another man's brains; I simply meant, am I to be responsible for the
+losses?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you ride Crescy as you ought to ride him, you needn't fret about the
+losses?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But suppose that I do not&mdash;and the case is a very possible one&mdash;that,
+not knowing your horse&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take this portmanteau down, Bob, and the carpet-bag; I shall only lose my
+train,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a gesture of hot impatience; and as the servant
+left the room, he added: &ldquo;Pray don't think any more about this stupid
+race; scratch Crescy, and tell my wife that it was a change of mind on
+&ldquo;my&rdquo; part,&mdash;that I did not wish you to ride; good-bye;&rdquo; and he waved
+a hasty adieu with his hand, as though to dismiss him at once.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you 'll let me ride for you, I 'll do my best,&rdquo; blundered out
+Trafford; &ldquo;when I spoke of your engagements, it was only to prepare you
+for what perhaps you were not aware of, that I 'm not very well off just
+now, and that if anything like a heavy sum&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a most cautious fellow; I only wonder how you ever did get into a
+difficulty; but I 'm not the man to lead you astray, and wreck such
+splendid principles; adieu!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll ride, let it end how it may!&rdquo; said Trafiford, angrily, and left the
+room at once, and hurried downstairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell gave a parting look at himself in the glass; and as he set his hat
+jauntily on one side, said, &ldquo;There 's nothing like a little mock
+indignation to bully fellows of <i>his</i> stamp; the keynote of their
+natures is the dread of being thought mean, and particularly of being
+thought mean by a woman.&rdquo; He laughed pleasantly at this conceit, and went
+on his way.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXI. SEWELL ARRIVES IN DUBLIN
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was late at night when Sewell reached town. An accidental delay to the
+train deferred the arrival for upwards of an hour after the usual time;
+and when he reached the Priory, the house was all closed for the night,
+and not a light to be seen.
+</p>
+<p>
+He knocked, however, and rang boldly; and after a brief delay, and
+considerable noise of unbolting and unbarring, was admitted. &ldquo;We gave you
+up, sir, after twelve o'clock,&rdquo; said the butler, half reproachfully, &ldquo;and
+his Lordship ordered the servants to bed. Miss Lendrick, however, is in
+her drawing-room still.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is there anything to eat, my good friend? That is what I stand most in
+need of just now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's a cold rib of beef, sir, and a grouse pie; but if you 'd like
+something hot, I 'll call the cook.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, never mind the cook; you can give me some sherry, I 'm sure?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Any wine you please, sir. We have excellent Madeira, which ain't to be
+had everywhere nowadays.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madeira be it, then; and order a fire in my room. I take it you have a
+room for me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, all is ready; the bath was hot about an hour ago, and I 'll
+have it refreshed in a minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now for the grouse pie. By the way, Fenton, what is the matter with his
+Lordship? He was n't ill, was he, when he sent off that despatch to me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; he was in court to-day, and he dined at the Castle, and was in
+excellent spirits before he went out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has anything gone wrong, then, that he wanted me up so hurriedly?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, it ain't so easy to say, his Lordship excites himself so
+readily; and mayhap he had words with some of the judges,&mdash;mayhap
+with his Excellency, for they 're always at him about resigning, little
+knowing that if they 'd only let him alone he 'd go of himself, but if
+they press him he 'll stay on these twenty years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't suspect he has got so many as twenty years before him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If he wants to live, sir, he 'll do it. Ah, you may laugh, sir, but I
+have known him all my life, and I never saw the man like him to do the
+thing he wishes to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cut me some of that beef, Fenton, and fetch me some draught beer. How
+these old tyrants make slaves of their servants,&rdquo; said he, aloud, as the
+man left the room,&mdash;&ldquo;a slavery that enthralls mind as well as body.&rdquo;
+ A gentle tap came to the door, and before Sewell could question the
+summons, Miss Lendrick entered. She greeted him cordially, and said how
+anxiously her grandfather had waited for him till midnight. &ldquo;I don't know
+when I saw him so eager or so impatient,&rdquo; she said.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you any clew to his reason for sending for me?&rdquo; said he, as he
+continued to eat, and assumed an air of perfect unconcern.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None whatever. He came into my room about two o'clock, and told me to
+write his message in a good bold hand; he seemed in his usual health, and
+his manner displayed nothing extraordinary. He questioned me about the
+time it would take to transmit the message from the town to your house,
+and seemed satisfied when I said about half an hour.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's just as likely, perhaps, to be some caprice,&mdash;some passing
+fancy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shook her head dissentingly, but made no reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the theory of this house is, 'he can do no wrong,'&rdquo; said
+Sewell, with a laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is so much more able in mind than all around him, such a theory might
+prevail; but I 'll not go so far as to say that it does.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not his mind gives him his pre-eminence, Miss Lucy,&mdash;it's his
+temper; it's that same strong will that overcomes weaker natures by dint
+of sheer force. The people who assert their own way in life are not the
+most intellectual, they are only the best bullies.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know very little of grandpapa, Colonel Sewell, that's clear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you so sure of that?&rdquo; asked he, with a dubious-smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I <i>am</i> sure of it, or in speaking of him you would never have used
+such a word as bully.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mistake me,&mdash;mistake me altogether, young lady. I spoke of a
+class of people who employ certain defects of temper to supply the place
+of certain gifts of intellect; and if your grandfather, who has no
+occasion for it, chooses to take a weapon out of their armory, the worse
+taste his.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy turned fiercely round, her face flushed, and her lip trembling. An
+angry reply darted through her mind, but she repressed it by a great
+effort, and in a faint voice she said, &ldquo;I hope you left Mrs. Sewell well?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, perfectly well, amusing herself vastly. When I saw her last, she had
+about half a dozen young fellows cantering on either side of her, saying,
+doubtless, all those pleasant things that you ladies like to hear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy shrugged her shoulders, without answering.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Telling you,&rdquo; continued he, in the same strain, &ldquo;that if you are
+unmarried you are angels, and that if married you are angels and martyrs
+too; and it is really a subject that requires investigation, how the best
+of wives is not averse to hearing her husband does not half estimate her.
+Don't toss your head so impatiently, my dear Miss Lucy; I am giving you
+the wise precepts of a very thoughtful life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had hoped, Colonel Sewell, that a very thoughtful life might have
+brought forth pleasanter reflections.&rdquo; &ldquo;No, that is precisely what it does
+not do. To live as long as I have, is to arrive at a point when all the
+shams have been seen through, and the world exhibits itself pretty much as
+a stage during a day rehearsal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, I am too young to profit by such experiences, and I will wish
+you a very good-night,&mdash;that is, if I can give no orders for anything
+you wish.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have had everything. I will finish this Madeira&mdash;to your health&mdash;and
+hope to meet you in the morning, as beautiful and as trustful as I see you
+now,&mdash;<i>felice notte</i>.&rdquo; He bowed as he opened the door for her to
+pass out, and she went, with a slight bend of the head and a faint smile,
+and left him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I could make you beat your wings against your cage, for all your
+bravery, if I had only three days here, and cared to do it,&rdquo; said he, as
+he poured the rest of the wine into his glass. &ldquo;How weary I could make you
+of this old house and its old owner. Within one month&mdash;one short
+month&mdash;I 'd have you repeating as wise saws every sneer and every
+sarcasm that you just now took fire at. And if I am to pass three days in
+this dreary old dungeon, I don't see how I could do better. What can he
+possibly want with me?&rdquo; All the imaginable contingencies he could conjure
+up now passed before his mind. That the old man was sick of solitude, and
+wanted him to come and live with them; that he was desirous of adopting
+one of the children, and which of them? then, that he had held some
+correspondence with Fossbrooke, and wanted some explanations,&mdash;a
+bitter pang, that racked and tortured him while he revolved it; and, last
+of all, he came back to his first guess,&mdash;it was about his will he
+had sent for him. He had been struck by the beauty of the children, and
+asked their names and ages twice or thrice over; doubtless he was bent on
+making some provision for them. &ldquo;I wish I could tell him that I'd rather
+have ten thousand down, than thrice the sum settled on Reginald and the
+girls. I wish I could explain to him that mine is a ready-money business,
+and that cash is the secret of success; and I wish I could show him that
+no profits will stand the reverses of loans raised at two hundred per
+cent! I wonder how the match went off to-day; I'd like to have the odds
+that there were three men down at the double rail and bank.&rdquo; Who got first
+over the brook, was his next speculation, and where was Trafford? &ldquo;If he
+punished Crescy, I think I could tell <i>that</i>,&rdquo; muttered he, with a
+grin of malice. &ldquo;I only wish I was there to see it;&rdquo; and in the delight
+this thought afforded he tossed off his last glass of wine, and rang for
+his bedroom candle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At what time shall I call you, sir?&rdquo; asked the butler.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When are you stirring here,&mdash;I mean, at what hour does Sir William
+breakfast?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He breakfasts at eight, sir, during term; but he does not expect to see
+any one but Miss Lucy so early.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think not. Call me at eleven, then, and bring me some coffee and
+a glass of rum when you come. Do you mean to tell me,&rdquo; said he, in a
+somewhat stern tone, &ldquo;that the Chief Baron gets up at seven o'clock?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In term-time, sir, he does every day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad! I 'm well pleased that I have not a seat on the Bench. I 'd not be
+Lord Chancellor at that price.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It 's very hard on the servants, sir,&mdash;very hard indeed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose it is,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a treacherous twinkle of the eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it was n't that I'm expecting the usher's place in the Court, I 'd
+have resigned long ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Lordship's pleasant temper, however, makes up for everything, Fenton,
+eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, that's true;&rdquo; and they both laughed heartily at the pleasant
+conceit; and in this merry humor they went their several ways to bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXII. MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+</h2>
+<p>
+Sewell was awoke from a sound and heavy sleep by the Chief Baron's valet
+asking if it was his pleasure to see his Lordship before he went down to
+Court, in which case there was not much time to be lost.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How soon does he go?&rdquo; asked Sewell, curtly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He likes to be on the Bench by eleven exactly, sir, and he has always
+some business in Chamber first.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All that tells me nothing, my good friend. How much time have I now to
+catch him in before he starts?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Half an hour, sir. Forty minutes, at most.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I 'll try and do it. Say I 'm in my bath, and that I 'll be with
+him immediately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The man was not well out of the room when Sewell burst out into a torrent
+of abuse of the old Judge and his ways: &ldquo;His inordinate vanity, his
+consummate conceit, to imagine that any activity of an old worn-out
+intellect like his could be of service to the public! If he knew but all,
+he is just as useful in his nightcap as in his wig, and it would be fully
+as dignified to sleep in his bed as in the Court of Exchequer.&rdquo; While he
+poured forth this invective, he dressed himself with all possible haste;
+indeed his ill-temper stimulated his alacrity, and he very soon issued
+from his room, trying to compose his features into a semblance of pleasure
+on meeting with his host.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope and trust I have not disturbed you unreasonably,&rdquo; said the Judge,
+rising from the breakfast-table, as Sewell entered. &ldquo;I know you arrived
+very late, and I 'd have given you a longer sleep if it were in my power.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An old soldier, my Lord, knows how to manage with very little. I am only
+sorry if I have kept you waiting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No man ever presumed to keep me waiting, sir. It is a slight I have yet
+to experience.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, my Lord, it would have grieved me much had I occasioned you an
+inconvenience.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you had, sir, it might have reacted injuriously upon yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell bowed submissively, for what he knew not; but he surmised that as
+there was an opening for regret, there might also be a reason for
+gratitude; he waited to see if he were right.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My telegram only told you that I wanted you; it could not say for what,&rdquo;
+ continued the Judge; and his voice still retained the metallic ring the
+late irritation had lent it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There has been a contested question between the Crown and myself as to
+the patronage to an office in my Court. I have carried my point. They have
+yielded. They would have me believe that they have submitted out of
+deference to myself personally, my age, and long services. I know better,
+sir. They have taken the opinion of the Solicitor-General in England, who,
+with no flattering opinion of what is called 'Irish law,' has pronounced
+against them. The gift of the office rests with me, and it is my intention
+to confer it upon <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my Lord, I have no words to express my gratitude!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, sir, it shall be assumed to have been expressed. The salary is
+one thousand a year. The duties are almost nominal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was going to ask, my Lord, whether my education and habits are such as
+would enable me to discharge these duties?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I respect your conscientious scruple, sir. It is creditable and
+commendable. Your mind may, however, be at ease. Your immediate
+predecessor passed the last thirteen years at Tours, in France, and there
+was never a complaint of official irregularity till, three years ago, when
+he came over to afford his substitute a brief leave of absence, he forgot
+to sign his name to certain documents,&mdash;a mistake the less pardonable
+that his signature formed his whole and sole official drudgery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was on Sewell's lips to say, &ldquo;that if <i>he</i> had not signed his name
+a little too frequently in life, his difficulties would not have been such
+as they now were.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am afraid I did not catch what you said, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not speak, my Lord,&rdquo; replied he, bowing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will see, therefore, sir, that the details of your official life need
+not deter you, although I have little doubt the Ministerial press will
+comment sharply upon your absence, if you give them the opportunity, and
+will reflect severely upon your unfitness, if they can detect a flaw in
+you. Is there anything, therefore, in your former life to which these
+writers can refer&mdash;I will not say disparagingly&mdash;but
+unpleasantly?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not aware, my Lord, of anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, sir, I could not mean what might impugn your honor or affect
+your fame. I spoke simply of what soldiers are, perhaps, more exposed to
+than civilians,&mdash;the lighter scandals of society. You apprehend me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do, my Lord; and, I repeat that I have a very easy conscience on this
+score: for though I have filled some rather responsible stations at times,
+and been intrusted with high functions, all my tastes and habits have been
+so domestic and quiet&mdash;I have been so much more a man of home than a
+man of pleasure&mdash;that I have escaped even the common passing
+criticisms bestowed on people who are before the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this man&mdash;this Sir Brook Fossbrooke&mdash;one likely to occasion
+you any trouble?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In the first place, my Lord, he is out of the country, not very likely to
+return to it; and secondly, it is not in his power&mdash;not in any man 's
+power&mdash;to make me a subject for attack.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are fortunate, sir; more fortunate than men who have served their
+country longer. It will scarcely be denied that I have contributed to the
+public service, and yet, sir, <i>I</i> have been arraigned before the bar
+of that insensate jury they call Public Opinion, and it is only in denying
+the jurisdiction I have deferred the award.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell responded to the vainglorious outburst by a look of admiring
+wonder, and the Judge smiled a gracious acceptance of the tribute. &ldquo;I
+gather, therefore, sir, that you can accept this place without fear of
+what scandal or malignity may assail you by&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord, I can say as much with confidence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is necessary, sir, that I should be satisfied on this-head. The very
+essence of the struggle between the Crown and myself is in the fact that
+<i>my</i> responsibility is pledged, <i>my</i> reputation is in bond for
+the integrity and the efficiency of this officer, and I will not leave to
+some future biographer of the Irish Chief Barons of the Exchequer the task
+of apology for one who was certainly not the least eminent of the line.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Lordship's high character shall not suffer through me,&rdquo; said Sewell,
+bowing respectfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The matter, then, is so far settled; perhaps, however, you would like to
+consult your wife? She might be averse to your leaving the army.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lord. She wishes&mdash;she has long wished it. We are both
+domestic in our tastes, and we have always-been looking to the time when
+we could live more for each other, and devote ourselves to the education
+of our children.&rdquo;'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Commendable and praiseworthy,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a half grunt, as
+though he had heard something of this-same domesticity and home-happiness,
+but that his own experiences scarcely corroborated the report. &ldquo;There
+are-certain steps you will have to take before leaving the service; it
+may, then, be better to defer your public nomination to this post till
+they be taken?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This, which was said in question, Sewell answered at once, saying, &ldquo;There
+need be no delay on this score, my Lord; by this day week I shall be
+free.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On this day week, then, you shall be duly sworn in. Now, there is another
+point&mdash;I throw it out simply as a suggestion&mdash;you will not
+receive it as more if you are indisposed to it. It may be some time before
+you can find a suitable house or be fully satisfied where to settle down.
+There is ample room here; one entire wing is unoccupied. May I beg to
+place it at your disposal?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my Lord, this is really too much kindness. You overwhelm me with
+obligations. I have never heard of such generosity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, it is not all generosity,&mdash;I reckon much on the value of your
+society. Your companionable qualities are gifts I would secure by a
+'retainer.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In your society, my Lord, the benefits would be all on my side.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was a time, sir,&mdash;I may say it without boastful-ness,&mdash;men
+thought me an agreeable companion. The three Chiefs, as we were called
+from our separate Courts, were reputed to be able talkers. I am the sole
+survivor; and it would be a gain to those who care to look back on the
+really great days of Ireland, if some record should remain of a time when
+there were giants in the land. I have myself some very curious materials&mdash;masses
+of letters and such-like&mdash;which we may turn over some winter's
+evening together.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell professed his delight at such a prospect; and the Judge then,
+suddenly bethinking himself of the hour,&mdash;it was already nigh eleven,&mdash;arose.
+&ldquo;Can I set you down anywhere? Are you for town?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord; I was about to pay my mother a visit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll drop you there; perhaps you would convey a message from me, and say
+how grateful I should feel if she would give us her company at dinner,&mdash;say
+seven o'clock. I will just step up to say good-bye to my granddaughter,
+and be with you immediately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell had not time to bethink him of all the strange events which a few
+minutes had grouped around him, when the Chief Baron appeared, and they
+set out.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they drove along, their converse was most agreeable. Sewell's attentive
+manner was an admirable stimulant, and the old Judge was actually sorry to
+lose his companion, as the carriage stopped at Lady Lendrick's door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What on earth brought you up, Dudley?&rdquo; said she, as he entered the room
+where she sat at breakfast.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me have something to eat, and I 'll tell you,&rdquo; said he, seating
+himself at table, and drawing towards him a dish of cutlets. &ldquo;You may
+imagine what an appetite I have when I tell you whose guest I am.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whose?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your husband's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You! at the Priory! and how came that to pass?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told you already I must eat before I talk. When I got downstairs this
+morning, I found the old man just finishing his breakfast, and instead of
+asking me to join him, he entertained me with the siege of Derry, and some
+choice anecdotes of Lord Bristol and 'the Volunteers.' This coffee is
+cold.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ring, and they 'll bring you some.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I am to take him as a type of Irish hospitality as well as Irish
+agreeability, I must say I get rid of two delusions together.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's the coffee. Will you have eggs?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, and a rasher along with them. You can afford to be liberal with the
+larder, mother, for I bring you an invitation to dine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At the Priory?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he said seven o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who dines there?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Himself and his granddaughter and I make the company, I believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I shall not go. I never do go when there 's not a party.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's safer, I suppose, before people?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so. I could not trust to his temper under the temptation of a family
+circle. But what Drought you to town?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He sent for me by telegraph; just, too, when I had the whole county with
+me, and was booked to ride a match I had made with immense trouble. I got
+his message,&mdash;'Come up immediately.' There was not the slightest
+reason for haste, nor for the telegraph at all. The whole could have been
+done by letter, and replied to at leisure, besides&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was it, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a place he has given me,&mdash;a Registrarship of something in his
+Court, that he has been fighting the Castle people about for eighteen
+years, and to which Heaven knows if he has the right of appointment this
+minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What'sit worth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand a year net. There were pickings,&mdash;at least, the last man
+made a good thing of them,&mdash;but there are to be no more. We are to
+inaugurate, as the newspapers say, a reign of integrity and
+incorruptibility.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much the better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much the worse,&rdquo; say I. &ldquo;My motto is, Full batta and plenty of loot;
+and it's every man's motto, only that every man is not honest enough to
+own it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And when are you to enter upon the duties of your office?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Immediately. I 'm to be sworn in&mdash;there's an oath, it seems&mdash;this
+day week, and we 're to take up our abode at the Priory till we find a
+house to suit us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At the Priory?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. May I light a cigarette, mother: only one? He gave the invitation
+most royally. A whole wing is to be at our disposal. He said nothing about
+the cook or the wine-cellar, and these are the very ingredients I want to
+secure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shook her head dubiously, but made no answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't think, then, that he meant to have us as his guests?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think it unlikely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How shall I find out? It's quite certain I 'll not go live under his roof&mdash;which
+means his surveillance&mdash;without an adequate compensation. I 'll only
+consent to being bored by being fed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;House-rent is something, however.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, mother, but not everything. That old man would be inquiring who
+dined with me, how late he stayed, who came to supper, and what they did
+afterwards. Now, if he take the whole charge of us, I 'll put up with a
+great deal, because I could manage a little '<i>pied à terre</i>'
+somewhere about Kingstown or Dalkey, and 'carry on' pleasantly enough. You
+must find out his intentions, mother, before I commit myself to an
+acceptance. You must, indeed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take my advice, Dudley, and look out for a house at once. You 'll not be
+in <i>his</i> three weeks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can submit to a great deal when it suits me, mother,&rdquo; said he, with a
+derisive smile, and a look of intense treachery at the same time.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you can,&rdquo; said she, nodding in assent. &ldquo;How is she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As usual,&rdquo; said he, with a shrug of the shoulders.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the children?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are quite well. By the way, before I forget it, don't let the Judge
+know that I have already sent in my papers to sell out. I want him to
+believe that I do so now in consequence of his offer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is not likely we shall soon meet, and I may not have an opportunity of
+mentioning the matter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll come to dinner to-day, won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought, even out of gratitude on <i>my</i> account. It would be only
+commonly decent to thank him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could n't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn't what? Couldn't come, or couldn't thank him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Could n't do either. You don't know, Dudley, that whenever our
+intercourse rises above the common passing courtesies of mere
+acquaintanceship, it is certain to end in a quarrel. We must never condemn
+or approve. We must never venture upon an opinion, lest it lead to a
+discussion, for discussion means a fight.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pleasant, certainly,&mdash;pleasant and amiable too!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be better, perhaps, that I had some of that happy disposition of
+my son,&rdquo; said she, with a cutting tone, &ldquo;and could submit to whatever
+suited me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He started as if he had seen something, and turning on her a look of
+passionate anger, began: &ldquo;Is it from <i>you</i> that this should come?&rdquo;
+ Then suddenly recollecting himself, he subdued his tone, and said: &ldquo;We 'll
+not do better by losing our tempers. Can you put me in the way to raise a
+little money? I shall have the payment for my commission in about a
+fortnight; but I want a couple of hundred pounds at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not two months since you raised five hundred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it, and there 's the last of it. I left Lucy ten sovereigns when I
+came away, and this twenty pounds is all that I now have in the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all these fine dinners and grand entertainments that I have been told
+of,&mdash;what was the meaning of them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They were what the railway people call 'preliminary expenses,' mother.
+Before one can get fellows to come to a house where there is play, there
+must be a sort of easy style of good living established that all men like:
+excellent dinners and good wine are the tame elephants, and without them
+you 'll not get the wild ones into your 'compounds.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And to tell me that this could pay!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, and pay splendidly. If I had three thousand pounds in the world to
+carry on with, I 'd see the old Judge and his rotten place at Jericho
+before I 'd accept it. One needs a little capital, that's all. It's just
+like blockade-running,&mdash;you must be able to lose three for one you
+succeed with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see nothing but ruin&mdash;disreputable ruin&mdash;in such a course.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come down and look at it, mother, and you 'll change your mind. You 'll
+own you never saw a better ordered society in your life,&mdash;the <i>beau
+idéal</i> of a nice country-house on a small scale. I admit our <i>chef</i>
+is not a Frenchman, and I have only one fellow out of livery; but the
+thing is well done, I promise you. As for any serious play, you 'll never
+hear of it&mdash;never suspect it&mdash;no more than a man turning over
+Leech's sketches in a dentist's drawing-room suspects there's a fellow
+getting his eye-tooth extracted in the next room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I disapprove of it all, Dudley. It is sure to end ill.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For that matter, mother, so shall I! All I have asked from Fate this many
+a year is a deferred sentence; a long day, my Lord,&mdash;a long day!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell Sir William I am sorry I can't dine at the Priory to-day. It is one
+of my cruel headache-days. Say you found me looking very poorly. It puts
+him in good-humor to hear it; and if you can get away in the evening, come
+in to tea.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will think of this loan I want,&mdash;won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll think of it, but I don't know what good thinking will do.&rdquo; She
+paused, and after a few minutes' silence, said, &ldquo;If you really are serious
+about taking up your abode at the Priory, you 'll have to get rid of the
+granddaughter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We could marry her off easily enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You might, and you mightn't. If she marry to Sir William's satisfaction,
+he'll leave her all he has in the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad, he must have a rare taste in a son-in-law if he likes the fellow I
+'ll promote to the place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You seem to forget, Dudley, that the young lady has a will of her own.
+She's a Lendrick too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With all my heart, mother. She 'll not be a match for Lucy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And would <i>she</i>&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, would she,&rdquo; interrupted he, &ldquo;if her pride as a woman&mdash;if her
+jealousy was touched. I have made her do more than that when I wounded her
+self-love!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a very amiable husband, I must say.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We might be better, perhaps, mother; but I suspect we are pretty much
+like our neighbors. And it's positive you won't come to dinner?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No! certainly not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I 'll try and look in at tea-time. You 'll not forget what I spoke
+of. I shall be in funds in less than three weeks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She gave a little incredulous laugh as she said &ldquo;Goodbye!&rdquo; She had heard
+of such pledges before, and knew well what faith to attach to them.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIII. EVENING AT THE PRIORY
+</h2>
+<p>
+The Chief Baron brought his friend Haire back from Court to dine with him.
+The table had been laid for five, and it was only when Sewell entered the
+drawing-room that it was known Lady Lendrick had declined the invitation.
+Sir William heard the apology to the end; he even waited when Sewell
+concluded, to see if he desired to add anything more, but nothing came.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that case,&rdquo; said he, at length, &ldquo;we 'll order dinner.&rdquo; That his
+irritation was extreme needed no close observation to detect, and the
+bell-rope came down with the pull by which he summoned the servant.
+</p>
+<p>
+The dinner proceeded drearily enough. None liked to adventure on a remark
+which might lead to something unpleasant in discussion, and little was
+spoken on any side. Sewell praised the mutton, and the Chief Baron bowed
+stiffly. When Haire remarked that the pale sherry was excellent, he dryly
+told the butler to &ldquo;fill Mr. Haire's glass;&rdquo; and though Lucy, with more
+caution, was silent, she did not escape, for he turned towards her and
+said, &ldquo;We have not been favored with a word from your lips, Miss Lendrick;
+I hope these neuralgic headaches are not becoming a family affection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am perfectly well, sir,&rdquo; said she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is Haire's fault, then,&rdquo; said the Judge, with one of his malicious
+twinkles of the eye,&mdash;&ldquo;all Haire's fault if we are dull. It is ever
+so with wits, Colonel Sewell; they will not perform to empty benches.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know whom you call a wit,&rdquo; began Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear friend, the men of pleasantry and happy conceits must no more
+deny the reputation that attaches to them than must a rich merchant
+dishonor his bill; nor need a man resent more being called a Wit, than
+being styled a Poet, a Painter, a Chief Baron, or&rdquo;&mdash;here he waved his
+hand towards Sewell, and bowing slightly, added&mdash;&ldquo;a Chief Registrar
+to the Court of Exchequer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, have you got the appointment?&rdquo; said Haire to the Colonel. &ldquo;I am
+heartily glad of it. I 'm delighted to know it has been given to one of
+the family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I said awhile ago,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a smile of deeper malice,
+&ldquo;these witty fellows spare nobody! At the very moment he praises the
+sherry he disparages the host. Why should not this place be filled by one
+of my family, Haire? I call upon you to show cause.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's no reason against it. I never said there was. Nay, I was far from
+satisfied with you on the day you refused my prayer on behalf of one
+belonging to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, you are travelling out of the record,&rdquo; said the Judge, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can only say,&rdquo; added Haire, &ldquo;that I wish Colonel Sewell joy with all my
+heart; and if he 'll allow me, I 'll do it in a bumper.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'A reason fair to drink his health again!' That 's not the line. How does
+it go, Lucy? Don't you remember the verse?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; I never heard it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'A reason fair,&mdash;a reason fair.' I declare I believe the newspapers
+are right. I am losing my memory. One of the scurrilous rascals t'other
+day said they saw no reason Justice should be deaf as well as blind.
+Haire, was that yours?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand a year,&rdquo; muttered Haire to Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is that, Haire?&rdquo; cried the old Judge. &ldquo;Do I hear you aright? You
+utter one thousand things just as good every year?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was speaking of the Registrar's salary,&rdquo; said Haire, half testily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand a year is a pittance,&mdash;a mere pittance, sir, in a country
+like England. It is like the place at a window to see a procession. You
+may gaze on the passing tide of humanity, but must not dare to mix in it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet papa went half across the globe for it,&rdquo; said Lucy, with a
+flushed and burning cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In your father's profession the rewards are less money, Lucy, than the
+esteem and regard of society. I have ever thought it wise of our rulers
+not to bestow titles on physicians, but to leave them the unobtrusive and
+undistinguished comforters of every class and condition. The equal of any,&mdash;the
+companion of all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was evident that the old Judge was eager for discussion on anything. He
+had tried in vain to provoke each of his guests, and he was almost
+irritable at the deference accorded him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do I see you pass the decanter, Colonel Sewell? Are you not drinking any
+wine?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lord.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you like coffee? Don't you think, Lucy, you could give him some?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir. I shall be delighted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well. Haire and I will finish this magnum, and then join you in the
+drawing-room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy took Sewells arm and retired. They were scarcely well out of the room
+when Sewell halted suddenly, and in a voice so artificial that, if Lucy
+had been given to suspectfulness, she would have detected at once, said,
+&ldquo;Is the Judge always as pleasant and as witty as we saw him today?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-day he was very far from himself; something, I 'm sure, must have
+irritated him, for he was not in his usual mood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess I thought him charming; so full of neat reply, pleasant
+apropos, and happy quotation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He very often has days of all that you have just said, and I am delighted
+with them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What an immense gain to a young girl&mdash;of course, I mean one whose
+education and tastes have fitted her for it&mdash;to be the companion of
+such a mind as his! Who is this Mr. Haire?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very old friend. I believe he was a schoolfellow of grandpapa's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not his equal, I suspect, in ability or knowledge.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, nothing like it; a most worthy man, respected by every one, and
+devotedly attached to grandpapa, but not clever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Chief, I remarked, called him witty,&rdquo; said Sewell with a faint
+twinkle in his eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was done in jest. He is fond of fathering on him the smart sayings of
+the day, and watching his attempts to disown them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Haire likes that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe he likes grandpapa in every mood he has.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What an invaluable friend! I wish to Heaven he could find such another
+for me. I want&mdash;there 's nothing I want more than some one who would
+always approve of me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you might push this fidelity further than grandpapa does,&rdquo; said
+she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean that it might not always be so easy to applaud <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She only laughed, and made no effort to disclaim the assertion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said he, with a sigh, &ldquo;who knows but if I live to be old and rich
+I may be fortunate enough to have such an accommodating friend? Who are
+the other 'intimates' here? I ask because we are going to be domesticated
+also.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard so this morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope with pleasure, though you have n't said as much.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With pleasure, certainly; but with more misgiving than pleasure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pray explain this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply that the very quiet life we lead here would not be endurable by
+people who like the world, and whom the world likes. We never see any one,
+we never go out, we-have not even those second-hand glances at society
+that people have who admit gossiping acquaintances; in fact, regard what
+you have witnessed to-day as a dinner-party, and then fashion for yourself
+our ordinary life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do <i>you</i> like it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing else, and I am tolerably happy. If papa and Tom were here,
+I should be perfectly happy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! you startle me,&rdquo; said he, throwing away the unlighted cigar he
+had held for some minutes in his fingers; &ldquo;I did n't know it was so bad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is possible he may relax for you and Mrs. Sewell; indeed, I think it
+more than likely that he will.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but the relaxation might only be in favor of a few more like that old
+gent we had to-day. No, no; the thing will never work. I see it at once.
+My mother said we could not possibly stand it three weeks, and I perceive
+it is your opinion too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not say so much,&rdquo; said she, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Joking apart,&rdquo; said he, in a tone that assuredly bespoke sincerity, &ldquo;I
+could n't stand such a dinner as we had to-day very often. I can bear
+being bullied, for I was brought up to it. I served on Rolffe's staff in
+Bombay for four years, and when a man has been an aide-de-camp he knows
+what being bullied means; but what I could not endure is that outpouring
+of conceit mingled with rotten recollections. Another evening of it would
+kill me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I certainly would not advise your coming here at that price,&rdquo; said she,
+with a gravity almost comical.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The difficulty is how to get off. He appears to me to resent as an
+affront everything that differs from his own views.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is not accustomed to much contradiction.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to any at all!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The energy with which he said this made her laugh heartily, and he half
+smiled at the situation himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are coming upstairs,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;will you ring for tea?&mdash;the
+bell is beside you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, if they 're coming I 'm off. I promised my mother a short visit this
+evening. Make my excuses if I am asked for;&rdquo; and with this he slipped from
+the room and went his way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where's the Colonel, Lucy? Has he gone to bed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, he has gone to see his mother; he had made some engagement to
+visit her this evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This new school of politeness is too liberal for my taste. When we were
+young men, Haire, we would not have ventured to leave the house where we
+had dined without saluting the host.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I take it we must keep up with the spirit of our time.&rdquo; &ldquo;You mistake,
+Haire,&mdash;it is the spirit of our time is in arrear. It is that same
+spirit lagging behind, and deserting the post it once occupied, makes us
+seem in default. Let us have the cribbage-board, Lucy. Haire has said all
+the smart things he means to give us this evening, and I will take my
+revenge at the only game at which I am his master. Haire, who reads men
+like a book, Lucy,&rdquo; continued the Chief, as he dealt the cards, &ldquo;says that
+our gallant friend will rebel against our humdrum life here. I demur to
+the opinion,&mdash;what say you?&rdquo; But he was now deep in his game, and
+never heeded the answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIV. SEWELL'S TROUBLES
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A letter for you by the post, sir, and his Lordship's compliments to say
+he is waiting breakfast,&rdquo; were the first words which Sewell heard the next
+morning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Waiting breakfast! Tell him not to wait,&mdash;I mean, make my respects
+to his Lordship, and say I feel very poorly to-day,&mdash;that I think I
+'ll not get up just yet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would you like to see Dr. Beattie, sir? He's in the drawing-room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind. It's a complaint I caught in India; I manage it
+myself. Bring me up some coffee and rum in about an hour, and mind, don't
+disturb me on any account till then. What an infernal house!&rdquo; muttered he,
+as the man withdrew. &ldquo;A subaltern called up for morning parade has a
+better life than this. Nine o'clock only! What can this old ass mean by
+this pretended activity? Upon whom can it impose? Who will believe that it
+signifies a rush whether he lay abed till noon or rose by daybreak?&rdquo; A
+gentle tap came to the door, but as he made no reply there came after a
+pause another, a little louder. Sewell still preserved silence, and at
+last the sound of retiring footsteps along the corridor. &ldquo;Not if I know
+it,&rdquo; muttered he to himself, as he turned round and fell off asleep again.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The coffee, sir, and a despatch; shall I sign the receipt for you?&rdquo; said
+the servant, as he reappeared about noon.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; open the window a little, and leave me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Leaning on his arm, he tore open the envelope and glanced at the
+signature,&mdash;&ldquo;Lucy.&rdquo; He then read, &ldquo;Send down Eccles or Beattie by
+next train; he is worse.&rdquo; He read and re-read this at least half-a-dozen
+times over before he bethought him of the letter that lay still unopened
+on the bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+He now broke the seal; it was also from his wife, dated the preceding
+evening, and very brief:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear Dudley,&mdash;Captain Trafford has had a severe fall. Crescy balked
+at the brook and fell afterwards. Trafford was struck on the head as he
+rose by Mr. Creagh's horse. It is feared the skull is fractured. You are
+much blamed for having asked him to ride a horse so much under his weight.
+All have refused to accept their bets but Kinshela the grocer. I have
+written to Sir H. Trafford, and I telegraphed to him Dr. Tobin's opinion,
+which is not favorable. I suppose you will come back at once; if not,
+telegraph what you advise to be done. Mr. Balfour is here still, but I do
+not find he is of much use. The veterinary decided Crescy should be shot,
+as the plate-bone, I think he called it, was fractured; and as he was in
+great pain, I consented. I hope I have done right.&mdash;Yours truly,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy Sewell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's a go! a horse I refused four hundred and fifty for on Tuesday
+last! I <i>am</i> a lucky dog, there 's no denying it. I did n't know
+there was a man in Europe could have made that horse balk his fence. What
+a rumpus to make about a fellow getting a 'cropper'! My share of the
+disaster is a deuced deal the worst. I 'll never chance on such a horse
+again. How am I to find either of these men?&rdquo; muttered he, as he took up
+the telegram. He rang the bell violently, and scarcely ceased to pull at
+it till the servant entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where does Dr. Eccles live?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Gilbert, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, if he be Sir Gilbert.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Merrion Square, sir,&rdquo; said the man reproachfully, for he thought it
+rather hard to ignore one of the great celebrities of the land.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take this note to him, that I 'll write now, and if he be from home go to
+the other man,&mdash;what's his name?&mdash;Beattie.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dr. Beattie is coming to dinner to-day, sir,&rdquo; said the servant, thinking
+to facilitate matters.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just do as I tell you, my good fellow, and don't interrupt. If I am to
+take up my quarters here, you'll all of you have to change some of your
+present habits.&rdquo; As he spoke, he dashed off a few hasty lines, addressing
+them to Sir Gilbert Eccles or Dr. Beattie. &ldquo;Ask if it's 'all right;' that
+will be sufficient reply; and now send me my bath.&rdquo; As he proceeded with
+his dressing,&mdash;a very lengthy affair it always was,&mdash;he
+canvassed with himself whether or not he ought to take the train and go
+down to the country with the doctor. Possibly few men in such
+circumstances would have given the matter a doubt. The poor fellow who had
+incurred the mishap had been, at his insistence, acting for him. Had it
+not been for Se well's pressing this task upon him, Trafford would at that
+moment have been hale and hearty. Sewell knew all this well; he read the
+event just as nineteen out of every twenty would have read it, but having
+done so, he proceeded to satisfy himself why all these reasonings should
+give way to weightier considerations.
+</p>
+<p>
+First of all, it would not be quite convenient to let the old Judge know
+anything of these doings in the country. His strait-laced notions might
+revolt at races and betting-rings. It might not be perhaps decorous that a
+registrar of a high court should be the patron of such sports. These were
+prudential reasons, which he dilated on for some time. Then came some,
+others more sentimental. It was to a house of doctors and nurses and gloom
+and sorrow he should go back. All these were to him peculiarly
+distasteful. He should be tremendously &ldquo;bored&rdquo; by it all, and being
+&ldquo;bored&rdquo; was to him whatever was least tolerable in life. It was strange
+that there was one other reason stronger than all these,&mdash;a reason
+that really touched him in what was the nearest thing in his nature to
+heart. He couldn't go back and look at the empty loose-box where his
+favorite horse once stood, and where he was never to stand more. Crescy
+the animal he was so proud of,&mdash;the horse he counted on for who knows
+what future triumphs,&mdash;the first steeplechase horse, he felt
+convinced, in Ireland, if not in the kingdom,&mdash;such strength, such
+power in the loins, such square joints, such courage, should he ever see
+united again? If there was anything in that man's nature that represented
+affection, he had it for this horse. He knew well to what advantage he
+looked when on his back,&mdash;he knew what admiration and envy it drew
+upon him to see him thus mounted. He had won him at billiards from a man
+who was half broken-hearted at parting with him, and who offered immense
+terms rather than lose him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said I'd have no luck with him,&rdquo; muttered Sewell, now in his misery,&mdash;&ldquo;and,
+confound the fellow! he was right. No, I can't go back to look at his
+empty stall. It would half kill me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was very real grief, all this; he was as thoroughly heart-sore as it
+was possible for him to be. He sorrowed for what nothing in his future
+life could replace to him; and this is a very deep sorrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Trafford's misfortune was so much the origin and cause of his own disaster
+that he actually thought of him with bitterness. The man who could make
+Crescy balk! What fate could be too hard for him?
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor was he quite easy in his mind about that passage in his wife's letter
+stating that men would not take their bets. Was this meant as reflecting
+upon him? Was it a censure on him for making Trafford ride a horse beneath
+his weight? &ldquo;They get up some stupid cry of that sort,&rdquo; muttered he, &ldquo;as
+if I am not the heaviest loser of all. I lost a horse that was worth a
+score of Traffords.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+When dressed, Sewell went down to the garden and lit his cigar. His sorrow
+had grown calmer, and he began to think that in the new life before him he
+should have had to give up horses and sport of every kind. &ldquo;I must make my
+book now on this old fellow, and get him to make me his heir. He cares
+little for his son, and he can be made to care just as little for his
+granddaughter. That's the only game open to me,&mdash;a dreary life it
+promises to be, but it's better than a jail.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The great large wilderness of a garden, stretching away into an orchard at
+the end, was in itself a place to suggest sombre thoughts,&mdash;so silent
+and forsaken did it all appear. The fruit lay thick on the ground uncared
+for; the artichokes, grown to the height of shrubs, looked monsters of
+uncouthness; and even in the alleys flower-seeds had fallen and given
+birth to flowers, which struggled up through the gravel and hung their
+bright petals over the footway. There was in the neglect, the silence, the
+un-cared-for luxuriance of the place, all that could make a moody man
+moodier; and as he knocked off the great heads of the tall hollyhocks, he
+thought, and even said aloud, &ldquo;This is about as much amusement as such a
+spot offers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh no, not so bad as that,&rdquo; said a laughing voice; and Lucy peeped over a
+laurel-hedge with a rake in her hand, and seemed immensely amused at his
+discomfiture.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/302.jpg" width="100%" alt="302 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where are you?&mdash;I mean, how is one to come near you?&rdquo; said he,
+trying to laugh, but not successfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go round yonder by the fish-pond, and you 'll find a wicket. This is <i>my</i>
+garden, and I till it myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So!&rdquo; said he, entering a neat little enclosure, with beds of flowers and
+flowering shrubs, &ldquo;this is your garden?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&mdash;what do you think of it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's very pretty,&mdash;it 's very nice. I should like it larger,
+perhaps.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So would I; but, being my own gardener, I find it quite big enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why doesn't the Chief give you a gardener?&mdash;he's rich enough,
+surely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He never cared for gardening himself. Indeed, I think it is the wild
+confusion of foliage here that he likes. He said to me one day, 'In <i>my</i>
+old garden a man loses himself in thought. In this trimly kept place one
+is ever occupied by the melon-frame or the forcing-house.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the dreadful thing about old people; they are ever for making the
+whims and crotchets of age the rules of life to others. I wonder you bear
+this so well.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I didn't know that I bore anything,&rdquo; said she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's true slave doctrine, I must say; and when one does not feel
+bondage, there's no more to be said.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect I have a great deal more freedom than most girls; my time is
+almost all my own, to dispose of as I will. I read, or play, or walk, or
+work, as I feel inclined. If I wish to occupy myself with household
+matters, I am the mistress here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In other words, you are free to do everything that is not worth doing,&mdash;you
+lead the life of a nun in a convent, only that you have not even a sister
+nun to talk to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And which are the things you say are worth doing?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would you not care to go out into the world, to mix in society, to go to
+balls, theatres, fêtes, and such-like? Would you not like to ride? I don't
+mean it for flattery, but would you not, like the admiration you would be
+sure to meet,&mdash;the sort of homage people render to beauty, the ouly
+tribute the world ever paid freely,&mdash;are all these not worth
+something?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sure they are: they are worth a great deal to those who can enjoy
+them with a happy heart; but remember, Colonel Se well, I have a father
+living in exile, simply to earn a livelihood, and I have a brother toiling
+for his bread in a strange land: is it likely I could forget these, or is
+it likely that I could carry such cares about with me, and enjoy the
+pleasures you tell of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! as for that, I never met the man, nor woman either, that could bring
+into the world a mind unburdened by care. You must take life as it is. If
+I was to wait for a heart at ease before I went into society, I 'd have to
+decline a few dinner-parties. Your only chance of a little respite,
+besides, is at your age. The misfortunes of life begin as a little
+drizzle, but become a regular downpour when one gets to <i>my</i> time of
+life. Let me just tell you what this morning brought forth. A letter and
+then a telegram from my wife, to tell me that my favorite horse&mdash;an
+animal worth five hundred pounds if he was worth five shillings&mdash;the
+truest, bravest, best horse I ever backed&mdash;has just been killed by a
+stupid fellow I got to ride for me. What he did to make the horse refuse
+his leap, what magic he used, what conjuring trick he performed, I can't
+tell. With <i>me</i> it was enough to show him his fence, and if I wanted
+it I could n't have held him back. But this fellow&mdash;a dragoon, too,
+and the crack rider of his regiment&mdash;contrives to discourage my poor
+beast, then rushes him at the jump at half speed. I know it was a widish
+brook, and they tumbled in, and my horse smashed his blade bone,&mdash;of
+course there was nothing for it but to shoot him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How sad! I am really sorry for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all this came of the old Judge's message, the stupidity of sending me
+five words in a telegram, instead of writing a proper note, and saying
+what he wanted. But for that I 'd have stayed at home, ridden my horse,
+won my match, and spared myself the whole disaster.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Grandpapa is often very hasty in his decisions, but I believe he seldom
+sees cause to revoke them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The old theory, 'The King can do no wrong,'&rdquo; said Sewell, with a saucy
+laugh; &ldquo;but remember he can often do a deal of mischief incidentally, as
+it were,&mdash;as on the present occasion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the rider, what of him? Did he escape unhurt?&rdquo; said she, eager to
+avoid unpleasant discussion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The rider! my dear young lady,&rdquo; said he, with affected slowness,&mdash;&ldquo;the
+rider came to grief. What he did, or how he did it, to throw my poor horse
+down, is his own secret, and, from what I hear, he is likely to keep it.
+No, no, don't look so horrified,&mdash;he's not killed, but I don't
+suspect he's a long way off it. He got a smashing fall at a fence I 'd
+have backed myself to ride with my hands tied. Ay, and to have my good
+horse back again, I 'd ride in that fashion to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the poor fellow, where is he now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The poor fellow is receiving the very sweetest of Mrs. Sewell's
+attentions. He is at my house,&mdash;in all likelihood in my room,&mdash;not
+that he is very conscious of all the favors bestowed upon him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, don't talk with that pretended indifference! You must be, you cannot
+help being, deeply sorry for what has happened.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There can be very little doubt on that score. I've lost such a horse as I
+never shall own again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pray think of something beside your horse. Who was he? What's his name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A stranger,&mdash;an Englishman; you never heard of him; and I wish I had
+never heard of him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What are you smiling at?&rdquo; said she, after a pause, for he stood as though
+reflecting, and a very strange half-smile moved his mouth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was just thinking,&rdquo; said he, gravely, &ldquo;what his younger brother ought
+to give me; for this fellow was an elder son, and heir to a fine estate
+too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She turned an indignant glance towards him, and moved away. He was quickly
+after her, however, and, laying his hand on her arm, said good-humoredly:
+&ldquo;Come, don't be angry with me. I 'm sorry, if you like,&mdash;I 'm very
+sorry for this poor fellow. I won't say that my own loss does not dash my
+sorrow with a little anger,&mdash;he was such a horse! and the whole thing
+was such a blunder! as fair a brook,&mdash;with a high bank, it's true,&mdash;but
+as fair a fence as ever &amp; man rode at, and ground like this we 're
+walking over to take off from.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he in danger?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe so; here's what my wife says. Oh, I haven't got the letter
+about me, but it comes to this, I was to send down one of the best doctors
+by the first train, telling him it was a case of compression or
+concussion, which is it? And so I have despatched Beattie, your
+grandfather's man. I suppose there 's no better?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why have you not gone back yourself? He was a friend, was he not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he was what people would call a friend. I 'm like the hare in the
+fable, I have many friends; but if I must be confidential, I 'll tell you
+why I did <i>not</i> go. I had a notion, just as likely to be wrong as
+right, that the Chief would take offence at his Registrar being a sporting
+character, and that if I were to absent myself just now, he'd find out the
+reason, whereas by staying here I could keep all quiet, and when Beattie
+came back I could square <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand pardons for my bit of slang; but the fact is, just as one
+talks French when he wants to say nothings, one takes to slang when one
+requires to be shifty. I meant to say, I could manage to make the doctor
+hold his tongue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not if grandpapa were to question him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell smiled, and shook his head in dissent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no. You're quite mistaken in Dr. Beattie; and what's more, you 're
+quite mistaken in grandpapa too, if you imagine that he 'll think the
+better of you for forgetting the claims of friendship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was none.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, of humanity, then! It was in <i>your</i> cause this man suffered,
+and it is in <i>your</i> house he lies ill. I think you ought to be there
+also.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sure of it. You know the world a great deal better than I do, and
+you can tell what people will say of your absence; but I think it requires
+no knowledge of more than one's own nature to feel what is right and
+proper here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said he, reflectingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you agree with me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps,&mdash;that is, in part. I suppose what you mean about the world
+is, that there will be some scandal afloat, the 'young wife' story, and
+all that sort of balderdash?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I really do not understand you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No. Certainly not. What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly you did not understand me. Well, if I am to go, there 's no time
+to be lost. It's four o'clock already, and the last train leaves at
+five-forty. I will go.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are quite right.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll make my excuses to the Chief. You 'll tell him that my wife's
+message was so alarming that I could not delay my departure. Beattie will
+probably be back tomorrow, and bring you news of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Won't you write a few lines?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not sure,&mdash;I 'll not promise. I'm a bad penman, but my wife
+will write, I 've no doubt. Say all sorts of affectionate and dutiful
+things to the Chief for me; tell him I went away in despair at not being
+able to say good-bye; he likes that style of thing, does n't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think he cares much for 'that style of thing,'&rdquo; said she, with a
+saucy smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a capital mimic you are! Do you know I am just beginning to suspect
+that you are, for all your quiet simplicity of manner, a deuced deep one.
+Am I right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shook her head, but made no reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not that I 'd like you the less for it,&rdquo; said he, eagerly; &ldquo;on the
+contrary, we 'd understand each other all the better; there's nothing like
+people talking the same language, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you'll not lose your train,&rdquo; said she, looking at her watch; &ldquo;I am
+half-past four.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A broad hint,&rdquo; said he, laughing; &ldquo;bye-bye,&mdash;<i>à bientôt</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXV. BEATTIE'S RETURN
+</h2>
+<p>
+The old Chief sat alone in his dining-room over his wine. If somewhat
+fatigued by the labors of the day,&mdash;for the Court had sat late,&mdash;he
+showed little of exhaustion; still less was he, as his years might have
+excused, drowsy or heavy. He sat bolt upright in his chair, and by an
+occasional gesture of his hand, or motion of his head, seemed as though he
+were giving assent to some statement he was listening to, or making his
+comments on it as it proceeded.
+</p>
+<p>
+The post had brought a letter to Lucy just as dinner was over. It bore the
+post-mark &ldquo;Cagliari,&rdquo; and was in her brother's hand; and the old man, with
+considerate kindness, told her to go to her room and read it. &ldquo;No, my dear
+child,&rdquo; said he, as she arose to leave the room; &ldquo;no! I shall not be
+lonely,&mdash;where there is memory there are troops of friends. Come back
+and tell me your news when you have read your letter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+More than an hour passed over, and he sat there heedless of time. A whole
+long life was passing in review before him, not connectedly, or in due
+sequence of events, but in detached scenes and incidents. Now it was some
+stormy night in the old Irish House, when Flood and Grattan exchanged
+their terrific denunciations and insults,&mdash;now it was a brilliant
+dinner at Ponsonby's, with all the wits of the day,&mdash;now he was
+leading the famous Kitty O'Dwyer, the beauty of the Irish Court, to her
+carriage, amid such a murmur of admiration as made the progress a triumph;
+or, again, it was a raw morning of November, and he was driving across the
+park to be present at Curran's meeting with Egan.
+</p>
+<p>
+A violent ring of the hall bell startled him, and before he could inquire
+the cause a servant had announced Dr. Beattie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought I might be fortunate enough to catch you before bed-hour,&rdquo; said
+the doctor, &ldquo;and I knew you would like to hear some tidings of my
+mission.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have been to&mdash;Where have you been?&rdquo; said the old Judge,
+embarrassed between the late flood of his recollections and the sudden
+start of his arrival.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To Killaloe, to see that poor fellow who had the severe fall in the
+hurdle-race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay&mdash;to be sure&mdash;yes. I remember all now. Give me a moment,
+however.&rdquo; He nodded his head twice or thrice, as if concurring with some
+statement, and then said, &ldquo;Go on, sir; the Court is with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie proceeded to detail the accident and the state of the sufferer,&mdash;of
+whom he pronounced favorably,&mdash;saying that there was no fracture, nor
+anything worse than severe concussion. &ldquo;In fact,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;were it an
+hospital case, I'd say there was very little danger.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you mean to tell me, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, who had followed the
+narrative with extreme attention, &ldquo;that the man of birth and blood must
+succumb in any conflict more readily than the low-born?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not the individual I was thinking of, so much as his belongings
+here. What I fear for in the present case is what the patient must
+confront every day of his convalescence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Seeing that the Judge waited for some explanation, Beattie began to relate
+that, as he had started from Dublin the day before, he found himself in
+the same carriage with the young man's mother, who had been summoned by
+telegraph to her son's bedside.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have met,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;in my time, nearly all sorts and conditions of
+people. Indeed, a doctor's life brings him into contact with more maladies
+of nature and temperament than diseases of material origin; but anything
+like this woman I never saw before. To begin: she combined within herself
+two qualities that seem opposed to each other,&mdash;a most lavish candor
+on the score of herself and her family, and an intense distrust of all the
+rest of mankind. She told me she was a baronet's wife; how she had married
+him; where they lived; what his estate was worth; how this young fellow
+had become, by the death of a brother, the heir to the property; and how
+his father, indignant at his extravagance, had disentailed the estate, to
+leave it to a younger son if so disposed. She showed at times the very
+greatest anxiety about her son's state; but at other moments just as
+intense an eagerness to learn what schemes and intrigues were being formed
+against him,&mdash;who were the people in whose house he then was, what
+they were, and how he came there. To all my assurances that they were
+persons in every respect her son's equals, she answered by a toss of the
+head or a saucy half-laugh. 'Irish?' asked she. 'Yes, Irish.' 'I thought
+so,' rejoined she; 'I told Sir Hugh I was sure of it, though he said there
+were English Sewells.' From this instant her distrust broke forth. All
+Ireland had been in a conspiracy against her family for years. She had a
+brother, she said it with a shiver of horror, who was cruelly beaten by an
+attorney in Cork for a little passing pleasantry to the man's sister; he
+had kissed her, or something of the kind, in a railroad carriage; and her
+cousin,&mdash;poor dear Cornwall is Merivale,&mdash;it was in Ireland he
+found that creature that got the divorce against him two years since. She
+went on to say that there had been a plot against her son, in the very
+neighborhood where he now lay ill, only a year ago,&mdash;some intrigue to
+involve him in a marriage, the whole details of which she threatened me
+with the first time we should be alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Though at some moments expressing herself in terms of real affection and
+anxiety about her poor son, she would suddenly break off to speculate on
+what might happen from his death. 'You know, doctor, there is only one
+more boy, and if his life lapsed, Holt and the Holt estate goes to the
+Carringtons.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An odious woman, sir,&mdash;a most odious woman; I only wonder why you
+continued to travel in the same carriage with her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My profession teaches great tolerance,&rdquo; said the doctor, mildly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't call tolerance, sir, what there is a better word for,&mdash;subserviency.
+I am amazed how you endured this woman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember&mdash;it is to'be remembered&mdash;that in my version of her I
+have condensed the conversation of some hours, and given you, as it were,
+the substance of much talking; and also that I have not attempted to
+convey what certainly was a very perfect manner. She had no small share of
+good looks, a very sweet voice, and considerable attraction in point of
+breeding.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will accept none of these as alleviations, sir; her blandishments
+cannot blind the Court.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will not deny their influence upon myself,&rdquo; said Beattie, gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can understand you, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, pompously. &ldquo;The habits of
+your profession teach you to swallow so much that is nauseous in a sweet
+vehicle, that you carry the same custom into morals.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie laughed so heartily at the analogy that the old man's good-humor
+returned to him, and he bade him continue his narrative.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not much more to tell. We reached the house by about eleven
+o'clock at night, and my fellow-traveller sat in the carriage till I
+announced her to Mrs. Sewell. My own cares called me to the sick-room, and
+I saw no more of the ladies till this morning, just before I came away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is, then, domesticated there? She has taken up her quarters at the
+Sewells' house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. I found her maid, too, had taken possession of Colonel Sewell's
+dressing-room, and dispossessed a number of his chattels to make room for
+her own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a happy thing, a very happy thing for me, that I have not been
+tried by these ordeals,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a long-drawn breath. &ldquo;I
+wonder how Colonel Sewell will endure it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no means of knowing; he arrived late at night, and was still in
+bed and asleep when I left.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have not told me these people's name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Trafford,&mdash;Sir Hugh Beecham Trafford, of Holt-Trafford,
+Staffordshire.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have met the man, or rather his father, for it was nigh fifty years
+ago,&mdash;an old family, and of Saxon origin; and his wife,&mdash;who was
+she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her name was Merivale. Her father, I think, was Governor of Madras.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If so, sir, she has hereditary claims for impertinence and presumption.
+Sir Ulysses Merivale enjoyed the proud distinction of being the most
+insolent man in England. It is well that you have told me who she was,
+Beattie, for I might have made a very fatal blunder. I was going to write
+to Sewell to say, 'As this is a great issue, I would advise you to bring
+down your mother, &ldquo;special,&rdquo;' but I recall my intention. Lady Lendrick
+would have no chance against Lady Trafford. Irish insolence has not the
+finish of the English article, and we put an alloy of feeling in it that
+destroys it altogether. Will the young man recover?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is going on favorably, and I see nothing to apprehend, except, indeed,
+that the indiscretions of his mother may prejudice his case. She is very
+likely to insist on removing him; she hinted it to me as I took my leave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will write to the Sewells to come up here at once. They shall evacuate
+the territory, and leave her in possession. As persons closely connected
+with my family, they must not have this outrage put upon them.&rdquo; He rang
+the bell violently, and desired the servant to request Miss Lendrick to
+come to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is not very well, my Lord, and has gone to her room. She told Mrs.
+Beales to serve your Lordship's tea when you were ready for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is this? What does all this mean?&rdquo; said the old Judge, eagerly; for
+the idea of any one presuming to be ill without duly apprising him&mdash;without
+the preliminary step of ascertaining that it could not inconvenience him&mdash;was
+more than he was fully prepared for.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell Mrs. Beales I want her,&rdquo; said he, as he rose and left the room.
+Muttering angrily as he went, he ascended the stairs and traversed the
+long corridor which led to Lucy's room; but before he had reached the door
+the housekeeper was at his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Lucy said she 'd like to see your Lordship, if it was n't too much
+trouble, my Lord.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am going to see her. Ask her if I may come in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord,&rdquo; said Mrs. Beales from the open door. &ldquo;She is awake.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own dear grandpapa,&rdquo; said Lucy, stretching out her arms to him from
+her bed, &ldquo;how good and kind of you to come here!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear, dear child,&rdquo; said he, fondly; &ldquo;tell me you are not ill; tell me
+that it is a mere passing indisposition.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not even so much, grandpapa. It is simply a headache. I was crying, and I
+was ashamed that you should see it; and I walked out into the air; and I
+came back again, trying to look at ease; and my head began to throb and to
+pain me so that I thought it best to go to bed. It was a letter I got,&mdash;a
+letter from Cagliari. Poor Tom has had the terrible fever of the island.
+He said nothing about it at first, but now he has relapsed. There are only
+three lines in his own hand,&mdash;the rest is from his friend. You shall
+see what he says. It is very short, and not very hard to read.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man put on his spectacles and read:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'My very dear Lucy.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who presumes to address you in this way? 'Brook Fossbrooke?' What! is
+this the man who is called Sir Brook Fossbrooke? By what means have you
+become so intimate with a person of his character?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing better, nothing more truly noble and generous, than his
+character,&rdquo; said she, holding her temples as she spoke, for the pain of'
+her head was almost agony. &ldquo;Do read on,&mdash;read on, dearest grandpapa.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He turned again to the letter, and read it over in silence till he came to
+the few words in Tom's hand, which he read aloud: &ldquo;Darling Lu&mdash;I
+shall be all right in a week. Don't fret, but write me a long&mdash;long&rdquo;&mdash;he
+had forgotten the word &ldquo;letter,&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;and love me always.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She burst into tears, as the old man read the words, for by some strange
+magic, the syllables of deep affection, uttered by one unmoved, smite the
+heart with a pang that is actual torture.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will take this letter down to Beattie, Lucy, and hear what he says of
+it,&rdquo; said the old man, and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Read this, Beattie, and tell me what you say to it,&rdquo; said the Chief
+Baron, as he handed the doctor Sir Brook's letter; &ldquo;I'll tell you of the
+writer when you have read it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie read the note in silence, and as he laid it on the table said, &ldquo;I
+know the man, and his strange old-fashioned writing would have recalled
+him without his name.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do you know of him, sir?&rdquo; asked the Judge, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can tell you the story in three words: He came to consult me one
+morning, about six or eight months ago. It was about an insurance on his
+life,&mdash;a very small sum he wanted to raise, to go out to this very
+place he writes from. He got to talk about the project, and I don't
+exactly know how it came about,&mdash;I forget the details now,&mdash;but
+it ended by my lending him the money myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, sir! do you combine usury with physic?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On that occasion I appear to have done so,&rdquo; said Beattie, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you advanced a sum of money to a man whom you saw for the first time,
+simply on his showing that his life was too insecure to guarantee
+repayment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That puts the matter a little too nakedly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It puts it truthfully, sir, I apprehend.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you mean that the man impressed me so favorably that I was disposed to
+do him a small service, you are right.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You and I, Beattie, are too old for this impulsive generosity,&mdash;too
+old by thirty years! After forty philanthropy should take a chronic form,
+and never have paroxysms. I think I am correct in my medical language.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your medicine pleases me more than your morality,&rdquo; said Beattie,
+laughing; &ldquo;but to come back to this Sir Brook, I wish you had seen him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, I have seen him, and I have heard of him, and if not at liberty to
+say what I have heard of him, it is quite enough to state that <i>my</i>
+information cannot corroborate <i>your</i> opinion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, my Lord, the possibility of what I might hear will not shake the
+stability of what I have seen. Remember that we doctors imagine we read
+human nature by stronger spectacles than the laity generally.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You imagine it, I am aware, sir; but I have met with no such instances of
+acuteness amongst your co-professionals as would sustain the claim; but
+why are we wandering from the record? I gave you that letter to read that
+you might tell me, is this boy's case a dangerous one?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a very grave case, no doubt; this is the malaria fever of Sardinia,&mdash;bad
+enough with the natives, but worse with strangers. He should be removed to
+better air at once if he could bear removal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So is it ever with your art,&rdquo; said the Judge, in a loud declamatory
+voice. &ldquo;You know nothing in your difficulties but a piteous entreaty to
+the unknown resources of nature to assist you. No, sir; I will not hear
+your defence; there is no issue before the Court. What sort of
+practitioners have they in this island?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Rude enough, I can believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Could a man of eminence be found to go out there and see him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A man in large practice could not spare the time; but there are men of
+ability who are not yet in high repute: one of these might be possibly
+induced.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what might the expense be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A couple of hundred&mdash;say three hundred pounds, would perhaps
+suffice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go upstairs and see my granddaughter. She is very nervous and feverish;
+calm her mind so far as you are able; say that we are concerting measures
+for her brother's benefit; and by the time you shall come down again I
+will have made up my mind what to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie was a valued friend of Lucy's, and she was glad to see him enter
+her room, but she would not suffer him to speak of herself; it was of poor
+Tom alone she would talk. She heard with delight the generous intentions
+of her grandfather, and exclaimed with rapture,&mdash;&ldquo;This is his real
+nature, and yet it is only by the little foibles of his temper that the
+world knows him; but we, doctor,&mdash;we, who see him as he is, know how
+noble-hearted and affectionate he can be!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must hasten back to him,&rdquo; said Beattie, after a short space; &ldquo;for
+should he decide on sending out a doctor, I must lose no time, as I must
+return to see this young fellow at Killaloe to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, in my greater anxieties I forgot him! How is he,&mdash;can he
+recover?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I regard him as out of danger,&mdash;that is, if Lady Trafford can
+be persuaded not to talk him into a relapse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Trafford! who is she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His mother; she arrived last night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And his name is Trafford, and his Christian name Lionel?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lionel Wentworth Trafford. I took it from his dressing-case when I
+prescribed for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy had been leaning on her arm as she spoke, but she now sank slowly
+backward and fainted.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was a long time before consciousness came back, and even then she lay
+voiceless and motionless, and, though she heard what Beattie said to her,
+unable to speak to him, or intimate by a gesture that she heard him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The doctor needed no confidences,&mdash;he read the whole story. There are
+expressions in the human face which have no reference to physical ills;
+nor are there any indications of bodily suffering. He who asked, &ldquo;Canst
+thou minister to a mind diseased?&rdquo; knew how hopeless was his question; and
+this very despair it is&mdash;this sense of an affliction beyond the reach
+of art&mdash;gives a character to the expression which the doctor's eye
+never fails to discriminate from the look worn by mere malady.
+</p>
+<p>
+As she lay there motionless, her large eyes looking at him with that
+expression in which eagerness struggles against debility, he saw how he
+had become her confidant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, my dear child,&rdquo; said he, taking her hand between both his own, &ldquo;you
+have no occasion for fears on this score,&mdash;so far I assure you on my
+honor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She gave his hand a slight, a very slight pressure, and tried to say
+something, but could not. &ldquo;I will go down now, and see what is to be done
+about your brother.&rdquo; She nodded, and he continued: &ldquo;I will pay you another
+visit to-morrow early, before I leave town, and let me find you strong and
+hearty; and remember that though I force no confidences, Lucy, I will not
+refuse them if you offer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have none, sir,&mdash;none,&rdquo; said she, in a voice of deep melancholy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that I know all that is to be known?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All, sir,&rdquo; said she, with a trembling lip.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, accept me as a friend whom you may trust, my dear Lucy. If you want
+me, I will not fail you; and if you have no need of me, there is nothing
+that has passed to-day between us ever to be remembered,&mdash;you
+understand me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do, sir. You will come to-morrow, won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He nodded assent, and left her.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVI. AN EXIT
+</h2>
+<p>
+Colonel Sewell stood at the window of a small drawing-room he called &ldquo;his
+own,&rdquo; watching the details of loading a very cumbrous travelling-carriage
+which was drawn up before the door. Though the postilions were in the
+saddle, and all ready for a start, the process of putting up the luggage
+went on but slowly,&mdash;now a heavy imperial would be carried out, and
+after a while taken in again; dressing-boxes carefully stowed away would
+be disinterred to be searched for some missing article; bags, baskets, and
+boxes of every shape and sort came and went and came again; and although
+the two footmen who assisted these operations showed in various ways what
+length of training had taught them to submit to in the way of worry and
+caprice, the smart &ldquo;maid,&rdquo; who now and then appeared to give some order,
+displayed most unmistakable signs of ill-humor on her face. &ldquo;Drat those
+dogs! I wish they were down the river!&rdquo; cried she, of two yelping, barking
+Maltese terriers, which, with small bells jingling on their collars, made
+an uproar that was perfectly deafening.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Miss Morris, if it would oblige <i>you</i>&mdash;&rdquo; said one of the
+tall footmen, as he caressed his whisker, and gave a very languishing
+look, more than enough, he thought, to supply the words wanting to his
+sentence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would oblige <i>me</i> very much, Mr. George, to get away out of this
+horrid place. I never did&mdash;no, never&mdash;in all my life pass such a
+ten days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We ain't a-going just yet, after all,&rdquo; said footman number two, with a
+faint yawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's so like you, Mr. Breggis, to say something disagreeable,&rdquo; said she,
+with a toss of her head.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's because it's true I say it, not because it's onpleasant, Miss
+Caroline.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm not Miss Caroline, at least from you, Mr. Breggis.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ain't she haughty,&mdash;ain't she fierce?&rdquo; But his colleague would not
+assent to this judgment, and looked at her with a longing admiration.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's her bell again,&rdquo; cried the girl; &ldquo;as sure as I live, she's rung
+forty times this morning;&rdquo; and she hurried back to the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why do you think we're not off yet?&rdquo; asked George.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the way I heerd her talking that shows me,&rdquo; replied the other.
+&ldquo;Whenever she 's really about to leave a place she goes into them fits of
+laughing and crying and screaming one minute, and a-whimpering the next;
+and then she tells the people&mdash;as it were, unknownst to her&mdash;how
+she hated them all,&mdash;how stingy they was,&mdash;the shameful way they
+starved the servants, and such-like. There's some as won't let her into
+their houses by reason of them fits, for she'll plump out everything she
+knows of a family,&mdash;who ran away with the Misses, and why the second
+daughter went over to France.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know her better than me, Breggis.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do think I does; it's eight years I 've had of it. Eh, what's that,&mdash;was
+n't that a screech?&rdquo; and as he spoke a wild shrill scream resounded
+through the house, followed by a rapid succession of notes that might
+either have been laughter or crying.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell drew the curtain; and wheeling an arm-chair to the fireside, lit
+his cigar, and began to smoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+The house was so small that the noises could be heard easily in every part
+of it; and for a time the rapid passage of persons overhead, and the
+voices of many speaking together, could be detected, and, above these, a
+wild shriek would now and then rise above all, and ring through the house.
+Sewell smoked on undisturbed; it was not easy to say that he so much as
+heard these sounds. His indolent attitude, and his seeming enjoyment of
+his cigar, indicated perfect composure; nor even when the door opened, and
+his wife entered the room, did he turn his head to see who it was.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can William have the pony to go into town?&rdquo; asked she, in a
+half-submissive voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To tell Dr. Tobin to come out; Lady Trafford is taken ill.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He can go on foot; I may want the pony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is alarmingly ill, I fear,&mdash;very violent spasms; and I don't
+think there is any time to be lost.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nobody that makes such a row as that can be in any real danger.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is in great pain, at all events.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Send one of her own people,&mdash;despatch one of the postboys,&mdash;do
+what you like, only don't bore <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She was turning to leave the room, when he called out, &ldquo;I say, when the
+attack came on did she take the opportunity to tell you any pleasant
+little facts about yourself or your family?&rdquo; She smiled faintly, and moved
+towards the door. &ldquo;Can't you tell me, ma'am? Has this woman been condoling
+with you over your hard fate and your bad husband? or has she discovered
+how that 'dear boy' upstairs broke his head as well as his heart in your
+service?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She did ask me certainly if there was n't a great friendship between you
+and her son,&rdquo; said she, with a tone of quiet disdain.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what did you reply?&rdquo; said he, throwing one leg over the arm of the
+chair as he swung round to face her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't well remember. I may have said <i>you</i> liked <i>him</i>, or
+that <i>he</i> liked <i>you</i>. It was such a commonplace reply I made, I
+forget it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And was that all that passed on the subject?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I'd better send for the doctor,&rdquo; said she, and left the room
+before he could stop her, though that such was his intention was evident
+from the way he arose from his chair with a sudden spring.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall hear more of this, Madam,&mdash;by Heaven, you shall!&rdquo; muttered
+he, as he paced the room with rapid steps. &ldquo;Who's that? Come in,&rdquo; cried
+he, as a knock came to the door. &ldquo;Oh, Balfour! is it you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; what the deuce is going on upstairs? Lady Trafford appears to have
+gone mad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed! how unpleasant!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very unpleasant for your wife, I take it. She has been saying all sorts
+of unmannerly things to her this last hour,&mdash;things that, if she were
+n't out of her reason, she ought to be thrown out of the window for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why didn't you do so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a liberty I couldn't think of taking in another man's house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lord love you, I'd have thought nothing of it! I'm the best-natured
+fellow breathing. What was it she said?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know how I can repeat them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I see, they reflect on me. My dear young friend, when you live to my
+age you will learn that anything can be said to anybody, provided it only
+be done by 'the third party.' Whatever the law rejects as evidence,
+assumes in social life the value of friendly admonition. Go on, and tell
+me who it is is in love with my wife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cool as Mr. Cholmondely Balfour was, the tone of this demand staggered
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Art thou the man, Balfour?&rdquo; said Sewell at last, staring at him with a
+mock frown.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, by Jove! I never presumed that far.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the sick fellow, then, is the culprit?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So his mother opines. She is an awful woman! I was sitting with your wife
+in the small drawing-room when she burst into the room and cried out,
+'Mrs. Sewell, is your name Lucy? for, if so, my son has been rambling on
+about you this last hour in a wonderful way: he has told me about fifty
+times that he wants to see you before he dies; and now that the doctor
+says he is out of danger he never ceases talking of dying. I suppose you
+have no objection to the interview; at least they tell me you were
+constantly in his room before my arrival.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did my wife take this?&mdash;what did she say?&rdquo; asked Sewell, with an
+easy smile as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She said something about agitation or anxiety serving to excuse conduct
+which otherwise would be unpardonable; and she asked me to send her maid
+to her,&mdash;as I think, to get me away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you rang the bell and sat down again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; she gave me a look that said, I don't want you here, and I went; but
+the storm broke out again as I closed the door, and I heard Lady
+Trafford's voice raised to a scream as I came downstairs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It all shows what I have said over and over again,&rdquo; said Sewell, slowly,
+&ldquo;that whenever a man has a grudge or a grievance against a woman, he ought
+always to get another woman to torture her. I 'll lay you fifty pounds
+Lady Traf-ford cut deeper into my wife's flesh by her two or three
+impertinences than if I had stormed myself into an apoplexy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And don't you mean to turn her out of the house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Turn whom out?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Trafford, of course.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not so easily done, I suspect. I'll take to the long-boat myself one
+of these days, and leave her in command of the ship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you she's a dangerous, a very dangerous woman; she has been
+ransacking her son's desk, and has come upon all sorts of ugly memoranda,&mdash;sums
+lost at play, and reminders to meet bills, and such-like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he was very unlucky of late,&rdquo; said Sewell, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And there was something like a will, too; at least there was a packet of
+trinkets tied up in a paper, which purported to be a will, but only bore
+the name Lucy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How delicate! there's something touching in that, Balfour; isn't there?&rdquo;
+ said Sewell, with a grin. &ldquo;How wonderfully you seem to have got up the
+case! You know the whole story. How did you manage it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My fellow Paxley had it from Lady Trafford's maid. She told him that her
+mistress was determined to show all her son's papers to the Chief Baron,
+and blow you sky high.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's awkward, certainly,&rdquo; said Sewell, in deep thought. &ldquo;It would be a
+devil of a conflagration if two such combustibles came together. I 'd
+rather she 'd fight it out with my mother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you sent in your papers to the Horse Guards?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; it's all finished. I am gazetted out, or I shall be on Tuesday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sorry for it. Not that it signifies much as to this registrarship. We
+never intended to relinquish our right to it, we mean to throw the case
+into Chancery, and we have one issue already to submit to trial at bar.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who are <i>we</i> that are going to do all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Crown,&rdquo; said Balfour, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Ego et rex meus</i>; that's the style, is it? Come now, Balfy, if you
+'re for a bet, I 'll back my horse, the Chief Baron, against the field.
+Give me sporting odds, for he 's aged, and must run in bandages besides.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That woman's coming here at this moment was most unlucky.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it was; it would n't be <i>my</i> lot if it were anything else.
+I say,&rdquo; cried he, starting up, and approaching the window, &ldquo;what's up
+now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's going at last, I really believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The sound of many and heavy footsteps was now heard descending the stairs
+slowly, and immediately after two men issued from the door, carrying young
+Trafford on a chair; his arms hung listlessly at his side, and his head
+was supported by his servant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder whose doing is this? Has the doctor given his concurrence to it?
+How are they to get him into the coach, and what are they to do with him
+when he is there?&rdquo; Such was the running commentary Balfour kept up all the
+time they were engaged in depositing the sick man in the carriage. Again a
+long pause of inaction ensued, and at last a tap came to the door of the
+room, and a servant inquired for Mr. Balfour.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There!&rdquo; cried Sewell, &ldquo;it's <i>your</i> turn now. I only hope she 'll
+insist on your accompanying her to town.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Balfour hurried out, and was seen soon afterwards escorting Lady Trafford
+to the carriage. Whether it was that she was not yet decided as to her
+departure, or that she had so many injunctions to give before going, the
+eventful moment was long delayed. She twice tried the seat in the
+carriage, once with cushions and then without. She next made Balfour try
+whether it might not be possible to have a sort of inclined plane to lie
+upon. At length she seemed overcome with her exertions, sent for a chair,
+and had a glass of water given her, to which her maid added certain drops
+from a phial.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will tell Colonel Sewell all I have said, Mr. Balfour,&rdquo; said she,
+aloud, as she prepared to enter the carriage. &ldquo;It would have been more
+agreeable to me had he given me the opportunity of saying it to himself,
+but his peculiar notions on the duties of a host have prevented this. As
+to Mrs. Sewell, I hope and believe I have sufficiently explained myself.
+She at least knows my sentiments as to what goes on in this house. Of
+course, sir, it is very agreeable to <i>you</i>. Men of pleasure are not
+persons to be overburdened with scruples,&mdash;least of all such scruples
+as interfere with self-indulgence. This sort of life is therefore
+charming; I leave you to all its delights, sir, and do not even warn you
+against its dangers. I will not promise the same discretion, however, when
+I go hence. I owe it to all mothers who have sons, Mr. Balfour,&mdash;I
+owe it to every family in which there is a name to be transmitted, and a
+fortune to be handed down, to declare what I have witnessed under this
+roof. No, Lionel,&mdash;no, my dear boy; nothing shall prevent my speaking
+out.&rdquo; This was addressed to her son, who by a deep sigh seemed to protest
+against the sentiments he was not able to oppose. &ldquo;It may suit Mr.
+Balfour's habits, or his tastes, to remain here,&mdash;with these I have
+nothing to do. The Duke of Bayswater might possibly think his heir could
+keep better company,&mdash;with that I have no concern; though when the
+matter comes to be discussed before me,&mdash;as it one day will, I have
+no doubt,&mdash;I shall hold myself free to state my opinion. Good-bye,
+sir; you will, perhaps, do me the favor to call at the Bilton; I shall
+remain till Saturday there; I have resolved not to leave Ireland till I
+see the Viceroy; and also have a meeting with this Judge, I forget his
+name, Lam&mdash;Lena&mdash;what is it? He is the Chief something, and
+easily found.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A few very energetic words, uttered so low as to be inaudible to all but
+Balfour himself, closed this address.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On my word of honor,&mdash;on my sacred word of honor,&mdash;Mr.
+Balfour,&rdquo; said she, aloud as she placed one foot on the step, &ldquo;Caroline
+saw it,&mdash;saw it with her own eyes. Don't forget all I have said;
+don't drop that envelope; be sure you come to see me.&rdquo; And she was gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me five minutes to recover myself,&rdquo; said Balfour, as he entered Se
+well's room, and threw himself on a sofa; &ldquo;such a 'breather' as that I
+have not had for many a day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard a good deal of it,&rdquo; said Sewell, coolly. &ldquo;She screams,
+particularly when she means to be confidential; and all that about my wife
+must have reached the gardener in the shrubbery. Where is she off to?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To Dublin. She means to see his Excellency and the Chief Baron; she says
+she can't leave Ireland till she has unmasked all your wickedness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She had better take a house on a lease then; did you tell her so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did nothing but listen,&mdash;I never interposed a word. Indeed, she
+won't let one speak.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd give ten pounds to see her with the Chief Baron. It would be such a
+'close thing.' All his neat sparring would go for nothing against her; for
+though she hits wide, she can stand a deal of punishment without feeling
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She 'll do you mischief there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She might,&rdquo; said he, more thoughtfully. &ldquo;I think I 'll set my mother at
+her; not that she 'll have a chance, but just for the fun of the thing.
+What 's the letter in your hand?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, a commission she gave me. I was to distribute this amongst your
+household;&rdquo; and he drew forth a banknote. &ldquo;Twenty pounds! you have no
+objection to it, have you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing about it; of course you never hinted such a thing to me;&rdquo;
+ and with this he arose and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A STORMY MOMENT
+</h2>
+<p>
+Within a week after the first letter came a second from Cagliari. It was
+but half a dozen lines from Tom himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are sending me off to a place called Maddalena, dearest Lucy, for
+change of air The priest has given me his house, and I am to be Robinson
+Crusoe there, with an old hag for Friday,&mdash;how I wish for you! Sir
+Brook can only come over to me occasionally. Look out for three rocks&mdash;they
+call them islands&mdash;off the N. E. of Sardinia; one of them is mine.&mdash;Ever
+your own,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tom L.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy hastened down with this letter in her hand to her grandfather's room,
+but met Mr. Haire on the stairs, who whispered in her ear, &ldquo;Don't go in
+just yet, my dear; he is out of sorts this morning; Lady Lendrick has been
+here, and a number of unpleasant letters have arrived, and it is better
+not to disturb him further.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you take this note,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;and give it to him at any fitting
+moment? I want to know what I shall reply,&mdash;I mean, I 'd like to hear
+if grandpapa has any kind message to send the poor fellow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave it with me. I 'll take charge of it, and come up to tell you when
+you can see the Judge.&rdquo; Thus saying, he passed on, and entered the room
+where the Chief Baron was sitting. The curtains were closely drawn, and in
+one of the windows the shutters were closed,&mdash;so sensitive to light
+was the old man in his periods of excitement. He lay back in a deep chair,
+his eyes closed, his face slightly flushed, breathing heavily, and the
+fingers of one hand twitching slightly at moments; the other was held by
+Beattie, as he counted the pulse. &ldquo;Dip that handkerchief in the cold
+lotion, and lay it over his forehead,&rdquo; whispered Beattie to Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Speak out, sir; that muttering jars on my nerves, and irritates me,&rdquo; said
+the Judge, in a slow firm tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come,&rdquo; said Beattie, cheerfully, &ldquo;you are better now; the weakness has
+passed off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is no weakness in the case, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, sitting bolt
+upright in the chair, as he grasped and supported himself by the arms. &ldquo;It
+is the ignoble feature of your art to be materialist. You can see nothing
+in humanity but a nervous cord and a circulation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The doctor's ministry goes no further,&rdquo; said Beattie, gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your art is then but left-handed, sir. Where 's Haire?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, at your side,&rdquo; replied Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must finish my story, Haire. Where was it that I left off? Yes; to be
+sure,&mdash;I remember now. This boy of Sewell's&mdash;Reginald Victor
+Sewell&mdash;was, with my permission, to take the name of Lendrick, and be
+called Reginald Victor Sewell Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And become the head of your house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The head of my house, and my heir. She did not say so, but she could not
+mean anything short of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What has your son done to deserve this?&rdquo; asked Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My son's rights, sir, extend but to the modest fortune I inherited from
+my father. Whatever other property I possess has been acquired by my own
+ability and labor, and is mine to dispose of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose there are other rights as well as those of the statute-book?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen to this, Beattie,&rdquo; cried the old Judge, with a sparkle of the eye,&mdash;&ldquo;listen
+to this dialectician, who discourses to me on the import of a word. It is
+not generous I must say, to come down with all the vigor of his bright,
+unburdened faculties upon a poor, weak, and suffering object like myself.
+You might have waited, Haire, till I had at least the semblance of power
+to resist you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What answer did you give her?&rdquo; asked Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I said,&mdash;what it is always safe to say,&mdash;'<i>Le roi s'avisera</i>.'
+Eh, Beattie? this is the grand principle of your own craft. Medicine is
+very little else than 'the wisdom of waiting.' I told her,&rdquo; continued he,
+&ldquo;I would think of it,&mdash;that I would see the child. 'He is here,' said
+she, rising and leaving the room, and in a few moments returned, leading a
+little boy by the hand,&mdash;a very noble-looking child, I will say, with
+a lofty head and a bold brow. He met me as might a prince, and gave his
+hand as though it were an honor he bestowed. What a conscious power there
+is in youth! Ay, sirs, that is the real source of all the much-boasted
+vigor and high-heartedness. Beattie will tell us some story of arterial
+action or nervous expansion; but the mystery lies deeper. The conscious
+force of a future development imparts a vigor that all the triumphs of
+after life pale before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'<i>Fiat justitia, ruât coelum</i>,'&rdquo; said Haire,&mdash;&ldquo;I'd not provide
+for people out of my own family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a very neat though literal translation, sir, and, like all that
+comes from you, pointed and forcible.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd rather be fair and honest than either,&rdquo; said Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I appeal to you, Beattie, and I ask if I have deserved this;&rdquo; and the old
+Judge spoke with an air of such apparent sincerity as actually to impose
+upon the doctor. &ldquo;The sarcasms of this man push my regard for him to the
+last intrenchment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Haire never meant it; he never intended to reflect upon you,&rdquo; said
+Beattie, in a low tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He knows well enough that I did not,&rdquo; said Haire, half sulky; for he
+thought the Chief was pushing his raillery too far.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm satisfied,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a sigh. &ldquo;I suppose he can't help
+it. There are fencers who never believe they have touched you till they
+see the blood. Be it so; and now to go back. She went away and left the
+child with me, promising to take him up after paying a visit she had to
+make in the neighborhood. I was not sorry to have the little fellow's
+company. He was most agreeable, and, unlike Haire, he never made me his
+butt. Well, I have done; I will say no more on that head. I was actually
+sorry when she came to fetch him, and I believe I said so. What does that
+grunt mean, Haire?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not speak.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; but you uttered what implied an ironical assent,&mdash;a <i>nisi
+prius</i> trick,&mdash;like the leer I have seen you bestow upon the
+jury-box. How hard it is for the cunning man to divest himself of the
+subtlety of his calling!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to hear how it all ended,&rdquo; muttered Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall hear, sir, if you will vouchsafe me a little patience. When men
+are in the full vigor of their faculties, they should be tolerant to those
+footsore and weary travellers who, like myself, halt behind and delay the
+march. But bear in mind, Haire, I was not always thus. There was a time
+when I walked in the van. Ay, sir, and bore myself bravely too. I was
+talking with that child when they announced Mr. Balfour, the private
+secretary, a man most distasteful to me; but I told them to show him in,
+curious, indeed, to hear what new form of compromise they were about to
+propose to me. He had come with a secret and confidential message from the
+Viceroy, and really seemed distressed at having to speak before a child of
+six years old, so mysterious and reserved was he. He made a very long
+story of it,&mdash;full an hour; but the substance was this: The Crown had
+been advised to dispute my right of appointment to the registrarship, and
+to make a case for a jury; but&mdash;mark the 'but'&mdash;in consideration
+for my high name and great services, and in deference to what I might be
+supposed to feel from an open collision with the Government, they were
+still willing for an accommodation, and would consent to ratify any
+appointment I should make, other than that of the gentleman I had already
+named,&mdash;Colonel Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Self-control is not exactly the quality for which my friends give me most
+credit. Haire, there, will tell you I am a man of ungovernable temper, and
+who never even tried to curb his passion; but I would hope there is some
+injustice in this award. I became a perfect dove in gentleness, as I asked
+Balfour for the reasons which compelled his Excellency to make my
+stepson's exclusion from office a condition. 'I am not at liberty to state
+them,' was the cool reply. 'They are personal, and, of course, delicate?'
+asked I, in a tone of submission, and he gave a half assent in silence. I
+concurred,&mdash;that is, I yielded the point. I went even further. I
+hinted, vaguely of course, at the courteous reserve by which his
+Excellency was willing to spare me such pain as an unpleasant disclosure&mdash;if
+there were such&mdash;might occasion me. I added, that old men are not
+good subjects for shocks; and I will say, sirs, that he looked at me as I
+spoke with a compassionate pity which won all my gratitude! Ay, Beattie,
+and though my veins swelled at the temples, and I felt a strange rushing
+sound in my ears, I had no fit, and in a moment or two was as calm as I am
+this instant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Let me be clear upon this point,' said I to him. 'I am to nominate to
+the office any one except Sewell, and you will confirm such nomination?'
+'Precisely,' replied he. 'Such act on my part in no way to prejudice
+whatever claim I lay to the appointment in perpetuity, or jeopardize any
+rights I now assert?' 'Certainly not,' said he. 'Write it,' said I,
+pushing towards him a pen and paper; and so overjoyed was he with his
+victorious negotiation that he wrote word for word as I dictated. When I
+came to the name Sewell, I added, 'To whose nomination his Excellency
+demurs, on grounds of character and conduct sufficient in his Excellency's
+estimation to warrant such exclusion; but which, out of deference to the
+Chief Baron's feelings, are not set forth in this negotiation.' 'Is this
+necessary?' asked he, as he finished writing. 'It is,' was my reply; 'put
+your name at foot, and the date;' and he did so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I now read over the whole aloud; he winced at the concluding lines, and
+said, 'I had rather, with your permission, erase these last words; for
+though I know the whole story, and believe it too, there 's no occasion
+for entering upon it here.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As he spoke, I folded the paper and placed it in my pocket. 'Now, sir,'
+said I, 'let <i>me</i> hear the story you speak of.' 'I cannot. I told you
+before I was not at liberty to repeat it.' I insisted, and he refused.
+There was a positive altercation between us and he raised his voice in
+anger, and demanded back from me the paper which he said I had tricked him
+into writing. I will not say that he meant to use force, but he sprang
+from his chair and came towards me with such an air of menace that the
+boy, who was playing in the corner, rushed at him and struck him with his
+drumstick, saying, 'You sha'n't beat grandpapa!' I believe I rang the
+bell; yes, I rang the bell sharply. The child was crying when they came. I
+was confused and flurried. Balfour was gone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the paper?&rdquo; asked Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The paper is here, sir,&rdquo; said he, touching his breastpocket. &ldquo;The country
+shall ring with it, or such submission shall I exact as will bring that
+Viceroy and his minions to my feet in abject contrition. Were you to ask
+me now, I know not what terms I would accept of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would rather you said no more at present,&rdquo; said Beattie. &ldquo;You need rest
+and quietness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I need reparation and satisfaction, sir; that is what I need.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course&mdash;of course; but you must be strong and well to enforce
+it,&rdquo; said Beattie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told Lady Lendrick to leave the child with me. She said she would bring
+him back to-morrow. I like the boy. What does my pulse say, Beattie?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It says that all this talking and agitation are injurious to you,&mdash;that
+you must be left alone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man sighed faintly, but did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Haire and I will take a turn in the garden, and be within call if you
+want us,&rdquo; said Beattie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait a moment,&mdash;what was it I had to say? You are too abrupt,
+Beattie; you snap the cords of thought by such rough handling, and we old
+men lose our dexterous knack of catching the loose ends, as we once did.
+There, there&mdash;leave me now; the skein is all tangled in hopeless
+confusion.&rdquo; He waved his hand in farewell, and they left him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LADY'S LETTER
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy asked me to show him this note from her brother,&rdquo; said Haire, as he
+strolled with Beattie down the lawn. &ldquo;It was no time to do so. Look over
+it and say what you advise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The boy wants a nurse, not a doctor,&rdquo; said Beattie. &ldquo;A little care and
+generous diet would soon bring him round; but they are a strange race,
+these Lendricks. They have all the stern qualities that brave danger, and
+they are terribly sensitive to some small wound to their self-love. Let
+that young fellow, for instance, only begin to feel that he is forgotten
+or an outcast, and he 'll droop at once. A few kind words, and a voice he
+loved, <i>now</i>, will do more than all my art could replace a little
+later.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean that we ought to have him back here?&rdquo; asked Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean that he ought to be where he can be carefully and kindly treated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell the Chief you think so. I 'll say that you dropped the remark
+to myself, of course,&mdash;never meaning to dictate anything to <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie shook his head in sign of doubt.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know him well, better perhaps than any one, and I know there's no more
+generous man breathing; but he must not be coerced,&mdash;he must not be
+even influenced, where the question be one for a decision. As he said to
+me one day, 'I want the evidence, sir, I don't want your speech to it.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's the evidence, then,&rdquo; said Beattie,&mdash;&ldquo;that note with its
+wavering letters, weak and uncertain as the fingers that traced them,&mdash;show
+him that. Say, if you like, that <i>I</i> read it and thought the lad's
+case critical. If, after that, he wishes to talk to me on the subject, I
+'m ready to state my opinion. If the boy be like his father, a few tender
+words and a little show of interest for him will be worth all the tonics
+that ever were brewed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the grandfather's nature too; but the world has never known it,&mdash;probably
+never will know it,&rdquo; said Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that I agree with you,&rdquo; said Beattie, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He regards it as a sort of weakness when people discover any act of
+generosity or any trait of kindliness about him; and do you know,&rdquo; added
+he, confidentially, &ldquo;I have often thought that what the world regarded as
+irritability and sharpness was nothing more nor less than shyness,&mdash;just
+shyness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I certainly never suspected that he was the victim of that quality.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I imagine not. A man must know him as I do to-understand it. I
+remember one day, long, long ago, I went so far as to throw out a half
+hint that I thought he labored under this defect; he only smiled and said,
+'You suspect me of diffidence. I am diffident,&mdash;no man more so, sir;
+but it is of the good or great qualities in other men.' Was n't that a
+strange reply? I never very clearly understood it,&mdash;do you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect I do; but here comes a message to us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire spoke a word with the servant, and then, turning: to Beattie, said:
+&ldquo;He wants to see me. I 'll just step in, and be back in a moment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie promised not to leave till he returned, and strolled along by the
+side of a little brook which meandered tastefully through the greensward.
+He had fallen into a revery,&mdash;a curious inquiry within himself
+whether it were a boon or an evil for a man to have acquired that sort of
+influence over another mind which makes his every act and word seem
+praiseworthy and excellent. &ldquo;I wonder is the Chief the better or the worse
+for this indiscriminating attachment? Does it suggest a standard to attain
+to, or does it merely minister to self-love and conceit? Which is it?
+which is it?&rdquo; cried he, aloud, as he stood and gazed on the rippling
+rivulet beside him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I tell you?&rdquo; said a low, sweet voice; and Lucy Lendrick slipped her
+arm within his as she spoke,&mdash;&ldquo;shall I tell you, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do, by all means.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A little of both, I opine. Mind,&rdquo; said she, laughing, &ldquo;I have not the
+vaguest notion of what you were balancing in your mind, but somehow I
+suspect unmixed good or evil is very rare, and I take my stand on a
+compromise. Am I right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely know, but I can't submit the case to you. I have an
+old-fashioned prejudice against letting young people judge their seniors.
+Let us talk of something else. What shall it be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to talk to you of Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have just been speaking to Haire about him. We must get him back here,
+Lucy,&mdash;we really must.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean here, in this house, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, in this house. Come, don't shake your head, Lucy. I see the
+necessity for it on grounds you know nothing of. Lady Lendrick is
+surrounding your grandfather with her family, and I want Tom back here
+just that the Chief should see what a thorough Lendrick he is. If your
+grandfather only knew the stuff that's in him, he 'd be prouder of him
+than of all his own successes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, no,&mdash;a thousand times no, doctor! It would never do,&mdash;believe
+me, it would never do. There are things which a girl may submit to in
+quiet obedience, which in a man would require subserviency. The Sewells,
+too, are to be here on Saturday, and who is to say what that may bring
+forth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She wrote to you,&rdquo; said the doctor, with a peculiar significance in his
+voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, a strange sort of note too; I almost wish I could show it to you,&mdash;I
+'d so like to hear what you 'd say of the spirit of the writer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She told me she would write,&rdquo; said he again, with a more marked meaning
+in his manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall see it,&rdquo; said she, resolutely; &ldquo;here it is;&rdquo; and she drew forth
+the letter and handed it to him. For an instant she seemed as if about to
+speak, but suddenly, as if changing her mind, she merely murmured, &ldquo;Read
+it, and tell me what you think of it.&rdquo; The note ran thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dearest Lucy,&mdash;We are to meet to-morrow, and I hope and trust to
+meet like sisters who love each other. Let me make one brief explanation
+before that moment arrives. I cannot tell what rumors may have reached you
+of all that has happened here. I know nothing of what people say, nor have
+I the faintest idea how our life may have been represented. If you knew me
+longer and better, you would know that I neither make this ignorance
+matter of complaint nor regret. I have lived about long enough to take the
+world at its just value, and not to make its judgments of such importance
+as can impair my self-esteem and my comfort. It would, however, have been
+agreeable to me to have known what you may have heard of me&mdash;of us&mdash;as
+it is not impossible I might have felt the necessity to add something,&mdash;to
+correct something,&mdash;perhaps to deny something. I am now in the dark,
+and pray forgive me if I stumble rudely against you, where I only meant to
+salute you courteously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You at least know the great disaster which befell here. Dr. Beattie has
+told you the story,&mdash;what more he may have said I cannot guess. If I
+were to wait for our meeting, I should not have to ask you. I should read
+it in your face, and hear it in every accent of your voice; but I write
+these few lines that you may know me at once in all frankness and
+openness, and know that if <i>you</i> be innocent of <i>my</i> secret, <i>I</i>
+at least have <i>yours</i> in my keeping. Yes, Lucy, I know all; and when
+I say all, I mean far more than you yourself know.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I were treacherous, I would not make this avowal to you. I should be
+satisfied with the advantage I possessed, and employ it to my benefit.
+Perhaps with any other woman than yourself I should play this part,&mdash;with
+you I neither can nor will. I will declare to you frankly and at once, you
+have lost the game and I have won it. That I say this thus briefly, is
+because in amplifying I should seem to be attempting to explain what there
+is no explaining. That I say it in no triumph, my own conscious
+inferiority to you is the best guarantee. I never would have dreamed of a
+rivalry had I been a girl. It is because I cannot claim the prize I have
+won it. It is because my victory is my misery I have gained it. I think I
+know your nature well enough to know that you will bear me no ill-will. I
+even go so far as to believe I shall have your compassion and your
+sympathy. I need them more, far more, than you know of. I could tell you
+that had matters fallen out differently it would not have been to <i>your</i>
+advantage, for there were obstacles&mdash;family obstacles&mdash;perfectly
+insurmountable. This is no pretence: on my honor I pledge to the truth of
+what I say. So long as I believed they might be overcome, I was in <i>your</i>
+interest, Lucy. You will not believe me, will you, if I swear it? Will you
+if I declare it on my knees before you?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I have not waited till we met to say these things, it is that we may
+meet with open hearts, in sorrow, but in sincerity. When I have told you
+everything, you will see that I have not been to blame. There may be much
+to grieve over, but there is nothing to reprehend&mdash;anywhere. And now,
+how is our future to be? It is for you to decide. I have not wronged you,
+and yet I am asking for forgiveness. Can you give me your love, and what I
+need as much, your pity? Can you forget your smaller affliction for the
+sake of my heavier one, for it is heavier?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I plead guilty to one only treachery; and this I stooped to, to avoid the
+shame and disgrace of an open scandal. I told his mother that, though Lucy
+was my name, it was yours also; and that you were the Lucy of all his
+feverish wanderings. Your woman's heart will pardon me this one perfidy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is a very dangerous woman in one sense. She has a certain position in
+the world, from which she could and would open a fire of slander on any
+one. She desires to injure me. She has already threatened, and she is
+capable of more than threatening. She says she will see Sir William. This
+she may not be able to do; but she can write to him. You know better than
+I do what might ensue from two such tempers meeting; for myself I cannot
+think of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have written you a long letter, dear Lucy, when I only meant to have
+written five or six lines. I have not courage to read it over; were I to
+do so, I am sure I would never send it. Perhaps you will not thank me for
+my candor. Perhaps you will laugh at all my scrupulous honesty. Perhaps
+you will&mdash;no, that you never will&mdash;I mean, employ my
+trustfulness against myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who knows if I have not given to this incident an importance which you
+will only smile at? There are people so rich that they never are aware if
+they be robbed. Are you one of these, Lucy? and, if so, will you forgive
+the thief who signs herself your ever-loving sister,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy Skwell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have told Dr. Beattie I would write to you; he looked as if he knew
+that I might, or that I ought,&mdash;which is it? Doctors see a great deal
+more than they ought to see. The great security against them is, that they
+acquire an indifference to the sight of suffering, which, in rendering
+them callous, destroys curiosity, and then all ills that can neither be
+bled nor blistered they treat as trifles, and end by ignoring altogether.
+Were it otherwise,&mdash;that is, had they any touch of humanity in their
+nature,&mdash;they would be charming confidants, for they know everything
+and can go everywhere. If Beattie should be one of your pets, I ask pardon
+for this impertinence; but don't forget it altogether, as, one day or
+other, you will be certain to acknowledge its truth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We arrive by the 4.40 train on Saturday afternoon. If I see you at the
+door when we drive up, I shall take it as a sign I am forgiven.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie folded the letter slowly, and handed it to Lucy without a word.
+&ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; said he, after they had walked on several seconds in silence,&mdash;&ldquo;tell
+me, do you mean to-be at the door as she arrives?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; said she, in a very low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has a humble estimate of doctors; but there is one touch of nature
+she must not deny them,&mdash;they are very sensitive about contagion.
+Now, Lucy, I wish with all my heart that you were not to be the intimate
+associate of this woman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So do I, doctor; but how is it to be helped?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He walked along silent and in deep thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I tell you, doctor, how it can be managed, but only by your help
+and assistance? I must leave this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave the Priory! but for where?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I shall go and nurse Tom: he needs <i>me</i>, doctor, and I believe I
+need <i>him</i>; that is, I yearn after that old companionship which made
+all my life till I came here&mdash;Come now, don't oppose this plan; it is
+only by your hearty aid it can ever be carried out. When you have told
+grandpapa that the thought is a good one, the battle will be more than
+half won. You see yourself I ought not to be here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not here with Mrs. Sewell; but there comes the grave difficulty
+of how you are to be lodged and cared for in that wild country where your
+brother lives?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear doctor, I have never known pampering till I came here. Our life
+at home&mdash;and was it not happy!&mdash;was of the very simplest. To go
+back again to the same humble ways will be like a renewal of the happy
+past; and then Tom and I suit each other so well,&mdash;our very caprices
+are kindred. Do say you like this notion, and tell me you will forward
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The very journey is an immense difficulty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not a bit, doctor; I have planned it all. From this to Marseilles is easy
+enough,&mdash;only forty hours; once there, I either go direct to
+Cagliari, or catch the Sardinian steamer at Genoa&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You talk of these places as if they were all old acquaintances; but, my
+dear child, only fancy yourself alone in a foreign city. I don't speak of
+the difficulties of a new language.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You might, though, my dear doctor. My French and Italian, which carry me
+on pleasantly enough with Racine and Ariosto, will expose me sadly with my
+'commissionnaire.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But quite alone you cannot go,&mdash;that's certain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must not take a maid, that's as certain; Tom would only send us both
+back again. If you insist, and if grandpapa insists upon it, I will take
+old Nicholas. He thinks it a great hardship that he has not been carried
+away over seas to see the great world; and all his whims and tempers that
+tortured us as children will only amuse us now; his very tyranny will be
+good fun.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare frankly,&rdquo; said the doctor, laughing, &ldquo;I do not see how the
+difficulties of foreign travel are to be lessened by the presence of old
+Nicholas; but are you serious in all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perfectly serious, and fully determined on it, if I be permitted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When would you go?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At once! I mean as soon as possible. The Sewells are to be here on
+Saturday. I would leave on Friday evening by the mail-train from London. I
+would telegraph to Tom to say on what day he might expect me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-day is Tuesday; is it possible you could be ready?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would start to-night, doctor, if you only obtain my leave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is all a matter of the merest chance how your grandfather will take
+it,&rdquo; said Beattie, musing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But <i>you</i> approve? tell me you approve of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is certainly much in the project that I like. I cannot bear to
+think of your living here with the Sewells; my experience of them is very
+brief, but it has taught me to know there could be no worse companionship
+for you; but as these are things that cannot be spoken of to the Chief,
+let us see by what arguments we should approach him. I will go at once.
+Haire is with him, and he is sure to see that what I suggest has come from
+you. If it should be the difficulty of the journey your grandfather
+objects to, Lucy, I will go as far as Marseilles with you myself, and see
+you safely embarked before I leave you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She took his hand and kissed it twice, but was not able to utter a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, now, my dear child, don't agitate yourself; you need all your calm
+and all your courage. Loiter about here till I come to you, and it shall
+not be long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a true, kind friend you are!&rdquo; said she, as her eyes grew dim with
+tears. &ldquo;I am more anxious about this than I like to own, perhaps. Will
+you, if you bring me good tidings, make me a signal with your
+handkerchief?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He promised this, and left her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lucy sat down under a large elm-tree, resolving to wait there patiently
+for his return; but her fevered anxiety was such that she could not rest
+in one place, and was forced to rise and walk rapidly up and down. She
+imagined to herself the interview, and fancied she heard her grandfather's
+stern question,&mdash;whether she were not satisfied with her home? What
+could he do more for her comfort or happiness than he had done? Oh, if he
+were to accuse her of ingratitude, how should she bear it? Whatever
+irritability he might display towards others, to herself he had always
+been kind and thoughtful and courteous.
+</p>
+<p>
+She really loved him, and liked his companionship, and she felt that if in
+leaving him she should consign him to solitude and loneliness, she could
+scarcely bring herself to go; but he was now to be surrounded with others,
+and if they were not altogether suited to him by taste or habit, they
+would, even for their own sakes, try to conform to his ways and likings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Once more she bethought her of the discussion, and how it was faring. Had
+her grandfather suffered Beattie to state the case fully, and say all that
+he might in its favor? or had he, as was sometimes his wont, stopped him
+short with a peremptory command to desist? And then what part had Haire
+taken? Haire, for whose intelligence the old Judge entertained the lowest
+possible estimate, had somehow an immense influence over him, just as
+instincts are seen too strong for reason. Some traces of boyish
+intercourse yet survived and swayed his mind with his consciousness of its
+power.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How long it seems!&rdquo; murmured she. &ldquo;Does this delay augur ill for success,
+or is it that they are talking over the details of the plan? Oh, if I
+could be sure of that! My poor dear Tom, how I long to be near you&mdash;to
+care for you&mdash;and watch you!&rdquo; and as she said this, a cold sickness
+came over her, and she muttered aloud: &ldquo;What perfidy it all is! As if I
+was not thinking of myself, and my own sorrows, while I try to believe I
+am but thinking of my brother.&rdquo; And now her tears streamed fast down her
+cheeks, and her heart felt as if it would burst. &ldquo;It must be an hour since
+he left this,&rdquo; said she, looking towards the house, where all was still
+and motionless. &ldquo;It is not possible that they are yet deliberating.
+Grandpapa is never long in coming to a decision. Surely all has been
+determined on before this, and why does he not come and relieve me from my
+miserable uncertainty?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+At last the hall door opened, and Haire appeared; he beckoned to her with
+his hand to come, and then re-entered the house. Lucy knew not what to
+think of this, and she could scarcely drag her steps along as she tried to
+hasten back. As she entered the hall, Haire met her, and, taking her hand
+cordially, said, &ldquo;It is all right; only be calm, and don't agitate him.
+Come in now;&rdquo; and with this she found herself in the room where the old
+Judge was sitting, his eyes closed and his whole attitude betokening
+sleep. Beattie sat at his side, and held one hand in his own. Lucy knelt
+down and pressed her lips to the other hand, which hung over the arm of
+the chair. Gently drawing away the hand, the old man laid it on her head,
+and in a low faint voice said: &ldquo;I must not look at you, Lucy, or I shall
+recall my pledge. You are going away!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The young girl turned her tearful eyes towards him, and held her lips
+firmly closed to repress a sob, while her cheeks trembled with emotion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie tells me you are right,&rdquo; continued he, with a sigh; and then,
+with a sort of aroused energy, he added; &ldquo;But old age, amongst its other
+infirmities, fancies that right should yield to years. '<i>Ce sont les
+droits de la decrepitude</i>,' as La Rochefoucauld calls them. I will not
+insist upon my 'royalties,' Lucy, this time. You shall go to your
+brother.&rdquo; His hand trembled as it lay on her head, and then fell heavily
+to his side. Lucy clasped it eagerly, and pressed it to her cheek, and all
+was silent for some seconds in the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last the old man spoke, and it was now in a clear distinct voice,
+though weak. &ldquo;Beattie will tell you everything, Lucy; he has all my
+instructions. Let him now have yours. To-morrow we shall, both of us, be
+calmer, and can talk over all together. To-morrow will be Thursday?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wednesday, grandpapa.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wednesday,&mdash;all the better, my dear child; another day gained. I
+say, Beattie,&rdquo; cried he in a louder tone, &ldquo;I cannot have fallen into the
+pitiable condition the newspapers describe, or I could never have gained
+this victory over my selfishness. Come, sir, be frank enough to own that
+where a man combats himself, he asserts his identity. Haire will go out
+and give that as his own,&rdquo; muttered he; and as he smiled, he lay back, his
+breathing grew heavier and longer, and he sank into a quiet sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIX. SOME CONJUGAL COURTESIES
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have not told me what she wrote to you,&rdquo; said Sewell to his wife, as
+he smoked his cigar at one side of the fire while she read a novel at the
+other. It was to be their last evening at the Nest; on the morrow they
+were to leave it for the Priory. &ldquo;Were there any secrets in it, or were
+there allusions that I ought not to see?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not that I remember,&rdquo; said she, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What about our coming? Does the old man seem to wish for it?&mdash;how
+does she herself take it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She says nothing on the subject, beyond her regret at not being there to
+meet us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why can't she?&mdash;where will she be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At sea, probably, by that time. She goes off to Sardinia to her brother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! do you mean to that fellow who is living with Fossbrooke? Why did
+n't you tell me this before?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I remembered it; or, if I did, it's possible I thought it
+could not have much interest for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, Madam! do you imagine that the only things I care for are the
+movements of <i>your</i> admirers? Where 's this letter? I 'd like to see
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tore it up. She begged me to do so when I had read it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How honorable! I declare you ladies conduct your intercourse with an
+integrity that would be positively charming to think of if only your male
+friends were admitted to any share of the fair dealing. Tell me so much as
+you can remember of this letter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She spoke of her brother having had a fever, and being now better, but so
+weak and reduced as to require great care and attention, and obliged to
+remove for change of air to a small island off the coast.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Fossbrooke,&mdash;does she mention <i>him?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only that he is not with her brother, except occasionally: his business
+detains him near Cagliari.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope it may continue to detain him there! Has this-young woman gone off
+all alone on this journey?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has taken no maid. She said it might prove inconvenient to her
+brother; and has only an old family servant she calls Nicholas with her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, then, we have the house to ourselves so far. She 'll not be in a
+hurry back, I take it. Anything would be better than the life she led with
+her grandfather.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She seems sorry to part with him, and recurs three or four times to his
+kindness and affection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His kindness and affection! His vanity and self-love are nearer the mark.
+I thought I had seen something of conceit and affectation, but that old
+fellow leaves everything in that line miles behind. He is, without
+exception, the greatest bore and the most insupportable bully I ever
+encountered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy liked him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She did not,&mdash;she could not. It suits you women to say these things,
+because you cultivate hypocrisy so carefully that you carry on the game
+with each other! How could any one, let her be ever so abject, like that
+incessant homage this old man exacted,&mdash;to be obliged to be alive to
+his vapid jokes and his dreary stories, to his twaddling reminiscences of
+college success or House of Commons&mdash;Irish House too&mdash;triumphs?
+Do you think if I wasn't a beggar I 'd go and submit myself to such a
+discipline?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+To this she made no reply, and for a while there was a silence in the
+room. At last he said, &ldquo;<i>You'll</i> have to take up that line of
+character that <i>she</i> acted. <i>You'll</i> have to 'swing the incense'
+now. I'll be shot if <i>I</i> do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She gave no answer, and he went on: &ldquo;You 'll have to train the brats too
+to salute him, and kiss his hand and call him&mdash;what are they to call
+him&mdash;grandpapa? Yes, they must say grandpapa. How I wish I had not
+sent in my papers! If I had only imagined I could have planted you all
+here, I could have gone back to my regiment and served out my time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It might have been better,&rdquo; said she, in a low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it would have been better; each of us would have been free, and
+there are few people, be it said, take more out of their freedom,&mdash;eh,
+Madam?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shrugged her shoulders carelessly, but a slight, a very slight, flush
+colored her cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the way, now we're on that subject, have you answered Lady Trafford's
+letter?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said she; and now her cheek grew crimson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what answer did you send?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sent back everything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean?&mdash;your rings and trinkets, the bracelet with the
+hair&mdash;mine, of course,&mdash;it could be no one's but mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All, everything,&rdquo; said she, with a gulp.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must read the old woman's letter over again. You have n't burnt <i>that</i>,
+I hope?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; it's upstairs in my writing-desk.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare,&rdquo; said he, rising and standing with his back to the fire, &ldquo;you
+women, and especially fine ladies, say things to each other that men never
+would dare to utter to other men. That old dame, for instance, charged you
+with what we male creatures have no equivalent for,&mdash;cheating at play
+would be mild in comparison.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think that <i>you</i> escaped scot-free,&rdquo; said she, with an
+intense bitterness, though her tone was studiously subdued and low.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said he, with a jeering laugh. &ldquo;I figured as the accessory or
+accomplice, or whatever the law calls it. I was what polite French ladies
+call <i>le mari complaisant</i>,&mdash;a part I am so perfect in, Madam,
+that I almost think I ought to play it for my Benefit.' What do you say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, sir, it is not for me to pass an opinion on your abilities.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have less bashfulness,&rdquo; said he, fiercely. &ldquo;I 'll venture to say a word
+on <i>yours</i>. I 've told you scores of times&mdash;I told you in India,
+I told you at the Cape, I told you when we were quarantined at Trieste,
+and I tell you now&mdash;that you never really captivated any man much
+under seventy. When they are tottering on to the grave, bald, blear-eyed,
+and deaf, you are perfectly irresistible; and I wish&mdash;really I say it
+in all good faith&mdash;you would limit the sphere of your fascinations to
+such very frail humanities. Trafford only became spooney after that smash
+on the skull; as he grew better, he threw off his delusions,&mdash;did n't
+he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he told me,&rdquo; said she, with perfect calm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! that was a great fluke of mine,&rdquo; cried he, aloud. &ldquo;That was a
+hazard I never so much as tried. So that this fellow had made some sort of
+a declaration to you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never said so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was it then that you <i>did</i> say, Madam? Let us understand each
+other clearly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I am sure we need no explanations for that,&rdquo; said she, rising, and
+moving towards the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to hear about this before you go,&rdquo; said he, standing between her
+and the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not going to pretend jealousy, are you?&rdquo; said she, with an easy
+laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think not,&rdquo; said he, insolently. &ldquo;That is about one of the last
+cares will ever rob me of my rest at night. I 'd like to know, however,
+what pretext I have to send a ball through your young friend.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, as to that peril, it will not rob <i>me</i> of a night's rest,&rdquo; said
+she, with such a look of scorn and contempt as seemed actually to sicken
+him, for he staggered back as though about to fall and she passed out ere
+he could recover himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is to be no quarter between us then! Well, be it so,&rdquo; cried he, as he
+sank heavily into a seat. &ldquo;She's playing a bold game when she goes thus
+far.&rdquo; He leaned his head on the table, and sat thus so long that he
+appeared to have fallen asleep; indeed, the servant who came to tell him
+that tea was served, feared to disturb him, and retired without speaking.
+Far from sleeping, however, his head was racked with a maddening pain, and
+he kept on muttering to himself, &ldquo;This is the second time&mdash;the second
+time she has taunted me with cowardice. Let her beware! Is there no one
+will warn her against what she is doing?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Missis says, please, sir, won't you have a cup of tea?&rdquo; said the maid
+timidly at the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I'll not take any.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Missis says too, sir, that Miss Blanche is tuk poorly, and has a
+shiverin' over her, and a bad headache, and she hopes you 'll send in for
+Dr. Tobin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is she in bed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, please.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll go up and see her;&rdquo; and with this he arose and passed up the little
+stair that led to the nursery. In one bed a little dark-haired girl of
+about three years old lay fast asleep; in the adjoining bed a bright
+blue-eyed child of two years or less lay wide awake, her cheeks crimson,
+and the expression of her features anxious and excited. Her mother was
+bathing her temples with cold water as Sewell entered, and was talking in
+a voice of kind and gentle meaning to the child.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That stupid woman of yours said it was Blanche,&rdquo; said Sewell, pettishly,
+as he gazed at the little girl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told her it was Cary; she has been heavy all day, and eaten nothing.
+No, pet,&mdash;no, darling,&rdquo; said she, stooping over the sick child, &ldquo;pa
+is not angry; he is only sorry that little Cary is ill.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you'd better have Tobin to see her,&rdquo; said he, coldly. &ldquo;I 'll
+tell George to take the tax-cart and fetch him out. It's well it was n't
+Blanche,&rdquo; muttered he, as he sauntered out of the room. His wife's eyes
+followed him as he went, and never did a human face exhibit a stronger
+show of repressed passion than hers, as, with closely compressed lips and
+staring eyes, she watched him as he passed out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The fool frightened me,&mdash;she said it was Blanche,&rdquo; were the words he
+continued to mutter as he went down the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tobin arrived in due time, and pronounced the case not serious,&mdash;a
+mere feverish attack that only required a day or two of care and
+treatment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you seen Colonel Sewell?&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, as she accompanied the
+doctor downstairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I told him just what I 've said to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what reply did he make?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said, 'All right! I have business in town, and must start to-morrow.
+My wife and the chicks can follow by the end of the week.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's so like him!&mdash;so like him!&rdquo; said she, as though the pent-up
+passion could no longer be restrained.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XL. MR. BALFOUR'S OFFICE
+</h2>
+<p>
+On arriving in Dublin, Sewell repaired at once to Balfour's office in the
+Castle yard; he wanted to &ldquo;hear the news,&rdquo; and it was here that every one
+went who wanted to &ldquo;hear the news.&rdquo; There are in all cities, but more
+especially in cities of the second order, certain haunts where the men
+about town repair; where, like the changing-houses of bankers, people
+exchange their &ldquo;credits,&rdquo;&mdash;take up their own notes, and give up those
+of their neighbors.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell arrived before the usual time when people dropped in, and found
+Balfour alone and at breakfast. The Under-Secretary's manner was dry, so
+much Sewell saw as he entered; he met him as though he had seen him the
+day before, and this, when men have not seen each other for some time, has
+a certain significance. Nor did he ask when he had come up, nor in any way
+recognize that his appearance was matter of surprise or pleasure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what's going on here?&rdquo; said Sewell, as he flung himself into an
+easy-chair, and turned towards the fire. &ldquo;Anything new?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing particular. I don't suppose you care for the Cattle Show or the
+Royal Irish Academy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not much,&mdash;at least, I can postpone my inquiries about them. How
+about my place here? Are you going to give me trouble about it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your place,&mdash;your place?&rdquo; muttered the other, once or twice; and
+then, standing up with his back to the fire, and his skirts over his arms,
+he went on. &ldquo;Do you want to hear the truth about this affair, or are we
+only to go on sparring with the gloves, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The truth, of course, if such a novel proceeding should not be too much
+of a shock to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I suspect not. I do a little of everything every day just to keep my
+hand in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, go on now, out with this truth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, the truth is,&mdash;I am now speaking confidentially,&mdash;if I
+were you I 'd not press my claim to that appointment,&mdash;do you
+perceive?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not; but perhaps I may when you have explained yourself a little
+more fully.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And,&rdquo; continued he, in the same tone, and as though no interruption had
+occurred, &ldquo;that's the opinion of Halkett, and Doyle, and Jocelyn, and the
+rest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Confidentially, of course,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a sneer so slight as not to
+be detected.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I may say confidentially, because it was at dinner we talked it over, and
+we were only the household,&mdash;no guests but Byam Herries and
+Barrington.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you all agreed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, there was not a dissentient voice but Jocelyn's, who said, if he
+were in your place, he'd insist on having all the papers and letters given
+up to him. His view is this: 'What security have I that the same charges
+are not to be renewed again and again? I submit now, but am I always to
+submit? Are my Indian'&mdash;(what shall I call them? I forget what he
+called them; I believe it was escapades)&mdash;'my Indian escapades to
+declare me unfit to hold anything under the Crown?' He said a good deal in
+that strain, but we did not see it. It was hard, to be sure, but we did
+not see it. As Halkett said, 'Sewell has had his innings already in India.
+If, with a pretty wife and a neat turn for billiards, he did not lay by
+enough to make his declining years comfortable, I must say that he was not
+provident.' Doyle, however, remarked that after that affair with Loftus up
+at Agra&mdash;wasn't it Agra?&rdquo;&mdash;Sewell nodded&mdash;&ldquo;it was n't so
+easy for you to get along as many might think, and that you were a
+devilish clever fellow to do what you had done. Doyle likes you, I think.&rdquo;
+ Sewell nodded again, and, after a slight pause, Balfour proceeded: &ldquo;And it
+was Doyle, too, said, 'Why not try for something in the colonies? There
+are lots of places a man can go and nothing be ever heard of him. If I was
+Sewell, I 'd say, Make me a barrackmaster in the Sandwich Islands, or a
+consul in the Caraccas.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They all concurred in one thing, that you never did so weak a thing in
+your whole life as to have any dealings with Trafford. It was his mother
+went to the Duke&mdash;ay, into the private office at the Horse Guards&mdash;and
+got Clifford's appointment cancelled, just for a miserable five hundred
+pounds Jack won off the elder brother,&mdash;that fellow who died last
+year at Madeira. She's the most dangerous woman in Europe. She does not
+care what she says, nor to whom she says it. She 'd go up to the Queen at
+a drawing-room and make a complaint as soon as she 'd speak to you or me.
+As it is, she told their Excellencies here all that went on in your house,
+and I suppose scores of things that did not go on either, and said, 'And
+are you going to permit this man to be'&mdash;she did not remember what,
+but she said&mdash;'a high official under the Crown? and are you going to
+receive his wife amongst your intimates?' What a woman she is! To hear her
+you 'd think her 'dear child,' instead of being a strapping fellow of six
+feet two, was a brat in knickerbockers, with a hat and feather. The fellow
+himself must be a consummate muff to be bullied by her; but then the
+estate is not entailed, they say, and there's a younger brother may come
+into it all. His chances look well just now, for Lionel has got a relapse,
+and the doctors think very ill of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had not heard that,&rdquo; said Sewell, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, he was getting on most favorably,&mdash;was able to sit up at the
+window, and move a little about the room,&mdash;when, one morning Lady
+Trafford had driven over to the Lodge to luncheon, he stepped downstairs
+in his dressing-gown as he was, got into a cab, and drove off into the
+country. All the cabman could tell was that he ordered him to take the
+road to Rathfarnham, and said, 'I 'll tell you by and by where to;' and at
+last he said, 'Where does Sir William Lendrick live?' and though the man
+knew the Priory, he had taken a wrong turn and got down to ask the road.
+Just at this moment a carriage drove by with two grays and a postilion&mdash;A
+young lady was inside with an elderly gentleman, and the moment Trafford
+saw her he cried out, 'There she is,&mdash;that is she!' As hard as they
+could they hastened after; but they smashed a trace, and lost several
+minutes in repairing it, and as many more in finding out which way the
+carriage had taken. It was to Kingstown, and, as the cabman suspected, to
+catch the packet for Holyhead; for just as they drove up, the steamer
+edged away from the pier, and the carriage with the grays drove off with
+only the old man, Trafford fell back in a faint, and appeared to have
+continued so, for when they took him out of the cab at Bilton's he was
+insensible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie says he'll come through it, but Maclin thinks he 'll never be the
+same man again; he 'll have a hardening or a softening&mdash;which is it?&mdash;of
+the brain, and that he'll be fit for nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Except a place in the viceregal household, perhaps. I don't imagine you
+want gold-medallists for your gentlemen-in-waiting?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have some monstrous clever fellows, let me tell you. Halkett made a
+famous examination at Sandhurst, and Jocelyn wrote that article in 'Bell's
+Life,' 'The Badger Drawn at Last.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To come back to where we were, how are you to square matters with the
+Chief Baron? Are you going to law with him about this appointment, or are
+you about to say that <i>I</i> am the objection? Let me have a definite
+answer to this question.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have not fully decided; we think of doing either, and we sometimes
+incline to do both. At all events, we are not to have it; that's the only
+thing certain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you got a cigar? No, not these things; I mean something that can be
+smoked.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Try this,&rdquo; said Balfour, offering his case.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're the same as those on the chimney. I must say, Balfour, the
+traditional hospitalities of the Castle are suffering in their present
+hands. When I dined here the last time I was in town, they gave me two
+glasses of bad sherry and one glass of a corked Gladstone; and I came to
+dinner that day after reading in Barrington all about the glorious
+festivities of the Irish Court in the olden days of Richmond and Bedford.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Trafford insists that your names&mdash;your wife's as well as your
+own&mdash;are to be scratched from the dinner-list. Sir Hugh has three
+votes in the House, and she bullies us to some purpose, I can tell you. I
+can't think how you could have made this woman so much your enemy. It is
+not dislike,&mdash;it is hatred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bad luck, I suppose,&rdquo; said Sewell, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She seems so inveterate too; she'll not give you up, very probably.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Women generally don't weary in this sort of pursuit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn't you come to some kind of terms? Couldn't you contrive to let her
+know that you have no designs on her boy? You've won money of him, have
+n't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have some bills of his,&mdash;not for a very large amount, though; you
+shall have them a bargain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I seldom speculate,&rdquo; was the dry rejoinder.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right; nor is this the case to tempt you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 'll be paid, I take it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Paid! I'll swear they shall!&rdquo; said Sewell, fiercely. &ldquo;I'll stand a deal
+of humbug about dinner invitations, and cold salutations, and such-like;
+but none, sir, not one, about what touches a material interest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not worth being angry about,&rdquo; said Balfour, who was really glad to
+see the other's imperturbability give way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm not angry. I was only a little impatient, as a man may be when he
+hears a fellow utter a truism as a measure of encouragement. Tell your
+friends&mdash;I suppose I must call them your friends&mdash;that they make
+an egregious mistake when they push a man like me to the wall. It is
+intelligible enough in a woman to do it; women don't measure their
+malignity, nor their means of gratifying it; but <i>men</i> ought to know
+better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I incline to think I'll tell my 'friends' nothing whatever on the
+subject.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's as you please; but remember this,&mdash;if the day should come
+that I need any of these, details you have given me this morning, I'll
+quote them, and you too, as their author; and if I bring an old house
+about your ears, look out sharp for a falling chimney-pot! You gave me a
+piece of advice awhile ago,&rdquo; continued he, as he put on his hat before the
+glass, and arranged his necktie. &ldquo;Let me repay you with two, which you
+will find useful in their several ways: Don't show your hand when you play
+with as shrewd men as myself; and, Don't offer a friend such execrable
+tobacco as that on the chimney;&rdquo; and with this he nodded and strolled out,
+humming an air as he crossed the Castle yard and entered the city.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLI. THE PRIORY IN ITS DESERTION
+</h2>
+<p>
+The old Judge was very sad after Lucy's departure from the Priory. While
+she lived there they had not seen much of each other, it is true. They met
+at meal-times, and now and then Sir William would send up the housekeeper
+to announce a visit from him; but there is a sense of companionship in the
+consciousness that under the same roof with you dwells one upon whose
+affection you can draw, whose sympathy will be with you in your hour of
+need; and this the old man now felt to be waiting; and he wandered
+restlessly about the house and the garden, tenacious to see that nothing
+she liked or loved was threatened with any change, and repeating to all
+that she must find everything as she left it when she came back again.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell had been recalled to the country by the illness of his child, and
+they were not expected at the Priory for at least a week or two longer.
+Haire had gone on circuit, and even Beattie the Judge only saw hurriedly
+and at long intervals. With Lady Lendrick he had just had a most angry
+correspondence, ending in one of those estrangements which, had they been
+nations instead of individuals, would have been marked by the recall of
+their several envoys, but which they were satisfied to signalize by an
+order at the Priory gate-lodge not to admit her Ladyship's carriage, and
+an equally determined command at Merrion Square for the porter to take in
+no letters that came from the Chief Baron.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lest the world should connect this breach with any interest in my story, I
+may as well declare at once the incident had no possible bearing upon it.
+It was a little episode entirely self-contained, and consisted in Lady
+Lendrick having taken advantage of Sir William's illness and confinement
+to house to send for and use his carriage-horses,&mdash;a liberty which he
+resented by a most furious letter, to which the rejoinder begot another
+infinitely more sarcastic,&mdash;the correspondence ending by a printed
+notice which her Ladyship received in an envelope, that the Chief Baron's
+horses would be sold on the ensuing Saturday at Dycer's to the highest
+bidder, his Lordship having no further use for them.
+</p>
+<p>
+Let me own that the old Judge was sincerely sorry when this incident was
+concluded. So long as the contest lasted, while he was penning his epistle
+or waiting for the reply, his excitement rallied and sustained him. He
+used to sit after the despatch of one of his cutting letters calculating
+with himself the terror and consternation it produced, just as the captain
+of a frigate might have waited with eager expectancy that the smoke might
+drift away and show him the shattered spars or the yawning bulwarks of his
+enemy. But when his last missive was returned unopened, and the messenger
+reported that the doctor's carriage was at her Ladyship's door as he came
+away, the Judge collapsed at once, and all the dreariness of his deserted
+condition closed in upon him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Till Sewell returned to-town, Sir William resolved not to proceed farther
+with respect to the registrarship. His plan, long determined upon, was to
+induct him into the office, administer the oaths, and leave him to the
+discharge of the duties. The scandal of displacing an official would, he
+deemed, be too great a hazard for any government to risk. At all events,
+if such a conflict came, it would be a great battle, and with the nation
+for spectators.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The country shall ring with it,&rdquo; was the phrase he kept repeating over
+and over as he strolled through his neglected garden or his leafy
+shrubberies; but as he plodded along, alone and in silence, the dreary
+conviction would sometimes shoot across his mind that he had run his race,
+and that the world had wellnigh forgotten him. &ldquo;In a few days more,&rdquo;
+ sighed he out, &ldquo;it will be over, and I shall be chronicled as the last of
+them.&rdquo; And for a moment it would rally him to recall the glorious names
+with which he claimed companionship, and compare them&mdash;with what
+disparagement!&mdash;with the celebrities of the time.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was strange how bright the lamp of intellect would shine out as the
+wick was fast sinking in the socket. His memory would revive some stormy
+scene in the House, some violent altercation at the Bar, and all the fiery
+eloquence of passion would recur to him, stirring his heart and warming
+his blood, till he half forgot his years, and stood forth, with head erect
+and swelling chest, strong with a sense of power and a whole soul full of
+ambition.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie would not let me take my Circuit,&rdquo; would he say. &ldquo;I wish he saw
+me to-day. Decaying powers! I would tell them that the Coliseum is grander
+in its ruin than all their stuccoed plastering in its trim propriety. Had
+he suffered me to go, the grand jury would have heard a charge such as
+men's ears have not listened to since Avonmore! Avon-more! what am I
+saying?&mdash;Yelverton had not half my law, nor a tenth part of my
+eloquence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+In his self-exaltation he began to investigate whether he was greater as
+an advocate or as prosecutor. How difficult to decide! After all, it was
+in the balance of the powers thus displayed that he was great as a judge.
+He recalled the opinions of the press when he was raised to the bench, and
+triumphantly asked aloud, had he not justified every hope and contradicted
+every fear that was entertained of him? &ldquo;Has my learning made me
+intolerant, or my brilliancy led me into impatience? Has the sense of
+superiority that I possess rendered me less conciliatory? Has my
+'impetuous genius'&mdash;how fond they were of that phrase!&mdash;carried
+me away into boundless indiscretions? and have I, as one critic said, so
+concentrated the attention of the jury on myself that the evidence went
+for nothing and the charge was everything?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was strange how these bursts of inordinate vanity and self-esteem
+appeared to rally and invigorate the old man, redressing, as it were, the
+balance of the world's injustice&mdash;such he felt it&mdash;towards him.
+They were like a miser's hoard, to be counted and re-counted in secret
+with that abiding assurance that he had wealth and riches, however others
+might deem him poor.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was out of these promptings of self-love that he drew the energetic
+powers that sustained him, broken and failing and old as he was.
+</p>
+<p>
+Carried on by his excited thoughts, he strayed away to a little mound, on
+which, under a large weeping-ash, a small bench was placed, from which a
+wide view extended over the surrounding country. There was a tradition of
+a summer-house on the spot in Curran's day, and it was referred to more
+than once in the diaries and letters of his friends; and the old Chief
+loved the place, as sacred to great memories.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had just toiled up the ascent, and gained the top, when a servant came
+to present him with a card and a letter, saying that the gentleman who
+gave them was then at the house. The card bore the name, &ldquo;Captain
+Trafford,&mdash;th Regiment.&rdquo; The letter was of a few lines, and ran thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Sir William,&mdash;I had promised my friend and late patient
+Captain Trafford to take him over to the Priory this morning and present
+him to you. A sudden call has, however, frustrated the arrangement; and as
+his time is very brief, I have given him this as a credential to your
+acquaintance, and I hope you will permit him to stroll through the garden
+and the shrubberies, which he will accept as a great favor. I especially
+beg that you will lay no burden on your own strength to become his
+entertainer: he will be amply gratified by a sight of your belongings, of
+which he desires to carry the memory beyond seas.&mdash;Believe me very
+sincerely yours,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;J. Beattie.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the gentleman who brought this will do me the favor to come up here,
+say I shall be happy to see him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As the servant went on his message, the old man lay back on his seat, and,
+closing his eyes, muttered some few dropping words, implying his
+satisfaction at this act of reverential homage. &ldquo;A young soldier too; it
+speaks well for the service when the men of action revere the men of
+thought. I am glad it is a good day with me; he shall carry away other
+memories than of woods and streams. Ah! here he comes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Slowly, and somewhat feebly, Trafford ascended the hill, and with a most
+respectful greeting approached the Judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thank you for your courtesy in coming here, sir,&rdquo; said the Chief; &ldquo;and
+when we have rested a little, I will be your <i>Cicerone</i> back to the
+house.&rdquo; The conversation flowed on pleasantly between them, Sir William
+asking where Traflford had served, and what length of time he had been in
+Ireland,&mdash;his inquiries evidently indicating that he had not heard of
+him before, or, if he had, had forgotten him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now you are going to Malta?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord; we sail on the 12th.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, Valetta has no view to rival that. See what a noble sweep the
+bay takes here, and mark how well the bold headlands define the limits!
+Look at that stretch of yellow beach, like a golden fillet round the sea;
+and then mark the rich woods waving in leafy luxuriance to the shore!
+Those massive shadows are to landscape what times of silent thought are to
+our moral natures. Do you like your service, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord; there is much in it that I like. I would like it all if it
+were in 'activity.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have much of the soldier in myself, and the qualities by which I have
+gained any distinction I have won are such as make generals,&mdash;quick
+decision, rapid intelligence, prompt action.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Traflford bowed to this pretentions summary, but did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old Judge went on to describe what he called the military mind,
+reviewing in turn the generals of note from Hannibal down to Marlborough.
+&ldquo;What have they left us by way of legacy, sir? The game, lost or won,
+teaches us as much! Is not a letter of Cicero, is not an ode of Horace
+worth it all? And as for battle-fields, it is the painter, not the
+warrior, has made them celebrated. Wouvermans has done more for war than
+Turenne!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, my Lord, there must be a large number of men like myself who make
+very tolerable soldiers, but who would turn out sorry poets or poor
+advocates.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me your arm now, and I will take you round by the fish-pond and show
+you where the 'Monks of the Screw' held their first meeting. You have
+heard of that convivial club?&rdquo; Trafiford bowed; and the Judge went on to
+tell of the strange doings of those grave and thoughtful men, who-deemed
+no absurdity too great in their hours of distraction and levity. When they
+reached the house, the old man was so fatigued that he had to sit down in
+the porch to rest. &ldquo;You have seen all, sir; all I have of memorable. You
+say you 'd like to see the garden, but there is not a memory connected
+with it. See it, however, by all means; saunter about till I have rallied
+a little, and then join me at my early dinner. I 'll send to tell you when
+it is ready. I am sorry it will be such a lonely meal; but she who could
+have thrown sunshine over it is gone&mdash;gone!&rdquo; And he held his hands
+over his face, and said no more. Trafiford moved silently away, and went
+in search of the garden. He soon found the little wicket, and ere many
+minutes was deep in the leafy solitude of the neglected spot. At last he
+came upon the small gate in the laurel hedge, passing through which he
+entered the little flower-garden. Yes, yes; there was no doubting it! This
+was hers! Here were the flowers she tended; here the heavy bells from
+which she emptied the rain-drops; here the tendrils her own hands had
+trained! Oh, force of love, that makes the very ground holy, and gives to
+every leaf and bud an abiding value! He threw himself upon the sward and
+kissed it. There was a little seat under a large ilex&mdash;how often had
+she sat there thinking!&mdash;could it be thinking over the days beside
+the Shannon,&mdash;that delicious night they came back from Holy Island,
+the happiest of all his life? Oh, if he could but believe that she loved
+him! if he could only know that she did not think of him with anger and
+resentment!&mdash;for she might! Who could tell what might have been said
+of his life at the Sewells'? He had made a confidante of one who assumed
+to misunderstand him, and who overwhelmed him with a confession of her own
+misery, and declared she loved him; and this while he lay in a burning
+fever, his head racked with pain, and his mind on the verge of wandering.
+Was there-ever a harder fate than his? That he had forfeited the affection
+of his family, that he had wrecked his worldly fortunes, seemed little in
+his eyes to the danger of being thought ill of by her he loved.
+</p>
+<p>
+His father's last letter to him had been a command to leave the army and
+return home, to live there as became the expectant head of the house. &ldquo;I
+will have your word of honor to abandon this ignoble passion&rdquo;&mdash;so he
+called his love; &ldquo;and in addition, your solemn pledge never to marry an
+Irishwoman.&rdquo; These words were, he well knew, supplied by his mother. It
+had been the incessant burden of her harangues to him during the tedious
+days of his recovery; and even when, on the morning of this very day, she
+had been suddenly recalled to England by a severe attack of illness of her
+husband, her last act before departure was to write a brief note to
+Lionel, declaring that if he should not follow her within a week, she
+would no longer conceive herself bound to maintain his interests against
+those of his more obedient and more affectionate brother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Won't that help my recovery, doctor?&rdquo; said he, showing the kind and
+generous epistle to Beattie. &ldquo;Are not these the sort of tonic stimulants
+your art envies?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie shook his head in silence, and after a long pause said, &ldquo;Well,
+what was your reply to this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you doubt it? Don't you know it; or don't you know <i>me?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps I guess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, but you are certain of it, doctor. The regiment is ordered to Malta,
+and sails on the 12th. I go with them! Holt is a grand old place, and the
+estate is a fine one; I wish my brother every luck with both. Will you do
+me a favor,&mdash;a great favor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If in my power, you may be certain I will. What is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take me over to the Priory; I want to see it. You can find some pretext
+to present me to the Chief Baron, and obtain his leave to wander through
+the grounds.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I perceive&mdash;I apprehend,&rdquo; said Beattie, slyly. &ldquo;There is no
+difficulty in this. The old Judge cherishes the belief that the spot is
+little short of sacred; he only wonders why men do not come as pilgrims to
+visit it. There is a tradition of Addison having lived there, while
+secretary in Ireland; Curran certainly did; and a greater than either now
+illustrates the locality.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was thus that Trafford came to be there; with what veneration for the
+haunts of genius let the reader picture to himself!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Lordship is waiting dinner, sir,&rdquo; said a servant, abruptly, as he sat
+there&mdash;thinking, thinking; and he arose and followed the man to the
+house.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Chief Baron had spent the interval since they parted in preparing for
+the evening's display. To have for his guest a youth so imbued with
+reverence for Irish genius and ability, was no common event. Young
+Englishmen and soldiers, too, were not usually of this stuff; and the
+occasion to make a favorable impression was not to be lost.
+</p>
+<p>
+When he entered the dinner-room, Trafford was struck by seeing that the
+table was laid for three, though they were but two; and that on the napkin
+opposite to where he sat a small bouquet of fresh flowers was placed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My granddaughter's place, sir,&rdquo; said the old Judge, as he caught his eye.
+&ldquo;It is reserved for her return. May it be soon!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+How gentle the old man's voice sounded as he said this, and how kindly his
+eyes beamed! Trafford thought there was something actually attractive in
+his features, and wondered he had not remarked it before.
+</p>
+<p>
+Perhaps on that day when the old Judge well knew how agreeable he was,
+what stores of wit and pleasantry he was pouring forth, his convictions
+assured him that his guest was charmed. It was a very pardonable delusion,&mdash;he
+talked with great brilliancy and vigor. He possessed the gift&mdash;which
+would really seem to be the especial gift of Irishmen of that day&mdash;to
+be a perfect relater. To a story he imparted that slight dash of dramatic
+situation and dialogue that made it lifelike, and yet never retarded the
+interest nor prolonged the catastrophe. Acute as was his wit, his taste
+was fully as conspicuous, never betraying him for an instant, so long as
+his personal vanity could be kept out of view.
+</p>
+<p>
+Trafford's eager and animated attention showed with what pleasure he
+listened; and the Chief, like all men who love to talk and know they talk
+well, talked all the better for the success vouchsafed to him. He even
+arrived at that stage of triumph in which he felt that his guest was no
+common man, and wondered if England really turned out many young fellows
+of this stamp,&mdash;so well read, so just, so sensible, so keenly alive
+to nice distinction, and so unerring in matters of taste.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You were schooled at Rugby, sir, you told me; and Rugby has reason to be
+proud if she can turn out such young men. I am only sorry Oxford should
+not have put the fine edge on so keen an intellect.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Trafford blushed at a compliment he felt to be so unmerited, but the old
+man saw nothing of his confusion,&mdash;he was once again amongst the
+great scenes and actors of his early memories.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you will spare me another day before you leave Ireland. Do you
+think you could give me Saturday?&rdquo; said the Chief, as his guest arose to
+take leave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am afraid not, my Lord; we shall be on the march by that day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Old men have no claim to use the future tense, or I should ask you to
+come and see me when you come back again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed will I. I cannot thank you enough for having asked me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why are there not more young men of that stamp?&rdquo; said the old Judge, as
+he looked after him as he went. &ldquo;Why are they not more generally
+cultivated and endowed as he is? It is long since I have found one more
+congenial to me in every way. I must tell Beattie I like his friend. I
+regret not to see more of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was in this strain Sir William ruminated and reflected; pretty much
+like many of us, who never think our critics so just or so appreciative as
+when they applaud ourselves.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLII. NECESSITIES OP STATE
+</h2>
+<p>
+It is, as regards views of life and the world, a somewhat narrowing
+process to live amongst sympathizers; and it may be assumed as an axiom,
+that no people so much minister to a man's littleness as those who pity
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, when Lady Lendrick separated from Sir William, she carried away with
+her a large following of sympathizers. The Chief Baron was well known; his
+haughty overbearing temper at the bar, his assuming attitude in public
+life, his turn for sarcasm and epigram, had all contributed to raise up
+for him a crowd of enemies; and these, if not individually well disposed
+to Lady Lendrick, could at least look compassionately on one whose
+conjugal fate had been so unfortunate. All <i>her</i> shortcomings were
+lost sight of in presence of <i>his</i> enormities, for the Chief Baron's
+temper was an Aaron's rod of irascibility, which devoured every other; and
+when the verdict was once passed, that &ldquo;no woman could live with him,&rdquo;
+ very few women offered a word in his defence.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is just possible that if it had not been for this weight in the
+opposite scale, Lady Lendrick herself would not have stood so high. Sir
+William's faults, however, were accounted to her for righteousness, and
+she traded on a very pretty capital in consequence. Surrounded by a large
+circle of female friends, she lived in a round of those charitable
+dissipations by which some people amuse themselves; and just as dull
+children learn their English history through a game, and acquire their
+geography through a puzzle, these grown-up children take in their
+Christianity by means of deaf and dumb bazaars, balls for blind
+institutions, and private theatricals for an orphan asylum. This devotion,
+made easy to the lightest disposition, is not, perhaps, a bad theory,&mdash;at
+least, it does not come amiss to an age which likes to attack its gravest
+ills in a playful spirit, to treat consumption with cough lozenges, and
+even moderate the excesses of insanity by soft music. There is another
+good feature, too, in the practice: it furnishes occupation and employment
+to a large floating class which,' for the interest and comfort of society,
+it is far better should be engaged in some pursuit, than left free to the
+indulgence of censorious tastes and critical habits. Lady Lendrick lived a
+sort of monarch amongst these. She was the patroness of this, the
+secretary of that, and the corresponding member of some other society.
+Never was an active intelligence more actively occupied; but she liked it
+all, for she liked power, and, strange as it may seem, there is in a small
+way an exercise of power even in these petty administrations. Loud,
+bustling, overbearing, and meddlesome, she went everywhere, and did
+everything. The only sustaining hope of those she interfered with was that
+she was too capricious to persist in any system of annoyance, and was
+prone to forget to-day the eternal truths she had propounded for reverence
+yesterday.
+</p>
+<p>
+I am not sure that she conciliated&mdash;I am not sure that she would have
+cared for&mdash;much personal attachment; but she had what certainly she
+did like, a large following of very devoted supporters. All her little
+social triumphs&mdash;and occasionally she had such&mdash;were blazoned
+abroad by those people who loved to dwell on the courtly attentions
+bestowed upon their favorite, what distinguished person had taken her
+&ldquo;down&rdquo; to dinner, and the neat compliment that the Viceroy paid her on the
+taste of her &ldquo;tabinet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It need scarcely be remarked that the backwater of all this admiration for
+Lady Lendrick was a swamping tide of ill-favor for her husband. It would
+have been hard to deny him ability and talent. But what had he made of his
+ability and talent? The best lawyer of the bar was not even Chief-Justice
+of the Queen's Bench. The greatest speaker and scholar of his day was
+unknown, except in the reminiscences of a few men almost as old as
+himself. Was the fault in himself, or was the disqualifying element of his
+nature the fact of being an Irishman? For a number of years the former
+theory satisfied all the phenomena of the case, and the restless,
+impatient disposition&mdash;irritable, uncertain, and almost irresponsible&mdash;seemed
+reason enough to deter the various English officials who came over from
+either seeking the counsels or following the suggestions of the bold Baron
+of the Exchequer. A change, however, had come, in pail; induced by certain
+disparaging articles of the English press as to the comparative ability of
+the two countries; and now it became the fashion to say that had Sir
+William been born on the sunnier side of St. George's Channel, and had his
+triumphs been displayed at Westminster instead of the Four Courts, there
+would have been no limit to the praise of his ability as a lawyer, nor any
+delay in according him the highest honors the Crown could bestow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Men shook their heads, recalled the memorable &ldquo;curse&rdquo; recorded by Swift,
+and said, &ldquo;Of course there is no favor for an Irishman.&rdquo; It is not the
+place nor the time to discuss this matter here. I would only say that a
+good deal of the misconception which prevails upon it is owing to the fact
+that the qualities which win all the suffrages of one country are held
+cheaply enough in the other. Plodding unadorned ability, even of a high
+order, meets little favor in Ireland, while on the other side of the
+Channel Irish quickness is accounted as levity, and the rapid appreciation
+of a question without the detail of long labor and thought, is set down as
+the lucky hit of a lively but very idle intelligence. I will not let
+myself wander away further in this digression, but come back to my story.
+Connected with this theory of Irish depreciation, was the position that
+but for the land of his birth Sir William would have been elevated to the
+peerage.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course it was a subject to admit of various modes of telling, according
+to the tastes, the opportunities, and the prejudices of the tellers. The
+popular version of the story, however, was this: that Sir William declined
+to press a claim that could not have been resisted, on account of the
+peculiarly retiring, unambitious character of him who should be his
+immediate successor. His very profession&mdash;adopted and persisted in,
+in despite of his father's wish&mdash;was a palpable renunciation of all
+desire for hereditary honor. As the old Judge said, &ldquo;The <i>Libro d, Oro</i>
+of nobility is not the Pharmacopoeia;&rdquo; and the thought of a doctor in the
+peerage might have cost &ldquo;Garter&rdquo; a fit of apoplexy.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sir William knew this well,&mdash;no man better; but the very difficulties
+gave all the zest and all the flavor to the pursuit. He lived, too, in the
+hope that some Government official might have bethought him of this
+objection, that he might spring on him, tiger-like, and tear him in
+fragments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let them but tell me this,&rdquo; muttered he, &ldquo;and I will rip up the whole
+woof, thread by thread, and trace them! The noble duke whose ancestor was
+a Dutch pedler, the illustrious marquess whose great-grandfather was a
+smuggler, will have to look to it. Before this cause be called on I would
+say to them, better to retain me for the Crown! Ay, sirs, such is my
+advice to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While these thoughts agitated Sir William's mind, the matter of them was
+giving grave and deep preoccupation to the Viceroy. The Cabinet had
+repeatedly pressed upon him the necessity of obtaining the Chief Baron's
+retirement from the bench,&mdash;a measure the more imperative that while
+they wanted to provide for an old adherent, they were equally anxious to
+replace him in the House by an abler and readier debater; for so is it,
+when dulness stops the way, dulness must be promoted,&mdash;just as the
+most tumble-down old hackney-coach must pass on before my Lord's carriage
+can draw up.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pemberton must go up,&rdquo; said the Viceroy. &ldquo;He made a horrid mess of that
+explanation t' other night in the House. His law was laughed at, and his
+logic was worse; he really must go on the bench. Can't you hit upon
+something, Balfour? Can you devise nothing respecting the Chief Baron?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He 'll take nothing but what you won't give him; I hear he insists on the
+peerage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd give it, I declare,&mdash;I 'd give it to-morrow. As I told the
+Premier t' other day, Providence always takes care that these law lords
+have rarely successors. They are life peerages and no more; besides, what
+does it matter a man more or less in 'the Lords'? The peer without
+hereditary rank and fortune is like the officer who has been raised from
+the ranks,&mdash;he does not dine at mess oftener than he can help it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Balfour applauded the illustration, and resolved to use it as his own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say again,&rdquo; continued his Excellency, &ldquo;I'd give it, but they won't
+agree with me; they are afraid of the English bar,&mdash;they dread what
+the benchers of Lincoln's Inn would say.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They'd only say it for a week or two,&rdquo; mumbled Balfour.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I remarked: you'll have discontent, but it will be passing. Some
+newspaper letters will appear, but Themis and Aristides will soon tire,
+and if they should not, the world who reads them will tire; and probably
+the only man who will remember the event three months after will be the
+silversmith who is cresting the covered dishes of the new creation. You
+think you can't go and see him, Balfour?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Impossible, my Lord, after what occurred between us the last time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't take it in that way. I suspect he 'll not bear any malice.
+Lawyers are not thin-skinned people; they give and take such hard knocks
+that they lose that nice sense of injury other folks are endowed with. I
+think you might go.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd rather not, my Lord,&rdquo; said he, shaking his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Try his wife, then.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They don't live together. I don't know if they're on speaking terms.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much the better,&mdash;she'll know every chink of his armor, and
+perhaps tell us where he is vulnerable. Wait a moment. There has been some
+talk of a picnic on Dalkey Island. It was to be a mere household affair.
+What if you were to invite her?&mdash;making of course the explanation
+that it was a family party, that no cards had been sent out; in fact, that
+it was to be so close a thing the world was never to hear of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think the bait would be irresistible, particularly when she found out
+that all her own set and dear friends had been passed over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Charge her to secrecy,&mdash;of course she'll not keep her word.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I say we 'll come for her? The great mystery will be so perfectly in
+keeping with one of the household carriages and your Excellency's
+liveries.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Won't that be too strong, Balfour?&rdquo; said the Viceroy, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing is too strong, my Lord, in this country. They take their blunders
+neat as they do their sherry, and I'm sure that this part of the
+arrangement will, in the gossip it will give rise to, be about the best of
+the whole exploit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take your own way, then; only make no such mistake as you made with the
+husband. No documents, Balfour,&mdash;no documents, I beg;&rdquo; and with this
+warning laughingly given, but by no means so pleasantly taken, his
+Excellency went off and left him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLIII. MR. BALFOUR'S MISSION
+</h2>
+<p>
+Lady Lendrick was dictating to her secretary, Miss Morse, the Annual
+Report of the &ldquo;Benevolent Ballad-Singers' Aid Society,&rdquo; when her servant
+announced the arrival of Mr. Cholmondely Balfour. She stopped abruptly
+short at a pathetic bit of description,&mdash;&ldquo;The aged minstrel, too old
+for erotic poetry, and yet debarred by the stern rules of a repressive
+policy from the strains of patriotic song,&rdquo;&mdash;for, be it said
+parenthetically, Lady Lendrick affected &ldquo;Irishry&rdquo; to a large extent,&mdash;and,
+dismissing Miss Morse to an adjoining room, she desired the servant to
+introduce Mr. Balfour.
+</p>
+<p>
+Is it fancy, or am I right in supposing that English officials have a
+manner specially assumed for Ireland and the Irish,&mdash;a thing like the
+fur cloak a man wears in Russia, or the snowshoes he puts on in Lapland,
+not intended for other latitudes, but admirably adapted for the locality
+it is made for? I will not insist that this theory of mine is faultless,
+but I appeal to a candid public of my own countrmen if they have not in
+their experience seen what may support it. I do not say it is a bad
+manner,&mdash;a presuming manner,&mdash;a manner of depreciation towards
+these it is used to, or a manner indicative of indifference in him who
+uses it. I simply say that they who employ it keep it as especially for
+Ireland as they keep their macintosh capes for wet weather, and would no
+more think of displaying it in England than they would go to her Majesty's
+levee in a shooting-jacket. Mr. Balfour was not wanting in this manner.
+Indeed, the Administration of which he formed a humble part were all
+proficients in it. It was a something between a mock homage and a very
+jocular familiarity, so that when he arose after a bow, deep and
+reverential enough for the presence of majesty, he lounged over to a chair
+and threw himself down with the ease and unconcern of one perfectly at
+home.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how is my Lady? and how are the fourscore and one associations for
+turnkeys' widows and dog-stealers' orphans doing? What 's the last new
+thing in benevolence? Do tell me, for I 've won five shillings at loo, and
+want to invest it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean you have drawn your quarter's salary, Mr. Balfour.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, by Jove; they don't pay us so liberally. We have the run of our teeth
+and no more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You forget your tongue, sir; you are unjust.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, my Lady, you are as quick as Sir William himself; living with that
+great wit has made you positively dangerous.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not enjoyed over-much of the opportunity you speak of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I know that; no fault of yours, though. The world is agreed on that
+point. I take it he's about the most impossible man to live with the age
+has yet produced. Sewell has told me such things of him!&mdash;things that
+would be incredible if I had not seen him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg pardon for interrupting, but of course you have not come to dilate
+on the Chief Baron's defects of temper to his wife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, only incidentally,&mdash;parenthetically, as one may say,&mdash;just
+as one knocks over a hare when he's out partridge-shooting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind the hare, then, sir; keep to your partridges.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My partridges! my partridges! which are my partridges? Oh, to be sure! I
+want to talk to you about Sewell. He has told you perhaps how ill we have
+behaved to him,&mdash;grossly, shamefully ill, I call it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has told me that the Government object to his having this appointment,
+but he has not explained on what ground.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Neither can I. Official life has its mysteries, and, hate them as one
+may, they must be respected; he ought n't to have sold out,&mdash;it was
+rank folly to sell out. What could he have in the world better than a
+continued succession of young fellows fresh from home, and knowing
+positively nothing of horse-flesh or billiards?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't understand you, sir,&mdash;that is, I hope I misunderstand you,&rdquo;
+ said she, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean simply this, that I'd rather be a lieutenant-colonel with such
+opportunities than I 'd be Chairman of the Great Overland.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Opportunities&mdash;and for what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For everything,&mdash;for everything; for game off the balls, on every
+race in the kingdom, and as snug a thing every night over a devilled
+kidney as any man could wish for. Don't look shocked,&mdash;it's all on
+the square; that old hag that was here last week would have given her
+diamond ear-rings to find out something against Sewell, and she could
+n't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean Lady Trafford?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do. She stayed a week here just to blacken his character, and she never
+could get beyond that story of her son and Mrs. Sewell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What story? I never heard of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A lie, of course, from beginning to end; and it's hard to imagine that
+she herself believed it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what was it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, a trumpery tale of young Trafford having made love to Mrs. Sewell,
+and proposed to run off with her, and Sewell having played a game at
+écarté on it, and lost,&mdash;the whole thing being knocked up by
+Trafford's fall. But you must have heard it! The town talked of nothing
+else for a fortnight.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The town never had the insolence to talk of it to <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a stupid town! If there be anything really that can be said to be
+established in the code of society, it is that you may say anything to
+anybody about their relations. But for such a rule how could conversation
+go on?&mdash;who travels about with his friend's family-tree in his
+pocket? And as to Sewell,&mdash;I suppose I may say it,&mdash;he has not a
+truer friend in the world than myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She bowed a very stiff acknowledgment of the speech, and he went on: &ldquo;I 'm
+not going to say he gets on well with his wife,&mdash;but who does? Did
+you ever hear of him who did? The fact I take to be this, that every one
+has a certain capital of good-nature and kindliness to trade on, and he
+who expends this abroad can't have so much of it for home consumption;
+that's how your insufferable husbands are such charming fellows for the
+world! Don't you agree with me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A very chilling smile, that might mean anything, was all her reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was there all the time,&rdquo; continued he, with unabated fluency. &ldquo;I saw
+everything that went on: Sewell's policy was what our people call
+non-intervention; he saw nothing, heard nothing, believed nothing; and I
+will say there 's a great deal of dignity in that line; and when your
+servant comes to wake you in the morning, with the tidings that your wife
+has run away, you have established a right before the world to be
+distracted, injured, overwhelmed, and outraged to any extent you may feel
+disposed to appear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your thoughts upon morals are, I must say, very edifying, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're always practical, so much I will say. This world is a composite
+sort of thing, with such currents of mixed motives running through it, if
+a man tries to be logical he is sure to make an ass of himself, and one
+learns at last to become as flexible in his opinions and as elastic as the
+great British constitution.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am delighted with your liberality, sir, and charmed with your candor;
+and as you have expressed your opinion so freely upon my husband and my
+son, would it appear too great a favor if I were to ask what you would say
+of myself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That you are charming, Lady Lendrick,&mdash;positively charming,&rdquo; replied
+he, rapturously. &ldquo;That there is not a grace of manner, nor a captivation,
+of which you are not mistress; that you possess that attraction which
+excels all others in its influence; you render all who come within the
+sphere of your fascination so much your slaves that the cold grow
+enthusiastic, the distrustful become credulous, and even the cautious
+reserve of office gives way, and the well-trained private secretary of a
+Viceroy betrays himself into indiscretions that would half ruin an
+aide-de-camp.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you, sir, I never so much as suspected my own powers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;True as I am here; the simple fact is, I have come to say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have come to say so! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+With this he proceeded to explain that her Excellency had deputed him to
+invite Lady Lendrick to join the picnic on the island. &ldquo;It was so
+completely a home party, that, except himself and a few of the household,
+none had even heard of it. None but those really intimate will be there,&rdquo;
+ said he; &ldquo;and for once in our lives we shall be able to discuss our absent
+friends with that charming candor that gives conversation its salt. When
+we had written down all the names, it was her Excellency said, 'I 'd call
+this perfect if I could add one more to the list.' 'I'll swear I know whom
+you mean,' said his Excellency; and he took his pencil and wrote a line on
+a card. 'Am I right?' asked he. She nodded, and said, 'Balfour, go and ask
+her to come. Be sure you explain what the whole thing is, how it was got
+up, and that it must not be talked of.' Of course, do what one will, these
+things do get about. Servants will talk of them, and tradespeople talk of
+them, and we must expect a fair share of ill-nature and malice from that
+outer world which was not included in the civility; but it can't be
+helped. I believe it's one of the conditions of humanity, that to make one
+man happy you may always calculate on making ten others miserable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This time Lady Lendrick had something else to think of besides Mr.
+Balfour's ethics, and so she only smiled and said nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope I 'm to bring back a favorable answer,&rdquo; said he, rising to take
+leave. &ldquo;Won't you let me say that we 're to call for you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I really am much flattered. I don't know how to express my grateful sense
+of their Excellencies' recollection of me. It is for Wednesday, you say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Wednesday. We mean to leave town by two o'clock, and there will be a
+carriage here for you by that hour. Will that suit you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perfectly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am overjoyed at my success. Good-bye till Wednesday, then.&rdquo; He moved
+towards the door, and then stopped. &ldquo;What was it? I surely had something
+else to say. Oh, to be sure, I remember. Tell me, if you can, what are Sir
+William's views about retirement: he is not quite pleased with us just
+now, and we can't well approach him; but we really would wish to meet his
+wishes, if we could manage to come at them.&rdquo; All this he said in a sort of
+careless, easy way, as though it were a matter of little moment, or one
+calling for very slight exercise of skill to set right.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you imagine he has taken me into his confidence, Mr. Balfour?&rdquo;
+ asked she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not formally, perhaps,&mdash;not what we call officially; but he may have
+done so in that more effective way termed 'officiously.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not even that. I could probably make as good a guess about your own
+future intentions as those of the Chief Baron.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have heard him talk of them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Scores of times.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And in what tone,&mdash;with what drift?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Always as that of one very ill-used, hardly treated, undervalued, and the
+like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the remedy? What was the remedy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To make him a peer,&mdash;at least, so his friends say.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But taking that to be impossible, what next?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He becomes 'impossible' also,&rdquo; said she, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are we to imagine that a man of such intelligence as he possesses cannot
+concede something to circumstances,&mdash;cannot make allowances for the
+exigencies of 'party,'&mdash;cannot, in fact, take any other view of a
+difficulty but the one that must respond to his own will?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I think that is exactly what you are called on to imagine. You are
+to persuade yourself to regard this earth as inhabited by the Chief Baron,
+and some other people not mentioned specifically in the census.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is most unreasonable, then.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course he is; but I wouldn't have you tell him so. You see, Mr.
+Balfour, the Chief imagines all this while that he is maintaining and
+upholding the privileges of the Irish Bar. The burden of his song is,
+'There would have been no objection to my claim had I been the Chief Baron
+of the English Court.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly,&rdquo; murmured Balfour; and then, lower again, &ldquo;Fleas are not&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite true,&rdquo; said she, for her quick ear caught his words,&mdash;&ldquo;quite
+true. Fleas are not lobsters,&mdash;bless their souls! But, as I said
+before, I 'd not remind them of that fact. 'The Fleas' are just sore
+enough upon it already.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Balfour for once felt some confusion. He saw what a slip he had made, and
+now it had damaged his whole negotiation. Nothing but boldness would avail
+now, and he resolved to be bold.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is a thing has been done in England, and I don't see why we might
+not attempt it in the present case. A great lawyer there obtained a
+peerage for his wife&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She burst out into a fit of laughter at this, at once so hearty and so
+natural that at last he could not help joining, and laughing too.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must say, Mr. Balfour,&rdquo; said she, as soon as she could speak,&mdash;&ldquo;I
+must say there is ingenuity in your suggestion. The relations that subsist
+between Sir William and myself are precisely such as to recommend your
+project.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not so sure that they are obstacles to it. I have always heard that
+he had a poor opinion of his son, who was a common-place sort of man that
+studied medicine. It could be no part of the Chief Baron's plan to make
+such a person the head of a house. Now, he likes Sewell, and he dotes on
+that boy,&mdash;the little fellow I saw at the Priory. These are all
+elements in the scheme. Don't you think so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me ask you one question before I answer yours: Does this thought come
+from yourself alone, or has it any origin in another quarter?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to be candid?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are <i>you</i> to be confidential?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that case,&rdquo; said he, drawing a long breath, as though about to remove
+a perilous weight off his mind, &ldquo;I will tell you frankly, it comes from
+authority. Now, don't ask me more,&mdash;not another question. I have
+already avowed what my instructions most imperatively forbid me to own,&mdash;what,
+in fact, would be ruin to me if it were known that I revealed. What his
+Excellency&mdash;I mean, what the other person said was, 'Ascertain Lady
+Lendrick's wishes on this subject; learn, if you can,&mdash;but, above
+all, without compromising yourself,&mdash;whether she really cares for a
+step in rank; find out, if so, what aid she can or will lend us.' But what
+am I saying? Here am I entering upon the whole detail? What would become
+of me if I did not know I might rely upon you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's worth thinking over,&rdquo; said she, after a pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think it is. It is not every day of our lives such a brilliant
+offer presents itself. All I ask, all I stipulate for, is that you make no
+confidences, ask no advice from any quarter. Think it well over in your
+own mind, but impart it to none, least of all to Sewell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not to <i>him</i>,&rdquo; said she, resolutely, for she knew well to
+what purposes he would apply the knowledge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember that we want to have the resignation before Parliament meets,&mdash;bear
+that in mind. Time is all-important with us; the rest will follow in due
+course.&rdquo; With this he said &ldquo;Good-bye,&rdquo; and was gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The rest will follow in due course,&rdquo; said she to herself, repeating his
+last words as he went. &ldquo;With your good leave, Mr. Balfour, the 'rest'
+shall precede the beginning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Was n't it Bolingbroke that said constitutional government never could go
+on without lying,&mdash;audacious lying too? If the old Judge will only
+consent to go, her Ladyship's peerage will admit of a compromise. Such was
+Mr. Balfour's meditation as he stepped into his cab.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLIV. AFTER-DINNER THOUGHTS
+</h2>
+<p>
+Her Majesty's&mdash;th had got their orders for Malta, and some surmised
+for India, though it was not yet known; but all agreed it was hard,&mdash;&ldquo;confoundedly
+hard,&rdquo; they called it. &ldquo;Had n't they had their turn of Inidan service?&mdash;how
+many years had that grim old major passed in the Deccan,&mdash;what weary
+winters had the bronzed bald captain there spent at Rangoon!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+How they inveighed against the national niggardliness that insisted on
+making a small army do the work of a large one! How they scouted the
+popular idea that regiments were treated alike and without favoritism! <i>They</i>
+knew better. They knew that if they had been the Nine Hundred and Ninth,
+or Three Thousand and First, there would have been no thought of sending
+them back to cholera and jungle fever. Some, with a little sly flattery,
+ascribed the order to their efficiency, and declared that they had done
+their work so well at Gonurshabad, the Government selected them at once
+when fresh troubles were threatening; and a few old grumblers, tired of
+service, sick of the Horse Guards,&mdash;not over-enamored of even life,&mdash;agreed
+that it was rank folly to join a regiment where the Lieutenant-Colonel was
+not a man of high connections; as they said, &ldquo;If old Cave there had been a
+Lord George or even an Honorable, we 'd have had ten years more of home
+service.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+With the exception of two or three raw subalterns who had never been out
+of England, and who wanted the glory of pig-sticking and the brevet to
+tell tiger stories, there were gloom and depression everywhere. The
+financially gifted complained that as they had all or nearly all bought
+their commissions, there was no comparison between the treatment
+administered to them and to officers in any foreign army; and such as knew
+geography asked triumphantly whether a Frenchman, who could be only sent
+to Africa, or an Austrian, whose most remote banishment was the &ldquo;Banat,&rdquo;
+ was in the same position as an unfortunate Briton, who could be despatched
+to patrol the North Pole to-day, and to-morrow relieve guard at New
+Zealand? By a unanimous vote it was carried that the English army was the
+worst paid, hardest worked, and most ill-treated service in Europe; but
+the roast-beef played just at the moment, and they went in to dinner.
+</p>
+<p>
+As the last bars of that prandial melody were dying away, two men crossed
+the barrack-yard towards the mess-house. They were in close confabulation,
+and although evidently on their way to dinner, showed by their loitering
+pace how much more engrossed they were by the subject that engaged them
+than by any desire for the pleasures of the table. They were Colonel Cave
+and Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can scarcely picture to my mind as great a fool as that,&rdquo; said Sewell,
+angrily. &ldquo;Can you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; said Cave, slowly and doubtingly. &ldquo;First of all, I never
+was heir to a large estate; and, secondly, I was never, that I remember,
+in love.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In love! in fiddlestick. Why, he has not seen the girl this year and
+half; he scarcely knows her. I doubt greatly if she cares a straw for him;
+and for a caprice&mdash;a mere caprice&mdash;to surrender his right to a
+fine fortune and a good position is absolute idiocy; but I tell you more,
+Cave, though worse&mdash;far worse.&rdquo; Here his voice grew harsh and
+grating, as he continued: &ldquo;When I and other men like me played with
+Trafford, we betted with the man who was to inherit Holt. When I asked the
+fellow to my house, and suffered a certain intimacy&mdash;for I never
+liked him&mdash;it was because he represented twelve thousand a year in
+broad acres. I 'd stand a good deal from a man like that, that I 'd soon
+pull another up for,&mdash;eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The interrogative here puzzled Cave, who certainly was not a concurring
+party to the sentiment, and yet did not want to make it matter of
+discussion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We shall be late,&mdash;we've lost our soup already,&rdquo; said he, moving
+more briskly forward.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd no more have let that fellow take on him, as he did under my roof,
+than I 'd sufifer him to kennel his dogs in my dressing-room. You don't
+know&mdash;you can't know&mdash;how he behaved.&rdquo; These words were spoken
+in passionate warmth, and still there was that in the speaker's manner
+that showed a want of real earnestness; so it certainly seemed to Cave,
+who secretly determined to give no encouragement to further disclosures.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are things,&rdquo; resumed Sewell, &ldquo;that a man can't speak on,&mdash;at
+least, he can only speak of them when they become the talk of the town.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come along, I want my dinner. I'm not sure I have not a guest, besides,
+who does not know any of our fellows. I only remembered him this instant.
+Is n't this Saturday?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One thing I 'll swear,&mdash;he shall pay me every shilling he owes me,
+or he does not sail with the regiment. I 'll stand no nonsense of
+renewals; if he has to sell out for it, he shall book up. You have told
+him, I hope, he has nothing to expect from my forbearance?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We can talk this all over another time. Come along now,&mdash;we 're very
+late.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go on, then, and eat your dinner; leave me to my cigar&mdash;I 've no
+appetite. I 'll drop in when you have dined.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; you shall come too,&mdash;your absence will only make fellows
+talk; they are talking already.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are they? and in what way?&rdquo; asked he, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing seriously, of course,&rdquo; mumbled Cave, for he saw how he had fallen
+into an indiscretion; &ldquo;but you must come, and you must be yourself too.
+It's the only way to meet flying rumors.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come along, then,&rdquo; said Sewell, passing his arm within the other's; and
+they hurried forward without another word being spoken by either.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was evident that Sewell's appearance caused some surprise. There was a
+certain awkward significance in the way men looked at him and at each
+other that implied astonishment at his presence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I didn't know you were down here,&rdquo; said the old Major, making an
+involuntary explanation of his look of wonderment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing very remarkable, I take it, that a man is stopping at his own
+house,&rdquo; said Se well, testily. &ldquo;No&mdash;no fish. Get me some mutton,&rdquo;
+ added he to the mess-waiter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have heard that we 've got our orders,&rdquo; said a captain opposite him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; Cave told me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I rather like it,&mdash;that is, if it means India,&rdquo; said a very
+young-looking ensign.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell put up his eye-glass and looked at the speaker, and then, letting
+it drop, went on with his dinner without a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's no man can tell you more about Bengal than Colonel Sewell
+there,&rdquo; said Cave, to some one near him. &ldquo;He served on the staff there,
+and knows every corner of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I did n't, with all my heart. It's a sort of knowledge that costs
+a man pretty dearly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've always been told India was a capital place,&rdquo; said a gay,
+frank-looking young lieutenant, &ldquo;and that if a man did n't drink, or take
+to high play, he could get on admirably.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor entangle himself with a pretty woman,&rdquo; added another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor raise a smashing loan from the Agra Bank,&rdquo; cried a third.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are the very wisest young gentlemen it has ever been my privilege to
+sit down with,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a grin. &ldquo;Whence could you have gleaned
+all these prudent maxims?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I got mine,&rdquo; said the Lieutenant, &ldquo;from a cousin. Such a good fellow as
+he was! He always tipped me when I was at Sandhurst, but he's past tipping
+any one now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dead?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I believe it would be better he were; but he was ruined in India,&mdash;'let
+in' on a race, and lost everything, even to his commission.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was his name Stanley?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Stapyleton,&mdash;Frank Stapyleton,&mdash;he was in the Grays.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sewell, what are you drinking?&rdquo; cried Cave, with a loudness that overbore
+the talk around him. &ldquo;I can't see you down there. You 've got amongst the
+youngsters.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am in the midst of all that is agreeable and entertaining,&rdquo; said
+Sewell, with a smile of most malicious meaning. &ldquo;Talk of youngsters,
+indeed! I'd like to hear where you could match them for knowledge of life
+and mankind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was certainly nothing in his look or manner as he spoke these words
+that suggested distrust or suspicion to those around him, for they seemed
+overjoyed at his praise, and delighted to hear themselves called men of
+the world. The grim old Major at the opposite side of the table shook his
+head thoughtfully, and muttered some words to himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're a shady lot, I take it,&rdquo; said a young captain to his neighbor,
+&ldquo;those fellows who remain in India, and never come home; either they have
+done something they can't meet in England, or they want to do things in
+India they couldn't do here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's great truth in that remark,&rdquo; said Sewell. &ldquo;Captain Neeves, let us
+have a glass of wine together. I have myself seen a great deal to bear out
+your observation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Neeves colored with pleasure at this approval, and went on: &ldquo;I heard of
+one fellow&mdash;I forget his name&mdash;I never remember names; but he
+had a very pretty wife, and all the fellows used to make up to her, and
+pay her immense attention, and the husband rooked them all at écarté,
+every man of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a scoundrel!&rdquo; said Sewell, with energy. &ldquo;You ought to have preserved
+the name, if only for a warning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I can get it, Colonel. I 'll try and obtain it for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was it Moorcroft?&rdquo; cried one.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Or Massingbred?&rdquo; asked another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll wager a sovereign it was Dudgeon; wasn't it Dudgeon?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But no; it was none of the three. Still, the suggestions opened a whole
+chapter of biographical details, in which each of these worthies vied with
+the other. No man ever listened to the various anecdotes narrated with a
+more eager interest than Sewell. Now and then, indeed, a slight
+incredulity&mdash;a sort of puzzled astonishment that the world could be
+so very wicked, that there really were such fellows&mdash;would seem to
+distract him; but he listened on, and even occasionally asked an
+explanation of this or of that, to show the extreme attention he
+vouchsafed to the theme.
+</p>
+<p>
+To be sure, their attempts to describe the way some trick was played with
+the cards or the dice, how the horse was &ldquo;nobbled&rdquo; or the match &ldquo;squared,&rdquo;
+ were neither very remarkable for accuracy nor clearness. They had not been
+well &ldquo;briefed,&rdquo; as lawyers say, or they had not mastered their
+instructions. Sewell, however, was no captious critic; he took what he
+got, and was thankful.
+</p>
+<p>
+When they arose from the table, the old Major, dropping behind the line of
+those who lounged into the adjoining room, caught a young officer by the
+arm, and whispered some few words in his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a scrape I 'm in!&rdquo; cried the young fellow as he listened.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think not, this time; but let it be a caution to you how you talk of
+rumors in presence of men who are strangers to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, Major,&rdquo; asked a young captain, coming up hurriedly, &ldquo;isn't that
+Sewell the man of the Agra affair?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I 'd ask him about it, that's all,&rdquo; said the Major, slyly,
+and moved away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I got amongst a capital lot of young fellows at my end of the table&mdash;second
+battalion men, I think,&mdash;who were all new to me, but very agreeable,&rdquo;
+ said Sewell to Cave, as he sipped his coffee.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'd like your rubber, Sewell, I know,&rdquo; said Cave; &ldquo;let us see if we
+haven't got some good players.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to-night,&mdash;thanks,&mdash;I promised my wife to be home early;
+one of the chicks is poorly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want so much to have a game with Colonel Sewell,&rdquo; said a young fellow.
+&ldquo;They told me up at Delhi that you hadn't your equal at whist or
+billiards.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell's pale face grew flushed; but though he smiled and bowed, it was
+not difficult to see that his manner evinced more irritation than
+pleasure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say,&rdquo; said another, who sat shuffling the cards by himself at a table,
+&ldquo;who knows that trick about the double ace in picquet? That was the way
+Beresford was rooked at Madras.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must say good-night,&rdquo; said Sewell; &ldquo;it's a long drive to the Nest You
+'ll come over to breakfast some morning before you leave, won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll do my best. At all events, I 'll pay my respects to Mrs. Sewell;&rdquo;
+ and with a good deal of hand-shaking and some cordial speeches Sewell took
+his leave and retired.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had any one marked the pace at which Sewell drove home that night, black
+and dark as it was, he would have said, &ldquo;There goes one on some errand of
+life or death.&rdquo; There was something of recklessness in the way he pushed
+his strong-boned thoroughbred, urging him up hill and down without check
+or relief, nor slackening rein till he drew up at his own door, the
+panting beast making the buggy tremble with the violent action of his
+respiration. Low muttering to himself, the groom led the beast to the
+stable, and Sewell passed up the stairs to the small drawing-room where
+his wife usually sat.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was reading as he entered; a little table with a tea equipage at her
+side. She did not raise her eyes from her book when he came in; but
+whether his footstep on the stair had its meaning to her quick ears or
+not, a slight flush quivered on her cheek, and her mouth trembled faintly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I give you some tea?&rdquo; asked she, as he threw himself into a seat.
+He made no answer, and she laid down her book, and sat still and silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was your dinner pleasant?&rdquo; said she, after a pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How could it be other than pleasant, Madam,&rdquo; said he, fiercely, &ldquo;when
+they talked so much of <i>you?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of <i>me?</i>&mdash;talked of <i>me?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so; there were a set of young fellows who had just joined from
+another battalion, and who discoursed of you, of your life in India, of
+your voyage home, and lastly of some incidents that were attributed to
+your sojourn here. To me it was perfectly delightful. I had my opinion
+asked over and over again, if I thought that such a levity was so
+perfectly harmless, and such another liberty was the soul of innocence? In
+a word, Madam, I enjoyed the privilege, very rarely accorded to a husband,
+I fancy, to sit in judgment over his own wife, and say what he thought of
+her conduct.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was there no one to tell these gentlemen to whom they were speaking?&rdquo;
+ said she, with a subdued, quiet tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I came in late and took my place amongst men all strangers to me. I
+assure you I profited largely by the incident. It is so seldom one gets
+public opinion in its undiluted form, it 's quite refreshing to taste it
+neat. Of course they were not always correct. I could have set them right
+on many points. They had got a totally wrong version of what they called
+the 'Agra row,' though one of the party said he was Beresford's cousin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She grasped the table convulsively to steady herself, and in so doing
+threw it down, and the whole tea equipage with it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; continued he, as though responding to this evidence of emotion on
+her part,&mdash;&ldquo;yes; it pushed one's patience pretty hard to be obliged
+to sit under such criticism.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what obliged you, sir? was it fear?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Madam, you have guessed it. I was afraid&mdash;terribly afraid to
+own I was your husband.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A low faint groan was all she uttered, as she covered her face with her
+hands. &ldquo;I had next,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;to listen to a dispute as to whether
+Trafford had ever seriously offered to run away with you or not. It was
+almost put to the vote. Faith, I believe my casting voice might have
+carried the thing either way if I had only known how to give it.&rdquo; She
+murmured something too low to be heard correctly, but he caught at part of
+it, and said: &ldquo;Well, that was pretty much what I suspected. The debate
+was, however, adjourned; and as Cave called me by my name at the moment,
+the confidences came to an abrupt conclusion. As I foresaw that these
+youngsters, ignorant of life and manners as they were, would be at once
+for making apologetic speeches and such-like, I stole away and came home,
+<i>more domestico</i>, to ruminate over my enjoyments at my own fireside.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust, sir, they were strangers to your own delinquencies. I hope they
+had no unpleasant reminders to give you of yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pardon, Madam. They related several of what you pleasantly call my
+delinquencies, but they only came in as the by-play of the scene where you
+were the great character. We figured as brigands. It was <i>you</i> always
+who stunned the victim; <i>I</i> only rifled his pockets&mdash;fact, I
+assure you. I'm sorry that china is smashed. It was Saxe,&mdash;wasn't
+it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She nodded.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And a present of Trafford's too! What a pity! I declare I believe we
+shall not have a single relic of the dear fellow, except it be a protested
+bill or two.&rdquo; He paused a moment or so, and then said, &ldquo;Do you know, it
+just strikes me that if they saw how ill&mdash;how shamefully you played
+your cards in this Trafford affair, they 'd actually absolve you of all
+the Circe gifts the world ascribes to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She fixed her eyes steadfastly on him, and as her clasped hands dropped on
+her knees, she leaned forward and said: &ldquo;What do you mean by it? What do
+you want by this? If these men, whose insolent taunts you had not courage
+to arrest or to resent, say truly, whose the fault? Ay, sir, whose the
+fault? Answer me, if you dare, and say, was not my shame incurred to cover
+and conceal <i>yours?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your tragedy-queen airs have no effect upon me. I 've been too long
+behind the scenes to be frightened by stage thunder. What is past is past.
+You married a gambler; and if you shared his good luck, you oughtn't to
+grumble at partaking his bad fortune. If you had been tired of the yoke, I
+take it you 'd have thrown it behind you many a day ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I had not done so, you know well why,&rdquo; said she, fiercely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The old story, I suppose,&mdash;the dear darlings upstairs. Well, I can't
+discuss what I know nothing about. I can only promise you that such ties
+would never bind <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask you once again what you mean by this?&rdquo; cried she, as her lips
+trembled and her pale cheeks shook with agitation. &ldquo;What does it point to?
+What am I to do? What am I to be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the puzzle,&rdquo; said he, with an insolent levity; &ldquo;and I 'll be shot
+if I can solve it! Sometimes I think we 'd do better to renounce the
+partnership, and try what we could do alone; and sometimes I suspect&mdash;it
+sounds odd, does n't it?&mdash;but I suspect that we need each other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She had by this time buried her face between her hands, and by the
+convulsive motion of her shoulders, showed she was weeping bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One thing is certainly clear,&rdquo; said he, rising, and standing with his
+back to the fire,&mdash;&ldquo;if we decide to part company, we have n't the
+means. If either of us would desert the ship, there 's no boat left to do
+it with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She arose feebly from her chair, but sank down again, weak and overcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I give you my arm?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; send Jane to me,&rdquo; said she, in a voice barely above a whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+He rang the bell, and said, &ldquo;Tell Jane her mistress wants her;&rdquo; and with
+this he searched for a book on the table, found it, and strolled off to
+his room, humming an air as he went.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLV. THE TIDELESS SHORES
+</h2>
+<p>
+They who only know the shores of the Mediterranean in the winter months,
+and have but enjoyed the contrast&mdash;and what a contrast!&mdash;between
+our inky skies and rain-charged atmosphere with that glorious expanse of
+blue heaven and that air of exciting elasticity,&mdash;they, I say, can
+still have no conception of the real ecstasy of life in a southern climate
+till they have experienced a summer beside the tideless sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nothing is more striking in these regions than the completeness of the
+change from day to night. It is not alone the rapidity with which darkness
+succeeds,&mdash;and in this our delicious twilight is ever to be
+regretted; what I speak of is the marvellous transition from the world of
+sights and sounds to the world of unbroken silence and dimness. In the day
+the whole air rings with life. The flowers flaunt out their gorgeous
+petals, not timidly or reluctantly, but with the bold confidence of
+admitted beauty. The buds unfold beneath your very eyes, the rivulets sing
+in the clear air, and myriads of insects chirp till the atmosphere seems
+to be charged with vitality. This intense vitality is the striking
+characteristic of the scene; and it is to this that night succeeds, grand,
+solemn, and silent, at first to all seeming in unrelieved blackness, but
+soon to be displayed in a glorious expanse of darkest, deepest blue, with
+stars of surpassing size. To make this change more effective, too, it is
+instantaneous. It was but a moment back, and you were gazing on the
+mountain peaks bathed in an opal lustre, the cicala making the air vibrate
+with his song; a soft sea-breeze was blowing, and stirring the oranges
+amongst the leaves; and now all is dim and silent and breathless, as
+suddenly as though an enchanter's wand had waved and worked the miracle.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a little bay&mdash;rather a cleft in the shore than a bay&mdash;bounded
+by rocks and backed by a steep mountain overgrown with stunted olives,
+stood a small cottage,&mdash;so very small that it looked rather like a
+toy house than a human dwelling, a resemblance added to now as the windows
+lay wide open, and all the interior was a blaze of light from two lamps.
+All was still and silent within; no human being was to be seen, nor was
+there a sign of life about the place; for it was the only dwelling on the
+eastern shore of the island, and that island was Maddalena, off Sardinia.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a little nook among the rocks, close to the sea, sat Tom and Lucy
+Lendrick. They held hands, but were silent; for they had come down into
+the darkness to muse and ponder, and drink in the delicious tranquillity
+of that calm hour. Lucy had now been above a week on the island, and every
+day Tom made progress towards recovery. She knew exactly, and as none
+other knew, what amount of care and nursing he would accept of without
+resistance,&mdash;where companionship would gratify and where oppress him;
+she knew, besides, when to leave him to the full swing of his own wild
+discursive talk, and never to break in upon his moods of silent
+reflection.
+</p>
+<p>
+For upwards of half an hour they had sat thus without a word, when Tom,
+suddenly turning round, and looking towards the cottage, said, &ldquo;Is n't
+this the very sort of thing we used to imagine and wish for long ago,
+Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was just what was passing through my mind. I was thinking how often we
+longed to have one of the islands on Lough Derg, and to go and live there
+all by ourselves.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We never dreamed of anything so luxurious as this, though. We knew
+nothing of limes and oranges, Lucy. We never fancied such a starry sky, or
+an air so loaded with perfume. I declare,&rdquo; cried he, with more energy, &ldquo;it
+repays one for all the disappointment, to come and taste the luxury of
+such a night as this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what is the disappointment you speak of, Tom?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean about our project-that blessed mine, by which we were to have
+amassed a fortune, and which has only yielded lead enough to shoot
+ourselves with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never suspected that,&rdquo; said she, with a sigh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you never did; nor am I in a great hurry to tell it even now.
+I'd not whisper it if Sir Brook were on the same island with us. Do you
+know, girl, that he resents a word against the mine as if it was a stain
+upon his own honour. For a while I used to catch up his enthusiasm, and
+think if we only go on steadily, if we simply persist, we are sure to
+succeed in the end. But when week after week rolled over, and not a trace
+of a mineral appeared when the very workmen said we were toiling in vain
+when I felt half-ashamed to meet the jeering questions of the neighbours,
+and used to skulk up to the shaft by the back way,&mdash;he remarked it,
+and said to me one morning, 'I am afraid, Tom, it is your sense of loyalty
+to me that keeps you here, and not your hope of success. Be frank, and
+tell me if this be so.' I blundered out something about my determination
+to share his fate, whatever it might be, and it would have been lucky if I
+had stopped there; but I went on to say that I thought the mine was an
+arrant delusion, and that the sooner we turned our backs on it, and
+addressed our energies to another quarter, the better. 'You think so?'
+said he, looking almost fiercely at me. 'I am certain of it,' said I,
+decisively; for I thought the moment had come when a word of truth could
+do him good service. He went out without speaking, and instead of going to
+Lavanna, where the mine is, he went over to Cagliari, and only came home
+late at night. The next morning, while we were taking our coffee before
+'setting out, he said to me, 'Don't strap on your knapsack to-day. I don't
+mean you should come down into the shaft again.' 'How so?' asked I; 'what
+have I said or done that could offend you?' 'Nothing, my dear boy,' said
+he, laying his hand on my shoulder; 'but I cannot bear you should meet
+this dreary life of toil without the one thing that can lighten its gloom&mdash;Hope.
+I have managed, therefore, to raise a small sum on the mine; for,' said
+he, with a sly laugh, 'there are men in Cagliari who don't take the
+despondent view you have taken of it; and I have written to my old friend
+at the Horse Guards to give you a commission, and you shall go and be a
+soldier.' And leave you here, sir, all alone?' 'Far from alone, lad. I
+have that companion which you tell me never joined <i>you</i>. I have Hope
+with <i>me</i>.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Then I'll stay too, sir, and try if he'll not give me his company yet.
+At all events, I shall have <i>yours</i>; and there is nothing I know that
+could recompense me for the loss of it.' It was not very easy to turn him
+from his plan, but I insisted so heartily-for I'd have stayed on now, if
+it were to have entailed a whole life of poverty-that he gave in at last;
+and from that hour to this, not a word of other than agreement has passed
+between us. For my own part, I began to work with a will, and a
+determination that I never felt before; and perhaps I overtaxed my
+strength, for I caught this fever by remaining till the heavy dews began
+to fall, and in this climate it is always a danger.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the mine, Tom&mdash;did it grow better?&rdquo; &ldquo;Not a bit. I verily believe
+we never saw ore from that day. We got upon yellow clay, and lower down
+upon limestone rock, and then upon water; and we are pumping away yet, and
+old Sir Brook is just as much interested by the decrease of the water as
+if he saw a silver floor beneath it. 'We've got eight inches less this
+morning, Tom; we are doing famously now.' I declare to you, Lucy, when I
+saw his fine cheery look and bright honest eye, I thought how far better
+this man's fancies are than the hard facts of other people; and I'd rather
+have his great nature than all the wealth success could bring us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own dear brother!&rdquo; was all she could say, as she grasped his hand, and
+held it with both her own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The worst of all is, that in the infatuation he feels about this mining
+project he forgets everything else. Letters come to him from agents and
+men of business asking for speedy answers; some occasionally come to tell
+that funds upon which he had reckoned to meet certain payments had been
+withdrawn from his banker long sinca When he reads these, he ponders a
+moment, and mutters, 'The old story, I suppose. It is so easy to write
+Brook Fossbrooke;' and then the whole seems to pass out of his mind, and
+he'll say, 'Come along, Tom; we must push matters a little; I'll want some
+coin by the end of the month.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I grew so weak that I could n't go to the mine, the accounts he used
+to give me daily made me think we must be prospering. He would come back
+every night so cheery and so hopeful, and his eyes would sparkle as he 'd
+tell of a bright vein that they 'd just 'struck.' He owned that the men
+were less sanguine, but what could they know? They had no other teaching
+than the poor experiences of daily labor. If they saw lead or silver, they
+believed in it. To him, however, the signs of the coming ore were enough;
+and then he would open a paper full of dark earth in which a few shining
+particles might be detected, and point them out to me as the germs of
+untold riches. 'These are silver, Tom, every one of them; they are
+oxidized, but still perfectly pure. I 've seen the natives in Ceylon
+washing earth not richer than this;' and the poor fellow would make this
+hopeful tidings the reason for treating me to champagne, which in an
+unlucky moment the doctor said would be good for me, and which Sir Brook
+declared always disagreed with him. But I don't believe it, Lucy,&mdash;I
+don't believe it! I am certain that he suffered many a privation to give
+me luxuries that he would n't share. Shall I tell you the breakfast I saw
+him eating one morning? I had gone to his room to speak to him before he
+started to the mine, and, opening the door gently, I surprised him at his
+breakfast,&mdash;a piece of brown bread and a cup of coffee without milk
+was his meal, to support him till he came home at nightfall. I knew if he
+were aware that I had seen him that it would have given him great
+distress, so I crept quietly back to my bed, and lay down to think of this
+once pampered, flattered gentleman, and how grand the nature must be that
+could hold up uncomplaining and unshaken under such poverty as this. Nor
+is it that he ignores the past, Lucy, or strives to forget it,&mdash;far
+from that. He is full of memories of bygone events and people, but he
+talks of his own part in the grand world he once lived in as one might
+talk of another individual; nor is there the semblance of a regret that
+all this splendor has passed away never to return. He will be here on
+Sunday to pay us a visit, Lucy; and though perhaps you 'll find him sadly
+changed in appearance, you 'll see that his fine nature is the same as
+ever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And will he persist in this project, Tom, in spite of all failure and in
+defiance of hope?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the very point I 'm puzzled about. If he decide to go on, so must
+I. I 'll not leave him, whatever come of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, Tom; that I know you will not do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His confidence of success is unshaken. It was only t' other night, as we
+sat at a very frugal supper, he said, 'You 'll remember all this, Tom, one
+of these days; and as you sip your Burgundy, you 'll tell your friends how
+jolly we thought ourselves over our little acid wine and an onion.' I did
+not dare to say what was uppermost in my thoughts, that I disbelieved in
+the Burgundy era.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would have been cruel to have done it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He had the habit, he tells me, in his days of palmiest prosperity, of
+going off by himself on foot, and wandering about for weeks, roughing it
+amongst all sorts of people,&mdash;-gypsies, miners, charcoal-burners in
+the German forests, and such-like. He said, without something of this
+sort, he would have grown to believe that all the luxuries he lived
+amongst were <i>bona fide</i> necessities of life. He was afraid too, he
+said, they would become part of him; for his theory is, never let your
+belongings master your own nature.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is great romance in such a man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! there you have it, Lucy; that's the key to his whole temperament; and
+I 'd not be surprised if he had been crossed in some early love.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would that account for all his capricious ways?&rdquo; said she, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own experiences can tell me nothing; but I have a sister who could
+perhaps help me to an explanation. Eh, Lucy? What think you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She tried to laugh off the theme, but the attempt only half succeeded, and
+she turned away her head to hide her confusion.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tom took her hand between his own, and patted it affectionately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want no confessions, my own dear Lucy,&rdquo; said he, gently; &ldquo;but if there
+is anything which, for your own happiness or for my honor, I ought to
+know, you will tell me of it, I am certain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is nothing,&rdquo; said she, with a faint gasp.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you would tell me if there had been?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She nodded her head, but did not trust herself to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And grandpapa, Lucy?&rdquo; said he, trying to divert her thoughts from what he
+saw was oppressing her; &ldquo;has he forgiven me yet, or does he still harp on
+about my presumption and self-sufficiency?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is more forgiving than you think, Tom,&rdquo; said she, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not so sure of that. He wrote me a long letter some time back,&mdash;a
+sort of lecture on the faults and shortcomings of my disposition, in which
+he clearly showed that if I had all the gifts which my own self-confidence
+ascribed to me, and a score more that I never dreamed of, they would go
+for nothing,&mdash;absolutely nothing, so long as they were allied with my
+unparalleled&mdash;no, he did n't call it impudence, but something very
+near it. He told me that men of my stamp were like the people who traded
+on credit, and always cut a sorry figure when their accounts came to be
+audited; and, perhaps to stave off the hour of my bankruptcy, he enclosed
+me fifty pounds.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So like him!&rdquo; said she, proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose it was. Indeed, as I read his note, I thought I heard him
+talking it. There was an acrid flippancy about it that smacked of his very
+voice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom, I will not let you say that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll think it all the same, Lucy. His letter brought him back to my mind
+so palpably that I thought I stood there before him on that morning when
+he delivered that memorable discourse on my character after luncheon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you reply to him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I replied,&rdquo; said he, with a dry sententiousness that sounded as
+though he wished the subject to drop.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do tell me what you said. I hope you took it in good part. I am sure you
+could not have shown any resentment at his remarks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I rather think I showed great forbearance. I simply said, 'My dear
+Lord Chief Baron, I have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, of
+which I accept everything but the enclosure.&mdash;I am, faithfully
+yours.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And refused his gift?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course I did. The good counsel without the money, or the last without
+the counsel, would have beeu all very well; but coming together, in what a
+false position the offer placed me! I remember that same day we happened
+to have an unusually meagre dinner, but I drank the old man's health after
+it in some precious bad wine; and Sir Brook, who knew nothing about the
+letter, joined in the toast, and pronounced a very pretty little eulogium
+on his vigor and energy; and thus ended the whole incident.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you only knew him better, Tom! if you knew him as I know him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom shrugged his shoulders, and merely said, &ldquo;It was nicely done, though,
+not to tell <i>you</i> about this. There was delicacy in <i>that</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy went on now to relate all his kind intentions towards Tom when the
+news of his illness arrived,&mdash;how he had conferred with Beattie about
+sending out a doctor, and how, at such a sacrifice to his own daily
+habits, he had agreed that she should come out to Cagliari. &ldquo;And you don't
+know how much this cost him, Master Tom,&rdquo; said she, laughing; &ldquo;for however
+little store you may lay by my company, he prizes it, and prizes it highly
+too, I promise you; and then there was another reason which weighed
+against his letting me come out here,&mdash;he has got some absurd
+prejudice against Sir Brook. I call it absurd, because I have tried to
+find out to what to trace it, and could not; but a chance expression or
+two that fell from Mrs. Sewell leads me to suppose the impression was
+derived from them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't believe he knows the Sewells. I never heard him speak of them. I
+'ll ask when he comes over here. By the way, how do you like them
+yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely know. I liked her at first,&mdash;that is, I thought I should
+like her; and I fancied, too, it was her wish that I might&mdash;but&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what? What does this 'but' mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It means that she has puzzled me, and my hope of liking her depends on my
+discovering that I have misunderstood her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a riddle, if ever there was one! but I suppose it comes to this,
+that if you have read her aright you do not like her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I could show you a letter she wrote me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why can't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I can tell you even that, Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a mysterious damsel you have grown! Does this come of your living
+with that great law lord, Lucy? If so, tell him from me he has spoiled you
+sadly. How frank you were long ago!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is true,&rdquo; said she, sighing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I wish we could go back to that time, with all its dreaminess and all
+its castle-building. Do you remember, Lu, when we used to set off of a
+morning in the boat on a voyage of discovery, as we called it, and find
+out new islands and new creeks, and give them names?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do I not? Oh, Tom, were we not a thousand times happier then than we knew
+we were?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a bit of a bull, Lucy, but it's true all the same. I know all you
+mean, and I agree with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If we had troubles, what light ones they were!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, that's true. We were not grubbing for lead in those days, and finding
+only quartz; and our poor hearts, Lucy, were whole enough then.&rdquo; He gave a
+half malicious laugh as he said this; but, correcting himself quickly, he
+drew her towards him and said, &ldquo;Don't be angry with me, dear Lu; you know
+of old what a reckless tongue I 've got.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was that thunder, Tom? There it is again. What is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a storm getting up. It's coming from the south'ard. See how the
+drift is flying overhead, and all the while the sea beneath is like a
+mill-pond! Watch the stars now, and you 'll see how, one by one, they will
+drop out, as if extinguished; and mark the little plash&mdash;it is barely
+audible&mdash;that begins upon the beach. There! did you hear that,&mdash;that
+rushing sound like wind through the trees? That's the sea getting up. How
+I wish I was strong enough to stay out here. I 'd like to show you a
+'Levanter,' girl,&mdash;a regular bit of Southern passion, not increasing
+slowly, like a Northern wrath, but bursting out in its full fury in an
+instant. Here it comes!&rdquo; and as he spoke two claps of thunder shook the
+air, followed by a long clattering roll like musketry, and the sea,
+upheaving, surged heavily hither and thither, while the air was still and
+calm; and then, as though let loose from their caverns, the winds swept
+past with a wild shrill whistle that swelled into a perfect roar. The
+whole surface of the sea became at once white, and the wind, sweeping
+across the crests of the waves, carried away a blinding drift that added
+to the darkness. The thunder, too, rolled on unceasingly, and great
+flashes of lightning broke through the blackness, and displayed tall masts
+and spars of ships far out to sea, rocking fearfully, and in the next
+instant lost to sight in the dense darkness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here comes the rain, and we must run for it,&rdquo; said Tom, as a few heavy
+drops fell. A solemn pause in the storm ensued, and then, as though the
+very sky was rent, the water poured down in cataracts. Laughing merrily,
+they made for the cottage, and though but a few yards off, were drenched
+thoroughly ere they reached it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's going to be a terrific night,&rdquo; said Tom, as he passed from window to
+window, looking to the bars and fastenings. &ldquo;The great heat always brings
+one of the Levant storms, and the fishermen here know it so well that on
+seeing certain signs at sunset they draw up all their boats on shore, and
+even secure the roofs of their cabins with strong spars and stones.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope poor old Nicholas is safe by this time. Could he have reached
+Cagliari by this?&rdquo; said Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he is snug enough. The old rogue is sitting at his supper this
+minute, cursing the climate and the wine and the place, and the day he
+came to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Tom! I think he bears everything better than I expected.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bears everything better! Why, child, what has he to bear that you and I
+have not to bear? Is there one privation here that falls to his share
+without coming to us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what would be the value of that good blood you are so proud of, Tom,
+if it would not make us as proof against petty annoyances as against big
+dangers?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare time and place make no change on you. You are the same
+disputatious damsel here that you used to be beside the Shannon. Have I
+not told you scores of times you must never quote what one has once said,
+when it comes in opposition to a present opinion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But if I cease to quote you, Tom, whence am I to derive those maxims of
+wisdom I rely upon so implicitly?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take care, young lady,&mdash;take care,&rdquo; said he, shaking his finger at
+her. &ldquo;Every fort has its weak side. If you assail me by the brain, I may
+attack you at the heart! How will it be then, eh?&rdquo; Coloring till her face
+and neck were crimson, she tried to laugh; but though her lips parted, no
+sound came forth, and after a second or two of struggle, she said,
+&ldquo;Good-night,&rdquo; and rushed away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-night, Lu,&rdquo; cried he after her. &ldquo;Look well to your
+window-fastenings, or you will be blown away before morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+END OF VOL. I. <br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
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+</html>
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@@ -0,0 +1,14779 @@
+Project Gutenberg's Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by Charles James Lever
+
+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: Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I.
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: E. J. Wheeler
+
+Release Date: February 16, 2011 [EBook #35296]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE, VOLUME I. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE
+
+Volume I.
+
+By Charles James Lever,
+
+With Illustrations By E. J. Wheeler
+
+Boston:
+
+Little, Brown, And Company.
+
+1917.
+
+
+To PHILIP ROSE, Esq.
+
+My dear Rose,--You have often stopped me when endeavouring to express
+all the gratitude I felt towards you. You cannot do so now, nor prevent
+my telling aloud how much I owe-how much I esteem you. These volumes
+were not without interest for me as I wrote them, but they yielded me
+no such pleasure as I now feel in dedicating them to you; and, with this
+assurance, believe me,
+
+Your affectionate Friend,
+
+CHARLES LEVER.
+
+Spezia, October 20. 1866.
+
+
+
+
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. AFTER MESS
+
+The mess was over, and the officers of H. M.'s --th were grouped in
+little knots and parties, sipping their coffee, and discussing the
+arrangements for the evening. Their quarter was that pleasant city
+of Dublin, which, bating certain exorbitant demands in the matter of
+field-day and guard-mounting, stands pre-eminently first in military
+favor.
+
+"Are you going to that great ball in Merrion Square?" asked one., "Not
+so lucky; not invited."
+
+"I got a card," cried a third; "but I 've just heard it's not to come
+off. It seems that the lady's husband is a judge. He's Chief something
+or other; and he has been called away."
+
+"Nothing of the kind, Tomkins; unless you call a summons to the next
+world being called away. The man is dangerously ill. He was seized with
+paralysis on the Bench yesterday, and, they say, can't recover."
+
+There now ensued an animated conversation as to whether, on death
+vacancies, the men went up by seniority at the bar, or whether a
+subaltern could at once spring up to the top of the regiment.
+
+"Suppose," said one, "we were to ask the Colonel's guest his opinion.
+The old cove has talked pretty nigh of everything in this world during
+dinner; what if we were to ask him about Barons of the Exchequer?"
+
+"Who is he? what is he?" asked another.
+
+"The Colonel called him Sir Brook Fossbrooke; that's all I know."
+
+"Colonel Cave told me," whispered the Major, "that he was the fastest
+man on town some forty years ago."
+
+"I think he must have kept over the wardrobe of that brilliant period,"
+said another. "I never saw a really swallow-tailed coat before."
+
+"His ring amused _me_. It is a small smoothing-iron, with a coat-of-arms
+on it. Hush! here he comes."
+
+The man who now joined the group was a tall, gaunt figure, with a high
+narrow head, from which the hair was brushed rigidly back to fall behind
+in something like an old-fashioned queue. His eyes were black, and
+surmounted with massive and much-arched eyebrows; a strongly marked
+mouth, stern, determined, and, except in speaking, almost cruel in
+expression, and a thin-pointed projecting chin, gave an air of severity
+and strong will to features which, when he conversed, displayed a look
+of courteous deference, and that peculiar desire to please that we
+associate with a bygone school of breeding. He was one of those men,
+and very distinctive are they, with whom even the least cautious take
+no liberties, nor venture upon any familiarity. The eccentricities of
+determined men are very often indications of some deep spirit beneath,
+and not, as in weaker natures, mere emanations of vanity or offsprings
+of self-indulgence.
+
+If he was, beyond question, a gentleman, there were also signs about him
+of narrow fortune: his scrupulously white shirt was not fine, and the
+seams of his well-brushed coat showed both care and wear.
+
+He had joined the group, who were talking of the coming Derby when the
+Colonel came up. "I have sent for the man we want, Fossbrooke. I'm not
+a fisherman myself; but they tell me he knows every lake, river, and
+rivulet in the island. He has sat down to whist, but we 'll have him
+here presently."
+
+"On no account; don't disturb his game for me."
+
+"Here he comes. Trafford, I want to present you to a very old friend of
+mine, Sir Brook Fossbrooke,--as enthusiastic an angler as yourself. He
+has the ambition to hook an Irish salmon. I don't suppose any one can
+more readily help him on the road to it."
+
+The young man thus addressed was a large, strongly, almost heavily built
+young fellow, but with that looseness of limb and freedom that showed
+activity had not been sacrificed to mere power. He had a fine, frank,
+handsome face, blue-eyed and bold-looking; and as he stood to receive
+the Colonel's orders, there was in his air that blending of deference
+and good-humored carelessness that made up his whole nature.
+
+It was plain to see in him one easy to persuade, impossible to coerce;
+a fellow with whom the man he liked could do anything, bat one perfectly
+unmanageable if thrown into the wrong hands. He was the second son of
+a very rich baronet, but made the mistake of believing he had as much
+right to extravagance as his elder brother, and, having persisted in
+this error during two years in the Life Guards, had been sent to do
+the double penance of an infantry regiment and an Irish station; two
+inflictions which, it was believed, would have sufficed to calm down the
+ardor of the most impassioned spendthrift. He looked at Fossbrooke from
+head to foot. It was not exactly the stamp of man he would have selected
+for companionship, but he saw at once that he was distinctively a
+gentleman, and then the prospect of a few days away from regimental
+duty was not to be despised, and he quickly replied that both he and his
+tackle were at Sir Brook's disposal. "If we could run down to Killaloe,
+sir," added he, turning to the Colonel, "we might be almost sure of some
+sport."
+
+"Which means that you want two days' leave, Trafford."
+
+"No, sir, four. It will take a day at least to get over there; another
+will be lost in exploring; all these late rains have sent such a fresh
+into the Shannon there's no knowing where to try."
+
+"You see, Fossbrooke, what a casuistical companion I've given you. I 'll
+wager you a five-pound note that if you come back without a rise he 'll
+have an explanation that will perfectly explain it was the best thing
+could have happened."
+
+"I am charmed to travel in such company," said Sir Brook, bowing. "The
+gentleman has already established a claim to my respect for him."
+
+Trafford bowed too, and looked not at all displeased at the compliment.
+"Are you an early riser, sir?" asked he.
+
+"I am anything, sir, the occasion exacts; but when I have an early start
+before me, I usually sit up all night."
+
+"My own plan too," cried Trafford. "And there's Aubrey quite ready to
+join us. Are you a whister, Sir Brook?"
+
+"At your service. I play all games."
+
+"Is he a whister?" repeated the Colonel. "Ask Harry Greville, ask Tom
+Newenham, what they say of him at Grahams? Trafford, my boy, you may
+possibly give him a hint about gray hackles, but I 'll be shot if you do
+about the odd trick."
+
+"If you 'll come over to my room, Sir Brook, we 'll have a rubber, and
+I 'll give orders to have my tax-cart ready for us by daybreak," said
+Trafford; and, Fossbrooke promising to be with him so soon as he had
+given his servant his orders, they parted.
+
+"And are you as equal to this sitting up all night as you used to be,
+Fossbrooke?" asked the Colonel.
+
+"I don't smoke as many cigars as formerly, and I am a little more choice
+about my tobacco. I avoid mulled port, and take weak brandy-and-water;
+and I believe in all other respects I 'm pretty much where I was when we
+met last,--I think it was at Ceylon?"
+
+"I wish I could say as much for myself. You are talking of thirty-four
+years ago."
+
+"My secret against growing old is to do a little of everything. It keeps
+the sympathies wider, makes a man more accessible to other men, and
+keeps him from dwelling too much on himself. But tell me about my young
+companion; is he one of Sir Hugh's family?"
+
+"His second son; not unlike to be his eldest, for George has gone to
+Madeira with very little prospect of recovery. This is a fine lad; a
+little wild, a little careless of money, but the very soul of honor and
+right-mindedness. They sent him to me as a sort of incurable, but I have
+nothing but good to say of him."
+
+"There 'a great promise in a fellow when he can be a scamp and a man of
+honor. When dissipations do not degrade and excesses do not corrupt a
+man, there is a grand nature ever beneath."
+
+"Don't tell him that, Fossbrooke," said the Colonel, laughing.
+
+"I am not likely to do so," said he, with a grim smile. "I am glad, too,
+to meet his father's son; we were at Christ Church together; and now I
+see he has the family good looks. 'Le beau Trafford' was a proverb in
+Paris once."
+
+"Do you ever forget a man?" asked the Colonel, in some curiosity.
+
+"I believe not. I forget books, places, dates occasionally, but never
+people. I met an old schoolfellow t'other day at Dover whom I never saw
+since we were boys. He had gone down in the world, and was acting as
+one of the 'commissionnaires' they call them, who take your keys to the
+Custom-house to have your luggage examined; and when he came to ask me
+to employ him, I said, "'What! ain't you Jemmy Harper?' 'And who the
+devil are you?' said he. 'Fossbrooke,' said I. 'Not "Wart"?' said he.
+That was my school nickname, from a wart I once had on my chin. 'Ay, to
+be sure,' said I, 'Wart.' I wish you saw the delight of the old dog. I
+made him dine with us. Lord Brackington was with me, and enjoyed it all
+immensely."
+
+"And what had brought him so low?"
+
+"He was cursed, he said, with a strong constitution; all the other
+fellows of his set had so timed it that when they had nothing to live on
+they ceased to live; but Jemmy told us he never had such an appetite as
+now; that he passed from fourteen to sixteen hours a day on the pier
+in all weathers; and as to gout he firmly believed it all came of the
+adulterated wines of the great wine-merchants. British gin he maintained
+to be the wholesomest liquor in existence."
+
+"I wonder how fellows bear up under such reverses as that," said the
+Colonel.
+
+"My astonishment is rather," cried Fossbrooke, "how men can live on in
+a monotony of well-being, getting fatter, older, and more unwieldy, and
+with only such experiences of life as a well-fed fowl might have in a
+hencoop."
+
+"I know that's _your_ theory," said the other, laughing.
+
+"Well, no man can say that I have not lived up to my convictions; and
+for myself, I can aver I have thoroughly enjoyed my intercourse with the
+world, and like it as well to-day as on the first morning I made my bow
+to it."
+
+"Listen to this, young gentlemen," said the Colonel, turning to his
+officers, who now gathered around them. "Now and then I hear some of
+you complaining of being bored or wearied,--sick of this, tired of that;
+here's my friend, who knows the whole thing better than any of us, and
+he declares that the world is the best of all possible worlds, and
+that so far from familiarity with it inspiring disgust with life, his
+enjoyment of it is as racy as when first he knew it."
+
+"It is rather hard to ask these gentlemen to take me as a guide on
+trust," said Fossbrooke; "but I have known the fathers of most of those
+I see around me, and could call many of them as witnesses to character.
+Major Aylmer, your father and I went up the Nile together, when people
+talked of it as a journey. Captain Harris, I 'm sure I am not wrong in
+saying you are the son of Godfrey Harris, of Harrisburg. Your father
+was my friend on the day I wounded Lord Ecclesmore. I see four or five
+others too,--so like old companions that I find it hard to believe I am
+not back again in the old days when I was as young as themselves; and
+yet I 'm not very certain if I would like to exchange my present quiet
+enjoyment as a looker-on for all that active share I once took in life
+and its pleasures."
+
+Something in the fact that their fathers had lived in his intimacy,
+something in his manner,--a very courteous manner it was,--and something
+in the bold, almost defiant bearing of the old man, vouching for great
+energy and dignity together, won greatly upon the young men, and they
+gathered around him. He was, however, summoned away by a message from
+Trafford to say that the whist-party waited for him, and he took his
+leave with a stately courtesy and withdrew.
+
+"There goes one of the strangest fellows in Christendom," said the
+Colonel, as the other left the room. "He has already gone through three
+fortunes; he dissipated the first, speculated and lost the second,
+and the third he, I might say, gave away in acts of benevolence and
+kindness,--leaving himself so ill off that I actually heard the other
+day that some friend had asked for the place of barrack-master at
+Athlone for him; but on coming over to see the place, he found a poor
+fellow with a wife and five children a candidate for it; so he retired
+in his favor, and is content, as you see, to go out on the world, and
+take his chance with it."
+
+Innumerable questions pressed on the Colonel to tell more of his strange
+friend; he had, however, little beyond hearsay to give them. Of his
+own experiences, he could only say that when first he met him it was
+at Ceylon, where he had come in a yacht like a sloop of war to hunt
+elephants,--the splendor of his retinue and magnificence of his suite
+giving him the air of a royal personage,--and indeed the gorgeous
+profusion of his presents to the King and the chief personages of the
+court went far to impress this notion. "I never met him since," said
+the Colonel, "till this morning, when he walked into my room, dusty and
+travel-stained, to say, 'I just heard your name, and thought I 'd ask
+you to give me my dinner to-day.' I owe him a great many,--not to say
+innumerable other attentions; and his last act on leaving Trincomalee
+was to present me with an Arab charger, the most perfect animal I ever
+mounted. It is therefore a real pleasure to me to receive him. He is a
+thoroughly fine-hearted fellow, and, with all his eccentricities, one of
+the noblest natures I ever met. The only flaw in his frankness is as
+to his age; nobody has ever been able to get it from him. You heard him
+talk of your fathers,--he might talk of your grandfathers; and he would,
+too, if we had only the opportunity to lead him on to it. I know of my
+own knowledge that he lived in the Carlton House coterie, not a man of
+which except himself survives, and I have heard him give imitations of
+Burke, Sheridan, Gavin Hamilton, and Pitt, that none but one who had
+seen them could have accomplished. And now that I have told you all
+this, will one of you step over to Trafford's rooms, and whisper him
+a hint to make his whist-points as low as he can; and, what is even
+of more importance, to take care lest any strange story Sir Brook may
+tell--and he is full of them--meet a sign of incredulity, still less
+provoke any quizzing? The slightest shade of such a provocation would
+render him like a madman."
+
+The Major volunteered to go on this mission, which indeed any of the
+others would as willingly have accepted, for the old man had interested
+them deeply, and they longed to hear more about him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE SWAN'S NEST
+
+As the Shannon draws near Killaloe, the wild character of the mountain
+scenery, the dreary wastes and desolate islands which marked Lough
+Derg, disappear, and give way to gently sloping lawns, dotted over with
+well-grown timber, well-kept demesnes, spacious country-houses, and
+a country which, in general, almost recalls the wealth and comfort of
+England.
+
+About a mile above the town, in a little bend of the river forming a
+small bay, stands a small but pretty house, with a skirt of rich wood
+projecting at the back, while the lawn in front descends by an easy
+slope to the river.
+
+Originally a mere farmhouse, the taste of an ingenious owner had
+taken every advantage of its irregular outline, and converted it into
+something Elizabethan in character, a style admirably adapted to the
+site, where all the features of rich-colored landscape abounded, and
+where varied foliage, heathy mountain, and eddying river, all lent
+themselves to make up a scene of fresh and joyous beauty.
+
+In the marvellous fertility of the soil, too, was found an ally to every
+prospect of embellishment. Sheltered from north and east winds, plants
+grew here in the open air, which in less favored spots needed the
+protection of the conservatory; and thus in the neatly shaven lawn were
+seen groups of blossoming shrubs or flowers of rare excellence, and the
+camellia and the salvia and the oleander blended with the tulip, the
+moss-rose, and the carnation, to stud the grass with their gorgeous
+colors.
+
+Over the front of the cottage, for cottage it really was, a South
+American creeper, a sort of acanthus, grew, its crimson flowers hanging
+in rich profusion over cornice and architrave; while a passion-tree of
+great age covered the entire porch, relieving with its softened tints
+the almost over-brilliancy of the southern plant.
+
+Seen from the water,--and it came suddenly into view on rounding a
+little headland,--few could forbear from an exclamation of wonder and
+admiration at this lovely spot; nor could all the pretentious grandeur
+of the rich-wooded parks, nor all the more imposing architecture of the
+great houses, detract from the marvellous charm of this simple home.
+
+A tradition of a swan carried away by some rising of the river from the
+Castle of Portumna, and swept down the lake till it found refuge in the
+little bay, had given the name to the place, and for more than a hundred
+years was it known as the Swan's Nest. The Swan, however, no longer
+existed, though a little thatched edifice at the water-side marked the
+spot it had once inhabited, and sustained the truth of the legend.
+
+The owner of the place was a Dr. Lendrick: he had come to it about
+twenty years before the time at which our story opens,--a widower with
+two children, a son and a daughter. He was a perfect stranger to all the
+neighborhood, though by name well known as the son of a distinguished
+judge, Baron Lendrick of the Court of Exchequer.
+
+It was rumored about, that, having displeased his father, first by
+adopting medicine instead of law as his profession, and subsequently by
+marrying a portionless girl of humble family, the Baron had ceased to
+recognize him in any way. Making a settlement of a few hundreds a year
+on him, he resolved to leave the bulk of his fortune to a step-son, the
+child of his second wife, a Colonel Sewell, then in India.
+
+It was with no thought of practising his profession that Dr. Lendrick
+had settled in the neighborhood; but as he was always ready to assist
+the poor by his advice and skill, and as the reputation of his great
+ability gradually got currency, he found himself constrained to yield
+to the insistence of his neighbors, and consent to practise generally.
+There were many things which made this course unpalatable to him. He was
+by nature shy, timid, and retiring; he was fastidiously averse to a new
+acquaintanceship; he had desired, besides, to live estranged from the
+world, devoting himself entirely to the education of his children; and
+he neither liked the forced publicity he became exposed to, nor that
+life of servitude which leaves the doctor at the hourly mercy of the
+world around him.
+
+If he yielded, therefore, to the professional calls upon him, he
+resisted totally all social claims: he went nowhere but as the doctor.
+
+No persuasion, no inducement, could prevail on him to dine out; no
+exigency of time or season prevent him returning to his home at night.
+There were in his neighborhood one or two persons whose rank might have,
+it was supposed, influenced him in some degree to comply with their
+requests,--and, certainly, whose desire for his society would have
+left nothing undone to secure it; but he was as obdurate to them as
+to others, and the Earl of Drum-carran and Sir Reginald Lacy, of Lacy
+Manor, were not a whit more successful in their blandishments than the
+Vicar of Killaloe--old Bob Mills, as he was irreverently called--or
+Lendrick's own colleague, Dr. Tobin, who, while he respected his
+superior ability and admitted his knowledge, secretly hated him as only
+a rival doctor knows how to hate a brother practitioner.
+
+For the first time for many years had Dr. Lendrick gone up to Dublin.
+A few lines from an old family physician, Dr. Beattie, had, however,
+called him up to town. The Chief Baron had been taken ill in Court, and
+was conveyed home in a state of insensibility. It was declared that he
+had rallied and passed a favorable night; but as he was a man of very
+advanced age, at no time strong, and ever unsparing of himself in the
+arduous labors of his office, grave doubts were felt that he would
+ever again resume his seat on the Bench. Dr. Beattie well knew the long
+estrangement that had separated the father from the son; and although,
+perhaps, the most intimate friend the Judge had in the world, he never
+had dared to interpose a word or drop a hint as to the advisability of
+reconciliation.
+
+Sir William Lendrick was, indeed, a man whom no amount of intimacy could
+render his friends familiar with. He was positively charming to mere
+acquaintanceship,--his manner was a happy blending of deference with
+a most polished wit Full of bygone experiences and reminiscences of
+interesting people and events, he never overlaid conversation by their
+mention, but made them merely serve to illustrate the present, either
+by contrast or resemblance. All this to the world and society was he; to
+the inmates of his house he was a perfect terror! It was said his first
+wife had died of a broken heart; his second, with a spirit fierce and
+combative as his own, had quarrelled with him so often, so seriously,
+and so hopelessly, that for the last fifteen years of life they had
+occupied separate houses, and only met as acquaintances, accepting
+and sending invitations to each other, and outwardly observing all the
+usages of a refined courtesy.
+
+This was the man of whom Dr. Beattie wrote: "I cannot presume to say
+that he is _more_ favorably disposed towards you than he has shown
+himself for years, but I would strenuously advise your being here, and
+sufficiently near, so that if a happier disposition should occur, or an
+opportunity arise to bring you once more together, the fortunate moment
+should not be lost. Come up, then, at once, come to my house, where
+your room is ready for you, and where you will neither be molested by
+visitors nor interfered with. Manage too, if you can, to remain here for
+some days."
+
+It is no small tribute to the character of filial affection when one can
+say, and say truthfully, that scarcely any severity on a parent's part
+effaces the love that was imbibed in infancy, and that struck root in
+the heart before it could know what unkindness was! Over and over again
+in life have I witnessed this deep devotion. Over and over again have I
+seen a clinging affection to a memory which nothing short of a hallowed
+tie could have made so dear,--a memory that retained whatever could
+comfort and sustain, and held nothing that recalled shame or sorrow.
+
+Dr. Lendrick went up to town full of such emotions. All the wrong--it
+was heavy wrong too--he had suffered was forgotten, all the Injustice
+wiped out. He only asked to be permitted to see his father,--to nurse
+and watch by him. There was no thought for himself. By reconciliation
+he never meant restoration to his place as heir. Forgiveness and love he
+asked for,--to be taken back to the heart so long closed against him, to
+hear himself called Tom by that voice he knew so well, and whose accents
+sounded through his dreams.
+
+That he was not without a hope of such happiness, might be gathered from
+one circumstance. He had taken up with him two miniatures of his boy and
+girl to show "Grandfather," if good fortune should ever offer a fitting
+moment.
+
+The first words which greeted him on reaching his friend's house were:
+"Better. A tolerably tranquil night. He can move his hand. The attack
+was paralysis, and his speech is also improved."
+
+"And his mind? how is his mind?"
+
+"Clear as ever it was,--intensely eager to hear what is said about his
+illness, and insatiable as to the newspaper versions of the attack."
+
+"Does he speak? Has he spoken of--his family at all?" said he,
+falteringly.
+
+"Only of Lady Lendrick. He desired to see her. He dictated a note to
+me, in terms of very finished courtesy, asking her if, without incurring
+inconvenience, she would favor him with an early call. The whole thing
+was so like himself that I saw at once he was getting better."
+
+"And so you think him better?" asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+
+"Better! Yes--but not out of danger. I fear as much from his
+irritability as his malady. He will insist on seeing the newspapers, and
+occasionally his eye falls on some paragraph that wounds him. It was but
+yesterday that he read a sort of querulous regret from some writer that
+'the learned Judge had not retired some years ago, and before failing
+health, acting on a very irascible temperament, had rendered him a
+terror alike to the bar and the suitors.' That unfortunate paragraph
+cost twenty leeches and ice to his temples for eight hours after."
+
+"Cannot these things be kept from him? Surely your authority ought to be
+equal to this!"
+
+"Were I to attempt it, he would refuse to see me. In fact, any utility
+I can contribute depends on my apparent submission to him in everything.
+Almost his first question to me every morning is, 'Well, sir, who is to
+be my successor?' Of course I say that we all look with a sanguine hope
+to see him soon back in his court again. When I said this yesterday, he
+replied, 'I will sit on Wednesday, sir, to hear appeals; there will be
+little occasion for me to speak, and I trust another day or two will see
+the last of this difficulty of utterance. Pemberton, I know, is looking
+to the Attorney-Generalship, and George Hayes thinks he may order his
+ermine. Tell them, however, from me, that the Chief Baron intends to
+preside in his court for many a year to come; that the intellect, such
+as it is, with which Providence endowed him, is still unchanged and
+unclouded.' This is his language,--this his tone; and you may know
+how such a spirit jars with all our endeavors to promote rest and
+tranquillity."
+
+Lendrick walked moodily up and down the room, his head sunk, and his
+eyes downcast. "Never to speak of me,--never ask to see me," muttered
+he, in a voice of intense sadness.
+
+"I half suspected at one time he was about to do so, and indeed he said,
+'If this attack should baffle you, Beattie, you must not omit to give
+timely warning. There are two or three things to be thought of.' When I
+came away on that morning, I sat down and wrote to you to come up here."
+
+A servant entered at this moment and presented a note to the doctor, who
+read it hastily and handed it to Lendrick. It ran thus:--
+
+"Dear Dr. Beattie,--The Chief Baron has had an unfavorable turn, partly
+brought on by excitement. Lose no time in coming here; and believe me,
+yours sincerely,
+
+"CONSTANTIA LENDRICK."
+
+"They've had a quarrel; I knew they would. I did my best to prevent
+their meeting; but I saw he would not go out of the world without a
+scene. As he said last night, 'I mean her to hear my "charge." She must
+listen to my charge, Beattie;' and I 'd not be astonished if this charge
+were to prove his own sentence."
+
+"Go to him at once, Beattie; and if it be at all possible, if you can
+compass it in any way, let me see him once again. Take these with you;
+who knows but their bright faces may plead better than words for us?"
+and thus saying, he gave him the miniatuies; and overcome with emotion
+he could not control, turned away and left the room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. A DIFFICULT PATIENT
+
+As Dr. Beattie drove off with all speed to the Chief Baron's house,
+which lay about three miles from the city, he had time to ponder as he
+went over his late interview. "Tom Lendrick," as he still called him
+to himself, he had known as a boy, and ever liked him. He had been a
+patient, studious, gentle-tempered lad, desirous to acquire knowledge,
+without any of that ambition that wants to make the knowledge
+marketable. To have gained a professorship would have appeared to have
+been the very summit of his ambition, and this rather as a quiet retreat
+to pursue his studies further than as a sphere wherein to display his
+own gifts. Anything more unlike that bustling, energetic, daring spirit,
+his father, would be hard to conceive. Throughout his whole career
+at the bar, and in Parliament, men were never quite sure what that
+brilliant speaker and most indiscreet talker would do next. Men secured
+his advocacy with a half misgiving whether they were doing the very best
+or the very worst for success. Give him difficulties to deal with, and
+he was a giant; let all go smoothly and well, and he would hunt up
+some crotchet,--some obsolete usage,--a doubtful point, that in its
+discussion very frequently led to the damage of his client's cause, and
+the defeat of his suit.
+
+Display was ever more to him than victory. Let him have a great arena
+to exhibit in, and he was proof against all the difficulties and all
+the casualties of the conflict. Never had such a father a son less the
+inheritor of his temperament and nature; and this same disappointment
+rankling on through life--a disappointment that embittered all
+intercourse, and went so far as to make him disparage the high abilities
+of his son--created a gulf between them that Beattie knew could never
+be bridged over. He doubted, too, whether as a doctor he could
+conscientiously introduce a theme so likely to irritate and excite. As
+he pondered, he opened the two miniatures, and looked at them. The young
+man was a fine, manly, daring-looking fellow, with a determined brow and
+a resolute mouth, that recalled his grandfather's face; he was evidently
+well grown and strong, and looked one that, thrown where he might be in
+life, would be likely to assert his own.
+
+The girl, wonderfully like him in feature, had a character of subdued
+humor in her eye, and a half-hid laughter in the mouth, which the artist
+had caught up with infinite skill, that took away all the severity of
+the face, and softened its traits to a most attractive beauty. Through
+her rich brown hair there was a sort of golden _reflet_ that imparted
+great brilliancy to the expression of the head, and her large eyes of
+gray-blue were the image of candor and softness, till her laugh gave
+them a sparkle of drollery whose sympathy there was no resisting. She,
+too, was tall and beautifully formed, with that slimness of early youth
+that only escapes being angular, but has in it the charm of suppleness
+that lends grace to every action and every gesture.
+
+"I wish he could see the originals," muttered Beattie. "If the old man,
+with his love of beauty, but saw that girl, it would be worth all the
+arguments in Christendom. Is it too late for this? Have we time for the
+experiment?"
+
+Thus thinking, he drove along the well-wooded approach, and gained the
+large ground-space before the door, whence a carriage was about to drive
+away. "Oh, doctor," cried a voice, "I'm so glad you 're come; they are
+most impatient for you." It was the Solicitor-General, Mr. Pemberton,
+who now came up to the window of Beattie's carriage.
+
+"He has become quite unmanageable, will not admit a word of counsel or
+advice, resists all interference, and insists on going out for a drive."
+
+"I see him at the window," said Beattie; "he is beckoning to me;
+good-bye," and he passed on and entered the house.
+
+In the chief drawing-room, in a deep recess of a window, sat the Chief
+Baron, dressed as if to go out, with an overcoat and even his gloves
+on. "Come and drive with me, Beattie," cried he, in a feeble but harsh
+voice. "If I take my man Leonard, they 'll say it was a keeper. You know
+that the 'Post' has it this morning that it is my mind which has given
+way. They say they 've seen me breaking for years back. Good heavens!
+can it be possible, think you, that the mites in a cheese speculate over
+the nature of the man that eats them? You stopped to talk with Pemberton
+I saw; what did he say to you?"
+
+"Nothing particular,--a mere greeting, I think."
+
+"No, sir, it was not; he was asking you how many hours there lay between
+him and the Attorney-Generalship. They 've divided the carcase already.
+The lion has to assist at his autopsy,--rather hard, is n't it? How it
+embitters death, to think of the fellows who are to replace us!"
+
+"Let me feel your pulse."
+
+"Don't trust it, Beattie; that little dialogue of yours on the grass
+plot has sent it up thirty beats; how many is it?"
+
+"Rapid,--very rapid; you need rest,--tranquillity."
+
+"And you can't give me either, sir; neither you nor your craft. You are
+the Augurs of modern civilization, and we cling to your predictions just
+as our forefathers did, though we never believe you."
+
+"This is not flattery," said Beattie, with a slight smile.
+
+The old man closed his eyes, and passed his hand slowly over his
+forehead. "I suppose I was dreaming, Beattie, just before you came up;
+but I thought I saw them all in the Hall, talking and laughing over
+my death. Burrowes was telling how old I must be, because I moved the
+amendment to Flood in the Irish Parliament in '97; and Eames mentioned
+that I was Curran's junior in the great Bagenal record; and old Tysdal
+set them all in a roar by saying he had a vision of me standing at
+the gate of heaven, and instead of going in, as St. Peter invited me,
+stoutly refusing, and declaring I would move for a new trial! How like
+the rascals!"
+
+"Don't you think you'd be better in your own room? There's too much
+light and glare here."
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"I am sure of it. You need quiet, and the absence of all that stimulates
+the action of the brain."
+
+"And what do _you_, sir,--what does any one,--know about the brain's
+operations? You doctors have invented a sort of conventional cerebral
+organ, which, like lunar caustic, is decomposed by light; and in your
+vulgar materialism you would make out that what affects _your_ brain
+must act alike upon _mine_. I tell you, sir, it is darkness--obscurity,
+physical or moral, it matters not which--that irritates _me_, just as I
+feel provoked this moment by this muddling talk of yours about brain."
+
+"And yet I 'm talking about what my daily life and habits suggest _some_
+knowledge of," said Beattie, mildly.
+
+"So you are, sir, and the presumption is all on my side. If you'll
+kindly lend me your arm, I'll go back to my room."
+
+Step by step, slowly and painfully, he returned to his chamber, not
+uttering a word as he went.
+
+"Yes, this is better, doctor; this half light soothes; it is much
+pleasanter. One more kindness. I wrote to Lady Lendrick this morning to
+come up here. I suppose my combative spirit was high in me, and I wanted
+a round with the gloves,--or, indeed, without them; at all events, I
+sent the challenge. But _now_, doctor, I have to own myself a craven. I
+dread the visit Could you manage to interpose? Could you suggest that
+it is by your order I am not permitted to receive her? Could you
+hint"--here he smiled half maliciously--"that you do not think the time
+has come for anodynes,--eh, doctor?"
+
+"Leave it to me. I 'll speak to Lady Lendrick."
+
+"There 's another thing: not that it much matters; but it might perhaps
+be as well to send a few lines to the morning papers, to say the
+accounts of the Chief Baron are more favorable to-day; he passed a
+tranquil night, and so on. Pemberton won't like it, nor Hayes; but
+it will calm the fears of a very attached friend who calls here twice
+daily. You'd never guess him. He is the agent of the Globe Office, where
+I 'm insured. Ah, doctor, it was a bright thought of Philanthropy
+to establish an industrial enterprise that is bound, under heavy
+recognizances, to be grieved at our death."
+
+"I must not make you talk, Sir William. I must not encourage you
+to exert yourself. I 'll say good-bye, and look in upon you this
+afternoon."
+
+"Am I to have a book? Well; be it so. I I 'll sit and muse over the
+Attorney-General and his hopes."
+
+"I have got two very interesting miniatures here. I 'll leave them with
+you; you might like to look at them."
+
+"Miniatures! whose portraits are they?" asked the other, hastily, as he
+almost snatched them from his hand. "What a miserable juggler! what a
+stale trick this!" said he, as he opened the case which contained the
+young man's picture. "So, sir, you lend yourself to such attempts as
+these."
+
+"I don't understand you," said Beattie, indignantly.
+
+"Yes, sir, you understand me perfectly. You would do, by a piece of
+legerdemain, what you have not the courage to attempt openly. These are
+Tom Lendrick's children."
+
+"They are."
+
+"And this simpering young lady is her mother's image; pretty, pretty, no
+doubt; and a little--a shade, perhaps--of _espieglerie_ above what her
+mother possessed. She was the silliest woman that ever turned a fool's
+head. She had the ineffable folly, sir, to believe she could persuade
+me to forgive my son for having married her; and when I handed her to a
+seat,--for she was at my knees,--she fainted."
+
+"Well. It is time to forgive him now. As for her, she is beyond
+forgiveness, or favor, either," said Beattie, with more energy than
+before.
+
+"There is no such trial to a man in a high calling as the temptation
+it offers him to step beyond it. Take care, sir, that with all your
+acknowledged ability, this temptation be not too much for you." The tone
+and manner in which the old judge delivered these words recalled the
+justice-seat. "It is an honor to me to have you as my doctor, sir.
+It would be to disparage my own intelligence to accept you as my
+confessor."
+
+"A doctor but discharges half his trust when he fails to warn his
+patient against the effects of irritability."
+
+"The man who would presume to minister to my temper or to my nature
+should be no longer medico of mine. With what intention, sir, did you
+bring me these miniatures?"
+
+"That you might see two bright and beautiful faces whose owners are
+bound to you by the strongest ties of blood."
+
+"Do you know, sir,--have you ever heard,--how their father, by his
+wilfulness, by his folly, by his heartless denial of my right to
+influence him, ruined the fortune that cost my life of struggle and
+labor to create?"
+
+The doctor shook his head, and the other continued: "Then I will tell
+it to you, sir. It is more than seventeen years to-day when the then
+Viceroy sent for me, and said, 'Baron Lendrick, there is no man, after
+Plunkett, to whom we owe more than to yourself.' I bowed, and said,
+'I do not accept the qualification, my Lord, even in favor of the
+distinguished Chancellor. I will not believe myself second to any.' I
+need not relate what ensued; the discussion was a long one,--it was also
+a warm one; but he came back at last to the object of the interview,
+which was to say that the Prime Minister was willing to recommend my
+name to her Majesty for the Peerage,--an honor, he was pleased to say,
+the public would see conferred upon me with approval; and I refused!
+Yes, sir, I refused what for thirty-odd years had formed the pride and
+the prize of my existence! I refused it, because I would not that her
+Majesty's favor should descend to one so unworthy of it as this
+fellow, or that his low-born children should inherit a high name of my
+procuring. I refused, sir, and I told the noble Marquess my reasons. He
+tried--pretty much as you have tried--to bring me to a more forgiving
+spirit; but I stopped him by saying, 'When I hear that your Excellency
+has invited to your table the scurrilous author of the lampoon against
+you in the "Satirist," I will begin to listen to the claims that may be
+urged on the score of forgiveness; not till then.'"
+
+"I am wrong--very wrong--to let you talk on themes like this; we must
+keep them for calmer moments." Beattie laid his finger on the pulse as
+he spoke, and counted the beats by his watch.
+
+"Well, sir, what says Death? Will he consent to a 'nolle prosequi,' or
+must the cause go on?"
+
+"You are not worse; and even that, after all this excitement, is
+something. Good-bye now till evening. No books,--no newspapers,
+remember. Doze; dream; do anything but excite yourself."
+
+"You are cruel, sir; you cut off all my enjoyments together. You deny
+me the resources of reading, and you deny me the solace of my wife's
+society." The cutting sarcasm of the last words was shown in the
+spiteful sparkle of his eye, and the insolent curl of his mouth; and
+as the doctor retired, the memory of that wicked look haunted him
+throughout the day.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. HOME DIPLOMACIES
+
+"Well, it 's done now, Lucy, and it can't be helped," said young
+Lendrick to his sister, as, with an unlighted cigar between his
+lips, and his hands in the pockets of his shooting-jacket, he walked
+impatiently up and down the drawing-room. "I 'm sure if I only suspected
+you were so strongly against it, I 'd not have done it."
+
+"My dear Tom, I'm only against it because I think papa would be so. You
+know we never see any one here when he is at home, and why should we
+now, because he is absent?"
+
+"Just for that reason. It's our only chance, girl."
+
+"Oh, Tom!"
+
+"Well, I don't mean that exactly, but I said it to startle you. No,
+Lucy; but, you see, here's how the matter stands. I have been three
+whole days in their company. On Tuesday the young fellow gave me that
+book of flies and the top-joint of my rod. Yesterday I lunched with
+them. To-day they pressed me so hard to dine with them that I felt
+almost rude in persisting to refuse; and it was as much to avoid the
+awkwardness of the situation as anything else that I asked them up to
+tea this evening."
+
+"I'm sure, Tom, if it would give you any pleasure--"
+
+"Of course it gives me pleasure," broke he in; "I don't suspect that
+fellows of my age like to live like hermits. And whom do I ever see down
+here? Old Mills and old Tobin, and Larry Day, the dog-breaker. I ask his
+pardon for putting him last, for he is the best of the three. Girls can
+stand this sort of nun's life, but I 'll be hanged if it will do for
+us."
+
+"And then, Tom," resumed she, in the same tone, "remember they are both
+perfect strangers. I doubt if you even know their names."
+
+"That I do,--the old fellow is Sir Brook something or other. It 's not
+Fogey, but it begins like it; and the other is called Trafford,--Lionel,
+I think, is his Christian name. A glorious fellow, too; was in the 9th
+Lancers and in the blues, and is now here with the fifty--th because he
+went it too hard in the cavalry. He had a horse for the Derby two years
+ago." The tone of proud triumph in which he made this announcement
+seemed to say, Now, all discussion about him may cease. "Not but," added
+he, after a pause, "you might like the old fellow best; he has such a
+world of stories, and he draws so beautifully. The whole time we were in
+the boat he was sketching something; and he has a book full of odds
+and ends; a tea-party in China, quail-shooting in Java, a wedding in
+Candia,--I can't tell what more; but he 's to bring them up here with
+him."
+
+"I was thinking, Tom, that it might be as well if you 'd go down and ask
+Dr. Mills to come to tea. It would take off some of the awkwardness of
+our receiving two strangers."
+
+"But they 're not strangers, Lucy; not a bit of it. I call him Trafford,
+and he calls me Lendrick; and the old cove is the most familiar old
+fellow I ever met."
+
+"Have you said anything to Nicholas yet?" asked she, in some eagerness.
+
+"No; and that's exactly what I want you to do for me. That old bear
+bullies us all, so that I can't trust myself to speak to him."
+
+"Well, don't go away, and I'll send for him now;" and she rang the bell
+as she spoke. A smart-looking lad answered the summons, to whom she
+said, "Tell Nicholas I want him."
+
+"Take my advice, Lucy, and merely say there are two gentlemen coming to
+tea this evening; don't let the old villain think you are consulting him
+about it, or asking his advice."
+
+"I must do it my own way," said she; "only don't interrupt. Don't
+meddle,--mind that, Tom." The door opened, and a very short, thick-set
+old man, dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, and drab breeches and
+white stockings, with large shoe-buckles in his shoes, entered. His face
+was large and red, the mouth immensely wide, and the eyes far set from
+each other, his low forehead being shadowed by a wig of coarse red
+hair, which moved when he spoke, and seemed almost to possess a sort of
+independent vitality.
+
+He had been reading when he was summoned, and his spectacles had been
+pushed up over his forehead, while he still held the county paper in his
+hand,--a sort of proud protest against being disturbed.
+
+"You heard that Miss Lucy sent for you?" said Tom Lendrick, haughtily,
+as his eye fell upon the newspaper.
+
+"I did," was the curt answer, as the old fellow, with a nervous shake of
+the head, seemed to announce that he was ready for battle.
+
+"What I wanted, Nicholas, was this," interposed the girl, in a voice of
+very winning sweetness; "Mr. Tom has invited two gentlemen this evening
+to tea."
+
+"To tay!" cried Nicholas, as if the fact staggered all credulity.
+
+"Yes, to tea; and I was thinking if you would go down to the town and
+get some biscuits, or a sponge-cake, perhaps--whatever, indeed, you
+thought best; and also beg Dr. Mills to step in, saying that as papa was
+away--"
+
+"That you was going to give a ball?"
+
+"No. Not exactly that, Nicholas," said she, smiling; "but that two
+friends of my brother's--"
+
+"And where did he meet his friends?" cried he, with a marked emphasis on
+the "friends." "Two strangers. God knows who or what! Poachers as like
+as anything else. The ould one might be worse."
+
+"Enough of this," said Tom, sternly. "Are you the master here? Go off,
+sir, and do what Miss Lucy has ordered you."
+
+"I will not,--the devil a step," said the old man, who now thrust the
+paper into a capacious pocket, and struck each hand on a hip. "Is it
+when the 'Jidge' is dying, when the newpapers has a column of the names
+that 's calling to ask after him, you are to be carousing and feastin'
+here?"
+
+"Dear Nicholas, there's no question of feasting. It is simply a cup
+of tea we mean to give; sorely there's no carousing in that. And as to
+grandpapa, papa says that he was certainly better yesterday, and Dr.
+Beattie has hopes now."
+
+"I have n't, then, and I know him better than Dr. Beattie."
+
+"What a pity they have n't sent for you for the consultation!" said Tom,
+ironically.
+
+"And look here, Nicholas," said Lucy, drawing the old man towards the
+door of a small room that led off the drawing-room, "we could have tea
+here; it will look less formal, and give less trouble; and Mears could
+wait,--he does it very well; and you need n't be put out at all."
+These last words fell to a whisper; but he was beyond reserve, beyond
+flattery. The last speech of her brother still rankled in his memory,
+and all that fell upon his ear since that fell unheeded.
+
+"I was with your grandfather, Master Tom," said the old man, slowly,
+"twenty-one years before you were born! I carried his bag down to Court
+the day he defended Neal O' Gorman for high treason, and I was with him
+the morning he shot Luke Dillon at Castle Knock; and this I 'll say and
+stand to, there 's not a man in Ireland, high or low, knows the Chief
+Baron better than myself."
+
+"It must be a great comfort to you both," said Tom; but his sister had
+laid her hand on his mouth and made the words unintelligible.
+
+"You'll say to Mr. Mills, Nicholas," said she, in her most coaxing way,
+"that I did not write, because I preferred sending my message by _you_,
+who could explain why I particularly wanted him this evening."
+
+"I'll go, Miss Lucy, resarving the point, as they say in the
+law,--resarving the point! because I don't give in that what you're
+doin' is right; and when the master comes home, I'm not goin' to defend
+it."
+
+"We must bear up under that calamity as well as we can," said the young
+man, insolently; but Nicholas never looked towards or seemed to hear
+him.
+
+"A barn-a-brack is better than a spongecake, because if there 's some of
+it left it does n't get stale, and one-and-six-pence will be enough; and
+I suppose you don't need a lamp?"
+
+"Well, Nicholas, I must say, I think it would be better; and two candles
+on the small table, and two on the piano."
+
+"Why don't you mentiou a fiddler?" said he, bitterly. "If it's a ball,
+there ought to be music?"
+
+Unable to control himself longer, young Lendrick wrenched open the
+sash-door, and walked out into the lawn.
+
+"The devil such a family for temper from this to Bantry!" said Nicholas;
+"and here's the company comin' already, or I 'm mistaken. There 's a
+boat makin' for the landing-place with two men in the stern."
+
+Lucy implored him once more to lose no time on his errand, and hastened
+away to make some change in her dress to receive the strangers.
+Meanwhile Tom, having seen the boat, walked down to the shore to meet
+his friends.
+
+Both Sir Brook and Trafford were enthusiastic in their praises of the
+spot. Its natural beauty was indeed great, but taste and culture had
+rendered it a marvel of elegance and refinement. Not merely were the
+trees grouped with reference to foliage and tint, but the flower-beds
+were so arranged that the laws of color should be respected, and thus
+these plats of perfume were not less luxuriously rich in odor than they
+were captivating as pictures.
+
+"It is all the governor's own doing," said Tom, proudly, "and he is
+continually changing the disposition of the plants. He says variety is
+a law of the natural world, and it is our duty to imitate it. Here comes
+my sister, gentlemen."
+
+As though set in a beautiful frame, the lovely girl stood for an instant
+in the porch, where drooping honeysuckles and the tangled branches of
+a vine hung around her, and then came courteously to meet and welcome
+them.
+
+"I am in ecstasy with all I see here, Miss Lendrick," said Sir Brook.
+"Old traveller that I am, I scarcely know where I have ever seen such a
+combination of beauty."
+
+"Papa will be delighted to hear this," said she, with a pleasant smile;
+"it is the flattery he loves best."
+
+"I 'm always saying we could keep up a salmon-weir on the river for a
+tithe of what these carnations and primroses cost us," said Tom.
+
+"Why, sir, if you had been in Eden you 'd have made it a market garden,"
+said the old man.
+
+"If the governor was a Duke of Devonshire, all these-caprices might be
+pardonable; but my theory is, roast-beef before roses."
+
+While young Lendrick attached himself to Trafford, and took him here and
+there to show him the grounds, Sir Brook walked beside Lucy, who did the
+honors of the place with a most charming courtesy.
+
+"I am almost ashamed, sir," said she, as they turned towards the house,
+"to have asked you to see such humble objects as these to which we
+attach value, for my brother tells me you are a great traveller; but
+it is just possible you have met in your journeys others who, like us,
+lived so much out of the world that they fancied they had the prettiest
+spot in it for their own."
+
+"You must not ask me what I think of all I have seen: here, Miss
+Lendrick, till my enthusiasm calms down;" and his look of admiration,
+so palpably addressed to herself, sent a flush to her cheek. "A man's
+belongings are his history," said Sir Brook, quickly turning the
+conversation into an easier channel: "show me his study, his stable,
+his garden; let me see his hat, his cane, the volume he thrusts into
+his pocket, and I 'll make you an indifferent good guess about his daily
+doings."
+
+"Tell me of papa's. Come here, Tom," cried she, as the two young men
+came towards her, "and listen to a bit of divination."
+
+"Nay, I never promised a lecture. I offered a confidence," said he, in
+a half whisper; but she went on: "Sir Brook says that he reads people
+pretty much as Cuvier pronounced on a mastodon, by some small minute
+detail that pertained to them. Here's Tom's cigar-case," said she,
+taking it from his pocket; "what do you infer from that, sir?"
+
+"That he smokes the most execrable tobacco."
+
+"But can you say why?" asked Tom, with a sly twinkle of his eye.
+
+"Probably for the same reason I do myself," said Sir Brook, producing a
+very cheap cigar.
+
+"Oh, that's a veritable Cuban compared to one of mine," cried Tom; "and
+by way of making my future life miserable, here has been Mr. Trafford
+filling my pocket with real havannahs, giving me a taste for luxuries I
+ought never to have known of."
+
+"Know everything, sir, go everywhere, see all that the world can show
+you; the wider a man's experiences the larger his nature and the more
+open his heart," said Foss-brooke, boldly.
+
+"I like the theory," said Trafford to Miss Lendrick; "do you?"
+
+"Sir Brook never meant it for women, I fancy," said she, in a low tone;
+but the old man overheard her, and said: "You are right. The guide ought
+to know every part of the mountain; the traveller need only know the
+path."
+
+"Here comes a guide who is satisfied with very short excursions," cried
+Tom, laughing; "this is our parson, Dr. Mills."
+
+The little, mellow-looking, well-cared-for person who now joined them
+was a perfect type of old-bachelorhood, in its aspect of not unpleasant
+selfishness. Everything about him was neat, orderly, and appropriate;
+and though you saw at a glance it was all for himself and his own
+enjoyment it was provided, his good manners and courtesy were ever ready
+to extend its benefits to others; and a certain genial look he wore, and
+a manner that nature had gifted him with, did him right good service in
+life, and made him pass for "an excellent fellow, though not much of a
+parson."
+
+He was of use now, if only that by his presence Lucy felt more at ease,
+not to say that his violoncello, which always remained at the Nest, made
+a pleasant accompaniment when she played, and that he sang with much
+taste some of those lyrics which arc as much linked to Ireland by poetry
+as by music.
+
+"I wish he was our chaplain,--by Jove I do!" whispered Trafford to
+Lendrick; "he's the jolliest fellow of his cloth I have ever met."
+
+"And such a cook," muttered the other.
+
+"A cook!"
+
+"Ay, a cook. I 'll make him ask us to dinner, and you 'll tell me if you
+ever ate fish as he gives it, or tasted macaroni as dressed by him. I
+have a salmon for you, doctor, a ten-pound fish. I wish it were bigger!
+but it is in splendid order."
+
+"Did you set it?" asked the parson, eagerly.
+
+"What does he mean by set it?" whispered Trafford.
+
+"Setting means plunging it in very hot water soon after killing it,
+to preserve and harden the 'curd.' Yes; and I took your hint about the
+arbutus leaves, too, doctor. I covered it all up with them."
+
+"You are a teachable youth, and shall be rewarded. Come and eat him
+to-morrow. Dare I hope that these gentlemen are disengaged, and will
+honor my poor parsonage? Will you favor me with your company at five
+o'clock, sir?"
+
+Sir Brook bowed, and accepted the invitation with pleasure.
+
+"And you, sir?"
+
+"Only too happy," said Trafford.
+
+"Lucy, my dear, you must be one of us."
+
+"Oh, I could not; it is impossible, doctor,--you know it is."
+
+"I know nothing of the kind."
+
+"Papa away,--not to speak of his never encouraging us to leave home,"
+muttered she, in a whisper.
+
+"I accept no excuses, Lucy; such a rare opportunity may not occur to me
+in a hurry. Mrs. Brennan, my housekeeper, will be so proud to see you,
+that I 'm not sure she 'll not treat these gentlemen to her brandy
+peaches,--a delicacy, I feel bound to say, she has never conceded to any
+one less than the bishop of the diocese."
+
+"Don't ask me, doctor. I know that papa--"
+
+But he broke in, saying,--"'You know I 'm your priest, and your
+conscience is mine;' and besides, I really do want to see how the
+parsonage will look with a lady at the top of the table: who knows what
+it may lead to?"
+
+"Come, Lucy, that's the nearest thing to a proposal I 've heard for some
+time. You really must go now," said Tom.
+
+"Papa will not like it," whispered she in his ear.
+
+"Then he'll have to settle the matter with me, Lucy," said the doctor,
+"for it was I who overruled you."
+
+"Don't look to me, Miss Lendrick, to sustain you in your refusal," said
+Sir Brook, as the young girl turned towards him. "I have the strongest
+interest in seeing the doctor successful."
+
+If Trafford said nothing, the glance he gave her more than backed the
+old man's speech, and she turned away half vexed, half pleased, puzzled
+how to act, and flattered at the same time by an amount of attention so
+new to her and so strange. Still she could not bring herself to promise
+she would go, and wished them all good-night at last, without a pledge.
+
+"Of course she will," muttered Tom in the doctor's ear. "She's afraid
+of the governor; but I know he'll not be displeased,--you may reckon on
+her."
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND
+
+From the day that Sir Brook made the acquaintance of Tom Lendrick and
+his sister, he determined he would "pitch his tent," as he called it,
+for some time at Killaloe. They had, so to say, captivated the old man.
+The young fellow, by his frank, open, manly nature, his ardent love
+of sport in every shape, his invariable good-humor, and more than all
+these, by the unaffected simplicity of his character, had strongly
+interested him; while Lucy had made a far deeper impression by her
+gentleness, her refinement, an elegance in deportment that no teaching
+ever gives, and, along with these, a mind stored with thought and
+reflectiveness. Let us, however, be just to each, and own that her
+beauty and the marvellous fascination of her smile gave her, even in
+that old man's eyes, an irresistible charm. It was a very long bygone,
+but he had once been in love, and the faint flicker of the memory
+had yet survived in his heart. It was just as likely Lucy bore no
+resemblance to her he had loved, but he fancied she did,--he imagined
+that she was her very image. That was the smile, the glance, the tone,
+the gesture which once had set his heart a-throbbing, and the illusion
+threw around her an immense fascination.
+
+She liked him too. Through all the strange incongruities of his
+character, his restless love of adventure and excitement, there ran a
+gentle liking for quiet pleasures. He loved scenery passionately, and
+with a painter's taste for color and form; he loved poetry, which he
+read with a wondrous charm of voice and intonation. Nor was it without
+its peculiar power, this homage of an old, old man, who rendered her the
+attentive service of a devoted admirer.
+
+There is very subtle flattery in the obsequious devotion of age to
+youth. It is, at least, an honest worship, an unselfish offering, and in
+this way the object of it may well feel proud of its tribute.
+
+From the vicar, Dr. Mills, Fossbrooke had learned the chief events
+of Dr. Lendrick's history, of his estrangement from his father, his
+fastidious retirement from the world, and, last of all, his narrow
+fortune, apparently now growing narrower, since within the last year he
+had withdrawn his son from the University on the score of its expense.
+
+A gold-medallist and a scholar, Dr. Lendrick would have eagerly coveted
+such honors for his son. It was, probably, the one triumph in life he
+would have set most store by, but Tom was one not made for collegiate
+successes. He had abilities, but they were not teachable qualities;
+he could pick up a certain amount of almost anything,--he could learn
+nothing. He could carry away from a chance conversation an amount of
+knowledge it had cost the talkers years to acquire, and yet set him
+down regularly to work book-fashion, and either from want of energy, or
+concentration, or of that strong will which masters difficulties just
+as a full current carries all before it--whichever of these was his
+defect,--he arose from his task wearied, worn, but unadvanced.
+
+When, therefore, his father would speak, as he sometimes did,
+in confidence to the vicar, in a tone of depression about Tom's
+deficiencies, the honest parson would feel perfectly lost in amazement
+at what he meant. To his eyes Tom Lendrick was a wonder, a prodigy.
+There was not a theme he could not talk on, and talk well too. "It was
+but the other day he told the chief engineer of the Shannon Company more
+about the geological formation of the river-basin than all his staff
+knew. Ay, and what's stranger," added the vicar, "he understands the
+whole Colenso controversy better than I do myself." It is just possible
+that in the last panegyric there was nothing of exaggeration or excess.
+"And with all that, sir, his father goes on brooding over his neglected
+education, and foreshadowing the worst results from his ignorance."
+
+"He is a fine fellow," said Fossbrooke, "but not to be compared with his
+sister."
+
+"Not for mere looks, perhaps, nor for a graceful manner, and a winning
+address; but who would think of ranking Lucy's abilities with her
+brother's?"
+
+"Not I," said Fossbrooke, boldly, "for I place hers far and away above
+them."
+
+A sly twinkle of the parson's eye showed to what class of advantages
+he ascribed the other's preference; but he said no more, and the
+controversy ended.
+
+Every morning found Sir Brook at the "Swan's Nest." He was fond of
+gardening, and had consummate taste in laying out ground, so that many
+pleasant surprises had been prepared for Dr. Lendrick's return. He drew,
+too, with great skill, and Lucy made considerable progress under his
+teaching; and as they grew more intimate, and she was not ashamed of the
+confession that she delighted in the Georgics of Virgil, they read whole
+hours together of those picturesque descriptions of rural life and its
+occupations, which are as true to nature at this hour as on the day they
+were written.
+
+Perhaps the old man fancied that it was he who had suggested this
+intense appreciation of the poet. It is just possible that the young
+girl believed that she had reclaimed a wild, erratic, eccentric nature,
+and brought him back ta the love of simple pleasures and a purer source
+of enjoyment. Whichever way the truth inclined, each was happy, each
+contented. And how fond are we all, of every age, of playing the
+missionary, of setting off into the savage districts of our neighbors'
+natures and combating their false idols, their superstitions and strange
+rites! The least adventurous and the least imaginative have these little
+outbursts of conversion, and all are more or less propagandists.
+
+It was one morning, a bright and glorious one too, that, while Tom
+and Lucy were yet at breakfast, Sir Brook arrived and entered the
+breakfast-room.
+
+"What a day for a gray hackle, in that dark pool under the larch-trees!"
+cried Tom, as he saw him.
+
+"What a day for a long walk to Mount Laurel!" said Lucy. "You said,
+t'other morning, you wanted cloud effects on the upper lake. I 'll show
+you splendid ones to-day."
+
+"I 'll promise you a full basket before four o'clock," broke in Tom.
+
+"I 'll promise you a full sketch-book," said Lucy, with one of her
+sweetest smiles.
+
+"And I 'm going to refuse both; for I have a plan of my own, and a plan
+not to be gainsaid."
+
+"I know it, You want us to go to work on that fish-pond. I'm certain
+it's that."
+
+"No, Tom; it's the catalogue,--the weary catalogue that he told me, as a
+punishment for not being able to find Machiavelli's comedies last week,
+he 'd make me sit down to on the first lovely morning that came."
+
+"Better that than those dreary Georgics which remind one of school, and
+the third form. But what 's your plan, Sir Brook? We have thought of all
+the projects that can terrify us, and you look as if it ought to be a
+terror."
+
+"Mine is a plan for pleasure, and pleasure only; so pack up at once and
+get ready. Trafford arrived this morning."
+
+"Where is he? I am so glad! Where's Trafford?" cried Tom, delighted.
+
+"I have despatched him with the vicar and two well-filled hampers to
+Holy Island, where I mean that we shall all picnic. There 's my plan."
+
+"And a jolly plan too! I adhere unconditionally."
+
+"And you, Lucy, what do you say?" asked Sir Brook, as the young girl
+stood with a look of some indecision and embarrassment.
+
+"I don't say that it's not a very pleasant project, but--"
+
+"But what, Lucy? Where 's the but?"
+
+She whispered a few words in his ear, and he cried out: "Is n't this too
+bad? She tells me Nicholas does not like all this gayety; that Nicholas
+disapproves of our mode of life."
+
+"No, Tom; I only said Nicholas thinks that papa would not like it."
+
+"Couldn't we see Nicholas? Couldn't we have a commission to examine
+Nicholas?" asked Sir Brook, laughingly.
+
+"I 'll not be on it, that 's all I know; for I should finish by chucking
+the witness into the Shannon. Come along, Lucy; don't let us lose this
+glorious morning. I 'll get some lines and hooks together. Be sure you
+'re ready when I come back."
+
+As the door closed after him, Sir Brook drew near to Lucy, where she
+stood in an attitude of doubt and hesitation. "I mustn't risk your good
+opinion of me rashly. If you really dislike this excursion, I will give
+it up," said he, in a low, gentle voice.
+
+"Dislike it? No; far from it. I suspect I would enjoy it more than
+any of you. My reluctance was simply on the ground that all this is
+so unlike the life we have been leading hitherto. Papa will surely
+disapprove of it. Oh, there comes Nicholas with a letter!" cried she,
+opening the sash-window. "Give it to me; it is from papa."
+
+She broke the seal hurriedly, and ran rapidly over the lines. "Oh, yes!
+I will go now, and go with delight too. It is full of good news. He is
+to see grandpapa, if not to-morrow, the day after. He hopes all will
+be well. Papa knows your name, Sir Brook. He says, 'Ask your friend
+Sir Brook if he be any relative of a Sir Brook Foss-brooke who rescued
+Captain Langton some forty years ago from a Neapolitan prison. The
+print-shops were filled with his likeness when I was a boy.' Was he one
+of your family?" inquired she, looking at him.
+
+"I am the man," said he, calmly and coldly. "Langton was sentenced to
+the galleys for life for having struck the Count d'Aconi across the face
+with his glove; and the Count was nephew to the King. They had him at
+Capri working in chains, and I landed with my yacht's crew and liberated
+him."
+
+"What a daring thing to do!"
+
+"Not so daring as you fancy. The guard was surprised, and fled. It was
+only when reinforced that they showed fight. Our toughest enemies were
+the galley-slaves, who, when they discovered that we never meant to
+liberate them, attacked us with stones. This scar on my temple is a
+memorial of the affair."
+
+"And Langton, what became of him?"
+
+"He is now Lord Burrowfield. He gave me two fingers to shake the last
+time I met him at the Travellers'."
+
+"Oh, don't say that! Oh, don't tell me of such ingratitude!"
+
+"My dear child, people usually regard gratitude as a debt which, once
+acknowledged, is acquitted; and perhaps they are right. It makes all
+intercourse freer and less trammelled."
+
+"Here comes Tom. May I tell him this story, or will you tell him
+yourself?"
+
+"Not either, my dear Lucy. Your brother's blood is over-hot as it is.
+Let him not have any promptings to such exploits as these."
+
+"But may I tell papa?"
+
+"Just as well not, Lucy. There were scores of wild things attributed to
+me in those days. He may possibly remember some of them, and begin to
+suspect that his daughter might be in better company."
+
+"How was it that you never told me of this exploit?" asked she, looking,
+not without admiration, at the hard stern features before her.
+
+"My dear child, egotism is the besetting sin of old people, and even
+the most cautious lapse into it occasionally. Set me once a-talking of
+myself, all my prudence, all my reserve vanishes; so that, as a measure
+of safety for my friends and myself too, I avoid the theme when I can.
+There! Tom is beckoning to us. Let us go to him at once."
+
+Holy Island, or Inishcaltra, to give it its Irish name, is a wild spot,
+with little remarkable about it, save the ruins of seven churches and
+a curious well of fabulous depth. It was, however, a favorite spot with
+the vicar, whose taste in localities was somehow always associated with
+some feature of festivity, the great merit of the present spot being
+that you could dine without any molestation from beggars. In such
+estimation, indeed, did he hold the class, that he seriously believed
+their craving importunity to be one of the chief reasons of dyspepsia,
+and was profoundly convinced that the presence of Lazarus at his gate
+counterbalanced many of the goods which fortune had bestowed upon Dives.
+
+"Here we dine in real comfort," said he, as he seated himself under the
+shelter of an ivy-covered wall, with a wide reach of the lake at his
+feet.
+
+"When I come back from California with that million or two," said
+Tom, "I 'll build a cottage here, where we can all come and dine
+continually."
+
+"Let us keep the anniversary of the present day as a sort of foundation
+era," said the vicar.
+
+"I like everything that promises pleasure," said Sir Brook, "but I like
+to stipulate that we do not draw too long a bill on Fortune. Think how
+long a year is. This time twelvemonth, for example, you, my dear doctor,
+may be a bishop, and not over inclined to these harmless levities. Tom
+there will be, as he hints, gold-crushing, at the end of the earth.
+Trafford, not improbably, ruling some rajah's kingdom in the far East.
+Of your destiny, fair Lucy, brightest of all, it is not for me to speak.
+Of my own it is not worth speaking."
+
+"Nolo episcopari," said the vicar; "pass me the Madeira."
+
+"You forget, perhaps, that is the phrase for accepting the mitre," said
+Sir Brook, laughing. "Bishops, like belles, say 'No' when they mean
+'Yes.'"
+
+"And who told you that belles did?" broke in Lucy. "I am in a sad
+minority here, but I stand up for my sex."
+
+"I repeat a popular prejudice, fair lady."
+
+"And Lucy will not have it that belles are as illogical as bishops? I
+see I was right in refusing the bench," said the vicar.
+
+"What bright boon of Fortune is Trafford meditating the rejection of?"
+said Sir Brook; and the young fellow's cheek grew crimson as he tried to
+laugh off the reply.
+
+"Who made this salad?" cried Tom.
+
+"It was I; who dares to question it?" said Lucy. "The doctor has
+helped himself twice to it, and that test I take to be a certificate to
+character."
+
+"I used to have some skill in dressing a salad, but I have foregone the
+practice for many a day; my culinary gift got me sent out of Austria in
+twenty-four hours. Oh, it 's nothing that deserves the name of a story,"
+said Sir Brook, as the others looked at him for an explanation. "It was
+as long ago as the year 1806. Sir Robert Adair had been our minister at
+Vienna, when, a rupture taking place between the two Governments, he was
+recalled. He did not, however, return to England, but continued to live
+as a private citizen at Vienna. Strangely enough, from the moment that
+our embassy ceased to be recognized by the Government, our countrymen
+became objects of especial civility. I myself, amongst the rest, was
+the _bien-venu_ in some of the great houses, and even invited by Count
+Cobourg Cohari to those _dejeuners_ which he gave with such splendor at
+Maria Huelfe.
+
+"At one of these, as a dish of salad was handed round, instead of eating
+it, like the others, I proceeded to make a very complicated dressing for
+it on my plate, calling for various condiments, and seasoning my mess in
+a most refined and ingenious manner. No sooner had I given the finishing
+touch to my great achievement than the Grand-Duchess Sophia, who it
+seems had watched the whole performance, sent a servant round to beg
+that I would send her my plate. She accompanied the request with a
+little bow and a smile whose charm I can still recall. Whatever the
+reason, before I awoke next morning, an agent of the police entered my
+room and informed me my passports were made out for Dresden, and that
+his orders were to give me the pleasure of his society till I crossed
+the frontier. There was no minister, no envoy to appeal to, and nothing
+left but to comply. They said 'Go,' and I went."
+
+"And all for a dish of salad!" cried the vicar.
+
+"All for the bright eyes of an archduchess, rather," broke in Lucy,
+laughing.
+
+The old man's grateful smile at the compliment to his gallantry showed
+how, even in a heart so world-worn, the vanity of youth survived.
+
+"I declare it was very hard," said Tom,--"precious hard."
+
+"If you mean to give up the salad, so think I too," cried the vicar.
+
+"I 'll be shot if I 'd have gone," broke in Trafford.
+
+"You'd probably have been shot if you had stayed," replied Tom.
+
+"There are things we submit to in life, not because the penalty of
+resistance affrights us, but because we half acquiesce in their justice.
+You, for instance, Trafford, are well pleased to be here on leave,
+and enjoy yourself, as I take it, considerably; and yet the call
+of duty--some very commonplace duty, perhaps--would make you return
+tomorrow in all haste."
+
+"Of course it would," said Lucy.
+
+"I 'm not so sure of it," murmured Trafford, sullenly; "I 'd rather go
+into close arrest for a week than I 'd lose this day here."
+
+"Bravo! here's your health, Lionel," cried Tom. "I do like to hear a
+fellow say he is willing to pay the cost of what pleases him."
+
+"I must preach wholesome doctrine, my young friends," broke in the
+vicar. "Now that we have dined well, I would like to say aword on
+abstinence."
+
+"You mean to take no coffee, doctor, then?" asked Lucy, laughing.
+
+"That I do, my sweet child,--coffee and a pipe, too, for I know you are
+tolerant of tobacco."
+
+"I hope she is," said Tom, "or she 'd have a poor time of it in the
+house with me."
+
+"I 'll put no coercion upon my tastes on this occasion, for I 'll take a
+stroll through the ruins, and leave you to your wine," said she, rising.
+
+They protested, in a mass, against her going. "We cannot lock the door,
+Lucy, _de facto_," said Sir Brook, "but we do it figuratively."
+
+"And in that case I make my escape by the window," said she, springing
+through an old lancet-shaped orifice in the Abbey wall.
+
+"There goes down the sun and leaves us but a gray twilight," said Sir
+Brook, mournfully, as he looked after her. "If there were only enough
+beauty on earth, I verily believe we might dispense with parsons."
+
+"Push me over the bird's-eye, and let me nourish myself till your
+millennium comes," said the vicar.
+
+"What a charming girl she is! her very beauty fades away before the
+graceful attraction of her manner!" whispered Sir Brook to the doctor.
+
+"Oh, if you but knew her as I do! If you but knew how, sacrificing all
+the springtime of her bright youth, she has never had a thought save
+to make herself the companion of her poor father,--a sad, depressed,
+sorrow-struck man, only rescued from despair by that companionship! I
+tell you, sir, there is more courage in submitting one's self to the
+nature of another than in facing a battery."
+
+Sir Brook grasped the parson's hand and shook it cordially. The action
+spoke more than any words. "And the brother, doctor,--what say you of
+the brother?" whispered he.
+
+"One of those that the old adage says 'either makes a spoon or spoils
+the horn.' That 's Master Tom there."
+
+Low as the words were uttered, they caught the sharp ears of him they
+spoke of, and with a laughing eye he cried out, "What 's that evil
+prediction you 're uttering about me, doctor?"
+
+"I am just telling Sir Brook here that it's pure head or tail how you
+turn out. There's stuff in you to make a hero, but it's just as likely
+you 'll stop short at a highwayman."
+
+"I think I could guess which of the two would best suit the age we live
+in," said Tom, gayly. "Are we to have another bottle of that Madeira,
+for I suspect I see the doctor putting up the corkscrew?"
+
+"You are to have no more wine than what's before you till you land me
+at the quay of Killaloe. When temperance means safety as well as
+forbearance, it's one of the first of virtues."
+
+The vicar, indeed, soon grew impatient to depart. Fine as the evening
+was then, it might change. There was a feeling, too, not of damp, but
+chilliness; at all events, he was averse to being on the water late; and
+as he was the great promoter of these little convivial gatherings, his
+word was law.
+
+It is not easy to explain how it happened that Trafford sat beside Lucy.
+Perhaps the trim of the boat required it; certainly, however, nothing
+required that the vicar, who sat next Lucy on the other side, should
+fall fast asleep almost as soon as he set foot on board. Meanwhile
+Sir Brook and Tom had engaged in an animated discussion as to the
+possibility of settling in Ireland as a man settles in some lone island
+in the Pacific, teaching the natives a few of the needs of civilization
+and picking up a few convenient ways of theirs in turn, Sir Brook
+warming with the theme so far as to exclaim at last, "If I only had a
+few of those thousands left me which I lost, squandered, or gave away, I
+'d try the scheme, and you should be my lieutenant, Tom."
+
+It was one of those projects, very pleasant in their way, where men can
+mingle the serious with the ludicrous, where actual wisdom may go hand
+in hand with downright absurdity; and so did they both understand it,
+mingling, the very sagest reflections with projects the wildest and most
+eccentric. Their life, as they sketched it, was to be almost savage in
+freedom, untrammelled by all the tiresome conventionalities of the outer
+world, and at the same time offering such an example of contentedness
+and comfort as to shame the condition of all without the Pale.
+
+They agreed that the vicar must join them; he should be their Bishop.
+He might grumble a little at first about the want of hot plates or
+finger-glasses, but he would soon fall into their ways, and some native
+squaw would console him for the loss of Mrs. Brennan's housekeeping
+gifts.
+
+And Trafford and Lucy all this time,--what did they talk of? Did they,
+too, imagine a future and plan out a life-road in company? Far too timid
+for that,--they lingered over the past, each asking some trait of the
+other's childhood, eager to hear any little incident which might
+mark character or indicate temper. And at last they came down to the
+present,--to the very hour they lived in, and laughingly wondered at
+the intimacy that had grown up between them. "Only twelve days to-morrow
+since we first met," said Lucy, and her color rose as she said it, "and
+here we are talking away as if--as if--"
+
+"As if what?" cried he, only by an effort suppressing her name as it
+rose to his lips.
+
+"As if we knew each other for years. To me it seems the strangest thing
+in the world,--I who have never had friendships or companionships. To
+you, I have no doubt, it is common enough."
+
+"But it is not," cried he, eagerly. "Such fortune never befell me
+before. I have gone a good deal into life,--seen scores of people in
+country-houses and the like; but I never met any one before I could
+speak to of myself,--I mean, that I had courage to tell--not that,
+exactly--but that I wanted them to know I was n't so bad a fellow--so
+reckless or so heartless as people thought me."
+
+"And is that the character you bear?" said she, with, though not visible
+to him, a faint smile on her mouth.
+
+"I think it's what my family would say of me,--I mean now, for once on a
+time I was a favorite at home."
+
+"And why are you not still?"
+
+"Because I was extravagant; because I went into debt; because I got
+very easily into scrapes, and very badly out of them,--not dishonorably,
+mind; the scrapes I speak of were money troubles, and they brought me
+into collision with my governor. That was how it came about I was sent
+over here. They meant as a punishment what has turned out the greatest
+happiness of my life."
+
+"How cold the water is!" said Lucy, as, taking off her glove, she
+suffered her hand to dip in the water beside the boat.
+
+"Deliciously cold," said he, as, plunging in his hand, he managed, as
+though by accident, to touch hers. She drew it rapidly away, however,
+and then, to prevent the conversation returning to its former channel,
+said aloud: "What _are_ you laughing over so heartily, Sir Brook? You
+and Tom appear to have fallen upon a mine of drollery. Do share it with
+us."
+
+"You shall hear it all one of these days, Lucy. Jog the doctor's arm now
+and wake him up, for I see the lights at the boat-house, and we shall
+soon be on shore."
+
+"And sorry I am for it," muttered Trafford, in a whisper; "I wish this
+night could be drawn out to years."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. WAITING ON
+
+On the sixth day after Dr. Lendrick's arrival in Dublin--a fruitless
+journey so far as any hope of reconciliation was concerned--he resolved
+to return home. His friend Beattie, however, induced him to delay
+his departure to the-next day, clinging to some small hope from a few
+words-that had dropped from Sir William on that same morning. "Let me
+see you to-night, doctor; I have a note to show you which I could not
+to-day with all these people about me." Now, the people in question
+resolved themselves into one person, Lady Lendrick, who indeed bustled
+into the room and out of it, slammed doors and upset chairs in a fashion
+that might well have excused the exaggeration that converted her into
+a noun of multitude. A very warm altercation had occurred, too, in the
+doctor's presence with reference to some letter from India, which
+Lady Lendrick was urging Sir William to reply to, but which he firmly
+declared he would not answer.
+
+"How I am to treat a man subject to such attacks of temper, so easily
+provoked, and so incessantly irritated, is not clear to me. At all
+events I will see him to-night, and hear what he has to say to me. I am
+sure it has no concern with this letter from India." With these words
+Beattie induced his friend to defer his journey for another day.
+
+It was a long and anxious day to poor Lendrick. It was not alone that
+he had to suffer the bitter disappointment of all his hopes of being
+received by his father and admitted to some gleam of future favor, but
+he had discovered that certain debts which he had believed long settled
+by the judge were still outstanding against him, Lady Lendrick having
+interfered to prevent their payment, while she assured the creditors
+that if they had patience Dr. Lendrick would one day or other be in a
+position to acquit them. Between two and three thousand pounds thus hung
+over him of indebtedness above all his calculations, and equally above
+all his ability to meet.
+
+"We thought you knew all this, Dr. Lendrick," said Mr. Hack, Sir
+William's agent; "we imagined you were a party to the arrangement,
+understanding that you were reluctant to bring these debts under the
+Chief Baron's eyes, being moneys lent to your wife's relations."
+
+"I believed that they were paid," was all his reply, for the story was
+a painful one of trust betrayed and confidence abused, and he did not
+desire to revive it. He had often been told that his stepmother was the
+real obstacle to all hope of reconciliation with his father, but that
+she had pushed her enmity to him to the extent of his ruin was more than
+he was prepared for. They had never met, but at one time letters had
+frequently passed between them. Hers were marvels of good wishes and
+kind intentions, dashed with certain melancholy reflections over some
+shadowy unknown something which had been the cause of his estrangement
+from his father, but which time and endurance might not impossibly
+diminish the bitterness of, though with very little hope of leading to
+a more amicable relation. She would assume, besides, occasionally a kind
+of companionship in sorrow, and, as though the confession had burst from
+her unawares, avow that Sir William's temper was more than human nature
+was called upon to submit to, and that years only added to those violent
+outbursts of passion which made the existence of all around him
+a perpetual martyrdom. These always wound up with some sweet
+congratulations on "Tom's good fortune in his life of peaceful
+retirement," and the "tranquil pleasures of that charming spot of which
+every one tells me such wonders, and which the hope of visiting is one
+of my most entrancing daydreams." We give the passage textually,
+because it occurred without a change of a word thus in no less than five
+different letters.
+
+This formal repetition of a phrase, and certain mistakes she made
+about the names of his children, first opened Lendrick's eyes as to
+the sincerity and affection of his correspondent, for he was the least
+suspicious of men, and regarded distrust as a disgrace to him who
+entertained it.
+
+Over all these things now did he ponder during this long dreary day.
+He did not like to go out lest he should meet old acquaintances and be
+interrogated about his father, of whom he knew less than almost every
+one. He shunned the tone of compassionate interest men met him with, and
+he dreaded even the old faces that reminded him of the past. He could
+not read: he tried, but could not. After a few minutes he found that
+his thoughts wandered off from the book and centred on his own concerns,
+till his head ached with the weary round of those difficulties which
+came ever back, and back, and back again undiminished, unrelieved, and
+unsolved. The embarrassments of life are not, like chess problems, to be
+resolved by a skilful combination: they are to be encountered by temper,
+by patience, by daring at one time, by submission at another, by a
+careful consideration of a man's own powers, and by a clear-sighted
+estimate of his neighbors; and all these exercised not beforehand, nor
+in retirement, but on the very field itself where the conflict is raging
+and the fight at its hottest.
+
+It was late at night when Beattie returned home, and entered the study
+where Lendrick sat awaiting him. "I am very late, Tom," said he, as he
+threw himself into an arm-chair, like one fatigued and exhausted; "but
+it was impossible to get away. Never in all my life have I seen him
+so full of anecdote, so abounding in pleasant recollections, so
+ready-witted, and so brilliant. I declare to you that if I could but
+recite the things he said, or give them even with a faint semblance of
+the way he told them, it would be the most amusing page of bygone
+Irish history. It was a grand review of all the celebrated men whom he
+remembered in his youth, from the eccentric Lord Bristol, the Bishop of
+Down, to O'Connell and Shiel. Nor did his own self-estimate, high as
+it was, make the picture in which he figured less striking, nor less
+memorable his concluding words, as he said, 'These fellows are all in
+history, Beattie,--every man of them. There are statues to them in our
+highways, and men visit the spots that gave them birth; and here am I,
+second to none of them. Trinity College and the Four Courts will tell
+you if I speak in vanity; and here am I; and the only question about me
+is, when I intend to vacate the bench, when it will be my good pleasure
+to resign--they are not particular which--my judgeship or my life. But,
+sir, I mean not to do either; I mean to live and protest against the
+inferiority of the men around me, and the ingratitude of the country
+that does not know how to appreciate the one man of eminence it
+possesses.' I assure you, Tom, vain and insolent as the speech was, as
+I listened I thought it was neither. There was a haughty dignity
+about him, to which his noble bead and his deep sonorous voice and his
+commanding look lent effect that overcame all thought of attributing to
+such a man any over-estimate of his powers."
+
+"And this note that he wished to show you,--what was it?"
+
+"Oh, the note was a few lines written in an adjoining room by Balfour,
+the Viceroy's secretary. It seems that his Excellency, finding all other
+seductions fail, thought of approaching your father through you."
+
+"Through _me!_ It was a bright inspiration."
+
+"Yes; he sent Balfour to ask if the Chief Baron would feel gratified by
+the post of Hospital Inspector at the Cape being offered to you. It is
+worth eight hundred a year, and a house."
+
+"Well, what answer did he give?" asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+
+"He directed Balfour, who only saw Lady Lendrick, to reduce the proposal
+to writing. I don't fancy that the accomplished young gentleman exactly
+liked the task, but he did not care to refuse, and so he sat down and
+wrote one of the worst notes I ever read."
+
+"Worst--in what way?"
+
+"In every way. It was scarcely intelligible, without a previous
+knowledge of its contents, and so worded as to imply that when the Chief
+Baron had acceded to the proposal, he had so bound himself in gratitude
+to the Government that all honorable retreat was closed to him. I wish
+you saw your father's face when he read it. 'Beattie,' said he, 'I have
+no right to say Tom must refuse this offer; but if he should do so, I
+will make the document you see there be read in the House, and my
+name is not William Lendrick if it do not cost them more than they are
+prepared for. Go now and consult your friend;' it was so he called you.
+'If his wants are such that this place is of consequence to him, let him
+accept it. I shall not ask his reasons for whatever course he may take.
+_My_ reply is already written, and to his Excellency in person.' This
+he said in a way to imply that its tone was one not remarkable for
+conciliation or courtesy.
+
+"I thought the opportunity a favorable one to say that you were in town
+at the moment, that the accounts of his illness had brought you up, and
+that you were staying at my house.
+
+"'The sooner will you be able to communicate with him, sir,' said he,
+haughtily."
+
+"No more than that!"
+
+"No more, except that he added, 'Remember, sir, his acceptance or his
+refusal is to be his own act, not to be intimated in any way to me, nor
+to come through me.'"
+
+"This is unnecessary harshness," said Lendrick, with a quivering lip;
+"there was no need to tell me how estranged we are from each other."
+
+"I fancied I could detect a struggle with himself in all his sternness;
+and his hand trembled when I took it to say 'good-bye.' I was going to
+ask if you might not be permitted to see him, even for a brief moment;
+but I was afraid, lest in refusing he might make a reconciliation still
+more remote, and so I merely said, 'May I leave you those miniatures I
+showed you a few days ago? 'His answer was, 'You may leave them, sir.'
+
+"As I came down to the hall, I met Lady Lendrick. She was in evening
+dress, going out, but had evidently waited to Catch me as I passed.
+
+"'You find the Chief much better, don't you?' asked she. I bowed and
+assented.. 'And he will be better still,' added she, 'when all these
+anxieties are over.' She saw that I did not or would not apprehend her
+meaning, and added, 'I mean about this resignation, which, of course,
+you will advise him to. The Government are really behaving so very well,
+so liberal, and withal so delicate. If they had been our own people, I
+doubt if they would have shown anything like the same generosity.'
+
+"'I have heard of nothing but the offer to Dr. Lendrick,' said I.
+
+"She seemed confused, and moved on; and then recovering herself, said,
+'And a most handsome offer it is. I hope he thinks so.'
+
+"With this we parted, and I believe now I have told you almost word for
+word everything that occurred concerning you."
+
+"And what do _you_ say to all this, Beattie?" asked Lendrick, in a
+half-sad tone.
+
+"I say that if in your place, Tom, I would accept. It may be that the
+Chief Baron will interpose and say, Don't go; or it may be that your
+readiness to work for your bread should conciliate him; he has long had
+the impression that you are indisposed to exertion, and too fond of your
+own ease."
+
+"I know it,--I know it; Lady Lendrick has intimated as much to me."
+
+"At all events, you can make no mistake in entertaining the project; and
+certainly the offer is not to be despised."
+
+"It is of him, and of him alone, I am thinking, Beattie. If he would let
+me see him, admit me once more on my old terms of affection, I would go
+anywhere, do anything that he counselled. Try, my dear friend, to bring
+this about; do your best for me, and remember I will subscribe to any
+terms, submit to anything, if he will only be reconciled to me."
+
+"It will be hard if we cannot manage this somehow," said Beattie; "but
+now let us to bed. It is past two o'clock. Good-night, Tom; sleep well,
+and don't dream of the Cape or the Caffres."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOR
+
+That ancient and incongruous pile which goes by the name of the Castle
+in Dublin, and to which Irishmen very generally look as the well from
+which all honors and places flow, is not remarkable for either the
+splendor or space it affords to the inmates beneath its roof. Upheld
+by a great prestige perhaps, as in the case of certain distinguished
+people, who affect a humble exterior and very simple belongings, it may
+deem that its own transcendent importance has no need of accessories.
+Certainly the ugliness of its outside is in noway unbalanced by the
+meanness within; and even the very highest of those who claim its
+hospitality are lodged in no-princely fashion.
+
+In a corner of the old red brick quadrangle, to the right of the state
+entrance, in a small room whose two narrow windows looked into a lane,
+sat a very well-dressed young-gentleman at a writing-table. Short, and
+disposed to roundness in face as well as figure, Mr. Cholmondely Balfour
+scarcely responded in appearance to his imposing name. Nature had not
+been as bountiful, perhaps, as Fortune; for while he was rich,
+well born, and considerably gifted in abilities, his features were
+unmistakably common and vulgar, and all the aids of dress could not
+atone for the meanness in his general look. Had he simply accepted his
+image as a thing to be quietly borne and submitted to, the case might
+not have been so very bad; but he took it as something to be corrected,
+changed, and ameliorated, and the result was a perpetual struggle
+to make the most ordinary traits and commonplace features appear the
+impress of one on whom Nature had written gentleman. It would have been
+no easy task to have imposed on him in a question of his duty. He was
+the private secretary of the Viceroy, who was his maternal uncle. It
+would have been a tough task to have misled or deceived him in any
+matter open to his intelligence to examine; but upon this theme there
+was not the inventor of a hair-wash, a skin-paste, a whisker-dye, or a
+pearl-powder that might not have led him captive. A bishop might have
+found difficulty in getting audience of him,--a barber might have
+entered unannounced; and while the lieutenant of a county sat waiting in
+the antechamber, the tailor, with a new waistcoat pattern, walked
+boldly into the august presence. Entering life by that _petite porte_
+of politics, an Irish office, he had conceived a very humble estimate
+of the people amongst whom he was placed. Regarding his extradition from
+Whitehall and its precincts as a sort of probationary banishment, he
+felt, however, its necessity; and as naval men are accredited with two
+years of service for every one year on the coast of Africa, Mr. Balfour
+was aware that a grateful Government could equally recognize the
+devotion of him who gave some of the years of his youth to the Fernando
+Po of statecraft.
+
+This impression, being rarely personal in its consequences, was not of
+much moment; but it was conjoined with a more serious error, which was
+to imagine that all rule and governance in Ireland should be carried
+on with a Machiavellian subtlety. The people, he had heard, were
+quick-witted; he must therefore out-manoeuvre them. Jobbery had been,
+he was told, the ruin of Ireland; he would show its inefficiency by
+the superior skill with which he could wield its weapon. To be sure
+his office was a very minor one, its influence very restricted, but Mr.
+Balfour was ambitious; he was a Viceroy's nephew; he had sat for months
+in the House, from which he had been turned out on a petition. He had
+therefore social advantages to build on, abilities to display, and
+wrongs to avenge; and as a man too late for the train speculates during
+the day how far on his road he might have been by this time or by that,
+so did Mr. Balfour continually keep reminding himself how, but for that
+confounded petition, he might now have been a Treasury this or a
+Board of Trade that,--a corporal, in fact, in that great army whose
+commissioned officers are amongst the highest in Europe.
+
+Let us now present him to our reader, as he lay back in his chair, and
+by a hand-bell summoned his messenger.
+
+"I say, Watkins, when Clancey calls about those trousers show him
+in, and send some one over to the packet-office about the
+phosphorus blacking; you know we are on the last jar of it. If the
+Solicitor-General should come--"
+
+"He is here, sir; he has been waiting these twenty minutes. I told him
+you were with his Excellency."
+
+"So I was,--so I always am," said he, throwing a half-smoked cigar into
+the fire. "Admit him."
+
+A pale, care-worn, anxious-looking man, whose face was not without
+traces of annoyance at the length of time he had been kept waiting, now
+entered and sat down.
+
+"Just where we were yesterday, Pemberton," said Balfour, as he rose and
+stood with his back to the fire, the tails of his gorgeous dressing-gown
+hanging over his arms. "Intractable as he ever was; he won't die, and he
+won't resign."
+
+"His friends say he is perfectly willing to resign if you agree to his
+terms."
+
+"That may be possible; the question is, What are his terms? Have you a
+precedent of a Chief Baron being raised to the peerage?"
+
+"It's not, as I understand, the peerage he insists on; he inclines to a
+moneyed arrangement."
+
+"We are too poor, Pemberton,--we are too poor. There's a deep gap in our
+customs this quarter. It's reduction we must think of, not outlay."
+
+"If the changes _are_ to be made," said the other, with a tone of
+impatience, "I certainly ought to be told at once, or I shall have no
+time left for my canvass."
+
+"An Irish borough, Pemberton,--an Irish borough requires so little,"
+said Balfour, with a compassionate smile.
+
+"Such is not the opinion over here, sir," said Pemberton, stiffly; "and
+I might even suggest some caution in saying it."
+
+"Caution is the badge of all our tribe," said Balfour, with a burlesque
+gravity. "By the way, Pemberton, his Excellency is greatly disappointed
+at the issue of these Cork trials; why did n't you hang these fellows?"
+
+"Juries can no more be coerced here than in England; they brought them
+in not guilty."
+
+"We know all that, and we ask you why? There certainly was little room
+for doubt in the evidence."
+
+"When you have lived longer in Ireland, Mr. Balfour, you will learn
+that there are other considerations in a trial than the testimony of the
+witnesses."
+
+"That's exactly what I said to his Excellency; and I remarked, 'If
+Pemberton comes into the House, he must prepare for a sharp attack about
+these trials.'"
+
+"And it is exactly to ascertain if I am to enter Parliament that I have
+come here to-day," said the other, angrily.
+
+"Bring me the grateful tidings that the Lord Chief Baron has joined his
+illustrious predecessors in that distinguished court, I 'll answer you
+in five minutes."
+
+"Beattie declares he is better this morning. He says that he has in all
+probability years of life before him."
+
+"There 's nothing so hard to kill as a judge, except it be an
+archbishop. I believe a sedentary life does it; they say if a fellow
+will sit still and never move he may live to any age."
+
+Pemberton took an impatient turn up and down the room, and then wheeling
+about directly in front of Balfour, said, "If his Excellency knew,
+perhaps, that I do not want the House of Commons--"
+
+"Not want the House,--not wish to be in Parliament?"
+
+"Certainly not. If I enter the House, it is as a law-officer of the
+Crown; personally it is no object to me."
+
+"I'll not tell him that, Pem. I'll keep your secret safe, for I tell you
+frankly it would ruin you to reveal it."
+
+"It's no secret, sir; you may proclaim it,--you may publish it in the
+'Gazette,' But really we are wasting much valuable time here. It is now
+two o'clock, and I must go down to Court. I have only to say that if no
+arrangement be come to before this time to-morrow--" He stopped short.
+Another word might have committed him, but he pulled up in time.
+
+"Well, what then?" asked Balfour, with a half smile.
+
+"I have heard you pride yourself, Mr. Balfour," said the other,
+recovering, "on your skill in nice negotiation; why not try what you
+could do with the Chief Baron?"
+
+"Are there women in the family?" said Balfour, caressing his moustache.
+
+"No; only his wife."
+
+"I 've seen her," said he, contemptuously.
+
+"He quarrelled with his only son, and has not spoken to him, I believe,
+for nigh thirty years, and the poor fellow is struggling on as a country
+doctor somewhere in the west."
+
+"What if we were to propose to do something for him? Men are often not
+averse to see those assisted whom their own pride refuses to help."
+
+"I scarcely suspect you 'll acquire his gratitude that way."
+
+"We don't want his gratitude, we want his place. I declare I think the
+idea a good one. There's a thing now at the Cape, an inspectorship of
+something,--Hottentots or hospitals, I forget which. His Excellency
+asked to have the gift of it; what if we were to appoint this man?"
+
+"Make the crier of his Court a Commissioner in Chancery, and Baron
+Lendrick will be more obliged to you," said Pem-berton, with a sneer.
+"He is about the least forgiving man I ever knew or heard of."
+
+"Where is this son of his to be found?"
+
+"I saw him yesterday walking with Dr. Beattie. I have no doubt Beattie
+knows his address. But let me warn you once more against the inutility
+of the step you would take. I doubt if the old Judge would as much as
+thank you."
+
+Balfour turned round to the glass and smiled sweetly at himself, as
+though to say that he had heard of some one who knew how to make these
+negotiations successful,--a fellow of infinite readiness, a clever
+fellow, but withal one whose good looks and distinguished air left even
+his talents in the background.
+
+"I think I 'll call and see the Chief Baron myself," said he. "His
+Excellency sends twice a day to inquire, and I 'll take the opportunity
+to make him a visit,--that is, if he will receive me."
+
+"It is doubtful. At all events, let me give you one hint for your
+guidance. Neither let drop Mr. Attorney's name nor mine in your
+conversation; avoid the mention of any one whose career might be
+influenced by the Baron's retirement; and talk of him less as a human
+being than as an institution that is destined to endure as long as the
+British constitution."
+
+"I wish it was a woman--if it was only a woman I had to deal with, the
+whole affair might be deemed settled."
+
+"If you should be able to do anything before the mail goes out to-night,
+perhaps you will inform me," said Pem-berton, as he bowed and left
+the room. "And these are the men they send over here to administer
+the country!" muttered he, as he descended the stairs,--"such are the
+intelligences that are to rule Ireland! Was it Voltaire who said
+there was nothing so inscrutable in all the ways of Providence as the
+miserable smallness of those creatures to whom the destiny of nations
+was committed?"
+
+Ruminating over this, he hastened on to a _nisi prius_ case.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. A PUZZLING COMMISSION
+
+As Colonel Cave re-entered his quarters after morning parade in the
+Royal Barracks of Dublin, he found the following letter, which the post
+had just delivered. It was headed "Strictly Private," with three dashes
+under the words.
+
+"Holt-Trafford.
+
+"My dear Colonel Cave,--Sir Hugh is confined to bed with a severe attack
+of gout,--the doctors call it flying gout. He suffers greatly, and his
+nerves are in a state of irritation that makes all attempt at writing
+impossible. This will be my apology for obtruding upon you, though,
+perhaps, the cause in which I write might serve for excuse. We are in
+the deepest anxiety about Lionel. You are already aware how heavily his
+extravagance has cost us. His play-debts amounted to above ten thousand
+pounds, and all the cleverness of Mr. Joel has not been able to
+compromise with the tradespeople for less than as much more; nor are
+we yet done with demands from various quarters. It is not, however, of
+these that I desire to speak. Your kind offer to take him into your
+own regiment, and exercise the watchful supervision of a parent, has
+relieved us of much anxiety, and his own sincere affection for you is
+the strongest assurance we can have that the step has been a wise one.
+Our present uneasiness has however a deeper source than mere pecuniary
+embarrassment. The boy--he is very little more than a boy in years--has
+fallen in love, and gravely writes to his father for consent that he may
+marry. I assure you the shock brought back all Sir Hugh's most severe
+symptoms; and his left eye was attacked with an inflammation such as Dr.
+Gole says he never saw equalled. So far as the incoherency of his letter
+will permit us to guess, the girl is a person in a very humble condition
+of life, the daughter of a country doctor, of course without family or
+fortune. That he made her acquaintance by an accident, as he informs
+us, is also a reason to suppose that they are not people in society. The
+name, as well as I can decipher it, is Lendrich or Hendrich,--neither
+very distinguished!
+
+"Now, my dear Colonel, even to a second son, such an alliance would be
+perfectly intolerable,--totally at variance with all his father's plans
+for him, and inconsistent with the station he should occupy. But there
+are other considerations,--too sad ones, too melancholy indeed to
+be spoken of, except where the best interests of a family are to be
+regarded, which press upon us here. The last accounts of George from
+Madeira leave us scarcely a hope. The climate, from which so much was
+expected, has done nothing. The season has been unhappily most severe,
+and the doctors agree in declaring that the malady has not yielded
+in any respect. You will see, therefore, what a change any day may
+accomplish in Lionel's prospects, and how doubly important it is that
+he should contract no ties inconsistent with a station of no mean
+importance. Not that these considerations would weigh with Lionel in the
+least: he was always headstrong, rash, and self-willed; and if he were,
+or fancied that he were, bound in honor to do a thing, I know well that
+all persuasions would be unavailing to prevent him. I cannot believe,
+however, that matters can have gone so far here. This acquaintanceship
+must be of the very shortest; and however designing and crafty such
+people may be, there will surely be some means of showing them
+that their designs are impracticable, and of a nature only to bring
+disappointment and disgrace upon themselves. That Sir Hugh would give
+his consent is totally out of the question,--a thing not to be thought
+of for a moment; indeed I may tell you in confidence that his first
+thought on reading L.'s letter was to carry out a project to which
+George had already consented, and by which the entail should be cut off,
+and our third son, Harry, in that case would inherit. This will show you
+to what extent his indignation would carry him.
+
+"Now what is to be done? for, really, it is but time lost in deploring
+when prompt action alone can save us. Do you know, or do you know any
+one who does know, these Hendrichs or Lendrichs--who are they, what are
+they? Are they people to whom I could write myself, or are they in that
+rank in life which would enable us to make some sort of compromise?
+Again, could you in anyway obtain L.'s confidence, and make him open his
+heart to you _first?_ This is the more essential, because the moment he
+hears of anything like coercion or pressure, his whole spirit will rise
+in resistance, and he will be totally unmanageable. You have perhaps
+more influence over him than any one else, and even your influence he
+would resent if he suspected any dominance.
+
+"I am madly impatient to hear what you will suggest. Will it be to see
+these people, to reason with them, to explain to them the fruitlessness
+of what they are doing? Will it be to talk to the girl herself?
+
+"My first thought was to send for Lionel, as his father was so ill, but
+on consideration I felt that a meeting between them might be the thing
+of all others to be avoided. Indeed, in Sir Hugh's present temper, I
+dare not think of the consequences.
+
+"Might it be advisable to get Lionel attached to some foreign station?
+If so, I am sure I could manage it--only, would he go? there 's the
+question,--would he go? I am writing in such distress of mind, and so
+hurriedly too, that I really do not know what I have set down and what I
+have omitted. I trust, however, there is enough of this sad case before
+you to enable you to counsel me, or, what is much better, act for me. I
+wish I could send you L.'s letter, but Sir Hugh has put it away, and I
+cannot lay my hand on it. Its purport, however, was to obtain authority
+from us to approach this girl's relations as a suitor, and to show that
+his intentions were known to and concurred in by his family. The only
+gleam of hope in the epistle was his saying, 'I have not the slightest
+reason to believe she would accept me, but the approval of my friends
+will certainly give me the best chance.'
+
+"Now, my dear Colonel, compassionate my anxiety, and write to me at
+once--something--anything. Write such a letter as Sir Hugh may see; and
+if you have anything secret or confidential, enclose it as a separate
+slip. Was it not unfortunate that we refused that Indian appointment for
+him? All this misery might have been averted. You may imagine how Sir
+Hugh feels this conduct the more bitterly, coming, as I may say, on the
+back of all his late indiscretions.
+
+"Remember, finally, happen what may, this project must not go on. It is
+a question of the boy's whole future and life. To defy his father is to
+disinherit himself; and it is not impossible that this might be the most
+effectual argument you could employ with these people who now seek to
+entangle him.
+
+"I have certainly no reason to love Ireland. It was there that my cousin
+Cornwallis married that dreadful creature who is now suing him for
+cruelty, and exposing the family throughout England.
+
+"Sir Hugh gave directions last week about lodging the purchase-money
+for his company, but he wrote a few lines to Cox's last night--to what
+purport I cannot say--not impossibly to countermand it. What affliction
+all this is!"
+
+As Colonel Cave read over this letter for a second time, he was
+not without misgivings about the even small share to which he had
+contributed in this difficulty. It was evidently during the short
+leave he had granted that this acquaintanceship had been formed; and
+Fossbrooke's companionship was the very last thing in the world to deter
+a young and ardent fellow from anything high-flown or romantic. "I ought
+never to have thrown them together," muttered he, as he walked his room
+in doubt and deliberation.
+
+He rang his bell and sent for the adjutant. "Where 's Trafford?" asked
+he.
+
+"You gave him three days' leave yesterday, sir. He's gone down to that
+fishing-village where he went before."
+
+"Confound the place! Send for him at once--telegraph. No--let us
+see--his leave is up to-morrow?"
+
+"The next day at ten he was to report."
+
+"His father is ill,--an attack of gout," muttered the Colonel, to give
+some color to his agitated manner. "But it is better, perhaps, not to
+alarm him. The seizure seems passing off."
+
+"He said something about asking for a longer term; he wants a fortnight,
+I think. The season is just beginning now."
+
+"He shall not have it, sir. Take good care to warn him not to apply. It
+will breed discontent in the regiment to see a young fellow who has not
+been a year with us obtain a leave every ten or fifteen days."
+
+"If it were any other than Trafford, there would be plenty of grumbling.
+But he is such a favorite!"
+
+"I don't know that a worse accident could befall any man. Many a fine
+fellow has been taught selfishness by the over-estimate others have
+formed of him. See that you keep him to his duty, and that he is to look
+for no favoritism."
+
+The Colonel did not well know why he said this, nor did he stop to think
+what might come of it. It smacked, to his mind, however, of something
+prompt, active, and energetic.
+
+His next move was to write a short note to Lady Trafford, acknowledging
+hers, and saying that, Lionel being absent,--he did not add
+where,--nothing could be done till he should see him. "To-morrow--next
+day at farthest--I will report progress. I cannot believe the case to be
+so serious as you suppose; at all events, count upon me."
+
+"Stay!" cried he to the adjutant, who stood in the window awaiting
+further instructions; "on second thoughts, do telegraph. Say, 'Return at
+once.' This will prepare him for something."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. A BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE
+
+On the day after the picnic Sir Brook went by invitation to breakfast
+with the vicar.
+
+"When a man asks you to dinner," said Fossbrooke, "he generally wants
+you to talk; when he asks you to breakfast, he wants to talk to you."
+
+Whatever be the truth of this adage generally, it certainly-had its
+application in the present case. The vicar wanted very much to talk to
+Sir Brook.
+
+As they sat, therefore, over their coffee and devilled kidneys, chatting
+over the late excursion and hinting at another, the vicar suddenly said:
+"By the way, I want you to tell me something of the young fellow who
+was one of us yesterday. Tobin, our doctor here, who is a perfect
+commission-agent for scandal, says he is the greatest scamp going; that
+about eight or ten months ago the 'Times' was full of his exploits in
+bankruptcy; that his liabilities were tens of thousands,--assets
+_nil_. In a word, that, notwithstanding his frank, honest look, and his
+unaffected manner, he is the most accomplished scapegrace of the age."
+
+"And how much of this do you believe?" asked Sir Brook, as he helped
+himself to coffee.
+
+"That is not so easy to reply to; but I tell you, if you ask me, that I
+'d rather not believe one word of it."
+
+"Nor need you. His Colonel told me something about the young fellow's
+difficulties; he himself related the rest. He went most recklessly into
+debt; betted largely on races, and lost; lent freely, and lost; raised
+at ruinous interest, and renewed at still more ruinous; but his father
+has paid every shilling of it out of that fortune which one day was to
+have come to him, so that Lionel's thirty thousand pounds is now about
+eight thousand. I have put the whole story into the fewest possible
+words, but that's the substance of it."
+
+"And has it cured him of extravagance?"
+
+"Of course it has not. How should it? _You_ have lived some more years
+in the world than he has, and I a good many more than _you_, and
+will you tell me that time has cured either of us of any of our old
+shortcomings? _Non sum quails eram_ means, I can't be as wild as I used
+to be."
+
+"No, no; I won't agree to that. I protest most strongly against the
+doctrine. Many men are wiser through experience, and, consequently,
+better."
+
+"I sincerely believe I knew the world better at four-and-twenty than I
+know it now. The reason why we are less often deceived in after than
+in early life is not that we are more crafty or more keen-eyed. It is
+simply because we risk less. Let us hazard as much at sixty as we once
+did at six-and-twenty, and we 'll lose as heavily."
+
+The vicar paused a few moments over the other's words, and then said,
+"To come back to this young man, I half suspect he has formed an
+attachment to Lucy, and that he is doing his utmost to succeed in her
+favor."
+
+"And is there anything wrong in that, doctor?"
+
+"Not positively wrong; but there is what may lead to a great deal
+of unhappiness. Who is to say how Trafford's family would like the
+connection? Who is to answer for Lendrick's approval of Trafford?"
+
+"You induce me to make a confidence I have no right to impart; but I
+rely so implicitly on your discretion. I will tell you what was
+intrusted to me as a secret: Trafford has already written to his father
+to ask his consent."
+
+"Without speaking to Lendrick? without even being sure of Lucy's?"
+
+"Yes, without knowing anything of either; but on my advice he has first
+asked his father's permission to pay his addresses to the young lady.
+His position with his family is peculiar; he is a younger son, but
+not exactly as free as most younger sons feel to act for themselves. I
+cannot now explain this more fully, but it is enough if you understand
+that he is entirely dependent on his father. When I came to know this,
+and when I saw that he was becoming desperately in love, I insisted on
+this appeal to his friends before he either entangled Lucy in a promise,
+or even made any declaration himself. He showed me the letter before
+he posted it. It was all I could wish. It is not a very easy task for
+a young fellow to tell his father he 's in love; but he, in the very
+frankness of his nature, acquitted himself well and manfully."
+
+"And what answer has he received?"
+
+"None as yet. Two posts have passed. He might have heard through
+either of them; but no letter has come, and he is feverishly uneasy and
+anxious."
+
+The vicar was silent, but a grave motion of his head implied doubt and
+fear.
+
+"Yes," said Sir Brook, answering the gesture,--"yes, I agree with you.
+The Traffords are great folk in their own country. Trafford was a strong
+place in Saxon times. They have pride enough for all this blood, and
+wealth enough for both pride and blood."
+
+"They 'd find their match in Lendrick, quiet and simple as he seems,"
+said the vicar.
+
+"Which makes the matter worse. Who is to give way? Who is to _ceder le
+pas?_"
+
+"I am not so sure I should have advised that letter. I am inclined to
+think I would have counselled more time, more consideration. Fathers and
+mothers are prudently averse to these loves at first sight, and they are
+merciless in dealing with what they deem a mere passing sentiment."
+
+"Better that than suffer him to engage the girl's affections, and then
+learn that he must either desert her or marry her against the feeling
+of his family. Let us have a stroll in the garden. I have made you one
+confidence; I will now make you another."
+
+They lit their cigars, and strolled out into a long alley fenced on one
+side by a tall dense hedge of laurels, and flanked on the other by a low
+wall, over which the view took in the wide reach of the river and the
+distant mountains of Scariff and Meelick.
+
+"Was not that where we picnicked yesterday?" asked Sir Brook, pointing
+to an island in the distance.
+
+"No; you cannot see Holy Island from this."
+
+Sir Brook smoked on for some minutes without a word; at last, with a
+sort of abruptness, he said, "She was so like her, not only in face and
+figure, but her manner; the very tone of her voice was like; and then
+that half-caressing, half-timid way she has in conversation, and, more
+than all, the sly quietness with which she caps you when you fancy that
+the smart success is all your own."
+
+"Of whom are you speaking?"
+
+"Of another Lucy," said Sir Brook, with a deep melancholy. "Heaven
+grant that the resemblance follow them not in their lives as in their
+features! It was that likeness, however, which first attracted me
+towards Miss Lendrick. The first moment I saw her it overcame me; as I
+grew to know her better, it almost confused me, and made me jumble in
+your hearing things of long ago with the present. Time and space were
+both forgotten, and I found my mind straying away to scenes in the
+Himalaya with those I shall never see more. It was thus that, one day
+carried away by this delusion, I chanced to call her Lucy, and she
+laughingly begged me not to retract it, but so to call her always." For
+some minutes he was silent, and then resumed: "I don't know if you ever
+heard of a Colonel Frank Dillon, who served on Napier's staff in Scinde.
+Fiery Frank was his nickname among his comrades, but it only applied
+to him on the field of battle, and with an enemy in front. Then he was
+indeed fiery,--the excitement rose to almost madness, and led him to
+acts of almost incredible daring. At Meanee he was nearly cut to pieces,
+and as he lay wounded, and to all appearance dying, he received a
+lance-wound through the chest that the surgeon declared must prove
+fatal. He lived, however, for eight months after,--he lived long enough
+to reach the Himalayas, where his daughter, an only child, joined him
+from England. On her way out she became acquainted with a young officer,
+who was coming out as aide-de-camp to the Governor-General. They were
+constantly thrown together on the journey, and his attentions to her
+soon showed the sentiments he had conceived for her. In fact, very soon
+after Lucy had joined her father, Captain Sewell appeared 'in the Hills'
+to make a formal demand of her in marriage.
+
+"I was there at the time, and I remember well poor Dillon's expression
+of disappointment after the first meeting with him. His daughter's
+enthusiastic description of his looks, his manner, his abilities, his
+qualities generally, had perhaps prepared him for too much. Indeed,
+Lucy's own intense admiration for the soldierlike character of her
+father's features assisted the mistake; for, as Dillon said, 'There must
+be a dash of the _sabreur_ in the fellow that will win Lucy.' I came
+into Dillon's room immediately after the first interview. The instant
+I caught his eye I read what was going on in his brain. 'Sit down here,
+Brook,' cried he, 'sit in my chair here;' and he arose painfully as he
+spoke. 'I'll show you the man.' With this he hobbled over to a table
+where his cap lay, and, placing it rakishly on one side of his head, he
+stuck his eyeglass in one eye, and, with a hand in his trousers-pocket,
+lounged forward towards where I sat, saying, 'How d' ye do, Colonel?
+Wound doing better, I hope. The breezy climate up here soon set you up.'
+'Familiar enough this, sir,' cried Dillon, in his own stern voice; 'but
+without time to breathe, as it were,--before almost I had exchanged
+a greeting with him,--he entered upon the object of his journey. I
+scarcely heard a word he said; I knew its purport,--I could mark the
+theme,--but no more. It was not the fellow himself that filled my mind;
+my whole thoughts were upon my daughter, and I went on repeating to
+myself, "Good heavens! is this Lucy's choice? Am I in a trance? Is
+it this contemptible cur (for he was a cur, sir) that has won the
+affections of my darling, high-hearted, generous girl? Is the romantic
+spirit that I have so loved to see in her to bear no better fruit than
+this? Does the fellow realize to her mind the hero that fills men's
+thoughts?" I was so overcome, so excited, so confused, Brook, that I
+begged him to leave me for a while, that one of my attacks of pain was
+coming on, and that I should not be able to converse farther He said
+something about trying one of his cheroots,--some impertinence or other,
+I forget what; but he left me, and I, who never knew a touch of girlish
+weakness in my life, who when a child had no mood of softness in my
+nature,--I felt the tears trickling along my cheeks, and my eyes dimmed
+with them.' My poor friend," continued Fossbrooke, "could not go on; his
+emotions mastered him, and he sat with his head buried between his hands
+and in silence. At last he said, 'She 'll not give him up, Brook; I have
+spoken to her,--she actually loves him. Good heavens!' he cried, 'how
+little do we know about our children's hearts! how far astray are we as
+to the natures that have grown up beside us, imbibing, as we thought,
+our hopes, our wishes, and our prejudices! We awake some day to discover
+that some other influence has crept in to undo our teachings, and
+that the fidelity on which we would have staked our lives has changed
+allegiance.'
+
+"He talked to me long in this strain, and I saw that the effects of this
+blow to all his hopes had made themselves deeply felt on his chance of
+recovery. It only needed a great shock to depress him to make his case
+hopeless. Within two months after his daughter's arrival he was no more.
+
+"I became Lucy's guardian. Poor Dillon gave me the entire control over
+her future fortune, and left me to occupy towards her the place he had
+himself held. I believe that next to her father I held the best place
+in her affections,--of such affections, I mean, as are accorded to
+a parent. I was her godfather, and from her earliest infancy she had
+learned to love me. The reserve--it was positive coldness--with which
+Dillon had always treated Sewell had caused a certain distance, for the
+first time in their lives, between the father and daughter. She thought,
+naturally enough, that her father was unjust; that, unaccustomed to the
+new tone of manners which had grown up amongst young men,--their greater
+ease, their less rigid observance of ceremonial, their more liberal
+self-indulgence,--he was unfairly severe upon her lover. She was
+annoyed, too, that Sewells attempts to conciliate the old man should
+have turned out such complete failures. But none of these prejudices
+extended to me, and she counted much on the good understanding that she
+expected to find grow up between us.
+
+"If I could have prevented the marriage, I would. I learned many things
+of the man that I disliked. There is no worse sign of a man than to be
+at the same time a man of pleasure and friendless. These he was,--he was
+foremost in every plan of amusement and dissipation, and yet none liked
+him. Vain fellows get quizzed for their vanity, and selfish men laughed
+at for their selfishness, and close men for their avarice; but there
+is a combination of vanity, egotism, small craftiness, and
+self-preservation in certain fellows that is totally repugnant to all
+companionship. Their lives are a series of petty successes, not owing
+to any superior ability or greater boldness of daring, but to a studious
+outlook for small opportunities. They are ever alive to know the 'right
+man,' to be invited to the 'right house,' to say the 'right thing.'
+Never linked with whatever is in disgrace or misfortune, they are always
+found backing the winning horse, if not riding him.
+
+"Such men as these, so long as the world goes well with them, and events
+turn out fortunately, are regarded simply as sharp, shrewd fellows,
+with a keen eye to their own interests. When, however, the weight of
+any misfortune comes, when the time arrives that they have to bear up
+against the hard pressure of life, these fellows come forth in their
+true colors, swindlers and cheats.
+
+"Such was he. Finding that I was determined to settle the small fortune
+her father had left her inalienably on herself, he defeated me by a
+private marriage. He then launched out into a life of extravagance to
+which their means bore no proportion. I was a rich man in those days,
+and knew nothing better to do with my money than assist the daughter of
+my oldest friend. The gallant Captain did not balk my good intentions.
+He first accepted, he then borrowed, and last of all he forged my name.
+I paid the bills and saved him, not for his sake, I need not tell you,
+but for hers, who threw herself at my feet, and implored me not to see
+them ruined. Even this act of hers he turned to profit. He wrote to
+me to say that he knew his wife had been to my house, that he had long
+nurtured suspicions against me,--I that was many years older than her
+own father,--that for the future he desired all acquaintance should
+cease between us, and that I should not again cross his threshold.
+
+"By what persuasions or by what menaces he led his wife to the step, I
+do not know; but she passed me when we met without a recognition. This
+was the hardest blow of all. I tried to write her a letter; but after a
+score of attempts I gave it up, and left the place.
+
+"I never saw her for eight years. I wish I had not seen her then. I
+am an old, hardened man of the world, one whom life has taught all its
+lessons to in the sternest fashion. I have been so baffled and beaten,
+and thrown back by all my attempts to think well of the world, that
+nothing short of a dogged resolution not to desert my colors has rescued
+me from a cold misanthropy; and yet, till I saw, I did not believe
+there was a new pang of misery my heart had not tasted. What? it is
+incredible,--surely that is not she who once was Lucy Dillon,--that
+bold-faced woman with lustrous eyes and rouged cheeks,--brilliant,
+indeed, and beautiful, but not the beauty that is allied to the
+thought of virtue,--whose every look is a wile, whose every action is
+entanglement. She was leaning on a great man's arm, and in the smile she
+gave him told me how she knew to purchase such distinctions. He noticed
+me, and shook my hand as I passed. I heard him tell her who I was; and
+I heard her say that I had been a hanger-on, a sort of dependant of her
+father's, but she never liked me! I tried to laugh, but the pain was too
+deep. I came away, and saw her no more."
+
+He ceased speaking, and for some time they walked along side by side
+without a word. At last he broke out: "Don't believe the people who say
+that men are taught by anything they experience in life. Outwardly they
+may affect it. They may assume this or that manner. The heart cannot
+play the hypocrite, and no frequency of disaster diminishes the smart.
+The wondrous resemblance Miss Lendrick bears to Lucy Dillon renews to my
+memory the bright days of her early beauty, when her poor father would
+call her to sit down at his feet and read to him, that he might gaze
+at will on her, weaving whole histories of future happiness and joy for
+her. 'Is it not like sunshine in the room to see her, Brook?' would he
+whisper to me. 'I only heard her voice as she passed under my window
+this morning, and I forgot some dark thought that was troubling me.'
+And there was no exaggeration in this. The sweet music of her tones
+"vibrated so softly on the ear, they soothed the sense, just as we feel
+soothed by the gentle ripple of a stream.
+
+"All these times come back to me since I have been here, and I cannot
+tell you how the very sorrow that is associated with them has its power
+over me. Every one knows with what attachment the heart will cling to
+some little spot in a far-away land that reminds one of a loved place at
+home,--how we delight to bring back old memories, and how we even like
+to name old names, to cheat ourselves back into the past. So it is that
+I feel when I see this girl. The other Lucy was once as my daughter; so,
+too, do I regard her, and with this comes that dreadful sorrow I have
+told you of, giving my interest in her an intensity unspeakable. When
+I saw Trafford's attention to her, the only thing I thought of was
+how unlike he was to him who won the other Lucy. His frank, unaffected
+bearing, his fine, manly trustfulness, the very opposite to the other's
+qualities, made me his friend at once. When I say friend, I mean
+well-wisher, for my friendship now bears no other fruit. Time was when
+it was otherwise."
+
+"What is it, William?" cried the vicar, as his servant came hurriedly
+forward.
+
+"There 's a gentleman in the drawing-room, sir, wants to see Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke."
+
+"Have I your leave?" said the old man, bowing low. "I 'll join you here
+immediately."
+
+Within a few moments he was back again. "It was Trafford. He has just
+got a telegram to call him to his regiment. He suspects something has
+gone wrong; and seeing his agitation, I offered to go back with him. We
+start within an hour."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN
+
+The vicar having some business to transact in Limerick, agreed to
+go that far with Sir Brook and Trafford, and accompanied them to the
+railroad to see them off.
+
+A down train from Dublin arrived as they were waiting, and a passenger,
+descending, hastily hurried after the vicar, and seized his hand. The
+vicar, in evident delight, forgot his other friends for a moment,
+and became deeply interested in the new-comer. "We must say good-bye,
+doctor," said Fossbrooke; "here comes our train."
+
+"A thousand pardons, my dear Sir Brook. The unlooked-for arrival of my
+friend here--but I believe you don't know him. Lendrick, come here,
+I want to present you to Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Captain Trafford, Dr.
+Lendrick."
+
+"I hope these gentlemen are not departing," said Lendrick, with the
+constraint of a bashful man.
+
+"It is our misfortune to do so," said Sir Brook; "but I have passed too
+many happy hours in this neighborhood not to come back to it as soon as
+I can."
+
+"I hope we shall see you. I hope I may have an opportunity of thanking
+you, Sir Brook."
+
+"Dublin! Dublin! Dublin! get in, gentlemen: first class, this way, sir,"
+screamed a guard, amidst a thundering rumble, a scream, and a hiss. All
+other words were drowned, and with a cordial shake-hands the new friends
+parted.
+
+"Is the younger man his son?" asked Lendrick; "I did not catch the
+name?"
+
+"No; he's Trafford, a son of Sir Hugh Trafford,--a Lincolnshire man,
+isn't he?"
+
+"I don't know. It was of the other I was thinking. I felt it so strange
+to see a man of whom when a boy I used to hear so much. I have an old
+print somewhere of two over-dressed 'Bloods,' as they were called in
+those days, with immense whiskers, styled 'Fossy and Fussy,' meaning Sir
+Brook and the Baron Geramb, a German friend and follower of the Prince."
+
+"I suspect a good deal changed since that day, in person as well as
+purse," said the vicar, sadly.
+
+"Indeed! I heard of his having inherited some immense fortune."
+
+"So he did, and squandered every shilling of it."
+
+"And the chicks are well, you tell me?" said Lendrick, whose voice
+softened as he talked of home and his children.
+
+"Could n't be better. We had a little picnic on Holy Island yesterday,
+and only wanted yourself to have been perfectly happy. Lucy was for
+refusing at first."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Some notion she had that you would n't like it. Some idea about not
+doing in your absence anything that was not usual when you are here."
+
+"She is such a true girl, so loyal," said Lendrick, proudly.
+
+"Well, I take the treason on my shoulders. I made her come. It was a
+delightful day, and we drank your health in as good a glass of Madeira
+as ever ripened in the sun. Now for your own news?"
+
+"First let us get on the road. I am impatient to be back at home again.
+Have you your car here?"
+
+"All is ready, and waiting for you at the gate."
+
+As they drove briskly along, Lendrick gave the vicar a detailed account
+of his visit to Dublin. Passing over the first days, of which the reader
+already has heard something, we take up the story from the day on which
+Lendrick learned that his father would see him.
+
+"My mind was so full of myself, doctor," said he, "of all the
+consequences which had followed from my father's anger with me, that I
+had no thought of anything else till I entered the room where he was.
+Then, however, as I saw him propped up with pillows in a deep chair,
+his face pale, his eyes colorless, and his head swathed up in a bandage
+after leeching, my heart sickened, alike with sorrow and shame at my
+great selfishness.
+
+"I had been warned by Beattie on no account to let any show of feeling
+or emotion escape me, to be as cool and collected as possible, and in
+fact, he said, to behave as though I had seen him the day before.
+
+"'Leave the room, Poynder,' said he to his man, 'and suffer no one to
+knock at the door--mind, not even to knock--till I ring my bell.' He
+waited till the man withdrew, and then in a very gentle voice said, 'How
+are you, Tom? I can't give you my right hand,--the rebellious member
+has ceased to know me!' I thought I should choke as the words met me; I
+don't remember what I said, but I took my chair and sat down beside him.
+
+"'I thought you might have been too much agitated, Tom, but otherwise
+I should have wished to have had your advice along with Beattie. I
+believe, on the whole, however, he has treated me well.'
+
+"I assured him that none could have done more skilfully.
+
+"The skill of the doctor with an old patient is the skill of an
+architect with an old wall. He must not breach it, or it will tumble to
+pieces.
+
+"'Beattie is very able, sir,' said I.
+
+"'No man is able,' replied he, quickly, 'when the question is to repair
+the wastes of time and years. Draw that curtain, and let me look at
+you. No; stand yonder, where the light is stronger. What! is it my eyes
+deceive me,--is your hair white?'
+
+"'It has been so eight years, sir.'
+
+"'And I had not a gray hair till my seventy-second year,--not one. I
+told Beattie, t' other day, that the race of the strong was dying out.
+Good heavens, how old you look! Would any one believe in seeing us that
+you could be my son?'
+
+"'I feel perhaps even more than I look it, sir.'
+
+"'I could swear you did. You are the very stamp of those fellows who
+plead guilty--"Guilty, my Lord; we throw ourselves on the mercy of
+the court." I don't know how the great judgment-seat regards these
+pleas,--with _me_ they meet only scorn. Give me the man who says, "Try
+me, test me." Drop that curtain, and draw the screen across the fire.
+Speak lower, too, my dear,' said he, in a weak soft voice; 'you suffer
+yourself to grow excited, and you excite me.'
+
+"'I will be more cautious, sir,' said I.
+
+"'What are these drops he is giving me? They have an acrid sweet taste.'
+
+"'Aconite, sir; a weak solution.'
+
+"'They say that our laws never forgot feudalism, but I declare I believe
+medicine has never been able to ignore alchemy: drop me out twenty, I
+see that your hand does not shake. Strange thought, is it not, to feel
+that a little phial like that could make a new Baron of the Exchequer?
+You have heard, I suppose, of the attempts--the indecent attempts--to
+induce me to resign. You have heard what they say of my age. They quote
+the registry of my baptism, as though it were the date of a conviction.
+I have yet to learn that the years a man has devoted to his country's
+service are counts in the indictment against his character. Age has been
+less merciful to me than to my fellows,--it has neither made me deaf
+to rancor nor blind to ingratitude. I told the Lord-Lieutenant so
+yesterday.'
+
+"'You saw him then, sir?' asked I.
+
+"'Yes, he was gracious enough to call here; he sent his secretary to ask
+if I would receive a visit from him. I thought that a little more tact
+might have been expected from a man in his station,--it is the common
+gift of those in high places. I perceive,' added he, after a pause, 'you
+don't see what I mean. It is this: royalties, or mock royalties, for
+they are the same in this, condescend to these visits as deathbed
+attentions. They come to us with their courtesies as the priest comes
+with his holy cruet, only when they have the assurance that we are
+beyond recovery. His Excellency ought to have felt that the man to
+whom he proposed this attention was not one to misunderstand its
+significance.'
+
+"'Did he remain long, sir?'
+
+"'Two hours and forty minutes. I measured it by my watch.'
+
+"'Was the fatigue not too much for you?'
+
+"'Of course it was; I fainted before he got to his carriage. He twice
+rose to go away, but on each occasion I had something to say that
+induced him to sit down again. It was the whole case of Ireland we
+reviewed,--that is, I did. I deployed the six millions before him,
+and he took the salute. Yes, sir, education, religious animosities,
+land-tenure, drainage, emigration, secret societies, the rebel priest
+and the intolerant parson, even nationality and mendicant insolence, all
+marched past, and he took the salute! "And now, my Lord," said I, "it is
+the man who tells you these things, who has the courage to tell and the
+ability to display them, and it is this man for whose retirement your
+Ex-lency is so eager, that you have actually deigned to make him a
+visit, that he may carry away into the next world, perhaps, a pleasing
+memory of this; it is this man, I say, whom you propose to replace--and
+by what, my Lord, and by whom? Will a mere lawyer, will any amount of
+_nisi prius_ craft or precedent, give you the qualities you need on that
+bench, or that you need, sadly need, at this council-board? Go back, my
+Lord, and tell your colleagues of the Cabinet that Providence is more
+merciful than a Premier, and that the same overruling hand that has
+sustained me through this trial will uphold me, I trust, for years to
+serve my country, and save it for some time longer from your blundering
+legislation."
+
+"'He stood up, sir, like a prisoner when under sentence; he stood up,
+sir, and as he bowed, I waved my adieu to him as though saying, You
+have heard me, and you are not to carry away from this place a hope, the
+faintest, that any change will come over the determination I have this
+day declared.
+
+"'He went away, and I fainted. The exertion was too long sustained,
+too much for me. I believe, after all,' added he, with a smile, 'his
+Excellency bore it very little better. He told the Archbishop the same
+evening that he'd not go through another such morning for "the garter."
+Men in his station hear so little of truth that it revolts them like
+coarse diet. They 'd rather abstain altogether till forced by actual
+hunger to touch it. When they come to me, however, it is the only fare
+they will find before them.'
+
+"There was a long pause after this," continued Lendrick. "I saw that
+the theme had greatly excited him, and I forbore to say a word, lest
+he should be led to resume it. 'Too old for the bench!' burst he out
+suddenly; 'my Lord, there are men who are never too old, as there are
+those who are never too young. The oak is but a sapling when the pine is
+in decay. Is there that glut of intellect just now in England, are we
+so surfeited with ability that, to make room for the coming men, we, who
+have made our mark on the age, must retire into obscurity?' He tried
+to rise from his seat; his face was flushed, and his eyes flashing; he
+evidently forgot where he was, and with whom, for he sank back with
+a faint sigh, and said, 'Let us talk of it no more. Let us think of
+something else. Indeed, it was to talk of something else I desired to
+see you.' He went on, then, to say that he wished something could be
+done for me. His own means were, he said, sadly crippled; he spoke
+bitterly, resentfully, I thought. 'It is too long a story to enter on,
+and were it briefer, too disagreeable a one,' added he. 'I ought to be a
+rich man, and I am poor; I should be powerful, and I have no influence.
+All has gone ill with me.' After a silence, he continued, 'They have
+a place to offer you: the inspectorship, I think they call it, of
+hospitals at the Cape; it is worth, altogether, nigh a thousand a year,
+a thing not to be refused.'
+
+"'The offer could only be made in compliment to you, sir; and if my
+acceptance were to compromise your position--'
+
+"'Compromise _me!_' broke he in. 'I 'll take care it shall not. No man
+need instruct me in the art of self-defence, sir. Accept at once.'
+
+"'I will do whatever you desire, sir,' was my answer.
+
+"'Go out there yourself, alone,--at first, I mean. Let your boy continue
+his college career; the girl shall come to me.'
+
+"'I have never been separated from my children, sir,' said I, almost
+trembling with anxiety.
+
+"'Such separations are bearable,' added he, 'when it is duty dictates
+them, not disobedience.'
+
+"He fixed his eyes sternly on me, and I trembled as I thought that the
+long score of years was at last come to the reckoning. He did not dwell
+on the theme, however, but in a tone of much gentler meaning, went
+on: 'It will be an act of mercy to let me see a loving face, to hear a
+tender voice. Your boy would be too rough for me.'
+
+"'You would like him, sir. He is thoroughly truthful and honest.'
+
+"'So he may, and yet be self-willed, be noisy, be over-redolent of that
+youth which age resents like outrage. Give me the girl, Tom; let her
+come here, and bestow some of those loving graces on the last hours of
+my life her looks show she should be rich in. For your sake she will be
+kind to me. Who knows what charm there may be in gentleness, even to
+a tiger-nature like mine? Ask her, at least, if she will make the
+sacrifice.'
+
+"I knew not what to answer. If I could not endure the thought of
+parting from Lucy, yet it seemed equally impossible to refuse his
+entreaty,--old, friendless, and deserted as he was. I felt, besides,
+that my only hope of a real reconciliation with him lay through this
+road; deny him this, and it was clear he would never see me more. He
+said, too, it should only be for a season. I was to see how the place,
+the climate, suited for a residence. In a word, every possible argument
+to reconcile me to the project rushed to my mind, and I at last said,
+'Lucy shall decide, sir. I will set out for home at once, and you shall
+have her own answer.'
+
+"'Uninfluenced, sir,' cried he,--'mind that. If influence were to be
+used, I could perhaps tell her what might decide her at once; but I
+would not that pity should plead for me, till she should have seen if
+I be worth compassion! There is but one argument I will permit in my
+favor,--tell her that her picture has been my pleasantest companion
+these three long days. There it lies, always before me. Go now, and let
+me hear from you as soon as may be.' I arose, but somehow my agitation,
+do what I would, mastered me. It was so long since we had met! All the
+sorrows the long estrangement had cost me came to my mind, together
+with little touches of his kindness in long-past years, and I could not
+speak. 'Poor Tom! poor Tom!' said he, drawing me towards him; and he
+kissed me."
+
+As Lendrick said this, emotion overcame him, and he covered his face
+with his hands, and sobbed bitterly. More than a mile of road was
+traversed before a word passed between them. "There they are, doctor!
+There 's Tom, there's Lucy! They are coming to meet me," cried he.
+"Good-bye, doctor; you 'll forgive me, I know,--goodbye;" and he sprang
+off the car as he spoke, while the vicar, respecting the sacredness of
+the joy, wheeled his horse round, and drove back towards the town.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK
+
+A few minutes after the Adjutant had informed Colonel Cave that
+Lieutenant Traflford had reported himself, Sir Brook entered the
+Colonel's quarters, eager to know what was the reason of the sudden
+recall of Traflford, and whether the regiment had been unexpectedly
+ordered for foreign service.
+
+"No, no," said Cave, in some confusion. "We have had our turn of India
+and the Cape; they can't send us away again for some time. It was purely
+personal; it was, I may say, a private reason. You know," added he, with
+a slight smile, "I am acting as a sort of guardian to Trafford just now.
+His family sent him over to me, as to a reformatory."
+
+"From everything I have seen of him, your office will be an easy one."
+
+"Well, I suspect that, so far as mere wildness goes,--extravagance and
+that sort of thing,--he has had enough of it; but there are mistakes
+that a young fellow may make in life--mistakes in judgment--which will
+damage him more irreparably than all his derelictions against morality."
+
+"That I deny,--totally, entirely deny. I know what you mean,--that is,
+I think I know what you mean; and if I guess aright, I am distinctly at
+issue with you on this matter."
+
+"Perhaps I could convince you, notwithstanding. Here's a letter which
+I have no right to show you; it is marked 'Strictly confidential and
+private.' You shall read it,--nay, you must read it,--because you
+are exactly the man to be able to give advice on the matter. You like
+Traflford, and wish him well. Read that over carefully, and tell me what
+you would counsel."
+
+Fossbrooke took out his spectacles, and, having seated himself
+comfortably, with his back to the light, began in leisurely fashion to
+peruse the letter. "It's his mother who writes," said he, turning to
+the signature,--"one of the most worldly women I ever met. She was a
+Lascelles. Don't you know how she married Trafford?"
+
+"I don't remember, if I ever heard."
+
+"It was her sister that Trafford wanted to marry, but she was ambitious
+to be a peeress; and as Bradbrook was in love with her, she told Sir
+Hugh, 'I have got a sister so like me nobody can distinguish between us.
+She 'd make an excellent wife for you. She rides far better than me, and
+she is n't half so extravagant. I 'll send for her.' She did so, and the
+whole thing was settled in a week."
+
+"They have lived very happily together."
+
+"Of course they have. They didn't 'go in,' as the speculators say, for
+enormous profits; they realized very fairly, and were satisfied. I wish
+her handwriting had been more cared for. What's this she says here about
+a subscription?"
+
+"That 's supervision,--the supervision of a parent."
+
+"Supervision of a fiddlestick! the fellow is six feet one inch high,
+and seven-and-twenty years of age; he's quite beyond supervision. Ah!
+brought back all his father's gout, has he? When will people begin to
+admit that their own tempers have something to say to their maladies?
+I curse the cook who made the mulligatawny, but I forget that I ate two
+platefuls of it. So it's the doctor's daughter she objects to. I wish
+she saw her. I wish _you_ saw her, Cave. You are an old frequenter of
+courts and drawing-rooms. I tell you you have seen nothing like this
+doctor's daughter since Laura Bedingfield was presented, and that was
+before your day."
+
+"Every one has heard of the Beauty Bedingfield; but she was my mother's
+contemporary."
+
+"Well, sir, her successors have not eclipsed her! This doctor's
+daughter, as your correspondent calls her, is the only rival of her that
+I have ever seen. As to wit and accomplishments, Laura could not compete
+with Lucy Lendrick."
+
+"You know her, then?" asked the Colonel; and then added, "Tell me
+something about the family."
+
+"With your leave, I will finish this letter first. Ah! here we have the
+whole secret. Lionel Trafford is likely to be that precious prize, an
+eldest son. Who could have thought that the law of entail could sway a
+mother's affections? 'Contract no ties inconsistent with his station.'
+This begins to be intolerable, Cave. I don't think I can go on."
+
+"Yes, yes; read it through."
+
+"She asks you if you know any one who knows these Hendrichs or
+Lendrichs; tell her that you do; tell her that your friend is one of
+those men who have seen a good deal of life, heard more, too, than
+he has seen. She will understand that, and that his name is Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, who, if needed, will think nothing of a journey over to
+Lincolnshire to afford her all the information she could wish for.
+Say this, Cave, and take my word for it, she will put very few more
+questions to you."
+
+"That would be to avow I had already consulted with you. No, no; I must
+not do that."
+
+"The wind-up of the epistle is charming. 'I have certainly no reason to
+love Ireland.' Poor Ireland! here is another infliction upon you. Let us
+hope you may never come to know that Lady Trafford cannot love you."
+
+"Come, come, Fossbrooke, be just, be fair; there is nothing so very
+unreasonable in the anxiety of a mother that her son, who will have a
+good name and a large estate, should not share them both with a person
+beneath him."
+
+"Why must she assume that this is the case,--why take it for granted
+that this girl must be beneath him? I tell you, sir, if a prince of the
+blood had fallen in love with her, it would be a reason to repeal the
+Royal Marriage Act."
+
+"I declare, Fossbrooke, I shall begin to suspect that your own heart has
+not escaped scathless," said Cave, laughing.
+
+The old man's face became crimson, but not with anger. As suddenly it
+grew pale; and in a voice of deep agitation he said, "When an old man
+like myself lays his homage at her feet, it is not hard to believe how a
+young man might love her."
+
+"How did you come to make this acquaintance?" said Cave, anxious to turn
+the conversation into a more familiar channel.
+
+"We chanced to fail in with her brother on the river. We found him
+struggling with a fish far too large for his tackle, and which at last
+smashed his rod and got away. He showed not alone that he was a perfect
+angler, but that he was a fine-tempered fellow, who accepted his defeat
+manfully and well; he had even a good word for his enemy, sir, and
+it was that which attracted me. Trafford and he, young-men-like, soon
+understood each other; he came into our boat, lunched with us, and asked
+us home with him to tea. There 's the whole story. As to the intimacy
+that followed, it was mostly my own doing. I own to you I never so much
+as suspected that Trafford was smitten by her; he was always with her
+brother, scarcely at all in her company; and when he came to tell me he
+was in love, I asked him how he caught the malady, for I never saw him
+near the infection. Once that I knew of the matter, however, I made him
+write home to his family."
+
+"It was by your advice, then, that he wrote that letter?"
+
+"Certainly; I not only advised, I insisted on it,--I read it, too,
+before it was sent off. It was such a letter as, if I had been the young
+fellow's father, would have made me prouder than to hear he had got the
+thanks of Parliament."
+
+"You and I, Fossbrooke, are old bachelors; we are scarcely able to say
+what we should have done if we had had sons."
+
+"I am inclined to believe it would have made us better, not worse," said
+Fossbrooke, gravely.
+
+"At all events, as it was at your instigation this letter was written,
+I can't well suggest your name as an impartial person in the
+transaction,--I mean, as one who can be referred to for advice or
+information."
+
+"Don't do so, sir, or I shall be tempted to say more than may be
+prudent. Have you never noticed, Cave, the effect that a doctor's
+presence produces in the society of those who usually consult him,--the
+reserve,--the awkwardness,--the constraint,--the apologetic tone for
+this or that little indiscretion,--the sitting in the draught or the
+extra glass of sherry? So is it, but in a far stronger degree, when an
+old man of the world like myself comes back amongst those he formerly
+lived with,--one who knew all their past history, how they succeeded
+here, how they failed there,--what led the great man of fashion to
+finish his days in a colony, and why the Court beauty married a bishop.
+Ah, sir, we are the physicians who have all these secrets in our
+keeping. It is ours to know what sorrow is covered by that smile, how
+that merry laugh has but smothered the sigh of a heavy heart. It is only
+when a man has lived to my age, with an unfailing memory too, that he
+knows the real hollowness of life,--all the combinations falsified, all
+the hopes blighted,--the clever fellows that have turned out failures,
+or worse than failures,--the lovely women that have made shipwreck
+through their beauty. It is not only, however, that he knows this, but
+he knows how craft and cunning have won where ability and frankness
+have lost,--how intrigue and trick have done better than genius and
+integrity. With all this knowledge, sir, in their heads, and stout
+hearts within them, such men as myself have their utility in life. They
+are a sort of walking conscience that cannot be ignored. The railroad
+millionnaire talks less boastfully before him who knew him as an
+errand-boy; the _grande dame_ is less superciliously insolent in the
+presence of one who remembered her in a very different character. Take
+my word for it, Cave, Nestor may have been a bit of a bore amongst the
+young Greeks of fashion, but he had his utility too."
+
+"But how am I to answer this letter? What advice shall I give her?"
+
+"Tell her frankly that you have made the inquiry she wished; that the
+young lady, who is as well born as her son, is without fortune, and if
+her personal qualities count for nothing, would be what the world would
+call a 'bad match.'"
+
+"Yes, that sounds practicable. I think that will do."
+
+"Tell her, also, that if she seriously desires that her son should
+continue in the way of that reformation he has so ardently followed for
+some time back, and especially so since he has made the acquaintance of
+this family, such a marriage as this would give her better reasons
+for confidence than all her most crafty devices in match-making and
+settlements."
+
+"I don't think I can exactly tell her that," said Caver smiling.
+
+"Tell her, then, that if this connection be not to her liking, to
+withdraw her son at once from this neighborhood before this girl should
+come to care for him; for if she should, by heavens! he shall marry her,
+if every acre of the estate were to go to a cousin ten times removed!"
+
+"Were not these people all strangers to you t' other day, Fossbrooke?"
+said Cave, in something like a tone of reprehension.
+
+"So they were. I had never so much as heard of them; but she, this girl,
+has a claim upon my interest, founded on a resemblance so strong that
+when I see her, I live back again in the long past, and find myself in
+converse with the dearest friends I ever had. I vow to Heaven I never
+knew the bitterness of want of fortune till now! I never felt how
+powerless and insignificant poverty can make a man till I desired to
+contribute to this girl's happiness; and if I were not an old worthless
+wreck,--shattered and unseaworthy,--I 'd set to work to-morrow to refit
+and try to make a fortune to bestow on her."
+
+If Cave was half disposed to banter the old man on what seemed little
+short of a devoted attachment, the agitation of Fossbrooke's manner--his
+trembling lip, his shaking voice, his changing color--all warned him
+to forbear, and abstain from what might well have proved a perilous
+freedom.
+
+"You will dine with us at mess, Fossbrooke, won't you?"
+
+"No; I shall return at once to Killaloe. I made Dr. Lendrick's
+acquaintance just as I started by the train. I want to see more of
+him. Besides, now that I know what was the emergency that called young
+Trafford up here, I have nothing to detain me."
+
+"Shall you see him before you go?"
+
+"Of course. I am going over to his quarters now."
+
+"You will not mention our conversation?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"I 'd like to show you my letter before I send it off. I 'd be glad to
+think it was what you recommended."
+
+"Write what you feel to be a fair statement of the case, and if by any
+chance an inclination to partiality crosses you, let it be in favor of
+the young. Take my word for it, Cave, there is a selfishness in age that
+needs no ally. Stand by the sons; the fathers and mothers will take care
+of themselves. Good-bye."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. A GREAT MAN'S SCHOOLFELLOW
+
+Whether it was that the Chief Baron had thrown off an attack which had
+long menaced him, and whose slow approaches had gradually impaired his
+strength and diminished his mental activity, or whether, as some of his
+"friends" suggested, that the old man's tenure of life had been renewed
+by the impertinences of the newspapers and the insolent attacks of
+political foes,--an explanation not by any means far-fetched,--whatever
+the cause, he came out of his illness with all the signs of renewed
+vigor, and with a degree of mental acuteness that he had not enjoyed for
+many years before.
+
+"Beattie tells me that this attack has inserted another life in my
+lease," said he; "and I am glad of it. It is right that the men who
+speculated on my death should be reminded of the uncertainty of life by
+the negative proof. It is well, too, that there should be men long-lived
+enough to bridge over periods of mediocrity, and connect the triumphs
+of the past with the coming glories of the future. We are surely not
+destined to a perpetuity of Pendletons and Fitzgibbons?"
+
+It was thus he discoursed to an old legal comrade,--who, less gifted
+and less fortunate, still wore his stuff gown, and pleaded for the
+outer bar,--poor old Billy Haire, the dreariest advocate, and one of the
+honestest fellows that ever carried his bag into court. While nearly all
+of his contemporaries had risen to rank and eminence, Billy toiled on
+through life with small success, liked by his friends, respected by
+the world, but the terror of attorneys, who only saw in him the type of
+adverse decisions and unfavorable verdicts.
+
+For forty-odd years had he lived a life that any but himself would have
+deemed martyrdom,--his law laughed at, his eloquence ridiculed, his
+manner mimicked, jeered at by the bench, quizzed by the bar, sneered at
+by the newspapers, every absurd story tagged to his name, every stupid
+blunder fathered on him, till at last, as it were, by the mere force
+of years, the world came to recognize the incomparable temper that no
+provocation had ever been able to irritate, the grand nature that rose
+above all resentment, and would think better of its fellows than these
+moods of spiteful wit or impertinent drollery might seem to entitle them
+to.
+
+The old Judge liked him; he liked his manly simplicity of character, his
+truthfulness, and his honesty; but perhaps more than all these, did he
+like his dulness. It was so pleasant to him to pelt this poor heavy man
+with smart epigrams and pungent sarcasms on all that was doing in the
+world, and see the hopeless effort he made to follow him.
+
+Billy, too, had another use; he alone, of all the Chief Baron's friends,
+could tell him what was the current gossip of the hall,--what men
+thought, or at least what they said of him. The genuine simplicity of
+Haire's nature gave to his revelations a character so devoid of all
+spitefulness,--it was so evident that, in repeating, he never identified
+himself with his story that Lendrick would listen to words from him
+that, coming from another, his resentment would have repelled with
+indignation.
+
+"And you tell me that the story now is, my whole attack was nothing but
+temper?" said the old Judge, as the two men walked slowly up and down on
+the grass lawn before the door.
+
+"Not that exactly; but they say that constitutional irritability had
+much to say to it."
+
+"It was, in fact, such a seizure as, with a man like yourself, would
+have been a mere nothing."
+
+"Perhaps so."
+
+"I am sure of it, sir; and what more do they say?"
+
+"All sorts of things, which, of course, they know nothing about. Some
+have it that you refused the peerage, others that it was not offered."
+
+"Ha!" said the old man, irritably, while a faint flush tinged his cheek.
+
+"They say, too," continued Haire, "that when the Viceroy informed you
+that you were not to be made a peer, you said: 'Let the Crown look to
+it, then. The Revenue cases all come to my court; and so long as I sit
+there, they shall never have a verdict.'"
+
+"You must have invented that yourself, Billy," said the Judge, with a
+droll malice in his eye. "Come, confess it is your own. It is _so_ like
+you."
+
+"No, on my honor," said the other, solemnly.
+
+"Not that I would take it ill, Haire, if you had. When a man has a turn
+for epigram, his friends must extend their indulgence to the humor."
+
+"I assure you, positively, it is not mine."
+
+"That is quite enough; let us talk of something else. By the way, I have
+a letter to show you. I put it in my pocket this morning, to let you
+see it; but, first of all, I must show you the writer,--here she is."
+He drew forth a small miniature case, and, opening it, handed it to the
+other.
+
+"What a handsome girl! downright beautiful!"
+
+"My granddaughter, sir," said the old man, proudly.
+
+"I declare, I never saw a lovelier face," said Haire. "She must be
+a rare cheat if she be not as good as she is beautiful. What a sweet
+mouth!"
+
+"The brow is fine; there is a high intelligence about the eyes and the
+temples."
+
+"It is the smile, that little lurking smile, that captivates me. What
+may her age be?"
+
+"Something close on twenty. Now for her letter. Read that."
+
+While Haire perused the letter, the old Judge sauntered away, looking
+from time to time at the miniature, and muttering some low inaudible
+words as he went.
+
+"I don't think I understand it. I am at a loss to catch what she is
+drifting at," said Haire, as he finished the first side of the letter.
+"What is she so grateful for?"
+
+"You think the case is one which calls for little gratitude, then. What
+a sarcastic mood you are in this morning, Haire!" said the Judge, with
+a malicious twinkle of the eye. "Still, there are young ladies in the
+world who would vouchsafe to bear me company in requital for being
+placed at the head of such a house as this."
+
+"I can make nothing of it," said the other, hopelessly.
+
+"The case is this," said the Judge, as he drew his arm within the
+other's. "Tom Lendrick has beeu offered a post of some value--some value
+to a man poor as he is--at the Cape. I have told him that his acceptance
+in no way involves me. I have told those who have offered the place that
+I stand aloof in the whole negotiation,--that in their advancement of
+my son they establish no claim upon _me_, I have even said I will know
+nothing whatever of the incident." He paused for some minutes, and then
+went on: "I have told Tom, however, if his circumstances were such as
+to dispose him to avail himself of this offer, that--until he assured
+himself that the place was one to his liking, that it gave a reasonable
+prospect of permanence, that the climate was salubrious, and the society
+not distasteful--I would take his daughter to live with me."
+
+"He has a son, too, has n't he?"
+
+"He has, sir, and he fain would have induced me to take _him_ instead of
+the girl; but this I would not listen to. I have not nerves for the loud
+speech and boisterous vitality of a young fellow of four or five and
+twenty. His very vigor would be a standing insult to me, and the fellow
+would know it. When men come to my age, they want a mild atmosphere in
+morals and manners, as well as in climate. My son's physiology has not
+taught him this, doctor though he be."
+
+"I see,--I see it all now," said Haire; "and the girl, though sorry to
+be separated from her father, is gratified by the thought of becoming a
+tie between him and you."
+
+"That is not in the record, sir," said the Judge, sternly. "Keep to your
+brief." He took the letter sharply from the other's hand as he spoke.
+"My granddaughter has not had much experience of life; but her woman's
+tact has told her that her real difficulty--her only one, perhaps--will
+be with Lady Lendrick. She cannot know that Lady Lendrick's authority
+in this house is nothing,--less than nothing. I would never have invited
+her to come here, had it been otherwise."
+
+"Have you apprised Lady Lendrick of this arrangement?"
+
+"No, sir; nor shall I. it shall be for you to do that 'officiously,' as
+the French say, to distinguish from what is called 'officially.' I mean
+you to call upon her and say, in the course of conversation, informally,
+accidentally, that Miss Lendrick's arrival at the Priory has been
+deferred, or that it is fixed for such a date,--in fact, sir, whatever
+your own nice tact may deem the neatest mode of alluding to the topic,
+leaving to her the reply. You understand me?"
+
+"I 'm not so sure that I do."
+
+"So much the better; your simplicity will be more inscrutable than your
+subtlety, Haire. I can deal with the one--the other masters me."
+
+"I declare frankly I don't like the mission. I was never, so to say, a
+favorite with her Ladyship."
+
+"Neither was I, sir," said the other, with a peremptory loudness that
+was almost startling.
+
+"Hadn't you better intimate it by a few lines in a note? Had n't you
+better say that, having seen your son during his late visit to town, and
+learnt his intention to accept a colonial appointment--"
+
+"All this would be apologetic, sir, and must not be thought of. Don't
+you know, Haire, that every unnecessary affidavit is a flaw in a man's
+case? Go and see her; your very awkwardness will imply a secret, and she
+'ll be so well pleased with her acuteness in discovering the mystery,
+she 'll half forget its offence."
+
+"Let me clearly understand what I' ve got to do. I 'm to tell her or to
+let her find out that you have been reconciled to your son Tom?"
+
+"There is not a word of reconciliation, sir, in all your instructions.
+You are to limit yourself to the statement that touches my
+granddaughter."
+
+"Very well; it will be so much the easier. I'm to say, then, that you
+have adopted her, and placed her at the head of your house; that she is
+to live here in all respects as its mistress?"
+
+He paused; and as the Judge bowed a concurrence, he went on: "Of course
+you will allow me to add that I was never consulted; that you did not
+ask my opinion, and that I never gave one?"
+
+"You are at liberty to, say all this."
+
+"I would even say that I don't exactly see how the thing will work. A
+very young girl, with of course a limited experience of life, will
+have no common difficulties in dealing with a world so new and strange,
+particularly without the companionship of one of her own sex."
+
+"I cannot promise to supply that want, but she shall see as much of
+_you_ as possible." And the words were uttered with a blended courtesy
+and malice, of which he was perfect master. Poor Haire, however, only
+saw the complimentary part, and hurriedly pledged himself to be at Miss
+Lendrick's orders at all times.
+
+"Come and let me show you how I mean to lodge her. I intend her to feel
+a perfect independence of me and my humors. We are to see each other
+from inclination, not constraint: I intend, sir that we should live on
+good terms; and as the Church will have nothing to say to the compact,
+it is possible it may succeed.
+
+"These rooms are to be hers," said he, opening a door which offered a
+_vista_ through several handsomely furnished rooms, all looking out upon
+a neatly kept flower-garden. "Lady Lendrick, I believe, had long since
+destined them for a son and daughter-in-law of hers, who are on their
+way home from India. The plan will be now all the more difficult of
+accomplishment."
+
+"Which will not make my communication to her the pleasanter."
+
+"But redound so much the more to the credit of your adroitness, Haire,
+if you succeed. Come over here this evening and report progress." And
+with this he nodded an easy good-bye, and strolled down the garden.
+
+"I don't envy Haire his brief in this case," muttered he. "He'll not
+have the 'court with him,' that's certain;" and he laughed spitefully to
+himself as he went.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. LAST DAYS
+
+It may seem a hardship, but not improbably it is in its way an
+alleviation, that we are never involved in any of the great trials
+in life without having to deal with certain material embarrassments,
+questions of vulgar interest which concern our pockets and affect our
+finances.
+
+Poor Lendrick's was a case in point. He was about to leave his
+country,--to tear himself from a home he had embellished,--to separate
+from his children that he loved so dearly, to face a new life in a new
+land, friendless and alone; and with all these cares on his heart, he
+had creditors to satisfy, debts to insure payment of by security, and,
+not least of his troubles, his house to relet. Now, the value the world
+sets on that which is not for sale is very unlike its estimate for the
+same commodity when brought to market. The light claret your friend
+pronounced a very pleasant little wine at your own table, he would
+discover, when offered for purchase, to be poor, washy, and acrid. The
+horse you had left him, and whose performance he had encomiumized,
+if put up to auction, would be found spavined, or windgalled, or
+broken-down. Such a stern test is money, so fearfully does its coarse
+jingle jar upon all the music of flattery, and make discord of all
+compliment. To such a pitch is the process carried, that even pretty
+women, who as wives were objects of admiration to despairing and
+disappointed adorers, have become, by widowhood, very ordinary
+creatures, simply because they are once more "in the market."
+
+It is well for us that heaven itself was not in the "Price Current,"
+or we might have begun to think lightly of it. At all events we 'd have
+higgled about the cost, and tried to get there as cheaply as might be.
+
+From the day that the Swan's Nest appeared in the Dublin papers "to be
+let furnished, for the three years of an unexpired term," Lendrick was
+besieged by letters and applications. All the world apparently wanted
+the place, but wanted it in some way or other quite out of his power
+to accord. One insisted on having it unfurnished, and for a much longer
+period than he could give. Another desired more land, and the right of
+shooting over several hundred additional acres. A third would like the
+house and garden, but would not burden himself with the lawn, and could
+not see why Lendrick might not continue to hold the meadow-land, and
+come back from the Cape or anywhere else to mow the grass and rick it in
+due season.
+
+A schoolmistress proposed he should build a dormitory for thirty young
+ladies, and make the flower-garden into a playground; and a miller from
+Limerick inquired whether he was willing to join in a suit to establish
+a right of water-power by diverting a stream from the Shannon through
+the dining-room to turn an undershot wheel.
+
+It was marvellous with what patience and courtesy Lendrick replied to
+these and such-like, politely assuring the writers how he regretted
+his inability to meet their wishes, and modestly confessing that he had
+neither the money nor the time to make his house other than it was.
+
+All these, however, were as nothing to his trials when the day arrived
+when the house and grounds, in the language of the advertisement, were
+"on view," and the world of the curious and idle were free to invade the
+place, stroll at will through rooms and gardens, comment and criticise
+not merely the objects before them, but the taste and the fortunes, the
+habits and the lives of those who had made this their home, and these
+things part of their own natures.
+
+In a half-jesting humor, but really to save Lendrick from a
+mortification which, to a nature timid and sensitive as his, would
+have been torture, Sir Brook and Tom agreed to divide the labors of
+ciceroneship between them; the former devoting his attentions to
+the house and furniture, while Tom assumed the charge of grounds and
+gardens. To complete the arrangement, Lendrick and Lucy were banished to
+a small summer-house, and strictly enjoined never to venture abroad so
+long as the stranger horde overran the territory.
+
+"I declare, my dear, I almost think the remedy worse than the disease,"
+said Lendrick to his daughter, as he paced with short feverish steps the
+narrow limits of his prison-house. "This isolation here has something
+secret, something that suggests shame about it. I think I could almost
+rather face all the remarks our visitors might make than sit down here
+to fancy and brood over them."
+
+"I suspect not, dearest papa; I believe the plan will spare us much that
+might pain us."
+
+"After all, child, these people have a right to be critical, and they
+are not bound to know by what associations you and I are tied to that
+old garden-seat or that bookstand, and we ought to be able to avoid
+showing them this."
+
+"Perhaps we ought, papa; but could we do so? that's-the question."
+
+"Surely the tradesman affects no such squeamishness about what he offers
+for sale."
+
+"True, papa; because none of his wares have caught any clew to his
+identity. They have never been his in the sense which makes possession
+pleasure."
+
+"I wish they would not laugh without there; their coarse laughter sounds
+to me so like vulgar ridicule. I hardly thought all this would have made
+me so irritable; even the children's voices jar on my nerves."
+
+He turned away his head, but her eyes followed him, and two heavy tears
+stole slowly along her cheek, and her lip quivered as she looked.
+
+"There, they are going away," said he, listening; "I am better now."
+
+"That 's right, dearest papa; I knew it was a mere passing pang," said
+she, drawing her arm within his, and walking along at his side. "How
+kind Sir Brook is!"
+
+"How kind every one, we might say. Poor Mills is like a brother, and
+Tobin too,--I scarcely expected so much heart from him. He gave me
+his old lancet-case as a keepsake yesterday, and I declare his voice
+trembled as he said good-bye."
+
+"As for the poor people, I hear, papa, that one would think they had
+lost their nearest and dearest. Molly Dew says they were crying in her
+house this morning over their breakfast as if it was a funeral."
+
+"Is it not strange, Lucy, that what touches the heart so painfully
+should help to heal the pang it gives? There is that in all this
+affection for us that gladdens while it grieves. All,--all are so kind
+to us! That young fellow--Trafford I think his name is--he was waiting
+at the post for his letters this morning when I came up, and it seems
+that Foss-brooke had told him of my appointment,--indiscreet of him, for
+I would not wish it talked of; but Trafford turned to him and said, 'Ask
+Dr. Lendrick, is he decided about going;' and when he heard that I was,
+he scarcely said goodbye, but jumped into a cab, and drove off full
+speed.
+
+"'What does that mean?' asked I.
+
+"'He was so fond of Tom,' said Fossbrooke, 'they were never separate
+this last month or five weeks;' so you see, darling, each of us has his
+sphere of love and affection."
+
+Lucy was crimson over face and neck, but never spoke a word. Had she
+spoken it would have been, perhaps, to corroborate Sir Brook, and to say
+how fond the young men were of each other. I do not affirm this, I only
+hint that it is likely. Where there are blanks in this narrative, the
+reader has as much right to fill them as myself.
+
+"Sir Brook," continued Lendrick, "thinks well of the young man; but for
+my own part I hardly like to see Tom in close companionship with one so
+much his superior in fortune. He is easily led, and has not yet learned
+that stern lesson in life, how to confess that there are many things he
+has no pretension to aspire to."
+
+"Tom loves you too sincerely, papa, ever to do that which would
+seriously grieve you."
+
+"He would not deliberately,--he would not in cold blood, Lucy; but young
+men, when together, have not many moods of deliberation or cold blood.
+But let us not speculate on trouble that may never come. It is enough
+for the present that he and Trafford are separated, if Trafford was even
+likely to lead him into ways of extravagance."
+
+"What 's that! Is n't it, Tom? He's laughing heartily at something. Yes;
+here he comes."
+
+"You may come out; the last of them has just driven off," cried Tom,
+knocking at the door, while he continued to laugh on immoderately.
+
+"What is it, Tom? What are you laughing at?"
+
+"You should have seen it; it's nothing to tell, but it was wonderful to
+witness. I'll never forget it as long as I live."
+
+"But what was it?" asked she, impatiently.
+
+"I thought we had fully done with all our visitors,--and a rum set they
+were, most of them, not thinking of taking the place, but come out of
+mere curiosity,--when who should drive up with two postilions and
+four spicy grays but Lady Drumcarran and a large party, three horsemen
+following? I just caught the word 'Excellency,' and found out from
+one of the servants that a tall old man with white hair and very heavy
+eyebrows was the Lord-Lieutenant. He stooped a good deal, and walked
+tenderly; and as the Countess was most eager about the grounds and the
+gardens, they parted company very soon, he going into the house to sit
+down, while she prosecuted her inquiries without doors.
+
+"I took him into the library; we had a long chat about fishing, and
+fish-curing, and the London markets, and flax, and national education,
+and land-tenure, and such-like. Of course I affected not to know who he
+was, and I took the opportunity to say scores of impertinences about
+the stupidity of the Castle, and the sort of men they send over here
+to govern us; and he asked me if I was destined for any career or
+profession, and I told him frankly that whenever I took up anything I
+always was sure to discover it was the one very thing that didn't suit
+me; and as I made this unlucky discovery in law, medicine, and the
+Church, I had given up my college career, and was now in a sort of
+interregnal period, wondering what it was to be next. I did n't like to
+own that the _res angusto_ had anything to say to it. It was no business
+of his to know about that.
+
+"'You surely have friends able and willing to suggest something that
+would fit you,' said he. 'Is not the Chief Baron your grandfather?'
+
+"'Yes, and he might make me crier of his court; but I think he has
+promised the reversion to his butler. The fact is, I 'd not do over
+well with any fixed responsibilities attached to me. I 'd rather be a
+guerilla than serve in the regulars, and so I 'll just wait and see if
+something won't turn up in that undisciplined force I 'd like to serve
+with.'
+
+"'I 'll give you my name,' said he, 'before we part, and possibly I may
+know some one who might be of use to you.'
+
+"I thanked him coolly, and we talked of something else, when there came
+a short plump little fellow, all beard and gold chains, to say that Lady
+Drumcarran was waiting for him. 'Tell her I'm coming,' said he; 'and,
+Balfour,' he cried out, 'before you go away, give this gentleman my
+address, and if he should call, take care that I see him.'
+
+"Balfour eyed me, and I eyed him, with, I take it, pretty much the same
+result, which said plainly enough, 'You 're not the man for me.'
+
+"'What in heaven's name is this?' cried the Viceroy, as he got outside
+and saw Lady Drumcarran at the head of a procession carrying plants,
+slips, and flower-pots down to the carriage.
+
+"'Her Ladyship has made a raid amongst the greeneries,' said Balfour,
+'and tipped the head-gardener, that tall fellow there with the yellow
+rose-tree; as the place is going to be sold, she thought she might well
+do a little genteel pillage.' Curious to see who our gardener could be,
+all the more that he was said to be 'tall,' I went forward, and what
+do you think I saw? Sir Brook, with a flower-pot under one arm, and
+a quantity of cuttings under the other, walking a little after the
+Countess, who was evidently giving him ample directions as to her
+intentions. I could scarcely refrain from an outburst of laughing, but I
+got away into the shrubbery and watched the whole proceedings. I was
+too far off to hear, but this much I saw. Sir Brook had deposited his
+rose-tree and his slips on the rumble, and stood beside the carriage
+with his hat off. When his Excellency came up, a sudden movement took
+place in the group, and the Viceroy, seeming to push his way through
+the others, cried out something I could not catch, and then grasped Sir
+Brook's hand with both his own. All was tumult in a moment. My Lady, in
+evident confusion and shame,--that much I could see,--was courtesying
+deeply to Sir Brook, who seemed not to understand her apologies--,
+at least, he appeared stately and courteous, as usual, and not in the
+slightest degree put out or chagrined by the incident. Though Lady
+Drumcarran was profuse of her excuses, and most eager to make amends
+for her mistake, the Viceroy took Sir Brook's arm and led him off to a
+little distance, where they talked together for a few moments.
+
+"'It's a promise, then, Fossbrooke,--you promise me!' cried he aloud, as
+he approached the carriage.
+
+"'Rely upon me,--and within a week, or ten days at farthest,' said Sir
+Brook, as they drove away.
+
+"I have not seen him since, and I scarcely know if I shall be able to
+meet him without laughing."
+
+"Here he comes," cried Lucy; "and take care, Tom, that you do nothing
+that might offend him."
+
+The caution was so far unnecessary that Sir Brook's manner, as he drew
+near, had a certain stately dignity that invited no raillery.
+
+"You have been detained a long time a prisoner, Dr. Len-drick," said
+Fossbrooke, calmly; "but your visitors were so charmed with all they saw
+that they lingered on, unwilling to take their leave."
+
+"Tom tells me we had some of our county notabilities,--Lord and Lady
+Drumcarran, the Lacys, and others," said Lendrick.
+
+"Yes; and the Lord-Lieutenant, too, whom I used to know at Christ
+Church. He would have been well pleased to have met you. He told me your
+father was the ablest and most brilliant talker he ever knew."
+
+"Ah! we are very unlike," said Lendrick, blushing modestly. "Did he
+give any hint as to whether his party are pleased or the reverse with my
+father's late conduct?"
+
+"He only said, 'I wish you knew him, Fossbrooke; I sincerely wish you
+knew him, if only to assure him that he will meet far more generous
+treatment from us than from the Opposition.' He added that we were men
+to suit each other; and this, of course, was a flattery for which I am
+very grateful."
+
+"And the tall man with the stoop was the Lord-Lieutenant?" asked Tom. "I
+passed half an hour or more with him in the library, and he invited me
+to call upon him, and told a young fellow, named Balfour, to give me his
+address, which he forgot to do."
+
+"We can go together, if you have no objection; for I, too, have promised
+to pay my respects," said Sir Brook.
+
+Tom was delighted at the suggestion, but whispered in his sister's ear,
+as they passed out into the garden, "I thought I 'd have burst my sides
+laughing when I met him; but it's the very last thing in my thoughts
+now. I declare I 'd as soon pull a tiger's whiskers as venture on the
+smallest liberty with him."
+
+"I think you are right, Tom," said she, squeezing his arm
+affectionately, to show that she not alone agreed with him, but was
+pleased that he had given her the opportunity of doing so.
+
+"I wonder is he telling the governor what happened this morning? It can
+scarcely be that, though, they look so grave."
+
+"Papa seems agitated too," said Lucy.
+
+"I just caught Trafford's name as they passed. I hope he 's not saying
+anything against him. It is not only that Lionel Trafford is as good a
+fellow as ever lived, but that he fully believes Fossbrooke likes him. I
+don't think he could be so false; do you, Lucy?"
+
+"I 'm certain he is not. There, papa is beckoning to you; he wants you;"
+and Lucy turned hurriedly away, anxious to conceal her emotion, for her
+cheeks were burning, and her lips trembled with agitation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER
+
+It was decided on that evening that Sir Brook and Tom should set out for
+Dublin the next morning. Lucy knew not why this sudden determination had
+been come to, and Tom, who never yet had kept a secret from her, was now
+reserved and uncommunicative. Nor was it merely that he held aloof his
+confidence, but he was short and snappish in his manner, as though she
+had someway vexed him, and vexed him in some shape that he could not
+openly speak of or resent.
+
+This was very new to her from him, and yet how was it? She had not
+courage to ask for an explanation. Tom was not exactly one of those
+people of whom it was pleasant to ask explanations., Where the matter to
+be explained might be one of delicacy, he had a way of abruptly blurting
+out the very thing one would have desired might be kept back. Just as an
+awkward surgeon will tear off the dressing, and set a wound a-bleeding,
+would he rudely destroy the work of time in healing by a moment of rash
+impatience. It was knowing this--knowing it well--that deterred Lucy
+from asking what might lead to something not over-agreeable to hear.
+
+"Shall I pack your portmanteau, Tom?" asked she. It was a task that
+always fell to her lot.
+
+"No; Nicholas can do it,--any one can do it," said he, as he mumbled
+with an unlit cigar between his teeth.
+
+"You used to say I always did it best, Tom,--that I never forgot
+anything," said she, caressingly.
+
+"Perhaps I did,--perhaps I thought so. Look here, Lucy," said he, as
+though by an immense effort he had got strength to say what he wanted,
+"I am half vexed with you, if not more than half."
+
+"Vexed with me, Tom,--vexed with _me!_ and for what?"
+
+"I don't think that you need ask. I am inclined to believe that you know
+perfectly well what I mean, and what I would much rather not say, if you
+will only let me."
+
+"I do not," said she, slowly and deliberately.
+
+"Do you mean to say, Lucy," said he, and his manner was almost stern as
+he spoke, "that you have no secrets from me, that you are as frank and
+outspoken with me today as you were three months ago?"
+
+"I do say so."
+
+"Then what's the meaning of this letter?" cried he, as, carried away
+by a burst of passion, he overstepped all the prudential reserve he had
+sworn to himself to regard. "What does this mean?"
+
+"I know nothing of that letter, nor what it contains," said she,
+blushing till her very brow became crimson.
+
+"I don't suppose you do, for though it is addressed to you, the seal is
+unbroken; but you know whose handwriting it's in, and you know that you
+have had others from the same quarter."
+
+"I believe the writing is Mr. Trafford's," said she, as a deathlike
+paleness spread over her face, "because he himself once asked me to read
+a letter from him in the same handwriting."
+
+"Which you did?"
+
+"No; I refused. I handed the letter back to him unopened, and said that,
+as I certainly should not write to him without my father's knowledge and
+permission, I would not read a letter from him without the same."
+
+"And what was the epistle, then, that the vicar's housekeeper handed him
+from you?"
+
+"That same letter I have spoken of. He left it on my table, insisting
+and believing that on second thoughts I would read it. He thought so
+because it was not to me, though addressed to me, but the copy of a
+letter he had written to his mother, about me certainly." Here she
+blushed deeply again. "As I continued, however, of the same mind,
+determined not to see what the letter contained, I re-enclosed it and
+gave it to Mrs. Brennan to hand to him."
+
+"And all this you kept a secret from me?"
+
+"It was not my secret. It was his. It was his till such time as he could
+speak of it to my father, and this he told me had not yet come."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I never asked him that. I do not think, Tom," said she, with much
+emotion, "it was such a question as you would have had me ask."
+
+"Do you love--Come, darling Lucy, don't be angry with me. I never meant
+to wound your feelings. Don't sob that way, my dear, dear Lucy. You know
+what a rough coarse fellow I am; but I'd rather die than offend you.
+Why did you not tell me of all this? I never liked any one so well as
+Trafford, and why leave me to the chance of misconstruing him? Would n't
+it have been the best way to have trusted me as you always have?"
+
+"I don't see what there was to have confided to you. Mr. Trafford might,
+if he wished. I mean, that if there was a secret at all. I don't know
+what I mean," cried she, covering her face with her handkerchief, while
+a convulsive motion of her shoulders showed how she was moved.
+
+"I am as glad as if I had got a thousand pounds, to know you have been
+so right, so thoroughly right, in all this, Lucy; and I am glad, too,
+that Trafford has done nothing to make me think less well of him. Let's
+be friends; give me your hand, like a dear, good girl, and forgive me if
+I have said what pained you."
+
+"I am not angry, Tom," said she, giving her hand, but with her head
+still averted.
+
+"God knows it's not the time for us to fall out," said he, with a
+shaking voice. "Going to separate as we are, and when to be together
+again not so easy to imagine."
+
+"You are surely going out with papa?" asked she, eagerly.
+
+"No; they say not."
+
+"Who says not?"
+
+"The governor himself--Sir Brook--old Mills--everybody, in fact. They
+have held a committee of the whole house on it. I think Nicholas was
+present too; and it has been decided that as I am very much given to
+idleness, bitter beer, and cigars, I ought not to be anywhere where
+these ingredients compose the chief part of existence. Now the Cape is
+precisely one of these places; and if you abstract the idleness,
+the bitter beer, and the tobacco, there is nothing left but a little
+Hottentotism, which is neither pleasant nor profitable. Voted,
+therefore, I am not to go to the Cape. It is much easier, however, to
+open the geography books, and show all the places I am unfit for, than
+to hit upon the one that will suit me. And so I am going up to Dublin
+to-morrow with Sir Brook to consult--I don't well know whom, perhaps a
+fortune-teller--what 's to be done with me. All I do know is, I am to
+see my grandfather, and to wait on the Viceroy, and I don't anticipate
+that any of us will derive much pleasure from either event."
+
+"Oh, Tom! what happiness it would be to me if grandpapa--" She stopped,
+blushed, and tried in vain to go on.
+
+"Which is about the least likely thing in the world, Lucy," said he,
+answering her unspoken sentence. "I am just the sort of creature he
+could n't abide,--not to add that, from all I have heard of him, I 'd
+rather take three years with hard labor at the hulks than live with him.
+It will do very well with you. You have patience, and a soft forgiving
+disposition. You 'll fancy yourself, besides, Heaven knows what of a
+heroine, for submitting to his atrocious temper, and imagine slavery to
+be martyrdom. Now, I could n't. I 'd let him understand that I was one
+of the family, and had a born right to be as ill-tempered, as selfish,
+and as unmannerly as any other Lendrick."
+
+"But if he should like you, Tom? If you made a favorable impression upon
+him when you met?"
+
+"If I should, I think I 'd go over to South Carolina, and ask some one
+to buy me as a negro, for I 'd know in my heart it was all I could be
+fit for."
+
+"Oh, my dear, dear Tom, I wish you would meet him in a different spirit,
+if only for poor papa's sake. You know what store he lays by grandpapa's
+affection."
+
+"I see it, and it puzzles me. If any one should continue to ill-treat
+me for five-and-twenty years, I 'd not think of beginning to forgive him
+till after fifty more, and I 'm not quite sure I 'd succeed then."
+
+"But you are to meet him, Tom," said she, hopefully. "I trust much to
+your meeting."
+
+"That 's more than I do, Lucy. Indeed, I 'd not go at all, except on the
+condition which I have made with myself, to accept nothing from him.
+I had not meant to tell you this; but it has escaped me, and can't
+be helped. Don't hang your head and pout your lip over that bad boy,
+brother Tom. I intend to be as submissive and as humble in our interview
+as if I was going to owe my life to him, just because I want him to be
+very kind and gracious to you; and I 'd not wish to give him any reason
+for saying harsh things of me, which would hurt you to listen to. If I
+only knew how--and I protest I do not--I'd even try and make a favorable
+impression upon him, for I 'd like to be able to come and see you, Lucy,
+now and then, and it would be a sore blow to me if he forbade me."
+
+"You don't think I'd remain under his roof if he should do so?" asked
+she, indignantly.
+
+"Not if you saw him turn me away,--shutting the door in my face; but
+what scores of civil ways there are of intimating that one is not
+welcome! But why imagine all these?--none of them may happen; and, as
+Sir Brook says, the worst misfortunes of life are those that never come
+to us; and I, for one, am determined to deal only with real, actual,
+present enemies. Is n't he a rare old fellow?--don't you like him,
+Lucy?"
+
+"I like him greatly."
+
+"He loves you, Lucy,--he told me so; he said you were so like a girl
+whose godfather he was, and that he had loved her as if she were his
+own. Whether she had died, or whether something had happened that
+estranged them, I could n't make out; but he said you had raised up
+some old half-dead embers in his heart, and kindled a flame where he had
+thought all was to be cold forever; and the tears came into his eyes,
+and that great deep voice of his grew fainter and fainter, and something
+that sounded like a sob stopped him. I always knew he was a brave,
+stout-hearted, gallant fellow; but that he could feel like this I never
+imagined. I almost think it was some girl he was going to be married
+to once that you must be so like. Don't you think so?" "I don't know;
+I cannot even guess," said she, slowly. "It's not exactly the sort of
+nature where one would expect to find much sentiment; but, as he
+said one day, some old hearts are like old chateaux, with strange old
+chambers in them that none have traversed for years and years, and with
+all the old furniture moth-eaten and crumbling, but standing just where
+it used to be. I 'd not wonder if it was of himself he was speaking."
+
+She remained silent and thoughtful, and he went on,--"There's a deal of
+romance under that quaint stern exterior. What do you think he said this
+morning?--'Your father's heart is wrapped up in this place, Tom; let us
+set to work to make money and buy it for him. 'I did not believe he was
+serious, and I said some stupid nonsense about a diamond necklace and
+ear-rings for you on the day of presentation; and he turned upon me with
+a fierce look, and in a voice trembling with anger, said, 'Well, sir,
+and whom would they become better? Is it her birth or her beauty would
+disparage them, if they were the jewels of a crown?' I know I 'll not
+cross another whim of his in the same fashion again; though he came
+to my room afterwards to make an apology for the tone in which he had
+spoken, and assured me it should never be repeated." "I hope you told
+him you had not felt offended." "I did more,--I did, at least, what
+pleased him more,--I said I was delighted with that plan of his about
+buying up the Nest, and that the very thought gave a zest to any pursuit
+I might engage in; and so, Lucy, it is settled between us that if
+his Excellency won't make me something with a fine salary and large
+perquisites, Sir Brook and I are to set out I'm not very sure where, and
+we are to do I'm not quite certain what; but two such clever fellows,
+uniting experience with energy, can't fail, and the double event--I mean
+the estate and the diamonds--are just as good as won already. Well,
+what do you want, Nicholas?" cried Tom, as the grim old man put his head
+inside the door and retired again, mumbling something as he went. "Oh,
+I remember it now; he has been tormenting the governor all day about
+getting him some place,--some situation or other; and the old rascal
+thinks we are the most ungrateful wretches under the sun, to be so full
+of our own affairs and so forgetful of his: we are certainly not likely
+to leave him unprovided for; he can't imagine that. Here he comes again.
+My father is gone into Killaloe, Nicholas; but don't be uneasy, he 'll
+not forget you."
+
+"Forgettin's one thing, Master Tom, and rememberin's the right way is
+another," said Nicholas, sternly. "I told him yesterday, and I repeated
+it to-day, I won't go among them Hottentots."
+
+"Has he asked you?"
+
+"Did he ask me?" repeated the old man, leaning forward and eying him
+fiercely,--"did he ask me?"
+
+"My brother means, Nicholas, that papa could n't expect you to go so far
+away from your home and your friends."
+
+"And where's my home and my friends?" cried the irascible old fellow;
+"and I forty-eight years in the family? Is that the way to have a home
+or friends either?"
+
+"No, Tom, no,--I entreat--I beg of you," said Lucy, standing between her
+brother and the old man, and placing her hand on Tom's lips; "you know
+well that he can't help it."
+
+"That's just it," cried Nicholas, catching the words; "I can't help it.
+I 'm too old to help it. It is n't after eight-and-forty years one ought
+to be looking out for new sarvice."
+
+"Papa hopes that grandpapa will have no objection to taking you,
+Nicholas; he means to write about it to-day; but if there should be a
+difficulty, he has another place."
+
+"Maybe I'm to 'list and be a sodger; faix, it wouldn't be much worse
+than going back to your grandfather."
+
+"Why, you discontented old fool," burst in Tom, "have n't you been
+teasing our souls out these ten years back by your stories of the fine
+life you led in the Chief Baron's house?"
+
+"The eatin' was better, and the drinkin' was better," said Nicholas,
+resolutely. "Wherever the devil it comes from, the small beer here bangs
+Banagher; but for the matter of temper he was one of yourselves! and by
+my sowl, it's a family not easily matched!"
+
+"I agree with you; any other man than my father would have pitched you
+neck and crop into the Shannon years ago,--I 'll be shot if I would
+n't."
+
+"Mind them words. What you said there is a threat; it's what the law
+makes a constructive threat, and we 'll see what the Coorts say to it."
+
+"I declare, Nicholas, you would provoke any one; you will let no one be
+your friend," said Lucy; and taking her brother's arm she led him away,
+while the old man, watching them till they entered the shrubbery, seated
+himself leisurely in a deep arm-chair, and wiped the perspiration from
+his forehead. "By my conscience," muttered he, "it takes two years off
+my life every day I have to keep yez in order."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. MR. HAIRE'S MISSION.
+
+Although the Chief Baron had assured Haire that his mission had no
+difficulty about it, that he 'd find her Ladyship would receive him in a
+very courteous spirit, and, finally, that "he'd do the thing" admirably,
+the unhappy little lawyer approached his task with considerable
+misgivings, which culminated in actual terror as he knocked at the door
+of the house where Lady Lendrick resided in Merrion Square, and sent up
+his name.
+
+"The ladies are still in committee, sir," said a bland-looking,
+usher-like personage, who, taking up Haire's card from the salver,
+scanned the name with a half-supercilious look.
+
+"In committee! ah, indeed, I was not aware," stammered out Haire. "I
+suspect--that is--I have reason to believe her Ladyship is aware--I mean
+my name is not unknown to Lady Lendrick--would you kindly present my
+card?"
+
+"Take it up, Bates," said the man in black, and then turned away to
+address another person, for the hall was crowded with people of various
+conditions and ranks, and who showed in their air and manner a something
+of anxiety, if not of impatience.
+
+"Mr. MacClean,--where's Mr. MacClean?" cried a man in livery, as he held
+forth a square-shaped letter. "Is Mr. MacClean there?"
+
+"Yes, I'm Mr. MacClean," said a red-faced, fussy-looking man. "I'm Mr.
+George Henry MacClean, of 41 Mount Street."
+
+"Two tickets for Mr. MacClean," said the usher, handing him the letter
+with a polite bow.
+
+"Mr. Nolan, Balls Bridge,--does any one represent Mr. Nolan of Balls
+Bridge?" said the usher, haughtily.
+
+"That 's me," said a short man, who wiped the perspiration from his face
+with a red-spotted handkerchief, as large as a small bed-quilt,--"that's
+me."
+
+"The references not satisfactory, Mr. Nolan," said the usher, reading
+from a paper in his hand.
+
+"Not satisfactory?--what do you mean? Is Peter Arkins, Esquire,
+of Clontarf, unsatisfactory? Is Mr. Ryland, of Abbey Street,
+unsatisfactory?"
+
+"I am really, sir, unable to afford you the explanation you desire. I am
+simply deputed by her Ladyship to return the reply that I find written
+here. The noise is really so great here I can hear nothing. Who are you
+asking for, Bates?"
+
+"Mr. Mortimer O'Hagan."
+
+"He's gone away," cried a voice; "he was here since eleven o'clock."
+
+"Application refused. Will some one tell Mr. O'Hagan his application is
+refused?" said the usher, austerely.
+
+"Might I be bold enough to ask what is going forward?" whispered Haire.
+
+"Mr. W. Haire, Ely Place," shouted out the man in livery. "Card refused
+for want of a reference."
+
+"You ought to have sent up two names,--well-known names, Mr. Haire,"
+said the usher, with a politeness that seemed marked. "It's not too late
+yet; let me see," and he looked at his watch, "we want a quarter to one;
+be back here in half an hour. Take a car,--you 'll find one at the door.
+Get your names, and I 'll see if I can't do it for you."
+
+"I am afraid I don't understand you, and I am sure you don't understand
+me. I came here by appointment--" The rest of the sentence was lost by a
+considerable bustle and movement that now ensued, for a number of ladies
+descended the stairs, chatting and laughing freely; while servants
+rushed hither and thither, calling up carriages, or inquiring for others
+not yet come. The usher, frantically pushing the crowd aside to clear a
+path for the ladies, was profuse of apologies for the confusion; adding
+at the same time that "it was twice as bad an hour ago. There were n't
+less than two hundred here this morning."
+
+A number of little pleasantries passed as the bland usher handed the
+ladies to their carriages; and it was evident by their laughter that his
+remarks were deemed pungent and witty. Meanwhile the hall was becoming
+deserted. The persons who had crowded there, descending singly or in
+groups, went their several ways, leaving Haire the only one behind. "And
+now, sir," said the usher, "you see it's all over. You would n't take my
+advice. They are all gone, and it's the last meeting."
+
+"Will you favor me so far as to say for what did they meet? What was the
+object of the gathering?"
+
+"I suppose, sir, you are not a reader of the morning papers?"
+
+"Occasionally. Indeed, I always glance at them."
+
+"Well, sir, and has not your glance fallen upon the announcement of the
+ball,--the grand ball to be given at the-Rotundo for the orphan asylum
+called the 'Rogues Redemptory,' at Rathmines, at the head of whose
+patronesses stands my Lady's name?"
+
+Haire shook his head in negative.
+
+"And have you not come like the rest with an application for permission
+to attend the ball?"
+
+"No; I have come to speak to Lady Lendrick--and by appointment too."
+
+A faint but prolonged "Indeed!" expressed the usher's-astonishment,
+and he turned and whispered a few words to-a footman at his side. He
+disappeared, and returned in & moment to say that her Ladyship would see
+Mr. Haire.
+
+"I trust you will forgive me, sir," said Lady Lendrick,--a very large,
+very showy, and still handsome woman,--as she motioned him to be seated.
+"I got your card when my head was so full of this tiresome ball, and I
+made the absurd mistake of supposing you came for tickets. You are, I
+think your note says, an old friend of Mr. Thomas-Lendrick?"
+
+"I am an old friend of his father's. Madam! The Chief Baron and myself
+were schoolfellows."
+
+"Yes, yes: I have no doubt," said she, hurriedly; "but from your note--I
+have it here somewhere," and she rummaged amongst a lot of papers that
+littered the table,--"your note gave me to understand that your visit
+to me regarded Mr. Thomas Lendrick, and not the Chief Baron. It is
+possible, however, I may have mistaken your meaning. I wish I could find
+it. I laid it out of my hand a moment ago. Oh, here it is! now we shall
+see which of us is right," and with a sort of triumph she opened the
+letter and read aloud, slurring over the few commencing lines till she
+came to "that I may explain to your Ladyship the circumstances by
+which Mr. Thomas Lendrick's home will for the present be broken up,
+and entreat of you to extend to his daughter the same kind interest and
+favor you have so constantly extended to her father." "Now, sir, I hope
+I may say that it is not _I_ have been mistaken. If I read this passage
+aright, it bespeaks my consideration for a young lady who will shortly
+need a home and a protectress."
+
+"I suppose I expressed myself very ill. I mean, Madam, I take it, that
+in my endeavor not to employ any abruptness, I may have fallen into
+some obscurity. Shall I own, besides," added he, with a tone of
+half-desperation in his voice, "that I had no fancy for this mission
+of mine at all,--that I undertook it wholly against my will?
+Baron Len-drick's broken health, my old friendship for him, his
+insistence,--and you can understand what _that_ is, eh?"--he thought she
+was about to speak; but she only gave a faint equivocal sort of smile,
+and he went on: "All these together overcame my scruples, and I agreed
+to come." He paused here as though he had made the fullest and most
+ample explanation, and that it was now her turn to speak.
+
+"Well, sir," said she, "go on; I am all ears for your communication."
+
+"There it is: that 's the whole of it, Madam. You are to understand
+distinctly that with the arrangement itself I had no concern whatever.
+Baron Lendrick never asked my advice; I never tendered it. I 'm not sure
+that I should have concurred with his notions,--but that 's nothing to
+the purpose; all that I consented to was to come here, to tell you
+the thing is so, and why it is so--there!" and with this he wiped his
+forehead, for the exertion had heated and fatigued him.
+
+"I know I 'm very dull, very slow of comprehension; and in compassion
+for this defect, will you kindly make your explanation a little, a very
+little, fuller? What is it that is _so?_" and she emphasized the last
+word with a marked sarcasm in her tone.
+
+"Oh, I can see that your Ladyship may not quite like it. There is no
+reason why you should like it,--all things considered; but, after all,
+it may turn out very well. If she suit him, if she can hit it off with
+his temper,--and she may,--young folks have often more forbearance than
+older ones,--there 's no saying what it may lead to."
+
+"Once for all, sir," said she, haughtily, for her temper was sorely
+tried, "what is this thing which I am not to like, and yet bound to
+bear?"
+
+"I don't think I said that; I trust I never said your Ladyship was bound
+to bear anything. So well as I can recall the Chief Baron's words,--and,
+God forgive me, but I wish I was--no matter what or where--when I heard
+them,--this is the substance of what he said: 'Tell her,' meaning
+your Ladyship,--'tell her that, rightly understood, the presence of my
+granddaughter as mistress of my house--'"
+
+"What do you say, sir?--is Miss Lendrick coming to reside at the
+Priory?"
+
+"Of course--what else have I been saying this half-hour?"
+
+"To take the position of lady of the house?" said she, not deigning to
+notice his question.
+
+"Just so, Madam."
+
+"I declare, sir, bold as the step is,"--she arose as she spoke, and drew
+herself haughtily up,--"bold as the step is, it is not half so bold as
+your own courage in coming to tell of it. What the Chief Baron had not
+the hardihood to communicate in writing, you dare to deliver to me by
+word of mouth,--you dare to announce to me that my place, the station
+I ought to fill, is to be occupied by another, and that whenever I pass
+the threshold of the Priory, I come as the guest of Lucy Lendrick! I
+do hope, sir, I may attribute to the confusion of your faculties--a
+confusion of which this short interview has given me proof--that you
+really never rightly apprehended the ignominy of the mission your friend
+intrusted to you."
+
+"You 're right there," said he, placing both his hands on the side of
+his head; "confusion is just the name for it."
+
+"Yes, sir; but I apprehend you must have undertaken this office in a
+calm moment, and let me ask you how you could have lent yourself to
+such a task? You are aware, for the whole world is aware, that in living
+apart from the Chief Baron I am yielding to a necessity imposed by his
+horrible, his insufferable temper; now, how long will this explanation
+be valid, if my place in any respect should be occupied by another? The
+isolation in which he now lives, his estrangement from the world, serve
+to show that he has withdrawn from society, and accepted the position of
+a recluse. Will this continue now? Will these be the habits of the
+house with a young lady at its bead, free to indulge all the caprices of
+ignorant girlhood? I declare, sir, I wonder how a little consideration
+for your friend might not have led you to warn him against the
+indiscretion he was about to commit. The slight to me," said she,
+sarcastically, and flushing deeply, "it was possible you might overlook;
+but I scarcely see how you could have forgotten the stain that must
+attach to that 'large intellect,--that wise and truly great man.' I
+am quoting a paragraph I read in the 'Post' this morning, with which,
+perhaps, you are familiar."
+
+"I did not see it," said Haire, helplessly.
+
+"I declare, sir, I was unjust enough to think you wrote it. I thought no
+one short of him who had come on your errand to-day could have been the
+author."
+
+"Well, I wish with all my heart I 'd never come," said he, with a
+melancholy gesture of his hands.
+
+"I declare, sir, I am not surprised at your confession. I suppose you
+are not aware that in the very moment adopted for this--this--this new
+establishment, there is something like studied insult to me. It is only
+ten days ago I mentioned to the Chief Baron that my son, Colonel Sewell,
+was coming back from India on a sick-leave. He has a wife and three
+little children, and, like most soldiers, is not over-well off. I
+suggested that as the Priory was a large roomy house, with abundant
+space for many people without in the slightest degree interfering with
+each other, he should offer the Sewells to take them in. I said nothing
+more,--nothing about _menage_,--no details of any kind. I simply said:
+"Could n't you give the Sewells the rooms that look out on the back
+lawn? Nobody ever enters them; even when you receive in the summer
+evenings, they are not opened. It would be a great boon to an invalid to
+be housed so quietly, so removed from all noise and bustle.' And to mark
+how I intended no more, I added, 'They would n't bore you, nor need you
+ever see them unless you wished for it.' And what was his reply? 'Madam,
+I never liked soldiers. I 'm not sure that his young wife would n't be
+displeasing to me, and I know that his children would be insufferable.'
+
+"I said, 'Let me take the dear children, then.' 'Do, by all means, and
+their dear parents also,' he broke in. 'I should be in despair if I
+thought I had separated you.' Yes, sir, I give you his very words. This
+wise and truly great man, or truly wise and great--which is it?--had
+nothing more generous nor more courteous to say to me than a sarcasm and
+an impertinence. Are you not proud of your friend?"
+
+Never was there a more unlucky peroration, from the day when Lord Denman
+concluded an eloquent defence of a queen's innocence by appealing to
+the unhappy illustration which called forth the touching words, "Let him
+that is without sin cast the first stone at her." Never was there a more
+signal blunder than to ask this man to repudiate the friendship which
+had formed the whole pride and glory of his life.
+
+"I should think I _am_ proud of him, Madam," said he, rising, and
+speaking with a boldness that amazed even himself. "I was proud to be
+his class-fellow at school; I was proud to sit in the same division with
+him in college,--proud when he won his gold medal and carried off his
+fellowship. It was a proud day to me when I saw him take his seat on
+the bench; and my heart nearly burst with pride when he placed me on
+his right hand at dinner, and told the Benchers and the Bar that we
+had walked the road of life together, and that the grasp of my hand--he
+called it my honest hand--had been the ever-present earnest of each
+success he had achieved in his career. Yes, Madam, I am very proud of
+him; and my heart must be cold indeed before I cease to be proud of
+him."
+
+"I declare, sir, you astonish, you amaze me. I was well aware how that
+truly great and wise man had often inspired the eloquence of attack.
+Many have assailed--many have vituperated him; but that any one
+should have delivered a panegyric on the inestimable value of his
+friendship!--his friendship, of all things!--is what I was not prepared
+for."
+
+Haire heard the ringing raillery of her laugh; he was stung by he knew
+not what tortures of her scornful impertinence; bitter, biting words,
+very cruel words, too, fell over and around him like a sort of hail;
+they beat on his face and rattled over his head and shoulders. He was
+conscious of a storm, and conscious too that he sought neither shelter
+nor defence, but only tried to fly before the hurricane, whither he knew
+not.
+
+How he quitted that room, descended the stairs, and escaped from the
+house, he never was able to recall. He was far away outside the city
+wandering along through an unfrequented suburb ere he came to his full
+consciousness, murmuring to himself ever as he went, "What a woman, what
+a woman! what a temper,--ay, and what a tongue!" Without any guidance of
+his own--without any consciousness of it--he walked on and on, till
+he found himself at the gate-lodge of the Priory; a carriage was just
+passing in, and he stopped to ask whose it was. It was the Chief Baron's
+granddaughter who had arrived that morning by train. He turned back when
+he heard this, and returned to town. "Whether you like it or not, Lady
+Lendrick, it is done now, and there 's no good in carrying on the issue
+after the verdict." And with this reflection, embodying possibly as
+much wisdom as his whole career had taught him, he hastened homeward,
+secretly determining, if he possibly could, never to reveal anything to
+the Chief Baron of his late interview with Lady Lendrick.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. SORROWS AND PROJECTS
+
+Dr. Lendrick and his son still lingered at the Swan's Nest after Lucy's
+departure for the Priory. Lendrick, with many things to arrange and
+prepare for his coming voyage, was still so overcome by the thought of
+breaking up his home and parting from his children, that he could not
+address his mind to anything like business. He would wander about for
+hours through the garden and the shrubberies, taking leave, as he
+called it, of his dear plants and flowers, and come back to the house
+distressed and miserable. Often and often would he declare to Sir Brook,
+who was his guest, that the struggle was too much for him. "I never
+was a man of ardor or energy, and it is not now, when I have passed the
+middle term of life, that I am to hope for that spring and elasticity
+which were denied to my youth. Better for me send for Lucy, and stay
+where I am; nowhere shall I be so happy again." Then would come the
+sudden thought that all this was mere selfishness, that in this life of
+inaction and indolence he was making no provision for that dear girl be
+loved so well. Whatever hopes the reconciliation with his father might
+lead to, would of course be utterly scattered to the winds by an act
+so full of disobedience as this. "It is true," thought he, "I may fail
+abroad as I have failed at home. Success and I are scarcely on speaking
+terms,--but the grandfather cannot leave the granddaughter whom he has
+taken from her home, totally uncared and unprovided for."
+
+As for young Tom, Sir Brook had pledged himself to-take care of him. It
+was a vague expression enough; it might mean anything, everything, or
+nothing. Sir Brook Fossbrooke had certainly, in worldly parlance, not
+taken very good care of himself,--far from it; he had squandered and
+made away with two large estates and an immense sum in ready money. It
+was true he had friends everywhere,--some of them very great people
+with abundant influence, and well able to help those they cared for; but
+Fossbrooke was not one of those who ask; and the world has not yet come
+to the millennial beatitude in which one's friends importune them with
+inquiries how they are to be helped, what and where they wish for.
+
+Many a time in the course of country-house life--at breakfast, as
+the post came in, and during the day, as a messenger would deliver a
+telegram--some great man would say, "There is a vacancy there--such
+a one has died--so-and-so has retired. There's a thing to suit you,
+Fossbrooke,"--and Sir Brook would smile, say a word or two that implied
+nothing, and so would end the matter. If "my Lord" ever retained any
+memory of the circumstance some time after, it would be that he had
+offered something to Fossbrooke, who would n't take it, did n't care for
+it. For so is it throughout life; the event which to one is the veriest
+trifle of the hour, is to another a fate and a fortune; and then, great
+folk who lead lives of ease and security are very prone to forget that
+humble men have often a pride very disproportioned to their condition,
+and are timidly averse to stretch out the hand for what it is just
+possible it may not be intended they should touch.
+
+At all events, Fossbrooke went his way through the world a mystery to
+many and a puzzle,--some averring that it was a shame to his friends in
+power that he had "got nothing," others as stoutly declaring that he was
+one whom no office would tempt, nor would any place requite him for the
+loss of liberty and independence.
+
+He himself was well aware of each of these theories, but too proud to
+say a word to those who professed either of them. If, however, he was
+too haughty to ask for himself, he was by no means above being a suitor
+for his friends; and many a one owed to his active solicitude the
+advancement which none stood more in need of than himself.
+
+"We shall make the Viceroy do something for us, Tom," he would say.
+"Think over what it shall be,--for that's the invariable question, What
+is it you want? And it's better far to say, Make me an archbishop, than
+have to own that you want anything, and are, maybe, fit for nothing."
+
+Though Lendrick was well disposed towards Fossbrooke, and fully sensible
+of his manly honesty and frankness, he could not help seeing that he
+was one of those impulsive sanguine natures that gain nothing from
+experience beyond the gift of companionship. They acquire all that can
+make them delightful in society,--boons they are,--and especially to
+those whose more prudent temperament inclines them to employ their gifts
+more profitably. Scores of these self-made men, rich to overflowing with
+all that wealth could buy around them, would say, What a happy fellow
+was Fossbrooke! what a blessing it was to have his nature, his spirits,
+buoyancy, and such-like,--to be able to enjoy life as he did! Perhaps
+they believed all that they said too,--who knows? When they made such
+speeches to himself, as they would at times, he heard them with the
+haughty humility of one who hears himself praised for that which the
+flatterer deems a thing too low for envy. He well understood how cheaply
+others estimated his wares, for they were a scrip that figured in no
+share-list, and never were quoted at a premium.
+
+Lendrick read him very correctly, and naturally thought that a more
+practical and a more worldly guide would have been better for Tom,--some
+one to hold him back, not to urge him forward; some one to whisper
+prudence, restraint, denial,--not daring, and dash, and indulgence. But
+somehow these flighty, imaginative, speculative men have very often a
+wonderful persuasiveness about them, and can give to the wildest dreams
+a marvellous air of substance and reality. A life so full of strange
+vicissitudes as Fossbrooke's seemed a guarantee for any--no matter
+what--turn of fortune. Hear him tell of where he had been, what he had
+done, and with whom, and you at once felt you were in presence of one to
+whom no ordinary laws of worldly caution or prudence applied.
+
+That his life had compassed many failures and few successes was plain
+enough. He never sought to hide the fact.
+
+Indeed, he was candor itself in his confessions, only that he
+accompanied them by little explanations, showing the exact spot and
+moment in which he had lost the game. It was wonderful what credit he
+seemed to derive from these disclosures. It was like an honest trader
+showing his balance-sheet to prove that, but for the occurrence of such
+ills as no prudence could ward off, his condition must have been one of
+prosperity.
+
+Never did he say anything more truthful than that "he had never cared
+for money." So long as he had it he used it lavishly, thoughtlessly,
+very often generously. When he ceased to have it, the want scarcely
+appeared to touch him personally. Indeed, it was only when some
+necessity presented itself to aid this one or extricate that, he would
+suddenly remember his impotence to be of use, and then the sting of his
+poverty would sorely pain him.
+
+Like all men who have suffered reverses, he had to experience the
+different acceptance he met with in his days of humble fortune from what
+greeted him in his era of prosperity. If he felt this, none could detect
+it. His bearing and manner betrayed nothing of such consciousness. A
+very slight increase of stateliness might possibly have marked him in
+his poverty, and an air of more reserved dignity, which showed itself in
+his manner to strangers. In all other respects he was the same.
+
+That such a character should have exercised a great influence over
+a young man like Tom Lendrick--ardent, impetuous, and desirous of
+adventure--was not strange.
+
+"We must make a fortune for Lucy, Tom," said Sir Brook. "Your father's
+nature is too fine strung to be a money-maker, and she must be cared
+for." This was a desire which he continued to utter day after day; and
+though Fossbrooke usually smoked on after he had said it without any
+intimation as to where and when and how this same fortune was to be
+amassed, Tom Lendrick placed the most implicit faith in the assurance
+that it would be done "somehow."
+
+One morning as Lendrick was walking with his son in the garden, making,
+as he called it, his farewell visit to his tulips and moss-roses, he
+asked Tom if any fixed plan had been decided on as to his future.
+
+"We have got several, sir. The difficulty is the choice. Sir Brook was
+at one time very full of buying a great tract in Donegal, and stocking
+it with all sorts of wild animals. We began with deer, antelopes, and
+chamois; and last night we got to wolves, bears, and a tiger. We were
+to have a most commodious shooting-box, and invite parties to come and
+sport, who, instead of going to Bohemia, the Rocky Mountains, and to
+Africa, would find all their savagery near home, and pay us splendidly
+for the privilege.
+
+"There are some difficulties in the plan, it is true; our beasts might
+not be easy to keep within bounds. The jaguar might make an excursion
+into the market-town; the bear might eat a butcher. Sir Brook, besides,
+doubts if _fero_ could be preserved under the game laws. He has sent a
+case to Brewster for his opinion."
+
+"Don't tell me of such absurdities," said Lendrick, trying to repress
+his quiet laugh. "I want you to speak seriously and reasonably."
+
+"I assure you, sir, we have the whole details of this on paper, even to
+the cost of the beasts, and the pensions to the widows of the keepers
+that may be devoured. Another plan that we had, and it looked plausible
+enough too, was to take out a patent for a wonderful medical antidote.
+As Sir Brook says, there is nothing like a patent medicine to make a man
+rich; and by good luck he is possessed of the materials for one. He
+has the secret for curing the bite of the rattlesnake. He got it from
+a Tuscarora Indian, who, I believe, was a sort of father-in-law to him.
+Three applications of this to the wound have never been known to fail."
+
+"But we are not infested with rattlesnakes, Tom."
+
+"That's true, sir. We thought of that, and decided that we should alter
+the prospectus of our company, and we have called it 'The antidote to an
+evil of stupendous magnitude and daily recurrence.
+
+"A new method of flotation in water, by inflating the cellular membrane
+to produce buoyancy; a translation of the historical plays of Shakspeare
+into Tonga, for the interesting inhabitants of those islands; artificial
+rainfall by means of the voltaic battery: these are a few of his
+jottings down in a little book in manuscript he has entitled 'Things to
+be Done.'
+
+"His favorite project, however, is one he has revolved for years in his
+mind, and he is fully satisfied that it contains the germ of boundless
+wealth. It has been shown, he says, that in the smoke issuing from the
+chimneys of great smelt-ing-furnaces, particles of subtilized metal are
+carried away to the amount of thousands of pounds sterling: not merely
+is the quantity great, but the quality, as might be inferred, is of the
+most valuable and precious kind. To arrest and precipitate this waste is
+his project, and he has been for years making experiments to this end.
+He has at length, he believes, arrived at the long-sought-for problem;
+and as he possesses a lead-mine in the island of Sardinia, he means that
+we should set out there, and at once begin operations."
+
+Dr. Lendrick shook his head gravely as he listeued; indeed, Tom's manner
+in detailing Sir Brook's projects was little calculated to inspire
+serious confidence.
+
+"I know, father," cried he, "what you mean. I know well how wild
+and flighty these things appear; but if you had only heard them from
+him,--had you but listened to his voice, and heard him speak of his
+own doubts and fears,--how he canvasses, not merely the value of his
+project, but what the world will say of it and of him,--how modestly he
+rates himself,--how free of all the cant of the discoverer he is,--how
+simply he enters into explanations,--how free to own the difficulties
+that bar success,--I say, if you had experienced these, I feel sure
+you would not escape from him without catching some of that malady of
+speculation which has so long beset him. Nor is one less disposed to
+trust him that he makes no parade of these things. Indeed, they are his
+deepest, most inviolable secrets. In his intercourse with the world no
+one has ever heard him allude to one of these projects, and I have given
+him my solemn pledge not to speak of them, save to you."
+
+"It is a reason to think better of the man, Tom, but not to put more
+faith in the discoveries."
+
+"I believe I take the man and his work together; at all events, when I
+am along with him, and listening to him, he carries me away captive, and
+I am ready to embark in any enterprise he suggests. Here he comes, with
+two letters, I see, in his hand. Did you ever see a man less like a
+visionary, father? Is not every trait of his marked with thought and
+struggle?" This was not the way Tom's father read Fossbrooke, but there
+was no time to discuss the point further.
+
+"A letter for each of you," said Sir Brook, handing them; and then
+taking out a cigar, he strolled down an alley, while they were engaged
+in reading.
+
+"We have got a tenant at last," said Lendrick. "The Dublin house-agent
+has found some one who will take the place as it stands; and now, to
+think of my voyage."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY.
+
+It was well for poor Lendrick that he was not to witness the great
+change which, in a few short weeks, had been effected in his once home.
+So complete, indeed, was the transformation, there was but very little
+left beyond the natural outline of the scenery to remind one of that
+lovely nook in which the tasteful cottage nestled. The conservatory had
+been converted into a dining-room; the former dinner-room being fitted
+up for a billiard-room. The Swiss cowhouse, a pretty little conceit, on
+which Lendrick had lavished some money and more time, was turned into
+a stable, with three loose boxes; and the neat lawn, whose velvet sward
+was scarce less beautiful than the glittering flower-beds that studded
+it, was ruthlessly cut up into a racecourse, with hurdles and fences and
+double ditches, to represent a stiff country, and offer all the features
+of a steeple-chase.
+
+It needed not the assurance of Mr. Kimball, the house-agent, to proclaim
+that his client was very unlike the last occupant of the place. "_He_
+was no recluse, no wretched misanthropist, hiding his discontent amongst
+shrubs and forcing-beds; he was a man of taste and refinement, with
+knowledge of life and its requirements. He would be an acquisition to
+any neighborhood."
+
+Now, the last phrase--and he invariably made it his peroration--has a
+very wide and sweeping acceptation. It appeals to the neighborhood with
+all the charms that pertain to social intercourse; a guest the more and
+a host the more are no small claims in small places. It appeals to the
+parson, as another fountain from which to draw draughts of benevolence.
+To the doctor it whispers fees and familiar dinners. Galen knows that
+the luckiest of men are not exempt from human ills, and that gout comes
+as a frequent guest where the cook is good and the wine tempting;
+and the butcher himself revels in the thought of a "good family" that
+consumes sirloins and forestalls sweetbreads.
+
+It was somewhat trying to young Tom Lendrick, who had gone down to the
+Nest to fetch away some remnants of fishing-tackle he had left there, to
+hear these glowing anticipations of the new-comer, so evidently placed
+in contrast with the quiet and inexpensive life his father had led. How
+unlike were his father and this "acquisition to any neighborhood,"
+was impressed upon him at any moment! How could a life of unobtrusive
+kindness, of those daily ministerings to poor men's wants, compete with
+the glitter and display which were to adorn a neighborhood?
+
+Already were people beginning to talk of Lendrick as odd, eccentric,
+peculiar; to set down his finest qualities as strange traits of a
+strange temperament, and rather, on the whole, to give themselves credit
+for the patience and forbearance which they had shown to one who, after
+all, was "simply an egotist."
+
+Yes, such are not unfrequent judgments in this same world of ours; and
+if you would have men's suffrages for the good you do, take care that
+you do it conventionally. Be in all things like those around you; and if
+there be a great man in your vicinity, whenever a doubt arises in your
+mind as to any course of action, do as you may imagine he might do.
+
+Young Lendrick came away not a little disgusted with this taste of human
+fickleness. The sight of their old home changed even to desecration was
+bad enough, but this cold ingratitude was worse.
+
+Had he gone into the cabins of the poor, had he visited the humble
+dwellings where his father's generous devotion had brought him face
+to face with famine and fever, he would have heard much to redress the
+balance of these opinions. He would have heard those warm praises
+that come from sorrow-stricken hearts, the wail of the friendless and
+forlorn. Tom heard not these, and he returned to town with a feeling of
+anger and resentment against the world he had never known before.
+
+"How absurd it is in old Fossbrooke," thought he, "to go on saying money
+cannot do this, that, and t'other! Why, it can do everything. It does
+not alone make a man great, powerful, and influential, but it gains him
+the praise of being good and kind and generous. Look at my poor father,
+who never had a thought but for others, who postponed himself to all
+around him; and yet here is some one, whose very name is unknown, more
+eagerly looked for, more ardently desired, than would he be were it to
+be announced to-morrow he was coming back to live amongst them. What
+nonsense it is to say that the world cares for any qualities save those
+it can utilize; and I am only amazed how a man could have seen so much
+of life as Sir Brook and gained so little by his experience."
+
+It was in this mood he got back to the little lodging in a humble suburb
+called Cullen's Wood, where Sir Brook awaited him. It is not impossible
+that the disparities of temperament in this world are just as
+beneficial, just as grateful, as are the boundless variety and change we
+find in nature. To Tom Lendrick's depression, almost disgust with life,
+Sir Brook brought that bright, hopeful, happy spirit which knew how to
+throw sunlight on every path to be travelled.
+
+He had received good news, or what he thought was good news, from
+Sardinia. A new vein of ore had been struck,--very "fat" ore they called
+it,--some eighty-odd per cent, and a fair promise of silver in it. "They
+ask me for thirty thousand francs, though, Tom," said he, with a smile;
+"they might as well have written 'pounds' when they were about it. They
+want to repair the engine and erect a new crane. They say, too, the
+chains are worn and unsafe,--a thing to be looked to, or we shall have
+some accidents. In fact, they need fully double what they ask for; and
+seeing how impossible was the performance, I am astonished at their
+modesty."
+
+"And what do you mean to do, sir?" asked Tom, bluntly.
+
+"I have been thinking of two courses: my first thought was to make a
+formal conveyance of the mine to you and your sister, for your joint use
+and benefit. This done, and I standing aloof from all possible interest
+in it, I bethought me of a loan to be raised on the security of the
+property,--not publicly, not generally, but amongst your father's
+friends and well-wishers,--beginning with the neighborhood where he has
+lived so long, and around which he has sowed the seeds of such benefits
+as needs must ripen in gratitude."
+
+"Indulge no delusions on that score, sir. There is not a man in the
+county, except old Mills the vicar, perhaps, has a good word for us; and
+as to going to one of them for assistance, I 'd rather sweep a
+crossing. You shake your head, Sir Brook, and you smile at my passionate
+denunciation; but it is true, every word of it. I heard, in the
+few hours I spent there, scores of stories of my poor father's
+eccentricity,--his forgetfulness, his absence, and what not,--but
+never a syllable of his noble liberality, his self-sacrifice, or his
+gentleness."
+
+"My dear Tom," said the old man, solemnly, "when you have lived to
+one-half my age, you will discover that the world is not so much cursed
+with ill-nature as with levity, and that when men talk disparagingly of
+their fellows, they do so rather to seem witty than to be just. There
+was not, perhaps, one of those who tried to raise a laugh at your
+father's oddities, or who assumed to be droll at his expense, who would
+not in a serious mood have conceded to him every good and great trait
+of his nature. The first step in worldly knowledge is to rise above all
+consideration of light gossip. Take my word for it, we often confirm men
+in wrong thinking by opposition, who, if left to themselves and their
+own hearts, would review their judgments, and even retract them."
+
+Tom took a hasty turn up and down the room; a ready reply was on his
+lip; indeed, it was with difficulty he repressed it, but he did so, and
+stood in seeming acquiescence to what he had heard. At last he said,
+"And the other plan, Sir Brook,--what was that?"
+
+"Perhaps a more likely one, Tom," said the old man, cheerfully. "It was
+to apply directly to your grandfather, a man whose great intelligence
+would enable him to examine a project with whose details he had not ever
+before versed himself, and ask whether he would not make the advance we
+require on mortgage or otherwise."
+
+"I don't think I 'd like to ask him," said Tom, with a grim smile.
+
+"The proposal could come from me," said Sir Brook, proudly, "if he would
+graciously accord me an interview."
+
+Tom turned away to hide a smile, for he thought, if such a meeting were
+to take place, what he would give to be an unseen witness of it,--to
+watch the duel between antagonists so different, and whose weapons were
+so unlike.
+
+"My sister knows him better than any of us," said Tom, at last; "might I
+consult her as to the likelihood of any success with him?"
+
+"By all means; it is what I would have myself advised."
+
+"I will do so, then, to-day. I ought to have gone to see her yesterday;
+but I will go to-day, and report progress when I come back. I have a
+long budget for her," added he, with a sigh,--"a catalogue of all the
+things I am not going to do. I am not going to be a medallist, nor win
+a fellowship, nor even be a doctor; it will, however, give me great
+courage if I can say, I 'll be a miner."
+
+Tom Lendrick was right when he said he should have gone to see his
+sister on the day before, though he was not fully aware how right. The
+Chief Baron, in laying down a few rules for Lucy's guidance, made a
+point of insisting that she should only receive visitors on one day of
+the week; and in this regulation he included even her brother. So averse
+was the old man to be exposed to even a passing meeting with strangers,
+that on these Tuesdays he either kept his room or retired to a little
+garden of which he kept the key, and from whose precincts all were
+rigorously excluded.
+
+Well knowing her brother's impatience of anything like restricted
+liberty, and how rapidly he would connect such an injunction as this
+with a life of servitude and endurance, Lucy took care to make the time
+of receiving him appear a matter of her own choice and convenience, and
+at the time of parting would say, "Good-bye till Tuesday, Tom; don't
+forget Tuesday, for we shall be sure to be alone and to ourselves." He
+the more easily believed this, that on these same Tuesdays the whole
+place seemed deserted and desolate. The grave-looking man in black, who
+preceded him up the stairs, ushered him along the corridor, and finally
+announced him, awaited him like a piece of machinery, repeating every
+movement and gesture with an unbroken uniformity, and giving him to
+understand that not only his coming was expected, but all the details of
+his reception had been carefully prescribed and determined on.
+
+"As I follow that fellow along the passage, Lucy," said Tom, one day, "I
+can't help thinking that I experience every sensation of a man going to
+be hanged,--his solemn face, his measured tread, the silence, and the
+gloom,--only needing pinioned arms to make the illusion perfect."
+
+"Tie them around me, dearest Tom," said she, laughing, and drawing him
+to a seat beside her on the sofa; "and remember," added she, "you have
+a long day. Your sentence will not come off for another week;" and thus
+jestingly did she contrive to time his coming without ever letting him
+know the restrictions that defined his visits.
+
+Now, the day before this conversation between Sir Brook and Tom took
+place being a Tuesday, Lucy had watched long and anxiously for his
+coming. She knew he had gone down to Killaloe on the preceding Saturday,
+but he had assured her he would be back and be with her by Tuesday.
+Lucy's life was far from unhappy, but it was one of unbroken uniformity,
+and the one sole glimpse of society was that meeting with her brother,
+whose wayward thoughts and capricious notions imparted to all he said
+a something striking and amusing. He usually told her how his week had
+been passed,--where he had been and with whom,--and she had learned to
+know his companions, and ask after them by name. Her chief interest was,
+however, about Sir Brook, from whom Tom usually brought a few lines,
+but always in an unsealed envelope, inscribed, "By the favor of Mr.
+Lendrick, jun."
+
+How often would Tom quiz her about the respectful devotion of her old
+admirer, and jestingly ask her if she could consent to marry him. "I
+know he'll ask you the question one of these days, Lucy, and it's your
+own fault if you give him such encouragement as may mislead him." And
+then they would talk over the romance of the old man's nature, wondering
+whether the real world would be rendered more tolerable or the reverse
+by that ideal tone which so imaginative a temperament could give it "Is
+it not strange," said Tom, one day, "that I can see all the weakness of
+his character wherever my own interests do not come, but the moment he
+presents before me some bright picture of a splendid future, a great
+name to achieve, a great fortune to make, that moment he takes me
+captive, and I regard him not as a visionary or a dreamer, but as a man
+of consummate shrewdness and great knowledge of life?"
+
+"In this you resemble Sancho Panza, Tom," said she, laughing. "He had
+little faith in his master's chivalry, but he implicitly believed in the
+island he was to rule over;" and from that day forward she called her
+brother Sancho and Sir Brook the Don.
+
+On the day after that on which Tom's visit should have been but was
+not paid, Lucy sat at luncheon with her grandfather in a small
+breakfast-room which opened on the lawn. The old Judge was in unusual
+spirits; he had just received an address from the Bar, congratulating
+him on his recovery, and expressing hope that he might be soon again
+seen on that Bench he had so much ornamented by his eloquence and his
+wisdom. The newspapers, too, with a fickleness that seems their most
+invariable feature, spoke most flatteringly of his services, and placed
+his name beside those who had conferred highest honor on the judgeship.
+
+"It is neatly worded, Lucy," said the old man, taking up the paper on
+which the address was written; "and the passage that compares me with
+Mansfield is able as well as true. Both Mansfield and myself understood
+how there stands above all written law that higher, greater, grander
+law, that is based in the heart of all humanity, in the hope of an
+eternal justice, and soars above every technicality, by the intense
+desire of truth. It would have been, however, no more than fair to have
+added that, to an intellect the equal of Mansfield, I brought a temper
+which Mansfield had not, and a manner which if found in the courts
+of royalty, is seldom met with on the Bench. I do not quite like
+that phrase, 'the rapid and unerring glance of Erskine.' Erskine was
+brilliant for a Scotchman, but a brilliant Scotchman is but a third-rate
+Irishman. They who penned this might have known as much. I am better
+pleased with the words, 'the noble dignity of Lord Eldon.' There, my
+child, there, they indeed have hit upon a characteristic. In Eldon
+nature seemed to have created the judicial element in a high degree. It
+would be the vulgarity of modesty to pretend not to recognize in my own
+temperament a like organization.
+
+"May I read you, Lucy, the few words in which I mean to reply to this
+courteous address? Will it bore you, my dear?"
+
+"On the contrary, sir, I shall feel myself honored as well as
+interested."
+
+"Sit where you are, then, and I will retire to the far corner of the
+room. You shall judge if my voice and delivery be equal to the effort;
+for I mean to return my thanks in person, Lucy. I mean to add the force
+of my presence to the vigor of my sentiments. I have bethought me of
+inviting those who have signed this document to luncheon here; and it
+may probably be in the large drawing-room that I shall deliver this
+reply. If not, it may possibly be in my court before rising,--I have not
+fully determined." So saying, he arose, and with feeble steps--assisting
+himself, as he went, by the table, and then grasping a chair--he moved
+slowly across the room. She knew him too well to dare to offer her arm,
+or appear in any way to perceive his debility. That he felt, and felt
+bitterly, "the curse of old age," as he once profanely called it, might
+be marked in the firm compression of his lips and the stern frown that
+settled on him, while, as he sank into a seat, a sad weary sigh declared
+the utter exhaustion that overcame him.
+
+It was not till after some minutes that he rallied sufficiently to
+unroll his manuscript and adjust his spectacles. The stillness in the
+room was now perfect; not a sound was heard save the faint hum of a bee
+which had strayed into the room, and was vaguely floating about to
+find an exit. Lucy sat in an attitude of patient attention,--her hands
+crossed before her, and her eyes slightly downcast.
+
+A faint low cough, and he began, but in a voice tremulous and faint,
+"'Mr. Chief Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar'--do you hear me, Lucy?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I hear you."
+
+"I will try to be more audible; I will rest for a moment." fie laid his
+paper on his knees, closed his eyes, and sat immovable for some seconds.
+
+It was at this moment, when to the intense stillness was added a sense
+of expectancy, the honeysuckle that grew across the window moved, the
+frail branches gave way, and a merry voice called out, "Scene the first:
+a young lady discovered at luncheon!" and with a spring Tom Lendrick
+bounced into the room, and, ere her cry of alarm had ended, was clasping
+his sister in his arms.
+
+"Oh, Tom, dearest Tom, why to-day? Grandpapa--grandpapa is here," sighed
+she, rather than whispered, in his ear.
+
+The young man started back, more struck by the emotion he had shown than
+by her words, and the Chief Baron advanced towards him with a manner
+of blended courtesy and dignity, saying, "I am glad to know you. Your
+sister's brother must be very welcome to me."
+
+"I wish I could make a proper excuse for this mode of entry, sir. First
+of all, I thought Lucy was alone; and, secondly--"
+
+"Never mind the second plea; I submit to a verdict on the first," said
+the Judge, smiling.
+
+"Tom forgot; it was Tuesday was his day," began Lucy.
+
+"I have no day; days are all alike to me, Lucy. My occupations of
+Monday could be transferred to a Saturday, or, if need be, postponed
+indefinitely beyond it."
+
+"The glorious leisure of the fortunate," said the Judge, with a peculiar
+smile.
+
+"Or the vacuity of the unlucky, possibly," said Tom, with an easy laugh.
+
+"At all events, young gentleman, you carry your load jauntily."
+
+"One reason is, perhaps, that I never knew it was a load. I have always
+paraded in heavy marching order, so that I don't mind the weight of my
+pack."
+
+For the first time did the old man's features relax into a look of
+kindly meaning. To find the youth not merely-equal to appreciate a
+figure of speech, but able to carry on the illustration, seemed so to
+identify him with his own blood and kindred that the old Judge felt
+himself instinctively drawn towards him.
+
+"Lucy, help your brother to something; there was an excellent curry
+there awhile ago,--if it be not cold."
+
+"I have set my affections on that cold beef. It seems tome an age since
+I have seen a real sirloin."
+
+A slight twitch crossed the Judge's face,--a pang he felt at what might
+be an insinuated reproach at his in hospitality; and he said, in a
+tone of almost apology, "We see no one---absolutely no one--here. Lucy
+resigns herself to the companionship of a very dreary old man whom all
+else have forgotten."
+
+"Don't say so, grandpapa, on the day when such a testimony of esteem and
+affection reaches you."
+
+Young Lendrick looked up from his plate, turning his eyes first towards
+his sister, then towards his grandfather; his glance was so palpably an
+interrogatory, there was no-mistaking it. Perhaps the old man's first
+impulse was not to reply; but his courtesy or his vanity, or a blending
+of both, carried the day, and he said, in a voice of much feeling: "Your
+sister refers to an address I have just received,--an address which
+the Irish Bar have deemed proper to transmit to me with their
+congratulations on my recovery. It is as gratifying, it is as
+flattering, as she says. My brethren have shown that they can rise above
+all consideration of sect or party in tendering their esteem to a man
+whom no administration has ever been able to convert into a partisan."
+
+"But you have always been a Whig, sir, haven't you?" said Tom, bluntly.
+
+"I have been a Whig, sir, in the sense that a King is a Royalist," said
+the old man, haughtily; and though Tom felt sorely provoked to reply
+to this pretentious declaration, he only gave a wicked glance at his
+sister, and drank off his wine.
+
+"It was at the moment of your unexpected appearance," continued the
+Judge, "that I was discussing with your sister whether my reply to this
+compliment would come better if delivered here, or from my place on the
+Bench."
+
+"I 'd say from the Bench," said Tom, as he helped himself to another
+slice of beef.
+
+The old man gave a short cough, with a start. The audacity of tendering
+advice so freely and positively overcame him; and his color, faint
+indeed, rose to his withered cheek, and his eye glittered as he said,
+"Might I have the benefit of hearing the reasons which have led you to
+this opinion?"
+
+"First of all," said Tom, in a careless off-hand way, "I take it the
+thing would have more--what shall I say?--dignity; secondly, the men
+who have signed the address might feel they were treated with more
+consideration; and lastly,--it 's not a very good reason, but I 'm
+bound to own it,--I 'd like to hear it myself, which I could if it were
+delivered in public, but which I am not so likely to do if spoken here."
+
+"Oh, Tom, dear Tom!" whispered his sister, in dismay at a speech so
+certain to be accepted in its least pleasing signification.
+
+"You have already to-day reminded me of my deficiencies in hospitality,
+sir. This second admonition was uncalled for. It is happy for _me_ that
+my defence is unassailable. It is happy for _you_ that your impeachment
+is unwitnessed."
+
+"You have mistaken me, sir," said Tom, eagerly. "I never thought of
+reflecting on your hospitality. I simply meant to say that as I find
+myself here to-day by a lucky accident, I scarcely look to Fortune to do
+me such another good turn in a hurry."
+
+"Your father's fault--a fault that would have shipwrecked fourfold
+more ability than ever he possessed--was a timidity that went to very
+cowardice. He had no faith in himself, and he inspired no confidence
+in others. Yours is, if possible, a worse failing. You have boldness
+without knowledge. You have the rashness that provokes a peril, and
+no part of the skill that teaches how to meet it. It was with a wise
+prescience that I saw we should not be safe company for each other."
+
+He arose as he spoke, and, motioning back Lucy as she approached to
+offer her arm, he tottered from the room, to all seeming more overcome
+by passion than even by years and infirmity.
+
+"Well!" said Tom, as he threw his napkin on the table, and pushed his
+chair back, "I 'll be shot if I know how I provoked that burst of
+anger, or to what I owe that very neat and candid appreciation of my
+character."
+
+Lucy threw her arm around his neck, and, bending over his shoulder till
+her face touched his own, said, "Oh, my dearest Tom, if you only knew
+how nervous and susceptible he is, in part from his nature, but more,
+far more, from suffering and sorrow! Left to the solitude of his own
+bitter thoughts for years, without one creature to whisper a kind word
+or a hopeful thought, is it any wonder if his heart has begun to consume
+itself?"
+
+"Devilish bitter diet it must find it! Pass me over the Madeira, Lucy.
+I mean to have my last glass to the old gentleman's health and better
+temper."
+
+"He has moments of noble generosity that would win all your love," said
+she, enthusiastically.
+
+"You have a harder lot than ever I thought it, my poor Lucy," said
+he, looking into her eyes with an affectionate solicitude. "This is so
+unlike our old home."
+
+"Oh, so unlike!" said she; and her lip quivered and her eyes grew glazy.
+
+"And can you bear it, girl? Does it not seem to you like a servitude to
+put up with such causeless passion, such capricious anger as this?"
+
+She shook her head mournfully, but made no answer.
+
+"If it be your woman's nature enables you to do it, all I can say is, I
+don't envy you your sex."
+
+"But, Tom, remember his years,--remember his age."
+
+"By Jove, he took good care to remind me of my own!--not that he was so
+far wrong in what he said of me, Lucy. I felt all the while he had 'hit
+the blot,' and I would have owned it too, if he had n't taken himself
+off so quickly."
+
+"If you had, Tom,--if you had said but one word to this purport,--you
+would have seen how nobly forgiving he could be in an instant."
+
+"Forgiving,--humph! I don't think the forgiveness was to have come from
+_him_."
+
+"Sir William wishes to speak with you, Miss Lucy," said the butler,
+entering hastily.
+
+"I must go, Tom,--good-bye. I will write to you tomorrow,--to-night, if
+I can,--good-bye, my dearest brother; be sure to come on Tuesday,--mind,
+Tuesday. You will be certain to find me alone."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE FIRST LETTER HOME.
+
+The post of the morning after the events of our last chapter brought
+Lucy a letter from her father. It was the first since his departure.
+What chapters in life are these first letters after absence! How do
+they open to us glimpses of not only new scenes and incidents, but of
+emotions and sentiments which, while we had relied upon them, we had
+never so palpably realized before! There is such ecstasy in thinking
+that time and space are no barriers against love, and that, even as we
+read, the heart that sent the message is beating with affection for us.
+
+Lendrick's letter to his daughter was full of fondness; her image had
+evidently gone with him through all the changes of the voyage, and their
+old home mingled in every thought of the new life before him. It was
+plain enough how unwillingly he turned from the past to the present, and
+how far rather he would revel in the scenes around the Shannon than turn
+to the solitary existence that awaited him beyond the seas.
+
+"I console myself, dear Lucy," wrote he, "as well as I may, by thinking
+that in my great sacrifice I have earned the love of my father,--that
+love from which I have lived so long estranged, and for which my heart
+had never ceased to yearn; and I delight to think how by this time
+you must have grown into his heart, soothed many a care for him, and
+imparted to his solitary life the blessing of that bright hopefulness
+which gave even to my own dull existence a glow of glad sunshine. Out
+of my selfishness I cannot help asking you to remind him of all I have
+given him. And now that my egotism is so fully aroused, let me tell of
+myself. The voyage was less dreary than my fears had made it. I suffered
+at first, it is true; and when at last use had inured me to the sea, I
+fell into a sort of low feverish state, more the result of homesickness,
+perhaps, than real malady. It was a condition of rather depression than
+disease. Nothing could engage, nothing interest me. I could not read,
+neither could I partake in any of the various pastimes by which my
+fellow-voyagers beguiled the hours; and I found myself in that pitiable
+state of sinking daily lower and lower, without what I could call a
+cause for the depression.
+
+"I have more than once in my experience as a doctor had to deal with
+such cases, and I own now that I have neither valued their intensity
+nor understood their importance. I did not, it is true, go to the vulgar
+extent of calling them hippishness; but I did the next worse thing,--I
+treated them as the offspring of an over-easy existence, of a placid
+frictionless life.
+
+"With much shame do I recall how often I have rallied these poor
+sufferers on the vast space that separated them from real sorrow. There
+is no unreality, dearest Lucy, in whatever so overcomes the brain that
+thought is all but madness, and so pains the heart that the whole wish
+is for death. There are subtler influences in our nature than those that
+work by the brain or the blood, and the maladies of these have but one
+physician.
+
+"It was my great good-fortune to have a fellow-traveller who took the
+kindest interest in me. If he could not cure, he certainly did much
+to console me. He was a young man, lately gazetted on the
+commander-in-chief's staff, and who came on board of us in the Downs
+from a frigate bound for England. It was the merest accident that he did
+not miss us and lose his passage.
+
+"I am not a very attractive person, and it was with some astonishment
+that I heard he desired to make my acquaintance; and on meeting he said,
+'Though you have forgotten me, Dr. Lendrick, I had the honor of being
+presented to you at Killaloe by my friend Sir Brook Fossbrooke;' and
+I then remembered all about it, and how it was his features were so
+familiar to me,--very good features, too, they were, with much candor
+and manliness in the expression,--altogether a handsome young fellow,
+and with an air of good birth about him just as distinctive as his good
+looks.
+
+"I am so unused to being singled out by a stranger as the object of
+attentions, that I never fully got over the surprise which this young
+man's attachment to me inspired; and I am not using too strong a word,
+Lucy, when I call it attachment. There might have been, at least to his
+eyes, something in our respective fortunes that suggested this drawing
+towards me. Who knows whether he too might not have parted from a loved
+home and friends!
+
+"When he first came on board, his manner was wild,--almost incoherent;
+he ran here and there, like one in search of something or of somebody,
+but whose name he had forgotten. Indeed he actually startled me by the
+eagerness with which he addressed me; and when I informed him that I was
+alone, quite alone, and as friendles as himself on board, I thought he
+would have fainted. In all this suffering and emotion I suspected that
+I found what led him to a companionship with one as sorrow-stricken as
+himself.
+
+"As it was, there was no care he did not bestow on me. My own dear boy
+himself could not have nursed me more tenderly, nor tried to rally my
+spirits with more affectionate solicitude. He read for me, played chess
+with me, he even lent himself to the sort of reading I liked best, to
+become more companionable to me, withdrawing all this while from the gay
+and pleasant society of young fellows like himself. In a word, Lucy, by
+his devotion to me, he sent through my heart a lurking thought, almost
+like a hope, that I must somehow have certain qualities for which the
+world at large had not yet credited me, which could make me of
+interest to a young, bright-natured creature, fresh to life and all its
+enjoyments; and from the self-esteem of this notion I really believe I
+drew more encouragement than from any amount of more avowed approbation.
+
+"I feel I am not wearying you, my darling Lucy, by dwelling even with
+prolixity on what beguiled the long hours of absence, the weary, weary
+days at sea.
+
+"When we landed, for a time at least, I only met him now and then;
+he had his duties, and I had mine. I had to look out for a house. My
+predecessor's family are still occupying the official residence, and
+have begged of me leave to remain there a little longer. I had my visits
+of duty or compliment to make, and a whole round of little courtesies to
+perform, for which I well know I have all your sympathy. Every one was,
+however, kind and polite; some were even friendly. Indeed, my very want
+of manner, my awkward bashfulness and deficient tact, have, I can
+see, not injured me in the esteem of those whose worldly breeding and
+knowledge have taught them to be compassionate as well as courteous.
+
+"Amongst the many persons to whom I was presented I made two
+acquaintances of more than common interest to me,--I will not go
+farther, and say of any great degree of gratification. In dining with
+the Governor, yesterday week, he said, 'You will meet a relation to-day,
+Dr. Lendrick. His ship has just put in to coal, and he and his wife dine
+with us.' Though quite persuaded the Governor was laboring under some
+mistake, I waited with anxiety as the different arrivals were announced,
+and at last came Colonel and Mrs. Sewell,--the Colonel being Lady
+Lendrick's son by her first marriage,--what relation to myself all my
+skill in genealogy is unable to pronounce.
+
+"We met, however, shook hands very cordially, and I had the honor to
+conduct Mrs. Sewell to table. I am unfortunately terribly prone to first
+impressions, and all those that I entertain regarding the Colonel
+are adverse. He is a tall, handsome man, easy in manner, and with the
+readiness in speech and address that shows familiarity with life. He
+however will never suffer your eyes to meet his, never exchange a
+frank look with you, and seems, from some cause or other, to be always
+laboring under an impatient anxiety to be somewhere else than where he
+stands at the moment.
+
+"He asked about my father, and never waited for my reply; and he
+laughingly said, with a bad taste that shocked me, 'My mother and he
+never could hit it off together.'
+
+"Mrs. Sewell interested me more than her husband. She is still very
+handsome; she must at one time have been perfectly beautiful. She is
+very gentle, low-voiced, and quiet, talking with a simplicity that even
+I can detect only covers a deep knowledge of life and the world. The
+dread of her husband seems, however, to pervade all she says or does.
+She changes color when he looks at her, and if he addresses her, she
+sometimes seems about to faint. His slightest word is accepted as a
+command; and yet with all this terror--terror it was--I caught a
+look that once passed between them that actually overwhelmed me
+with amazement. It was the very look that two accomplices might have
+interchanged in a moment when they could not communicate more freely.
+Don't think that there is any exaggeration in this, Lucy, or that I
+am assuming to possess a finer insight into human motives than my
+neighbors; but my old craft as a doctor supplies me with a technical
+skill that no acquaintance with the mere surface-life of the world could
+have given; for the _Medico_ reads mankind by a stronger and steadier
+light than ever shone out of conventionalities or social usages.
+
+"'We are on our way to England, to Ireland, perhaps,' he said to me, in
+a careless way; but she, not aware of his speech, told me they had been
+invited to the Priory,--a piece of information which I own startled
+me. First of all, they are not by any means like people who would be
+agreeable to my father, nor, so far as I can guess, are they persons who
+would easily sacrifice their own modes of life and habits to the wishes
+of a recluse. Least of all, dearest Lucy, do I desire this lady to be
+your companion. She has, I see, many attractive qualities; she may have
+others as good and excellent; but if I do not greatly err, her
+whole nature and being are in subjection to a very stern, cold, and
+unscrupulous man, and she is far from being all that she should be with
+such gifts as she possesses, and farther again from what she might have
+been with a happier destiny in marriage.
+
+"If it were not that you are so certain to meet, and not improbably see
+much of these people, I should not have filled so much of my letter with
+them; but I confess to you, since I saw them they have never been out
+of my thoughts. Our relationship--if that be the name for it--led us
+rapidly into considerable intimacy; he brought his children--two lovely
+girls, and a little cherub of a boy of three years old--to see me
+yesterday, and Mrs. Sewell comes to take me to drive every day after
+luncheon. She expresses the most ardent desire to meet you, and says she
+knows you will love each other. She carried off your picture t' other
+day, and I was in real terror till I got it back again. She seemed in
+ecstasy on being told you were living with your grandfather; but I saw a
+look she shot across to her husband as I told it, and I saw his reply by
+another glance that revealed to me how my tidings had caused surprise,
+and something more than surprise.
+
+"You must not set me down as fanciful or captious, dear Lucy; but the
+simple truth is, I have never had a quiet moment since I knew these
+people. They inspire me with the same sort of anxiety I have often felt
+when, in the course of my profession, some symptom has supervened in
+a case not very grave or startling in itself, but still such as I have
+always found heralding in very serious combinations. It is therefore the
+doctor as much as the father that takes alarm here.
+
+"It is just possible--mind, I say possible--that I am a little jealous
+of these Sewells, for they have already seduced from me my young friend
+Lionel, who was so kind to me on the voyage. I scarcely see him now, he
+is always with them; and yesterday I heard--it may not be true--that
+he is already weary of Cape Town, and means to return home by the next
+ship,--that is, along with the Sewells, who are to sail on Friday.
+
+"I am certain that Sewell is neither a good nor a safe companion for a
+young fellow so bashful and unsuspecting as Lionel Trafford.
+
+"There are men who read the world the way certain dishonest critics
+quote a book or an article, by extracting all that is objectionable,
+and, omitting context and connection, place passage after passage in
+quick sequence. By such a process as this, human life is a pandemonium.
+I half suspect Sewell to be one of this scornful school; and if so, a
+most dangerous intimate. The heartfelt racy enjoyment of his manner, as
+he records some trait of rascality or fraud, is not more marked than the
+contemptuous sneer with which he receives a story that bears testimony
+to generosity or trustfulness, throwing over his air in each that tone
+of knowledge of life and the world that seems to say, 'These are
+the things we all of us know well, though only a few have either the
+manliness or the honesty to declare them openly.'
+
+"I may have tired you with this long tirade, my dear Lucy, but I am
+pouring out to you my thoughts as they come,--come, too, out of the
+fulness of much reflection. Remember, too, my sweet child, that I have
+often told you, 'It is just some half-dozen people with whom we are
+intimate who make or mar our fate in life.' Big as the world is, we play
+a very small game in one corner of the board, and it behoves us to look
+well to those with whom we are to play it.
+
+"If I am jealous of the Sewells for having robbed me of my young friend,
+I am envious of himself also, for he is going back to England,--going
+back to the loved faces and scenes he has left,--going back to Home.
+There 's the word, Lucy, that gathers all that we come to live for, when
+life really is a blessing.
+
+"It would seem too early to pronounce, but I think I can already see
+this is not a place to which I would like to bring you; but I will not
+prejudge it. It may be that time will reconcile me to some things I
+now dislike; it may be, too, that the presence of my own around me will
+dispose me to take a cheerier view of much that now depresses me. I have
+a great deal to do; I am employed during the whole day, and never really
+free till evening, when society claims me. This latter is my only severe
+burden. You can imagine me daily dining out, and fancy the martyrdom it
+costs me.
+
+"I am most anxious to hear of you, and how you like your new life,--I
+mean how you bear it. Liking is not the word for that which entails
+separation. I feel assured that you will love my father. You will be
+generous towards those traits which the host of mere acquaintanceship
+took pleasure in exaggerating, and you will be fair enough not to
+misjudge his great qualities because of certain faults of temper. He has
+great gifts, Lucy; and as you will see, the two pendulums of his nature,
+heart and head, swing together, and he is as noble in sentiment as he is
+grand in action.
+
+"It almost consoles me for separation when I think that I have
+transferred to him the blessings of that presence that made my own
+sunshine. Mind that you send me a diary of your life. I want your whole
+day; I want to see how existence is filled, so that whenever my
+mind flies back to you I may say, 'She is in her garden,--she is
+working,--she is at her music,--she is reading to him.'
+
+"It was a mistake to send me here, Lucy. There are men in scores who
+would rejoice in the opportunities of such a place, and see in it
+the road to rapid fortune. I only look at one feature of it,--the
+banishment. Not that by nature I am discontented,--I hope and believe
+this is not so,--but I feel that there are many things in life far worse
+than poverty. I have not the same dread of narrow means most men have.
+I do not feel depressed in spirit when I lie beneath a very humble roof,
+and sit down to a coarse meal; nor has splendor the power to exhilarate
+or elevate me. I am essentially humble, and I need nothing that is not
+generally within the reach of the humble; and I vow to you in all truth,
+I 'd rather be your grandfather's gardener than be the governor of this
+great colony. There 's an ignoble confession, but keep it for yourself.
+
+"I have written a long letter to Tom by this post, and addressed it to
+Mr. Dempster, who will forward it if he should have left before this. It
+distresses me greatly when I think that I have not been able to give him
+any definite career in life before we parted. Mere aptitude has no value
+with the world. You may be willing and ready to do fifty things, but
+some fourth-rate fellow who _knows_ how to do one will beat you. The
+marketable quality in life is skill; the thing least in request is
+genius. Tom has this harsh lesson yet to learn, but learn it he must,
+for the world is a schoolmaster that will stand no skulking, and however
+little to our taste be its tasks, we must come up when called on, and go
+on with our lesson as well as we may.
+
+"In many respects Sir Brook Fossbrooke was an unfortunate companion
+for him to have chanced upon. A man of considerable resources, who has
+employed them all unprofitably, is a bad pilot. The very waywardness of
+such a nature was exactly the quality to be avoided in Tom's case; but
+what was to be done? Poverty can no more select its company than its
+climate; and it would have been worse than ungracious to have rejected a
+friendship so generously and freely offered.
+
+"I am curious--I am more than curious, I am anxious--to know if Tom
+should ever have met my father. They are so intensely alike in many
+things that I fear me their meeting could not lead to-good. I know well
+that Tom resents, and would like to show that he resents, what he
+deems the harsh treatment evinced towards me, and I dread anything
+like interchange of words between them. My whole hope is that you would
+prevent such a mischance, or, if it did occur, would take measures to
+obviate its dangers.
+
+"Tell me particularly about this when you write. Tell me also, have
+you met Lady Lendrick, and if so, on what terms? I have ever found her
+obliging and good-natured, and with many qualities which the world has
+not given her credit for. Give her my most respectful regards when you
+see her.
+
+"It is daybreak; the hot sun of Africa is already glancing into the
+room, and I must conclude. I cannot bear to think of the miles these
+lines must travel ere they meet you, but they will be with you at last,
+and they are in this more fortunate than your loving father,
+
+"T. Lendrick."
+
+Lucy sat long pondering over this letter. She read it too, again and
+again, and by a light which was certainly not vouchsafed to him who
+wrote it. To _her_ there was no mystery in Trafford's conduct. It
+was plain enough he had gone out, expecting to find her as his
+fellow-passenger. His despair--his wretchedness--his devotion to
+her father, the last resource of that disappointment he could not
+subdue--were all intelligible enough. Less easy, however, to read the
+sudden attachment he had formed for the Sewells. What did this mean? Had
+it any meaning; and if so, was it one that concerned her to know?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. OFFICIAL MYSTERIES
+
+"I think I had better see him myself," said Fossbrooke, after patiently
+listening to Tom Lendrick's account of his meeting with his grandfather.
+"It is possible I may be able to smooth down matters a little, and
+dispose the old gentleman, besides, to accord us some aid in our
+Sardinian project, for I have resolved upon that, Tom."
+
+"Indeed, sir; the gold-mine?"
+
+"No, the lead,--the lead and silver. In the rough calculation I made
+last night on this slip of paper, I see my way to something like seven
+thousand a year to begin with; untold wealth will follow. There are no
+less than eleven products available,--the black lead of pencils and the
+white used by painters being the chief; while in my new salt, which I
+am disposed to call the 'pyrochloride of plumbium,' we have a sedative
+that will allay the pangs of hydrophobia."
+
+"I wish it would quiet the Chief Baron," muttered Tom; and Sir Brook,
+not hearing him correctly, continued,--"I think so,--I think the Chief
+Baron eminently calculated to take a proper estimate of my discovery. A
+man of fine intellect is ever ready to accept truth, albeit it come in a
+shape and through a channel in which he has himself not pursued it. Will
+you write a line to your sister and ask if it would be his Lordship's
+convenience to receive me, and at what time?"
+
+"Of course, sir, whatever you wish," said Tom, in some confusion; "but
+might I ask if it be your intention to ask my grandfather to aid me with
+his purse?"
+
+"Naturally. I mean that he should, by advancing, let us say, eight
+hundred pounds, put you in a position to achieve a speedy fortune. He
+shall see, too, that our first care has been your sister's interests.
+Six-sixteenths of the profits for fifty years are to be hers; three each
+we reserve for ourselves; the remaining four will form a reserve fund
+for casualties, a capital for future development, and a sum at interest
+to pay superannuations, with some other objects that you will find
+roughly jotted down here, for which, however, they will amply suffice. I
+take it his Lordship knows something of metallurgy, Tom?" "I believe
+he knows a little of everything." "Chemistry I feel sure he must have
+studied." "I won't answer for the study; but you 'll find that when
+you come to talk with him, you 'll scarcely wander very far out of his
+geography. But I was going to say, sir, that I 'm not quite easy at the
+thought of asking him for money."
+
+"It's not money--at least, it's no gift--we require of him. We are in
+possession of a scheme certain to secure a fortune. We know where a
+treasure lies hid, and we want no more than the cost of the journey to
+go and fetch it. He shall be more than repaid. The very dispositions
+we make in your sister's favor will show him in what spirit we mean to
+deal. It is possible--I am willing to own it--it is possible I might
+approach a man of inferior intelligence with distrust and fear, but in
+coming before Baron Lendrick I have no misgivings. All my experience of
+life has shown me that the able men are the generous men. In the ample
+stretch of their minds they estimate mankind by larger averages, and
+thus they come to see that there is plenty of good in human nature."
+
+"I believe the old Judge is clever enough, and some speak very well
+of his character; but his temper--his temper is something that would
+swallow up all the fine qualities that ever were accorded to one man;
+and even if you were about to go on a mission I liked better, I 'd
+say, Don't ask to see him, don't expose yourself to the risk of some
+outrageous affront,--something you could n't bear and would n't resent."
+
+"I have never yet found myself in the predicament you speak of,"
+said Sir Brook, drawing himself up haughtily, "nor do I know of any
+contingency in life from which I could retreat on account of its perils.
+It may be, indeed it is, more than likely, from what you tell me, that
+I shall make no appeal to your grandfather's generosity; but I shall see
+him to tender your regrets for any pain you may have caused him, and to
+tell also so much of our future intentions as it is becoming the head
+of your house should hear. I also desire to see your sister, and say
+good-bye."
+
+"Ask her to let me do so too. I can't go away without seeing her again."
+Tom took a turn or two up and down the room as though he had not made up
+his mind whether to say something or not. He looked out of the window,
+possibly in search of something to distract his thoughts, and then
+turning suddenly about, he said: "I was thinking, sir, that if it was
+your opinion--mind, I don't want to insinuate that it ought to be, or
+even that it is my own--but that if you came to the conclusion that
+my sister was not happy with my grandfather--that her life was one of
+depression and suffering--what would you say to her coming along with
+us?"
+
+"To Sardinia! Coming to Sardinia, do you mean, Tom?" said the old man,
+in astonishment.
+
+"Yes, sir, that is what I meant."
+
+"Have I not told you the sort of life that lies before us in the
+island,--the hardships, the dangers, the bitter privations we shall
+have to endure? Is it to these we can invite a young girl, trained and
+accustomed to every elegance and every comfort?"
+
+"She 'd not shrink from her share,--that much I 'll warrant you; and the
+worst roughing of that rugged life would be easier to bear than this old
+man's humor."
+
+"No, no; it must not be thought of," said Fossbrooke, sternly. "What
+meaning has our enterprise if it be not to secure her future fortune?
+She cannot--she shall not--pay any part of the price. Let me think over
+this, Tom. It may be that we ought not to leave her; it may be that we
+should hit upon something nearer home. I will go up to the Castle and
+see the Viceroy."
+
+He made a light grimace as he said this. Such a visit was by no means to
+his taste. If there was anything totally repugnant to his nature, it was
+to approach men whom he had known as friends or intimates with anything
+like the request for a favor. It seemed to him to invert all the
+relations which ought to subsist between men in society. The moment
+you had stooped to such a step, in his estimation you had forfeited all
+right to that condition of equality which renders intercourse agreeable.
+
+"I must have something for this young fellow,--something that may enable
+him to offer his sister a home if she should need it. I will accept
+nothing for myself,--on that I am determined. It is a sorry part, that
+of suppliant, but so long as it is for another it is endurable. Not that
+I like it, though,--not that it sits easy on me,--and I am too old to
+acquire a new manner." Thus muttering to himself, he went along till he
+found himself at the chief entrance of the Castle.
+
+"You will have to wait on Mr. Balfour, sir, his Excellency's private
+secretary, the second door from the corner," said the porter, scarcely
+deigning a glance at one so evidently unversed in viceregal observances.
+Sir Brook nodded and withdrew. From a groom who was holding a
+neat-looking cob pony Fossbrooke learned that Mr. Balfour was about to
+take his morning's ride. "He'll not see you now," said the man. "You 'll
+have to come back about four or half-past."
+
+"I have only a question to ask," said Sir Brook, half to himself as he
+ascended the stairs. As he gained the landing and rang, the door opened
+and Mr. Balfour appeared. "I regret to detain you, sir," began Sir
+Brook, as he courteously raised his hat. "Mr. Balfour, I believe."
+
+"You are right as to my name, but quite as wrong if you fancy that you
+will detain me," said that plump and very self-satisfied gentleman, as
+he moved forward.
+
+"And yet, sir, such is my intention," said Sir Brook, placing himself
+directly in front of him.
+
+"That is a matter very soon settled," said Balfour, returning to the
+door and calling out, "Pollard, step down to the lower yard, and send a
+policeman here."
+
+Sir Brook heard the order unmoved in manner, and even made way for the
+servant to pass down the stairs. No sooner, however, was the man out
+of hearing than he said, "It would be much better, sir, not to render
+either of us ridiculous. I am Sir Brook Fossbrooke, and I come here to
+learn at what time it would be his Excellency's pleasure to receive me."
+
+The calm quiet dignity in which he spoke, even more than the words, had
+its effect on Balfour, who, with more awkwardness than he would like
+to have owned, asked Sir Brook to walk in and be seated. "I have had a
+message for you from his Excellency these three or four days back, and
+knew not where to find you."
+
+"Did it never occur to you to try what assistance the police might
+afford, sir?" said he, with deep gravity.
+
+"One thinks of these generally as a last resource," said Balfour,
+coolly, and possibly not sorry to show how imperturbable he could be
+under a sarcasm.
+
+"And now for the message, sir," said Fossbrooke.
+
+"I'll be shot if I remember it. Wasn't it something about an election
+riot? You thrashed a priest, named Malcahy, eh?"
+
+"I opine not, sir," said Sir Brook, with a faint smile.
+
+"No, no; you are the great man for acclimatization; you want to make the
+ornithorhynchus as common as the turkey. Am I right?"
+
+Sir Brook shook his head.
+
+"I never have my head clear out of office hours, that 's the fact," said
+Balfour, impatiently. "If you had called on me between twelve and three,
+you 'd have found me like a directory."
+
+"Put no strain upon your recollection, sir. When I see the Viceroy, it
+is probable he will repeat the message."
+
+"You know him, then?"
+
+"I have known him eight-and-forty years."
+
+"Oh, I have it,--I remember it all now. You used to be with Colonel
+Hanger and Hugh Seymour and O'Kelly and all the Carlton House lot."
+
+Fossbrooke bowed a cold assent.
+
+"His Excellency told us the other evening that there was not a man in
+England who had so many stories of the Prince. Didn't Moore go to you
+about his Life of Sheridan?--yes, of course,--and you promised him some
+very valuable documents; and sent him five-and-twenty protested bills of
+poor Brinsley's, labelled 'Indubitable Records.'"
+
+"This does not lead us to the message, sir," said Foss-brooke, stiffly.
+
+"Yes, but it does though,--I'm coming to it. I have a system of
+artificial memory, and I have just arrived at you now through Carlton
+House, milk-punch, and that story about Lord Grey and yourself riding
+postilions to Ascot, and you on the wheelers tipping up Grey with your
+whip till he grew frantic. Was n't that a fact?"
+
+"I wait for the message, sir; or rather I grow impatient at not hearing
+it."
+
+"I remember it perfectly. It's a place he wants to offer you; it's
+a something under the Courts of Law. You are to do next to
+nothing,--nothing at all, I believe, if you prefer it, as the last
+fellow did. He lived in Dresden for the education of his children, and
+he died there, and we did n't know when he died,--at least they suspect
+he signed some dozen life certificates that his doctor used to forward
+at quarter-day. Mind, I don't give you the story as mine; but the
+impression is that he held the office for eight years after his death."
+
+"Perhaps, sir, you would now favor me with the name and nature of the
+appointment."
+
+"He was called the Deputy-Assistant Sub-something of somewhere in the
+Exchequer; and he had to fill, or to register, or to put a seal, or, if
+not a seal, a stamp on some papers; but the marrow of the matter is, he
+had eight hundred a year for it; and when the Act passed requiring two
+seals, he asked for an increase of salary and an assistant clerk, and
+they gave him two hundred more, but they refused the clerk. They do such
+shabby things in those short sittings over the Estimates!"
+
+"And am I to understand that his Excellency makes me an offer of this
+appointment?"
+
+"Well, not exactly; there's a hitch in it,--I may say there are
+two hitches: first of all, we 're not sure it's in our gift; and,
+secondly--"
+
+"Perhaps I may spare you the secondly,--the firstly is more than enough
+for me."
+
+"Yes, but I'd like to explain. Here's how it is: the Chief Baron claimed
+the patronage about twenty years ago, and we made, or the people
+who were in power made, some sort of a compromise about an ultimate
+nomination, and he was to have the first. Now this man only died
+t' other day, having held the office, as I said, upwards of twenty
+years,--a most unconscionable thing,--just one of those selfish acts
+small official fellows are always doing; and so _I_ thought, as I saw
+your name down for something on his Excellency's list, that I 'd mention
+_you_ for the post as a sort of sop to Baron Lendrick, saying, 'Look
+at our man; we are not going to saddle the country with one of your
+long-annuity fellows,--_he_ 's eighty if he's a day.' I say, I 'd press
+this point, because the old Judge says he is no longer bound by
+the terms of the compromise, for that the office was abolished and
+reconstructed by the 58th of Victoria, and that he now insists on the
+undivided patronage."
+
+"I presume that the astute reasons which induced you to think of _me_
+have not been communicated to the Viceroy."
+
+"I should think not. I mention them to you frankly, because his
+Excellency said you were one of those men who must be dealt with openly.
+'Play on the square with Foss-brooke,' said he; 'and whether he win or
+lose, you 'll see no change in him. Try to overreach him, and you 'll
+catch a tiger.'"
+
+"I am very grateful for his kind estimate of me. It is, however, no more
+than I looked for at his hands." This he said with a marked feeling,
+and then added, in a lighter tone, "I have also a debt of gratitude
+to yourself, of which I know not how to acquit myself better than by
+accepting this appointment, and taking the earliest opportunity to die
+afterwards."
+
+"No, don't do that; I don't mean that. You can do like that fellow they
+made Pope because he looked on the verge of the grave, and who pitched
+his crutch into the air when he had put on the tiara."
+
+"I understand; so that it is only in Baron Lendrick's eyes I am to look
+short-lived."
+
+"Just so; call on him,--have a meeting with him; say that his Excellency
+desires to act with every delicacy towards him,--that should it be
+discovered hereafter the right of nomination lies with the Court and not
+with us, we 'll give him an equivalent somewhere else, till--till--"
+
+"Till I shall have vacated the post," chimed in Sir Brook, blandly; "a
+matter, of course, of very brief space."
+
+"You see the whole thing,--you see it in all its bearings; and now if
+you only could know something about the man you have to deal with, there
+would be nothing more to tell you."
+
+"I have heard about him passingly."
+
+"Oh, yes, his eccentricities are well known. The world is full of
+stories of him, but he is one of those men who play wolf on the
+species,--he must be worrying somebody to keep him from worrying
+himself; he smashed the last two Governments here, and he 'd have upset
+_us_ too if _I_ had n't been here. He hates _me_ cordially; and if you
+don't want to rouse his anger, don't let your lips murmur the name,
+Cholmondely Balfour."
+
+"You may rely upon me, sir," said Sir Brook, bowing. "I have scarcely
+ever met a gentleman whose name I am not more likely to recall than your
+own."
+
+"Sharp, that; did you mean it?" said Balfour, with his glass to his eye.
+
+"I am never ambiguous, sir, though it occasionally happens to me to say
+somewhat less than I feel. I wish you a good day."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. IN COURT.
+
+When the day arrived that the Chief Baron was to resume his place on
+the Bench, no small share of excitement was seen to prevail within the
+precincts of the Four Courts. Many opined that his recovery was far
+from perfect, and that it was not his intention ever to return to the
+justice-seat. Some maintained that the illness had been far less severe
+than was pretended, and that he had employed the attack as a means of
+pressure on the Government, to accord to his age and long services
+the coveted reward. Less argumentative partisans there were who were
+satisfied to wager that he would or would not reappear on the Bench, and
+bets were even laid that he would come for one last time, as though to
+show the world in what full vigor of mind and intellect was the man the
+Government desired to consign to inactivity and neglect.
+
+It is needless to say that he was no favorite with the Bar. There was
+scarcely a man, from the highest to the lowest, whom he had not on some
+occasion or another snubbed, ridiculed, or reprimanded. Whose law had he
+not controverted? Whose acuteness had he not exposed, whose rhetoric
+not made jest of? The mere presence of ability before him seemed to
+stimulate his combative spirit, and incite him to a passage at arms with
+one able to defend himself. No first-rate man could escape the shafts of
+his barbed and pointed wit; it was only dulness, hopeless dulness,
+that left his court with praise of his urbanity and an eulogy over his
+courteous demeanor.
+
+Now, hopeless dulness is not the characteristic of the Irish Bar, and
+with the majority the Chief Baron was the reverse of popular.
+
+No small tribute was it therefore to his intellectual superiority, to
+that mental power that all acknowledged while they dreaded, that his
+appearance was greeted with a murmur of approbation, which swelled
+louder and louder as he moved across the hall, till it burst out at
+last into a hoarse, full cheer of welcome. Mounting the steps with
+difficulty, the pale old man, seared with age and wrinkled with care,
+turned round towards the vast crowd, and with an eye of flashing
+brightness, and a heightened color, pressed his hand upon his heart,
+and bowed. A very slight motion it was,--less, far less, perhaps, than
+a sovereign might have accorded; but in its dignity and grace it was a
+perfect recognition of all the honor he felt had been done him.
+
+How broken! how aged! how fearfully changed! were the whispered remarks
+that were uttered around as he took his seat on the Bench, and more
+significant even than words were the looks interchanged when he
+attempted to speak, and instead of that clear metallic ring which once
+had been audible even outside the court, a faint murmuring sound was
+only heard.
+
+A few commonplace motions were made and discharged. A somewhat wearisome
+argument followed on a motion for a new trial, and the benches of the
+Bar gradually grew thinner and thinner, as the interest of the scene
+wore off, and as each in turn had scanned, and, after his own fashion,
+interpreted, the old Judge's powers of mind and body; when suddenly,
+and as it were without ostensible cause, the court began to fill,--bench
+after bench was occupied, till at last even all the standing-space was
+crowded; and when the massive curtain moved aside, vast numbers were
+seen without, eagerly trying to enter. At first the Chief Baron appeared
+not to notice the change, but his sharp eye no sooner detected it than
+he followed with his glance the directed gaze of the crowd, and saw
+it fixed on the gallery, opposite the jury-box, now occupied by a
+well-dressed company, in the midst of whom, conspicuous above all, sat
+Lady Lendrick. So well known were the relations that subsisted between
+himself and his wife, such publicity had been given to their hates and
+quarrels, that her presence here was regarded as a measure of shameless
+indelicacy. In the very defiant look, too, that she bestowed on the body
+of the court she seemed to accept the imputation, and to dare it.
+
+Leisurely and calmly did she scan the old man's features through her
+double eyeglass, while from time to time, with a simpering smile, she
+would whisper some words to the lady at her side,--words it was not
+needful to overhear, they were so palpably words of critical comment
+upon him she gazed at.
+
+So engrossed was attention by the indecency of this intrusion, which had
+not even the shallow pretext of an interesting cause to qualify it, that
+it was only after a considerable time it was perceived that the lady who
+sat next Lady Lendrick was exceedingly beautiful. If no longer in her
+first youth, there were traits of loveliness in her perfectly formed
+features which even years respect; and in the depth of her orbits and
+the sculptural elegance of her nostrils and her mouth, there was all
+that beauty we love to call Greek, but in which no classic model ever
+could compete with the daughters of England.
+
+Her complexion was of exceeding delicacy, as was the half-warm tint of
+her light-brown hair. But it was when she smiled that the captivation
+of her beauty became perfect; and it seemed as though each and all there
+appropriated that radiant favor to himself, and felt his heart bound
+with a sort of ecstasy. It had been rumored in the morning through the
+hall that the Chief Baron, at the rising of the Court, would deliver a
+short reply to the address of the Bar; and now, as the last motion was
+being disposed of, the appearance of eager expectation and curiosity
+became conspicuous on every side.
+
+That the unlooked-for presence of his wife had irritated and embarrassed
+the old man, was plain to the least observant. The stern expression of
+his features; the steadfast way in which he gazed into the body of
+the court, to avoid even a chance glance at the gallery; the fretful
+impatience with which he moved his hands restlessly amongst his
+papers,--all showed discomposure and uneasiness. Still, it was well
+known that the moment he was called on for a mental effort intellect
+ever assumed the mastery over temper, and all felt that when he should
+arise not a trace of embarrassment would remain to mar the calm dignity
+of his manner.
+
+It was amidst a hushed silence that he stood up, and said: "Mr. Chief
+Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar: I had intended to-day,--I had even
+brought down with me some notes of a reply which I purposed to make to
+the more than flattering address which you so graciously offered to me.
+I find, however, that I have overrated the strength that remains to
+me. I find I have measured my power to thank you by the depth of my
+gratitude, and not by the vigor of my frame. I am too weak to say all
+that I feel, and too deeply your debtor to ask you to accept less than I
+owe you. Had the testimony of esteem you presented to me only alluded to
+those gifts of mind and intellect with which a gracious Providence was
+pleased to endow me,--had you limited yourself to the recognition of the
+lawyer and the judge,--I might possibly have found strength to assure
+you that I accepted your praise with the consciousness that it was not
+all unmerited. The language of your address, however, went beyond this;
+your words were those of regard, even of affection. I am unused to such
+as these, gentlemen,--they unsettle--they unman me. Physicians tell us
+that the nerves of the student acquire a morbid and diseased acuteness
+for want of those habits of action and physical exertion which more
+vulgar organizations practise. So do I feel that the mental faculties
+gain an abnormal intensity in proportion as the affections are
+neglected, and the soil of the heart left untilled.
+
+"Mine have been worse than ignored," said he, with an elevated tone, and
+in a voice that rang through the court,--"they have been outraged; and
+when the time comes that biography will have to deal with my character
+and my fortunes, if there be but justice in the award, the summing-up
+will speak of me as one ever linked with a destiny that was beneath
+him. He was a lawyer,--he ought to have been a legislator. He sat on
+the Bench, while his place was the Cabinet; and when at the end of
+a laborious life his brethren rallied round him with homage and with
+tender regard, they found him like a long beleaguered city starved
+into submission, carrying a bold port towards the enemy, but torn by
+dissension within, and betrayed by the very garrison that should have
+died in its defence."
+
+The savage fierceness of these words turned every eye in the court to
+the gallery, where Lady Lendrick sat, and where, with a pleasant smile
+on her face, she not only listened with seeming pleasure, but beat time
+with her fan to the rhythm of the well-rounded periods.
+
+A quivering of the lip, and a strange flattening of the cheek of one
+side, succeeded to the effort with which he delivered these words, and
+when he attempted to speak again his voice failed him; and after a few
+attempts he placed his hand on his brow, and with a look of intense and
+most painful significancy, bowed around him to both sides of the court
+and retired.
+
+"That woman, that atrocious woman, has killed him," muttered poor Haire,
+as he hastened to the Judge's robing-room.
+
+"I am sorry, my dear, you should not have heard him in a better vein,
+for he is really eloquent at times," said Lady Lendrick to her beautiful
+companion, as they moved through the crowd to their carriage.
+
+"I trust his present excitement will not have bad consequences," said
+the other, softly. "Don't you think we ought to wait and ask how he is?"
+
+"If you like. I have only one objection, and that is, that we may be
+misconstrued. There are people here malicious enough to impute the worst
+of motives to our anxiety. Oh, here is Mr. Pemberton! Mr. Pemberton,
+will you do me the great favor to inquire how the Chief Baron is? Would
+you do more, and say that I am most eager to know if I could be of any
+use to him?"
+
+If Mr. Pemberton had no fancy for his mission, he could not very well
+decline it. While he was absent, the ladies took a turn through the
+hall, inspecting the two or three statues of distinguished lawyers, and
+scanning the living faces, whose bewigged expression seemed to blend the
+over-wise and the ridiculous in the strangest imaginable manner.
+
+A sudden movement in the crowd betokened some event; and now, through a
+lane formed in the dense mass, the Chief Baron was seen approaching.
+He had divested himself of his robes, and looked the younger for the
+change. Indeed, there was an almost lightness in his step, as he
+came forward, and with a bland smile said: "I am most sensible of the
+courtesy that led you here. I only wish my strength had been more
+equal to the occasion." And he took Lady Lendrick's hand with a mingled
+deference and regard.
+
+"Sir William, this is my daughter-in-law. She only arrived yesterday,
+but was determined not to lose the opportunity of hearing you."
+
+[Illustration: 178]
+
+"To have _heard_ me to-day was disappointment," said the old man, as
+he raised the young lady's hand to his lips; "to see her is none. I am
+charmed to meet one so closely tied to me,--of such exquisite beauty.
+Ah, Madam! it's a dear-bought privilege, this candid appreciation of
+loveliness we old men indulge in. May I offer you my arm?"
+
+And now through the dense crowd they passed along,--all surprised and
+amazed at the courteous attentions of the old Judge, whom but a few
+moments before they had seen almost convulsed with passion.
+
+"She almost had won the game, Haire," said the Chief Baron, as, having
+handed the ladies to their carriage, he went in search of his own. "But
+I have mated her. My sarcasm has never given me one victory with
+that woman," said he, sternly. "I have never conquered her except by
+courtesy."
+
+"Why did she come down to court at all?" blurted out Haire; "it was
+positively indecent."
+
+"The Spanish women go to bull-fights, but I never heard that they
+stepped down into, the arena. She has great courage,--very great
+courage."
+
+"Who was the handsome woman with her?"
+
+"Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Sewell. Now, that is what I call beauty,
+Haire. There is the element which is denied to us men,--to subdue
+without effort, to conquer without conflict."
+
+"Your granddaughter is handsomer, to my thinking."
+
+"They are like each other,--strangely like. They have the same dimpling
+of the cheek before they smile, and her laugh has the same ring as
+Lucy's."
+
+Haire muttered something, not very intelligibly, indeed, but certainly
+not sounding like assent.
+
+"Lady Lendrick had asked me to take these Sewells in at the Priory, and
+I refused her. Perhaps I 'd have been less peremptory had I seen this
+beauty. Yes, sir! There is a form of loveliness--this woman has it--as
+distinctly an influence as intellectual superiority, or great rank,
+or great riches. To deny its power you must live out of the world, and
+reject all the ordinances of society."
+
+"Coquettes, I suppose, have their followers; but I don't think you or I
+need be of the number."
+
+"You speak with your accustomed acuteness, Haire; but coquetry is the
+exercise of many gifts, beauty is the display of one. I can parry off
+the one; I cannot help feeling the burning rays of the other. Come,
+come, don't sulk; I am not going to undervalue your favorite Lucy. They
+have promised to dine with me on Sunday; you must meet them."
+
+"Dine with you!--dine with you, after what you said today in open
+court!"
+
+"That I could invite them, and they accept my invitation, is the best
+reply to those who would, in their malevolence, misinterpret whatever
+may have fallen from me. The wound of a sharp arrow is never very
+painful till some inexpert bungler endeavors to withdraw the weapon. It
+is then that agony becomes excruciating, and peril imminent."
+
+"I suppose I am the bungler, then?"
+
+"Heaven forbid I should say so! but as I have often warned you, Haire,
+your turn for sarcasm is too strong for even your good sense. When you
+have shotted your gun with a good joke, you will make a bull's eye of
+your best friend."
+
+"By George, then, I don't know myself, that's all; and I could as easily
+imagine myself a rich man as a witty one."
+
+"You are rich in gifts more precious than money; and you have the
+quintessence of all wit in that property that renders you suggestive;
+it is like what chemists call latent heat. But to return to Mrs. Sewell:
+she met my son at the Cape, and reports favorably of his health and
+prospects."
+
+"Poor fellow! what a banishment he must feel it!"
+
+"I wonder, sir, how many of us go through life without sacrifices! She
+says that he goes much into the world, and is already very popular in
+the society of the place,--a great and happy change to a man who
+had suffered his indolence and self-indulgence to master him. Had he
+remained at home, I might have been able to provide for him. George
+Ogle's place is vacant, and I am determined to exercise my right of
+appointment."
+
+"First Registrar, was he not?"
+
+"Yes; a snug berth for incapacity,--one thousand a year. Ogle made
+more of it by means we shall not inquire into, but which shall not be
+repeated."
+
+"You ought to give it to your grandson," said Haire, bluntly.
+
+"You ought to know better than to say so, sir," said the Judge, with a
+stern severity. "It is to men like myself the public look for example
+and direction, and it would be to falsify all the teaching of my life if
+I were to misuse my patronage. Come up early on Saturday morning, and
+go over the lists with me. There are one hundred and twenty-three
+applicants, backed by peers, bishops, members of Parliament, and men in
+power."
+
+"I don't envy you your patronage."
+
+"Of course not, sir. The one hundred and twenty-two disappointed
+candidates would present more terror to a mind like yours than any
+consciousness of a duty fulfilled would compensate for; but I am
+fashioned of other stuff."
+
+"Well, I only hope it may be a worthy fellow gets it."
+
+"If you mean worthy in what regards a devotion to the public service, I
+may possibly be able to assure you on that head."
+
+"No, no; I mean a good fellow,--a true-hearted, honest fellow, to whom
+the salary will be a means of comfort and happiness."
+
+"Sir, you ask far too much. Men in my station investigate fitness and
+capacity; they cannot descend to inquire how far the domestic virtues
+influence those whom they advance to office."
+
+"You may drop me here: I am near home," said Haire, who began to feel a
+little weary of being lectured.
+
+"You will not dine with me?"
+
+"Not to-day. I have some business this evening. I have a case to look
+over."
+
+"Come up on Saturday, then,--come to breakfast; bring me any newspapers
+that treat of the appointment, and let us see if we cannot oppose this
+spirit of dictation they are so prone to assume; for I am resolved I
+will never name a man to office who has the Press for his patron."
+
+"It may not be his fault."
+
+"It shall be his misfortune, then. Stop, Drab; Mr. Haire wishes to get
+down. To the Priory," said he, as his friend went his way; and now,
+leaning back in his carriage, the old man continued to talk aloud, and,
+addressing an imaginary audience, declaim against the encroaching
+spirit of the newspapers, and inveigh against the perils to which their
+irresponsible counsels exposed the whole framework of society; and thus
+speaking, and passionately gesticulating, he reached his home.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A MORNING CALL.
+
+As Sir William waited breakfast for Haire on Saturday morning, a car
+drove up to the door, and the butler soon afterwards entered with a card
+and a letter. The card bore the name "Sir Brook Fossbrooke," and the
+letter was sealed with the viceregal arms, and had the name "Wilmington"
+on the corner. Sir William broke it open, and read,--
+
+"My dear Chief Baron,--This will come to your hand through Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, one of my oldest and choicest friends. He tells me
+he desires to know you, and I am not aware of any more natural or
+legitimate ambition. It would be presumption in me to direct your
+attention to qualities you will be more quick to discover and more able
+to appreciate than myself. I would only add that your estimate will,
+I feel assured, be not less favorable that it will be formed of one
+of whose friendship I am proud. It may be that his visit to you will
+include a matter of business; if so, give it your courteous attention:
+and believe me ever, my dear Chief Baron, your faithful friend,
+
+"Wilmington."
+
+"Show the gentleman in," said the Judge; and he advanced towards the
+door as Sir Brook entered. "I am proud to make your acquaintance, Sir
+Brook," said he, presenting his hand.
+
+"I would not have presumed to call on you at such an hour, my Lord Chief
+Baron, save that my minutes are numbered. I must leave for England this
+evening; and I wished, if possible, to meet you before I started."
+
+"You will, I hope, join me at breakfast?"
+
+"I breakfasted two hours ago,--if I dare to dignify by the name my meal
+of bread and milk. But, pray, let me not keep you from yours,--that is,
+if you will permit me to speak to you while so occupied."
+
+"I am at your orders, sir," said the old Judge, as he seated himself and
+requested his visitor to sit beside him.
+
+"His Excellency tells me, my Lord, that there is just now vacant a
+situation of which some doubt exists as to the patron,--a Registrarship,
+I think he called it, in your Court?"
+
+"There is no doubt whatever, sir. The patronage is mine."
+
+"I merely quote the Viceroy, my Lord,--I assert nothing of myself."
+
+"It may not impossibly save time, sir, when I repeat that his Excellency
+has misinformed you. The office is in my gift."
+
+"May I finish the communication with which he charged me?"
+
+"Sir, there is no case before the court," said the Judge. "I can
+hear you, as a matter of courtesy; but it cannot be your object to be
+listened to on such terms?"
+
+"I will accept even so little. If it should prove that the view taken by
+his Excellency is the correct one--pray, sir, let me proceed--"
+
+"I cannot; I have no temper for a baseless hypothesis. I will not,
+besides, abuse your time any more than my own forbearance; and I
+therefore say that if any portion of your interest in making my
+acquaintance concerns that question you have so promptly broached, the
+minutes employed in the discussion would be thrown away by us both."
+
+"Mr. Haire," said the servant, at this moment; and the Chief Baron's old
+friend entered, rather heated by his walk.
+
+"You are late by half an hour, Haire; let me present you to Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, whose acquaintance I am now honored in making. Sir Brook
+is under a delusive impression, Haire, which I told you a few days ago
+would demand some decisive step on my part; he thinks that the vacant
+registrarship is at the disposal of the Crown."
+
+"I ask pardon," said Fossbrooke. "As I understood his Excellency, they
+only claim the alternate appointment."
+
+"And they shall not assert even that, sir."
+
+"Sir William's case is strong,--it is irrefutable. I have gone over it
+myself," broke in Haire.
+
+"There, sir! listen to that. You have now wherewithal to go back and
+tell the Viceroy that the opinion of the leading man of the Irish Bar
+has decided against his claim. Tell him, sir, that accident timed your
+visit here at the same moment with my distinguished friend's, and that
+you in this way obtained a spontaneous decision on the matter at issue.
+When you couple with that judgment the name of William Haire, you will
+have said enough."
+
+"I bow to this great authority," said Sir Brook, with deep courtesy,
+"and accepting your Lordship's statement to the fullest, I would only
+add, that as it was his Excellency's desire to have named me to this
+office, might I so far presume, on the loss of the good fortune that I
+had looked for, to approach you with a request, only premising that it
+is not on my own behalf?"
+
+"I own, sir, that I do not clearly appreciate the title to your claim.
+You are familiar with the turf, Sir Brook, and you know that it is only
+the second horse has a right to demand his entry."
+
+"I have not been beaten, my Lord. You have scratched my name and
+prevented my running."
+
+"Let us come back to fact, sir," said the Chief Baron, not pleased with
+the retort. "How can you base any right to approach me with a request on
+the circumstance that his Excellency desired to give you what belonged
+to another?"
+
+"Yes, that puts it forcibly--unanswerably--to my thinking," said Haire.
+
+"I may condole with disappointment, sir, but I am not bound to
+compensate defeat," said the old Judge; and he arose and walked the room
+with that irritable look and manner which even the faintest opposition
+to him often evoked, and for which even the utterance of a flippant
+rebuke but partly compensated him.
+
+"I take it, my Lord Chief Baron," said Fossbrooke, calmly, "that I
+have neither asked for condolence nor compensation. I told you, I hoped
+distinctly that what I was about to urge was not on my own behalf."
+
+"Well, sir, and I think the plea is only the less sustainable. The
+Viceroy's letter might give a pretext for the one; there is nothing in
+our acquaintance would warrant the other."
+
+"If you knew, sir, how determined I am not to take offence at words
+which certainly imperil patience, you would possibly spare me some
+of these asperities. I am in close relations of friendship with your
+grandson; he is at present living with me; I have pledged myself to his
+father to do my utmost in securing him some honorable livelihood, and
+it is in his behalf that I have presented myself before you to-day. Will
+you graciously accord me a hearing on this ground?"
+
+There was a quiet dignity of manner in which he said this, a total
+forgetfulness of self, and a manly simplicity of purpose so palpable,
+that the old Judge felt he was in presence of one whose character called
+for all his respect; at the same time he was not one to be suddenly
+carried away by a sentiment, and in a very measured voice he replied,
+"If I 'm flattered, sir, by the interest you take in a member of my
+family, I am still susceptible of a certain displeasure that it should
+be a stranger should stand before me to ask me for any favor to my own."
+
+"I am aware, my Lord Chief Baron, that my position is a false one, but
+so is your own."
+
+"Mine, sir! mine? What do you mean? Explain yourself."
+
+"If your Lordship's interest had been exerted as it might have been,
+Dr. Lendrick's son would never have needed so humble a friend as he has
+found in me."
+
+"And have you come here, sir, to lecture me on my duty to my family?
+Have you presented yourself under the formality of a viceregal letter
+of introduction to tell a perfect stranger to you how he should have
+demeaned himself to his own?"
+
+"Probably I might retort, and ask by what right you lecture me on my
+manners and behavior? But I am willing to be taught by so consummate a
+master of everything; and though I was once a courtier, I believe that
+I have much to learn on the score of breeding. And now, my Lord, let us
+leave this unpromising theme, and come to one which has more interest
+for each of us. If this registrarship, this place, whatever it be, would
+be one to suit your grandson, will the withdrawal of _my_ claim serve
+to induce your Lordship to support _his?_ In one word, my Lord, will you
+let him have the appointment?"
+
+"I distinctly refuse, sir," said the Judge, waving his hand with an air
+of dignity. "Of the young gentleman for whom you intercede I know but
+little; but there are two disqualifications against him, more than
+enough, either of them, to outweigh your advocacy."
+
+"May I learn them?" asked Sir Brook, meekly.
+
+"You shall, sir. He carries my name without its prestige; he inherits
+_my_ temper, but not my intellect." The blood rushed to his face as he
+spoke, and his chest swelled, and his whole bearing bespoke the fierce
+pride that animated him; when suddenly, as it were, recollecting
+himself, he added: "I am not wont to give way thus, sir. It is only in
+a moment of forgetfulness that I could have obtruded a personal
+consideration into a question of another kind. My friend here will tell
+you if it has been the habit of my life to pension my family on the
+public."
+
+"Having failed in one object of my coming, let me hope for better
+success in another. May I convey to your Lordship your grandson's regret
+for having offended you? It has caused him sincere sorrow and much
+self-reproach. May I return with the good tidings of your forgiveness?"
+
+"The habits of my order are opposed to rash judgments, and consequently
+to hasty reversions. I will consider the case, and let you hear my
+opinion upon it."
+
+"I think that is about as much as you will do with him," muttered Haire
+in Sir Brook's ear, and with a significant gesture towards the door.
+
+"Before taking my leave, my Lord, would it be too great a liberty if I
+beg to present my personal respects to Miss Lendrick?"
+
+"I will inform her of your wish, sir," said the Judge, rising, and
+ringing the bell. After a pause of some minutes, in which a perfect
+silence was maintained by all, the servant returned to say, "Miss
+Lendrick would be happy to see Sir Brook."
+
+"I hope, sir," said the Chief Baron, as he accompanied him to the door,
+"I have no need to request that no portion of what has passed here
+to-day be repeated to my granddaughter."
+
+A haughty bow of assent was all the reply.
+
+"I make my advances to her heart," said the Judge, with a tone of more
+feeling in his voice, "through many difficulties. Let these not be
+increased to me,--let her not think me unmindful of my own."
+
+"Give her no reason to think so, my Lord, and you may feel very
+indifferent to the chance words of a passing acquaintance."
+
+"For the third time to-day, sir, have you dared to sit in judgment over
+my behavior to my family. You cannot plead want of experience of life,
+or want of converse with men, to excuse this audacity. I must regard
+your intrusion, therefore, as a settled project to insult me. I accept
+no apologies, sir," said the old man, with a haughty wave of his hand,
+while his eyes glittered with passion. "I only ask, and I hope I ask as
+a right, that I may not be outraged under my own roof. Take your next
+opportunity to offend me when I may not be hampered by the character
+of your host. Come down into the open arena, and see how proud you will
+feel at the issue of the encounter." He rang the bell violently as he
+spoke, and continued to ring it till the servant came.
+
+"Accompany this gentleman to the gate," said he to the man.
+
+Not a change came over Sir Brook's face during the delivery of this
+speech; and as he bowed reverentially and withdrew, his manner was all
+that courtesy could desire.
+
+"I see he's not going to visit Lucy," muttered Haire, as Sir Brook
+passed the window.
+
+"I should think not, sir. There are few men would like to linger where
+they have been so ingloriously defeated." He walked the room with a
+proud defiant look for some minutes, and then, sinking faintly into a
+chair, said, in a weak, tremulous tone, "Haire, these trials are too
+much for me. It is a cruel aggravation of the ills of old age to have a
+heart and a brain alive to the finest sense of injury."
+
+Haire muttered something like concurrence.
+
+"What is it you say, sir? Speak out," cried the Judge.
+
+"I was saying," muttered the other, "I wish they would not
+provoke--would not irritate you; that people ought to see the state your
+nerves are in, and should use a little discretion how they contradict
+and oppose you." The bland smile of the Chief-Justice, and an assenting
+gesture of his hand, emboldened Haire to continue, and he went on: "I
+have always said, Keep away such as excite him; his condition is not one
+to be bettered by passionate outbreaks. Calm him, humor him."
+
+"What a pearl above price is a friend endowed with discretion! Leave me,
+Haire, to think over your nice words. I would like to ponder them alone
+and to myself. I 'll send for you by and by."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. COMING-HOME THOUGHTS
+
+Had a mere stranger been a guest on that Sunday when the Chief
+Baron entertained at dinner Lady Lendrick, the Sewells, and his old
+schoolfellow Haire, he might have gone away under the impression that he
+had passed an evening in the midst of a happy and united family.
+
+Nothing could be more perfect than the blending of courtesy and
+familiarity. The old Chief himself was in his best of humors, which
+means that, with the high polish of a past age, its deference, and its
+homage, he combined all the readiness and epigrammatic smartness of a
+later period. Lady Lendrick was bland, courteous, and attentive. Colonel
+Sewell took the part assigned him by his host, alternate talker and
+listener; and Mrs. Sewell herself displayed, with true woman's wit, that
+she knew how to fall in with the Judge's humor, as though she had known
+him for years, and that, in each sally of his wit and each flash of
+his repartee he was but reviving memories of such displays in long-past
+years. As for Haire, no enchantment could be more complete; he found
+himself not only listened to but appealed to. The Chief asked him to
+correct him about some fact or other of recent history; he applied
+to him to relate some incident in a trial he had taken part in; and,
+greatest triumph of all, he was called on to decide some question about
+the dressing of Mrs. Sewell's hair, his award being accepted as the last
+judgment of connoisseurship.
+
+Lucy talked little, but seemed interested by all around her. It was
+a bit of high-life comedy, really amusing, and she had that mere
+suspicion--it was no more--of the honesty and loyalty of the talkers
+to give an added significance to all she saw and heard. This slight
+distrust, however, gave way, when Mrs. Sewell sat down beside her in the
+drawing-room, and talked to her of her father. Oh, how well she appeared
+to know him; how truly she read the guileless simplicity of his noble
+nature; how she distinguished--it was not all who did so--between his
+timid reserve and pride; how she saw that what savored of haughtiness
+was in reality an excess of humility shrouding itself from notice; how
+she dwelt on his love for children, and the instantaneous affection
+he inspired in them towards himself. Last of all, how she won the poor
+girl's heart as she said, "It will never do to leave him there, Lucy; we
+must have him here, at home with us. I think you may intrust it to me; I
+generally find my way in these sort of things."
+
+Lucy could have fallen at her feet with gratitude as she heard these
+words, and she pressed her hand to her lips and kissed it fervently.
+"Why isn't your brother here? Is he not in Dublin?" asked Mrs. Sewell,
+suddenly.
+
+"Yes, he is in town," stammered out Lucy, "but grandpapa scarcely knows
+him, and when they did meet, it was most unfortunate. I 'll tell you all
+about it another time."
+
+"We have many confidences to make each other," said Mrs. Sewell, with
+a sigh so full of sorrow that Lucy instinctively pressed her hand with
+warmth, as though to imply her trustfulness would, not be ill deposited.
+
+At last came the hour of leave-taking, and the Judge accompanied his
+guests to the door, and even bareheaded handed Lady Lendrick to her
+carriage. To each, as they said "Good-night," he had some little
+appropriate speech,--a word or two of gracious compliment, uttered with
+all his courtesy.
+
+"I call this little dinner a success, Lucy," said he, as he stood to say
+"Good-night" on the stairs. "Lady Lendrick was unusually amiable, and
+her daughter-in-law is beyond praise."
+
+"She is indeed charming," said Lucy, fervently.
+
+"I found the Colonel also agreeable,--less dictatorial than men of
+his class generally are. I suspect we shall get on well together with
+further acquaintance; but, as Haire said, I was myself to-night, and
+would have struck sparks out of the dullest rock, so that I must not
+impute to him what may only have been the reflex of myself. Ah, dear!
+there was a time when these exertions were the healthful stimulants
+of my life; now they only weary and excite,--good-night, dear child,
+good-night."
+
+As Lady Lendrick and her party drove homeward, not a word was uttered
+for some minutes after they had taken their seats. It was not till after
+they had passed out of the grounds, and gained the high-road, that she
+herself broke silence. "Well, Dudley," said she at last, "is he like my
+description? Was my portrait too highly colored?"
+
+"Quite the reverse. It was a faint weak sketch of the great original.
+In all my life I never met such inordinate vanity and such overweening
+pretension. I give him the palm as the most conceited man and the
+greatest bore in Christendom."
+
+"Do you wonder now if I could n't live with him?" asked she, half
+triumphantly.
+
+"I 'll not go that far. I think I could live with him if I saw my way to
+any advantage by it."
+
+"I'm certain you could not! The very things you now reprobate are the
+few endurable traits about him. It is in the resources of his intense
+conceit he finds whatever renders him pleasant and agreeable. I wish you
+saw his other humor."
+
+"I can imagine it may not be all that one would desire; but still--"
+
+"It comes well from you to talk of submitting and yielding," burst out
+Lady Lendrick. "I certainly have not yet detected these traits in your
+character; and I tell you frankly, you and Sir William could not live a
+week under the same roof together. Don't you agree with me, Lucy?"
+
+"What should she know about it?" said he, fiercely; and before she could
+reply, "I don't suspect she knows a great deal about me,--she knows
+nothing at all about _him_."
+
+"Well, would you like to live with him yourself, Lucy?" asked Lady
+Lendrick.
+
+"I don't say I 'd _like_ it, but I think it might be done," said she,
+faintly, and scarcely raising her eyes as she spoke.
+
+"Of course, then, my intractable temper is the cause of all our
+incompatibility; my only consolation is that I have a son and a
+daughter-in-law so charmingly endowed that their virtues are more than
+enough to outweigh my faults."
+
+"What I say is this," said the Colonel, sternly,--"I think the man is a
+bore or a bully, but that he need n't be both if one does n't like
+it. Now I 'd consent to be bored, to escape being bullied, which is
+precisely the reverse of what you appear to have done."
+
+"I am charmed with the perspicuity you display. I hope, Lucy, that it
+tends to the happiness of your married life to have a husband so well
+able to read character."
+
+Apparently this was a double-headed shot, for neither spoke for several
+minutes.
+
+"I declare I almost wish he would put you to the test," said Lady
+Lendrick. "I mean, I wish he'd ask you to the Priory."
+
+"I fancy it is what he means to do," said Mrs. Sewell, in the same
+low tone,--"at least he came to me when I was standing in the small
+drawing-room, and said, 'How would you endure the quiet stillness and
+uniformity of such a life as I lead here? Would its dulness overpower
+you?'"
+
+"Of course, you said it would be paradise," broke in her Ladyship; "you
+hinted all about your own resources, and such-like."
+
+"She did no such thing; she took the pathetic line, put her handkerchief
+to her eyes, and implied how she would love it, as a refuge from the
+cruel treatment of a bad husband,--eh, am I right?" Harsh and insolent
+as the words were, the accents in which they were uttered were far more
+so. "Out with it, Madam! was it not something like that you said?"
+
+"No," said she, gently. "I told Sir William I was supremely happy,
+blessed in every accident and every relation of my life, and that
+hitherto I had never seen the spot which could not suit the glad temper
+of my heart."
+
+"You keep the glad temper confoundedly to yourself then," burst he out.
+"I wish you were not such a niggard of it."
+
+"Dudley, Dudley, I say," cried Lady Lendrick, in a tone of reproof.
+
+"I have learned not to mind these amenities," said Mrs. Sewell, in a
+quiet voice, "and I am only surprised that Colonel Sewell thinks it
+worth while to continue them."
+
+"If it be your intention to become Sir William's guest, I must say such
+habits will require to be amended," said her Ladyship, gravely.
+
+"So they shall, mother. Your accomplished and amiable husband, as you
+once called him in a letter to me, shall only see us in our turtle
+moods, and never be suffered to approach our cage save when we are
+billing and cooing."
+
+The look of aversion he threw at his wife as he spoke was something
+that words cannot convey; and though she never raised eyes to meet it, a
+sickly pallor crept over her cheek as the blight fell on her.
+
+"I am to call on him to-morrow, by appointment. I wish he had not said
+twelve. One has not had his coffee by twelve; but as he said, 'I hope
+that will not be too early for you,' I felt it better policy to reply,
+'By no means;' and so I must start as if for a journey."
+
+"What does he mean by asking you to come at that hour? Have you any
+notion what his business is?"
+
+"Not the least. We were in the hall. I was putting on my coat, when he
+suddenly turned round and asked me if I could without inconvenience drop
+in about twelve."
+
+"I wonder what it can be for."
+
+"I'll tell you what I hope it may not be for! I hope it may not be to
+show me his conservatory, or his Horatian garden, as he pedantically
+called it, or his fish-ponds. If so, I think I 'll invite him some
+fine morning to turn over all my protested bills, and the various writs
+issued against me. Bore for Bore, I suspect we shall come out of the
+encounter pretty equal."
+
+"He has some rare gems. I'd not wonder if it was to get you to select a
+present for Lucy."
+
+"If I thought so, I'd take a jeweller with me, as though my friend, to
+give me a hint as to the value."
+
+"He admires you greatly, Lucy; he told me so as he took me downstairs."
+
+"She has immense success with men of that age: nothing over eighty seems
+able to resist her."
+
+This time she raised her eyes, and they met his, not with their former
+expression, but full of defiance, and of an insolent meaning, so that
+after a moment he turned away his gaze, and with a seeming struggle
+looked abashed and ashamed. "The first change I will ask you to make in
+that house," said Lady Lendrick, who had noticed this by-play, "if ever
+you become its inmates, will be to dismiss that tiresome old hanger-on,
+Mr. Haire. I abhor him."
+
+"My first reform will be in the sherry,--to get rid of that vile sugary
+compound of horrid nastiness he gives you After soup. The next will be
+the long-tailed black coach-horses. I don't think a man need celebrate
+his own funeral every time he goes out for a drive."
+
+"Haire," resumed Lady Lendrick, in a tone of severity, meant, perhaps,
+to repress all banter on a serious subject,--"Haire not only supplies
+food to his vanity, but stimulates his conceit by little daily stories
+of what the world says of him. I wish he would listen to _me_ on that
+subject,--I wish he would take _my_ version of his place in popular
+estimation."
+
+"I opine that the granddaughter should be got rid of," said the Colonel.
+
+"She is a fool,--only a fool," said Lady Lendrick.
+
+"I don't think her a fool," said Mrs. Sewell, slowly.
+
+"I don't exactly mean so much; but that she has no knowledge of life,
+and knows nothing whatever of the position she is placed in, nor how to
+profit by it."
+
+"I'd not even go that far," said Mrs. Sewell, in the same quiet tone.
+
+"Don't pay too much attention to _that_," said the Colonel to his
+mother. "It's one of her ways always to see something in every one that
+nobody else has discovered."
+
+"I made that mistake once too often for my own welfare," said she, in a
+voice only audible to his ear.
+
+"She tells me, mother, that she made that same mistake once too often
+for her own welfare; which being interpreted, means in taking me for her
+husband,--a civil speech to make a man in presence of his mother."
+
+"I begin to think that politeness is not the quality any of us are eager
+about," said Lady Lendrick; "and I must say I am not at all sorry that
+the drive is over."
+
+"If I had been permitted to smoke, you'd not have been distressed by any
+conversational excesses on my part," said the Colonel.
+
+"I shall know better another time, Dudley; and possibly-it would be
+as well to be suffocated with tobacco as half-choked with anger. Thank
+heaven we are at the door!"
+
+"May I take your horses as far as the Club?" asked Sewell, as he handed
+her out.
+
+"Yes, but not to wait. You kept them on Tuesday night till past four
+o'clock."
+
+"On second thought, I'll walk," said he, turning away. "Good-night;"
+and leaving his wife to be assisted down the steps by the footman, he
+lighted his cigar, and walked away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING
+
+The little lodging occupied by Sir Brook and young Lendrick was in a
+not very distinguished suburb near Cullen's Wood. It was in a small
+one-storied cottage, whose rickety gate bore the inscription "Avoca
+Villa" on a black board, under which, in the form of permanence that
+indicated frequent changes of domicile, were the words, "Furnished
+Apartments, and Board if required." A small enclosure, with three
+hollyhocks in a raised mound in the centre, and a luxurious crop of
+nettles around, served as garden: a narrow path of very rough shingle
+conducted to the door.
+
+The rooms within were very small, low, and meanly furnished; they
+bespoke both poverty and neglect; and while the broken windows,
+the cobwebbed ceiling, and the unwashed floor all indicated that no
+attention was bestowed on comfort or even decency, over the fireplace,
+in a large black frame, was a painting representing the genealogical
+tree of the house of the proprietor, Daniel O'Reardon, Esquire, the
+lineal descendant of Frenok-Dhubh-na-Bochlish O'Reardon, who was King of
+West Carbarry, a.d. 703, and who, though at present only a doorkeeper in
+H. M. Court of Exchequer, had royal blood in his veins, and very kingly
+thoughts in his head.
+
+If a cruel destiny compelled Mr. O'Reardon to serve the Saxon, he "took
+it out" in a most hearty hatred of his patron. He denounced him when he
+talked, and he reviled him when he sang. He treasured up paragraphs of
+all the atrocities of the English press, and he revelled in the severe
+strictures which the Irish papers bestowed on them. So far as hating
+went, he was a true patriot.
+
+If some people opined that Mr. O'Reardon's political opinions rather
+partook of what was in vogue some sixty-odd years ago than what
+characterized a time nearer our own day, there were others, less
+generous critics, who scrupled not to say that he was a paid spy of the
+Government, and that all the secret organization of treason--all the
+mysterious plotting of rebellion that seems never to die completely
+out in Ireland--were known to and reported by this man to the Castle.
+Certain it was that he lived in a way his humble salary at the Four
+Courts could not have met, and indulged in convivial excesses far beyond
+the reach of his small income.
+
+When Sir Brook and Tom Lendrick became his lodgers, he speedily saw that
+they belonged to a class far above what usually resorted to his humble
+house. However studiously simple they might be in all their demands,
+they were unmistakably gentlemen; and this fact, coupled with their
+evident want of all employment or occupation, considerably puzzled Mr.
+O'Reardon, and set him a-thinking what they could be, who they were,
+and, as he phrased it, "what they were at." No letters came for them,
+nor, as they themselves gave no names, was there any means of tracing
+their address; and to his oft-insinuated request, "If any one asks
+for you, sir, by what name will I be able to answer?" came the same
+invariable "No one will call;" and thus was Mr. O'Reardon reduced
+to designate them to his wife as the "old chap" and the "young
+one,"--titles which Sir Brook and Tom more than once overheard through
+the frail partitions of the ill-built house.
+
+It is not impossible that O'Reardon's peculiar habits and line of life
+disposed him to attach a greater significance to the seeming mystery
+that surrounded his lodgers than others might have ascribed; it is
+probable that custom had led him to suspect everything that was in any
+way suspicious. These men draw many a cover where there is no fox, but
+they rarely pass a gorse thicket and leave one undetected. His lodgers
+thus became to him a study. Had he been a man of leisure, he would have
+devoted the whole of it to their service; he would have dogged their
+steps, learned their haunts, and watched their acquaintances,--if
+they had any. Sunday was, however, his one free day, and by some
+inconceivable perversity they usually spent the entire of it at home.
+
+The few books they possessed bore no names, some of them were in foreign
+languages, and increased thereby Mr. O'Reardon's suspicious distrust;
+but none gave any clew to their owners. There was another reason for his
+eagerness and anxiety; for a long time back Ireland had been generally
+in a condition of comparative quiet and prosperity; there was less
+of distress, and, consequently, less of outrage. The people seemed at
+length to rely more upon themselves and their own industry than on
+the specious promises of trading politicians, and Mr. O'Reardon, whose
+functions, I fear, were not above reproach in the matter of secret
+information, began to fear lest some fine morning he might be told his
+occupation was gone, and that his employers no longer needed the fine
+intelligence that could smell treason, even by a sniff; he must, he
+said, do something to revive the memory of his order, or the chance was
+it would be extinguished forever.
+
+He had to choose between denouncing them as French emissaries or
+American sympathizers. A novel of Balzac's that lay on the table decided
+for the former, for he knew enough to be aware it was in French; and
+fortified with this fact, he proceeded to draw up his indictment for the
+Castle.
+
+It was, it must be confessed, a very meagre document; it contained
+little beyond the writer's own suspicions. Two men who were poor enough
+to live in Avoca Villa, and yet rich enough to do nothing for their
+livelihood, who gave no names, went out at unseasonable hours, and
+understood French, ought to be dangerous, and required to be watched,
+and therefore he gave an accurate description of their general
+appearance, age, and dress, at the office of the Private Secretary, and
+asked for his "instructions" in consequence.
+
+Mr. O'Reardon was not a bad portrait-painter with his pen, and in
+the case of Sir Brook there were peculiarities enough to make even
+a caricature a resemblance; his tall narrow head, his long drooping
+moustache, his massive gray eyebrows, his look of stern dignity, would
+have marked him, even without the singularities of dress which recalled
+the fashions of fifty years before.
+
+Little, indeed, did the old man suspect that his high-collared coat and
+bell-shaped hat were subjecting him to grave doubts upon his loyalty.
+Little did he think, as he sauntered at evening along the green lanes
+in this retired neighborhood, that his thoughts ought to have been on
+treason and bloodshed.
+
+He had come to the little lodging, it is true, for privacy. After his
+failure in that memorable interview with Sir William Lendrick, he had
+determined that he would not either importune the Viceroy for place, or
+would he be in any way the means of complicating the question between
+the Government and the Chief Baron by exciting the Lord-Lieutenant's
+interest in his behalf.
+
+"We must change our lodging, Tom," said he, when he came home on that
+night. "I am desirous that, for the few days we remain here, none should
+trace nor discover us. I will not accept what are called compensations,
+nor will I live on here to be either a burden or a reproach to men who
+were once only my equals."
+
+"You found my worthy grandfather somewhat less tractable than you
+thought for, sir?" asked Tom.
+
+"He was very fiery and very haughty; but on the whole, there was much
+that I liked in him. Such vitality in a man of his years is in itself a
+grand quality, and even in its aggressiveness suggests much to regard.
+He refused to hear of me for the vacant office, and he would not accept
+_you_."
+
+"How did he take your proposal to aid us by a loan?"
+
+"I never made it. The terms we found ourselves on after half an hour's
+discussion of other matters rendered such a project impossible."
+
+"And Lucy, how did she behave through it all?"
+
+"She was not there; I did not see her."
+
+"So that it turned out as I predicted,--a mere meeting to exchange
+amenities."
+
+"The amenities were not many, Tom; and I doubt much if your grandfather
+will treasure up any very delightful recollections of my acquaintance."
+
+"I'd like to see the man, woman, or child," burst out Tom, "who ever got
+out of his cage without a scratch. I don't believe that Europe contains
+his equal for irascibility."
+
+"Don't dwell on these views of life," said Sir Brook, almost sternly.
+"You, nor I, know very little what are the sources of those intemperate
+outbreaks we so often complain of,--what sore trials are ulcerating the
+nature, what agonizing maladies, what secret terrors, what visions of
+impending misery; least of all do we know or take count of the fact that
+it is out of these high-strung temperaments we obtain those thrilling
+notes of human passion and tenderness coarser natures never attain to.
+Let us bear with a passing discord in the instrument whose cadences can
+move us to very ecstasy."
+
+Tom hung his head in silence, but he certainly did not seem convinced.
+Sir Brook quietly resumed: "How often have I told you that the world
+has more good than bad in it,--yes, and what's more, that as we go on
+in life this conviction strengthens in us, and that our best experiences
+are based on getting rid of our disbeliefs. Hear what happened me this
+morning. You know that for some days back I have been negotiating to
+raise a small loan of four hundred pounds to take us to Sardinia and
+start our mine. Mr. Waring, who was to have lent me this sum on the
+security of the mine itself, took it into his head to hesitate at the
+last hour, and inserted an additional clause that I should insure my
+life in his behalf.
+
+"I was disconcerted, of course, by this,--so much so, that had I not
+bought a variety of tools and implements on trust, I believe I would
+have relinquished the bargain and tried elsewhere. It was, however, too
+late for this; I was driven to accept his terms, and, accredited with a
+printed formula from an insurance office, I waited on the doctor who was
+to examine me.
+
+"A very brief investigation satisfied him that I was not seaworthy; he
+discovered I know not what about the valves of my heart, that implied
+mischief, and after 'percussing' me, as he called it, and placing his
+ear to my chest, he said, 'I regret to say, sir, that I cannot pronounce
+you insurable.'
+
+"I could have told him that I came of a long-lived race on either side;
+that during my life I had scarcely known an illness, that I had borne
+the worst climates without injury, and such-like,--but I forbore; I
+had too much deference for his station and his acquirements to set
+my judgment against them, and I arose to take my leave. It is just
+possible, though I cannot say I felt it, that his announcement might
+have affected me; at all events, the disappointment did so, and I was
+terrified about the difficulties in which I saw myself involved. I
+became suddenly sick, and I asked for a glass of water; before it came I
+had fainted, a thing that never in my whole life had befallen me.
+When, I rallied, he led me to talk of my usual habits and pursuits,
+and gradually brought me to the subject which had led me-to his house.
+'What!' said he, 'ask for any security beyond the property itself! It is
+absurd; Waring is always-doing these things. Let me advance this money.
+I know a great deal more about you, Sir Brook, than you think; my friend
+Dr. Lendrick has spoken much of you, and of all your kindness to his
+son; and though you may not have heard of my name,--Beattie,--I am very
+familiar with yours.'
+
+"In a word, Tom, he advanced the money. It is now in that writing-desk;
+and I have--I feel it--a friend the-more in the world. As I left his
+door, I could not help saying to myself, What signify a few days more or
+less of life, so long as such generous traits as this follow one to the
+last? He made me a happier man by his noble trust in me than if he had
+declared me a miracle of strength and vigor. Who is that looking in at
+the window, Tom? It's the second time I have seen a face there."
+
+Tom started to his feet and hurried to the door. There was, however, no
+one there; and the little lane was silent and deserted. He stopped a few
+minutes to listen, but not a footfall could be heard, and he returned to
+the room believing it must have been a mere illusion.
+
+"Let us light candles, Tom, and have out our maps. I want to see whether
+Marseilles will not be our best and cheapest route to the island."
+
+They were soon poring eagerly over the opened map, Sir Brook carefully
+studying all the available modes of travel; while Tom, be it owned, let
+his eyes wander from land to land, till following out the Danube to the
+Black Sea, he crossed over and stretched away into the mountain gorges
+of Circassia, where Schamyl and his brave followers were then fighting
+for liberty. For maps, like the lands they picture, never offer to
+two minds kindred thoughts; each follows out in space the hopes and
+ambitions that his heart is charged with; and where one reads wars
+and battle-fields, another but sees pastoral pleasures and a tranquil
+existence,--home and home-happiness.
+
+"Yes, Tom; here I have it. These coasting-craft, whose sailing-lines
+are marked here, will take us and our traps to Cagliari for a mere
+trifle,--here is the route."
+
+As the young man bent over the map, the door behind opened, and a
+stranger entered. "So I have found you, Fossbrooke!" cried he, "though
+they insisted you had left Ireland ten days ago."
+
+"Mercy on me! Lord Wilmington!" said Sir Brook, as he shaded his eyes to
+stare at him. "What could have brought you here?"
+
+"I 'll tell you," said he, dropping his voice. "I read a description so
+very like you in the secret report this morning, that I sent my servant
+Curtis, who knows you well, to see if it was not yourself; when he
+came back to me--for I waited for him at the end of the lane--with the
+assurance that I was right, I came on here. I must tell you that I took
+the precaution to have your landlord detained, as if for examination, at
+the Under-Secretary's office; and he is the only one here who knows me.
+Mr. Lendrick, I hope you have not forgotten me? We met some months ago
+on the Shannon."
+
+"What can I offer you?" said Sir Brook. "Shall it be tea? We were just
+going to have it."
+
+"I 'll take whatever you like to give me; but let us profit by the few
+moments I can stay. Tell me how was it you failed with the Chief Baron?"
+
+"He wouldn't have me; that's all. He maintains his right to an undivided
+patronage, and will accept of no dictation."
+
+"Will he accept of your friend here? He has strong claims on him."
+
+"As little as myself, my Lord; he grew eloquent on his public virtue,
+and of course became hopeless."
+
+"Will he retire and let us compensate him?"
+
+"I believe not. He thinks the country has a vested interest in his
+capacity, and as he cannot be replaced, he has no right to retire.''
+
+"He may make almost his own terms with us, Fossbrooke," said
+the Viceroy. "We want to get rid of himself and an intractable
+Solicitor-General together. Will you try what can be done?"
+
+"Not I, my Lord. I have made my first and last advances in that
+quarter."
+
+"And yet I believe you are our last chance. He told Pemberton yesterday
+you were the one man of ability that ever called on him with a message
+from a Viceroy."
+
+"Let us leave him undisturbed in his illusion, my Lord."
+
+"I 'd say, let us profit by it, Fossbrooke. I have been in search of you
+these eight days, to beg you would take the negotiation in hand. Come,
+Mr. Lendrick, you are interested in this; assist me in persuading Sir
+Brook to accept this charge. If he will undertake the mission, I am
+ready to give him ample powers to treat."
+
+"I suspect, my Lord," said Tom, "you do not know my grandfather. He is
+not a very manageable person to deal with."
+
+"It is for that reason I want to place him in the hands of my old friend
+here."
+
+"No, no, my Lord; it is quite hopeless. Had we never met, I might
+have come before him with some chance of success; but I have already
+prejudiced myself in his eyes, and our one interview was not very
+gratifying to either of us."
+
+"I'll not give in, Fossbrooke, even though I am well aware I can do
+nothing to requite the service I ask of you."
+
+"We leave Ireland to-morrow evening. We have a project which requires
+our presence in the island of Sardinia. We are about to make our
+fortunes, my Lord, and I 'm sure you 're not the man to throw any
+obstacle in the way."
+
+"Give me half an hour of your morning, Fossbrooke; half an hour will
+suffice. Drive out to the Priory; see the Chief Baron; tell him I
+intrusted the negotiation to you, as at once more delicate to each
+of us. You are disconnected with all party ties here. Say it is not a
+question of advancing this man or that,--that we well know how
+inferior must any successor be to himself, but that certain changes
+are all-essential to us. We have not--I may tell you in confidence--the
+right man as our law adviser in the House; and add, 'It is a moment
+to make your own terms; write them down and you shall have your reply
+within an hour,--a favorable one I may almost pledge myself it will be.
+At all events, every detail of the meeting is strictly between us, and
+on honor.' Come, now, Fossbrooke; do this for me as the greatest service
+I could entreat of you."
+
+"I cannot refuse you any longer. I will go. I only premise that I am to
+limit myself strictly to the statement you shall desire me to repeat. I
+know nothing of the case; and I cannot be its advocate."
+
+"Just so. Give me your card. I will merely write these words,--'See Sir
+Brook for me.--Wilmington.' Our object is his resignation, and we are
+prepared to pay handsomely for it. Now, a word with you, Mr. Lendrick. I
+heard most honorable mention of you yesterday from the vice-provost; he
+tells me that your college career was a triumph so long as you liked
+it, and that you have abilities for any walk in life. Why not continue,
+then, on so successful a path? Why not remain, take out your degree, and
+emulate that distinguished relative who has thrown such lustre on your
+family?"
+
+"First of all, my Lord, you have heard me much overrated. I am not at
+all the man these gentlemen deem me; secondly, if I were, I 'd rather
+bring my abilities to any pursuit my friend here could suggest. I 'd
+rather be _his_ companion than be my grandfather's rival. You have heard
+what he said awhile ago,--we are going to seek our fortune."
+
+"He said to make it," said Lord Wilmington, with a smile.
+
+"Be it so, my Lord. _I 'll_ seek, and _he 'll_ find; at all events, I
+shall be his companion; and I'm a duller dog than I think myself if I do
+not manage to be the better of it."
+
+"You are not the only one he has fascinated," said the Viceroy, in a
+whisper. "I 'm not sure I 'd disenchant you if I had the power."
+
+"Must I positively undertake this negotiation?" asked Fossbrooke, with a
+look of entreaty.
+
+"You must"
+
+"I know I shall fail."
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"Well, as Lady Macbeth says, if we fail _we fail_; and though murdering
+a king be an easier thing than muzzling a Chief Baron,--here goes."
+
+As he said this, the door was gently moved, and a head protruded into
+the room.
+
+"Who is that?" cried Tom, springing rapidly towards the door; but
+all was noiseless and quiet, and no one to be seen. "I believe we are
+watched here," said he, coming back into the room.
+
+"Good-night, then. Let me have your report as early as may be,
+Fossbrooke. Good-night."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. A MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+
+The morning after this interview was that on which the Chief Baron had
+invited Colonel Sewell to inspect his gardens and hothouses,--a promise
+of pleasure which, it is but fair to own, the Colonel regarded with no
+extravagant delight. To his thinking, the old Judge was an insupportable
+bore. His courtesy, his smartness, his anecdotes, his reminiscences were
+all Boredom. He was only endurable when by the excess of his conceit he
+made himself ridiculous. Then alone did Sewell relish his company; for
+he belonged to that class of men, and it is a class, who feel their
+highest enjoyment whenever they witness any trait in human nature that
+serves to disparage its dignity or tarnish its lustre.
+
+That a man of unquestionable ability and power like the Chief
+Baron should render himself absurd through his vanity, was a great
+compensation to such a person as Sewell. To watch the weaknesses and
+note the flaws in a great nature, to treasure up the consolation that,
+after all, these "high intelligences" occasionally make precious fools
+of themselves, are very congenial pastimes to small folk. Perhaps,
+indeed, they are the sole features of such men they are able to
+appreciate, and, like certain reptiles, they never venture to bite save
+where corruption has preceded them.
+
+Nothing in his manner betrayed this tendency; he was polished and
+courteous to a degree. A very critical eye might have detected in
+his bearing that he had been long a subordinate. His deference was a
+little--a very little--overstrained; he listened with a slight tinge
+of over-attention; and in his humility as he heard an order, and his
+activity as he obeyed it, you could read at once the aide-decamp in
+waiting.
+
+It is not necessary to remind the reader that all this lacquer of good
+breeding covered a very coarse and vulgar nature. In manner he was
+charming,--his approach, his address, his conversation were all perfect;
+he knew well when to be silent,--when to concur by a smile with what he
+was not expected to confirm by a word,--when to seem suddenly confronted
+with a new conviction, and how to yield assent as though coerced to
+what he would rather have resisted. In a word, he was perfect in all the
+training of those superb poodles who fetch and carry for their masters,
+that they may have the recompense of snarling at all the rest of
+mankind.
+
+As there are heaven-born doctors, lawyers, divines, and engineers, so
+are there men specially created for the antechamber, and Sewell was one
+of them.
+
+The old Judge had given orders for a liberal breakfast. He deemed a
+soldier's appetite would be a hearty one, and he meant to treat him
+hospitably. The table was therefore very generously spread, and
+Sewell looked approvingly at the fare, and ventured on a few words of
+compliment on the ample preparations before him.
+
+"It is the only real breakfast-table I have seen since I left Calcutta,"
+said he, smiling graciously.
+
+"You do me honor, sir," replied the old man, who was not quite sure
+whether or not he felt pleased to be complimented on a mere domestic
+incident.
+
+Sewell saw the hitch at once, and resumed: "I remember an observation
+Lord Commorton made me when I joined his staff in India. I happened to
+make some remark on a breakfast set out pretty much like this, and he
+said, 'Bear in mind, Captain Sewell, that when a man who holds a high
+function sits down to a well-served breakfast, it means that he has
+already completed the really important work of the day. The full head
+means the empty stomach.'"
+
+"His Excellency was right, sir; had he always been inspired with
+sentiments of equal wisdom, we should never have been involved in that
+unhappy Cantankankarabad war."
+
+"It was a very disastrous affair, indeed," sighed Sewell; "I was through
+the whole of it."
+
+"When I first heard of the project," continued the Judge, "I remarked
+to a friend who was with me,--one of the leading men at the Bar,--'This
+campaign will tarnish our arms, and imperil our hold on India. The
+hill-tribes are eminently warlike, and however specious in their
+promises to us, their fidelity to their chiefs has never been shaken.'"
+
+"If your judgment had been listened to, it would have saved us a heavy
+reverse, and saved me a very painful wound; both bones were fractured
+here," said Sewell, showing his wrist.
+
+The Chief Baron scarcely deigned a glance at the cicatrix; he was high
+above such puny considerations. He was at that moment Governor-General
+of India and Prime Minister of England together. He was legislating for
+hundreds of millions of dark-skins, and preparing his explanations of
+his policy for the pale faces at home.
+
+"'Mark my words, Haire,' said I," continued the Judge, with increased
+pomposity of manner, "'this is the beginning of insurrection in India.'
+We have a maxim in law, Colonel Sewell, Like case, like rule. So was it
+there. May I help you to this curry?"
+
+"I declare, my Lord, I was beginning to forget how hungry I was. Shall I
+be deemed impertinent if I ask how you obtained your marvellous--for it
+is marvellous--knowledge of India?"
+
+"Just as I know the Japanese constitution; just as I know Central
+Africa; just as I know, and was able to quote some time back, that
+curious chapter of the Brehon laws on substitutes in penal cases. My
+rule of life has been, never to pass a day without increasing the store
+of my acquirements."
+
+"And all this with the weighty charge and labor of your high office."
+
+"Yes, sir; I have been eighteen years on the Bench. I have delivered
+in that time some judgments which have come to be deemed amongst the
+highest principles of British law. I have contributed largely to the
+periodical literature of the time. In a series of papers--you may not
+have heard of them--signed 'Icon,' in the 'Lawyer's Treasury of Useful
+Facts,' I have defended the Bar against the aggressive violence of the
+Legislature, I hope it is not too much to say, triumphantly."
+
+"I remember Judge Beale, our Indian Chief-Justice, referring to those
+papers as the most splendid statement of the position and claims of the
+barrister in Great Britain."
+
+"Beale was an ass, sir; his law was a shade below his logic,--both were
+pitiable."
+
+"Indeed?--yes, a little more gravy. Is your cook a Provencal? that
+omelette would seem to say so."
+
+"My cook is a woman, and an Irishwoman, sir. She came to me from Lord
+Manners, and, I need not say, with the worst traditions of her art,
+which, under Lady Lendrick's training, attained almost to the dignity of
+poisoning."
+
+Sewell could not restrain himself any longer, but laughed out at this
+sudden outburst. The old Judge was, however, pleased to accept the
+emotion as complimentary; he smiled and went on: "I recognized her
+aptitude, and resolved to train her, and to this end I made it a
+practice to detain her every morning after prayers, and read to her
+certain passages from approved authors on cookery, making her experiment
+on the receipts for the servants' hall. We had at first some slight
+cases of illness, but not more serious than colic and violent cramps. In
+the end she was successful, sir, and has become what you see her."
+
+"She would be a _cordon bleu_ in Paris."
+
+"I will take care, sir, that she hears of your approval. Would you not
+like a glass of Maraschino to finish with?"
+
+"I have just tasted your brandy, and it is exquisite."
+
+"I cannot offer you a cigar, Colonel; but you are at liberty to smoke if
+you have one."
+
+"If I might have a stroll in that delicious garden that I see there, I
+could ask nothing better. Ah, my Lord," said he, as they sauntered
+down a richly scented alley, "India has nothing like this,--I doubt if
+Paradise has any better."
+
+"You mean to return to the East?"
+
+"Not if I can help it,--not if an exchange is possible. The fact is,
+my Lord, my dear wife's health makes India impossible so far as she is
+concerned; the children, too, are of the age that requires removal to
+Europe; so that, if I go back, I go back alone." He said this with
+a voice of deep depression, and intending to inspire the sorrow that
+overwhelmed him. The old Judge, however, fancied he had heard of heavier
+calamities in life than living separated from the wife of his bosom;
+he imagined, at least, that with courage and fortitude the deprivation
+might be endured; so he merely twitched the corners of his mouth in
+silence.
+
+The Colonel misread his meaning, and went on: "Aspiring to nothing in
+life beyond a home and home-happiness, it is, of course, a heavy blow
+to me to sacrifice either my career or my comfort. I cannot possibly
+anticipate a return earlier than eight or ten years; and who is to count
+upon eight or ten years in that pestilent climate? Assuredly not a man
+already broken down by wounds and jungle fever!"
+
+The justice of the remark was, perhaps, sufficient for the Chief Baron.
+He paid no attention to its pathetic side, and _so_ did not reply.
+
+Sewell began to lose patience, but he controlled himself, and, after a
+few puffs of his cigar, went on: "If it were not for the children, I 'd
+take the thing easy enough. Half-pay is a beggarly thing, but I 'd
+put up with it. I 'm not a man of expensive tastes. If I can relish
+thoroughly such sumptuous fare as you gave me this morning, I can put up
+with very humble diet. I 'm a regular soldier in that."
+
+"An excellent quality, sir," said the old man, dryly.
+
+"Lucy, of course, would suffer. There are privations which fall very
+heavily on a woman, and a woman, too, who has always been accustomed to
+a good deal of luxury."
+
+The Chief bowed an assent.
+
+"I suppose I might get a depot appointment for a year or two. I might
+also--if I sold out--manage a barrack-mastership, or become an inspector
+of yeomanry, or some such vulgar makeshift; but I own, my Lord, when
+a man has filled the places I have,--held staff appointments,--been a
+private secretary,--discharged high trusts, too, for in Mooraghabad
+I acted as Deputy-Resident for eight months,--it does seem a precious
+come-down to ask to be made a paymaster in a militia regiment, or a
+subaltern in the mounted police."
+
+"Civil life is always open to a man of activity and energy," said the
+Judge, calmly.
+
+"If civil life means a profession, it means the sort of labor a man is
+very unfit for after five-and-thirty. The Church, of course, is open on
+easier terms; but I have scruples about the Church. I really could not
+take orders without I could conscientiously say, This is a walk I feel
+called to."
+
+"An honorable sentiment, sir," was the dry rejoinder.
+
+"So that the end will be, I suppose, one of these days I shall just
+repack my bullock-trunk, and go back to the place from whence I came,
+with the fate that attends such backward journeys!"
+
+The Chief Baron made no remark. He stooped to fasten, a fallen carnation
+to the stick it had been attached to, and then resumed his walk. Sewell
+was so provoked by the sense of failure--for it had been a direct
+assault--that he walked along silent and morose. His patience could
+endure no longer, and he was ready now to resent whatever should annoy
+him.
+
+"Have you any of the requirements, sir, that civil services demand?"
+asked the Judge, after a long pause.
+
+"I take it I have such as every educated gentleman possesses," replied
+Sewell, tartly.
+
+"And what may these be, in your estimation?"
+
+"I can read and write, I know the first three rules of arithmetic, and I
+believe these are about the qualifications that fit a man for a place in
+the Cabinet."
+
+"You are right, sir. With these, and the facility to talk platitudes in
+Parliament, a man may go very far and very high in life. I see that you
+know the world."
+
+Sewell, for a moment, scarcely knew whether to accept the speech as
+irony or approval; but a sidelong glance showed him that the old man's
+face had resumed its expression of mingled insolence and vanity, and
+convinced him that he was now sincere. "The men," said the Judge,
+pompously, "who win their way to high station in these days are either
+the crafty tricksters of party or the gross flatterers of the people;
+and whenever a man of superior mould is discovered, able to leave his
+mark on the age, and capable of making his name a memory, they have
+nothing better to offer him, as their homage, than an entreaty that he
+would resign his office and retire."
+
+"I go with every word you say, my Lord," cried Sewell, with a well-acted
+enthusiasm.
+
+"I want no approval, sir; I can sustain my opinions without a
+following!" A long silence ensued; neither was disposed to speak: at
+last the Judge said,--and he now spoke in a more kindly tone, divested
+alike of passion and of vanity,--"Your friends must see if something
+cannot be done for you, Colonel Sewell. I have little doubt but that
+you have many and warm friends. I speak not of myself; I am but a broken
+reed to depend on. Never was there one with less credit with his party.
+I might go farther, and say, never was there one whose advocacy would
+be more sure to damage a good cause; therefore exclude _me_ in all
+questions of your advancement. If you could obliterate our relationship,
+it might possibly serve you."
+
+"I am too proud of it, my Lord, to think so."
+
+"Well, sir," said he, with a sigh, "it is possibly a thing a man need
+not feel ashamed of; at least I hope as much. But we must take the world
+as it is, and when we want the verdict of public opinion, we must not
+presume to ask for a special jury. What does that servant want? Will you
+have the kindness to ask him whom he is looking for?"
+
+"It is a visitor's card, my Lord," said Sewell, handing it to the old
+man as he spoke.
+
+"There is some writing on it. Do me the favor to read it."
+
+Sewell took the card and read, "See Sir B. for me.--Wilmington. Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke." The last words Sewell spoke in a voice barely above
+a whisper, for a deadly sickness came over him, and he swayed to and fro
+like one about to faint.
+
+"What! does he return to the charge?" cried the old man, fiercely. "The
+Viceroy was a diplomatist once. Might it not have taught him that, after
+a failure, it would be as well to employ another envoy?"
+
+"You have seen this gentleman already, then?" asked Sewell, in a low
+faint tone.
+
+"Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half together,--an hour and half that
+neither of us will easily forget."
+
+"I conjecture, then, that he made no very favorable impression upon you,
+my Lord?"
+
+"Sir, you go too fast. I have said nothing to warrant your surmise; nor
+am I one to be catechised as to the opinions I form of other men. It is
+enough on the present occasion if I say I do not desire to receive Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke, accredited though he be from so high a quarter.
+Will you do me the very great favor"--and now his voice became almost
+insinuating in its tone--"will you so deeply oblige me ate to see him
+for me? Say that I am prevented by the state of my health; that the
+rigorous injunctions of my doctor to avoid all causes of excitement--lay
+stress on excitement--deprive me of the honor of receiving him in
+person; but that _you_--mention our relationship--have been deputed by
+me to hear, and if necessary to convey to me, any communication he
+may have to make. You will take care to impress upon him that if the
+subject-matter of his visit be the same as that so lately discussed
+between ourselves, you will avail yourself of the discretion confided
+to you not to report it to me. That my nerves have not sufficiently
+recovered from the strain of that excitement to return to a topic
+no less full of irritating features than utterly hopeless of
+all accommodation. Mind, sir, that you employ the word as I give
+it,--'accommodation.' It is a Gallicism, but all the better, where one
+desires to be imperative, and yet vague. You have your instructions,
+sir."
+
+"Yes, I think I understand what you desire me to do. My only difficulty
+is to know whether the matters Sir Brook Fossbrooke may bring forward
+be the same as those you discussed together. If I had any clew to these
+topics, I should at once be in a position to say, These are themes I
+must decline to present to the Chief Baron."
+
+"You have no need to know them, sir," said the old man, haughtily. "You
+are in the position of an attesting witness; you have no dealing with
+the body of the document. Ask Sir Brook the question as I have put it,
+and reply as I have dictated."
+
+Sewell stood for a moment in deep thought. Had the old man but known
+over what realms of space his mind was wandering,--what troubles and
+perplexities that brain was encountering,--he might have been more
+patient and more merciful as he gazed on him.
+
+"I don't think, sir, I have confided to you any very difficult or very
+painful task," said the Judge at last.
+
+"Nothing of the kind, my Lord," replied he, quickly; "my anxiety is
+only that I may acquit myself to your perfect satisfaction. I 'll go at
+once."
+
+"You will find me here whenever you want me."
+
+Sewell bowed, and went his way; not straight towards the house, however,
+but into a little copse at the end of the garden, to recover his
+equanimity and collect himself. Of all the disasters that could befall
+him, he knew of none he was less ready to confront than the presence of
+Sir Brook Fossbrooke in the same town with himself. No suspicion ever
+crossed his mind that he would come to Ireland. The very last he had
+heard of him was in New Zealand, where it was said he was about to
+settle. What, too, could be his business with the Chief Baron? Had he
+discovered their relationship, and was he come to denounce and expose
+him? No,--evidently not. The Viceroy's introduction of him could not
+point in this direction, and then the old Judge's own manner negatived
+this conjecture. Had he heard but one of the fifty stories Sir Brook
+could have told of him, there would be no question of suffering him to
+cross his threshold.
+
+"How shall I meet him? how shall I address him?" muttered he again and
+again to himself, as he walked to and fro in a perfect agony of trouble
+and perplexity. With almost any other man in the world, Sewell would
+have relied on his personal qualities to carry him through a passage of
+difficulty. He could assume a temper of complete imperturbability; he
+could put on calm, coldness, deference, if needed, to any extent; he
+could have acted his part--it would have been mere acting--as man of
+honor and man of courage to the life, with any other to confront him but
+Sir Brook.
+
+This, however, was the one man on earth who knew him,--the one man by
+whose mercy he was able to hold up his head and maintain his station;
+and that this one man should now be here! here, within a few yards of
+where he stood!
+
+"I could murder him as easily as I go to meet him," muttered Sewell, as
+he turned towards the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
+
+As Sir Brook sat in the library waiting for the arrival of the Chief
+Baron, Lucy Lendrick came in to look for a book she had been reading.
+"Only think, sir," said she, flushing deeply with joy and astonishment
+together,--"to find you here! What a delightful surprise!"
+
+"I have come, my dear child," said he, gravely, "to speak with Sir
+William on a matter of some importance; and evidently he is not aware
+that my moments are precious, for I have been here above half an hour
+alone."
+
+"But now that I am with you," said she, coquettishly, "you 'll surely
+not be so churlish of your time, will you?"
+
+"There is no churlishness, my darling Lucy, in honest thrift. I
+have nothing to give away." The deep sadness of his voice showed how
+intensely his words were charged with a stronger significance. "We are
+off to-night."
+
+"To-night!" cried she, eagerly.
+
+"Yes, Lucy. It's no great banishment,--only to an island in the
+Mediterranean, and Tom came up here with me in the vague, very vague
+hope he might see you. I left him in the shrubbery near the gate, for he
+would not consent to come farther."
+
+"I 'll go to him at once. We shall meet again," said she, as she opened
+the sash-door and hastened down the lawn at speed.
+
+After another wait of full a quarter of an hour, Foss-brooke's patience
+became exhausted, and he drew nigh the bell to summon a servant; his
+hand was on the rope, when the door opened, and Sewell entered. Whatever
+astonishment Fossbrooke might have felt at this unexpected appearance,
+nothing in his manner or look betrayed it. As for Sewell, all his
+accustomed ease had deserted him, and he came forward with an air of
+assumed swagger, but his color came and went, and his hands twitched
+almost convulsively.
+
+He bowed, and, smiling courteously, invited Fossbrooke to be seated.
+Haughtily drawing himself up to his full height, Sir Brook said, in his
+own deep sonorous voice, "There can be nothing between us, sir, that
+cannot be dismissed in a moment--and as we stand."
+
+"As you please, sir," rejoined Sewell, with an attempt at the same
+haughty tone. "I have been deputed by my stepfather, the Chief Baron,
+to make his excuses for not receiving you,--his health forbids
+the excitement. It is his-wish that you may make to _me_ whatever
+communication you had destined for _him_."
+
+"Which I refuse, sir, at once," interrupted Sir Brook. "I opine, then,
+there is no more to be said," said Sewell, with a faint smile.
+
+"Nothing more, sir,--not a word; unless perhaps you will be gracious
+enough to explain to the Chief Baron the reasons--they cannot be unknown
+to you--why I refuse all and any communication with Colonel Sewell."
+
+"I have no presumption to read your mind and know your thoughts," said
+Sewell, with quiet politeness.
+
+"You would discover nothing in either to your advantage, sir," said
+Fossbrooke, defiantly.
+
+"Might I add, sir," said Sewell, with an easy smile, "that all your
+malevolence cannot exceed my indifference to it?"
+
+Fossbrooke waived his hand haughtily, as though to dismiss the subject
+and all discussion of it, and after a few seconds' pause said: "We have
+a score that must be settled one day. I have deferred the reckoning out
+of reverence to the memory of one whose name must not be uttered between
+us, but the day for it shall come. Meanwhile, sir, you shall pay me
+interest on your debt."
+
+"What do you assume me to owe you?" asked Sewell, whose agitation could
+no longer be masked.
+
+"You would laugh if I said, your character before the world and the
+repute through which men keep your company; but you will not laugh--no,
+sir, not even smile--when I say that you owe me the liberty by which
+you are at large, instead of being, as I could prove you, a forger and a
+felon."
+
+Sewell threw a hurried and terrified look around the room, as though
+there might possibly be some to overhear the words; he grasped the back
+of a chair to steady himself, and in the convulsive effort seemed as if
+he was about to commit some act of violence.
+
+"None of that, sir," said Fossbrooke, folding his arms.
+
+"I meant nothing; I intended nothing; I was faint, and wanted support,"
+stammered out Sewell, in a broken voice. "What do you mean by interest?
+How am I to pay interest on an indefinite sum?"
+
+"It may relieve you of some anxiety to learn that I am not speaking
+of money in the interest I require of you. What I want--what I shall
+exact--is this: that you and yours--" He stopped and grew scarlet; the
+fear lest something coarse or offensive might fall from him in a moment
+of heat and anger arrested his words, and he was silent.
+
+Sewell saw all the difficulty. A less adroit man would have deemed the
+moment favorable to assert a triumph; Sewell was too acute for this, and
+waited without speaking a word.
+
+"My meaning is this," said Fossbrooke, in a voice of emotion. "There is
+a young lady here for whom I have the deepest interest. I desire that,
+so long as she lives estranged from her father's roof, she should not be
+exposed to other influences than such as she has met there. She is new
+to life and the world, and I would not that she should make acquaintance
+with them through any guidance save of her own nearest and dearest
+friends."
+
+"I hear, sir; but, I am free to own, I greatly mistrust myself to
+appreciate your meaning."
+
+"I am sorry for it," said Fossbrooke, sighing. "I wanted to convey my
+hope that in your intercourse here Miss Lendrick might be spared the
+perils of--of--"
+
+"My wife's friendship, you would say, sir," said Sewell, with a perfect
+composure of voice and look.
+
+Fossbrooke hung his head. Shame and sorrow alike crushed him down. Oh
+that the day should come when he could speak thus of Frank Dillon's
+daughter!
+
+"I will not say with what pain I hear you, Sir Brook," said Sewell, in
+a low gentle voice. "I am certain that you never uttered such a speech
+without much suffering. It will alleviate your fears when I tell you
+that we only remain a few days in town. I have taken a country house,
+some sixty or seventy miles from the capital, and we mean to live there
+entirely."
+
+"I am satisfied," said Sir Brook, whose eagerness to make reparation was
+now extreme.
+
+"Of course I shall mention nothing of this to my wife," said Sewell.
+
+"Of course not, sir; save with such an explanation as I could give of my
+meaning, it would be an outrage."
+
+"I was not aware that there was--that there could be--an explanation,"
+said Sewell, quietly; and then seeing the sudden flash that shot from
+the old man's eyes, he added hastily, "This is far too painful to dwell
+on; let it suffice, sir, that I fully understand you, and that you shall
+be obeyed."
+
+"I ask no more," said Fossbrooke, bowing slightly.
+
+"You will comprehend, Sir Brook," resumed Sewell, "that as I am
+precluded from making this conversation known to my wife, I shall not be
+able to limit any intimacy between her and Miss Lendrick farther than by
+such intimations and hints as I may offer without exciting suspicion. It
+might happen, for instance, that in coming up to town we should be Sir
+William's guests. Am I to suppose that you interdict this?"
+
+"I hope I am not capable of such a condition," said Sir Brook, flushing,
+for at every step and stage of the negotiation he felt that his zeal had
+outrun his judgment, and that he was attempting not only more than he
+could, but more than he ought to do.
+
+"In fairness, Sir Brook," said Sewell, with an assumed candor that sat
+very well on him, "I ought to tell you that your conditions are very
+easy ones My wife has come to this country to recruit her health and
+look after her children. I myself shall probably be on my way back to
+India soon after Christmas. Our small means totally preclude living
+in the gay world; and," added he, with a laugh, "if we really had
+any blandishments or captivations at our disposal, they would be best
+bestowed on the Horse Guards, to extend my leave, or assist me to an
+exchange."
+
+There was high art in the way in which Sewell had so contrived to get
+the old man involved in the conflict of his own feelings that he was
+actually grateful for the easy and even familiar tone employed towards
+him.
+
+"I have wounded this man deeply," said Fossbrooke to himself. "I have
+said to him things alike unfeeling and ungenerous, and yet he has temper
+enough to treat me amicably, even courteously."
+
+It was almost on his lips to say that he had still some influence
+with the Horse Guards, that a great man there had been one of his most
+intimate friends in life, and that he was ready to do anything in his
+power with him, when a sudden glance at Sewell's face recalled him at
+once to himself, and he stammered out, "I will detain you no longer,
+sir. Be kind enough to explain to the Lord Chief Baron that my
+communication was of a character that could not be made indirectly. His
+Excellency's name on my card probably suggested as much. It might be
+proper to add that the subject was one solely attaching to his Lordship
+and to his Lordship's interest. He will himself understand what I mean."
+
+Sewell bowed acquiescence. As he stood at the half-open door, he was
+disposed to offer his hand. It was a bold step, but he knew if it should
+succeed it would be a great victory. The opportunity was too good to be
+lost, and just as Sir Brook turned to say good-morning, Sewell, like one
+carried away by a sudden impulse, held out his hand, and said, "You may
+trust me, Sir Brook."
+
+"If you wish me to do so, sir, let me not touch your hand," said the
+old man, with a look of stern and haughty defiance, and he strode out
+without a farewell.
+
+Sewell staggered back into the room and sat down. A clammy cold
+perspiration covered his face and forehead, for the rancor that filled
+his heart sickened him like a malady. "You shall pay for this, by
+heaven! you shall," muttered he, as he wiped the great drops from his
+brow. "The old fool himself has taught me where he was vulnerable, and
+as I live he shall feel it."
+
+"His Lordship wants to see you, sir; he is in the garden," said a
+servant; and Sewell rose and followed him. He stopped twice as he went
+to compose his features and regain his calm. On the last time he even
+rehearsed the few words and the smile by which he meant to accost the
+Judge. The little artifice was, however, forestalled, as Sir William
+met him abruptly with the words, "What a time you have been,
+sir,--forty-eight minutes by my watch!"
+
+"I assure you, my Lord, I'd have made it shorter if I could," said
+Sewell, with a smile of some significance.
+
+"I am unable to see why you could not have done so. The charge I gave
+you was to report to me, not to negotiate on your own part."
+
+"Nor did I, my Lord. Sir Brook Fossbrooke distinctly declared that he
+would only communicate with yourself personally,--that what he desired
+to say referred to yourself, and should be answered by yourself."
+
+"On hearing which, sir, you withdrew?"
+
+"So far as your Lordship was concerned, no more was said between us.
+What passed after this I may be permitted to call private."
+
+"What, sir! You see a person in _my_ house, at _my_ instance, and with
+_my_ instructions,--who comes to see and confer with _me_; and you
+have the hardihood to tell me that you took that opportunity to discuss
+questions which you call private!"
+
+"I trust, my Lord, you will not press me in this matter; my position is
+a most painful one."
+
+"It is worse than painful, sir; it is humiliating. But," added he, after
+a short pause, "I have reason to be grateful to you. You have rescued
+me from, perhaps, a very grave indiscretion. Your position--your wife's
+health--your children's welfare had all interested me. I might have--No
+matter what, sir. I have recovered the balance of my mind. I am myself
+again."
+
+"My Lord, I will be open with you."
+
+"I will accept of no forced confidences, sir," said the Judge, waving
+his hand haughtily.
+
+"They are not forced, my Lord, farther than my dislike to give you pain
+renders them so. The man to whom you sent me this morning is no stranger
+to me--would that he had been!--would that I had never known nor heard
+of him! Very few words will explain why, my Lord. I only entreat that,
+before I say them, they may be in strictest confidence between us."
+
+"If they require secrecy, sir, they shall have it."
+
+"Quite enough, my Lord,--amply sufficient for me is this assurance. This
+person, then, my Lord, was the old friend and brother officer of Sir
+Frank Dillon, my father-in-law. They lived as young men in closest
+friendship together; shared perils, amusements, and purse together. For
+many years nothing occurred to interrupt the relations between them,
+though frequent remonstrances from Dillon's family against the intimacy
+might possibly have caused a coolness; for the world had begun to talk
+of Fossbrooke with a certain distrust, comparing his mode of living with
+the amount of his fortune, and half hinting that his successes at play
+were more than accidental.
+
+"Still Dillon held to him; and to break the tie at last, his family
+procured an Indian appointment for him, and sent him to Calcutta.
+Fossbrooke no sooner heard of it than he sold off his town house and
+horses, and actually sailed in the same packet with him."
+
+"Let us sit down, Colonel Sewell; I am wearied with walking, and I
+should like to hear the remainder of this story."
+
+"I will make it very brief, my Lord. Here is a nice bench to rest on.
+Arrived in India, they commenced a style of living the most costly
+and extravagant imaginable. Their receptions, their dinners, their
+equipages, their retinues, completely eclipsed the splendors of the
+native princes. For a while these were met promptly by ready money;
+later on came bills, at first duly met, and at last dishonored. On
+investigation, however, it was found that the greater number--far the
+greater number--of the acceptances were issued by Dillon alone,--a
+circumstance which puzzled none so much as Dillon himself, who never
+remembered the emergencies that had called for them."
+
+"They were forgeries by Fossbrooke," said the Judge.
+
+"You are right, my Lord, they were, but so adroitly done that Dillon
+was the first to declare the signatures his own; nor was the fraud
+ever discovered. To rescue his friend, as it were, Dillon sold off
+everything, and paid, I know not what amount, and they both left for
+Ceylon, where Dillon was named Commander of the Forces.
+
+"Here Dillon married, and, on the birth of his first child, Fossbrooke
+was the godfather, their affection being stronger than ever. Once
+more the life of extravagance burst forth, and now, besides the costly
+household and reckless expenditure, the stories of play became rife and
+frequent, several young fellows being obliged to leave the service and
+sell their commissions to meet their debts. The scandal reached England,
+and Dillon was given his choice to resign or resume active service at
+his old rank. He accepted the last, and went back to India. For a
+while they were separated. My father-in-law made a brilliant campaign,
+concluding with the victory of Atteyghur. He was named Political
+Resident at the seat of government, and found himself in the receipt
+of a large revenue, and might in a few years have become wealthy and
+honored. His evil genius, however, was soon at his side. Fossbrooke
+arrived, as he said, to see him before leaving for Europe; he never left
+him till his death. From that day dated my father-in-law's inevitable
+ruin. Maladministration, corruption, forced loans on every side.
+Black-mail was imposed on all the chiefs, and a system of iniquity
+instituted that rendered the laws a farce, and the office of judge a
+degradation.
+
+"Driven almost to desperation by his approaching ruin, and yet blind to
+the cause of it, Sir Frank took service against the Affghans, and fell,
+severely wounded, at Walhalla. Fossbrooke followed him to the Hills,
+where he went to die. The infatuation of that fatal man was unbroken,
+and on his deathbed he not only confided to him all the deeds and
+documents that concerned his fortune, but gave him the guardianship
+and control of his daughter. In the very last letter he ever penned are
+these words: 'Scandal may some day or other dare to asperse him (Sir
+Brook),--the best have no immunity on that score,--but I charge you,
+however fortune may deal with you, share it with him if he need it;
+your father never had so true, so noble, so generous a friend. Have full
+courage in any course he approves of, and never distrust yourself so
+completely as when he differs from you; above all, believe no ill of
+him.'
+
+"I have seen this letter,--I have read it more than once; and with my
+full knowledge of the man, with my memory stored with stories about him,
+it was very hard to see him exercise an influence in my house, and a
+power over my wife. For a while I tried to respect what had been the
+faith of her childhood; I could not bear to destroy what formed one of
+the links that bound her to her father's memory; but the man's conduct
+obliged me to abandon this clemency. He insisted on living upon us,
+and living in a style not merely costly, but openly, flagrantly
+disreputable. Of his manner to myself I will not speak; he treated me
+not alone as a dependant, but as one whose character and fortune were in
+his hands. To what comments this exposed me in my own house I leave you
+to imagine: I remonstrated at first, but my endurance became exhausted,
+and I turned him from my house.
+
+"Then began his persecution of me,--not alone of myself, but my wife,
+and all belonging to me. I must not dwell on this, or I should forget
+myself.
+
+"We left India, hoping never to hear more of him. There was a story
+that he had gone on a visit to a Rajah in Oude, and would in all
+likelihood live there till he died. Imagine what I felt, my Lord, when
+I read his name on that visiting-card. I knew, of course, what his
+presence meant, a pretended matter of business with you,--the real
+object being to traduce and vilify me. He had ascertained the connection
+between us, and determined to turn it to profit. So long as I followed
+my career in India,--a poor soldier of fortune,--I was not worth
+persecution; but here at home, with friends, possibly with friends able
+and willing to aid me, I at once assumed importance in his eyes. He well
+knows how dear to us is the memory of my wife's father, what sacrifices
+we have made, what sacrifices we would make again, that his name should
+not be harshly dealt with by the world. He feels, too, all the power and
+weight he can yield by that letter of poor Dillon's, given so frankly,
+so trustfully, and so unfortunately on his deathbed. In one word, my
+Lord, this man has come back to Europe to exert over me the pressure
+which he once on a time used over my father-in-law. For reasons I cannot
+fathom, the great people who knew him once, and who ought to know whom
+and what he has become, are still willing to acknowledge him. It is true
+he no longer frequents their houses and mixes in their society,--but
+they recognize him. The very card he sent in this morning bore the
+Viceroy's name,--and from this cause alone, even if there were not
+others, he would be dangerous. I weary you, my Lord, and I will
+conclude. By an accidental admission he let drop that he would soon
+leave Ireland for a while; let it seem, my Lord, so long as he remains
+here, that I am less intimate here, less frequent as a visitor, than he
+has imagined. Let him have grounds to imagine that my presence here was
+a mere accident, and that I am not at all likely to enjoy any share of
+your Lordship's favor,--in fact, let him believe me as friendless here
+as he saw me in India, and he will cease to speculate on persecuting
+me."
+
+"There would be indignity in such a course, sir," cried the Judge,
+fiercely; "the man has no terrors for _me_."
+
+"Certainly not, my Lord, nor for me personally. I speak on my wife's
+behalf; it is for her sake and for her peace of mind I am alone thinking
+here."
+
+"I will speak to her myself on this head."
+
+"I entreat you not, my Lord. I implore you never to approach the
+subject. She has for years been torn between the terrible alternative of
+obeying the last injunctions of her father or yielding to the wishes of
+her husband. Her life has been a continual struggle, and her shattered
+health has been the consequence. No, my Lord; let us go down for a few
+weeks or months--as it may be--to this country place they have taken for
+us; a little quietness will do us both good. My leave will not expire
+till March; there is still time to look about me."
+
+"Something shall be done for you, sir," said the Judge, pompously.
+Sewell bowed low: he knew how to make his bow a very deep acknowledgment
+of gratitude; he knew the exact measure of deference and trustfulness
+and thankfulness to throw into his expression as he bent his head, while
+he seemed too much overpowered to speak.
+
+"Yes, sir, you shall be cared for," said the old man. "And if this
+person, this Sir Brook Fossbrooke, return here, it is with _me_ he will
+have to deal,--not _you_."
+
+"My Lord, I entreat you never to admit him; neither see nor correspond
+with him. The man is a desperado, and holds his own life too cheap to
+care for another's."
+
+"Sir, you only pique my curiosity to meet with him. I have heard of such
+fellows, but never saw one."
+
+"From all I have heard, my Lord, _your_ courage requires no proofs."
+
+"You have heard the truth, sir. It has been tested in every way, and
+found without alloy. This man came here a few days ago to ask me to
+nominate my grandson to an office in my gift; but, save a lesson for his
+temerity, he 'took nothing by his motion.'" The old Judge walked up and
+down with short impatient steps, his eyebrows moving fiercely, And his
+mouth twitching angrily. "The Viceroy must be taught that it is not
+through such negotiators he can treat with men like myself. We hear much
+about the dignity of the Bench. I would that his Excellency should know
+that the respect for it is a homage to be rendered by the highest as
+well as the lowest, and that I for one will accept of nothing less than
+all the honors that befit my station."
+
+Relieved, as it were, by this outburst of vanity, his heart unburdened
+of a load of self-conceit, the old man felt freer And better; and in
+the sigh he heaved there seemed a something that indicated a sense of
+alleviation. Then, turning to Sewell, with a softened voice, he said,
+"How grieved I am that you should have passed such a morning! It was
+certainly not what I had intended for you."
+
+"You are too good to me, my Lord,--far too good, and too thoughtful of
+me," said Sewell, with emotion.
+
+"I am one of those men who must go to the grave misconstrued and
+misrepresented. He who would be firm in an age of cowardice, he who
+would be just in an age of jobbery, cannot fail to be calumniated. But,
+sir, there is a moral stature, as there is a material stature, that
+requires distance for its proportions; and it is possible posterity will
+be more just to me than my contemporaries."
+
+"I would only hope, my Lord, that the time for such a judgment may be
+long deferred."
+
+"You are a courtier, sir," said the Judge, smiling. "It was amongst
+courtiers I passed my early youth, and I like them. When I was a young
+man, Colonel Sewell, it was the fashion to make the tour of Europe as a
+matter of education and good breeding. The French Court was deemed, and
+justly deemed, the first school of manners, and I firmly believe France
+herself has suffered in her forms of politeness from having ceased to
+be the centre of supply to the world. She adulterated the liquor as the
+consumers decreased in taste and increased in number."
+
+"How neatly, how admirably expressed!" said Sewell, bowing.
+
+"I had some of that gift once," said the old man, with a sigh; "but it
+is a weapon out of use nowadays. Epigram has its place in a museum now
+as rightfully as an Andrea Ferrara."
+
+"I declare, my Lord, it is two o'clock. Here is your servant coming to
+announce luncheon. I am ashamed to-think what a share of your day I have
+monopolized."
+
+"You will stay and take some mutton broth, I hope?"
+
+"No, my Lord. I never eat luncheon, and I am, besides, horrified at
+inflicting you so long already."
+
+"Sir, if I suffer many of the miseries of old age, I avail myself of
+some of its few privileges. One of the best of these is, never to be
+bored. I am old and feeble enough to be able to say to him who wearies
+me, Leave me--leave-me to myself and my own dreariness. Had you
+'inflicted' me, as you call it, I 'd have said as much two hours ago.
+Your company was, however, most agreeable. You know how to talk, and,
+what is rarer, you know how to listen."
+
+Sewell bowed respectfully and in silence.
+
+"I wish the school that trains aides-de-camp could be open to junior
+barristers and curates," muttered he, half to himself; then added aloud,
+"Come and see me soon again. Come to breakfast, or, if you prefer it, to
+dinner. We dine at seven;" and without further adieu than a slight wave
+of his hand, he turned away and entered the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. SIR BROOK IN CONFUSION
+
+Tom Lendrick had just parted with his sister as Fossbrooke came up, and,
+taking his arm in silence, moved slowly down the road.
+
+Seeing his deep preoccupation, Tom did not speak for some time, but
+walked along without a word. "I hope you found my grandfather in better
+temper, sir?" asked Tom, at last.
+
+"He refused to receive me; he pleaded illness, or rather he called it
+by its true name, indisposition. He deputed another gentleman to meet
+me,--a Colonel Sewell, his stepson."
+
+"That 's the man my father saw at the Cape; a clever sort of person he
+called him, but, I suspect, not one to his liking; too much man of the
+world,--too much man of fashion for poor Dad."
+
+"I hope so," muttered Fossbrooke, unconsciously.
+
+"Indeed, sir; and why?" asked Tom, eagerly.
+
+"What of Lucy?" said Sir Brook, abruptly; "how did you think she was
+looking?"
+
+"Well, sir, on the whole, well. I've seen her jollier; but, to be sure,
+it was a leave-taking to-day, and that's not the occasion to put one in
+high spirits. Poor girl, she said, 'Is it not hard, Tom? There are only
+three of us, and we must all live apart.'"
+
+"So it is,--hard, very hard. I 'd have tried once more to influence the
+old Judge if he 'd have given me a meeting. He may do worse with that
+office than bestow it on you, Tom. I believe I'd have told him as much."
+
+"It's perhaps as well, sir, that you did not see him," said Tom, with a
+faint smile.
+
+"Yes," said Fossbrooke, following along the train of his own thoughts,
+and not noticing the other's remark. "He may do worse; he may give it
+to _him_, and thus draw closer the ties between them; and if _that_ man
+once gets admission there, he'll get influence."
+
+"Of whom are you talking, sir?"
+
+"I was not speaking, Tom. I was turning over some things in my mind. By
+the way, we have much to do before evening. Go over to Hodgen's about
+those tools; he has not sent them yet: and the blasting-powder, too, has
+not come down. I ought, if I could manage the time, to test it; but it
+'s too late. I must go to the Castle for five minutes,--five minutes
+will do it; and I 'll pass by Grainger's on my way back, and buy the
+flannel--miners' flannel they call it in the advertisement. We must look
+our _metier_, Tom, eh? You told Lucy where to write, and how to address
+us, I hope?"
+
+"Yes, sir, she wrote it down. By the way, that reminds me of a letter
+she gave me for you. It was addressed to her care, and came yesterday."
+
+The old man thrust it in his pocket without so much as a look at it.
+
+"I think the post-mark was Madeira," said Tom, to try and excite some
+curiosity.
+
+"Possibly. I have correspondents everywhere."
+
+"It looked like Trafford's writing, I thought."
+
+"Indeed! let us see;" and he drew forth the letter, and broke the
+envelope. "Right enough, Tom,--it is Trafford."
+
+He ran his eyes rapidly over the first lines, turned to the next side,
+and then to the end of the letter, and then once more began at the
+beginning.
+
+"This is his third attempt, he says, to reach me, having written twice
+without any acknowledgment; hence he has taken the liberty--and a very
+great liberty too--to address the present to the care of your sister.
+His brother died in March last, and the younger brother has now shown
+symptoms of the same malady, and has been sent out to Madeira. 'I could
+not,' he writes,--'I could not refuse to come out here with him, however
+eager I was to go to Ireland. You can well believe,'"--here the old
+man slurred over the words, and murmured inaudibly for some seconds. "I
+see," added he at last, "he has gone back to his old regiment, with good
+hopes of the majority. 'Hinks is sick of the service, and quite willing
+to leave. Harvey, however, stands above me, and deems it a cruel thing
+to be passed over. I must have your advice about this, as well as
+about--'" Here again he dropped his voice and mumbled unintelligibly.
+At length he read on: "'What is Tom doing? What a shame it would be if a
+fellow with such abilities should not make his way!'"
+
+"A crying shame," burst in Tom, "but I neither see the abilities nor the
+way; would he kindly indicate how to find either or both?"
+
+"'My mother suggested,'" read on Sir Brook, "'two or three things which
+my father could readily obtain, but you know the price of the promotion;
+you know what I would have to--'" Here, once more, the old man stopped
+abruptly.
+
+"Pray go on, sir," cried Tom, eagerly; "this interests me much, and as
+it touches myself I have half a claim to hear it."
+
+Sir Brook gave no heed to the request, but read on in silence and to
+himself. Turning to the last page, he said: "'I may then hope to be
+in England by the end of the month. I shall not go down to Holt, but
+straight to Dublin. My leave will expire on the 28th, and this will give
+me a good excuse for not going home. I am sure you will agree with me
+that I am doing the right thing.
+
+"'If I am fortunate enough to meet you in Dublin, I can ask your advice
+on many things which press for solution; but if you should have left
+Ireland and gone heaven knows where, what is to become of me?'"
+
+"Got into debt again, evidently," said Tom, as he puffed his cigar.
+
+"Nothing of the kind. I know thoroughly what he alludes to, though I am
+not at liberty to speak of it. He wishes me to leave our address with
+Colonel Cave at the barracks, and that if we should have left Ireland
+already, he 'll try and manage a month's leave, and pay us a visit."
+
+"I declare I guessed that!" burst out Tom. "I had a dread of it, from
+the very day we first planned our project. I said to myself, So sure as
+we settle down to work,--to work like men who have no thought but how to
+earn their bread,--some lavender-gloved fellow, with a dressing-case
+and three hat-boxes, will drop down to disgust us alike with our own
+hardships and _his_ foppery."
+
+"He'll not come," said Sir Brook, calmly; "and if he should, he will be
+welcome."
+
+"Oh! as to that," stammered out Tom, somewhat ashamed of his late
+warmth, "Trafford is perhaps the one exception to the sort of thing I am
+afraid of. He is a fine, manly, candid fellow, with no affectations nor
+any pretensions."
+
+"A gentleman, sir,--just a gentleman, and of a very good type."
+
+The last few lines of the letter were small and finely written, and cost
+the old man some time to decipher. At last he read them aloud. "'Am I
+asking what you would see any objection to accord me, if I entreat you
+to give me some letter of introduction or presentation to the Chief
+t Baron? I presume that you know him; and I presume that he might not
+refuse to know _me_. It is possible I may be wrong in either or both
+of these assumptions. I am sure you will be frank in your reply to
+this request of mine, and say No, if you dislike to say Yes. I made the
+acquaintance of Colonel Sewell, the Judge's step-son, at the Cape; but
+I suspect--I may be wrong--but I suspect that to be presented by
+the Colonel might not be the smoothest road to his Lordship's
+acquaintance,--I was going to write "favor," but I have no pretension,
+as yet at least, to aspire that far.'
+
+"'The Colonel himself told me that his mother and Sir William never met
+without a quarrel. His affectionate remark was that the Chief Baron was
+the only creature in Europe whose temper was worse than Lady Lendrick's,
+and it would be a blessing to humanity if they could be induced to live
+together.
+
+"'I saw a good deal of the Se wells at the Cape. She is charming! She
+was a Dillon, and her mother a Lascelles, some forty-fifth cousin of my
+mother's,--quite enough of relationship, however, to excuse a very rapid
+intimacy, so that I dined there when I liked, and uninvited. I did not
+like _him_ so well; but then he beat me at billiards, and always won my
+money at _ecarte_, and of course these are detracting ingredients which
+ought not to be thrown into the scale.
+
+"'How she sings! I don't know how you, with your rapturous love of
+music, would escape falling in love with her: all the more that she
+seems to me one who expects that sort of homage, and thinks herself
+defrauded if denied it. If the Lord Chief Baron is fond of ballads, he
+has been her captive this many a day.
+
+"'My love to Tom, if with you or within reach of you; and believe me,
+ever yours affectionately,--Lionel Trafford.'"
+
+"It was the eldest son who died," said Tom, carelessly.
+
+"Yes, the heir. Lionel now succeeds to a splendid fortune and the
+baronetcy."
+
+"He told me once that his father had made some sort of compact with his
+eldest son about cutting off the entail, in case he should desire to do
+it. In fact, he gave me to understand that he was n't a favorite with
+his father, and that, if by any course of events he were likely to
+succeed to the estate, it was more than probable his father would use
+this power, and merely leave him what he could not alienate,--a very
+small property that pertained to the baronetage."
+
+"With reference to what did he make this revelation to you? What had you
+been talking of?"
+
+"I scarcely remember. I think it was about younger sons,--how hardly
+they were treated, and how unfairly."
+
+"Great hardship truly that a man must labor! not to say that there
+is not a single career in life he can approach without bringing to it
+greater advantages than befall humbler men,--a better and more liberal
+education, superior habits as regards society, powerful friends, and
+what in a country like ours is inconceivably effective,--the prestige of
+family. I cannot endure this compassionate tone about younger sons. To
+my thinking they have the very best opening that life can offer, if they
+be men to profit by it; and if they are not, I care very little what
+becomes of them."
+
+"I do think it hard that my elder brother should have fortune and wealth
+to over-abundance, while my pittance will scarcely keep me in cigars."
+
+"You have no right, sir, to think of his affluence. It is not in
+the record; the necessities of your position have no-relation to his
+superfluities. Bethink you of yourself, and if cigars are too expensive
+for you, smoke cavendish. Trafford was full of this cant about the
+cruelty of primogeniture, but I would have none of it. Whenever a man
+tells me that he deems it a hardship that he should do anything for his
+livelihood, I leave him, and hope never to see more of him."
+
+"Trafford surely did not say so."
+
+"No,--certainly not; there would have been no correspondence between us
+if he had. But I want to see these young fellows showing the world that
+they shrink from no competitorship with any. They have long proved that
+to confront danger and meet death they are second to none. Let me show
+that in other qualities they admit of no inferiority,--that they are as
+ready for enterprise, as well able to stand cold and hunger and thirst,
+to battle with climate and disease. _I_ know well they can do it, but I
+want the world to know it."
+
+"As to intellectual distinctions," said Tom, "I think they are the
+equals of any. The best man in Trinity in my day was a fellow-commoner."
+
+This speech seemed to restore the old man to his best humor. He slapped
+young Lendrick familiarly on the shoulder and said: "It would be a grand
+thing, Tom, if we could extend the application of that old French adage,
+'noblesse oblige,' and make it apply to every career in life and every
+success. Come along down this street; I want to buy some nails,--we can
+take them home with us."
+
+They soon made their purchases; and each, armed with a considerably
+sized brown-paper parcel, issued from the shop,--the old man eagerly
+following up the late theme, and insisting on all the advantages good
+birth and blood conferred, and what a grand resource was the gentleman
+element in moments of pressure and temptation.
+
+"His Excellency wishes to speak to you, sir," said a footman,
+respectfully standing hat in hand before him "The carriage is over the
+way."
+
+Sir Brook nodded an assent, and then, turning to Torn, said, "Have
+the kindness to hold this for me for a moment; I will not detain you
+longer;" and placing in young Lendrick's hands a good-sized parcel, he
+stepped across the street, totally forgetting that over his left arm,
+the hand of which was in his pocket, a considerable coil of strong rope
+depended, being one of his late purchases. As he drew nigh the carriage,
+he made a sign that implied defeat; and mortified as the Viceroy was
+at the announcement, he could not help smiling at the strange guise in
+which the old man presented himself.
+
+"And how so, Fossbrooke?" asked he, in answer to the other's signal.
+
+"Simply, he would not see me, my Lord. Our first meeting had apparently
+left no very agreeable memories of me, and he scarcely cared to
+cultivate an acquaintance that opened so inauspiciously."
+
+"But you sent him your card with my name?"
+
+"Yes; and his reply was to depute another gentleman to receive me and
+take my communication."
+
+"Which you refused, of course, to make?"
+
+"Which I refused."
+
+"Do you incline to suppose that the Chief Baron guessed the object of
+your visit?"
+
+"I have no means of arriving at that surmise, my Lord. His refusal of me
+was so peremptory that it left me no clew to any guess."
+
+"Was the person deputed to receive you one with whom it was at all
+possible to indicate such an intimation of your business as might convey
+to the Chief Baron the necessity of seeing you?"
+
+"Quite the reverse, my Lord; he was one with whom, from previous
+knowledge, I could hold little converse."
+
+"Then there is, I fear, nothing to be done."
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Except to thank you heartily, my dear Fossbrooke, and ask you once
+more, why are you going away?"
+
+"I told you last night I was going to make a fortune. I have--to my own
+astonishment I own it--begun to feel that narrow means are occasionally
+most inconvenient; that they limit a man's action in so many ways that
+he comes at last to experience a sort of slavery; and instead of chafing
+against this, I am resolved to overcome it, and become rich."
+
+"I hope, with all my heart, you may. There is no man whom wealth will
+more become, or who will know how to dispense it more reputably."
+
+"Why, we have gathered a crowd around us, my Lord," said Fossbrooke,
+looking to right and left, where now a number of people had gathered,
+attracted by the Viceroy's presence, but still more amused by the
+strange-looking figure with the hank of rope over his arm, who
+discoursed so freely with his Excellency. "This is one of the penalties
+of greatness, I take it," continued he. "It's your Excellency's Collar
+of St. Patrick costs you these attentions--"
+
+"I rather suspect it's _your 'grand cordon_,' Fossbrooke," said the
+Viceroy, laughing, while he pointed to the rope.
+
+"Bless my stars!" exclaimed Sir Brook, blushing deeply, "how forgetful I
+am growing! I hope you forgive me. I am sure you could not suppose--"
+
+"I could never think anything but good of you, Fossbrooke. Get in, and
+come out to 'the Lodge' to dinner."
+
+"No, no; impossible. I am heartily ashamed of myself. I grow worse
+and worse every day; people will lose patience at last, and cut me;
+good-bye."
+
+"Wait one moment. I want to ask you something about young Lendrick.
+Would he take an appointment in a colonial regiment? Would he--" But
+Fossbrooke had elbowed his way through the dense crowd by this time, and
+was far out of hearing,--shocked with himself, and overwhelmed with the
+thought that in his absurd forgetfulness he might have involved another
+in ridicule.
+
+"Think of me standing talking to his Excellency with this on my arm,
+Tom!" said he, flushing with shame and annoyance: "how these absent
+fits keep advancing on me! When a man begins to forget himself in this
+fashion, the time is not very distant when his friends will be glad to
+forget him. I said so this moment to Lord Wilmington, and I am afraid
+that he agreed with me. Where are the screws, Tom,--have I been
+forgetting them also?"
+
+"No, sir, I have them here; the holdfasts were not finished, but
+they will be sent over to us this evening, along with the cramps you
+ordered."
+
+"So, then, my head was clear so far," cried he, with a smile. "In my
+prosperous days, Tom, these freaks of mine were taken as good jokes,
+and my friends laughed at them over my Burgundy; but when a man has
+no longer Burgundy to wash down his blunders with, it is strange how
+different becomes the criticism, and how much more candid the critic."
+
+"So that, in point of enlightenment, sir, it is better to be poor."
+
+"It is what I was just going to observe to you," said he, calmly. "Can
+you give me a cigar?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE TWO LUCYS
+
+Within a week after this incident, while Fossbrooke and young Lendrick
+were ploughing the salt sea towards their destination, Lucy sat in her
+room one morning engaged in drawing. She was making a chalk copy from
+a small photograph her brother had sent her, a likeness of Sir Brook,
+taken surreptitiously as he sat smoking at a window, little heeding or
+knowing of the advantage thus taken of him.
+
+The head was considerably advanced, the brow and the eyes were nearly
+finished, and she was trying for the third time to get an expression
+into the mouth which the photograph had failed to convey, but which she
+so often observed in the original. Eagerly intent on her work, she never
+heard the door open behind her, and was slightly startled as a very
+gentle hand was laid on her shoulder.
+
+"Is this a very presumptuous step of mine, dear Lucy?" said Mrs. Sewell,
+with one of her most bewitching smiles: "have I your leave for coming in
+upon you in this fashion?"
+
+"Of course you have, my dear Mrs. Sewell; it is a great pleasure to me
+to see you here."
+
+"And I may take off my bonnet and my shawl and my gloves and my company
+manner, as my husband calls it?"
+
+"Oh! _you_ have no company manner," broke in Lucy.
+
+"I used to think not; but men are stern critics, darling, and especially
+when they are husbands. You will find out, one of these days, how neatly
+your liege lord will detect every little objectionable trait in
+your nature, and with what admirable frankness he will caution you
+against--yourself."
+
+"I almost think I 'd rather he would not."
+
+"I 'm very certain of it, Lucy," said the other, with greater firmness
+than before. "The thing we call love in married life has an
+existence only a little beyond that of the bouquet you carried to the
+wedding-breakfast; and it would be unreasonable in a woman to expect
+it, but she might fairly ask for courtesy and respect, and you would
+be amazed how churlish even gentlemen can become about expending these
+graces in their own families."
+
+Lucy was both shocked and astonished at what she heard, and the grave
+tone in which the words were uttered surprised her most of all.
+
+Mrs. Sewell had by this time taken off her bonnet and shawl, and,
+pushing back her luxuriant hair from her forehead, looked as though
+suffering from headache, for her brows were contracted, and the orbits
+around her eyes dark and purple-looking.
+
+"You are not quite well to-day," said Lucy, as she sat down on the sofa
+beside her, and took her hand.
+
+"About as well as I ever am," said she, sighing; and then, as if
+suddenly recollecting herself, added, "India makes such an inroad on
+health and strength! No buoyancy of temperament ever resisted that fatal
+climate. You would n't believe it, Lucy, but I was once famed for high
+spirits."
+
+"I can well believe it."
+
+"It was, however, very long ago. I was little more than a child at the
+time--that is, I was about fourteen or fifteen--when I left England, to
+which I returned in my twentieth year. I went back very soon afterwards
+to nurse my poor father, and be married."
+
+The depth of sadness in which she spoke the last words made the silence
+that followed intensely sad and gloomy.
+
+"Yes," said she, with a deep melancholy smile, "papa called me madcap.
+Oh dear, if our fathers and mothers could look back from that eternity
+they have gone to, and see how the traits they traced in our childhood
+have saddened and sobered down into sternest features, would they
+recognize us as their own? I don't look like a madcap now, Lucy, do
+I?" As she said this, her eyes swam in tears, and her lip trembled
+convulsively. Then standing hastily up, she drew nigh the table, and
+leaned over to look at the drawing at which Lucy had been engaged.
+
+"What!" cried she, with almost a shriek,--"what is this? Whose portrait
+is this? Tell me at once; who is it?"
+
+"A very dear friend of mine and of Tom's. One you could not have ever
+met, I'm sure."
+
+"And how do you know whom I have met?" cried she, fiercely. "What can
+you know of my life and my associates?"
+
+"I said so, because he is one who has lived long estranged from the
+world," said Lucy, gently; for in the sudden burst of the other's
+passion she only saw matter for deep compassion. It was but another part
+of a nature torn and distracted by unceasing anxieties.
+
+"But his name,--his name?" said Mrs. Sewell, wildly.
+
+"His name is Sir Brook Fossbrooke."
+
+"I knew it, I knew it!" cried she, wildly,--"I knew it!" and said it
+over and over again. "Go where we will we shall find him. He haunts;
+us like a curse,--like a curse!" And it was in almost a shriek the last
+word came forth.
+
+"You cannot know the man if you say this of him," said Lucy, firmly.
+
+"Not know him!--not know him! You will tell me next that I do not know
+myself,--not know my own name,--not know the life of bitterness I have
+lived,--the shame of it,--the ineffable shame of it!" and she threw
+herself on her face on the sofa, and sobbed convulsively. Long and
+anxiously did Lucy try all in her power to comfort and console her. She
+poured out her whole heart in pledges of sisterly love and affection.
+She assured her of a sympathy that would never desert her; and, last
+of all, she told her that her judgment of Sir Brook was a mistaken
+one,--that in the world there lived not one more true-hearted, more
+generous, or more noble.
+
+"And where did you learn all this, young woman?" said the other,
+passionately. "In what temptations and trials of your life have these
+experiences been gained? Oh, don't be angry with me, dearest Lucy;
+forgive this rude speech of mine; my head is turning, and I know not
+what I say. Tell me, child, did this man speak to you of my husband?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Nor of myself?"
+
+"Not a word. I don't believe he was aware that we were related to each
+other."
+
+"He not aware? Why, it's his boast that he knows every one and every
+one's connections. You never heard him speak without this parade of
+universal acquaintanceship. But why did he come here? How did you happen
+to meet him?"
+
+"By the merest accident. Tom found him one day fishing the river close
+to our house, and they got to talk together; and it ended by his
+coming to us to tea. Intimacy followed very quickly, and then a close
+friendship."
+
+"And do you mean to tell me that all this while he never alluded to us?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"This is so unlike him,--so unlike him," muttered she, half to herself.
+"And the last place you saw him,--where was it?"
+
+"Here in this house."
+
+"Here! Do you mean that he came here to see you?"
+
+"No; he had some business with grandpapa, and called one morning, but
+he was not received. Grandpapa was not well, and sent Colonel Sewell to
+meet him."
+
+"He sent my husband! And did he go?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are you sure of that?"
+
+"I know it."
+
+"I never heard of this," said she, holding her hands to her temples.
+"About what time was it?"
+
+"It was on Friday last. I remember the day, because it was the last time
+I saw poor Tom."
+
+"On Friday last," said she, pondering. "Yes, you are right. I do
+remember that Friday;" and she drew up the sleeve of her dress, and
+looked at a dark-blue mark upon the fair white skin of her arm; but so
+hastily was the action done that Lucy did not remark it.
+
+"It was on Friday morning. It was on the forenoon of Friday, was it
+not?"
+
+"Yes. The clock struck one, I remember, as I got back to the house."
+
+"Tell me, Lucy," said she in a caressing tone, as she drew her arm round
+the girl's waist,--"tell me, darling, how did Colonel Sewell look after
+that interview? Did he seem angry or irritated? I'll tell you why I
+ask this some other time,--but I want to know if he seemed vexed or
+chagrined by meeting this man."
+
+"I did not see him after; he went away almost immediately after Sir
+Brook. I heard his voice talking with grandpapa in the garden, but I
+went to my room, and we did not meet."
+
+"As they spoke in the garden, were their voices raised? Did they talk
+like men excited or in warmth?"
+
+"Yes. Their tone and manner were what you say,--so much so that I went
+away, not to overhear them. Grandpapa, I know, was angry at something;
+and when we met at luncheon, he barely spoke to me."
+
+"And what conclusion did you draw from all this?"
+
+"None! There was nothing to induce me to dwell on the circumstance;
+besides," added she, with some irritation, "I am not given to reason
+upon the traits of people's manner, or their tone in speaking."
+
+"Nor perhaps accustomed to inquire, when your grandfather is vexed, what
+it is that has irritated him."
+
+"Certainly not. It is a liberty I should not dare to take."
+
+"Well, darling," said she, with a saucy laugh, "he is more fortunate in
+having _you_ for a granddaughter than me. I 'm afraid I should have less
+discretion,--at all events, less dread."
+
+"Don't be so sure of that," said Lucy, quietly. "Grandpapa is no
+common person. It is not his temper but his talent that one is loath to
+encounter."
+
+"I do not suspect that either would terrify me greatly. As the soldiers
+say, Lucy, I have been under fire pretty often, and I don't mind it now.
+Do you know, child, that we have got into a most irritable tone with
+each other? Each of us is saying something that provokes a sharp reply,
+and we are actually sparring without knowing it."
+
+"I certainly did not know it," said Lucy, taking her hand within both
+her own, "and I ask pardon if I have said anything to hurt you."
+
+Leaving her hand to Lucy unconsciously, and not heeding one word of what
+she had said, Mrs. Sewell sat with her eyes fixed on the floor deep in
+thought. "I 'm sure, Lucy," said she at last, "I don't know why I asked
+you all those questions awhile ago. That man--Sir Brook, I mean--is
+nothing to me; he ought to be, but he is not. My father and he were
+friends; that is, my father thought he was his friend, and left him the
+guardianship of me on his deathbed."
+
+"Your guardian,--Sir Brook your guardian?" cried Lucy, with intense
+eagerness.
+
+"Yes; with more power than the law, I believe, would accord to any
+guardian." She paused and seemed lost in thought for some seconds, and
+then went on: "Colonel Sewell and he never liked each other. Sir Brook
+took little trouble to be liked by him; perhaps Dudley was as careless
+on his side. What a tiresome vein I have got in! How should _you_ care
+for all this?"
+
+"But I do care--I care for all that concerns you."
+
+"I take it, if you were to hear Sir Brook's account, we should not make
+a more brilliant figure than himself. He 'd tell you about our mode of
+life, and high play, and the rest of it; but, child, every one plays
+high in India, every one does scores of things there they would n't
+do at home, partly because the _ennui_ of life tempts to
+anything,--anything that would relieve it; and then all are tolerant
+because all are equally--I was going to say wicked; but I don't mean
+wickedness,--I mean bored to that degree that there is no stimulant left
+without a breach of the decalogue."
+
+"I think that might be called wickedness," said Lucy, dryly.
+
+"Call it what you like, only take my word for it you 'd do the selfsame
+things if you lived there. I was pretty much what you are now when I
+left England; and if any naughty creature like myself were to talk, as
+I am doing to you now, and make confession of all her misdeeds and
+misfortunes, I'm certain I'd have known how to bridle up and draw away
+my hand, and retire to a far end of the sofa, and look unutterable
+pruderies, just as you do this moment."
+
+"Without ever suspecting it, certainly," said Lucy laughing.
+
+"Tear up that odious drawing, dear Lucy," said she, rising and walking
+the room with impatience. "Tear it up; or, if you won't do that, let me
+write a line under it--one line, I ask for no more--so that people may
+know at whom they are looking."
+
+"I will do neither; nor will I sit here to listen to one word against
+him."
+
+"Which means, child, that your knowledge of life is so-much greater than
+mine, you can trust implicitly to your own judgment. I can admire your
+courage, certainly, though I am not captivated by your prudence."
+
+"It is because I have so little faith in my own judgment that I am
+unwilling to lose the friend who can guide me."
+
+"Perhaps it would be unsafe if I were to ask you to choose between _him_
+and me," said Mrs. Sewell, very slowly, and with her eyes fully bent on
+Lucy.
+
+"I hope you will not."
+
+"With such a warning I certainly shall not do so. Who-could have
+believed it was so late?" said she, hastily looking at her watch;
+"What a seductive creature you must be, child, to slip over one's whole
+morning without knowing it,--two o'clock already. You lunch about this
+time?"
+
+"Yes, punctually at two."
+
+"Are you sufficiently lady of the house to invite me, Lucy?"
+
+"I am sure _you_ need no invitation here; you are one of us."
+
+"What a little Jesuit it is!" said Mrs. Sewell, patting her cheek.
+"Come, child, I 'll be equal with you. I 'll enter the room on your arm,
+and say, 'Sir William, your granddaughter insisted on my remaining; I
+thought it an awkwardness, but she tells me she is the mistress here,
+and I obey.'"
+
+"And you will find he will be too well-bred to contradict you," said
+Lucy, while a deep blush covered her face and throat.
+
+"Oh, I think him positively charming!" said Mrs. Sewell, as she arranged
+her hair before the glass; "I think him charming. My mother-in-law and
+I have a dozen pitched battles every day on the score of his temper and
+his character. _My_ theory is, the only intolerable thing on earth is
+a fool; and whether it be that Lady Lendrick suspects me of any secret
+intention to designate one still nearer to her by this reservation, I
+do not know, but the declaration drives her half crazy. Come, Lucy, we
+shall be keeping grandpapa waiting for us."
+
+They moved down the stairs arm-in-arm, without a word; but as they
+gained the door of the dining-room, Mrs. Sewell turned fully round
+and said, in a low deep voice, "Marry anything,--rake, gambler,
+villain,--anything, the basest and the blackest; but never take a fool,
+for a fool means them all combined."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE NEST WITH STRANGE "BIRDS" IN IT
+
+To the Swan's Nest, very differently tenanted from what we saw it at
+the opening of our story, we have now to conduct our reader. Its present
+occupant--"the acquisition to any neighborhood," as the house-agent
+styled him--was Colonel Sewell.
+
+Lady Lendrick had taken the place for her son on finding that Sir
+William would not extend his hospitality to him. She had taken the
+precaution not merely to pay a year's rent in advance, but to make a
+number of changes in the house and its dependencies, which she hoped
+might render the residence more palatable to him, and reconcile him in
+some degree to its isolation and retirement.
+
+The Colonel was, however, one of those men--they are numerous enough
+in this world--who canvass the mouth of the gift-horse, and have few
+scruples in detecting the signs of his age. He criticised the whole
+place with a most commendable frankness. It was a "pokey little hole."
+It was dark; it was low-ceilinged. It was full of inconveniences.
+The furniture was old-fashioned. You had to mount two steps into the
+drawing-room and go down three into the dining-room. He had to cross
+a corridor to his bath-room, and there was a great Tudor window in the
+small breakfast-parlor, that made one feel as if sitting in a lantern.
+
+As for the stables, "he would n't put a donkey into them." No light,
+no ventilation,--no anything, in short. To live surrounded with so many
+inconveniences was the most complete assertion of his fallen condition,
+and, as he said, "he had never realized his fall in the world till he
+settled down in that miserable Nest."
+
+There are men whose especial delight it is to call your attention to
+their impaired condition, their threadbare coat, their patched shoes,
+their shabby equipage, or their sorry dwelling, as though they were
+framing a sort of indictment against Fate, and setting forth the
+hardships of persons of merit like them being subjected to this
+unjustifiable treatment by Fortune.
+
+"I suppose you never thought to see me reduced to this," is the burden
+of their song; and it is very strange how, by mere repetition and
+insistence, these people establish for themselves a sort of position,
+and oblige the world to yield them a black-mail of respect and
+condolence.
+
+"This was not the sort of tipple I used to set before you once on a
+time, old fellow," will be uttered by one of whose hospitalities you
+have never partaken. "It was another guess sort of beast I gave you for
+a mount when we met last," will be said by a man who never rose above
+a cob pony; and one is obliged to yield a kind of polite assent to such
+balderdash, or stand forward as a public prosecutor and arraign the
+rascal for a humbug.
+
+In this self-commiseration Sewell was a master, and there was not
+a corner of the house he did not make the butt of his ridicule,--to
+contrast its littleness and vulgarity with the former ways and
+belongings of his own once splendor.
+
+"You're capital fellows," said he to a party of officers from the
+neighboring garrison, "to come and see me in this dog-hole. Try and find
+a chair you can sit on, and I 'll ask my wife if we can give you some
+dinner. You remember me up at Rangoon, Hobbes? Another guess sort of
+place, wasn't it? I had the Rajah's palace and four elephants at my
+orders. At Guzerat, too, I was the Resident, and, by Jove, I never
+dreamed of coming down to this!"
+
+Too indolent or too indifferent to care where or how she was lodged, his
+wife gave no heed to his complaints, beyond a little half-supercilious
+smile as he uttered them. "If a fellow will marry, however, he deserves
+it all," was his usual wind-up to all his lamentations; and in this he
+seemed to console himself by the double opportunity of pitying himself
+and insulting his wife.
+
+All that Colonel Cave and his officers could say in praise of the spot,
+its beauty, its neatness, and its comfort, were only fresh aliment to
+his depreciation, and he more than half implied that possibly the place
+was quite good enough for _them_, but that was not exactly the question
+at issue.
+
+Some men go through life permitted to say scores of things for which
+their neighbor would be irrevocably cut and excluded from society.
+Either that the world is amused at their bitterness, or that it is
+regarded as a malady, far worse to him who bears than to him who
+witnesses it,--whatever the reason,--people endure these men, and make
+even a sort of vicious pets of them. Sewell was of this order, and a
+fine specimen too.
+
+All the men around him were his equals in every respect, and yet there
+was not one of them who did not accept a position of quiet, unresisting
+inferiority to him for the sake of his bad temper and his bad tongue. It
+was "his way," they said, and they bore it.
+
+He was a consummate adept in all the details of a household; and his
+dinners were perfection, his wine good, and his servants drilled to
+the very acme of discipline. These were not mean accessories to any
+pretension; and as they sat over their claret, a pleasanter and more
+social tone succeeded than the complaining spirit of their host had at
+first promised.
+
+The talk was chiefly professional. Pipeclay will ever assert its
+pre-eminence, and with reason, for it is a grand leveller; and Digges,
+who joined three months ago, may have the Army List as well by heart
+as the oldest major in the service: and so they discussed, Where was
+Hobson? what made Jobson sell out? how did Bobson get out of that scrape
+with the paymaster? and how long will Dobson be able to live at his
+present rate in that light-cavalry corps? Everything that fell from them
+showed the most thorough intimacy with the condition, the fortune, and
+the prospects of the men they discussed,--familiarity there was enough
+of, but no friendship. No one seemed to trouble himself whether the
+sick-leave or the sell-out meant hopeless calamity,--all were dashed
+with a species of well-bred fatalism that was astonished with nothing,
+rejoiced at nothing, repined at nothing.
+
+"I wish Trafford would make up his mind!" cried one. "Three weeks ago he
+told me positively he would leave, and now I hear he offered Craycroft
+three thousand pounds to retire from the majority."
+
+"That 's true; Craycroft told me so himself; but old Joe is a wily bird,
+and he 'll not be taken so easily."
+
+"He's an eldest son now!" broke in another. "What does he care whether
+he be called major or captain?"
+
+"An eldest son!" cried Sewell, suddenly; "how is that? When I met him at
+the Cape, he spoke of an elder brother."
+
+"So he had, then, but he's 'off the hooks.'"
+
+"I don't think it matters much," said the Colonel. "The bulk of the
+property is disentailed, and Sir Hugh can leave it how he likes."
+
+"That's what I call downright shameful," said one; but he was the
+minority, for a number of voices exclaimed,--"And perfectly right; that
+law of primogeniture is a positive barbarism."
+
+While the dispute waxed warm and noisy, Sewell questioned the Colonel
+closely about Trafford,--how it happened that the entail was removed,
+and why there was reason to suppose that Sir Hugh and his son were not
+on terms of friendship.
+
+Cave was frank enough when he spoke of the amount of the fortune and the
+extent of the estate, but used a careful caution in speaking of family
+matters, merely hinting that Trafford had gone very fast, spent a deal
+of money, had his debts twice paid by his father, and was now rather
+in the position of a reformed spendthrift, making a good character for
+prudence and economy.
+
+"And where is he?--not in Ireland?" asked Se well, eagerly.
+
+"No; he is to join on Monday. I got a hurried note from him this
+morning, dated Holyhead. You said you had met him?"
+
+"Yes, at the Cape; he used to come and dine with us there occasionally."
+
+"Did you like him?"
+
+"In a way. Yes, I think he was a nice fellow,--that is, he might be made
+a nice fellow, but it was always a question into what hands he fell; he
+was at the same time pliant and obstinate. He would always imitate,--he
+would never lead. So he seemed to me; but, to tell you the truth, I left
+him a good deal to the women; he was too young and too fresh for a man
+like myself."
+
+"You are rather hard on him," said Cave, laughing; "but you are partly
+right. He has, however, fine qualities,--he is generous and trustful to
+any extent."
+
+"Indeed!" said Sewell, carelessly, as he bit off the end of a cigar.
+
+"Nothing would make him swerve from his word; and if placed in a
+difficulty where a friend was involved, his own interests would be the
+last he 'd think of."
+
+"Very fine, all that. Are you drinking claret?--if so, finish that
+decanter, and let's have a fresh bottle."
+
+Cave declined to take more wine, and he arose, with the rest, to repair
+to the drawing-room for coffee.
+
+It was not very usual for Sewell to approach his wife or notice her in
+society; now, however, he drew a chair near her as she sat at the fire,
+and in a low whisper said, "I have some pleasant news for you."
+
+"Indeed!" she said coldly,--"what a strange incident!"
+
+"You mean it is a strange channel for pleasant news to come through,
+perhaps," said he, with a curl of his lip.
+
+"Possibly that is what I meant," said she, as quietly as before.
+
+"None of these fine-lady airs with me, Madam," said he, reddening with
+anger; "there are no two people in Europe ought to understand each other
+better than we do."
+
+"In that I quite agree with you."
+
+"And as such is the case, affectations are clean thrown away, Madam; we
+_can_ have no disguises for each other."
+
+A very slight inclination of her head seemed to assent to this remark,
+but she did not speak.
+
+"We came to plain speaking many a day ago," said he, with increased
+bitterness in his tone. "I don't see why we are to forego the advantage
+of it now,--do you?"
+
+"By no means. Speak as plainly as you wish; I am quite ready to hear
+you."
+
+"You have managed, however, to make people observe us," muttered he,
+between his teeth,--"it's an old trick of yours, Madam. You can play
+martyr at the shortest notice." He rose hastily and moved to another
+part of the room, where a very noisy group were arranging a party for
+pool at billiards.
+
+"Won't you have me?" cried Sewell, in his ordinary tone. "I'm a perfect
+boon at pool; for I am the most unlucky dog in everything."
+
+"I scarcely think you'll expect us to believe _that_," said Cave, with a
+glance of unmistakable admiration towards Mrs. Sewell.
+
+"Ay," cried Sewell, fiercely, and answering the unspoken
+sentiment,--"ay, sir, and _that_,"--he laid a stern emphasis on the
+word,--"and _that_ the worst luck of all."
+
+"I 've been asking Mrs. Sewell to play a game with us, and she says she
+has no objections," said a young subaltern, "if Colonel Sewell does not
+dislike it."
+
+"I'll play whist, then," said Sewell. "Who 'll make a rubber?--Cave,
+will you? Here's Houghton and Mowbray,--eh?"
+
+"No, no," said Mowbray,--"you are all too good for me."
+
+"How I hate that,--too good for me," said Sewell. "Why, man, what
+better investment could you ask for your money than the benefit of good
+teaching? Always ride with the best hounds, play with the best players,
+talk with the best talkers."
+
+"And make love to the prettiest women," added Cave, in a whisper, as
+Mowbray followed Mrs. Sewell into the billiard-room.
+
+"I heard you, Cave," whispered Sewell, in a still lower whisper;
+"there's devilish little escapes my ears, I promise you." The bustle and
+preparation of the card-table served in part to cover Cave's confusion,
+but his cheek tingled and his hand shook with mingled shame and
+annoyance.
+
+Sewell saw it all, and knew how to profit by it. He liked high play,
+to which Cave generally objected; but he well knew that on the present
+occasion Cave would concur in anything to cover his momentary sense of
+shame.
+
+"Pounds and fives, I suppose," said Sewell; and the others bowed, and
+the game began.
+
+As little did Cave like three-handed whist, but he was in no mood to
+oppose anything; for, like many men who have made an awkward speech, he
+exaggerated the meaning through his fears, and made it appear absolutely
+monstrous to himself.
+
+"Whatever you like," was therefore his remark; and he sat down to the
+game.
+
+Sewell was a skilled player; but the race is no more to the swift in
+cards than in anything else,--he lost, and lost heavily. He undervalued
+his adversaries too, and, in consequence, he followed up his bad luck
+by increased wagers. Cave tried to moderate the ardor he displayed,
+and even remonstrated with him on the sums they were staking, which, he
+good-humoredly remarked, were far above his own pretensions; but
+Sewell resented the advice, and replied with a coarse insinuation about
+winners' counsels. The ill-luck continued, and Sewell's peevishness and
+ill-temper increased with every game. "What have I lost to you?" cried
+he, abruptly, to Cave; "it jars on my nerves every time you take out
+that cursed memorandum, so that all I can do is not to fling it into the
+fire."
+
+"I'm sure I wish you would, or that you would let me do it," said Cave,
+quietly.
+
+"How much is it?--not short of three hundred, I'll be bound."
+
+"It is upwards of five hundred," said Cave, handing the book across the
+table.
+
+"You'll have to wait for it, I promise you. You must give me time, for
+I am in all sorts of messes just now." While Cave assured him that
+there was no question of pressing for payment,--to take his own perfect
+convenience,--Sewell, not heeding him, went on: "This confounded place
+has cost me a pot of money. My wife, too, knows how to scatter her
+five-pound notes; in short, we are a wasteful lot. Shall we have one
+rubber more, eh?"
+
+"As you like. I am at your orders."
+
+"Let us say double or quits, then, for the whole sum."
+
+Cave made no reply, and seemed not to know how to answer.
+
+"Of course, if you object," said Sewell, pushing back his chair from the
+table, as though about to rise, "there's no more to be said."
+
+"What do _you_ say, Houghton?" asked Cave.
+
+"Houghton has nothing to say to it; _he_ hasn't won twenty pounds from
+me," said Sewell, fiercely.
+
+"Whatever you like, then," said Cave, in a tone in which it was easy to
+see irritation was with difficulty kept under, and the game began.
+
+The game began in deep silence. The restrained temper of the players and
+the heavy sum together impressed them, and not a word was dropped. The
+cards fell upon the table with a clear, sharp sound, and the clink of
+the counters resounded through the room, the only noises there.
+
+As they played, the company from the billiard-room poured in and drew
+around the whist-table, at first noisily enough; but seeing the deep
+preoccupation of the players, their steadfast looks, their intense
+eagerness, made more striking by their silence, they gradually lowered
+their voices, and at last only spoke in whispers and rarely.
+
+The first game of the rubber had been contested trick by trick, but
+ended by Cave winning it. The second game was won by Sewell, and the
+third opened with his deal.
+
+As he dealt the cards, a murmur ran through the bystanders that
+the stake was something considerable, and the interest increased in
+consequence. A few trifling bets were laid on the issue, and one of
+the group, in a voice slightly raised above the rest, said, "I'll back
+Sewell for a pony."
+
+"I beg you will not, sir," said Sewell, turning fiercely round. "I'm in
+bad luck already, and I don't want to be swamped altogether. There, sir,
+your interference has made me misdeal," cried he, passionately, as he
+flung the cards on the table.
+
+Not a word was said as Cave began his deal. It was too plain to every
+one that Sewell's temper was becoming beyond control, and that a word or
+a look might bring the gravest consequences.
+
+"What cards!" said Cave, as he spread his hand on the table: "four
+honors and nine trumps." Sewell stared at them, moved his fingers
+through them to separate and examine them, and then, turning his head
+round, he looked behind. It was his wife was standing at the back of his
+chair, calm, pale, and collected. "By Heaven!" cried he, savagely, "I
+knew who was there as well as if I saw her. The moment Cave spread out
+his cards, I 'd have taken my oath that _she_ was standing over me."
+
+She moved hastily away at the ruffianly speech, and a low murmur of
+indignant anger filled the room. Cave and Houghton quitted the table,
+and mingled with the others; but Sewell sat still, tearing up the
+cards one by one, with a quiet, methodical persistence that betrayed no
+passion. "There!" said he, as he threw the last fragment from him, "you
+shall never bring good or bad luck to any one more." With the ease
+of one to whom such paroxysms were not un-frequent, he joined in the
+conversation of a group of young men, and with a familiar jocularity
+soon set them at their ease towards him; and then, drawing his arm
+within Cave's, he led him apart, and said: "I 'll go over to the Barrack
+to-morrow and breakfast with you. I have just thought of how I can
+settle this little debt."
+
+"Oh, don't distress yourself about that," said Cave. "I beg you will not
+let it give you a moment's uneasiness."
+
+"Good fellow!" said Sewell, clapping him on the shoulder; "but I
+have the means of doing it without inconvenience, as I 'll show you
+to-morrow. Don't go yet; don't let your fellows go. We are going to have
+a broil, or a devilled biscuit, or something." He walked over and rang
+the bell, and then hastily passed on into a smaller room, where his wife
+was sitting on a sofa, an old doctor of the regiment seated at her side.
+
+"I won't interrupt the consultation," said Sewell, "but I have just one
+word to say." He leaned over the back of the sofa, and whispered in her
+ear, "Your friend Trafford is become an eldest son. He is at the
+Bilton Hotel, Dublin; write and ask him here. Say I have some
+cock-shooting,--there are harriers in the neighborhood. Are you
+listening to me, Madam?" said he, in a harsh hissing voice, for she had
+half turned away her head, and her face had assumed an expression of
+sickened disgust. She nodded, but did not speak. "Tell him that I've
+spoken to Cave--he'll make his leave all right--that I 'll do my best
+to make the place pleasant to him, and that--in fact, I needn't toy to
+teach you to write a sweet note. You understand me, eh?"
+
+"Oh, perfectly," said she, rising; and a livid paleness now spread over
+her face, and even her lips were bloodless.
+
+"I was too abrupt with my news. I ought to have been more considerate;
+I ought to have known it might overcome you," said he, with a sneering
+bitterness. "Doctor, you 'll have to give Mrs. Se well some cordial,
+some restorative,--that's the name for it. She was overcome by some
+tidings I brought her. Even pleasant news will startle us occasionally.
+As the French comedy has it, _La joie fait peur_;" and with a listless,
+easy air, he sauntered away into another room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. SEWELL VISITS CAVE
+
+Punctual to his appointment, Sewell appeared at breakfast the next
+morning with Colonel Cave. Of all the ill-humor and bad conduct of the
+night before, not a trace now was to be seen. He was easy, courteous,
+and affable. He even made a half-jesting apology for his late display of
+bad temper; attributing it to an attack of coming gout. "So long as
+the malady," said he, "is in a state of menace, one's nerves become so
+fine-strung that there is no name for the irritability; but when once a
+good honest seizure has taken place, a man recovers himself, and stands
+up to his suffering manfully and well.
+
+"To-day, for instance," said he, pointing to a shoe divided by long
+incisions, "I have got my enemy fixed, and I let him do his worst."
+
+The breakfast proceeded pleasantly; Cave was in admiration of his
+guest's agreeability; for he talked away, not so much of things as of
+people. He had in a high degree that-man-of-the-world gift of knowing
+something about every one. No name could turn up of which he could not
+tell you something the owner of it had said or done, and these "scratch"
+biographies are often very amusing, particularly when struck off with
+the readiness of a practised talker.
+
+It was not, then, merely that Sewell obliterated every memory of the
+evening before, but he made Cave forget the actual object for which he
+had come that morning. Projects, besides, for future pleasure did Sewell
+throw out, like a man who had both the leisure, the means, and the taste
+for enjoyment. There was some capital shooting he had just taken; his
+neighbor, an old squire, had never cared for it, and let him have
+it "for a song." They were going to get up hack races, too, in the
+Park,--"half-a-dozen hurdles and a double ditch to tumble over," as he
+said, "will amuse our garrison fellows,--and my wife has some theatrical
+intentions--if you will condescend to help her."
+
+Sewell talked with that blended munificence and shiftiness, which seems
+a specialty with a certain order of men. Nothing was too costly to be
+done, and yet everything must be accomplished with a dexterity that was
+almost a dodge. The men of this gift are great scene-painters. They dash
+you off a view--be it a wood or a rich interior, a terraced garden or an
+Alpine hut--in a few loose touches. Ay! and they "smudge" them out again
+before criticism has had time to deal with them. "By the way," cried he,
+suddenly, stopping in the full swing of some description of a possible
+regatta, "I was half forgetting what brought me here this morning. I am
+in your debt, Cave."
+
+He stopped as though his speech needed some rejoinder, and Cave grew
+very red and very uneasy--tried to say something--anything--but could
+not. The fact was, that, like a man who had never in all his life
+adventured on high play or risked a stake that could possibly be of
+importance to him, he felt pretty much the same amount of distress at
+having won as he would have felt at having lost. He well knew that if by
+any mischance he had incurred such a loss as a thousand pounds, it would
+have been a most serious embarrassment--by what right, then, had he won
+it? Now, although feelings of this sort were about the very last to find
+entrance into Sewell's heart, he well knew that there were men who were
+liable to them, just as there were people who were exposed to plague
+or yellow fever, and other maladies from which he lived remote. It
+was, then, with a sort of selfish delight that he saw Cave's awkward
+hesitating manner, and read the marks of the shame that was overwhelming
+him.
+
+"A heavy sum too," said Sewell, jauntily; "we went the whole 'pot' on
+that last rubber."
+
+"I wish I could forget it--I mean," muttered Cave, "I wish we could both
+forget it."
+
+"I have not the least objection to that," said Sewell gayly; "only let
+it first be paid."
+
+"Well, but--what I meant was--what I wanted to say, or rather, what I
+hoped--was--in plain words, Sewell," burst he out, like a man to whom
+desperation gave courage,--"in plain words, I never intended to play
+such stakes as we played last night,--I never have--I never will again."
+
+"Not to give me my revenge?" said Sewell, laughing.
+
+"No, not for anything. I don't know what I 'd have done--I don't know
+what would have become of me--if I had lost; and I pledge you my honor,
+I think the next worst thing is to have won."
+
+"Do you, by George!"
+
+"I do, upon my sacred word of honor. My first thoughts on waking this
+morning were more wretched than they have been for any day in the last
+twenty years of life, for I was thoroughly ashamed of myself."
+
+"You 'll not find many men afflicted with your malady, Cave; and, at all
+events, it's not contagious."
+
+"I know nothing about that," said Cave, half irritably; "I never was a
+play man, and have little pretension to understand their feelings."
+
+"They have n't got any," said Sewell, as he lit his cigar.
+
+"Perhaps not; so much the worse for them. I can only say, if the misery
+of losing be only proportionate to the shame of winning, I don't envy a
+gambler. Such an example, too, to exhibit to my young officers! It was
+too bad--too bad."
+
+"I declare I don't understand this," said Sewell, carelessly; "when I
+commanded a battalion, I never imagined I was obliged to be a model to
+the subs or the junior captains." The tone of banter went, this time,
+to the quick; and Cave flushed a deep crimson, and said,--"I'm not sorry
+that my ideas of my duty are different; though, in the present case, I
+have failed to fulfil it."
+
+"Well, well, there's nothing to grow angry about," said Sewell,
+laughing, "even though you won't give me my revenge. My present business
+is to book up;" and, as he spoke, he sat down at the table, and drew a
+roll of papers from his pocket and laid it before him.
+
+"You distress me greatly by all this, Sewell," said Cave, whose
+agitation now almost overcame him. "Cannot we hit upon some way? can't
+we let it lie over? I mean,--is there no arrangement by which this
+cursed affair can be deferred? You understand me?"
+
+"Not in the least. Such things are never deferred without loss of honor
+to the man in default. The stake that a man risks is supposed to be
+in his pocket, otherwise play becomes trade, and accepts all the
+vicissitudes of trade."
+
+"It's the first time I ever heard them contrasted to the disparagement
+of honest industry."
+
+"And I call billiards, tennis, whist, and ecarte honest industries, too,
+though I won't call them trades. There, there," said he, laughing at the
+other's look of displeasure, "don't be afraid; I am not going to preach
+these doctrines to your young officers, for whose morals you are so much
+concerned. Sit down here, and just listen to me for one moment."
+
+Cave obeyed, but his face showed in every feature how reluctantly.
+
+"I see, Cave," said Sewell, with a quiet smile,--"I see you want to do
+me a favor,--so you shall. I am obliged to own that I am an exception to
+the theory I have just now enunciated. I staked a thousand pounds, and I
+had _not_ the money in my pocket. Wait a moment,--don't interrupt me.
+I had not the money in gold or bank-notes, but I had it here"--and he
+touched the papers before him--"in a form equally solvent, only that it
+required that he who won the money should be not a mere acquaintance,
+but a friend,--a friend to whom I could speak with freedom and in
+confidence. This," said he, "is a bond for twelve hundred pounds, given
+by my wife's guardian in satisfaction of a loan once made to him; he was
+a man of large fortune, which he squandered away recklessly, leaving
+but a small estate, which he could neither sell nor alienate. Upon this
+property this is a mortgage. As an old friend of my father-in-law,--a
+very unworthy one, by the way,--I could of course not press him for the
+interest, and, as you will see, it has never been paid; and there is now
+a balance of some hundred pounds additional against him. Of this I
+could not speak, for another reason,--we are not without the hope of
+inheriting something by him, and to allude to this matter would be
+ruinous. Keep this, then. I insist upon it. I declare to you, if you
+refuse, I will sell it to-morrow to the first moneylender I can find,
+and send you my debt in hard cash. I 've been a play-man all my life,
+but never a defaulter."
+
+There was a tone of proud indignation in the way he spoke that awed Cave
+to silence; for in good truth he was treating of themes of which he knew
+nothing whatever: and of the sort of influences which swayed gamblers,
+of the rules that guided and the conventionalities that bound them, he
+was profoundly ignorant.
+
+"You 'll not get your money, Cave," resumed Sewell, "till this old
+fellow dies; but you will be paid at last,--of that I can assure you.
+Indeed, if by any turn of luck I was in funds myself, I 'd like to
+redeem it. All I ask is, therefore, that you 'll not dispose of it, but
+hold it over in your own possession till the day--and I hope it may be
+an early one--it will be payable."
+
+Cave was in no humor to dispute anything. There was no condition to
+which he would not have acceded, so heartily ashamed and abashed was
+he by the position in which he found himself. What he really would have
+liked best, would have been to refuse the bond altogether, and say,
+Pay when you like, how you like, or, better still, not at all. This of
+course was not possible, and he accepted the terms proposed to him at
+once.
+
+"It shall be all as you wish," said he, hurriedly. "I will do everything
+you desire; only let me assure you that I would infinitely rather this
+paper remained in _your_ keeping than in _mine_. I'm a careless fellow
+about documents," added he, trying to put the matter on the lesser
+ground of a safe custody. "Well, well, say no more; you don't wish it,
+and that's enough."
+
+"I must be able to say," said Sewell, gravely, "that I never lost over
+night what I had not paid the next morning; and I will even ask of you
+to corroborate me so far as this transaction goes. There were several
+of your fellows at my house last night; they saw what we played for, and
+that I was the loser. There will be--there always is--plenty of gossip
+about these things, and the first question is, 'Has he-booked up?' I'm
+sure it's not asking more than you are ready to do, to say that I paid
+my debt within twenty-four hours."
+
+"Certainly; most willingly. I don't know that any one has a right to
+question me on the matter."
+
+"I never said he had. I only warned you how people will talk, and how
+necessary it is to be prepared to stifle a scandal even before it has
+flared out."
+
+"It shall be cared for. I'll do exactly as you wish," said Cave, who
+was too much flurried to know what was asked of him, and to what he was
+pledged.
+
+"I'm glad this is off my mind," said Sewell, with a long sigh of relief.
+"I lay awake half the night thinking of it; for there are scores of
+fellows who are not of your stamp, and who would be for submitting these
+documents to their lawyer, and asking, Heaven knows, what this affair
+related to. Now I tell you frankly, I 'd have given no explanations. He
+who gave that bond is, as I know, a consummate rascal, and has robbed
+me--that is, my wife--out of two-thirds of her fortune; but _my_ hands
+are tied regarding him. I could n't touch him, except he should try to
+take my life,--a thing, by the way, he is quite capable of. Old Dillon,
+my wife's father, believed him to be the best and truest of men, and my
+wife inherited this belief, even in the face of all the injuries he had
+worked us. She went on saying, 'My father always said, "Trust Fossy:
+there's at least one man in the world that will never deceive you.'""
+
+"What was the name you said?" asked Cave, quickly.
+
+"Oh, only a nickname. I don't want to mention his name. I have sealed up
+the bond, with this superscription,--'Colonel Sewell's bond.' I did this
+believing you would not question me farther; but if you desire to read
+it over, I 'll break the envelope at once."
+
+"No, no; nothing of the kind. Leave it just as it is."
+
+"So that," said Sewell, pursuing his former line of thought, "this man
+not alone defrauded me, but he sowed dissension between me and my wife.
+Her faith is shaken in him, I have no doubt, but she 'll not confess it.
+Like a genuine woman, she will persist in asserting the convictions
+she has long ceased to be held by, and quote this stupid letter of her
+father in the face of every fact.
+
+"I ought not to have got into these things," said Sewell, as he walked
+impatiently down the room. "These family bedevilments should be kept
+from one's friends; but the murder is out now, and you can see how
+I stand--and see besides, that if I am not always able to control my
+temper, a friend might find an excuse for me."
+
+Cave gave a kindly nod of assent to this, not wishing, even by a word,
+to increase the painful embarrassment of the scene.
+
+"Heigh ho!" cried Sewell, throwing himself down in a chair, "there's one
+care off my heart, at least! I can remember a time when a night's bad
+luck would n't have cost me five minutes of annoyance; but nowadays
+I have got it so hot and so heavy from fortune, I begin not to know
+myself." Then, with a sudden change of tone, he added: "When are you
+coming out to us again? Shall we say Tuesday?"
+
+"We are to be inspected on Tuesday. Trafford writes me that he is coming
+over with General Halkett,--whom, by the way, he calls a Tartar,--and
+says, 'If the Sewells are within hail, say a kind word to them on my
+part.'"
+
+"A good sort of fellow, Trafford," said Sewell, carelessly.
+
+"An excellent fellow,--no better living!"
+
+"A very wide-awake one too," said Sewell, with one eye closed, and a
+look of intense cunning.
+
+"I never thought so. It is, to my notion, to the want of that faculty he
+owes every embarrassment he has ever suffered. He is unsuspecting to a
+fault."
+
+"It's not the way _I_ read him; though, perhaps, I think as well of him
+as _you_ do. I 'd say that for his years he is one of the very shrewdest
+young fellows I ever met."
+
+"You astonish me! May I ask if you know him well?"
+
+"Our acquaintance is not of very old date, but we saw a good deal of
+each other at the Cape. We rode out frequently, dined, played, and
+conversed freely together; and the impression he made upon me was that
+every sharp lesson the world had given him he 'd pay back one day or
+other with a compound interest."
+
+"I hope not,--I fervently hope not!" cried Cave. "I had rather hear
+to-morrow that he had been duped and cheated out of half his fortune
+than learn he had done one act that savored of the--the--" He stopped,
+unable to finish, for he could not hit upon the word that might be
+strong enough for his meaning, and yet not imply an offence.
+
+"Say blackleg. Is n't that what you want? There's my wife's pony chaise.
+I 'll get a seat back to the Nest. Goodbye, Cave. If Wednesday is open,
+give it to us, and tell Trafford I'd be glad to see him."
+
+Cave sat down as the door closed after the other, and tried to recall
+his thoughts to something like order. What manner of man was that who
+had just left him? It was evidently a very mixed nature. Was it the good
+or the evil that predominated? Was the unscrupulous tone he displayed
+the result of a spirit of tolerance, or was it the easy indifference of
+one who trusted nothing,--believed nothing?
+
+Was it possible his estimate of Trafford could be correct? and
+could this seemingly generous and open manner cover a nature cold,
+calculating, and treacherous? No, no. _That_ he felt to be totally out
+of the question.
+
+He thought long and intently over the matter, but to no end; and as he
+arose to deposit the papers left by Sewell in his writing-desk, he felt
+as unsettled and undecided as when he started on the inquiry.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE RACES ON THE LAWN
+
+A bright October morning, with a blue sky and a slight, very slight
+feeling of frost in the air, and a gay meeting on foot and horseback on
+the lawn before the Swan's Nest, made as pretty a picture as a painter
+of such scenes could desire. I say of such scenes, because in the
+_tableau de genre_ it is the realistic element that must predominate,
+and the artist's skill is employed in imparting to very commonplace
+people and costumes whatever poetry can be lent them by light and shade,
+by happy groupings, and, more than all these, by the insinuation of
+some incident in which they are the actors,--a sort of storied interest
+pervading the whole canvas, which gives immense pleasure to those who
+have little taste for the fine arts.
+
+There was plenty of color even in the landscape. The mountains had put
+on their autumn suit, and displayed every tint from a pale opal to
+a deep and gorgeous purple, while the river ran on in those circling
+eddies which come to the surface of water under sunshine as naturally as
+smiles to the face of flattered beauty.
+
+Colonel Sewell had invited the country-side to witness hack-races in his
+grounds, and the country-side had heartily responded to the invitation.
+There were the county magnates in grand equipages,--an earl with
+two postilions and outriders, a high sheriff with all his official
+splendors, squires of lower degree in more composite vehicles, and a
+large array of jaunting-cars, through all of which figured the red coats
+of the neighboring garrison, adding to the scene that tint of warmth in
+color so dear to the painter's heart.
+
+The wonderful beauty of the spot, combining, as it did, heath-clad
+mountain, and wood, and winding river, with a spreading lake in the
+distance, dotted with picturesque islands, was well seconded by
+a glorious autumnal day,--one of those days when the very air has
+something of champagne in its exhilarating quality, and gives to every
+breath of it a sense of stimulation.
+
+The first three races--they were on the flat--had gone off admirably.
+They were well contested, well ridden, and the "right horse" the winner.
+All was contentment, therefore, on every side, to which the interval of
+a pleasant moment of conviviality gave hearty assistance, for now came
+the hour of luncheon; and from the "swells" in the great marquee, and
+the favored intimates in the dining-room, to the assembled unknown in
+the jaunting-cars, merry laughter issued, with clattering of plates
+and popping of corks, and those commingled sounds of banter and jollity
+which mark such gatherings.
+
+The great event of the day was, however, yet to come off. It was a
+hurdle race, to which two stiff fences were to be added, in the shape
+of double ditches, to test the hunting powers of the horses. The hurdles
+were to be four feet eight in height, so that the course was by no means
+a despicable one, even to good cross-country riders. To give increased
+interest to the race, Sewell himself was to ride, and no small share
+of eagerness existed amongst the neighboring gentry to see how the
+new-comer would distinguish himself in the saddle,--some opining he
+was too long of leg; some, that he was too heavy; some, that men of his
+age--he was over five-and-thirty--begin to lose nerve; and many going
+so far as to imply "that he did not look like riding,"--a judgment whose
+vagueness detracts nothing from its force.
+
+"There he goes now, and he sits well down too!" cried one, as a group
+of horsemen swept past, one of whom, mounted on a "sharp" pony, led
+the way, a white macintosh and loose overalls covering him from head to
+foot. They were off to see that the fences were all being properly put
+up, and in an instant were out of sight.
+
+"I'll back Tom Westenra against Sewell for a twenty-pound note," cried
+one, standing up on the seat of his car to proclaim the challenge.
+
+"I'll go further," shouted another,--"I 'll do it for fifty."
+
+"I 'll beat you both," cried out a third,--"I 'll take Tom even against
+the field."
+
+The object of all this enthusiasm was a smart, cleanshaven little
+fellow, with a good blue eye, and a pleasant countenance, who smoked his
+cigar on the seat of a drag near, and nodded a friendly recognition to
+their confidence.
+
+"If Joe Slater was well of his fall, I 'd rather have him than any one
+in the county," said an old farmer, true to a man of his own class and
+standing.
+
+"Here's one can beat them both!" shouted another; "here's Mr. Creagh of
+Liskmakerry!" and a thin, ruddy-faced, keen-eyed man of about fifty
+rode by on a low-sized horse, with that especial look of decision in his
+mouth, and a peculiar puckering about the corners that seem to belong to
+those who traffic in horse-flesh, and who, it would appear, however much
+they may know about horses, understand humanity more thoroughly still.
+
+"Are you going to ride, Creagh?" cried a friend from a high tax-cart.
+
+"Maybe so, if the fences are not too big for me;" and a very malicious
+drollery twinkled in his gray eye.
+
+"Faix, and if they are," said a farmer, "the rest may stay at home."
+
+"I hope you 'll ride, Creagh," said the first speaker, "and not let
+these English fellows take the shine out of us. Yourself and Tom are the
+only county names on the card."
+
+"Show it to me," said Creagh, listlessly; and he took the printed list
+in his hand and conned it over, as though it had all been new to him.
+"They 're all soldiers, I see," said he. "It's Major This, and Captain
+That--Who is the lady?" This question was rapidly called forth by a
+horsewoman who rode past at an easy canter in the midst of a group of
+men. She was dressed in a light-gray habit and hat of the same color,
+from which a long white feather encircling the hat hung on one side.
+
+"That's Mrs. Sewell,--what do you think of her riding?"
+
+"If her husband has as neat a hand, I 'd rather he was out of the
+course. She knows well what she 's about."
+
+"They say there's not her equal in the park in London."
+
+"That's not park riding; that's something very different, take my word
+for it. She could lead half the men here across the country."
+
+Nor was she unworthy of the praise, as, with her hand low, her head a
+little forward, but her back well curved in, she sat firmly down in her
+saddle; giving to the action of the horse that amount of movement that
+assisted the animal, but never more. The horse was mettlesome enough to
+require all her attention. It was his first day under a sidesaddle, and
+he chafed at it, and when the heavy skirt smote his flank, bounded with
+a lunge and a stroke of his head that showed anger.
+
+"That's a four-hundred guinea beast she 's on. He belongs to the tall
+young fellow that's riding on her left."
+
+"I like his own horse better,--the liver-chestnut with the short legs. I
+wish I had a loan of him for the hurdle-race."
+
+"Ask him, Phil; or get the mistress there to ask him," said another,
+laughing. "I 'm mighty mistaken or he wouldn't refuse her."
+
+"Oh, is that it?" said Creagh, with a knowing look.
+
+"So they tell me here, for I don't know one of them myself; but the
+story goes that she was to have married that young fellow when Sewell
+earned her off."
+
+"I must go and get a better look at her," said Creagh, as he spurred his
+horse and cantered away.
+
+"Is any one betting?" said little Westenra, as he descended from his
+seat on the drag. "I have not seen a man to-day with five pounds on the
+race."
+
+"Here's Sewell," muttered another; "he's coming up now, and will give or
+take as much as you like."
+
+"Did you see Mrs. Sewell, any of you?" asked Sewell, cavalierly, as he
+rode up with an open telegram in his hand; and as the persons addressed
+were for the most part his equals, none responded to the insolent
+demand.
+
+"Could you tell me, sir," said Sewell, quickly altering his tone, while
+he touched his hat to Westenra, "if Mrs. Sewell passed this way?"
+
+"I haven't the honor to know Mrs. Sewell, but I saw a lady ride past,
+about ten minutes ago, on a black thoroughbred."
+
+"Faix, and well she rode him too," broke in an old farmer.
+
+"She took the posy out of that young gentleman's button-hole, while her
+beast was jumping, and stuck it in her breast, as easy as I 'm sitting
+here."
+
+Sewel's face grew purple as he darted a look of savage anger at the
+speaker, and, turning his horse's head, he dashed out at speed and
+disappeared.
+
+"Peter Delaney," said Westenra, "I thought you had more discretion than
+to tell such a story as that."
+
+"Begorra, Mister Tom! I didn't know the mischief I was making till I saw
+the look he gave me!"
+
+It was not till after a considerable search that Sewell came up with
+his wife's party, who were sauntering leisurely along the river-side,
+through a gorse-covered slope.
+
+"I 've had a devil of a hunt after you!" he cried, as he rode up, and
+the ringing tone of his voice was enough to intimate to her in what
+temper he spoke. "I 've something to say to you," said he, as though
+meant for her private ear; and the others drew back, and suffered them
+to ride on together. "There 's a telegram just come from that old beast
+the Chief Baron; he desires to see me to-night. The last train leaves
+at five, and I shall only hit it by going at once. Can't you keep your
+horse quiet, Madam, or must you show off while I 'm speaking to you?"
+
+"It was the furze that stung him," said she, coldly, and not showing the
+slightest resentment at his tone.
+
+"If the old bear means anything short of dying, and leaving me his heir,
+this message is a shameful swindle."
+
+"Do you mean to go?" asked she, coldly.
+
+"I suppose so; that is," added he, with a bitter grin, "if I can tear
+myself away from _you_;" but she only smiled.
+
+"I 'll have to pay a forfeit in this match," continued he, "and my book
+will be all smashed, besides. I say," cried he, "would Trafford ride for
+me?"
+
+"Perhaps he would."
+
+"None of your mock indifference, Madam. I can't afford to lose a
+thousand pounds every time you have a whim. Ay, look astonished if you
+like! but if you had n't gone into the billiard-room on Saturday evening
+and spoiled my match, I 'd have escaped that infernal whist-table.
+Listen to me now! Tell him that I have been sent for suddenly,--it might
+be too great a risk for me to refuse to go,--and ask him to ride
+Crescy; if he says Yes,--and he will say yes if you ask him as you
+_ought_,"--her cheek grew crimson as he uttered the last word with a
+strong emphasis,--"tell him to take up my book. Mind you use the words
+'take up;' _he'll_ understand you."
+
+"But why not say all this yourself?--he 's riding close behind at this
+minute."
+
+"Because I have a wife, Madam, who can do it so much better; because I
+have a wife who plucks a carnation out of a man's coat, and wears it in
+her bosom, and this on an open race-course, where people can talk of it!
+and a woman with such rare tact ought to be of service to her husband,
+eh?" She swayed to and fro in her saddle for an instant as though about
+to fall, but she grasped the horn with both hands and saved herself.
+
+"Is that all?" muttered she, faintly.
+
+"Not quite. Tell Trafford to come round to my dressing-room, and I 'll
+give him a hint or two about the horse. He must come at once, for I have
+only time to change my clothes and start. You can make some excuse
+to the people for my absence; say that the old Judge has had another
+attack, and I only wish it may be true. Tell them I got a telegram, and
+_that_ may mean anything. Trafford will help you to do the honors, and
+I 'll swear him in as viceroy before I go. Is n't that all that could
+be asked of me?" The insolence of his look as he said this made her turn
+away her head as though sickened and disgusted.
+
+"They want you at the weighing-stand, Colonel Sewell," said a gentleman,
+riding up.
+
+"Oh, they do! Well, say, please, that I 'm coming. Has he given you that
+black horse?" asked he, in a hurried whisper.
+
+"No; he offered him, but I refused."
+
+"You had no right to refuse; he's strong enough to carry _me_; and the
+ponies that I saw led round to the stable-yard, whose are they?"
+
+"They are Captain Trafford's."
+
+"You told him you thought them handsome, I suppose, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, I think them very beautiful."
+
+"Well, don't take them as a present. Win them if you like at piquet or
+ecarte,--any way you please, but don't take them as a gift, for I heard
+Westenra say they were meant for you."
+
+She nodded; and as she bent her head, a smile, the very strangest,
+crossed her features. If it were not that the pervading expression of
+her face was at the instant melancholy, the look she gave him would have
+been almost devilish.
+
+"I have something else to say, but I can't remember it."
+
+"You don't know when you'll be back?" asked she, carelessly.
+
+"Of course not,--how can I? I can only promise that I'll not arrive
+unexpectedly, Madam; and I take it that's as much as any gentleman can
+be called on to say. Bye-bye."
+
+"Good-bye," said she, in the same tone.
+
+"I see that Mr. Balfour is here. I can't tell who asked him; but mind
+you don't invite him to luncheon; take no notice of him whatever;
+he'll not bet a guinea; never plays; never risks anything,--even his
+_affections!_"
+
+"What a creature!"
+
+"Isn't he! There! I'll not detain you from pleasanter company; good-bye;
+see you here when I come back, I suppose?"
+
+"Most probably," said she, with a smile; and away he rode, at a tearing
+gallop, for his watch warned him that he was driven to the last minute.
+
+"My husband has been sent for to town, Captain Traf-ford," said she,
+turning her head towards him as he resumed his place at her side; "the
+Chief Baron desires to see him immediately, and he sets off at once."
+
+"And his race? What 's to become of his match?"
+
+"He said I was to ask you to ride for him."
+
+"Me--I ride! Why, I am two stone heavier than he is."
+
+"I suppose he knew that," said she, coldly, and as if the matter was
+one of complete indifference to her. "I am only delivering a message,"
+continued she, in the same careless tone; "he said, 'Ask Captain
+Trafford to ride for me and take up my book; 'I was to be particular
+about the phrase 'take up;' I conclude you will know what meaning to
+attach to it."
+
+"I suspect I do," said he, with a low soft laugh.
+
+"And I was to add something about hints he was to give you, if you 'd
+go round to his dressing-room at once; indeed, I believe you have little
+time to spare."
+
+"Yes, I'll go,--I 'll go now; only there 's one thing I 'd like to
+ask--that is--I'd be very glad to know--"
+
+"What is it?" said she, after a pause, in which his confusion seemed to
+increase with every minute.
+
+"I mean, I should like to know whether you wished me to ride this race
+or not?"
+
+"Whether _I_ wished it?" said she, in a tone of astonishment.
+
+"Well, whether you cared about the matter one way or other?" replied he,
+in still deeper embarrassment.
+
+"How could it concern me, my dear Captain Trafford?" said she, with an
+easy smile; "a race never interests me much, and I 'd just as soon see
+Blue and Orange come in as Yellow and Black; but you 'll be late if you
+intend to see my husband; I think you 'd better make haste."
+
+"So I will, and I 'll be back immediately," said he, not sorry to escape
+a scene where his confusion was now making him miserable.
+
+"You _are_ a very nice horse!" said she, patting the animal's neck, as
+he chafed to dash off after the other. "I 'd like very much to own you;
+that is, if I ever was to call anything my own."
+
+"They 're clearing the course, Mrs. Sewell," said one of her companions,
+riding up; "we had better turn off this way, and ride down to the
+stand."
+
+"Here's a go!" cried another, coming up at speed. "Big Trafford is going
+to ride Crescy; he 's well-nigh fourteen stone."
+
+"Not thirteen: I 'll lay a tenner on it."
+
+"He can ride a bit," said a third.
+
+"I 'd rather he 'd ride his own horse than mine."
+
+"Sewell knows what he 's about, depend on 't."
+
+"That's his wife," whispered another; "I'm certain she heard you."
+
+Mrs. Sewell turned her head as she cantered along, and, in the strange
+smile her features wore, seemed to confirm the speaker's words; but the
+hurry and bustle of the moment drowned all sense of embarrassment, and
+the group dashed onward to the stand.
+
+Leaving that heaving, panting, surging tide of humanity for an instant,
+let us turn to the house, where Sewell was already engaged in preparing
+for the road.
+
+"You are going to ride for me, Trafford?" said Sewell, as the other
+entered his dressing-room, where, with the aid of his servant, he was
+busily packing up for the road.
+
+"I 'm not sure; that is, I don't like to refuse, and I don't see how to
+accept."
+
+"My wife has told you; I 'm sent for hurriedly."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well?" said he, looking round at him from his task.
+
+"Just as I have told you already; I 'd ride for you as well as a heavy
+fellow could take a light-weight's place, but I don't understand about
+your book--am I to stand your engagements?"
+
+"You mean, are you to win all the money I'm sure to pocket on the
+match?"
+
+"No, I don't mean that," said he, laughing; "I never thought of trading
+on another man's brains; I simply meant, am I to be responsible for the
+losses?"
+
+"If you ride Crescy as you ought to ride him, you needn't fret about the
+losses?"
+
+"But suppose that I do not--and the case is a very possible one--that,
+not knowing your horse--"
+
+"Take this portmanteau down, Bob, and the carpet-bag; I shall only lose
+my train," said Sewell, with a gesture of hot impatience; and as the
+servant left the room, he added: "Pray don't think any more about this
+stupid race; scratch Crescy, and tell my wife that it was a change of
+mind on "my" part,--that I did not wish you to ride; good-bye;" and he
+waved a hasty adieu with his hand, as though to dismiss him at once.
+
+"If you 'll let me ride for you, I 'll do my best," blundered out
+Trafford; "when I spoke of your engagements, it was only to prepare you
+for what perhaps you were not aware of, that I 'm not very well off just
+now, and that if anything like a heavy sum--"
+
+"You are a most cautious fellow; I only wonder how you ever did get into
+a difficulty; but I 'm not the man to lead you astray, and wreck such
+splendid principles; adieu!"
+
+"I 'll ride, let it end how it may!" said Trafiford, angrily, and left
+the room at once, and hurried downstairs.
+
+Sewell gave a parting look at himself in the glass; and as he set his
+hat jauntily on one side, said, "There 's nothing like a little mock
+indignation to bully fellows of _his_ stamp; the keynote of their
+natures is the dread of being thought mean, and particularly of being
+thought mean by a woman." He laughed pleasantly at this conceit, and
+went on his way.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. SEWELL ARRIVES IN DUBLIN
+
+It was late at night when Sewell reached town. An accidental delay to
+the train deferred the arrival for upwards of an hour after the usual
+time; and when he reached the Priory, the house was all closed for the
+night, and not a light to be seen.
+
+He knocked, however, and rang boldly; and after a brief delay, and
+considerable noise of unbolting and unbarring, was admitted. "We gave
+you up, sir, after twelve o'clock," said the butler, half reproachfully,
+"and his Lordship ordered the servants to bed. Miss Lendrick, however,
+is in her drawing-room still."
+
+"Is there anything to eat, my good friend? That is what I stand most in
+need of just now."
+
+"There's a cold rib of beef, sir, and a grouse pie; but if you 'd like
+something hot, I 'll call the cook."
+
+"No, no, never mind the cook; you can give me some sherry, I 'm sure?"
+
+"Any wine you please, sir. We have excellent Madeira, which ain't to be
+had everywhere nowadays."
+
+"Madeira be it, then; and order a fire in my room. I take it you have a
+room for me?"
+
+"Yes, sir, all is ready; the bath was hot about an hour ago, and I 'll
+have it refreshed in a minute."
+
+"Now for the grouse pie. By the way, Fenton, what is the matter with his
+Lordship? He was n't ill, was he, when he sent off that despatch to me?"
+
+"No, sir; he was in court to-day, and he dined at the Castle, and was in
+excellent spirits before he went out."
+
+"Has anything gone wrong, then, that he wanted me up so hurriedly?"
+
+"Well, sir, it ain't so easy to say, his Lordship excites himself so
+readily; and mayhap he had words with some of the judges,--mayhap with
+his Excellency, for they 're always at him about resigning, little
+knowing that if they 'd only let him alone he 'd go of himself, but if
+they press him he 'll stay on these twenty years."
+
+"I don't suspect he has got so many as twenty years before him."
+
+"If he wants to live, sir, he 'll do it. Ah, you may laugh, sir, but I
+have known him all my life, and I never saw the man like him to do the
+thing he wishes to do."
+
+"Cut me some of that beef, Fenton, and fetch me some draught beer. How
+these old tyrants make slaves of their servants," said he, aloud, as the
+man left the room,--"a slavery that enthralls mind as well as body."
+A gentle tap came to the door, and before Sewell could question the
+summons, Miss Lendrick entered. She greeted him cordially, and said how
+anxiously her grandfather had waited for him till midnight. "I don't
+know when I saw him so eager or so impatient," she said.
+
+"Have you any clew to his reason for sending for me?" said he, as he
+continued to eat, and assumed an air of perfect unconcern.
+
+"None whatever. He came into my room about two o'clock, and told me to
+write his message in a good bold hand; he seemed in his usual health,
+and his manner displayed nothing extraordinary. He questioned me about
+the time it would take to transmit the message from the town to your
+house, and seemed satisfied when I said about half an hour."
+
+"It's just as likely, perhaps, to be some caprice,--some passing fancy."
+
+She shook her head dissentingly, but made no reply.
+
+"I believe the theory of this house is, 'he can do no wrong,'" said
+Sewell, with a laugh.
+
+"He is so much more able in mind than all around him, such a theory
+might prevail; but I 'll not go so far as to say that it does."
+
+"It's not his mind gives him his pre-eminence, Miss Lucy,--it's his
+temper; it's that same strong will that overcomes weaker natures by dint
+of sheer force. The people who assert their own way in life are not the
+most intellectual, they are only the best bullies."
+
+"You know very little of grandpapa, Colonel Sewell, that's clear."
+
+"Are you so sure of that?" asked he, with a dubious-smile.
+
+"I _am_ sure of it, or in speaking of him you would never have used such
+a word as bully."
+
+"You mistake me,--mistake me altogether, young lady. I spoke of a class
+of people who employ certain defects of temper to supply the place of
+certain gifts of intellect; and if your grandfather, who has no occasion
+for it, chooses to take a weapon out of their armory, the worse taste
+his."
+
+Lucy turned fiercely round, her face flushed, and her lip trembling.
+An angry reply darted through her mind, but she repressed it by a great
+effort, and in a faint voice she said, "I hope you left Mrs. Sewell
+well?"
+
+"Yes, perfectly well, amusing herself vastly. When I saw her last, she
+had about half a dozen young fellows cantering on either side of her,
+saying, doubtless, all those pleasant things that you ladies like to
+hear."
+
+Lucy shrugged her shoulders, without answering.
+
+"Telling you," continued he, in the same strain, "that if you are
+unmarried you are angels, and that if married you are angels and martyrs
+too; and it is really a subject that requires investigation, how
+the best of wives is not averse to hearing her husband does not half
+estimate her. Don't toss your head so impatiently, my dear Miss Lucy; I
+am giving you the wise precepts of a very thoughtful life."
+
+"I had hoped, Colonel Sewell, that a very thoughtful life might have
+brought forth pleasanter reflections." "No, that is precisely what it
+does not do. To live as long as I have, is to arrive at a point when all
+the shams have been seen through, and the world exhibits itself pretty
+much as a stage during a day rehearsal."
+
+"Well, sir, I am too young to profit by such experiences, and I will
+wish you a very good-night,--that is, if I can give no orders for
+anything you wish."
+
+"I have had everything. I will finish this Madeira--to your health--and
+hope to meet you in the morning, as beautiful and as trustful as I see
+you now,--_felice notte_." He bowed as he opened the door for her to
+pass out, and she went, with a slight bend of the head and a faint
+smile, and left him.
+
+"How I could make you beat your wings against your cage, for all your
+bravery, if I had only three days here, and cared to do it," said he, as
+he poured the rest of the wine into his glass. "How weary I could make
+you of this old house and its old owner. Within one month--one short
+month--I 'd have you repeating as wise saws every sneer and every
+sarcasm that you just now took fire at. And if I am to pass three days
+in this dreary old dungeon, I don't see how I could do better. What can
+he possibly want with me?" All the imaginable contingencies he could
+conjure up now passed before his mind. That the old man was sick
+of solitude, and wanted him to come and live with them; that he was
+desirous of adopting one of the children, and which of them? then,
+that he had held some correspondence with Fossbrooke, and wanted some
+explanations,--a bitter pang, that racked and tortured him while he
+revolved it; and, last of all, he came back to his first guess,--it was
+about his will he had sent for him. He had been struck by the beauty
+of the children, and asked their names and ages twice or thrice over;
+doubtless he was bent on making some provision for them. "I wish I could
+tell him that I'd rather have ten thousand down, than thrice the sum
+settled on Reginald and the girls. I wish I could explain to him that
+mine is a ready-money business, and that cash is the secret of success;
+and I wish I could show him that no profits will stand the reverses of
+loans raised at two hundred per cent! I wonder how the match went off
+to-day; I'd like to have the odds that there were three men down at
+the double rail and bank." Who got first over the brook, was his next
+speculation, and where was Trafford? "If he punished Crescy, I think I
+could tell _that_," muttered he, with a grin of malice. "I only wish I
+was there to see it;" and in the delight this thought afforded he tossed
+off his last glass of wine, and rang for his bedroom candle.
+
+"At what time shall I call you, sir?" asked the butler.
+
+"When are you stirring here,--I mean, at what hour does Sir William
+breakfast?"
+
+"He breakfasts at eight, sir, during term; but he does not expect to see
+any one but Miss Lucy so early."
+
+"I should think not. Call me at eleven, then, and bring me some coffee
+and a glass of rum when you come. Do you mean to tell me," said he, in a
+somewhat stern tone, "that the Chief Baron gets up at seven o'clock?"
+
+"In term-time, sir, he does every day."
+
+"Egad! I 'm well pleased that I have not a seat on the Bench. I 'd not
+be Lord Chancellor at that price."
+
+"It 's very hard on the servants, sir,--very hard indeed."
+
+"I suppose it is," said Sewell, with a treacherous twinkle of the eye.
+
+"If it was n't that I'm expecting the usher's place in the Court, I 'd
+have resigned long ago."
+
+"His Lordship's pleasant temper, however, makes up for everything,
+Fenton, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir, that's true;" and they both laughed heartily at the pleasant
+conceit; and in this merry humor they went their several ways to bed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+
+Sewell was awoke from a sound and heavy sleep by the Chief Baron's valet
+asking if it was his pleasure to see his Lordship before he went down to
+Court, in which case there was not much time to be lost.
+
+"How soon does he go?" asked Sewell, curtly.
+
+"He likes to be on the Bench by eleven exactly, sir, and he has always
+some business in Chamber first."
+
+"All that tells me nothing, my good friend. How much time have I now to
+catch him in before he starts?"
+
+"Half an hour, sir. Forty minutes, at most."
+
+"Well, I 'll try and do it. Say I 'm in my bath, and that I 'll be with
+him immediately."
+
+The man was not well out of the room when Sewell burst out into a
+torrent of abuse of the old Judge and his ways: "His inordinate vanity,
+his consummate conceit, to imagine that any activity of an old worn-out
+intellect like his could be of service to the public! If he knew but
+all, he is just as useful in his nightcap as in his wig, and it would
+be fully as dignified to sleep in his bed as in the Court of Exchequer."
+While he poured forth this invective, he dressed himself with all
+possible haste; indeed his ill-temper stimulated his alacrity, and he
+very soon issued from his room, trying to compose his features into a
+semblance of pleasure on meeting with his host.
+
+"I hope and trust I have not disturbed you unreasonably," said the
+Judge, rising from the breakfast-table, as Sewell entered. "I know you
+arrived very late, and I 'd have given you a longer sleep if it were in
+my power."
+
+"An old soldier, my Lord, knows how to manage with very little. I am
+only sorry if I have kept you waiting."
+
+"No man ever presumed to keep me waiting, sir. It is a slight I have yet
+to experience."
+
+"I mean, my Lord, it would have grieved me much had I occasioned you an
+inconvenience."
+
+"If you had, sir, it might have reacted injuriously upon yourself."
+
+Sewell bowed submissively, for what he knew not; but he surmised that
+as there was an opening for regret, there might also be a reason for
+gratitude; he waited to see if he were right.
+
+"My telegram only told you that I wanted you; it could not say for
+what," continued the Judge; and his voice still retained the metallic
+ring the late irritation had lent it.
+
+"There has been a contested question between the Crown and myself as to
+the patronage to an office in my Court. I have carried my point. They
+have yielded. They would have me believe that they have submitted out
+of deference to myself personally, my age, and long services. I know
+better, sir. They have taken the opinion of the Solicitor-General in
+England, who, with no flattering opinion of what is called 'Irish law,'
+has pronounced against them. The gift of the office rests with me, and
+it is my intention to confer it upon _you_."
+
+"Oh, my Lord, I have no words to express my gratitude!"
+
+"Very well, sir, it shall be assumed to have been expressed. The salary
+is one thousand a year. The duties are almost nominal."
+
+"I was going to ask, my Lord, whether my education and habits are such
+as would enable me to discharge these duties?"
+
+"I respect your conscientious scruple, sir. It is creditable and
+commendable. Your mind may, however, be at ease. Your immediate
+predecessor passed the last thirteen years at Tours, in France, and
+there was never a complaint of official irregularity till, three
+years ago, when he came over to afford his substitute a brief leave of
+absence, he forgot to sign his name to certain documents,--a mistake the
+less pardonable that his signature formed his whole and sole official
+drudgery."
+
+It was on Sewell's lips to say, "that if _he_ had not signed his name a
+little too frequently in life, his difficulties would not have been such
+as they now were."
+
+"I am afraid I did not catch what you said, sir," said the Judge.
+
+"I did not speak, my Lord," replied he, bowing.
+
+"You will see, therefore, sir, that the details of your official life
+need not deter you, although I have little doubt the Ministerial
+press will comment sharply upon your absence, if you give them the
+opportunity, and will reflect severely upon your unfitness, if they can
+detect a flaw in you. Is there anything, therefore, in your former life
+to which these writers can refer--I will not say disparagingly--but
+unpleasantly?"
+
+"I am not aware, my Lord, of anything."
+
+"Of course, sir, I could not mean what might impugn your honor or
+affect your fame. I spoke simply of what soldiers are, perhaps,
+more exposed to than civilians,--the lighter scandals of society. You
+apprehend me?"
+
+"I do, my Lord; and, I repeat that I have a very easy conscience on
+this score: for though I have filled some rather responsible stations at
+times, and been intrusted with high functions, all my tastes and habits
+have been so domestic and quiet--I have been so much more a man of home
+than a man of pleasure--that I have escaped even the common passing
+criticisms bestowed on people who are before the world."
+
+"Is this man--this Sir Brook Fossbrooke--one likely to occasion you any
+trouble?"
+
+"In the first place, my Lord, he is out of the country, not very likely
+to return to it; and secondly, it is not in his power--not in any man 's
+power--to make me a subject for attack."
+
+"You are fortunate, sir; more fortunate than men who have served their
+country longer. It will scarcely be denied that I have contributed to
+the public service, and yet, sir, _I_ have been arraigned before the
+bar of that insensate jury they call Public Opinion, and it is only in
+denying the jurisdiction I have deferred the award."
+
+Sewell responded to the vainglorious outburst by a look of admiring
+wonder, and the Judge smiled a gracious acceptance of the tribute. "I
+gather, therefore, sir, that you can accept this place without fear of
+what scandal or malignity may assail you by--"
+
+"Yes, my Lord, I can say as much with confidence."
+
+"It is necessary, sir, that I should be satisfied on this-head. The very
+essence of the struggle between the Crown and myself is in the fact
+that _my_ responsibility is pledged, _my_ reputation is in bond for the
+integrity and the efficiency of this officer, and I will not leave to
+some future biographer of the Irish Chief Barons of the Exchequer the
+task of apology for one who was certainly not the least eminent of the
+line."
+
+"Your Lordship's high character shall not suffer through me," said
+Sewell, bowing respectfully.
+
+"The matter, then, is so far settled; perhaps, however, you would like
+to consult your wife? She might be averse to your leaving the army."
+
+"No, my Lord. She wishes--she has long wished it. We are both domestic
+in our tastes, and we have always-been looking to the time when we could
+live more for each other, and devote ourselves to the education of our
+children."'
+
+"Commendable and praiseworthy," said the Judge, with a half grunt,
+as though he had heard something of this-same domesticity and
+home-happiness, but that his own experiences scarcely corroborated the
+report. "There are-certain steps you will have to take before leaving
+the service; it may, then, be better to defer your public nomination to
+this post till they be taken?"
+
+This, which was said in question, Sewell answered at once, saying,
+"There need be no delay on this score, my Lord; by this day week I shall
+be free."
+
+"On this day week, then, you shall be duly sworn in. Now, there is
+another point--I throw it out simply as a suggestion--you will not
+receive it as more if you are indisposed to it. It may be some time
+before you can find a suitable house or be fully satisfied where to
+settle down. There is ample room here; one entire wing is unoccupied.
+May I beg to place it at your disposal?"
+
+"Oh, my Lord, this is really too much kindness. You overwhelm me with
+obligations. I have never heard of such generosity."
+
+"Sir, it is not all generosity,--I reckon much on the value of your
+society. Your companionable qualities are gifts I would secure by a
+'retainer.'"
+
+"In your society, my Lord, the benefits would be all on my side."
+
+"There was a time, sir,--I may say it without boastful-ness,--men
+thought me an agreeable companion. The three Chiefs, as we were called
+from our separate Courts, were reputed to be able talkers. I am the sole
+survivor; and it would be a gain to those who care to look back on the
+really great days of Ireland, if some record should remain of a time
+when there were giants in the land. I have myself some very curious
+materials--masses of letters and such-like--which we may turn over some
+winter's evening together."
+
+Sewell professed his delight at such a prospect; and the Judge
+then, suddenly bethinking himself of the hour,--it was already nigh
+eleven,--arose. "Can I set you down anywhere? Are you for town?" asked
+he.
+
+"Yes, my Lord; I was about to pay my mother a visit."
+
+"I 'll drop you there; perhaps you would convey a message from me,
+and say how grateful I should feel if she would give us her company at
+dinner,--say seven o'clock. I will just step up to say good-bye to my
+granddaughter, and be with you immediately."
+
+Sewell had not time to bethink him of all the strange events which a few
+minutes had grouped around him, when the Chief Baron appeared, and they
+set out.
+
+As they drove along, their converse was most agreeable. Sewell's
+attentive manner was an admirable stimulant, and the old Judge was
+actually sorry to lose his companion, as the carriage stopped at Lady
+Lendrick's door.
+
+"What on earth brought you up, Dudley?" said she, as he entered the room
+where she sat at breakfast.
+
+"Let me have something to eat, and I 'll tell you," said he, seating
+himself at table, and drawing towards him a dish of cutlets. "You may
+imagine what an appetite I have when I tell you whose guest I am."
+
+"Whose?"
+
+"Your husband's."
+
+"You! at the Priory! and how came that to pass?"
+
+"I told you already I must eat before I talk. When I got downstairs this
+morning, I found the old man just finishing his breakfast, and instead
+of asking me to join him, he entertained me with the siege of Derry, and
+some choice anecdotes of Lord Bristol and 'the Volunteers.' This coffee
+is cold."
+
+"Ring, and they 'll bring you some."
+
+"If I am to take him as a type of Irish hospitality as well as Irish
+agreeability, I must say I get rid of two delusions together."
+
+"There 's the coffee. Will you have eggs?"
+
+"Yes, and a rasher along with them. You can afford to be liberal with
+the larder, mother, for I bring you an invitation to dine."
+
+"At the Priory?"
+
+"Yes; he said seven o'clock."
+
+"Who dines there?"
+
+"Himself and his granddaughter and I make the company, I believe."
+
+"Then I shall not go. I never do go when there 's not a party."
+
+"He's safer, I suppose, before people?"
+
+"Just so. I could not trust to his temper under the temptation of a
+family circle. But what Drought you to town?"
+
+"He sent for me by telegraph; just, too, when I had the whole county
+with me, and was booked to ride a match I had made with immense trouble.
+I got his message,--'Come up immediately.' There was not the slightest
+reason for haste, nor for the telegraph at all. The whole could have
+been done by letter, and replied to at leisure, besides--"
+
+"What was it, then?"
+
+"It is a place he has given me,--a Registrarship of something in his
+Court, that he has been fighting the Castle people about for eighteen
+years, and to which Heaven knows if he has the right of appointment this
+minute."
+
+"What'sit worth?"
+
+"A thousand a year net. There were pickings,--at least, the last man
+made a good thing of them,--but there are to be no more. We are
+to inaugurate, as the newspapers say, a reign of integrity and
+incorruptibility."
+
+"So much the better."
+
+"So much the worse," say I. "My motto is, Full batta and plenty of loot;
+and it's every man's motto, only that every man is not honest enough to
+own it."
+
+"And when are you to enter upon the duties of your office?"
+
+"Immediately. I 'm to be sworn in--there's an oath, it seems--this day
+week, and we 're to take up our abode at the Priory till we find a house
+to suit us."
+
+"At the Priory?"
+
+"Yes. May I light a cigarette, mother: only one? He gave the invitation
+most royally. A whole wing is to be at our disposal. He said nothing
+about the cook or the wine-cellar, and these are the very ingredients I
+want to secure."
+
+She shook her head dubiously, but made no answer.
+
+"You don't think, then, that he meant to have us as his guests?"
+
+"I think it unlikely."
+
+"How shall I find out? It's quite certain I 'll not go live under his
+roof--which means his surveillance--without an adequate compensation. I
+'ll only consent to being bored by being fed."
+
+"House-rent is something, however."
+
+"Yes, mother, but not everything. That old man would be inquiring who
+dined with me, how late he stayed, who came to supper, and what they did
+afterwards. Now, if he take the whole charge of us, I 'll put up with a
+great deal, because I could manage a little '_pied a terre_' somewhere
+about Kingstown or Dalkey, and 'carry on' pleasantly enough. You
+must find out his intentions, mother, before I commit myself to an
+acceptance. You must, indeed."
+
+"Take my advice, Dudley, and look out for a house at once. You 'll not
+be in _his_ three weeks."
+
+"I can submit to a great deal when it suits me, mother," said he, with a
+derisive smile, and a look of intense treachery at the same time.
+
+"I suppose you can," said she, nodding in assent. "How is she?"
+
+"As usual," said he, with a shrug of the shoulders.
+
+"And the children?"
+
+"They are quite well. By the way, before I forget it, don't let the
+Judge know that I have already sent in my papers to sell out. I want him
+to believe that I do so now in consequence of his offer."
+
+"It is not likely we shall soon meet, and I may not have an opportunity
+of mentioning the matter."
+
+"You 'll come to dinner to-day, won't you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You ought, even out of gratitude on _my_ account. It would be only
+commonly decent to thank him."
+
+"I could n't."
+
+"Couldn't what? Couldn't come, or couldn't thank him?"
+
+"Could n't do either. You don't know, Dudley, that whenever our
+intercourse rises above the common passing courtesies of mere
+acquaintanceship, it is certain to end in a quarrel. We must never
+condemn or approve. We must never venture upon an opinion, lest it lead
+to a discussion, for discussion means a fight."
+
+"Pleasant, certainly,--pleasant and amiable too!"
+
+"It would be better, perhaps, that I had some of that happy disposition
+of my son," said she, with a cutting tone, "and could submit to whatever
+suited me."
+
+He started as if he had seen something, and turning on her a look of
+passionate anger, began: "Is it from _you_ that this should come?" Then
+suddenly recollecting himself, he subdued his tone, and said: "We 'll
+not do better by losing our tempers. Can you put me in the way to raise
+a little money? I shall have the payment for my commission in about a
+fortnight; but I want a couple of hundred pounds at once."
+
+"It's not two months since you raised five hundred."
+
+"I know it, and there 's the last of it. I left Lucy ten sovereigns
+when I came away, and this twenty pounds is all that I now have in the
+world."
+
+"And all these fine dinners and grand entertainments that I have been
+told of,--what was the meaning of them?"
+
+"They were what the railway people call 'preliminary expenses,' mother.
+Before one can get fellows to come to a house where there is play, there
+must be a sort of easy style of good living established that all men
+like: excellent dinners and good wine are the tame elephants, and
+without them you 'll not get the wild ones into your 'compounds.'"
+
+"And to tell me that this could pay!"
+
+"Ay, and pay splendidly. If I had three thousand pounds in the world to
+carry on with, I 'd see the old Judge and his rotten place at Jericho
+before I 'd accept it. One needs a little capital, that's all. It's
+just like blockade-running,--you must be able to lose three for one you
+succeed with."
+
+"I see nothing but ruin--disreputable ruin--in such a course."
+
+"Come down and look at it, mother, and you 'll change your mind. You
+'ll own you never saw a better ordered society in your life,--the _beau
+ideal_ of a nice country-house on a small scale. I admit our _chef_ is
+not a Frenchman, and I have only one fellow out of livery; but the thing
+is well done, I promise you. As for any serious play, you 'll never
+hear of it--never suspect it--no more than a man turning over Leech's
+sketches in a dentist's drawing-room suspects there's a fellow getting
+his eye-tooth extracted in the next room."
+
+"I disapprove of it all, Dudley. It is sure to end ill."
+
+"For that matter, mother, so shall I! All I have asked from Fate this
+many a year is a deferred sentence; a long day, my Lord,--a long day!"
+
+"Tell Sir William I am sorry I can't dine at the Priory to-day. It is
+one of my cruel headache-days. Say you found me looking very poorly.
+It puts him in good-humor to hear it; and if you can get away in the
+evening, come in to tea."
+
+"You will think of this loan I want,--won't you?"
+
+"I 'll think of it, but I don't know what good thinking will do." She
+paused, and after a few minutes' silence, said, "If you really are
+serious about taking up your abode at the Priory, you 'll have to get
+rid of the granddaughter."
+
+"We could marry her off easily enough."
+
+"You might, and you mightn't. If she marry to Sir William's
+satisfaction, he'll leave her all he has in the world."
+
+"Egad, he must have a rare taste in a son-in-law if he likes the fellow
+I 'll promote to the place."
+
+"You seem to forget, Dudley, that the young lady has a will of her own.
+She's a Lendrick too."
+
+"With all my heart, mother. She 'll not be a match for Lucy."
+
+"And would _she_--"
+
+"Ay, would she," interrupted he, "if her pride as a woman--if her
+jealousy was touched. I have made her do more than that when I wounded
+her self-love!"
+
+"You are a very amiable husband, I must say."
+
+"We might be better, perhaps, mother; but I suspect we are pretty much
+like our neighbors. And it's positive you won't come to dinner?"
+
+"No! certainly not."
+
+"Well, I 'll try and look in at tea-time. You 'll not forget what I
+spoke of. I shall be in funds in less than three weeks."
+
+She gave a little incredulous laugh as she said "Goodbye!" She had heard
+of such pledges before, and knew well what faith to attach to them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. EVENING AT THE PRIORY
+
+The Chief Baron brought his friend Haire back from Court to dine with
+him. The table had been laid for five, and it was only when Sewell
+entered the drawing-room that it was known Lady Lendrick had declined
+the invitation. Sir William heard the apology to the end; he even waited
+when Sewell concluded, to see if he desired to add anything more, but
+nothing came.
+
+"In that case," said he, at length, "we 'll order dinner." That his
+irritation was extreme needed no close observation to detect, and the
+bell-rope came down with the pull by which he summoned the servant.
+
+The dinner proceeded drearily enough. None liked to adventure on a
+remark which might lead to something unpleasant in discussion, and
+little was spoken on any side. Sewell praised the mutton, and the
+Chief Baron bowed stiffly. When Haire remarked that the pale sherry was
+excellent, he dryly told the butler to "fill Mr. Haire's glass;" and
+though Lucy, with more caution, was silent, she did not escape, for he
+turned towards her and said, "We have not been favored with a word
+from your lips, Miss Lendrick; I hope these neuralgic headaches are not
+becoming a family affection."
+
+"I am perfectly well, sir," said she, with a smile.
+
+"It is Haire's fault, then," said the Judge, with one of his malicious
+twinkles of the eye,--"all Haire's fault if we are dull. It is ever so
+with wits, Colonel Sewell; they will not perform to empty benches."
+
+"I don't know whom you call a wit," began Haire.
+
+"My dear friend, the men of pleasantry and happy conceits must no more
+deny the reputation that attaches to them than must a rich merchant
+dishonor his bill; nor need a man resent more being called a Wit, than
+being styled a Poet, a Painter, a Chief Baron, or"--here he waved his
+hand towards Sewell, and bowing slightly, added--"a Chief Registrar to
+the Court of Exchequer."
+
+"Oh, have you got the appointment?" said Haire to the Colonel. "I am
+heartily glad of it. I 'm delighted to know it has been given to one of
+the family."
+
+"As I said awhile ago," said the Judge, with a smile of deeper malice,
+"these witty fellows spare nobody! At the very moment he praises the
+sherry he disparages the host. Why should not this place be filled by
+one of my family, Haire? I call upon you to show cause."
+
+"There's no reason against it. I never said there was. Nay, I was far
+from satisfied with you on the day you refused my prayer on behalf of
+one belonging to you."
+
+"Sir, you are travelling out of the record," said the Judge, angrily.
+
+"I can only say," added Haire, "that I wish Colonel Sewell joy with all
+my heart; and if he 'll allow me, I 'll do it in a bumper."
+
+"'A reason fair to drink his health again!' That 's not the line. How
+does it go, Lucy? Don't you remember the verse?"
+
+"No, sir; I never heard it."
+
+"'A reason fair,--a reason fair.' I declare I believe the newspapers are
+right. I am losing my memory. One of the scurrilous rascals t'other day
+said they saw no reason Justice should be deaf as well as blind. Haire,
+was that yours?"
+
+"A thousand a year," muttered Haire to Sewell.
+
+"What is that, Haire?" cried the old Judge. "Do I hear you aright? You
+utter one thousand things just as good every year?"
+
+"I was speaking of the Registrar's salary," said Haire, half testily.
+
+"A thousand a year is a pittance,--a mere pittance, sir, in a country
+like England. It is like the place at a window to see a procession. You
+may gaze on the passing tide of humanity, but must not dare to mix in
+it."
+
+"And yet papa went half across the globe for it," said Lucy, with a
+flushed and burning cheek.
+
+"In your father's profession the rewards are less money, Lucy, than the
+esteem and regard of society. I have ever thought it wise of our rulers
+not to bestow titles on physicians, but to leave them the unobtrusive
+and undistinguished comforters of every class and condition. The equal
+of any,--the companion of all."
+
+It was evident that the old Judge was eager for discussion on anything.
+He had tried in vain to provoke each of his guests, and he was almost
+irritable at the deference accorded him.
+
+"Do I see you pass the decanter, Colonel Sewell? Are you not drinking
+any wine?"
+
+"No, my Lord."
+
+"Perhaps you like coffee? Don't you think, Lucy, you could give him
+some?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I shall be delighted."
+
+"Very well. Haire and I will finish this magnum, and then join you in
+the drawing-room."
+
+Lucy took Sewells arm and retired. They were scarcely well out of the
+room when Sewell halted suddenly, and in a voice so artificial that, if
+Lucy had been given to suspectfulness, she would have detected at
+once, said, "Is the Judge always as pleasant and as witty as we saw him
+today?"
+
+"To-day he was very far from himself; something, I 'm sure, must have
+irritated him, for he was not in his usual mood."
+
+"I confess I thought him charming; so full of neat reply, pleasant
+apropos, and happy quotation."
+
+"He very often has days of all that you have just said, and I am
+delighted with them."
+
+"What an immense gain to a young girl--of course, I mean one whose
+education and tastes have fitted her for it--to be the companion of such
+a mind as his! Who is this Mr. Haire?"
+
+"A very old friend. I believe he was a schoolfellow of grandpapa's."
+
+"Not his equal, I suspect, in ability or knowledge."
+
+"Oh, nothing like it; a most worthy man, respected by every one, and
+devotedly attached to grandpapa, but not clever."
+
+"The Chief, I remarked, called him witty," said Sewell with a faint
+twinkle in his eye.
+
+"It was done in jest. He is fond of fathering on him the smart sayings
+of the day, and watching his attempts to disown them."
+
+"And Haire likes that?"
+
+"I believe he likes grandpapa in every mood he has."
+
+"What an invaluable friend! I wish to Heaven he could find such another
+for me. I want--there 's nothing I want more than some one who would
+always approve of me."
+
+"Perhaps you might push this fidelity further than grandpapa does," said
+she, with a smile.
+
+"You mean that it might not always be so easy to applaud _me_."
+
+She only laughed, and made no effort to disclaim the assertion.
+
+"Well," said he, with a sigh, "who knows but if I live to be old and
+rich I may be fortunate enough to have such an accommodating friend?
+Who are the other 'intimates' here? I ask because we are going to be
+domesticated also."
+
+"I heard so this morning."
+
+"I hope with pleasure, though you have n't said as much."
+
+"With pleasure, certainly; but with more misgiving than pleasure."
+
+"Pray explain this."
+
+"Simply that the very quiet life we lead here would not be endurable by
+people who like the world, and whom the world likes. We never see any
+one, we never go out, we-have not even those second-hand glances at
+society that people have who admit gossiping acquaintances; in fact,
+regard what you have witnessed to-day as a dinner-party, and then
+fashion for yourself our ordinary life."
+
+"And do _you_ like it?"
+
+"I know nothing else, and I am tolerably happy. If papa and Tom were
+here, I should be perfectly happy."
+
+"By Jove! you startle me," said he, throwing away the unlighted cigar
+he had held for some minutes in his fingers; "I did n't know it was so
+bad."
+
+"It is possible he may relax for you and Mrs. Sewell; indeed, I think it
+more than likely that he will."
+
+"Ay, but the relaxation might only be in favor of a few more like that
+old gent we had to-day. No, no; the thing will never work. I see it at
+once. My mother said we could not possibly stand it three weeks, and I
+perceive it is your opinion too."
+
+"I did not say so much," said she, smiling.
+
+"Joking apart," said he, in a tone that assuredly bespoke sincerity, "I
+could n't stand such a dinner as we had to-day very often. I can bear
+being bullied, for I was brought up to it. I served on Rolffe's staff in
+Bombay for four years, and when a man has been an aide-de-camp he knows
+what being bullied means; but what I could not endure is that outpouring
+of conceit mingled with rotten recollections. Another evening of it
+would kill me."
+
+"I certainly would not advise your coming here at that price," said she,
+with a gravity almost comical.
+
+"The difficulty is how to get off. He appears to me to resent as an
+affront everything that differs from his own views."
+
+"He is not accustomed to much contradiction."
+
+"Not to any at all!"
+
+The energy with which he said this made her laugh heartily, and he half
+smiled at the situation himself.
+
+"They are coming upstairs," said she; "will you ring for tea?--the bell
+is beside you."
+
+"Oh, if they 're coming I 'm off. I promised my mother a short visit
+this evening. Make my excuses if I am asked for;" and with this he
+slipped from the room and went his way.
+
+"Where's the Colonel, Lucy? Has he gone to bed?"
+
+"No, sir, he has gone to see his mother; he had made some engagement to
+visit her this evening."
+
+"This new school of politeness is too liberal for my taste. When we were
+young men, Haire, we would not have ventured to leave the house where we
+had dined without saluting the host."
+
+"I take it we must keep up with the spirit of our time." "You mistake,
+Haire,--it is the spirit of our time is in arrear. It is that same
+spirit lagging behind, and deserting the post it once occupied, makes
+us seem in default. Let us have the cribbage-board, Lucy. Haire has said
+all the smart things he means to give us this evening, and I will take
+my revenge at the only game at which I am his master. Haire, who reads
+men like a book, Lucy," continued the Chief, as he dealt the cards,
+"says that our gallant friend will rebel against our humdrum life here.
+I demur to the opinion,--what say you?" But he was now deep in his game,
+and never heeded the answer.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. SEWELL'S TROUBLES
+
+"A letter for you by the post, sir, and his Lordship's compliments to
+say he is waiting breakfast," were the first words which Sewell heard
+the next morning.
+
+"Waiting breakfast! Tell him not to wait,--I mean, make my respects to
+his Lordship, and say I feel very poorly to-day,--that I think I 'll not
+get up just yet."
+
+"Would you like to see Dr. Beattie, sir? He's in the drawing-room."
+
+"Nothing of the kind. It's a complaint I caught in India; I manage it
+myself. Bring me up some coffee and rum in about an hour, and mind,
+don't disturb me on any account till then. What an infernal house!"
+muttered he, as the man withdrew. "A subaltern called up for morning
+parade has a better life than this. Nine o'clock only! What can this old
+ass mean by this pretended activity? Upon whom can it impose? Who will
+believe that it signifies a rush whether he lay abed till noon or rose
+by daybreak?" A gentle tap came to the door, but as he made no reply
+there came after a pause another, a little louder. Sewell still
+preserved silence, and at last the sound of retiring footsteps along the
+corridor. "Not if I know it," muttered he to himself, as he turned round
+and fell off asleep again.
+
+"The coffee, sir, and a despatch; shall I sign the receipt for you?"
+said the servant, as he reappeared about noon.
+
+"Yes; open the window a little, and leave me."
+
+Leaning on his arm, he tore open the envelope and glanced at the
+signature,--"Lucy." He then read, "Send down Eccles or Beattie by next
+train; he is worse." He read and re-read this at least half-a-dozen
+times over before he bethought him of the letter that lay still unopened
+on the bed.
+
+He now broke the seal; it was also from his wife, dated the preceding
+evening, and very brief:--
+
+"Dear Dudley,--Captain Trafford has had a severe fall. Crescy balked
+at the brook and fell afterwards. Trafford was struck on the head as he
+rose by Mr. Creagh's horse. It is feared the skull is fractured. You
+are much blamed for having asked him to ride a horse so much under his
+weight. All have refused to accept their bets but Kinshela the grocer.
+I have written to Sir H. Trafford, and I telegraphed to him Dr. Tobin's
+opinion, which is not favorable. I suppose you will come back at once;
+if not, telegraph what you advise to be done. Mr. Balfour is here still,
+but I do not find he is of much use. The veterinary decided Crescy
+should be shot, as the plate-bone, I think he called it, was
+fractured; and as he was in great pain, I consented. I hope I have done
+right.--Yours truly,
+
+"Lucy Sewell."
+
+"Here's a go! a horse I refused four hundred and fifty for on Tuesday
+last! I _am_ a lucky dog, there 's no denying it. I did n't know there
+was a man in Europe could have made that horse balk his fence. What
+a rumpus to make about a fellow getting a 'cropper'! My share of the
+disaster is a deuced deal the worst. I 'll never chance on such a horse
+again. How am I to find either of these men?" muttered he, as he took up
+the telegram. He rang the bell violently, and scarcely ceased to pull at
+it till the servant entered.
+
+"Where does Dr. Eccles live?"
+
+"Sir Gilbert, sir?"
+
+"Ay, if he be Sir Gilbert."
+
+"Merrion Square, sir," said the man reproachfully, for he thought it
+rather hard to ignore one of the great celebrities of the land.
+
+"Take this note to him, that I 'll write now, and if he be from home go
+to the other man,--what's his name?--Beattie."
+
+"Dr. Beattie is coming to dinner to-day, sir," said the servant,
+thinking to facilitate matters.
+
+"Just do as I tell you, my good fellow, and don't interrupt. If I am to
+take up my quarters here, you'll all of you have to change some of
+your present habits." As he spoke, he dashed off a few hasty lines,
+addressing them to Sir Gilbert Eccles or Dr. Beattie. "Ask if it's 'all
+right;' that will be sufficient reply; and now send me my bath." As he
+proceeded with his dressing,--a very lengthy affair it always was,--he
+canvassed with himself whether or not he ought to take the train and
+go down to the country with the doctor. Possibly few men in such
+circumstances would have given the matter a doubt. The poor fellow who
+had incurred the mishap had been, at his insistence, acting for him. Had
+it not been for Se well's pressing this task upon him, Trafford would
+at that moment have been hale and hearty. Sewell knew all this well; he
+read the event just as nineteen out of every twenty would have read
+it, but having done so, he proceeded to satisfy himself why all these
+reasonings should give way to weightier considerations.
+
+First of all, it would not be quite convenient to let the old Judge know
+anything of these doings in the country. His strait-laced notions might
+revolt at races and betting-rings. It might not be perhaps decorous that
+a registrar of a high court should be the patron of such sports. These
+were prudential reasons, which he dilated on for some time. Then came
+some, others more sentimental. It was to a house of doctors and nurses
+and gloom and sorrow he should go back. All these were to him peculiarly
+distasteful. He should be tremendously "bored" by it all, and being
+"bored" was to him whatever was least tolerable in life. It was strange
+that there was one other reason stronger than all these,--a reason that
+really touched him in what was the nearest thing in his nature to heart.
+He couldn't go back and look at the empty loose-box where his favorite
+horse once stood, and where he was never to stand more. Crescy the
+animal he was so proud of,--the horse he counted on for who knows what
+future triumphs,--the first steeplechase horse, he felt convinced, in
+Ireland, if not in the kingdom,--such strength, such power in the loins,
+such square joints, such courage, should he ever see united again? If
+there was anything in that man's nature that represented affection, he
+had it for this horse. He knew well to what advantage he looked when on
+his back,--he knew what admiration and envy it drew upon him to see
+him thus mounted. He had won him at billiards from a man who was half
+broken-hearted at parting with him, and who offered immense terms rather
+than lose him.
+
+"He said I'd have no luck with him," muttered Sewell, now in his
+misery,--"and, confound the fellow! he was right. No, I can't go back to
+look at his empty stall. It would half kill me."
+
+It was very real grief, all this; he was as thoroughly heart-sore as it
+was possible for him to be. He sorrowed for what nothing in his future
+life could replace to him; and this is a very deep sorrow.
+
+Trafford's misfortune was so much the origin and cause of his own
+disaster that he actually thought of him with bitterness. The man who
+could make Crescy balk! What fate could be too hard for him?
+
+Nor was he quite easy in his mind about that passage in his wife's
+letter stating that men would not take their bets. Was this meant as
+reflecting upon him? Was it a censure on him for making Trafford ride
+a horse beneath his weight? "They get up some stupid cry of that sort,"
+muttered he, "as if I am not the heaviest loser of all. I lost a horse
+that was worth a score of Traffords."
+
+When dressed, Sewell went down to the garden and lit his cigar. His
+sorrow had grown calmer, and he began to think that in the new life
+before him he should have had to give up horses and sport of every kind.
+"I must make my book now on this old fellow, and get him to make me his
+heir. He cares little for his son, and he can be made to care just as
+little for his granddaughter. That's the only game open to me,--a dreary
+life it promises to be, but it's better than a jail."
+
+The great large wilderness of a garden, stretching away into an orchard
+at the end, was in itself a place to suggest sombre thoughts,--so
+silent and forsaken did it all appear. The fruit lay thick on the ground
+uncared for; the artichokes, grown to the height of shrubs, looked
+monsters of uncouthness; and even in the alleys flower-seeds had fallen
+and given birth to flowers, which struggled up through the gravel and
+hung their bright petals over the footway. There was in the neglect, the
+silence, the un-cared-for luxuriance of the place, all that could make
+a moody man moodier; and as he knocked off the great heads of the tall
+hollyhocks, he thought, and even said aloud, "This is about as much
+amusement as such a spot offers."
+
+"Oh no, not so bad as that," said a laughing voice; and Lucy peeped over
+a laurel-hedge with a rake in her hand, and seemed immensely amused at
+his discomfiture.
+
+[Illustration: 302]
+
+"Where are you?--I mean, how is one to come near you?" said he, trying
+to laugh, but not successfully.
+
+"Go round yonder by the fish-pond, and you 'll find a wicket. This is
+_my_ garden, and I till it myself."
+
+"So!" said he, entering a neat little enclosure, with beds of flowers
+and flowering shrubs, "this is your garden?"
+
+"Yes,--what do you think of it?"
+
+"It's very pretty,--it 's very nice. I should like it larger, perhaps."
+
+"So would I; but, being my own gardener, I find it quite big enough."
+
+"Why doesn't the Chief give you a gardener?--he's rich enough, surely."
+
+"He never cared for gardening himself. Indeed, I think it is the wild
+confusion of foliage here that he likes. He said to me one day, 'In _my_
+old garden a man loses himself in thought. In this trimly kept place one
+is ever occupied by the melon-frame or the forcing-house.'"
+
+"That's the dreadful thing about old people; they are ever for making
+the whims and crotchets of age the rules of life to others. I wonder you
+bear this so well."
+
+"I didn't know that I bore anything," said she, with a smile.
+
+"That's true slave doctrine, I must say; and when one does not feel
+bondage, there's no more to be said."
+
+"I suspect I have a great deal more freedom than most girls; my time is
+almost all my own, to dispose of as I will. I read, or play, or walk,
+or work, as I feel inclined. If I wish to occupy myself with household
+matters, I am the mistress here."
+
+"In other words, you are free to do everything that is not worth
+doing,--you lead the life of a nun in a convent, only that you have not
+even a sister nun to talk to."
+
+"And which are the things you say are worth doing?"
+
+"Would you not care to go out into the world, to mix in society, to go
+to balls, theatres, fetes, and such-like? Would you not like to ride? I
+don't mean it for flattery, but would you not, like the admiration you
+would be sure to meet,--the sort of homage people render to beauty,
+the ouly tribute the world ever paid freely,--are all these not worth
+something?"
+
+"I am sure they are: they are worth a great deal to those who can enjoy
+them with a happy heart; but remember, Colonel Se well, I have a father
+living in exile, simply to earn a livelihood, and I have a brother
+toiling for his bread in a strange land: is it likely I could forget
+these, or is it likely that I could carry such cares about with me, and
+enjoy the pleasures you tell of?"
+
+"Oh! as for that, I never met the man, nor woman either, that could
+bring into the world a mind unburdened by care. You must take life as it
+is. If I was to wait for a heart at ease before I went into society, I
+'d have to decline a few dinner-parties. Your only chance of a little
+respite, besides, is at your age. The misfortunes of life begin as a
+little drizzle, but become a regular downpour when one gets to _my_ time
+of life. Let me just tell you what this morning brought forth. A letter
+and then a telegram from my wife, to tell me that my favorite horse--an
+animal worth five hundred pounds if he was worth five shillings--the
+truest, bravest, best horse I ever backed--has just been killed by a
+stupid fellow I got to ride for me. What he did to make the horse refuse
+his leap, what magic he used, what conjuring trick he performed, I can't
+tell. With _me_ it was enough to show him his fence, and if I wanted it
+I could n't have held him back. But this fellow--a dragoon, too, and the
+crack rider of his regiment--contrives to discourage my poor beast, then
+rushes him at the jump at half speed. I know it was a widish brook, and
+they tumbled in, and my horse smashed his blade bone,--of course there
+was nothing for it but to shoot him."
+
+"How sad! I am really sorry for you."
+
+"And all this came of the old Judge's message, the stupidity of sending
+me five words in a telegram, instead of writing a proper note, and
+saying what he wanted. But for that I 'd have stayed at home, ridden my
+horse, won my match, and spared myself the whole disaster."
+
+"Grandpapa is often very hasty in his decisions, but I believe he seldom
+sees cause to revoke them."
+
+"The old theory, 'The King can do no wrong,'" said Sewell, with a saucy
+laugh; "but remember he can often do a deal of mischief incidentally, as
+it were,--as on the present occasion."
+
+"And the rider, what of him? Did he escape unhurt?" said she, eager to
+avoid unpleasant discussion.
+
+"The rider! my dear young lady," said he, with affected slowness,--"the
+rider came to grief. What he did, or how he did it, to throw my poor
+horse down, is his own secret, and, from what I hear, he is likely to
+keep it. No, no, don't look so horrified,--he's not killed, but I don't
+suspect he's a long way off it. He got a smashing fall at a fence I 'd
+have backed myself to ride with my hands tied. Ay, and to have my good
+horse back again, I 'd ride in that fashion to-morrow."
+
+"And the poor fellow, where is he now?"
+
+"The poor fellow is receiving the very sweetest of Mrs. Sewell's
+attentions. He is at my house,--in all likelihood in my room,--not that
+he is very conscious of all the favors bestowed upon him."
+
+"Oh, don't talk with that pretended indifference! You must be, you
+cannot help being, deeply sorry for what has happened."
+
+"There can be very little doubt on that score. I've lost such a horse as
+I never shall own again."
+
+"Pray think of something beside your horse. Who was he? What's his
+name?"
+
+"A stranger,--an Englishman; you never heard of him; and I wish I had
+never heard of him!"
+
+"What are you smiling at?" said she, after a pause, for he stood as
+though reflecting, and a very strange half-smile moved his mouth.
+
+"I was just thinking," said he, gravely, "what his younger brother ought
+to give me; for this fellow was an elder son, and heir to a fine estate
+too."
+
+She turned an indignant glance towards him, and moved away. He was
+quickly after her, however, and, laying his hand on her arm, said
+good-humoredly: "Come, don't be angry with me. I 'm sorry, if you
+like,--I 'm very sorry for this poor fellow. I won't say that my own
+loss does not dash my sorrow with a little anger,--he was such a horse!
+and the whole thing was such a blunder! as fair a brook,--with a high
+bank, it's true,--but as fair a fence as ever & man rode at, and ground
+like this we 're walking over to take off from."
+
+"Is he in danger?"
+
+"I believe so; here's what my wife says. Oh, I haven't got the letter
+about me, but it comes to this, I was to send down one of the best
+doctors by the first train, telling him it was a case of compression
+or concussion, which is it? And so I have despatched Beattie, your
+grandfather's man. I suppose there 's no better?"
+
+"But why have you not gone back yourself? He was a friend, was he not?"
+
+"Yes, he was what people would call a friend. I 'm like the hare in the
+fable, I have many friends; but if I must be confidential, I 'll tell
+you why I did _not_ go. I had a notion, just as likely to be wrong
+as right, that the Chief would take offence at his Registrar being a
+sporting character, and that if I were to absent myself just now, he'd
+find out the reason, whereas by staying here I could keep all quiet, and
+when Beattie came back I could square _him_."
+
+"You could what?"
+
+"A thousand pardons for my bit of slang; but the fact is, just as one
+talks French when he wants to say nothings, one takes to slang when one
+requires to be shifty. I meant to say, I could manage to make the doctor
+hold his tongue."
+
+"Not if grandpapa were to question him."
+
+Sewell smiled, and shook his head in dissent.
+
+"No, no. You're quite mistaken in Dr. Beattie; and what's more, you 're
+quite mistaken in grandpapa too, if you imagine that he 'll think the
+better of you for forgetting the claims of friendship."
+
+"There was none."
+
+"Well, of humanity, then! It was in _your_ cause this man suffered, and
+it is in _your_ house he lies ill. I think you ought to be there also."
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"I 'm sure of it. You know the world a great deal better than I do,
+and you can tell what people will say of your absence; but I think it
+requires no knowledge of more than one's own nature to feel what is
+right and proper here."
+
+"Indeed!" said he, reflectingly.
+
+"Don't you agree with me?"
+
+"Perhaps,--that is, in part. I suppose what you mean about the world is,
+that there will be some scandal afloat, the 'young wife' story, and all
+that sort of balderdash?"
+
+"I really do not understand you."
+
+"You don't?"
+
+"No. Certainly not. What do you mean?"
+
+"Possibly you did not understand me. Well, if I am to go, there 's no
+time to be lost. It's four o'clock already, and the last train leaves at
+five-forty. I will go."
+
+"You are quite right."
+
+"You 'll make my excuses to the Chief. You 'll tell him that my wife's
+message was so alarming that I could not delay my departure. Beattie
+will probably be back tomorrow, and bring you news of us."
+
+"Won't you write a few lines?"
+
+"I 'm not sure,--I 'll not promise. I'm a bad penman, but my wife will
+write, I 've no doubt. Say all sorts of affectionate and dutiful things
+to the Chief for me; tell him I went away in despair at not being able
+to say good-bye; he likes that style of thing, does n't he?"
+
+"I don't think he cares much for 'that style of thing,'" said she, with
+a saucy smile.
+
+"What a capital mimic you are! Do you know I am just beginning to
+suspect that you are, for all your quiet simplicity of manner, a deuced
+deep one. Am I right?"
+
+She shook her head, but made no reply.
+
+"Not that I 'd like you the less for it," said he, eagerly; "on the
+contrary, we 'd understand each other all the better; there's nothing
+like people talking the same language, eh?"
+
+"I hope you'll not lose your train," said she, looking at her watch; "I
+am half-past four."
+
+"A broad hint," said he, laughing; "bye-bye,--_a bientot_."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. BEATTIE'S RETURN
+
+The old Chief sat alone in his dining-room over his wine. If somewhat
+fatigued by the labors of the day,--for the Court had sat late,--he
+showed little of exhaustion; still less was he, as his years might have
+excused, drowsy or heavy. He sat bolt upright in his chair, and by an
+occasional gesture of his hand, or motion of his head, seemed as though
+he were giving assent to some statement he was listening to, or making
+his comments on it as it proceeded.
+
+The post had brought a letter to Lucy just as dinner was over. It bore
+the post-mark "Cagliari," and was in her brother's hand; and the old
+man, with considerate kindness, told her to go to her room and read it.
+"No, my dear child," said he, as she arose to leave the room; "no! I
+shall not be lonely,--where there is memory there are troops of friends.
+Come back and tell me your news when you have read your letter."
+
+More than an hour passed over, and he sat there heedless of time. A
+whole long life was passing in review before him, not connectedly, or in
+due sequence of events, but in detached scenes and incidents. Now it
+was some stormy night in the old Irish House, when Flood and Grattan
+exchanged their terrific denunciations and insults,--now it was a
+brilliant dinner at Ponsonby's, with all the wits of the day,--now he
+was leading the famous Kitty O'Dwyer, the beauty of the Irish Court, to
+her carriage, amid such a murmur of admiration as made the progress a
+triumph; or, again, it was a raw morning of November, and he was driving
+across the park to be present at Curran's meeting with Egan.
+
+A violent ring of the hall bell startled him, and before he could
+inquire the cause a servant had announced Dr. Beattie.
+
+"I thought I might be fortunate enough to catch you before bed-hour,"
+said the doctor, "and I knew you would like to hear some tidings of my
+mission."
+
+"You have been to--Where have you been?" said the old Judge, embarrassed
+between the late flood of his recollections and the sudden start of his
+arrival.
+
+"To Killaloe, to see that poor fellow who had the severe fall in the
+hurdle-race."
+
+"Ay--to be sure--yes. I remember all now. Give me a moment, however." He
+nodded his head twice or thrice, as if concurring with some statement,
+and then said, "Go on, sir; the Court is with you."
+
+Beattie proceeded to detail the accident and the state of the
+sufferer,--of whom he pronounced favorably,--saying that there was no
+fracture, nor anything worse than severe concussion. "In fact," said he,
+"were it an hospital case, I'd say there was very little danger."
+
+"And do you mean to tell me, sir," said the Judge, who had followed the
+narrative with extreme attention, "that the man of birth and blood must
+succumb in any conflict more readily than the low-born?"
+
+"It's not the individual I was thinking of, so much as his belongings
+here. What I fear for in the present case is what the patient must
+confront every day of his convalescence."
+
+Seeing that the Judge waited for some explanation, Beattie began to
+relate that, as he had started from Dublin the day before, he found
+himself in the same carriage with the young man's mother, who had been
+summoned by telegraph to her son's bedside.
+
+"I have met," said he, "in my time, nearly all sorts and conditions
+of people. Indeed, a doctor's life brings him into contact with more
+maladies of nature and temperament than diseases of material origin;
+but anything like this woman I never saw before. To begin: she combined
+within herself two qualities that seem opposed to each other,--a most
+lavish candor on the score of herself and her family, and an intense
+distrust of all the rest of mankind. She told me she was a baronet's
+wife; how she had married him; where they lived; what his estate was
+worth; how this young fellow had become, by the death of a brother, the
+heir to the property; and how his father, indignant at his extravagance,
+had disentailed the estate, to leave it to a younger son if so disposed.
+She showed at times the very greatest anxiety about her son's state; but
+at other moments just as intense an eagerness to learn what schemes and
+intrigues were being formed against him,--who were the people in whose
+house he then was, what they were, and how he came there. To all my
+assurances that they were persons in every respect her son's equals,
+she answered by a toss of the head or a saucy half-laugh. 'Irish?' asked
+she. 'Yes, Irish.' 'I thought so,' rejoined she; 'I told Sir Hugh I
+was sure of it, though he said there were English Sewells.' From this
+instant her distrust broke forth. All Ireland had been in a conspiracy
+against her family for years. She had a brother, she said it with a
+shiver of horror, who was cruelly beaten by an attorney in Cork for a
+little passing pleasantry to the man's sister; he had kissed her, or
+something of the kind, in a railroad carriage; and her cousin,--poor
+dear Cornwall is Merivale,--it was in Ireland he found that creature
+that got the divorce against him two years since. She went on to say
+that there had been a plot against her son, in the very neighborhood
+where he now lay ill, only a year ago,--some intrigue to involve him in
+a marriage, the whole details of which she threatened me with the first
+time we should be alone.
+
+"Though at some moments expressing herself in terms of real affection
+and anxiety about her poor son, she would suddenly break off to
+speculate on what might happen from his death. 'You know, doctor, there
+is only one more boy, and if his life lapsed, Holt and the Holt estate
+goes to the Carringtons.'"
+
+"An odious woman, sir,--a most odious woman; I only wonder why you
+continued to travel in the same carriage with her."
+
+"My profession teaches great tolerance," said the doctor, mildly.
+
+"Don't call tolerance, sir, what there is a better word
+for,--subserviency. I am amazed how you endured this woman."
+
+"Remember--it is to'be remembered--that in my version of her I have
+condensed the conversation of some hours, and given you, as it were, the
+substance of much talking; and also that I have not attempted to convey
+what certainly was a very perfect manner. She had no small share of
+good looks, a very sweet voice, and considerable attraction in point of
+breeding."
+
+"I will accept none of these as alleviations, sir; her blandishments
+cannot blind the Court."
+
+"I will not deny their influence upon myself," said Beattie, gently.
+
+"I can understand you, sir," said the Judge, pompously. "The habits of
+your profession teach you to swallow so much that is nauseous in a sweet
+vehicle, that you carry the same custom into morals."
+
+Beattie laughed so heartily at the analogy that the old man's good-humor
+returned to him, and he bade him continue his narrative.
+
+"I have not much more to tell. We reached the house by about eleven
+o'clock at night, and my fellow-traveller sat in the carriage till I
+announced her to Mrs. Sewell. My own cares called me to the sick-room,
+and I saw no more of the ladies till this morning, just before I came
+away."
+
+"She is, then, domesticated there? She has taken up her quarters at the
+Sewells' house?"
+
+"Yes. I found her maid, too, had taken possession of Colonel Sewell's
+dressing-room, and dispossessed a number of his chattels to make room
+for her own."
+
+"It is a happy thing, a very happy thing for me, that I have not been
+tried by these ordeals," said the Judge, with a long-drawn breath. "I
+wonder how Colonel Sewell will endure it."
+
+"I have no means of knowing; he arrived late at night, and was still in
+bed and asleep when I left."
+
+"You have not told me these people's name?"
+
+"Trafford,--Sir Hugh Beecham Trafford, of Holt-Trafford, Staffordshire."
+
+"I have met the man, or rather his father, for it was nigh fifty years
+ago,--an old family, and of Saxon origin; and his wife,--who was she?"
+
+"Her name was Merivale. Her father, I think, was Governor of Madras."
+
+"If so, sir, she has hereditary claims for impertinence and presumption.
+Sir Ulysses Merivale enjoyed the proud distinction of being the most
+insolent man in England. It is well that you have told me who she was,
+Beattie, for I might have made a very fatal blunder. I was going to
+write to Sewell to say, 'As this is a great issue, I would advise you
+to bring down your mother, "special,"' but I recall my intention. Lady
+Lendrick would have no chance against Lady Trafford. Irish insolence has
+not the finish of the English article, and we put an alloy of feeling in
+it that destroys it altogether. Will the young man recover?"
+
+"He is going on favorably, and I see nothing to apprehend, except,
+indeed, that the indiscretions of his mother may prejudice his case. She
+is very likely to insist on removing him; she hinted it to me as I took
+my leave."
+
+"I will write to the Sewells to come up here at once. They shall
+evacuate the territory, and leave her in possession. As persons closely
+connected with my family, they must not have this outrage put upon
+them." He rang the bell violently, and desired the servant to request
+Miss Lendrick to come to him.
+
+"She is not very well, my Lord, and has gone to her room. She told Mrs.
+Beales to serve your Lordship's tea when you were ready for it."
+
+"What is this? What does all this mean?" said the old Judge, eagerly;
+for the idea of any one presuming to be ill without duly apprising
+him--without the preliminary step of ascertaining that it could not
+inconvenience him--was more than he was fully prepared for.
+
+"Tell Mrs. Beales I want her," said he, as he rose and left the room.
+Muttering angrily as he went, he ascended the stairs and traversed the
+long corridor which led to Lucy's room; but before he had reached the
+door the housekeeper was at his side.
+
+"Miss Lucy said she 'd like to see your Lordship, if it was n't too much
+trouble, my Lord."
+
+"I am going to see her. Ask her if I may come in."
+
+"Yes, my Lord," said Mrs. Beales from the open door. "She is awake."
+
+"My own dear grandpapa," said Lucy, stretching out her arms to him from
+her bed, "how good and kind of you to come here!"
+
+"My dear, dear child," said he, fondly; "tell me you are not ill; tell
+me that it is a mere passing indisposition."
+
+"Not even so much, grandpapa. It is simply a headache. I was crying, and
+I was ashamed that you should see it; and I walked out into the air; and
+I came back again, trying to look at ease; and my head began to throb
+and to pain me so that I thought it best to go to bed. It was a letter I
+got,--a letter from Cagliari. Poor Tom has had the terrible fever of
+the island. He said nothing about it at first, but now he has relapsed.
+There are only three lines in his own hand,--the rest is from his
+friend. You shall see what he says. It is very short, and not very hard
+to read."
+
+The old man put on his spectacles and read:--
+
+"'My very dear Lucy.'
+
+"Who presumes to address you in this way? 'Brook Fossbrooke?' What! is
+this the man who is called Sir Brook Fossbrooke? By what means have you
+become so intimate with a person of his character?"
+
+"I know nothing better, nothing more truly noble and generous, than his
+character," said she, holding her temples as she spoke, for the pain of'
+her head was almost agony. "Do read on,--read on, dearest grandpapa."
+
+He turned again to the letter, and read it over in silence till he came
+to the few words in Tom's hand, which he read aloud: "Darling Lu--I
+shall be all right in a week. Don't fret, but write me a long--long"--he
+had forgotten the word "letter,"--"and love me always."
+
+She burst into tears, as the old man read the words, for by some strange
+magic, the syllables of deep affection, uttered by one unmoved, smite
+the heart with a pang that is actual torture.
+
+"I will take this letter down to Beattie, Lucy, and hear what he says of
+it," said the old man, and left the room.
+
+"Read this, Beattie, and tell me what you say to it," said the Chief
+Baron, as he handed the doctor Sir Brook's letter; "I'll tell you of the
+writer when you have read it."
+
+Beattie read the note in silence, and as he laid it on the table said,
+"I know the man, and his strange old-fashioned writing would have
+recalled him without his name."
+
+"And what do you know of him, sir?" asked the Judge, sternly.
+
+"I can tell you the story in three words: He came to consult me one
+morning, about six or eight months ago. It was about an insurance on his
+life,--a very small sum he wanted to raise, to go out to this very place
+he writes from. He got to talk about the project, and I don't exactly
+know how it came about,--I forget the details now,--but it ended by my
+lending him the money myself."
+
+"What, sir! do you combine usury with physic?"
+
+"On that occasion I appear to have done so," said Beattie, laughing.
+
+"And you advanced a sum of money to a man whom you saw for the first
+time, simply on his showing that his life was too insecure to guarantee
+repayment?"
+
+"That puts the matter a little too nakedly."
+
+"It puts it truthfully, sir, I apprehend."
+
+"If you mean that the man impressed me so favorably that I was disposed
+to do him a small service, you are right."
+
+"You and I, Beattie, are too old for this impulsive generosity,--too old
+by thirty years! After forty philanthropy should take a chronic form,
+and never have paroxysms. I think I am correct in my medical language."
+
+"Your medicine pleases me more than your morality," said Beattie,
+laughing; "but to come back to this Sir Brook, I wish you had seen him."
+
+"Sir, I have seen him, and I have heard of him, and if not at liberty
+to say what I have heard of him, it is quite enough to state that _my_
+information cannot corroborate _your_ opinion."
+
+"Well, my Lord, the possibility of what I might hear will not shake the
+stability of what I have seen. Remember that we doctors imagine we read
+human nature by stronger spectacles than the laity generally."
+
+"You imagine it, I am aware, sir; but I have met with no such instances
+of acuteness amongst your co-professionals as would sustain the claim;
+but why are we wandering from the record? I gave you that letter to read
+that you might tell me, is this boy's case a dangerous one?"
+
+"It is a very grave case, no doubt; this is the malaria fever of
+Sardinia,--bad enough with the natives, but worse with strangers. He
+should be removed to better air at once if he could bear removal."
+
+"So is it ever with your art," said the Judge, in a loud declamatory
+voice. "You know nothing in your difficulties but a piteous entreaty to
+the unknown resources of nature to assist you. No, sir; I will not
+hear your defence; there is no issue before the Court. What sort of
+practitioners have they in this island?"
+
+"Rude enough, I can believe."
+
+"Could a man of eminence be found to go out there and see him?"
+
+"A man in large practice could not spare the time; but there are men of
+ability who are not yet in high repute: one of these might be possibly
+induced."
+
+"And what might the expense be?"
+
+"A couple of hundred--say three hundred pounds, would perhaps suffice."
+
+"Go upstairs and see my granddaughter. She is very nervous and feverish;
+calm her mind so far as you are able; say that we are concerting
+measures for her brother's benefit; and by the time you shall come down
+again I will have made up my mind what to do."
+
+Beattie was a valued friend of Lucy's, and she was glad to see him enter
+her room, but she would not suffer him to speak of herself; it was
+of poor Tom alone she would talk. She heard with delight the generous
+intentions of her grandfather, and exclaimed with rapture,--"This is his
+real nature, and yet it is only by the little foibles of his temper that
+the world knows him; but we, doctor,--we, who see him as he is, know how
+noble-hearted and affectionate he can be!"
+
+"I must hasten back to him," said Beattie, after a short space; "for
+should he decide on sending out a doctor, I must lose no time, as I must
+return to see this young fellow at Killaloe to-morrow."
+
+"Oh, in my greater anxieties I forgot him! How is he,--can he recover?"
+
+"Yes, I regard him as out of danger,--that is, if Lady Trafford can be
+persuaded not to talk him into a relapse."
+
+"Lady Trafford! who is she?"
+
+"His mother; she arrived last night."
+
+"And his name is Trafford, and his Christian name Lionel?"
+
+"Lionel Wentworth Trafford. I took it from his dressing-case when I
+prescribed for him."
+
+Lucy had been leaning on her arm as she spoke, but she now sank slowly
+backward and fainted.
+
+It was a long time before consciousness came back, and even then she
+lay voiceless and motionless, and, though she heard what Beattie said
+to her, unable to speak to him, or intimate by a gesture that she heard
+him.
+
+The doctor needed no confidences,--he read the whole story. There are
+expressions in the human face which have no reference to physical ills;
+nor are there any indications of bodily suffering. He who asked, "Canst
+thou minister to a mind diseased?" knew how hopeless was his question;
+and this very despair it is--this sense of an affliction beyond the
+reach of art--gives a character to the expression which the doctor's eye
+never fails to discriminate from the look worn by mere malady.
+
+As she lay there motionless, her large eyes looking at him with that
+expression in which eagerness struggles against debility, he saw how he
+had become her confidant.
+
+"Come, my dear child," said he, taking her hand between both his own,
+"you have no occasion for fears on this score,--so far I assure you on
+my honor."
+
+She gave his hand a slight, a very slight pressure, and tried to say
+something, but could not. "I will go down now, and see what is to be
+done about your brother." She nodded, and he continued: "I will pay you
+another visit to-morrow early, before I leave town, and let me find
+you strong and hearty; and remember that though I force no confidences,
+Lucy, I will not refuse them if you offer."
+
+"I have none, sir,--none," said she, in a voice of deep melancholy.
+
+"So that I know all that is to be known?" asked he.
+
+"All, sir," said she, with a trembling lip.
+
+"Well, accept me as a friend whom you may trust, my dear Lucy. If you
+want me, I will not fail you; and if you have no need of me, there is
+nothing that has passed to-day between us ever to be remembered,--you
+understand me?"
+
+"I do, sir. You will come to-morrow, won't you?"
+
+He nodded assent, and left her.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. AN EXIT
+
+Colonel Sewell stood at the window of a small drawing-room he
+called "his own," watching the details of loading a very cumbrous
+travelling-carriage which was drawn up before the door. Though the
+postilions were in the saddle, and all ready for a start, the process of
+putting up the luggage went on but slowly,--now a heavy imperial
+would be carried out, and after a while taken in again; dressing-boxes
+carefully stowed away would be disinterred to be searched for some
+missing article; bags, baskets, and boxes of every shape and sort came
+and went and came again; and although the two footmen who assisted these
+operations showed in various ways what length of training had taught
+them to submit to in the way of worry and caprice, the smart "maid," who
+now and then appeared to give some order, displayed most unmistakable
+signs of ill-humor on her face. "Drat those dogs! I wish they were down
+the river!" cried she, of two yelping, barking Maltese terriers, which,
+with small bells jingling on their collars, made an uproar that was
+perfectly deafening.
+
+"Well, Miss Morris, if it would oblige _you_--" said one of the tall
+footmen, as he caressed his whisker, and gave a very languishing
+look, more than enough, he thought, to supply the words wanting to his
+sentence.
+
+"It would oblige _me_ very much, Mr. George, to get away out of this
+horrid place. I never did--no, never--in all my life pass such a ten
+days."
+
+"We ain't a-going just yet, after all," said footman number two, with a
+faint yawn.
+
+"It's so like you, Mr. Breggis, to say something disagreeable," said
+she, with a toss of her head.
+
+"It's because it's true I say it, not because it's onpleasant, Miss
+Caroline."
+
+"I'm not Miss Caroline, at least from you, Mr. Breggis."
+
+"Ain't she haughty,--ain't she fierce?" But his colleague would not
+assent to this judgment, and looked at her with a longing admiration.
+
+"There's her bell again," cried the girl; "as sure as I live, she's rung
+forty times this morning;" and she hurried back to the house.
+
+"Why do you think we're not off yet?" asked George.
+
+"It's the way I heerd her talking that shows me," replied the other.
+"Whenever she 's really about to leave a place she goes into them fits
+of laughing and crying and screaming one minute, and a-whimpering the
+next; and then she tells the people--as it were, unknownst to her--how
+she hated them all,--how stingy they was,--the shameful way they starved
+the servants, and such-like. There's some as won't let her into their
+houses by reason of them fits, for she'll plump out everything she knows
+of a family,--who ran away with the Misses, and why the second daughter
+went over to France."
+
+"You know her better than me, Breggis."
+
+"I do think I does; it's eight years I 've had of it. Eh, what's
+that,--was n't that a screech?" and as he spoke a wild shrill scream
+resounded through the house, followed by a rapid succession of notes
+that might either have been laughter or crying.
+
+Sewell drew the curtain; and wheeling an arm-chair to the fireside, lit
+his cigar, and began to smoke.
+
+The house was so small that the noises could be heard easily in every
+part of it; and for a time the rapid passage of persons overhead, and
+the voices of many speaking together, could be detected, and, above
+these, a wild shriek would now and then rise above all, and ring through
+the house. Sewell smoked on undisturbed; it was not easy to say that he
+so much as heard these sounds. His indolent attitude, and his seeming
+enjoyment of his cigar, indicated perfect composure; nor even when the
+door opened, and his wife entered the room, did he turn his head to see
+who it was.
+
+"Can William have the pony to go into town?" asked she, in a
+half-submissive voice.
+
+"For what?"
+
+"To tell Dr. Tobin to come out; Lady Trafford is taken ill."
+
+"He can go on foot; I may want the pony."
+
+"She is alarmingly ill, I fear,--very violent spasms; and I don't think
+there is any time to be lost."
+
+"Nobody that makes such a row as that can be in any real danger."
+
+"She is in great pain, at all events."
+
+"Send one of her own people,--despatch one of the postboys,--do what you
+like, only don't bore _me_."
+
+She was turning to leave the room, when he called out, "I say, when the
+attack came on did she take the opportunity to tell you any pleasant
+little facts about yourself or your family?" She smiled faintly, and
+moved towards the door. "Can't you tell me, ma'am? Has this woman been
+condoling with you over your hard fate and your bad husband? or has she
+discovered how that 'dear boy' upstairs broke his head as well as his
+heart in your service?"
+
+"She did ask me certainly if there was n't a great friendship between
+you and her son," said she, with a tone of quiet disdain.
+
+"And what did you reply?" said he, throwing one leg over the arm of the
+chair as he swung round to face her.
+
+"I don't well remember. I may have said _you_ liked _him_, or that _he_
+liked _you_. It was such a commonplace reply I made, I forget it."
+
+"And was that all that passed on the subject?"
+
+"I think I'd better send for the doctor," said she, and left the room
+before he could stop her, though that such was his intention was evident
+from the way he arose from his chair with a sudden spring.
+
+"You shall hear more of this, Madam,--by Heaven, you shall!" muttered
+he, as he paced the room with rapid steps. "Who's that? Come in," cried
+he, as a knock came to the door. "Oh, Balfour! is it you?"
+
+"Yes; what the deuce is going on upstairs? Lady Trafford appears to have
+gone mad."
+
+"Indeed! how unpleasant!"
+
+"Very unpleasant for your wife, I take it. She has been saying all sorts
+of unmannerly things to her this last hour,--things that, if she were
+n't out of her reason, she ought to be thrown out of the window for."
+
+"And why didn't you do so?"
+
+"It was a liberty I couldn't think of taking in another man's house."
+
+"Lord love you, I'd have thought nothing of it! I'm the best-natured
+fellow breathing. What was it she said?"
+
+"I don't know how I can repeat them."
+
+"Oh, I see, they reflect on me. My dear young friend, when you live to
+my age you will learn that anything can be said to anybody, provided it
+only be done by 'the third party.' Whatever the law rejects as evidence,
+assumes in social life the value of friendly admonition. Go on, and tell
+me who it is is in love with my wife."
+
+Cool as Mr. Cholmondely Balfour was, the tone of this demand staggered
+him.
+
+"Art thou the man, Balfour?" said Sewell at last, staring at him with a
+mock frown.
+
+"No, by Jove! I never presumed that far."
+
+"It's the sick fellow, then, is the culprit?"
+
+"So his mother opines. She is an awful woman! I was sitting with your
+wife in the small drawing-room when she burst into the room and cried
+out, 'Mrs. Sewell, is your name Lucy? for, if so, my son has been
+rambling on about you this last hour in a wonderful way: he has told me
+about fifty times that he wants to see you before he dies; and now that
+the doctor says he is out of danger he never ceases talking of dying.
+I suppose you have no objection to the interview; at least they tell me
+you were constantly in his room before my arrival."
+
+"How did my wife take this?--what did she say?" asked Sewell, with an
+easy smile as he spoke.
+
+"She said something about agitation or anxiety serving to excuse conduct
+which otherwise would be unpardonable; and she asked me to send her maid
+to her,--as I think, to get me away."
+
+"Of course you rang the bell and sat down again."
+
+"No; she gave me a look that said, I don't want you here, and I went;
+but the storm broke out again as I closed the door, and I heard Lady
+Trafford's voice raised to a scream as I came downstairs."
+
+"It all shows what I have said over and over again," said Sewell,
+slowly, "that whenever a man has a grudge or a grievance against a
+woman, he ought always to get another woman to torture her. I 'll lay
+you fifty pounds Lady Traf-ford cut deeper into my wife's flesh by
+her two or three impertinences than if I had stormed myself into an
+apoplexy."
+
+"And don't you mean to turn her out of the house?"
+
+"Turn whom out?"
+
+"Lady Trafford, of course."
+
+"It's not so easily done, I suspect. I'll take to the long-boat myself
+one of these days, and leave her in command of the ship."
+
+"I tell you she's a dangerous, a very dangerous woman; she has
+been ransacking her son's desk, and has come upon all sorts of ugly
+memoranda,--sums lost at play, and reminders to meet bills, and
+such-like."
+
+"Yes; he was very unlucky of late," said Sewell, coldly.
+
+"And there was something like a will, too; at least there was a packet
+of trinkets tied up in a paper, which purported to be a will, but only
+bore the name Lucy."
+
+"How delicate! there's something touching in that, Balfour; isn't
+there?" said Sewell, with a grin. "How wonderfully you seem to have got
+up the case! You know the whole story. How did you manage it?"
+
+"My fellow Paxley had it from Lady Trafford's maid. She told him that
+her mistress was determined to show all her son's papers to the Chief
+Baron, and blow you sky high."
+
+"That's awkward, certainly," said Sewell, in deep thought. "It would be
+a devil of a conflagration if two such combustibles came together. I 'd
+rather she 'd fight it out with my mother."
+
+"Have you sent in your papers to the Horse Guards?"
+
+"Yes; it's all finished. I am gazetted out, or I shall be on Tuesday."
+
+"I'm sorry for it. Not that it signifies much as to this registrarship.
+We never intended to relinquish our right to it, we mean to throw the
+case into Chancery, and we have one issue already to submit to trial at
+bar."
+
+"Who are _we_ that are going to do all this?"
+
+"The Crown," said Balfour, haughtily.
+
+"_Ego et rex meus_; that's the style, is it? Come now, Balfy, if you 're
+for a bet, I 'll back my horse, the Chief Baron, against the field. Give
+me sporting odds, for he 's aged, and must run in bandages besides."
+
+"That woman's coming here at this moment was most unlucky."
+
+"Of course it was; it would n't be _my_ lot if it were anything else.
+I say," cried he, starting up, and approaching the window, "what's up
+now?"
+
+"She's going at last, I really believe."
+
+The sound of many and heavy footsteps was now heard descending the
+stairs slowly, and immediately after two men issued from the door,
+carrying young Trafford on a chair; his arms hung listlessly at his
+side, and his head was supported by his servant.
+
+"I wonder whose doing is this? Has the doctor given his concurrence to
+it? How are they to get him into the coach, and what are they to do with
+him when he is there?" Such was the running commentary Balfour kept
+up all the time they were engaged in depositing the sick man in the
+carriage. Again a long pause of inaction ensued, and at last a tap came
+to the door of the room, and a servant inquired for Mr. Balfour.
+
+"There!" cried Sewell, "it's _your_ turn now. I only hope she 'll insist
+on your accompanying her to town."
+
+Balfour hurried out, and was seen soon afterwards escorting Lady
+Trafford to the carriage. Whether it was that she was not yet decided
+as to her departure, or that she had so many injunctions to give before
+going, the eventful moment was long delayed. She twice tried the seat in
+the carriage, once with cushions and then without. She next made Balfour
+try whether it might not be possible to have a sort of inclined plane to
+lie upon. At length she seemed overcome with her exertions, sent for
+a chair, and had a glass of water given her, to which her maid added
+certain drops from a phial.
+
+"You will tell Colonel Sewell all I have said, Mr. Balfour," said she,
+aloud, as she prepared to enter the carriage. "It would have been more
+agreeable to me had he given me the opportunity of saying it to himself,
+but his peculiar notions on the duties of a host have prevented this. As
+to Mrs. Sewell, I hope and believe I have sufficiently explained myself.
+She at least knows my sentiments as to what goes on in this house. Of
+course, sir, it is very agreeable to _you_. Men of pleasure are not
+persons to be overburdened with scruples,--least of all such scruples as
+interfere with self-indulgence. This sort of life is therefore charming;
+I leave you to all its delights, sir, and do not even warn you against
+its dangers. I will not promise the same discretion, however, when I go
+hence. I owe it to all mothers who have sons, Mr. Balfour,--I owe it to
+every family in which there is a name to be transmitted, and a fortune
+to be handed down, to declare what I have witnessed under this roof. No,
+Lionel,--no, my dear boy; nothing shall prevent my speaking out." This
+was addressed to her son, who by a deep sigh seemed to protest against
+the sentiments he was not able to oppose. "It may suit Mr. Balfour's
+habits, or his tastes, to remain here,--with these I have nothing to do.
+The Duke of Bayswater might possibly think his heir could keep better
+company,--with that I have no concern; though when the matter comes to
+be discussed before me,--as it one day will, I have no doubt,--I shall
+hold myself free to state my opinion. Good-bye, sir; you will, perhaps,
+do me the favor to call at the Bilton; I shall remain till Saturday
+there; I have resolved not to leave Ireland till I see the Viceroy; and
+also have a meeting with this Judge, I forget his name, Lam--Lena--what
+is it? He is the Chief something, and easily found."
+
+A few very energetic words, uttered so low as to be inaudible to all but
+Balfour himself, closed this address.
+
+"On my word of honor,--on my sacred word of honor,--Mr. Balfour," said
+she, aloud as she placed one foot on the step, "Caroline saw it,--saw
+it with her own eyes. Don't forget all I have said; don't drop that
+envelope; be sure you come to see me." And she was gone.
+
+"Give me five minutes to recover myself," said Balfour, as he entered Se
+well's room, and threw himself on a sofa; "such a 'breather' as that I
+have not had for many a day."
+
+"I heard a good deal of it," said Sewell, coolly. "She screams,
+particularly when she means to be confidential; and all that about my
+wife must have reached the gardener in the shrubbery. Where is she off
+to?"
+
+"To Dublin. She means to see his Excellency and the Chief Baron; she
+says she can't leave Ireland till she has unmasked all your wickedness."
+
+"She had better take a house on a lease then; did you tell her so?"
+
+"I did nothing but listen,--I never interposed a word. Indeed, she won't
+let one speak."
+
+"I 'd give ten pounds to see her with the Chief Baron. It would be such
+a 'close thing.' All his neat sparring would go for nothing against her;
+for though she hits wide, she can stand a deal of punishment without
+feeling it."
+
+"She 'll do you mischief there."
+
+"She might," said he, more thoughtfully. "I think I 'll set my mother at
+her; not that she 'll have a chance, but just for the fun of the thing.
+What 's the letter in your hand?"
+
+"Oh, a commission she gave me. I was to distribute this amongst your
+household;" and he drew forth a banknote. "Twenty pounds! you have no
+objection to it, have you?"
+
+"I know nothing about it; of course you never hinted such a thing to
+me;" and with this he arose and left the room.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A STORMY MOMENT
+
+Within a week after the first letter came a second from Cagliari. It was
+but half a dozen lines from Tom himself.
+
+"They are sending me off to a place called Maddalena, dearest Lucy, for
+change of air The priest has given me his house, and I am to be Robinson
+Crusoe there, with an old hag for Friday,--how I wish for you! Sir Brook
+can only come over to me occasionally. Look out for three rocks--they
+call them islands--off the N. E. of Sardinia; one of them is mine.--Ever
+your own,
+
+"Tom L."
+
+Lucy hastened down with this letter in her hand to her grandfather's
+room, but met Mr. Haire on the stairs, who whispered in her ear, "Don't
+go in just yet, my dear; he is out of sorts this morning; Lady Lendrick
+has been here, and a number of unpleasant letters have arrived, and it
+is better not to disturb him further."
+
+"Will you take this note," said she, "and give it to him at any fitting
+moment? I want to know what I shall reply,--I mean, I 'd like to hear if
+grandpapa has any kind message to send the poor fellow."
+
+"Leave it with me. I 'll take charge of it, and come up to tell you when
+you can see the Judge." Thus saying, he passed on, and entered the room
+where the Chief Baron was sitting. The curtains were closely drawn, and
+in one of the windows the shutters were closed,--so sensitive to light
+was the old man in his periods of excitement. He lay back in a deep
+chair, his eyes closed, his face slightly flushed, breathing heavily,
+and the fingers of one hand twitching slightly at moments; the other was
+held by Beattie, as he counted the pulse. "Dip that handkerchief in the
+cold lotion, and lay it over his forehead," whispered Beattie to Haire.
+
+"Speak out, sir; that muttering jars on my nerves, and irritates me,"
+said the Judge, in a slow firm tone.
+
+"Come," said Beattie, cheerfully, "you are better now; the weakness has
+passed off."
+
+"There is no weakness in the case, sir," said the old man, sitting bolt
+upright in the chair, as he grasped and supported himself by the arms.
+"It is the ignoble feature of your art to be materialist. You can see
+nothing in humanity but a nervous cord and a circulation."
+
+"The doctor's ministry goes no further," said Beattie, gently.
+
+"Your art is then but left-handed, sir. Where 's Haire?"
+
+"Here, at your side," replied Haire.
+
+"I must finish my story, Haire. Where was it that I left off? Yes; to
+be sure,--I remember now. This boy of Sewell's--Reginald Victor
+Sewell--was, with my permission, to take the name of Lendrick, and be
+called Reginald Victor Sewell Lendrick."
+
+"And become the head of your house?"
+
+"The head of my house, and my heir. She did not say so, but she could
+not mean anything short of it."
+
+"What has your son done to deserve this?" asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+"My son's rights, sir, extend but to the modest fortune I inherited from
+my father. Whatever other property I possess has been acquired by my own
+ability and labor, and is mine to dispose of."
+
+"I suppose there are other rights as well as those of the statute-book?"
+
+"Listen to this, Beattie," cried the old Judge, with a sparkle of the
+eye,--"listen to this dialectician, who discourses to me on the import
+of a word. It is not generous I must say, to come down with all the
+vigor of his bright, unburdened faculties upon a poor, weak, and
+suffering object like myself. You might have waited, Haire, till I had
+at least the semblance of power to resist you."
+
+"What answer did you give her?" asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+"I said,--what it is always safe to say,--'_Le roi s'avisera_.' Eh,
+Beattie? this is the grand principle of your own craft. Medicine is very
+little else than 'the wisdom of waiting.' I told her," continued he, "I
+would think of it,--that I would see the child. 'He is here,' said she,
+rising and leaving the room, and in a few moments returned, leading a
+little boy by the hand,--a very noble-looking child, I will say, with
+a lofty head and a bold brow. He met me as might a prince, and gave
+his hand as though it were an honor he bestowed. What a conscious
+power there is in youth! Ay, sirs, that is the real source of all the
+much-boasted vigor and high-heartedness. Beattie will tell us some story
+of arterial action or nervous expansion; but the mystery lies deeper.
+The conscious force of a future development imparts a vigor that all the
+triumphs of after life pale before."
+
+"'_Fiat justitia, ruat coelum_,'" said Haire,--"I'd not provide for
+people out of my own family."
+
+"It is a very neat though literal translation, sir, and, like all that
+comes from you, pointed and forcible."
+
+"I'd rather be fair and honest than either," said Haire, bluntly.
+
+"I appeal to you, Beattie, and I ask if I have deserved this;" and the
+old Judge spoke with an air of such apparent sincerity as actually to
+impose upon the doctor. "The sarcasms of this man push my regard for him
+to the last intrenchment."
+
+"Haire never meant it; he never intended to reflect upon you," said
+Beattie, in a low tone.
+
+"He knows well enough that I did not," said Haire, half sulky; for he
+thought the Chief was pushing his raillery too far.
+
+"I 'm satisfied," said the Judge, with a sigh. "I suppose he can't help
+it. There are fencers who never believe they have touched you till they
+see the blood. Be it so; and now to go back. She went away and left the
+child with me, promising to take him up after paying a visit she had to
+make in the neighborhood. I was not sorry to have the little fellow's
+company. He was most agreeable, and, unlike Haire, he never made me his
+butt. Well, I have done; I will say no more on that head. I was actually
+sorry when she came to fetch him, and I believe I said so. What does
+that grunt mean, Haire?"
+
+"I did not speak."
+
+"No, sir; but you uttered what implied an ironical assent,--a _nisi
+prius_ trick,--like the leer I have seen you bestow upon the jury-box.
+How hard it is for the cunning man to divest himself of the subtlety of
+his calling!"
+
+"I want to hear how it all ended," muttered Haire.
+
+"You shall hear, sir, if you will vouchsafe me a little patience. When
+men are in the full vigor of their faculties, they should be tolerant
+to those footsore and weary travellers who, like myself, halt behind and
+delay the march. But bear in mind, Haire, I was not always thus. There
+was a time when I walked in the van. Ay, sir, and bore myself bravely
+too. I was talking with that child when they announced Mr. Balfour, the
+private secretary, a man most distasteful to me; but I told them to show
+him in, curious, indeed, to hear what new form of compromise they were
+about to propose to me. He had come with a secret and confidential
+message from the Viceroy, and really seemed distressed at having to
+speak before a child of six years old, so mysterious and reserved was
+he. He made a very long story of it,--full an hour; but the substance
+was this: The Crown had been advised to dispute my right of appointment
+to the registrarship, and to make a case for a jury; but--mark the
+'but'--in consideration for my high name and great services, and in
+deference to what I might be supposed to feel from an open collision
+with the Government, they were still willing for an accommodation, and
+would consent to ratify any appointment I should make, other than that
+of the gentleman I had already named,--Colonel Sewell.
+
+"Self-control is not exactly the quality for which my friends give me
+most credit. Haire, there, will tell you I am a man of ungovernable
+temper, and who never even tried to curb his passion; but I would
+hope there is some injustice in this award. I became a perfect dove
+in gentleness, as I asked Balfour for the reasons which compelled his
+Excellency to make my stepson's exclusion from office a condition. 'I am
+not at liberty to state them,' was the cool reply. 'They are personal,
+and, of course, delicate?' asked I, in a tone of submission, and he gave
+a half assent in silence. I concurred,--that is, I yielded the point. I
+went even further. I hinted, vaguely of course, at the courteous
+reserve by which his Excellency was willing to spare me such pain as an
+unpleasant disclosure--if there were such--might occasion me. I added,
+that old men are not good subjects for shocks; and I will say, sirs,
+that he looked at me as I spoke with a compassionate pity which won all
+my gratitude! Ay, Beattie, and though my veins swelled at the temples,
+and I felt a strange rushing sound in my ears, I had no fit, and in a
+moment or two was as calm as I am this instant.
+
+"'Let me be clear upon this point,' said I to him. 'I am to nominate to
+the office any one except Sewell, and you will confirm such nomination?'
+'Precisely,' replied he. 'Such act on my part in no way to prejudice
+whatever claim I lay to the appointment in perpetuity, or jeopardize
+any rights I now assert?' 'Certainly not,' said he. 'Write it,' said I,
+pushing towards him a pen and paper; and so overjoyed was he with his
+victorious negotiation that he wrote word for word as I dictated. When
+I came to the name Sewell, I added, 'To whose nomination his Excellency
+demurs, on grounds of character and conduct sufficient in his
+Excellency's estimation to warrant such exclusion; but which, out of
+deference to the Chief Baron's feelings, are not set forth in this
+negotiation.' 'Is this necessary?' asked he, as he finished writing. 'It
+is,' was my reply; 'put your name at foot, and the date;' and he did so.
+
+"I now read over the whole aloud; he winced at the concluding lines, and
+said, 'I had rather, with your permission, erase these last words; for
+though I know the whole story, and believe it too, there 's no occasion
+for entering upon it here.'
+
+"As he spoke, I folded the paper and placed it in my pocket. 'Now, sir,'
+said I, 'let _me_ hear the story you speak of.' 'I cannot. I told you
+before I was not at liberty to repeat it.' I insisted, and he refused.
+There was a positive altercation between us and he raised his voice in
+anger, and demanded back from me the paper which he said I had tricked
+him into writing. I will not say that he meant to use force, but he
+sprang from his chair and came towards me with such an air of menace
+that the boy, who was playing in the corner, rushed at him and struck
+him with his drumstick, saying, 'You sha'n't beat grandpapa!' I believe
+I rang the bell; yes, I rang the bell sharply. The child was crying when
+they came. I was confused and flurried. Balfour was gone."
+
+"And the paper?" asked Haire.
+
+"The paper is here, sir," said he, touching his breastpocket. "The
+country shall ring with it, or such submission shall I exact as will
+bring that Viceroy and his minions to my feet in abject contrition. Were
+you to ask me now, I know not what terms I would accept of."
+
+"I would rather you said no more at present," said Beattie. "You need
+rest and quietness."
+
+"I need reparation and satisfaction, sir; that is what I need."
+
+"Of course--of course; but you must be strong and well to enforce it,"
+said Beattie.
+
+"I told Lady Lendrick to leave the child with me. She said she would
+bring him back to-morrow. I like the boy. What does my pulse say,
+Beattie?"
+
+"It says that all this talking and agitation are injurious to you,--that
+you must be left alone."
+
+The old man sighed faintly, but did not speak.
+
+"Haire and I will take a turn in the garden, and be within call if you
+want us," said Beattie.
+
+"Wait a moment,--what was it I had to say? You are too abrupt, Beattie;
+you snap the cords of thought by such rough handling, and we old men
+lose our dexterous knack of catching the loose ends, as we once did.
+There, there--leave me now; the skein is all tangled in hopeless
+confusion." He waved his hand in farewell, and they left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LADY'S LETTER
+
+"Lucy asked me to show him this note from her brother," said Haire, as
+he strolled with Beattie down the lawn. "It was no time to do so. Look
+over it and say what you advise."
+
+"The boy wants a nurse, not a doctor," said Beattie. "A little care and
+generous diet would soon bring him round; but they are a strange race,
+these Lendricks. They have all the stern qualities that brave danger,
+and they are terribly sensitive to some small wound to their self-love.
+Let that young fellow, for instance, only begin to feel that he is
+forgotten or an outcast, and he 'll droop at once. A few kind words, and
+a voice he loved, _now_, will do more than all my art could replace a
+little later."
+
+"You mean that we ought to have him back here?" asked Haire, bluntly.
+
+"I mean that he ought to be where he can be carefully and kindly
+treated."
+
+"I 'll tell the Chief you think so. I 'll say that you dropped the
+remark to myself, of course,--never meaning to dictate anything to
+_him_."
+
+Beattie shook his head in sign of doubt.
+
+"I know him well, better perhaps than any one, and I know there's no
+more generous man breathing; but he must not be coerced,--he must not be
+even influenced, where the question be one for a decision. As he said to
+me one day, 'I want the evidence, sir, I don't want your speech to it.'"
+
+"There 's the evidence, then," said Beattie,--"that note with its
+wavering letters, weak and uncertain as the fingers that traced
+them,--show him that. Say, if you like, that _I_ read it and thought
+the lad's case critical. If, after that, he wishes to talk to me on the
+subject, I 'm ready to state my opinion. If the boy be like his father,
+a few tender words and a little show of interest for him will be worth
+all the tonics that ever were brewed."
+
+"It's the grandfather's nature too; but the world has never known
+it,--probably never will know it," said Haire.
+
+"In that I agree with you," said Beattie, dryly.
+
+"He regards it as a sort of weakness when people discover any act of
+generosity or any trait of kindliness about him; and do you know," added
+he, confidentially, "I have often thought that what the world
+regarded as irritability and sharpness was nothing more nor less than
+shyness,--just shyness."
+
+"I certainly never suspected that he was the victim of that quality."
+
+"No, I imagine not. A man must know him as I do to-understand it. I
+remember one day, long, long ago, I went so far as to throw out a half
+hint that I thought he labored under this defect; he only smiled and
+said, 'You suspect me of diffidence. I am diffident,--no man more so,
+sir; but it is of the good or great qualities in other men.' Was n't
+that a strange reply? I never very clearly understood it,--do you?"
+
+"I suspect I do; but here comes a message to us."
+
+Haire spoke a word with the servant, and then, turning: to Beattie,
+said: "He wants to see me. I 'll just step in, and be back in a moment."
+
+Beattie promised not to leave till he returned, and strolled along
+by the side of a little brook which meandered tastefully through the
+greensward. He had fallen into a revery,--a curious inquiry within
+himself whether it were a boon or an evil for a man to have acquired
+that sort of influence over another mind which makes his every act and
+word seem praiseworthy and excellent. "I wonder is the Chief the better
+or the worse for this indiscriminating attachment? Does it suggest
+a standard to attain to, or does it merely minister to self-love and
+conceit? Which is it? which is it?" cried he, aloud, as he stood and
+gazed on the rippling rivulet beside him.
+
+"Shall I tell you?" said a low, sweet voice; and Lucy Lendrick slipped
+her arm within his as she spoke,--"shall I tell you, doctor?"
+
+"Do, by all means."
+
+"A little of both, I opine. Mind," said she, laughing, "I have not the
+vaguest notion of what you were balancing in your mind, but somehow
+I suspect unmixed good or evil is very rare, and I take my stand on a
+compromise. Am I right?"
+
+"I scarcely know, but I can't submit the case to you. I have an
+old-fashioned prejudice against letting young people judge their
+seniors. Let us talk of something else. What shall it be?"
+
+"I want to talk to you of Tom."
+
+"I have just been speaking to Haire about him. We must get him back
+here, Lucy,--we really must."
+
+"Do you mean here, in this house, doctor?"
+
+"Here, in this house. Come, don't shake your head, Lucy. I see the
+necessity for it on grounds you know nothing of. Lady Lendrick is
+surrounding your grandfather with her family, and I want Tom back here
+just that the Chief should see what a thorough Lendrick he is. If your
+grandfather only knew the stuff that's in him, he 'd be prouder of him
+than of all his own successes."
+
+"No, no, no,--a thousand times no, doctor! It would never do,--believe
+me, it would never do. There are things which a girl may submit to in
+quiet obedience, which in a man would require subserviency. The Sewells,
+too, are to be here on Saturday, and who is to say what that may bring
+forth?"
+
+"She wrote to you," said the doctor, with a peculiar significance in his
+voice.
+
+"Yes, a strange sort of note too; I almost wish I could show it to
+you,--I 'd so like to hear what you 'd say of the spirit of the writer."
+
+"She told me she would write," said he again, with a more marked meaning
+in his manner.
+
+"You shall see it," said she, resolutely; "here it is;" and she drew
+forth the letter and handed it to him. For an instant she seemed as
+if about to speak, but suddenly, as if changing her mind, she merely
+murmured, "Read it, and tell me what you think of it." The note ran
+thus:--
+
+"My dearest Lucy,--We are to meet to-morrow, and I hope and trust to
+meet like sisters who love each other. Let me make one brief explanation
+before that moment arrives. I cannot tell what rumors may have reached
+you of all that has happened here. I know nothing of what people say,
+nor have I the faintest idea how our life may have been represented. If
+you knew me longer and better, you would know that I neither make this
+ignorance matter of complaint nor regret. I have lived about long enough
+to take the world at its just value, and not to make its judgments of
+such importance as can impair my self-esteem and my comfort. It would,
+however, have been agreeable to me to have known what you may have heard
+of me--of us--as it is not impossible I might have felt the necessity to
+add something,--to correct something,--perhaps to deny something. I am
+now in the dark, and pray forgive me if I stumble rudely against you,
+where I only meant to salute you courteously.
+
+"You at least know the great disaster which befell here. Dr. Beattie
+has told you the story,--what more he may have said I cannot guess. If
+I were to wait for our meeting, I should not have to ask you. I should
+read it in your face, and hear it in every accent of your voice; but I
+write these few lines that you may know me at once in all frankness
+and openness, and know that if _you_ be innocent of _my_ secret, _I_ at
+least have _yours_ in my keeping. Yes, Lucy, I know all; and when I say
+all, I mean far more than you yourself know.
+
+"If I were treacherous, I would not make this avowal to you. I should be
+satisfied with the advantage I possessed, and employ it to my
+benefit. Perhaps with any other woman than yourself I should play this
+part,--with you I neither can nor will. I will declare to you frankly
+and at once, you have lost the game and I have won it. That I say this
+thus briefly, is because in amplifying I should seem to be attempting to
+explain what there is no explaining. That I say it in no triumph, my own
+conscious inferiority to you is the best guarantee. I never would have
+dreamed of a rivalry had I been a girl. It is because I cannot claim the
+prize I have won it. It is because my victory is my misery I have gained
+it. I think I know your nature well enough to know that you will bear me
+no ill-will. I even go so far as to believe I shall have your compassion
+and your sympathy. I need them more, far more, than you know of. I could
+tell you that had matters fallen out differently it would not have
+been to _your_ advantage, for there were obstacles--family
+obstacles--perfectly insurmountable. This is no pretence: on my honor I
+pledge to the truth of what I say. So long as I believed they might be
+overcome, I was in _your_ interest, Lucy. You will not believe me, will
+you, if I swear it? Will you if I declare it on my knees before you?
+
+"If I have not waited till we met to say these things, it is that we may
+meet with open hearts, in sorrow, but in sincerity. When I have told
+you everything, you will see that I have not been to blame. There may
+be much to grieve over, but there is nothing to reprehend--anywhere.
+And now, how is our future to be? It is for you to decide. I have not
+wronged you, and yet I am asking for forgiveness. Can you give me your
+love, and what I need as much, your pity? Can you forget your smaller
+affliction for the sake of my heavier one, for it is heavier?
+
+"I plead guilty to one only treachery; and this I stooped to, to avoid
+the shame and disgrace of an open scandal. I told his mother that,
+though Lucy was my name, it was yours also; and that you were the Lucy
+of all his feverish wanderings. Your woman's heart will pardon me this
+one perfidy.
+
+"She is a very dangerous woman in one sense. She has a certain position
+in the world, from which she could and would open a fire of slander on
+any one. She desires to injure me. She has already threatened, and she
+is capable of more than threatening. She says she will see Sir William.
+This she may not be able to do; but she can write to him. You know
+better than I do what might ensue from two such tempers meeting; for
+myself I cannot think of it.
+
+"I have written you a long letter, dear Lucy, when I only meant to have
+written five or six lines. I have not courage to read it over; were I
+to do so, I am sure I would never send it. Perhaps you will not thank
+me for my candor. Perhaps you will laugh at all my scrupulous
+honesty. Perhaps you will--no, that you never will--I mean, employ my
+trustfulness against myself.
+
+"Who knows if I have not given to this incident an importance which you
+will only smile at? There are people so rich that they never are aware
+if they be robbed. Are you one of these, Lucy? and, if so, will you
+forgive the thief who signs herself your ever-loving sister,
+
+"Lucy Skwell.
+
+"I have told Dr. Beattie I would write to you; he looked as if he knew
+that I might, or that I ought,--which is it? Doctors see a great deal
+more than they ought to see. The great security against them is, that
+they acquire an indifference to the sight of suffering, which, in
+rendering them callous, destroys curiosity, and then all ills that can
+neither be bled nor blistered they treat as trifles, and end by ignoring
+altogether. Were it otherwise,--that is, had they any touch of humanity
+in their nature,--they would be charming confidants, for they know
+everything and can go everywhere. If Beattie should be one of your pets,
+I ask pardon for this impertinence; but don't forget it altogether, as,
+one day or other, you will be certain to acknowledge its truth.
+
+"We arrive by the 4.40 train on Saturday afternoon. If I see you at the
+door when we drive up, I shall take it as a sign I am forgiven."
+
+Beattie folded the letter slowly, and handed it to Lucy without a
+word. "Tell me," said he, after they had walked on several seconds in
+silence,--"tell me, do you mean to-be at the door as she arrives?"
+
+"I think not," said she, in a very low voice.
+
+"She has a humble estimate of doctors; but there is one touch of nature
+she must not deny them,--they are very sensitive about contagion. Now,
+Lucy, I wish with all my heart that you were not to be the intimate
+associate of this woman."
+
+"So do I, doctor; but how is it to be helped?"
+
+He walked along silent and in deep thought.
+
+"Shall I tell you, doctor, how it can be managed, but only by your help
+and assistance? I must leave this."
+
+"Leave the Priory! but for where?"
+
+"I shall go and nurse Tom: he needs _me_, doctor, and I believe I need
+_him_; that is, I yearn after that old companionship which made all my
+life till I came here--Come now, don't oppose this plan; it is only by
+your hearty aid it can ever be carried out. When you have told grandpapa
+that the thought is a good one, the battle will be more than half won.
+You see yourself I ought not to be here."
+
+"Certainly not here with Mrs. Sewell; but there comes the grave
+difficulty of how you are to be lodged and cared for in that wild
+country where your brother lives?"
+
+"My dear doctor, I have never known pampering till I came here. Our life
+at home--and was it not happy!--was of the very simplest. To go back
+again to the same humble ways will be like a renewal of the happy past;
+and then Tom and I suit each other so well,--our very caprices are
+kindred. Do say you like this notion, and tell me you will forward it."
+
+"The very journey is an immense difficulty."
+
+"Not a bit, doctor; I have planned it all. From this to Marseilles
+is easy enough,--only forty hours; once there, I either go direct to
+Cagliari, or catch the Sardinian steamer at Genoa--"
+
+"You talk of these places as if they were all old acquaintances; but, my
+dear child, only fancy yourself alone in a foreign city. I don't speak
+of the difficulties of a new language."
+
+"You might, though, my dear doctor. My French and Italian, which carry
+me on pleasantly enough with Racine and Ariosto, will expose me sadly
+with my 'commissionnaire.'"
+
+"But quite alone you cannot go,--that's certain."
+
+"I must not take a maid, that's as certain; Tom would only send us both
+back again. If you insist, and if grandpapa insists upon it, I will take
+old Nicholas. He thinks it a great hardship that he has not been carried
+away over seas to see the great world; and all his whims and tempers
+that tortured us as children will only amuse us now; his very tyranny
+will be good fun."
+
+"I declare frankly," said the doctor, laughing, "I do not see how the
+difficulties of foreign travel are to be lessened by the presence of old
+Nicholas; but are you serious in all this?"
+
+"Perfectly serious, and fully determined on it, if I be permitted."
+
+"When would you go?"
+
+"At once! I mean as soon as possible. The Sewells are to be here on
+Saturday. I would leave on Friday evening by the mail-train from London.
+I would telegraph to Tom to say on what day he might expect me."
+
+"To-day is Tuesday; is it possible you could be ready?"
+
+"I would start to-night, doctor, if you only obtain my leave."
+
+"It is all a matter of the merest chance how your grandfather will take
+it," said Beattie, musing.
+
+"But _you_ approve? tell me you approve of it."
+
+"There is certainly much in the project that I like. I cannot bear to
+think of your living here with the Sewells; my experience of them
+is very brief, but it has taught me to know there could be no worse
+companionship for you; but as these are things that cannot be spoken
+of to the Chief, let us see by what arguments we should approach him.
+I will go at once. Haire is with him, and he is sure to see that what I
+suggest has come from you. If it should be the difficulty of the journey
+your grandfather objects to, Lucy, I will go as far as Marseilles with
+you myself, and see you safely embarked before I leave you."
+
+She took his hand and kissed it twice, but was not able to utter a word.
+
+"There, now, my dear child, don't agitate yourself; you need all your
+calm and all your courage. Loiter about here till I come to you, and it
+shall not be long."
+
+"What a true, kind friend you are!" said she, as her eyes grew dim with
+tears. "I am more anxious about this than I like to own, perhaps.
+Will you, if you bring me good tidings, make me a signal with your
+handkerchief?"
+
+He promised this, and left her.
+
+Lucy sat down under a large elm-tree, resolving to wait there patiently
+for his return; but her fevered anxiety was such that she could not rest
+in one place, and was forced to rise and walk rapidly up and down.
+She imagined to herself the interview, and fancied she heard her
+grandfather's stern question,--whether she were not satisfied with her
+home? What could he do more for her comfort or happiness than he had
+done? Oh, if he were to accuse her of ingratitude, how should she bear
+it? Whatever irritability he might display towards others, to herself he
+had always been kind and thoughtful and courteous.
+
+She really loved him, and liked his companionship, and she felt that if
+in leaving him she should consign him to solitude and loneliness, she
+could scarcely bring herself to go; but he was now to be surrounded with
+others, and if they were not altogether suited to him by taste or habit,
+they would, even for their own sakes, try to conform to his ways and
+likings.
+
+Once more she bethought her of the discussion, and how it was faring.
+Had her grandfather suffered Beattie to state the case fully, and say
+all that he might in its favor? or had he, as was sometimes his wont,
+stopped him short with a peremptory command to desist? And then what
+part had Haire taken? Haire, for whose intelligence the old Judge
+entertained the lowest possible estimate, had somehow an immense
+influence over him, just as instincts are seen too strong for reason.
+Some traces of boyish intercourse yet survived and swayed his mind with
+his consciousness of its power.
+
+"How long it seems!" murmured she. "Does this delay augur ill for
+success, or is it that they are talking over the details of the plan?
+Oh, if I could be sure of that! My poor dear Tom, how I long to be
+near you--to care for you--and watch you!" and as she said this, a cold
+sickness came over her, and she muttered aloud: "What perfidy it all is!
+As if I was not thinking of myself, and my own sorrows, while I try to
+believe I am but thinking of my brother." And now her tears streamed
+fast down her cheeks, and her heart felt as if it would burst. "It must
+be an hour since he left this," said she, looking towards the house,
+where all was still and motionless. "It is not possible that they are
+yet deliberating. Grandpapa is never long in coming to a decision.
+Surely all has been determined on before this, and why does he not come
+and relieve me from my miserable uncertainty?"
+
+At last the hall door opened, and Haire appeared; he beckoned to her
+with his hand to come, and then re-entered the house. Lucy knew not what
+to think of this, and she could scarcely drag her steps along as she
+tried to hasten back. As she entered the hall, Haire met her, and,
+taking her hand cordially, said, "It is all right; only be calm, and
+don't agitate him. Come in now;" and with this she found herself in
+the room where the old Judge was sitting, his eyes closed and his whole
+attitude betokening sleep. Beattie sat at his side, and held one hand in
+his own. Lucy knelt down and pressed her lips to the other hand, which
+hung over the arm of the chair. Gently drawing away the hand, the old
+man laid it on her head, and in a low faint voice said: "I must not look
+at you, Lucy, or I shall recall my pledge. You are going away!"
+
+The young girl turned her tearful eyes towards him, and held her lips
+firmly closed to repress a sob, while her cheeks trembled with emotion.
+
+"Beattie tells me you are right," continued he, with a sigh; and then,
+with a sort of aroused energy, he added; "But old age, amongst its other
+infirmities, fancies that right should yield to years. '_Ce sont les
+droits de la decrepitude_,' as La Rochefoucauld calls them. I will
+not insist upon my 'royalties,' Lucy, this time. You shall go to your
+brother." His hand trembled as it lay on her head, and then fell heavily
+to his side. Lucy clasped it eagerly, and pressed it to her cheek, and
+all was silent for some seconds in the room.
+
+At last the old man spoke, and it was now in a clear distinct voice,
+though weak. "Beattie will tell you everything, Lucy; he has all my
+instructions. Let him now have yours. To-morrow we shall, both of us, be
+calmer, and can talk over all together. To-morrow will be Thursday?"
+
+"Wednesday, grandpapa."
+
+"Wednesday,--all the better, my dear child; another day gained. I say,
+Beattie," cried he in a louder tone, "I cannot have fallen into the
+pitiable condition the newspapers describe, or I could never have gained
+this victory over my selfishness. Come, sir, be frank enough to own that
+where a man combats himself, he asserts his identity. Haire will go out
+and give that as his own," muttered he; and as he smiled, he lay back,
+his breathing grew heavier and longer, and he sank into a quiet sleep.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. SOME CONJUGAL COURTESIES
+
+"You have not told me what she wrote to you," said Sewell to his wife,
+as he smoked his cigar at one side of the fire while she read a novel
+at the other. It was to be their last evening at the Nest; on the morrow
+they were to leave it for the Priory. "Were there any secrets in it, or
+were there allusions that I ought not to see?"
+
+"Not that I remember," said she, carelessly.
+
+"What about our coming? Does the old man seem to wish for it?--how does
+she herself take it?"
+
+"She says nothing on the subject, beyond her regret at not being there
+to meet us."
+
+"And why can't she?--where will she be?"
+
+"At sea, probably, by that time. She goes off to Sardinia to her
+brother."
+
+"What! do you mean to that fellow who is living with Fossbrooke? Why did
+n't you tell me this before?"
+
+"I don't think I remembered it; or, if I did, it's possible I thought it
+could not have much interest for you."
+
+"Indeed, Madam! do you imagine that the only things I care for are the
+movements of _your_ admirers? Where 's this letter? I 'd like to see
+it."
+
+"I tore it up. She begged me to do so when I had read it."
+
+"How honorable! I declare you ladies conduct your intercourse with an
+integrity that would be positively charming to think of if only your
+male friends were admitted to any share of the fair dealing. Tell me so
+much as you can remember of this letter."
+
+"She spoke of her brother having had a fever, and being now better, but
+so weak and reduced as to require great care and attention, and obliged
+to remove for change of air to a small island off the coast."
+
+"And Fossbrooke,--does she mention _him?_"
+
+"Only that he is not with her brother, except occasionally: his business
+detains him near Cagliari."
+
+"I hope it may continue to detain him there! Has this-young woman gone
+off all alone on this journey?"
+
+"She has taken no maid. She said it might prove inconvenient to her
+brother; and has only an old family servant she calls Nicholas with
+her."
+
+"So, then, we have the house to ourselves so far. She 'll not be in a
+hurry back, I take it. Anything would be better than the life she led
+with her grandfather."
+
+"She seems sorry to part with him, and recurs three or four times to his
+kindness and affection."
+
+"His kindness and affection! His vanity and self-love are nearer the
+mark. I thought I had seen something of conceit and affectation, but
+that old fellow leaves everything in that line miles behind. He is,
+without exception, the greatest bore and the most insupportable bully I
+ever encountered."
+
+"Lucy liked him."
+
+"She did not,--she could not. It suits you women to say these things,
+because you cultivate hypocrisy so carefully that you carry on the game
+with each other! How could any one, let her be ever so abject, like that
+incessant homage this old man exacted,--to be obliged to be alive to his
+vapid jokes and his dreary stories, to his twaddling reminiscences of
+college success or House of Commons--Irish House too--triumphs? Do
+you think if I wasn't a beggar I 'd go and submit myself to such a
+discipline?"
+
+To this she made no reply, and for a while there was a silence in the
+room. At last he said, "_You'll_ have to take up that line of character
+that _she_ acted. _You'll_ have to 'swing the incense' now. I'll be shot
+if _I_ do."
+
+She gave no answer, and he went on: "You 'll have to train the brats
+too to salute him, and kiss his hand and call him--what are they to call
+him--grandpapa? Yes, they must say grandpapa. How I wish I had not sent
+in my papers! If I had only imagined I could have planted you all here,
+I could have gone back to my regiment and served out my time."
+
+"It might have been better," said she, in a low voice.
+
+"Of course it would have been better; each of us would have been
+free, and there are few people, be it said, take more out of their
+freedom,--eh, Madam?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders carelessly, but a slight, a very slight,
+flush colored her cheek.
+
+"By the way, now we're on that subject, have you answered Lady
+Trafford's letter?"
+
+"Yes," said she; and now her cheek grew crimson.
+
+"And what answer did you send?"
+
+"I sent back everything."
+
+"What do you mean?--your rings and trinkets, the bracelet with the
+hair--mine, of course,--it could be no one's but mine."
+
+"All, everything," said she, with a gulp.
+
+"I must read the old woman's letter over again. You have n't burnt
+_that_, I hope?"
+
+"No; it's upstairs in my writing-desk."
+
+"I declare," said he, rising and standing with his back to the fire,
+"you women, and especially fine ladies, say things to each other that
+men never would dare to utter to other men. That old dame, for
+instance, charged you with what we male creatures have no equivalent
+for,--cheating at play would be mild in comparison."
+
+"I don't think that _you_ escaped scot-free," said she, with an intense
+bitterness, though her tone was studiously subdued and low.
+
+"No," said he, with a jeering laugh. "I figured as the accessory or
+accomplice, or whatever the law calls it. I was what polite French
+ladies call _le mari complaisant_,--a part I am so perfect in, Madam,
+that I almost think I ought to play it for my Benefit.' What do you say?"
+
+"Oh, sir, it is not for me to pass an opinion on your abilities."
+
+"I have less bashfulness," said he, fiercely. "I 'll venture to say a
+word on _yours_. I 've told you scores of times--I told you in India,
+I told you at the Cape, I told you when we were quarantined at Trieste,
+and I tell you now--that you never really captivated any man much under
+seventy. When they are tottering on to the grave, bald, blear-eyed, and
+deaf, you are perfectly irresistible; and I wish--really I say it in all
+good faith--you would limit the sphere of your fascinations to such very
+frail humanities. Trafford only became spooney after that smash on the
+skull; as he grew better, he threw off his delusions,--did n't he?"
+
+"So he told me," said she, with perfect calm.
+
+"By Jove! that was a great fluke of mine," cried he, aloud. "That was a
+hazard I never so much as tried. So that this fellow had made some sort
+of a declaration to you?"
+
+"I never said so."
+
+"What was it then that you _did_ say, Madam? Let us understand each
+other clearly."
+
+"Oh, I am sure we need no explanations for that," said she, rising, and
+moving towards the door.
+
+"I want to hear about this before you go," said he, standing between her
+and the door.
+
+"You are not going to pretend jealousy, are you?" said she, with an easy
+laugh.
+
+"I should think not," said he, insolently. "That is about one of the
+last cares will ever rob me of my rest at night. I 'd like to know,
+however, what pretext I have to send a ball through your young friend."
+
+"Oh, as to that peril, it will not rob _me_ of a night's rest," said
+she, with such a look of scorn and contempt as seemed actually to sicken
+him, for he staggered back as though about to fall and she passed out
+ere he could recover himself.
+
+"It is to be no quarter between us then! Well, be it so," cried he, as
+he sank heavily into a seat. "She's playing a bold game when she goes
+thus far." He leaned his head on the table, and sat thus so long that he
+appeared to have fallen asleep; indeed, the servant who came to tell
+him that tea was served, feared to disturb him, and retired without
+speaking. Far from sleeping, however, his head was racked with a
+maddening pain, and he kept on muttering to himself, "This is the second
+time--the second time she has taunted me with cowardice. Let her beware!
+Is there no one will warn her against what she is doing?"
+
+"Missis says, please, sir, won't you have a cup of tea?" said the maid
+timidly at the door.
+
+"No; I'll not take any."
+
+"Missis says too, sir, that Miss Blanche is tuk poorly, and has a
+shiverin' over her, and a bad headache, and she hopes you 'll send in
+for Dr. Tobin."
+
+"Is she in bed?"
+
+"Yes, sir, please."
+
+"I'll go up and see her;" and with this he arose and passed up the
+little stair that led to the nursery. In one bed a little dark-haired
+girl of about three years old lay fast asleep; in the adjoining bed a
+bright blue-eyed child of two years or less lay wide awake, her cheeks
+crimson, and the expression of her features anxious and excited. Her
+mother was bathing her temples with cold water as Sewell entered, and
+was talking in a voice of kind and gentle meaning to the child.
+
+"That stupid woman of yours said it was Blanche," said Sewell,
+pettishly, as he gazed at the little girl.
+
+"I told her it was Cary; she has been heavy all day, and eaten nothing.
+No, pet,--no, darling," said she, stooping over the sick child, "pa is
+not angry; he is only sorry that little Cary is ill."
+
+"I suppose you'd better have Tobin to see her," said he, coldly. "I 'll
+tell George to take the tax-cart and fetch him out. It's well it was n't
+Blanche," muttered he, as he sauntered out of the room. His wife's eyes
+followed him as he went, and never did a human face exhibit a stronger
+show of repressed passion than hers, as, with closely compressed lips
+and staring eyes, she watched him as he passed out.
+
+"The fool frightened me,--she said it was Blanche," were the words he
+continued to mutter as he went down the stairs.
+
+Tobin arrived in due time, and pronounced the case not serious,--a mere
+feverish attack that only required a day or two of care and treatment.
+
+"Have you seen Colonel Sewell?" said Mrs. Sewell, as she accompanied the
+doctor downstairs.
+
+"Yes; I told him just what I 've said to you."
+
+"And what reply did he make?"
+
+"He said, 'All right! I have business in town, and must start to-morrow.
+My wife and the chicks can follow by the end of the week.'"
+
+"It's so like him!--so like him!" said she, as though the pent-up
+passion could no longer be restrained.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL. MR. BALFOUR'S OFFICE
+
+On arriving in Dublin, Sewell repaired at once to Balfour's office in
+the Castle yard; he wanted to "hear the news," and it was here that
+every one went who wanted to "hear the news." There are in all cities,
+but more especially in cities of the second order, certain haunts where
+the men about town repair; where, like the changing-houses of bankers,
+people exchange their "credits,"--take up their own notes, and give up
+those of their neighbors.
+
+Sewell arrived before the usual time when people dropped in, and found
+Balfour alone and at breakfast. The Under-Secretary's manner was dry, so
+much Sewell saw as he entered; he met him as though he had seen him the
+day before, and this, when men have not seen each other for some time,
+has a certain significance. Nor did he ask when he had come up, nor
+in any way recognize that his appearance was matter of surprise or
+pleasure.
+
+"Well, what's going on here?" said Sewell, as he flung himself into an
+easy-chair, and turned towards the fire. "Anything new?"
+
+"Nothing particular. I don't suppose you care for the Cattle Show or the
+Royal Irish Academy?"
+
+"Not much,--at least, I can postpone my inquiries about them. How about
+my place here? Are you going to give me trouble about it?"
+
+"Your place,--your place?" muttered the other, once or twice; and then,
+standing up with his back to the fire, and his skirts over his arms,
+he went on. "Do you want to hear the truth about this affair, or are we
+only to go on sparring with the gloves, eh?"
+
+"The truth, of course, if such a novel proceeding should not be too much
+of a shock to you."
+
+"No, I suspect not. I do a little of everything every day just to keep
+my hand in."
+
+"Well, go on now, out with this truth."
+
+"Well, the truth is,--I am now speaking confidentially,--if I were you I
+'d not press my claim to that appointment,--do you perceive?"
+
+"I do not; but perhaps I may when you have explained yourself a little
+more fully."
+
+"And," continued he, in the same tone, and as though no interruption had
+occurred, "that's the opinion of Halkett, and Doyle, and Jocelyn, and
+the rest."
+
+"Confidentially, of course," said Sewell, with a sneer so slight as not
+to be detected.
+
+"I may say confidentially, because it was at dinner we talked it
+over, and we were only the household,--no guests but Byam Herries and
+Barrington."
+
+"And you all agreed?"
+
+"Yes, there was not a dissentient voice but Jocelyn's, who said, if he
+were in your place, he'd insist on having all the papers and letters
+given up to him. His view is this: 'What security have I that the same
+charges are not to be renewed again and again? I submit now, but am I
+always to submit? Are my Indian'--(what shall I call them? I forget what
+he called them; I believe it was escapades)--'my Indian escapades to
+declare me unfit to hold anything under the Crown?' He said a good deal
+in that strain, but we did not see it. It was hard, to be sure, but we
+did not see it. As Halkett said, 'Sewell has had his innings already in
+India. If, with a pretty wife and a neat turn for billiards, he did not
+lay by enough to make his declining years comfortable, I must say that
+he was not provident.' Doyle, however, remarked that after that affair
+with Loftus up at Agra--wasn't it Agra?"--Sewell nodded--"it was n't
+so easy for you to get along as many might think, and that you were
+a devilish clever fellow to do what you had done. Doyle likes you,
+I think." Sewell nodded again, and, after a slight pause, Balfour
+proceeded: "And it was Doyle, too, said, 'Why not try for something in
+the colonies? There are lots of places a man can go and nothing be ever
+heard of him. If I was Sewell, I 'd say, Make me a barrackmaster in the
+Sandwich Islands, or a consul in the Caraccas.'
+
+"They all concurred in one thing, that you never did so weak a thing in
+your whole life as to have any dealings with Trafford. It was his mother
+went to the Duke--ay, into the private office at the Horse Guards--and
+got Clifford's appointment cancelled, just for a miserable five hundred
+pounds Jack won off the elder brother,--that fellow who died last year
+at Madeira. She's the most dangerous woman in Europe. She does not care
+what she says, nor to whom she says it. She 'd go up to the Queen at a
+drawing-room and make a complaint as soon as she 'd speak to you or
+me. As it is, she told their Excellencies here all that went on in your
+house, and I suppose scores of things that did not go on either, and
+said, 'And are you going to permit this man to be'--she did not remember
+what, but she said--'a high official under the Crown? and are you going
+to receive his wife amongst your intimates?' What a woman she is! To
+hear her you 'd think her 'dear child,' instead of being a strapping
+fellow of six feet two, was a brat in knickerbockers, with a hat and
+feather. The fellow himself must be a consummate muff to be bullied
+by her; but then the estate is not entailed, they say, and there's a
+younger brother may come into it all. His chances look well just now,
+for Lionel has got a relapse, and the doctors think very ill of him."
+
+"I had not heard that," said Sewell, calmly.
+
+"Oh, he was getting on most favorably,--was able to sit up at the
+window, and move a little about the room,--when, one morning Lady
+Trafford had driven over to the Lodge to luncheon, he stepped downstairs
+in his dressing-gown as he was, got into a cab, and drove off into the
+country. All the cabman could tell was that he ordered him to take the
+road to Rathfarnham, and said, 'I 'll tell you by and by where to;' and
+at last he said, 'Where does Sir William Lendrick live?' and though the
+man knew the Priory, he had taken a wrong turn and got down to ask
+the road. Just at this moment a carriage drove by with two grays and a
+postilion--A young lady was inside with an elderly gentleman, and the
+moment Trafford saw her he cried out, 'There she is,--that is she!' As
+hard as they could they hastened after; but they smashed a trace, and
+lost several minutes in repairing it, and as many more in finding out
+which way the carriage had taken. It was to Kingstown, and, as the
+cabman suspected, to catch the packet for Holyhead; for just as they
+drove up, the steamer edged away from the pier, and the carriage with
+the grays drove off with only the old man, Trafford fell back in a
+faint, and appeared to have continued so, for when they took him out of
+the cab at Bilton's he was insensible.
+
+"Beattie says he'll come through it, but Maclin thinks he 'll never be
+the same man again; he 'll have a hardening or a softening--which is
+it?--of the brain, and that he'll be fit for nothing."
+
+"Except a place in the viceregal household, perhaps. I don't imagine you
+want gold-medallists for your gentlemen-in-waiting?"
+
+"We have some monstrous clever fellows, let me tell you. Halkett made
+a famous examination at Sandhurst, and Jocelyn wrote that article in
+'Bell's Life,' 'The Badger Drawn at Last.'"
+
+"To come back to where we were, how are you to square matters with the
+Chief Baron? Are you going to law with him about this appointment, or
+are you about to say that _I_ am the objection? Let me have a definite
+answer to this question."
+
+"We have not fully decided; we think of doing either, and we sometimes
+incline to do both. At all events, we are not to have it; that's the
+only thing certain."
+
+"Have you got a cigar? No, not these things; I mean something that can
+be smoked."
+
+"Try this," said Balfour, offering his case.
+
+"They 're the same as those on the chimney. I must say, Balfour, the
+traditional hospitalities of the Castle are suffering in their present
+hands. When I dined here the last time I was in town, they gave me two
+glasses of bad sherry and one glass of a corked Gladstone; and I came
+to dinner that day after reading in Barrington all about the glorious
+festivities of the Irish Court in the olden days of Richmond and
+Bedford."
+
+"Lady Trafford insists that your names--your wife's as well as your
+own--are to be scratched from the dinner-list. Sir Hugh has three votes
+in the House, and she bullies us to some purpose, I can tell you. I
+can't think how you could have made this woman so much your enemy. It is
+not dislike,--it is hatred."
+
+"Bad luck, I suppose," said Sewell, carelessly.
+
+"She seems so inveterate too; she'll not give you up, very probably."
+
+"Women generally don't weary in this sort of pursuit."
+
+"Couldn't you come to some kind of terms? Couldn't you contrive to let
+her know that you have no designs on her boy? You've won money of him,
+have n't you?"
+
+"I have some bills of his,--not for a very large amount, though; you
+shall have them a bargain."
+
+"I seldom speculate," was the dry rejoinder.
+
+"You are right; nor is this the case to tempt you."
+
+"They 'll be paid, I take it?"
+
+"Paid! I'll swear they shall!" said Sewell, fiercely. "I'll stand a deal
+of humbug about dinner invitations, and cold salutations, and such-like;
+but none, sir, not one, about what touches a material interest."
+
+"It's not worth being angry about," said Balfour, who was really glad to
+see the other's imperturbability give way.
+
+"I'm not angry. I was only a little impatient, as a man may be when he
+hears a fellow utter a truism as a measure of encouragement. Tell your
+friends--I suppose I must call them your friends--that they make an
+egregious mistake when they push a man like me to the wall. It is
+intelligible enough in a woman to do it; women don't measure their
+malignity, nor their means of gratifying it; but _men_ ought to know
+better."
+
+"I incline to think I'll tell my 'friends' nothing whatever on the
+subject."
+
+"That's as you please; but remember this,--if the day should come that
+I need any of these, details you have given me this morning, I'll quote
+them, and you too, as their author; and if I bring an old house about
+your ears, look out sharp for a falling chimney-pot! You gave me a piece
+of advice awhile ago," continued he, as he put on his hat before the
+glass, and arranged his necktie. "Let me repay you with two, which you
+will find useful in their several ways: Don't show your hand when
+you play with as shrewd men as myself; and, Don't offer a friend such
+execrable tobacco as that on the chimney;" and with this he nodded and
+strolled out, humming an air as he crossed the Castle yard and entered
+the city.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI. THE PRIORY IN ITS DESERTION
+
+The old Judge was very sad after Lucy's departure from the Priory. While
+she lived there they had not seen much of each other, it is true.
+They met at meal-times, and now and then Sir William would send up
+the housekeeper to announce a visit from him; but there is a sense of
+companionship in the consciousness that under the same roof with you
+dwells one upon whose affection you can draw, whose sympathy will be
+with you in your hour of need; and this the old man now felt to be
+waiting; and he wandered restlessly about the house and the garden,
+tenacious to see that nothing she liked or loved was threatened with any
+change, and repeating to all that she must find everything as she left
+it when she came back again.
+
+Sewell had been recalled to the country by the illness of his child, and
+they were not expected at the Priory for at least a week or two longer.
+Haire had gone on circuit, and even Beattie the Judge only saw hurriedly
+and at long intervals. With Lady Lendrick he had just had a most angry
+correspondence, ending in one of those estrangements which, had they
+been nations instead of individuals, would have been marked by the
+recall of their several envoys, but which they were satisfied to
+signalize by an order at the Priory gate-lodge not to admit her
+Ladyship's carriage, and an equally determined command at Merrion Square
+for the porter to take in no letters that came from the Chief Baron.
+
+Lest the world should connect this breach with any interest in my story,
+I may as well declare at once the incident had no possible bearing upon
+it. It was a little episode entirely self-contained, and consisted
+in Lady Lendrick having taken advantage of Sir William's illness and
+confinement to house to send for and use his carriage-horses,--a liberty
+which he resented by a most furious letter, to which the rejoinder
+begot another infinitely more sarcastic,--the correspondence ending by
+a printed notice which her Ladyship received in an envelope, that the
+Chief Baron's horses would be sold on the ensuing Saturday at Dycer's to
+the highest bidder, his Lordship having no further use for them.
+
+Let me own that the old Judge was sincerely sorry when this incident
+was concluded. So long as the contest lasted, while he was penning his
+epistle or waiting for the reply, his excitement rallied and sustained
+him. He used to sit after the despatch of one of his cutting letters
+calculating with himself the terror and consternation it produced, just
+as the captain of a frigate might have waited with eager expectancy
+that the smoke might drift away and show him the shattered spars or the
+yawning bulwarks of his enemy. But when his last missive was returned
+unopened, and the messenger reported that the doctor's carriage was at
+her Ladyship's door as he came away, the Judge collapsed at once, and
+all the dreariness of his deserted condition closed in upon him.
+
+Till Sewell returned to-town, Sir William resolved not to proceed
+farther with respect to the registrarship. His plan, long determined
+upon, was to induct him into the office, administer the oaths, and
+leave him to the discharge of the duties. The scandal of displacing an
+official would, he deemed, be too great a hazard for any government
+to risk. At all events, if such a conflict came, it would be a great
+battle, and with the nation for spectators.
+
+"The country shall ring with it," was the phrase he kept repeating
+over and over as he strolled through his neglected garden or his leafy
+shrubberies; but as he plodded along, alone and in silence, the dreary
+conviction would sometimes shoot across his mind that he had run his
+race, and that the world had wellnigh forgotten him. "In a few days
+more," sighed he out, "it will be over, and I shall be chronicled as
+the last of them." And for a moment it would rally him to recall
+the glorious names with which he claimed companionship, and compare
+them--with what disparagement!--with the celebrities of the time.
+
+It was strange how bright the lamp of intellect would shine out as the
+wick was fast sinking in the socket. His memory would revive some stormy
+scene in the House, some violent altercation at the Bar, and all the
+fiery eloquence of passion would recur to him, stirring his heart and
+warming his blood, till he half forgot his years, and stood forth, with
+head erect and swelling chest, strong with a sense of power and a whole
+soul full of ambition.
+
+"Beattie would not let me take my Circuit," would he say. "I wish he
+saw me to-day. Decaying powers! I would tell them that the Coliseum
+is grander in its ruin than all their stuccoed plastering in its trim
+propriety. Had he suffered me to go, the grand jury would have heard
+a charge such as men's ears have not listened to since Avonmore!
+Avon-more! what am I saying?--Yelverton had not half my law, nor a tenth
+part of my eloquence."
+
+In his self-exaltation he began to investigate whether he was greater as
+an advocate or as prosecutor. How difficult to decide! After all, it
+was in the balance of the powers thus displayed that he was great as a
+judge. He recalled the opinions of the press when he was raised to the
+bench, and triumphantly asked aloud, had he not justified every hope and
+contradicted every fear that was entertained of him? "Has my learning
+made me intolerant, or my brilliancy led me into impatience? Has the
+sense of superiority that I possess rendered me less conciliatory? Has
+my 'impetuous genius'--how fond they were of that phrase!--carried me
+away into boundless indiscretions? and have I, as one critic said, so
+concentrated the attention of the jury on myself that the evidence went
+for nothing and the charge was everything?"
+
+It was strange how these bursts of inordinate vanity and self-esteem
+appeared to rally and invigorate the old man, redressing, as it were,
+the balance of the world's injustice--such he felt it--towards him. They
+were like a miser's hoard, to be counted and re-counted in secret with
+that abiding assurance that he had wealth and riches, however others
+might deem him poor.
+
+It was out of these promptings of self-love that he drew the energetic
+powers that sustained him, broken and failing and old as he was.
+
+Carried on by his excited thoughts, he strayed away to a little mound,
+on which, under a large weeping-ash, a small bench was placed, from
+which a wide view extended over the surrounding country. There was a
+tradition of a summer-house on the spot in Curran's day, and it was
+referred to more than once in the diaries and letters of his friends;
+and the old Chief loved the place, as sacred to great memories.
+
+He had just toiled up the ascent, and gained the top, when a servant
+came to present him with a card and a letter, saying that the gentleman
+who gave them was then at the house. The card bore the name, "Captain
+Trafford,--th Regiment." The letter was of a few lines, and ran thus:--
+
+"My dear Sir William,--I had promised my friend and late patient Captain
+Trafford to take him over to the Priory this morning and present him to
+you. A sudden call has, however, frustrated the arrangement; and as
+his time is very brief, I have given him this as a credential to your
+acquaintance, and I hope you will permit him to stroll through the
+garden and the shrubberies, which he will accept as a great favor.
+I especially beg that you will lay no burden on your own strength to
+become his entertainer: he will be amply gratified by a sight of
+your belongings, of which he desires to carry the memory beyond
+seas.--Believe me very sincerely yours,
+
+"J. Beattie."
+
+"If the gentleman who brought this will do me the favor to come up here,
+say I shall be happy to see him."
+
+As the servant went on his message, the old man lay back on his seat,
+and, closing his eyes, muttered some few dropping words, implying his
+satisfaction at this act of reverential homage. "A young soldier too;
+it speaks well for the service when the men of action revere the men of
+thought. I am glad it is a good day with me; he shall carry away other
+memories than of woods and streams. Ah! here he comes."
+
+Slowly, and somewhat feebly, Trafford ascended the hill, and with a most
+respectful greeting approached the Judge.
+
+"I thank you for your courtesy in coming here, sir," said the Chief;
+"and when we have rested a little, I will be your _Cicerone_ back to the
+house." The conversation flowed on pleasantly between them, Sir William
+asking where Traflford had served, and what length of time he had been
+in Ireland,--his inquiries evidently indicating that he had not heard of
+him before, or, if he had, had forgotten him.
+
+"And now you are going to Malta?"
+
+"Yes, my Lord; we sail on the 12th."
+
+"Well, sir, Valetta has no view to rival that. See what a noble sweep
+the bay takes here, and mark how well the bold headlands define the
+limits! Look at that stretch of yellow beach, like a golden fillet round
+the sea; and then mark the rich woods waving in leafy luxuriance to
+the shore! Those massive shadows are to landscape what times of silent
+thought are to our moral natures. Do you like your service, sir?"
+
+"Yes, my Lord; there is much in it that I like. I would like it all if
+it were in 'activity.'"
+
+"I have much of the soldier in myself, and the qualities by which I
+have gained any distinction I have won are such as make generals,--quick
+decision, rapid intelligence, prompt action."
+
+Traflford bowed to this pretentions summary, but did not speak.
+
+The old Judge went on to describe what he called the military
+mind, reviewing in turn the generals of note from Hannibal down to
+Marlborough. "What have they left us by way of legacy, sir? The game,
+lost or won, teaches us as much! Is not a letter of Cicero, is not an
+ode of Horace worth it all? And as for battle-fields, it is the painter,
+not the warrior, has made them celebrated. Wouvermans has done more for
+war than Turenne!"
+
+"But, my Lord, there must be a large number of men like myself who make
+very tolerable soldiers, but who would turn out sorry poets or poor
+advocates."
+
+"Give me your arm now, and I will take you round by the fish-pond and
+show you where the 'Monks of the Screw' held their first meeting. You
+have heard of that convivial club?" Trafiford bowed; and the Judge went
+on to tell of the strange doings of those grave and thoughtful men,
+who-deemed no absurdity too great in their hours of distraction and
+levity. When they reached the house, the old man was so fatigued that
+he had to sit down in the porch to rest. "You have seen all, sir; all I
+have of memorable. You say you 'd like to see the garden, but there is
+not a memory connected with it. See it, however, by all means; saunter
+about till I have rallied a little, and then join me at my early dinner.
+I 'll send to tell you when it is ready. I am sorry it will be such
+a lonely meal; but she who could have thrown sunshine over it is
+gone--gone!" And he held his hands over his face, and said no more.
+Trafiford moved silently away, and went in search of the garden. He
+soon found the little wicket, and ere many minutes was deep in the leafy
+solitude of the neglected spot. At last he came upon the small gate
+in the laurel hedge, passing through which he entered the little
+flower-garden. Yes, yes; there was no doubting it! This was hers! Here
+were the flowers she tended; here the heavy bells from which she emptied
+the rain-drops; here the tendrils her own hands had trained! Oh, force
+of love, that makes the very ground holy, and gives to every leaf and
+bud an abiding value! He threw himself upon the sward and kissed it.
+There was a little seat under a large ilex--how often had she sat there
+thinking!--could it be thinking over the days beside the Shannon,--that
+delicious night they came back from Holy Island, the happiest of all his
+life? Oh, if he could but believe that she loved him! if he could only
+know that she did not think of him with anger and resentment!--for
+she might! Who could tell what might have been said of his life at the
+Sewells'? He had made a confidante of one who assumed to misunderstand
+him, and who overwhelmed him with a confession of her own misery, and
+declared she loved him; and this while he lay in a burning fever, his
+head racked with pain, and his mind on the verge of wandering. Was
+there-ever a harder fate than his? That he had forfeited the affection
+of his family, that he had wrecked his worldly fortunes, seemed little
+in his eyes to the danger of being thought ill of by her he loved.
+
+His father's last letter to him had been a command to leave the army and
+return home, to live there as became the expectant head of the house.
+"I will have your word of honor to abandon this ignoble passion"--so he
+called his love; "and in addition, your solemn pledge never to marry an
+Irishwoman." These words were, he well knew, supplied by his mother. It
+had been the incessant burden of her harangues to him during the tedious
+days of his recovery; and even when, on the morning of this very day,
+she had been suddenly recalled to England by a severe attack of illness
+of her husband, her last act before departure was to write a brief note
+to Lionel, declaring that if he should not follow her within a week, she
+would no longer conceive herself bound to maintain his interests against
+those of his more obedient and more affectionate brother.
+
+"Won't that help my recovery, doctor?" said he, showing the kind and
+generous epistle to Beattie. "Are not these the sort of tonic stimulants
+your art envies?"
+
+Beattie shook his head in silence, and after a long pause said, "Well,
+what was your reply to this?"
+
+"Can you doubt it? Don't you know it; or don't you know _me?_"
+
+"Perhaps I guess."
+
+"No, but you are certain of it, doctor. The regiment is ordered to
+Malta, and sails on the 12th. I go with them! Holt is a grand old place,
+and the estate is a fine one; I wish my brother every luck with both.
+Will you do me a favor,--a great favor?"
+
+"If in my power, you may be certain I will. What is it?"
+
+"Take me over to the Priory; I want to see it. You can find some pretext
+to present me to the Chief Baron, and obtain his leave to wander through
+the grounds."
+
+"I perceive--I apprehend," said Beattie, slyly. "There is no difficulty
+in this. The old Judge cherishes the belief that the spot is little
+short of sacred; he only wonders why men do not come as pilgrims to
+visit it. There is a tradition of Addison having lived there, while
+secretary in Ireland; Curran certainly did; and a greater than either
+now illustrates the locality."
+
+It was thus that Trafford came to be there; with what veneration for the
+haunts of genius let the reader picture to himself!
+
+"His Lordship is waiting dinner, sir," said a servant, abruptly, as he
+sat there--thinking, thinking; and he arose and followed the man to the
+house.
+
+The Chief Baron had spent the interval since they parted in preparing
+for the evening's display. To have for his guest a youth so imbued
+with reverence for Irish genius and ability, was no common event. Young
+Englishmen and soldiers, too, were not usually of this stuff; and the
+occasion to make a favorable impression was not to be lost.
+
+When he entered the dinner-room, Trafford was struck by seeing that
+the table was laid for three, though they were but two; and that on the
+napkin opposite to where he sat a small bouquet of fresh flowers was
+placed.
+
+"My granddaughter's place, sir," said the old Judge, as he caught his
+eye. "It is reserved for her return. May it be soon!"
+
+How gentle the old man's voice sounded as he said this, and how
+kindly his eyes beamed! Trafford thought there was something actually
+attractive in his features, and wondered he had not remarked it before.
+
+Perhaps on that day when the old Judge well knew how agreeable he was,
+what stores of wit and pleasantry he was pouring forth, his convictions
+assured him that his guest was charmed. It was a very pardonable
+delusion,--he talked with great brilliancy and vigor. He possessed the
+gift--which would really seem to be the especial gift of Irishmen of
+that day--to be a perfect relater. To a story he imparted that slight
+dash of dramatic situation and dialogue that made it lifelike, and yet
+never retarded the interest nor prolonged the catastrophe. Acute as was
+his wit, his taste was fully as conspicuous, never betraying him for an
+instant, so long as his personal vanity could be kept out of view.
+
+Trafford's eager and animated attention showed with what pleasure he
+listened; and the Chief, like all men who love to talk and know they
+talk well, talked all the better for the success vouchsafed to him. He
+even arrived at that stage of triumph in which he felt that his guest
+was no common man, and wondered if England really turned out many young
+fellows of this stamp,--so well read, so just, so sensible, so keenly
+alive to nice distinction, and so unerring in matters of taste.
+
+"You were schooled at Rugby, sir, you told me; and Rugby has reason
+to be proud if she can turn out such young men. I am only sorry Oxford
+should not have put the fine edge on so keen an intellect."
+
+Trafford blushed at a compliment he felt to be so unmerited, but the old
+man saw nothing of his confusion,--he was once again amongst the great
+scenes and actors of his early memories.
+
+"I hope you will spare me another day before you leave Ireland. Do you
+think you could give me Saturday?" said the Chief, as his guest arose to
+take leave.
+
+"I am afraid not, my Lord; we shall be on the march by that day."
+
+"Old men have no claim to use the future tense, or I should ask you to
+come and see me when you come back again."
+
+"Indeed will I. I cannot thank you enough for having asked me."
+
+"Why are there not more young men of that stamp?" said the old Judge,
+as he looked after him as he went. "Why are they not more generally
+cultivated and endowed as he is? It is long since I have found one more
+congenial to me in every way. I must tell Beattie I like his friend. I
+regret not to see more of him."
+
+It was in this strain Sir William ruminated and reflected; pretty much
+like many of us, who never think our critics so just or so appreciative
+as when they applaud ourselves.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII. NECESSITIES OP STATE
+
+It is, as regards views of life and the world, a somewhat narrowing
+process to live amongst sympathizers; and it may be assumed as an axiom,
+that no people so much minister to a man's littleness as those who pity
+him.
+
+Now, when Lady Lendrick separated from Sir William, she carried away
+with her a large following of sympathizers. The Chief Baron was well
+known; his haughty overbearing temper at the bar, his assuming attitude
+in public life, his turn for sarcasm and epigram, had all contributed to
+raise up for him a crowd of enemies; and these, if not individually well
+disposed to Lady Lendrick, could at least look compassionately on one
+whose conjugal fate had been so unfortunate. All _her_ shortcomings were
+lost sight of in presence of _his_ enormities, for the Chief Baron's
+temper was an Aaron's rod of irascibility, which devoured every other;
+and when the verdict was once passed, that "no woman could live with
+him," very few women offered a word in his defence.
+
+It is just possible that if it had not been for this weight in the
+opposite scale, Lady Lendrick herself would not have stood so high. Sir
+William's faults, however, were accounted to her for righteousness,
+and she traded on a very pretty capital in consequence. Surrounded by a
+large circle of female friends, she lived in a round of those charitable
+dissipations by which some people amuse themselves; and just as dull
+children learn their English history through a game, and acquire their
+geography through a puzzle, these grown-up children take in their
+Christianity by means of deaf and dumb bazaars, balls for blind
+institutions, and private theatricals for an orphan asylum. This
+devotion, made easy to the lightest disposition, is not, perhaps, a
+bad theory,--at least, it does not come amiss to an age which likes to
+attack its gravest ills in a playful spirit, to treat consumption with
+cough lozenges, and even moderate the excesses of insanity by soft
+music. There is another good feature, too, in the practice: it furnishes
+occupation and employment to a large floating class which,' for the
+interest and comfort of society, it is far better should be engaged in
+some pursuit, than left free to the indulgence of censorious tastes and
+critical habits. Lady Lendrick lived a sort of monarch amongst
+these. She was the patroness of this, the secretary of that, and
+the corresponding member of some other society. Never was an active
+intelligence more actively occupied; but she liked it all, for she liked
+power, and, strange as it may seem, there is in a small way an
+exercise of power even in these petty administrations. Loud, bustling,
+overbearing, and meddlesome, she went everywhere, and did everything.
+The only sustaining hope of those she interfered with was that she was
+too capricious to persist in any system of annoyance, and was prone
+to forget to-day the eternal truths she had propounded for reverence
+yesterday.
+
+I am not sure that she conciliated--I am not sure that she would have
+cared for--much personal attachment; but she had what certainly she
+did like, a large following of very devoted supporters. All her little
+social triumphs--and occasionally she had such--were blazoned abroad by
+those people who loved to dwell on the courtly attentions bestowed
+upon their favorite, what distinguished person had taken her "down" to
+dinner, and the neat compliment that the Viceroy paid her on the taste
+of her "tabinet."
+
+It need scarcely be remarked that the backwater of all this admiration
+for Lady Lendrick was a swamping tide of ill-favor for her husband. It
+would have been hard to deny him ability and talent. But what had he
+made of his ability and talent? The best lawyer of the bar was not even
+Chief-Justice of the Queen's Bench. The greatest speaker and scholar of
+his day was unknown, except in the reminiscences of a few men almost
+as old as himself. Was the fault in himself, or was the disqualifying
+element of his nature the fact of being an Irishman? For a number of
+years the former theory satisfied all the phenomena of the case, and
+the restless, impatient disposition--irritable, uncertain, and almost
+irresponsible--seemed reason enough to deter the various English
+officials who came over from either seeking the counsels or following
+the suggestions of the bold Baron of the Exchequer. A change, however,
+had come, in pail; induced by certain disparaging articles of the
+English press as to the comparative ability of the two countries; and
+now it became the fashion to say that had Sir William been born on
+the sunnier side of St. George's Channel, and had his triumphs been
+displayed at Westminster instead of the Four Courts, there would have
+been no limit to the praise of his ability as a lawyer, nor any delay in
+according him the highest honors the Crown could bestow.
+
+Men shook their heads, recalled the memorable "curse" recorded by Swift,
+and said, "Of course there is no favor for an Irishman." It is not the
+place nor the time to discuss this matter here. I would only say that
+a good deal of the misconception which prevails upon it is owing to the
+fact that the qualities which win all the suffrages of one country are
+held cheaply enough in the other. Plodding unadorned ability, even of
+a high order, meets little favor in Ireland, while on the other side
+of the Channel Irish quickness is accounted as levity, and the rapid
+appreciation of a question without the detail of long labor and thought,
+is set down as the lucky hit of a lively but very idle intelligence.
+I will not let myself wander away further in this digression, but come
+back to my story. Connected with this theory of Irish depreciation, was
+the position that but for the land of his birth Sir William would have
+been elevated to the peerage.
+
+Of course it was a subject to admit of various modes of telling,
+according to the tastes, the opportunities, and the prejudices of the
+tellers. The popular version of the story, however, was this: that Sir
+William declined to press a claim that could not have been resisted,
+on account of the peculiarly retiring, unambitious character of him
+who should be his immediate successor. His very profession--adopted
+and persisted in, in despite of his father's wish--was a palpable
+renunciation of all desire for hereditary honor. As the old Judge said,
+"The _Libro d, Oro_ of nobility is not the Pharmacopoeia;" and the
+thought of a doctor in the peerage might have cost "Garter" a fit of
+apoplexy.
+
+Sir William knew this well,--no man better; but the very difficulties
+gave all the zest and all the flavor to the pursuit. He lived, too, in
+the hope that some Government official might have bethought him of this
+objection, that he might spring on him, tiger-like, and tear him in
+fragments.
+
+"Let them but tell me this," muttered he, "and I will rip up the whole
+woof, thread by thread, and trace them! The noble duke whose ancestor
+was a Dutch pedler, the illustrious marquess whose great-grandfather was
+a smuggler, will have to look to it. Before this cause be called on I
+would say to them, better to retain me for the Crown! Ay, sirs, such is
+my advice to you."
+
+While these thoughts agitated Sir William's mind, the matter of them
+was giving grave and deep preoccupation to the Viceroy. The Cabinet had
+repeatedly pressed upon him the necessity of obtaining the Chief Baron's
+retirement from the bench,--a measure the more imperative that while
+they wanted to provide for an old adherent, they were equally anxious to
+replace him in the House by an abler and readier debater; for so is it,
+when dulness stops the way, dulness must be promoted,--just as the most
+tumble-down old hackney-coach must pass on before my Lord's carriage can
+draw up.
+
+"Pemberton must go up," said the Viceroy. "He made a horrid mess of that
+explanation t' other night in the House. His law was laughed at, and
+his logic was worse; he really must go on the bench. Can't you hit upon
+something, Balfour? Can you devise nothing respecting the Chief Baron?"
+
+"He 'll take nothing but what you won't give him; I hear he insists on
+the peerage."
+
+"I'd give it, I declare,--I 'd give it to-morrow. As I told the Premier
+t' other day, Providence always takes care that these law lords have
+rarely successors. They are life peerages and no more; besides, what
+does it matter a man more or less in 'the Lords'? The peer without
+hereditary rank and fortune is like the officer who has been raised from
+the ranks,--he does not dine at mess oftener than he can help it."
+
+Balfour applauded the illustration, and resolved to use it as his own.
+
+"I say again," continued his Excellency, "I'd give it, but they won't
+agree with me; they are afraid of the English bar,--they dread what the
+benchers of Lincoln's Inn would say."
+
+"They'd only say it for a week or two," mumbled Balfour.
+
+"So I remarked: you'll have discontent, but it will be passing. Some
+newspaper letters will appear, but Themis and Aristides will soon tire,
+and if they should not, the world who reads them will tire; and probably
+the only man who will remember the event three months after will be the
+silversmith who is cresting the covered dishes of the new creation. You
+think you can't go and see him, Balfour?"
+
+"Impossible, my Lord, after what occurred between us the last time."
+
+"I don't take it in that way. I suspect he 'll not bear any malice.
+Lawyers are not thin-skinned people; they give and take such hard knocks
+that they lose that nice sense of injury other folks are endowed with. I
+think you might go."
+
+"I 'd rather not, my Lord," said he, shaking his head.
+
+"Try his wife, then."
+
+"They don't live together. I don't know if they're on speaking terms."
+
+"So much the better,--she'll know every chink of his armor, and perhaps
+tell us where he is vulnerable. Wait a moment. There has been some talk
+of a picnic on Dalkey Island. It was to be a mere household affair. What
+if you were to invite her?--making of course the explanation that it was
+a family party, that no cards had been sent out; in fact, that it was to
+be so close a thing the world was never to hear of it."
+
+"I think the bait would be irresistible, particularly when she found out
+that all her own set and dear friends had been passed over."
+
+"Charge her to secrecy,--of course she'll not keep her word."
+
+"May I say we 'll come for her? The great mystery will be so perfectly
+in keeping with one of the household carriages and your Excellency's
+liveries."
+
+"Won't that be too strong, Balfour?" said the Viceroy, laughing.
+
+"Nothing is too strong, my Lord, in this country. They take their
+blunders neat as they do their sherry, and I'm sure that this part of
+the arrangement will, in the gossip it will give rise to, be about the
+best of the whole exploit."
+
+"Take your own way, then; only make no such mistake as you made with
+the husband. No documents, Balfour,--no documents, I beg;" and with
+this warning laughingly given, but by no means so pleasantly taken, his
+Excellency went off and left him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII. MR. BALFOUR'S MISSION
+
+Lady Lendrick was dictating to her secretary, Miss Morse, the Annual
+Report of the "Benevolent Ballad-Singers' Aid Society," when her servant
+announced the arrival of Mr. Cholmondely Balfour. She stopped abruptly
+short at a pathetic bit of description,--"The aged minstrel, too old
+for erotic poetry, and yet debarred by the stern rules of a repressive
+policy from the strains of patriotic song,"--for, be it said
+parenthetically, Lady Lendrick affected "Irishry" to a large
+extent,--and, dismissing Miss Morse to an adjoining room, she desired
+the servant to introduce Mr. Balfour.
+
+Is it fancy, or am I right in supposing that English officials have a
+manner specially assumed for Ireland and the Irish,--a thing like the
+fur cloak a man wears in Russia, or the snowshoes he puts on in Lapland,
+not intended for other latitudes, but admirably adapted for the locality
+it is made for? I will not insist that this theory of mine is faultless,
+but I appeal to a candid public of my own countrmen if they have not
+in their experience seen what may support it. I do not say it is a bad
+manner,--a presuming manner,--a manner of depreciation towards these it
+is used to, or a manner indicative of indifference in him who uses it. I
+simply say that they who employ it keep it as especially for Ireland as
+they keep their macintosh capes for wet weather, and would no more think
+of displaying it in England than they would go to her Majesty's levee in
+a shooting-jacket. Mr. Balfour was not wanting in this manner. Indeed,
+the Administration of which he formed a humble part were all proficients
+in it. It was a something between a mock homage and a very jocular
+familiarity, so that when he arose after a bow, deep and reverential
+enough for the presence of majesty, he lounged over to a chair and threw
+himself down with the ease and unconcern of one perfectly at home.
+
+"And how is my Lady? and how are the fourscore and one associations for
+turnkeys' widows and dog-stealers' orphans doing? What 's the last new
+thing in benevolence? Do tell me, for I 've won five shillings at loo,
+and want to invest it."
+
+"You mean you have drawn your quarter's salary, Mr. Balfour."
+
+"No, by Jove; they don't pay us so liberally. We have the run of our
+teeth and no more."
+
+"You forget your tongue, sir; you are unjust."
+
+"Why, my Lady, you are as quick as Sir William himself; living with that
+great wit has made you positively dangerous."
+
+"I have not enjoyed over-much of the opportunity you speak of."
+
+"Yes, I know that; no fault of yours, though. The world is agreed on
+that point. I take it he's about the most impossible man to live with
+the age has yet produced. Sewell has told me such things of him!--things
+that would be incredible if I had not seen him."
+
+"I beg pardon for interrupting, but of course you have not come to
+dilate on the Chief Baron's defects of temper to his wife."
+
+"No, only incidentally,--parenthetically, as one may say,--just as one
+knocks over a hare when he's out partridge-shooting."
+
+"Never mind the hare, then, sir; keep to your partridges."
+
+"My partridges! my partridges! which are my partridges? Oh, to be sure!
+I want to talk to you about Sewell. He has told you perhaps how ill we
+have behaved to him,--grossly, shamefully ill, I call it."
+
+"He has told me that the Government object to his having this
+appointment, but he has not explained on what ground."
+
+"Neither can I. Official life has its mysteries, and, hate them as one
+may, they must be respected; he ought n't to have sold out,--it was
+rank folly to sell out. What could he have in the world better than
+a continued succession of young fellows fresh from home, and knowing
+positively nothing of horse-flesh or billiards?"
+
+"I don't understand you, sir,--that is, I hope I misunderstand you,"
+said she, haughtily.
+
+"I mean simply this, that I'd rather be a lieutenant-colonel with such
+opportunities than I 'd be Chairman of the Great Overland."
+
+"Opportunities--and for what?"
+
+"For everything,--for everything; for game off the balls, on every race
+in the kingdom, and as snug a thing every night over a devilled kidney
+as any man could wish for. Don't look shocked,--it's all on the square;
+that old hag that was here last week would have given her diamond
+ear-rings to find out something against Sewell, and she could n't."
+
+"You mean Lady Trafford?"
+
+"I do. She stayed a week here just to blacken his character, and she
+never could get beyond that story of her son and Mrs. Sewell."
+
+"What story? I never heard of it."
+
+"A lie, of course, from beginning to end; and it's hard to imagine that
+she herself believed it."
+
+"But what was it?"
+
+"Oh, a trumpery tale of young Trafford having made love to Mrs. Sewell,
+and proposed to run off with her, and Sewell having played a game at
+ecarte on it, and lost,--the whole thing being knocked up by Trafford's
+fall. But you must have heard it! The town talked of nothing else for a
+fortnight."
+
+"The town never had the insolence to talk of it to _me_."
+
+"What a stupid town! If there be anything really that can be said to be
+established in the code of society, it is that you may say anything
+to anybody about their relations. But for such a rule how could
+conversation go on?--who travels about with his friend's family-tree
+in his pocket? And as to Sewell,--I suppose I may say it,--he has not a
+truer friend in the world than myself."
+
+She bowed a very stiff acknowledgment of the speech, and he went on: "I
+'m not going to say he gets on well with his wife,--but who does? Did
+you ever hear of him who did? The fact I take to be this, that every one
+has a certain capital of good-nature and kindliness to trade on, and he
+who expends this abroad can't have so much of it for home consumption;
+that's how your insufferable husbands are such charming fellows for the
+world! Don't you agree with me?"
+
+A very chilling smile, that might mean anything, was all her reply.
+
+"I was there all the time," continued he, with unabated fluency. "I
+saw everything that went on: Sewell's policy was what our people call
+non-intervention; he saw nothing, heard nothing, believed nothing; and
+I will say there 's a great deal of dignity in that line; and when your
+servant comes to wake you in the morning, with the tidings that your
+wife has run away, you have established a right before the world to be
+distracted, injured, overwhelmed, and outraged to any extent you may
+feel disposed to appear."
+
+"Your thoughts upon morals are, I must say, very edifying, sir."
+
+"They 're always practical, so much I will say. This world is a
+composite sort of thing, with such currents of mixed motives running
+through it, if a man tries to be logical he is sure to make an ass of
+himself, and one learns at last to become as flexible in his opinions
+and as elastic as the great British constitution.
+
+"I am delighted with your liberality, sir, and charmed with your candor;
+and as you have expressed your opinion so freely upon my husband and my
+son, would it appear too great a favor if I were to ask what you would
+say of myself?"
+
+"That you are charming, Lady Lendrick,--positively charming,"
+replied he, rapturously. "That there is not a grace of manner, nor
+a captivation, of which you are not mistress; that you possess that
+attraction which excels all others in its influence; you render all who
+come within the sphere of your fascination so much your slaves that the
+cold grow enthusiastic, the distrustful become credulous, and even
+the cautious reserve of office gives way, and the well-trained private
+secretary of a Viceroy betrays himself into indiscretions that would
+half ruin an aide-de-camp."
+
+"I assure you, sir, I never so much as suspected my own powers."
+
+"True as I am here; the simple fact is, I have come to say so."
+
+"You have come to say so! What do you mean?"
+
+With this he proceeded to explain that her Excellency had deputed him
+to invite Lady Lendrick to join the picnic on the island. "It was
+so completely a home party, that, except himself and a few of the
+household, none had even heard of it. None but those really intimate
+will be there," said he; "and for once in our lives we shall be able
+to discuss our absent friends with that charming candor that gives
+conversation its salt. When we had written down all the names, it was
+her Excellency said, 'I 'd call this perfect if I could add one more to
+the list.' 'I'll swear I know whom you mean,' said his Excellency; and
+he took his pencil and wrote a line on a card. 'Am I right?' asked he.
+She nodded, and said, 'Balfour, go and ask her to come. Be sure you
+explain what the whole thing is, how it was got up, and that it must not
+be talked of.' Of course, do what one will, these things do get about.
+Servants will talk of them, and tradespeople talk of them, and we must
+expect a fair share of ill-nature and malice from that outer world which
+was not included in the civility; but it can't be helped. I believe it's
+one of the conditions of humanity, that to make one man happy you may
+always calculate on making ten others miserable."
+
+This time Lady Lendrick had something else to think of besides Mr.
+Balfour's ethics, and so she only smiled and said nothing.
+
+"I hope I 'm to bring back a favorable answer," said he, rising to take
+leave. "Won't you let me say that we 're to call for you?"
+
+"I really am much flattered. I don't know how to express my grateful
+sense of their Excellencies' recollection of me. It is for Wednesday,
+you say?"
+
+"Yes, Wednesday. We mean to leave town by two o'clock, and there will be
+a carriage here for you by that hour. Will that suit you?"
+
+"Perfectly."
+
+"I am overjoyed at my success. Good-bye till Wednesday, then." He moved
+towards the door, and then stopped. "What was it? I surely had something
+else to say. Oh, to be sure, I remember. Tell me, if you can, what are
+Sir William's views about retirement: he is not quite pleased with us
+just now, and we can't well approach him; but we really would wish to
+meet his wishes, if we could manage to come at them." All this he said
+in a sort of careless, easy way, as though it were a matter of little
+moment, or one calling for very slight exercise of skill to set right.
+
+"And do you imagine he has taken me into his confidence, Mr. Balfour?"
+asked she, with a smile.
+
+"Not formally, perhaps,--not what we call officially; but he may have
+done so in that more effective way termed 'officiously.'"
+
+"Not even that. I could probably make as good a guess about your own
+future intentions as those of the Chief Baron."
+
+"You have heard him talk of them?"
+
+"Scores of times."
+
+"And in what tone,--with what drift?"
+
+"Always as that of one very ill-used, hardly treated, undervalued, and
+the like."
+
+"And the remedy? What was the remedy?"
+
+"To make him a peer,--at least, so his friends say."
+
+"But taking that to be impossible, what next?"
+
+"He becomes 'impossible' also," said she, laughing.
+
+"Are we to imagine that a man of such intelligence as he possesses
+cannot concede something to circumstances,--cannot make allowances for
+the exigencies of 'party,'--cannot, in fact, take any other view of a
+difficulty but the one that must respond to his own will?"
+
+"Yes; I think that is exactly what you are called on to imagine. You
+are to persuade yourself to regard this earth as inhabited by the Chief
+Baron, and some other people not mentioned specifically in the census."
+
+"He is most unreasonable, then."
+
+"Of course he is; but I wouldn't have you tell him so. You see, Mr.
+Balfour, the Chief imagines all this while that he is maintaining and
+upholding the privileges of the Irish Bar. The burden of his song is,
+'There would have been no objection to my claim had I been the Chief
+Baron of the English Court.'"
+
+"Possibly," murmured Balfour; and then, lower again, "Fleas are not--"
+
+"Quite true," said she, for her quick ear caught his words,--"quite
+true. Fleas are not lobsters,--bless their souls! But, as I said before,
+I 'd not remind them of that fact. 'The Fleas' are just sore enough upon
+it already."
+
+Balfour for once felt some confusion. He saw what a slip he had made,
+and now it had damaged his whole negotiation. Nothing but boldness would
+avail now, and he resolved to be bold.
+
+"There is a thing has been done in England, and I don't see why we might
+not attempt it in the present case. A great lawyer there obtained a
+peerage for his wife--"
+
+She burst out into a fit of laughter at this, at once so hearty and so
+natural that at last he could not help joining, and laughing too.
+
+"I must say, Mr. Balfour," said she, as soon as she could speak,--"I
+must say there is ingenuity in your suggestion. The relations that
+subsist between Sir William and myself are precisely such as to
+recommend your project."
+
+"I am not so sure that they are obstacles to it. I have always heard
+that he had a poor opinion of his son, who was a common-place sort of
+man that studied medicine. It could be no part of the Chief Baron's plan
+to make such a person the head of a house. Now, he likes Sewell, and he
+dotes on that boy,--the little fellow I saw at the Priory. These are all
+elements in the scheme. Don't you think so?"
+
+"Let me ask you one question before I answer yours: Does this thought
+come from yourself alone, or has it any origin in another quarter?"
+
+"Am I to be candid?"
+
+"You are."
+
+"And are _you_ to be confidential?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"In that case," said he, drawing a long breath, as though about to
+remove a perilous weight off his mind, "I will tell you frankly, it
+comes from authority. Now, don't ask me more,--not another question. I
+have already avowed what my instructions most imperatively forbid me
+to own,--what, in fact, would be ruin to me if it were known that I
+revealed. What his Excellency--I mean, what the other person said
+was, 'Ascertain Lady Lendrick's wishes on this subject; learn, if you
+can,--but, above all, without compromising yourself,--whether she really
+cares for a step in rank; find out, if so, what aid she can or will lend
+us.' But what am I saying? Here am I entering upon the whole detail?
+What would become of me if I did not know I might rely upon you?"
+
+"It's worth thinking over," said she, after a pause.
+
+"I should think it is. It is not every day of our lives such a brilliant
+offer presents itself. All I ask, all I stipulate for, is that you make
+no confidences, ask no advice from any quarter. Think it well over in
+your own mind, but impart it to none, least of all to Sewell."
+
+"Of course not to _him_," said she, resolutely, for she knew well to
+what purposes he would apply the knowledge.
+
+"Remember that we want to have the resignation before Parliament
+meets,--bear that in mind. Time is all-important with us; the rest will
+follow in due course." With this he said "Good-bye," and was gone.
+
+"The rest will follow in due course," said she to herself, repeating his
+last words as he went. "With your good leave, Mr. Balfour, the 'rest'
+shall precede the beginning."
+
+Was n't it Bolingbroke that said constitutional government never could
+go on without lying,--audacious lying too? If the old Judge will only
+consent to go, her Ladyship's peerage will admit of a compromise. Such
+was Mr. Balfour's meditation as he stepped into his cab.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV. AFTER-DINNER THOUGHTS
+
+Her Majesty's--th had got their orders for Malta, and some surmised
+for India, though it was not yet known; but all agreed it was
+hard,--"confoundedly hard," they called it. "Had n't they had their turn
+of Inidan service?--how many years had that grim old major passed in the
+Deccan,--what weary winters had the bronzed bald captain there spent at
+Rangoon!"
+
+How they inveighed against the national niggardliness that insisted on
+making a small army do the work of a large one! How they scouted the
+popular idea that regiments were treated alike and without favoritism!
+_They_ knew better. They knew that if they had been the Nine Hundred and
+Ninth, or Three Thousand and First, there would have been no thought of
+sending them back to cholera and jungle fever. Some, with a little sly
+flattery, ascribed the order to their efficiency, and declared that they
+had done their work so well at Gonurshabad, the Government selected them
+at once when fresh troubles were threatening; and a few old grumblers,
+tired of service, sick of the Horse Guards,--not over-enamored of
+even life,--agreed that it was rank folly to join a regiment where the
+Lieutenant-Colonel was not a man of high connections; as they said, "If
+old Cave there had been a Lord George or even an Honorable, we 'd have
+had ten years more of home service."
+
+With the exception of two or three raw subalterns who had never been out
+of England, and who wanted the glory of pig-sticking and the brevet
+to tell tiger stories, there were gloom and depression everywhere. The
+financially gifted complained that as they had all or nearly all
+bought their commissions, there was no comparison between the treatment
+administered to them and to officers in any foreign army; and such as
+knew geography asked triumphantly whether a Frenchman, who could be only
+sent to Africa, or an Austrian, whose most remote banishment was the
+"Banat," was in the same position as an unfortunate Briton, who could be
+despatched to patrol the North Pole to-day, and to-morrow relieve guard
+at New Zealand? By a unanimous vote it was carried that the English
+army was the worst paid, hardest worked, and most ill-treated service in
+Europe; but the roast-beef played just at the moment, and they went in
+to dinner.
+
+As the last bars of that prandial melody were dying away, two men
+crossed the barrack-yard towards the mess-house. They were in close
+confabulation, and although evidently on their way to dinner, showed by
+their loitering pace how much more engrossed they were by the subject
+that engaged them than by any desire for the pleasures of the table.
+They were Colonel Cave and Sewell.
+
+"I can scarcely picture to my mind as great a fool as that," said
+Sewell, angrily. "Can you?"
+
+"I don't know," said Cave, slowly and doubtingly. "First of all, I never
+was heir to a large estate; and, secondly, I was never, that I remember,
+in love."
+
+"In love! in fiddlestick. Why, he has not seen the girl this year and
+half; he scarcely knows her. I doubt greatly if she cares a straw for
+him; and for a caprice--a mere caprice--to surrender his right to a fine
+fortune and a good position is absolute idiocy; but I tell you more,
+Cave, though worse--far worse." Here his voice grew harsh and grating,
+as he continued: "When I and other men like me played with Trafford, we
+betted with the man who was to inherit Holt. When I asked the fellow to
+my house, and suffered a certain intimacy--for I never liked him--it was
+because he represented twelve thousand a year in broad acres. I 'd
+stand a good deal from a man like that, that I 'd soon pull another up
+for,--eh?"
+
+The interrogative here puzzled Cave, who certainly was not a concurring
+party to the sentiment, and yet did not want to make it matter of
+discussion.
+
+"We shall be late,--we've lost our soup already," said he, moving more
+briskly forward.
+
+"I 'd no more have let that fellow take on him, as he did under my roof,
+than I 'd sufifer him to kennel his dogs in my dressing-room. You
+don't know--you can't know--how he behaved." These words were spoken in
+passionate warmth, and still there was that in the speaker's manner that
+showed a want of real earnestness; so it certainly seemed to Cave, who
+secretly determined to give no encouragement to further disclosures.
+
+"There are things," resumed Sewell, "that a man can't speak on,--at
+least, he can only speak of them when they become the talk of the town."
+
+"Come along, I want my dinner. I'm not sure I have not a guest, besides,
+who does not know any of our fellows. I only remembered him this
+instant. Is n't this Saturday?"
+
+"One thing I 'll swear,--he shall pay me every shilling he owes me, or
+he does not sail with the regiment. I 'll stand no nonsense of renewals;
+if he has to sell out for it, he shall book up. You have told him, I
+hope, he has nothing to expect from my forbearance?"
+
+"We can talk this all over another time. Come along now,--we 're very
+late."
+
+"Go on, then, and eat your dinner; leave me to my cigar--I 've no
+appetite. I 'll drop in when you have dined."
+
+"No, no; you shall come too,--your absence will only make fellows talk;
+they are talking already."
+
+"Are they? and in what way?" asked he, sternly.
+
+"Nothing seriously, of course," mumbled Cave, for he saw how he had
+fallen into an indiscretion; "but you must come, and you must be
+yourself too. It's the only way to meet flying rumors."
+
+"Come along, then," said Sewell, passing his arm within the other's; and
+they hurried forward without another word being spoken by either.
+
+It was evident that Sewell's appearance caused some surprise. There was
+a certain awkward significance in the way men looked at him and at each
+other that implied astonishment at his presence.
+
+"I didn't know you were down here," said the old Major, making an
+involuntary explanation of his look of wonderment.
+
+"Nothing very remarkable, I take it, that a man is stopping at his own
+house," said Se well, testily. "No--no fish. Get me some mutton," added
+he to the mess-waiter.
+
+"You have heard that we 've got our orders," said a captain opposite
+him.
+
+"Yes; Cave told me."
+
+"I rather like it,--that is, if it means India," said a very
+young-looking ensign.
+
+Sewell put up his eye-glass and looked at the speaker, and then, letting
+it drop, went on with his dinner without a word.
+
+"There 's no man can tell you more about Bengal than Colonel Sewell
+there," said Cave, to some one near him. "He served on the staff there,
+and knows every corner of it."
+
+"I wish I did n't, with all my heart. It's a sort of knowledge that
+costs a man pretty dearly."
+
+"I 've always been told India was a capital place," said a gay,
+frank-looking young lieutenant, "and that if a man did n't drink, or
+take to high play, he could get on admirably."
+
+"Nor entangle himself with a pretty woman," added another.
+
+"Nor raise a smashing loan from the Agra Bank," cried a third.
+
+"You are the very wisest young gentlemen it has ever been my privilege
+to sit down with," said Sewell, with a grin. "Whence could you have
+gleaned all these prudent maxims?"
+
+"I got mine," said the Lieutenant, "from a cousin. Such a good fellow
+as he was! He always tipped me when I was at Sandhurst, but he's past
+tipping any one now."
+
+"Dead?"
+
+"No; I believe it would be better he were; but he was ruined
+in India,--'let in' on a race, and lost everything, even to his
+commission."
+
+"Was his name Stanley?"
+
+"No, Stapyleton,--Frank Stapyleton,--he was in the Grays."
+
+"Sewell, what are you drinking?" cried Cave, with a loudness that
+overbore the talk around him. "I can't see you down there. You 've got
+amongst the youngsters."
+
+"I am in the midst of all that is agreeable and entertaining," said
+Sewell, with a smile of most malicious meaning. "Talk of youngsters,
+indeed! I'd like to hear where you could match them for knowledge of
+life and mankind."
+
+There was certainly nothing in his look or manner as he spoke these
+words that suggested distrust or suspicion to those around him, for they
+seemed overjoyed at his praise, and delighted to hear themselves called
+men of the world. The grim old Major at the opposite side of the table
+shook his head thoughtfully, and muttered some words to himself.
+
+"They 're a shady lot, I take it," said a young captain to his neighbor,
+"those fellows who remain in India, and never come home; either they
+have done something they can't meet in England, or they want to do
+things in India they couldn't do here."
+
+"There's great truth in that remark," said Sewell. "Captain Neeves, let
+us have a glass of wine together. I have myself seen a great deal to
+bear out your observation."
+
+Neeves colored with pleasure at this approval, and went on: "I heard of
+one fellow--I forget his name--I never remember names; but he had a very
+pretty wife, and all the fellows used to make up to her, and pay her
+immense attention, and the husband rooked them all at ecarte, every man
+of them."
+
+"What a scoundrel!" said Sewell, with energy. "You ought to have
+preserved the name, if only for a warning."
+
+"I think I can get it, Colonel. I 'll try and obtain it for you."
+
+"Was it Moorcroft?" cried one.
+
+"Or Massingbred?" asked another.
+
+"I'll wager a sovereign it was Dudgeon; wasn't it Dudgeon?"
+
+But no; it was none of the three. Still, the suggestions opened a whole
+chapter of biographical details, in which each of these worthies vied
+with the other. No man ever listened to the various anecdotes narrated
+with a more eager interest than Sewell. Now and then, indeed, a slight
+incredulity--a sort of puzzled astonishment that the world could be so
+very wicked, that there really were such fellows--would seem to distract
+him; but he listened on, and even occasionally asked an explanation
+of this or of that, to show the extreme attention he vouchsafed to the
+theme.
+
+To be sure, their attempts to describe the way some trick was played
+with the cards or the dice, how the horse was "nobbled" or the match
+"squared," were neither very remarkable for accuracy nor clearness. They
+had not been well "briefed," as lawyers say, or they had not mastered
+their instructions. Sewell, however, was no captious critic; he took
+what he got, and was thankful.
+
+When they arose from the table, the old Major, dropping behind the line
+of those who lounged into the adjoining room, caught a young officer by
+the arm, and whispered some few words in his ear.
+
+"What a scrape I 'm in!" cried the young fellow as he listened.
+
+"I think not, this time; but let it be a caution to you how you talk of
+rumors in presence of men who are strangers to you."
+
+"I say, Major," asked a young captain, coming up hurriedly, "isn't that
+Sewell the man of the Agra affair?"
+
+"I don't think I 'd ask him about it, that's all," said the Major,
+slyly, and moved away.
+
+"I got amongst a capital lot of young fellows at my end of the
+table--second battalion men, I think,--who were all new to me, but very
+agreeable," said Sewell to Cave, as he sipped his coffee.
+
+"You'd like your rubber, Sewell, I know," said Cave; "let us see if we
+haven't got some good players."
+
+"Not to-night,--thanks,--I promised my wife to be home early; one of the
+chicks is poorly."
+
+"I want so much to have a game with Colonel Sewell," said a young
+fellow. "They told me up at Delhi that you hadn't your equal at whist or
+billiards."
+
+Sewell's pale face grew flushed; but though he smiled and bowed, it
+was not difficult to see that his manner evinced more irritation than
+pleasure.
+
+"I say," said another, who sat shuffling the cards by himself at a
+table, "who knows that trick about the double ace in picquet? That was
+the way Beresford was rooked at Madras."
+
+"I must say good-night," said Sewell; "it's a long drive to the Nest You
+'ll come over to breakfast some morning before you leave, won't you?"
+
+"I 'll do my best. At all events, I 'll pay my respects to Mrs. Sewell;"
+and with a good deal of hand-shaking and some cordial speeches Sewell
+took his leave and retired.
+
+Had any one marked the pace at which Sewell drove home that night, black
+and dark as it was, he would have said, "There goes one on some errand
+of life or death." There was something of recklessness in the way
+he pushed his strong-boned thoroughbred, urging him up hill and down
+without check or relief, nor slackening rein till he drew up at his own
+door, the panting beast making the buggy tremble with the violent action
+of his respiration. Low muttering to himself, the groom led the beast
+to the stable, and Sewell passed up the stairs to the small drawing-room
+where his wife usually sat.
+
+She was reading as he entered; a little table with a tea equipage at
+her side. She did not raise her eyes from her book when he came in; but
+whether his footstep on the stair had its meaning to her quick ears
+or not, a slight flush quivered on her cheek, and her mouth trembled
+faintly.
+
+"Shall I give you some tea?" asked she, as he threw himself into a seat.
+He made no answer, and she laid down her book, and sat still and silent.
+
+"Was your dinner pleasant?" said she, after a pause.
+
+"How could it be other than pleasant, Madam," said he, fiercely, "when
+they talked so much of _you?_"
+
+"Of _me?_--talked of _me?_"
+
+"Just so; there were a set of young fellows who had just joined from
+another battalion, and who discoursed of you, of your life in India, of
+your voyage home, and lastly of some incidents that were attributed to
+your sojourn here. To me it was perfectly delightful. I had my opinion
+asked over and over again, if I thought that such a levity was so
+perfectly harmless, and such another liberty was the soul of innocence?
+In a word, Madam, I enjoyed the privilege, very rarely accorded to a
+husband, I fancy, to sit in judgment over his own wife, and say what he
+thought of her conduct."
+
+"Was there no one to tell these gentlemen to whom they were speaking?"
+said she, with a subdued, quiet tone.
+
+"No; I came in late and took my place amongst men all strangers to me. I
+assure you I profited largely by the incident. It is so seldom one gets
+public opinion in its undiluted form, it 's quite refreshing to taste
+it neat. Of course they were not always correct. I could have set them
+right on many points. They had got a totally wrong version of what they
+called the 'Agra row,' though one of the party said he was Beresford's
+cousin."
+
+She grasped the table convulsively to steady herself, and in so doing
+threw it down, and the whole tea equipage with it.
+
+"Yes," continued he, as though responding to this evidence of emotion on
+her part,--"yes; it pushed one's patience pretty hard to be obliged to
+sit under such criticism."
+
+"And what obliged you, sir? was it fear?"
+
+"Yes, Madam, you have guessed it. I was afraid--terribly afraid to own I
+was your husband."
+
+A low faint groan was all she uttered, as she covered her face with her
+hands. "I had next," continued he, "to listen to a dispute as to whether
+Trafford had ever seriously offered to run away with you or not. It was
+almost put to the vote. Faith, I believe my casting voice might have
+carried the thing either way if I had only known how to give it." She
+murmured something too low to be heard correctly, but he caught at
+part of it, and said: "Well, that was pretty much what I suspected. The
+debate was, however, adjourned; and as Cave called me by my name at the
+moment, the confidences came to an abrupt conclusion. As I foresaw that
+these youngsters, ignorant of life and manners as they were, would be at
+once for making apologetic speeches and such-like, I stole away and
+came home, _more domestico_, to ruminate over my enjoyments at my own
+fireside."
+
+"I trust, sir, they were strangers to your own delinquencies. I hope
+they had no unpleasant reminders to give you of yourself."
+
+"Pardon, Madam. They related several of what you pleasantly call my
+delinquencies, but they only came in as the by-play of the scene where
+you were the great character. We figured as brigands. It was _you_
+always who stunned the victim; _I_ only rifled his pockets--fact, I
+assure you. I'm sorry that china is smashed. It was Saxe,--wasn't it?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"And a present of Trafford's too! What a pity! I declare I believe
+we shall not have a single relic of the dear fellow, except it be a
+protested bill or two." He paused a moment or so, and then said, "Do you
+know, it just strikes me that if they saw how ill--how shamefully you
+played your cards in this Trafford affair, they 'd actually absolve you
+of all the Circe gifts the world ascribes to you."
+
+She fixed her eyes steadfastly on him, and as her clasped hands dropped
+on her knees, she leaned forward and said: "What do you mean by it? What
+do you want by this? If these men, whose insolent taunts you had not
+courage to arrest or to resent, say truly, whose the fault? Ay, sir,
+whose the fault? Answer me, if you dare, and say, was not my shame
+incurred to cover and conceal _yours?_"
+
+"Your tragedy-queen airs have no effect upon me. I 've been too long
+behind the scenes to be frightened by stage thunder. What is past
+is past. You married a gambler; and if you shared his good luck, you
+oughtn't to grumble at partaking his bad fortune. If you had been tired
+of the yoke, I take it you 'd have thrown it behind you many a day ago."
+
+"If I had not done so, you know well why," said she, fiercely.
+
+"The old story, I suppose,--the dear darlings upstairs. Well, I can't
+discuss what I know nothing about. I can only promise you that such ties
+would never bind _me_."
+
+"I ask you once again what you mean by this?" cried she, as her lips
+trembled and her pale cheeks shook with agitation. "What does it point
+to? What am I to do? What am I to be?"
+
+"That's the puzzle," said he, with an insolent levity; "and I 'll be
+shot if I can solve it! Sometimes I think we 'd do better to renounce
+the partnership, and try what we could do alone; and sometimes I
+suspect--it sounds odd, does n't it?--but I suspect that we need each
+other."
+
+She had by this time buried her face between her hands, and by the
+convulsive motion of her shoulders, showed she was weeping bitterly.
+
+"One thing is certainly clear," said he, rising, and standing with his
+back to the fire,--"if we decide to part company, we have n't the means.
+If either of us would desert the ship, there 's no boat left to do it
+with."
+
+She arose feebly from her chair, but sank down again, weak and overcome.
+
+"Shall I give you my arm?" asked he.
+
+"No; send Jane to me," said she, in a voice barely above a whisper.
+
+He rang the bell, and said, "Tell Jane her mistress wants her;" and with
+this he searched for a book on the table, found it, and strolled off to
+his room, humming an air as he went.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV. THE TIDELESS SHORES
+
+They who only know the shores of the Mediterranean in the winter months,
+and have but enjoyed the contrast--and what a contrast!--between our
+inky skies and rain-charged atmosphere with that glorious expanse of
+blue heaven and that air of exciting elasticity,--they, I say, can still
+have no conception of the real ecstasy of life in a southern climate
+till they have experienced a summer beside the tideless sea.
+
+Nothing is more striking in these regions than the completeness of
+the change from day to night. It is not alone the rapidity with which
+darkness succeeds,--and in this our delicious twilight is ever to be
+regretted; what I speak of is the marvellous transition from the world
+of sights and sounds to the world of unbroken silence and dimness. In
+the day the whole air rings with life. The flowers flaunt out their
+gorgeous petals, not timidly or reluctantly, but with the bold
+confidence of admitted beauty. The buds unfold beneath your very eyes,
+the rivulets sing in the clear air, and myriads of insects chirp till
+the atmosphere seems to be charged with vitality. This intense vitality
+is the striking characteristic of the scene; and it is to this that
+night succeeds, grand, solemn, and silent, at first to all seeming in
+unrelieved blackness, but soon to be displayed in a glorious expanse
+of darkest, deepest blue, with stars of surpassing size. To make this
+change more effective, too, it is instantaneous. It was but a moment
+back, and you were gazing on the mountain peaks bathed in an opal
+lustre, the cicala making the air vibrate with his song; a soft
+sea-breeze was blowing, and stirring the oranges amongst the leaves;
+and now all is dim and silent and breathless, as suddenly as though an
+enchanter's wand had waved and worked the miracle.
+
+In a little bay--rather a cleft in the shore than a bay--bounded by
+rocks and backed by a steep mountain overgrown with stunted olives,
+stood a small cottage,--so very small that it looked rather like a toy
+house than a human dwelling, a resemblance added to now as the windows
+lay wide open, and all the interior was a blaze of light from two lamps.
+All was still and silent within; no human being was to be seen, nor was
+there a sign of life about the place; for it was the only dwelling on
+the eastern shore of the island, and that island was Maddalena, off
+Sardinia.
+
+In a little nook among the rocks, close to the sea, sat Tom and Lucy
+Lendrick. They held hands, but were silent; for they had come down into
+the darkness to muse and ponder, and drink in the delicious tranquillity
+of that calm hour. Lucy had now been above a week on the island, and
+every day Tom made progress towards recovery. She knew exactly, and
+as none other knew, what amount of care and nursing he would accept of
+without resistance,--where companionship would gratify and where oppress
+him; she knew, besides, when to leave him to the full swing of his own
+wild discursive talk, and never to break in upon his moods of silent
+reflection.
+
+For upwards of half an hour they had sat thus without a word, when Tom,
+suddenly turning round, and looking towards the cottage, said, "Is n't
+this the very sort of thing we used to imagine and wish for long ago,
+Lucy?"
+
+"It was just what was passing through my mind. I was thinking how often
+we longed to have one of the islands on Lough Derg, and to go and live
+there all by ourselves."
+
+"We never dreamed of anything so luxurious as this, though. We knew
+nothing of limes and oranges, Lucy. We never fancied such a starry
+sky, or an air so loaded with perfume. I declare," cried he, with more
+energy, "it repays one for all the disappointment, to come and taste the
+luxury of such a night as this."
+
+"And what is the disappointment you speak of, Tom?"
+
+"I mean about our project-that blessed mine, by which we were to have
+amassed a fortune, and which has only yielded lead enough to shoot
+ourselves with."
+
+"I never suspected that," said she, with a sigh.
+
+"Of course you never did; nor am I in a great hurry to tell it even now.
+I'd not whisper it if Sir Brook were on the same island with us. Do you
+know, girl, that he resents a word against the mine as if it was a stain
+upon his own honour. For a while I used to catch up his enthusiasm, and
+think if we only go on steadily, if we simply persist, we are sure to
+succeed in the end. But when week after week rolled over, and not a
+trace of a mineral appeared when the very workmen said we were toiling
+in vain when I felt half-ashamed to meet the jeering questions of
+the neighbours, and used to skulk up to the shaft by the back way,--he
+remarked it, and said to me one morning, 'I am afraid, Tom, it is
+your sense of loyalty to me that keeps you here, and not your hope of
+success. Be frank, and tell me if this be so.' I blundered out something
+about my determination to share his fate, whatever it might be, and it
+would have been lucky if I had stopped there; but I went on to say that
+I thought the mine was an arrant delusion, and that the sooner we turned
+our backs on it, and addressed our energies to another quarter, the
+better. 'You think so?' said he, looking almost fiercely at me. 'I am
+certain of it,' said I, decisively; for I thought the moment had come
+when a word of truth could do him good service. He went out without
+speaking, and instead of going to Lavanna, where the mine is, he went
+over to Cagliari, and only came home late at night. The next morning,
+while we were taking our coffee before 'setting out, he said to me,
+'Don't strap on your knapsack to-day. I don't mean you should come down
+into the shaft again.' 'How so?' asked I; 'what have I said or done that
+could offend you?' 'Nothing, my dear boy,' said he, laying his hand on
+my shoulder; 'but I cannot bear you should meet this dreary life of toil
+without the one thing that can lighten its gloom--Hope. I have managed,
+therefore, to raise a small sum on the mine; for,' said he, with a sly
+laugh, 'there are men in Cagliari who don't take the despondent view
+you have taken of it; and I have written to my old friend at the Horse
+Guards to give you a commission, and you shall go and be a soldier.'
+And leave you here, sir, all alone?' 'Far from alone, lad. I have that
+companion which you tell me never joined _you_. I have Hope with _me_.'
+
+"'Then I'll stay too, sir, and try if he'll not give me his company yet.
+At all events, I shall have _yours_; and there is nothing I know that
+could recompense me for the loss of it.' It was not very easy to turn
+him from his plan, but I insisted so heartily-for I'd have stayed on
+now, if it were to have entailed a whole life of poverty-that he gave in
+at last; and from that hour to this, not a word of other than agreement
+has passed between us. For my own part, I began to work with a will,
+and a determination that I never felt before; and perhaps I overtaxed my
+strength, for I caught this fever by remaining till the heavy dews began
+to fall, and in this climate it is always a danger."
+
+"And the mine, Tom--did it grow better?" "Not a bit. I verily believe
+we never saw ore from that day. We got upon yellow clay, and lower down
+upon limestone rock, and then upon water; and we are pumping away yet,
+and old Sir Brook is just as much interested by the decrease of the
+water as if he saw a silver floor beneath it. 'We've got eight inches
+less this morning, Tom; we are doing famously now.' I declare to you,
+Lucy, when I saw his fine cheery look and bright honest eye, I thought
+how far better this man's fancies are than the hard facts of other
+people; and I'd rather have his great nature than all the wealth success
+could bring us."
+
+"My own dear brother!" was all she could say, as she grasped his hand,
+and held it with both her own.
+
+"The worst of all is, that in the infatuation he feels about this mining
+project he forgets everything else. Letters come to him from agents and
+men of business asking for speedy answers; some occasionally come to
+tell that funds upon which he had reckoned to meet certain payments
+had been withdrawn from his banker long sinca When he reads these, he
+ponders a moment, and mutters, 'The old story, I suppose. It is so easy
+to write Brook Fossbrooke;' and then the whole seems to pass out of his
+mind, and he'll say, 'Come along, Tom; we must push matters a little;
+I'll want some coin by the end of the month.'
+
+"When I grew so weak that I could n't go to the mine, the accounts he
+used to give me daily made me think we must be prospering. He would come
+back every night so cheery and so hopeful, and his eyes would sparkle
+as he 'd tell of a bright vein that they 'd just 'struck.' He owned that
+the men were less sanguine, but what could they know? They had no other
+teaching than the poor experiences of daily labor. If they saw lead or
+silver, they believed in it. To him, however, the signs of the coming
+ore were enough; and then he would open a paper full of dark earth in
+which a few shining particles might be detected, and point them out to
+me as the germs of untold riches. 'These are silver, Tom, every one
+of them; they are oxidized, but still perfectly pure. I 've seen the
+natives in Ceylon washing earth not richer than this;' and the poor
+fellow would make this hopeful tidings the reason for treating me to
+champagne, which in an unlucky moment the doctor said would be good for
+me, and which Sir Brook declared always disagreed with him. But I don't
+believe it, Lucy,--I don't believe it! I am certain that he suffered
+many a privation to give me luxuries that he would n't share. Shall I
+tell you the breakfast I saw him eating one morning? I had gone to his
+room to speak to him before he started to the mine, and, opening the
+door gently, I surprised him at his breakfast,--a piece of brown bread
+and a cup of coffee without milk was his meal, to support him till he
+came home at nightfall. I knew if he were aware that I had seen him that
+it would have given him great distress, so I crept quietly back to my
+bed, and lay down to think of this once pampered, flattered gentleman,
+and how grand the nature must be that could hold up uncomplaining and
+unshaken under such poverty as this. Nor is it that he ignores the past,
+Lucy, or strives to forget it,--far from that. He is full of memories
+of bygone events and people, but he talks of his own part in the grand
+world he once lived in as one might talk of another individual; nor is
+there the semblance of a regret that all this splendor has passed away
+never to return. He will be here on Sunday to pay us a visit, Lucy; and
+though perhaps you 'll find him sadly changed in appearance, you 'll see
+that his fine nature is the same as ever."
+
+"And will he persist in this project, Tom, in spite of all failure and
+in defiance of hope?"
+
+"That's the very point I 'm puzzled about. If he decide to go on, so
+must I. I 'll not leave him, whatever come of it."
+
+"No, no, Tom; that I know you will not do."
+
+"His confidence of success is unshaken. It was only t' other night, as
+we sat at a very frugal supper, he said, 'You 'll remember all this,
+Tom, one of these days; and as you sip your Burgundy, you 'll tell your
+friends how jolly we thought ourselves over our little acid wine and an
+onion.' I did not dare to say what was uppermost in my thoughts, that I
+disbelieved in the Burgundy era."
+
+"It would have been cruel to have done it."
+
+"He had the habit, he tells me, in his days of palmiest prosperity, of
+going off by himself on foot, and wandering about for weeks, roughing it
+amongst all sorts of people,---gypsies, miners, charcoal-burners in the
+German forests, and such-like. He said, without something of this sort,
+he would have grown to believe that all the luxuries he lived amongst
+were _bona fide_ necessities of life. He was afraid too, he said, they
+would become part of him; for his theory is, never let your belongings
+master your own nature."
+
+"There is great romance in such a man."
+
+"Ah! there you have it, Lucy; that's the key to his whole temperament;
+and I 'd not be surprised if he had been crossed in some early love."
+
+"Would that account for all his capricious ways?" said she, smiling.
+
+"My own experiences can tell me nothing; but I have a sister who could
+perhaps help me to an explanation. Eh, Lucy? What think you?"
+
+She tried to laugh off the theme, but the attempt only half succeeded,
+and she turned away her head to hide her confusion.
+
+Tom took her hand between his own, and patted it affectionately.
+
+"I want no confessions, my own dear Lucy," said he, gently; "but if
+there is anything which, for your own happiness or for my honor, I ought
+to know, you will tell me of it, I am certain."
+
+"There is nothing," said she, with a faint gasp.
+
+"And you would tell me if there had been?"
+
+She nodded her head, but did not trust herself to speak.
+
+"And grandpapa, Lucy?" said he, trying to divert her thoughts from what
+he saw was oppressing her; "has he forgiven me yet, or does he still
+harp on about my presumption and self-sufficiency?"
+
+"He is more forgiving than you think, Tom," said she, smiling.
+
+"I am not so sure of that. He wrote me a long letter some time back,--a
+sort of lecture on the faults and shortcomings of my disposition,
+in which he clearly showed that if I had all the gifts which my own
+self-confidence ascribed to me, and a score more that I never dreamed
+of, they would go for nothing,--absolutely nothing, so long as they
+were allied with my unparalleled--no, he did n't call it impudence, but
+something very near it. He told me that men of my stamp were like the
+people who traded on credit, and always cut a sorry figure when their
+accounts came to be audited; and, perhaps to stave off the hour of my
+bankruptcy, he enclosed me fifty pounds."
+
+"So like him!" said she, proudly.
+
+"I suppose it was. Indeed, as I read his note, I thought I heard him
+talking it. There was an acrid flippancy about it that smacked of his
+very voice."
+
+"Oh, Tom, I will not let you say that."
+
+"I 'll think it all the same, Lucy. His letter brought him back to my
+mind so palpably that I thought I stood there before him on that
+morning when he delivered that memorable discourse on my character after
+luncheon."
+
+"Did you reply to him?"
+
+"Yes, I replied," said he, with a dry sententiousness that sounded as
+though he wished the subject to drop.
+
+"Do tell me what you said. I hope you took it in good part. I am sure
+you could not have shown any resentment at his remarks."
+
+"No; I rather think I showed great forbearance. I simply said, 'My dear
+Lord Chief Baron, I have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, of
+which I accept everything but the enclosure.--I am, faithfully yours.'"
+
+"And refused his gift?"
+
+"Of course I did. The good counsel without the money, or the last
+without the counsel, would have beeu all very well; but coming together,
+in what a false position the offer placed me! I remember that same day
+we happened to have an unusually meagre dinner, but I drank the old
+man's health after it in some precious bad wine; and Sir Brook, who knew
+nothing about the letter, joined in the toast, and pronounced a very
+pretty little eulogium on his vigor and energy; and thus ended the whole
+incident."
+
+"If you only knew him better, Tom! if you knew him as I know him!"
+
+Tom shrugged his shoulders, and merely said, "It was nicely done,
+though, not to tell _you_ about this. There was delicacy in _that_."
+
+Lucy went on now to relate all his kind intentions towards Tom when the
+news of his illness arrived,--how he had conferred with Beattie about
+sending out a doctor, and how, at such a sacrifice to his own daily
+habits, he had agreed that she should come out to Cagliari. "And you
+don't know how much this cost him, Master Tom," said she, laughing; "for
+however little store you may lay by my company, he prizes it, and prizes
+it highly too, I promise you; and then there was another reason which
+weighed against his letting me come out here,--he has got some absurd
+prejudice against Sir Brook. I call it absurd, because I have tried to
+find out to what to trace it, and could not; but a chance expression or
+two that fell from Mrs. Sewell leads me to suppose the impression was
+derived from them."
+
+"I don't believe he knows the Sewells. I never heard him speak of them.
+I 'll ask when he comes over here. By the way, how do you like them
+yourself?"
+
+"I scarcely know. I liked her at first,--that is, I thought I should
+like her; and I fancied, too, it was her wish that I might--but--"
+
+"But what? What does this 'but' mean?"
+
+"It means that she has puzzled me, and my hope of liking her depends on
+my discovering that I have misunderstood her."
+
+"That's a riddle, if ever there was one! but I suppose it comes to this,
+that if you have read her aright you do not like her."
+
+"I wish I could show you a letter she wrote me."
+
+"And why can't you?"
+
+"I don't think I can tell you even that, Tom."
+
+"What a mysterious damsel you have grown! Does this come of your living
+with that great law lord, Lucy? If so, tell him from me he has spoiled
+you sadly. How frank you were long ago!"
+
+"That is true," said she, sighing.
+
+"How I wish we could go back to that time, with all its dreaminess and
+all its castle-building. Do you remember, Lu, when we used to set off
+of a morning in the boat on a voyage of discovery, as we called it, and
+find out new islands and new creeks, and give them names?"
+
+"Do I not? Oh, Tom, were we not a thousand times happier then than we
+knew we were?"
+
+"That's a bit of a bull, Lucy, but it's true all the same. I know all
+you mean, and I agree with you."
+
+"If we had troubles, what light ones they were!"
+
+"Ay, that's true. We were not grubbing for lead in those days, and
+finding only quartz; and our poor hearts, Lucy, were whole enough then."
+He gave a half malicious laugh as he said this; but, correcting himself
+quickly, he drew her towards him and said, "Don't be angry with me, dear
+Lu; you know of old what a reckless tongue I 've got."
+
+"Was that thunder, Tom? There it is again. What is it?"
+
+"That's a storm getting up. It's coming from the south'ard. See how the
+drift is flying overhead, and all the while the sea beneath is like a
+mill-pond! Watch the stars now, and you 'll see how, one by one, they
+will drop out, as if extinguished; and mark the little plash--it
+is barely audible--that begins upon the beach. There! did you hear
+that,--that rushing sound like wind through the trees? That's the sea
+getting up. How I wish I was strong enough to stay out here. I 'd like
+to show you a 'Levanter,' girl,--a regular bit of Southern passion, not
+increasing slowly, like a Northern wrath, but bursting out in its full
+fury in an instant. Here it comes!" and as he spoke two claps of thunder
+shook the air, followed by a long clattering roll like musketry, and
+the sea, upheaving, surged heavily hither and thither, while the air was
+still and calm; and then, as though let loose from their caverns, the
+winds swept past with a wild shrill whistle that swelled into a perfect
+roar. The whole surface of the sea became at once white, and the wind,
+sweeping across the crests of the waves, carried away a blinding drift
+that added to the darkness. The thunder, too, rolled on unceasingly, and
+great flashes of lightning broke through the blackness, and displayed
+tall masts and spars of ships far out to sea, rocking fearfully, and in
+the next instant lost to sight in the dense darkness.
+
+"Here comes the rain, and we must run for it," said Tom, as a few heavy
+drops fell. A solemn pause in the storm ensued, and then, as though the
+very sky was rent, the water poured down in cataracts. Laughing merrily,
+they made for the cottage, and though but a few yards off, were drenched
+thoroughly ere they reached it.
+
+"It's going to be a terrific night," said Tom, as he passed from window
+to window, looking to the bars and fastenings. "The great heat always
+brings one of the Levant storms, and the fishermen here know it so well
+that on seeing certain signs at sunset they draw up all their boats on
+shore, and even secure the roofs of their cabins with strong spars and
+stones."
+
+"I hope poor old Nicholas is safe by this time. Could he have reached
+Cagliari by this?" said Lucy.
+
+"Yes, he is snug enough. The old rogue is sitting at his supper this
+minute, cursing the climate and the wine and the place, and the day he
+came to it."
+
+"Come, Tom! I think he bears everything better than I expected."
+
+"Bears everything better! Why, child, what has he to bear that you and
+I have not to bear? Is there one privation here that falls to his share
+without coming to us?"
+
+"And what would be the value of that good blood you are so proud of,
+Tom, if it would not make us as proof against petty annoyances as
+against big dangers?"
+
+"I declare time and place make no change on you. You are the same
+disputatious damsel here that you used to be beside the Shannon. Have
+I not told you scores of times you must never quote what one has once
+said, when it comes in opposition to a present opinion?"
+
+"But if I cease to quote you, Tom, whence am I to derive those maxims of
+wisdom I rely upon so implicitly?"
+
+"Take care, young lady,--take care," said he, shaking his finger at
+her. "Every fort has its weak side. If you assail me by the brain, I
+may attack you at the heart! How will it be then, eh?" Coloring till
+her face and neck were crimson, she tried to laugh; but though her lips
+parted, no sound came forth, and after a second or two of struggle, she
+said, "Good-night," and rushed away.
+
+"Good-night, Lu," cried he after her. "Look well to your
+window-fastenings, or you will be blown away before morning."
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by
+Charles James Lever
+
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diff --git a/35296.zip b/35296.zip
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #35296 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35296)
diff --git a/old/35296-h.htm.2021-01-25 b/old/35296-h.htm.2021-01-25
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
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+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Vol I. by Charles James Lever,
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    pre     { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+Project Gutenberg's Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by Charles James Lever
+
+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: Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I.
+
+Author: Charles James Lever
+
+Illustrator: E. J. Wheeler
+
+Release Date: February 16, 2011 [EBook #35296]
+Last Updated: February 28, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE, VOLUME I. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<p>
+<br /><br />
+</p>
+<h1>
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE
+</h1>
+<h3>
+Volume I.
+</h3>
+<h2>
+By Charles James Lever,
+</h2>
+<h3>
+With Illustrations By E. J. Wheeler
+</h3>
+<h4>
+Boston: <br /> Little, Brown, And Company. <br /> 1917.
+</h4>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="frontispiece (72K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="titlepage (21K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br /> <br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<h3>
+To PHILIP ROSE, Esq.
+</h3>
+<p>
+My dear Rose,&mdash;You have often stopped me when endeavouring to express
+all the gratitude I felt towards you. You cannot do so now, nor prevent my
+telling aloud how much I owe-how much I esteem you. These volumes were not
+without interest for me as I wrote them, but they yielded me no such
+pleasure as I now feel in dedicating them to you; and, with this
+assurance, believe me,
+</p>
+<p>
+Your affectionate Friend,
+</p>
+<p>
+CHARLES LEVER.
+</p>
+<p>
+Spezia, October 20. 1866.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p class="toc">
+<big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+</p>
+<p>
+<br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. </a><br /> <br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AFTER MESS <br /><br />
+<a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE SWAN'S NEST
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+DIFFICULT PATIENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HOME
+DIPLOMACIES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WAITING ON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER
+VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOR <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A PUZZLING
+COMMISSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;CAVE CONSULTS SIR
+BROOK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+GREAT MAN'S SCHOOLFELLOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER
+XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;LAST DAYS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014">
+CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. HAIRE'S MISSION
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SORROWS
+AND PROJECTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER
+XVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE FIRST LETTER HOME <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;OFFICIAL MYSTERIES
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;IN COURT
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+MORNING CALL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;COMING-HOME
+THOUGHTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+VERY HUMBLE DWELLING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A MORNING AT THE PRIORY <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SIR
+BROOK IN CONFUSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE TWO LUCYS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028">
+CHAPTER XXVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE NEST WITH STRANGE &ldquo;BIRDS&rdquo; IN IT
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SEWELL
+VISITS CAVE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+RACES ON THE LAWN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SEWELL
+ARRIVES IN DUBLIN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII.
+</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MORNING AT THE PRIORY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033">
+CHAPTER XXXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;EVENING AT THE PRIORY <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SEWELL'S TROUBLES
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEATTIE'S
+RETURN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN
+EXIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+STORMY MOMENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A LADY'S LETTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0039">
+CHAPTER XXXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SOME CONJUGAL COURTESIES <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. BALFOUR'S OFFICE
+<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+PRIORY IN ITS DESERTION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER
+XLII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;NECESSITIES OP STATE <br /><br /> <a
+href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MR. BALFOUR'S
+MISSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XLIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AFTER-DINNER
+THOUGHTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER XLV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+TIDELESS SHORES <br /><br />
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h1>
+SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE.
+</h1>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER I. AFTER MESS
+</h2>
+<p>
+The mess was over, and the officers of H. M.'s &mdash;th were grouped in
+little knots and parties, sipping their coffee, and discussing the
+arrangements for the evening. Their quarter was that pleasant city of
+Dublin, which, bating certain exorbitant demands in the matter of
+field-day and guard-mounting, stands pre-eminently first in military
+favor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you going to that great ball in Merrion Square?&rdquo; asked one., &ldquo;Not so
+lucky; not invited.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I got a card,&rdquo; cried a third; &ldquo;but I 've just heard it's not to come off.
+It seems that the lady's husband is a judge. He's Chief something or
+other; and he has been called away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, Tomkins; unless you call a summons to the next world
+being called away. The man is dangerously ill. He was seized with
+paralysis on the Bench yesterday, and, they say, can't recover.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There now ensued an animated conversation as to whether, on death
+vacancies, the men went up by seniority at the bar, or whether a subaltern
+could at once spring up to the top of the regiment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Suppose,&rdquo; said one, &ldquo;we were to ask the Colonel's guest his opinion. The
+old cove has talked pretty nigh of everything in this world during dinner;
+what if we were to ask him about Barons of the Exchequer?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is he? what is he?&rdquo; asked another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Colonel called him Sir Brook Fossbrooke; that's all I know.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Colonel Cave told me,&rdquo; whispered the Major, &ldquo;that he was the fastest man
+on town some forty years ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think he must have kept over the wardrobe of that brilliant period,&rdquo;
+ said another. &ldquo;I never saw a really swallow-tailed coat before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His ring amused <i>me</i>. It is a small smoothing-iron, with a
+coat-of-arms on it. Hush! here he comes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The man who now joined the group was a tall, gaunt figure, with a high
+narrow head, from which the hair was brushed rigidly back to fall behind
+in something like an old-fashioned queue. His eyes were black, and
+surmounted with massive and much-arched eyebrows; a strongly marked mouth,
+stern, determined, and, except in speaking, almost cruel in expression,
+and a thin-pointed projecting chin, gave an air of severity and strong
+will to features which, when he conversed, displayed a look of courteous
+deference, and that peculiar desire to please that we associate with a
+bygone school of breeding. He was one of those men, and very distinctive
+are they, with whom even the least cautious take no liberties, nor venture
+upon any familiarity. The eccentricities of determined men are very often
+indications of some deep spirit beneath, and not, as in weaker natures,
+mere emanations of vanity or offsprings of self-indulgence.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he was, beyond question, a gentleman, there were also signs about him
+of narrow fortune: his scrupulously white shirt was not fine, and the
+seams of his well-brushed coat showed both care and wear.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had joined the group, who were talking of the coming Derby when the
+Colonel came up. &ldquo;I have sent for the man we want, Fossbrooke. I'm not a
+fisherman myself; but they tell me he knows every lake, river, and rivulet
+in the island. He has sat down to whist, but we 'll have him here
+presently.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On no account; don't disturb his game for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here he comes. Trafford, I want to present you to a very old friend of
+mine, Sir Brook Fossbrooke,&mdash;as enthusiastic an angler as yourself.
+He has the ambition to hook an Irish salmon. I don't suppose any one can
+more readily help him on the road to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The young man thus addressed was a large, strongly, almost heavily built
+young fellow, but with that looseness of limb and freedom that showed
+activity had not been sacrificed to mere power. He had a fine, frank,
+handsome face, blue-eyed and bold-looking; and as he stood to receive the
+Colonel's orders, there was in his air that blending of deference and
+good-humored carelessness that made up his whole nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was plain to see in him one easy to persuade, impossible to coerce; a
+fellow with whom the man he liked could do anything, bat one perfectly
+unmanageable if thrown into the wrong hands. He was the second son of a
+very rich baronet, but made the mistake of believing he had as much right
+to extravagance as his elder brother, and, having persisted in this error
+during two years in the Life Guards, had been sent to do the double
+penance of an infantry regiment and an Irish station; two inflictions
+which, it was believed, would have sufficed to calm down the ardor of the
+most impassioned spendthrift. He looked at Fossbrooke from head to foot.
+It was not exactly the stamp of man he would have selected for
+companionship, but he saw at once that he was distinctively a gentleman,
+and then the prospect of a few days away from regimental duty was not to
+be despised, and he quickly replied that both he and his tackle were at
+Sir Brook's disposal. &ldquo;If we could run down to Killaloe, sir,&rdquo; added he,
+turning to the Colonel, &ldquo;we might be almost sure of some sport.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which means that you want two days' leave, Trafford.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, four. It will take a day at least to get over there; another
+will be lost in exploring; all these late rains have sent such a fresh
+into the Shannon there's no knowing where to try.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see, Fossbrooke, what a casuistical companion I've given you. I 'll
+wager you a five-pound note that if you come back without a rise he 'll
+have an explanation that will perfectly explain it was the best thing
+could have happened.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am charmed to travel in such company,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, bowing. &ldquo;The
+gentleman has already established a claim to my respect for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Trafford bowed too, and looked not at all displeased at the compliment.
+&ldquo;Are you an early riser, sir?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am anything, sir, the occasion exacts; but when I have an early start
+before me, I usually sit up all night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own plan too,&rdquo; cried Trafford. &ldquo;And there's Aubrey quite ready to join
+us. Are you a whister, Sir Brook?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At your service. I play all games.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he a whister?&rdquo; repeated the Colonel. &ldquo;Ask Harry Greville, ask Tom
+Newenham, what they say of him at Grahams? Trafford, my boy, you may
+possibly give him a hint about gray hackles, but I 'll be shot if you do
+about the odd trick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you 'll come over to my room, Sir Brook, we 'll have a rubber, and I
+'ll give orders to have my tax-cart ready for us by daybreak,&rdquo; said
+Trafford; and, Fossbrooke promising to be with him so soon as he had given
+his servant his orders, they parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are you as equal to this sitting up all night as you used to be,
+Fossbrooke?&rdquo; asked the Colonel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't smoke as many cigars as formerly, and I am a little more choice
+about my tobacco. I avoid mulled port, and take weak brandy-and-water; and
+I believe in all other respects I 'm pretty much where I was when we met
+last,&mdash;I think it was at Ceylon?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I could say as much for myself. You are talking of thirty-four
+years ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My secret against growing old is to do a little of everything. It keeps
+the sympathies wider, makes a man more accessible to other men, and keeps
+him from dwelling too much on himself. But tell me about my young
+companion; is he one of Sir Hugh's family?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His second son; not unlike to be his eldest, for George has gone to
+Madeira with very little prospect of recovery. This is a fine lad; a
+little wild, a little careless of money, but the very soul of honor and
+right-mindedness. They sent him to me as a sort of incurable, but I have
+nothing but good to say of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 'a great promise in a fellow when he can be a scamp and a man of
+honor. When dissipations do not degrade and excesses do not corrupt a man,
+there is a grand nature ever beneath.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't tell him that, Fossbrooke,&rdquo; said the Colonel, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not likely to do so,&rdquo; said he, with a grim smile. &ldquo;I am glad, too,
+to meet his father's son; we were at Christ Church together; and now I see
+he has the family good looks. 'Le beau Trafford' was a proverb in Paris
+once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you ever forget a man?&rdquo; asked the Colonel, in some curiosity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe not. I forget books, places, dates occasionally, but never
+people. I met an old schoolfellow t'other day at Dover whom I never saw
+since we were boys. He had gone down in the world, and was acting as one
+of the 'commissionnaires' they call them, who take your keys to the
+Custom-house to have your luggage examined; and when he came to ask me to
+employ him, I said, &ldquo;'What! ain't you Jemmy Harper?' 'And who the devil
+are you?' said he. 'Fossbrooke,' said I. 'Not &ldquo;Wart&rdquo;?' said he. That was
+my school nickname, from a wart I once had on my chin. 'Ay, to be sure,'
+said I, 'Wart.' I wish you saw the delight of the old dog. I made him dine
+with us. Lord Brackington was with me, and enjoyed it all immensely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what had brought him so low?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He was cursed, he said, with a strong constitution; all the other fellows
+of his set had so timed it that when they had nothing to live on they
+ceased to live; but Jemmy told us he never had such an appetite as now;
+that he passed from fourteen to sixteen hours a day on the pier in all
+weathers; and as to gout he firmly believed it all came of the adulterated
+wines of the great wine-merchants. British gin he maintained to be the
+wholesomest liquor in existence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder how fellows bear up under such reverses as that,&rdquo; said the
+Colonel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My astonishment is rather,&rdquo; cried Fossbrooke, &ldquo;how men can live on in a
+monotony of well-being, getting fatter, older, and more unwieldy, and with
+only such experiences of life as a well-fed fowl might have in a hencoop.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know that's <i>your</i> theory,&rdquo; said the other, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, no man can say that I have not lived up to my convictions; and for
+myself, I can aver I have thoroughly enjoyed my intercourse with the
+world, and like it as well to-day as on the first morning I made my bow to
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen to this, young gentlemen,&rdquo; said the Colonel, turning to his
+officers, who now gathered around them. &ldquo;Now and then I hear some of you
+complaining of being bored or wearied,&mdash;sick of this, tired of that;
+here's my friend, who knows the whole thing better than any of us, and he
+declares that the world is the best of all possible worlds, and that so
+far from familiarity with it inspiring disgust with life, his enjoyment of
+it is as racy as when first he knew it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is rather hard to ask these gentlemen to take me as a guide on trust,&rdquo;
+ said Fossbrooke; &ldquo;but I have known the fathers of most of those I see
+around me, and could call many of them as witnesses to character. Major
+Aylmer, your father and I went up the Nile together, when people talked of
+it as a journey. Captain Harris, I 'm sure I am not wrong in saying you
+are the son of Godfrey Harris, of Harrisburg. Your father was my friend on
+the day I wounded Lord Ecclesmore. I see four or five others too,&mdash;so
+like old companions that I find it hard to believe I am not back again in
+the old days when I was as young as themselves; and yet I 'm not very
+certain if I would like to exchange my present quiet enjoyment as a
+looker-on for all that active share I once took in life and its
+pleasures.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Something in the fact that their fathers had lived in his intimacy,
+something in his manner,&mdash;a very courteous manner it was,&mdash;and
+something in the bold, almost defiant bearing of the old man, vouching for
+great energy and dignity together, won greatly upon the young men, and
+they gathered around him. He was, however, summoned away by a message from
+Trafford to say that the whist-party waited for him, and he took his leave
+with a stately courtesy and withdrew.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There goes one of the strangest fellows in Christendom,&rdquo; said the
+Colonel, as the other left the room. &ldquo;He has already gone through three
+fortunes; he dissipated the first, speculated and lost the second, and the
+third he, I might say, gave away in acts of benevolence and kindness,&mdash;leaving
+himself so ill off that I actually heard the other day that some friend
+had asked for the place of barrack-master at Athlone for him; but on
+coming over to see the place, he found a poor fellow with a wife and five
+children a candidate for it; so he retired in his favor, and is content,
+as you see, to go out on the world, and take his chance with it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Innumerable questions pressed on the Colonel to tell more of his strange
+friend; he had, however, little beyond hearsay to give them. Of his own
+experiences, he could only say that when first he met him it was at
+Ceylon, where he had come in a yacht like a sloop of war to hunt
+elephants,&mdash;the splendor of his retinue and magnificence of his suite
+giving him the air of a royal personage,&mdash;and indeed the gorgeous
+profusion of his presents to the King and the chief personages of the
+court went far to impress this notion. &ldquo;I never met him since,&rdquo; said the
+Colonel, &ldquo;till this morning, when he walked into my room, dusty and
+travel-stained, to say, 'I just heard your name, and thought I 'd ask you
+to give me my dinner to-day.' I owe him a great many,&mdash;not to say
+innumerable other attentions; and his last act on leaving Trincomalee was
+to present me with an Arab charger, the most perfect animal I ever
+mounted. It is therefore a real pleasure to me to receive him. He is a
+thoroughly fine-hearted fellow, and, with all his eccentricities, one of
+the noblest natures I ever met. The only flaw in his frankness is as to
+his age; nobody has ever been able to get it from him. You heard him talk
+of your fathers,&mdash;he might talk of your grandfathers; and he would,
+too, if we had only the opportunity to lead him on to it. I know of my own
+knowledge that he lived in the Carlton House coterie, not a man of which
+except himself survives, and I have heard him give imitations of Burke,
+Sheridan, Gavin Hamilton, and Pitt, that none but one who had seen them
+could have accomplished. And now that I have told you all this, will one
+of you step over to Trafford's rooms, and whisper him a hint to make his
+whist-points as low as he can; and, what is even of more importance, to
+take care lest any strange story Sir Brook may tell&mdash;and he is full
+of them&mdash;meet a sign of incredulity, still less provoke any quizzing?
+The slightest shade of such a provocation would render him like a madman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Major volunteered to go on this mission, which indeed any of the
+others would as willingly have accepted, for the old man had interested
+them deeply, and they longed to hear more about him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER II. THE SWAN'S NEST
+</h2>
+<p>
+As the Shannon draws near Killaloe, the wild character of the mountain
+scenery, the dreary wastes and desolate islands which marked Lough Derg,
+disappear, and give way to gently sloping lawns, dotted over with
+well-grown timber, well-kept demesnes, spacious country-houses, and a
+country which, in general, almost recalls the wealth and comfort of
+England.
+</p>
+<p>
+About a mile above the town, in a little bend of the river forming a small
+bay, stands a small but pretty house, with a skirt of rich wood projecting
+at the back, while the lawn in front descends by an easy slope to the
+river.
+</p>
+<p>
+Originally a mere farmhouse, the taste of an ingenious owner had taken
+every advantage of its irregular outline, and converted it into something
+Elizabethan in character, a style admirably adapted to the site, where all
+the features of rich-colored landscape abounded, and where varied foliage,
+heathy mountain, and eddying river, all lent themselves to make up a scene
+of fresh and joyous beauty.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the marvellous fertility of the soil, too, was found an ally to every
+prospect of embellishment. Sheltered from north and east winds, plants
+grew here in the open air, which in less favored spots needed the
+protection of the conservatory; and thus in the neatly shaven lawn were
+seen groups of blossoming shrubs or flowers of rare excellence, and the
+camellia and the salvia and the oleander blended with the tulip, the
+moss-rose, and the carnation, to stud the grass with their gorgeous
+colors.
+</p>
+<p>
+Over the front of the cottage, for cottage it really was, a South American
+creeper, a sort of acanthus, grew, its crimson flowers hanging in rich
+profusion over cornice and architrave; while a passion-tree of great age
+covered the entire porch, relieving with its softened tints the almost
+over-brilliancy of the southern plant.
+</p>
+<p>
+Seen from the water,&mdash;and it came suddenly into view on rounding a
+little headland,&mdash;few could forbear from an exclamation of wonder and
+admiration at this lovely spot; nor could all the pretentious grandeur of
+the rich-wooded parks, nor all the more imposing architecture of the great
+houses, detract from the marvellous charm of this simple home.
+</p>
+<p>
+A tradition of a swan carried away by some rising of the river from the
+Castle of Portumna, and swept down the lake till it found refuge in the
+little bay, had given the name to the place, and for more than a hundred
+years was it known as the Swan's Nest. The Swan, however, no longer
+existed, though a little thatched edifice at the water-side marked the
+spot it had once inhabited, and sustained the truth of the legend.
+</p>
+<p>
+The owner of the place was a Dr. Lendrick: he had come to it about twenty
+years before the time at which our story opens,&mdash;a widower with two
+children, a son and a daughter. He was a perfect stranger to all the
+neighborhood, though by name well known as the son of a distinguished
+judge, Baron Lendrick of the Court of Exchequer.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was rumored about, that, having displeased his father, first by
+adopting medicine instead of law as his profession, and subsequently by
+marrying a portionless girl of humble family, the Baron had ceased to
+recognize him in any way. Making a settlement of a few hundreds a year on
+him, he resolved to leave the bulk of his fortune to a step-son, the child
+of his second wife, a Colonel Sewell, then in India.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was with no thought of practising his profession that Dr. Lendrick had
+settled in the neighborhood; but as he was always ready to assist the poor
+by his advice and skill, and as the reputation of his great ability
+gradually got currency, he found himself constrained to yield to the
+insistence of his neighbors, and consent to practise generally. There were
+many things which made this course unpalatable to him. He was by nature
+shy, timid, and retiring; he was fastidiously averse to a new
+acquaintanceship; he had desired, besides, to live estranged from the
+world, devoting himself entirely to the education of his children; and he
+neither liked the forced publicity he became exposed to, nor that life of
+servitude which leaves the doctor at the hourly mercy of the world around
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he yielded, therefore, to the professional calls upon him, he resisted
+totally all social claims: he went nowhere but as the doctor.
+</p>
+<p>
+No persuasion, no inducement, could prevail on him to dine out; no
+exigency of time or season prevent him returning to his home at night.
+There were in his neighborhood one or two persons whose rank might have,
+it was supposed, influenced him in some degree to comply with their
+requests,&mdash;and, certainly, whose desire for his society would have
+left nothing undone to secure it; but he was as obdurate to them as to
+others, and the Earl of Drum-carran and Sir Reginald Lacy, of Lacy Manor,
+were not a whit more successful in their blandishments than the Vicar of
+Killaloe&mdash;old Bob Mills, as he was irreverently called&mdash;or
+Lendrick's own colleague, Dr. Tobin, who, while he respected his superior
+ability and admitted his knowledge, secretly hated him as only a rival
+doctor knows how to hate a brother practitioner.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the first time for many years had Dr. Lendrick gone up to Dublin. A
+few lines from an old family physician, Dr. Beattie, had, however, called
+him up to town. The Chief Baron had been taken ill in Court, and was
+conveyed home in a state of insensibility. It was declared that he had
+rallied and passed a favorable night; but as he was a man of very advanced
+age, at no time strong, and ever unsparing of himself in the arduous
+labors of his office, grave doubts were felt that he would ever again
+resume his seat on the Bench. Dr. Beattie well knew the long estrangement
+that had separated the father from the son; and although, perhaps, the
+most intimate friend the Judge had in the world, he never had dared to
+interpose a word or drop a hint as to the advisability of reconciliation.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sir William Lendrick was, indeed, a man whom no amount of intimacy could
+render his friends familiar with. He was positively charming to mere
+acquaintanceship,&mdash;his manner was a happy blending of deference with
+a most polished wit Full of bygone experiences and reminiscences of
+interesting people and events, he never overlaid conversation by their
+mention, but made them merely serve to illustrate the present, either by
+contrast or resemblance. All this to the world and society was he; to the
+inmates of his house he was a perfect terror! It was said his first wife
+had died of a broken heart; his second, with a spirit fierce and combative
+as his own, had quarrelled with him so often, so seriously, and so
+hopelessly, that for the last fifteen years of life they had occupied
+separate houses, and only met as acquaintances, accepting and sending
+invitations to each other, and outwardly observing all the usages of a
+refined courtesy.
+</p>
+<p>
+This was the man of whom Dr. Beattie wrote: &ldquo;I cannot presume to say that
+he is <i>more</i> favorably disposed towards you than he has shown himself
+for years, but I would strenuously advise your being here, and
+sufficiently near, so that if a happier disposition should occur, or an
+opportunity arise to bring you once more together, the fortunate moment
+should not be lost. Come up, then, at once, come to my house, where your
+room is ready for you, and where you will neither be molested by visitors
+nor interfered with. Manage too, if you can, to remain here for some
+days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It is no small tribute to the character of filial affection when one can
+say, and say truthfully, that scarcely any severity on a parent's part
+effaces the love that was imbibed in infancy, and that struck root in the
+heart before it could know what unkindness was! Over and over again in
+life have I witnessed this deep devotion. Over and over again have I seen
+a clinging affection to a memory which nothing short of a hallowed tie
+could have made so dear,&mdash;a memory that retained whatever could
+comfort and sustain, and held nothing that recalled shame or sorrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Lendrick went up to town full of such emotions. All the wrong&mdash;it
+was heavy wrong too&mdash;he had suffered was forgotten, all the Injustice
+wiped out. He only asked to be permitted to see his father,&mdash;to nurse
+and watch by him. There was no thought for himself. By reconciliation he
+never meant restoration to his place as heir. Forgiveness and love he
+asked for,&mdash;to be taken back to the heart so long closed against him,
+to hear himself called Tom by that voice he knew so well, and whose
+accents sounded through his dreams.
+</p>
+<p>
+That he was not without a hope of such happiness, might be gathered from
+one circumstance. He had taken up with him two miniatures of his boy and
+girl to show &ldquo;Grandfather,&rdquo; if good fortune should ever offer a fitting
+moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first words which greeted him on reaching his friend's house were:
+&ldquo;Better. A tolerably tranquil night. He can move his hand. The attack was
+paralysis, and his speech is also improved.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And his mind? how is his mind?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Clear as ever it was,&mdash;intensely eager to hear what is said about
+his illness, and insatiable as to the newspaper versions of the attack.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does he speak? Has he spoken of&mdash;his family at all?&rdquo; said he,
+falteringly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only of Lady Lendrick. He desired to see her. He dictated a note to me,
+in terms of very finished courtesy, asking her if, without incurring
+inconvenience, she would favor him with an early call. The whole thing was
+so like himself that I saw at once he was getting better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so you think him better?&rdquo; asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better! Yes&mdash;but not out of danger. I fear as much from his
+irritability as his malady. He will insist on seeing the newspapers, and
+occasionally his eye falls on some paragraph that wounds him. It was but
+yesterday that he read a sort of querulous regret from some writer that
+'the learned Judge had not retired some years ago, and before failing
+health, acting on a very irascible temperament, had rendered him a terror
+alike to the bar and the suitors.' That unfortunate paragraph cost twenty
+leeches and ice to his temples for eight hours after.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cannot these things be kept from him? Surely your authority ought to be
+equal to this!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were I to attempt it, he would refuse to see me. In fact, any utility I
+can contribute depends on my apparent submission to him in everything.
+Almost his first question to me every morning is, 'Well, sir, who is to be
+my successor?' Of course I say that we all look with a sanguine hope to
+see him soon back in his court again. When I said this yesterday, he
+replied, 'I will sit on Wednesday, sir, to hear appeals; there will be
+little occasion for me to speak, and I trust another day or two will see
+the last of this difficulty of utterance. Pemberton, I know, is looking to
+the Attorney-Generalship, and George Hayes thinks he may order his ermine.
+Tell them, however, from me, that the Chief Baron intends to preside in
+his court for many a year to come; that the intellect, such as it is, with
+which Providence endowed him, is still unchanged and unclouded.' This is
+his language,&mdash;this his tone; and you may know how such a spirit jars
+with all our endeavors to promote rest and tranquillity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lendrick walked moodily up and down the room, his head sunk, and his eyes
+downcast. &ldquo;Never to speak of me,&mdash;never ask to see me,&rdquo; muttered he,
+in a voice of intense sadness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I half suspected at one time he was about to do so, and indeed he said,
+'If this attack should baffle you, Beattie, you must not omit to give
+timely warning. There are two or three things to be thought of.' When I
+came away on that morning, I sat down and wrote to you to come up here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A servant entered at this moment and presented a note to the doctor, who
+read it hastily and handed it to Lendrick. It ran thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear Dr. Beattie,&mdash;The Chief Baron has had an unfavorable turn,
+partly brought on by excitement. Lose no time in coming here; and believe
+me, yours sincerely,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;CONSTANTIA LENDRICK.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They've had a quarrel; I knew they would. I did my best to prevent their
+meeting; but I saw he would not go out of the world without a scene. As he
+said last night, 'I mean her to hear my &ldquo;charge.&rdquo; She must listen to my
+charge, Beattie;' and I 'd not be astonished if this charge were to prove
+his own sentence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go to him at once, Beattie; and if it be at all possible, if you can
+compass it in any way, let me see him once again. Take these with you; who
+knows but their bright faces may plead better than words for us?&rdquo; and thus
+saying, he gave him the miniatuies; and overcome with emotion he could not
+control, turned away and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER III. A DIFFICULT PATIENT
+</h2>
+<p>
+As Dr. Beattie drove off with all speed to the Chief Baron's house, which
+lay about three miles from the city, he had time to ponder as he went over
+his late interview. &ldquo;Tom Lendrick,&rdquo; as he still called him to himself, he
+had known as a boy, and ever liked him. He had been a patient, studious,
+gentle-tempered lad, desirous to acquire knowledge, without any of that
+ambition that wants to make the knowledge marketable. To have gained a
+professorship would have appeared to have been the very summit of his
+ambition, and this rather as a quiet retreat to pursue his studies further
+than as a sphere wherein to display his own gifts. Anything more unlike
+that bustling, energetic, daring spirit, his father, would be hard to
+conceive. Throughout his whole career at the bar, and in Parliament, men
+were never quite sure what that brilliant speaker and most indiscreet
+talker would do next. Men secured his advocacy with a half misgiving
+whether they were doing the very best or the very worst for success. Give
+him difficulties to deal with, and he was a giant; let all go smoothly and
+well, and he would hunt up some crotchet,&mdash;some obsolete usage,&mdash;a
+doubtful point, that in its discussion very frequently led to the damage
+of his client's cause, and the defeat of his suit.
+</p>
+<p>
+Display was ever more to him than victory. Let him have a great arena to
+exhibit in, and he was proof against all the difficulties and all the
+casualties of the conflict. Never had such a father a son less the
+inheritor of his temperament and nature; and this same disappointment
+rankling on through life&mdash;a disappointment that embittered all
+intercourse, and went so far as to make him disparage the high abilities
+of his son&mdash;created a gulf between them that Beattie knew could never
+be bridged over. He doubted, too, whether as a doctor he could
+conscientiously introduce a theme so likely to irritate and excite. As he
+pondered, he opened the two miniatures, and looked at them. The young man
+was a fine, manly, daring-looking fellow, with a determined brow and a
+resolute mouth, that recalled his grandfather's face; he was evidently
+well grown and strong, and looked one that, thrown where he might be in
+life, would be likely to assert his own.
+</p>
+<p>
+The girl, wonderfully like him in feature, had a character of subdued
+humor in her eye, and a half-hid laughter in the mouth, which the artist
+had caught up with infinite skill, that took away all the severity of the
+face, and softened its traits to a most attractive beauty. Through her
+rich brown hair there was a sort of golden <i>reflet</i> that imparted
+great brilliancy to the expression of the head, and her large eyes of
+gray-blue were the image of candor and softness, till her laugh gave them
+a sparkle of drollery whose sympathy there was no resisting. She, too, was
+tall and beautifully formed, with that slimness of early youth that only
+escapes being angular, but has in it the charm of suppleness that lends
+grace to every action and every gesture.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish he could see the originals,&rdquo; muttered Beattie. &ldquo;If the old man,
+with his love of beauty, but saw that girl, it would be worth all the
+arguments in Christendom. Is it too late for this? Have we time for the
+experiment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Thus thinking, he drove along the well-wooded approach, and gained the
+large ground-space before the door, whence a carriage was about to drive
+away. &ldquo;Oh, doctor,&rdquo; cried a voice, &ldquo;I'm so glad you 're come; they are
+most impatient for you.&rdquo; It was the Solicitor-General, Mr. Pemberton, who
+now came up to the window of Beattie's carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has become quite unmanageable, will not admit a word of counsel or
+advice, resists all interference, and insists on going out for a drive.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see him at the window,&rdquo; said Beattie; &ldquo;he is beckoning to me;
+good-bye,&rdquo; and he passed on and entered the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the chief drawing-room, in a deep recess of a window, sat the Chief
+Baron, dressed as if to go out, with an overcoat and even his gloves on.
+&ldquo;Come and drive with me, Beattie,&rdquo; cried he, in a feeble but harsh voice.
+&ldquo;If I take my man Leonard, they 'll say it was a keeper. You know that the
+'Post' has it this morning that it is my mind which has given way. They
+say they 've seen me breaking for years back. Good heavens! can it be
+possible, think you, that the mites in a cheese speculate over the nature
+of the man that eats them? You stopped to talk with Pemberton I saw; what
+did he say to you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing particular,&mdash;a mere greeting, I think.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, it was not; he was asking you how many hours there lay between
+him and the Attorney-Generalship. They 've divided the carcase already.
+The lion has to assist at his autopsy,&mdash;rather hard, is n't it? How
+it embitters death, to think of the fellows who are to replace us!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me feel your pulse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't trust it, Beattie; that little dialogue of yours on the grass plot
+has sent it up thirty beats; how many is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Rapid,&mdash;very rapid; you need rest,&mdash;tranquillity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you can't give me either, sir; neither you nor your craft. You are
+the Augurs of modern civilization, and we cling to your predictions just
+as our forefathers did, though we never believe you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is not flattery,&rdquo; said Beattie, with a slight smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man closed his eyes, and passed his hand slowly over his forehead.
+&ldquo;I suppose I was dreaming, Beattie, just before you came up; but I thought
+I saw them all in the Hall, talking and laughing over my death. Burrowes
+was telling how old I must be, because I moved the amendment to Flood in
+the Irish Parliament in '97; and Eames mentioned that I was Curran's
+junior in the great Bagenal record; and old Tysdal set them all in a roar
+by saying he had a vision of me standing at the gate of heaven, and
+instead of going in, as St. Peter invited me, stoutly refusing, and
+declaring I would move for a new trial! How like the rascals!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you think you'd be better in your own room? There's too much light
+and glare here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sure of it. You need quiet, and the absence of all that stimulates
+the action of the brain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do <i>you</i>, sir,&mdash;what does any one,&mdash;know about
+the brain's operations? You doctors have invented a sort of conventional
+cerebral organ, which, like lunar caustic, is decomposed by light; and in
+your vulgar materialism you would make out that what affects <i>your</i>
+brain must act alike upon <i>mine</i>. I tell you, sir, it is darkness&mdash;obscurity,
+physical or moral, it matters not which&mdash;that irritates <i>me</i>,
+just as I feel provoked this moment by this muddling talk of yours about
+brain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet I 'm talking about what my daily life and habits suggest <i>some</i>
+knowledge of,&rdquo; said Beattie, mildly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So you are, sir, and the presumption is all on my side. If you'll kindly
+lend me your arm, I'll go back to my room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Step by step, slowly and painfully, he returned to his chamber, not
+uttering a word as he went.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, this is better, doctor; this half light soothes; it is much
+pleasanter. One more kindness. I wrote to Lady Lendrick this morning to
+come up here. I suppose my combative spirit was high in me, and I wanted a
+round with the gloves,&mdash;or, indeed, without them; at all events, I
+sent the challenge. But <i>now</i>, doctor, I have to own myself a craven.
+I dread the visit Could you manage to interpose? Could you suggest that it
+is by your order I am not permitted to receive her? Could you hint&rdquo;&mdash;here
+he smiled half maliciously&mdash;&ldquo;that you do not think the time has come
+for anodynes,&mdash;eh, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave it to me. I 'll speak to Lady Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's another thing: not that it much matters; but it might perhaps be
+as well to send a few lines to the morning papers, to say the accounts of
+the Chief Baron are more favorable to-day; he passed a tranquil night, and
+so on. Pemberton won't like it, nor Hayes; but it will calm the fears of a
+very attached friend who calls here twice daily. You'd never guess him. He
+is the agent of the Globe Office, where I 'm insured. Ah, doctor, it was a
+bright thought of Philanthropy to establish an industrial enterprise that
+is bound, under heavy recognizances, to be grieved at our death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must not make you talk, Sir William. I must not encourage you to exert
+yourself. I 'll say good-bye, and look in upon you this afternoon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to have a book? Well; be it so. I I 'll sit and muse over the
+Attorney-General and his hopes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have got two very interesting miniatures here. I 'll leave them with
+you; you might like to look at them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miniatures! whose portraits are they?&rdquo; asked the other, hastily, as he
+almost snatched them from his hand. &ldquo;What a miserable juggler! what a
+stale trick this!&rdquo; said he, as he opened the case which contained the
+young man's picture. &ldquo;So, sir, you lend yourself to such attempts as
+these.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't understand you,&rdquo; said Beattie, indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, you understand me perfectly. You would do, by a piece of
+legerdemain, what you have not the courage to attempt openly. These are
+Tom Lendrick's children.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this simpering young lady is her mother's image; pretty, pretty, no
+doubt; and a little&mdash;a shade, perhaps&mdash;of <i>espièglerie</i>
+above what her mother possessed. She was the silliest woman that ever
+turned a fool's head. She had the ineffable folly, sir, to believe she
+could persuade me to forgive my son for having married her; and when I
+handed her to a seat,&mdash;for she was at my knees,&mdash;she fainted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well. It is time to forgive him now. As for her, she is beyond
+forgiveness, or favor, either,&rdquo; said Beattie, with more energy than
+before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is no such trial to a man in a high calling as the temptation it
+offers him to step beyond it. Take care, sir, that with all your
+acknowledged ability, this temptation be not too much for you.&rdquo; The tone
+and manner in which the old judge delivered these words recalled the
+justice-seat. &ldquo;It is an honor to me to have you as my doctor, sir. It
+would be to disparage my own intelligence to accept you as my confessor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A doctor but discharges half his trust when he fails to warn his patient
+against the effects of irritability.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The man who would presume to minister to my temper or to my nature should
+be no longer medico of mine. With what intention, sir, did you bring me
+these miniatures?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That you might see two bright and beautiful faces whose owners are bound
+to you by the strongest ties of blood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you know, sir,&mdash;have you ever heard,&mdash;how their father, by
+his wilfulness, by his folly, by his heartless denial of my right to
+influence him, ruined the fortune that cost my life of struggle and labor
+to create?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The doctor shook his head, and the other continued: &ldquo;Then I will tell it
+to you, sir. It is more than seventeen years to-day when the then Viceroy
+sent for me, and said, 'Baron Lendrick, there is no man, after Plunkett,
+to whom we owe more than to yourself.' I bowed, and said, 'I do not accept
+the qualification, my Lord, even in favor of the distinguished Chancellor.
+I will not believe myself second to any.' I need not relate what ensued;
+the discussion was a long one,&mdash;it was also a warm one; but he came
+back at last to the object of the interview, which was to say that the
+Prime Minister was willing to recommend my name to her Majesty for the
+Peerage,&mdash;an honor, he was pleased to say, the public would see
+conferred upon me with approval; and I refused! Yes, sir, I refused what
+for thirty-odd years had formed the pride and the prize of my existence! I
+refused it, because I would not that her Majesty's favor should descend to
+one so unworthy of it as this fellow, or that his low-born children should
+inherit a high name of my procuring. I refused, sir, and I told the noble
+Marquess my reasons. He tried&mdash;pretty much as you have tried&mdash;to
+bring me to a more forgiving spirit; but I stopped him by saying, 'When I
+hear that your Excellency has invited to your table the scurrilous author
+of the lampoon against you in the &ldquo;Satirist,&rdquo; I will begin to listen to
+the claims that may be urged on the score of forgiveness; not till then.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am wrong&mdash;very wrong&mdash;to let you talk on themes like this; we
+must keep them for calmer moments.&rdquo; Beattie laid his finger on the pulse
+as he spoke, and counted the beats by his watch.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, what says Death? Will he consent to a 'nolle prosequi,' or
+must the cause go on?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not worse; and even that, after all this excitement, is
+something. Good-bye now till evening. No books,&mdash;no newspapers,
+remember. Doze; dream; do anything but excite yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are cruel, sir; you cut off all my enjoyments together. You deny me
+the resources of reading, and you deny me the solace of my wife's
+society.&rdquo; The cutting sarcasm of the last words was shown in the spiteful
+sparkle of his eye, and the insolent curl of his mouth; and as the doctor
+retired, the memory of that wicked look haunted him throughout the day.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IV. HOME DIPLOMACIES
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, it 's done now, Lucy, and it can't be helped,&rdquo; said young Lendrick
+to his sister, as, with an unlighted cigar between his lips, and his hands
+in the pockets of his shooting-jacket, he walked impatiently up and down
+the drawing-room. &ldquo;I 'm sure if I only suspected you were so strongly
+against it, I 'd not have done it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Tom, I'm only against it because I think papa would be so. You
+know we never see any one here when he is at home, and why should we now,
+because he is absent?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just for that reason. It's our only chance, girl.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I don't mean that exactly, but I said it to startle you. No, Lucy;
+but, you see, here's how the matter stands. I have been three whole days
+in their company. On Tuesday the young fellow gave me that book of flies
+and the top-joint of my rod. Yesterday I lunched with them. To-day they
+pressed me so hard to dine with them that I felt almost rude in persisting
+to refuse; and it was as much to avoid the awkwardness of the situation as
+anything else that I asked them up to tea this evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sure, Tom, if it would give you any pleasure&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it gives me pleasure,&rdquo; broke he in; &ldquo;I don't suspect that
+fellows of my age like to live like hermits. And whom do I ever see down
+here? Old Mills and old Tobin, and Larry Day, the dog-breaker. I ask his
+pardon for putting him last, for he is the best of the three. Girls can
+stand this sort of nun's life, but I 'll be hanged if it will do for us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And then, Tom,&rdquo; resumed she, in the same tone, &ldquo;remember they are both
+perfect strangers. I doubt if you even know their names.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I do,&mdash;the old fellow is Sir Brook something or other. It 's
+not Fogey, but it begins like it; and the other is called Trafford,&mdash;Lionel,
+I think, is his Christian name. A glorious fellow, too; was in the 9th
+Lancers and in the blues, and is now here with the fifty&mdash;th because
+he went it too hard in the cavalry. He had a horse for the Derby two years
+ago.&rdquo; The tone of proud triumph in which he made this announcement seemed
+to say, Now, all discussion about him may cease. &ldquo;Not but,&rdquo; added he,
+after a pause, &ldquo;you might like the old fellow best; he has such a world of
+stories, and he draws so beautifully. The whole time we were in the boat
+he was sketching something; and he has a book full of odds and ends; a
+tea-party in China, quail-shooting in Java, a wedding in Candia,&mdash;I
+can't tell what more; but he 's to bring them up here with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was thinking, Tom, that it might be as well if you 'd go down and ask
+Dr. Mills to come to tea. It would take off some of the awkwardness of our
+receiving two strangers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But they 're not strangers, Lucy; not a bit of it. I call him Trafford,
+and he calls me Lendrick; and the old cove is the most familiar old fellow
+I ever met.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you said anything to Nicholas yet?&rdquo; asked she, in some eagerness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; and that's exactly what I want you to do for me. That old bear
+bullies us all, so that I can't trust myself to speak to him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, don't go away, and I'll send for him now;&rdquo; and she rang the bell as
+she spoke. A smart-looking lad answered the summons, to whom she said,
+&ldquo;Tell Nicholas I want him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take my advice, Lucy, and merely say there are two gentlemen coming to
+tea this evening; don't let the old villain think you are consulting him
+about it, or asking his advice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must do it my own way,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;only don't interrupt. Don't meddle,&mdash;mind
+that, Tom.&rdquo; The door opened, and a very short, thick-set old man, dressed
+in a black coat and waistcoat, and drab breeches and white stockings, with
+large shoe-buckles in his shoes, entered. His face was large and red, the
+mouth immensely wide, and the eyes far set from each other, his low
+forehead being shadowed by a wig of coarse red hair, which moved when he
+spoke, and seemed almost to possess a sort of independent vitality.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had been reading when he was summoned, and his spectacles had been
+pushed up over his forehead, while he still held the county paper in his
+hand,&mdash;a sort of proud protest against being disturbed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You heard that Miss Lucy sent for you?&rdquo; said Tom Lendrick, haughtily, as
+his eye fell upon the newspaper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did,&rdquo; was the curt answer, as the old fellow, with a nervous shake of
+the head, seemed to announce that he was ready for battle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What I wanted, Nicholas, was this,&rdquo; interposed the girl, in a voice of
+very winning sweetness; &ldquo;Mr. Tom has invited two gentlemen this evening to
+tea.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To tay!&rdquo; cried Nicholas, as if the fact staggered all credulity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, to tea; and I was thinking if you would go down to the town and get
+some biscuits, or a sponge-cake, perhaps&mdash;whatever, indeed, you
+thought best; and also beg Dr. Mills to step in, saying that as papa was
+away&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That you was going to give a ball?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No. Not exactly that, Nicholas,&rdquo; said she, smiling; &ldquo;but that two friends
+of my brother's&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where did he meet his friends?&rdquo; cried he, with a marked emphasis on
+the &ldquo;friends.&rdquo; &ldquo;Two strangers. God knows who or what! Poachers as like as
+anything else. The ould one might be worse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Enough of this,&rdquo; said Tom, sternly. &ldquo;Are you the master here? Go off,
+sir, and do what Miss Lucy has ordered you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will not,&mdash;the devil a step,&rdquo; said the old man, who now thrust the
+paper into a capacious pocket, and struck each hand on a hip. &ldquo;Is it when
+the 'Jidge' is dying, when the newpapers has a column of the names that 's
+calling to ask after him, you are to be carousing and feastin' here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear Nicholas, there's no question of feasting. It is simply a cup of tea
+we mean to give; sorely there's no carousing in that. And as to grandpapa,
+papa says that he was certainly better yesterday, and Dr. Beattie has
+hopes now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have n't, then, and I know him better than Dr. Beattie.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a pity they have n't sent for you for the consultation!&rdquo; said Tom,
+ironically.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And look here, Nicholas,&rdquo; said Lucy, drawing the old man towards the door
+of a small room that led off the drawing-room, &ldquo;we could have tea here; it
+will look less formal, and give less trouble; and Mears could wait,&mdash;he
+does it very well; and you need n't be put out at all.&rdquo; These last words
+fell to a whisper; but he was beyond reserve, beyond flattery. The last
+speech of her brother still rankled in his memory, and all that fell upon
+his ear since that fell unheeded.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was with your grandfather, Master Tom,&rdquo; said the old man, slowly,
+&ldquo;twenty-one years before you were born! I carried his bag down to Court
+the day he defended Neal O' Gorman for high treason, and I was with him
+the morning he shot Luke Dillon at Castle Knock; and this I 'll say and
+stand to, there 's not a man in Ireland, high or low, knows the Chief
+Baron better than myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It must be a great comfort to you both,&rdquo; said Tom; but his sister had
+laid her hand on his mouth and made the words unintelligible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll say to Mr. Mills, Nicholas,&rdquo; said she, in her most coaxing way,
+&ldquo;that I did not write, because I preferred sending my message by <i>you</i>,
+who could explain why I particularly wanted him this evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll go, Miss Lucy, resarving the point, as they say in the law,&mdash;resarving
+the point! because I don't give in that what you're doin' is right; and
+when the master comes home, I'm not goin' to defend it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We must bear up under that calamity as well as we can,&rdquo; said the young
+man, insolently; but Nicholas never looked towards or seemed to hear him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A barn-a-brack is better than a spongecake, because if there 's some of
+it left it does n't get stale, and one-and-six-pence will be enough; and I
+suppose you don't need a lamp?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Nicholas, I must say, I think it would be better; and two candles
+on the small table, and two on the piano.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why don't you mentiou a fiddler?&rdquo; said he, bitterly. &ldquo;If it's a ball,
+there ought to be music?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Unable to control himself longer, young Lendrick wrenched open the
+sash-door, and walked out into the lawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The devil such a family for temper from this to Bantry!&rdquo; said Nicholas;
+&ldquo;and here's the company comin' already, or I 'm mistaken. There 's a boat
+makin' for the landing-place with two men in the stern.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy implored him once more to lose no time on his errand, and hastened
+away to make some change in her dress to receive the strangers. Meanwhile
+Tom, having seen the boat, walked down to the shore to meet his friends.
+</p>
+<p>
+Both Sir Brook and Trafford were enthusiastic in their praises of the
+spot. Its natural beauty was indeed great, but taste and culture had
+rendered it a marvel of elegance and refinement. Not merely were the trees
+grouped with reference to foliage and tint, but the flower-beds were so
+arranged that the laws of color should be respected, and thus these plats
+of perfume were not less luxuriously rich in odor than they were
+captivating as pictures.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is all the governor's own doing,&rdquo; said Tom, proudly, &ldquo;and he is
+continually changing the disposition of the plants. He says variety is a
+law of the natural world, and it is our duty to imitate it. Here comes my
+sister, gentlemen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As though set in a beautiful frame, the lovely girl stood for an instant
+in the porch, where drooping honeysuckles and the tangled branches of a
+vine hung around her, and then came courteously to meet and welcome them.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am in ecstasy with all I see here, Miss Lendrick,&rdquo; said Sir Brook. &ldquo;Old
+traveller that I am, I scarcely know where I have ever seen such a
+combination of beauty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa will be delighted to hear this,&rdquo; said she, with a pleasant smile;
+&ldquo;it is the flattery he loves best.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm always saying we could keep up a salmon-weir on the river for a
+tithe of what these carnations and primroses cost us,&rdquo; said Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, sir, if you had been in Eden you 'd have made it a market garden,&rdquo;
+ said the old man.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the governor was a Duke of Devonshire, all these-caprices might be
+pardonable; but my theory is, roast-beef before roses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While young Lendrick attached himself to Trafford, and took him here and
+there to show him the grounds, Sir Brook walked beside Lucy, who did the
+honors of the place with a most charming courtesy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am almost ashamed, sir,&rdquo; said she, as they turned towards the house,
+&ldquo;to have asked you to see such humble objects as these to which we attach
+value, for my brother tells me you are a great traveller; but it is just
+possible you have met in your journeys others who, like us, lived so much
+out of the world that they fancied they had the prettiest spot in it for
+their own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must not ask me what I think of all I have seen: here, Miss Lendrick,
+till my enthusiasm calms down;&rdquo; and his look of admiration, so palpably
+addressed to herself, sent a flush to her cheek. &ldquo;A man's belongings are
+his history,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, quickly turning the conversation into an
+easier channel: &ldquo;show me his study, his stable, his garden; let me see his
+hat, his cane, the volume he thrusts into his pocket, and I 'll make you
+an indifferent good guess about his daily doings.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me of papa's. Come here, Tom,&rdquo; cried she, as the two young men came
+towards her, &ldquo;and listen to a bit of divination.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay, I never promised a lecture. I offered a confidence,&rdquo; said he, in a
+half whisper; but she went on: &ldquo;Sir Brook says that he reads people pretty
+much as Cuvier pronounced on a mastodon, by some small minute detail that
+pertained to them. Here's Tom's cigar-case,&rdquo; said she, taking it from his
+pocket; &ldquo;what do you infer from that, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That he smokes the most execrable tobacco.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But can you say why?&rdquo; asked Tom, with a sly twinkle of his eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Probably for the same reason I do myself,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, producing a
+very cheap cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, that's a veritable Cuban compared to one of mine,&rdquo; cried Tom; &ldquo;and by
+way of making my future life miserable, here has been Mr. Trafford filling
+my pocket with real havannahs, giving me a taste for luxuries I ought
+never to have known of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Know everything, sir, go everywhere, see all that the world can show you;
+the wider a man's experiences the larger his nature and the more open his
+heart,&rdquo; said Foss-brooke, boldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like the theory,&rdquo; said Trafford to Miss Lendrick; &ldquo;do you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Brook never meant it for women, I fancy,&rdquo; said she, in a low tone;
+but the old man overheard her, and said: &ldquo;You are right. The guide ought
+to know every part of the mountain; the traveller need only know the
+path.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here comes a guide who is satisfied with very short excursions,&rdquo; cried
+Tom, laughing; &ldquo;this is our parson, Dr. Mills.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The little, mellow-looking, well-cared-for person who now joined them was
+a perfect type of old-bachelorhood, in its aspect of not unpleasant
+selfishness. Everything about him was neat, orderly, and appropriate; and
+though you saw at a glance it was all for himself and his own enjoyment it
+was provided, his good manners and courtesy were ever ready to extend its
+benefits to others; and a certain genial look he wore, and a manner that
+nature had gifted him with, did him right good service in life, and made
+him pass for &ldquo;an excellent fellow, though not much of a parson.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He was of use now, if only that by his presence Lucy felt more at ease,
+not to say that his violoncello, which always remained at the Nest, made a
+pleasant accompaniment when she played, and that he sang with much taste
+some of those lyrics which arc as much linked to Ireland by poetry as by
+music.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish he was our chaplain,&mdash;by Jove I do!&rdquo; whispered Trafford to
+Lendrick; &ldquo;he's the jolliest fellow of his cloth I have ever met.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And such a cook,&rdquo; muttered the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A cook!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, a cook. I 'll make him ask us to dinner, and you 'll tell me if you
+ever ate fish as he gives it, or tasted macaroni as dressed by him. I have
+a salmon for you, doctor, a ten-pound fish. I wish it were bigger! but it
+is in splendid order.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you set it?&rdquo; asked the parson, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does he mean by set it?&rdquo; whispered Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Setting means plunging it in very hot water soon after killing it, to
+preserve and harden the 'curd.' Yes; and I took your hint about the
+arbutus leaves, too, doctor. I covered it all up with them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a teachable youth, and shall be rewarded. Come and eat him
+to-morrow. Dare I hope that these gentlemen are disengaged, and will honor
+my poor parsonage? Will you favor me with your company at five o'clock,
+sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook bowed, and accepted the invitation with pleasure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only too happy,&rdquo; said Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy, my dear, you must be one of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I could not; it is impossible, doctor,&mdash;you know it is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing of the kind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa away,&mdash;not to speak of his never encouraging us to leave home,&rdquo;
+ muttered she, in a whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I accept no excuses, Lucy; such a rare opportunity may not occur to me in
+a hurry. Mrs. Brennan, my housekeeper, will be so proud to see you, that I
+'m not sure she 'll not treat these gentlemen to her brandy peaches,&mdash;a
+delicacy, I feel bound to say, she has never conceded to any one less than
+the bishop of the diocese.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't ask me, doctor. I know that papa&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But he broke in, saying,&mdash;&ldquo;'You know I 'm your priest, and your
+conscience is mine;' and besides, I really do want to see how the
+parsonage will look with a lady at the top of the table: who knows what it
+may lead to?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Lucy, that's the nearest thing to a proposal I 've heard for some
+time. You really must go now,&rdquo; said Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa will not like it,&rdquo; whispered she in his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then he'll have to settle the matter with me, Lucy,&rdquo; said the doctor,
+&ldquo;for it was I who overruled you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't look to me, Miss Lendrick, to sustain you in your refusal,&rdquo; said
+Sir Brook, as the young girl turned towards him. &ldquo;I have the strongest
+interest in seeing the doctor successful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If Trafford said nothing, the glance he gave her more than backed the old
+man's speech, and she turned away half vexed, half pleased, puzzled how to
+act, and flattered at the same time by an amount of attention so new to
+her and so strange. Still she could not bring herself to promise she would
+go, and wished them all good-night at last, without a pledge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course she will,&rdquo; muttered Tom in the doctor's ear. &ldquo;She's afraid of
+the governor; but I know he'll not be displeased,&mdash;you may reckon on
+her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER V. THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND
+</h2>
+<p>
+From the day that Sir Brook made the acquaintance of Tom Lendrick and his
+sister, he determined he would &ldquo;pitch his tent,&rdquo; as he called it, for some
+time at Killaloe. They had, so to say, captivated the old man. The young
+fellow, by his frank, open, manly nature, his ardent love of sport in
+every shape, his invariable good-humor, and more than all these, by the
+unaffected simplicity of his character, had strongly interested him; while
+Lucy had made a far deeper impression by her gentleness, her refinement,
+an elegance in deportment that no teaching ever gives, and, along with
+these, a mind stored with thought and reflectiveness. Let us, however, be
+just to each, and own that her beauty and the marvellous fascination of
+her smile gave her, even in that old man's eyes, an irresistible charm. It
+was a very long bygone, but he had once been in love, and the faint
+flicker of the memory had yet survived in his heart. It was just as likely
+Lucy bore no resemblance to her he had loved, but he fancied she did,&mdash;he
+imagined that she was her very image. That was the smile, the glance, the
+tone, the gesture which once had set his heart a-throbbing, and the
+illusion threw around her an immense fascination.
+</p>
+<p>
+She liked him too. Through all the strange incongruities of his character,
+his restless love of adventure and excitement, there ran a gentle liking
+for quiet pleasures. He loved scenery passionately, and with a painter's
+taste for color and form; he loved poetry, which he read with a wondrous
+charm of voice and intonation. Nor was it without its peculiar power, this
+homage of an old, old man, who rendered her the attentive service of a
+devoted admirer.
+</p>
+<p>
+There is very subtle flattery in the obsequious devotion of age to youth.
+It is, at least, an honest worship, an unselfish offering, and in this way
+the object of it may well feel proud of its tribute.
+</p>
+<p>
+From the vicar, Dr. Mills, Fossbrooke had learned the chief events of Dr.
+Lendrick's history, of his estrangement from his father, his fastidious
+retirement from the world, and, last of all, his narrow fortune,
+apparently now growing narrower, since within the last year he had
+withdrawn his son from the University on the score of its expense.
+</p>
+<p>
+A gold-medallist and a scholar, Dr. Lendrick would have eagerly coveted
+such honors for his son. It was, probably, the one triumph in life he
+would have set most store by, but Tom was one not made for collegiate
+successes. He had abilities, but they were not teachable qualities; he
+could pick up a certain amount of almost anything,&mdash;he could learn
+nothing. He could carry away from a chance conversation an amount of
+knowledge it had cost the talkers years to acquire, and yet set him down
+regularly to work book-fashion, and either from want of energy, or
+concentration, or of that strong will which masters difficulties just as a
+full current carries all before it&mdash;whichever of these was his
+defect,&mdash;he arose from his task wearied, worn, but unadvanced.
+</p>
+<p>
+When, therefore, his father would speak, as he sometimes did, in
+confidence to the vicar, in a tone of depression about Tom's deficiencies,
+the honest parson would feel perfectly lost in amazement at what he meant.
+To his eyes Tom Lendrick was a wonder, a prodigy. There was not a theme he
+could not talk on, and talk well too. &ldquo;It was but the other day he told
+the chief engineer of the Shannon Company more about the geological
+formation of the river-basin than all his staff knew. Ay, and what's
+stranger,&rdquo; added the vicar, &ldquo;he understands the whole Colenso controversy
+better than I do myself.&rdquo; It is just possible that in the last panegyric
+there was nothing of exaggeration or excess. &ldquo;And with all that, sir, his
+father goes on brooding over his neglected education, and foreshadowing
+the worst results from his ignorance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is a fine fellow,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, &ldquo;but not to be compared with his
+sister.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not for mere looks, perhaps, nor for a graceful manner, and a winning
+address; but who would think of ranking Lucy's abilities with her
+brother's?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not I,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, boldly, &ldquo;for I place hers far and away above
+them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A sly twinkle of the parson's eye showed to what class of advantages he
+ascribed the other's preference; but he said no more, and the controversy
+ended.
+</p>
+<p>
+Every morning found Sir Brook at the &ldquo;Swan's Nest.&rdquo; He was fond of
+gardening, and had consummate taste in laying out ground, so that many
+pleasant surprises had been prepared for Dr. Lendrick's return. He drew,
+too, with great skill, and Lucy made considerable progress under his
+teaching; and as they grew more intimate, and she was not ashamed of the
+confession that she delighted in the Georgics of Virgil, they read whole
+hours together of those picturesque descriptions of rural life and its
+occupations, which are as true to nature at this hour as on the day they
+were written.
+</p>
+<p>
+Perhaps the old man fancied that it was he who had suggested this intense
+appreciation of the poet. It is just possible that the young girl believed
+that she had reclaimed a wild, erratic, eccentric nature, and brought him
+back ta the love of simple pleasures and a purer source of enjoyment.
+Whichever way the truth inclined, each was happy, each contented. And how
+fond are we all, of every age, of playing the missionary, of setting off
+into the savage districts of our neighbors' natures and combating their
+false idols, their superstitions and strange rites! The least adventurous
+and the least imaginative have these little outbursts of conversion, and
+all are more or less propagandists.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was one morning, a bright and glorious one too, that, while Tom and
+Lucy were yet at breakfast, Sir Brook arrived and entered the
+breakfast-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a day for a gray hackle, in that dark pool under the larch-trees!&rdquo;
+ cried Tom, as he saw him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a day for a long walk to Mount Laurel!&rdquo; said Lucy. &ldquo;You said,
+t'other morning, you wanted cloud effects on the upper lake. I 'll show
+you splendid ones to-day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll promise you a full basket before four o'clock,&rdquo; broke in Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll promise you a full sketch-book,&rdquo; said Lucy, with one of her
+sweetest smiles.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I 'm going to refuse both; for I have a plan of my own, and a plan
+not to be gainsaid.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it, You want us to go to work on that fish-pond. I'm certain it's
+that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Tom; it's the catalogue,&mdash;the weary catalogue that he told me,
+as a punishment for not being able to find Machiavelli's comedies last
+week, he 'd make me sit down to on the first lovely morning that came.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better that than those dreary Georgics which remind one of school, and
+the third form. But what 's your plan, Sir Brook? We have thought of all
+the projects that can terrify us, and you look as if it ought to be a
+terror.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine is a plan for pleasure, and pleasure only; so pack up at once and
+get ready. Trafford arrived this morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is he? I am so glad! Where's Trafford?&rdquo; cried Tom, delighted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have despatched him with the vicar and two well-filled hampers to Holy
+Island, where I mean that we shall all picnic. There 's my plan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And a jolly plan too! I adhere unconditionally.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you, Lucy, what do you say?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, as the young girl stood
+with a look of some indecision and embarrassment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't say that it's not a very pleasant project, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what, Lucy? Where 's the but?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She whispered a few words in his ear, and he cried out: &ldquo;Is n't this too
+bad? She tells me Nicholas does not like all this gayety; that Nicholas
+disapproves of our mode of life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Tom; I only said Nicholas thinks that papa would not like it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn't we see Nicholas? Couldn't we have a commission to examine
+Nicholas?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, laughingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll not be on it, that 's all I know; for I should finish by chucking
+the witness into the Shannon. Come along, Lucy; don't let us lose this
+glorious morning. I 'll get some lines and hooks together. Be sure you 're
+ready when I come back.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As the door closed after him, Sir Brook drew near to Lucy, where she stood
+in an attitude of doubt and hesitation. &ldquo;I mustn't risk your good opinion
+of me rashly. If you really dislike this excursion, I will give it up,&rdquo;
+ said he, in a low, gentle voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dislike it? No; far from it. I suspect I would enjoy it more than any of
+you. My reluctance was simply on the ground that all this is so unlike the
+life we have been leading hitherto. Papa will surely disapprove of it. Oh,
+there comes Nicholas with a letter!&rdquo; cried she, opening the sash-window.
+&ldquo;Give it to me; it is from papa.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She broke the seal hurriedly, and ran rapidly over the lines. &ldquo;Oh, yes! I
+will go now, and go with delight too. It is full of good news. He is to
+see grandpapa, if not to-morrow, the day after. He hopes all will be well.
+Papa knows your name, Sir Brook. He says, 'Ask your friend Sir Brook if he
+be any relative of a Sir Brook Foss-brooke who rescued Captain Langton
+some forty years ago from a Neapolitan prison. The print-shops were filled
+with his likeness when I was a boy.' Was he one of your family?&rdquo; inquired
+she, looking at him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am the man,&rdquo; said he, calmly and coldly. &ldquo;Langton was sentenced to the
+galleys for life for having struck the Count d'Aconi across the face with
+his glove; and the Count was nephew to the King. They had him at Capri
+working in chains, and I landed with my yacht's crew and liberated him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a daring thing to do!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not so daring as you fancy. The guard was surprised, and fled. It was
+only when reinforced that they showed fight. Our toughest enemies were the
+galley-slaves, who, when they discovered that we never meant to liberate
+them, attacked us with stones. This scar on my temple is a memorial of the
+affair.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Langton, what became of him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is now Lord Burrowfield. He gave me two fingers to shake the last time
+I met him at the Travellers'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, don't say that! Oh, don't tell me of such ingratitude!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear child, people usually regard gratitude as a debt which, once
+acknowledged, is acquitted; and perhaps they are right. It makes all
+intercourse freer and less trammelled.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here comes Tom. May I tell him this story, or will you tell him
+yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not either, my dear Lucy. Your brother's blood is over-hot as it is. Let
+him not have any promptings to such exploits as these.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But may I tell papa?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as well not, Lucy. There were scores of wild things attributed to me
+in those days. He may possibly remember some of them, and begin to suspect
+that his daughter might be in better company.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How was it that you never told me of this exploit?&rdquo; asked she, looking,
+not without admiration, at the hard stern features before her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear child, egotism is the besetting sin of old people, and even the
+most cautious lapse into it occasionally. Set me once a-talking of myself,
+all my prudence, all my reserve vanishes; so that, as a measure of safety
+for my friends and myself too, I avoid the theme when I can. There! Tom is
+beckoning to us. Let us go to him at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Holy Island, or Inishcaltra, to give it its Irish name, is a wild spot,
+with little remarkable about it, save the ruins of seven churches and a
+curious well of fabulous depth. It was, however, a favorite spot with the
+vicar, whose taste in localities was somehow always associated with some
+feature of festivity, the great merit of the present spot being that you
+could dine without any molestation from beggars. In such estimation,
+indeed, did he hold the class, that he seriously believed their craving
+importunity to be one of the chief reasons of dyspepsia, and was
+profoundly convinced that the presence of Lazarus at his gate
+counterbalanced many of the goods which fortune had bestowed upon Dives.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here we dine in real comfort,&rdquo; said he, as he seated himself under the
+shelter of an ivy-covered wall, with a wide reach of the lake at his feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I come back from California with that million or two,&rdquo; said Tom, &ldquo;I
+'ll build a cottage here, where we can all come and dine continually.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us keep the anniversary of the present day as a sort of foundation
+era,&rdquo; said the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like everything that promises pleasure,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, &ldquo;but I like to
+stipulate that we do not draw too long a bill on Fortune. Think how long a
+year is. This time twelvemonth, for example, you, my dear doctor, may be a
+bishop, and not over inclined to these harmless levities. Tom there will
+be, as he hints, gold-crushing, at the end of the earth. Trafford, not
+improbably, ruling some rajah's kingdom in the far East. Of your destiny,
+fair Lucy, brightest of all, it is not for me to speak. Of my own it is
+not worth speaking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nolo episcopari,&rdquo; said the vicar; &ldquo;pass me the Madeira.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You forget, perhaps, that is the phrase for accepting the mitre,&rdquo; said
+Sir Brook, laughing. &ldquo;Bishops, like belles, say 'No' when they mean
+'Yes.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who told you that belles did?&rdquo; broke in Lucy. &ldquo;I am in a sad minority
+here, but I stand up for my sex.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I repeat a popular prejudice, fair lady.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Lucy will not have it that belles are as illogical as bishops? I see
+I was right in refusing the bench,&rdquo; said the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What bright boon of Fortune is Trafford meditating the rejection of?&rdquo;
+ said Sir Brook; and the young fellow's cheek grew crimson as he tried to
+laugh off the reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who made this salad?&rdquo; cried Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was I; who dares to question it?&rdquo; said Lucy. &ldquo;The doctor has helped
+himself twice to it, and that test I take to be a certificate to
+character.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I used to have some skill in dressing a salad, but I have foregone the
+practice for many a day; my culinary gift got me sent out of Austria in
+twenty-four hours. Oh, it 's nothing that deserves the name of a story,&rdquo;
+ said Sir Brook, as the others looked at him for an explanation. &ldquo;It was as
+long ago as the year 1806. Sir Robert Adair had been our minister at
+Vienna, when, a rupture taking place between the two Governments, he was
+recalled. He did not, however, return to England, but continued to live as
+a private citizen at Vienna. Strangely enough, from the moment that our
+embassy ceased to be recognized by the Government, our countrymen became
+objects of especial civility. I myself, amongst the rest, was the <i>bien-venu</i>
+in some of the great houses, and even invited by Count Cobourg Cohari to
+those <i>déjeuners</i> which he gave with such splendor at Maria Hülfe.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At one of these, as a dish of salad was handed round, instead of eating
+it, like the others, I proceeded to make a very complicated dressing for
+it on my plate, calling for various condiments, and seasoning my mess in a
+most refined and ingenious manner. No sooner had I given the finishing
+touch to my great achievement than the Grand-Duchess Sophia, who it seems
+had watched the whole performance, sent a servant round to beg that I
+would send her my plate. She accompanied the request with a little bow and
+a smile whose charm I can still recall. Whatever the reason, before I
+awoke next morning, an agent of the police entered my room and informed me
+my passports were made out for Dresden, and that his orders were to give
+me the pleasure of his society till I crossed the frontier. There was no
+minister, no envoy to appeal to, and nothing left but to comply. They said
+'Go,' and I went.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all for a dish of salad!&rdquo; cried the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All for the bright eyes of an archduchess, rather,&rdquo; broke in Lucy,
+laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man's grateful smile at the compliment to his gallantry showed
+how, even in a heart so world-worn, the vanity of youth survived.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare it was very hard,&rdquo; said Tom,&mdash;&ldquo;precious hard.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you mean to give up the salad, so think I too,&rdquo; cried the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll be shot if I 'd have gone,&rdquo; broke in Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'd probably have been shot if you had stayed,&rdquo; replied Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are things we submit to in life, not because the penalty of
+resistance affrights us, but because we half acquiesce in their justice.
+You, for instance, Trafford, are well pleased to be here on leave, and
+enjoy yourself, as I take it, considerably; and yet the call of duty&mdash;some
+very commonplace duty, perhaps&mdash;would make you return tomorrow in all
+haste.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it would,&rdquo; said Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not so sure of it,&rdquo; murmured Trafford, sullenly; &ldquo;I 'd rather go
+into close arrest for a week than I 'd lose this day here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bravo! here's your health, Lionel,&rdquo; cried Tom. &ldquo;I do like to hear a
+fellow say he is willing to pay the cost of what pleases him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must preach wholesome doctrine, my young friends,&rdquo; broke in the vicar.
+&ldquo;Now that we have dined well, I would like to say aword on abstinence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean to take no coffee, doctor, then?&rdquo; asked Lucy, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I do, my sweet child,&mdash;coffee and a pipe, too, for I know you
+are tolerant of tobacco.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope she is,&rdquo; said Tom, &ldquo;or she 'd have a poor time of it in the house
+with me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll put no coercion upon my tastes on this occasion, for I 'll take a
+stroll through the ruins, and leave you to your wine,&rdquo; said she, rising.
+</p>
+<p>
+They protested, in a mass, against her going. &ldquo;We cannot lock the door,
+Lucy, <i>de facto</i>,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, &ldquo;but we do it figuratively.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And in that case I make my escape by the window,&rdquo; said she, springing
+through an old lancet-shaped orifice in the Abbey wall.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There goes down the sun and leaves us but a gray twilight,&rdquo; said Sir
+Brook, mournfully, as he looked after her. &ldquo;If there were only enough
+beauty on earth, I verily believe we might dispense with parsons.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Push me over the bird's-eye, and let me nourish myself till your
+millennium comes,&rdquo; said the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a charming girl she is! her very beauty fades away before the
+graceful attraction of her manner!&rdquo; whispered Sir Brook to the doctor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, if you but knew her as I do! If you but knew how, sacrificing all the
+springtime of her bright youth, she has never had a thought save to make
+herself the companion of her poor father,&mdash;a sad, depressed,
+sorrow-struck man, only rescued from despair by that companionship! I tell
+you, sir, there is more courage in submitting one's self to the nature of
+another than in facing a battery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook grasped the parson's hand and shook it cordially. The action
+spoke more than any words. &ldquo;And the brother, doctor,&mdash;what say you of
+the brother?&rdquo; whispered he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One of those that the old adage says 'either makes a spoon or spoils the
+horn.' That 's Master Tom there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Low as the words were uttered, they caught the sharp ears of him they
+spoke of, and with a laughing eye he cried out, &ldquo;What 's that evil
+prediction you 're uttering about me, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am just telling Sir Brook here that it's pure head or tail how you turn
+out. There's stuff in you to make a hero, but it's just as likely you 'll
+stop short at a highwayman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I could guess which of the two would best suit the age we live
+in,&rdquo; said Tom, gayly. &ldquo;Are we to have another bottle of that Madeira, for
+I suspect I see the doctor putting up the corkscrew?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are to have no more wine than what's before you till you land me at
+the quay of Killaloe. When temperance means safety as well as forbearance,
+it's one of the first of virtues.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The vicar, indeed, soon grew impatient to depart. Fine as the evening was
+then, it might change. There was a feeling, too, not of damp, but
+chilliness; at all events, he was averse to being on the water late; and
+as he was the great promoter of these little convivial gatherings, his
+word was law.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="062 (96K)" src="images/062.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+It is not easy to explain how it happened that Trafford sat beside Lucy.
+Perhaps the trim of the boat required it; certainly, however, nothing
+required that the vicar, who sat next Lucy on the other side, should fall
+fast asleep almost as soon as he set foot on board. Meanwhile Sir Brook
+and Tom had engaged in an animated discussion as to the possibility of
+settling in Ireland as a man settles in some lone island in the Pacific,
+teaching the natives a few of the needs of civilization and picking up a
+few convenient ways of theirs in turn, Sir Brook warming with the theme so
+far as to exclaim at last, &ldquo;If I only had a few of those thousands left me
+which I lost, squandered, or gave away, I 'd try the scheme, and you
+should be my lieutenant, Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was one of those projects, very pleasant in their way, where men can
+mingle the serious with the ludicrous, where actual wisdom may go hand in
+hand with downright absurdity; and so did they both understand it,
+mingling, the very sagest reflections with projects the wildest and most
+eccentric. Their life, as they sketched it, was to be almost savage in
+freedom, untrammelled by all the tiresome conventionalities of the outer
+world, and at the same time offering such an example of contentedness and
+comfort as to shame the condition of all without the Pale.
+</p>
+<p>
+They agreed that the vicar must join them; he should be their Bishop. He
+might grumble a little at first about the want of hot plates or
+finger-glasses, but he would soon fall into their ways, and some native
+squaw would console him for the loss of Mrs. Brennan's housekeeping gifts.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Trafford and Lucy all this time,&mdash;what did they talk of? Did
+they, too, imagine a future and plan out a life-road in company? Far too
+timid for that,&mdash;they lingered over the past, each asking some trait
+of the other's childhood, eager to hear any little incident which might
+mark character or indicate temper. And at last they came down to the
+present,&mdash;to the very hour they lived in, and laughingly wondered at
+the intimacy that had grown up between them. &ldquo;Only twelve days to-morrow
+since we first met,&rdquo; said Lucy, and her color rose as she said it, &ldquo;and
+here we are talking away as if&mdash;as if&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As if what?&rdquo; cried he, only by an effort suppressing her name as it rose
+to his lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As if we knew each other for years. To me it seems the strangest thing in
+the world,&mdash;I who have never had friendships or companionships. To
+you, I have no doubt, it is common enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But it is not,&rdquo; cried he, eagerly. &ldquo;Such fortune never befell me before.
+I have gone a good deal into life,&mdash;seen scores of people in
+country-houses and the like; but I never met any one before I could speak
+to of myself,&mdash;I mean, that I had courage to tell&mdash;not that,
+exactly&mdash;but that I wanted them to know I was n't so bad a fellow&mdash;so
+reckless or so heartless as people thought me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is that the character you bear?&rdquo; said she, with, though not visible
+to him, a faint smile on her mouth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think it's what my family would say of me,&mdash;I mean now, for once
+on a time I was a favorite at home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why are you not still?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because I was extravagant; because I went into debt; because I got very
+easily into scrapes, and very badly out of them,&mdash;not dishonorably,
+mind; the scrapes I speak of were money troubles, and they brought me into
+collision with my governor. That was how it came about I was sent over
+here. They meant as a punishment what has turned out the greatest
+happiness of my life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How cold the water is!&rdquo; said Lucy, as, taking off her glove, she suffered
+her hand to dip in the water beside the boat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Deliciously cold,&rdquo; said he, as, plunging in his hand, he managed, as
+though by accident, to touch hers. She drew it rapidly away, however, and
+then, to prevent the conversation returning to its former channel, said
+aloud: &ldquo;What <i>are</i> you laughing over so heartily, Sir Brook? You and
+Tom appear to have fallen upon a mine of drollery. Do share it with us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall hear it all one of these days, Lucy. Jog the doctor's arm now
+and wake him up, for I see the lights at the boat-house, and we shall soon
+be on shore.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And sorry I am for it,&rdquo; muttered Trafford, in a whisper; &ldquo;I wish this
+night could be drawn out to years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VI. WAITING ON
+</h2>
+<p>
+On the sixth day after Dr. Lendrick's arrival in Dublin&mdash;a fruitless
+journey so far as any hope of reconciliation was concerned&mdash;he
+resolved to return home. His friend Beattie, however, induced him to delay
+his departure to the-next day, clinging to some small hope from a few
+words-that had dropped from Sir William on that same morning. &ldquo;Let me see
+you to-night, doctor; I have a note to show you which I could not to-day
+with all these people about me.&rdquo; Now, the people in question resolved
+themselves into one person, Lady Lendrick, who indeed bustled into the
+room and out of it, slammed doors and upset chairs in a fashion that might
+well have excused the exaggeration that converted her into a noun of
+multitude. A very warm altercation had occurred, too, in the doctor's
+presence with reference to some letter from India, which Lady Lendrick was
+urging Sir William to reply to, but which he firmly declared he would not
+answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I am to treat a man subject to such attacks of temper, so easily
+provoked, and so incessantly irritated, is not clear to me. At all events
+I will see him to-night, and hear what he has to say to me. I am sure it
+has no concern with this letter from India.&rdquo; With these words Beattie
+induced his friend to defer his journey for another day.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was a long and anxious day to poor Lendrick. It was not alone that he
+had to suffer the bitter disappointment of all his hopes of being received
+by his father and admitted to some gleam of future favor, but he had
+discovered that certain debts which he had believed long settled by the
+judge were still outstanding against him, Lady Lendrick having interfered
+to prevent their payment, while she assured the creditors that if they had
+patience Dr. Lendrick would one day or other be in a position to acquit
+them. Between two and three thousand pounds thus hung over him of
+indebtedness above all his calculations, and equally above all his ability
+to meet.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We thought you knew all this, Dr. Lendrick,&rdquo; said Mr. Hack, Sir William's
+agent; &ldquo;we imagined you were a party to the arrangement, understanding
+that you were reluctant to bring these debts under the Chief Baron's eyes,
+being moneys lent to your wife's relations.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believed that they were paid,&rdquo; was all his reply, for the story was a
+painful one of trust betrayed and confidence abused, and he did not desire
+to revive it. He had often been told that his stepmother was the real
+obstacle to all hope of reconciliation with his father, but that she had
+pushed her enmity to him to the extent of his ruin was more than he was
+prepared for. They had never met, but at one time letters had frequently
+passed between them. Hers were marvels of good wishes and kind intentions,
+dashed with certain melancholy reflections over some shadowy unknown
+something which had been the cause of his estrangement from his father,
+but which time and endurance might not impossibly diminish the bitterness
+of, though with very little hope of leading to a more amicable relation.
+She would assume, besides, occasionally a kind of companionship in sorrow,
+and, as though the confession had burst from her unawares, avow that Sir
+William's temper was more than human nature was called upon to submit to,
+and that years only added to those violent outbursts of passion which made
+the existence of all around him a perpetual martyrdom. These always wound
+up with some sweet congratulations on &ldquo;Tom's good fortune in his life of
+peaceful retirement,&rdquo; and the &ldquo;tranquil pleasures of that charming spot of
+which every one tells me such wonders, and which the hope of visiting is
+one of my most entrancing daydreams.&rdquo; We give the passage textually,
+because it occurred without a change of a word thus in no less than five
+different letters.
+</p>
+<p>
+This formal repetition of a phrase, and certain mistakes she made about
+the names of his children, first opened Lendrick's eyes as to the
+sincerity and affection of his correspondent, for he was the least
+suspicious of men, and regarded distrust as a disgrace to him who
+entertained it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Over all these things now did he ponder during this long dreary day. He
+did not like to go out lest he should meet old acquaintances and be
+interrogated about his father, of whom he knew less than almost every one.
+He shunned the tone of compassionate interest men met him with, and he
+dreaded even the old faces that reminded him of the past. He could not
+read: he tried, but could not. After a few minutes he found that his
+thoughts wandered off from the book and centred on his own concerns, till
+his head ached with the weary round of those difficulties which came ever
+back, and back, and back again undiminished, unrelieved, and unsolved. The
+embarrassments of life are not, like chess problems, to be resolved by a
+skilful combination: they are to be encountered by temper, by patience, by
+daring at one time, by submission at another, by a careful consideration
+of a man's own powers, and by a clear-sighted estimate of his neighbors;
+and all these exercised not beforehand, nor in retirement, but on the very
+field itself where the conflict is raging and the fight at its hottest.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was late at night when Beattie returned home, and entered the study
+where Lendrick sat awaiting him. &ldquo;I am very late, Tom,&rdquo; said he, as he
+threw himself into an arm-chair, like one fatigued and exhausted; &ldquo;but it
+was impossible to get away. Never in all my life have I seen him so full
+of anecdote, so abounding in pleasant recollections, so ready-witted, and
+so brilliant. I declare to you that if I could but recite the things he
+said, or give them even with a faint semblance of the way he told them, it
+would be the most amusing page of bygone Irish history. It was a grand
+review of all the celebrated men whom he remembered in his youth, from the
+eccentric Lord Bristol, the Bishop of Down, to O'Connell and Shiel. Nor
+did his own self-estimate, high as it was, make the picture in which he
+figured less striking, nor less memorable his concluding words, as he
+said, 'These fellows are all in history, Beattie,&mdash;every man of them.
+There are statues to them in our highways, and men visit the spots that
+gave them birth; and here am I, second to none of them. Trinity College
+and the Four Courts will tell you if I speak in vanity; and here am I; and
+the only question about me is, when I intend to vacate the bench, when it
+will be my good pleasure to resign&mdash;they are not particular which&mdash;my
+judgeship or my life. But, sir, I mean not to do either; I mean to live
+and protest against the inferiority of the men around me, and the
+ingratitude of the country that does not know how to appreciate the one
+man of eminence it possesses.' I assure you, Tom, vain and insolent as the
+speech was, as I listened I thought it was neither. There was a haughty
+dignity about him, to which his noble bead and his deep sonorous voice and
+his commanding look lent effect that overcame all thought of attributing
+to such a man any over-estimate of his powers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And this note that he wished to show you,&mdash;what was it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, the note was a few lines written in an adjoining room by Balfour, the
+Viceroy's secretary. It seems that his Excellency, finding all other
+seductions fail, thought of approaching your father through you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Through <i>me!</i> It was a bright inspiration.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he sent Balfour to ask if the Chief Baron would feel gratified by
+the post of Hospital Inspector at the Cape being offered to you. It is
+worth eight hundred a year, and a house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what answer did he give?&rdquo; asked Lendrick, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He directed Balfour, who only saw Lady Lendrick, to reduce the proposal
+to writing. I don't fancy that the accomplished young gentleman exactly
+liked the task, but he did not care to refuse, and so he sat down and
+wrote one of the worst notes I ever read.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worst&mdash;in what way?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In every way. It was scarcely intelligible, without a previous knowledge
+of its contents, and so worded as to imply that when the Chief Baron had
+acceded to the proposal, he had so bound himself in gratitude to the
+Government that all honorable retreat was closed to him. I wish you saw
+your father's face when he read it. 'Beattie,' said he, 'I have no right
+to say Tom must refuse this offer; but if he should do so, I will make the
+document you see there be read in the House, and my name is not William
+Lendrick if it do not cost them more than they are prepared for. Go now
+and consult your friend;' it was so he called you. 'If his wants are such
+that this place is of consequence to him, let him accept it. I shall not
+ask his reasons for whatever course he may take. <i>My</i> reply is
+already written, and to his Excellency in person.' This he said in a way
+to imply that its tone was one not remarkable for conciliation or
+courtesy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought the opportunity a favorable one to say that you were in town at
+the moment, that the accounts of his illness had brought you up, and that
+you were staying at my house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'The sooner will you be able to communicate with him, sir,' said he,
+haughtily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No more than that!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No more, except that he added, 'Remember, sir, his acceptance or his
+refusal is to be his own act, not to be intimated in any way to me, nor to
+come through me.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is unnecessary harshness,&rdquo; said Lendrick, with a quivering lip;
+&ldquo;there was no need to tell me how estranged we are from each other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I fancied I could detect a struggle with himself in all his sternness;
+and his hand trembled when I took it to say 'good-bye.' I was going to ask
+if you might not be permitted to see him, even for a brief moment; but I
+was afraid, lest in refusing he might make a reconciliation still more
+remote, and so I merely said, 'May I leave you those miniatures I showed
+you a few days ago? 'His answer was, 'You may leave them, sir.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I came down to the hall, I met Lady Lendrick. She was in evening
+dress, going out, but had evidently waited to Catch me as I passed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You find the Chief much better, don't you?' asked she. I bowed and
+assented.. 'And he will be better still,' added she, 'when all these
+anxieties are over.' She saw that I did not or would not apprehend her
+meaning, and added, 'I mean about this resignation, which, of course, you
+will advise him to. The Government are really behaving so very well, so
+liberal, and withal so delicate. If they had been our own people, I doubt
+if they would have shown anything like the same generosity.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I have heard of nothing but the offer to Dr. Lendrick,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She seemed confused, and moved on; and then recovering herself, said,
+'And a most handsome offer it is. I hope he thinks so.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With this we parted, and I believe now I have told you almost word for
+word everything that occurred concerning you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do <i>you</i> say to all this, Beattie?&rdquo; asked Lendrick, in a
+half-sad tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say that if in your place, Tom, I would accept. It may be that the
+Chief Baron will interpose and say, Don't go; or it may be that your
+readiness to work for your bread should conciliate him; he has long had
+the impression that you are indisposed to exertion, and too fond of your
+own ease.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it,&mdash;I know it; Lady Lendrick has intimated as much to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At all events, you can make no mistake in entertaining the project; and
+certainly the offer is not to be despised.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is of him, and of him alone, I am thinking, Beattie. If he would let
+me see him, admit me once more on my old terms of affection, I would go
+anywhere, do anything that he counselled. Try, my dear friend, to bring
+this about; do your best for me, and remember I will subscribe to any
+terms, submit to anything, if he will only be reconciled to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It will be hard if we cannot manage this somehow,&rdquo; said Beattie; &ldquo;but now
+let us to bed. It is past two o'clock. Good-night, Tom; sleep well, and
+don't dream of the Cape or the Caffres.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VII. THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOR
+</h2>
+<p>
+That ancient and incongruous pile which goes by the name of the Castle in
+Dublin, and to which Irishmen very generally look as the well from which
+all honors and places flow, is not remarkable for either the splendor or
+space it affords to the inmates beneath its roof. Upheld by a great
+prestige perhaps, as in the case of certain distinguished people, who
+affect a humble exterior and very simple belongings, it may deem that its
+own transcendent importance has no need of accessories. Certainly the
+ugliness of its outside is in noway unbalanced by the meanness within; and
+even the very highest of those who claim its hospitality are lodged in
+no-princely fashion.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a corner of the old red brick quadrangle, to the right of the state
+entrance, in a small room whose two narrow windows looked into a lane, sat
+a very well-dressed young-gentleman at a writing-table. Short, and
+disposed to roundness in face as well as figure, Mr. Cholmondely Balfour
+scarcely responded in appearance to his imposing name. Nature had not been
+as bountiful, perhaps, as Fortune; for while he was rich, well born, and
+considerably gifted in abilities, his features were unmistakably common
+and vulgar, and all the aids of dress could not atone for the meanness in
+his general look. Had he simply accepted his image as a thing to be
+quietly borne and submitted to, the case might not have been so very bad;
+but he took it as something to be corrected, changed, and ameliorated, and
+the result was a perpetual struggle to make the most ordinary traits and
+commonplace features appear the impress of one on whom Nature had written
+gentleman. It would have been no easy task to have imposed on him in a
+question of his duty. He was the private secretary of the Viceroy, who was
+his maternal uncle. It would have been a tough task to have misled or
+deceived him in any matter open to his intelligence to examine; but upon
+this theme there was not the inventor of a hair-wash, a skin-paste, a
+whisker-dye, or a pearl-powder that might not have led him captive. A
+bishop might have found difficulty in getting audience of him,&mdash;a
+barber might have entered unannounced; and while the lieutenant of a
+county sat waiting in the antechamber, the tailor, with a new waistcoat
+pattern, walked boldly into the august presence. Entering life by that <i>petite
+porte</i> of politics, an Irish office, he had conceived a very humble
+estimate of the people amongst whom he was placed. Regarding his
+extradition from Whitehall and its precincts as a sort of probationary
+banishment, he felt, however, its necessity; and as naval men are
+accredited with two years of service for every one year on the coast of
+Africa, Mr. Balfour was aware that a grateful Government could equally
+recognize the devotion of him who gave some of the years of his youth to
+the Fernando Po of statecraft.
+</p>
+<p>
+This impression, being rarely personal in its consequences, was not of
+much moment; but it was conjoined with a more serious error, which was to
+imagine that all rule and governance in Ireland should be carried on with
+a Machiavellian subtlety. The people, he had heard, were quick-witted; he
+must therefore out-manoeuvre them. Jobbery had been, he was told, the ruin
+of Ireland; he would show its inefficiency by the superior skill with
+which he could wield its weapon. To be sure his office was a very minor
+one, its influence very restricted, but Mr. Balfour was ambitious; he was
+a Viceroy's nephew; he had sat for months in the House, from which he had
+been turned out on a petition. He had therefore social advantages to build
+on, abilities to display, and wrongs to avenge; and as a man too late for
+the train speculates during the day how far on his road he might have been
+by this time or by that, so did Mr. Balfour continually keep reminding
+himself how, but for that confounded petition, he might now have been a
+Treasury this or a Board of Trade that,&mdash;a corporal, in fact, in that
+great army whose commissioned officers are amongst the highest in Europe.
+</p>
+<p>
+Let us now present him to our reader, as he lay back in his chair, and by
+a hand-bell summoned his messenger.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, Watkins, when Clancey calls about those trousers show him in, and
+send some one over to the packet-office about the phosphorus blacking; you
+know we are on the last jar of it. If the Solicitor-General should come&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is here, sir; he has been waiting these twenty minutes. I told him you
+were with his Excellency.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I was,&mdash;so I always am,&rdquo; said he, throwing a half-smoked cigar
+into the fire. &ldquo;Admit him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A pale, care-worn, anxious-looking man, whose face was not without traces
+of annoyance at the length of time he had been kept waiting, now entered
+and sat down.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just where we were yesterday, Pemberton,&rdquo; said Balfour, as he rose and
+stood with his back to the fire, the tails of his gorgeous dressing-gown
+hanging over his arms. &ldquo;Intractable as he ever was; he won't die, and he
+won't resign.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His friends say he is perfectly willing to resign if you agree to his
+terms.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That may be possible; the question is, What are his terms? Have you a
+precedent of a Chief Baron being raised to the peerage?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not, as I understand, the peerage he insists on; he inclines to a
+moneyed arrangement.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are too poor, Pemberton,&mdash;we are too poor. There's a deep gap in
+our customs this quarter. It's reduction we must think of, not outlay.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the changes <i>are</i> to be made,&rdquo; said the other, with a tone of
+impatience, &ldquo;I certainly ought to be told at once, or I shall have no time
+left for my canvass.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An Irish borough, Pemberton,&mdash;an Irish borough requires so little,&rdquo;
+ said Balfour, with a compassionate smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such is not the opinion over here, sir,&rdquo; said Pemberton, stiffly; &ldquo;and I
+might even suggest some caution in saying it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Caution is the badge of all our tribe,&rdquo; said Balfour, with a burlesque
+gravity. &ldquo;By the way, Pemberton, his Excellency is greatly disappointed at
+the issue of these Cork trials; why did n't you hang these fellows?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Juries can no more be coerced here than in England; they brought them in
+not guilty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We know all that, and we ask you why? There certainly was little room for
+doubt in the evidence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When you have lived longer in Ireland, Mr. Balfour, you will learn that
+there are other considerations in a trial than the testimony of the
+witnesses.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's exactly what I said to his Excellency; and I remarked, 'If
+Pemberton comes into the House, he must prepare for a sharp attack about
+these trials.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And it is exactly to ascertain if I am to enter Parliament that I have
+come here to-day,&rdquo; said the other, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bring me the grateful tidings that the Lord Chief Baron has joined his
+illustrious predecessors in that distinguished court, I 'll answer you in
+five minutes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie declares he is better this morning. He says that he has in all
+probability years of life before him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's nothing so hard to kill as a judge, except it be an archbishop.
+I believe a sedentary life does it; they say if a fellow will sit still
+and never move he may live to any age.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Pemberton took an impatient turn up and down the room, and then wheeling
+about directly in front of Balfour, said, &ldquo;If his Excellency knew,
+perhaps, that I do not want the House of Commons&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not want the House,&mdash;not wish to be in Parliament?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not. If I enter the House, it is as a law-officer of the Crown;
+personally it is no object to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll not tell him that, Pem. I'll keep your secret safe, for I tell you
+frankly it would ruin you to reveal it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's no secret, sir; you may proclaim it,&mdash;you may publish it in the
+'Gazette,' But really we are wasting much valuable time here. It is now
+two o'clock, and I must go down to Court. I have only to say that if no
+arrangement be come to before this time to-morrow&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped
+short. Another word might have committed him, but he pulled up in time.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what then?&rdquo; asked Balfour, with a half smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard you pride yourself, Mr. Balfour,&rdquo; said the other,
+recovering, &ldquo;on your skill in nice negotiation; why not try what you could
+do with the Chief Baron?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are there women in the family?&rdquo; said Balfour, caressing his moustache.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; only his wife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've seen her,&rdquo; said he, contemptuously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He quarrelled with his only son, and has not spoken to him, I believe,
+for nigh thirty years, and the poor fellow is struggling on as a country
+doctor somewhere in the west.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What if we were to propose to do something for him? Men are often not
+averse to see those assisted whom their own pride refuses to help.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely suspect you 'll acquire his gratitude that way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We don't want his gratitude, we want his place. I declare I think the
+idea a good one. There's a thing now at the Cape, an inspectorship of
+something,&mdash;Hottentots or hospitals, I forget which. His Excellency
+asked to have the gift of it; what if we were to appoint this man?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make the crier of his Court a Commissioner in Chancery, and Baron
+Lendrick will be more obliged to you,&rdquo; said Pem-berton, with a sneer. &ldquo;He
+is about the least forgiving man I ever knew or heard of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is this son of his to be found?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw him yesterday walking with Dr. Beattie. I have no doubt Beattie
+knows his address. But let me warn you once more against the inutility of
+the step you would take. I doubt if the old Judge would as much as thank
+you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Balfour turned round to the glass and smiled sweetly at himself, as though
+to say that he had heard of some one who knew how to make these
+negotiations successful,&mdash;a fellow of infinite readiness, a clever
+fellow, but withal one whose good looks and distinguished air left even
+his talents in the background.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I 'll call and see the Chief Baron myself,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;His
+Excellency sends twice a day to inquire, and I 'll take the opportunity to
+make him a visit,&mdash;that is, if he will receive me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is doubtful. At all events, let me give you one hint for your
+guidance. Neither let drop Mr. Attorney's name nor mine in your
+conversation; avoid the mention of any one whose career might be
+influenced by the Baron's retirement; and talk of him less as a human
+being than as an institution that is destined to endure as long as the
+British constitution.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish it was a woman&mdash;if it was only a woman I had to deal with,
+the whole affair might be deemed settled.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you should be able to do anything before the mail goes out to-night,
+perhaps you will inform me,&rdquo; said Pem-berton, as he bowed and left the
+room. &ldquo;And these are the men they send over here to administer the
+country!&rdquo; muttered he, as he descended the stairs,&mdash;&ldquo;such are the
+intelligences that are to rule Ireland! Was it Voltaire who said there was
+nothing so inscrutable in all the ways of Providence as the miserable
+smallness of those creatures to whom the destiny of nations was
+committed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Ruminating over this, he hastened on to a <i>nisi prius</i> case.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER VIII. A PUZZLING COMMISSION
+</h2>
+<p>
+As Colonel Cave re-entered his quarters after morning parade in the Royal
+Barracks of Dublin, he found the following letter, which the post had just
+delivered. It was headed &ldquo;Strictly Private,&rdquo; with three dashes under the
+words.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Holt-Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Colonel Cave,&mdash;Sir Hugh is confined to bed with a severe
+attack of gout,&mdash;the doctors call it flying gout. He suffers greatly,
+and his nerves are in a state of irritation that makes all attempt at
+writing impossible. This will be my apology for obtruding upon you,
+though, perhaps, the cause in which I write might serve for excuse. We are
+in the deepest anxiety about Lionel. You are already aware how heavily his
+extravagance has cost us. His play-debts amounted to above ten thousand
+pounds, and all the cleverness of Mr. Joel has not been able to compromise
+with the tradespeople for less than as much more; nor are we yet done with
+demands from various quarters. It is not, however, of these that I desire
+to speak. Your kind offer to take him into your own regiment, and exercise
+the watchful supervision of a parent, has relieved us of much anxiety, and
+his own sincere affection for you is the strongest assurance we can have
+that the step has been a wise one. Our present uneasiness has however a
+deeper source than mere pecuniary embarrassment. The boy&mdash;he is very
+little more than a boy in years&mdash;has fallen in love, and gravely
+writes to his father for consent that he may marry. I assure you the shock
+brought back all Sir Hugh's most severe symptoms; and his left eye was
+attacked with an inflammation such as Dr. Gole says he never saw equalled.
+So far as the incoherency of his letter will permit us to guess, the girl
+is a person in a very humble condition of life, the daughter of a country
+doctor, of course without family or fortune. That he made her acquaintance
+by an accident, as he informs us, is also a reason to suppose that they
+are not people in society. The name, as well as I can decipher it, is
+Lendrich or Hendrich,&mdash;neither very distinguished!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, my dear Colonel, even to a second son, such an alliance would be
+perfectly intolerable,&mdash;totally at variance with all his father's
+plans for him, and inconsistent with the station he should occupy. But
+there are other considerations,&mdash;too sad ones, too melancholy indeed
+to be spoken of, except where the best interests of a family are to be
+regarded, which press upon us here. The last accounts of George from
+Madeira leave us scarcely a hope. The climate, from which so much was
+expected, has done nothing. The season has been unhappily most severe, and
+the doctors agree in declaring that the malady has not yielded in any
+respect. You will see, therefore, what a change any day may accomplish in
+Lionel's prospects, and how doubly important it is that he should contract
+no ties inconsistent with a station of no mean importance. Not that these
+considerations would weigh with Lionel in the least: he was always
+headstrong, rash, and self-willed; and if he were, or fancied that he
+were, bound in honor to do a thing, I know well that all persuasions would
+be unavailing to prevent him. I cannot believe, however, that matters can
+have gone so far here. This acquaintanceship must be of the very shortest;
+and however designing and crafty such people may be, there will surely be
+some means of showing them that their designs are impracticable, and of a
+nature only to bring disappointment and disgrace upon themselves. That Sir
+Hugh would give his consent is totally out of the question,&mdash;a thing
+not to be thought of for a moment; indeed I may tell you in confidence
+that his first thought on reading L.'s letter was to carry out a project
+to which George had already consented, and by which the entail should be
+cut off, and our third son, Harry, in that case would inherit. This will
+show you to what extent his indignation would carry him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now what is to be done? for, really, it is but time lost in deploring
+when prompt action alone can save us. Do you know, or do you know any one
+who does know, these Hendrichs or Lendrichs&mdash;who are they, what are
+they? Are they people to whom I could write myself, or are they in that
+rank in life which would enable us to make some sort of compromise? Again,
+could you in anyway obtain L.'s confidence, and make him open his heart to
+you <i>first?</i> This is the more essential, because the moment he hears
+of anything like coercion or pressure, his whole spirit will rise in
+resistance, and he will be totally unmanageable. You have perhaps more
+influence over him than any one else, and even your influence he would
+resent if he suspected any dominance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am madly impatient to hear what you will suggest. Will it be to see
+these people, to reason with them, to explain to them the fruitlessness of
+what they are doing? Will it be to talk to the girl herself?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My first thought was to send for Lionel, as his father was so ill, but on
+consideration I felt that a meeting between them might be the thing of all
+others to be avoided. Indeed, in Sir Hugh's present temper, I dare not
+think of the consequences.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Might it be advisable to get Lionel attached to some foreign station? If
+so, I am sure I could manage it&mdash;only, would he go? there 's the
+question,&mdash;would he go? I am writing in such distress of mind, and so
+hurriedly too, that I really do not know what I have set down and what I
+have omitted. I trust, however, there is enough of this sad case before
+you to enable you to counsel me, or, what is much better, act for me. I
+wish I could send you L.'s letter, but Sir Hugh has put it away, and I
+cannot lay my hand on it. Its purport, however, was to obtain authority
+from us to approach this girl's relations as a suitor, and to show that
+his intentions were known to and concurred in by his family. The only
+gleam of hope in the epistle was his saying, 'I have not the slightest
+reason to believe she would accept me, but the approval of my friends will
+certainly give me the best chance.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, my dear Colonel, compassionate my anxiety, and write to me at once&mdash;something&mdash;anything.
+Write such a letter as Sir Hugh may see; and if you have anything secret
+or confidential, enclose it as a separate slip. Was it not unfortunate
+that we refused that Indian appointment for him? All this misery might
+have been averted. You may imagine how Sir Hugh feels this conduct the
+more bitterly, coming, as I may say, on the back of all his late
+indiscretions.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember, finally, happen what may, this project must not go on. It is a
+question of the boy's whole future and life. To defy his father is to
+disinherit himself; and it is not impossible that this might be the most
+effectual argument you could employ with these people who now seek to
+entangle him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have certainly no reason to love Ireland. It was there that my cousin
+Cornwallis married that dreadful creature who is now suing him for
+cruelty, and exposing the family throughout England.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Hugh gave directions last week about lodging the purchase-money for
+his company, but he wrote a few lines to Cox's last night&mdash;to what
+purport I cannot say&mdash;not impossibly to countermand it. What
+affliction all this is!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As Colonel Cave read over this letter for a second time, he was not
+without misgivings about the even small share to which he had contributed
+in this difficulty. It was evidently during the short leave he had granted
+that this acquaintanceship had been formed; and Fossbrooke's companionship
+was the very last thing in the world to deter a young and ardent fellow
+from anything high-flown or romantic. &ldquo;I ought never to have thrown them
+together,&rdquo; muttered he, as he walked his room in doubt and deliberation.
+</p>
+<p>
+He rang his bell and sent for the adjutant. &ldquo;Where 's Trafford?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You gave him three days' leave yesterday, sir. He's gone down to that
+fishing-village where he went before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Confound the place! Send for him at once&mdash;telegraph. No&mdash;let us
+see&mdash;his leave is up to-morrow?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The next day at ten he was to report.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His father is ill,&mdash;an attack of gout,&rdquo; muttered the Colonel, to
+give some color to his agitated manner. &ldquo;But it is better, perhaps, not to
+alarm him. The seizure seems passing off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said something about asking for a longer term; he wants a fortnight, I
+think. The season is just beginning now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He shall not have it, sir. Take good care to warn him not to apply. It
+will breed discontent in the regiment to see a young fellow who has not
+been a year with us obtain a leave every ten or fifteen days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it were any other than Trafford, there would be plenty of grumbling.
+But he is such a favorite!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know that a worse accident could befall any man. Many a fine
+fellow has been taught selfishness by the over-estimate others have formed
+of him. See that you keep him to his duty, and that he is to look for no
+favoritism.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Colonel did not well know why he said this, nor did he stop to think
+what might come of it. It smacked, to his mind, however, of something
+prompt, active, and energetic.
+</p>
+<p>
+His next move was to write a short note to Lady Trafford, acknowledging
+hers, and saying that, Lionel being absent,&mdash;he did not add where,&mdash;nothing
+could be done till he should see him. &ldquo;To-morrow&mdash;next day at
+farthest&mdash;I will report progress. I cannot believe the case to be so
+serious as you suppose; at all events, count upon me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stay!&rdquo; cried he to the adjutant, who stood in the window awaiting further
+instructions; &ldquo;on second thoughts, do telegraph. Say, 'Return at once.'
+This will prepare him for something.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER IX. A BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE
+</h2>
+<p>
+On the day after the picnic Sir Brook went by invitation to breakfast with
+the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When a man asks you to dinner,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, &ldquo;he generally wants you
+to talk; when he asks you to breakfast, he wants to talk to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Whatever be the truth of this adage generally, it certainly-had its
+application in the present case. The vicar wanted very much to talk to Sir
+Brook.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they sat, therefore, over their coffee and devilled kidneys, chatting
+over the late excursion and hinting at another, the vicar suddenly said:
+&ldquo;By the way, I want you to tell me something of the young fellow who was
+one of us yesterday. Tobin, our doctor here, who is a perfect
+commission-agent for scandal, says he is the greatest scamp going; that
+about eight or ten months ago the 'Times' was full of his exploits in
+bankruptcy; that his liabilities were tens of thousands,&mdash;assets <i>nil</i>.
+In a word, that, notwithstanding his frank, honest look, and his
+unaffected manner, he is the most accomplished scapegrace of the age.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how much of this do you believe?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, as he helped
+himself to coffee.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is not so easy to reply to; but I tell you, if you ask me, that I 'd
+rather not believe one word of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor need you. His Colonel told me something about the young fellow's
+difficulties; he himself related the rest. He went most recklessly into
+debt; betted largely on races, and lost; lent freely, and lost; raised at
+ruinous interest, and renewed at still more ruinous; but his father has
+paid every shilling of it out of that fortune which one day was to have
+come to him, so that Lionel's thirty thousand pounds is now about eight
+thousand. I have put the whole story into the fewest possible words, but
+that's the substance of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And has it cured him of extravagance?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it has not. How should it? <i>You</i> have lived some more
+years in the world than he has, and I a good many more than <i>you</i>,
+and will you tell me that time has cured either of us of any of our old
+shortcomings? <i>Non sum quails eram</i> means, I can't be as wild as I
+used to be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; I won't agree to that. I protest most strongly against the
+doctrine. Many men are wiser through experience, and, consequently,
+better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sincerely believe I knew the world better at four-and-twenty than I
+know it now. The reason why we are less often deceived in after than in
+early life is not that we are more crafty or more keen-eyed. It is simply
+because we risk less. Let us hazard as much at sixty as we once did at
+six-and-twenty, and we 'll lose as heavily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The vicar paused a few moments over the other's words, and then said, &ldquo;To
+come back to this young man, I half suspect he has formed an attachment to
+Lucy, and that he is doing his utmost to succeed in her favor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is there anything wrong in that, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not positively wrong; but there is what may lead to a great deal of
+unhappiness. Who is to say how Trafford's family would like the
+connection? Who is to answer for Lendrick's approval of Trafford?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You induce me to make a confidence I have no right to impart; but I rely
+so implicitly on your discretion. I will tell you what was intrusted to me
+as a secret: Trafford has already written to his father to ask his
+consent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Without speaking to Lendrick? without even being sure of Lucy's?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, without knowing anything of either; but on my advice he has first
+asked his father's permission to pay his addresses to the young lady. His
+position with his family is peculiar; he is a younger son, but not exactly
+as free as most younger sons feel to act for themselves. I cannot now
+explain this more fully, but it is enough if you understand that he is
+entirely dependent on his father. When I came to know this, and when I saw
+that he was becoming desperately in love, I insisted on this appeal to his
+friends before he either entangled Lucy in a promise, or even made any
+declaration himself. He showed me the letter before he posted it. It was
+all I could wish. It is not a very easy task for a young fellow to tell
+his father he 's in love; but he, in the very frankness of his nature,
+acquitted himself well and manfully.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what answer has he received?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None as yet. Two posts have passed. He might have heard through either of
+them; but no letter has come, and he is feverishly uneasy and anxious.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The vicar was silent, but a grave motion of his head implied doubt and
+fear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, answering the gesture,&mdash;&ldquo;yes, I agree with
+you. The Traffords are great folk in their own country. Trafford was a
+strong place in Saxon times. They have pride enough for all this blood,
+and wealth enough for both pride and blood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 'd find their match in Lendrick, quiet and simple as he seems,&rdquo; said
+the vicar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which makes the matter worse. Who is to give way? Who is to <i>céder le
+pas?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not so sure I should have advised that letter. I am inclined to
+think I would have counselled more time, more consideration. Fathers and
+mothers are prudently averse to these loves at first sight, and they are
+merciless in dealing with what they deem a mere passing sentiment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Better that than suffer him to engage the girl's affections, and then
+learn that he must either desert her or marry her against the feeling of
+his family. Let us have a stroll in the garden. I have made you one
+confidence; I will now make you another.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They lit their cigars, and strolled out into a long alley fenced on one
+side by a tall dense hedge of laurels, and flanked on the other by a low
+wall, over which the view took in the wide reach of the river and the
+distant mountains of Scariff and Meelick.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was not that where we picnicked yesterday?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, pointing to
+an island in the distance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; you cannot see Holy Island from this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook smoked on for some minutes without a word; at last, with a sort
+of abruptness, he said, &ldquo;She was so like her, not only in face and figure,
+but her manner; the very tone of her voice was like; and then that
+half-caressing, half-timid way she has in conversation, and, more than
+all, the sly quietness with which she caps you when you fancy that the
+smart success is all your own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of whom are you speaking?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of another Lucy,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, with a deep melancholy. &ldquo;Heaven grant
+that the resemblance follow them not in their lives as in their features!
+It was that likeness, however, which first attracted me towards Miss
+Lendrick. The first moment I saw her it overcame me; as I grew to know her
+better, it almost confused me, and made me jumble in your hearing things
+of long ago with the present. Time and space were both forgotten, and I
+found my mind straying away to scenes in the Himalaya with those I shall
+never see more. It was thus that, one day carried away by this delusion, I
+chanced to call her Lucy, and she laughingly begged me not to retract it,
+but so to call her always.&rdquo; For some minutes he was silent, and then
+resumed: &ldquo;I don't know if you ever heard of a Colonel Frank Dillon, who
+served on Napier's staff in Scinde. Fiery Frank was his nickname among his
+comrades, but it only applied to him on the field of battle, and with an
+enemy in front. Then he was indeed fiery,&mdash;the excitement rose to
+almost madness, and led him to acts of almost incredible daring. At Meanee
+he was nearly cut to pieces, and as he lay wounded, and to all appearance
+dying, he received a lance-wound through the chest that the surgeon
+declared must prove fatal. He lived, however, for eight months after,&mdash;he
+lived long enough to reach the Himalayas, where his daughter, an only
+child, joined him from England. On her way out she became acquainted with
+a young officer, who was coming out as aide-de-camp to the
+Governor-General. They were constantly thrown together on the journey, and
+his attentions to her soon showed the sentiments he had conceived for her.
+In fact, very soon after Lucy had joined her father, Captain Sewell
+appeared 'in the Hills' to make a formal demand of her in marriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was there at the time, and I remember well poor Dillon's expression of
+disappointment after the first meeting with him. His daughter's
+enthusiastic description of his looks, his manner, his abilities, his
+qualities generally, had perhaps prepared him for too much. Indeed, Lucy's
+own intense admiration for the soldierlike character of her father's
+features assisted the mistake; for, as Dillon said, 'There must be a dash
+of the <i>sabreur</i> in the fellow that will win Lucy.' I came into
+Dillon's room immediately after the first interview. The instant I caught
+his eye I read what was going on in his brain. 'Sit down here, Brook,'
+cried he, 'sit in my chair here;' and he arose painfully as he spoke.
+'I'll show you the man.' With this he hobbled over to a table where his
+cap lay, and, placing it rakishly on one side of his head, he stuck his
+eyeglass in one eye, and, with a hand in his trousers-pocket, lounged
+forward towards where I sat, saying, 'How d' ye do, Colonel? Wound doing
+better, I hope. The breezy climate up here soon set you up.' 'Familiar
+enough this, sir,' cried Dillon, in his own stern voice; 'but without time
+to breathe, as it were,&mdash;before almost I had exchanged a greeting
+with him,&mdash;he entered upon the object of his journey. I scarcely
+heard a word he said; I knew its purport,&mdash;I could mark the theme,&mdash;but
+no more. It was not the fellow himself that filled my mind; my whole
+thoughts were upon my daughter, and I went on repeating to myself, &ldquo;Good
+heavens! is this Lucy's choice? Am I in a trance? Is it this contemptible
+cur (for he was a cur, sir) that has won the affections of my darling,
+high-hearted, generous girl? Is the romantic spirit that I have so loved
+to see in her to bear no better fruit than this? Does the fellow realize
+to her mind the hero that fills men's thoughts?&rdquo; I was so overcome, so
+excited, so confused, Brook, that I begged him to leave me for a while,
+that one of my attacks of pain was coming on, and that I should not be
+able to converse farther He said something about trying one of his
+cheroots,&mdash;some impertinence or other, I forget what; but he left me,
+and I, who never knew a touch of girlish weakness in my life, who when a
+child had no mood of softness in my nature,&mdash;I felt the tears
+trickling along my cheeks, and my eyes dimmed with them.' My poor friend,&rdquo;
+ continued Fossbrooke, &ldquo;could not go on; his emotions mastered him, and he
+sat with his head buried between his hands and in silence. At last he
+said, 'She 'll not give him up, Brook; I have spoken to her,&mdash;she
+actually loves him. Good heavens!' he cried, 'how little do we know about
+our children's hearts! how far astray are we as to the natures that have
+grown up beside us, imbibing, as we thought, our hopes, our wishes, and
+our prejudices! We awake some day to discover that some other influence
+has crept in to undo our teachings, and that the fidelity on which we
+would have staked our lives has changed allegiance.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He talked to me long in this strain, and I saw that the effects of this
+blow to all his hopes had made themselves deeply felt on his chance of
+recovery. It only needed a great shock to depress him to make his case
+hopeless. Within two months after his daughter's arrival he was no more.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I became Lucy's guardian. Poor Dillon gave me the entire control over her
+future fortune, and left me to occupy towards her the place he had himself
+held. I believe that next to her father I held the best place in her
+affections,&mdash;of such affections, I mean, as are accorded to a parent.
+I was her godfather, and from her earliest infancy she had learned to love
+me. The reserve&mdash;it was positive coldness&mdash;with which Dillon had
+always treated Sewell had caused a certain distance, for the first time in
+their lives, between the father and daughter. She thought, naturally
+enough, that her father was unjust; that, unaccustomed to the new tone of
+manners which had grown up amongst young men,&mdash;their greater ease,
+their less rigid observance of ceremonial, their more liberal
+self-indulgence,&mdash;he was unfairly severe upon her lover. She was
+annoyed, too, that Sewells attempts to conciliate the old man should have
+turned out such complete failures. But none of these prejudices extended
+to me, and she counted much on the good understanding that she expected to
+find grow up between us.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I could have prevented the marriage, I would. I learned many things of
+the man that I disliked. There is no worse sign of a man than to be at the
+same time a man of pleasure and friendless. These he was,&mdash;he was
+foremost in every plan of amusement and dissipation, and yet none liked
+him. Vain fellows get quizzed for their vanity, and selfish men laughed at
+for their selfishness, and close men for their avarice; but there is a
+combination of vanity, egotism, small craftiness, and self-preservation in
+certain fellows that is totally repugnant to all companionship. Their
+lives are a series of petty successes, not owing to any superior ability
+or greater boldness of daring, but to a studious outlook for small
+opportunities. They are ever alive to know the 'right man,' to be invited
+to the 'right house,' to say the 'right thing.' Never linked with whatever
+is in disgrace or misfortune, they are always found backing the winning
+horse, if not riding him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such men as these, so long as the world goes well with them, and events
+turn out fortunately, are regarded simply as sharp, shrewd fellows, with a
+keen eye to their own interests. When, however, the weight of any
+misfortune comes, when the time arrives that they have to bear up against
+the hard pressure of life, these fellows come forth in their true colors,
+swindlers and cheats.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such was he. Finding that I was determined to settle the small fortune
+her father had left her inalienably on herself, he defeated me by a
+private marriage. He then launched out into a life of extravagance to
+which their means bore no proportion. I was a rich man in those days, and
+knew nothing better to do with my money than assist the daughter of my
+oldest friend. The gallant Captain did not balk my good intentions. He
+first accepted, he then borrowed, and last of all he forged my name. I
+paid the bills and saved him, not for his sake, I need not tell you, but
+for hers, who threw herself at my feet, and implored me not to see them
+ruined. Even this act of hers he turned to profit. He wrote to me to say
+that he knew his wife had been to my house, that he had long nurtured
+suspicions against me,&mdash;I that was many years older than her own
+father,&mdash;that for the future he desired all acquaintance should cease
+between us, and that I should not again cross his threshold.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By what persuasions or by what menaces he led his wife to the step, I do
+not know; but she passed me when we met without a recognition. This was
+the hardest blow of all. I tried to write her a letter; but after a score
+of attempts I gave it up, and left the place.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never saw her for eight years. I wish I had not seen her then. I am an
+old, hardened man of the world, one whom life has taught all its lessons
+to in the sternest fashion. I have been so baffled and beaten, and thrown
+back by all my attempts to think well of the world, that nothing short of
+a dogged resolution not to desert my colors has rescued me from a cold
+misanthropy; and yet, till I saw, I did not believe there was a new pang
+of misery my heart had not tasted. What? it is incredible,&mdash;surely
+that is not she who once was Lucy Dillon,&mdash;that bold-faced woman with
+lustrous eyes and rouged cheeks,&mdash;brilliant, indeed, and beautiful,
+but not the beauty that is allied to the thought of virtue,&mdash;whose
+every look is a wile, whose every action is entanglement. She was leaning
+on a great man's arm, and in the smile she gave him told me how she knew
+to purchase such distinctions. He noticed me, and shook my hand as I
+passed. I heard him tell her who I was; and I heard her say that I had
+been a hanger-on, a sort of dependant of her father's, but she never liked
+me! I tried to laugh, but the pain was too deep. I came away, and saw her
+no more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He ceased speaking, and for some time they walked along side by side
+without a word. At last he broke out: &ldquo;Don't believe the people who say
+that men are taught by anything they experience in life. Outwardly they
+may affect it. They may assume this or that manner. The heart cannot play
+the hypocrite, and no frequency of disaster diminishes the smart. The
+wondrous resemblance Miss Lendrick bears to Lucy Dillon renews to my
+memory the bright days of her early beauty, when her poor father would
+call her to sit down at his feet and read to him, that he might gaze at
+will on her, weaving whole histories of future happiness and joy for her.
+'Is it not like sunshine in the room to see her, Brook?' would he whisper
+to me. 'I only heard her voice as she passed under my window this morning,
+and I forgot some dark thought that was troubling me.' And there was no
+exaggeration in this. The sweet music of her tones &ldquo;vibrated so softly on
+the ear, they soothed the sense, just as we feel soothed by the gentle
+ripple of a stream.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All these times come back to me since I have been here, and I cannot tell
+you how the very sorrow that is associated with them has its power over
+me. Every one knows with what attachment the heart will cling to some
+little spot in a far-away land that reminds one of a loved place at home,&mdash;how
+we delight to bring back old memories, and how we even like to name old
+names, to cheat ourselves back into the past. So it is that I feel when I
+see this girl. The other Lucy was once as my daughter; so, too, do I
+regard her, and with this comes that dreadful sorrow I have told you of,
+giving my interest in her an intensity unspeakable. When I saw Trafford's
+attention to her, the only thing I thought of was how unlike he was to him
+who won the other Lucy. His frank, unaffected bearing, his fine, manly
+trustfulness, the very opposite to the other's qualities, made me his
+friend at once. When I say friend, I mean well-wisher, for my friendship
+now bears no other fruit. Time was when it was otherwise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it, William?&rdquo; cried the vicar, as his servant came hurriedly
+forward.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's a gentleman in the drawing-room, sir, wants to see Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have I your leave?&rdquo; said the old man, bowing low. &ldquo;I 'll join you here
+immediately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Within a few moments he was back again. &ldquo;It was Trafford. He has just got
+a telegram to call him to his regiment. He suspects something has gone
+wrong; and seeing his agitation, I offered to go back with him. We start
+within an hour.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER X. LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN
+</h2>
+<p>
+The vicar having some business to transact in Limerick, agreed to go that
+far with Sir Brook and Trafford, and accompanied them to the railroad to
+see them off.
+</p>
+<p>
+A down train from Dublin arrived as they were waiting, and a passenger,
+descending, hastily hurried after the vicar, and seized his hand. The
+vicar, in evident delight, forgot his other friends for a moment, and
+became deeply interested in the new-comer. &ldquo;We must say good-bye, doctor,&rdquo;
+ said Fossbrooke; &ldquo;here comes our train.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand pardons, my dear Sir Brook. The unlooked-for arrival of my
+friend here&mdash;but I believe you don't know him. Lendrick, come here, I
+want to present you to Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Captain Trafford, Dr.
+Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope these gentlemen are not departing,&rdquo; said Lendrick, with the
+constraint of a bashful man.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is our misfortune to do so,&rdquo; said Sir Brook; &ldquo;but I have passed too
+many happy hours in this neighborhood not to come back to it as soon as I
+can.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope we shall see you. I hope I may have an opportunity of thanking
+you, Sir Brook.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dublin! Dublin! Dublin! get in, gentlemen: first class, this way, sir,&rdquo;
+ screamed a guard, amidst a thundering rumble, a scream, and a hiss. All
+other words were drowned, and with a cordial shake-hands the new friends
+parted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is the younger man his son?&rdquo; asked Lendrick; &ldquo;I did not catch the name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he's Trafford, a son of Sir Hugh Trafford,&mdash;a Lincolnshire man,
+isn't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know. It was of the other I was thinking. I felt it so strange to
+see a man of whom when a boy I used to hear so much. I have an old print
+somewhere of two over-dressed 'Bloods,' as they were called in those days,
+with immense whiskers, styled 'Fossy and Fussy,' meaning Sir Brook and the
+Baron Geramb, a German friend and follower of the Prince.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect a good deal changed since that day, in person as well as
+purse,&rdquo; said the vicar, sadly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed! I heard of his having inherited some immense fortune.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he did, and squandered every shilling of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the chicks are well, you tell me?&rdquo; said Lendrick, whose voice
+softened as he talked of home and his children.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Could n't be better. We had a little picnic on Holy Island yesterday, and
+only wanted yourself to have been perfectly happy. Lucy was for refusing
+at first.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some notion she had that you would n't like it. Some idea about not doing
+in your absence anything that was not usual when you are here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is such a true girl, so loyal,&rdquo; said Lendrick, proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I take the treason on my shoulders. I made her come. It was a
+delightful day, and we drank your health in as good a glass of Madeira as
+ever ripened in the sun. Now for your own news?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First let us get on the road. I am impatient to be back at home again.
+Have you your car here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All is ready, and waiting for you at the gate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As they drove briskly along, Lendrick gave the vicar a detailed account of
+his visit to Dublin. Passing over the first days, of which the reader
+already has heard something, we take up the story from the day on which
+Lendrick learned that his father would see him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My mind was so full of myself, doctor,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;of all the consequences
+which had followed from my father's anger with me, that I had no thought
+of anything else till I entered the room where he was. Then, however, as I
+saw him propped up with pillows in a deep chair, his face pale, his eyes
+colorless, and his head swathed up in a bandage after leeching, my heart
+sickened, alike with sorrow and shame at my great selfishness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had been warned by Beattie on no account to let any show of feeling or
+emotion escape me, to be as cool and collected as possible, and in fact,
+he said, to behave as though I had seen him the day before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Leave the room, Poynder,' said he to his man, 'and suffer no one to
+knock at the door&mdash;mind, not even to knock&mdash;till I ring my
+bell.' He waited till the man withdrew, and then in a very gentle voice
+said, 'How are you, Tom? I can't give you my right hand,&mdash;the
+rebellious member has ceased to know me!' I thought I should choke as the
+words met me; I don't remember what I said, but I took my chair and sat
+down beside him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I thought you might have been too much agitated, Tom, but otherwise I
+should have wished to have had your advice along with Beattie. I believe,
+on the whole, however, he has treated me well.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assured him that none could have done more skilfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The skill of the doctor with an old patient is the skill of an architect
+with an old wall. He must not breach it, or it will tumble to pieces.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Beattie is very able, sir,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'No man is able,' replied he, quickly, 'when the question is to repair
+the wastes of time and years. Draw that curtain, and let me look at you.
+No; stand yonder, where the light is stronger. What! is it my eyes deceive
+me,&mdash;is your hair white?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'It has been so eight years, sir.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'And I had not a gray hair till my seventy-second year,&mdash;not one. I
+told Beattie, t' other day, that the race of the strong was dying out.
+Good heavens, how old you look! Would any one believe in seeing us that
+you could be my son?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I feel perhaps even more than I look it, sir.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I could swear you did. You are the very stamp of those fellows who plead
+guilty&mdash;&ldquo;Guilty, my Lord; we throw ourselves on the mercy of the
+court.&rdquo; I don't know how the great judgment-seat regards these pleas,&mdash;with
+<i>me</i> they meet only scorn. Give me the man who says, &ldquo;Try me, test
+me.&rdquo; Drop that curtain, and draw the screen across the fire. Speak lower,
+too, my dear,' said he, in a weak soft voice; 'you suffer yourself to grow
+excited, and you excite me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I will be more cautious, sir,' said I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'What are these drops he is giving me? They have an acrid sweet taste.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Aconite, sir; a weak solution.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'They say that our laws never forgot feudalism, but I declare I believe
+medicine has never been able to ignore alchemy: drop me out twenty, I see
+that your hand does not shake. Strange thought, is it not, to feel that a
+little phial like that could make a new Baron of the Exchequer? You have
+heard, I suppose, of the attempts&mdash;the indecent attempts&mdash;to
+induce me to resign. You have heard what they say of my age. They quote
+the registry of my baptism, as though it were the date of a conviction. I
+have yet to learn that the years a man has devoted to his country's
+service are counts in the indictment against his character. Age has been
+less merciful to me than to my fellows,&mdash;it has neither made me deaf
+to rancor nor blind to ingratitude. I told the Lord-Lieutenant so
+yesterday.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You saw him then, sir?' asked I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Yes, he was gracious enough to call here; he sent his secretary to ask
+if I would receive a visit from him. I thought that a little more tact
+might have been expected from a man in his station,&mdash;it is the common
+gift of those in high places. I perceive,' added he, after a pause, 'you
+don't see what I mean. It is this: royalties, or mock royalties, for they
+are the same in this, condescend to these visits as deathbed attentions.
+They come to us with their courtesies as the priest comes with his holy
+cruet, only when they have the assurance that we are beyond recovery. His
+Excellency ought to have felt that the man to whom he proposed this
+attention was not one to misunderstand its significance.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Did he remain long, sir?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Two hours and forty minutes. I measured it by my watch.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Was the fatigue not too much for you?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Of course it was; I fainted before he got to his carriage. He twice rose
+to go away, but on each occasion I had something to say that induced him
+to sit down again. It was the whole case of Ireland we reviewed,&mdash;that
+is, I did. I deployed the six millions before him, and he took the salute.
+Yes, sir, education, religious animosities, land-tenure, drainage,
+emigration, secret societies, the rebel priest and the intolerant parson,
+even nationality and mendicant insolence, all marched past, and he took
+the salute! &ldquo;And now, my Lord,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;it is the man who tells you these
+things, who has the courage to tell and the ability to display them, and
+it is this man for whose retirement your Ex-lency is so eager, that you
+have actually deigned to make him a visit, that he may carry away into the
+next world, perhaps, a pleasing memory of this; it is this man, I say,
+whom you propose to replace&mdash;and by what, my Lord, and by whom? Will
+a mere lawyer, will any amount of <i>nisi prius</i> craft or precedent,
+give you the qualities you need on that bench, or that you need, sadly
+need, at this council-board? Go back, my Lord, and tell your colleagues of
+the Cabinet that Providence is more merciful than a Premier, and that the
+same overruling hand that has sustained me through this trial will uphold
+me, I trust, for years to serve my country, and save it for some time
+longer from your blundering legislation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'He stood up, sir, like a prisoner when under sentence; he stood up, sir,
+and as he bowed, I waved my adieu to him as though saying, You have heard
+me, and you are not to carry away from this place a hope, the faintest,
+that any change will come over the determination I have this day declared.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'He went away, and I fainted. The exertion was too long sustained, too
+much for me. I believe, after all,' added he, with a smile, 'his
+Excellency bore it very little better. He told the Archbishop the same
+evening that he'd not go through another such morning for &ldquo;the garter.&rdquo;
+ Men in his station hear so little of truth that it revolts them like
+coarse diet. They 'd rather abstain altogether till forced by actual
+hunger to touch it. When they come to me, however, it is the only fare
+they will find before them.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was a long pause after this,&rdquo; continued Lendrick. &ldquo;I saw that the
+theme had greatly excited him, and I forbore to say a word, lest he should
+be led to resume it. 'Too old for the bench!' burst he out suddenly; 'my
+Lord, there are men who are never too old, as there are those who are
+never too young. The oak is but a sapling when the pine is in decay. Is
+there that glut of intellect just now in England, are we so surfeited with
+ability that, to make room for the coming men, we, who have made our mark
+on the age, must retire into obscurity?' He tried to rise from his seat;
+his face was flushed, and his eyes flashing; he evidently forgot where he
+was, and with whom, for he sank back with a faint sigh, and said, 'Let us
+talk of it no more. Let us think of something else. Indeed, it was to talk
+of something else I desired to see you.' He went on, then, to say that he
+wished something could be done for me. His own means were, he said, sadly
+crippled; he spoke bitterly, resentfully, I thought. 'It is too long a
+story to enter on, and were it briefer, too disagreeable a one,' added he.
+'I ought to be a rich man, and I am poor; I should be powerful, and I have
+no influence. All has gone ill with me.' After a silence, he continued,
+'They have a place to offer you: the inspectorship, I think they call it,
+of hospitals at the Cape; it is worth, altogether, nigh a thousand a year,
+a thing not to be refused.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'The offer could only be made in compliment to you, sir; and if my
+acceptance were to compromise your position&mdash;'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Compromise <i>me!</i>' broke he in. 'I 'll take care it shall not. No
+man need instruct me in the art of self-defence, sir. Accept at once.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I will do whatever you desire, sir,' was my answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Go out there yourself, alone,&mdash;at first, I mean. Let your boy
+continue his college career; the girl shall come to me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I have never been separated from my children, sir,' said I, almost
+trembling with anxiety.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Such separations are bearable,' added he, 'when it is duty dictates
+them, not disobedience.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He fixed his eyes sternly on me, and I trembled as I thought that the
+long score of years was at last come to the reckoning. He did not dwell on
+the theme, however, but in a tone of much gentler meaning, went on: 'It
+will be an act of mercy to let me see a loving face, to hear a tender
+voice. Your boy would be too rough for me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You would like him, sir. He is thoroughly truthful and honest.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'So he may, and yet be self-willed, be noisy, be over-redolent of that
+youth which age resents like outrage. Give me the girl, Tom; let her come
+here, and bestow some of those loving graces on the last hours of my life
+her looks show she should be rich in. For your sake she will be kind to
+me. Who knows what charm there may be in gentleness, even to a
+tiger-nature like mine? Ask her, at least, if she will make the
+sacrifice.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I knew not what to answer. If I could not endure the thought of parting
+from Lucy, yet it seemed equally impossible to refuse his entreaty,&mdash;old,
+friendless, and deserted as he was. I felt, besides, that my only hope of
+a real reconciliation with him lay through this road; deny him this, and
+it was clear he would never see me more. He said, too, it should only be
+for a season. I was to see how the place, the climate, suited for a
+residence. In a word, every possible argument to reconcile me to the
+project rushed to my mind, and I at last said, 'Lucy shall decide, sir. I
+will set out for home at once, and you shall have her own answer.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Uninfluenced, sir,' cried he,&mdash;'mind that. If influence were to be
+used, I could perhaps tell her what might decide her at once; but I would
+not that pity should plead for me, till she should have seen if I be worth
+compassion! There is but one argument I will permit in my favor,&mdash;tell
+her that her picture has been my pleasantest companion these three long
+days. There it lies, always before me. Go now, and let me hear from you as
+soon as may be.' I arose, but somehow my agitation, do what I would,
+mastered me. It was so long since we had met! All the sorrows the long
+estrangement had cost me came to my mind, together with little touches of
+his kindness in long-past years, and I could not speak. 'Poor Tom! poor
+Tom!' said he, drawing me towards him; and he kissed me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As Lendrick said this, emotion overcame him, and he covered his face with
+his hands, and sobbed bitterly. More than a mile of road was traversed
+before a word passed between them. &ldquo;There they are, doctor! There 's Tom,
+there's Lucy! They are coming to meet me,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;Good-bye, doctor;
+you 'll forgive me, I know,&mdash;goodbye;&rdquo; and he sprang off the car as
+he spoke, while the vicar, respecting the sacredness of the joy, wheeled
+his horse round, and drove back towards the town.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XI. CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK
+</h2>
+<p>
+A few minutes after the Adjutant had informed Colonel Cave that Lieutenant
+Traflford had reported himself, Sir Brook entered the Colonel's quarters,
+eager to know what was the reason of the sudden recall of Traflford, and
+whether the regiment had been unexpectedly ordered for foreign service.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Cave, in some confusion. &ldquo;We have had our turn of India and
+the Cape; they can't send us away again for some time. It was purely
+personal; it was, I may say, a private reason. You know,&rdquo; added he, with a
+slight smile, &ldquo;I am acting as a sort of guardian to Trafford just now. His
+family sent him over to me, as to a reformatory.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From everything I have seen of him, your office will be an easy one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I suspect that, so far as mere wildness goes,&mdash;extravagance
+and that sort of thing,&mdash;he has had enough of it; but there are
+mistakes that a young fellow may make in life&mdash;mistakes in judgment&mdash;which
+will damage him more irreparably than all his derelictions against
+morality.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I deny,&mdash;totally, entirely deny. I know what you mean,&mdash;that
+is, I think I know what you mean; and if I guess aright, I am distinctly
+at issue with you on this matter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps I could convince you, notwithstanding. Here's a letter which I
+have no right to show you; it is marked 'Strictly confidential and
+private.' You shall read it,&mdash;nay, you must read it,&mdash;because
+you are exactly the man to be able to give advice on the matter. You like
+Traflford, and wish him well. Read that over carefully, and tell me what
+you would counsel.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Fossbrooke took out his spectacles, and, having seated himself
+comfortably, with his back to the light, began in leisurely fashion to
+peruse the letter. &ldquo;It's his mother who writes,&rdquo; said he, turning to the
+signature,&mdash;&ldquo;one of the most worldly women I ever met. She was a
+Lascelles. Don't you know how she married Trafford?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't remember, if I ever heard.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was her sister that Trafford wanted to marry, but she was ambitious to
+be a peeress; and as Bradbrook was in love with her, she told Sir Hugh, 'I
+have got a sister so like me nobody can distinguish between us. She 'd
+make an excellent wife for you. She rides far better than me, and she is
+n't half so extravagant. I 'll send for her.' She did so, and the whole
+thing was settled in a week.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They have lived very happily together.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course they have. They didn't 'go in,' as the speculators say, for
+enormous profits; they realized very fairly, and were satisfied. I wish
+her handwriting had been more cared for. What's this she says here about a
+subscription?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's supervision,&mdash;the supervision of a parent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Supervision of a fiddlestick! the fellow is six feet one inch high, and
+seven-and-twenty years of age; he's quite beyond supervision. Ah! brought
+back all his father's gout, has he? When will people begin to admit that
+their own tempers have something to say to their maladies? I curse the
+cook who made the mulligatawny, but I forget that I ate two platefuls of
+it. So it's the doctor's daughter she objects to. I wish she saw her. I
+wish <i>you</i> saw her, Cave. You are an old frequenter of courts and
+drawing-rooms. I tell you you have seen nothing like this doctor's
+daughter since Laura Bedingfield was presented, and that was before your
+day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Every one has heard of the Beauty Bedingfield; but she was my mother's
+contemporary.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, her successors have not eclipsed her! This doctor's daughter,
+as your correspondent calls her, is the only rival of her that I have ever
+seen. As to wit and accomplishments, Laura could not compete with Lucy
+Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know her, then?&rdquo; asked the Colonel; and then added, &ldquo;Tell me
+something about the family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With your leave, I will finish this letter first. Ah! here we have the
+whole secret. Lionel Trafford is likely to be that precious prize, an
+eldest son. Who could have thought that the law of entail could sway a
+mother's affections? 'Contract no ties inconsistent with his station.'
+This begins to be intolerable, Cave. I don't think I can go on.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes; read it through.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She asks you if you know any one who knows these Hendrichs or Lendrichs;
+tell her that you do; tell her that your friend is one of those men who
+have seen a good deal of life, heard more, too, than he has seen. She will
+understand that, and that his name is Sir Brook Fossbrooke, who, if
+needed, will think nothing of a journey over to Lincolnshire to afford her
+all the information she could wish for. Say this, Cave, and take my word
+for it, she will put very few more questions to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That would be to avow I had already consulted with you. No, no; I must
+not do that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The wind-up of the epistle is charming. 'I have certainly no reason to
+love Ireland.' Poor Ireland! here is another infliction upon you. Let us
+hope you may never come to know that Lady Trafford cannot love you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, come, Fossbrooke, be just, be fair; there is nothing so very
+unreasonable in the anxiety of a mother that her son, who will have a good
+name and a large estate, should not share them both with a person beneath
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why must she assume that this is the case,&mdash;why take it for granted
+that this girl must be beneath him? I tell you, sir, if a prince of the
+blood had fallen in love with her, it would be a reason to repeal the
+Royal Marriage Act.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, Fossbrooke, I shall begin to suspect that your own heart has
+not escaped scathless,&rdquo; said Cave, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man's face became crimson, but not with anger. As suddenly it grew
+pale; and in a voice of deep agitation he said, &ldquo;When an old man like
+myself lays his homage at her feet, it is not hard to believe how a young
+man might love her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did you come to make this acquaintance?&rdquo; said Cave, anxious to turn
+the conversation into a more familiar channel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We chanced to fail in with her brother on the river. We found him
+struggling with a fish far too large for his tackle, and which at last
+smashed his rod and got away. He showed not alone that he was a perfect
+angler, but that he was a fine-tempered fellow, who accepted his defeat
+manfully and well; he had even a good word for his enemy, sir, and it was
+that which attracted me. Trafford and he, young-men-like, soon understood
+each other; he came into our boat, lunched with us, and asked us home with
+him to tea. There 's the whole story. As to the intimacy that followed, it
+was mostly my own doing. I own to you I never so much as suspected that
+Trafford was smitten by her; he was always with her brother, scarcely at
+all in her company; and when he came to tell me he was in love, I asked
+him how he caught the malady, for I never saw him near the infection. Once
+that I knew of the matter, however, I made him write home to his family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was by your advice, then, that he wrote that letter?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly; I not only advised, I insisted on it,&mdash;I read it, too,
+before it was sent off. It was such a letter as, if I had been the young
+fellow's father, would have made me prouder than to hear he had got the
+thanks of Parliament.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You and I, Fossbrooke, are old bachelors; we are scarcely able to say
+what we should have done if we had had sons.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am inclined to believe it would have made us better, not worse,&rdquo; said
+Fossbrooke, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At all events, as it was at your instigation this letter was written, I
+can't well suggest your name as an impartial person in the transaction,&mdash;I
+mean, as one who can be referred to for advice or information.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't do so, sir, or I shall be tempted to say more than may be prudent.
+Have you never noticed, Cave, the effect that a doctor's presence produces
+in the society of those who usually consult him,&mdash;the reserve,&mdash;the
+awkwardness,&mdash;the constraint,&mdash;the apologetic tone for this or
+that little indiscretion,&mdash;the sitting in the draught or the extra
+glass of sherry? So is it, but in a far stronger degree, when an old man
+of the world like myself comes back amongst those he formerly lived with,&mdash;one
+who knew all their past history, how they succeeded here, how they failed
+there,&mdash;what led the great man of fashion to finish his days in a
+colony, and why the Court beauty married a bishop. Ah, sir, we are the
+physicians who have all these secrets in our keeping. It is ours to know
+what sorrow is covered by that smile, how that merry laugh has but
+smothered the sigh of a heavy heart. It is only when a man has lived to my
+age, with an unfailing memory too, that he knows the real hollowness of
+life,&mdash;all the combinations falsified, all the hopes blighted,&mdash;the
+clever fellows that have turned out failures, or worse than failures,&mdash;the
+lovely women that have made shipwreck through their beauty. It is not
+only, however, that he knows this, but he knows how craft and cunning have
+won where ability and frankness have lost,&mdash;how intrigue and trick
+have done better than genius and integrity. With all this knowledge, sir,
+in their heads, and stout hearts within them, such men as myself have
+their utility in life. They are a sort of walking conscience that cannot
+be ignored. The railroad millionnaire talks less boastfully before him who
+knew him as an errand-boy; the <i>grande dame</i> is less superciliously
+insolent in the presence of one who remembered her in a very different
+character. Take my word for it, Cave, Nestor may have been a bit of a bore
+amongst the young Greeks of fashion, but he had his utility too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But how am I to answer this letter? What advice shall I give her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell her frankly that you have made the inquiry she wished; that the
+young lady, who is as well born as her son, is without fortune, and if her
+personal qualities count for nothing, would be what the world would call a
+'bad match.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that sounds practicable. I think that will do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell her, also, that if she seriously desires that her son should
+continue in the way of that reformation he has so ardently followed for
+some time back, and especially so since he has made the acquaintance of
+this family, such a marriage as this would give her better reasons for
+confidence than all her most crafty devices in match-making and
+settlements.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I can exactly tell her that,&rdquo; said Caver smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell her, then, that if this connection be not to her liking, to withdraw
+her son at once from this neighborhood before this girl should come to
+care for him; for if she should, by heavens! he shall marry her, if every
+acre of the estate were to go to a cousin ten times removed!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Were not these people all strangers to you t' other day, Fossbrooke?&rdquo;
+ said Cave, in something like a tone of reprehension.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So they were. I had never so much as heard of them; but she, this girl,
+has a claim upon my interest, founded on a resemblance so strong that when
+I see her, I live back again in the long past, and find myself in converse
+with the dearest friends I ever had. I vow to Heaven I never knew the
+bitterness of want of fortune till now! I never felt how powerless and
+insignificant poverty can make a man till I desired to contribute to this
+girl's happiness; and if I were not an old worthless wreck,&mdash;shattered
+and unseaworthy,&mdash;I 'd set to work to-morrow to refit and try to make
+a fortune to bestow on her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If Cave was half disposed to banter the old man on what seemed little
+short of a devoted attachment, the agitation of Fossbrooke's manner&mdash;his
+trembling lip, his shaking voice, his changing color&mdash;all warned him
+to forbear, and abstain from what might well have proved a perilous
+freedom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will dine with us at mess, Fossbrooke, won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I shall return at once to Killaloe. I made Dr. Lendrick's
+acquaintance just as I started by the train. I want to see more of him.
+Besides, now that I know what was the emergency that called young Trafford
+up here, I have nothing to detain me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall you see him before you go?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course. I am going over to his quarters now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will not mention our conversation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd like to show you my letter before I send it off. I 'd be glad to
+think it was what you recommended.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Write what you feel to be a fair statement of the case, and if by any
+chance an inclination to partiality crosses you, let it be in favor of the
+young. Take my word for it, Cave, there is a selfishness in age that needs
+no ally. Stand by the sons; the fathers and mothers will take care of
+themselves. Good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XII. A GREAT MAN'S SCHOOLFELLOW
+</h2>
+<p>
+Whether it was that the Chief Baron had thrown off an attack which had
+long menaced him, and whose slow approaches had gradually impaired his
+strength and diminished his mental activity, or whether, as some of his
+&ldquo;friends&rdquo; suggested, that the old man's tenure of life had been renewed by
+the impertinences of the newspapers and the insolent attacks of political
+foes,&mdash;an explanation not by any means far-fetched,&mdash;whatever
+the cause, he came out of his illness with all the signs of renewed vigor,
+and with a degree of mental acuteness that he had not enjoyed for many
+years before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie tells me that this attack has inserted another life in my lease,&rdquo;
+ said he; &ldquo;and I am glad of it. It is right that the men who speculated on
+my death should be reminded of the uncertainty of life by the negative
+proof. It is well, too, that there should be men long-lived enough to
+bridge over periods of mediocrity, and connect the triumphs of the past
+with the coming glories of the future. We are surely not destined to a
+perpetuity of Pendletons and Fitzgibbons?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was thus he discoursed to an old legal comrade,&mdash;who, less gifted
+and less fortunate, still wore his stuff gown, and pleaded for the outer
+bar,&mdash;poor old Billy Haire, the dreariest advocate, and one of the
+honestest fellows that ever carried his bag into court. While nearly all
+of his contemporaries had risen to rank and eminence, Billy toiled on
+through life with small success, liked by his friends, respected by the
+world, but the terror of attorneys, who only saw in him the type of
+adverse decisions and unfavorable verdicts.
+</p>
+<p>
+For forty-odd years had he lived a life that any but himself would have
+deemed martyrdom,&mdash;his law laughed at, his eloquence ridiculed, his
+manner mimicked, jeered at by the bench, quizzed by the bar, sneered at by
+the newspapers, every absurd story tagged to his name, every stupid
+blunder fathered on him, till at last, as it were, by the mere force of
+years, the world came to recognize the incomparable temper that no
+provocation had ever been able to irritate, the grand nature that rose
+above all resentment, and would think better of its fellows than these
+moods of spiteful wit or impertinent drollery might seem to entitle them
+to.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old Judge liked him; he liked his manly simplicity of character, his
+truthfulness, and his honesty; but perhaps more than all these, did he
+like his dulness. It was so pleasant to him to pelt this poor heavy man
+with smart epigrams and pungent sarcasms on all that was doing in the
+world, and see the hopeless effort he made to follow him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Billy, too, had another use; he alone, of all the Chief Baron's friends,
+could tell him what was the current gossip of the hall,&mdash;what men
+thought, or at least what they said of him. The genuine simplicity of
+Haire's nature gave to his revelations a character so devoid of all
+spitefulness,&mdash;it was so evident that, in repeating, he never
+identified himself with his story that Lendrick would listen to words from
+him that, coming from another, his resentment would have repelled with
+indignation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you tell me that the story now is, my whole attack was nothing but
+temper?&rdquo; said the old Judge, as the two men walked slowly up and down on
+the grass lawn before the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not that exactly; but they say that constitutional irritability had much
+to say to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was, in fact, such a seizure as, with a man like yourself, would have
+been a mere nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sure of it, sir; and what more do they say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All sorts of things, which, of course, they know nothing about. Some have
+it that you refused the peerage, others that it was not offered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; said the old man, irritably, while a faint flush tinged his cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They say, too,&rdquo; continued Haire, &ldquo;that when the Viceroy informed you that
+you were not to be made a peer, you said: 'Let the Crown look to it, then.
+The Revenue cases all come to my court; and so long as I sit there, they
+shall never have a verdict.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must have invented that yourself, Billy,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a
+droll malice in his eye. &ldquo;Come, confess it is your own. It is <i>so</i>
+like you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, on my honor,&rdquo; said the other, solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not that I would take it ill, Haire, if you had. When a man has a turn
+for epigram, his friends must extend their indulgence to the humor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you, positively, it is not mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is quite enough; let us talk of something else. By the way, I have a
+letter to show you. I put it in my pocket this morning, to let you see it;
+but, first of all, I must show you the writer,&mdash;here she is.&rdquo; He drew
+forth a small miniature case, and, opening it, handed it to the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a handsome girl! downright beautiful!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My granddaughter, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, I never saw a lovelier face,&rdquo; said Haire. &ldquo;She must be a rare
+cheat if she be not as good as she is beautiful. What a sweet mouth!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The brow is fine; there is a high intelligence about the eyes and the
+temples.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the smile, that little lurking smile, that captivates me. What may
+her age be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Something close on twenty. Now for her letter. Read that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While Haire perused the letter, the old Judge sauntered away, looking from
+time to time at the miniature, and muttering some low inaudible words as
+he went.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I understand it. I am at a loss to catch what she is
+drifting at,&rdquo; said Haire, as he finished the first side of the letter.
+&ldquo;What is she so grateful for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You think the case is one which calls for little gratitude, then. What a
+sarcastic mood you are in this morning, Haire!&rdquo; said the Judge, with a
+malicious twinkle of the eye. &ldquo;Still, there are young ladies in the world
+who would vouchsafe to bear me company in requital for being placed at the
+head of such a house as this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can make nothing of it,&rdquo; said the other, hopelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The case is this,&rdquo; said the Judge, as he drew his arm within the other's.
+&ldquo;Tom Lendrick has beeu offered a post of some value&mdash;some value to a
+man poor as he is&mdash;at the Cape. I have told him that his acceptance
+in no way involves me. I have told those who have offered the place that I
+stand aloof in the whole negotiation,&mdash;that in their advancement of
+my son they establish no claim upon <i>me</i>, I have even said I will
+know nothing whatever of the incident.&rdquo; He paused for some minutes, and
+then went on: &ldquo;I have told Tom, however, if his circumstances were such as
+to dispose him to avail himself of this offer, that&mdash;until he assured
+himself that the place was one to his liking, that it gave a reasonable
+prospect of permanence, that the climate was salubrious, and the society
+not distasteful&mdash;I would take his daughter to live with me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has a son, too, has n't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has, sir, and he fain would have induced me to take <i>him</i> instead
+of the girl; but this I would not listen to. I have not nerves for the
+loud speech and boisterous vitality of a young fellow of four or five and
+twenty. His very vigor would be a standing insult to me, and the fellow
+would know it. When men come to my age, they want a mild atmosphere in
+morals and manners, as well as in climate. My son's physiology has not
+taught him this, doctor though he be.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see,&mdash;I see it all now,&rdquo; said Haire; &ldquo;and the girl, though sorry
+to be separated from her father, is gratified by the thought of becoming a
+tie between him and you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is not in the record, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, sternly. &ldquo;Keep to your
+brief.&rdquo; He took the letter sharply from the other's hand as he spoke. &ldquo;My
+granddaughter has not had much experience of life; but her woman's tact
+has told her that her real difficulty&mdash;her only one, perhaps&mdash;will
+be with Lady Lendrick. She cannot know that Lady Lendrick's authority in
+this house is nothing,&mdash;less than nothing. I would never have invited
+her to come here, had it been otherwise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you apprised Lady Lendrick of this arrangement?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; nor shall I. it shall be for you to do that 'officiously,' as
+the French say, to distinguish from what is called 'officially.' I mean
+you to call upon her and say, in the course of conversation, informally,
+accidentally, that Miss Lendrick's arrival at the Priory has been
+deferred, or that it is fixed for such a date,&mdash;in fact, sir,
+whatever your own nice tact may deem the neatest mode of alluding to the
+topic, leaving to her the reply. You understand me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not so sure that I do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much the better; your simplicity will be more inscrutable than your
+subtlety, Haire. I can deal with the one&mdash;the other masters me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare frankly I don't like the mission. I was never, so to say, a
+favorite with her Ladyship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Neither was I, sir,&rdquo; said the other, with a peremptory loudness that was
+almost startling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hadn't you better intimate it by a few lines in a note? Had n't you
+better say that, having seen your son during his late visit to town, and
+learnt his intention to accept a colonial appointment&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All this would be apologetic, sir, and must not be thought of. Don't you
+know, Haire, that every unnecessary affidavit is a flaw in a man's case?
+Go and see her; your very awkwardness will imply a secret, and she 'll be
+so well pleased with her acuteness in discovering the mystery, she 'll
+half forget its offence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me clearly understand what I' ve got to do. I 'm to tell her or to
+let her find out that you have been reconciled to your son Tom?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is not a word of reconciliation, sir, in all your instructions. You
+are to limit yourself to the statement that touches my granddaughter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well; it will be so much the easier. I'm to say, then, that you have
+adopted her, and placed her at the head of your house; that she is to live
+here in all respects as its mistress?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He paused; and as the Judge bowed a concurrence, he went on: &ldquo;Of course
+you will allow me to add that I was never consulted; that you did not ask
+my opinion, and that I never gave one?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are at liberty to, say all this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would even say that I don't exactly see how the thing will work. A very
+young girl, with of course a limited experience of life, will have no
+common difficulties in dealing with a world so new and strange,
+particularly without the companionship of one of her own sex.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot promise to supply that want, but she shall see as much of <i>you</i>
+as possible.&rdquo; And the words were uttered with a blended courtesy and
+malice, of which he was perfect master. Poor Haire, however, only saw the
+complimentary part, and hurriedly pledged himself to be at Miss Lendrick's
+orders at all times.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come and let me show you how I mean to lodge her. I intend her to feel a
+perfect independence of me and my humors. We are to see each other from
+inclination, not constraint: I intend, sir that we should live on good
+terms; and as the Church will have nothing to say to the compact, it is
+possible it may succeed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;These rooms are to be hers,&rdquo; said he, opening a door which offered a <i>vista</i>
+through several handsomely furnished rooms, all looking out upon a neatly
+kept flower-garden. &ldquo;Lady Lendrick, I believe, had long since destined
+them for a son and daughter-in-law of hers, who are on their way home from
+India. The plan will be now all the more difficult of accomplishment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which will not make my communication to her the pleasanter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But redound so much the more to the credit of your adroitness, Haire, if
+you succeed. Come over here this evening and report progress.&rdquo; And with
+this he nodded an easy good-bye, and strolled down the garden.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't envy Haire his brief in this case,&rdquo; muttered he. &ldquo;He'll not have
+the 'court with him,' that's certain;&rdquo; and he laughed spitefully to
+himself as he went.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIII. LAST DAYS
+</h2>
+<p>
+It may seem a hardship, but not improbably it is in its way an
+alleviation, that we are never involved in any of the great trials in life
+without having to deal with certain material embarrassments, questions of
+vulgar interest which concern our pockets and affect our finances.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Lendrick's was a case in point. He was about to leave his country,&mdash;to
+tear himself from a home he had embellished,&mdash;to separate from his
+children that he loved so dearly, to face a new life in a new land,
+friendless and alone; and with all these cares on his heart, he had
+creditors to satisfy, debts to insure payment of by security, and, not
+least of his troubles, his house to relet. Now, the value the world sets
+on that which is not for sale is very unlike its estimate for the same
+commodity when brought to market. The light claret your friend pronounced
+a very pleasant little wine at your own table, he would discover, when
+offered for purchase, to be poor, washy, and acrid. The horse you had left
+him, and whose performance he had encomiumized, if put up to auction,
+would be found spavined, or windgalled, or broken-down. Such a stern test
+is money, so fearfully does its coarse jingle jar upon all the music of
+flattery, and make discord of all compliment. To such a pitch is the
+process carried, that even pretty women, who as wives were objects of
+admiration to despairing and disappointed adorers, have become, by
+widowhood, very ordinary creatures, simply because they are once more &ldquo;in
+the market.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It is well for us that heaven itself was not in the &ldquo;Price Current,&rdquo; or we
+might have begun to think lightly of it. At all events we 'd have higgled
+about the cost, and tried to get there as cheaply as might be.
+</p>
+<p>
+From the day that the Swan's Nest appeared in the Dublin papers &ldquo;to be let
+furnished, for the three years of an unexpired term,&rdquo; Lendrick was
+besieged by letters and applications. All the world apparently wanted the
+place, but wanted it in some way or other quite out of his power to
+accord. One insisted on having it unfurnished, and for a much longer
+period than he could give. Another desired more land, and the right of
+shooting over several hundred additional acres. A third would like the
+house and garden, but would not burden himself with the lawn, and could
+not see why Lendrick might not continue to hold the meadow-land, and come
+back from the Cape or anywhere else to mow the grass and rick it in due
+season.
+</p>
+<p>
+A schoolmistress proposed he should build a dormitory for thirty young
+ladies, and make the flower-garden into a playground; and a miller from
+Limerick inquired whether he was willing to join in a suit to establish a
+right of water-power by diverting a stream from the Shannon through the
+dining-room to turn an undershot wheel.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was marvellous with what patience and courtesy Lendrick replied to
+these and such-like, politely assuring the writers how he regretted his
+inability to meet their wishes, and modestly confessing that he had
+neither the money nor the time to make his house other than it was.
+</p>
+<p>
+All these, however, were as nothing to his trials when the day arrived
+when the house and grounds, in the language of the advertisement, were &ldquo;on
+view,&rdquo; and the world of the curious and idle were free to invade the
+place, stroll at will through rooms and gardens, comment and criticise not
+merely the objects before them, but the taste and the fortunes, the habits
+and the lives of those who had made this their home, and these things part
+of their own natures.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a half-jesting humor, but really to save Lendrick from a mortification
+which, to a nature timid and sensitive as his, would have been torture,
+Sir Brook and Tom agreed to divide the labors of ciceroneship between
+them; the former devoting his attentions to the house and furniture, while
+Tom assumed the charge of grounds and gardens. To complete the
+arrangement, Lendrick and Lucy were banished to a small summer-house, and
+strictly enjoined never to venture abroad so long as the stranger horde
+overran the territory.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, my dear, I almost think the remedy worse than the disease,&rdquo;
+ said Lendrick to his daughter, as he paced with short feverish steps the
+narrow limits of his prison-house. &ldquo;This isolation here has something
+secret, something that suggests shame about it. I think I could almost
+rather face all the remarks our visitors might make than sit down here to
+fancy and brood over them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect not, dearest papa; I believe the plan will spare us much that
+might pain us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;After all, child, these people have a right to be critical, and they are
+not bound to know by what associations you and I are tied to that old
+garden-seat or that bookstand, and we ought to be able to avoid showing
+them this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps we ought, papa; but could we do so? that's-the question.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Surely the tradesman affects no such squeamishness about what he offers
+for sale.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;True, papa; because none of his wares have caught any clew to his
+identity. They have never been his in the sense which makes possession
+pleasure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish they would not laugh without there; their coarse laughter sounds
+to me so like vulgar ridicule. I hardly thought all this would have made
+me so irritable; even the children's voices jar on my nerves.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He turned away his head, but her eyes followed him, and two heavy tears
+stole slowly along her cheek, and her lip quivered as she looked.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, they are going away,&rdquo; said he, listening; &ldquo;I am better now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's right, dearest papa; I knew it was a mere passing pang,&rdquo; said
+she, drawing her arm within his, and walking along at his side. &ldquo;How kind
+Sir Brook is!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How kind every one, we might say. Poor Mills is like a brother, and Tobin
+too,&mdash;I scarcely expected so much heart from him. He gave me his old
+lancet-case as a keepsake yesterday, and I declare his voice trembled as
+he said good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As for the poor people, I hear, papa, that one would think they had lost
+their nearest and dearest. Molly Dew says they were crying in her house
+this morning over their breakfast as if it was a funeral.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it not strange, Lucy, that what touches the heart so painfully should
+help to heal the pang it gives? There is that in all this affection for us
+that gladdens while it grieves. All,&mdash;all are so kind to us! That
+young fellow&mdash;Trafford I think his name is&mdash;he was waiting at
+the post for his letters this morning when I came up, and it seems that
+Foss-brooke had told him of my appointment,&mdash;indiscreet of him, for I
+would not wish it talked of; but Trafford turned to him and said, 'Ask Dr.
+Lendrick, is he decided about going;' and when he heard that I was, he
+scarcely said goodbye, but jumped into a cab, and drove off full speed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'What does that mean?' asked I.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'He was so fond of Tom,' said Fossbrooke, 'they were never separate this
+last month or five weeks;' so you see, darling, each of us has his sphere
+of love and affection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy was crimson over face and neck, but never spoke a word. Had she
+spoken it would have been, perhaps, to corroborate Sir Brook, and to say
+how fond the young men were of each other. I do not affirm this, I only
+hint that it is likely. Where there are blanks in this narrative, the
+reader has as much right to fill them as myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Brook,&rdquo; continued Lendrick, &ldquo;thinks well of the young man; but for my
+own part I hardly like to see Tom in close companionship with one so much
+his superior in fortune. He is easily led, and has not yet learned that
+stern lesson in life, how to confess that there are many things he has no
+pretension to aspire to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tom loves you too sincerely, papa, ever to do that which would seriously
+grieve you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He would not deliberately,&mdash;he would not in cold blood, Lucy; but
+young men, when together, have not many moods of deliberation or cold
+blood. But let us not speculate on trouble that may never come. It is
+enough for the present that he and Trafford are separated, if Trafford was
+even likely to lead him into ways of extravagance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What 's that! Is n't it, Tom? He's laughing heartily at something. Yes;
+here he comes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may come out; the last of them has just driven off,&rdquo; cried Tom,
+knocking at the door, while he continued to laugh on immoderately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it, Tom? What are you laughing at?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You should have seen it; it's nothing to tell, but it was wonderful to
+witness. I'll never forget it as long as I live.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what was it?&rdquo; asked she, impatiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought we had fully done with all our visitors,&mdash;and a rum set
+they were, most of them, not thinking of taking the place, but come out of
+mere curiosity,&mdash;when who should drive up with two postilions and
+four spicy grays but Lady Drumcarran and a large party, three horsemen
+following? I just caught the word 'Excellency,' and found out from one of
+the servants that a tall old man with white hair and very heavy eyebrows
+was the Lord-Lieutenant. He stooped a good deal, and walked tenderly; and
+as the Countess was most eager about the grounds and the gardens, they
+parted company very soon, he going into the house to sit down, while she
+prosecuted her inquiries without doors.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I took him into the library; we had a long chat about fishing, and
+fish-curing, and the London markets, and flax, and national education, and
+land-tenure, and such-like. Of course I affected not to know who he was,
+and I took the opportunity to say scores of impertinences about the
+stupidity of the Castle, and the sort of men they send over here to govern
+us; and he asked me if I was destined for any career or profession, and I
+told him frankly that whenever I took up anything I always was sure to
+discover it was the one very thing that didn't suit me; and as I made this
+unlucky discovery in law, medicine, and the Church, I had given up my
+college career, and was now in a sort of interregnal period, wondering
+what it was to be next. I did n't like to own that the <i>res angusto</i>
+had anything to say to it. It was no business of his to know about that.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'You surely have friends able and willing to suggest something that would
+fit you,' said he. 'Is not the Chief Baron your grandfather?'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Yes, and he might make me crier of his court; but I think he has
+promised the reversion to his butler. The fact is, I 'd not do over well
+with any fixed responsibilities attached to me. I 'd rather be a guerilla
+than serve in the regulars, and so I 'll just wait and see if something
+won't turn up in that undisciplined force I 'd like to serve with.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I 'll give you my name,' said he, 'before we part, and possibly I may
+know some one who might be of use to you.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thanked him coolly, and we talked of something else, when there came a
+short plump little fellow, all beard and gold chains, to say that Lady
+Drumcarran was waiting for him. 'Tell her I'm coming,' said he; 'and,
+Balfour,' he cried out, 'before you go away, give this gentleman my
+address, and if he should call, take care that I see him.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Balfour eyed me, and I eyed him, with, I take it, pretty much the same
+result, which said plainly enough, 'You 're not the man for me.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'What in heaven's name is this?' cried the Viceroy, as he got outside and
+saw Lady Drumcarran at the head of a procession carrying plants, slips,
+and flower-pots down to the carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Her Ladyship has made a raid amongst the greeneries,' said Balfour, 'and
+tipped the head-gardener, that tall fellow there with the yellow
+rose-tree; as the place is going to be sold, she thought she might well do
+a little genteel pillage.' Curious to see who our gardener could be, all
+the more that he was said to be 'tall,' I went forward, and what do you
+think I saw? Sir Brook, with a flower-pot under one arm, and a quantity of
+cuttings under the other, walking a little after the Countess, who was
+evidently giving him ample directions as to her intentions. I could
+scarcely refrain from an outburst of laughing, but I got away into the
+shrubbery and watched the whole proceedings. I was too far off to hear,
+but this much I saw. Sir Brook had deposited his rose-tree and his slips
+on the rumble, and stood beside the carriage with his hat off. When his
+Excellency came up, a sudden movement took place in the group, and the
+Viceroy, seeming to push his way through the others, cried out something I
+could not catch, and then grasped Sir Brook's hand with both his own. All
+was tumult in a moment. My Lady, in evident confusion and shame,&mdash;that
+much I could see,&mdash;was courtesying deeply to Sir Brook, who seemed
+not to understand her apologies&mdash;, at least, he appeared stately and
+courteous, as usual, and not in the slightest degree put out or chagrined
+by the incident. Though Lady Drumcarran was profuse of her excuses, and
+most eager to make amends for her mistake, the Viceroy took Sir Brook's
+arm and led him off to a little distance, where they talked together for a
+few moments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'It's a promise, then, Fossbrooke,&mdash;you promise me!' cried he aloud,
+as he approached the carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Rely upon me,&mdash;and within a week, or ten days at farthest,' said
+Sir Brook, as they drove away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not seen him since, and I scarcely know if I shall be able to meet
+him without laughing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here he comes,&rdquo; cried Lucy; &ldquo;and take care, Tom, that you do nothing that
+might offend him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The caution was so far unnecessary that Sir Brook's manner, as he drew
+near, had a certain stately dignity that invited no raillery.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have been detained a long time a prisoner, Dr. Len-drick,&rdquo; said
+Fossbrooke, calmly; &ldquo;but your visitors were so charmed with all they saw
+that they lingered on, unwilling to take their leave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tom tells me we had some of our county notabilities,&mdash;Lord and Lady
+Drumcarran, the Lacys, and others,&rdquo; said Lendrick.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; and the Lord-Lieutenant, too, whom I used to know at Christ Church.
+He would have been well pleased to have met you. He told me your father
+was the ablest and most brilliant talker he ever knew.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! we are very unlike,&rdquo; said Lendrick, blushing modestly. &ldquo;Did he give
+any hint as to whether his party are pleased or the reverse with my
+father's late conduct?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He only said, 'I wish you knew him, Fossbrooke; I sincerely wish you knew
+him, if only to assure him that he will meet far more generous treatment
+from us than from the Opposition.' He added that we were men to suit each
+other; and this, of course, was a flattery for which I am very grateful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the tall man with the stoop was the Lord-Lieutenant?&rdquo; asked Tom. &ldquo;I
+passed half an hour or more with him in the library, and he invited me to
+call upon him, and told a young fellow, named Balfour, to give me his
+address, which he forgot to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We can go together, if you have no objection; for I, too, have promised
+to pay my respects,&rdquo; said Sir Brook.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tom was delighted at the suggestion, but whispered in his sister's ear, as
+they passed out into the garden, &ldquo;I thought I 'd have burst my sides
+laughing when I met him; but it's the very last thing in my thoughts now.
+I declare I 'd as soon pull a tiger's whiskers as venture on the smallest
+liberty with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think you are right, Tom,&rdquo; said she, squeezing his arm affectionately,
+to show that she not alone agreed with him, but was pleased that he had
+given her the opportunity of doing so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder is he telling the governor what happened this morning? It can
+scarcely be that, though, they look so grave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa seems agitated too,&rdquo; said Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I just caught Trafford's name as they passed. I hope he 's not saying
+anything against him. It is not only that Lionel Trafford is as good a
+fellow as ever lived, but that he fully believes Fossbrooke likes him. I
+don't think he could be so false; do you, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm certain he is not. There, papa is beckoning to you; he wants you;&rdquo;
+ and Lucy turned hurriedly away, anxious to conceal her emotion, for her
+cheeks were burning, and her lips trembled with agitation.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIV. TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was decided on that evening that Sir Brook and Tom should set out for
+Dublin the next morning. Lucy knew not why this sudden determination had
+been come to, and Tom, who never yet had kept a secret from her, was now
+reserved and uncommunicative. Nor was it merely that he held aloof his
+confidence, but he was short and snappish in his manner, as though she had
+someway vexed him, and vexed him in some shape that he could not openly
+speak of or resent.
+</p>
+<p>
+This was very new to her from him, and yet how was it? She had not courage
+to ask for an explanation. Tom was not exactly one of those people of whom
+it was pleasant to ask explanations., Where the matter to be explained
+might be one of delicacy, he had a way of abruptly blurting out the very
+thing one would have desired might be kept back. Just as an awkward
+surgeon will tear off the dressing, and set a wound a-bleeding, would he
+rudely destroy the work of time in healing by a moment of rash impatience.
+It was knowing this&mdash;knowing it well&mdash;that deterred Lucy from
+asking what might lead to something not over-agreeable to hear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I pack your portmanteau, Tom?&rdquo; asked she. It was a task that always
+fell to her lot.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; Nicholas can do it,&mdash;any one can do it,&rdquo; said he, as he mumbled
+with an unlit cigar between his teeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You used to say I always did it best, Tom,&mdash;that I never forgot
+anything,&rdquo; said she, caressingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps I did,&mdash;perhaps I thought so. Look here, Lucy,&rdquo; said he, as
+though by an immense effort he had got strength to say what he wanted, &ldquo;I
+am half vexed with you, if not more than half.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Vexed with me, Tom,&mdash;vexed with <i>me!</i> and for what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think that you need ask. I am inclined to believe that you know
+perfectly well what I mean, and what I would much rather not say, if you
+will only let me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not,&rdquo; said she, slowly and deliberately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean to say, Lucy,&rdquo; said he, and his manner was almost stern as he
+spoke, &ldquo;that you have no secrets from me, that you are as frank and
+outspoken with me today as you were three months ago?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then what's the meaning of this letter?&rdquo; cried he, as, carried away by a
+burst of passion, he overstepped all the prudential reserve he had sworn
+to himself to regard. &ldquo;What does this mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing of that letter, nor what it contains,&rdquo; said she, blushing
+till her very brow became crimson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't suppose you do, for though it is addressed to you, the seal is
+unbroken; but you know whose handwriting it's in, and you know that you
+have had others from the same quarter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the writing is Mr. Trafford's,&rdquo; said she, as a deathlike
+paleness spread over her face, &ldquo;because he himself once asked me to read a
+letter from him in the same handwriting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which you did?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I refused. I handed the letter back to him unopened, and said that,
+as I certainly should not write to him without my father's knowledge and
+permission, I would not read a letter from him without the same.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what was the epistle, then, that the vicar's housekeeper handed him
+from you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That same letter I have spoken of. He left it on my table, insisting and
+believing that on second thoughts I would read it. He thought so because
+it was not to me, though addressed to me, but the copy of a letter he had
+written to his mother, about me certainly.&rdquo; Here she blushed deeply again.
+&ldquo;As I continued, however, of the same mind, determined not to see what the
+letter contained, I re-enclosed it and gave it to Mrs. Brennan to hand to
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all this you kept a secret from me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was not my secret. It was his. It was his till such time as he could
+speak of it to my father, and this he told me had not yet come.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never asked him that. I do not think, Tom,&rdquo; said she, with much
+emotion, &ldquo;it was such a question as you would have had me ask.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you love&mdash;Come, darling Lucy, don't be angry with me. I never
+meant to wound your feelings. Don't sob that way, my dear, dear Lucy. You
+know what a rough coarse fellow I am; but I'd rather die than offend you.
+Why did you not tell me of all this? I never liked any one so well as
+Trafford, and why leave me to the chance of misconstruing him? Would n't
+it have been the best way to have trusted me as you always have?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't see what there was to have confided to you. Mr. Trafford might,
+if he wished. I mean, that if there was a secret at all. I don't know what
+I mean,&rdquo; cried she, covering her face with her handkerchief, while a
+convulsive motion of her shoulders showed how she was moved.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am as glad as if I had got a thousand pounds, to know you have been so
+right, so thoroughly right, in all this, Lucy; and I am glad, too, that
+Trafford has done nothing to make me think less well of him. Let's be
+friends; give me your hand, like a dear, good girl, and forgive me if I
+have said what pained you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not angry, Tom,&rdquo; said she, giving her hand, but with her head still
+averted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;God knows it's not the time for us to fall out,&rdquo; said he, with a shaking
+voice. &ldquo;Going to separate as we are, and when to be together again not so
+easy to imagine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are surely going out with papa?&rdquo; asked she, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; they say not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who says not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The governor himself&mdash;Sir Brook&mdash;old Mills&mdash;everybody, in
+fact. They have held a committee of the whole house on it. I think
+Nicholas was present too; and it has been decided that as I am very much
+given to idleness, bitter beer, and cigars, I ought not to be anywhere
+where these ingredients compose the chief part of existence. Now the Cape
+is precisely one of these places; and if you abstract the idleness, the
+bitter beer, and the tobacco, there is nothing left but a little
+Hottentotism, which is neither pleasant nor profitable. Voted, therefore,
+I am not to go to the Cape. It is much easier, however, to open the
+geography books, and show all the places I am unfit for, than to hit upon
+the one that will suit me. And so I am going up to Dublin to-morrow with
+Sir Brook to consult&mdash;I don't well know whom, perhaps a
+fortune-teller&mdash;what 's to be done with me. All I do know is, I am to
+see my grandfather, and to wait on the Viceroy, and I don't anticipate
+that any of us will derive much pleasure from either event.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom! what happiness it would be to me if grandpapa&mdash;&rdquo; She
+stopped, blushed, and tried in vain to go on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which is about the least likely thing in the world, Lucy,&rdquo; said he,
+answering her unspoken sentence. &ldquo;I am just the sort of creature he could
+n't abide,&mdash;not to add that, from all I have heard of him, I 'd
+rather take three years with hard labor at the hulks than live with him.
+It will do very well with you. You have patience, and a soft forgiving
+disposition. You 'll fancy yourself, besides, Heaven knows what of a
+heroine, for submitting to his atrocious temper, and imagine slavery to be
+martyrdom. Now, I could n't. I 'd let him understand that I was one of the
+family, and had a born right to be as ill-tempered, as selfish, and as
+unmannerly as any other Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But if he should like you, Tom? If you made a favorable impression upon
+him when you met?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I should, I think I 'd go over to South Carolina, and ask some one to
+buy me as a negro, for I 'd know in my heart it was all I could be fit
+for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my dear, dear Tom, I wish you would meet him in a different spirit,
+if only for poor papa's sake. You know what store he lays by grandpapa's
+affection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see it, and it puzzles me. If any one should continue to ill-treat me
+for five-and-twenty years, I 'd not think of beginning to forgive him till
+after fifty more, and I 'm not quite sure I 'd succeed then.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you are to meet him, Tom,&rdquo; said she, hopefully. &ldquo;I trust much to your
+meeting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's more than I do, Lucy. Indeed, I 'd not go at all, except on the
+condition which I have made with myself, to accept nothing from him. I had
+not meant to tell you this; but it has escaped me, and can't be helped.
+Don't hang your head and pout your lip over that bad boy, brother Tom. I
+intend to be as submissive and as humble in our interview as if I was
+going to owe my life to him, just because I want him to be very kind and
+gracious to you; and I 'd not wish to give him any reason for saying harsh
+things of me, which would hurt you to listen to. If I only knew how&mdash;and
+I protest I do not&mdash;I'd even try and make a favorable impression upon
+him, for I 'd like to be able to come and see you, Lucy, now and then, and
+it would be a sore blow to me if he forbade me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't think I'd remain under his roof if he should do so?&rdquo; asked she,
+indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not if you saw him turn me away,&mdash;shutting the door in my face; but
+what scores of civil ways there are of intimating that one is not welcome!
+But why imagine all these?&mdash;none of them may happen; and, as Sir
+Brook says, the worst misfortunes of life are those that never come to us;
+and I, for one, am determined to deal only with real, actual, present
+enemies. Is n't he a rare old fellow?&mdash;don't you like him, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like him greatly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He loves you, Lucy,&mdash;he told me so; he said you were so like a girl
+whose godfather he was, and that he had loved her as if she were his own.
+Whether she had died, or whether something had happened that estranged
+them, I could n't make out; but he said you had raised up some old
+half-dead embers in his heart, and kindled a flame where he had thought
+all was to be cold forever; and the tears came into his eyes, and that
+great deep voice of his grew fainter and fainter, and something that
+sounded like a sob stopped him. I always knew he was a brave,
+stout-hearted, gallant fellow; but that he could feel like this I never
+imagined. I almost think it was some girl he was going to be married to
+once that you must be so like. Don't you think so?&rdquo; &ldquo;I don't know; I
+cannot even guess,&rdquo; said she, slowly. &ldquo;It's not exactly the sort of nature
+where one would expect to find much sentiment; but, as he said one day,
+some old hearts are like old chateaux, with strange old chambers in them
+that none have traversed for years and years, and with all the old
+furniture moth-eaten and crumbling, but standing just where it used to be.
+I 'd not wonder if it was of himself he was speaking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She remained silent and thoughtful, and he went on,&mdash;&ldquo;There's a deal
+of romance under that quaint stern exterior. What do you think he said
+this morning?&mdash;'Your father's heart is wrapped up in this place, Tom;
+let us set to work to make money and buy it for him. 'I did not believe he
+was serious, and I said some stupid nonsense about a diamond necklace and
+ear-rings for you on the day of presentation; and he turned upon me with a
+fierce look, and in a voice trembling with anger, said, 'Well, sir, and
+whom would they become better? Is it her birth or her beauty would
+disparage them, if they were the jewels of a crown?' I know I 'll not
+cross another whim of his in the same fashion again; though he came to my
+room afterwards to make an apology for the tone in which he had spoken,
+and assured me it should never be repeated.&rdquo; &ldquo;I hope you told him you had
+not felt offended.&rdquo; &ldquo;I did more,&mdash;I did, at least, what pleased him
+more,&mdash;I said I was delighted with that plan of his about buying up
+the Nest, and that the very thought gave a zest to any pursuit I might
+engage in; and so, Lucy, it is settled between us that if his Excellency
+won't make me something with a fine salary and large perquisites, Sir
+Brook and I are to set out I'm not very sure where, and we are to do I'm
+not quite certain what; but two such clever fellows, uniting experience
+with energy, can't fail, and the double event&mdash;I mean the estate and
+the diamonds&mdash;are just as good as won already. Well, what do you
+want, Nicholas?&rdquo; cried Tom, as the grim old man put his head inside the
+door and retired again, mumbling something as he went. &ldquo;Oh, I remember it
+now; he has been tormenting the governor all day about getting him some
+place,&mdash;some situation or other; and the old rascal thinks we are the
+most ungrateful wretches under the sun, to be so full of our own affairs
+and so forgetful of his: we are certainly not likely to leave him
+unprovided for; he can't imagine that. Here he comes again. My father is
+gone into Killaloe, Nicholas; but don't be uneasy, he 'll not forget you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Forgettin's one thing, Master Tom, and rememberin's the right way is
+another,&rdquo; said Nicholas, sternly. &ldquo;I told him yesterday, and I repeated it
+to-day, I won't go among them Hottentots.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has he asked you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did he ask me?&rdquo; repeated the old man, leaning forward and eying him
+fiercely,&mdash;&ldquo;did he ask me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My brother means, Nicholas, that papa could n't expect you to go so far
+away from your home and your friends.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where's my home and my friends?&rdquo; cried the irascible old fellow; &ldquo;and
+I forty-eight years in the family? Is that the way to have a home or
+friends either?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Tom, no,&mdash;I entreat&mdash;I beg of you,&rdquo; said Lucy, standing
+between her brother and the old man, and placing her hand on Tom's lips;
+&ldquo;you know well that he can't help it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's just it,&rdquo; cried Nicholas, catching the words; &ldquo;I can't help it. I
+'m too old to help it. It is n't after eight-and-forty years one ought to
+be looking out for new sarvice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa hopes that grandpapa will have no objection to taking you, Nicholas;
+he means to write about it to-day; but if there should be a difficulty, he
+has another place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe I'm to 'list and be a sodger; faix, it wouldn't be much worse than
+going back to your grandfather.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, you discontented old fool,&rdquo; burst in Tom, &ldquo;have n't you been teasing
+our souls out these ten years back by your stories of the fine life you
+led in the Chief Baron's house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The eatin' was better, and the drinkin' was better,&rdquo; said Nicholas,
+resolutely. &ldquo;Wherever the devil it comes from, the small beer here bangs
+Banagher; but for the matter of temper he was one of yourselves! and by my
+sowl, it's a family not easily matched!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I agree with you; any other man than my father would have pitched you
+neck and crop into the Shannon years ago,&mdash;I 'll be shot if I would
+n't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mind them words. What you said there is a threat; it's what the law makes
+a constructive threat, and we 'll see what the Coorts say to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, Nicholas, you would provoke any one; you will let no one be
+your friend,&rdquo; said Lucy; and taking her brother's arm she led him away,
+while the old man, watching them till they entered the shrubbery, seated
+himself leisurely in a deep arm-chair, and wiped the perspiration from his
+forehead. &ldquo;By my conscience,&rdquo; muttered he, &ldquo;it takes two years off my life
+every day I have to keep yez in order.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XV. MR. HAIRE'S MISSION.
+</h2>
+<p>
+Although the Chief Baron had assured Haire that his mission had no
+difficulty about it, that he 'd find her Ladyship would receive him in a
+very courteous spirit, and, finally, that &ldquo;he'd do the thing&rdquo; admirably,
+the unhappy little lawyer approached his task with considerable
+misgivings, which culminated in actual terror as he knocked at the door of
+the house where Lady Lendrick resided in Merrion Square, and sent up his
+name.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The ladies are still in committee, sir,&rdquo; said a bland-looking, usher-like
+personage, who, taking up Haire's card from the salver, scanned the name
+with a half-supercilious look.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In committee! ah, indeed, I was not aware,&rdquo; stammered out Haire. &ldquo;I
+suspect&mdash;that is&mdash;I have reason to believe her Ladyship is aware&mdash;I
+mean my name is not unknown to Lady Lendrick&mdash;would you kindly
+present my card?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take it up, Bates,&rdquo; said the man in black, and then turned away to
+address another person, for the hall was crowded with people of various
+conditions and ranks, and who showed in their air and manner a something
+of anxiety, if not of impatience.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. MacClean,&mdash;where's Mr. MacClean?&rdquo; cried a man in livery, as he
+held forth a square-shaped letter. &ldquo;Is Mr. MacClean there?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I'm Mr. MacClean,&rdquo; said a red-faced, fussy-looking man. &ldquo;I'm Mr.
+George Henry MacClean, of 41 Mount Street.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Two tickets for Mr. MacClean,&rdquo; said the usher, handing him the letter
+with a polite bow.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Nolan, Balls Bridge,&mdash;does any one represent Mr. Nolan of Balls
+Bridge?&rdquo; said the usher, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's me,&rdquo; said a short man, who wiped the perspiration from his face
+with a red-spotted handkerchief, as large as a small bed-quilt,&mdash;&ldquo;that's
+me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The references not satisfactory, Mr. Nolan,&rdquo; said the usher, reading from
+a paper in his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not satisfactory?&mdash;what do you mean? Is Peter Arkins, Esquire, of
+Clontarf, unsatisfactory? Is Mr. Ryland, of Abbey Street, unsatisfactory?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am really, sir, unable to afford you the explanation you desire. I am
+simply deputed by her Ladyship to return the reply that I find written
+here. The noise is really so great here I can hear nothing. Who are you
+asking for, Bates?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Mortimer O'Hagan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's gone away,&rdquo; cried a voice; &ldquo;he was here since eleven o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Application refused. Will some one tell Mr. O'Hagan his application is
+refused?&rdquo; said the usher, austerely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Might I be bold enough to ask what is going forward?&rdquo; whispered Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. W. Haire, Ely Place,&rdquo; shouted out the man in livery. &ldquo;Card refused
+for want of a reference.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought to have sent up two names,&mdash;well-known names, Mr. Haire,&rdquo;
+ said the usher, with a politeness that seemed marked. &ldquo;It's not too late
+yet; let me see,&rdquo; and he looked at his watch, &ldquo;we want a quarter to one;
+be back here in half an hour. Take a car,&mdash;you 'll find one at the
+door. Get your names, and I 'll see if I can't do it for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am afraid I don't understand you, and I am sure you don't understand
+me. I came here by appointment&mdash;&rdquo; The rest of the sentence was lost
+by a considerable bustle and movement that now ensued, for a number of
+ladies descended the stairs, chatting and laughing freely; while servants
+rushed hither and thither, calling up carriages, or inquiring for others
+not yet come. The usher, frantically pushing the crowd aside to clear a
+path for the ladies, was profuse of apologies for the confusion; adding at
+the same time that &ldquo;it was twice as bad an hour ago. There were n't less
+than two hundred here this morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A number of little pleasantries passed as the bland usher handed the
+ladies to their carriages; and it was evident by their laughter that his
+remarks were deemed pungent and witty. Meanwhile the hall was becoming
+deserted. The persons who had crowded there, descending singly or in
+groups, went their several ways, leaving Haire the only one behind. &ldquo;And
+now, sir,&rdquo; said the usher, &ldquo;you see it's all over. You would n't take my
+advice. They are all gone, and it's the last meeting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you favor me so far as to say for what did they meet? What was the
+object of the gathering?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose, sir, you are not a reader of the morning papers?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Occasionally. Indeed, I always glance at them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, and has not your glance fallen upon the announcement of the
+ball,&mdash;the grand ball to be given at the-Rotundo for the orphan
+asylum called the 'Rogues Redemptory,' at Rathmines, at the head of whose
+patronesses stands my Lady's name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire shook his head in negative.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And have you not come like the rest with an application for permission to
+attend the ball?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I have come to speak to Lady Lendrick&mdash;and by appointment too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A faint but prolonged &ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; expressed the usher's-astonishment, and he
+turned and whispered a few words to-a footman at his side. He disappeared,
+and returned in &amp; moment to say that her Ladyship would see Mr. Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust you will forgive me, sir,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick,&mdash;a very
+large, very showy, and still handsome woman,&mdash;as she motioned him to
+be seated. &ldquo;I got your card when my head was so full of this tiresome
+ball, and I made the absurd mistake of supposing you came for tickets. You
+are, I think your note says, an old friend of Mr. Thomas-Lendrick?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am an old friend of his father's. Madam! The Chief Baron and myself
+were schoolfellows.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes: I have no doubt,&rdquo; said she, hurriedly; &ldquo;but from your note&mdash;I
+have it here somewhere,&rdquo; and she rummaged amongst a lot of papers that
+littered the table,&mdash;&ldquo;your note gave me to understand that your visit
+to me regarded Mr. Thomas Lendrick, and not the Chief Baron. It is
+possible, however, I may have mistaken your meaning. I wish I could find
+it. I laid it out of my hand a moment ago. Oh, here it is! now we shall
+see which of us is right,&rdquo; and with a sort of triumph she opened the
+letter and read aloud, slurring over the few commencing lines till she
+came to &ldquo;that I may explain to your Ladyship the circumstances by which
+Mr. Thomas Lendrick's home will for the present be broken up, and entreat
+of you to extend to his daughter the same kind interest and favor you have
+so constantly extended to her father.&rdquo; &ldquo;Now, sir, I hope I may say that it
+is not <i>I</i> have been mistaken. If I read this passage aright, it
+bespeaks my consideration for a young lady who will shortly need a home
+and a protectress.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose I expressed myself very ill. I mean, Madam, I take it, that in
+my endeavor not to employ any abruptness, I may have fallen into some
+obscurity. Shall I own, besides,&rdquo; added he, with a tone of
+half-desperation in his voice, &ldquo;that I had no fancy for this mission of
+mine at all,&mdash;that I undertook it wholly against my will? Baron
+Len-drick's broken health, my old friendship for him, his insistence,&mdash;and
+you can understand what <i>that</i> is, eh?&rdquo;&mdash;he thought she was
+about to speak; but she only gave a faint equivocal sort of smile, and he
+went on: &ldquo;All these together overcame my scruples, and I agreed to come.&rdquo;
+ He paused here as though he had made the fullest and most ample
+explanation, and that it was now her turn to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;go on; I am all ears for your communication.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There it is: that 's the whole of it, Madam. You are to understand
+distinctly that with the arrangement itself I had no concern whatever.
+Baron Lendrick never asked my advice; I never tendered it. I 'm not sure
+that I should have concurred with his notions,&mdash;but that 's nothing
+to the purpose; all that I consented to was to come here, to tell you the
+thing is so, and why it is so&mdash;there!&rdquo; and with this he wiped his
+forehead, for the exertion had heated and fatigued him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know I 'm very dull, very slow of comprehension; and in compassion for
+this defect, will you kindly make your explanation a little, a very
+little, fuller? What is it that is <i>so?</i>&rdquo; and she emphasized the last
+word with a marked sarcasm in her tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I can see that your Ladyship may not quite like it. There is no
+reason why you should like it,&mdash;all things considered; but, after
+all, it may turn out very well. If she suit him, if she can hit it off
+with his temper,&mdash;and she may,&mdash;young folks have often more
+forbearance than older ones,&mdash;there 's no saying what it may lead
+to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Once for all, sir,&rdquo; said she, haughtily, for her temper was sorely tried,
+&ldquo;what is this thing which I am not to like, and yet bound to bear?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I said that; I trust I never said your Ladyship was bound
+to bear anything. So well as I can recall the Chief Baron's words,&mdash;and,
+God forgive me, but I wish I was&mdash;no matter what or where&mdash;when
+I heard them,&mdash;this is the substance of what he said: 'Tell her,'
+meaning your Ladyship,&mdash;'tell her that, rightly understood, the
+presence of my granddaughter as mistress of my house&mdash;'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you say, sir?&mdash;is Miss Lendrick coming to reside at the
+Priory?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course&mdash;what else have I been saying this half-hour?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To take the position of lady of the house?&rdquo; said she, not deigning to
+notice his question.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so, Madam.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, sir, bold as the step is,&rdquo;&mdash;she arose as she spoke, and
+drew herself haughtily up,&mdash;&ldquo;bold as the step is, it is not half so
+bold as your own courage in coming to tell of it. What the Chief Baron had
+not the hardihood to communicate in writing, you dare to deliver to me by
+word of mouth,&mdash;you dare to announce to me that my place, the station
+I ought to fill, is to be occupied by another, and that whenever I pass
+the threshold of the Priory, I come as the guest of Lucy Lendrick! I do
+hope, sir, I may attribute to the confusion of your faculties&mdash;a
+confusion of which this short interview has given me proof&mdash;that you
+really never rightly apprehended the ignominy of the mission your friend
+intrusted to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 're right there,&rdquo; said he, placing both his hands on the side of his
+head; &ldquo;confusion is just the name for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; but I apprehend you must have undertaken this office in a calm
+moment, and let me ask you how you could have lent yourself to such a
+task? You are aware, for the whole world is aware, that in living apart
+from the Chief Baron I am yielding to a necessity imposed by his horrible,
+his insufferable temper; now, how long will this explanation be valid, if
+my place in any respect should be occupied by another? The isolation in
+which he now lives, his estrangement from the world, serve to show that he
+has withdrawn from society, and accepted the position of a recluse. Will
+this continue now? Will these be the habits of the house with a young lady
+at its bead, free to indulge all the caprices of ignorant girlhood? I
+declare, sir, I wonder how a little consideration for your friend might
+not have led you to warn him against the indiscretion he was about to
+commit. The slight to me,&rdquo; said she, sarcastically, and flushing deeply,
+&ldquo;it was possible you might overlook; but I scarcely see how you could have
+forgotten the stain that must attach to that 'large intellect,&mdash;that
+wise and truly great man.' I am quoting a paragraph I read in the 'Post'
+this morning, with which, perhaps, you are familiar.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not see it,&rdquo; said Haire, helplessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, sir, I was unjust enough to think you wrote it. I thought no
+one short of him who had come on your errand to-day could have been the
+author.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I wish with all my heart I 'd never come,&rdquo; said he, with a
+melancholy gesture of his hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, sir, I am not surprised at your confession. I suppose you are
+not aware that in the very moment adopted for this&mdash;this&mdash;this
+new establishment, there is something like studied insult to me. It is
+only ten days ago I mentioned to the Chief Baron that my son, Colonel
+Sewell, was coming back from India on a sick-leave. He has a wife and
+three little children, and, like most soldiers, is not over-well off. I
+suggested that as the Priory was a large roomy house, with abundant space
+for many people without in the slightest degree interfering with each
+other, he should offer the Sewells to take them in. I said nothing more,&mdash;nothing
+about <i>ménage</i>,&mdash;no details of any kind. I simply said: &ldquo;Could
+n't you give the Sewells the rooms that look out on the back lawn? Nobody
+ever enters them; even when you receive in the summer evenings, they are
+not opened. It would be a great boon to an invalid to be housed so
+quietly, so removed from all noise and bustle.' And to mark how I intended
+no more, I added, 'They would n't bore you, nor need you ever see them
+unless you wished for it.' And what was his reply? 'Madam, I never liked
+soldiers. I 'm not sure that his young wife would n't be displeasing to
+me, and I know that his children would be insufferable.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I said, 'Let me take the dear children, then.' 'Do, by all means, and
+their dear parents also,' he broke in. 'I should be in despair if I
+thought I had separated you.' Yes, sir, I give you his very words. This
+wise and truly great man, or truly wise and great&mdash;which is it?&mdash;had
+nothing more generous nor more courteous to say to me than a sarcasm and
+an impertinence. Are you not proud of your friend?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Never was there a more unlucky peroration, from the day when Lord Denman
+concluded an eloquent defence of a queen's innocence by appealing to the
+unhappy illustration which called forth the touching words, &ldquo;Let him that
+is without sin cast the first stone at her.&rdquo; Never was there a more signal
+blunder than to ask this man to repudiate the friendship which had formed
+the whole pride and glory of his life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think I <i>am</i> proud of him, Madam,&rdquo; said he, rising, and
+speaking with a boldness that amazed even himself. &ldquo;I was proud to be his
+class-fellow at school; I was proud to sit in the same division with him
+in college,&mdash;proud when he won his gold medal and carried off his
+fellowship. It was a proud day to me when I saw him take his seat on the
+bench; and my heart nearly burst with pride when he placed me on his right
+hand at dinner, and told the Benchers and the Bar that we had walked the
+road of life together, and that the grasp of my hand&mdash;he called it my
+honest hand&mdash;had been the ever-present earnest of each success he had
+achieved in his career. Yes, Madam, I am very proud of him; and my heart
+must be cold indeed before I cease to be proud of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, sir, you astonish, you amaze me. I was well aware how that
+truly great and wise man had often inspired the eloquence of attack. Many
+have assailed&mdash;many have vituperated him; but that any one should
+have delivered a panegyric on the inestimable value of his friendship!&mdash;his
+friendship, of all things!&mdash;is what I was not prepared for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire heard the ringing raillery of her laugh; he was stung by he knew not
+what tortures of her scornful impertinence; bitter, biting words, very
+cruel words, too, fell over and around him like a sort of hail; they beat
+on his face and rattled over his head and shoulders. He was conscious of a
+storm, and conscious too that he sought neither shelter nor defence, but
+only tried to fly before the hurricane, whither he knew not.
+</p>
+<p>
+How he quitted that room, descended the stairs, and escaped from the
+house, he never was able to recall. He was far away outside the city
+wandering along through an unfrequented suburb ere he came to his full
+consciousness, murmuring to himself ever as he went, &ldquo;What a woman, what a
+woman! what a temper,&mdash;ay, and what a tongue!&rdquo; Without any guidance
+of his own&mdash;without any consciousness of it&mdash;he walked on and
+on, till he found himself at the gate-lodge of the Priory; a carriage was
+just passing in, and he stopped to ask whose it was. It was the Chief
+Baron's granddaughter who had arrived that morning by train. He turned
+back when he heard this, and returned to town. &ldquo;Whether you like it or
+not, Lady Lendrick, it is done now, and there 's no good in carrying on
+the issue after the verdict.&rdquo; And with this reflection, embodying possibly
+as much wisdom as his whole career had taught him, he hastened homeward,
+secretly determining, if he possibly could, never to reveal anything to
+the Chief Baron of his late interview with Lady Lendrick.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVI. SORROWS AND PROJECTS
+</h2>
+<p>
+Dr. Lendrick and his son still lingered at the Swan's Nest after Lucy's
+departure for the Priory. Lendrick, with many things to arrange and
+prepare for his coming voyage, was still so overcome by the thought of
+breaking up his home and parting from his children, that he could not
+address his mind to anything like business. He would wander about for
+hours through the garden and the shrubberies, taking leave, as he called
+it, of his dear plants and flowers, and come back to the house distressed
+and miserable. Often and often would he declare to Sir Brook, who was his
+guest, that the struggle was too much for him. &ldquo;I never was a man of ardor
+or energy, and it is not now, when I have passed the middle term of life,
+that I am to hope for that spring and elasticity which were denied to my
+youth. Better for me send for Lucy, and stay where I am; nowhere shall I
+be so happy again.&rdquo; Then would come the sudden thought that all this was
+mere selfishness, that in this life of inaction and indolence he was
+making no provision for that dear girl be loved so well. Whatever hopes
+the reconciliation with his father might lead to, would of course be
+utterly scattered to the winds by an act so full of disobedience as this.
+&ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;I may fail abroad as I have failed at home.
+Success and I are scarcely on speaking terms,&mdash;but the grandfather
+cannot leave the granddaughter whom he has taken from her home, totally
+uncared and unprovided for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As for young Tom, Sir Brook had pledged himself to-take care of him. It
+was a vague expression enough; it might mean anything, everything, or
+nothing. Sir Brook Fossbrooke had certainly, in worldly parlance, not
+taken very good care of himself,&mdash;far from it; he had squandered and
+made away with two large estates and an immense sum in ready money. It was
+true he had friends everywhere,&mdash;some of them very great people with
+abundant influence, and well able to help those they cared for; but
+Fossbrooke was not one of those who ask; and the world has not yet come to
+the millennial beatitude in which one's friends importune them with
+inquiries how they are to be helped, what and where they wish for.
+</p>
+<p>
+Many a time in the course of country-house life&mdash;at breakfast, as the
+post came in, and during the day, as a messenger would deliver a telegram&mdash;some
+great man would say, &ldquo;There is a vacancy there&mdash;such a one has died&mdash;so-and-so
+has retired. There's a thing to suit you, Fossbrooke,&rdquo;&mdash;and Sir Brook
+would smile, say a word or two that implied nothing, and so would end the
+matter. If &ldquo;my Lord&rdquo; ever retained any memory of the circumstance some
+time after, it would be that he had offered something to Fossbrooke, who
+would n't take it, did n't care for it. For so is it throughout life; the
+event which to one is the veriest trifle of the hour, is to another a fate
+and a fortune; and then, great folk who lead lives of ease and security
+are very prone to forget that humble men have often a pride very
+disproportioned to their condition, and are timidly averse to stretch out
+the hand for what it is just possible it may not be intended they should
+touch.
+</p>
+<p>
+At all events, Fossbrooke went his way through the world a mystery to many
+and a puzzle,&mdash;some averring that it was a shame to his friends in
+power that he had &ldquo;got nothing,&rdquo; others as stoutly declaring that he was
+one whom no office would tempt, nor would any place requite him for the
+loss of liberty and independence.
+</p>
+<p>
+He himself was well aware of each of these theories, but too proud to say
+a word to those who professed either of them. If, however, he was too
+haughty to ask for himself, he was by no means above being a suitor for
+his friends; and many a one owed to his active solicitude the advancement
+which none stood more in need of than himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We shall make the Viceroy do something for us, Tom,&rdquo; he would say. &ldquo;Think
+over what it shall be,&mdash;for that's the invariable question, What is
+it you want? And it's better far to say, Make me an archbishop, than have
+to own that you want anything, and are, maybe, fit for nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Though Lendrick was well disposed towards Fossbrooke, and fully sensible
+of his manly honesty and frankness, he could not help seeing that he was
+one of those impulsive sanguine natures that gain nothing from experience
+beyond the gift of companionship. They acquire all that can make them
+delightful in society,&mdash;boons they are,&mdash;and especially to those
+whose more prudent temperament inclines them to employ their gifts more
+profitably. Scores of these self-made men, rich to overflowing with all
+that wealth could buy around them, would say, What a happy fellow was
+Fossbrooke! what a blessing it was to have his nature, his spirits,
+buoyancy, and such-like,&mdash;to be able to enjoy life as he did! Perhaps
+they believed all that they said too,&mdash;who knows? When they made such
+speeches to himself, as they would at times, he heard them with the
+haughty humility of one who hears himself praised for that which the
+flatterer deems a thing too low for envy. He well understood how cheaply
+others estimated his wares, for they were a scrip that figured in no
+share-list, and never were quoted at a premium.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lendrick read him very correctly, and naturally thought that a more
+practical and a more worldly guide would have been better for Tom,&mdash;some
+one to hold him back, not to urge him forward; some one to whisper
+prudence, restraint, denial,&mdash;not daring, and dash, and indulgence.
+But somehow these flighty, imaginative, speculative men have very often a
+wonderful persuasiveness about them, and can give to the wildest dreams a
+marvellous air of substance and reality. A life so full of strange
+vicissitudes as Fossbrooke's seemed a guarantee for any&mdash;no matter
+what&mdash;turn of fortune. Hear him tell of where he had been, what he
+had done, and with whom, and you at once felt you were in presence of one
+to whom no ordinary laws of worldly caution or prudence applied.
+</p>
+<p>
+That his life had compassed many failures and few successes was plain
+enough. He never sought to hide the fact.
+</p>
+<p>
+Indeed, he was candor itself in his confessions, only that he accompanied
+them by little explanations, showing the exact spot and moment in which he
+had lost the game. It was wonderful what credit he seemed to derive from
+these disclosures. It was like an honest trader showing his balance-sheet
+to prove that, but for the occurrence of such ills as no prudence could
+ward off, his condition must have been one of prosperity.
+</p>
+<p>
+Never did he say anything more truthful than that &ldquo;he had never cared for
+money.&rdquo; So long as he had it he used it lavishly, thoughtlessly, very
+often generously. When he ceased to have it, the want scarcely appeared to
+touch him personally. Indeed, it was only when some necessity presented
+itself to aid this one or extricate that, he would suddenly remember his
+impotence to be of use, and then the sting of his poverty would sorely
+pain him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Like all men who have suffered reverses, he had to experience the
+different acceptance he met with in his days of humble fortune from what
+greeted him in his era of prosperity. If he felt this, none could detect
+it. His bearing and manner betrayed nothing of such consciousness. A very
+slight increase of stateliness might possibly have marked him in his
+poverty, and an air of more reserved dignity, which showed itself in his
+manner to strangers. In all other respects he was the same.
+</p>
+<p>
+That such a character should have exercised a great influence over a young
+man like Tom Lendrick&mdash;ardent, impetuous, and desirous of adventure&mdash;was
+not strange.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We must make a fortune for Lucy, Tom,&rdquo; said Sir Brook. &ldquo;Your father's
+nature is too fine strung to be a money-maker, and she must be cared for.&rdquo;
+ This was a desire which he continued to utter day after day; and though
+Fossbrooke usually smoked on after he had said it without any intimation
+as to where and when and how this same fortune was to be amassed, Tom
+Lendrick placed the most implicit faith in the assurance that it would be
+done &ldquo;somehow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+One morning as Lendrick was walking with his son in the garden, making, as
+he called it, his farewell visit to his tulips and moss-roses, he asked
+Tom if any fixed plan had been decided on as to his future.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have got several, sir. The difficulty is the choice. Sir Brook was at
+one time very full of buying a great tract in Donegal, and stocking it
+with all sorts of wild animals. We began with deer, antelopes, and
+chamois; and last night we got to wolves, bears, and a tiger. We were to
+have a most commodious shooting-box, and invite parties to come and sport,
+who, instead of going to Bohemia, the Rocky Mountains, and to Africa,
+would find all their savagery near home, and pay us splendidly for the
+privilege.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are some difficulties in the plan, it is true; our beasts might not
+be easy to keep within bounds. The jaguar might make an excursion into the
+market-town; the bear might eat a butcher. Sir Brook, besides, doubts if
+<i>fero</i> could be preserved under the game laws. He has sent a case to
+Brewster for his opinion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't tell me of such absurdities,&rdquo; said Lendrick, trying to repress his
+quiet laugh. &ldquo;I want you to speak seriously and reasonably.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you, sir, we have the whole details of this on paper, even to
+the cost of the beasts, and the pensions to the widows of the keepers that
+may be devoured. Another plan that we had, and it looked plausible enough
+too, was to take out a patent for a wonderful medical antidote. As Sir
+Brook says, there is nothing like a patent medicine to make a man rich;
+and by good luck he is possessed of the materials for one. He has the
+secret for curing the bite of the rattlesnake. He got it from a Tuscarora
+Indian, who, I believe, was a sort of father-in-law to him. Three
+applications of this to the wound have never been known to fail.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But we are not infested with rattlesnakes, Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's true, sir. We thought of that, and decided that we should alter
+the prospectus of our company, and we have called it 'The antidote to an
+evil of stupendous magnitude and daily recurrence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A new method of flotation in water, by inflating the cellular membrane to
+produce buoyancy; a translation of the historical plays of Shakspeare into
+Tonga, for the interesting inhabitants of those islands; artificial
+rainfall by means of the voltaic battery: these are a few of his jottings
+down in a little book in manuscript he has entitled 'Things to be Done.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His favorite project, however, is one he has revolved for years in his
+mind, and he is fully satisfied that it contains the germ of boundless
+wealth. It has been shown, he says, that in the smoke issuing from the
+chimneys of great smelt-ing-furnaces, particles of subtilized metal are
+carried away to the amount of thousands of pounds sterling: not merely is
+the quantity great, but the quality, as might be inferred, is of the most
+valuable and precious kind. To arrest and precipitate this waste is his
+project, and he has been for years making experiments to this end. He has
+at length, he believes, arrived at the long-sought-for problem; and as he
+possesses a lead-mine in the island of Sardinia, he means that we should
+set out there, and at once begin operations.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Dr. Lendrick shook his head gravely as he listeued; indeed, Tom's manner
+in detailing Sir Brook's projects was little calculated to inspire serious
+confidence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know, father,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;what you mean. I know well how wild and
+flighty these things appear; but if you had only heard them from him,&mdash;had
+you but listened to his voice, and heard him speak of his own doubts and
+fears,&mdash;how he canvasses, not merely the value of his project, but
+what the world will say of it and of him,&mdash;how modestly he rates
+himself,&mdash;how free of all the cant of the discoverer he is,&mdash;how
+simply he enters into explanations,&mdash;how free to own the difficulties
+that bar success,&mdash;I say, if you had experienced these, I feel sure
+you would not escape from him without catching some of that malady of
+speculation which has so long beset him. Nor is one less disposed to trust
+him that he makes no parade of these things. Indeed, they are his deepest,
+most inviolable secrets. In his intercourse with the world no one has ever
+heard him allude to one of these projects, and I have given him my solemn
+pledge not to speak of them, save to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a reason to think better of the man, Tom, but not to put more faith
+in the discoveries.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe I take the man and his work together; at all events, when I am
+along with him, and listening to him, he carries me away captive, and I am
+ready to embark in any enterprise he suggests. Here he comes, with two
+letters, I see, in his hand. Did you ever see a man less like a visionary,
+father? Is not every trait of his marked with thought and struggle?&rdquo; This
+was not the way Tom's father read Fossbrooke, but there was no time to
+discuss the point further.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A letter for each of you,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, handing them; and then taking
+out a cigar, he strolled down an alley, while they were engaged in
+reading.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have got a tenant at last,&rdquo; said Lendrick. &ldquo;The Dublin house-agent has
+found some one who will take the place as it stands; and now, to think of
+my voyage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVII. A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY.
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was well for poor Lendrick that he was not to witness the great change
+which, in a few short weeks, had been effected in his once home. So
+complete, indeed, was the transformation, there was but very little left
+beyond the natural outline of the scenery to remind one of that lovely
+nook in which the tasteful cottage nestled. The conservatory had been
+converted into a dining-room; the former dinner-room being fitted up for a
+billiard-room. The Swiss cowhouse, a pretty little conceit, on which
+Lendrick had lavished some money and more time, was turned into a stable,
+with three loose boxes; and the neat lawn, whose velvet sward was scarce
+less beautiful than the glittering flower-beds that studded it, was
+ruthlessly cut up into a racecourse, with hurdles and fences and double
+ditches, to represent a stiff country, and offer all the features of a
+steeple-chase.
+</p>
+<p>
+It needed not the assurance of Mr. Kimball, the house-agent, to proclaim
+that his client was very unlike the last occupant of the place. &ldquo;<i>He</i>
+was no recluse, no wretched misanthropist, hiding his discontent amongst
+shrubs and forcing-beds; he was a man of taste and refinement, with
+knowledge of life and its requirements. He would be an acquisition to any
+neighborhood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Now, the last phrase&mdash;and he invariably made it his peroration&mdash;has
+a very wide and sweeping acceptation. It appeals to the neighborhood with
+all the charms that pertain to social intercourse; a guest the more and a
+host the more are no small claims in small places. It appeals to the
+parson, as another fountain from which to draw draughts of benevolence. To
+the doctor it whispers fees and familiar dinners. Galen knows that the
+luckiest of men are not exempt from human ills, and that gout comes as a
+frequent guest where the cook is good and the wine tempting; and the
+butcher himself revels in the thought of a &ldquo;good family&rdquo; that consumes
+sirloins and forestalls sweetbreads.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was somewhat trying to young Tom Lendrick, who had gone down to the
+Nest to fetch away some remnants of fishing-tackle he had left there, to
+hear these glowing anticipations of the new-comer, so evidently placed in
+contrast with the quiet and inexpensive life his father had led. How
+unlike were his father and this &ldquo;acquisition to any neighborhood,&rdquo; was
+impressed upon him at any moment! How could a life of unobtrusive
+kindness, of those daily ministerings to poor men's wants, compete with
+the glitter and display which were to adorn a neighborhood?
+</p>
+<p>
+Already were people beginning to talk of Lendrick as odd, eccentric,
+peculiar; to set down his finest qualities as strange traits of a strange
+temperament, and rather, on the whole, to give themselves credit for the
+patience and forbearance which they had shown to one who, after all, was
+&ldquo;simply an egotist.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Yes, such are not unfrequent judgments in this same world of ours; and if
+you would have men's suffrages for the good you do, take care that you do
+it conventionally. Be in all things like those around you; and if there be
+a great man in your vicinity, whenever a doubt arises in your mind as to
+any course of action, do as you may imagine he might do.
+</p>
+<p>
+Young Lendrick came away not a little disgusted with this taste of human
+fickleness. The sight of their old home changed even to desecration was
+bad enough, but this cold ingratitude was worse.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had he gone into the cabins of the poor, had he visited the humble
+dwellings where his father's generous devotion had brought him face to
+face with famine and fever, he would have heard much to redress the
+balance of these opinions. He would have heard those warm praises that
+come from sorrow-stricken hearts, the wail of the friendless and forlorn.
+Tom heard not these, and he returned to town with a feeling of anger and
+resentment against the world he had never known before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How absurd it is in old Fossbrooke,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;to go on saying money
+cannot do this, that, and t'other! Why, it can do everything. It does not
+alone make a man great, powerful, and influential, but it gains him the
+praise of being good and kind and generous. Look at my poor father, who
+never had a thought but for others, who postponed himself to all around
+him; and yet here is some one, whose very name is unknown, more eagerly
+looked for, more ardently desired, than would he be were it to be
+announced to-morrow he was coming back to live amongst them. What nonsense
+it is to say that the world cares for any qualities save those it can
+utilize; and I am only amazed how a man could have seen so much of life as
+Sir Brook and gained so little by his experience.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was in this mood he got back to the little lodging in a humble suburb
+called Cullen's Wood, where Sir Brook awaited him. It is not impossible
+that the disparities of temperament in this world are just as beneficial,
+just as grateful, as are the boundless variety and change we find in
+nature. To Tom Lendrick's depression, almost disgust with life, Sir Brook
+brought that bright, hopeful, happy spirit which knew how to throw
+sunlight on every path to be travelled.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had received good news, or what he thought was good news, from
+Sardinia. A new vein of ore had been struck,&mdash;very &ldquo;fat&rdquo; ore they
+called it,&mdash;some eighty-odd per cent, and a fair promise of silver in
+it. &ldquo;They ask me for thirty thousand francs, though, Tom,&rdquo; said he, with a
+smile; &ldquo;they might as well have written 'pounds' when they were about it.
+They want to repair the engine and erect a new crane. They say, too, the
+chains are worn and unsafe,&mdash;a thing to be looked to, or we shall
+have some accidents. In fact, they need fully double what they ask for;
+and seeing how impossible was the performance, I am astonished at their
+modesty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do you mean to do, sir?&rdquo; asked Tom, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have been thinking of two courses: my first thought was to make a
+formal conveyance of the mine to you and your sister, for your joint use
+and benefit. This done, and I standing aloof from all possible interest in
+it, I bethought me of a loan to be raised on the security of the property,&mdash;not
+publicly, not generally, but amongst your father's friends and
+well-wishers,&mdash;beginning with the neighborhood where he has lived so
+long, and around which he has sowed the seeds of such benefits as needs
+must ripen in gratitude.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indulge no delusions on that score, sir. There is not a man in the
+county, except old Mills the vicar, perhaps, has a good word for us; and
+as to going to one of them for assistance, I 'd rather sweep a crossing.
+You shake your head, Sir Brook, and you smile at my passionate
+denunciation; but it is true, every word of it. I heard, in the few hours
+I spent there, scores of stories of my poor father's eccentricity,&mdash;his
+forgetfulness, his absence, and what not,&mdash;but never a syllable of
+his noble liberality, his self-sacrifice, or his gentleness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Tom,&rdquo; said the old man, solemnly, &ldquo;when you have lived to
+one-half my age, you will discover that the world is not so much cursed
+with ill-nature as with levity, and that when men talk disparagingly of
+their fellows, they do so rather to seem witty than to be just. There was
+not, perhaps, one of those who tried to raise a laugh at your father's
+oddities, or who assumed to be droll at his expense, who would not in a
+serious mood have conceded to him every good and great trait of his
+nature. The first step in worldly knowledge is to rise above all
+consideration of light gossip. Take my word for it, we often confirm men
+in wrong thinking by opposition, who, if left to themselves and their own
+hearts, would review their judgments, and even retract them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom took a hasty turn up and down the room; a ready reply was on his lip;
+indeed, it was with difficulty he repressed it, but he did so, and stood
+in seeming acquiescence to what he had heard. At last he said, &ldquo;And the
+other plan, Sir Brook,&mdash;what was that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps a more likely one, Tom,&rdquo; said the old man, cheerfully. &ldquo;It was to
+apply directly to your grandfather, a man whose great intelligence would
+enable him to examine a project with whose details he had not ever before
+versed himself, and ask whether he would not make the advance we require
+on mortgage or otherwise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I 'd like to ask him,&rdquo; said Tom, with a grim smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The proposal could come from me,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, proudly, &ldquo;if he would
+graciously accord me an interview.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom turned away to hide a smile, for he thought, if such a meeting were to
+take place, what he would give to be an unseen witness of it,&mdash;to
+watch the duel between antagonists so different, and whose weapons were so
+unlike.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My sister knows him better than any of us,&rdquo; said Tom, at last; &ldquo;might I
+consult her as to the likelihood of any success with him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By all means; it is what I would have myself advised.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will do so, then, to-day. I ought to have gone to see her yesterday;
+but I will go to-day, and report progress when I come back. I have a long
+budget for her,&rdquo; added he, with a sigh,&mdash;&ldquo;a catalogue of all the
+things I am not going to do. I am not going to be a medallist, nor win a
+fellowship, nor even be a doctor; it will, however, give me great courage
+if I can say, I 'll be a miner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom Lendrick was right when he said he should have gone to see his sister
+on the day before, though he was not fully aware how right. The Chief
+Baron, in laying down a few rules for Lucy's guidance, made a point of
+insisting that she should only receive visitors on one day of the week;
+and in this regulation he included even her brother. So averse was the old
+man to be exposed to even a passing meeting with strangers, that on these
+Tuesdays he either kept his room or retired to a little garden of which he
+kept the key, and from whose precincts all were rigorously excluded.
+</p>
+<p>
+Well knowing her brother's impatience of anything like restricted liberty,
+and how rapidly he would connect such an injunction as this with a life of
+servitude and endurance, Lucy took care to make the time of receiving him
+appear a matter of her own choice and convenience, and at the time of
+parting would say, &ldquo;Good-bye till Tuesday, Tom; don't forget Tuesday, for
+we shall be sure to be alone and to ourselves.&rdquo; He the more easily
+believed this, that on these same Tuesdays the whole place seemed deserted
+and desolate. The grave-looking man in black, who preceded him up the
+stairs, ushered him along the corridor, and finally announced him, awaited
+him like a piece of machinery, repeating every movement and gesture with
+an unbroken uniformity, and giving him to understand that not only his
+coming was expected, but all the details of his reception had been
+carefully prescribed and determined on.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I follow that fellow along the passage, Lucy,&rdquo; said Tom, one day, &ldquo;I
+can't help thinking that I experience every sensation of a man going to be
+hanged,&mdash;his solemn face, his measured tread, the silence, and the
+gloom,&mdash;only needing pinioned arms to make the illusion perfect.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tie them around me, dearest Tom,&rdquo; said she, laughing, and drawing him to
+a seat beside her on the sofa; &ldquo;and remember,&rdquo; added she, &ldquo;you have a long
+day. Your sentence will not come off for another week;&rdquo; and thus jestingly
+did she contrive to time his coming without ever letting him know the
+restrictions that defined his visits.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, the day before this conversation between Sir Brook and Tom took place
+being a Tuesday, Lucy had watched long and anxiously for his coming. She
+knew he had gone down to Killaloe on the preceding Saturday, but he had
+assured her he would be back and be with her by Tuesday. Lucy's life was
+far from unhappy, but it was one of unbroken uniformity, and the one sole
+glimpse of society was that meeting with her brother, whose wayward
+thoughts and capricious notions imparted to all he said a something
+striking and amusing. He usually told her how his week had been passed,&mdash;where
+he had been and with whom,&mdash;and she had learned to know his
+companions, and ask after them by name. Her chief interest was, however,
+about Sir Brook, from whom Tom usually brought a few lines, but always in
+an unsealed envelope, inscribed, &ldquo;By the favor of Mr. Lendrick, jun.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+How often would Tom quiz her about the respectful devotion of her old
+admirer, and jestingly ask her if she could consent to marry him. &ldquo;I know
+he'll ask you the question one of these days, Lucy, and it's your own
+fault if you give him such encouragement as may mislead him.&rdquo; And then
+they would talk over the romance of the old man's nature, wondering
+whether the real world would be rendered more tolerable or the reverse by
+that ideal tone which so imaginative a temperament could give it &ldquo;Is it
+not strange,&rdquo; said Tom, one day, &ldquo;that I can see all the weakness of his
+character wherever my own interests do not come, but the moment he
+presents before me some bright picture of a splendid future, a great name
+to achieve, a great fortune to make, that moment he takes me captive, and
+I regard him not as a visionary or a dreamer, but as a man of consummate
+shrewdness and great knowledge of life?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In this you resemble Sancho Panza, Tom,&rdquo; said she, laughing. &ldquo;He had
+little faith in his master's chivalry, but he implicitly believed in the
+island he was to rule over;&rdquo; and from that day forward she called her
+brother Sancho and Sir Brook the Don.
+</p>
+<p>
+On the day after that on which Tom's visit should have been but was not
+paid, Lucy sat at luncheon with her grandfather in a small breakfast-room
+which opened on the lawn. The old Judge was in unusual spirits; he had
+just received an address from the Bar, congratulating him on his recovery,
+and expressing hope that he might be soon again seen on that Bench he had
+so much ornamented by his eloquence and his wisdom. The newspapers, too,
+with a fickleness that seems their most invariable feature, spoke most
+flatteringly of his services, and placed his name beside those who had
+conferred highest honor on the judgeship.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is neatly worded, Lucy,&rdquo; said the old man, taking up the paper on
+which the address was written; &ldquo;and the passage that compares me with
+Mansfield is able as well as true. Both Mansfield and myself understood
+how there stands above all written law that higher, greater, grander law,
+that is based in the heart of all humanity, in the hope of an eternal
+justice, and soars above every technicality, by the intense desire of
+truth. It would have been, however, no more than fair to have added that,
+to an intellect the equal of Mansfield, I brought a temper which Mansfield
+had not, and a manner which if found in the courts of royalty, is seldom
+met with on the Bench. I do not quite like that phrase, 'the rapid and
+unerring glance of Erskine.' Erskine was brilliant for a Scotchman, but a
+brilliant Scotchman is but a third-rate Irishman. They who penned this
+might have known as much. I am better pleased with the words, 'the noble
+dignity of Lord Eldon.' There, my child, there, they indeed have hit upon
+a characteristic. In Eldon nature seemed to have created the judicial
+element in a high degree. It would be the vulgarity of modesty to pretend
+not to recognize in my own temperament a like organization.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I read you, Lucy, the few words in which I mean to reply to this
+courteous address? Will it bore you, my dear?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On the contrary, sir, I shall feel myself honored as well as interested.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sit where you are, then, and I will retire to the far corner of the room.
+You shall judge if my voice and delivery be equal to the effort; for I
+mean to return my thanks in person, Lucy. I mean to add the force of my
+presence to the vigor of my sentiments. I have bethought me of inviting
+those who have signed this document to luncheon here; and it may probably
+be in the large drawing-room that I shall deliver this reply. If not, it
+may possibly be in my court before rising,&mdash;I have not fully
+determined.&rdquo; So saying, he arose, and with feeble steps&mdash;assisting
+himself, as he went, by the table, and then grasping a chair&mdash;he
+moved slowly across the room. She knew him too well to dare to offer her
+arm, or appear in any way to perceive his debility. That he felt, and felt
+bitterly, &ldquo;the curse of old age,&rdquo; as he once profanely called it, might be
+marked in the firm compression of his lips and the stern frown that
+settled on him, while, as he sank into a seat, a sad weary sigh declared
+the utter exhaustion that overcame him.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not till after some minutes that he rallied sufficiently to unroll
+his manuscript and adjust his spectacles. The stillness in the room was
+now perfect; not a sound was heard save the faint hum of a bee which had
+strayed into the room, and was vaguely floating about to find an exit.
+Lucy sat in an attitude of patient attention,&mdash;her hands crossed
+before her, and her eyes slightly downcast.
+</p>
+<p>
+A faint low cough, and he began, but in a voice tremulous and faint, &ldquo;'Mr.
+Chief Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar'&mdash;do you hear me, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, I hear you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will try to be more audible; I will rest for a moment.&rdquo; fie laid his
+paper on his knees, closed his eyes, and sat immovable for some seconds.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was at this moment, when to the intense stillness was added a sense of
+expectancy, the honeysuckle that grew across the window moved, the frail
+branches gave way, and a merry voice called out, &ldquo;Scene the first: a young
+lady discovered at luncheon!&rdquo; and with a spring Tom Lendrick bounced into
+the room, and, ere her cry of alarm had ended, was clasping his sister in
+his arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom, dearest Tom, why to-day? Grandpapa&mdash;grandpapa is here,&rdquo;
+ sighed she, rather than whispered, in his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+The young man started back, more struck by the emotion he had shown than
+by her words, and the Chief Baron advanced towards him with a manner of
+blended courtesy and dignity, saying, &ldquo;I am glad to know you. Your
+sister's brother must be very welcome to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I could make a proper excuse for this mode of entry, sir. First of
+all, I thought Lucy was alone; and, secondly&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind the second plea; I submit to a verdict on the first,&rdquo; said the
+Judge, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tom forgot; it was Tuesday was his day,&rdquo; began Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no day; days are all alike to me, Lucy. My occupations of Monday
+could be transferred to a Saturday, or, if need be, postponed indefinitely
+beyond it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The glorious leisure of the fortunate,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a peculiar
+smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Or the vacuity of the unlucky, possibly,&rdquo; said Tom, with an easy laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At all events, young gentleman, you carry your load jauntily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One reason is, perhaps, that I never knew it was a load. I have always
+paraded in heavy marching order, so that I don't mind the weight of my
+pack.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+For the first time did the old man's features relax into a look of kindly
+meaning. To find the youth not merely-equal to appreciate a figure of
+speech, but able to carry on the illustration, seemed so to identify him
+with his own blood and kindred that the old Judge felt himself
+instinctively drawn towards him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy, help your brother to something; there was an excellent curry there
+awhile ago,&mdash;if it be not cold.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have set my affections on that cold beef. It seems tome an age since I
+have seen a real sirloin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A slight twitch crossed the Judge's face,&mdash;a pang he felt at what
+might be an insinuated reproach at his in hospitality; and he said, in a
+tone of almost apology, &ldquo;We see no one&mdash;-absolutely no one&mdash;here.
+Lucy resigns herself to the companionship of a very dreary old man whom
+all else have forgotten.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't say so, grandpapa, on the day when such a testimony of esteem and
+affection reaches you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Young Lendrick looked up from his plate, turning his eyes first towards
+his sister, then towards his grandfather; his glance was so palpably an
+interrogatory, there was no-mistaking it. Perhaps the old man's first
+impulse was not to reply; but his courtesy or his vanity, or a blending of
+both, carried the day, and he said, in a voice of much feeling: &ldquo;Your
+sister refers to an address I have just received,&mdash;an address which
+the Irish Bar have deemed proper to transmit to me with their
+congratulations on my recovery. It is as gratifying, it is as flattering,
+as she says. My brethren have shown that they can rise above all
+consideration of sect or party in tendering their esteem to a man whom no
+administration has ever been able to convert into a partisan.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you have always been a Whig, sir, haven't you?&rdquo; said Tom, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have been a Whig, sir, in the sense that a King is a Royalist,&rdquo; said
+the old man, haughtily; and though Tom felt sorely provoked to reply to
+this pretentious declaration, he only gave a wicked glance at his sister,
+and drank off his wine.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was at the moment of your unexpected appearance,&rdquo; continued the Judge,
+&ldquo;that I was discussing with your sister whether my reply to this
+compliment would come better if delivered here, or from my place on the
+Bench.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd say from the Bench,&rdquo; said Tom, as he helped himself to another slice
+of beef.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old man gave a short cough, with a start. The audacity of tendering
+advice so freely and positively overcame him; and his color, faint indeed,
+rose to his withered cheek, and his eye glittered as he said, &ldquo;Might I
+have the benefit of hearing the reasons which have led you to this
+opinion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First of all,&rdquo; said Tom, in a careless off-hand way, &ldquo;I take it the thing
+would have more&mdash;what shall I say?&mdash;dignity; secondly, the men
+who have signed the address might feel they were treated with more
+consideration; and lastly,&mdash;it 's not a very good reason, but I 'm
+bound to own it,&mdash;I 'd like to hear it myself, which I could if it
+were delivered in public, but which I am not so likely to do if spoken
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom, dear Tom!&rdquo; whispered his sister, in dismay at a speech so
+certain to be accepted in its least pleasing signification.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have already to-day reminded me of my deficiencies in hospitality,
+sir. This second admonition was uncalled for. It is happy for <i>me</i>
+that my defence is unassailable. It is happy for <i>you</i> that your
+impeachment is unwitnessed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have mistaken me, sir,&rdquo; said Tom, eagerly. &ldquo;I never thought of
+reflecting on your hospitality. I simply meant to say that as I find
+myself here to-day by a lucky accident, I scarcely look to Fortune to do
+me such another good turn in a hurry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your father's fault&mdash;a fault that would have shipwrecked fourfold
+more ability than ever he possessed&mdash;was a timidity that went to very
+cowardice. He had no faith in himself, and he inspired no confidence in
+others. Yours is, if possible, a worse failing. You have boldness without
+knowledge. You have the rashness that provokes a peril, and no part of the
+skill that teaches how to meet it. It was with a wise prescience that I
+saw we should not be safe company for each other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He arose as he spoke, and, motioning back Lucy as she approached to offer
+her arm, he tottered from the room, to all seeming more overcome by
+passion than even by years and infirmity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; said Tom, as he threw his napkin on the table, and pushed his
+chair back, &ldquo;I 'll be shot if I know how I provoked that burst of anger,
+or to what I owe that very neat and candid appreciation of my character.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy threw her arm around his neck, and, bending over his shoulder till
+her face touched his own, said, &ldquo;Oh, my dearest Tom, if you only knew how
+nervous and susceptible he is, in part from his nature, but more, far
+more, from suffering and sorrow! Left to the solitude of his own bitter
+thoughts for years, without one creature to whisper a kind word or a
+hopeful thought, is it any wonder if his heart has begun to consume
+itself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Devilish bitter diet it must find it! Pass me over the Madeira, Lucy. I
+mean to have my last glass to the old gentleman's health and better
+temper.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has moments of noble generosity that would win all your love,&rdquo; said
+she, enthusiastically.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have a harder lot than ever I thought it, my poor Lucy,&rdquo; said he,
+looking into her eyes with an affectionate solicitude. &ldquo;This is so unlike
+our old home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, so unlike!&rdquo; said she; and her lip quivered and her eyes grew glazy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And can you bear it, girl? Does it not seem to you like a servitude to
+put up with such causeless passion, such capricious anger as this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shook her head mournfully, but made no answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it be your woman's nature enables you to do it, all I can say is, I
+don't envy you your sex.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, Tom, remember his years,&mdash;remember his age.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove, he took good care to remind me of my own!&mdash;not that he was
+so far wrong in what he said of me, Lucy. I felt all the while he had 'hit
+the blot,' and I would have owned it too, if he had n't taken himself off
+so quickly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you had, Tom,&mdash;if you had said but one word to this purport,&mdash;you
+would have seen how nobly forgiving he could be in an instant.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Forgiving,&mdash;humph! I don't think the forgiveness was to have come
+from <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir William wishes to speak with you, Miss Lucy,&rdquo; said the butler,
+entering hastily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must go, Tom,&mdash;good-bye. I will write to you tomorrow,&mdash;to-night,
+if I can,&mdash;good-bye, my dearest brother; be sure to come on Tuesday,&mdash;mind,
+Tuesday. You will be certain to find me alone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE FIRST LETTER HOME.
+</h2>
+<p>
+The post of the morning after the events of our last chapter brought Lucy
+a letter from her father. It was the first since his departure. What
+chapters in life are these first letters after absence! How do they open
+to us glimpses of not only new scenes and incidents, but of emotions and
+sentiments which, while we had relied upon them, we had never so palpably
+realized before! There is such ecstasy in thinking that time and space are
+no barriers against love, and that, even as we read, the heart that sent
+the message is beating with affection for us.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lendrick's letter to his daughter was full of fondness; her image had
+evidently gone with him through all the changes of the voyage, and their
+old home mingled in every thought of the new life before him. It was plain
+enough how unwillingly he turned from the past to the present, and how far
+rather he would revel in the scenes around the Shannon than turn to the
+solitary existence that awaited him beyond the seas.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I console myself, dear Lucy,&rdquo; wrote he, &ldquo;as well as I may, by thinking
+that in my great sacrifice I have earned the love of my father,&mdash;that
+love from which I have lived so long estranged, and for which my heart had
+never ceased to yearn; and I delight to think how by this time you must
+have grown into his heart, soothed many a care for him, and imparted to
+his solitary life the blessing of that bright hopefulness which gave even
+to my own dull existence a glow of glad sunshine. Out of my selfishness I
+cannot help asking you to remind him of all I have given him. And now that
+my egotism is so fully aroused, let me tell of myself. The voyage was less
+dreary than my fears had made it. I suffered at first, it is true; and
+when at last use had inured me to the sea, I fell into a sort of low
+feverish state, more the result of homesickness, perhaps, than real
+malady. It was a condition of rather depression than disease. Nothing
+could engage, nothing interest me. I could not read, neither could I
+partake in any of the various pastimes by which my fellow-voyagers
+beguiled the hours; and I found myself in that pitiable state of sinking
+daily lower and lower, without what I could call a cause for the
+depression.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have more than once in my experience as a doctor had to deal with such
+cases, and I own now that I have neither valued their intensity nor
+understood their importance. I did not, it is true, go to the vulgar
+extent of calling them hippishness; but I did the next worse thing,&mdash;I
+treated them as the offspring of an over-easy existence, of a placid
+frictionless life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With much shame do I recall how often I have rallied these poor sufferers
+on the vast space that separated them from real sorrow. There is no
+unreality, dearest Lucy, in whatever so overcomes the brain that thought
+is all but madness, and so pains the heart that the whole wish is for
+death. There are subtler influences in our nature than those that work by
+the brain or the blood, and the maladies of these have but one physician.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was my great good-fortune to have a fellow-traveller who took the
+kindest interest in me. If he could not cure, he certainly did much to
+console me. He was a young man, lately gazetted on the
+commander-in-chief's staff, and who came on board of us in the Downs from
+a frigate bound for England. It was the merest accident that he did not
+miss us and lose his passage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not a very attractive person, and it was with some astonishment that
+I heard he desired to make my acquaintance; and on meeting he said,
+'Though you have forgotten me, Dr. Lendrick, I had the honor of being
+presented to you at Killaloe by my friend Sir Brook Fossbrooke;' and I
+then remembered all about it, and how it was his features were so familiar
+to me,&mdash;very good features, too, they were, with much candor and
+manliness in the expression,&mdash;altogether a handsome young fellow, and
+with an air of good birth about him just as distinctive as his good looks.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am so unused to being singled out by a stranger as the object of
+attentions, that I never fully got over the surprise which this young
+man's attachment to me inspired; and I am not using too strong a word,
+Lucy, when I call it attachment. There might have been, at least to his
+eyes, something in our respective fortunes that suggested this drawing
+towards me. Who knows whether he too might not have parted from a loved
+home and friends!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When he first came on board, his manner was wild,&mdash;almost
+incoherent; he ran here and there, like one in search of something or of
+somebody, but whose name he had forgotten. Indeed he actually startled me
+by the eagerness with which he addressed me; and when I informed him that
+I was alone, quite alone, and as friendles as himself on board, I thought
+he would have fainted. In all this suffering and emotion I suspected that
+I found what led him to a companionship with one as sorrow-stricken as
+himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As it was, there was no care he did not bestow on me. My own dear boy
+himself could not have nursed me more tenderly, nor tried to rally my
+spirits with more affectionate solicitude. He read for me, played chess
+with me, he even lent himself to the sort of reading I liked best, to
+become more companionable to me, withdrawing all this while from the gay
+and pleasant society of young fellows like himself. In a word, Lucy, by
+his devotion to me, he sent through my heart a lurking thought, almost
+like a hope, that I must somehow have certain qualities for which the
+world at large had not yet credited me, which could make me of interest to
+a young, bright-natured creature, fresh to life and all its enjoyments;
+and from the self-esteem of this notion I really believe I drew more
+encouragement than from any amount of more avowed approbation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I feel I am not wearying you, my darling Lucy, by dwelling even with
+prolixity on what beguiled the long hours of absence, the weary, weary
+days at sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When we landed, for a time at least, I only met him now and then; he had
+his duties, and I had mine. I had to look out for a house. My
+predecessor's family are still occupying the official residence, and have
+begged of me leave to remain there a little longer. I had my visits of
+duty or compliment to make, and a whole round of little courtesies to
+perform, for which I well know I have all your sympathy. Every one was,
+however, kind and polite; some were even friendly. Indeed, my very want of
+manner, my awkward bashfulness and deficient tact, have, I can see, not
+injured me in the esteem of those whose worldly breeding and knowledge
+have taught them to be compassionate as well as courteous.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Amongst the many persons to whom I was presented I made two acquaintances
+of more than common interest to me,&mdash;I will not go farther, and say
+of any great degree of gratification. In dining with the Governor,
+yesterday week, he said, 'You will meet a relation to-day, Dr. Lendrick.
+His ship has just put in to coal, and he and his wife dine with us.'
+Though quite persuaded the Governor was laboring under some mistake, I
+waited with anxiety as the different arrivals were announced, and at last
+came Colonel and Mrs. Sewell,&mdash;the Colonel being Lady Lendrick's son
+by her first marriage,&mdash;what relation to myself all my skill in
+genealogy is unable to pronounce.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We met, however, shook hands very cordially, and I had the honor to
+conduct Mrs. Sewell to table. I am unfortunately terribly prone to first
+impressions, and all those that I entertain regarding the Colonel are
+adverse. He is a tall, handsome man, easy in manner, and with the
+readiness in speech and address that shows familiarity with life. He
+however will never suffer your eyes to meet his, never exchange a frank
+look with you, and seems, from some cause or other, to be always laboring
+under an impatient anxiety to be somewhere else than where he stands at
+the moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He asked about my father, and never waited for my reply; and he
+laughingly said, with a bad taste that shocked me, 'My mother and he never
+could hit it off together.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mrs. Sewell interested me more than her husband. She is still very
+handsome; she must at one time have been perfectly beautiful. She is very
+gentle, low-voiced, and quiet, talking with a simplicity that even I can
+detect only covers a deep knowledge of life and the world. The dread of
+her husband seems, however, to pervade all she says or does. She changes
+color when he looks at her, and if he addresses her, she sometimes seems
+about to faint. His slightest word is accepted as a command; and yet with
+all this terror&mdash;terror it was&mdash;I caught a look that once passed
+between them that actually overwhelmed me with amazement. It was the very
+look that two accomplices might have interchanged in a moment when they
+could not communicate more freely. Don't think that there is any
+exaggeration in this, Lucy, or that I am assuming to possess a finer
+insight into human motives than my neighbors; but my old craft as a doctor
+supplies me with a technical skill that no acquaintance with the mere
+surface-life of the world could have given; for the <i>Medico</i> reads
+mankind by a stronger and steadier light than ever shone out of
+conventionalities or social usages.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'We are on our way to England, to Ireland, perhaps,' he said to me, in a
+careless way; but she, not aware of his speech, told me they had been
+invited to the Priory,&mdash;a piece of information which I own startled
+me. First of all, they are not by any means like people who would be
+agreeable to my father, nor, so far as I can guess, are they persons who
+would easily sacrifice their own modes of life and habits to the wishes of
+a recluse. Least of all, dearest Lucy, do I desire this lady to be your
+companion. She has, I see, many attractive qualities; she may have others
+as good and excellent; but if I do not greatly err, her whole nature and
+being are in subjection to a very stern, cold, and unscrupulous man, and
+she is far from being all that she should be with such gifts as she
+possesses, and farther again from what she might have been with a happier
+destiny in marriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it were not that you are so certain to meet, and not improbably see
+much of these people, I should not have filled so much of my letter with
+them; but I confess to you, since I saw them they have never been out of
+my thoughts. Our relationship&mdash;if that be the name for it&mdash;led
+us rapidly into considerable intimacy; he brought his children&mdash;two
+lovely girls, and a little cherub of a boy of three years old&mdash;to see
+me yesterday, and Mrs. Sewell comes to take me to drive every day after
+luncheon. She expresses the most ardent desire to meet you, and says she
+knows you will love each other. She carried off your picture t' other day,
+and I was in real terror till I got it back again. She seemed in ecstasy
+on being told you were living with your grandfather; but I saw a look she
+shot across to her husband as I told it, and I saw his reply by another
+glance that revealed to me how my tidings had caused surprise, and
+something more than surprise.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must not set me down as fanciful or captious, dear Lucy; but the
+simple truth is, I have never had a quiet moment since I knew these
+people. They inspire me with the same sort of anxiety I have often felt
+when, in the course of my profession, some symptom has supervened in a
+case not very grave or startling in itself, but still such as I have
+always found heralding in very serious combinations. It is therefore the
+doctor as much as the father that takes alarm here.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is just possible&mdash;mind, I say possible&mdash;that I am a little
+jealous of these Sewells, for they have already seduced from me my young
+friend Lionel, who was so kind to me on the voyage. I scarcely see him
+now, he is always with them; and yesterday I heard&mdash;it may not be
+true&mdash;that he is already weary of Cape Town, and means to return home
+by the next ship,&mdash;that is, along with the Sewells, who are to sail
+on Friday.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am certain that Sewell is neither a good nor a safe companion for a
+young fellow so bashful and unsuspecting as Lionel Trafford.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are men who read the world the way certain dishonest critics quote
+a book or an article, by extracting all that is objectionable, and,
+omitting context and connection, place passage after passage in quick
+sequence. By such a process as this, human life is a pandemonium. I half
+suspect Sewell to be one of this scornful school; and if so, a most
+dangerous intimate. The heartfelt racy enjoyment of his manner, as he
+records some trait of rascality or fraud, is not more marked than the
+contemptuous sneer with which he receives a story that bears testimony to
+generosity or trustfulness, throwing over his air in each that tone of
+knowledge of life and the world that seems to say, 'These are the things
+we all of us know well, though only a few have either the manliness or the
+honesty to declare them openly.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I may have tired you with this long tirade, my dear Lucy, but I am
+pouring out to you my thoughts as they come,&mdash;come, too, out of the
+fulness of much reflection. Remember, too, my sweet child, that I have
+often told you, 'It is just some half-dozen people with whom we are
+intimate who make or mar our fate in life.' Big as the world is, we play a
+very small game in one corner of the board, and it behoves us to look well
+to those with whom we are to play it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I am jealous of the Sewells for having robbed me of my young friend, I
+am envious of himself also, for he is going back to England,&mdash;going
+back to the loved faces and scenes he has left,&mdash;going back to Home.
+There 's the word, Lucy, that gathers all that we come to live for, when
+life really is a blessing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would seem too early to pronounce, but I think I can already see this
+is not a place to which I would like to bring you; but I will not prejudge
+it. It may be that time will reconcile me to some things I now dislike; it
+may be, too, that the presence of my own around me will dispose me to take
+a cheerier view of much that now depresses me. I have a great deal to do;
+I am employed during the whole day, and never really free till evening,
+when society claims me. This latter is my only severe burden. You can
+imagine me daily dining out, and fancy the martyrdom it costs me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am most anxious to hear of you, and how you like your new life,&mdash;I
+mean how you bear it. Liking is not the word for that which entails
+separation. I feel assured that you will love my father. You will be
+generous towards those traits which the host of mere acquaintanceship took
+pleasure in exaggerating, and you will be fair enough not to misjudge his
+great qualities because of certain faults of temper. He has great gifts,
+Lucy; and as you will see, the two pendulums of his nature, heart and
+head, swing together, and he is as noble in sentiment as he is grand in
+action.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It almost consoles me for separation when I think that I have transferred
+to him the blessings of that presence that made my own sunshine. Mind that
+you send me a diary of your life. I want your whole day; I want to see how
+existence is filled, so that whenever my mind flies back to you I may say,
+'She is in her garden,&mdash;she is working,&mdash;she is at her music,&mdash;she
+is reading to him.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a mistake to send me here, Lucy. There are men in scores who would
+rejoice in the opportunities of such a place, and see in it the road to
+rapid fortune. I only look at one feature of it,&mdash;the banishment. Not
+that by nature I am discontented,&mdash;I hope and believe this is not so,&mdash;but
+I feel that there are many things in life far worse than poverty. I have
+not the same dread of narrow means most men have. I do not feel depressed
+in spirit when I lie beneath a very humble roof, and sit down to a coarse
+meal; nor has splendor the power to exhilarate or elevate me. I am
+essentially humble, and I need nothing that is not generally within the
+reach of the humble; and I vow to you in all truth, I 'd rather be your
+grandfather's gardener than be the governor of this great colony. There 's
+an ignoble confession, but keep it for yourself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have written a long letter to Tom by this post, and addressed it to Mr.
+Dempster, who will forward it if he should have left before this. It
+distresses me greatly when I think that I have not been able to give him
+any definite career in life before we parted. Mere aptitude has no value
+with the world. You may be willing and ready to do fifty things, but some
+fourth-rate fellow who <i>knows</i> how to do one will beat you. The
+marketable quality in life is skill; the thing least in request is genius.
+Tom has this harsh lesson yet to learn, but learn it he must, for the
+world is a schoolmaster that will stand no skulking, and however little to
+our taste be its tasks, we must come up when called on, and go on with our
+lesson as well as we may.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In many respects Sir Brook Fossbrooke was an unfortunate companion for
+him to have chanced upon. A man of considerable resources, who has
+employed them all unprofitably, is a bad pilot. The very waywardness of
+such a nature was exactly the quality to be avoided in Tom's case; but
+what was to be done? Poverty can no more select its company than its
+climate; and it would have been worse than ungracious to have rejected a
+friendship so generously and freely offered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am curious&mdash;I am more than curious, I am anxious&mdash;to know if
+Tom should ever have met my father. They are so intensely alike in many
+things that I fear me their meeting could not lead to-good. I know well
+that Tom resents, and would like to show that he resents, what he deems
+the harsh treatment evinced towards me, and I dread anything like
+interchange of words between them. My whole hope is that you would prevent
+such a mischance, or, if it did occur, would take measures to obviate its
+dangers.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me particularly about this when you write. Tell me also, have you
+met Lady Lendrick, and if so, on what terms? I have ever found her
+obliging and good-natured, and with many qualities which the world has not
+given her credit for. Give her my most respectful regards when you see
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is daybreak; the hot sun of Africa is already glancing into the room,
+and I must conclude. I cannot bear to think of the miles these lines must
+travel ere they meet you, but they will be with you at last, and they are
+in this more fortunate than your loving father,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;T. Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy sat long pondering over this letter. She read it too, again and
+again, and by a light which was certainly not vouchsafed to him who wrote
+it. To <i>her</i> there was no mystery in Trafford's conduct. It was plain
+enough he had gone out, expecting to find her as his fellow-passenger. His
+despair&mdash;his wretchedness&mdash;his devotion to her father, the last
+resource of that disappointment he could not subdue&mdash;were all
+intelligible enough. Less easy, however, to read the sudden attachment he
+had formed for the Sewells. What did this mean? Had it any meaning; and if
+so, was it one that concerned her to know?
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XIX. OFFICIAL MYSTERIES
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I had better see him myself,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, after patiently
+listening to Tom Lendrick's account of his meeting with his grandfather.
+&ldquo;It is possible I may be able to smooth down matters a little, and dispose
+the old gentleman, besides, to accord us some aid in our Sardinian
+project, for I have resolved upon that, Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, sir; the gold-mine?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, the lead,&mdash;the lead and silver. In the rough calculation I made
+last night on this slip of paper, I see my way to something like seven
+thousand a year to begin with; untold wealth will follow. There are no
+less than eleven products available,&mdash;the black lead of pencils and
+the white used by painters being the chief; while in my new salt, which I
+am disposed to call the 'pyrochloride of plumbium,' we have a sedative
+that will allay the pangs of hydrophobia.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish it would quiet the Chief Baron,&rdquo; muttered Tom; and Sir Brook, not
+hearing him correctly, continued,&mdash;&ldquo;I think so,&mdash;I think the
+Chief Baron eminently calculated to take a proper estimate of my
+discovery. A man of fine intellect is ever ready to accept truth, albeit
+it come in a shape and through a channel in which he has himself not
+pursued it. Will you write a line to your sister and ask if it would be
+his Lordship's convenience to receive me, and at what time?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, sir, whatever you wish,&rdquo; said Tom, in some confusion; &ldquo;but
+might I ask if it be your intention to ask my grandfather to aid me with
+his purse?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Naturally. I mean that he should, by advancing, let us say, eight hundred
+pounds, put you in a position to achieve a speedy fortune. He shall see,
+too, that our first care has been your sister's interests. Six-sixteenths
+of the profits for fifty years are to be hers; three each we reserve for
+ourselves; the remaining four will form a reserve fund for casualties, a
+capital for future development, and a sum at interest to pay
+superannuations, with some other objects that you will find roughly jotted
+down here, for which, however, they will amply suffice. I take it his
+Lordship knows something of metallurgy, Tom?&rdquo; &ldquo;I believe he knows a little
+of everything.&rdquo; &ldquo;Chemistry I feel sure he must have studied.&rdquo; &ldquo;I won't
+answer for the study; but you 'll find that when you come to talk with
+him, you 'll scarcely wander very far out of his geography. But I was
+going to say, sir, that I 'm not quite easy at the thought of asking him
+for money.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not money&mdash;at least, it's no gift&mdash;we require of him. We
+are in possession of a scheme certain to secure a fortune. We know where a
+treasure lies hid, and we want no more than the cost of the journey to go
+and fetch it. He shall be more than repaid. The very dispositions we make
+in your sister's favor will show him in what spirit we mean to deal. It is
+possible&mdash;I am willing to own it&mdash;it is possible I might
+approach a man of inferior intelligence with distrust and fear, but in
+coming before Baron Lendrick I have no misgivings. All my experience of
+life has shown me that the able men are the generous men. In the ample
+stretch of their minds they estimate mankind by larger averages, and thus
+they come to see that there is plenty of good in human nature.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the old Judge is clever enough, and some speak very well of his
+character; but his temper&mdash;his temper is something that would swallow
+up all the fine qualities that ever were accorded to one man; and even if
+you were about to go on a mission I liked better, I 'd say, Don't ask to
+see him, don't expose yourself to the risk of some outrageous affront,&mdash;something
+you could n't bear and would n't resent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have never yet found myself in the predicament you speak of,&rdquo; said Sir
+Brook, drawing himself up haughtily, &ldquo;nor do I know of any contingency in
+life from which I could retreat on account of its perils. It may be,
+indeed it is, more than likely, from what you tell me, that I shall make
+no appeal to your grandfather's generosity; but I shall see him to tender
+your regrets for any pain you may have caused him, and to tell also so
+much of our future intentions as it is becoming the head of your house
+should hear. I also desire to see your sister, and say good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ask her to let me do so too. I can't go away without seeing her again.&rdquo;
+ Tom took a turn or two up and down the room as though he had not made up
+his mind whether to say something or not. He looked out of the window,
+possibly in search of something to distract his thoughts, and then turning
+suddenly about, he said: &ldquo;I was thinking, sir, that if it was your opinion&mdash;mind,
+I don't want to insinuate that it ought to be, or even that it is my own&mdash;but
+that if you came to the conclusion that my sister was not happy with my
+grandfather&mdash;that her life was one of depression and suffering&mdash;what
+would you say to her coming along with us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To Sardinia! Coming to Sardinia, do you mean, Tom?&rdquo; said the old man, in
+astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, that is what I meant.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have I not told you the sort of life that lies before us in the island,&mdash;the
+hardships, the dangers, the bitter privations we shall have to endure? Is
+it to these we can invite a young girl, trained and accustomed to every
+elegance and every comfort?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She 'd not shrink from her share,&mdash;that much I 'll warrant you; and
+the worst roughing of that rugged life would be easier to bear than this
+old man's humor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; it must not be thought of,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, sternly. &ldquo;What
+meaning has our enterprise if it be not to secure her future fortune? She
+cannot&mdash;she shall not&mdash;pay any part of the price. Let me think
+over this, Tom. It may be that we ought not to leave her; it may be that
+we should hit upon something nearer home. I will go up to the Castle and
+see the Viceroy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He made a light grimace as he said this. Such a visit was by no means to
+his taste. If there was anything totally repugnant to his nature, it was
+to approach men whom he had known as friends or intimates with anything
+like the request for a favor. It seemed to him to invert all the relations
+which ought to subsist between men in society. The moment you had stooped
+to such a step, in his estimation you had forfeited all right to that
+condition of equality which renders intercourse agreeable.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must have something for this young fellow,&mdash;something that may
+enable him to offer his sister a home if she should need it. I will accept
+nothing for myself,&mdash;on that I am determined. It is a sorry part,
+that of suppliant, but so long as it is for another it is endurable. Not
+that I like it, though,&mdash;not that it sits easy on me,&mdash;and I am
+too old to acquire a new manner.&rdquo; Thus muttering to himself, he went along
+till he found himself at the chief entrance of the Castle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will have to wait on Mr. Balfour, sir, his Excellency's private
+secretary, the second door from the corner,&rdquo; said the porter, scarcely
+deigning a glance at one so evidently unversed in viceregal observances.
+Sir Brook nodded and withdrew. From a groom who was holding a neat-looking
+cob pony Fossbrooke learned that Mr. Balfour was about to take his
+morning's ride. &ldquo;He'll not see you now,&rdquo; said the man. &ldquo;You 'll have to
+come back about four or half-past.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have only a question to ask,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, half to himself as he
+ascended the stairs. As he gained the landing and rang, the door opened
+and Mr. Balfour appeared. &ldquo;I regret to detain you, sir,&rdquo; began Sir Brook,
+as he courteously raised his hat. &ldquo;Mr. Balfour, I believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right as to my name, but quite as wrong if you fancy that you
+will detain me,&rdquo; said that plump and very self-satisfied gentleman, as he
+moved forward.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet, sir, such is my intention,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, placing himself
+directly in front of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is a matter very soon settled,&rdquo; said Balfour, returning to the door
+and calling out, &ldquo;Pollard, step down to the lower yard, and send a
+policeman here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook heard the order unmoved in manner, and even made way for the
+servant to pass down the stairs. No sooner, however, was the man out of
+hearing than he said, &ldquo;It would be much better, sir, not to render either
+of us ridiculous. I am Sir Brook Fossbrooke, and I come here to learn at
+what time it would be his Excellency's pleasure to receive me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The calm quiet dignity in which he spoke, even more than the words, had
+its effect on Balfour, who, with more awkwardness than he would like to
+have owned, asked Sir Brook to walk in and be seated. &ldquo;I have had a
+message for you from his Excellency these three or four days back, and
+knew not where to find you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did it never occur to you to try what assistance the police might afford,
+sir?&rdquo; said he, with deep gravity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One thinks of these generally as a last resource,&rdquo; said Balfour, coolly,
+and possibly not sorry to show how imperturbable he could be under a
+sarcasm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now for the message, sir,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll be shot if I remember it. Wasn't it something about an election
+riot? You thrashed a priest, named Malcahy, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I opine not, sir,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, with a faint smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; you are the great man for acclimatization; you want to make the
+ornithorhynchus as common as the turkey. Am I right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook shook his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never have my head clear out of office hours, that 's the fact,&rdquo; said
+Balfour, impatiently. &ldquo;If you had called on me between twelve and three,
+you 'd have found me like a directory.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Put no strain upon your recollection, sir. When I see the Viceroy, it is
+probable he will repeat the message.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know him, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have known him eight-and-forty years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I have it,&mdash;I remember it all now. You used to be with Colonel
+Hanger and Hugh Seymour and O'Kelly and all the Carlton House lot.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Fossbrooke bowed a cold assent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Excellency told us the other evening that there was not a man in
+England who had so many stories of the Prince. Didn't Moore go to you
+about his Life of Sheridan?&mdash;yes, of course,&mdash;and you promised
+him some very valuable documents; and sent him five-and-twenty protested
+bills of poor Brinsley's, labelled 'Indubitable Records.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This does not lead us to the message, sir,&rdquo; said Foss-brooke, stiffly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, but it does though,&mdash;I'm coming to it. I have a system of
+artificial memory, and I have just arrived at you now through Carlton
+House, milk-punch, and that story about Lord Grey and yourself riding
+postilions to Ascot, and you on the wheelers tipping up Grey with your
+whip till he grew frantic. Was n't that a fact?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wait for the message, sir; or rather I grow impatient at not hearing
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I remember it perfectly. It's a place he wants to offer you; it's a
+something under the Courts of Law. You are to do next to nothing,&mdash;nothing
+at all, I believe, if you prefer it, as the last fellow did. He lived in
+Dresden for the education of his children, and he died there, and we did
+n't know when he died,&mdash;at least they suspect he signed some dozen
+life certificates that his doctor used to forward at quarter-day. Mind, I
+don't give you the story as mine; but the impression is that he held the
+office for eight years after his death.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps, sir, you would now favor me with the name and nature of the
+appointment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He was called the Deputy-Assistant Sub-something of somewhere in the
+Exchequer; and he had to fill, or to register, or to put a seal, or, if
+not a seal, a stamp on some papers; but the marrow of the matter is, he
+had eight hundred a year for it; and when the Act passed requiring two
+seals, he asked for an increase of salary and an assistant clerk, and they
+gave him two hundred more, but they refused the clerk. They do such shabby
+things in those short sittings over the Estimates!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And am I to understand that his Excellency makes me an offer of this
+appointment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, not exactly; there's a hitch in it,&mdash;I may say there are two
+hitches: first of all, we 're not sure it's in our gift; and, secondly&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps I may spare you the secondly,&mdash;the firstly is more than
+enough for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, but I'd like to explain. Here's how it is: the Chief Baron claimed
+the patronage about twenty years ago, and we made, or the people who were
+in power made, some sort of a compromise about an ultimate nomination, and
+he was to have the first. Now this man only died t' other day, having held
+the office, as I said, upwards of twenty years,&mdash;a most
+unconscionable thing,&mdash;just one of those selfish acts small official
+fellows are always doing; and so <i>I</i> thought, as I saw your name down
+for something on his Excellency's list, that I 'd mention <i>you</i> for
+the post as a sort of sop to Baron Lendrick, saying, 'Look at our man; we
+are not going to saddle the country with one of your long-annuity fellows,&mdash;<i>he</i>
+'s eighty if he's a day.' I say, I 'd press this point, because the old
+Judge says he is no longer bound by the terms of the compromise, for that
+the office was abolished and reconstructed by the 58th of Victoria, and
+that he now insists on the undivided patronage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I presume that the astute reasons which induced you to think of <i>me</i>
+have not been communicated to the Viceroy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think not. I mention them to you frankly, because his Excellency
+said you were one of those men who must be dealt with openly. 'Play on the
+square with Foss-brooke,' said he; 'and whether he win or lose, you 'll
+see no change in him. Try to overreach him, and you 'll catch a tiger.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am very grateful for his kind estimate of me. It is, however, no more
+than I looked for at his hands.&rdquo; This he said with a marked feeling, and
+then added, in a lighter tone, &ldquo;I have also a debt of gratitude to
+yourself, of which I know not how to acquit myself better than by
+accepting this appointment, and taking the earliest opportunity to die
+afterwards.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, don't do that; I don't mean that. You can do like that fellow they
+made Pope because he looked on the verge of the grave, and who pitched his
+crutch into the air when he had put on the tiara.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I understand; so that it is only in Baron Lendrick's eyes I am to look
+short-lived.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so; call on him,&mdash;have a meeting with him; say that his
+Excellency desires to act with every delicacy towards him,&mdash;that
+should it be discovered hereafter the right of nomination lies with the
+Court and not with us, we 'll give him an equivalent somewhere else, till&mdash;till&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Till I shall have vacated the post,&rdquo; chimed in Sir Brook, blandly; &ldquo;a
+matter, of course, of very brief space.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see the whole thing,&mdash;you see it in all its bearings; and now if
+you only could know something about the man you have to deal with, there
+would be nothing more to tell you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have heard about him passingly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, yes, his eccentricities are well known. The world is full of stories
+of him, but he is one of those men who play wolf on the species,&mdash;he
+must be worrying somebody to keep him from worrying himself; he smashed
+the last two Governments here, and he 'd have upset <i>us</i> too if <i>I</i>
+had n't been here. He hates <i>me</i> cordially; and if you don't want to
+rouse his anger, don't let your lips murmur the name, Cholmondely
+Balfour.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may rely upon me, sir,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, bowing. &ldquo;I have scarcely ever
+met a gentleman whose name I am not more likely to recall than your own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sharp, that; did you mean it?&rdquo; said Balfour, with his glass to his eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am never ambiguous, sir, though it occasionally happens to me to say
+somewhat less than I feel. I wish you a good day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XX. IN COURT.
+</h2>
+<p>
+When the day arrived that the Chief Baron was to resume his place on the
+Bench, no small share of excitement was seen to prevail within the
+precincts of the Four Courts. Many opined that his recovery was far from
+perfect, and that it was not his intention ever to return to the
+justice-seat. Some maintained that the illness had been far less severe
+than was pretended, and that he had employed the attack as a means of
+pressure on the Government, to accord to his age and long services the
+coveted reward. Less argumentative partisans there were who were satisfied
+to wager that he would or would not reappear on the Bench, and bets were
+even laid that he would come for one last time, as though to show the
+world in what full vigor of mind and intellect was the man the Government
+desired to consign to inactivity and neglect.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is needless to say that he was no favorite with the Bar. There was
+scarcely a man, from the highest to the lowest, whom he had not on some
+occasion or another snubbed, ridiculed, or reprimanded. Whose law had he
+not controverted? Whose acuteness had he not exposed, whose rhetoric not
+made jest of? The mere presence of ability before him seemed to stimulate
+his combative spirit, and incite him to a passage at arms with one able to
+defend himself. No first-rate man could escape the shafts of his barbed
+and pointed wit; it was only dulness, hopeless dulness, that left his
+court with praise of his urbanity and an eulogy over his courteous
+demeanor.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, hopeless dulness is not the characteristic of the Irish Bar, and with
+the majority the Chief Baron was the reverse of popular.
+</p>
+<p>
+No small tribute was it therefore to his intellectual superiority, to that
+mental power that all acknowledged while they dreaded, that his appearance
+was greeted with a murmur of approbation, which swelled louder and louder
+as he moved across the hall, till it burst out at last into a hoarse, full
+cheer of welcome. Mounting the steps with difficulty, the pale old man,
+seared with age and wrinkled with care, turned round towards the vast
+crowd, and with an eye of flashing brightness, and a heightened color,
+pressed his hand upon his heart, and bowed. A very slight motion it was,&mdash;less,
+far less, perhaps, than a sovereign might have accorded; but in its
+dignity and grace it was a perfect recognition of all the honor he felt
+had been done him.
+</p>
+<p>
+How broken! how aged! how fearfully changed! were the whispered remarks
+that were uttered around as he took his seat on the Bench, and more
+significant even than words were the looks interchanged when he attempted
+to speak, and instead of that clear metallic ring which once had been
+audible even outside the court, a faint murmuring sound was only heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+A few commonplace motions were made and discharged. A somewhat wearisome
+argument followed on a motion for a new trial, and the benches of the Bar
+gradually grew thinner and thinner, as the interest of the scene wore off,
+and as each in turn had scanned, and, after his own fashion, interpreted,
+the old Judge's powers of mind and body; when suddenly, and as it were
+without ostensible cause, the court began to fill,&mdash;bench after bench
+was occupied, till at last even all the standing-space was crowded; and
+when the massive curtain moved aside, vast numbers were seen without,
+eagerly trying to enter. At first the Chief Baron appeared not to notice
+the change, but his sharp eye no sooner detected it than he followed with
+his glance the directed gaze of the crowd, and saw it fixed on the
+gallery, opposite the jury-box, now occupied by a well-dressed company, in
+the midst of whom, conspicuous above all, sat Lady Lendrick. So well known
+were the relations that subsisted between himself and his wife, such
+publicity had been given to their hates and quarrels, that her presence
+here was regarded as a measure of shameless indelicacy. In the very
+defiant look, too, that she bestowed on the body of the court she seemed
+to accept the imputation, and to dare it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Leisurely and calmly did she scan the old man's features through her
+double eyeglass, while from time to time, with a simpering smile, she
+would whisper some words to the lady at her side,&mdash;words it was not
+needful to overhear, they were so palpably words of critical comment upon
+him she gazed at.
+</p>
+<p>
+So engrossed was attention by the indecency of this intrusion, which had
+not even the shallow pretext of an interesting cause to qualify it, that
+it was only after a considerable time it was perceived that the lady who
+sat next Lady Lendrick was exceedingly beautiful. If no longer in her
+first youth, there were traits of loveliness in her perfectly formed
+features which even years respect; and in the depth of her orbits and the
+sculptural elegance of her nostrils and her mouth, there was all that
+beauty we love to call Greek, but in which no classic model ever could
+compete with the daughters of England.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her complexion was of exceeding delicacy, as was the half-warm tint of her
+light-brown hair. But it was when she smiled that the captivation of her
+beauty became perfect; and it seemed as though each and all there
+appropriated that radiant favor to himself, and felt his heart bound with
+a sort of ecstasy. It had been rumored in the morning through the hall
+that the Chief Baron, at the rising of the Court, would deliver a short
+reply to the address of the Bar; and now, as the last motion was being
+disposed of, the appearance of eager expectation and curiosity became
+conspicuous on every side.
+</p>
+<p>
+That the unlooked-for presence of his wife had irritated and embarrassed
+the old man, was plain to the least observant. The stern expression of his
+features; the steadfast way in which he gazed into the body of the court,
+to avoid even a chance glance at the gallery; the fretful impatience with
+which he moved his hands restlessly amongst his papers,&mdash;all showed
+discomposure and uneasiness. Still, it was well known that the moment he
+was called on for a mental effort intellect ever assumed the mastery over
+temper, and all felt that when he should arise not a trace of
+embarrassment would remain to mar the calm dignity of his manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was amidst a hushed silence that he stood up, and said: &ldquo;Mr. Chief
+Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the Bar: I had intended to-day,&mdash;I had
+even brought down with me some notes of a reply which I purposed to make
+to the more than flattering address which you so graciously offered to me.
+I find, however, that I have overrated the strength that remains to me. I
+find I have measured my power to thank you by the depth of my gratitude,
+and not by the vigor of my frame. I am too weak to say all that I feel,
+and too deeply your debtor to ask you to accept less than I owe you. Had
+the testimony of esteem you presented to me only alluded to those gifts of
+mind and intellect with which a gracious Providence was pleased to endow
+me,&mdash;had you limited yourself to the recognition of the lawyer and
+the judge,&mdash;I might possibly have found strength to assure you that I
+accepted your praise with the consciousness that it was not all unmerited.
+The language of your address, however, went beyond this; your words were
+those of regard, even of affection. I am unused to such as these,
+gentlemen,&mdash;they unsettle&mdash;they unman me. Physicians tell us
+that the nerves of the student acquire a morbid and diseased acuteness for
+want of those habits of action and physical exertion which more vulgar
+organizations practise. So do I feel that the mental faculties gain an
+abnormal intensity in proportion as the affections are neglected, and the
+soil of the heart left untilled.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine have been worse than ignored,&rdquo; said he, with an elevated tone, and
+in a voice that rang through the court,&mdash;&ldquo;they have been outraged;
+and when the time comes that biography will have to deal with my character
+and my fortunes, if there be but justice in the award, the summing-up will
+speak of me as one ever linked with a destiny that was beneath him. He was
+a lawyer,&mdash;he ought to have been a legislator. He sat on the Bench,
+while his place was the Cabinet; and when at the end of a laborious life
+his brethren rallied round him with homage and with tender regard, they
+found him like a long beleaguered city starved into submission, carrying a
+bold port towards the enemy, but torn by dissension within, and betrayed
+by the very garrison that should have died in its defence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The savage fierceness of these words turned every eye in the court to the
+gallery, where Lady Lendrick sat, and where, with a pleasant smile on her
+face, she not only listened with seeming pleasure, but beat time with her
+fan to the rhythm of the well-rounded periods.
+</p>
+<p>
+A quivering of the lip, and a strange flattening of the cheek of one side,
+succeeded to the effort with which he delivered these words, and when he
+attempted to speak again his voice failed him; and after a few attempts he
+placed his hand on his brow, and with a look of intense and most painful
+significancy, bowed around him to both sides of the court and retired.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That woman, that atrocious woman, has killed him,&rdquo; muttered poor Haire,
+as he hastened to the Judge's robing-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sorry, my dear, you should not have heard him in a better vein, for
+he is really eloquent at times,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick to her beautiful
+companion, as they moved through the crowd to their carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust his present excitement will not have bad consequences,&rdquo; said the
+other, softly. &ldquo;Don't you think we ought to wait and ask how he is?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you like. I have only one objection, and that is, that we may be
+misconstrued. There are people here malicious enough to impute the worst
+of motives to our anxiety. Oh, here is Mr. Pemberton! Mr. Pemberton, will
+you do me the great favor to inquire how the Chief Baron is? Would you do
+more, and say that I am most eager to know if I could be of any use to
+him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+If Mr. Pemberton had no fancy for his mission, he could not very well
+decline it. While he was absent, the ladies took a turn through the hall,
+inspecting the two or three statues of distinguished lawyers, and scanning
+the living faces, whose bewigged expression seemed to blend the over-wise
+and the ridiculous in the strangest imaginable manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+A sudden movement in the crowd betokened some event; and now, through a
+lane formed in the dense mass, the Chief Baron was seen approaching. He
+had divested himself of his robes, and looked the younger for the change.
+Indeed, there was an almost lightness in his step, as he came forward, and
+with a bland smile said: &ldquo;I am most sensible of the courtesy that led you
+here. I only wish my strength had been more equal to the occasion.&rdquo; And he
+took Lady Lendrick's hand with a mingled deference and regard.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir William, this is my daughter-in-law. She only arrived yesterday, but
+was determined not to lose the opportunity of hearing you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/178.jpg" width="100%" alt="178 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To have <i>heard</i> me to-day was disappointment,&rdquo; said the old man, as
+he raised the young lady's hand to his lips; &ldquo;to see her is none. I am
+charmed to meet one so closely tied to me,&mdash;of such exquisite beauty.
+Ah, Madam! it's a dear-bought privilege, this candid appreciation of
+loveliness we old men indulge in. May I offer you my arm?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+And now through the dense crowd they passed along,&mdash;all surprised and
+amazed at the courteous attentions of the old Judge, whom but a few
+moments before they had seen almost convulsed with passion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She almost had won the game, Haire,&rdquo; said the Chief Baron, as, having
+handed the ladies to their carriage, he went in search of his own. &ldquo;But I
+have mated her. My sarcasm has never given me one victory with that
+woman,&rdquo; said he, sternly. &ldquo;I have never conquered her except by courtesy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why did she come down to court at all?&rdquo; blurted out Haire; &ldquo;it was
+positively indecent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Spanish women go to bull-fights, but I never heard that they stepped
+down into, the arena. She has great courage,&mdash;very great courage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who was the handsome woman with her?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Sewell. Now, that is what I call beauty, Haire.
+There is the element which is denied to us men,&mdash;to subdue without
+effort, to conquer without conflict.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your granddaughter is handsomer, to my thinking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are like each other,&mdash;strangely like. They have the same
+dimpling of the cheek before they smile, and her laugh has the same ring
+as Lucy's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire muttered something, not very intelligibly, indeed, but certainly not
+sounding like assent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Lendrick had asked me to take these Sewells in at the Priory, and I
+refused her. Perhaps I 'd have been less peremptory had I seen this
+beauty. Yes, sir! There is a form of loveliness&mdash;this woman has it&mdash;as
+distinctly an influence as intellectual superiority, or great rank, or
+great riches. To deny its power you must live out of the world, and reject
+all the ordinances of society.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Coquettes, I suppose, have their followers; but I don't think you or I
+need be of the number.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You speak with your accustomed acuteness, Haire; but coquetry is the
+exercise of many gifts, beauty is the display of one. I can parry off the
+one; I cannot help feeling the burning rays of the other. Come, come,
+don't sulk; I am not going to undervalue your favorite Lucy. They have
+promised to dine with me on Sunday; you must meet them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dine with you!&mdash;dine with you, after what you said today in open
+court!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That I could invite them, and they accept my invitation, is the best
+reply to those who would, in their malevolence, misinterpret whatever may
+have fallen from me. The wound of a sharp arrow is never very painful till
+some inexpert bungler endeavors to withdraw the weapon. It is then that
+agony becomes excruciating, and peril imminent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose I am the bungler, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Heaven forbid I should say so! but as I have often warned you, Haire,
+your turn for sarcasm is too strong for even your good sense. When you
+have shotted your gun with a good joke, you will make a bull's eye of your
+best friend.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By George, then, I don't know myself, that's all; and I could as easily
+imagine myself a rich man as a witty one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are rich in gifts more precious than money; and you have the
+quintessence of all wit in that property that renders you suggestive; it
+is like what chemists call latent heat. But to return to Mrs. Sewell: she
+met my son at the Cape, and reports favorably of his health and
+prospects.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor fellow! what a banishment he must feel it!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder, sir, how many of us go through life without sacrifices! She
+says that he goes much into the world, and is already very popular in the
+society of the place,&mdash;a great and happy change to a man who had
+suffered his indolence and self-indulgence to master him. Had he remained
+at home, I might have been able to provide for him. George Ogle's place is
+vacant, and I am determined to exercise my right of appointment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First Registrar, was he not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; a snug berth for incapacity,&mdash;one thousand a year. Ogle made
+more of it by means we shall not inquire into, but which shall not be
+repeated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought to give it to your grandson,&rdquo; said Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought to know better than to say so, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a
+stern severity. &ldquo;It is to men like myself the public look for example and
+direction, and it would be to falsify all the teaching of my life if I
+were to misuse my patronage. Come up early on Saturday morning, and go
+over the lists with me. There are one hundred and twenty-three applicants,
+backed by peers, bishops, members of Parliament, and men in power.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't envy you your patronage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not, sir. The one hundred and twenty-two disappointed
+candidates would present more terror to a mind like yours than any
+consciousness of a duty fulfilled would compensate for; but I am fashioned
+of other stuff.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I only hope it may be a worthy fellow gets it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you mean worthy in what regards a devotion to the public service, I
+may possibly be able to assure you on that head.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; I mean a good fellow,&mdash;a true-hearted, honest fellow, to
+whom the salary will be a means of comfort and happiness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, you ask far too much. Men in my station investigate fitness and
+capacity; they cannot descend to inquire how far the domestic virtues
+influence those whom they advance to office.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may drop me here: I am near home,&rdquo; said Haire, who began to feel a
+little weary of being lectured.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will not dine with me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to-day. I have some business this evening. I have a case to look
+over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come up on Saturday, then,&mdash;come to breakfast; bring me any
+newspapers that treat of the appointment, and let us see if we cannot
+oppose this spirit of dictation they are so prone to assume; for I am
+resolved I will never name a man to office who has the Press for his
+patron.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It may not be his fault.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It shall be his misfortune, then. Stop, Drab; Mr. Haire wishes to get
+down. To the Priory,&rdquo; said he, as his friend went his way; and now,
+leaning back in his carriage, the old man continued to talk aloud, and,
+addressing an imaginary audience, declaim against the encroaching spirit
+of the newspapers, and inveigh against the perils to which their
+irresponsible counsels exposed the whole framework of society; and thus
+speaking, and passionately gesticulating, he reached his home.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXI. A MORNING CALL.
+</h2>
+<p>
+As Sir William waited breakfast for Haire on Saturday morning, a car drove
+up to the door, and the butler soon afterwards entered with a card and a
+letter. The card bore the name &ldquo;Sir Brook Fossbrooke,&rdquo; and the letter was
+sealed with the viceregal arms, and had the name &ldquo;Wilmington&rdquo; on the
+corner. Sir William broke it open, and read,&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Chief Baron,&mdash;This will come to your hand through Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, one of my oldest and choicest friends. He tells me he desires
+to know you, and I am not aware of any more natural or legitimate
+ambition. It would be presumption in me to direct your attention to
+qualities you will be more quick to discover and more able to appreciate
+than myself. I would only add that your estimate will, I feel assured, be
+not less favorable that it will be formed of one of whose friendship I am
+proud. It may be that his visit to you will include a matter of business;
+if so, give it your courteous attention: and believe me ever, my dear
+Chief Baron, your faithful friend,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wilmington.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show the gentleman in,&rdquo; said the Judge; and he advanced towards the door
+as Sir Brook entered. &ldquo;I am proud to make your acquaintance, Sir Brook,&rdquo;
+ said he, presenting his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would not have presumed to call on you at such an hour, my Lord Chief
+Baron, save that my minutes are numbered. I must leave for England this
+evening; and I wished, if possible, to meet you before I started.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will, I hope, join me at breakfast?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I breakfasted two hours ago,&mdash;if I dare to dignify by the name my
+meal of bread and milk. But, pray, let me not keep you from yours,&mdash;that
+is, if you will permit me to speak to you while so occupied.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am at your orders, sir,&rdquo; said the old Judge, as he seated himself and
+requested his visitor to sit beside him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Excellency tells me, my Lord, that there is just now vacant a
+situation of which some doubt exists as to the patron,&mdash;a
+Registrarship, I think he called it, in your Court?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is no doubt whatever, sir. The patronage is mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I merely quote the Viceroy, my Lord,&mdash;I assert nothing of myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It may not impossibly save time, sir, when I repeat that his Excellency
+has misinformed you. The office is in my gift.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I finish the communication with which he charged me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, there is no case before the court,&rdquo; said the Judge. &ldquo;I can hear you,
+as a matter of courtesy; but it cannot be your object to be listened to on
+such terms?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will accept even so little. If it should prove that the view taken by
+his Excellency is the correct one&mdash;pray, sir, let me proceed&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot; I have no temper for a baseless hypothesis. I will not,
+besides, abuse your time any more than my own forbearance; and I therefore
+say that if any portion of your interest in making my acquaintance
+concerns that question you have so promptly broached, the minutes employed
+in the discussion would be thrown away by us both.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mr. Haire,&rdquo; said the servant, at this moment; and the Chief Baron's old
+friend entered, rather heated by his walk.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are late by half an hour, Haire; let me present you to Sir Brook
+Fossbrooke, whose acquaintance I am now honored in making. Sir Brook is
+under a delusive impression, Haire, which I told you a few days ago would
+demand some decisive step on my part; he thinks that the vacant
+registrarship is at the disposal of the Crown.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask pardon,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke. &ldquo;As I understood his Excellency, they
+only claim the alternate appointment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And they shall not assert even that, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir William's case is strong,&mdash;it is irrefutable. I have gone over
+it myself,&rdquo; broke in Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, sir! listen to that. You have now wherewithal to go back and tell
+the Viceroy that the opinion of the leading man of the Irish Bar has
+decided against his claim. Tell him, sir, that accident timed your visit
+here at the same moment with my distinguished friend's, and that you in
+this way obtained a spontaneous decision on the matter at issue. When you
+couple with that judgment the name of William Haire, you will have said
+enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I bow to this great authority,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, with deep courtesy, &ldquo;and
+accepting your Lordship's statement to the fullest, I would only add, that
+as it was his Excellency's desire to have named me to this office, might I
+so far presume, on the loss of the good fortune that I had looked for, to
+approach you with a request, only premising that it is not on my own
+behalf?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I own, sir, that I do not clearly appreciate the title to your claim. You
+are familiar with the turf, Sir Brook, and you know that it is only the
+second horse has a right to demand his entry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not been beaten, my Lord. You have scratched my name and prevented
+my running.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us come back to fact, sir,&rdquo; said the Chief Baron, not pleased with
+the retort. &ldquo;How can you base any right to approach me with a request on
+the circumstance that his Excellency desired to give you what belonged to
+another?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that puts it forcibly&mdash;unanswerably&mdash;to my thinking,&rdquo; said
+Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I may condole with disappointment, sir, but I am not bound to compensate
+defeat,&rdquo; said the old Judge; and he arose and walked the room with that
+irritable look and manner which even the faintest opposition to him often
+evoked, and for which even the utterance of a flippant rebuke but partly
+compensated him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I take it, my Lord Chief Baron,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, calmly, &ldquo;that I have
+neither asked for condolence nor compensation. I told you, I hoped
+distinctly that what I was about to urge was not on my own behalf.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, and I think the plea is only the less sustainable. The
+Viceroy's letter might give a pretext for the one; there is nothing in our
+acquaintance would warrant the other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you knew, sir, how determined I am not to take offence at words which
+certainly imperil patience, you would possibly spare me some of these
+asperities. I am in close relations of friendship with your grandson; he
+is at present living with me; I have pledged myself to his father to do my
+utmost in securing him some honorable livelihood, and it is in his behalf
+that I have presented myself before you to-day. Will you graciously accord
+me a hearing on this ground?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was a quiet dignity of manner in which he said this, a total
+forgetfulness of self, and a manly simplicity of purpose so palpable, that
+the old Judge felt he was in presence of one whose character called for
+all his respect; at the same time he was not one to be suddenly carried
+away by a sentiment, and in a very measured voice he replied, &ldquo;If I 'm
+flattered, sir, by the interest you take in a member of my family, I am
+still susceptible of a certain displeasure that it should be a stranger
+should stand before me to ask me for any favor to my own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am aware, my Lord Chief Baron, that my position is a false one, but so
+is your own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mine, sir! mine? What do you mean? Explain yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If your Lordship's interest had been exerted as it might have been, Dr.
+Lendrick's son would never have needed so humble a friend as he has found
+in me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And have you come here, sir, to lecture me on my duty to my family? Have
+you presented yourself under the formality of a viceregal letter of
+introduction to tell a perfect stranger to you how he should have demeaned
+himself to his own?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Probably I might retort, and ask by what right you lecture me on my
+manners and behavior? But I am willing to be taught by so consummate a
+master of everything; and though I was once a courtier, I believe that I
+have much to learn on the score of breeding. And now, my Lord, let us
+leave this unpromising theme, and come to one which has more interest for
+each of us. If this registrarship, this place, whatever it be, would be
+one to suit your grandson, will the withdrawal of <i>my</i> claim serve to
+induce your Lordship to support <i>his?</i> In one word, my Lord, will you
+let him have the appointment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I distinctly refuse, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, waving his hand with an air of
+dignity. &ldquo;Of the young gentleman for whom you intercede I know but little;
+but there are two disqualifications against him, more than enough, either
+of them, to outweigh your advocacy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I learn them?&rdquo; asked Sir Brook, meekly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall, sir. He carries my name without its prestige; he inherits <i>my</i>
+temper, but not my intellect.&rdquo; The blood rushed to his face as he spoke,
+and his chest swelled, and his whole bearing bespoke the fierce pride that
+animated him; when suddenly, as it were, recollecting himself, he added:
+&ldquo;I am not wont to give way thus, sir. It is only in a moment of
+forgetfulness that I could have obtruded a personal consideration into a
+question of another kind. My friend here will tell you if it has been the
+habit of my life to pension my family on the public.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Having failed in one object of my coming, let me hope for better success
+in another. May I convey to your Lordship your grandson's regret for
+having offended you? It has caused him sincere sorrow and much
+self-reproach. May I return with the good tidings of your forgiveness?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The habits of my order are opposed to rash judgments, and consequently to
+hasty reversions. I will consider the case, and let you hear my opinion
+upon it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think that is about as much as you will do with him,&rdquo; muttered Haire in
+Sir Brook's ear, and with a significant gesture towards the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Before taking my leave, my Lord, would it be too great a liberty if I beg
+to present my personal respects to Miss Lendrick?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will inform her of your wish, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, rising, and ringing
+the bell. After a pause of some minutes, in which a perfect silence was
+maintained by all, the servant returned to say, &ldquo;Miss Lendrick would be
+happy to see Sir Brook.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope, sir,&rdquo; said the Chief Baron, as he accompanied him to the door, &ldquo;I
+have no need to request that no portion of what has passed here to-day be
+repeated to my granddaughter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A haughty bow of assent was all the reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I make my advances to her heart,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a tone of more
+feeling in his voice, &ldquo;through many difficulties. Let these not be
+increased to me,&mdash;let her not think me unmindful of my own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give her no reason to think so, my Lord, and you may feel very
+indifferent to the chance words of a passing acquaintance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For the third time to-day, sir, have you dared to sit in judgment over my
+behavior to my family. You cannot plead want of experience of life, or
+want of converse with men, to excuse this audacity. I must regard your
+intrusion, therefore, as a settled project to insult me. I accept no
+apologies, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, with a haughty wave of his hand, while
+his eyes glittered with passion. &ldquo;I only ask, and I hope I ask as a right,
+that I may not be outraged under my own roof. Take your next opportunity
+to offend me when I may not be hampered by the character of your host.
+Come down into the open arena, and see how proud you will feel at the
+issue of the encounter.&rdquo; He rang the bell violently as he spoke, and
+continued to ring it till the servant came.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Accompany this gentleman to the gate,&rdquo; said he to the man.
+</p>
+<p>
+Not a change came over Sir Brook's face during the delivery of this
+speech; and as he bowed reverentially and withdrew, his manner was all
+that courtesy could desire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see he's not going to visit Lucy,&rdquo; muttered Haire, as Sir Brook passed
+the window.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think not, sir. There are few men would like to linger where
+they have been so ingloriously defeated.&rdquo; He walked the room with a proud
+defiant look for some minutes, and then, sinking faintly into a chair,
+said, in a weak, tremulous tone, &ldquo;Haire, these trials are too much for me.
+It is a cruel aggravation of the ills of old age to have a heart and a
+brain alive to the finest sense of injury.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire muttered something like concurrence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it you say, sir? Speak out,&rdquo; cried the Judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was saying,&rdquo; muttered the other, &ldquo;I wish they would not provoke&mdash;would
+not irritate you; that people ought to see the state your nerves are in,
+and should use a little discretion how they contradict and oppose you.&rdquo;
+ The bland smile of the Chief-Justice, and an assenting gesture of his
+hand, emboldened Haire to continue, and he went on: &ldquo;I have always said,
+Keep away such as excite him; his condition is not one to be bettered by
+passionate outbreaks. Calm him, humor him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a pearl above price is a friend endowed with discretion! Leave me,
+Haire, to think over your nice words. I would like to ponder them alone
+and to myself. I 'll send for you by and by.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXII. COMING-HOME THOUGHTS
+</h2>
+<p>
+Had a mere stranger been a guest on that Sunday when the Chief Baron
+entertained at dinner Lady Lendrick, the Sewells, and his old schoolfellow
+Haire, he might have gone away under the impression that he had passed an
+evening in the midst of a happy and united family.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nothing could be more perfect than the blending of courtesy and
+familiarity. The old Chief himself was in his best of humors, which means
+that, with the high polish of a past age, its deference, and its homage,
+he combined all the readiness and epigrammatic smartness of a later
+period. Lady Lendrick was bland, courteous, and attentive. Colonel Sewell
+took the part assigned him by his host, alternate talker and listener; and
+Mrs. Sewell herself displayed, with true woman's wit, that she knew how to
+fall in with the Judge's humor, as though she had known him for years, and
+that, in each sally of his wit and each flash of his repartee he was but
+reviving memories of such displays in long-past years. As for Haire, no
+enchantment could be more complete; he found himself not only listened to
+but appealed to. The Chief asked him to correct him about some fact or
+other of recent history; he applied to him to relate some incident in a
+trial he had taken part in; and, greatest triumph of all, he was called on
+to decide some question about the dressing of Mrs. Sewell's hair, his
+award being accepted as the last judgment of connoisseurship.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lucy talked little, but seemed interested by all around her. It was a bit
+of high-life comedy, really amusing, and she had that mere suspicion&mdash;it
+was no more&mdash;of the honesty and loyalty of the talkers to give an
+added significance to all she saw and heard. This slight distrust,
+however, gave way, when Mrs. Sewell sat down beside her in the
+drawing-room, and talked to her of her father. Oh, how well she appeared
+to know him; how truly she read the guileless simplicity of his noble
+nature; how she distinguished&mdash;it was not all who did so&mdash;between
+his timid reserve and pride; how she saw that what savored of haughtiness
+was in reality an excess of humility shrouding itself from notice; how she
+dwelt on his love for children, and the instantaneous affection he
+inspired in them towards himself. Last of all, how she won the poor girl's
+heart as she said, &ldquo;It will never do to leave him there, Lucy; we must
+have him here, at home with us. I think you may intrust it to me; I
+generally find my way in these sort of things.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy could have fallen at her feet with gratitude as she heard these
+words, and she pressed her hand to her lips and kissed it fervently. &ldquo;Why
+isn't your brother here? Is he not in Dublin?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Sewell,
+suddenly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he is in town,&rdquo; stammered out Lucy, &ldquo;but grandpapa scarcely knows
+him, and when they did meet, it was most unfortunate. I 'll tell you all
+about it another time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have many confidences to make each other,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, with a
+sigh so full of sorrow that Lucy instinctively pressed her hand with
+warmth, as though to imply her trustfulness would, not be ill deposited.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last came the hour of leave-taking, and the Judge accompanied his
+guests to the door, and even bareheaded handed Lady Lendrick to her
+carriage. To each, as they said &ldquo;Good-night,&rdquo; he had some little
+appropriate speech,&mdash;a word or two of gracious compliment, uttered
+with all his courtesy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I call this little dinner a success, Lucy,&rdquo; said he, as he stood to say
+&ldquo;Good-night&rdquo; on the stairs. &ldquo;Lady Lendrick was unusually amiable, and her
+daughter-in-law is beyond praise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is indeed charming,&rdquo; said Lucy, fervently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I found the Colonel also agreeable,&mdash;less dictatorial than men of
+his class generally are. I suspect we shall get on well together with
+further acquaintance; but, as Haire said, I was myself to-night, and would
+have struck sparks out of the dullest rock, so that I must not impute to
+him what may only have been the reflex of myself. Ah, dear! there was a
+time when these exertions were the healthful stimulants of my life; now
+they only weary and excite,&mdash;good-night, dear child, good-night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As Lady Lendrick and her party drove homeward, not a word was uttered for
+some minutes after they had taken their seats. It was not till after they
+had passed out of the grounds, and gained the high-road, that she herself
+broke silence. &ldquo;Well, Dudley,&rdquo; said she at last, &ldquo;is he like my
+description? Was my portrait too highly colored?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite the reverse. It was a faint weak sketch of the great original. In
+all my life I never met such inordinate vanity and such overweening
+pretension. I give him the palm as the most conceited man and the greatest
+bore in Christendom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you wonder now if I could n't live with him?&rdquo; asked she, half
+triumphantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll not go that far. I think I could live with him if I saw my way to
+any advantage by it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm certain you could not! The very things you now reprobate are the few
+endurable traits about him. It is in the resources of his intense conceit
+he finds whatever renders him pleasant and agreeable. I wish you saw his
+other humor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can imagine it may not be all that one would desire; but still&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It comes well from you to talk of submitting and yielding,&rdquo; burst out
+Lady Lendrick. &ldquo;I certainly have not yet detected these traits in your
+character; and I tell you frankly, you and Sir William could not live a
+week under the same roof together. Don't you agree with me, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What should she know about it?&rdquo; said he, fiercely; and before she could
+reply, &ldquo;I don't suspect she knows a great deal about me,&mdash;she knows
+nothing at all about <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, would you like to live with him yourself, Lucy?&rdquo; asked Lady
+Lendrick.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't say I 'd <i>like</i> it, but I think it might be done,&rdquo; said she,
+faintly, and scarcely raising her eyes as she spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, then, my intractable temper is the cause of all our
+incompatibility; my only consolation is that I have a son and a
+daughter-in-law so charmingly endowed that their virtues are more than
+enough to outweigh my faults.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What I say is this,&rdquo; said the Colonel, sternly,&mdash;&ldquo;I think the man is
+a bore or a bully, but that he need n't be both if one does n't like it.
+Now I 'd consent to be bored, to escape being bullied, which is precisely
+the reverse of what you appear to have done.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am charmed with the perspicuity you display. I hope, Lucy, that it
+tends to the happiness of your married life to have a husband so well able
+to read character.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Apparently this was a double-headed shot, for neither spoke for several
+minutes.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare I almost wish he would put you to the test,&rdquo; said Lady
+Lendrick. &ldquo;I mean, I wish he'd ask you to the Priory.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I fancy it is what he means to do,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, in the same low
+tone,&mdash;&ldquo;at least he came to me when I was standing in the small
+drawing-room, and said, 'How would you endure the quiet stillness and
+uniformity of such a life as I lead here? Would its dulness overpower
+you?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, you said it would be paradise,&rdquo; broke in her Ladyship; &ldquo;you
+hinted all about your own resources, and such-like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She did no such thing; she took the pathetic line, put her handkerchief
+to her eyes, and implied how she would love it, as a refuge from the cruel
+treatment of a bad husband,&mdash;eh, am I right?&rdquo; Harsh and insolent as
+the words were, the accents in which they were uttered were far more so.
+&ldquo;Out with it, Madam! was it not something like that you said?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said she, gently. &ldquo;I told Sir William I was supremely happy, blessed
+in every accident and every relation of my life, and that hitherto I had
+never seen the spot which could not suit the glad temper of my heart.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You keep the glad temper confoundedly to yourself then,&rdquo; burst he out. &ldquo;I
+wish you were not such a niggard of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dudley, Dudley, I say,&rdquo; cried Lady Lendrick, in a tone of reproof.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have learned not to mind these amenities,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, in a quiet
+voice, &ldquo;and I am only surprised that Colonel Sewell thinks it worth while
+to continue them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it be your intention to become Sir William's guest, I must say such
+habits will require to be amended,&rdquo; said her Ladyship, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So they shall, mother. Your accomplished and amiable husband, as you once
+called him in a letter to me, shall only see us in our turtle moods, and
+never be suffered to approach our cage save when we are billing and
+cooing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The look of aversion he threw at his wife as he spoke was something that
+words cannot convey; and though she never raised eyes to meet it, a sickly
+pallor crept over her cheek as the blight fell on her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am to call on him to-morrow, by appointment. I wish he had not said
+twelve. One has not had his coffee by twelve; but as he said, 'I hope that
+will not be too early for you,' I felt it better policy to reply, 'By no
+means;' and so I must start as if for a journey.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does he mean by asking you to come at that hour? Have you any notion
+what his business is?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not the least. We were in the hall. I was putting on my coat, when he
+suddenly turned round and asked me if I could without inconvenience drop
+in about twelve.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder what it can be for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll tell you what I hope it may not be for! I hope it may not be to show
+me his conservatory, or his Horatian garden, as he pedantically called it,
+or his fish-ponds. If so, I think I 'll invite him some fine morning to
+turn over all my protested bills, and the various writs issued against me.
+Bore for Bore, I suspect we shall come out of the encounter pretty equal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has some rare gems. I'd not wonder if it was to get you to select a
+present for Lucy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I thought so, I'd take a jeweller with me, as though my friend, to
+give me a hint as to the value.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He admires you greatly, Lucy; he told me so as he took me downstairs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has immense success with men of that age: nothing over eighty seems
+able to resist her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This time she raised her eyes, and they met his, not with their former
+expression, but full of defiance, and of an insolent meaning, so that
+after a moment he turned away his gaze, and with a seeming struggle looked
+abashed and ashamed. &ldquo;The first change I will ask you to make in that
+house,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick, who had noticed this by-play, &ldquo;if ever you
+become its inmates, will be to dismiss that tiresome old hanger-on, Mr.
+Haire. I abhor him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My first reform will be in the sherry,&mdash;to get rid of that vile
+sugary compound of horrid nastiness he gives you After soup. The next will
+be the long-tailed black coach-horses. I don't think a man need celebrate
+his own funeral every time he goes out for a drive.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Haire,&rdquo; resumed Lady Lendrick, in a tone of severity, meant, perhaps, to
+repress all banter on a serious subject,&mdash;&ldquo;Haire not only supplies
+food to his vanity, but stimulates his conceit by little daily stories of
+what the world says of him. I wish he would listen to <i>me</i> on that
+subject,&mdash;I wish he would take <i>my</i> version of his place in
+popular estimation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I opine that the granddaughter should be got rid of,&rdquo; said the Colonel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is a fool,&mdash;only a fool,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think her a fool,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, slowly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't exactly mean so much; but that she has no knowledge of life, and
+knows nothing whatever of the position she is placed in, nor how to profit
+by it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd not even go that far,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, in the same quiet tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't pay too much attention to <i>that</i>,&rdquo; said the Colonel to his
+mother. &ldquo;It's one of her ways always to see something in every one that
+nobody else has discovered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I made that mistake once too often for my own welfare,&rdquo; said she, in a
+voice only audible to his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She tells me, mother, that she made that same mistake once too often for
+her own welfare; which being interpreted, means in taking me for her
+husband,&mdash;a civil speech to make a man in presence of his mother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I begin to think that politeness is not the quality any of us are eager
+about,&rdquo; said Lady Lendrick; &ldquo;and I must say I am not at all sorry that the
+drive is over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I had been permitted to smoke, you'd not have been distressed by any
+conversational excesses on my part,&rdquo; said the Colonel.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I shall know better another time, Dudley; and possibly-it would be as
+well to be suffocated with tobacco as half-choked with anger. Thank heaven
+we are at the door!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I take your horses as far as the Club?&rdquo; asked Sewell, as he handed
+her out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, but not to wait. You kept them on Tuesday night till past four
+o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On second thought, I'll walk,&rdquo; said he, turning away. &ldquo;Good-night;&rdquo; and
+leaving his wife to be assisted down the steps by the footman, he lighted
+his cigar, and walked away.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIII. A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING
+</h2>
+<p>
+The little lodging occupied by Sir Brook and young Lendrick was in a not
+very distinguished suburb near Cullen's Wood. It was in a small
+one-storied cottage, whose rickety gate bore the inscription &ldquo;Avoca Villa&rdquo;
+ on a black board, under which, in the form of permanence that indicated
+frequent changes of domicile, were the words, &ldquo;Furnished Apartments, and
+Board if required.&rdquo; A small enclosure, with three hollyhocks in a raised
+mound in the centre, and a luxurious crop of nettles around, served as
+garden: a narrow path of very rough shingle conducted to the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+The rooms within were very small, low, and meanly furnished; they bespoke
+both poverty and neglect; and while the broken windows, the cobwebbed
+ceiling, and the unwashed floor all indicated that no attention was
+bestowed on comfort or even decency, over the fireplace, in a large black
+frame, was a painting representing the genealogical tree of the house of
+the proprietor, Daniel O'Reardon, Esquire, the lineal descendant of
+Frenok-Dhubh-na-Bochlish O'Reardon, who was King of West Carbarry, a.d.
+703, and who, though at present only a doorkeeper in H. M. Court of
+Exchequer, had royal blood in his veins, and very kingly thoughts in his
+head.
+</p>
+<p>
+If a cruel destiny compelled Mr. O'Reardon to serve the Saxon, he &ldquo;took it
+out&rdquo; in a most hearty hatred of his patron. He denounced him when he
+talked, and he reviled him when he sang. He treasured up paragraphs of all
+the atrocities of the English press, and he revelled in the severe
+strictures which the Irish papers bestowed on them. So far as hating went,
+he was a true patriot.
+</p>
+<p>
+If some people opined that Mr. O'Reardon's political opinions rather
+partook of what was in vogue some sixty-odd years ago than what
+characterized a time nearer our own day, there were others, less generous
+critics, who scrupled not to say that he was a paid spy of the Government,
+and that all the secret organization of treason&mdash;all the mysterious
+plotting of rebellion that seems never to die completely out in Ireland&mdash;were
+known to and reported by this man to the Castle. Certain it was that he
+lived in a way his humble salary at the Four Courts could not have met,
+and indulged in convivial excesses far beyond the reach of his small
+income.
+</p>
+<p>
+When Sir Brook and Tom Lendrick became his lodgers, he speedily saw that
+they belonged to a class far above what usually resorted to his humble
+house. However studiously simple they might be in all their demands, they
+were unmistakably gentlemen; and this fact, coupled with their evident
+want of all employment or occupation, considerably puzzled Mr. O'Reardon,
+and set him a-thinking what they could be, who they were, and, as he
+phrased it, &ldquo;what they were at.&rdquo; No letters came for them, nor, as they
+themselves gave no names, was there any means of tracing their address;
+and to his oft-insinuated request, &ldquo;If any one asks for you, sir, by what
+name will I be able to answer?&rdquo; came the same invariable &ldquo;No one will
+call;&rdquo; and thus was Mr. O'Reardon reduced to designate them to his wife as
+the &ldquo;old chap&rdquo; and the &ldquo;young one,&rdquo;&mdash;titles which Sir Brook and Tom
+more than once overheard through the frail partitions of the ill-built
+house.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is not impossible that O'Reardon's peculiar habits and line of life
+disposed him to attach a greater significance to the seeming mystery that
+surrounded his lodgers than others might have ascribed; it is probable
+that custom had led him to suspect everything that was in any way
+suspicious. These men draw many a cover where there is no fox, but they
+rarely pass a gorse thicket and leave one undetected. His lodgers thus
+became to him a study. Had he been a man of leisure, he would have devoted
+the whole of it to their service; he would have dogged their steps,
+learned their haunts, and watched their acquaintances,&mdash;if they had
+any. Sunday was, however, his one free day, and by some inconceivable
+perversity they usually spent the entire of it at home.
+</p>
+<p>
+The few books they possessed bore no names, some of them were in foreign
+languages, and increased thereby Mr. O'Reardon's suspicious distrust; but
+none gave any clew to their owners. There was another reason for his
+eagerness and anxiety; for a long time back Ireland had been generally in
+a condition of comparative quiet and prosperity; there was less of
+distress, and, consequently, less of outrage. The people seemed at length
+to rely more upon themselves and their own industry than on the specious
+promises of trading politicians, and Mr. O'Reardon, whose functions, I
+fear, were not above reproach in the matter of secret information, began
+to fear lest some fine morning he might be told his occupation was gone,
+and that his employers no longer needed the fine intelligence that could
+smell treason, even by a sniff; he must, he said, do something to revive
+the memory of his order, or the chance was it would be extinguished
+forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had to choose between denouncing them as French emissaries or American
+sympathizers. A novel of Balzac's that lay on the table decided for the
+former, for he knew enough to be aware it was in French; and fortified
+with this fact, he proceeded to draw up his indictment for the Castle.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was, it must be confessed, a very meagre document; it contained little
+beyond the writer's own suspicions. Two men who were poor enough to live
+in Avoca Villa, and yet rich enough to do nothing for their livelihood,
+who gave no names, went out at unseasonable hours, and understood French,
+ought to be dangerous, and required to be watched, and therefore he gave
+an accurate description of their general appearance, age, and dress, at
+the office of the Private Secretary, and asked for his &ldquo;instructions&rdquo; in
+consequence.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. O'Reardon was not a bad portrait-painter with his pen, and in the case
+of Sir Brook there were peculiarities enough to make even a caricature a
+resemblance; his tall narrow head, his long drooping moustache, his
+massive gray eyebrows, his look of stern dignity, would have marked him,
+even without the singularities of dress which recalled the fashions of
+fifty years before.
+</p>
+<p>
+Little, indeed, did the old man suspect that his high-collared coat and
+bell-shaped hat were subjecting him to grave doubts upon his loyalty.
+Little did he think, as he sauntered at evening along the green lanes in
+this retired neighborhood, that his thoughts ought to have been on treason
+and bloodshed.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had come to the little lodging, it is true, for privacy. After his
+failure in that memorable interview with Sir William Lendrick, he had
+determined that he would not either importune the Viceroy for place, or
+would he be in any way the means of complicating the question between the
+Government and the Chief Baron by exciting the Lord-Lieutenant's interest
+in his behalf.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We must change our lodging, Tom,&rdquo; said he, when he came home on that
+night. &ldquo;I am desirous that, for the few days we remain here, none should
+trace nor discover us. I will not accept what are called compensations,
+nor will I live on here to be either a burden or a reproach to men who
+were once only my equals.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You found my worthy grandfather somewhat less tractable than you thought
+for, sir?&rdquo; asked Tom.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He was very fiery and very haughty; but on the whole, there was much that
+I liked in him. Such vitality in a man of his years is in itself a grand
+quality, and even in its aggressiveness suggests much to regard. He
+refused to hear of me for the vacant office, and he would not accept <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did he take your proposal to aid us by a loan?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never made it. The terms we found ourselves on after half an hour's
+discussion of other matters rendered such a project impossible.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Lucy, how did she behave through it all?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She was not there; I did not see her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that it turned out as I predicted,&mdash;a mere meeting to exchange
+amenities.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The amenities were not many, Tom; and I doubt much if your grandfather
+will treasure up any very delightful recollections of my acquaintance.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd like to see the man, woman, or child,&rdquo; burst out Tom, &ldquo;who ever got
+out of his cage without a scratch. I don't believe that Europe contains
+his equal for irascibility.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't dwell on these views of life,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, almost sternly.
+&ldquo;You, nor I, know very little what are the sources of those intemperate
+outbreaks we so often complain of,&mdash;what sore trials are ulcerating
+the nature, what agonizing maladies, what secret terrors, what visions of
+impending misery; least of all do we know or take count of the fact that
+it is out of these high-strung temperaments we obtain those thrilling
+notes of human passion and tenderness coarser natures never attain to. Let
+us bear with a passing discord in the instrument whose cadences can move
+us to very ecstasy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom hung his head in silence, but he certainly did not seem convinced. Sir
+Brook quietly resumed: &ldquo;How often have I told you that the world has more
+good than bad in it,&mdash;yes, and what's more, that as we go on in life
+this conviction strengthens in us, and that our best experiences are based
+on getting rid of our disbeliefs. Hear what happened me this morning. You
+know that for some days back I have been negotiating to raise a small loan
+of four hundred pounds to take us to Sardinia and start our mine. Mr.
+Waring, who was to have lent me this sum on the security of the mine
+itself, took it into his head to hesitate at the last hour, and inserted
+an additional clause that I should insure my life in his behalf.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was disconcerted, of course, by this,&mdash;so much so, that had I not
+bought a variety of tools and implements on trust, I believe I would have
+relinquished the bargain and tried elsewhere. It was, however, too late
+for this; I was driven to accept his terms, and, accredited with a printed
+formula from an insurance office, I waited on the doctor who was to
+examine me.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very brief investigation satisfied him that I was not seaworthy; he
+discovered I know not what about the valves of my heart, that implied
+mischief, and after 'percussing' me, as he called it, and placing his ear
+to my chest, he said, 'I regret to say, sir, that I cannot pronounce you
+insurable.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could have told him that I came of a long-lived race on either side;
+that during my life I had scarcely known an illness, that I had borne the
+worst climates without injury, and such-like,&mdash;but I forbore; I had
+too much deference for his station and his acquirements to set my judgment
+against them, and I arose to take my leave. It is just possible, though I
+cannot say I felt it, that his announcement might have affected me; at all
+events, the disappointment did so, and I was terrified about the
+difficulties in which I saw myself involved. I became suddenly sick, and I
+asked for a glass of water; before it came I had fainted, a thing that
+never in my whole life had befallen me. When, I rallied, he led me to talk
+of my usual habits and pursuits, and gradually brought me to the subject
+which had led me-to his house. 'What!' said he, 'ask for any security
+beyond the property itself! It is absurd; Waring is always-doing these
+things. Let me advance this money. I know a great deal more about you, Sir
+Brook, than you think; my friend Dr. Lendrick has spoken much of you, and
+of all your kindness to his son; and though you may not have heard of my
+name,&mdash;Beattie,&mdash;I am very familiar with yours.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In a word, Tom, he advanced the money. It is now in that writing-desk;
+and I have&mdash;I feel it&mdash;a friend the-more in the world. As I left
+his door, I could not help saying to myself, What signify a few days more
+or less of life, so long as such generous traits as this follow one to the
+last? He made me a happier man by his noble trust in me than if he had
+declared me a miracle of strength and vigor. Who is that looking in at the
+window, Tom? It's the second time I have seen a face there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom started to his feet and hurried to the door. There was, however, no
+one there; and the little lane was silent and deserted. He stopped a few
+minutes to listen, but not a footfall could be heard, and he returned to
+the room believing it must have been a mere illusion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us light candles, Tom, and have out our maps. I want to see whether
+Marseilles will not be our best and cheapest route to the island.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They were soon poring eagerly over the opened map, Sir Brook carefully
+studying all the available modes of travel; while Tom, be it owned, let
+his eyes wander from land to land, till following out the Danube to the
+Black Sea, he crossed over and stretched away into the mountain gorges of
+Circassia, where Schamyl and his brave followers were then fighting for
+liberty. For maps, like the lands they picture, never offer to two minds
+kindred thoughts; each follows out in space the hopes and ambitions that
+his heart is charged with; and where one reads wars and battle-fields,
+another but sees pastoral pleasures and a tranquil existence,&mdash;home
+and home-happiness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Tom; here I have it. These coasting-craft, whose sailing-lines are
+marked here, will take us and our traps to Cagliari for a mere trifle,&mdash;here
+is the route.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As the young man bent over the map, the door behind opened, and a stranger
+entered. &ldquo;So I have found you, Fossbrooke!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;though they
+insisted you had left Ireland ten days ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mercy on me! Lord Wilmington!&rdquo; said Sir Brook, as he shaded his eyes to
+stare at him. &ldquo;What could have brought you here?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell you,&rdquo; said he, dropping his voice. &ldquo;I read a description so
+very like you in the secret report this morning, that I sent my servant
+Curtis, who knows you well, to see if it was not yourself; when he came
+back to me&mdash;for I waited for him at the end of the lane&mdash;with
+the assurance that I was right, I came on here. I must tell you that I
+took the precaution to have your landlord detained, as if for examination,
+at the Under-Secretary's office; and he is the only one here who knows me.
+Mr. Lendrick, I hope you have not forgotten me? We met some months ago on
+the Shannon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What can I offer you?&rdquo; said Sir Brook. &ldquo;Shall it be tea? We were just
+going to have it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll take whatever you like to give me; but let us profit by the few
+moments I can stay. Tell me how was it you failed with the Chief Baron?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He wouldn't have me; that's all. He maintains his right to an undivided
+patronage, and will accept of no dictation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will he accept of your friend here? He has strong claims on him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As little as myself, my Lord; he grew eloquent on his public virtue, and
+of course became hopeless.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will he retire and let us compensate him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe not. He thinks the country has a vested interest in his
+capacity, and as he cannot be replaced, he has no right to retire.''
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He may make almost his own terms with us, Fossbrooke,&rdquo; said the Viceroy.
+&ldquo;We want to get rid of himself and an intractable Solicitor-General
+together. Will you try what can be done?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not I, my Lord. I have made my first and last advances in that quarter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet I believe you are our last chance. He told Pemberton yesterday
+you were the one man of ability that ever called on him with a message
+from a Viceroy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us leave him undisturbed in his illusion, my Lord.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd say, let us profit by it, Fossbrooke. I have been in search of you
+these eight days, to beg you would take the negotiation in hand. Come, Mr.
+Lendrick, you are interested in this; assist me in persuading Sir Brook to
+accept this charge. If he will undertake the mission, I am ready to give
+him ample powers to treat.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect, my Lord,&rdquo; said Tom, &ldquo;you do not know my grandfather. He is not
+a very manageable person to deal with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is for that reason I want to place him in the hands of my old friend
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, my Lord; it is quite hopeless. Had we never met, I might have
+come before him with some chance of success; but I have already prejudiced
+myself in his eyes, and our one interview was not very gratifying to
+either of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll not give in, Fossbrooke, even though I am well aware I can do
+nothing to requite the service I ask of you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We leave Ireland to-morrow evening. We have a project which requires our
+presence in the island of Sardinia. We are about to make our fortunes, my
+Lord, and I 'm sure you 're not the man to throw any obstacle in the way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me half an hour of your morning, Fossbrooke; half an hour will
+suffice. Drive out to the Priory; see the Chief Baron; tell him I
+intrusted the negotiation to you, as at once more delicate to each of us.
+You are disconnected with all party ties here. Say it is not a question of
+advancing this man or that,&mdash;that we well know how inferior must any
+successor be to himself, but that certain changes are all-essential to us.
+We have not&mdash;I may tell you in confidence&mdash;the right man as our
+law adviser in the House; and add, 'It is a moment to make your own terms;
+write them down and you shall have your reply within an hour,&mdash;a
+favorable one I may almost pledge myself it will be. At all events, every
+detail of the meeting is strictly between us, and on honor.' Come, now,
+Fossbrooke; do this for me as the greatest service I could entreat of
+you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot refuse you any longer. I will go. I only premise that I am to
+limit myself strictly to the statement you shall desire me to repeat. I
+know nothing of the case; and I cannot be its advocate.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so. Give me your card. I will merely write these words,&mdash;'See
+Sir Brook for me.&mdash;Wilmington.' Our object is his resignation, and we
+are prepared to pay handsomely for it. Now, a word with you, Mr. Lendrick.
+I heard most honorable mention of you yesterday from the vice-provost; he
+tells me that your college career was a triumph so long as you liked it,
+and that you have abilities for any walk in life. Why not continue, then,
+on so successful a path? Why not remain, take out your degree, and emulate
+that distinguished relative who has thrown such lustre on your family?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;First of all, my Lord, you have heard me much overrated. I am not at all
+the man these gentlemen deem me; secondly, if I were, I 'd rather bring my
+abilities to any pursuit my friend here could suggest. I 'd rather be <i>his</i>
+companion than be my grandfather's rival. You have heard what he said
+awhile ago,&mdash;we are going to seek our fortune.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said to make it,&rdquo; said Lord Wilmington, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be it so, my Lord. <i>I 'll</i> seek, and <i>he 'll</i> find; at all
+events, I shall be his companion; and I'm a duller dog than I think myself
+if I do not manage to be the better of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not the only one he has fascinated,&rdquo; said the Viceroy, in a
+whisper. &ldquo;I 'm not sure I 'd disenchant you if I had the power.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Must I positively undertake this negotiation?&rdquo; asked Fossbrooke, with a
+look of entreaty.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know I shall fail.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't believe it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, as Lady Macbeth says, if we fail <i>we fail</i>; and though
+murdering a king be an easier thing than muzzling a Chief Baron,&mdash;here
+goes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As he said this, the door was gently moved, and a head protruded into the
+room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; cried Tom, springing rapidly towards the door; but all was
+noiseless and quiet, and no one to be seen. &ldquo;I believe we are watched
+here,&rdquo; said he, coming back into the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-night, then. Let me have your report as early as may be, Fossbrooke.
+Good-night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIV. A MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+</h2>
+<p>
+The morning after this interview was that on which the Chief Baron had
+invited Colonel Sewell to inspect his gardens and hothouses,&mdash;a
+promise of pleasure which, it is but fair to own, the Colonel regarded
+with no extravagant delight. To his thinking, the old Judge was an
+insupportable bore. His courtesy, his smartness, his anecdotes, his
+reminiscences were all Boredom. He was only endurable when by the excess
+of his conceit he made himself ridiculous. Then alone did Sewell relish
+his company; for he belonged to that class of men, and it is a class, who
+feel their highest enjoyment whenever they witness any trait in human
+nature that serves to disparage its dignity or tarnish its lustre.
+</p>
+<p>
+That a man of unquestionable ability and power like the Chief Baron should
+render himself absurd through his vanity, was a great compensation to such
+a person as Sewell. To watch the weaknesses and note the flaws in a great
+nature, to treasure up the consolation that, after all, these &ldquo;high
+intelligences&rdquo; occasionally make precious fools of themselves, are very
+congenial pastimes to small folk. Perhaps, indeed, they are the sole
+features of such men they are able to appreciate, and, like certain
+reptiles, they never venture to bite save where corruption has preceded
+them.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nothing in his manner betrayed this tendency; he was polished and
+courteous to a degree. A very critical eye might have detected in his
+bearing that he had been long a subordinate. His deference was a little&mdash;a
+very little&mdash;overstrained; he listened with a slight tinge of
+over-attention; and in his humility as he heard an order, and his activity
+as he obeyed it, you could read at once the aide-decamp in waiting.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is not necessary to remind the reader that all this lacquer of good
+breeding covered a very coarse and vulgar nature. In manner he was
+charming,&mdash;his approach, his address, his conversation were all
+perfect; he knew well when to be silent,&mdash;when to concur by a smile
+with what he was not expected to confirm by a word,&mdash;when to seem
+suddenly confronted with a new conviction, and how to yield assent as
+though coerced to what he would rather have resisted. In a word, he was
+perfect in all the training of those superb poodles who fetch and carry
+for their masters, that they may have the recompense of snarling at all
+the rest of mankind.
+</p>
+<p>
+As there are heaven-born doctors, lawyers, divines, and engineers, so are
+there men specially created for the antechamber, and Sewell was one of
+them.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old Judge had given orders for a liberal breakfast. He deemed a
+soldier's appetite would be a hearty one, and he meant to treat him
+hospitably. The table was therefore very generously spread, and Sewell
+looked approvingly at the fare, and ventured on a few words of compliment
+on the ample preparations before him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is the only real breakfast-table I have seen since I left Calcutta,&rdquo;
+ said he, smiling graciously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You do me honor, sir,&rdquo; replied the old man, who was not quite sure
+whether or not he felt pleased to be complimented on a mere domestic
+incident.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell saw the hitch at once, and resumed: &ldquo;I remember an observation Lord
+Commorton made me when I joined his staff in India. I happened to make
+some remark on a breakfast set out pretty much like this, and he said,
+'Bear in mind, Captain Sewell, that when a man who holds a high function
+sits down to a well-served breakfast, it means that he has already
+completed the really important work of the day. The full head means the
+empty stomach.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Excellency was right, sir; had he always been inspired with
+sentiments of equal wisdom, we should never have been involved in that
+unhappy Cantankankarabad war.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a very disastrous affair, indeed,&rdquo; sighed Sewell; &ldquo;I was through
+the whole of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I first heard of the project,&rdquo; continued the Judge, &ldquo;I remarked to a
+friend who was with me,&mdash;one of the leading men at the Bar,&mdash;'This
+campaign will tarnish our arms, and imperil our hold on India. The
+hill-tribes are eminently warlike, and however specious in their promises
+to us, their fidelity to their chiefs has never been shaken.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If your judgment had been listened to, it would have saved us a heavy
+reverse, and saved me a very painful wound; both bones were fractured
+here,&rdquo; said Sewell, showing his wrist.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Chief Baron scarcely deigned a glance at the cicatrix; he was high
+above such puny considerations. He was at that moment Governor-General of
+India and Prime Minister of England together. He was legislating for
+hundreds of millions of dark-skins, and preparing his explanations of his
+policy for the pale faces at home.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Mark my words, Haire,' said I,&rdquo; continued the Judge, with increased
+pomposity of manner, &ldquo;'this is the beginning of insurrection in India.' We
+have a maxim in law, Colonel Sewell, Like case, like rule. So was it
+there. May I help you to this curry?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, my Lord, I was beginning to forget how hungry I was. Shall I
+be deemed impertinent if I ask how you obtained your marvellous&mdash;for
+it is marvellous&mdash;knowledge of India?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as I know the Japanese constitution; just as I know Central Africa;
+just as I know, and was able to quote some time back, that curious chapter
+of the Brehon laws on substitutes in penal cases. My rule of life has
+been, never to pass a day without increasing the store of my
+acquirements.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all this with the weighty charge and labor of your high office.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; I have been eighteen years on the Bench. I have delivered in
+that time some judgments which have come to be deemed amongst the highest
+principles of British law. I have contributed largely to the periodical
+literature of the time. In a series of papers&mdash;you may not have heard
+of them&mdash;signed 'Icon,' in the 'Lawyer's Treasury of Useful Facts,' I
+have defended the Bar against the aggressive violence of the Legislature,
+I hope it is not too much to say, triumphantly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I remember Judge Beale, our Indian Chief-Justice, referring to those
+papers as the most splendid statement of the position and claims of the
+barrister in Great Britain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beale was an ass, sir; his law was a shade below his logic,&mdash;both
+were pitiable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed?&mdash;yes, a little more gravy. Is your cook a Provençal? that
+omelette would seem to say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My cook is a woman, and an Irishwoman, sir. She came to me from Lord
+Manners, and, I need not say, with the worst traditions of her art, which,
+under Lady Lendrick's training, attained almost to the dignity of
+poisoning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell could not restrain himself any longer, but laughed out at this
+sudden outburst. The old Judge was, however, pleased to accept the emotion
+as complimentary; he smiled and went on: &ldquo;I recognized her aptitude, and
+resolved to train her, and to this end I made it a practice to detain her
+every morning after prayers, and read to her certain passages from
+approved authors on cookery, making her experiment on the receipts for the
+servants' hall. We had at first some slight cases of illness, but not more
+serious than colic and violent cramps. In the end she was successful, sir,
+and has become what you see her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She would be a <i>cordon bleu</i> in Paris.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will take care, sir, that she hears of your approval. Would you not
+like a glass of Maraschino to finish with?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have just tasted your brandy, and it is exquisite.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I cannot offer you a cigar, Colonel; but you are at liberty to smoke if
+you have one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I might have a stroll in that delicious garden that I see there, I
+could ask nothing better. Ah, my Lord,&rdquo; said he, as they sauntered down a
+richly scented alley, &ldquo;India has nothing like this,&mdash;I doubt if
+Paradise has any better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean to return to the East?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not if I can help it,&mdash;not if an exchange is possible. The fact is,
+my Lord, my dear wife's health makes India impossible so far as she is
+concerned; the children, too, are of the age that requires removal to
+Europe; so that, if I go back, I go back alone.&rdquo; He said this with a voice
+of deep depression, and intending to inspire the sorrow that overwhelmed
+him. The old Judge, however, fancied he had heard of heavier calamities in
+life than living separated from the wife of his bosom; he imagined, at
+least, that with courage and fortitude the deprivation might be endured;
+so he merely twitched the corners of his mouth in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Colonel misread his meaning, and went on: &ldquo;Aspiring to nothing in life
+beyond a home and home-happiness, it is, of course, a heavy blow to me to
+sacrifice either my career or my comfort. I cannot possibly anticipate a
+return earlier than eight or ten years; and who is to count upon eight or
+ten years in that pestilent climate? Assuredly not a man already broken
+down by wounds and jungle fever!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The justice of the remark was, perhaps, sufficient for the Chief Baron. He
+paid no attention to its pathetic side, and <i>so</i> did not reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell began to lose patience, but he controlled himself, and, after a few
+puffs of his cigar, went on: &ldquo;If it were not for the children, I 'd take
+the thing easy enough. Half-pay is a beggarly thing, but I 'd put up with
+it. I 'm not a man of expensive tastes. If I can relish thoroughly such
+sumptuous fare as you gave me this morning, I can put up with very humble
+diet. I 'm a regular soldier in that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An excellent quality, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy, of course, would suffer. There are privations which fall very
+heavily on a woman, and a woman, too, who has always been accustomed to a
+good deal of luxury.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Chief bowed an assent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose I might get a depot appointment for a year or two. I might also&mdash;if
+I sold out&mdash;manage a barrack-mastership, or become an inspector of
+yeomanry, or some such vulgar makeshift; but I own, my Lord, when a man
+has filled the places I have,&mdash;held staff appointments,&mdash;been a
+private secretary,&mdash;discharged high trusts, too, for in Mooraghabad I
+acted as Deputy-Resident for eight months,&mdash;it does seem a precious
+come-down to ask to be made a paymaster in a militia regiment, or a
+subaltern in the mounted police.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Civil life is always open to a man of activity and energy,&rdquo; said the
+Judge, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If civil life means a profession, it means the sort of labor a man is
+very unfit for after five-and-thirty. The Church, of course, is open on
+easier terms; but I have scruples about the Church. I really could not
+take orders without I could conscientiously say, This is a walk I feel
+called to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An honorable sentiment, sir,&rdquo; was the dry rejoinder.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that the end will be, I suppose, one of these days I shall just repack
+my bullock-trunk, and go back to the place from whence I came, with the
+fate that attends such backward journeys!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The Chief Baron made no remark. He stooped to fasten, a fallen carnation
+to the stick it had been attached to, and then resumed his walk. Sewell
+was so provoked by the sense of failure&mdash;for it had been a direct
+assault&mdash;that he walked along silent and morose. His patience could
+endure no longer, and he was ready now to resent whatever should annoy
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you any of the requirements, sir, that civil services demand?&rdquo; asked
+the Judge, after a long pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I take it I have such as every educated gentleman possesses,&rdquo; replied
+Sewell, tartly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what may these be, in your estimation?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can read and write, I know the first three rules of arithmetic, and I
+believe these are about the qualifications that fit a man for a place in
+the Cabinet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right, sir. With these, and the facility to talk platitudes in
+Parliament, a man may go very far and very high in life. I see that you
+know the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell, for a moment, scarcely knew whether to accept the speech as irony
+or approval; but a sidelong glance showed him that the old man's face had
+resumed its expression of mingled insolence and vanity, and convinced him
+that he was now sincere. &ldquo;The men,&rdquo; said the Judge, pompously, &ldquo;who win
+their way to high station in these days are either the crafty tricksters
+of party or the gross flatterers of the people; and whenever a man of
+superior mould is discovered, able to leave his mark on the age, and
+capable of making his name a memory, they have nothing better to offer
+him, as their homage, than an entreaty that he would resign his office and
+retire.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I go with every word you say, my Lord,&rdquo; cried Sewell, with a well-acted
+enthusiasm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want no approval, sir; I can sustain my opinions without a following!&rdquo;
+ A long silence ensued; neither was disposed to speak: at last the Judge
+said,&mdash;and he now spoke in a more kindly tone, divested alike of
+passion and of vanity,&mdash;&ldquo;Your friends must see if something cannot be
+done for you, Colonel Sewell. I have little doubt but that you have many
+and warm friends. I speak not of myself; I am but a broken reed to depend
+on. Never was there one with less credit with his party. I might go
+farther, and say, never was there one whose advocacy would be more sure to
+damage a good cause; therefore exclude <i>me</i> in all questions of your
+advancement. If you could obliterate our relationship, it might possibly
+serve you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am too proud of it, my Lord, to think so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; said he, with a sigh, &ldquo;it is possibly a thing a man need not
+feel ashamed of; at least I hope as much. But we must take the world as it
+is, and when we want the verdict of public opinion, we must not presume to
+ask for a special jury. What does that servant want? Will you have the
+kindness to ask him whom he is looking for?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a visitor's card, my Lord,&rdquo; said Sewell, handing it to the old man
+as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is some writing on it. Do me the favor to read it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell took the card and read, &ldquo;See Sir B. for me.&mdash;Wilmington. Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke.&rdquo; The last words Sewell spoke in a voice barely above a
+whisper, for a deadly sickness came over him, and he swayed to and fro
+like one about to faint.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! does he return to the charge?&rdquo; cried the old man, fiercely. &ldquo;The
+Viceroy was a diplomatist once. Might it not have taught him that, after a
+failure, it would be as well to employ another envoy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have seen this gentleman already, then?&rdquo; asked Sewell, in a low faint
+tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half together,&mdash;an hour and half
+that neither of us will easily forget.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I conjecture, then, that he made no very favorable impression upon you,
+my Lord?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, you go too fast. I have said nothing to warrant your surmise; nor am
+I one to be catechised as to the opinions I form of other men. It is
+enough on the present occasion if I say I do not desire to receive Sir
+Brook Fossbrooke, accredited though he be from so high a quarter. Will you
+do me the very great favor&rdquo;&mdash;and now his voice became almost
+insinuating in its tone&mdash;&ldquo;will you so deeply oblige me ate to see him
+for me? Say that I am prevented by the state of my health; that the
+rigorous injunctions of my doctor to avoid all causes of excitement&mdash;lay
+stress on excitement&mdash;deprive me of the honor of receiving him in
+person; but that <i>you</i>&mdash;mention our relationship&mdash;have been
+deputed by me to hear, and if necessary to convey to me, any communication
+he may have to make. You will take care to impress upon him that if the
+subject-matter of his visit be the same as that so lately discussed
+between ourselves, you will avail yourself of the discretion confided to
+you not to report it to me. That my nerves have not sufficiently recovered
+from the strain of that excitement to return to a topic no less full of
+irritating features than utterly hopeless of all accommodation. Mind, sir,
+that you employ the word as I give it,&mdash;'accommodation.' It is a
+Gallicism, but all the better, where one desires to be imperative, and yet
+vague. You have your instructions, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I think I understand what you desire me to do. My only difficulty is
+to know whether the matters Sir Brook Fossbrooke may bring forward be the
+same as those you discussed together. If I had any clew to these topics, I
+should at once be in a position to say, These are themes I must decline to
+present to the Chief Baron.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have no need to know them, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, haughtily. &ldquo;You
+are in the position of an attesting witness; you have no dealing with the
+body of the document. Ask Sir Brook the question as I have put it, and
+reply as I have dictated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell stood for a moment in deep thought. Had the old man but known over
+what realms of space his mind was wandering,&mdash;what troubles and
+perplexities that brain was encountering,&mdash;he might have been more
+patient and more merciful as he gazed on him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think, sir, I have confided to you any very difficult or very
+painful task,&rdquo; said the Judge at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, my Lord,&rdquo; replied he, quickly; &ldquo;my anxiety is only
+that I may acquit myself to your perfect satisfaction. I 'll go at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will find me here whenever you want me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell bowed, and went his way; not straight towards the house, however,
+but into a little copse at the end of the garden, to recover his
+equanimity and collect himself. Of all the disasters that could befall
+him, he knew of none he was less ready to confront than the presence of
+Sir Brook Fossbrooke in the same town with himself. No suspicion ever
+crossed his mind that he would come to Ireland. The very last he had heard
+of him was in New Zealand, where it was said he was about to settle. What,
+too, could be his business with the Chief Baron? Had he discovered their
+relationship, and was he come to denounce and expose him? No,&mdash;evidently
+not. The Viceroy's introduction of him could not point in this direction,
+and then the old Judge's own manner negatived this conjecture. Had he
+heard but one of the fifty stories Sir Brook could have told of him, there
+would be no question of suffering him to cross his threshold.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How shall I meet him? how shall I address him?&rdquo; muttered he again and
+again to himself, as he walked to and fro in a perfect agony of trouble
+and perplexity. With almost any other man in the world, Sewell would have
+relied on his personal qualities to carry him through a passage of
+difficulty. He could assume a temper of complete imperturbability; he
+could put on calm, coldness, deference, if needed, to any extent; he could
+have acted his part&mdash;it would have been mere acting&mdash;as man of
+honor and man of courage to the life, with any other to confront him but
+Sir Brook.
+</p>
+<p>
+This, however, was the one man on earth who knew him,&mdash;the one man by
+whose mercy he was able to hold up his head and maintain his station; and
+that this one man should now be here! here, within a few yards of where he
+stood!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could murder him as easily as I go to meet him,&rdquo; muttered Sewell, as he
+turned towards the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
+</h2>
+<p>
+As Sir Brook sat in the library waiting for the arrival of the Chief
+Baron, Lucy Lendrick came in to look for a book she had been reading.
+&ldquo;Only think, sir,&rdquo; said she, flushing deeply with joy and astonishment
+together,&mdash;&ldquo;to find you here! What a delightful surprise!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have come, my dear child,&rdquo; said he, gravely, &ldquo;to speak with Sir William
+on a matter of some importance; and evidently he is not aware that my
+moments are precious, for I have been here above half an hour alone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But now that I am with you,&rdquo; said she, coquettishly, &ldquo;you 'll surely not
+be so churlish of your time, will you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is no churlishness, my darling Lucy, in honest thrift. I have
+nothing to give away.&rdquo; The deep sadness of his voice showed how intensely
+his words were charged with a stronger significance. &ldquo;We are off
+to-night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-night!&rdquo; cried she, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Lucy. It's no great banishment,&mdash;only to an island in the
+Mediterranean, and Tom came up here with me in the vague, very vague hope
+he might see you. I left him in the shrubbery near the gate, for he would
+not consent to come farther.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll go to him at once. We shall meet again,&rdquo; said she, as she opened
+the sash-door and hastened down the lawn at speed.
+</p>
+<p>
+After another wait of full a quarter of an hour, Foss-brooke's patience
+became exhausted, and he drew nigh the bell to summon a servant; his hand
+was on the rope, when the door opened, and Sewell entered. Whatever
+astonishment Fossbrooke might have felt at this unexpected appearance,
+nothing in his manner or look betrayed it. As for Sewell, all his
+accustomed ease had deserted him, and he came forward with an air of
+assumed swagger, but his color came and went, and his hands twitched
+almost convulsively.
+</p>
+<p>
+He bowed, and, smiling courteously, invited Fossbrooke to be seated.
+Haughtily drawing himself up to his full height, Sir Brook said, in his
+own deep sonorous voice, &ldquo;There can be nothing between us, sir, that
+cannot be dismissed in a moment&mdash;and as we stand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As you please, sir,&rdquo; rejoined Sewell, with an attempt at the same haughty
+tone. &ldquo;I have been deputed by my stepfather, the Chief Baron, to make his
+excuses for not receiving you,&mdash;his health forbids the excitement. It
+is his-wish that you may make to <i>me</i> whatever communication you had
+destined for <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which I refuse, sir, at once,&rdquo; interrupted Sir Brook. &ldquo;I opine, then,
+there is no more to be said,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a faint smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing more, sir,&mdash;not a word; unless perhaps you will be gracious
+enough to explain to the Chief Baron the reasons&mdash;they cannot be
+unknown to you&mdash;why I refuse all and any communication with Colonel
+Sewell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no presumption to read your mind and know your thoughts,&rdquo; said
+Sewell, with quiet politeness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would discover nothing in either to your advantage, sir,&rdquo; said
+Fossbrooke, defiantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Might I add, sir,&rdquo; said Sewell, with an easy smile, &ldquo;that all your
+malevolence cannot exceed my indifference to it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Fossbrooke waived his hand haughtily, as though to dismiss the subject and
+all discussion of it, and after a few seconds' pause said: &ldquo;We have a
+score that must be settled one day. I have deferred the reckoning out of
+reverence to the memory of one whose name must not be uttered between us,
+but the day for it shall come. Meanwhile, sir, you shall pay me interest
+on your debt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you assume me to owe you?&rdquo; asked Sewell, whose agitation could no
+longer be masked.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would laugh if I said, your character before the world and the repute
+through which men keep your company; but you will not laugh&mdash;no, sir,
+not even smile&mdash;when I say that you owe me the liberty by which you
+are at large, instead of being, as I could prove you, a forger and a
+felon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell threw a hurried and terrified look around the room, as though there
+might possibly be some to overhear the words; he grasped the back of a
+chair to steady himself, and in the convulsive effort seemed as if he was
+about to commit some act of violence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None of that, sir,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, folding his arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I meant nothing; I intended nothing; I was faint, and wanted support,&rdquo;
+ stammered out Sewell, in a broken voice. &ldquo;What do you mean by interest?
+How am I to pay interest on an indefinite sum?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It may relieve you of some anxiety to learn that I am not speaking of
+money in the interest I require of you. What I want&mdash;what I shall
+exact&mdash;is this: that you and yours&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped and grew
+scarlet; the fear lest something coarse or offensive might fall from him
+in a moment of heat and anger arrested his words, and he was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell saw all the difficulty. A less adroit man would have deemed the
+moment favorable to assert a triumph; Sewell was too acute for this, and
+waited without speaking a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My meaning is this,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, in a voice of emotion. &ldquo;There is a
+young lady here for whom I have the deepest interest. I desire that, so
+long as she lives estranged from her father's roof, she should not be
+exposed to other influences than such as she has met there. She is new to
+life and the world, and I would not that she should make acquaintance with
+them through any guidance save of her own nearest and dearest friends.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hear, sir; but, I am free to own, I greatly mistrust myself to
+appreciate your meaning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sorry for it,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, sighing. &ldquo;I wanted to convey my hope
+that in your intercourse here Miss Lendrick might be spared the perils of&mdash;of&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My wife's friendship, you would say, sir,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a perfect
+composure of voice and look.
+</p>
+<p>
+Fossbrooke hung his head. Shame and sorrow alike crushed him down. Oh that
+the day should come when he could speak thus of Frank Dillon's daughter!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will not say with what pain I hear you, Sir Brook,&rdquo; said Sewell, in a
+low gentle voice. &ldquo;I am certain that you never uttered such a speech
+without much suffering. It will alleviate your fears when I tell you that
+we only remain a few days in town. I have taken a country house, some
+sixty or seventy miles from the capital, and we mean to live there
+entirely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am satisfied,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, whose eagerness to make reparation was
+now extreme.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course I shall mention nothing of this to my wife,&rdquo; said Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not, sir; save with such an explanation as I could give of my
+meaning, it would be an outrage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was not aware that there was&mdash;that there could be&mdash;an
+explanation,&rdquo; said Sewell, quietly; and then seeing the sudden flash that
+shot from the old man's eyes, he added hastily, &ldquo;This is far too painful
+to dwell on; let it suffice, sir, that I fully understand you, and that
+you shall be obeyed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask no more,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, bowing slightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will comprehend, Sir Brook,&rdquo; resumed Sewell, &ldquo;that as I am precluded
+from making this conversation known to my wife, I shall not be able to
+limit any intimacy between her and Miss Lendrick farther than by such
+intimations and hints as I may offer without exciting suspicion. It might
+happen, for instance, that in coming up to town we should be Sir William's
+guests. Am I to suppose that you interdict this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope I am not capable of such a condition,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, flushing,
+for at every step and stage of the negotiation he felt that his zeal had
+outrun his judgment, and that he was attempting not only more than he
+could, but more than he ought to do.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In fairness, Sir Brook,&rdquo; said Sewell, with an assumed candor that sat
+very well on him, &ldquo;I ought to tell you that your conditions are very easy
+ones My wife has come to this country to recruit her health and look after
+her children. I myself shall probably be on my way back to India soon
+after Christmas. Our small means totally preclude living in the gay world;
+and,&rdquo; added he, with a laugh, &ldquo;if we really had any blandishments or
+captivations at our disposal, they would be best bestowed on the Horse
+Guards, to extend my leave, or assist me to an exchange.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was high art in the way in which Sewell had so contrived to get the
+old man involved in the conflict of his own feelings that he was actually
+grateful for the easy and even familiar tone employed towards him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have wounded this man deeply,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke to himself. &ldquo;I have said
+to him things alike unfeeling and ungenerous, and yet he has temper enough
+to treat me amicably, even courteously.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was almost on his lips to say that he had still some influence with the
+Horse Guards, that a great man there had been one of his most intimate
+friends in life, and that he was ready to do anything in his power with
+him, when a sudden glance at Sewell's face recalled him at once to
+himself, and he stammered out, &ldquo;I will detain you no longer, sir. Be kind
+enough to explain to the Lord Chief Baron that my communication was of a
+character that could not be made indirectly. His Excellency's name on my
+card probably suggested as much. It might be proper to add that the
+subject was one solely attaching to his Lordship and to his Lordship's
+interest. He will himself understand what I mean.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell bowed acquiescence. As he stood at the half-open door, he was
+disposed to offer his hand. It was a bold step, but he knew if it should
+succeed it would be a great victory. The opportunity was too good to be
+lost, and just as Sir Brook turned to say good-morning, Sewell, like one
+carried away by a sudden impulse, held out his hand, and said, &ldquo;You may
+trust me, Sir Brook.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you wish me to do so, sir, let me not touch your hand,&rdquo; said the old
+man, with a look of stern and haughty defiance, and he strode out without
+a farewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell staggered back into the room and sat down. A clammy cold
+perspiration covered his face and forehead, for the rancor that filled his
+heart sickened him like a malady. &ldquo;You shall pay for this, by heaven! you
+shall,&rdquo; muttered he, as he wiped the great drops from his brow. &ldquo;The old
+fool himself has taught me where he was vulnerable, and as I live he shall
+feel it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Lordship wants to see you, sir; he is in the garden,&rdquo; said a servant;
+and Sewell rose and followed him. He stopped twice as he went to compose
+his features and regain his calm. On the last time he even rehearsed the
+few words and the smile by which he meant to accost the Judge. The little
+artifice was, however, forestalled, as Sir William met him abruptly with
+the words, &ldquo;What a time you have been, sir,&mdash;forty-eight minutes by
+my watch!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you, my Lord, I'd have made it shorter if I could,&rdquo; said Sewell,
+with a smile of some significance.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am unable to see why you could not have done so. The charge I gave you
+was to report to me, not to negotiate on your own part.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor did I, my Lord. Sir Brook Fossbrooke distinctly declared that he
+would only communicate with yourself personally,&mdash;that what he
+desired to say referred to yourself, and should be answered by yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On hearing which, sir, you withdrew?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So far as your Lordship was concerned, no more was said between us. What
+passed after this I may be permitted to call private.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, sir! You see a person in <i>my</i> house, at <i>my</i> instance,
+and with <i>my</i> instructions,&mdash;who comes to see and confer with <i>me</i>;
+and you have the hardihood to tell me that you took that opportunity to
+discuss questions which you call private!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust, my Lord, you will not press me in this matter; my position is a
+most painful one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is worse than painful, sir; it is humiliating. But,&rdquo; added he, after a
+short pause, &ldquo;I have reason to be grateful to you. You have rescued me
+from, perhaps, a very grave indiscretion. Your position&mdash;your wife's
+health&mdash;your children's welfare had all interested me. I might have&mdash;No
+matter what, sir. I have recovered the balance of my mind. I am myself
+again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My Lord, I will be open with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will accept of no forced confidences, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, waving his
+hand haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are not forced, my Lord, farther than my dislike to give you pain
+renders them so. The man to whom you sent me this morning is no stranger
+to me&mdash;would that he had been!&mdash;would that I had never known nor
+heard of him! Very few words will explain why, my Lord. I only entreat
+that, before I say them, they may be in strictest confidence between us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If they require secrecy, sir, they shall have it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite enough, my Lord,&mdash;amply sufficient for me is this assurance.
+This person, then, my Lord, was the old friend and brother officer of Sir
+Frank Dillon, my father-in-law. They lived as young men in closest
+friendship together; shared perils, amusements, and purse together. For
+many years nothing occurred to interrupt the relations between them,
+though frequent remonstrances from Dillon's family against the intimacy
+might possibly have caused a coolness; for the world had begun to talk of
+Fossbrooke with a certain distrust, comparing his mode of living with the
+amount of his fortune, and half hinting that his successes at play were
+more than accidental.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still Dillon held to him; and to break the tie at last, his family
+procured an Indian appointment for him, and sent him to Calcutta.
+Fossbrooke no sooner heard of it than he sold off his town house and
+horses, and actually sailed in the same packet with him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us sit down, Colonel Sewell; I am wearied with walking, and I should
+like to hear the remainder of this story.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will make it very brief, my Lord. Here is a nice bench to rest on.
+Arrived in India, they commenced a style of living the most costly and
+extravagant imaginable. Their receptions, their dinners, their equipages,
+their retinues, completely eclipsed the splendors of the native princes.
+For a while these were met promptly by ready money; later on came bills,
+at first duly met, and at last dishonored. On investigation, however, it
+was found that the greater number&mdash;far the greater number&mdash;of
+the acceptances were issued by Dillon alone,&mdash;a circumstance which
+puzzled none so much as Dillon himself, who never remembered the
+emergencies that had called for them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They were forgeries by Fossbrooke,&rdquo; said the Judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right, my Lord, they were, but so adroitly done that Dillon was
+the first to declare the signatures his own; nor was the fraud ever
+discovered. To rescue his friend, as it were, Dillon sold off everything,
+and paid, I know not what amount, and they both left for Ceylon, where
+Dillon was named Commander of the Forces.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here Dillon married, and, on the birth of his first child, Fossbrooke was
+the godfather, their affection being stronger than ever. Once more the
+life of extravagance burst forth, and now, besides the costly household
+and reckless expenditure, the stories of play became rife and frequent,
+several young fellows being obliged to leave the service and sell their
+commissions to meet their debts. The scandal reached England, and Dillon
+was given his choice to resign or resume active service at his old rank.
+He accepted the last, and went back to India. For a while they were
+separated. My father-in-law made a brilliant campaign, concluding with the
+victory of Atteyghur. He was named Political Resident at the seat of
+government, and found himself in the receipt of a large revenue, and might
+in a few years have become wealthy and honored. His evil genius, however,
+was soon at his side. Fossbrooke arrived, as he said, to see him before
+leaving for Europe; he never left him till his death. From that day dated
+my father-in-law's inevitable ruin. Maladministration, corruption, forced
+loans on every side. Black-mail was imposed on all the chiefs, and a
+system of iniquity instituted that rendered the laws a farce, and the
+office of judge a degradation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Driven almost to desperation by his approaching ruin, and yet blind to
+the cause of it, Sir Frank took service against the Affghans, and fell,
+severely wounded, at Walhalla. Fossbrooke followed him to the Hills, where
+he went to die. The infatuation of that fatal man was unbroken, and on his
+deathbed he not only confided to him all the deeds and documents that
+concerned his fortune, but gave him the guardianship and control of his
+daughter. In the very last letter he ever penned are these words: 'Scandal
+may some day or other dare to asperse him (Sir Brook),&mdash;the best have
+no immunity on that score,&mdash;but I charge you, however fortune may
+deal with you, share it with him if he need it; your father never had so
+true, so noble, so generous a friend. Have full courage in any course he
+approves of, and never distrust yourself so completely as when he differs
+from you; above all, believe no ill of him.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have seen this letter,&mdash;I have read it more than once; and with my
+full knowledge of the man, with my memory stored with stories about him,
+it was very hard to see him exercise an influence in my house, and a power
+over my wife. For a while I tried to respect what had been the faith of
+her childhood; I could not bear to destroy what formed one of the links
+that bound her to her father's memory; but the man's conduct obliged me to
+abandon this clemency. He insisted on living upon us, and living in a
+style not merely costly, but openly, flagrantly disreputable. Of his
+manner to myself I will not speak; he treated me not alone as a dependant,
+but as one whose character and fortune were in his hands. To what comments
+this exposed me in my own house I leave you to imagine: I remonstrated at
+first, but my endurance became exhausted, and I turned him from my house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then began his persecution of me,&mdash;not alone of myself, but my wife,
+and all belonging to me. I must not dwell on this, or I should forget
+myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We left India, hoping never to hear more of him. There was a story that
+he had gone on a visit to a Rajah in Oude, and would in all likelihood
+live there till he died. Imagine what I felt, my Lord, when I read his
+name on that visiting-card. I knew, of course, what his presence meant, a
+pretended matter of business with you,&mdash;the real object being to
+traduce and vilify me. He had ascertained the connection between us, and
+determined to turn it to profit. So long as I followed my career in India,&mdash;a
+poor soldier of fortune,&mdash;I was not worth persecution; but here at
+home, with friends, possibly with friends able and willing to aid me, I at
+once assumed importance in his eyes. He well knows how dear to us is the
+memory of my wife's father, what sacrifices we have made, what sacrifices
+we would make again, that his name should not be harshly dealt with by the
+world. He feels, too, all the power and weight he can yield by that letter
+of poor Dillon's, given so frankly, so trustfully, and so unfortunately on
+his deathbed. In one word, my Lord, this man has come back to Europe to
+exert over me the pressure which he once on a time used over my
+father-in-law. For reasons I cannot fathom, the great people who knew him
+once, and who ought to know whom and what he has become, are still willing
+to acknowledge him. It is true he no longer frequents their houses and
+mixes in their society,&mdash;but they recognize him. The very card he
+sent in this morning bore the Viceroy's name,&mdash;and from this cause
+alone, even if there were not others, he would be dangerous. I weary you,
+my Lord, and I will conclude. By an accidental admission he let drop that
+he would soon leave Ireland for a while; let it seem, my Lord, so long as
+he remains here, that I am less intimate here, less frequent as a visitor,
+than he has imagined. Let him have grounds to imagine that my presence
+here was a mere accident, and that I am not at all likely to enjoy any
+share of your Lordship's favor,&mdash;in fact, let him believe me as
+friendless here as he saw me in India, and he will cease to speculate on
+persecuting me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There would be indignity in such a course, sir,&rdquo; cried the Judge,
+fiercely; &ldquo;the man has no terrors for <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not, my Lord, nor for me personally. I speak on my wife's
+behalf; it is for her sake and for her peace of mind I am alone thinking
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will speak to her myself on this head.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I entreat you not, my Lord. I implore you never to approach the subject.
+She has for years been torn between the terrible alternative of obeying
+the last injunctions of her father or yielding to the wishes of her
+husband. Her life has been a continual struggle, and her shattered health
+has been the consequence. No, my Lord; let us go down for a few weeks or
+months&mdash;as it may be&mdash;to this country place they have taken for
+us; a little quietness will do us both good. My leave will not expire till
+March; there is still time to look about me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Something shall be done for you, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, pompously. Sewell
+bowed low: he knew how to make his bow a very deep acknowledgment of
+gratitude; he knew the exact measure of deference and trustfulness and
+thankfulness to throw into his expression as he bent his head, while he
+seemed too much overpowered to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, you shall be cared for,&rdquo; said the old man. &ldquo;And if this person,
+this Sir Brook Fossbrooke, return here, it is with <i>me</i> he will have
+to deal,&mdash;not <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My Lord, I entreat you never to admit him; neither see nor correspond
+with him. The man is a desperado, and holds his own life too cheap to care
+for another's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, you only pique my curiosity to meet with him. I have heard of such
+fellows, but never saw one.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;From all I have heard, my Lord, <i>your</i> courage requires no proofs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have heard the truth, sir. It has been tested in every way, and found
+without alloy. This man came here a few days ago to ask me to nominate my
+grandson to an office in my gift; but, save a lesson for his temerity, he
+'took nothing by his motion.'&rdquo; The old Judge walked up and down with short
+impatient steps, his eyebrows moving fiercely, And his mouth twitching
+angrily. &ldquo;The Viceroy must be taught that it is not through such
+negotiators he can treat with men like myself. We hear much about the
+dignity of the Bench. I would that his Excellency should know that the
+respect for it is a homage to be rendered by the highest as well as the
+lowest, and that I for one will accept of nothing less than all the honors
+that befit my station.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Relieved, as it were, by this outburst of vanity, his heart unburdened of
+a load of self-conceit, the old man felt freer And better; and in the sigh
+he heaved there seemed a something that indicated a sense of alleviation.
+Then, turning to Sewell, with a softened voice, he said, &ldquo;How grieved I am
+that you should have passed such a morning! It was certainly not what I
+had intended for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are too good to me, my Lord,&mdash;far too good, and too thoughtful
+of me,&rdquo; said Sewell, with emotion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am one of those men who must go to the grave misconstrued and
+misrepresented. He who would be firm in an age of cowardice, he who would
+be just in an age of jobbery, cannot fail to be calumniated. But, sir,
+there is a moral stature, as there is a material stature, that requires
+distance for its proportions; and it is possible posterity will be more
+just to me than my contemporaries.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would only hope, my Lord, that the time for such a judgment may be long
+deferred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a courtier, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, smiling. &ldquo;It was amongst
+courtiers I passed my early youth, and I like them. When I was a young
+man, Colonel Sewell, it was the fashion to make the tour of Europe as a
+matter of education and good breeding. The French Court was deemed, and
+justly deemed, the first school of manners, and I firmly believe France
+herself has suffered in her forms of politeness from having ceased to be
+the centre of supply to the world. She adulterated the liquor as the
+consumers decreased in taste and increased in number.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How neatly, how admirably expressed!&rdquo; said Sewell, bowing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had some of that gift once,&rdquo; said the old man, with a sigh; &ldquo;but it is
+a weapon out of use nowadays. Epigram has its place in a museum now as
+rightfully as an Andrea Ferrara.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare, my Lord, it is two o'clock. Here is your servant coming to
+announce luncheon. I am ashamed to-think what a share of your day I have
+monopolized.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will stay and take some mutton broth, I hope?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lord. I never eat luncheon, and I am, besides, horrified at
+inflicting you so long already.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, if I suffer many of the miseries of old age, I avail myself of some
+of its few privileges. One of the best of these is, never to be bored. I
+am old and feeble enough to be able to say to him who wearies me, Leave me&mdash;leave-me
+to myself and my own dreariness. Had you 'inflicted' me, as you call it, I
+'d have said as much two hours ago. Your company was, however, most
+agreeable. You know how to talk, and, what is rarer, you know how to
+listen.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell bowed respectfully and in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish the school that trains aides-de-camp could be open to junior
+barristers and curates,&rdquo; muttered he, half to himself; then added aloud,
+&ldquo;Come and see me soon again. Come to breakfast, or, if you prefer it, to
+dinner. We dine at seven;&rdquo; and without further adieu than a slight wave of
+his hand, he turned away and entered the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVI. SIR BROOK IN CONFUSION
+</h2>
+<p>
+Tom Lendrick had just parted with his sister as Fossbrooke came up, and,
+taking his arm in silence, moved slowly down the road.
+</p>
+<p>
+Seeing his deep preoccupation, Tom did not speak for some time, but walked
+along without a word. &ldquo;I hope you found my grandfather in better temper,
+sir?&rdquo; asked Tom, at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He refused to receive me; he pleaded illness, or rather he called it by
+its true name, indisposition. He deputed another gentleman to meet me,&mdash;a
+Colonel Sewell, his stepson.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's the man my father saw at the Cape; a clever sort of person he
+called him, but, I suspect, not one to his liking; too much man of the
+world,&mdash;too much man of fashion for poor Dad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope so,&rdquo; muttered Fossbrooke, unconsciously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, sir; and why?&rdquo; asked Tom, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What of Lucy?&rdquo; said Sir Brook, abruptly; &ldquo;how did you think she was
+looking?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, on the whole, well. I've seen her jollier; but, to be sure, it
+was a leave-taking to-day, and that's not the occasion to put one in high
+spirits. Poor girl, she said, 'Is it not hard, Tom? There are only three
+of us, and we must all live apart.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it is,&mdash;hard, very hard. I 'd have tried once more to influence
+the old Judge if he 'd have given me a meeting. He may do worse with that
+office than bestow it on you, Tom. I believe I'd have told him as much.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's perhaps as well, sir, that you did not see him,&rdquo; said Tom, with a
+faint smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke, following along the train of his own thoughts, and
+not noticing the other's remark. &ldquo;He may do worse; he may give it to <i>him</i>,
+and thus draw closer the ties between them; and if <i>that</i> man once
+gets admission there, he'll get influence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of whom are you talking, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was not speaking, Tom. I was turning over some things in my mind. By
+the way, we have much to do before evening. Go over to Hodgen's about
+those tools; he has not sent them yet: and the blasting-powder, too, has
+not come down. I ought, if I could manage the time, to test it; but it 's
+too late. I must go to the Castle for five minutes,&mdash;five minutes
+will do it; and I 'll pass by Grainger's on my way back, and buy the
+flannel&mdash;miners' flannel they call it in the advertisement. We must
+look our <i>métier</i>, Tom, eh? You told Lucy where to write, and how to
+address us, I hope?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, she wrote it down. By the way, that reminds me of a letter she
+gave me for you. It was addressed to her care, and came yesterday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man thrust it in his pocket without so much as a look at it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think the post-mark was Madeira,&rdquo; said Tom, to try and excite some
+curiosity.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly. I have correspondents everywhere.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It looked like Trafford's writing, I thought.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed! let us see;&rdquo; and he drew forth the letter, and broke the
+envelope. &ldquo;Right enough, Tom,&mdash;it is Trafford.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He ran his eyes rapidly over the first lines, turned to the next side, and
+then to the end of the letter, and then once more began at the beginning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is his third attempt, he says, to reach me, having written twice
+without any acknowledgment; hence he has taken the liberty&mdash;and a
+very great liberty too&mdash;to address the present to the care of your
+sister. His brother died in March last, and the younger brother has now
+shown symptoms of the same malady, and has been sent out to Madeira. 'I
+could not,' he writes,&mdash;'I could not refuse to come out here with
+him, however eager I was to go to Ireland. You can well believe,'&rdquo;&mdash;here
+the old man slurred over the words, and murmured inaudibly for some
+seconds. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; added he at last, &ldquo;he has gone back to his old regiment,
+with good hopes of the majority. 'Hinks is sick of the service, and quite
+willing to leave. Harvey, however, stands above me, and deems it a cruel
+thing to be passed over. I must have your advice about this, as well as
+about&mdash;'&rdquo; Here again he dropped his voice and mumbled unintelligibly.
+At length he read on: &ldquo;'What is Tom doing? What a shame it would be if a
+fellow with such abilities should not make his way!'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A crying shame,&rdquo; burst in Tom, &ldquo;but I neither see the abilities nor the
+way; would he kindly indicate how to find either or both?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'My mother suggested,'&rdquo; read on Sir Brook, &ldquo;'two or three things which my
+father could readily obtain, but you know the price of the promotion; you
+know what I would have to&mdash;'&rdquo; Here, once more, the old man stopped
+abruptly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pray go on, sir,&rdquo; cried Tom, eagerly; &ldquo;this interests me much, and as it
+touches myself I have half a claim to hear it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook gave no heed to the request, but read on in silence and to
+himself. Turning to the last page, he said: &ldquo;'I may then hope to be in
+England by the end of the month. I shall not go down to Holt, but straight
+to Dublin. My leave will expire on the 28th, and this will give me a good
+excuse for not going home. I am sure you will agree with me that I am
+doing the right thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'If I am fortunate enough to meet you in Dublin, I can ask your advice on
+many things which press for solution; but if you should have left Ireland
+and gone heaven knows where, what is to become of me?'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Got into debt again, evidently,&rdquo; said Tom, as he puffed his cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind. I know thoroughly what he alludes to, though I am
+not at liberty to speak of it. He wishes me to leave our address with
+Colonel Cave at the barracks, and that if we should have left Ireland
+already, he 'll try and manage a month's leave, and pay us a visit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare I guessed that!&rdquo; burst out Tom. &ldquo;I had a dread of it, from the
+very day we first planned our project. I said to myself, So sure as we
+settle down to work,&mdash;to work like men who have no thought but how to
+earn their bread,&mdash;some lavender-gloved fellow, with a dressing-case
+and three hat-boxes, will drop down to disgust us alike with our own
+hardships and <i>his</i> foppery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He'll not come,&rdquo; said Sir Brook, calmly; &ldquo;and if he should, he will be
+welcome.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! as to that,&rdquo; stammered out Tom, somewhat ashamed of his late warmth,
+&ldquo;Trafford is perhaps the one exception to the sort of thing I am afraid
+of. He is a fine, manly, candid fellow, with no affectations nor any
+pretensions.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A gentleman, sir,&mdash;just a gentleman, and of a very good type.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The last few lines of the letter were small and finely written, and cost
+the old man some time to decipher. At last he read them aloud. &ldquo;'Am I
+asking what you would see any objection to accord me, if I entreat you to
+give me some letter of introduction or presentation to the Chief t Baron?
+I presume that you know him; and I presume that he might not refuse to
+know <i>me</i>. It is possible I may be wrong in either or both of these
+assumptions. I am sure you will be frank in your reply to this request of
+mine, and say No, if you dislike to say Yes. I made the acquaintance of
+Colonel Sewell, the Judge's step-son, at the Cape; but I suspect&mdash;I
+may be wrong&mdash;but I suspect that to be presented by the Colonel might
+not be the smoothest road to his Lordship's acquaintance,&mdash;I was
+going to write &ldquo;favor,&rdquo; but I have no pretension, as yet at least, to
+aspire that far.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'The Colonel himself told me that his mother and Sir William never met
+without a quarrel. His affectionate remark was that the Chief Baron was
+the only creature in Europe whose temper was worse than Lady Lendrick's,
+and it would be a blessing to humanity if they could be induced to live
+together.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'I saw a good deal of the Se wells at the Cape. She is charming! She was
+a Dillon, and her mother a Lascelles, some forty-fifth cousin of my
+mother's,&mdash;quite enough of relationship, however, to excuse a very
+rapid intimacy, so that I dined there when I liked, and uninvited. I did
+not like <i>him</i> so well; but then he beat me at billiards, and always
+won my money at <i>écarté</i>, and of course these are detracting
+ingredients which ought not to be thrown into the scale.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'How she sings! I don't know how you, with your rapturous love of music,
+would escape falling in love with her: all the more that she seems to me
+one who expects that sort of homage, and thinks herself defrauded if
+denied it. If the Lord Chief Baron is fond of ballads, he has been her
+captive this many a day.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'My love to Tom, if with you or within reach of you; and believe me, ever
+yours affectionately,&mdash;Lionel Trafford.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was the eldest son who died,&rdquo; said Tom, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, the heir. Lionel now succeeds to a splendid fortune and the
+baronetcy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He told me once that his father had made some sort of compact with his
+eldest son about cutting off the entail, in case he should desire to do
+it. In fact, he gave me to understand that he was n't a favorite with his
+father, and that, if by any course of events he were likely to succeed to
+the estate, it was more than probable his father would use this power, and
+merely leave him what he could not alienate,&mdash;a very small property
+that pertained to the baronetage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With reference to what did he make this revelation to you? What had you
+been talking of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely remember. I think it was about younger sons,&mdash;how hardly
+they were treated, and how unfairly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Great hardship truly that a man must labor! not to say that there is not
+a single career in life he can approach without bringing to it greater
+advantages than befall humbler men,&mdash;a better and more liberal
+education, superior habits as regards society, powerful friends, and what
+in a country like ours is inconceivably effective,&mdash;the prestige of
+family. I cannot endure this compassionate tone about younger sons. To my
+thinking they have the very best opening that life can offer, if they be
+men to profit by it; and if they are not, I care very little what becomes
+of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do think it hard that my elder brother should have fortune and wealth
+to over-abundance, while my pittance will scarcely keep me in cigars.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have no right, sir, to think of his affluence. It is not in the
+record; the necessities of your position have no-relation to his
+superfluities. Bethink you of yourself, and if cigars are too expensive
+for you, smoke cavendish. Trafford was full of this cant about the cruelty
+of primogeniture, but I would have none of it. Whenever a man tells me
+that he deems it a hardship that he should do anything for his livelihood,
+I leave him, and hope never to see more of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Trafford surely did not say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&mdash;certainly not; there would have been no correspondence between
+us if he had. But I want to see these young fellows showing the world that
+they shrink from no competitorship with any. They have long proved that to
+confront danger and meet death they are second to none. Let me show that
+in other qualities they admit of no inferiority,&mdash;that they are as
+ready for enterprise, as well able to stand cold and hunger and thirst, to
+battle with climate and disease. <i>I</i> know well they can do it, but I
+want the world to know it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to intellectual distinctions,&rdquo; said Tom, &ldquo;I think they are the equals
+of any. The best man in Trinity in my day was a fellow-commoner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This speech seemed to restore the old man to his best humor. He slapped
+young Lendrick familiarly on the shoulder and said: &ldquo;It would be a grand
+thing, Tom, if we could extend the application of that old French adage,
+'noblesse oblige,' and make it apply to every career in life and every
+success. Come along down this street; I want to buy some nails,&mdash;we
+can take them home with us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They soon made their purchases; and each, armed with a considerably sized
+brown-paper parcel, issued from the shop,&mdash;the old man eagerly
+following up the late theme, and insisting on all the advantages good
+birth and blood conferred, and what a grand resource was the gentleman
+element in moments of pressure and temptation.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Excellency wishes to speak to you, sir,&rdquo; said a footman, respectfully
+standing hat in hand before him &ldquo;The carriage is over the way.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sir Brook nodded an assent, and then, turning to Torn, said, &ldquo;Have the
+kindness to hold this for me for a moment; I will not detain you longer;&rdquo;
+ and placing in young Lendrick's hands a good-sized parcel, he stepped
+across the street, totally forgetting that over his left arm, the hand of
+which was in his pocket, a considerable coil of strong rope depended,
+being one of his late purchases. As he drew nigh the carriage, he made a
+sign that implied defeat; and mortified as the Viceroy was at the
+announcement, he could not help smiling at the strange guise in which the
+old man presented himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how so, Fossbrooke?&rdquo; asked he, in answer to the other's signal.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply, he would not see me, my Lord. Our first meeting had apparently
+left no very agreeable memories of me, and he scarcely cared to cultivate
+an acquaintance that opened so inauspiciously.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you sent him your card with my name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; and his reply was to depute another gentleman to receive me and take
+my communication.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which you refused, of course, to make?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which I refused.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you incline to suppose that the Chief Baron guessed the object of your
+visit?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no means of arriving at that surmise, my Lord. His refusal of me
+was so peremptory that it left me no clew to any guess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was the person deputed to receive you one with whom it was at all
+possible to indicate such an intimation of your business as might convey
+to the Chief Baron the necessity of seeing you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite the reverse, my Lord; he was one with whom, from previous
+knowledge, I could hold little converse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then there is, I fear, nothing to be done.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Except to thank you heartily, my dear Fossbrooke, and ask you once more,
+why are you going away?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told you last night I was going to make a fortune. I have&mdash;to my
+own astonishment I own it&mdash;begun to feel that narrow means are
+occasionally most inconvenient; that they limit a man's action in so many
+ways that he comes at last to experience a sort of slavery; and instead of
+chafing against this, I am resolved to overcome it, and become rich.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope, with all my heart, you may. There is no man whom wealth will more
+become, or who will know how to dispense it more reputably.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, we have gathered a crowd around us, my Lord,&rdquo; said Fossbrooke,
+looking to right and left, where now a number of people had gathered,
+attracted by the Viceroy's presence, but still more amused by the
+strange-looking figure with the hank of rope over his arm, who discoursed
+so freely with his Excellency. &ldquo;This is one of the penalties of greatness,
+I take it,&rdquo; continued he. &ldquo;It's your Excellency's Collar of St. Patrick
+costs you these attentions&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I rather suspect it's <i>your 'grand cordon</i>,' Fossbrooke,&rdquo; said the
+Viceroy, laughing, while he pointed to the rope.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bless my stars!&rdquo; exclaimed Sir Brook, blushing deeply, &ldquo;how forgetful I
+am growing! I hope you forgive me. I am sure you could not suppose&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could never think anything but good of you, Fossbrooke. Get in, and
+come out to 'the Lodge' to dinner.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; impossible. I am heartily ashamed of myself. I grow worse and
+worse every day; people will lose patience at last, and cut me; good-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait one moment. I want to ask you something about young Lendrick. Would
+he take an appointment in a colonial regiment? Would he&mdash;&rdquo; But
+Fossbrooke had elbowed his way through the dense crowd by this time, and
+was far out of hearing,&mdash;shocked with himself, and overwhelmed with
+the thought that in his absurd forgetfulness he might have involved
+another in ridicule.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Think of me standing talking to his Excellency with this on my arm, Tom!&rdquo;
+ said he, flushing with shame and annoyance: &ldquo;how these absent fits keep
+advancing on me! When a man begins to forget himself in this fashion, the
+time is not very distant when his friends will be glad to forget him. I
+said so this moment to Lord Wilmington, and I am afraid that he agreed
+with me. Where are the screws, Tom,&mdash;have I been forgetting them
+also?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, I have them here; the holdfasts were not finished, but they will
+be sent over to us this evening, along with the cramps you ordered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, then, my head was clear so far,&rdquo; cried he, with a smile. &ldquo;In my
+prosperous days, Tom, these freaks of mine were taken as good jokes, and
+my friends laughed at them over my Burgundy; but when a man has no longer
+Burgundy to wash down his blunders with, it is strange how different
+becomes the criticism, and how much more candid the critic.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that, in point of enlightenment, sir, it is better to be poor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is what I was just going to observe to you,&rdquo; said he, calmly. &ldquo;Can you
+give me a cigar?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE TWO LUCYS
+</h2>
+<p>
+Within a week after this incident, while Fossbrooke and young Lendrick
+were ploughing the salt sea towards their destination, Lucy sat in her
+room one morning engaged in drawing. She was making a chalk copy from a
+small photograph her brother had sent her, a likeness of Sir Brook, taken
+surreptitiously as he sat smoking at a window, little heeding or knowing
+of the advantage thus taken of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The head was considerably advanced, the brow and the eyes were nearly
+finished, and she was trying for the third time to get an expression into
+the mouth which the photograph had failed to convey, but which she so
+often observed in the original. Eagerly intent on her work, she never
+heard the door open behind her, and was slightly startled as a very gentle
+hand was laid on her shoulder.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this a very presumptuous step of mine, dear Lucy?&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell,
+with one of her most bewitching smiles: &ldquo;have I your leave for coming in
+upon you in this fashion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you have, my dear Mrs. Sewell; it is a great pleasure to me to
+see you here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I may take off my bonnet and my shawl and my gloves and my company
+manner, as my husband calls it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! <i>you</i> have no company manner,&rdquo; broke in Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I used to think not; but men are stern critics, darling, and especially
+when they are husbands. You will find out, one of these days, how neatly
+your liege lord will detect every little objectionable trait in your
+nature, and with what admirable frankness he will caution you against&mdash;yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I almost think I 'd rather he would not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm very certain of it, Lucy,&rdquo; said the other, with greater firmness
+than before. &ldquo;The thing we call love in married life has an existence only
+a little beyond that of the bouquet you carried to the wedding-breakfast;
+and it would be unreasonable in a woman to expect it, but she might fairly
+ask for courtesy and respect, and you would be amazed how churlish even
+gentlemen can become about expending these graces in their own families.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy was both shocked and astonished at what she heard, and the grave tone
+in which the words were uttered surprised her most of all.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Sewell had by this time taken off her bonnet and shawl, and, pushing
+back her luxuriant hair from her forehead, looked as though suffering from
+headache, for her brows were contracted, and the orbits around her eyes
+dark and purple-looking.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not quite well to-day,&rdquo; said Lucy, as she sat down on the sofa
+beside her, and took her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;About as well as I ever am,&rdquo; said she, sighing; and then, as if suddenly
+recollecting herself, added, &ldquo;India makes such an inroad on health and
+strength! No buoyancy of temperament ever resisted that fatal climate. You
+would n't believe it, Lucy, but I was once famed for high spirits.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can well believe it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was, however, very long ago. I was little more than a child at the
+time&mdash;that is, I was about fourteen or fifteen&mdash;when I left
+England, to which I returned in my twentieth year. I went back very soon
+afterwards to nurse my poor father, and be married.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The depth of sadness in which she spoke the last words made the silence
+that followed intensely sad and gloomy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said she, with a deep melancholy smile, &ldquo;papa called me madcap. Oh
+dear, if our fathers and mothers could look back from that eternity they
+have gone to, and see how the traits they traced in our childhood have
+saddened and sobered down into sternest features, would they recognize us
+as their own? I don't look like a madcap now, Lucy, do I?&rdquo; As she said
+this, her eyes swam in tears, and her lip trembled convulsively. Then
+standing hastily up, she drew nigh the table, and leaned over to look at
+the drawing at which Lucy had been engaged.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What!&rdquo; cried she, with almost a shriek,&mdash;&ldquo;what is this? Whose
+portrait is this? Tell me at once; who is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very dear friend of mine and of Tom's. One you could not have ever met,
+I'm sure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how do you know whom I have met?&rdquo; cried she, fiercely. &ldquo;What can you
+know of my life and my associates?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I said so, because he is one who has lived long estranged from the
+world,&rdquo; said Lucy, gently; for in the sudden burst of the other's passion
+she only saw matter for deep compassion. It was but another part of a
+nature torn and distracted by unceasing anxieties.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But his name,&mdash;his name?&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, wildly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His name is Sir Brook Fossbrooke.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I knew it, I knew it!&rdquo; cried she, wildly,&mdash;&ldquo;I knew it!&rdquo; and said it
+over and over again. &ldquo;Go where we will we shall find him. He haunts; us
+like a curse,&mdash;like a curse!&rdquo; And it was in almost a shriek the last
+word came forth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You cannot know the man if you say this of him,&rdquo; said Lucy, firmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not know him!&mdash;not know him! You will tell me next that I do not
+know myself,&mdash;not know my own name,&mdash;not know the life of
+bitterness I have lived,&mdash;the shame of it,&mdash;the ineffable shame
+of it!&rdquo; and she threw herself on her face on the sofa, and sobbed
+convulsively. Long and anxiously did Lucy try all in her power to comfort
+and console her. She poured out her whole heart in pledges of sisterly
+love and affection. She assured her of a sympathy that would never desert
+her; and, last of all, she told her that her judgment of Sir Brook was a
+mistaken one,&mdash;that in the world there lived not one more
+true-hearted, more generous, or more noble.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where did you learn all this, young woman?&rdquo; said the other,
+passionately. &ldquo;In what temptations and trials of your life have these
+experiences been gained? Oh, don't be angry with me, dearest Lucy; forgive
+this rude speech of mine; my head is turning, and I know not what I say.
+Tell me, child, did this man speak to you of my husband?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor of myself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not a word. I don't believe he was aware that we were related to each
+other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He not aware? Why, it's his boast that he knows every one and every one's
+connections. You never heard him speak without this parade of universal
+acquaintanceship. But why did he come here? How did you happen to meet
+him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the merest accident. Tom found him one day fishing the river close to
+our house, and they got to talk together; and it ended by his coming to us
+to tea. Intimacy followed very quickly, and then a close friendship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you mean to tell me that all this while he never alluded to us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is so unlike him,&mdash;so unlike him,&rdquo; muttered she, half to
+herself. &ldquo;And the last place you saw him,&mdash;where was it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here in this house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here! Do you mean that he came here to see you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he had some business with grandpapa, and called one morning, but he
+was not received. Grandpapa was not well, and sent Colonel Sewell to meet
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He sent my husband! And did he go?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you sure of that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never heard of this,&rdquo; said she, holding her hands to her temples.
+&ldquo;About what time was it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was on Friday last. I remember the day, because it was the last time I
+saw poor Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On Friday last,&rdquo; said she, pondering. &ldquo;Yes, you are right. I do remember
+that Friday;&rdquo; and she drew up the sleeve of her dress, and looked at a
+dark-blue mark upon the fair white skin of her arm; but so hastily was the
+action done that Lucy did not remark it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was on Friday morning. It was on the forenoon of Friday, was it not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. The clock struck one, I remember, as I got back to the house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me, Lucy,&rdquo; said she in a caressing tone, as she drew her arm round
+the girl's waist,&mdash;&ldquo;tell me, darling, how did Colonel Sewell look
+after that interview? Did he seem angry or irritated? I'll tell you why I
+ask this some other time,&mdash;but I want to know if he seemed vexed or
+chagrined by meeting this man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not see him after; he went away almost immediately after Sir Brook.
+I heard his voice talking with grandpapa in the garden, but I went to my
+room, and we did not meet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As they spoke in the garden, were their voices raised? Did they talk like
+men excited or in warmth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. Their tone and manner were what you say,&mdash;so much so that I
+went away, not to overhear them. Grandpapa, I know, was angry at
+something; and when we met at luncheon, he barely spoke to me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what conclusion did you draw from all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None! There was nothing to induce me to dwell on the circumstance;
+besides,&rdquo; added she, with some irritation, &ldquo;I am not given to reason upon
+the traits of people's manner, or their tone in speaking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor perhaps accustomed to inquire, when your grandfather is vexed, what
+it is that has irritated him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not. It is a liberty I should not dare to take.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, darling,&rdquo; said she, with a saucy laugh, &ldquo;he is more fortunate in
+having <i>you</i> for a granddaughter than me. I 'm afraid I should have
+less discretion,&mdash;at all events, less dread.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't be so sure of that,&rdquo; said Lucy, quietly. &ldquo;Grandpapa is no common
+person. It is not his temper but his talent that one is loath to
+encounter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not suspect that either would terrify me greatly. As the soldiers
+say, Lucy, I have been under fire pretty often, and I don't mind it now.
+Do you know, child, that we have got into a most irritable tone with each
+other? Each of us is saying something that provokes a sharp reply, and we
+are actually sparring without knowing it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I certainly did not know it,&rdquo; said Lucy, taking her hand within both her
+own, &ldquo;and I ask pardon if I have said anything to hurt you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Leaving her hand to Lucy unconsciously, and not heeding one word of what
+she had said, Mrs. Sewell sat with her eyes fixed on the floor deep in
+thought. &ldquo;I 'm sure, Lucy,&rdquo; said she at last, &ldquo;I don't know why I asked
+you all those questions awhile ago. That man&mdash;Sir Brook, I mean&mdash;is
+nothing to me; he ought to be, but he is not. My father and he were
+friends; that is, my father thought he was his friend, and left him the
+guardianship of me on his deathbed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your guardian,&mdash;Sir Brook your guardian?&rdquo; cried Lucy, with intense
+eagerness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; with more power than the law, I believe, would accord to any
+guardian.&rdquo; She paused and seemed lost in thought for some seconds, and
+then went on: &ldquo;Colonel Sewell and he never liked each other. Sir Brook
+took little trouble to be liked by him; perhaps Dudley was as careless on
+his side. What a tiresome vein I have got in! How should <i>you</i> care
+for all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I do care&mdash;I care for all that concerns you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I take it, if you were to hear Sir Brook's account, we should not make a
+more brilliant figure than himself. He 'd tell you about our mode of life,
+and high play, and the rest of it; but, child, every one plays high in
+India, every one does scores of things there they would n't do at home,
+partly because the <i>ennui</i> of life tempts to anything,&mdash;anything
+that would relieve it; and then all are tolerant because all are equally&mdash;I
+was going to say wicked; but I don't mean wickedness,&mdash;I mean bored
+to that degree that there is no stimulant left without a breach of the
+decalogue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think that might be called wickedness,&rdquo; said Lucy, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Call it what you like, only take my word for it you 'd do the selfsame
+things if you lived there. I was pretty much what you are now when I left
+England; and if any naughty creature like myself were to talk, as I am
+doing to you now, and make confession of all her misdeeds and misfortunes,
+I'm certain I'd have known how to bridle up and draw away my hand, and
+retire to a far end of the sofa, and look unutterable pruderies, just as
+you do this moment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Without ever suspecting it, certainly,&rdquo; said Lucy laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tear up that odious drawing, dear Lucy,&rdquo; said she, rising and walking the
+room with impatience. &ldquo;Tear it up; or, if you won't do that, let me write
+a line under it&mdash;one line, I ask for no more&mdash;so that people may
+know at whom they are looking.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will do neither; nor will I sit here to listen to one word against
+him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Which means, child, that your knowledge of life is so-much greater than
+mine, you can trust implicitly to your own judgment. I can admire your
+courage, certainly, though I am not captivated by your prudence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is because I have so little faith in my own judgment that I am
+unwilling to lose the friend who can guide me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps it would be unsafe if I were to ask you to choose between <i>him</i>
+and me,&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, very slowly, and with her eyes fully bent on
+Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you will not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With such a warning I certainly shall not do so. Who-could have believed
+it was so late?&rdquo; said she, hastily looking at her watch; &ldquo;What a seductive
+creature you must be, child, to slip over one's whole morning without
+knowing it,&mdash;two o'clock already. You lunch about this time?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, punctually at two.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you sufficiently lady of the house to invite me, Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sure <i>you</i> need no invitation here; you are one of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a little Jesuit it is!&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, patting her cheek. &ldquo;Come,
+child, I 'll be equal with you. I 'll enter the room on your arm, and say,
+'Sir William, your granddaughter insisted on my remaining; I thought it an
+awkwardness, but she tells me she is the mistress here, and I obey.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you will find he will be too well-bred to contradict you,&rdquo; said Lucy,
+while a deep blush covered her face and throat.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I think him positively charming!&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, as she arranged
+her hair before the glass; &ldquo;I think him charming. My mother-in-law and I
+have a dozen pitched battles every day on the score of his temper and his
+character. <i>My</i> theory is, the only intolerable thing on earth is a
+fool; and whether it be that Lady Lendrick suspects me of any secret
+intention to designate one still nearer to her by this reservation, I do
+not know, but the declaration drives her half crazy. Come, Lucy, we shall
+be keeping grandpapa waiting for us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+They moved down the stairs arm-in-arm, without a word; but as they gained
+the door of the dining-room, Mrs. Sewell turned fully round and said, in a
+low deep voice, &ldquo;Marry anything,&mdash;rake, gambler, villain,&mdash;anything,
+the basest and the blackest; but never take a fool, for a fool means them
+all combined.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE NEST WITH STRANGE &ldquo;BIRDS&rdquo; IN IT
+</h2>
+<p>
+To the Swan's Nest, very differently tenanted from what we saw it at the
+opening of our story, we have now to conduct our reader. Its present
+occupant&mdash;&ldquo;the acquisition to any neighborhood,&rdquo; as the house-agent
+styled him&mdash;was Colonel Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lady Lendrick had taken the place for her son on finding that Sir William
+would not extend his hospitality to him. She had taken the precaution not
+merely to pay a year's rent in advance, but to make a number of changes in
+the house and its dependencies, which she hoped might render the residence
+more palatable to him, and reconcile him in some degree to its isolation
+and retirement.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Colonel was, however, one of those men&mdash;they are numerous enough
+in this world&mdash;who canvass the mouth of the gift-horse, and have few
+scruples in detecting the signs of his age. He criticised the whole place
+with a most commendable frankness. It was a &ldquo;pokey little hole.&rdquo; It was
+dark; it was low-ceilinged. It was full of inconveniences. The furniture
+was old-fashioned. You had to mount two steps into the drawing-room and go
+down three into the dining-room. He had to cross a corridor to his
+bath-room, and there was a great Tudor window in the small
+breakfast-parlor, that made one feel as if sitting in a lantern.
+</p>
+<p>
+As for the stables, &ldquo;he would n't put a donkey into them.&rdquo; No light, no
+ventilation,&mdash;no anything, in short. To live surrounded with so many
+inconveniences was the most complete assertion of his fallen condition,
+and, as he said, &ldquo;he had never realized his fall in the world till he
+settled down in that miserable Nest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There are men whose especial delight it is to call your attention to their
+impaired condition, their threadbare coat, their patched shoes, their
+shabby equipage, or their sorry dwelling, as though they were framing a
+sort of indictment against Fate, and setting forth the hardships of
+persons of merit like them being subjected to this unjustifiable treatment
+by Fortune.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you never thought to see me reduced to this,&rdquo; is the burden of
+their song; and it is very strange how, by mere repetition and insistence,
+these people establish for themselves a sort of position, and oblige the
+world to yield them a black-mail of respect and condolence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This was not the sort of tipple I used to set before you once on a time,
+old fellow,&rdquo; will be uttered by one of whose hospitalities you have never
+partaken. &ldquo;It was another guess sort of beast I gave you for a mount when
+we met last,&rdquo; will be said by a man who never rose above a cob pony; and
+one is obliged to yield a kind of polite assent to such balderdash, or
+stand forward as a public prosecutor and arraign the rascal for a humbug.
+</p>
+<p>
+In this self-commiseration Sewell was a master, and there was not a corner
+of the house he did not make the butt of his ridicule,&mdash;to contrast
+its littleness and vulgarity with the former ways and belongings of his
+own once splendor.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You're capital fellows,&rdquo; said he to a party of officers from the
+neighboring garrison, &ldquo;to come and see me in this dog-hole. Try and find a
+chair you can sit on, and I 'll ask my wife if we can give you some
+dinner. You remember me up at Rangoon, Hobbes? Another guess sort of
+place, wasn't it? I had the Rajah's palace and four elephants at my
+orders. At Guzerat, too, I was the Resident, and, by Jove, I never dreamed
+of coming down to this!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Too indolent or too indifferent to care where or how she was lodged, his
+wife gave no heed to his complaints, beyond a little half-supercilious
+smile as he uttered them. &ldquo;If a fellow will marry, however, he deserves it
+all,&rdquo; was his usual wind-up to all his lamentations; and in this he seemed
+to console himself by the double opportunity of pitying himself and
+insulting his wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+All that Colonel Cave and his officers could say in praise of the spot,
+its beauty, its neatness, and its comfort, were only fresh aliment to his
+depreciation, and he more than half implied that possibly the place was
+quite good enough for <i>them</i>, but that was not exactly the question
+at issue.
+</p>
+<p>
+Some men go through life permitted to say scores of things for which their
+neighbor would be irrevocably cut and excluded from society. Either that
+the world is amused at their bitterness, or that it is regarded as a
+malady, far worse to him who bears than to him who witnesses it,&mdash;whatever
+the reason,&mdash;people endure these men, and make even a sort of vicious
+pets of them. Sewell was of this order, and a fine specimen too.
+</p>
+<p>
+All the men around him were his equals in every respect, and yet there was
+not one of them who did not accept a position of quiet, unresisting
+inferiority to him for the sake of his bad temper and his bad tongue. It
+was &ldquo;his way,&rdquo; they said, and they bore it.
+</p>
+<p>
+He was a consummate adept in all the details of a household; and his
+dinners were perfection, his wine good, and his servants drilled to the
+very acme of discipline. These were not mean accessories to any
+pretension; and as they sat over their claret, a pleasanter and more
+social tone succeeded than the complaining spirit of their host had at
+first promised.
+</p>
+<p>
+The talk was chiefly professional. Pipeclay will ever assert its
+pre-eminence, and with reason, for it is a grand leveller; and Digges, who
+joined three months ago, may have the Army List as well by heart as the
+oldest major in the service: and so they discussed, Where was Hobson? what
+made Jobson sell out? how did Bobson get out of that scrape with the
+paymaster? and how long will Dobson be able to live at his present rate in
+that light-cavalry corps? Everything that fell from them showed the most
+thorough intimacy with the condition, the fortune, and the prospects of
+the men they discussed,&mdash;familiarity there was enough of, but no
+friendship. No one seemed to trouble himself whether the sick-leave or the
+sell-out meant hopeless calamity,&mdash;all were dashed with a species of
+well-bred fatalism that was astonished with nothing, rejoiced at nothing,
+repined at nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish Trafford would make up his mind!&rdquo; cried one. &ldquo;Three weeks ago he
+told me positively he would leave, and now I hear he offered Craycroft
+three thousand pounds to retire from the majority.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That 's true; Craycroft told me so himself; but old Joe is a wily bird,
+and he 'll not be taken so easily.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's an eldest son now!&rdquo; broke in another. &ldquo;What does he care whether he
+be called major or captain?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An eldest son!&rdquo; cried Sewell, suddenly; &ldquo;how is that? When I met him at
+the Cape, he spoke of an elder brother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he had, then, but he's 'off the hooks.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think it matters much,&rdquo; said the Colonel. &ldquo;The bulk of the
+property is disentailed, and Sir Hugh can leave it how he likes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's what I call downright shameful,&rdquo; said one; but he was the
+minority, for a number of voices exclaimed,&mdash;&ldquo;And perfectly right;
+that law of primogeniture is a positive barbarism.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While the dispute waxed warm and noisy, Sewell questioned the Colonel
+closely about Trafford,&mdash;how it happened that the entail was removed,
+and why there was reason to suppose that Sir Hugh and his son were not on
+terms of friendship.
+</p>
+<p>
+Cave was frank enough when he spoke of the amount of the fortune and the
+extent of the estate, but used a careful caution in speaking of family
+matters, merely hinting that Trafford had gone very fast, spent a deal of
+money, had his debts twice paid by his father, and was now rather in the
+position of a reformed spendthrift, making a good character for prudence
+and economy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where is he?&mdash;not in Ireland?&rdquo; asked Se well, eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he is to join on Monday. I got a hurried note from him this morning,
+dated Holyhead. You said you had met him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, at the Cape; he used to come and dine with us there occasionally.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you like him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In a way. Yes, I think he was a nice fellow,&mdash;that is, he might be
+made a nice fellow, but it was always a question into what hands he fell;
+he was at the same time pliant and obstinate. He would always imitate,&mdash;he
+would never lead. So he seemed to me; but, to tell you the truth, I left
+him a good deal to the women; he was too young and too fresh for a man
+like myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are rather hard on him,&rdquo; said Cave, laughing; &ldquo;but you are partly
+right. He has, however, fine qualities,&mdash;he is generous and trustful
+to any extent.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Sewell, carelessly, as he bit off the end of a cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing would make him swerve from his word; and if placed in a
+difficulty where a friend was involved, his own interests would be the
+last he 'd think of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very fine, all that. Are you drinking claret?&mdash;if so, finish that
+decanter, and let's have a fresh bottle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave declined to take more wine, and he arose, with the rest, to repair to
+the drawing-room for coffee.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not very usual for Sewell to approach his wife or notice her in
+society; now, however, he drew a chair near her as she sat at the fire,
+and in a low whisper said, &ldquo;I have some pleasant news for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; she said coldly,&mdash;&ldquo;what a strange incident!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean it is a strange channel for pleasant news to come through,
+perhaps,&rdquo; said he, with a curl of his lip.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly that is what I meant,&rdquo; said she, as quietly as before.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None of these fine-lady airs with me, Madam,&rdquo; said he, reddening with
+anger; &ldquo;there are no two people in Europe ought to understand each other
+better than we do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that I quite agree with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And as such is the case, affectations are clean thrown away, Madam; we <i>can</i>
+have no disguises for each other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A very slight inclination of her head seemed to assent to this remark, but
+she did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We came to plain speaking many a day ago,&rdquo; said he, with increased
+bitterness in his tone. &ldquo;I don't see why we are to forego the advantage of
+it now,&mdash;do you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By no means. Speak as plainly as you wish; I am quite ready to hear you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have managed, however, to make people observe us,&rdquo; muttered he,
+between his teeth,&mdash;&ldquo;it's an old trick of yours, Madam. You can play
+martyr at the shortest notice.&rdquo; He rose hastily and moved to another part
+of the room, where a very noisy group were arranging a party for pool at
+billiards.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Won't you have me?&rdquo; cried Sewell, in his ordinary tone. &ldquo;I'm a perfect
+boon at pool; for I am the most unlucky dog in everything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely think you'll expect us to believe <i>that</i>,&rdquo; said Cave,
+with a glance of unmistakable admiration towards Mrs. Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; cried Sewell, fiercely, and answering the unspoken sentiment,&mdash;&ldquo;ay,
+sir, and <i>that</i>,&rdquo;&mdash;he laid a stern emphasis on the word,&mdash;&ldquo;and
+<i>that</i> the worst luck of all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've been asking Mrs. Sewell to play a game with us, and she says she
+has no objections,&rdquo; said a young subaltern, &ldquo;if Colonel Sewell does not
+dislike it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll play whist, then,&rdquo; said Sewell. &ldquo;Who 'll make a rubber?&mdash;Cave,
+will you? Here's Houghton and Mowbray,&mdash;eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Mowbray,&mdash;&ldquo;you are all too good for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I hate that,&mdash;too good for me,&rdquo; said Sewell. &ldquo;Why, man, what
+better investment could you ask for your money than the benefit of good
+teaching? Always ride with the best hounds, play with the best players,
+talk with the best talkers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And make love to the prettiest women,&rdquo; added Cave, in a whisper, as
+Mowbray followed Mrs. Sewell into the billiard-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard you, Cave,&rdquo; whispered Sewell, in a still lower whisper; &ldquo;there's
+devilish little escapes my ears, I promise you.&rdquo; The bustle and
+preparation of the card-table served in part to cover Cave's confusion,
+but his cheek tingled and his hand shook with mingled shame and annoyance.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell saw it all, and knew how to profit by it. He liked high play, to
+which Cave generally objected; but he well knew that on the present
+occasion Cave would concur in anything to cover his momentary sense of
+shame.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pounds and fives, I suppose,&rdquo; said Sewell; and the others bowed, and the
+game began.
+</p>
+<p>
+As little did Cave like three-handed whist, but he was in no mood to
+oppose anything; for, like many men who have made an awkward speech, he
+exaggerated the meaning through his fears, and made it appear absolutely
+monstrous to himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever you like,&rdquo; was therefore his remark; and he sat down to the
+game.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell was a skilled player; but the race is no more to the swift in cards
+than in anything else,&mdash;he lost, and lost heavily. He undervalued his
+adversaries too, and, in consequence, he followed up his bad luck by
+increased wagers. Cave tried to moderate the ardor he displayed, and even
+remonstrated with him on the sums they were staking, which, he
+good-humoredly remarked, were far above his own pretensions; but Sewell
+resented the advice, and replied with a coarse insinuation about winners'
+counsels. The ill-luck continued, and Sewell's peevishness and ill-temper
+increased with every game. &ldquo;What have I lost to you?&rdquo; cried he, abruptly,
+to Cave; &ldquo;it jars on my nerves every time you take out that cursed
+memorandum, so that all I can do is not to fling it into the fire.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sure I wish you would, or that you would let me do it,&rdquo; said Cave,
+quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How much is it?&mdash;not short of three hundred, I'll be bound.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is upwards of five hundred,&rdquo; said Cave, handing the book across the
+table.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'll have to wait for it, I promise you. You must give me time, for I
+am in all sorts of messes just now.&rdquo; While Cave assured him that there was
+no question of pressing for payment,&mdash;to take his own perfect
+convenience,&mdash;Sewell, not heeding him, went on: &ldquo;This confounded
+place has cost me a pot of money. My wife, too, knows how to scatter her
+five-pound notes; in short, we are a wasteful lot. Shall we have one
+rubber more, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As you like. I am at your orders.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us say double or quits, then, for the whole sum.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave made no reply, and seemed not to know how to answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, if you object,&rdquo; said Sewell, pushing back his chair from the
+table, as though about to rise, &ldquo;there's no more to be said.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do <i>you</i> say, Houghton?&rdquo; asked Cave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Houghton has nothing to say to it; <i>he</i> hasn't won twenty pounds
+from me,&rdquo; said Sewell, fiercely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever you like, then,&rdquo; said Cave, in a tone in which it was easy to
+see irritation was with difficulty kept under, and the game began.
+</p>
+<p>
+The game began in deep silence. The restrained temper of the players and
+the heavy sum together impressed them, and not a word was dropped. The
+cards fell upon the table with a clear, sharp sound, and the clink of the
+counters resounded through the room, the only noises there.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they played, the company from the billiard-room poured in and drew
+around the whist-table, at first noisily enough; but seeing the deep
+preoccupation of the players, their steadfast looks, their intense
+eagerness, made more striking by their silence, they gradually lowered
+their voices, and at last only spoke in whispers and rarely.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first game of the rubber had been contested trick by trick, but ended
+by Cave winning it. The second game was won by Sewell, and the third
+opened with his deal.
+</p>
+<p>
+As he dealt the cards, a murmur ran through the bystanders that the stake
+was something considerable, and the interest increased in consequence. A
+few trifling bets were laid on the issue, and one of the group, in a voice
+slightly raised above the rest, said, &ldquo;I'll back Sewell for a pony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg you will not, sir,&rdquo; said Sewell, turning fiercely round. &ldquo;I'm in
+bad luck already, and I don't want to be swamped altogether. There, sir,
+your interference has made me misdeal,&rdquo; cried he, passionately, as he
+flung the cards on the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+Not a word was said as Cave began his deal. It was too plain to every one
+that Sewell's temper was becoming beyond control, and that a word or a
+look might bring the gravest consequences.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What cards!&rdquo; said Cave, as he spread his hand on the table: &ldquo;four honors
+and nine trumps.&rdquo; Sewell stared at them, moved his fingers through them to
+separate and examine them, and then, turning his head round, he looked
+behind. It was his wife was standing at the back of his chair, calm, pale,
+and collected. &ldquo;By Heaven!&rdquo; cried he, savagely, &ldquo;I knew who was there as
+well as if I saw her. The moment Cave spread out his cards, I 'd have
+taken my oath that <i>she</i> was standing over me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She moved hastily away at the ruffianly speech, and a low murmur of
+indignant anger filled the room. Cave and Houghton quitted the table, and
+mingled with the others; but Sewell sat still, tearing up the cards one by
+one, with a quiet, methodical persistence that betrayed no passion.
+&ldquo;There!&rdquo; said he, as he threw the last fragment from him, &ldquo;you shall never
+bring good or bad luck to any one more.&rdquo; With the ease of one to whom such
+paroxysms were not un-frequent, he joined in the conversation of a group
+of young men, and with a familiar jocularity soon set them at their ease
+towards him; and then, drawing his arm within Cave's, he led him apart,
+and said: &ldquo;I 'll go over to the Barrack to-morrow and breakfast with you.
+I have just thought of how I can settle this little debt.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, don't distress yourself about that,&rdquo; said Cave. &ldquo;I beg you will not
+let it give you a moment's uneasiness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good fellow!&rdquo; said Sewell, clapping him on the shoulder; &ldquo;but I have the
+means of doing it without inconvenience, as I 'll show you to-morrow.
+Don't go yet; don't let your fellows go. We are going to have a broil, or
+a devilled biscuit, or something.&rdquo; He walked over and rang the bell, and
+then hastily passed on into a smaller room, where his wife was sitting on
+a sofa, an old doctor of the regiment seated at her side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I won't interrupt the consultation,&rdquo; said Sewell, &ldquo;but I have just one
+word to say.&rdquo; He leaned over the back of the sofa, and whispered in her
+ear, &ldquo;Your friend Trafford is become an eldest son. He is at the Bilton
+Hotel, Dublin; write and ask him here. Say I have some cock-shooting,&mdash;there
+are harriers in the neighborhood. Are you listening to me, Madam?&rdquo; said
+he, in a harsh hissing voice, for she had half turned away her head, and
+her face had assumed an expression of sickened disgust. She nodded, but
+did not speak. &ldquo;Tell him that I've spoken to Cave&mdash;he'll make his
+leave all right&mdash;that I 'll do my best to make the place pleasant to
+him, and that&mdash;in fact, I needn't toy to teach you to write a sweet
+note. You understand me, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, perfectly,&rdquo; said she, rising; and a livid paleness now spread over
+her face, and even her lips were bloodless.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was too abrupt with my news. I ought to have been more considerate; I
+ought to have known it might overcome you,&rdquo; said he, with a sneering
+bitterness. &ldquo;Doctor, you 'll have to give Mrs. Se well some cordial, some
+restorative,&mdash;that's the name for it. She was overcome by some
+tidings I brought her. Even pleasant news will startle us occasionally. As
+the French comedy has it, <i>La joie fait peur</i>;&rdquo; and with a listless,
+easy air, he sauntered away into another room.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXIX. SEWELL VISITS CAVE
+</h2>
+<p>
+Punctual to his appointment, Sewell appeared at breakfast the next morning
+with Colonel Cave. Of all the ill-humor and bad conduct of the night
+before, not a trace now was to be seen. He was easy, courteous, and
+affable. He even made a half-jesting apology for his late display of bad
+temper; attributing it to an attack of coming gout. &ldquo;So long as the
+malady,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is in a state of menace, one's nerves become so
+fine-strung that there is no name for the irritability; but when once a
+good honest seizure has taken place, a man recovers himself, and stands up
+to his suffering manfully and well.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-day, for instance,&rdquo; said he, pointing to a shoe divided by long
+incisions, &ldquo;I have got my enemy fixed, and I let him do his worst.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The breakfast proceeded pleasantly; Cave was in admiration of his guest's
+agreeability; for he talked away, not so much of things as of people. He
+had in a high degree that-man-of-the-world gift of knowing something about
+every one. No name could turn up of which he could not tell you something
+the owner of it had said or done, and these &ldquo;scratch&rdquo; biographies are
+often very amusing, particularly when struck off with the readiness of a
+practised talker.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not, then, merely that Sewell obliterated every memory of the
+evening before, but he made Cave forget the actual object for which he had
+come that morning. Projects, besides, for future pleasure did Sewell throw
+out, like a man who had both the leisure, the means, and the taste for
+enjoyment. There was some capital shooting he had just taken; his
+neighbor, an old squire, had never cared for it, and let him have it &ldquo;for
+a song.&rdquo; They were going to get up hack races, too, in the Park,&mdash;&ldquo;half-a-dozen
+hurdles and a double ditch to tumble over,&rdquo; as he said, &ldquo;will amuse our
+garrison fellows,&mdash;and my wife has some theatrical intentions&mdash;if
+you will condescend to help her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell talked with that blended munificence and shiftiness, which seems a
+specialty with a certain order of men. Nothing was too costly to be done,
+and yet everything must be accomplished with a dexterity that was almost a
+dodge. The men of this gift are great scene-painters. They dash you off a
+view&mdash;be it a wood or a rich interior, a terraced garden or an Alpine
+hut&mdash;in a few loose touches. Ay! and they &ldquo;smudge&rdquo; them out again
+before criticism has had time to deal with them. &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; cried he,
+suddenly, stopping in the full swing of some description of a possible
+regatta, &ldquo;I was half forgetting what brought me here this morning. I am in
+your debt, Cave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He stopped as though his speech needed some rejoinder, and Cave grew very
+red and very uneasy&mdash;tried to say something&mdash;anything&mdash;but
+could not. The fact was, that, like a man who had never in all his life
+adventured on high play or risked a stake that could possibly be of
+importance to him, he felt pretty much the same amount of distress at
+having won as he would have felt at having lost. He well knew that if by
+any mischance he had incurred such a loss as a thousand pounds, it would
+have been a most serious embarrassment&mdash;by what right, then, had he
+won it? Now, although feelings of this sort were about the very last to
+find entrance into Sewell's heart, he well knew that there were men who
+were liable to them, just as there were people who were exposed to plague
+or yellow fever, and other maladies from which he lived remote. It was,
+then, with a sort of selfish delight that he saw Cave's awkward hesitating
+manner, and read the marks of the shame that was overwhelming him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A heavy sum too,&rdquo; said Sewell, jauntily; &ldquo;we went the whole 'pot' on that
+last rubber.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I could forget it&mdash;I mean,&rdquo; muttered Cave, &ldquo;I wish we could
+both forget it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not the least objection to that,&rdquo; said Sewell gayly; &ldquo;only let it
+first be paid.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, but&mdash;what I meant was&mdash;what I wanted to say, or rather,
+what I hoped&mdash;was&mdash;in plain words, Sewell,&rdquo; burst he out, like a
+man to whom desperation gave courage,&mdash;&ldquo;in plain words, I never
+intended to play such stakes as we played last night,&mdash;I never have&mdash;I
+never will again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to give me my revenge?&rdquo; said Sewell, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, not for anything. I don't know what I 'd have done&mdash;I don't know
+what would have become of me&mdash;if I had lost; and I pledge you my
+honor, I think the next worst thing is to have won.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you, by George!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do, upon my sacred word of honor. My first thoughts on waking this
+morning were more wretched than they have been for any day in the last
+twenty years of life, for I was thoroughly ashamed of myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll not find many men afflicted with your malady, Cave; and, at all
+events, it's not contagious.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing about that,&rdquo; said Cave, half irritably; &ldquo;I never was a
+play man, and have little pretension to understand their feelings.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They have n't got any,&rdquo; said Sewell, as he lit his cigar.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps not; so much the worse for them. I can only say, if the misery of
+losing be only proportionate to the shame of winning, I don't envy a
+gambler. Such an example, too, to exhibit to my young officers! It was too
+bad&mdash;too bad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare I don't understand this,&rdquo; said Sewell, carelessly; &ldquo;when I
+commanded a battalion, I never imagined I was obliged to be a model to the
+subs or the junior captains.&rdquo; The tone of banter went, this time, to the
+quick; and Cave flushed a deep crimson, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;I'm not sorry
+that my ideas of my duty are different; though, in the present case, I
+have failed to fulfil it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well, there's nothing to grow angry about,&rdquo; said Sewell, laughing,
+&ldquo;even though you won't give me my revenge. My present business is to book
+up;&rdquo; and, as he spoke, he sat down at the table, and drew a roll of papers
+from his pocket and laid it before him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You distress me greatly by all this, Sewell,&rdquo; said Cave, whose agitation
+now almost overcame him. &ldquo;Cannot we hit upon some way? can't we let it lie
+over? I mean,&mdash;is there no arrangement by which this cursed affair
+can be deferred? You understand me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not in the least. Such things are never deferred without loss of honor to
+the man in default. The stake that a man risks is supposed to be in his
+pocket, otherwise play becomes trade, and accepts all the vicissitudes of
+trade.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the first time I ever heard them contrasted to the disparagement of
+honest industry.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I call billiards, tennis, whist, and écarté honest industries, too,
+though I won't call them trades. There, there,&rdquo; said he, laughing at the
+other's look of displeasure, &ldquo;don't be afraid; I am not going to preach
+these doctrines to your young officers, for whose morals you are so much
+concerned. Sit down here, and just listen to me for one moment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave obeyed, but his face showed in every feature how reluctantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see, Cave,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a quiet smile,&mdash;&ldquo;I see you want to
+do me a favor,&mdash;so you shall. I am obliged to own that I am an
+exception to the theory I have just now enunciated. I staked a thousand
+pounds, and I had <i>not</i> the money in my pocket. Wait a moment,&mdash;don't
+interrupt me. I had not the money in gold or bank-notes, but I had it
+here&rdquo;&mdash;and he touched the papers before him&mdash;&ldquo;in a form equally
+solvent, only that it required that he who won the money should be not a
+mere acquaintance, but a friend,&mdash;a friend to whom I could speak with
+freedom and in confidence. This,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is a bond for twelve hundred
+pounds, given by my wife's guardian in satisfaction of a loan once made to
+him; he was a man of large fortune, which he squandered away recklessly,
+leaving but a small estate, which he could neither sell nor alienate. Upon
+this property this is a mortgage. As an old friend of my father-in-law,&mdash;a
+very unworthy one, by the way,&mdash;I could of course not press him for
+the interest, and, as you will see, it has never been paid; and there is
+now a balance of some hundred pounds additional against him. Of this I
+could not speak, for another reason,&mdash;we are not without the hope of
+inheriting something by him, and to allude to this matter would be
+ruinous. Keep this, then. I insist upon it. I declare to you, if you
+refuse, I will sell it to-morrow to the first moneylender I can find, and
+send you my debt in hard cash. I 've been a play-man all my life, but
+never a defaulter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was a tone of proud indignation in the way he spoke that awed Cave
+to silence; for in good truth he was treating of themes of which he knew
+nothing whatever: and of the sort of influences which swayed gamblers, of
+the rules that guided and the conventionalities that bound them, he was
+profoundly ignorant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll not get your money, Cave,&rdquo; resumed Sewell, &ldquo;till this old fellow
+dies; but you will be paid at last,&mdash;of that I can assure you.
+Indeed, if by any turn of luck I was in funds myself, I 'd like to redeem
+it. All I ask is, therefore, that you 'll not dispose of it, but hold it
+over in your own possession till the day&mdash;and I hope it may be an
+early one&mdash;it will be payable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave was in no humor to dispute anything. There was no condition to which
+he would not have acceded, so heartily ashamed and abashed was he by the
+position in which he found himself. What he really would have liked best,
+would have been to refuse the bond altogether, and say, Pay when you like,
+how you like, or, better still, not at all. This of course was not
+possible, and he accepted the terms proposed to him at once.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It shall be all as you wish,&rdquo; said he, hurriedly. &ldquo;I will do everything
+you desire; only let me assure you that I would infinitely rather this
+paper remained in <i>your</i> keeping than in <i>mine</i>. I'm a careless
+fellow about documents,&rdquo; added he, trying to put the matter on the lesser
+ground of a safe custody. &ldquo;Well, well, say no more; you don't wish it, and
+that's enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must be able to say,&rdquo; said Sewell, gravely, &ldquo;that I never lost over
+night what I had not paid the next morning; and I will even ask of you to
+corroborate me so far as this transaction goes. There were several of your
+fellows at my house last night; they saw what we played for, and that I
+was the loser. There will be&mdash;there always is&mdash;plenty of gossip
+about these things, and the first question is, 'Has he-booked up?' I'm
+sure it's not asking more than you are ready to do, to say that I paid my
+debt within twenty-four hours.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly; most willingly. I don't know that any one has a right to
+question me on the matter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never said he had. I only warned you how people will talk, and how
+necessary it is to be prepared to stifle a scandal even before it has
+flared out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It shall be cared for. I'll do exactly as you wish,&rdquo; said Cave, who was
+too much flurried to know what was asked of him, and to what he was
+pledged.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm glad this is off my mind,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a long sigh of relief.
+&ldquo;I lay awake half the night thinking of it; for there are scores of
+fellows who are not of your stamp, and who would be for submitting these
+documents to their lawyer, and asking, Heaven knows, what this affair
+related to. Now I tell you frankly, I 'd have given no explanations. He
+who gave that bond is, as I know, a consummate rascal, and has robbed me&mdash;that
+is, my wife&mdash;out of two-thirds of her fortune; but <i>my</i> hands
+are tied regarding him. I could n't touch him, except he should try to
+take my life,&mdash;a thing, by the way, he is quite capable of. Old
+Dillon, my wife's father, believed him to be the best and truest of men,
+and my wife inherited this belief, even in the face of all the injuries he
+had worked us. She went on saying, 'My father always said, &ldquo;Trust Fossy:
+there's at least one man in the world that will never deceive you.'&rdquo;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was the name you said?&rdquo; asked Cave, quickly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, only a nickname. I don't want to mention his name. I have sealed up
+the bond, with this superscription,&mdash;'Colonel Sewell's bond.' I did
+this believing you would not question me farther; but if you desire to
+read it over, I 'll break the envelope at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; nothing of the kind. Leave it just as it is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that,&rdquo; said Sewell, pursuing his former line of thought, &ldquo;this man not
+alone defrauded me, but he sowed dissension between me and my wife. Her
+faith is shaken in him, I have no doubt, but she 'll not confess it. Like
+a genuine woman, she will persist in asserting the convictions she has
+long ceased to be held by, and quote this stupid letter of her father in
+the face of every fact.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ought not to have got into these things,&rdquo; said Sewell, as he walked
+impatiently down the room. &ldquo;These family bedevilments should be kept from
+one's friends; but the murder is out now, and you can see how I stand&mdash;and
+see besides, that if I am not always able to control my temper, a friend
+might find an excuse for me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave gave a kindly nod of assent to this, not wishing, even by a word, to
+increase the painful embarrassment of the scene.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Heigh ho!&rdquo; cried Sewell, throwing himself down in a chair, &ldquo;there's one
+care off my heart, at least! I can remember a time when a night's bad luck
+would n't have cost me five minutes of annoyance; but nowadays I have got
+it so hot and so heavy from fortune, I begin not to know myself.&rdquo; Then,
+with a sudden change of tone, he added: &ldquo;When are you coming out to us
+again? Shall we say Tuesday?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are to be inspected on Tuesday. Trafford writes me that he is coming
+over with General Halkett,&mdash;whom, by the way, he calls a Tartar,&mdash;and
+says, 'If the Sewells are within hail, say a kind word to them on my
+part.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A good sort of fellow, Trafford,&rdquo; said Sewell, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An excellent fellow,&mdash;no better living!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very wide-awake one too,&rdquo; said Sewell, with one eye closed, and a look
+of intense cunning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never thought so. It is, to my notion, to the want of that faculty he
+owes every embarrassment he has ever suffered. He is unsuspecting to a
+fault.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not the way <i>I</i> read him; though, perhaps, I think as well of
+him as <i>you</i> do. I 'd say that for his years he is one of the very
+shrewdest young fellows I ever met.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You astonish me! May I ask if you know him well?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Our acquaintance is not of very old date, but we saw a good deal of each
+other at the Cape. We rode out frequently, dined, played, and conversed
+freely together; and the impression he made upon me was that every sharp
+lesson the world had given him he 'd pay back one day or other with a
+compound interest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope not,&mdash;I fervently hope not!&rdquo; cried Cave. &ldquo;I had rather hear
+to-morrow that he had been duped and cheated out of half his fortune than
+learn he had done one act that savored of the&mdash;the&mdash;&rdquo; He
+stopped, unable to finish, for he could not hit upon the word that might
+be strong enough for his meaning, and yet not imply an offence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say blackleg. Is n't that what you want? There's my wife's pony chaise. I
+'ll get a seat back to the Nest. Goodbye, Cave. If Wednesday is open, give
+it to us, and tell Trafford I'd be glad to see him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cave sat down as the door closed after the other, and tried to recall his
+thoughts to something like order. What manner of man was that who had just
+left him? It was evidently a very mixed nature. Was it the good or the
+evil that predominated? Was the unscrupulous tone he displayed the result
+of a spirit of tolerance, or was it the easy indifference of one who
+trusted nothing,&mdash;believed nothing?
+</p>
+<p>
+Was it possible his estimate of Trafford could be correct? and could this
+seemingly generous and open manner cover a nature cold, calculating, and
+treacherous? No, no. <i>That</i> he felt to be totally out of the
+question.
+</p>
+<p>
+He thought long and intently over the matter, but to no end; and as he
+arose to deposit the papers left by Sewell in his writing-desk, he felt as
+unsettled and undecided as when he started on the inquiry.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXX. THE RACES ON THE LAWN
+</h2>
+<p>
+A bright October morning, with a blue sky and a slight, very slight
+feeling of frost in the air, and a gay meeting on foot and horseback on
+the lawn before the Swan's Nest, made as pretty a picture as a painter of
+such scenes could desire. I say of such scenes, because in the <i>tableau
+de genre</i> it is the realistic element that must predominate, and the
+artist's skill is employed in imparting to very commonplace people and
+costumes whatever poetry can be lent them by light and shade, by happy
+groupings, and, more than all these, by the insinuation of some incident
+in which they are the actors,&mdash;a sort of storied interest pervading
+the whole canvas, which gives immense pleasure to those who have little
+taste for the fine arts.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was plenty of color even in the landscape. The mountains had put on
+their autumn suit, and displayed every tint from a pale opal to a deep and
+gorgeous purple, while the river ran on in those circling eddies which
+come to the surface of water under sunshine as naturally as smiles to the
+face of flattered beauty.
+</p>
+<p>
+Colonel Sewell had invited the country-side to witness hack-races in his
+grounds, and the country-side had heartily responded to the invitation.
+There were the county magnates in grand equipages,&mdash;an earl with two
+postilions and outriders, a high sheriff with all his official splendors,
+squires of lower degree in more composite vehicles, and a large array of
+jaunting-cars, through all of which figured the red coats of the
+neighboring garrison, adding to the scene that tint of warmth in color so
+dear to the painter's heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+The wonderful beauty of the spot, combining, as it did, heath-clad
+mountain, and wood, and winding river, with a spreading lake in the
+distance, dotted with picturesque islands, was well seconded by a glorious
+autumnal day,&mdash;one of those days when the very air has something of
+champagne in its exhilarating quality, and gives to every breath of it a
+sense of stimulation.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first three races&mdash;they were on the flat&mdash;had gone off
+admirably. They were well contested, well ridden, and the &ldquo;right horse&rdquo;
+ the winner. All was contentment, therefore, on every side, to which the
+interval of a pleasant moment of conviviality gave hearty assistance, for
+now came the hour of luncheon; and from the &ldquo;swells&rdquo; in the great marquée,
+and the favored intimates in the dining-room, to the assembled unknown in
+the jaunting-cars, merry laughter issued, with clattering of plates and
+popping of corks, and those commingled sounds of banter and jollity which
+mark such gatherings.
+</p>
+<p>
+The great event of the day was, however, yet to come off. It was a hurdle
+race, to which two stiff fences were to be added, in the shape of double
+ditches, to test the hunting powers of the horses. The hurdles were to be
+four feet eight in height, so that the course was by no means a despicable
+one, even to good cross-country riders. To give increased interest to the
+race, Sewell himself was to ride, and no small share of eagerness existed
+amongst the neighboring gentry to see how the new-comer would distinguish
+himself in the saddle,&mdash;some opining he was too long of leg; some,
+that he was too heavy; some, that men of his age&mdash;he was over
+five-and-thirty&mdash;begin to lose nerve; and many going so far as to
+imply &ldquo;that he did not look like riding,&rdquo;&mdash;a judgment whose vagueness
+detracts nothing from its force.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There he goes now, and he sits well down too!&rdquo; cried one, as a group of
+horsemen swept past, one of whom, mounted on a &ldquo;sharp&rdquo; pony, led the way,
+a white macintosh and loose overalls covering him from head to foot. They
+were off to see that the fences were all being properly put up, and in an
+instant were out of sight.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll back Tom Westenra against Sewell for a twenty-pound note,&rdquo; cried
+one, standing up on the seat of his car to proclaim the challenge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll go further,&rdquo; shouted another,&mdash;&ldquo;I 'll do it for fifty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll beat you both,&rdquo; cried out a third,&mdash;&ldquo;I 'll take Tom even
+against the field.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The object of all this enthusiasm was a smart, cleanshaven little fellow,
+with a good blue eye, and a pleasant countenance, who smoked his cigar on
+the seat of a drag near, and nodded a friendly recognition to their
+confidence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If Joe Slater was well of his fall, I 'd rather have him than any one in
+the county,&rdquo; said an old farmer, true to a man of his own class and
+standing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's one can beat them both!&rdquo; shouted another; &ldquo;here's Mr. Creagh of
+Liskmakerry!&rdquo; and a thin, ruddy-faced, keen-eyed man of about fifty rode
+by on a low-sized horse, with that especial look of decision in his mouth,
+and a peculiar puckering about the corners that seem to belong to those
+who traffic in horse-flesh, and who, it would appear, however much they
+may know about horses, understand humanity more thoroughly still.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you going to ride, Creagh?&rdquo; cried a friend from a high tax-cart.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Maybe so, if the fences are not too big for me;&rdquo; and a very malicious
+drollery twinkled in his gray eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix, and if they are,&rdquo; said a farmer, &ldquo;the rest may stay at home.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you 'll ride, Creagh,&rdquo; said the first speaker, &ldquo;and not let these
+English fellows take the shine out of us. Yourself and Tom are the only
+county names on the card.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show it to me,&rdquo; said Creagh, listlessly; and he took the printed list in
+his hand and conned it over, as though it had all been new to him. &ldquo;They
+'re all soldiers, I see,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;It's Major This, and Captain That&mdash;Who
+is the lady?&rdquo; This question was rapidly called forth by a horsewoman who
+rode past at an easy canter in the midst of a group of men. She was
+dressed in a light-gray habit and hat of the same color, from which a long
+white feather encircling the hat hung on one side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's Mrs. Sewell,&mdash;what do you think of her riding?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If her husband has as neat a hand, I 'd rather he was out of the course.
+She knows well what she 's about.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They say there's not her equal in the park in London.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's not park riding; that's something very different, take my word for
+it. She could lead half the men here across the country.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Nor was she unworthy of the praise, as, with her hand low, her head a
+little forward, but her back well curved in, she sat firmly down in her
+saddle; giving to the action of the horse that amount of movement that
+assisted the animal, but never more. The horse was mettlesome enough to
+require all her attention. It was his first day under a sidesaddle, and he
+chafed at it, and when the heavy skirt smote his flank, bounded with a
+lunge and a stroke of his head that showed anger.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a four-hundred guinea beast she 's on. He belongs to the tall
+young fellow that's riding on her left.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like his own horse better,&mdash;the liver-chestnut with the short
+legs. I wish I had a loan of him for the hurdle-race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ask him, Phil; or get the mistress there to ask him,&rdquo; said another,
+laughing. &ldquo;I 'm mighty mistaken or he wouldn't refuse her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, is that it?&rdquo; said Creagh, with a knowing look.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So they tell me here, for I don't know one of them myself; but the story
+goes that she was to have married that young fellow when Sewell earned her
+off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must go and get a better look at her,&rdquo; said Creagh, as he spurred his
+horse and cantered away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is any one betting?&rdquo; said little Westenra, as he descended from his seat
+on the drag. &ldquo;I have not seen a man to-day with five pounds on the race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's Sewell,&rdquo; muttered another; &ldquo;he's coming up now, and will give or
+take as much as you like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you see Mrs. Sewell, any of you?&rdquo; asked Sewell, cavalierly, as he
+rode up with an open telegram in his hand; and as the persons addressed
+were for the most part his equals, none responded to the insolent demand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Could you tell me, sir,&rdquo; said Sewell, quickly altering his tone, while he
+touched his hat to Westenra, &ldquo;if Mrs. Sewell passed this way?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I haven't the honor to know Mrs. Sewell, but I saw a lady ride past,
+about ten minutes ago, on a black thoroughbred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Faix, and well she rode him too,&rdquo; broke in an old farmer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She took the posy out of that young gentleman's button-hole, while her
+beast was jumping, and stuck it in her breast, as easy as I 'm sitting
+here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewel's face grew purple as he darted a look of savage anger at the
+speaker, and, turning his horse's head, he dashed out at speed and
+disappeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Peter Delaney,&rdquo; said Westenra, &ldquo;I thought you had more discretion than to
+tell such a story as that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Begorra, Mister Tom! I didn't know the mischief I was making till I saw
+the look he gave me!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was not till after a considerable search that Sewell came up with his
+wife's party, who were sauntering leisurely along the river-side, through
+a gorse-covered slope.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've had a devil of a hunt after you!&rdquo; he cried, as he rode up, and the
+ringing tone of his voice was enough to intimate to her in what temper he
+spoke. &ldquo;I 've something to say to you,&rdquo; said he, as though meant for her
+private ear; and the others drew back, and suffered them to ride on
+together. &ldquo;There 's a telegram just come from that old beast the Chief
+Baron; he desires to see me to-night. The last train leaves at five, and I
+shall only hit it by going at once. Can't you keep your horse quiet,
+Madam, or must you show off while I 'm speaking to you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was the furze that stung him,&rdquo; said she, coldly, and not showing the
+slightest resentment at his tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the old bear means anything short of dying, and leaving me his heir,
+this message is a shameful swindle.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean to go?&rdquo; asked she, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose so; that is,&rdquo; added he, with a bitter grin, &ldquo;if I can tear
+myself away from <i>you</i>;&rdquo; but she only smiled.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll have to pay a forfeit in this match,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;and my book
+will be all smashed, besides. I say,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;would Trafford ride for
+me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps he would.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None of your mock indifference, Madam. I can't afford to lose a thousand
+pounds every time you have a whim. Ay, look astonished if you like! but if
+you had n't gone into the billiard-room on Saturday evening and spoiled my
+match, I 'd have escaped that infernal whist-table. Listen to me now! Tell
+him that I have been sent for suddenly,&mdash;it might be too great a risk
+for me to refuse to go,&mdash;and ask him to ride Crescy; if he says Yes,&mdash;and
+he will say yes if you ask him as you <i>ought</i>,&rdquo;&mdash;her cheek grew
+crimson as he uttered the last word with a strong emphasis,&mdash;&ldquo;tell
+him to take up my book. Mind you use the words 'take up;' <i>he'll</i>
+understand you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why not say all this yourself?&mdash;he 's riding close behind at
+this minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because I have a wife, Madam, who can do it so much better; because I
+have a wife who plucks a carnation out of a man's coat, and wears it in
+her bosom, and this on an open race-course, where people can talk of it!
+and a woman with such rare tact ought to be of service to her husband,
+eh?&rdquo; She swayed to and fro in her saddle for an instant as though about to
+fall, but she grasped the horn with both hands and saved herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img alt="frontispiece (72K)" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="100%" />
+</div>
+<p>
+<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo; muttered she, faintly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not quite. Tell Trafford to come round to my dressing-room, and I 'll
+give him a hint or two about the horse. He must come at once, for I have
+only time to change my clothes and start. You can make some excuse to the
+people for my absence; say that the old Judge has had another attack, and
+I only wish it may be true. Tell them I got a telegram, and <i>that</i>
+may mean anything. Trafford will help you to do the honors, and I 'll
+swear him in as viceroy before I go. Is n't that all that could be asked
+of me?&rdquo; The insolence of his look as he said this made her turn away her
+head as though sickened and disgusted.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They want you at the weighing-stand, Colonel Sewell,&rdquo; said a gentleman,
+riding up.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, they do! Well, say, please, that I 'm coming. Has he given you that
+black horse?&rdquo; asked he, in a hurried whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; he offered him, but I refused.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You had no right to refuse; he's strong enough to carry <i>me</i>; and
+the ponies that I saw led round to the stable-yard, whose are they?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are Captain Trafford's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You told him you thought them handsome, I suppose, didn't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I think them very beautiful.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, don't take them as a present. Win them if you like at piquet or
+écarté,&mdash;any way you please, but don't take them as a gift, for I
+heard Westenra say they were meant for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She nodded; and as she bent her head, a smile, the very strangest, crossed
+her features. If it were not that the pervading expression of her face was
+at the instant melancholy, the look she gave him would have been almost
+devilish.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have something else to say, but I can't remember it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't know when you'll be back?&rdquo; asked she, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not,&mdash;how can I? I can only promise that I'll not arrive
+unexpectedly, Madam; and I take it that's as much as any gentleman can be
+called on to say. Bye-bye.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-bye,&rdquo; said she, in the same tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see that Mr. Balfour is here. I can't tell who asked him; but mind you
+don't invite him to luncheon; take no notice of him whatever; he'll not
+bet a guinea; never plays; never risks anything,&mdash;even his <i>affections!</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a creature!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Isn't he! There! I'll not detain you from pleasanter company; good-bye;
+see you here when I come back, I suppose?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Most probably,&rdquo; said she, with a smile; and away he rode, at a tearing
+gallop, for his watch warned him that he was driven to the last minute.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My husband has been sent for to town, Captain Traf-ford,&rdquo; said she,
+turning her head towards him as he resumed his place at her side; &ldquo;the
+Chief Baron desires to see him immediately, and he sets off at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And his race? What 's to become of his match?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said I was to ask you to ride for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Me&mdash;I ride! Why, I am two stone heavier than he is.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose he knew that,&rdquo; said she, coldly, and as if the matter was one
+of complete indifference to her. &ldquo;I am only delivering a message,&rdquo;
+ continued she, in the same careless tone; &ldquo;he said, 'Ask Captain Trafford
+to ride for me and take up my book; 'I was to be particular about the
+phrase 'take up;' I conclude you will know what meaning to attach to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect I do,&rdquo; said he, with a low soft laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I was to add something about hints he was to give you, if you 'd go
+round to his dressing-room at once; indeed, I believe you have little time
+to spare.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I'll go,&mdash;I 'll go now; only there 's one thing I 'd like to
+ask&mdash;that is&mdash;I'd be very glad to know&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; said she, after a pause, in which his confusion seemed to
+increase with every minute.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, I should like to know whether you wished me to ride this race or
+not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whether <i>I</i> wished it?&rdquo; said she, in a tone of astonishment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, whether you cared about the matter one way or other?&rdquo; replied he,
+in still deeper embarrassment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How could it concern me, my dear Captain Trafford?&rdquo; said she, with an
+easy smile; &ldquo;a race never interests me much, and I 'd just as soon see
+Blue and Orange come in as Yellow and Black; but you 'll be late if you
+intend to see my husband; I think you 'd better make haste.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I will, and I 'll be back immediately,&rdquo; said he, not sorry to escape a
+scene where his confusion was now making him miserable.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You <i>are</i> a very nice horse!&rdquo; said she, patting the animal's neck,
+as he chafed to dash off after the other. &ldquo;I 'd like very much to own you;
+that is, if I ever was to call anything my own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're clearing the course, Mrs. Sewell,&rdquo; said one of her companions,
+riding up; &ldquo;we had better turn off this way, and ride down to the stand.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's a go!&rdquo; cried another, coming up at speed. &ldquo;Big Trafford is going
+to ride Crescy; he 's well-nigh fourteen stone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not thirteen: I 'll lay a tenner on it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He can ride a bit,&rdquo; said a third.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd rather he 'd ride his own horse than mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sewell knows what he 's about, depend on 't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's his wife,&rdquo; whispered another; &ldquo;I'm certain she heard you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Sewell turned her head as she cantered along, and, in the strange
+smile her features wore, seemed to confirm the speaker's words; but the
+hurry and bustle of the moment drowned all sense of embarrassment, and the
+group dashed onward to the stand.
+</p>
+<p>
+Leaving that heaving, panting, surging tide of humanity for an instant,
+let us turn to the house, where Sewell was already engaged in preparing
+for the road.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are going to ride for me, Trafford?&rdquo; said Sewell, as the other
+entered his dressing-room, where, with the aid of his servant, he was
+busily packing up for the road.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not sure; that is, I don't like to refuse, and I don't see how to
+accept.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My wife has told you; I 'm sent for hurriedly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said he, looking round at him from his task.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as I have told you already; I 'd ride for you as well as a heavy
+fellow could take a light-weight's place, but I don't understand about
+your book&mdash;am I to stand your engagements?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean, are you to win all the money I'm sure to pocket on the match?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I don't mean that,&rdquo; said he, laughing; &ldquo;I never thought of trading on
+another man's brains; I simply meant, am I to be responsible for the
+losses?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you ride Crescy as you ought to ride him, you needn't fret about the
+losses?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But suppose that I do not&mdash;and the case is a very possible one&mdash;that,
+not knowing your horse&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take this portmanteau down, Bob, and the carpet-bag; I shall only lose my
+train,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a gesture of hot impatience; and as the servant
+left the room, he added: &ldquo;Pray don't think any more about this stupid
+race; scratch Crescy, and tell my wife that it was a change of mind on
+&ldquo;my&rdquo; part,&mdash;that I did not wish you to ride; good-bye;&rdquo; and he waved
+a hasty adieu with his hand, as though to dismiss him at once.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you 'll let me ride for you, I 'll do my best,&rdquo; blundered out
+Trafford; &ldquo;when I spoke of your engagements, it was only to prepare you
+for what perhaps you were not aware of, that I 'm not very well off just
+now, and that if anything like a heavy sum&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a most cautious fellow; I only wonder how you ever did get into a
+difficulty; but I 'm not the man to lead you astray, and wreck such
+splendid principles; adieu!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll ride, let it end how it may!&rdquo; said Trafiford, angrily, and left the
+room at once, and hurried downstairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell gave a parting look at himself in the glass; and as he set his hat
+jauntily on one side, said, &ldquo;There 's nothing like a little mock
+indignation to bully fellows of <i>his</i> stamp; the keynote of their
+natures is the dread of being thought mean, and particularly of being
+thought mean by a woman.&rdquo; He laughed pleasantly at this conceit, and went
+on his way.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXI. SEWELL ARRIVES IN DUBLIN
+</h2>
+<p>
+It was late at night when Sewell reached town. An accidental delay to the
+train deferred the arrival for upwards of an hour after the usual time;
+and when he reached the Priory, the house was all closed for the night,
+and not a light to be seen.
+</p>
+<p>
+He knocked, however, and rang boldly; and after a brief delay, and
+considerable noise of unbolting and unbarring, was admitted. &ldquo;We gave you
+up, sir, after twelve o'clock,&rdquo; said the butler, half reproachfully, &ldquo;and
+his Lordship ordered the servants to bed. Miss Lendrick, however, is in
+her drawing-room still.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is there anything to eat, my good friend? That is what I stand most in
+need of just now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's a cold rib of beef, sir, and a grouse pie; but if you 'd like
+something hot, I 'll call the cook.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, never mind the cook; you can give me some sherry, I 'm sure?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Any wine you please, sir. We have excellent Madeira, which ain't to be
+had everywhere nowadays.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madeira be it, then; and order a fire in my room. I take it you have a
+room for me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, all is ready; the bath was hot about an hour ago, and I 'll
+have it refreshed in a minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now for the grouse pie. By the way, Fenton, what is the matter with his
+Lordship? He was n't ill, was he, when he sent off that despatch to me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; he was in court to-day, and he dined at the Castle, and was in
+excellent spirits before he went out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has anything gone wrong, then, that he wanted me up so hurriedly?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, it ain't so easy to say, his Lordship excites himself so
+readily; and mayhap he had words with some of the judges,&mdash;mayhap
+with his Excellency, for they 're always at him about resigning, little
+knowing that if they 'd only let him alone he 'd go of himself, but if
+they press him he 'll stay on these twenty years.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't suspect he has got so many as twenty years before him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If he wants to live, sir, he 'll do it. Ah, you may laugh, sir, but I
+have known him all my life, and I never saw the man like him to do the
+thing he wishes to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cut me some of that beef, Fenton, and fetch me some draught beer. How
+these old tyrants make slaves of their servants,&rdquo; said he, aloud, as the
+man left the room,&mdash;&ldquo;a slavery that enthralls mind as well as body.&rdquo;
+ A gentle tap came to the door, and before Sewell could question the
+summons, Miss Lendrick entered. She greeted him cordially, and said how
+anxiously her grandfather had waited for him till midnight. &ldquo;I don't know
+when I saw him so eager or so impatient,&rdquo; she said.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you any clew to his reason for sending for me?&rdquo; said he, as he
+continued to eat, and assumed an air of perfect unconcern.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;None whatever. He came into my room about two o'clock, and told me to
+write his message in a good bold hand; he seemed in his usual health, and
+his manner displayed nothing extraordinary. He questioned me about the
+time it would take to transmit the message from the town to your house,
+and seemed satisfied when I said about half an hour.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's just as likely, perhaps, to be some caprice,&mdash;some passing
+fancy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shook her head dissentingly, but made no reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe the theory of this house is, 'he can do no wrong,'&rdquo; said
+Sewell, with a laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is so much more able in mind than all around him, such a theory might
+prevail; but I 'll not go so far as to say that it does.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not his mind gives him his pre-eminence, Miss Lucy,&mdash;it's his
+temper; it's that same strong will that overcomes weaker natures by dint
+of sheer force. The people who assert their own way in life are not the
+most intellectual, they are only the best bullies.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know very little of grandpapa, Colonel Sewell, that's clear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you so sure of that?&rdquo; asked he, with a dubious-smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I <i>am</i> sure of it, or in speaking of him you would never have used
+such a word as bully.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mistake me,&mdash;mistake me altogether, young lady. I spoke of a
+class of people who employ certain defects of temper to supply the place
+of certain gifts of intellect; and if your grandfather, who has no
+occasion for it, chooses to take a weapon out of their armory, the worse
+taste his.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy turned fiercely round, her face flushed, and her lip trembling. An
+angry reply darted through her mind, but she repressed it by a great
+effort, and in a faint voice she said, &ldquo;I hope you left Mrs. Sewell well?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, perfectly well, amusing herself vastly. When I saw her last, she had
+about half a dozen young fellows cantering on either side of her, saying,
+doubtless, all those pleasant things that you ladies like to hear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy shrugged her shoulders, without answering.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Telling you,&rdquo; continued he, in the same strain, &ldquo;that if you are
+unmarried you are angels, and that if married you are angels and martyrs
+too; and it is really a subject that requires investigation, how the best
+of wives is not averse to hearing her husband does not half estimate her.
+Don't toss your head so impatiently, my dear Miss Lucy; I am giving you
+the wise precepts of a very thoughtful life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had hoped, Colonel Sewell, that a very thoughtful life might have
+brought forth pleasanter reflections.&rdquo; &ldquo;No, that is precisely what it does
+not do. To live as long as I have, is to arrive at a point when all the
+shams have been seen through, and the world exhibits itself pretty much as
+a stage during a day rehearsal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, I am too young to profit by such experiences, and I will wish
+you a very good-night,&mdash;that is, if I can give no orders for anything
+you wish.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have had everything. I will finish this Madeira&mdash;to your health&mdash;and
+hope to meet you in the morning, as beautiful and as trustful as I see you
+now,&mdash;<i>felice notte</i>.&rdquo; He bowed as he opened the door for her to
+pass out, and she went, with a slight bend of the head and a faint smile,
+and left him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I could make you beat your wings against your cage, for all your
+bravery, if I had only three days here, and cared to do it,&rdquo; said he, as
+he poured the rest of the wine into his glass. &ldquo;How weary I could make you
+of this old house and its old owner. Within one month&mdash;one short
+month&mdash;I 'd have you repeating as wise saws every sneer and every
+sarcasm that you just now took fire at. And if I am to pass three days in
+this dreary old dungeon, I don't see how I could do better. What can he
+possibly want with me?&rdquo; All the imaginable contingencies he could conjure
+up now passed before his mind. That the old man was sick of solitude, and
+wanted him to come and live with them; that he was desirous of adopting
+one of the children, and which of them? then, that he had held some
+correspondence with Fossbrooke, and wanted some explanations,&mdash;a
+bitter pang, that racked and tortured him while he revolved it; and, last
+of all, he came back to his first guess,&mdash;it was about his will he
+had sent for him. He had been struck by the beauty of the children, and
+asked their names and ages twice or thrice over; doubtless he was bent on
+making some provision for them. &ldquo;I wish I could tell him that I'd rather
+have ten thousand down, than thrice the sum settled on Reginald and the
+girls. I wish I could explain to him that mine is a ready-money business,
+and that cash is the secret of success; and I wish I could show him that
+no profits will stand the reverses of loans raised at two hundred per
+cent! I wonder how the match went off to-day; I'd like to have the odds
+that there were three men down at the double rail and bank.&rdquo; Who got first
+over the brook, was his next speculation, and where was Trafford? &ldquo;If he
+punished Crescy, I think I could tell <i>that</i>,&rdquo; muttered he, with a
+grin of malice. &ldquo;I only wish I was there to see it;&rdquo; and in the delight
+this thought afforded he tossed off his last glass of wine, and rang for
+his bedroom candle.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At what time shall I call you, sir?&rdquo; asked the butler.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When are you stirring here,&mdash;I mean, at what hour does Sir William
+breakfast?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He breakfasts at eight, sir, during term; but he does not expect to see
+any one but Miss Lucy so early.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think not. Call me at eleven, then, and bring me some coffee and
+a glass of rum when you come. Do you mean to tell me,&rdquo; said he, in a
+somewhat stern tone, &ldquo;that the Chief Baron gets up at seven o'clock?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In term-time, sir, he does every day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad! I 'm well pleased that I have not a seat on the Bench. I 'd not be
+Lord Chancellor at that price.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It 's very hard on the servants, sir,&mdash;very hard indeed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose it is,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a treacherous twinkle of the eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If it was n't that I'm expecting the usher's place in the Court, I 'd
+have resigned long ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Lordship's pleasant temper, however, makes up for everything, Fenton,
+eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, that's true;&rdquo; and they both laughed heartily at the pleasant
+conceit; and in this merry humor they went their several ways to bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXII. MORNING AT THE PRIORY
+</h2>
+<p>
+Sewell was awoke from a sound and heavy sleep by the Chief Baron's valet
+asking if it was his pleasure to see his Lordship before he went down to
+Court, in which case there was not much time to be lost.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How soon does he go?&rdquo; asked Sewell, curtly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He likes to be on the Bench by eleven exactly, sir, and he has always
+some business in Chamber first.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All that tells me nothing, my good friend. How much time have I now to
+catch him in before he starts?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Half an hour, sir. Forty minutes, at most.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I 'll try and do it. Say I 'm in my bath, and that I 'll be with
+him immediately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The man was not well out of the room when Sewell burst out into a torrent
+of abuse of the old Judge and his ways: &ldquo;His inordinate vanity, his
+consummate conceit, to imagine that any activity of an old worn-out
+intellect like his could be of service to the public! If he knew but all,
+he is just as useful in his nightcap as in his wig, and it would be fully
+as dignified to sleep in his bed as in the Court of Exchequer.&rdquo; While he
+poured forth this invective, he dressed himself with all possible haste;
+indeed his ill-temper stimulated his alacrity, and he very soon issued
+from his room, trying to compose his features into a semblance of pleasure
+on meeting with his host.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope and trust I have not disturbed you unreasonably,&rdquo; said the Judge,
+rising from the breakfast-table, as Sewell entered. &ldquo;I know you arrived
+very late, and I 'd have given you a longer sleep if it were in my power.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An old soldier, my Lord, knows how to manage with very little. I am only
+sorry if I have kept you waiting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No man ever presumed to keep me waiting, sir. It is a slight I have yet
+to experience.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean, my Lord, it would have grieved me much had I occasioned you an
+inconvenience.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you had, sir, it might have reacted injuriously upon yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell bowed submissively, for what he knew not; but he surmised that as
+there was an opening for regret, there might also be a reason for
+gratitude; he waited to see if he were right.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My telegram only told you that I wanted you; it could not say for what,&rdquo;
+ continued the Judge; and his voice still retained the metallic ring the
+late irritation had lent it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There has been a contested question between the Crown and myself as to
+the patronage to an office in my Court. I have carried my point. They have
+yielded. They would have me believe that they have submitted out of
+deference to myself personally, my age, and long services. I know better,
+sir. They have taken the opinion of the Solicitor-General in England, who,
+with no flattering opinion of what is called 'Irish law,' has pronounced
+against them. The gift of the office rests with me, and it is my intention
+to confer it upon <i>you</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my Lord, I have no words to express my gratitude!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, sir, it shall be assumed to have been expressed. The salary is
+one thousand a year. The duties are almost nominal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was going to ask, my Lord, whether my education and habits are such as
+would enable me to discharge these duties?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I respect your conscientious scruple, sir. It is creditable and
+commendable. Your mind may, however, be at ease. Your immediate
+predecessor passed the last thirteen years at Tours, in France, and there
+was never a complaint of official irregularity till, three years ago, when
+he came over to afford his substitute a brief leave of absence, he forgot
+to sign his name to certain documents,&mdash;a mistake the less pardonable
+that his signature formed his whole and sole official drudgery.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was on Sewell's lips to say, &ldquo;that if <i>he</i> had not signed his name
+a little too frequently in life, his difficulties would not have been such
+as they now were.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am afraid I did not catch what you said, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not speak, my Lord,&rdquo; replied he, bowing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will see, therefore, sir, that the details of your official life need
+not deter you, although I have little doubt the Ministerial press will
+comment sharply upon your absence, if you give them the opportunity, and
+will reflect severely upon your unfitness, if they can detect a flaw in
+you. Is there anything, therefore, in your former life to which these
+writers can refer&mdash;I will not say disparagingly&mdash;but
+unpleasantly?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not aware, my Lord, of anything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, sir, I could not mean what might impugn your honor or affect
+your fame. I spoke simply of what soldiers are, perhaps, more exposed to
+than civilians,&mdash;the lighter scandals of society. You apprehend me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do, my Lord; and, I repeat that I have a very easy conscience on this
+score: for though I have filled some rather responsible stations at times,
+and been intrusted with high functions, all my tastes and habits have been
+so domestic and quiet&mdash;I have been so much more a man of home than a
+man of pleasure&mdash;that I have escaped even the common passing
+criticisms bestowed on people who are before the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this man&mdash;this Sir Brook Fossbrooke&mdash;one likely to occasion
+you any trouble?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In the first place, my Lord, he is out of the country, not very likely to
+return to it; and secondly, it is not in his power&mdash;not in any man 's
+power&mdash;to make me a subject for attack.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are fortunate, sir; more fortunate than men who have served their
+country longer. It will scarcely be denied that I have contributed to the
+public service, and yet, sir, <i>I</i> have been arraigned before the bar
+of that insensate jury they call Public Opinion, and it is only in denying
+the jurisdiction I have deferred the award.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell responded to the vainglorious outburst by a look of admiring
+wonder, and the Judge smiled a gracious acceptance of the tribute. &ldquo;I
+gather, therefore, sir, that you can accept this place without fear of
+what scandal or malignity may assail you by&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord, I can say as much with confidence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is necessary, sir, that I should be satisfied on this-head. The very
+essence of the struggle between the Crown and myself is in the fact that
+<i>my</i> responsibility is pledged, <i>my</i> reputation is in bond for
+the integrity and the efficiency of this officer, and I will not leave to
+some future biographer of the Irish Chief Barons of the Exchequer the task
+of apology for one who was certainly not the least eminent of the line.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your Lordship's high character shall not suffer through me,&rdquo; said Sewell,
+bowing respectfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The matter, then, is so far settled; perhaps, however, you would like to
+consult your wife? She might be averse to your leaving the army.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lord. She wishes&mdash;she has long wished it. We are both
+domestic in our tastes, and we have always-been looking to the time when
+we could live more for each other, and devote ourselves to the education
+of our children.&rdquo;'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Commendable and praiseworthy,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a half grunt, as
+though he had heard something of this-same domesticity and home-happiness,
+but that his own experiences scarcely corroborated the report. &ldquo;There
+are-certain steps you will have to take before leaving the service; it
+may, then, be better to defer your public nomination to this post till
+they be taken?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This, which was said in question, Sewell answered at once, saying, &ldquo;There
+need be no delay on this score, my Lord; by this day week I shall be
+free.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On this day week, then, you shall be duly sworn in. Now, there is another
+point&mdash;I throw it out simply as a suggestion&mdash;you will not
+receive it as more if you are indisposed to it. It may be some time before
+you can find a suitable house or be fully satisfied where to settle down.
+There is ample room here; one entire wing is unoccupied. May I beg to
+place it at your disposal?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my Lord, this is really too much kindness. You overwhelm me with
+obligations. I have never heard of such generosity.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, it is not all generosity,&mdash;I reckon much on the value of your
+society. Your companionable qualities are gifts I would secure by a
+'retainer.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In your society, my Lord, the benefits would be all on my side.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was a time, sir,&mdash;I may say it without boastful-ness,&mdash;men
+thought me an agreeable companion. The three Chiefs, as we were called
+from our separate Courts, were reputed to be able talkers. I am the sole
+survivor; and it would be a gain to those who care to look back on the
+really great days of Ireland, if some record should remain of a time when
+there were giants in the land. I have myself some very curious materials&mdash;masses
+of letters and such-like&mdash;which we may turn over some winter's
+evening together.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell professed his delight at such a prospect; and the Judge then,
+suddenly bethinking himself of the hour,&mdash;it was already nigh eleven,&mdash;arose.
+&ldquo;Can I set you down anywhere? Are you for town?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord; I was about to pay my mother a visit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll drop you there; perhaps you would convey a message from me, and say
+how grateful I should feel if she would give us her company at dinner,&mdash;say
+seven o'clock. I will just step up to say good-bye to my granddaughter,
+and be with you immediately.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell had not time to bethink him of all the strange events which a few
+minutes had grouped around him, when the Chief Baron appeared, and they
+set out.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they drove along, their converse was most agreeable. Sewell's attentive
+manner was an admirable stimulant, and the old Judge was actually sorry to
+lose his companion, as the carriage stopped at Lady Lendrick's door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What on earth brought you up, Dudley?&rdquo; said she, as he entered the room
+where she sat at breakfast.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me have something to eat, and I 'll tell you,&rdquo; said he, seating
+himself at table, and drawing towards him a dish of cutlets. &ldquo;You may
+imagine what an appetite I have when I tell you whose guest I am.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whose?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your husband's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You! at the Priory! and how came that to pass?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told you already I must eat before I talk. When I got downstairs this
+morning, I found the old man just finishing his breakfast, and instead of
+asking me to join him, he entertained me with the siege of Derry, and some
+choice anecdotes of Lord Bristol and 'the Volunteers.' This coffee is
+cold.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ring, and they 'll bring you some.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I am to take him as a type of Irish hospitality as well as Irish
+agreeability, I must say I get rid of two delusions together.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's the coffee. Will you have eggs?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, and a rasher along with them. You can afford to be liberal with the
+larder, mother, for I bring you an invitation to dine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At the Priory?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he said seven o'clock.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who dines there?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Himself and his granddaughter and I make the company, I believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I shall not go. I never do go when there 's not a party.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He's safer, I suppose, before people?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so. I could not trust to his temper under the temptation of a family
+circle. But what Drought you to town?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He sent for me by telegraph; just, too, when I had the whole county with
+me, and was booked to ride a match I had made with immense trouble. I got
+his message,&mdash;'Come up immediately.' There was not the slightest
+reason for haste, nor for the telegraph at all. The whole could have been
+done by letter, and replied to at leisure, besides&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was it, then?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a place he has given me,&mdash;a Registrarship of something in his
+Court, that he has been fighting the Castle people about for eighteen
+years, and to which Heaven knows if he has the right of appointment this
+minute.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What'sit worth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand a year net. There were pickings,&mdash;at least, the last man
+made a good thing of them,&mdash;but there are to be no more. We are to
+inaugurate, as the newspapers say, a reign of integrity and
+incorruptibility.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much the better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much the worse,&rdquo; say I. &ldquo;My motto is, Full batta and plenty of loot;
+and it's every man's motto, only that every man is not honest enough to
+own it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And when are you to enter upon the duties of your office?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Immediately. I 'm to be sworn in&mdash;there's an oath, it seems&mdash;this
+day week, and we 're to take up our abode at the Priory till we find a
+house to suit us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At the Priory?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. May I light a cigarette, mother: only one? He gave the invitation
+most royally. A whole wing is to be at our disposal. He said nothing about
+the cook or the wine-cellar, and these are the very ingredients I want to
+secure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shook her head dubiously, but made no answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't think, then, that he meant to have us as his guests?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think it unlikely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How shall I find out? It's quite certain I 'll not go live under his roof&mdash;which
+means his surveillance&mdash;without an adequate compensation. I 'll only
+consent to being bored by being fed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;House-rent is something, however.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, mother, but not everything. That old man would be inquiring who
+dined with me, how late he stayed, who came to supper, and what they did
+afterwards. Now, if he take the whole charge of us, I 'll put up with a
+great deal, because I could manage a little '<i>pied à terre</i>'
+somewhere about Kingstown or Dalkey, and 'carry on' pleasantly enough. You
+must find out his intentions, mother, before I commit myself to an
+acceptance. You must, indeed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take my advice, Dudley, and look out for a house at once. You 'll not be
+in <i>his</i> three weeks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can submit to a great deal when it suits me, mother,&rdquo; said he, with a
+derisive smile, and a look of intense treachery at the same time.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you can,&rdquo; said she, nodding in assent. &ldquo;How is she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As usual,&rdquo; said he, with a shrug of the shoulders.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the children?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are quite well. By the way, before I forget it, don't let the Judge
+know that I have already sent in my papers to sell out. I want him to
+believe that I do so now in consequence of his offer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is not likely we shall soon meet, and I may not have an opportunity of
+mentioning the matter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll come to dinner to-day, won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ought, even out of gratitude on <i>my</i> account. It would be only
+commonly decent to thank him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could n't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn't what? Couldn't come, or couldn't thank him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Could n't do either. You don't know, Dudley, that whenever our
+intercourse rises above the common passing courtesies of mere
+acquaintanceship, it is certain to end in a quarrel. We must never condemn
+or approve. We must never venture upon an opinion, lest it lead to a
+discussion, for discussion means a fight.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pleasant, certainly,&mdash;pleasant and amiable too!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be better, perhaps, that I had some of that happy disposition of
+my son,&rdquo; said she, with a cutting tone, &ldquo;and could submit to whatever
+suited me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He started as if he had seen something, and turning on her a look of
+passionate anger, began: &ldquo;Is it from <i>you</i> that this should come?&rdquo;
+ Then suddenly recollecting himself, he subdued his tone, and said: &ldquo;We 'll
+not do better by losing our tempers. Can you put me in the way to raise a
+little money? I shall have the payment for my commission in about a
+fortnight; but I want a couple of hundred pounds at once.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not two months since you raised five hundred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know it, and there 's the last of it. I left Lucy ten sovereigns when I
+came away, and this twenty pounds is all that I now have in the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all these fine dinners and grand entertainments that I have been told
+of,&mdash;what was the meaning of them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They were what the railway people call 'preliminary expenses,' mother.
+Before one can get fellows to come to a house where there is play, there
+must be a sort of easy style of good living established that all men like:
+excellent dinners and good wine are the tame elephants, and without them
+you 'll not get the wild ones into your 'compounds.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And to tell me that this could pay!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, and pay splendidly. If I had three thousand pounds in the world to
+carry on with, I 'd see the old Judge and his rotten place at Jericho
+before I 'd accept it. One needs a little capital, that's all. It's just
+like blockade-running,&mdash;you must be able to lose three for one you
+succeed with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see nothing but ruin&mdash;disreputable ruin&mdash;in such a course.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come down and look at it, mother, and you 'll change your mind. You 'll
+own you never saw a better ordered society in your life,&mdash;the <i>beau
+idéal</i> of a nice country-house on a small scale. I admit our <i>chef</i>
+is not a Frenchman, and I have only one fellow out of livery; but the
+thing is well done, I promise you. As for any serious play, you 'll never
+hear of it&mdash;never suspect it&mdash;no more than a man turning over
+Leech's sketches in a dentist's drawing-room suspects there's a fellow
+getting his eye-tooth extracted in the next room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I disapprove of it all, Dudley. It is sure to end ill.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For that matter, mother, so shall I! All I have asked from Fate this many
+a year is a deferred sentence; a long day, my Lord,&mdash;a long day!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell Sir William I am sorry I can't dine at the Priory to-day. It is one
+of my cruel headache-days. Say you found me looking very poorly. It puts
+him in good-humor to hear it; and if you can get away in the evening, come
+in to tea.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will think of this loan I want,&mdash;won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll think of it, but I don't know what good thinking will do.&rdquo; She
+paused, and after a few minutes' silence, said, &ldquo;If you really are serious
+about taking up your abode at the Priory, you 'll have to get rid of the
+granddaughter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We could marry her off easily enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You might, and you mightn't. If she marry to Sir William's satisfaction,
+he'll leave her all he has in the world.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Egad, he must have a rare taste in a son-in-law if he likes the fellow I
+'ll promote to the place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You seem to forget, Dudley, that the young lady has a will of her own.
+She's a Lendrick too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With all my heart, mother. She 'll not be a match for Lucy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And would <i>she</i>&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, would she,&rdquo; interrupted he, &ldquo;if her pride as a woman&mdash;if her
+jealousy was touched. I have made her do more than that when I wounded her
+self-love!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a very amiable husband, I must say.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We might be better, perhaps, mother; but I suspect we are pretty much
+like our neighbors. And it's positive you won't come to dinner?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No! certainly not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I 'll try and look in at tea-time. You 'll not forget what I spoke
+of. I shall be in funds in less than three weeks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She gave a little incredulous laugh as she said &ldquo;Goodbye!&rdquo; She had heard
+of such pledges before, and knew well what faith to attach to them.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIII. EVENING AT THE PRIORY
+</h2>
+<p>
+The Chief Baron brought his friend Haire back from Court to dine with him.
+The table had been laid for five, and it was only when Sewell entered the
+drawing-room that it was known Lady Lendrick had declined the invitation.
+Sir William heard the apology to the end; he even waited when Sewell
+concluded, to see if he desired to add anything more, but nothing came.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that case,&rdquo; said he, at length, &ldquo;we 'll order dinner.&rdquo; That his
+irritation was extreme needed no close observation to detect, and the
+bell-rope came down with the pull by which he summoned the servant.
+</p>
+<p>
+The dinner proceeded drearily enough. None liked to adventure on a remark
+which might lead to something unpleasant in discussion, and little was
+spoken on any side. Sewell praised the mutton, and the Chief Baron bowed
+stiffly. When Haire remarked that the pale sherry was excellent, he dryly
+told the butler to &ldquo;fill Mr. Haire's glass;&rdquo; and though Lucy, with more
+caution, was silent, she did not escape, for he turned towards her and
+said, &ldquo;We have not been favored with a word from your lips, Miss Lendrick;
+I hope these neuralgic headaches are not becoming a family affection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am perfectly well, sir,&rdquo; said she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is Haire's fault, then,&rdquo; said the Judge, with one of his malicious
+twinkles of the eye,&mdash;&ldquo;all Haire's fault if we are dull. It is ever
+so with wits, Colonel Sewell; they will not perform to empty benches.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know whom you call a wit,&rdquo; began Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear friend, the men of pleasantry and happy conceits must no more
+deny the reputation that attaches to them than must a rich merchant
+dishonor his bill; nor need a man resent more being called a Wit, than
+being styled a Poet, a Painter, a Chief Baron, or&rdquo;&mdash;here he waved his
+hand towards Sewell, and bowing slightly, added&mdash;&ldquo;a Chief Registrar
+to the Court of Exchequer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, have you got the appointment?&rdquo; said Haire to the Colonel. &ldquo;I am
+heartily glad of it. I 'm delighted to know it has been given to one of
+the family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I said awhile ago,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a smile of deeper malice,
+&ldquo;these witty fellows spare nobody! At the very moment he praises the
+sherry he disparages the host. Why should not this place be filled by one
+of my family, Haire? I call upon you to show cause.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's no reason against it. I never said there was. Nay, I was far from
+satisfied with you on the day you refused my prayer on behalf of one
+belonging to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, you are travelling out of the record,&rdquo; said the Judge, angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can only say,&rdquo; added Haire, &ldquo;that I wish Colonel Sewell joy with all my
+heart; and if he 'll allow me, I 'll do it in a bumper.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'A reason fair to drink his health again!' That 's not the line. How does
+it go, Lucy? Don't you remember the verse?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; I never heard it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'A reason fair,&mdash;a reason fair.' I declare I believe the newspapers
+are right. I am losing my memory. One of the scurrilous rascals t'other
+day said they saw no reason Justice should be deaf as well as blind.
+Haire, was that yours?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand a year,&rdquo; muttered Haire to Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is that, Haire?&rdquo; cried the old Judge. &ldquo;Do I hear you aright? You
+utter one thousand things just as good every year?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was speaking of the Registrar's salary,&rdquo; said Haire, half testily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand a year is a pittance,&mdash;a mere pittance, sir, in a country
+like England. It is like the place at a window to see a procession. You
+may gaze on the passing tide of humanity, but must not dare to mix in it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yet papa went half across the globe for it,&rdquo; said Lucy, with a
+flushed and burning cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In your father's profession the rewards are less money, Lucy, than the
+esteem and regard of society. I have ever thought it wise of our rulers
+not to bestow titles on physicians, but to leave them the unobtrusive and
+undistinguished comforters of every class and condition. The equal of any,&mdash;the
+companion of all.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was evident that the old Judge was eager for discussion on anything. He
+had tried in vain to provoke each of his guests, and he was almost
+irritable at the deference accorded him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do I see you pass the decanter, Colonel Sewell? Are you not drinking any
+wine?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, my Lord.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you like coffee? Don't you think, Lucy, you could give him some?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir. I shall be delighted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well. Haire and I will finish this magnum, and then join you in the
+drawing-room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy took Sewells arm and retired. They were scarcely well out of the room
+when Sewell halted suddenly, and in a voice so artificial that, if Lucy
+had been given to suspectfulness, she would have detected at once, said,
+&ldquo;Is the Judge always as pleasant and as witty as we saw him today?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-day he was very far from himself; something, I 'm sure, must have
+irritated him, for he was not in his usual mood.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I confess I thought him charming; so full of neat reply, pleasant
+apropos, and happy quotation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He very often has days of all that you have just said, and I am delighted
+with them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What an immense gain to a young girl&mdash;of course, I mean one whose
+education and tastes have fitted her for it&mdash;to be the companion of
+such a mind as his! Who is this Mr. Haire?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A very old friend. I believe he was a schoolfellow of grandpapa's.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not his equal, I suspect, in ability or knowledge.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, nothing like it; a most worthy man, respected by every one, and
+devotedly attached to grandpapa, but not clever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Chief, I remarked, called him witty,&rdquo; said Sewell with a faint
+twinkle in his eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was done in jest. He is fond of fathering on him the smart sayings of
+the day, and watching his attempts to disown them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Haire likes that?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe he likes grandpapa in every mood he has.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What an invaluable friend! I wish to Heaven he could find such another
+for me. I want&mdash;there 's nothing I want more than some one who would
+always approve of me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps you might push this fidelity further than grandpapa does,&rdquo; said
+she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean that it might not always be so easy to applaud <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She only laughed, and made no effort to disclaim the assertion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said he, with a sigh, &ldquo;who knows but if I live to be old and rich
+I may be fortunate enough to have such an accommodating friend? Who are
+the other 'intimates' here? I ask because we are going to be domesticated
+also.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard so this morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope with pleasure, though you have n't said as much.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;With pleasure, certainly; but with more misgiving than pleasure.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pray explain this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Simply that the very quiet life we lead here would not be endurable by
+people who like the world, and whom the world likes. We never see any one,
+we never go out, we-have not even those second-hand glances at society
+that people have who admit gossiping acquaintances; in fact, regard what
+you have witnessed to-day as a dinner-party, and then fashion for yourself
+our ordinary life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do <i>you</i> like it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing else, and I am tolerably happy. If papa and Tom were here,
+I should be perfectly happy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! you startle me,&rdquo; said he, throwing away the unlighted cigar he
+had held for some minutes in his fingers; &ldquo;I did n't know it was so bad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is possible he may relax for you and Mrs. Sewell; indeed, I think it
+more than likely that he will.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, but the relaxation might only be in favor of a few more like that old
+gent we had to-day. No, no; the thing will never work. I see it at once.
+My mother said we could not possibly stand it three weeks, and I perceive
+it is your opinion too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not say so much,&rdquo; said she, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Joking apart,&rdquo; said he, in a tone that assuredly bespoke sincerity, &ldquo;I
+could n't stand such a dinner as we had to-day very often. I can bear
+being bullied, for I was brought up to it. I served on Rolffe's staff in
+Bombay for four years, and when a man has been an aide-de-camp he knows
+what being bullied means; but what I could not endure is that outpouring
+of conceit mingled with rotten recollections. Another evening of it would
+kill me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I certainly would not advise your coming here at that price,&rdquo; said she,
+with a gravity almost comical.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The difficulty is how to get off. He appears to me to resent as an
+affront everything that differs from his own views.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is not accustomed to much contradiction.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to any at all!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The energy with which he said this made her laugh heartily, and he half
+smiled at the situation himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are coming upstairs,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;will you ring for tea?&mdash;the
+bell is beside you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, if they 're coming I 'm off. I promised my mother a short visit this
+evening. Make my excuses if I am asked for;&rdquo; and with this he slipped from
+the room and went his way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where's the Colonel, Lucy? Has he gone to bed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, he has gone to see his mother; he had made some engagement to
+visit her this evening.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;This new school of politeness is too liberal for my taste. When we were
+young men, Haire, we would not have ventured to leave the house where we
+had dined without saluting the host.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I take it we must keep up with the spirit of our time.&rdquo; &ldquo;You mistake,
+Haire,&mdash;it is the spirit of our time is in arrear. It is that same
+spirit lagging behind, and deserting the post it once occupied, makes us
+seem in default. Let us have the cribbage-board, Lucy. Haire has said all
+the smart things he means to give us this evening, and I will take my
+revenge at the only game at which I am his master. Haire, who reads men
+like a book, Lucy,&rdquo; continued the Chief, as he dealt the cards, &ldquo;says that
+our gallant friend will rebel against our humdrum life here. I demur to
+the opinion,&mdash;what say you?&rdquo; But he was now deep in his game, and
+never heeded the answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIV. SEWELL'S TROUBLES
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A letter for you by the post, sir, and his Lordship's compliments to say
+he is waiting breakfast,&rdquo; were the first words which Sewell heard the next
+morning.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Waiting breakfast! Tell him not to wait,&mdash;I mean, make my respects
+to his Lordship, and say I feel very poorly to-day,&mdash;that I think I
+'ll not get up just yet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would you like to see Dr. Beattie, sir? He's in the drawing-room.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing of the kind. It's a complaint I caught in India; I manage it
+myself. Bring me up some coffee and rum in about an hour, and mind, don't
+disturb me on any account till then. What an infernal house!&rdquo; muttered he,
+as the man withdrew. &ldquo;A subaltern called up for morning parade has a
+better life than this. Nine o'clock only! What can this old ass mean by
+this pretended activity? Upon whom can it impose? Who will believe that it
+signifies a rush whether he lay abed till noon or rose by daybreak?&rdquo; A
+gentle tap came to the door, but as he made no reply there came after a
+pause another, a little louder. Sewell still preserved silence, and at
+last the sound of retiring footsteps along the corridor. &ldquo;Not if I know
+it,&rdquo; muttered he to himself, as he turned round and fell off asleep again.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The coffee, sir, and a despatch; shall I sign the receipt for you?&rdquo; said
+the servant, as he reappeared about noon.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; open the window a little, and leave me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Leaning on his arm, he tore open the envelope and glanced at the
+signature,&mdash;&ldquo;Lucy.&rdquo; He then read, &ldquo;Send down Eccles or Beattie by
+next train; he is worse.&rdquo; He read and re-read this at least half-a-dozen
+times over before he bethought him of the letter that lay still unopened
+on the bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+He now broke the seal; it was also from his wife, dated the preceding
+evening, and very brief:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear Dudley,&mdash;Captain Trafford has had a severe fall. Crescy balked
+at the brook and fell afterwards. Trafford was struck on the head as he
+rose by Mr. Creagh's horse. It is feared the skull is fractured. You are
+much blamed for having asked him to ride a horse so much under his weight.
+All have refused to accept their bets but Kinshela the grocer. I have
+written to Sir H. Trafford, and I telegraphed to him Dr. Tobin's opinion,
+which is not favorable. I suppose you will come back at once; if not,
+telegraph what you advise to be done. Mr. Balfour is here still, but I do
+not find he is of much use. The veterinary decided Crescy should be shot,
+as the plate-bone, I think he called it, was fractured; and as he was in
+great pain, I consented. I hope I have done right.&mdash;Yours truly,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy Sewell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here's a go! a horse I refused four hundred and fifty for on Tuesday
+last! I <i>am</i> a lucky dog, there 's no denying it. I did n't know
+there was a man in Europe could have made that horse balk his fence. What
+a rumpus to make about a fellow getting a 'cropper'! My share of the
+disaster is a deuced deal the worst. I 'll never chance on such a horse
+again. How am I to find either of these men?&rdquo; muttered he, as he took up
+the telegram. He rang the bell violently, and scarcely ceased to pull at
+it till the servant entered.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where does Dr. Eccles live?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir Gilbert, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, if he be Sir Gilbert.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Merrion Square, sir,&rdquo; said the man reproachfully, for he thought it
+rather hard to ignore one of the great celebrities of the land.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take this note to him, that I 'll write now, and if he be from home go to
+the other man,&mdash;what's his name?&mdash;Beattie.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dr. Beattie is coming to dinner to-day, sir,&rdquo; said the servant, thinking
+to facilitate matters.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just do as I tell you, my good fellow, and don't interrupt. If I am to
+take up my quarters here, you'll all of you have to change some of your
+present habits.&rdquo; As he spoke, he dashed off a few hasty lines, addressing
+them to Sir Gilbert Eccles or Dr. Beattie. &ldquo;Ask if it's 'all right;' that
+will be sufficient reply; and now send me my bath.&rdquo; As he proceeded with
+his dressing,&mdash;a very lengthy affair it always was,&mdash;he
+canvassed with himself whether or not he ought to take the train and go
+down to the country with the doctor. Possibly few men in such
+circumstances would have given the matter a doubt. The poor fellow who had
+incurred the mishap had been, at his insistence, acting for him. Had it
+not been for Se well's pressing this task upon him, Trafford would at that
+moment have been hale and hearty. Sewell knew all this well; he read the
+event just as nineteen out of every twenty would have read it, but having
+done so, he proceeded to satisfy himself why all these reasonings should
+give way to weightier considerations.
+</p>
+<p>
+First of all, it would not be quite convenient to let the old Judge know
+anything of these doings in the country. His strait-laced notions might
+revolt at races and betting-rings. It might not be perhaps decorous that a
+registrar of a high court should be the patron of such sports. These were
+prudential reasons, which he dilated on for some time. Then came some,
+others more sentimental. It was to a house of doctors and nurses and gloom
+and sorrow he should go back. All these were to him peculiarly
+distasteful. He should be tremendously &ldquo;bored&rdquo; by it all, and being
+&ldquo;bored&rdquo; was to him whatever was least tolerable in life. It was strange
+that there was one other reason stronger than all these,&mdash;a reason
+that really touched him in what was the nearest thing in his nature to
+heart. He couldn't go back and look at the empty loose-box where his
+favorite horse once stood, and where he was never to stand more. Crescy
+the animal he was so proud of,&mdash;the horse he counted on for who knows
+what future triumphs,&mdash;the first steeplechase horse, he felt
+convinced, in Ireland, if not in the kingdom,&mdash;such strength, such
+power in the loins, such square joints, such courage, should he ever see
+united again? If there was anything in that man's nature that represented
+affection, he had it for this horse. He knew well to what advantage he
+looked when on his back,&mdash;he knew what admiration and envy it drew
+upon him to see him thus mounted. He had won him at billiards from a man
+who was half broken-hearted at parting with him, and who offered immense
+terms rather than lose him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said I'd have no luck with him,&rdquo; muttered Sewell, now in his misery,&mdash;&ldquo;and,
+confound the fellow! he was right. No, I can't go back to look at his
+empty stall. It would half kill me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was very real grief, all this; he was as thoroughly heart-sore as it
+was possible for him to be. He sorrowed for what nothing in his future
+life could replace to him; and this is a very deep sorrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Trafford's misfortune was so much the origin and cause of his own disaster
+that he actually thought of him with bitterness. The man who could make
+Crescy balk! What fate could be too hard for him?
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor was he quite easy in his mind about that passage in his wife's letter
+stating that men would not take their bets. Was this meant as reflecting
+upon him? Was it a censure on him for making Trafford ride a horse beneath
+his weight? &ldquo;They get up some stupid cry of that sort,&rdquo; muttered he, &ldquo;as
+if I am not the heaviest loser of all. I lost a horse that was worth a
+score of Traffords.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+When dressed, Sewell went down to the garden and lit his cigar. His sorrow
+had grown calmer, and he began to think that in the new life before him he
+should have had to give up horses and sport of every kind. &ldquo;I must make my
+book now on this old fellow, and get him to make me his heir. He cares
+little for his son, and he can be made to care just as little for his
+granddaughter. That's the only game open to me,&mdash;a dreary life it
+promises to be, but it's better than a jail.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The great large wilderness of a garden, stretching away into an orchard at
+the end, was in itself a place to suggest sombre thoughts,&mdash;so silent
+and forsaken did it all appear. The fruit lay thick on the ground uncared
+for; the artichokes, grown to the height of shrubs, looked monsters of
+uncouthness; and even in the alleys flower-seeds had fallen and given
+birth to flowers, which struggled up through the gravel and hung their
+bright petals over the footway. There was in the neglect, the silence, the
+un-cared-for luxuriance of the place, all that could make a moody man
+moodier; and as he knocked off the great heads of the tall hollyhocks, he
+thought, and even said aloud, &ldquo;This is about as much amusement as such a
+spot offers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh no, not so bad as that,&rdquo; said a laughing voice; and Lucy peeped over a
+laurel-hedge with a rake in her hand, and seemed immensely amused at his
+discomfiture.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002">
+<!-- IMG --></a>
+</p>
+<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+<img src="images/302.jpg" width="100%" alt="302 " />
+</div>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where are you?&mdash;I mean, how is one to come near you?&rdquo; said he,
+trying to laugh, but not successfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go round yonder by the fish-pond, and you 'll find a wicket. This is <i>my</i>
+garden, and I till it myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So!&rdquo; said he, entering a neat little enclosure, with beds of flowers and
+flowering shrubs, &ldquo;this is your garden?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&mdash;what do you think of it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's very pretty,&mdash;it 's very nice. I should like it larger,
+perhaps.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So would I; but, being my own gardener, I find it quite big enough.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why doesn't the Chief give you a gardener?&mdash;he's rich enough,
+surely.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He never cared for gardening himself. Indeed, I think it is the wild
+confusion of foliage here that he likes. He said to me one day, 'In <i>my</i>
+old garden a man loses himself in thought. In this trimly kept place one
+is ever occupied by the melon-frame or the forcing-house.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the dreadful thing about old people; they are ever for making the
+whims and crotchets of age the rules of life to others. I wonder you bear
+this so well.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I didn't know that I bore anything,&rdquo; said she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's true slave doctrine, I must say; and when one does not feel
+bondage, there's no more to be said.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect I have a great deal more freedom than most girls; my time is
+almost all my own, to dispose of as I will. I read, or play, or walk, or
+work, as I feel inclined. If I wish to occupy myself with household
+matters, I am the mistress here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In other words, you are free to do everything that is not worth doing,&mdash;you
+lead the life of a nun in a convent, only that you have not even a sister
+nun to talk to.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And which are the things you say are worth doing?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would you not care to go out into the world, to mix in society, to go to
+balls, theatres, fêtes, and such-like? Would you not like to ride? I don't
+mean it for flattery, but would you not, like the admiration you would be
+sure to meet,&mdash;the sort of homage people render to beauty, the ouly
+tribute the world ever paid freely,&mdash;are all these not worth
+something?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sure they are: they are worth a great deal to those who can enjoy
+them with a happy heart; but remember, Colonel Se well, I have a father
+living in exile, simply to earn a livelihood, and I have a brother toiling
+for his bread in a strange land: is it likely I could forget these, or is
+it likely that I could carry such cares about with me, and enjoy the
+pleasures you tell of?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! as for that, I never met the man, nor woman either, that could bring
+into the world a mind unburdened by care. You must take life as it is. If
+I was to wait for a heart at ease before I went into society, I 'd have to
+decline a few dinner-parties. Your only chance of a little respite,
+besides, is at your age. The misfortunes of life begin as a little
+drizzle, but become a regular downpour when one gets to <i>my</i> time of
+life. Let me just tell you what this morning brought forth. A letter and
+then a telegram from my wife, to tell me that my favorite horse&mdash;an
+animal worth five hundred pounds if he was worth five shillings&mdash;the
+truest, bravest, best horse I ever backed&mdash;has just been killed by a
+stupid fellow I got to ride for me. What he did to make the horse refuse
+his leap, what magic he used, what conjuring trick he performed, I can't
+tell. With <i>me</i> it was enough to show him his fence, and if I wanted
+it I could n't have held him back. But this fellow&mdash;a dragoon, too,
+and the crack rider of his regiment&mdash;contrives to discourage my poor
+beast, then rushes him at the jump at half speed. I know it was a widish
+brook, and they tumbled in, and my horse smashed his blade bone,&mdash;of
+course there was nothing for it but to shoot him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How sad! I am really sorry for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And all this came of the old Judge's message, the stupidity of sending me
+five words in a telegram, instead of writing a proper note, and saying
+what he wanted. But for that I 'd have stayed at home, ridden my horse,
+won my match, and spared myself the whole disaster.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Grandpapa is often very hasty in his decisions, but I believe he seldom
+sees cause to revoke them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The old theory, 'The King can do no wrong,'&rdquo; said Sewell, with a saucy
+laugh; &ldquo;but remember he can often do a deal of mischief incidentally, as
+it were,&mdash;as on the present occasion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the rider, what of him? Did he escape unhurt?&rdquo; said she, eager to
+avoid unpleasant discussion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The rider! my dear young lady,&rdquo; said he, with affected slowness,&mdash;&ldquo;the
+rider came to grief. What he did, or how he did it, to throw my poor horse
+down, is his own secret, and, from what I hear, he is likely to keep it.
+No, no, don't look so horrified,&mdash;he's not killed, but I don't
+suspect he's a long way off it. He got a smashing fall at a fence I 'd
+have backed myself to ride with my hands tied. Ay, and to have my good
+horse back again, I 'd ride in that fashion to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the poor fellow, where is he now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The poor fellow is receiving the very sweetest of Mrs. Sewell's
+attentions. He is at my house,&mdash;in all likelihood in my room,&mdash;not
+that he is very conscious of all the favors bestowed upon him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, don't talk with that pretended indifference! You must be, you cannot
+help being, deeply sorry for what has happened.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There can be very little doubt on that score. I've lost such a horse as I
+never shall own again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pray think of something beside your horse. Who was he? What's his name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A stranger,&mdash;an Englishman; you never heard of him; and I wish I had
+never heard of him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What are you smiling at?&rdquo; said she, after a pause, for he stood as though
+reflecting, and a very strange half-smile moved his mouth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was just thinking,&rdquo; said he, gravely, &ldquo;what his younger brother ought
+to give me; for this fellow was an elder son, and heir to a fine estate
+too.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She turned an indignant glance towards him, and moved away. He was quickly
+after her, however, and, laying his hand on her arm, said good-humoredly:
+&ldquo;Come, don't be angry with me. I 'm sorry, if you like,&mdash;I 'm very
+sorry for this poor fellow. I won't say that my own loss does not dash my
+sorrow with a little anger,&mdash;he was such a horse! and the whole thing
+was such a blunder! as fair a brook,&mdash;with a high bank, it's true,&mdash;but
+as fair a fence as ever &amp; man rode at, and ground like this we 're
+walking over to take off from.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he in danger?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe so; here's what my wife says. Oh, I haven't got the letter
+about me, but it comes to this, I was to send down one of the best doctors
+by the first train, telling him it was a case of compression or
+concussion, which is it? And so I have despatched Beattie, your
+grandfather's man. I suppose there 's no better?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why have you not gone back yourself? He was a friend, was he not?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he was what people would call a friend. I 'm like the hare in the
+fable, I have many friends; but if I must be confidential, I 'll tell you
+why I did <i>not</i> go. I had a notion, just as likely to be wrong as
+right, that the Chief would take offence at his Registrar being a sporting
+character, and that if I were to absent myself just now, he'd find out the
+reason, whereas by staying here I could keep all quiet, and when Beattie
+came back I could square <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You could what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand pardons for my bit of slang; but the fact is, just as one
+talks French when he wants to say nothings, one takes to slang when one
+requires to be shifty. I meant to say, I could manage to make the doctor
+hold his tongue.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not if grandpapa were to question him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell smiled, and shook his head in dissent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no. You're quite mistaken in Dr. Beattie; and what's more, you 're
+quite mistaken in grandpapa too, if you imagine that he 'll think the
+better of you for forgetting the claims of friendship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There was none.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, of humanity, then! It was in <i>your</i> cause this man suffered,
+and it is in <i>your</i> house he lies ill. I think you ought to be there
+also.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm sure of it. You know the world a great deal better than I do, and
+you can tell what people will say of your absence; but I think it requires
+no knowledge of more than one's own nature to feel what is right and
+proper here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said he, reflectingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't you agree with me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps,&mdash;that is, in part. I suppose what you mean about the world
+is, that there will be some scandal afloat, the 'young wife' story, and
+all that sort of balderdash?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I really do not understand you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don't?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No. Certainly not. What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly you did not understand me. Well, if I am to go, there 's no time
+to be lost. It's four o'clock already, and the last train leaves at
+five-forty. I will go.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are quite right.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You 'll make my excuses to the Chief. You 'll tell him that my wife's
+message was so alarming that I could not delay my departure. Beattie will
+probably be back tomorrow, and bring you news of us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Won't you write a few lines?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm not sure,&mdash;I 'll not promise. I'm a bad penman, but my wife
+will write, I 've no doubt. Say all sorts of affectionate and dutiful
+things to the Chief for me; tell him I went away in despair at not being
+able to say good-bye; he likes that style of thing, does n't he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think he cares much for 'that style of thing,'&rdquo; said she, with a
+saucy smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a capital mimic you are! Do you know I am just beginning to suspect
+that you are, for all your quiet simplicity of manner, a deuced deep one.
+Am I right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shook her head, but made no reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not that I 'd like you the less for it,&rdquo; said he, eagerly; &ldquo;on the
+contrary, we 'd understand each other all the better; there's nothing like
+people talking the same language, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you'll not lose your train,&rdquo; said she, looking at her watch; &ldquo;I am
+half-past four.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A broad hint,&rdquo; said he, laughing; &ldquo;bye-bye,&mdash;<i>à bientôt</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXV. BEATTIE'S RETURN
+</h2>
+<p>
+The old Chief sat alone in his dining-room over his wine. If somewhat
+fatigued by the labors of the day,&mdash;for the Court had sat late,&mdash;he
+showed little of exhaustion; still less was he, as his years might have
+excused, drowsy or heavy. He sat bolt upright in his chair, and by an
+occasional gesture of his hand, or motion of his head, seemed as though he
+were giving assent to some statement he was listening to, or making his
+comments on it as it proceeded.
+</p>
+<p>
+The post had brought a letter to Lucy just as dinner was over. It bore the
+post-mark &ldquo;Cagliari,&rdquo; and was in her brother's hand; and the old man, with
+considerate kindness, told her to go to her room and read it. &ldquo;No, my dear
+child,&rdquo; said he, as she arose to leave the room; &ldquo;no! I shall not be
+lonely,&mdash;where there is memory there are troops of friends. Come back
+and tell me your news when you have read your letter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+More than an hour passed over, and he sat there heedless of time. A whole
+long life was passing in review before him, not connectedly, or in due
+sequence of events, but in detached scenes and incidents. Now it was some
+stormy night in the old Irish House, when Flood and Grattan exchanged
+their terrific denunciations and insults,&mdash;now it was a brilliant
+dinner at Ponsonby's, with all the wits of the day,&mdash;now he was
+leading the famous Kitty O'Dwyer, the beauty of the Irish Court, to her
+carriage, amid such a murmur of admiration as made the progress a triumph;
+or, again, it was a raw morning of November, and he was driving across the
+park to be present at Curran's meeting with Egan.
+</p>
+<p>
+A violent ring of the hall bell startled him, and before he could inquire
+the cause a servant had announced Dr. Beattie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought I might be fortunate enough to catch you before bed-hour,&rdquo; said
+the doctor, &ldquo;and I knew you would like to hear some tidings of my
+mission.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have been to&mdash;Where have you been?&rdquo; said the old Judge,
+embarrassed between the late flood of his recollections and the sudden
+start of his arrival.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To Killaloe, to see that poor fellow who had the severe fall in the
+hurdle-race.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay&mdash;to be sure&mdash;yes. I remember all now. Give me a moment,
+however.&rdquo; He nodded his head twice or thrice, as if concurring with some
+statement, and then said, &ldquo;Go on, sir; the Court is with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie proceeded to detail the accident and the state of the sufferer,&mdash;of
+whom he pronounced favorably,&mdash;saying that there was no fracture, nor
+anything worse than severe concussion. &ldquo;In fact,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;were it an
+hospital case, I'd say there was very little danger.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you mean to tell me, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, who had followed the
+narrative with extreme attention, &ldquo;that the man of birth and blood must
+succumb in any conflict more readily than the low-born?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not the individual I was thinking of, so much as his belongings
+here. What I fear for in the present case is what the patient must
+confront every day of his convalescence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Seeing that the Judge waited for some explanation, Beattie began to relate
+that, as he had started from Dublin the day before, he found himself in
+the same carriage with the young man's mother, who had been summoned by
+telegraph to her son's bedside.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have met,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;in my time, nearly all sorts and conditions of
+people. Indeed, a doctor's life brings him into contact with more maladies
+of nature and temperament than diseases of material origin; but anything
+like this woman I never saw before. To begin: she combined within herself
+two qualities that seem opposed to each other,&mdash;a most lavish candor
+on the score of herself and her family, and an intense distrust of all the
+rest of mankind. She told me she was a baronet's wife; how she had married
+him; where they lived; what his estate was worth; how this young fellow
+had become, by the death of a brother, the heir to the property; and how
+his father, indignant at his extravagance, had disentailed the estate, to
+leave it to a younger son if so disposed. She showed at times the very
+greatest anxiety about her son's state; but at other moments just as
+intense an eagerness to learn what schemes and intrigues were being formed
+against him,&mdash;who were the people in whose house he then was, what
+they were, and how he came there. To all my assurances that they were
+persons in every respect her son's equals, she answered by a toss of the
+head or a saucy half-laugh. 'Irish?' asked she. 'Yes, Irish.' 'I thought
+so,' rejoined she; 'I told Sir Hugh I was sure of it, though he said there
+were English Sewells.' From this instant her distrust broke forth. All
+Ireland had been in a conspiracy against her family for years. She had a
+brother, she said it with a shiver of horror, who was cruelly beaten by an
+attorney in Cork for a little passing pleasantry to the man's sister; he
+had kissed her, or something of the kind, in a railroad carriage; and her
+cousin,&mdash;poor dear Cornwall is Merivale,&mdash;it was in Ireland he
+found that creature that got the divorce against him two years since. She
+went on to say that there had been a plot against her son, in the very
+neighborhood where he now lay ill, only a year ago,&mdash;some intrigue to
+involve him in a marriage, the whole details of which she threatened me
+with the first time we should be alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Though at some moments expressing herself in terms of real affection and
+anxiety about her poor son, she would suddenly break off to speculate on
+what might happen from his death. 'You know, doctor, there is only one
+more boy, and if his life lapsed, Holt and the Holt estate goes to the
+Carringtons.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;An odious woman, sir,&mdash;a most odious woman; I only wonder why you
+continued to travel in the same carriage with her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My profession teaches great tolerance,&rdquo; said the doctor, mildly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don't call tolerance, sir, what there is a better word for,&mdash;subserviency.
+I am amazed how you endured this woman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember&mdash;it is to'be remembered&mdash;that in my version of her I
+have condensed the conversation of some hours, and given you, as it were,
+the substance of much talking; and also that I have not attempted to
+convey what certainly was a very perfect manner. She had no small share of
+good looks, a very sweet voice, and considerable attraction in point of
+breeding.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will accept none of these as alleviations, sir; her blandishments
+cannot blind the Court.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will not deny their influence upon myself,&rdquo; said Beattie, gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can understand you, sir,&rdquo; said the Judge, pompously. &ldquo;The habits of
+your profession teach you to swallow so much that is nauseous in a sweet
+vehicle, that you carry the same custom into morals.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie laughed so heartily at the analogy that the old man's good-humor
+returned to him, and he bade him continue his narrative.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not much more to tell. We reached the house by about eleven
+o'clock at night, and my fellow-traveller sat in the carriage till I
+announced her to Mrs. Sewell. My own cares called me to the sick-room, and
+I saw no more of the ladies till this morning, just before I came away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is, then, domesticated there? She has taken up her quarters at the
+Sewells' house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes. I found her maid, too, had taken possession of Colonel Sewell's
+dressing-room, and dispossessed a number of his chattels to make room for
+her own.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a happy thing, a very happy thing for me, that I have not been
+tried by these ordeals,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a long-drawn breath. &ldquo;I
+wonder how Colonel Sewell will endure it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have no means of knowing; he arrived late at night, and was still in
+bed and asleep when I left.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have not told me these people's name?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Trafford,&mdash;Sir Hugh Beecham Trafford, of Holt-Trafford,
+Staffordshire.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have met the man, or rather his father, for it was nigh fifty years
+ago,&mdash;an old family, and of Saxon origin; and his wife,&mdash;who was
+she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her name was Merivale. Her father, I think, was Governor of Madras.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If so, sir, she has hereditary claims for impertinence and presumption.
+Sir Ulysses Merivale enjoyed the proud distinction of being the most
+insolent man in England. It is well that you have told me who she was,
+Beattie, for I might have made a very fatal blunder. I was going to write
+to Sewell to say, 'As this is a great issue, I would advise you to bring
+down your mother, &ldquo;special,&rdquo;' but I recall my intention. Lady Lendrick
+would have no chance against Lady Trafford. Irish insolence has not the
+finish of the English article, and we put an alloy of feeling in it that
+destroys it altogether. Will the young man recover?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is going on favorably, and I see nothing to apprehend, except, indeed,
+that the indiscretions of his mother may prejudice his case. She is very
+likely to insist on removing him; she hinted it to me as I took my leave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will write to the Sewells to come up here at once. They shall evacuate
+the territory, and leave her in possession. As persons closely connected
+with my family, they must not have this outrage put upon them.&rdquo; He rang
+the bell violently, and desired the servant to request Miss Lendrick to
+come to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is not very well, my Lord, and has gone to her room. She told Mrs.
+Beales to serve your Lordship's tea when you were ready for it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is this? What does all this mean?&rdquo; said the old Judge, eagerly; for
+the idea of any one presuming to be ill without duly apprising him&mdash;without
+the preliminary step of ascertaining that it could not inconvenience him&mdash;was
+more than he was fully prepared for.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell Mrs. Beales I want her,&rdquo; said he, as he rose and left the room.
+Muttering angrily as he went, he ascended the stairs and traversed the
+long corridor which led to Lucy's room; but before he had reached the door
+the housekeeper was at his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Miss Lucy said she 'd like to see your Lordship, if it was n't too much
+trouble, my Lord.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am going to see her. Ask her if I may come in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord,&rdquo; said Mrs. Beales from the open door. &ldquo;She is awake.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own dear grandpapa,&rdquo; said Lucy, stretching out her arms to him from
+her bed, &ldquo;how good and kind of you to come here!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear, dear child,&rdquo; said he, fondly; &ldquo;tell me you are not ill; tell me
+that it is a mere passing indisposition.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not even so much, grandpapa. It is simply a headache. I was crying, and I
+was ashamed that you should see it; and I walked out into the air; and I
+came back again, trying to look at ease; and my head began to throb and to
+pain me so that I thought it best to go to bed. It was a letter I got,&mdash;a
+letter from Cagliari. Poor Tom has had the terrible fever of the island.
+He said nothing about it at first, but now he has relapsed. There are only
+three lines in his own hand,&mdash;the rest is from his friend. You shall
+see what he says. It is very short, and not very hard to read.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man put on his spectacles and read:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'My very dear Lucy.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who presumes to address you in this way? 'Brook Fossbrooke?' What! is
+this the man who is called Sir Brook Fossbrooke? By what means have you
+become so intimate with a person of his character?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing better, nothing more truly noble and generous, than his
+character,&rdquo; said she, holding her temples as she spoke, for the pain of'
+her head was almost agony. &ldquo;Do read on,&mdash;read on, dearest grandpapa.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He turned again to the letter, and read it over in silence till he came to
+the few words in Tom's hand, which he read aloud: &ldquo;Darling Lu&mdash;I
+shall be all right in a week. Don't fret, but write me a long&mdash;long&rdquo;&mdash;he
+had forgotten the word &ldquo;letter,&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;and love me always.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She burst into tears, as the old man read the words, for by some strange
+magic, the syllables of deep affection, uttered by one unmoved, smite the
+heart with a pang that is actual torture.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will take this letter down to Beattie, Lucy, and hear what he says of
+it,&rdquo; said the old man, and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Read this, Beattie, and tell me what you say to it,&rdquo; said the Chief
+Baron, as he handed the doctor Sir Brook's letter; &ldquo;I'll tell you of the
+writer when you have read it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie read the note in silence, and as he laid it on the table said, &ldquo;I
+know the man, and his strange old-fashioned writing would have recalled
+him without his name.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do you know of him, sir?&rdquo; asked the Judge, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can tell you the story in three words: He came to consult me one
+morning, about six or eight months ago. It was about an insurance on his
+life,&mdash;a very small sum he wanted to raise, to go out to this very
+place he writes from. He got to talk about the project, and I don't
+exactly know how it came about,&mdash;I forget the details now,&mdash;but
+it ended by my lending him the money myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, sir! do you combine usury with physic?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On that occasion I appear to have done so,&rdquo; said Beattie, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you advanced a sum of money to a man whom you saw for the first time,
+simply on his showing that his life was too insecure to guarantee
+repayment?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That puts the matter a little too nakedly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It puts it truthfully, sir, I apprehend.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you mean that the man impressed me so favorably that I was disposed to
+do him a small service, you are right.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You and I, Beattie, are too old for this impulsive generosity,&mdash;too
+old by thirty years! After forty philanthropy should take a chronic form,
+and never have paroxysms. I think I am correct in my medical language.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your medicine pleases me more than your morality,&rdquo; said Beattie,
+laughing; &ldquo;but to come back to this Sir Brook, I wish you had seen him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, I have seen him, and I have heard of him, and if not at liberty to
+say what I have heard of him, it is quite enough to state that <i>my</i>
+information cannot corroborate <i>your</i> opinion.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, my Lord, the possibility of what I might hear will not shake the
+stability of what I have seen. Remember that we doctors imagine we read
+human nature by stronger spectacles than the laity generally.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You imagine it, I am aware, sir; but I have met with no such instances of
+acuteness amongst your co-professionals as would sustain the claim; but
+why are we wandering from the record? I gave you that letter to read that
+you might tell me, is this boy's case a dangerous one?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a very grave case, no doubt; this is the malaria fever of Sardinia,&mdash;bad
+enough with the natives, but worse with strangers. He should be removed to
+better air at once if he could bear removal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So is it ever with your art,&rdquo; said the Judge, in a loud declamatory
+voice. &ldquo;You know nothing in your difficulties but a piteous entreaty to
+the unknown resources of nature to assist you. No, sir; I will not hear
+your defence; there is no issue before the Court. What sort of
+practitioners have they in this island?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Rude enough, I can believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Could a man of eminence be found to go out there and see him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A man in large practice could not spare the time; but there are men of
+ability who are not yet in high repute: one of these might be possibly
+induced.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what might the expense be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A couple of hundred&mdash;say three hundred pounds, would perhaps
+suffice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go upstairs and see my granddaughter. She is very nervous and feverish;
+calm her mind so far as you are able; say that we are concerting measures
+for her brother's benefit; and by the time you shall come down again I
+will have made up my mind what to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie was a valued friend of Lucy's, and she was glad to see him enter
+her room, but she would not suffer him to speak of herself; it was of poor
+Tom alone she would talk. She heard with delight the generous intentions
+of her grandfather, and exclaimed with rapture,&mdash;&ldquo;This is his real
+nature, and yet it is only by the little foibles of his temper that the
+world knows him; but we, doctor,&mdash;we, who see him as he is, know how
+noble-hearted and affectionate he can be!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must hasten back to him,&rdquo; said Beattie, after a short space; &ldquo;for
+should he decide on sending out a doctor, I must lose no time, as I must
+return to see this young fellow at Killaloe to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, in my greater anxieties I forgot him! How is he,&mdash;can he
+recover?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I regard him as out of danger,&mdash;that is, if Lady Trafford can
+be persuaded not to talk him into a relapse.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Trafford! who is she?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His mother; she arrived last night.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And his name is Trafford, and his Christian name Lionel?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lionel Wentworth Trafford. I took it from his dressing-case when I
+prescribed for him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy had been leaning on her arm as she spoke, but she now sank slowly
+backward and fainted.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was a long time before consciousness came back, and even then she lay
+voiceless and motionless, and, though she heard what Beattie said to her,
+unable to speak to him, or intimate by a gesture that she heard him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The doctor needed no confidences,&mdash;he read the whole story. There are
+expressions in the human face which have no reference to physical ills;
+nor are there any indications of bodily suffering. He who asked, &ldquo;Canst
+thou minister to a mind diseased?&rdquo; knew how hopeless was his question; and
+this very despair it is&mdash;this sense of an affliction beyond the reach
+of art&mdash;gives a character to the expression which the doctor's eye
+never fails to discriminate from the look worn by mere malady.
+</p>
+<p>
+As she lay there motionless, her large eyes looking at him with that
+expression in which eagerness struggles against debility, he saw how he
+had become her confidant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, my dear child,&rdquo; said he, taking her hand between both his own, &ldquo;you
+have no occasion for fears on this score,&mdash;so far I assure you on my
+honor.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She gave his hand a slight, a very slight pressure, and tried to say
+something, but could not. &ldquo;I will go down now, and see what is to be done
+about your brother.&rdquo; She nodded, and he continued: &ldquo;I will pay you another
+visit to-morrow early, before I leave town, and let me find you strong and
+hearty; and remember that though I force no confidences, Lucy, I will not
+refuse them if you offer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have none, sir,&mdash;none,&rdquo; said she, in a voice of deep melancholy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that I know all that is to be known?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All, sir,&rdquo; said she, with a trembling lip.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, accept me as a friend whom you may trust, my dear Lucy. If you want
+me, I will not fail you; and if you have no need of me, there is nothing
+that has passed to-day between us ever to be remembered,&mdash;you
+understand me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do, sir. You will come to-morrow, won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He nodded assent, and left her.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVI. AN EXIT
+</h2>
+<p>
+Colonel Sewell stood at the window of a small drawing-room he called &ldquo;his
+own,&rdquo; watching the details of loading a very cumbrous travelling-carriage
+which was drawn up before the door. Though the postilions were in the
+saddle, and all ready for a start, the process of putting up the luggage
+went on but slowly,&mdash;now a heavy imperial would be carried out, and
+after a while taken in again; dressing-boxes carefully stowed away would
+be disinterred to be searched for some missing article; bags, baskets, and
+boxes of every shape and sort came and went and came again; and although
+the two footmen who assisted these operations showed in various ways what
+length of training had taught them to submit to in the way of worry and
+caprice, the smart &ldquo;maid,&rdquo; who now and then appeared to give some order,
+displayed most unmistakable signs of ill-humor on her face. &ldquo;Drat those
+dogs! I wish they were down the river!&rdquo; cried she, of two yelping, barking
+Maltese terriers, which, with small bells jingling on their collars, made
+an uproar that was perfectly deafening.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Miss Morris, if it would oblige <i>you</i>&mdash;&rdquo; said one of the
+tall footmen, as he caressed his whisker, and gave a very languishing
+look, more than enough, he thought, to supply the words wanting to his
+sentence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would oblige <i>me</i> very much, Mr. George, to get away out of this
+horrid place. I never did&mdash;no, never&mdash;in all my life pass such a
+ten days.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We ain't a-going just yet, after all,&rdquo; said footman number two, with a
+faint yawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's so like you, Mr. Breggis, to say something disagreeable,&rdquo; said she,
+with a toss of her head.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's because it's true I say it, not because it's onpleasant, Miss
+Caroline.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm not Miss Caroline, at least from you, Mr. Breggis.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ain't she haughty,&mdash;ain't she fierce?&rdquo; But his colleague would not
+assent to this judgment, and looked at her with a longing admiration.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's her bell again,&rdquo; cried the girl; &ldquo;as sure as I live, she's rung
+forty times this morning;&rdquo; and she hurried back to the house.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why do you think we're not off yet?&rdquo; asked George.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the way I heerd her talking that shows me,&rdquo; replied the other.
+&ldquo;Whenever she 's really about to leave a place she goes into them fits of
+laughing and crying and screaming one minute, and a-whimpering the next;
+and then she tells the people&mdash;as it were, unknownst to her&mdash;how
+she hated them all,&mdash;how stingy they was,&mdash;the shameful way they
+starved the servants, and such-like. There's some as won't let her into
+their houses by reason of them fits, for she'll plump out everything she
+knows of a family,&mdash;who ran away with the Misses, and why the second
+daughter went over to France.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know her better than me, Breggis.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do think I does; it's eight years I 've had of it. Eh, what's that,&mdash;was
+n't that a screech?&rdquo; and as he spoke a wild shrill scream resounded
+through the house, followed by a rapid succession of notes that might
+either have been laughter or crying.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell drew the curtain; and wheeling an arm-chair to the fireside, lit
+his cigar, and began to smoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+The house was so small that the noises could be heard easily in every part
+of it; and for a time the rapid passage of persons overhead, and the
+voices of many speaking together, could be detected, and, above these, a
+wild shriek would now and then rise above all, and ring through the house.
+Sewell smoked on undisturbed; it was not easy to say that he so much as
+heard these sounds. His indolent attitude, and his seeming enjoyment of
+his cigar, indicated perfect composure; nor even when the door opened, and
+his wife entered the room, did he turn his head to see who it was.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can William have the pony to go into town?&rdquo; asked she, in a
+half-submissive voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To tell Dr. Tobin to come out; Lady Trafford is taken ill.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He can go on foot; I may want the pony.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is alarmingly ill, I fear,&mdash;very violent spasms; and I don't
+think there is any time to be lost.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nobody that makes such a row as that can be in any real danger.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is in great pain, at all events.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Send one of her own people,&mdash;despatch one of the postboys,&mdash;do
+what you like, only don't bore <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She was turning to leave the room, when he called out, &ldquo;I say, when the
+attack came on did she take the opportunity to tell you any pleasant
+little facts about yourself or your family?&rdquo; She smiled faintly, and moved
+towards the door. &ldquo;Can't you tell me, ma'am? Has this woman been condoling
+with you over your hard fate and your bad husband? or has she discovered
+how that 'dear boy' upstairs broke his head as well as his heart in your
+service?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She did ask me certainly if there was n't a great friendship between you
+and her son,&rdquo; said she, with a tone of quiet disdain.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what did you reply?&rdquo; said he, throwing one leg over the arm of the
+chair as he swung round to face her.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't well remember. I may have said <i>you</i> liked <i>him</i>, or
+that <i>he</i> liked <i>you</i>. It was such a commonplace reply I made, I
+forget it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And was that all that passed on the subject?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I'd better send for the doctor,&rdquo; said she, and left the room
+before he could stop her, though that such was his intention was evident
+from the way he arose from his chair with a sudden spring.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall hear more of this, Madam,&mdash;by Heaven, you shall!&rdquo; muttered
+he, as he paced the room with rapid steps. &ldquo;Who's that? Come in,&rdquo; cried
+he, as a knock came to the door. &ldquo;Oh, Balfour! is it you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; what the deuce is going on upstairs? Lady Trafford appears to have
+gone mad.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed! how unpleasant!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very unpleasant for your wife, I take it. She has been saying all sorts
+of unmannerly things to her this last hour,&mdash;things that, if she were
+n't out of her reason, she ought to be thrown out of the window for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why didn't you do so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was a liberty I couldn't think of taking in another man's house.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lord love you, I'd have thought nothing of it! I'm the best-natured
+fellow breathing. What was it she said?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know how I can repeat them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I see, they reflect on me. My dear young friend, when you live to my
+age you will learn that anything can be said to anybody, provided it only
+be done by 'the third party.' Whatever the law rejects as evidence,
+assumes in social life the value of friendly admonition. Go on, and tell
+me who it is is in love with my wife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Cool as Mr. Cholmondely Balfour was, the tone of this demand staggered
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Art thou the man, Balfour?&rdquo; said Sewell at last, staring at him with a
+mock frown.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, by Jove! I never presumed that far.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the sick fellow, then, is the culprit?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So his mother opines. She is an awful woman! I was sitting with your wife
+in the small drawing-room when she burst into the room and cried out,
+'Mrs. Sewell, is your name Lucy? for, if so, my son has been rambling on
+about you this last hour in a wonderful way: he has told me about fifty
+times that he wants to see you before he dies; and now that the doctor
+says he is out of danger he never ceases talking of dying. I suppose you
+have no objection to the interview; at least they tell me you were
+constantly in his room before my arrival.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How did my wife take this?&mdash;what did she say?&rdquo; asked Sewell, with an
+easy smile as he spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She said something about agitation or anxiety serving to excuse conduct
+which otherwise would be unpardonable; and she asked me to send her maid
+to her,&mdash;as I think, to get me away.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you rang the bell and sat down again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; she gave me a look that said, I don't want you here, and I went; but
+the storm broke out again as I closed the door, and I heard Lady
+Trafford's voice raised to a scream as I came downstairs.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It all shows what I have said over and over again,&rdquo; said Sewell, slowly,
+&ldquo;that whenever a man has a grudge or a grievance against a woman, he ought
+always to get another woman to torture her. I 'll lay you fifty pounds
+Lady Traf-ford cut deeper into my wife's flesh by her two or three
+impertinences than if I had stormed myself into an apoplexy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And don't you mean to turn her out of the house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Turn whom out?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Trafford, of course.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not so easily done, I suspect. I'll take to the long-boat myself one
+of these days, and leave her in command of the ship.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you she's a dangerous, a very dangerous woman; she has been
+ransacking her son's desk, and has come upon all sorts of ugly memoranda,&mdash;sums
+lost at play, and reminders to meet bills, and such-like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; he was very unlucky of late,&rdquo; said Sewell, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And there was something like a will, too; at least there was a packet of
+trinkets tied up in a paper, which purported to be a will, but only bore
+the name Lucy.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How delicate! there's something touching in that, Balfour; isn't there?&rdquo;
+ said Sewell, with a grin. &ldquo;How wonderfully you seem to have got up the
+case! You know the whole story. How did you manage it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My fellow Paxley had it from Lady Trafford's maid. She told him that her
+mistress was determined to show all her son's papers to the Chief Baron,
+and blow you sky high.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's awkward, certainly,&rdquo; said Sewell, in deep thought. &ldquo;It would be a
+devil of a conflagration if two such combustibles came together. I 'd
+rather she 'd fight it out with my mother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you sent in your papers to the Horse Guards?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; it's all finished. I am gazetted out, or I shall be on Tuesday.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm sorry for it. Not that it signifies much as to this registrarship. We
+never intended to relinquish our right to it, we mean to throw the case
+into Chancery, and we have one issue already to submit to trial at bar.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who are <i>we</i> that are going to do all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Crown,&rdquo; said Balfour, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Ego et rex meus</i>; that's the style, is it? Come now, Balfy, if you
+'re for a bet, I 'll back my horse, the Chief Baron, against the field.
+Give me sporting odds, for he 's aged, and must run in bandages besides.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That woman's coming here at this moment was most unlucky.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it was; it would n't be <i>my</i> lot if it were anything else.
+I say,&rdquo; cried he, starting up, and approaching the window, &ldquo;what's up
+now?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She's going at last, I really believe.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The sound of many and heavy footsteps was now heard descending the stairs
+slowly, and immediately after two men issued from the door, carrying young
+Trafford on a chair; his arms hung listlessly at his side, and his head
+was supported by his servant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder whose doing is this? Has the doctor given his concurrence to it?
+How are they to get him into the coach, and what are they to do with him
+when he is there?&rdquo; Such was the running commentary Balfour kept up all the
+time they were engaged in depositing the sick man in the carriage. Again a
+long pause of inaction ensued, and at last a tap came to the door of the
+room, and a servant inquired for Mr. Balfour.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There!&rdquo; cried Sewell, &ldquo;it's <i>your</i> turn now. I only hope she 'll
+insist on your accompanying her to town.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Balfour hurried out, and was seen soon afterwards escorting Lady Trafford
+to the carriage. Whether it was that she was not yet decided as to her
+departure, or that she had so many injunctions to give before going, the
+eventful moment was long delayed. She twice tried the seat in the
+carriage, once with cushions and then without. She next made Balfour try
+whether it might not be possible to have a sort of inclined plane to lie
+upon. At length she seemed overcome with her exertions, sent for a chair,
+and had a glass of water given her, to which her maid added certain drops
+from a phial.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will tell Colonel Sewell all I have said, Mr. Balfour,&rdquo; said she,
+aloud, as she prepared to enter the carriage. &ldquo;It would have been more
+agreeable to me had he given me the opportunity of saying it to himself,
+but his peculiar notions on the duties of a host have prevented this. As
+to Mrs. Sewell, I hope and believe I have sufficiently explained myself.
+She at least knows my sentiments as to what goes on in this house. Of
+course, sir, it is very agreeable to <i>you</i>. Men of pleasure are not
+persons to be overburdened with scruples,&mdash;least of all such scruples
+as interfere with self-indulgence. This sort of life is therefore
+charming; I leave you to all its delights, sir, and do not even warn you
+against its dangers. I will not promise the same discretion, however, when
+I go hence. I owe it to all mothers who have sons, Mr. Balfour,&mdash;I
+owe it to every family in which there is a name to be transmitted, and a
+fortune to be handed down, to declare what I have witnessed under this
+roof. No, Lionel,&mdash;no, my dear boy; nothing shall prevent my speaking
+out.&rdquo; This was addressed to her son, who by a deep sigh seemed to protest
+against the sentiments he was not able to oppose. &ldquo;It may suit Mr.
+Balfour's habits, or his tastes, to remain here,&mdash;with these I have
+nothing to do. The Duke of Bayswater might possibly think his heir could
+keep better company,&mdash;with that I have no concern; though when the
+matter comes to be discussed before me,&mdash;as it one day will, I have
+no doubt,&mdash;I shall hold myself free to state my opinion. Good-bye,
+sir; you will, perhaps, do me the favor to call at the Bilton; I shall
+remain till Saturday there; I have resolved not to leave Ireland till I
+see the Viceroy; and also have a meeting with this Judge, I forget his
+name, Lam&mdash;Lena&mdash;what is it? He is the Chief something, and
+easily found.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A few very energetic words, uttered so low as to be inaudible to all but
+Balfour himself, closed this address.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;On my word of honor,&mdash;on my sacred word of honor,&mdash;Mr.
+Balfour,&rdquo; said she, aloud as she placed one foot on the step, &ldquo;Caroline
+saw it,&mdash;saw it with her own eyes. Don't forget all I have said;
+don't drop that envelope; be sure you come to see me.&rdquo; And she was gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me five minutes to recover myself,&rdquo; said Balfour, as he entered Se
+well's room, and threw himself on a sofa; &ldquo;such a 'breather' as that I
+have not had for many a day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard a good deal of it,&rdquo; said Sewell, coolly. &ldquo;She screams,
+particularly when she means to be confidential; and all that about my wife
+must have reached the gardener in the shrubbery. Where is she off to?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To Dublin. She means to see his Excellency and the Chief Baron; she says
+she can't leave Ireland till she has unmasked all your wickedness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She had better take a house on a lease then; did you tell her so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did nothing but listen,&mdash;I never interposed a word. Indeed, she
+won't let one speak.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd give ten pounds to see her with the Chief Baron. It would be such a
+'close thing.' All his neat sparring would go for nothing against her; for
+though she hits wide, she can stand a deal of punishment without feeling
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She 'll do you mischief there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She might,&rdquo; said he, more thoughtfully. &ldquo;I think I 'll set my mother at
+her; not that she 'll have a chance, but just for the fun of the thing.
+What 's the letter in your hand?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, a commission she gave me. I was to distribute this amongst your
+household;&rdquo; and he drew forth a banknote. &ldquo;Twenty pounds! you have no
+objection to it, have you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing about it; of course you never hinted such a thing to me;&rdquo;
+ and with this he arose and left the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVII. A STORMY MOMENT
+</h2>
+<p>
+Within a week after the first letter came a second from Cagliari. It was
+but half a dozen lines from Tom himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They are sending me off to a place called Maddalena, dearest Lucy, for
+change of air The priest has given me his house, and I am to be Robinson
+Crusoe there, with an old hag for Friday,&mdash;how I wish for you! Sir
+Brook can only come over to me occasionally. Look out for three rocks&mdash;they
+call them islands&mdash;off the N. E. of Sardinia; one of them is mine.&mdash;Ever
+your own,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tom L.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy hastened down with this letter in her hand to her grandfather's room,
+but met Mr. Haire on the stairs, who whispered in her ear, &ldquo;Don't go in
+just yet, my dear; he is out of sorts this morning; Lady Lendrick has been
+here, and a number of unpleasant letters have arrived, and it is better
+not to disturb him further.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you take this note,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;and give it to him at any fitting
+moment? I want to know what I shall reply,&mdash;I mean, I 'd like to hear
+if grandpapa has any kind message to send the poor fellow.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave it with me. I 'll take charge of it, and come up to tell you when
+you can see the Judge.&rdquo; Thus saying, he passed on, and entered the room
+where the Chief Baron was sitting. The curtains were closely drawn, and in
+one of the windows the shutters were closed,&mdash;so sensitive to light
+was the old man in his periods of excitement. He lay back in a deep chair,
+his eyes closed, his face slightly flushed, breathing heavily, and the
+fingers of one hand twitching slightly at moments; the other was held by
+Beattie, as he counted the pulse. &ldquo;Dip that handkerchief in the cold
+lotion, and lay it over his forehead,&rdquo; whispered Beattie to Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Speak out, sir; that muttering jars on my nerves, and irritates me,&rdquo; said
+the Judge, in a slow firm tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come,&rdquo; said Beattie, cheerfully, &ldquo;you are better now; the weakness has
+passed off.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is no weakness in the case, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, sitting bolt
+upright in the chair, as he grasped and supported himself by the arms. &ldquo;It
+is the ignoble feature of your art to be materialist. You can see nothing
+in humanity but a nervous cord and a circulation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The doctor's ministry goes no further,&rdquo; said Beattie, gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your art is then but left-handed, sir. Where 's Haire?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, at your side,&rdquo; replied Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must finish my story, Haire. Where was it that I left off? Yes; to be
+sure,&mdash;I remember now. This boy of Sewell's&mdash;Reginald Victor
+Sewell&mdash;was, with my permission, to take the name of Lendrick, and be
+called Reginald Victor Sewell Lendrick.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And become the head of your house?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The head of my house, and my heir. She did not say so, but she could not
+mean anything short of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What has your son done to deserve this?&rdquo; asked Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My son's rights, sir, extend but to the modest fortune I inherited from
+my father. Whatever other property I possess has been acquired by my own
+ability and labor, and is mine to dispose of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose there are other rights as well as those of the statute-book?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen to this, Beattie,&rdquo; cried the old Judge, with a sparkle of the eye,&mdash;&ldquo;listen
+to this dialectician, who discourses to me on the import of a word. It is
+not generous I must say, to come down with all the vigor of his bright,
+unburdened faculties upon a poor, weak, and suffering object like myself.
+You might have waited, Haire, till I had at least the semblance of power
+to resist you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What answer did you give her?&rdquo; asked Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I said,&mdash;what it is always safe to say,&mdash;'<i>Le roi s'avisera</i>.'
+Eh, Beattie? this is the grand principle of your own craft. Medicine is
+very little else than 'the wisdom of waiting.' I told her,&rdquo; continued he,
+&ldquo;I would think of it,&mdash;that I would see the child. 'He is here,' said
+she, rising and leaving the room, and in a few moments returned, leading a
+little boy by the hand,&mdash;a very noble-looking child, I will say, with
+a lofty head and a bold brow. He met me as might a prince, and gave his
+hand as though it were an honor he bestowed. What a conscious power there
+is in youth! Ay, sirs, that is the real source of all the much-boasted
+vigor and high-heartedness. Beattie will tell us some story of arterial
+action or nervous expansion; but the mystery lies deeper. The conscious
+force of a future development imparts a vigor that all the triumphs of
+after life pale before.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'<i>Fiat justitia, ruât coelum</i>,'&rdquo; said Haire,&mdash;&ldquo;I'd not provide
+for people out of my own family.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is a very neat though literal translation, sir, and, like all that
+comes from you, pointed and forcible.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd rather be fair and honest than either,&rdquo; said Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I appeal to you, Beattie, and I ask if I have deserved this;&rdquo; and the old
+Judge spoke with an air of such apparent sincerity as actually to impose
+upon the doctor. &ldquo;The sarcasms of this man push my regard for him to the
+last intrenchment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Haire never meant it; he never intended to reflect upon you,&rdquo; said
+Beattie, in a low tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He knows well enough that I did not,&rdquo; said Haire, half sulky; for he
+thought the Chief was pushing his raillery too far.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'm satisfied,&rdquo; said the Judge, with a sigh. &ldquo;I suppose he can't help
+it. There are fencers who never believe they have touched you till they
+see the blood. Be it so; and now to go back. She went away and left the
+child with me, promising to take him up after paying a visit she had to
+make in the neighborhood. I was not sorry to have the little fellow's
+company. He was most agreeable, and, unlike Haire, he never made me his
+butt. Well, I have done; I will say no more on that head. I was actually
+sorry when she came to fetch him, and I believe I said so. What does that
+grunt mean, Haire?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I did not speak.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir; but you uttered what implied an ironical assent,&mdash;a <i>nisi
+prius</i> trick,&mdash;like the leer I have seen you bestow upon the
+jury-box. How hard it is for the cunning man to divest himself of the
+subtlety of his calling!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to hear how it all ended,&rdquo; muttered Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall hear, sir, if you will vouchsafe me a little patience. When men
+are in the full vigor of their faculties, they should be tolerant to those
+footsore and weary travellers who, like myself, halt behind and delay the
+march. But bear in mind, Haire, I was not always thus. There was a time
+when I walked in the van. Ay, sir, and bore myself bravely too. I was
+talking with that child when they announced Mr. Balfour, the private
+secretary, a man most distasteful to me; but I told them to show him in,
+curious, indeed, to hear what new form of compromise they were about to
+propose to me. He had come with a secret and confidential message from the
+Viceroy, and really seemed distressed at having to speak before a child of
+six years old, so mysterious and reserved was he. He made a very long
+story of it,&mdash;full an hour; but the substance was this: The Crown had
+been advised to dispute my right of appointment to the registrarship, and
+to make a case for a jury; but&mdash;mark the 'but'&mdash;in consideration
+for my high name and great services, and in deference to what I might be
+supposed to feel from an open collision with the Government, they were
+still willing for an accommodation, and would consent to ratify any
+appointment I should make, other than that of the gentleman I had already
+named,&mdash;Colonel Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Self-control is not exactly the quality for which my friends give me most
+credit. Haire, there, will tell you I am a man of ungovernable temper, and
+who never even tried to curb his passion; but I would hope there is some
+injustice in this award. I became a perfect dove in gentleness, as I asked
+Balfour for the reasons which compelled his Excellency to make my
+stepson's exclusion from office a condition. 'I am not at liberty to state
+them,' was the cool reply. 'They are personal, and, of course, delicate?'
+asked I, in a tone of submission, and he gave a half assent in silence. I
+concurred,&mdash;that is, I yielded the point. I went even further. I
+hinted, vaguely of course, at the courteous reserve by which his
+Excellency was willing to spare me such pain as an unpleasant disclosure&mdash;if
+there were such&mdash;might occasion me. I added, that old men are not
+good subjects for shocks; and I will say, sirs, that he looked at me as I
+spoke with a compassionate pity which won all my gratitude! Ay, Beattie,
+and though my veins swelled at the temples, and I felt a strange rushing
+sound in my ears, I had no fit, and in a moment or two was as calm as I am
+this instant.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Let me be clear upon this point,' said I to him. 'I am to nominate to
+the office any one except Sewell, and you will confirm such nomination?'
+'Precisely,' replied he. 'Such act on my part in no way to prejudice
+whatever claim I lay to the appointment in perpetuity, or jeopardize any
+rights I now assert?' 'Certainly not,' said he. 'Write it,' said I,
+pushing towards him a pen and paper; and so overjoyed was he with his
+victorious negotiation that he wrote word for word as I dictated. When I
+came to the name Sewell, I added, 'To whose nomination his Excellency
+demurs, on grounds of character and conduct sufficient in his Excellency's
+estimation to warrant such exclusion; but which, out of deference to the
+Chief Baron's feelings, are not set forth in this negotiation.' 'Is this
+necessary?' asked he, as he finished writing. 'It is,' was my reply; 'put
+your name at foot, and the date;' and he did so.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I now read over the whole aloud; he winced at the concluding lines, and
+said, 'I had rather, with your permission, erase these last words; for
+though I know the whole story, and believe it too, there 's no occasion
+for entering upon it here.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;As he spoke, I folded the paper and placed it in my pocket. 'Now, sir,'
+said I, 'let <i>me</i> hear the story you speak of.' 'I cannot. I told you
+before I was not at liberty to repeat it.' I insisted, and he refused.
+There was a positive altercation between us and he raised his voice in
+anger, and demanded back from me the paper which he said I had tricked him
+into writing. I will not say that he meant to use force, but he sprang
+from his chair and came towards me with such an air of menace that the
+boy, who was playing in the corner, rushed at him and struck him with his
+drumstick, saying, 'You sha'n't beat grandpapa!' I believe I rang the
+bell; yes, I rang the bell sharply. The child was crying when they came. I
+was confused and flurried. Balfour was gone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the paper?&rdquo; asked Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The paper is here, sir,&rdquo; said he, touching his breastpocket. &ldquo;The country
+shall ring with it, or such submission shall I exact as will bring that
+Viceroy and his minions to my feet in abject contrition. Were you to ask
+me now, I know not what terms I would accept of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would rather you said no more at present,&rdquo; said Beattie. &ldquo;You need rest
+and quietness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I need reparation and satisfaction, sir; that is what I need.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course&mdash;of course; but you must be strong and well to enforce
+it,&rdquo; said Beattie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told Lady Lendrick to leave the child with me. She said she would bring
+him back to-morrow. I like the boy. What does my pulse say, Beattie?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It says that all this talking and agitation are injurious to you,&mdash;that
+you must be left alone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The old man sighed faintly, but did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Haire and I will take a turn in the garden, and be within call if you
+want us,&rdquo; said Beattie.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait a moment,&mdash;what was it I had to say? You are too abrupt,
+Beattie; you snap the cords of thought by such rough handling, and we old
+men lose our dexterous knack of catching the loose ends, as we once did.
+There, there&mdash;leave me now; the skein is all tangled in hopeless
+confusion.&rdquo; He waved his hand in farewell, and they left him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LADY'S LETTER
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy asked me to show him this note from her brother,&rdquo; said Haire, as he
+strolled with Beattie down the lawn. &ldquo;It was no time to do so. Look over
+it and say what you advise.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The boy wants a nurse, not a doctor,&rdquo; said Beattie. &ldquo;A little care and
+generous diet would soon bring him round; but they are a strange race,
+these Lendricks. They have all the stern qualities that brave danger, and
+they are terribly sensitive to some small wound to their self-love. Let
+that young fellow, for instance, only begin to feel that he is forgotten
+or an outcast, and he 'll droop at once. A few kind words, and a voice he
+loved, <i>now</i>, will do more than all my art could replace a little
+later.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean that we ought to have him back here?&rdquo; asked Haire, bluntly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean that he ought to be where he can be carefully and kindly treated.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll tell the Chief you think so. I 'll say that you dropped the remark
+to myself, of course,&mdash;never meaning to dictate anything to <i>him</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie shook his head in sign of doubt.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know him well, better perhaps than any one, and I know there's no more
+generous man breathing; but he must not be coerced,&mdash;he must not be
+even influenced, where the question be one for a decision. As he said to
+me one day, 'I want the evidence, sir, I don't want your speech to it.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's the evidence, then,&rdquo; said Beattie,&mdash;&ldquo;that note with its
+wavering letters, weak and uncertain as the fingers that traced them,&mdash;show
+him that. Say, if you like, that <i>I</i> read it and thought the lad's
+case critical. If, after that, he wishes to talk to me on the subject, I
+'m ready to state my opinion. If the boy be like his father, a few tender
+words and a little show of interest for him will be worth all the tonics
+that ever were brewed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's the grandfather's nature too; but the world has never known it,&mdash;probably
+never will know it,&rdquo; said Haire.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that I agree with you,&rdquo; said Beattie, dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He regards it as a sort of weakness when people discover any act of
+generosity or any trait of kindliness about him; and do you know,&rdquo; added
+he, confidentially, &ldquo;I have often thought that what the world regarded as
+irritability and sharpness was nothing more nor less than shyness,&mdash;just
+shyness.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I certainly never suspected that he was the victim of that quality.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I imagine not. A man must know him as I do to-understand it. I
+remember one day, long, long ago, I went so far as to throw out a half
+hint that I thought he labored under this defect; he only smiled and said,
+'You suspect me of diffidence. I am diffident,&mdash;no man more so, sir;
+but it is of the good or great qualities in other men.' Was n't that a
+strange reply? I never very clearly understood it,&mdash;do you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suspect I do; but here comes a message to us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Haire spoke a word with the servant, and then, turning: to Beattie, said:
+&ldquo;He wants to see me. I 'll just step in, and be back in a moment.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie promised not to leave till he returned, and strolled along by the
+side of a little brook which meandered tastefully through the greensward.
+He had fallen into a revery,&mdash;a curious inquiry within himself
+whether it were a boon or an evil for a man to have acquired that sort of
+influence over another mind which makes his every act and word seem
+praiseworthy and excellent. &ldquo;I wonder is the Chief the better or the worse
+for this indiscriminating attachment? Does it suggest a standard to attain
+to, or does it merely minister to self-love and conceit? Which is it?
+which is it?&rdquo; cried he, aloud, as he stood and gazed on the rippling
+rivulet beside him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I tell you?&rdquo; said a low, sweet voice; and Lucy Lendrick slipped her
+arm within his as she spoke,&mdash;&ldquo;shall I tell you, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do, by all means.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A little of both, I opine. Mind,&rdquo; said she, laughing, &ldquo;I have not the
+vaguest notion of what you were balancing in your mind, but somehow I
+suspect unmixed good or evil is very rare, and I take my stand on a
+compromise. Am I right?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely know, but I can't submit the case to you. I have an
+old-fashioned prejudice against letting young people judge their seniors.
+Let us talk of something else. What shall it be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to talk to you of Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have just been speaking to Haire about him. We must get him back here,
+Lucy,&mdash;we really must.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you mean here, in this house, doctor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, in this house. Come, don't shake your head, Lucy. I see the
+necessity for it on grounds you know nothing of. Lady Lendrick is
+surrounding your grandfather with her family, and I want Tom back here
+just that the Chief should see what a thorough Lendrick he is. If your
+grandfather only knew the stuff that's in him, he 'd be prouder of him
+than of all his own successes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, no,&mdash;a thousand times no, doctor! It would never do,&mdash;believe
+me, it would never do. There are things which a girl may submit to in
+quiet obedience, which in a man would require subserviency. The Sewells,
+too, are to be here on Saturday, and who is to say what that may bring
+forth?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She wrote to you,&rdquo; said the doctor, with a peculiar significance in his
+voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, a strange sort of note too; I almost wish I could show it to you,&mdash;I
+'d so like to hear what you 'd say of the spirit of the writer.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She told me she would write,&rdquo; said he again, with a more marked meaning
+in his manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall see it,&rdquo; said she, resolutely; &ldquo;here it is;&rdquo; and she drew forth
+the letter and handed it to him. For an instant she seemed as if about to
+speak, but suddenly, as if changing her mind, she merely murmured, &ldquo;Read
+it, and tell me what you think of it.&rdquo; The note ran thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dearest Lucy,&mdash;We are to meet to-morrow, and I hope and trust to
+meet like sisters who love each other. Let me make one brief explanation
+before that moment arrives. I cannot tell what rumors may have reached you
+of all that has happened here. I know nothing of what people say, nor have
+I the faintest idea how our life may have been represented. If you knew me
+longer and better, you would know that I neither make this ignorance
+matter of complaint nor regret. I have lived about long enough to take the
+world at its just value, and not to make its judgments of such importance
+as can impair my self-esteem and my comfort. It would, however, have been
+agreeable to me to have known what you may have heard of me&mdash;of us&mdash;as
+it is not impossible I might have felt the necessity to add something,&mdash;to
+correct something,&mdash;perhaps to deny something. I am now in the dark,
+and pray forgive me if I stumble rudely against you, where I only meant to
+salute you courteously.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You at least know the great disaster which befell here. Dr. Beattie has
+told you the story,&mdash;what more he may have said I cannot guess. If I
+were to wait for our meeting, I should not have to ask you. I should read
+it in your face, and hear it in every accent of your voice; but I write
+these few lines that you may know me at once in all frankness and
+openness, and know that if <i>you</i> be innocent of <i>my</i> secret, <i>I</i>
+at least have <i>yours</i> in my keeping. Yes, Lucy, I know all; and when
+I say all, I mean far more than you yourself know.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I were treacherous, I would not make this avowal to you. I should be
+satisfied with the advantage I possessed, and employ it to my benefit.
+Perhaps with any other woman than yourself I should play this part,&mdash;with
+you I neither can nor will. I will declare to you frankly and at once, you
+have lost the game and I have won it. That I say this thus briefly, is
+because in amplifying I should seem to be attempting to explain what there
+is no explaining. That I say it in no triumph, my own conscious
+inferiority to you is the best guarantee. I never would have dreamed of a
+rivalry had I been a girl. It is because I cannot claim the prize I have
+won it. It is because my victory is my misery I have gained it. I think I
+know your nature well enough to know that you will bear me no ill-will. I
+even go so far as to believe I shall have your compassion and your
+sympathy. I need them more, far more, than you know of. I could tell you
+that had matters fallen out differently it would not have been to <i>your</i>
+advantage, for there were obstacles&mdash;family obstacles&mdash;perfectly
+insurmountable. This is no pretence: on my honor I pledge to the truth of
+what I say. So long as I believed they might be overcome, I was in <i>your</i>
+interest, Lucy. You will not believe me, will you, if I swear it? Will you
+if I declare it on my knees before you?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I have not waited till we met to say these things, it is that we may
+meet with open hearts, in sorrow, but in sincerity. When I have told you
+everything, you will see that I have not been to blame. There may be much
+to grieve over, but there is nothing to reprehend&mdash;anywhere. And now,
+how is our future to be? It is for you to decide. I have not wronged you,
+and yet I am asking for forgiveness. Can you give me your love, and what I
+need as much, your pity? Can you forget your smaller affliction for the
+sake of my heavier one, for it is heavier?
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I plead guilty to one only treachery; and this I stooped to, to avoid the
+shame and disgrace of an open scandal. I told his mother that, though Lucy
+was my name, it was yours also; and that you were the Lucy of all his
+feverish wanderings. Your woman's heart will pardon me this one perfidy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is a very dangerous woman in one sense. She has a certain position in
+the world, from which she could and would open a fire of slander on any
+one. She desires to injure me. She has already threatened, and she is
+capable of more than threatening. She says she will see Sir William. This
+she may not be able to do; but she can write to him. You know better than
+I do what might ensue from two such tempers meeting; for myself I cannot
+think of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have written you a long letter, dear Lucy, when I only meant to have
+written five or six lines. I have not courage to read it over; were I to
+do so, I am sure I would never send it. Perhaps you will not thank me for
+my candor. Perhaps you will laugh at all my scrupulous honesty. Perhaps
+you will&mdash;no, that you never will&mdash;I mean, employ my
+trustfulness against myself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who knows if I have not given to this incident an importance which you
+will only smile at? There are people so rich that they never are aware if
+they be robbed. Are you one of these, Lucy? and, if so, will you forgive
+the thief who signs herself your ever-loving sister,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy Skwell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have told Dr. Beattie I would write to you; he looked as if he knew
+that I might, or that I ought,&mdash;which is it? Doctors see a great deal
+more than they ought to see. The great security against them is, that they
+acquire an indifference to the sight of suffering, which, in rendering
+them callous, destroys curiosity, and then all ills that can neither be
+bled nor blistered they treat as trifles, and end by ignoring altogether.
+Were it otherwise,&mdash;that is, had they any touch of humanity in their
+nature,&mdash;they would be charming confidants, for they know everything
+and can go everywhere. If Beattie should be one of your pets, I ask pardon
+for this impertinence; but don't forget it altogether, as, one day or
+other, you will be certain to acknowledge its truth.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We arrive by the 4.40 train on Saturday afternoon. If I see you at the
+door when we drive up, I shall take it as a sign I am forgiven.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie folded the letter slowly, and handed it to Lucy without a word.
+&ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; said he, after they had walked on several seconds in silence,&mdash;&ldquo;tell
+me, do you mean to-be at the door as she arrives?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; said she, in a very low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has a humble estimate of doctors; but there is one touch of nature
+she must not deny them,&mdash;they are very sensitive about contagion.
+Now, Lucy, I wish with all my heart that you were not to be the intimate
+associate of this woman.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So do I, doctor; but how is it to be helped?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He walked along silent and in deep thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I tell you, doctor, how it can be managed, but only by your help
+and assistance? I must leave this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave the Priory! but for where?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I shall go and nurse Tom: he needs <i>me</i>, doctor, and I believe I
+need <i>him</i>; that is, I yearn after that old companionship which made
+all my life till I came here&mdash;Come now, don't oppose this plan; it is
+only by your hearty aid it can ever be carried out. When you have told
+grandpapa that the thought is a good one, the battle will be more than
+half won. You see yourself I ought not to be here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly not here with Mrs. Sewell; but there comes the grave difficulty
+of how you are to be lodged and cared for in that wild country where your
+brother lives?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear doctor, I have never known pampering till I came here. Our life
+at home&mdash;and was it not happy!&mdash;was of the very simplest. To go
+back again to the same humble ways will be like a renewal of the happy
+past; and then Tom and I suit each other so well,&mdash;our very caprices
+are kindred. Do say you like this notion, and tell me you will forward
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The very journey is an immense difficulty.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not a bit, doctor; I have planned it all. From this to Marseilles is easy
+enough,&mdash;only forty hours; once there, I either go direct to
+Cagliari, or catch the Sardinian steamer at Genoa&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You talk of these places as if they were all old acquaintances; but, my
+dear child, only fancy yourself alone in a foreign city. I don't speak of
+the difficulties of a new language.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You might, though, my dear doctor. My French and Italian, which carry me
+on pleasantly enough with Racine and Ariosto, will expose me sadly with my
+'commissionnaire.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But quite alone you cannot go,&mdash;that's certain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must not take a maid, that's as certain; Tom would only send us both
+back again. If you insist, and if grandpapa insists upon it, I will take
+old Nicholas. He thinks it a great hardship that he has not been carried
+away over seas to see the great world; and all his whims and tempers that
+tortured us as children will only amuse us now; his very tyranny will be
+good fun.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare frankly,&rdquo; said the doctor, laughing, &ldquo;I do not see how the
+difficulties of foreign travel are to be lessened by the presence of old
+Nicholas; but are you serious in all this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perfectly serious, and fully determined on it, if I be permitted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When would you go?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At once! I mean as soon as possible. The Sewells are to be here on
+Saturday. I would leave on Friday evening by the mail-train from London. I
+would telegraph to Tom to say on what day he might expect me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To-day is Tuesday; is it possible you could be ready?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would start to-night, doctor, if you only obtain my leave.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is all a matter of the merest chance how your grandfather will take
+it,&rdquo; said Beattie, musing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But <i>you</i> approve? tell me you approve of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is certainly much in the project that I like. I cannot bear to
+think of your living here with the Sewells; my experience of them is very
+brief, but it has taught me to know there could be no worse companionship
+for you; but as these are things that cannot be spoken of to the Chief,
+let us see by what arguments we should approach him. I will go at once.
+Haire is with him, and he is sure to see that what I suggest has come from
+you. If it should be the difficulty of the journey your grandfather
+objects to, Lucy, I will go as far as Marseilles with you myself, and see
+you safely embarked before I leave you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She took his hand and kissed it twice, but was not able to utter a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, now, my dear child, don't agitate yourself; you need all your calm
+and all your courage. Loiter about here till I come to you, and it shall
+not be long.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a true, kind friend you are!&rdquo; said she, as her eyes grew dim with
+tears. &ldquo;I am more anxious about this than I like to own, perhaps. Will
+you, if you bring me good tidings, make me a signal with your
+handkerchief?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+He promised this, and left her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lucy sat down under a large elm-tree, resolving to wait there patiently
+for his return; but her fevered anxiety was such that she could not rest
+in one place, and was forced to rise and walk rapidly up and down. She
+imagined to herself the interview, and fancied she heard her grandfather's
+stern question,&mdash;whether she were not satisfied with her home? What
+could he do more for her comfort or happiness than he had done? Oh, if he
+were to accuse her of ingratitude, how should she bear it? Whatever
+irritability he might display towards others, to herself he had always
+been kind and thoughtful and courteous.
+</p>
+<p>
+She really loved him, and liked his companionship, and she felt that if in
+leaving him she should consign him to solitude and loneliness, she could
+scarcely bring herself to go; but he was now to be surrounded with others,
+and if they were not altogether suited to him by taste or habit, they
+would, even for their own sakes, try to conform to his ways and likings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Once more she bethought her of the discussion, and how it was faring. Had
+her grandfather suffered Beattie to state the case fully, and say all that
+he might in its favor? or had he, as was sometimes his wont, stopped him
+short with a peremptory command to desist? And then what part had Haire
+taken? Haire, for whose intelligence the old Judge entertained the lowest
+possible estimate, had somehow an immense influence over him, just as
+instincts are seen too strong for reason. Some traces of boyish
+intercourse yet survived and swayed his mind with his consciousness of its
+power.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How long it seems!&rdquo; murmured she. &ldquo;Does this delay augur ill for success,
+or is it that they are talking over the details of the plan? Oh, if I
+could be sure of that! My poor dear Tom, how I long to be near you&mdash;to
+care for you&mdash;and watch you!&rdquo; and as she said this, a cold sickness
+came over her, and she muttered aloud: &ldquo;What perfidy it all is! As if I
+was not thinking of myself, and my own sorrows, while I try to believe I
+am but thinking of my brother.&rdquo; And now her tears streamed fast down her
+cheeks, and her heart felt as if it would burst. &ldquo;It must be an hour since
+he left this,&rdquo; said she, looking towards the house, where all was still
+and motionless. &ldquo;It is not possible that they are yet deliberating.
+Grandpapa is never long in coming to a decision. Surely all has been
+determined on before this, and why does he not come and relieve me from my
+miserable uncertainty?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+At last the hall door opened, and Haire appeared; he beckoned to her with
+his hand to come, and then re-entered the house. Lucy knew not what to
+think of this, and she could scarcely drag her steps along as she tried to
+hasten back. As she entered the hall, Haire met her, and, taking her hand
+cordially, said, &ldquo;It is all right; only be calm, and don't agitate him.
+Come in now;&rdquo; and with this she found herself in the room where the old
+Judge was sitting, his eyes closed and his whole attitude betokening
+sleep. Beattie sat at his side, and held one hand in his own. Lucy knelt
+down and pressed her lips to the other hand, which hung over the arm of
+the chair. Gently drawing away the hand, the old man laid it on her head,
+and in a low faint voice said: &ldquo;I must not look at you, Lucy, or I shall
+recall my pledge. You are going away!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The young girl turned her tearful eyes towards him, and held her lips
+firmly closed to repress a sob, while her cheeks trembled with emotion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie tells me you are right,&rdquo; continued he, with a sigh; and then,
+with a sort of aroused energy, he added; &ldquo;But old age, amongst its other
+infirmities, fancies that right should yield to years. '<i>Ce sont les
+droits de la decrepitude</i>,' as La Rochefoucauld calls them. I will not
+insist upon my 'royalties,' Lucy, this time. You shall go to your
+brother.&rdquo; His hand trembled as it lay on her head, and then fell heavily
+to his side. Lucy clasped it eagerly, and pressed it to her cheek, and all
+was silent for some seconds in the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last the old man spoke, and it was now in a clear distinct voice,
+though weak. &ldquo;Beattie will tell you everything, Lucy; he has all my
+instructions. Let him now have yours. To-morrow we shall, both of us, be
+calmer, and can talk over all together. To-morrow will be Thursday?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wednesday, grandpapa.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wednesday,&mdash;all the better, my dear child; another day gained. I
+say, Beattie,&rdquo; cried he in a louder tone, &ldquo;I cannot have fallen into the
+pitiable condition the newspapers describe, or I could never have gained
+this victory over my selfishness. Come, sir, be frank enough to own that
+where a man combats himself, he asserts his identity. Haire will go out
+and give that as his own,&rdquo; muttered he; and as he smiled, he lay back, his
+breathing grew heavier and longer, and he sank into a quiet sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XXXIX. SOME CONJUGAL COURTESIES
+</h2>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have not told me what she wrote to you,&rdquo; said Sewell to his wife, as
+he smoked his cigar at one side of the fire while she read a novel at the
+other. It was to be their last evening at the Nest; on the morrow they
+were to leave it for the Priory. &ldquo;Were there any secrets in it, or were
+there allusions that I ought not to see?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not that I remember,&rdquo; said she, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What about our coming? Does the old man seem to wish for it?&mdash;how
+does she herself take it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She says nothing on the subject, beyond her regret at not being there to
+meet us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why can't she?&mdash;where will she be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;At sea, probably, by that time. She goes off to Sardinia to her brother.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! do you mean to that fellow who is living with Fossbrooke? Why did
+n't you tell me this before?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I remembered it; or, if I did, it's possible I thought it
+could not have much interest for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed, Madam! do you imagine that the only things I care for are the
+movements of <i>your</i> admirers? Where 's this letter? I 'd like to see
+it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tore it up. She begged me to do so when I had read it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How honorable! I declare you ladies conduct your intercourse with an
+integrity that would be positively charming to think of if only your male
+friends were admitted to any share of the fair dealing. Tell me so much as
+you can remember of this letter.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She spoke of her brother having had a fever, and being now better, but so
+weak and reduced as to require great care and attention, and obliged to
+remove for change of air to a small island off the coast.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And Fossbrooke,&mdash;does she mention <i>him?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only that he is not with her brother, except occasionally: his business
+detains him near Cagliari.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope it may continue to detain him there! Has this-young woman gone off
+all alone on this journey?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She has taken no maid. She said it might prove inconvenient to her
+brother; and has only an old family servant she calls Nicholas with her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, then, we have the house to ourselves so far. She 'll not be in a
+hurry back, I take it. Anything would be better than the life she led with
+her grandfather.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She seems sorry to part with him, and recurs three or four times to his
+kindness and affection.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His kindness and affection! His vanity and self-love are nearer the mark.
+I thought I had seen something of conceit and affectation, but that old
+fellow leaves everything in that line miles behind. He is, without
+exception, the greatest bore and the most insupportable bully I ever
+encountered.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lucy liked him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She did not,&mdash;she could not. It suits you women to say these things,
+because you cultivate hypocrisy so carefully that you carry on the game
+with each other! How could any one, let her be ever so abject, like that
+incessant homage this old man exacted,&mdash;to be obliged to be alive to
+his vapid jokes and his dreary stories, to his twaddling reminiscences of
+college success or House of Commons&mdash;Irish House too&mdash;triumphs?
+Do you think if I wasn't a beggar I 'd go and submit myself to such a
+discipline?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+To this she made no reply, and for a while there was a silence in the
+room. At last he said, &ldquo;<i>You'll</i> have to take up that line of
+character that <i>she</i> acted. <i>You'll</i> have to 'swing the incense'
+now. I'll be shot if <i>I</i> do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She gave no answer, and he went on: &ldquo;You 'll have to train the brats too
+to salute him, and kiss his hand and call him&mdash;what are they to call
+him&mdash;grandpapa? Yes, they must say grandpapa. How I wish I had not
+sent in my papers! If I had only imagined I could have planted you all
+here, I could have gone back to my regiment and served out my time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It might have been better,&rdquo; said she, in a low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course it would have been better; each of us would have been free, and
+there are few people, be it said, take more out of their freedom,&mdash;eh,
+Madam?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She shrugged her shoulders carelessly, but a slight, a very slight, flush
+colored her cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the way, now we're on that subject, have you answered Lady Trafford's
+letter?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said she; and now her cheek grew crimson.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what answer did you send?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I sent back everything.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean?&mdash;your rings and trinkets, the bracelet with the
+hair&mdash;mine, of course,&mdash;it could be no one's but mine.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;All, everything,&rdquo; said she, with a gulp.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must read the old woman's letter over again. You have n't burnt <i>that</i>,
+I hope?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; it's upstairs in my writing-desk.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare,&rdquo; said he, rising and standing with his back to the fire, &ldquo;you
+women, and especially fine ladies, say things to each other that men never
+would dare to utter to other men. That old dame, for instance, charged you
+with what we male creatures have no equivalent for,&mdash;cheating at play
+would be mild in comparison.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think that <i>you</i> escaped scot-free,&rdquo; said she, with an
+intense bitterness, though her tone was studiously subdued and low.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said he, with a jeering laugh. &ldquo;I figured as the accessory or
+accomplice, or whatever the law calls it. I was what polite French ladies
+call <i>le mari complaisant</i>,&mdash;a part I am so perfect in, Madam,
+that I almost think I ought to play it for my Benefit.' What do you say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, sir, it is not for me to pass an opinion on your abilities.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have less bashfulness,&rdquo; said he, fiercely. &ldquo;I 'll venture to say a word
+on <i>yours</i>. I 've told you scores of times&mdash;I told you in India,
+I told you at the Cape, I told you when we were quarantined at Trieste,
+and I tell you now&mdash;that you never really captivated any man much
+under seventy. When they are tottering on to the grave, bald, blear-eyed,
+and deaf, you are perfectly irresistible; and I wish&mdash;really I say it
+in all good faith&mdash;you would limit the sphere of your fascinations to
+such very frail humanities. Trafford only became spooney after that smash
+on the skull; as he grew better, he threw off his delusions,&mdash;did n't
+he?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So he told me,&rdquo; said she, with perfect calm.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! that was a great fluke of mine,&rdquo; cried he, aloud. &ldquo;That was a
+hazard I never so much as tried. So that this fellow had made some sort of
+a declaration to you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never said so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What was it then that you <i>did</i> say, Madam? Let us understand each
+other clearly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I am sure we need no explanations for that,&rdquo; said she, rising, and
+moving towards the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want to hear about this before you go,&rdquo; said he, standing between her
+and the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are not going to pretend jealousy, are you?&rdquo; said she, with an easy
+laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think not,&rdquo; said he, insolently. &ldquo;That is about one of the last
+cares will ever rob me of my rest at night. I 'd like to know, however,
+what pretext I have to send a ball through your young friend.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, as to that peril, it will not rob <i>me</i> of a night's rest,&rdquo; said
+she, with such a look of scorn and contempt as seemed actually to sicken
+him, for he staggered back as though about to fall and she passed out ere
+he could recover himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is to be no quarter between us then! Well, be it so,&rdquo; cried he, as he
+sank heavily into a seat. &ldquo;She's playing a bold game when she goes thus
+far.&rdquo; He leaned his head on the table, and sat thus so long that he
+appeared to have fallen asleep; indeed, the servant who came to tell him
+that tea was served, feared to disturb him, and retired without speaking.
+Far from sleeping, however, his head was racked with a maddening pain, and
+he kept on muttering to himself, &ldquo;This is the second time&mdash;the second
+time she has taunted me with cowardice. Let her beware! Is there no one
+will warn her against what she is doing?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Missis says, please, sir, won't you have a cup of tea?&rdquo; said the maid
+timidly at the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I'll not take any.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Missis says too, sir, that Miss Blanche is tuk poorly, and has a
+shiverin' over her, and a bad headache, and she hopes you 'll send in for
+Dr. Tobin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is she in bed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir, please.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll go up and see her;&rdquo; and with this he arose and passed up the little
+stair that led to the nursery. In one bed a little dark-haired girl of
+about three years old lay fast asleep; in the adjoining bed a bright
+blue-eyed child of two years or less lay wide awake, her cheeks crimson,
+and the expression of her features anxious and excited. Her mother was
+bathing her temples with cold water as Sewell entered, and was talking in
+a voice of kind and gentle meaning to the child.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That stupid woman of yours said it was Blanche,&rdquo; said Sewell, pettishly,
+as he gazed at the little girl.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I told her it was Cary; she has been heavy all day, and eaten nothing.
+No, pet,&mdash;no, darling,&rdquo; said she, stooping over the sick child, &ldquo;pa
+is not angry; he is only sorry that little Cary is ill.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you'd better have Tobin to see her,&rdquo; said he, coldly. &ldquo;I 'll
+tell George to take the tax-cart and fetch him out. It's well it was n't
+Blanche,&rdquo; muttered he, as he sauntered out of the room. His wife's eyes
+followed him as he went, and never did a human face exhibit a stronger
+show of repressed passion than hers, as, with closely compressed lips and
+staring eyes, she watched him as he passed out.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The fool frightened me,&mdash;she said it was Blanche,&rdquo; were the words he
+continued to mutter as he went down the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tobin arrived in due time, and pronounced the case not serious,&mdash;a
+mere feverish attack that only required a day or two of care and
+treatment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you seen Colonel Sewell?&rdquo; said Mrs. Sewell, as she accompanied the
+doctor downstairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I told him just what I 've said to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what reply did he make?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said, 'All right! I have business in town, and must start to-morrow.
+My wife and the chicks can follow by the end of the week.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's so like him!&mdash;so like him!&rdquo; said she, as though the pent-up
+passion could no longer be restrained.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XL. MR. BALFOUR'S OFFICE
+</h2>
+<p>
+On arriving in Dublin, Sewell repaired at once to Balfour's office in the
+Castle yard; he wanted to &ldquo;hear the news,&rdquo; and it was here that every one
+went who wanted to &ldquo;hear the news.&rdquo; There are in all cities, but more
+especially in cities of the second order, certain haunts where the men
+about town repair; where, like the changing-houses of bankers, people
+exchange their &ldquo;credits,&rdquo;&mdash;take up their own notes, and give up those
+of their neighbors.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell arrived before the usual time when people dropped in, and found
+Balfour alone and at breakfast. The Under-Secretary's manner was dry, so
+much Sewell saw as he entered; he met him as though he had seen him the
+day before, and this, when men have not seen each other for some time, has
+a certain significance. Nor did he ask when he had come up, nor in any way
+recognize that his appearance was matter of surprise or pleasure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what's going on here?&rdquo; said Sewell, as he flung himself into an
+easy-chair, and turned towards the fire. &ldquo;Anything new?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing particular. I don't suppose you care for the Cattle Show or the
+Royal Irish Academy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not much,&mdash;at least, I can postpone my inquiries about them. How
+about my place here? Are you going to give me trouble about it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your place,&mdash;your place?&rdquo; muttered the other, once or twice; and
+then, standing up with his back to the fire, and his skirts over his arms,
+he went on. &ldquo;Do you want to hear the truth about this affair, or are we
+only to go on sparring with the gloves, eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The truth, of course, if such a novel proceeding should not be too much
+of a shock to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I suspect not. I do a little of everything every day just to keep my
+hand in.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, go on now, out with this truth.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, the truth is,&mdash;I am now speaking confidentially,&mdash;if I
+were you I 'd not press my claim to that appointment,&mdash;do you
+perceive?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do not; but perhaps I may when you have explained yourself a little
+more fully.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And,&rdquo; continued he, in the same tone, and as though no interruption had
+occurred, &ldquo;that's the opinion of Halkett, and Doyle, and Jocelyn, and the
+rest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Confidentially, of course,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a sneer so slight as not to
+be detected.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I may say confidentially, because it was at dinner we talked it over, and
+we were only the household,&mdash;no guests but Byam Herries and
+Barrington.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you all agreed?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, there was not a dissentient voice but Jocelyn's, who said, if he
+were in your place, he'd insist on having all the papers and letters given
+up to him. His view is this: 'What security have I that the same charges
+are not to be renewed again and again? I submit now, but am I always to
+submit? Are my Indian'&mdash;(what shall I call them? I forget what he
+called them; I believe it was escapades)&mdash;'my Indian escapades to
+declare me unfit to hold anything under the Crown?' He said a good deal in
+that strain, but we did not see it. It was hard, to be sure, but we did
+not see it. As Halkett said, 'Sewell has had his innings already in India.
+If, with a pretty wife and a neat turn for billiards, he did not lay by
+enough to make his declining years comfortable, I must say that he was not
+provident.' Doyle, however, remarked that after that affair with Loftus up
+at Agra&mdash;wasn't it Agra?&rdquo;&mdash;Sewell nodded&mdash;&ldquo;it was n't so
+easy for you to get along as many might think, and that you were a
+devilish clever fellow to do what you had done. Doyle likes you, I think.&rdquo;
+ Sewell nodded again, and, after a slight pause, Balfour proceeded: &ldquo;And it
+was Doyle, too, said, 'Why not try for something in the colonies? There
+are lots of places a man can go and nothing be ever heard of him. If I was
+Sewell, I 'd say, Make me a barrackmaster in the Sandwich Islands, or a
+consul in the Caraccas.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They all concurred in one thing, that you never did so weak a thing in
+your whole life as to have any dealings with Trafford. It was his mother
+went to the Duke&mdash;ay, into the private office at the Horse Guards&mdash;and
+got Clifford's appointment cancelled, just for a miserable five hundred
+pounds Jack won off the elder brother,&mdash;that fellow who died last
+year at Madeira. She's the most dangerous woman in Europe. She does not
+care what she says, nor to whom she says it. She 'd go up to the Queen at
+a drawing-room and make a complaint as soon as she 'd speak to you or me.
+As it is, she told their Excellencies here all that went on in your house,
+and I suppose scores of things that did not go on either, and said, 'And
+are you going to permit this man to be'&mdash;she did not remember what,
+but she said&mdash;'a high official under the Crown? and are you going to
+receive his wife amongst your intimates?' What a woman she is! To hear her
+you 'd think her 'dear child,' instead of being a strapping fellow of six
+feet two, was a brat in knickerbockers, with a hat and feather. The fellow
+himself must be a consummate muff to be bullied by her; but then the
+estate is not entailed, they say, and there's a younger brother may come
+into it all. His chances look well just now, for Lionel has got a relapse,
+and the doctors think very ill of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had not heard that,&rdquo; said Sewell, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, he was getting on most favorably,&mdash;was able to sit up at the
+window, and move a little about the room,&mdash;when, one morning Lady
+Trafford had driven over to the Lodge to luncheon, he stepped downstairs
+in his dressing-gown as he was, got into a cab, and drove off into the
+country. All the cabman could tell was that he ordered him to take the
+road to Rathfarnham, and said, 'I 'll tell you by and by where to;' and at
+last he said, 'Where does Sir William Lendrick live?' and though the man
+knew the Priory, he had taken a wrong turn and got down to ask the road.
+Just at this moment a carriage drove by with two grays and a postilion&mdash;A
+young lady was inside with an elderly gentleman, and the moment Trafford
+saw her he cried out, 'There she is,&mdash;that is she!' As hard as they
+could they hastened after; but they smashed a trace, and lost several
+minutes in repairing it, and as many more in finding out which way the
+carriage had taken. It was to Kingstown, and, as the cabman suspected, to
+catch the packet for Holyhead; for just as they drove up, the steamer
+edged away from the pier, and the carriage with the grays drove off with
+only the old man, Trafford fell back in a faint, and appeared to have
+continued so, for when they took him out of the cab at Bilton's he was
+insensible.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie says he'll come through it, but Maclin thinks he 'll never be the
+same man again; he 'll have a hardening or a softening&mdash;which is it?&mdash;of
+the brain, and that he'll be fit for nothing.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Except a place in the viceregal household, perhaps. I don't imagine you
+want gold-medallists for your gentlemen-in-waiting?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have some monstrous clever fellows, let me tell you. Halkett made a
+famous examination at Sandhurst, and Jocelyn wrote that article in 'Bell's
+Life,' 'The Badger Drawn at Last.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To come back to where we were, how are you to square matters with the
+Chief Baron? Are you going to law with him about this appointment, or are
+you about to say that <i>I</i> am the objection? Let me have a definite
+answer to this question.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We have not fully decided; we think of doing either, and we sometimes
+incline to do both. At all events, we are not to have it; that's the only
+thing certain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you got a cigar? No, not these things; I mean something that can be
+smoked.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Try this,&rdquo; said Balfour, offering his case.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're the same as those on the chimney. I must say, Balfour, the
+traditional hospitalities of the Castle are suffering in their present
+hands. When I dined here the last time I was in town, they gave me two
+glasses of bad sherry and one glass of a corked Gladstone; and I came to
+dinner that day after reading in Barrington all about the glorious
+festivities of the Irish Court in the olden days of Richmond and Bedford.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lady Trafford insists that your names&mdash;your wife's as well as your
+own&mdash;are to be scratched from the dinner-list. Sir Hugh has three
+votes in the House, and she bullies us to some purpose, I can tell you. I
+can't think how you could have made this woman so much your enemy. It is
+not dislike,&mdash;it is hatred.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bad luck, I suppose,&rdquo; said Sewell, carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;She seems so inveterate too; she'll not give you up, very probably.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Women generally don't weary in this sort of pursuit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn't you come to some kind of terms? Couldn't you contrive to let her
+know that you have no designs on her boy? You've won money of him, have
+n't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have some bills of his,&mdash;not for a very large amount, though; you
+shall have them a bargain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I seldom speculate,&rdquo; was the dry rejoinder.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are right; nor is this the case to tempt you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 'll be paid, I take it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Paid! I'll swear they shall!&rdquo; said Sewell, fiercely. &ldquo;I'll stand a deal
+of humbug about dinner invitations, and cold salutations, and such-like;
+but none, sir, not one, about what touches a material interest.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's not worth being angry about,&rdquo; said Balfour, who was really glad to
+see the other's imperturbability give way.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'm not angry. I was only a little impatient, as a man may be when he
+hears a fellow utter a truism as a measure of encouragement. Tell your
+friends&mdash;I suppose I must call them your friends&mdash;that they make
+an egregious mistake when they push a man like me to the wall. It is
+intelligible enough in a woman to do it; women don't measure their
+malignity, nor their means of gratifying it; but <i>men</i> ought to know
+better.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I incline to think I'll tell my 'friends' nothing whatever on the
+subject.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's as you please; but remember this,&mdash;if the day should come
+that I need any of these, details you have given me this morning, I'll
+quote them, and you too, as their author; and if I bring an old house
+about your ears, look out sharp for a falling chimney-pot! You gave me a
+piece of advice awhile ago,&rdquo; continued he, as he put on his hat before the
+glass, and arranged his necktie. &ldquo;Let me repay you with two, which you
+will find useful in their several ways: Don't show your hand when you play
+with as shrewd men as myself; and, Don't offer a friend such execrable
+tobacco as that on the chimney;&rdquo; and with this he nodded and strolled out,
+humming an air as he crossed the Castle yard and entered the city.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLI. THE PRIORY IN ITS DESERTION
+</h2>
+<p>
+The old Judge was very sad after Lucy's departure from the Priory. While
+she lived there they had not seen much of each other, it is true. They met
+at meal-times, and now and then Sir William would send up the housekeeper
+to announce a visit from him; but there is a sense of companionship in the
+consciousness that under the same roof with you dwells one upon whose
+affection you can draw, whose sympathy will be with you in your hour of
+need; and this the old man now felt to be waiting; and he wandered
+restlessly about the house and the garden, tenacious to see that nothing
+she liked or loved was threatened with any change, and repeating to all
+that she must find everything as she left it when she came back again.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell had been recalled to the country by the illness of his child, and
+they were not expected at the Priory for at least a week or two longer.
+Haire had gone on circuit, and even Beattie the Judge only saw hurriedly
+and at long intervals. With Lady Lendrick he had just had a most angry
+correspondence, ending in one of those estrangements which, had they been
+nations instead of individuals, would have been marked by the recall of
+their several envoys, but which they were satisfied to signalize by an
+order at the Priory gate-lodge not to admit her Ladyship's carriage, and
+an equally determined command at Merrion Square for the porter to take in
+no letters that came from the Chief Baron.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lest the world should connect this breach with any interest in my story, I
+may as well declare at once the incident had no possible bearing upon it.
+It was a little episode entirely self-contained, and consisted in Lady
+Lendrick having taken advantage of Sir William's illness and confinement
+to house to send for and use his carriage-horses,&mdash;a liberty which he
+resented by a most furious letter, to which the rejoinder begot another
+infinitely more sarcastic,&mdash;the correspondence ending by a printed
+notice which her Ladyship received in an envelope, that the Chief Baron's
+horses would be sold on the ensuing Saturday at Dycer's to the highest
+bidder, his Lordship having no further use for them.
+</p>
+<p>
+Let me own that the old Judge was sincerely sorry when this incident was
+concluded. So long as the contest lasted, while he was penning his epistle
+or waiting for the reply, his excitement rallied and sustained him. He
+used to sit after the despatch of one of his cutting letters calculating
+with himself the terror and consternation it produced, just as the captain
+of a frigate might have waited with eager expectancy that the smoke might
+drift away and show him the shattered spars or the yawning bulwarks of his
+enemy. But when his last missive was returned unopened, and the messenger
+reported that the doctor's carriage was at her Ladyship's door as he came
+away, the Judge collapsed at once, and all the dreariness of his deserted
+condition closed in upon him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Till Sewell returned to-town, Sir William resolved not to proceed farther
+with respect to the registrarship. His plan, long determined upon, was to
+induct him into the office, administer the oaths, and leave him to the
+discharge of the duties. The scandal of displacing an official would, he
+deemed, be too great a hazard for any government to risk. At all events,
+if such a conflict came, it would be a great battle, and with the nation
+for spectators.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The country shall ring with it,&rdquo; was the phrase he kept repeating over
+and over as he strolled through his neglected garden or his leafy
+shrubberies; but as he plodded along, alone and in silence, the dreary
+conviction would sometimes shoot across his mind that he had run his race,
+and that the world had wellnigh forgotten him. &ldquo;In a few days more,&rdquo;
+ sighed he out, &ldquo;it will be over, and I shall be chronicled as the last of
+them.&rdquo; And for a moment it would rally him to recall the glorious names
+with which he claimed companionship, and compare them&mdash;with what
+disparagement!&mdash;with the celebrities of the time.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was strange how bright the lamp of intellect would shine out as the
+wick was fast sinking in the socket. His memory would revive some stormy
+scene in the House, some violent altercation at the Bar, and all the fiery
+eloquence of passion would recur to him, stirring his heart and warming
+his blood, till he half forgot his years, and stood forth, with head erect
+and swelling chest, strong with a sense of power and a whole soul full of
+ambition.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beattie would not let me take my Circuit,&rdquo; would he say. &ldquo;I wish he saw
+me to-day. Decaying powers! I would tell them that the Coliseum is grander
+in its ruin than all their stuccoed plastering in its trim propriety. Had
+he suffered me to go, the grand jury would have heard a charge such as
+men's ears have not listened to since Avonmore! Avon-more! what am I
+saying?&mdash;Yelverton had not half my law, nor a tenth part of my
+eloquence.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+In his self-exaltation he began to investigate whether he was greater as
+an advocate or as prosecutor. How difficult to decide! After all, it was
+in the balance of the powers thus displayed that he was great as a judge.
+He recalled the opinions of the press when he was raised to the bench, and
+triumphantly asked aloud, had he not justified every hope and contradicted
+every fear that was entertained of him? &ldquo;Has my learning made me
+intolerant, or my brilliancy led me into impatience? Has the sense of
+superiority that I possess rendered me less conciliatory? Has my
+'impetuous genius'&mdash;how fond they were of that phrase!&mdash;carried
+me away into boundless indiscretions? and have I, as one critic said, so
+concentrated the attention of the jury on myself that the evidence went
+for nothing and the charge was everything?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was strange how these bursts of inordinate vanity and self-esteem
+appeared to rally and invigorate the old man, redressing, as it were, the
+balance of the world's injustice&mdash;such he felt it&mdash;towards him.
+They were like a miser's hoard, to be counted and re-counted in secret
+with that abiding assurance that he had wealth and riches, however others
+might deem him poor.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was out of these promptings of self-love that he drew the energetic
+powers that sustained him, broken and failing and old as he was.
+</p>
+<p>
+Carried on by his excited thoughts, he strayed away to a little mound, on
+which, under a large weeping-ash, a small bench was placed, from which a
+wide view extended over the surrounding country. There was a tradition of
+a summer-house on the spot in Curran's day, and it was referred to more
+than once in the diaries and letters of his friends; and the old Chief
+loved the place, as sacred to great memories.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had just toiled up the ascent, and gained the top, when a servant came
+to present him with a card and a letter, saying that the gentleman who
+gave them was then at the house. The card bore the name, &ldquo;Captain
+Trafford,&mdash;th Regiment.&rdquo; The letter was of a few lines, and ran thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear Sir William,&mdash;I had promised my friend and late patient
+Captain Trafford to take him over to the Priory this morning and present
+him to you. A sudden call has, however, frustrated the arrangement; and as
+his time is very brief, I have given him this as a credential to your
+acquaintance, and I hope you will permit him to stroll through the garden
+and the shrubberies, which he will accept as a great favor. I especially
+beg that you will lay no burden on your own strength to become his
+entertainer: he will be amply gratified by a sight of your belongings, of
+which he desires to carry the memory beyond seas.&mdash;Believe me very
+sincerely yours,
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;J. Beattie.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the gentleman who brought this will do me the favor to come up here,
+say I shall be happy to see him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+As the servant went on his message, the old man lay back on his seat, and,
+closing his eyes, muttered some few dropping words, implying his
+satisfaction at this act of reverential homage. &ldquo;A young soldier too; it
+speaks well for the service when the men of action revere the men of
+thought. I am glad it is a good day with me; he shall carry away other
+memories than of woods and streams. Ah! here he comes.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Slowly, and somewhat feebly, Trafford ascended the hill, and with a most
+respectful greeting approached the Judge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thank you for your courtesy in coming here, sir,&rdquo; said the Chief; &ldquo;and
+when we have rested a little, I will be your <i>Cicerone</i> back to the
+house.&rdquo; The conversation flowed on pleasantly between them, Sir William
+asking where Traflford had served, and what length of time he had been in
+Ireland,&mdash;his inquiries evidently indicating that he had not heard of
+him before, or, if he had, had forgotten him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now you are going to Malta?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord; we sail on the 12th.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir, Valetta has no view to rival that. See what a noble sweep the
+bay takes here, and mark how well the bold headlands define the limits!
+Look at that stretch of yellow beach, like a golden fillet round the sea;
+and then mark the rich woods waving in leafy luxuriance to the shore!
+Those massive shadows are to landscape what times of silent thought are to
+our moral natures. Do you like your service, sir?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my Lord; there is much in it that I like. I would like it all if it
+were in 'activity.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have much of the soldier in myself, and the qualities by which I have
+gained any distinction I have won are such as make generals,&mdash;quick
+decision, rapid intelligence, prompt action.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Traflford bowed to this pretentions summary, but did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+The old Judge went on to describe what he called the military mind,
+reviewing in turn the generals of note from Hannibal down to Marlborough.
+&ldquo;What have they left us by way of legacy, sir? The game, lost or won,
+teaches us as much! Is not a letter of Cicero, is not an ode of Horace
+worth it all? And as for battle-fields, it is the painter, not the
+warrior, has made them celebrated. Wouvermans has done more for war than
+Turenne!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, my Lord, there must be a large number of men like myself who make
+very tolerable soldiers, but who would turn out sorry poets or poor
+advocates.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give me your arm now, and I will take you round by the fish-pond and show
+you where the 'Monks of the Screw' held their first meeting. You have
+heard of that convivial club?&rdquo; Trafiford bowed; and the Judge went on to
+tell of the strange doings of those grave and thoughtful men, who-deemed
+no absurdity too great in their hours of distraction and levity. When they
+reached the house, the old man was so fatigued that he had to sit down in
+the porch to rest. &ldquo;You have seen all, sir; all I have of memorable. You
+say you 'd like to see the garden, but there is not a memory connected
+with it. See it, however, by all means; saunter about till I have rallied
+a little, and then join me at my early dinner. I 'll send to tell you when
+it is ready. I am sorry it will be such a lonely meal; but she who could
+have thrown sunshine over it is gone&mdash;gone!&rdquo; And he held his hands
+over his face, and said no more. Trafiford moved silently away, and went
+in search of the garden. He soon found the little wicket, and ere many
+minutes was deep in the leafy solitude of the neglected spot. At last he
+came upon the small gate in the laurel hedge, passing through which he
+entered the little flower-garden. Yes, yes; there was no doubting it! This
+was hers! Here were the flowers she tended; here the heavy bells from
+which she emptied the rain-drops; here the tendrils her own hands had
+trained! Oh, force of love, that makes the very ground holy, and gives to
+every leaf and bud an abiding value! He threw himself upon the sward and
+kissed it. There was a little seat under a large ilex&mdash;how often had
+she sat there thinking!&mdash;could it be thinking over the days beside
+the Shannon,&mdash;that delicious night they came back from Holy Island,
+the happiest of all his life? Oh, if he could but believe that she loved
+him! if he could only know that she did not think of him with anger and
+resentment!&mdash;for she might! Who could tell what might have been said
+of his life at the Sewells'? He had made a confidante of one who assumed
+to misunderstand him, and who overwhelmed him with a confession of her own
+misery, and declared she loved him; and this while he lay in a burning
+fever, his head racked with pain, and his mind on the verge of wandering.
+Was there-ever a harder fate than his? That he had forfeited the affection
+of his family, that he had wrecked his worldly fortunes, seemed little in
+his eyes to the danger of being thought ill of by her he loved.
+</p>
+<p>
+His father's last letter to him had been a command to leave the army and
+return home, to live there as became the expectant head of the house. &ldquo;I
+will have your word of honor to abandon this ignoble passion&rdquo;&mdash;so he
+called his love; &ldquo;and in addition, your solemn pledge never to marry an
+Irishwoman.&rdquo; These words were, he well knew, supplied by his mother. It
+had been the incessant burden of her harangues to him during the tedious
+days of his recovery; and even when, on the morning of this very day, she
+had been suddenly recalled to England by a severe attack of illness of her
+husband, her last act before departure was to write a brief note to
+Lionel, declaring that if he should not follow her within a week, she
+would no longer conceive herself bound to maintain his interests against
+those of his more obedient and more affectionate brother.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Won't that help my recovery, doctor?&rdquo; said he, showing the kind and
+generous epistle to Beattie. &ldquo;Are not these the sort of tonic stimulants
+your art envies?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Beattie shook his head in silence, and after a long pause said, &ldquo;Well,
+what was your reply to this?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can you doubt it? Don't you know it; or don't you know <i>me?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perhaps I guess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, but you are certain of it, doctor. The regiment is ordered to Malta,
+and sails on the 12th. I go with them! Holt is a grand old place, and the
+estate is a fine one; I wish my brother every luck with both. Will you do
+me a favor,&mdash;a great favor?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If in my power, you may be certain I will. What is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take me over to the Priory; I want to see it. You can find some pretext
+to present me to the Chief Baron, and obtain his leave to wander through
+the grounds.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I perceive&mdash;I apprehend,&rdquo; said Beattie, slyly. &ldquo;There is no
+difficulty in this. The old Judge cherishes the belief that the spot is
+little short of sacred; he only wonders why men do not come as pilgrims to
+visit it. There is a tradition of Addison having lived there, while
+secretary in Ireland; Curran certainly did; and a greater than either now
+illustrates the locality.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was thus that Trafford came to be there; with what veneration for the
+haunts of genius let the reader picture to himself!
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His Lordship is waiting dinner, sir,&rdquo; said a servant, abruptly, as he sat
+there&mdash;thinking, thinking; and he arose and followed the man to the
+house.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Chief Baron had spent the interval since they parted in preparing for
+the evening's display. To have for his guest a youth so imbued with
+reverence for Irish genius and ability, was no common event. Young
+Englishmen and soldiers, too, were not usually of this stuff; and the
+occasion to make a favorable impression was not to be lost.
+</p>
+<p>
+When he entered the dinner-room, Trafford was struck by seeing that the
+table was laid for three, though they were but two; and that on the napkin
+opposite to where he sat a small bouquet of fresh flowers was placed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My granddaughter's place, sir,&rdquo; said the old Judge, as he caught his eye.
+&ldquo;It is reserved for her return. May it be soon!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+How gentle the old man's voice sounded as he said this, and how kindly his
+eyes beamed! Trafford thought there was something actually attractive in
+his features, and wondered he had not remarked it before.
+</p>
+<p>
+Perhaps on that day when the old Judge well knew how agreeable he was,
+what stores of wit and pleasantry he was pouring forth, his convictions
+assured him that his guest was charmed. It was a very pardonable delusion,&mdash;he
+talked with great brilliancy and vigor. He possessed the gift&mdash;which
+would really seem to be the especial gift of Irishmen of that day&mdash;to
+be a perfect relater. To a story he imparted that slight dash of dramatic
+situation and dialogue that made it lifelike, and yet never retarded the
+interest nor prolonged the catastrophe. Acute as was his wit, his taste
+was fully as conspicuous, never betraying him for an instant, so long as
+his personal vanity could be kept out of view.
+</p>
+<p>
+Trafford's eager and animated attention showed with what pleasure he
+listened; and the Chief, like all men who love to talk and know they talk
+well, talked all the better for the success vouchsafed to him. He even
+arrived at that stage of triumph in which he felt that his guest was no
+common man, and wondered if England really turned out many young fellows
+of this stamp,&mdash;so well read, so just, so sensible, so keenly alive
+to nice distinction, and so unerring in matters of taste.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You were schooled at Rugby, sir, you told me; and Rugby has reason to be
+proud if she can turn out such young men. I am only sorry Oxford should
+not have put the fine edge on so keen an intellect.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Trafford blushed at a compliment he felt to be so unmerited, but the old
+man saw nothing of his confusion,&mdash;he was once again amongst the
+great scenes and actors of his early memories.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope you will spare me another day before you leave Ireland. Do you
+think you could give me Saturday?&rdquo; said the Chief, as his guest arose to
+take leave.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am afraid not, my Lord; we shall be on the march by that day.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Old men have no claim to use the future tense, or I should ask you to
+come and see me when you come back again.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indeed will I. I cannot thank you enough for having asked me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why are there not more young men of that stamp?&rdquo; said the old Judge, as
+he looked after him as he went. &ldquo;Why are they not more generally
+cultivated and endowed as he is? It is long since I have found one more
+congenial to me in every way. I must tell Beattie I like his friend. I
+regret not to see more of him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It was in this strain Sir William ruminated and reflected; pretty much
+like many of us, who never think our critics so just or so appreciative as
+when they applaud ourselves.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLII. NECESSITIES OP STATE
+</h2>
+<p>
+It is, as regards views of life and the world, a somewhat narrowing
+process to live amongst sympathizers; and it may be assumed as an axiom,
+that no people so much minister to a man's littleness as those who pity
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now, when Lady Lendrick separated from Sir William, she carried away with
+her a large following of sympathizers. The Chief Baron was well known; his
+haughty overbearing temper at the bar, his assuming attitude in public
+life, his turn for sarcasm and epigram, had all contributed to raise up
+for him a crowd of enemies; and these, if not individually well disposed
+to Lady Lendrick, could at least look compassionately on one whose
+conjugal fate had been so unfortunate. All <i>her</i> shortcomings were
+lost sight of in presence of <i>his</i> enormities, for the Chief Baron's
+temper was an Aaron's rod of irascibility, which devoured every other; and
+when the verdict was once passed, that &ldquo;no woman could live with him,&rdquo;
+ very few women offered a word in his defence.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is just possible that if it had not been for this weight in the
+opposite scale, Lady Lendrick herself would not have stood so high. Sir
+William's faults, however, were accounted to her for righteousness, and
+she traded on a very pretty capital in consequence. Surrounded by a large
+circle of female friends, she lived in a round of those charitable
+dissipations by which some people amuse themselves; and just as dull
+children learn their English history through a game, and acquire their
+geography through a puzzle, these grown-up children take in their
+Christianity by means of deaf and dumb bazaars, balls for blind
+institutions, and private theatricals for an orphan asylum. This devotion,
+made easy to the lightest disposition, is not, perhaps, a bad theory,&mdash;at
+least, it does not come amiss to an age which likes to attack its gravest
+ills in a playful spirit, to treat consumption with cough lozenges, and
+even moderate the excesses of insanity by soft music. There is another
+good feature, too, in the practice: it furnishes occupation and employment
+to a large floating class which,' for the interest and comfort of society,
+it is far better should be engaged in some pursuit, than left free to the
+indulgence of censorious tastes and critical habits. Lady Lendrick lived a
+sort of monarch amongst these. She was the patroness of this, the
+secretary of that, and the corresponding member of some other society.
+Never was an active intelligence more actively occupied; but she liked it
+all, for she liked power, and, strange as it may seem, there is in a small
+way an exercise of power even in these petty administrations. Loud,
+bustling, overbearing, and meddlesome, she went everywhere, and did
+everything. The only sustaining hope of those she interfered with was that
+she was too capricious to persist in any system of annoyance, and was
+prone to forget to-day the eternal truths she had propounded for reverence
+yesterday.
+</p>
+<p>
+I am not sure that she conciliated&mdash;I am not sure that she would have
+cared for&mdash;much personal attachment; but she had what certainly she
+did like, a large following of very devoted supporters. All her little
+social triumphs&mdash;and occasionally she had such&mdash;were blazoned
+abroad by those people who loved to dwell on the courtly attentions
+bestowed upon their favorite, what distinguished person had taken her
+&ldquo;down&rdquo; to dinner, and the neat compliment that the Viceroy paid her on the
+taste of her &ldquo;tabinet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+It need scarcely be remarked that the backwater of all this admiration for
+Lady Lendrick was a swamping tide of ill-favor for her husband. It would
+have been hard to deny him ability and talent. But what had he made of his
+ability and talent? The best lawyer of the bar was not even Chief-Justice
+of the Queen's Bench. The greatest speaker and scholar of his day was
+unknown, except in the reminiscences of a few men almost as old as
+himself. Was the fault in himself, or was the disqualifying element of his
+nature the fact of being an Irishman? For a number of years the former
+theory satisfied all the phenomena of the case, and the restless,
+impatient disposition&mdash;irritable, uncertain, and almost irresponsible&mdash;seemed
+reason enough to deter the various English officials who came over from
+either seeking the counsels or following the suggestions of the bold Baron
+of the Exchequer. A change, however, had come, in pail; induced by certain
+disparaging articles of the English press as to the comparative ability of
+the two countries; and now it became the fashion to say that had Sir
+William been born on the sunnier side of St. George's Channel, and had his
+triumphs been displayed at Westminster instead of the Four Courts, there
+would have been no limit to the praise of his ability as a lawyer, nor any
+delay in according him the highest honors the Crown could bestow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Men shook their heads, recalled the memorable &ldquo;curse&rdquo; recorded by Swift,
+and said, &ldquo;Of course there is no favor for an Irishman.&rdquo; It is not the
+place nor the time to discuss this matter here. I would only say that a
+good deal of the misconception which prevails upon it is owing to the fact
+that the qualities which win all the suffrages of one country are held
+cheaply enough in the other. Plodding unadorned ability, even of a high
+order, meets little favor in Ireland, while on the other side of the
+Channel Irish quickness is accounted as levity, and the rapid appreciation
+of a question without the detail of long labor and thought, is set down as
+the lucky hit of a lively but very idle intelligence. I will not let
+myself wander away further in this digression, but come back to my story.
+Connected with this theory of Irish depreciation, was the position that
+but for the land of his birth Sir William would have been elevated to the
+peerage.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course it was a subject to admit of various modes of telling, according
+to the tastes, the opportunities, and the prejudices of the tellers. The
+popular version of the story, however, was this: that Sir William declined
+to press a claim that could not have been resisted, on account of the
+peculiarly retiring, unambitious character of him who should be his
+immediate successor. His very profession&mdash;adopted and persisted in,
+in despite of his father's wish&mdash;was a palpable renunciation of all
+desire for hereditary honor. As the old Judge said, &ldquo;The <i>Libro d, Oro</i>
+of nobility is not the Pharmacopoeia;&rdquo; and the thought of a doctor in the
+peerage might have cost &ldquo;Garter&rdquo; a fit of apoplexy.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sir William knew this well,&mdash;no man better; but the very difficulties
+gave all the zest and all the flavor to the pursuit. He lived, too, in the
+hope that some Government official might have bethought him of this
+objection, that he might spring on him, tiger-like, and tear him in
+fragments.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let them but tell me this,&rdquo; muttered he, &ldquo;and I will rip up the whole
+woof, thread by thread, and trace them! The noble duke whose ancestor was
+a Dutch pedler, the illustrious marquess whose great-grandfather was a
+smuggler, will have to look to it. Before this cause be called on I would
+say to them, better to retain me for the Crown! Ay, sirs, such is my
+advice to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+While these thoughts agitated Sir William's mind, the matter of them was
+giving grave and deep preoccupation to the Viceroy. The Cabinet had
+repeatedly pressed upon him the necessity of obtaining the Chief Baron's
+retirement from the bench,&mdash;a measure the more imperative that while
+they wanted to provide for an old adherent, they were equally anxious to
+replace him in the House by an abler and readier debater; for so is it,
+when dulness stops the way, dulness must be promoted,&mdash;just as the
+most tumble-down old hackney-coach must pass on before my Lord's carriage
+can draw up.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pemberton must go up,&rdquo; said the Viceroy. &ldquo;He made a horrid mess of that
+explanation t' other night in the House. His law was laughed at, and his
+logic was worse; he really must go on the bench. Can't you hit upon
+something, Balfour? Can you devise nothing respecting the Chief Baron?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He 'll take nothing but what you won't give him; I hear he insists on the
+peerage.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'd give it, I declare,&mdash;I 'd give it to-morrow. As I told the
+Premier t' other day, Providence always takes care that these law lords
+have rarely successors. They are life peerages and no more; besides, what
+does it matter a man more or less in 'the Lords'? The peer without
+hereditary rank and fortune is like the officer who has been raised from
+the ranks,&mdash;he does not dine at mess oftener than he can help it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Balfour applauded the illustration, and resolved to use it as his own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say again,&rdquo; continued his Excellency, &ldquo;I'd give it, but they won't
+agree with me; they are afraid of the English bar,&mdash;they dread what
+the benchers of Lincoln's Inn would say.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They'd only say it for a week or two,&rdquo; mumbled Balfour.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So I remarked: you'll have discontent, but it will be passing. Some
+newspaper letters will appear, but Themis and Aristides will soon tire,
+and if they should not, the world who reads them will tire; and probably
+the only man who will remember the event three months after will be the
+silversmith who is cresting the covered dishes of the new creation. You
+think you can't go and see him, Balfour?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Impossible, my Lord, after what occurred between us the last time.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't take it in that way. I suspect he 'll not bear any malice.
+Lawyers are not thin-skinned people; they give and take such hard knocks
+that they lose that nice sense of injury other folks are endowed with. I
+think you might go.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd rather not, my Lord,&rdquo; said he, shaking his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Try his wife, then.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They don't live together. I don't know if they're on speaking terms.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So much the better,&mdash;she'll know every chink of his armor, and
+perhaps tell us where he is vulnerable. Wait a moment. There has been some
+talk of a picnic on Dalkey Island. It was to be a mere household affair.
+What if you were to invite her?&mdash;making of course the explanation
+that it was a family party, that no cards had been sent out; in fact, that
+it was to be so close a thing the world was never to hear of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think the bait would be irresistible, particularly when she found out
+that all her own set and dear friends had been passed over.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Charge her to secrecy,&mdash;of course she'll not keep her word.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;May I say we 'll come for her? The great mystery will be so perfectly in
+keeping with one of the household carriages and your Excellency's
+liveries.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Won't that be too strong, Balfour?&rdquo; said the Viceroy, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing is too strong, my Lord, in this country. They take their blunders
+neat as they do their sherry, and I'm sure that this part of the
+arrangement will, in the gossip it will give rise to, be about the best of
+the whole exploit.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take your own way, then; only make no such mistake as you made with the
+husband. No documents, Balfour,&mdash;no documents, I beg;&rdquo; and with this
+warning laughingly given, but by no means so pleasantly taken, his
+Excellency went off and left him.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLIII. MR. BALFOUR'S MISSION
+</h2>
+<p>
+Lady Lendrick was dictating to her secretary, Miss Morse, the Annual
+Report of the &ldquo;Benevolent Ballad-Singers' Aid Society,&rdquo; when her servant
+announced the arrival of Mr. Cholmondely Balfour. She stopped abruptly
+short at a pathetic bit of description,&mdash;&ldquo;The aged minstrel, too old
+for erotic poetry, and yet debarred by the stern rules of a repressive
+policy from the strains of patriotic song,&rdquo;&mdash;for, be it said
+parenthetically, Lady Lendrick affected &ldquo;Irishry&rdquo; to a large extent,&mdash;and,
+dismissing Miss Morse to an adjoining room, she desired the servant to
+introduce Mr. Balfour.
+</p>
+<p>
+Is it fancy, or am I right in supposing that English officials have a
+manner specially assumed for Ireland and the Irish,&mdash;a thing like the
+fur cloak a man wears in Russia, or the snowshoes he puts on in Lapland,
+not intended for other latitudes, but admirably adapted for the locality
+it is made for? I will not insist that this theory of mine is faultless,
+but I appeal to a candid public of my own countrmen if they have not in
+their experience seen what may support it. I do not say it is a bad
+manner,&mdash;a presuming manner,&mdash;a manner of depreciation towards
+these it is used to, or a manner indicative of indifference in him who
+uses it. I simply say that they who employ it keep it as especially for
+Ireland as they keep their macintosh capes for wet weather, and would no
+more think of displaying it in England than they would go to her Majesty's
+levee in a shooting-jacket. Mr. Balfour was not wanting in this manner.
+Indeed, the Administration of which he formed a humble part were all
+proficients in it. It was a something between a mock homage and a very
+jocular familiarity, so that when he arose after a bow, deep and
+reverential enough for the presence of majesty, he lounged over to a chair
+and threw himself down with the ease and unconcern of one perfectly at
+home.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And how is my Lady? and how are the fourscore and one associations for
+turnkeys' widows and dog-stealers' orphans doing? What 's the last new
+thing in benevolence? Do tell me, for I 've won five shillings at loo, and
+want to invest it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean you have drawn your quarter's salary, Mr. Balfour.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, by Jove; they don't pay us so liberally. We have the run of our teeth
+and no more.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You forget your tongue, sir; you are unjust.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, my Lady, you are as quick as Sir William himself; living with that
+great wit has made you positively dangerous.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have not enjoyed over-much of the opportunity you speak of.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I know that; no fault of yours, though. The world is agreed on that
+point. I take it he's about the most impossible man to live with the age
+has yet produced. Sewell has told me such things of him!&mdash;things that
+would be incredible if I had not seen him.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg pardon for interrupting, but of course you have not come to dilate
+on the Chief Baron's defects of temper to his wife.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, only incidentally,&mdash;parenthetically, as one may say,&mdash;just
+as one knocks over a hare when he's out partridge-shooting.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind the hare, then, sir; keep to your partridges.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My partridges! my partridges! which are my partridges? Oh, to be sure! I
+want to talk to you about Sewell. He has told you perhaps how ill we have
+behaved to him,&mdash;grossly, shamefully ill, I call it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has told me that the Government object to his having this appointment,
+but he has not explained on what ground.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Neither can I. Official life has its mysteries, and, hate them as one
+may, they must be respected; he ought n't to have sold out,&mdash;it was
+rank folly to sell out. What could he have in the world better than a
+continued succession of young fellows fresh from home, and knowing
+positively nothing of horse-flesh or billiards?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't understand you, sir,&mdash;that is, I hope I misunderstand you,&rdquo;
+ said she, haughtily.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean simply this, that I'd rather be a lieutenant-colonel with such
+opportunities than I 'd be Chairman of the Great Overland.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Opportunities&mdash;and for what?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;For everything,&mdash;for everything; for game off the balls, on every
+race in the kingdom, and as snug a thing every night over a devilled
+kidney as any man could wish for. Don't look shocked,&mdash;it's all on
+the square; that old hag that was here last week would have given her
+diamond ear-rings to find out something against Sewell, and she could
+n't.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mean Lady Trafford?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I do. She stayed a week here just to blacken his character, and she never
+could get beyond that story of her son and Mrs. Sewell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What story? I never heard of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;A lie, of course, from beginning to end; and it's hard to imagine that
+she herself believed it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what was it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, a trumpery tale of young Trafford having made love to Mrs. Sewell,
+and proposed to run off with her, and Sewell having played a game at
+écarté on it, and lost,&mdash;the whole thing being knocked up by
+Trafford's fall. But you must have heard it! The town talked of nothing
+else for a fortnight.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The town never had the insolence to talk of it to <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a stupid town! If there be anything really that can be said to be
+established in the code of society, it is that you may say anything to
+anybody about their relations. But for such a rule how could conversation
+go on?&mdash;who travels about with his friend's family-tree in his
+pocket? And as to Sewell,&mdash;I suppose I may say it,&mdash;he has not a
+truer friend in the world than myself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She bowed a very stiff acknowledgment of the speech, and he went on: &ldquo;I 'm
+not going to say he gets on well with his wife,&mdash;but who does? Did
+you ever hear of him who did? The fact I take to be this, that every one
+has a certain capital of good-nature and kindliness to trade on, and he
+who expends this abroad can't have so much of it for home consumption;
+that's how your insufferable husbands are such charming fellows for the
+world! Don't you agree with me?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A very chilling smile, that might mean anything, was all her reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was there all the time,&rdquo; continued he, with unabated fluency. &ldquo;I saw
+everything that went on: Sewell's policy was what our people call
+non-intervention; he saw nothing, heard nothing, believed nothing; and I
+will say there 's a great deal of dignity in that line; and when your
+servant comes to wake you in the morning, with the tidings that your wife
+has run away, you have established a right before the world to be
+distracted, injured, overwhelmed, and outraged to any extent you may feel
+disposed to appear.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your thoughts upon morals are, I must say, very edifying, sir.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're always practical, so much I will say. This world is a composite
+sort of thing, with such currents of mixed motives running through it, if
+a man tries to be logical he is sure to make an ass of himself, and one
+learns at last to become as flexible in his opinions and as elastic as the
+great British constitution.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am delighted with your liberality, sir, and charmed with your candor;
+and as you have expressed your opinion so freely upon my husband and my
+son, would it appear too great a favor if I were to ask what you would say
+of myself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That you are charming, Lady Lendrick,&mdash;positively charming,&rdquo; replied
+he, rapturously. &ldquo;That there is not a grace of manner, nor a captivation,
+of which you are not mistress; that you possess that attraction which
+excels all others in its influence; you render all who come within the
+sphere of your fascination so much your slaves that the cold grow
+enthusiastic, the distrustful become credulous, and even the cautious
+reserve of office gives way, and the well-trained private secretary of a
+Viceroy betrays himself into indiscretions that would half ruin an
+aide-de-camp.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I assure you, sir, I never so much as suspected my own powers.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;True as I am here; the simple fact is, I have come to say so.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have come to say so! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+With this he proceeded to explain that her Excellency had deputed him to
+invite Lady Lendrick to join the picnic on the island. &ldquo;It was so
+completely a home party, that, except himself and a few of the household,
+none had even heard of it. None but those really intimate will be there,&rdquo;
+ said he; &ldquo;and for once in our lives we shall be able to discuss our absent
+friends with that charming candor that gives conversation its salt. When
+we had written down all the names, it was her Excellency said, 'I 'd call
+this perfect if I could add one more to the list.' 'I'll swear I know whom
+you mean,' said his Excellency; and he took his pencil and wrote a line on
+a card. 'Am I right?' asked he. She nodded, and said, 'Balfour, go and ask
+her to come. Be sure you explain what the whole thing is, how it was got
+up, and that it must not be talked of.' Of course, do what one will, these
+things do get about. Servants will talk of them, and tradespeople talk of
+them, and we must expect a fair share of ill-nature and malice from that
+outer world which was not included in the civility; but it can't be
+helped. I believe it's one of the conditions of humanity, that to make one
+man happy you may always calculate on making ten others miserable.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+This time Lady Lendrick had something else to think of besides Mr.
+Balfour's ethics, and so she only smiled and said nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope I 'm to bring back a favorable answer,&rdquo; said he, rising to take
+leave. &ldquo;Won't you let me say that we 're to call for you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I really am much flattered. I don't know how to express my grateful sense
+of their Excellencies' recollection of me. It is for Wednesday, you say?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Wednesday. We mean to leave town by two o'clock, and there will be a
+carriage here for you by that hour. Will that suit you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perfectly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am overjoyed at my success. Good-bye till Wednesday, then.&rdquo; He moved
+towards the door, and then stopped. &ldquo;What was it? I surely had something
+else to say. Oh, to be sure, I remember. Tell me, if you can, what are Sir
+William's views about retirement: he is not quite pleased with us just
+now, and we can't well approach him; but we really would wish to meet his
+wishes, if we could manage to come at them.&rdquo; All this he said in a sort of
+careless, easy way, as though it were a matter of little moment, or one
+calling for very slight exercise of skill to set right.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And do you imagine he has taken me into his confidence, Mr. Balfour?&rdquo;
+ asked she, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not formally, perhaps,&mdash;not what we call officially; but he may have
+done so in that more effective way termed 'officiously.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not even that. I could probably make as good a guess about your own
+future intentions as those of the Chief Baron.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have heard him talk of them?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Scores of times.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And in what tone,&mdash;with what drift?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Always as that of one very ill-used, hardly treated, undervalued, and the
+like.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the remedy? What was the remedy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;To make him a peer,&mdash;at least, so his friends say.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But taking that to be impossible, what next?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He becomes 'impossible' also,&rdquo; said she, laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are we to imagine that a man of such intelligence as he possesses cannot
+concede something to circumstances,&mdash;cannot make allowances for the
+exigencies of 'party,'&mdash;cannot, in fact, take any other view of a
+difficulty but the one that must respond to his own will?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I think that is exactly what you are called on to imagine. You are
+to persuade yourself to regard this earth as inhabited by the Chief Baron,
+and some other people not mentioned specifically in the census.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is most unreasonable, then.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course he is; but I wouldn't have you tell him so. You see, Mr.
+Balfour, the Chief imagines all this while that he is maintaining and
+upholding the privileges of the Irish Bar. The burden of his song is,
+'There would have been no objection to my claim had I been the Chief Baron
+of the English Court.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Possibly,&rdquo; murmured Balfour; and then, lower again, &ldquo;Fleas are not&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite true,&rdquo; said she, for her quick ear caught his words,&mdash;&ldquo;quite
+true. Fleas are not lobsters,&mdash;bless their souls! But, as I said
+before, I 'd not remind them of that fact. 'The Fleas' are just sore
+enough upon it already.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Balfour for once felt some confusion. He saw what a slip he had made, and
+now it had damaged his whole negotiation. Nothing but boldness would avail
+now, and he resolved to be bold.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is a thing has been done in England, and I don't see why we might
+not attempt it in the present case. A great lawyer there obtained a
+peerage for his wife&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She burst out into a fit of laughter at this, at once so hearty and so
+natural that at last he could not help joining, and laughing too.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must say, Mr. Balfour,&rdquo; said she, as soon as she could speak,&mdash;&ldquo;I
+must say there is ingenuity in your suggestion. The relations that subsist
+between Sir William and myself are precisely such as to recommend your
+project.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not so sure that they are obstacles to it. I have always heard that
+he had a poor opinion of his son, who was a common-place sort of man that
+studied medicine. It could be no part of the Chief Baron's plan to make
+such a person the head of a house. Now, he likes Sewell, and he dotes on
+that boy,&mdash;the little fellow I saw at the Priory. These are all
+elements in the scheme. Don't you think so?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me ask you one question before I answer yours: Does this thought come
+from yourself alone, or has it any origin in another quarter?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I to be candid?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And are <i>you</i> to be confidential?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In that case,&rdquo; said he, drawing a long breath, as though about to remove
+a perilous weight off his mind, &ldquo;I will tell you frankly, it comes from
+authority. Now, don't ask me more,&mdash;not another question. I have
+already avowed what my instructions most imperatively forbid me to own,&mdash;what,
+in fact, would be ruin to me if it were known that I revealed. What his
+Excellency&mdash;I mean, what the other person said was, 'Ascertain Lady
+Lendrick's wishes on this subject; learn, if you can,&mdash;but, above
+all, without compromising yourself,&mdash;whether she really cares for a
+step in rank; find out, if so, what aid she can or will lend us.' But what
+am I saying? Here am I entering upon the whole detail? What would become
+of me if I did not know I might rely upon you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's worth thinking over,&rdquo; said she, after a pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think it is. It is not every day of our lives such a brilliant
+offer presents itself. All I ask, all I stipulate for, is that you make no
+confidences, ask no advice from any quarter. Think it well over in your
+own mind, but impart it to none, least of all to Sewell.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not to <i>him</i>,&rdquo; said she, resolutely, for she knew well to
+what purposes he would apply the knowledge.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Remember that we want to have the resignation before Parliament meets,&mdash;bear
+that in mind. Time is all-important with us; the rest will follow in due
+course.&rdquo; With this he said &ldquo;Good-bye,&rdquo; and was gone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The rest will follow in due course,&rdquo; said she to herself, repeating his
+last words as he went. &ldquo;With your good leave, Mr. Balfour, the 'rest'
+shall precede the beginning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Was n't it Bolingbroke that said constitutional government never could go
+on without lying,&mdash;audacious lying too? If the old Judge will only
+consent to go, her Ladyship's peerage will admit of a compromise. Such was
+Mr. Balfour's meditation as he stepped into his cab.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLIV. AFTER-DINNER THOUGHTS
+</h2>
+<p>
+Her Majesty's&mdash;th had got their orders for Malta, and some surmised
+for India, though it was not yet known; but all agreed it was hard,&mdash;&ldquo;confoundedly
+hard,&rdquo; they called it. &ldquo;Had n't they had their turn of Inidan service?&mdash;how
+many years had that grim old major passed in the Deccan,&mdash;what weary
+winters had the bronzed bald captain there spent at Rangoon!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+How they inveighed against the national niggardliness that insisted on
+making a small army do the work of a large one! How they scouted the
+popular idea that regiments were treated alike and without favoritism! <i>They</i>
+knew better. They knew that if they had been the Nine Hundred and Ninth,
+or Three Thousand and First, there would have been no thought of sending
+them back to cholera and jungle fever. Some, with a little sly flattery,
+ascribed the order to their efficiency, and declared that they had done
+their work so well at Gonurshabad, the Government selected them at once
+when fresh troubles were threatening; and a few old grumblers, tired of
+service, sick of the Horse Guards,&mdash;not over-enamored of even life,&mdash;agreed
+that it was rank folly to join a regiment where the Lieutenant-Colonel was
+not a man of high connections; as they said, &ldquo;If old Cave there had been a
+Lord George or even an Honorable, we 'd have had ten years more of home
+service.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+With the exception of two or three raw subalterns who had never been out
+of England, and who wanted the glory of pig-sticking and the brevet to
+tell tiger stories, there were gloom and depression everywhere. The
+financially gifted complained that as they had all or nearly all bought
+their commissions, there was no comparison between the treatment
+administered to them and to officers in any foreign army; and such as knew
+geography asked triumphantly whether a Frenchman, who could be only sent
+to Africa, or an Austrian, whose most remote banishment was the &ldquo;Banat,&rdquo;
+ was in the same position as an unfortunate Briton, who could be despatched
+to patrol the North Pole to-day, and to-morrow relieve guard at New
+Zealand? By a unanimous vote it was carried that the English army was the
+worst paid, hardest worked, and most ill-treated service in Europe; but
+the roast-beef played just at the moment, and they went in to dinner.
+</p>
+<p>
+As the last bars of that prandial melody were dying away, two men crossed
+the barrack-yard towards the mess-house. They were in close confabulation,
+and although evidently on their way to dinner, showed by their loitering
+pace how much more engrossed they were by the subject that engaged them
+than by any desire for the pleasures of the table. They were Colonel Cave
+and Sewell.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can scarcely picture to my mind as great a fool as that,&rdquo; said Sewell,
+angrily. &ldquo;Can you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; said Cave, slowly and doubtingly. &ldquo;First of all, I never
+was heir to a large estate; and, secondly, I was never, that I remember,
+in love.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;In love! in fiddlestick. Why, he has not seen the girl this year and
+half; he scarcely knows her. I doubt greatly if she cares a straw for him;
+and for a caprice&mdash;a mere caprice&mdash;to surrender his right to a
+fine fortune and a good position is absolute idiocy; but I tell you more,
+Cave, though worse&mdash;far worse.&rdquo; Here his voice grew harsh and
+grating, as he continued: &ldquo;When I and other men like me played with
+Trafford, we betted with the man who was to inherit Holt. When I asked the
+fellow to my house, and suffered a certain intimacy&mdash;for I never
+liked him&mdash;it was because he represented twelve thousand a year in
+broad acres. I 'd stand a good deal from a man like that, that I 'd soon
+pull another up for,&mdash;eh?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+The interrogative here puzzled Cave, who certainly was not a concurring
+party to the sentiment, and yet did not want to make it matter of
+discussion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We shall be late,&mdash;we've lost our soup already,&rdquo; said he, moving
+more briskly forward.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'd no more have let that fellow take on him, as he did under my roof,
+than I 'd sufifer him to kennel his dogs in my dressing-room. You don't
+know&mdash;you can't know&mdash;how he behaved.&rdquo; These words were spoken
+in passionate warmth, and still there was that in the speaker's manner
+that showed a want of real earnestness; so it certainly seemed to Cave,
+who secretly determined to give no encouragement to further disclosures.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are things,&rdquo; resumed Sewell, &ldquo;that a man can't speak on,&mdash;at
+least, he can only speak of them when they become the talk of the town.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come along, I want my dinner. I'm not sure I have not a guest, besides,
+who does not know any of our fellows. I only remembered him this instant.
+Is n't this Saturday?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One thing I 'll swear,&mdash;he shall pay me every shilling he owes me,
+or he does not sail with the regiment. I 'll stand no nonsense of
+renewals; if he has to sell out for it, he shall book up. You have told
+him, I hope, he has nothing to expect from my forbearance?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We can talk this all over another time. Come along now,&mdash;we 're very
+late.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go on, then, and eat your dinner; leave me to my cigar&mdash;I 've no
+appetite. I 'll drop in when you have dined.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; you shall come too,&mdash;your absence will only make fellows
+talk; they are talking already.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are they? and in what way?&rdquo; asked he, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing seriously, of course,&rdquo; mumbled Cave, for he saw how he had fallen
+into an indiscretion; &ldquo;but you must come, and you must be yourself too.
+It's the only way to meet flying rumors.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come along, then,&rdquo; said Sewell, passing his arm within the other's; and
+they hurried forward without another word being spoken by either.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was evident that Sewell's appearance caused some surprise. There was a
+certain awkward significance in the way men looked at him and at each
+other that implied astonishment at his presence.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I didn't know you were down here,&rdquo; said the old Major, making an
+involuntary explanation of his look of wonderment.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing very remarkable, I take it, that a man is stopping at his own
+house,&rdquo; said Se well, testily. &ldquo;No&mdash;no fish. Get me some mutton,&rdquo;
+ added he to the mess-waiter.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have heard that we 've got our orders,&rdquo; said a captain opposite him.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; Cave told me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I rather like it,&mdash;that is, if it means India,&rdquo; said a very
+young-looking ensign.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sewell put up his eye-glass and looked at the speaker, and then, letting
+it drop, went on with his dinner without a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There 's no man can tell you more about Bengal than Colonel Sewell
+there,&rdquo; said Cave, to some one near him. &ldquo;He served on the staff there,
+and knows every corner of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I did n't, with all my heart. It's a sort of knowledge that costs
+a man pretty dearly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 've always been told India was a capital place,&rdquo; said a gay,
+frank-looking young lieutenant, &ldquo;and that if a man did n't drink, or take
+to high play, he could get on admirably.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor entangle himself with a pretty woman,&rdquo; added another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor raise a smashing loan from the Agra Bank,&rdquo; cried a third.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are the very wisest young gentlemen it has ever been my privilege to
+sit down with,&rdquo; said Sewell, with a grin. &ldquo;Whence could you have gleaned
+all these prudent maxims?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I got mine,&rdquo; said the Lieutenant, &ldquo;from a cousin. Such a good fellow as
+he was! He always tipped me when I was at Sandhurst, but he's past tipping
+any one now.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dead?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I believe it would be better he were; but he was ruined in India,&mdash;'let
+in' on a race, and lost everything, even to his commission.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was his name Stanley?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Stapyleton,&mdash;Frank Stapyleton,&mdash;he was in the Grays.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sewell, what are you drinking?&rdquo; cried Cave, with a loudness that overbore
+the talk around him. &ldquo;I can't see you down there. You 've got amongst the
+youngsters.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am in the midst of all that is agreeable and entertaining,&rdquo; said
+Sewell, with a smile of most malicious meaning. &ldquo;Talk of youngsters,
+indeed! I'd like to hear where you could match them for knowledge of life
+and mankind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+There was certainly nothing in his look or manner as he spoke these words
+that suggested distrust or suspicion to those around him, for they seemed
+overjoyed at his praise, and delighted to hear themselves called men of
+the world. The grim old Major at the opposite side of the table shook his
+head thoughtfully, and muttered some words to himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;They 're a shady lot, I take it,&rdquo; said a young captain to his neighbor,
+&ldquo;those fellows who remain in India, and never come home; either they have
+done something they can't meet in England, or they want to do things in
+India they couldn't do here.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There's great truth in that remark,&rdquo; said Sewell. &ldquo;Captain Neeves, let us
+have a glass of wine together. I have myself seen a great deal to bear out
+your observation.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Neeves colored with pleasure at this approval, and went on: &ldquo;I heard of
+one fellow&mdash;I forget his name&mdash;I never remember names; but he
+had a very pretty wife, and all the fellows used to make up to her, and
+pay her immense attention, and the husband rooked them all at écarté,
+every man of them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a scoundrel!&rdquo; said Sewell, with energy. &ldquo;You ought to have preserved
+the name, if only for a warning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think I can get it, Colonel. I 'll try and obtain it for you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was it Moorcroft?&rdquo; cried one.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Or Massingbred?&rdquo; asked another.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I'll wager a sovereign it was Dudgeon; wasn't it Dudgeon?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+But no; it was none of the three. Still, the suggestions opened a whole
+chapter of biographical details, in which each of these worthies vied with
+the other. No man ever listened to the various anecdotes narrated with a
+more eager interest than Sewell. Now and then, indeed, a slight
+incredulity&mdash;a sort of puzzled astonishment that the world could be
+so very wicked, that there really were such fellows&mdash;would seem to
+distract him; but he listened on, and even occasionally asked an
+explanation of this or of that, to show the extreme attention he
+vouchsafed to the theme.
+</p>
+<p>
+To be sure, their attempts to describe the way some trick was played with
+the cards or the dice, how the horse was &ldquo;nobbled&rdquo; or the match &ldquo;squared,&rdquo;
+ were neither very remarkable for accuracy nor clearness. They had not been
+well &ldquo;briefed,&rdquo; as lawyers say, or they had not mastered their
+instructions. Sewell, however, was no captious critic; he took what he
+got, and was thankful.
+</p>
+<p>
+When they arose from the table, the old Major, dropping behind the line of
+those who lounged into the adjoining room, caught a young officer by the
+arm, and whispered some few words in his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a scrape I 'm in!&rdquo; cried the young fellow as he listened.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think not, this time; but let it be a caution to you how you talk of
+rumors in presence of men who are strangers to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, Major,&rdquo; asked a young captain, coming up hurriedly, &ldquo;isn't that
+Sewell the man of the Agra affair?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I 'd ask him about it, that's all,&rdquo; said the Major, slyly,
+and moved away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I got amongst a capital lot of young fellows at my end of the table&mdash;second
+battalion men, I think,&mdash;who were all new to me, but very agreeable,&rdquo;
+ said Sewell to Cave, as he sipped his coffee.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;You'd like your rubber, Sewell, I know,&rdquo; said Cave; &ldquo;let us see if we
+haven't got some good players.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not to-night,&mdash;thanks,&mdash;I promised my wife to be home early;
+one of the chicks is poorly.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want so much to have a game with Colonel Sewell,&rdquo; said a young fellow.
+&ldquo;They told me up at Delhi that you hadn't your equal at whist or
+billiards.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Sewell's pale face grew flushed; but though he smiled and bowed, it was
+not difficult to see that his manner evinced more irritation than
+pleasure.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say,&rdquo; said another, who sat shuffling the cards by himself at a table,
+&ldquo;who knows that trick about the double ace in picquet? That was the way
+Beresford was rooked at Madras.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must say good-night,&rdquo; said Sewell; &ldquo;it's a long drive to the Nest You
+'ll come over to breakfast some morning before you leave, won't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll do my best. At all events, I 'll pay my respects to Mrs. Sewell;&rdquo;
+ and with a good deal of hand-shaking and some cordial speeches Sewell took
+his leave and retired.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had any one marked the pace at which Sewell drove home that night, black
+and dark as it was, he would have said, &ldquo;There goes one on some errand of
+life or death.&rdquo; There was something of recklessness in the way he pushed
+his strong-boned thoroughbred, urging him up hill and down without check
+or relief, nor slackening rein till he drew up at his own door, the
+panting beast making the buggy tremble with the violent action of his
+respiration. Low muttering to himself, the groom led the beast to the
+stable, and Sewell passed up the stairs to the small drawing-room where
+his wife usually sat.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was reading as he entered; a little table with a tea equipage at her
+side. She did not raise her eyes from her book when he came in; but
+whether his footstep on the stair had its meaning to her quick ears or
+not, a slight flush quivered on her cheek, and her mouth trembled faintly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I give you some tea?&rdquo; asked she, as he threw himself into a seat.
+He made no answer, and she laid down her book, and sat still and silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was your dinner pleasant?&rdquo; said she, after a pause.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How could it be other than pleasant, Madam,&rdquo; said he, fiercely, &ldquo;when
+they talked so much of <i>you?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of <i>me?</i>&mdash;talked of <i>me?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just so; there were a set of young fellows who had just joined from
+another battalion, and who discoursed of you, of your life in India, of
+your voyage home, and lastly of some incidents that were attributed to
+your sojourn here. To me it was perfectly delightful. I had my opinion
+asked over and over again, if I thought that such a levity was so
+perfectly harmless, and such another liberty was the soul of innocence? In
+a word, Madam, I enjoyed the privilege, very rarely accorded to a husband,
+I fancy, to sit in judgment over his own wife, and say what he thought of
+her conduct.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was there no one to tell these gentlemen to whom they were speaking?&rdquo;
+ said she, with a subdued, quiet tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I came in late and took my place amongst men all strangers to me. I
+assure you I profited largely by the incident. It is so seldom one gets
+public opinion in its undiluted form, it 's quite refreshing to taste it
+neat. Of course they were not always correct. I could have set them right
+on many points. They had got a totally wrong version of what they called
+the 'Agra row,' though one of the party said he was Beresford's cousin.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She grasped the table convulsively to steady herself, and in so doing
+threw it down, and the whole tea equipage with it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; continued he, as though responding to this evidence of emotion on
+her part,&mdash;&ldquo;yes; it pushed one's patience pretty hard to be obliged
+to sit under such criticism.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what obliged you, sir? was it fear?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Madam, you have guessed it. I was afraid&mdash;terribly afraid to
+own I was your husband.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+A low faint groan was all she uttered, as she covered her face with her
+hands. &ldquo;I had next,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;to listen to a dispute as to whether
+Trafford had ever seriously offered to run away with you or not. It was
+almost put to the vote. Faith, I believe my casting voice might have
+carried the thing either way if I had only known how to give it.&rdquo; She
+murmured something too low to be heard correctly, but he caught at part of
+it, and said: &ldquo;Well, that was pretty much what I suspected. The debate
+was, however, adjourned; and as Cave called me by my name at the moment,
+the confidences came to an abrupt conclusion. As I foresaw that these
+youngsters, ignorant of life and manners as they were, would be at once
+for making apologetic speeches and such-like, I stole away and came home,
+<i>more domestico</i>, to ruminate over my enjoyments at my own fireside.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust, sir, they were strangers to your own delinquencies. I hope they
+had no unpleasant reminders to give you of yourself.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pardon, Madam. They related several of what you pleasantly call my
+delinquencies, but they only came in as the by-play of the scene where you
+were the great character. We figured as brigands. It was <i>you</i> always
+who stunned the victim; <i>I</i> only rifled his pockets&mdash;fact, I
+assure you. I'm sorry that china is smashed. It was Saxe,&mdash;wasn't
+it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She nodded.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And a present of Trafford's too! What a pity! I declare I believe we
+shall not have a single relic of the dear fellow, except it be a protested
+bill or two.&rdquo; He paused a moment or so, and then said, &ldquo;Do you know, it
+just strikes me that if they saw how ill&mdash;how shamefully you played
+your cards in this Trafford affair, they 'd actually absolve you of all
+the Circe gifts the world ascribes to you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She fixed her eyes steadfastly on him, and as her clasped hands dropped on
+her knees, she leaned forward and said: &ldquo;What do you mean by it? What do
+you want by this? If these men, whose insolent taunts you had not courage
+to arrest or to resent, say truly, whose the fault? Ay, sir, whose the
+fault? Answer me, if you dare, and say, was not my shame incurred to cover
+and conceal <i>yours?</i>&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your tragedy-queen airs have no effect upon me. I 've been too long
+behind the scenes to be frightened by stage thunder. What is past is past.
+You married a gambler; and if you shared his good luck, you oughtn't to
+grumble at partaking his bad fortune. If you had been tired of the yoke, I
+take it you 'd have thrown it behind you many a day ago.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I had not done so, you know well why,&rdquo; said she, fiercely.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The old story, I suppose,&mdash;the dear darlings upstairs. Well, I can't
+discuss what I know nothing about. I can only promise you that such ties
+would never bind <i>me</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ask you once again what you mean by this?&rdquo; cried she, as her lips
+trembled and her pale cheeks shook with agitation. &ldquo;What does it point to?
+What am I to do? What am I to be?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the puzzle,&rdquo; said he, with an insolent levity; &ldquo;and I 'll be shot
+if I can solve it! Sometimes I think we 'd do better to renounce the
+partnership, and try what we could do alone; and sometimes I suspect&mdash;it
+sounds odd, does n't it?&mdash;but I suspect that we need each other.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She had by this time buried her face between her hands, and by the
+convulsive motion of her shoulders, showed she was weeping bitterly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;One thing is certainly clear,&rdquo; said he, rising, and standing with his
+back to the fire,&mdash;&ldquo;if we decide to part company, we have n't the
+means. If either of us would desert the ship, there 's no boat left to do
+it with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She arose feebly from her chair, but sank down again, weak and overcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall I give you my arm?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; send Jane to me,&rdquo; said she, in a voice barely above a whisper.
+</p>
+<p>
+He rang the bell, and said, &ldquo;Tell Jane her mistress wants her;&rdquo; and with
+this he searched for a book on the table, found it, and strolled off to
+his room, humming an air as he went.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045">
+<!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+</p>
+<div style="height: 4em;">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h2>
+CHAPTER XLV. THE TIDELESS SHORES
+</h2>
+<p>
+They who only know the shores of the Mediterranean in the winter months,
+and have but enjoyed the contrast&mdash;and what a contrast!&mdash;between
+our inky skies and rain-charged atmosphere with that glorious expanse of
+blue heaven and that air of exciting elasticity,&mdash;they, I say, can
+still have no conception of the real ecstasy of life in a southern climate
+till they have experienced a summer beside the tideless sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nothing is more striking in these regions than the completeness of the
+change from day to night. It is not alone the rapidity with which darkness
+succeeds,&mdash;and in this our delicious twilight is ever to be
+regretted; what I speak of is the marvellous transition from the world of
+sights and sounds to the world of unbroken silence and dimness. In the day
+the whole air rings with life. The flowers flaunt out their gorgeous
+petals, not timidly or reluctantly, but with the bold confidence of
+admitted beauty. The buds unfold beneath your very eyes, the rivulets sing
+in the clear air, and myriads of insects chirp till the atmosphere seems
+to be charged with vitality. This intense vitality is the striking
+characteristic of the scene; and it is to this that night succeeds, grand,
+solemn, and silent, at first to all seeming in unrelieved blackness, but
+soon to be displayed in a glorious expanse of darkest, deepest blue, with
+stars of surpassing size. To make this change more effective, too, it is
+instantaneous. It was but a moment back, and you were gazing on the
+mountain peaks bathed in an opal lustre, the cicala making the air vibrate
+with his song; a soft sea-breeze was blowing, and stirring the oranges
+amongst the leaves; and now all is dim and silent and breathless, as
+suddenly as though an enchanter's wand had waved and worked the miracle.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a little bay&mdash;rather a cleft in the shore than a bay&mdash;bounded
+by rocks and backed by a steep mountain overgrown with stunted olives,
+stood a small cottage,&mdash;so very small that it looked rather like a
+toy house than a human dwelling, a resemblance added to now as the windows
+lay wide open, and all the interior was a blaze of light from two lamps.
+All was still and silent within; no human being was to be seen, nor was
+there a sign of life about the place; for it was the only dwelling on the
+eastern shore of the island, and that island was Maddalena, off Sardinia.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a little nook among the rocks, close to the sea, sat Tom and Lucy
+Lendrick. They held hands, but were silent; for they had come down into
+the darkness to muse and ponder, and drink in the delicious tranquillity
+of that calm hour. Lucy had now been above a week on the island, and every
+day Tom made progress towards recovery. She knew exactly, and as none
+other knew, what amount of care and nursing he would accept of without
+resistance,&mdash;where companionship would gratify and where oppress him;
+she knew, besides, when to leave him to the full swing of his own wild
+discursive talk, and never to break in upon his moods of silent
+reflection.
+</p>
+<p>
+For upwards of half an hour they had sat thus without a word, when Tom,
+suddenly turning round, and looking towards the cottage, said, &ldquo;Is n't
+this the very sort of thing we used to imagine and wish for long ago,
+Lucy?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was just what was passing through my mind. I was thinking how often we
+longed to have one of the islands on Lough Derg, and to go and live there
+all by ourselves.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;We never dreamed of anything so luxurious as this, though. We knew
+nothing of limes and oranges, Lucy. We never fancied such a starry sky, or
+an air so loaded with perfume. I declare,&rdquo; cried he, with more energy, &ldquo;it
+repays one for all the disappointment, to come and taste the luxury of
+such a night as this.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what is the disappointment you speak of, Tom?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mean about our project-that blessed mine, by which we were to have
+amassed a fortune, and which has only yielded lead enough to shoot
+ourselves with.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I never suspected that,&rdquo; said she, with a sigh.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course you never did; nor am I in a great hurry to tell it even now.
+I'd not whisper it if Sir Brook were on the same island with us. Do you
+know, girl, that he resents a word against the mine as if it was a stain
+upon his own honour. For a while I used to catch up his enthusiasm, and
+think if we only go on steadily, if we simply persist, we are sure to
+succeed in the end. But when week after week rolled over, and not a trace
+of a mineral appeared when the very workmen said we were toiling in vain
+when I felt half-ashamed to meet the jeering questions of the neighbours,
+and used to skulk up to the shaft by the back way,&mdash;he remarked it,
+and said to me one morning, 'I am afraid, Tom, it is your sense of loyalty
+to me that keeps you here, and not your hope of success. Be frank, and
+tell me if this be so.' I blundered out something about my determination
+to share his fate, whatever it might be, and it would have been lucky if I
+had stopped there; but I went on to say that I thought the mine was an
+arrant delusion, and that the sooner we turned our backs on it, and
+addressed our energies to another quarter, the better. 'You think so?'
+said he, looking almost fiercely at me. 'I am certain of it,' said I,
+decisively; for I thought the moment had come when a word of truth could
+do him good service. He went out without speaking, and instead of going to
+Lavanna, where the mine is, he went over to Cagliari, and only came home
+late at night. The next morning, while we were taking our coffee before
+'setting out, he said to me, 'Don't strap on your knapsack to-day. I don't
+mean you should come down into the shaft again.' 'How so?' asked I; 'what
+have I said or done that could offend you?' 'Nothing, my dear boy,' said
+he, laying his hand on my shoulder; 'but I cannot bear you should meet
+this dreary life of toil without the one thing that can lighten its gloom&mdash;Hope.
+I have managed, therefore, to raise a small sum on the mine; for,' said
+he, with a sly laugh, 'there are men in Cagliari who don't take the
+despondent view you have taken of it; and I have written to my old friend
+at the Horse Guards to give you a commission, and you shall go and be a
+soldier.' And leave you here, sir, all alone?' 'Far from alone, lad. I
+have that companion which you tell me never joined <i>you</i>. I have Hope
+with <i>me</i>.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;'Then I'll stay too, sir, and try if he'll not give me his company yet.
+At all events, I shall have <i>yours</i>; and there is nothing I know that
+could recompense me for the loss of it.' It was not very easy to turn him
+from his plan, but I insisted so heartily-for I'd have stayed on now, if
+it were to have entailed a whole life of poverty-that he gave in at last;
+and from that hour to this, not a word of other than agreement has passed
+between us. For my own part, I began to work with a will, and a
+determination that I never felt before; and perhaps I overtaxed my
+strength, for I caught this fever by remaining till the heavy dews began
+to fall, and in this climate it is always a danger.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the mine, Tom&mdash;did it grow better?&rdquo; &ldquo;Not a bit. I verily believe
+we never saw ore from that day. We got upon yellow clay, and lower down
+upon limestone rock, and then upon water; and we are pumping away yet, and
+old Sir Brook is just as much interested by the decrease of the water as
+if he saw a silver floor beneath it. 'We've got eight inches less this
+morning, Tom; we are doing famously now.' I declare to you, Lucy, when I
+saw his fine cheery look and bright honest eye, I thought how far better
+this man's fancies are than the hard facts of other people; and I'd rather
+have his great nature than all the wealth success could bring us.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own dear brother!&rdquo; was all she could say, as she grasped his hand, and
+held it with both her own.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;The worst of all is, that in the infatuation he feels about this mining
+project he forgets everything else. Letters come to him from agents and
+men of business asking for speedy answers; some occasionally come to tell
+that funds upon which he had reckoned to meet certain payments had been
+withdrawn from his banker long sinca When he reads these, he ponders a
+moment, and mutters, 'The old story, I suppose. It is so easy to write
+Brook Fossbrooke;' and then the whole seems to pass out of his mind, and
+he'll say, 'Come along, Tom; we must push matters a little; I'll want some
+coin by the end of the month.'
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;When I grew so weak that I could n't go to the mine, the accounts he used
+to give me daily made me think we must be prospering. He would come back
+every night so cheery and so hopeful, and his eyes would sparkle as he 'd
+tell of a bright vein that they 'd just 'struck.' He owned that the men
+were less sanguine, but what could they know? They had no other teaching
+than the poor experiences of daily labor. If they saw lead or silver, they
+believed in it. To him, however, the signs of the coming ore were enough;
+and then he would open a paper full of dark earth in which a few shining
+particles might be detected, and point them out to me as the germs of
+untold riches. 'These are silver, Tom, every one of them; they are
+oxidized, but still perfectly pure. I 've seen the natives in Ceylon
+washing earth not richer than this;' and the poor fellow would make this
+hopeful tidings the reason for treating me to champagne, which in an
+unlucky moment the doctor said would be good for me, and which Sir Brook
+declared always disagreed with him. But I don't believe it, Lucy,&mdash;I
+don't believe it! I am certain that he suffered many a privation to give
+me luxuries that he would n't share. Shall I tell you the breakfast I saw
+him eating one morning? I had gone to his room to speak to him before he
+started to the mine, and, opening the door gently, I surprised him at his
+breakfast,&mdash;a piece of brown bread and a cup of coffee without milk
+was his meal, to support him till he came home at nightfall. I knew if he
+were aware that I had seen him that it would have given him great
+distress, so I crept quietly back to my bed, and lay down to think of this
+once pampered, flattered gentleman, and how grand the nature must be that
+could hold up uncomplaining and unshaken under such poverty as this. Nor
+is it that he ignores the past, Lucy, or strives to forget it,&mdash;far
+from that. He is full of memories of bygone events and people, but he
+talks of his own part in the grand world he once lived in as one might
+talk of another individual; nor is there the semblance of a regret that
+all this splendor has passed away never to return. He will be here on
+Sunday to pay us a visit, Lucy; and though perhaps you 'll find him sadly
+changed in appearance, you 'll see that his fine nature is the same as
+ever.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And will he persist in this project, Tom, in spite of all failure and in
+defiance of hope?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's the very point I 'm puzzled about. If he decide to go on, so must
+I. I 'll not leave him, whatever come of it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, Tom; that I know you will not do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;His confidence of success is unshaken. It was only t' other night, as we
+sat at a very frugal supper, he said, 'You 'll remember all this, Tom, one
+of these days; and as you sip your Burgundy, you 'll tell your friends how
+jolly we thought ourselves over our little acid wine and an onion.' I did
+not dare to say what was uppermost in my thoughts, that I disbelieved in
+the Burgundy era.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would have been cruel to have done it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He had the habit, he tells me, in his days of palmiest prosperity, of
+going off by himself on foot, and wandering about for weeks, roughing it
+amongst all sorts of people,&mdash;-gypsies, miners, charcoal-burners in
+the German forests, and such-like. He said, without something of this
+sort, he would have grown to believe that all the luxuries he lived
+amongst were <i>bona fide</i> necessities of life. He was afraid too, he
+said, they would become part of him; for his theory is, never let your
+belongings master your own nature.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is great romance in such a man.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! there you have it, Lucy; that's the key to his whole temperament; and
+I 'd not be surprised if he had been crossed in some early love.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would that account for all his capricious ways?&rdquo; said she, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own experiences can tell me nothing; but I have a sister who could
+perhaps help me to an explanation. Eh, Lucy? What think you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She tried to laugh off the theme, but the attempt only half succeeded, and
+she turned away her head to hide her confusion.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tom took her hand between his own, and patted it affectionately.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I want no confessions, my own dear Lucy,&rdquo; said he, gently; &ldquo;but if there
+is anything which, for your own happiness or for my honor, I ought to
+know, you will tell me of it, I am certain.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is nothing,&rdquo; said she, with a faint gasp.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you would tell me if there had been?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+She nodded her head, but did not trust herself to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And grandpapa, Lucy?&rdquo; said he, trying to divert her thoughts from what he
+saw was oppressing her; &ldquo;has he forgiven me yet, or does he still harp on
+about my presumption and self-sufficiency?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is more forgiving than you think, Tom,&rdquo; said she, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am not so sure of that. He wrote me a long letter some time back,&mdash;a
+sort of lecture on the faults and shortcomings of my disposition, in which
+he clearly showed that if I had all the gifts which my own self-confidence
+ascribed to me, and a score more that I never dreamed of, they would go
+for nothing,&mdash;absolutely nothing, so long as they were allied with my
+unparalleled&mdash;no, he did n't call it impudence, but something very
+near it. He told me that men of my stamp were like the people who traded
+on credit, and always cut a sorry figure when their accounts came to be
+audited; and, perhaps to stave off the hour of my bankruptcy, he enclosed
+me fifty pounds.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;So like him!&rdquo; said she, proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose it was. Indeed, as I read his note, I thought I heard him
+talking it. There was an acrid flippancy about it that smacked of his very
+voice.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, Tom, I will not let you say that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I 'll think it all the same, Lucy. His letter brought him back to my mind
+so palpably that I thought I stood there before him on that morning when
+he delivered that memorable discourse on my character after luncheon.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did you reply to him?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I replied,&rdquo; said he, with a dry sententiousness that sounded as
+though he wished the subject to drop.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do tell me what you said. I hope you took it in good part. I am sure you
+could not have shown any resentment at his remarks.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;No; I rather think I showed great forbearance. I simply said, 'My dear
+Lord Chief Baron, I have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, of
+which I accept everything but the enclosure.&mdash;I am, faithfully
+yours.'&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And refused his gift?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course I did. The good counsel without the money, or the last without
+the counsel, would have beeu all very well; but coming together, in what a
+false position the offer placed me! I remember that same day we happened
+to have an unusually meagre dinner, but I drank the old man's health after
+it in some precious bad wine; and Sir Brook, who knew nothing about the
+letter, joined in the toast, and pronounced a very pretty little eulogium
+on his vigor and energy; and thus ended the whole incident.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you only knew him better, Tom! if you knew him as I know him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Tom shrugged his shoulders, and merely said, &ldquo;It was nicely done, though,
+not to tell <i>you</i> about this. There was delicacy in <i>that</i>.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+Lucy went on now to relate all his kind intentions towards Tom when the
+news of his illness arrived,&mdash;how he had conferred with Beattie about
+sending out a doctor, and how, at such a sacrifice to his own daily
+habits, he had agreed that she should come out to Cagliari. &ldquo;And you don't
+know how much this cost him, Master Tom,&rdquo; said she, laughing; &ldquo;for however
+little store you may lay by my company, he prizes it, and prizes it highly
+too, I promise you; and then there was another reason which weighed
+against his letting me come out here,&mdash;he has got some absurd
+prejudice against Sir Brook. I call it absurd, because I have tried to
+find out to what to trace it, and could not; but a chance expression or
+two that fell from Mrs. Sewell leads me to suppose the impression was
+derived from them.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't believe he knows the Sewells. I never heard him speak of them. I
+'ll ask when he comes over here. By the way, how do you like them
+yourself?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I scarcely know. I liked her at first,&mdash;that is, I thought I should
+like her; and I fancied, too, it was her wish that I might&mdash;but&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what? What does this 'but' mean?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It means that she has puzzled me, and my hope of liking her depends on my
+discovering that I have misunderstood her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a riddle, if ever there was one! but I suppose it comes to this,
+that if you have read her aright you do not like her.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish I could show you a letter she wrote me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why can't you?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don't think I can tell you even that, Tom.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a mysterious damsel you have grown! Does this come of your living
+with that great law lord, Lucy? If so, tell him from me he has spoiled you
+sadly. How frank you were long ago!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is true,&rdquo; said she, sighing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;How I wish we could go back to that time, with all its dreaminess and all
+its castle-building. Do you remember, Lu, when we used to set off of a
+morning in the boat on a voyage of discovery, as we called it, and find
+out new islands and new creeks, and give them names?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do I not? Oh, Tom, were we not a thousand times happier then than we knew
+we were?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a bit of a bull, Lucy, but it's true all the same. I know all you
+mean, and I agree with you.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;If we had troubles, what light ones they were!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, that's true. We were not grubbing for lead in those days, and finding
+only quartz; and our poor hearts, Lucy, were whole enough then.&rdquo; He gave a
+half malicious laugh as he said this; but, correcting himself quickly, he
+drew her towards him and said, &ldquo;Don't be angry with me, dear Lu; you know
+of old what a reckless tongue I 've got.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Was that thunder, Tom? There it is again. What is it?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;That's a storm getting up. It's coming from the south'ard. See how the
+drift is flying overhead, and all the while the sea beneath is like a
+mill-pond! Watch the stars now, and you 'll see how, one by one, they will
+drop out, as if extinguished; and mark the little plash&mdash;it is barely
+audible&mdash;that begins upon the beach. There! did you hear that,&mdash;that
+rushing sound like wind through the trees? That's the sea getting up. How
+I wish I was strong enough to stay out here. I 'd like to show you a
+'Levanter,' girl,&mdash;a regular bit of Southern passion, not increasing
+slowly, like a Northern wrath, but bursting out in its full fury in an
+instant. Here it comes!&rdquo; and as he spoke two claps of thunder shook the
+air, followed by a long clattering roll like musketry, and the sea,
+upheaving, surged heavily hither and thither, while the air was still and
+calm; and then, as though let loose from their caverns, the winds swept
+past with a wild shrill whistle that swelled into a perfect roar. The
+whole surface of the sea became at once white, and the wind, sweeping
+across the crests of the waves, carried away a blinding drift that added
+to the darkness. The thunder, too, rolled on unceasingly, and great
+flashes of lightning broke through the blackness, and displayed tall masts
+and spars of ships far out to sea, rocking fearfully, and in the next
+instant lost to sight in the dense darkness.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here comes the rain, and we must run for it,&rdquo; said Tom, as a few heavy
+drops fell. A solemn pause in the storm ensued, and then, as though the
+very sky was rent, the water poured down in cataracts. Laughing merrily,
+they made for the cottage, and though but a few yards off, were drenched
+thoroughly ere they reached it.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;It's going to be a terrific night,&rdquo; said Tom, as he passed from window to
+window, looking to the bars and fastenings. &ldquo;The great heat always brings
+one of the Levant storms, and the fishermen here know it so well that on
+seeing certain signs at sunset they draw up all their boats on shore, and
+even secure the roofs of their cabins with strong spars and stones.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope poor old Nicholas is safe by this time. Could he have reached
+Cagliari by this?&rdquo; said Lucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he is snug enough. The old rogue is sitting at his supper this
+minute, cursing the climate and the wine and the place, and the day he
+came to it.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Tom! I think he bears everything better than I expected.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bears everything better! Why, child, what has he to bear that you and I
+have not to bear? Is there one privation here that falls to his share
+without coming to us?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what would be the value of that good blood you are so proud of, Tom,
+if it would not make us as proof against petty annoyances as against big
+dangers?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;I declare time and place make no change on you. You are the same
+disputatious damsel here that you used to be beside the Shannon. Have I
+not told you scores of times you must never quote what one has once said,
+when it comes in opposition to a present opinion?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;But if I cease to quote you, Tom, whence am I to derive those maxims of
+wisdom I rely upon so implicitly?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take care, young lady,&mdash;take care,&rdquo; said he, shaking his finger at
+her. &ldquo;Every fort has its weak side. If you assail me by the brain, I may
+attack you at the heart! How will it be then, eh?&rdquo; Coloring till her face
+and neck were crimson, she tried to laugh; but though her lips parted, no
+sound came forth, and after a second or two of struggle, she said,
+&ldquo;Good-night,&rdquo; and rushed away.
+</p>
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-night, Lu,&rdquo; cried he after her. &ldquo;Look well to your
+window-fastenings, or you will be blown away before morning.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+<p>
+END OF VOL. I. <br /> <br />
+</p>
+<hr />
+<p>
+<br /> <br />
+</p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sir Brook Fossbrooke, Volume I., by
+Charles James Lever
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+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>