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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/38623-8.txt b/38623-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6ad323c --- /dev/null +++ b/38623-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6467 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Charles Strange Vol. 1 (of 3), by +Mrs. Henry Wood + +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: The Story of Charles Strange Vol. 1 (of 3) + A Novel + +Author: Mrs. Henry Wood + +Release Date: January 20, 2012 [EBook #38623] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE + + A Novel + + BY + + MRS. HENRY WOOD + + AUTHOR OF "EAST LYNNE," ETC. + + IN THREE VOLUMES + + VOL. I. + + LONDON + + RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON + Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen + 1888 + [_All Rights Reserved_] + + + + + CONTENTS OF VOL. I + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. EARLY DAYS 1 + + II. CHANGES 21 + + III. MR. SERJEANT STILLINGFAR 47 + + IV. IN ESSEX STREET 73 + + V. WATTS'S WIFE 95 + + VI. BLANCHE HERIOT 114 + + VII. TRIED AT THE OLD BAILEY 144 + + VIII. THE VINE-COVERED COTTAGE AT PISA 175 + + IX. COMPLICATIONS 194 + + X. THE HOUSE AT MARSHDALE 216 + + XI. THE QUARREL 244 + + XII. MYSTERY 274 + + + + +THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +EARLY DAYS. + + +I, Charles Strange, have called this my own story, and shall myself +tell a portion of it to the reader; not all. + + * * * * * + +May was quickly passing. The drawing-room window of White Littleham +Rectory stood open to the sunshine and the summer air: for the years +of warm springs and long summers had not then left the land. The +incumbent of the parish of White Littleham, in Hampshire, was the +Reverend Eustace Strange. On a sofa, near the window, lay his wife, in +her white dress and yellow silk shawl. A young and lovely lady, with a +sweet countenance; her eyes the colour of blue-bells, her face growing +more transparent day by day, her cheeks too often a fatal hectic; +altogether looking so delicately fragile that the Rector must surely +be blind not to suspect the truth. _She_ suspected it. Nay, she no +longer suspected; she knew. Perhaps it was that he would not do so. + +"Charley!" + +I sat at the end of the room in my little state chair, reading a new +book of fairy tales that papa had given me that morning. He was as +orthodox a divine as ever lived, but not strait-laced, and he liked +children to read fairy tales. At the moment I was deep in a tale +called "Finetta," about a young princess shut up in a high tower. To +me it was enchanting. + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Come to me, dear." + +Leaving the precious book behind me, I crossed the room to the sofa. +My mother raised herself. Holding me to her with one hand, she pushed +with the other the hair from my face and gazed into it. That my face +was very much like hers, I knew. It had been said a hundred times in +my hearing that I had her dark-blue eyes and her soft brown hair and +her well-carved features. + +"My pretty boy," she said caressingly, "I am so sorry! I fear you are +disappointed. I think we might have had them. You were always promised +a birthday party, you know, when you should be seven years old." + +There had been some discussion about it. My mother thought the little +boys and girls might come; but papa and Leah said, "No--it would +fatigue her." + +"I don't mind a bit, mamma," I answered. "I have my book, and it is so +pretty. They can come next year, you know, when you are well again." + +She sighed deeply. Getting up from the sofa, she took up two books +that were on the stand behind her, and sat down again. Early in the +spring some illness had seized her that I did not understand. She +ought to have been well again by this time, but was not so. She left +her room and came downstairs, and saw friends when they called: but +instead of growing stronger she grew weaker. + +"She was never robust, and it has been too much for her," I overheard +Leah say to one of the other servants, in allusion to the illness. + +"What if I should not be here at your next birthday, Charley?" she +asked sadly, holding me to her side as she sat. + +"But where should you be, mamma?" + +"Well, my child, I think--sometimes I think--that by that time I may +be in heaven." + +I felt suddenly seized with a sort of shivering. I neither spoke nor +cried; at seven years old many a child only imperfectly realizes the +full meaning of anything like this. My eyes became misty. + +"Don't cry, Charley. All that God does must be for the best, you know: +and heaven is a better world than this." + +"Oh, mamma, you must get well; you must!" I cried, words and tears +bursting forth together. "Won't you come out, and grow strong in the +sunshine? See how warm and bright it is! Look at the flowers in the +grass!" + +"Ay, dear; it is all very bright and warm and beautiful," she said, +looking across the garden to the field beyond it. "The grass is +growing long, and the buttercups and cowslips and blue-bells are all +there. Soon they will be cut down and the field will be bare. Next +year the grass and the flowers will spring up again, Charlie: but we, +once we are taken, will spring up no more in this world: only in +heaven." + +"But don't you think you _will_ get well, mamma? Can't you _try_ to?" + +"Well, dear--yes, I will try to do so. I _have_ tried. I am trying +every day, Charley, for I should not like to go away and leave my +little boy." + +With a long sigh, that it seemed to me I often heard from her now, she +lay for a moment with her head on the back of the sofa and closed her +eyes. Then she sat forward again, and took up one of the books. + +"I meant to give you a little book to-day, Charley, as well as papa. +Look, it is called 'Sintram.' A lady gave it me when I was twelve +years old; and I have always liked it. You are too young to understand +it yet, but you will do so later." + +"Here's some poetry!" I cried, turning the leaves over. The +pleasure of the gift had chased away my tears. Young minds are +impressionable--and had she not just said she would try to get well? + +"I will repeat it to you, Charley," she answered. "Listen." + +"Repeat it?" I interrupted. "Do you know it by heart?--all?" + +"Yes, all; every line of it. + + "'When death is drawing near, + And thy heart sinks with fear, + And thy limbs fail, + Then raise thy hands and pray + To Him who cheers the way, + Through the dark vale. + + "'See'st thou the eastern dawn? + Hear'st thou, in the red morn, + The angels' song? + Oh! lift thy drooping head, + Thou who in gloom and dread + Hast lain so long. + + "'Death comes to set thee free; + Oh! meet him cheerily, + As thy true friend; + And all thy fears shall cease, + And in eternal peace + Thy penance end.' + +You see, Charley, death comes not as a foe, but as a friend to those +who have learnt to look for him, for he is sent by God," she continued +in a loving voice as she smoothed back my hair with her gentle hand. +"I want you to learn this bit of poetry by heart, and to say it +sometimes to yourself in future years. And--and--should mamma have +gone away, then it will be pleasant to you to remember that the +angels' song came to cheer her--as I know it will come--when she was +setting out on her journey. Oh! very pleasant! and the same song and +the same angel will cheer your departure, my darling child, when the +appointed hour for it shall come to you." + +"Shall we _see_ the angel?" + +"Well--yes--with the eye of faith. And it is said that some good +people have really seen him; have seen the radiant messenger who has +come to take them to the eternal shores. You will learn it, Charley, +won't you--and never forget it?" + +"I'll learn it all, every verse; and I will never forget it, mamma." + +"I am going to give you this book, also, Charley," she went on, +bringing forward the other. "You----" + +"Why, that's your Bible, mamma!" + +"Yes, dear, it is my Bible; but I should like it to be yours. And I +hope it will be as good a friend to you as it is now to me. I shall +still use it myself, Charley, for a little while. You will lend it me, +won't you? and later, it will be all your own." + +"Shall you buy another for yourself, then?" + +She did not answer. Her face was turned to the window; her yearning +eyes were fixed in thought upon the blue sky; her hot hands were +holding mine. In a moment, to my consternation, she bent her face upon +mine and burst into a flood of tears. What I should have said or done, +I know not; but at that moment my father came swiftly out of his +study, into the room. He was a rather tall man with a pale, grave +face, very much older than his wife. + +"Do you chance to remember, Lucy, where that catalogue of books was +put that came last week? I want----" + +Thus far had he spoken, when he saw the state of things; both crying +together. He broke off in vexation. + +"How can you be so silly, Lucy--so imprudent! I will not have it. You +don't allow yourself a chance to get well--giving way to these low +spirits! What is the matter?" + +"It is nothing," she replied, with another of those long sighs. "I was +talking a little to Charley, and a fit of crying came on. It has not +harmed me, Eustace." + +"Charley, boy, I saw some fresh sweet violets down in the dingle this +morning. Go you and pick some for mamma," he said. "Never mind your +hat: it is as warm as midsummer." + +I was ready for the dingle, which was only across the field, and to +pick violets at any time, and I ran out. Leah Williams was coming in +at the garden gate. + +"Now, Master Charles! Where are you off to? And without your hat!" + +"I'm going to the dingle, to get some fresh violets for mamma. Papa +said my hat did not matter." + +"Oh," said Leah, glancing doubtfully at the window. I glanced too. He +had sat down on the sofa by mamma then, and was talking to her +earnestly, his head bent. She had her handkerchief up to her face. +Leah attacked me again. + +"You've been crying, you naughty boy! Your eyes are wet still. What +was that for?" + +I did not say what: though I had much ado to keep the tears from +falling. "Leah," I whispered, "do you think mamma will get well?" + +"Bless the child!" she exclaimed, after a pause, during which she had +looked again at the window and back at me. "Why, what's to hinder +it?--with all this fine, beautiful warm weather! Don't you turn +fanciful, Master Charley, there's a darling! And when you've picked +the violets, you come to me; I'll find a slice of cake for you." + +Leah had been with us about two years, as upper servant, attending +upon mamma and me, and doing the sewing. She was between twenty and +thirty then, an upright, superior young woman, kind in the main, +though with rather a hard face, and faithful as the day. The other +servants called her Mrs. Williams, for she had been married and was a +widow. Not tall, she yet looked so, she was so remarkably thin. Her +gray eyes were deep-set, her curls were black, and she had a high, +fresh colour. Everyone, gentle and simple, wore curls at that time. + +The violets were there in the dingle, sure enough; both blue and +white. I picked a handful, ran in with them, and put them on my +mother's lap. The Rector was sitting by her still, but he got up then. + +"Oh, Charley, they are very sweet," she said with a smile--"very sweet +and lovely. Thank you, my precious boy, my darling." + +She kissed me a hundred times. She might have kissed me a hundred +more, but papa drew me away. + +"Do not tire yourself any more to-day, Lucy; it is not good for you. +Charley, boy, you can take your fairy tales and show them to Leah." + + * * * * * + +The day of the funeral will never fade from my memory; and yet I can +only recall some of its incidents. What impressed me most was that +papa did not stand at the grave in his surplice reading the service, +as I had seen him do at other funerals. Another clergyman was in his +place, and he stood by me in silence, holding my hand. And he told me, +after we returned home, that mamma was not herself in the cold dark +grave, but a happy angel in heaven looking down upon me. + +And so the time went on. Papa was more grave than of yore, and taught +me my lessons daily. Leah indulged and scolded me alternately, often +sang to me, for she had a clear voice, and when she was in a good +humour would let me read "Sintram" and the fairy tales to her. + +The interest of mamma's money--which was now mine--brought in three +hundred a year. She had enjoyed it all; I was to have (or, rather, my +father for me) just as much of it as the two trustees chose to allow, +for it was strictly tied up in their hands. When I was twenty-four +years of age--not before--the duties of the trustees would cease, and +the whole sum, six thousand pounds, would come into my uncontrolled +possession. One of the trustees was my mother's uncle, Mr. Serjeant +Stillingfar; the other I did not know. Of course the reader will +understand that I do not explain these matters from my knowledge at +that time; but from what I learnt when I was older. + + * * * * * + +Nearly a year had gone by, and it was warm spring weather again. I sat +in my brown-holland dress in the dingle amidst the wild flowers. A lot +of cowslips lay about me; I had been picking the flowers from the +stalks to make into a ball. The sunlight flickered through the trees, +still in their tender green; the sky was blue and cloudless. My straw +hat, with broad black ribbons, had fallen off; my white socks and +shoes were stretched out before me. Fashion is always in extremes. +Then it was the custom to dress a child simply up to quite an +advanced age. + +Why it should have been so, I know not; but while I sat, there came +over me a sudden remembrance of the day when I had come to the dingle +to pick those violets for mamma, and a rush of tears came on. Leah +took good care of me, but she was not my mother. My father was good, +and grave, and kind, but he did not give me the love that she had +given. A mother's love would never be mine again, and I knew it; and +in that moment was bitterly feeling it. + +One end of the string was held between my teeth, the other end in my +left hand, and my eyes were wet with tears. I strung the cowslips as +well as I could. But it was not easy, and I made little progress. + +"S'all I hold it for oo?" + +Lifting my eyes in surprise--for I had thought the movement in the +dingle was only Leah, coming to see after me--there stood the sweetest +fairy of a child before me. The sleeves of her cotton frock and white +pinafore were tied up with black ribbons; her face was delicately +fair, her eyes were blue as the sky, and her light curls fell low on +her pretty neck. My child heart went out to her with a bound, then and +there. + +"What oo trying for, 'ittle boy?" + +"I was crying for mamma. She's gone away from me to heaven." + +"S'all I tiss oo?" + +And she put her little arms round my neck, without waiting for +permission, and gave me a dozen kisses. + +"Now we make the ball, 'ittle boy. S'all oo dive it to me?" + +"Yes, I will give it to you. What is your name?" + +"Baby. What is oors?" + +"Charles. Do you----" + +"You little toad of a monkey!--giving me this hunt! How came you to +run away?" + +The words were spoken by a tall, handsome boy, quite old compared with +me, who had come dashing through the dingle. He caught up the child +and began kissing her fondly. So the words were not meant to hurt her. + +"It was oo ran away, Tom." + +"But I ordered you to stop where I left you--and to sit still till I +came back again. If you run away by yourself in the wood, you'll meet +a great bear some day and he'll eat you up. Mind that, Miss Blanche. +The mamsie is in a fine way; thinks you're lost, you silly little +thing." + +"Dat 'towslip ball for me, Tom." + +Master Tom condescended to turn his attention upon me and the ball. I +guessed now who they were: a family named Heriot, who had recently +come to live at the pretty white cottage on the other side the copse. +Tom was looking at me with his fine dark eyes. + +"You are the parson's son, I take it, youngster. I saw you in the +parson's pew on Sunday with an old woman." + +"She is not an old woman," I said, jealous for Leah. + +"A young one, then. What's your name?" + +"Charles Strange." + +"He dot no mamma, he try for her," put in the child. "Oo come to my +mamma, ittle boy; she love oo and tiss oo." + +"When I have made your ball." + +"Oh, bother the ball!" put in Tom. "We can't wait for that: the +mamsie's in a rare way already. You can come home with us if you like, +youngster, and finish your ball afterwards." + +Leaving the cowslips, I caught up my hat and we started, Tom carrying +the child. I was a timid, sensitive little fellow, but took courage to +ask him a question. + +"Is your name Tom Heriot?" + +"Well, yes, it _is_ Tom Heriot--if it does you any good to know it. +And this is Miss Blanche Heriot. And I wish you were a bit bigger and +older; I'd make you my playfellow." + +We were through the copse in a minute or two and in sight of the white +cottage, over the field beyond it. Mrs. Heriot stood at the garden +gate, looking out. She was a pretty little plump woman, with a soft +voice, and wore a widow's cap. A servant in a check apron was with +her, and knew me. Mrs. Heriot scolded Blanche for running away from +Tom while she caressed her, and turned to smile at me. + +"It is little Master Strange," I heard the maid say to her. "He lost +his mother a year ago." + +"Oh, poor little fellow!" sighed Mrs. Heriot, as she held me before +her and kissed me twice. "What a nice little lad it is!--what lovely +eyes! My dear, you can come here whenever you like, and play with Tom +and Blanche." + +Some few years before, this lady had married Colonel Heriot, a widower +with one little boy--Thomas. After that, Blanche was born: so that she +and Tom were, you see, only half-brother-and sister. When Blanche was +two years old--she was three now--Colonel Heriot died, and Mrs. Heriot +had come into the country to economize. She was not at all well off; +had, indeed, little beyond what was allowed her with the two children: +all their father's fortune had lapsed to them, and she had no control +over it. Tom had more than Blanche, and was to be brought up for a +soldier. + +As we stood in a group outside the gate, papa came by. Seeing me, he +naturally stopped, took off his hat to Mrs. Heriot, and spoke. That is +how the acquaintanceship began, without formal introduction on either +side. Taking the pretty little girl in his arms, he began talking to +her: for he was very fond of children. Mrs. Heriot said something to +him in a low, feeling tone about his wife's death. + +"Yes," he sighed in answer, as he put down the child: "I shall never +recover her loss. I live only in the hope of rejoining her THERE." + +He glanced up at the blue sky: the pure, calm, peaceful canopy of +heaven. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +CHANGES. + + +"I shall never recover her loss. I live only in the hope of rejoining +her THERE." + +It has been said that the vows of lovers are ephemeral as characters +written on the sand of the sea-shore. Surely may this also be said of +the regrets mourners give to the departed! For time has a habit of +soothing the deepest sorrow; and the remembrance which is piercing our +hearts so poignantly to-day in a few short months will have lost its +sting. + +My father was quite sincere when speaking the above words: meant and +believed them to the very letter. Yet before the spring and summer +flowers had given place to those of autumn, he had taken unto himself +another wife: Mrs. Heriot. + +The first intimation of what was in contemplation came to me from +Leah. I had offended her one day; done something wrong, or not done +something right; and she fell upon me with a stern reproach, +especially accusing me of ingratitude. + +"After all my care of you, Master Charles--my anxiety and trouble to +keep your clothes nice and make you good! What shall you do when I +have gone away?" + +"But you are not going away, Leah." + +"I don't know that. We are to have changes here, it seems, and I'm not +sure that they will suit me." + +"What changes?" I asked. + +She sat at the nursery window, which had the same aspect as the +drawing-room below, darning my socks; I knelt on a chair, looking out. +It was a rainy day, and the drops pattered thickly against the panes. + +"Well, there's going to be--some company in the house," said Leah, +taking her own time to answer me. "A _lot_ of them. And I think +perhaps there'll be no room for me." + +"Oh, yes there will. Who is it, Leah?" + +"I shouldn't wonder but it's those people over yonder," pointing her +long darning-needle in the direction of the dingle. + +"There's nothing there but mosses and trees, Leah. No people." + +"There _is_ a little farther off," nodded Leah. "There's Mrs. Heriot +and her two children." + +"Oh, do you say they are coming here!--do you mean it?" I cried in +ecstasy. "Are they coming for a long visit, Leah?--to have breakfast +here, and dine and sleep? Oh, how glad I am!" + +"Ah!" groaned Leah; "perhaps you may be glad just at first; you are +but a little shallow-sensed boy, Charley: but it may turn out for +better, or it may turn out for worse." + +To my intense astonishment, she dropped her work, burst into tears, +and threw her hands up to her face. I felt very uncomfortable. + +"What is it, Leah?" + +"Well, it is that I'm a silly," she answered, looking up and drying +her eyes. "I got thinking of the past, Master Charley, of your dear +mamma, and all that. It _is_ solitary for you here, and perhaps you'll +be happier with some playfellows." + +I went on staring at her. + +"And look here, Master Charles, don't repeat what I've said; not to +anybody, mind; or perhaps they won't come at all," concluded Leah, +administering a slight shaking by way of enforcing her command. + +There came a day--it was in that same week--when everything seemed to +go wrong, as far as I was concerned. I had been at warfare with Leah +in the morning, and was so inattentive (I suppose) at lessons in the +afternoon that papa scolded me, and gave me an extra Latin exercise to +do when they were over, and shut me up in the study until it was +done. Then Leah refused jam for tea, which I wanted; saying that jam +was meant for good boys, not for naughty ones. Altogether I was in +anything but an enviable mood when I went out later into the garden. +The most cruel item in the whole was that I could not see _I_ had been +to blame, but thought everyone else was. The sun had set behind the +trees of the dingle in a red ball of fire as I climbed into my +favourite seat--the fork of the pear-tree. Papa had gone to attend a +vestry meeting; the little bell of the church was tinkling out, giving +notice of the meeting to the parish. + +Presently the bell ceased; solitary silence ensued both to eye and +ear. The brightness of the atmosphere was giving place to the shades +of approaching evening; the trees were putting on their melancholy. I +have always thought--I always shall think--that nothing can be more +depressing than the indescribable melancholy which trees in a +solitary spot seem to put on after sunset. All people do not feel +this; but to those who, like myself, see it, it brings a sensation of +loneliness, nay, of _awe_, that is strangely painful. + +"Ho-ho! So you are up there again, young Charley!" + +The garden-gate had swung back to admit Tom Heriot. In hastening down +from the tree--for he had a way of tormenting me when in it--I somehow +lost my balance and fell on to the grass. Tom shrieked out with +laughter, and made off again. + +The fall was nothing--though my ankle ached; but at these untoward +moments a little smart causes a great pain. It seemed to me that I was +smarting all over, inside and out, mentally and bodily; and I sat down +on the bench near the bed of shrubs, and burst into tears. + +Sweet shrubs were they. Lavender and rosemary, old-man and +sweet-briar, marjoram and lemon-thyme, musk and verbena; and others, +no doubt. Mamma had had them all planted there. She would sit with me +where I was now sitting alone, under the syringa trees, and revel in +the perfume. In spring-time those sweet syringa blossoms would +surround us; she loved their scent better than any other. Bitterly I +cried, thinking of all this, and of her. + +Again the gate opened, more gently this time, and Mrs. Heriot came in +looking round. "Thomas," she called out--and then she saw me. +"Charley, dear, has Tom been here? He ran away from me.--Why, my dear +little boy, what is the matter?" For she had seen the tears falling. + +They fell faster than ever at the question. She came up, sat down on +the bench, and drew my face lovingly to her. I thought then--I think +still--that Mrs. Heriot was one of the kindest, gentlest women that +ever breathed. I don't believe she ever in her whole life said a sharp +word to anyone. + +Not liking to tell of my naughtiness--which I still attributed to +others--or of the ignominious fall from the pear-tree, I sobbed forth +something about mamma. + +"If she had not gone away and left me alone," I said, "I should never +have been unhappy, or--or cried. People were not cross with me when +she was here." + +"My darling, I know how lonely it is for you. Would you like me to +come here and be your mamma?" she caressingly whispered. + +"You could not be that," I dissented. "Mamma's up there." + +Mrs. Heriot glanced up at the evening sky. "Yes, Charley, she is up +there, with God; and she looks down, I feel sure, at you, and at what +is being done for you. If I came home here I should try to take care +of you as she would have done. And oh, my child, I should love you +dearly." + +"In her place?" I asked, feeling puzzled. + +"In her place, Charley. _For her._" + +Tom burst in at the gate again. He began telling his stepmother of my +fall as he danced a war-dance on the grass, and asked me how many of +my legs and wings were broken. + + * * * * * + +They came to the Rectory: Mrs. Heriot--she was Mrs. Strange then--and +Tom and Baby. After all, Leah did not leave. She grew reconciled to +the new state of things in no time, and became as fond of the children +as she was of me. As fond, at least, of Tom. I don't know that she +ever cared heartily for Blanche: the little lady had a haughty face, +and sometimes a haughty way with her. + +We were all as happy as the day was long. Mrs. Strange indulged us +all. Tom was a dreadful pickle--it was what the servants called him; +but they all adored him. He was a handsome, generous, reckless boy, +two years older than myself in years, twice two in height and +advancement. He teased Leah's life out of her; but the more he teased, +the better she liked him. He teased Blanche, he teased me; though he +would have gone through fire and water for either of us, ay, and laid +down his life any moment to save ours. He was everlastingly in +mischief indoors or out. He called papa "sir" to his face, "the +parson" or "his reverence" behind his back. There was no taming Tom +Heriot. + +For a short time papa took Tom's lessons with mine. But he found it +would not answer. Tom's guardians wrote to beg of the Rector to +continue to undertake him for a year or two, offering a handsome +recompense in return. But my father wrote word back that the lad +needed the discipline of school and must have it. So to school Tom was +sent. He came home in the holidays, reckless and random, generous and +loving as ever, and we had fine times together, the three of us +growing up like brothers and sister. Of course, I was not related to +them at all: and they were only half related to each other. + +Rather singularly, Thomas Heriot's fortune was just as much as mine: +six thousand pounds: and left in very much the same way. The +interest, three hundred a year, was to maintain and educate him for +the army; and he would come into the whole when he was twenty-one. +Blanche had less: four thousand pounds only, and it was secured in the +same way as Tom's was until she should be twenty-one, or until she +married. + +And thus about a couple of years went on. + + * * * * * + +No household was ever less given to superstition than ours at White +Littleham Rectory. It never as much as entered the mind of any of its +inmates, from its master downwards. And perhaps it was this complete +indifference to and disbelief in the supernatural that caused the +matter to be openly spoken of by the Rector. I have since thought so. + +It was Christmas-tide, and Christmas weather. Frost and snow covered +the ground. Icicles on the branches glittered in the sunshine like +diamonds. + +"It is the jolliest day!" exclaimed Tom, dashing into the +breakfast-room from an early morning run half over the parish. +"People are slipping about like mad, and the ice is inches thick on +the ponds. Old Joe Styles went right down on his back." + +"I hope he was not hurt, Tom," remarked papa, coming down from his +chamber into the room in time to hear the last sentence. +"Good-morning, my boys." + +"Oh, it was only a Christmas gambol, sir," said Tom carelessly. + +We sat down to breakfast. Leah came in to see to me and Tom. The +Rector might be--and was--efficient in his parish and pulpit, but a +more hopelessly incapable man in a domestic point of view the world +never saw. Tom and I should have come badly off had we relied upon him +to help us, and we might have gobbled up every earthly thing on the +table without his saying yea or nay. Leah, knowing this, stood to pour +out the coffee. Mrs. Strange had gone away to London on Wednesday (the +day after Christmas Day) to see an old aunt who was ill, and had taken +Blanche with her. This was Friday, and they were expected home again +on the morrow. + +Presently Tom, who was observant in his way, remarked that papa was +taking nothing. His coffee stood before him untouched; some bacon lay +neglected on his plate. + +"Shall I cut you some thin bread and butter, sir?" asked Leah. + +"Presently," said he, and went on doing nothing as before. + +"What are you thinking of, papa?" + +"Well, Charley, I--I was thinking of my dream," he answered. "I +suppose it _was_ a dream," he went on, as if to himself. "But it was a +curious one." + +"Oh, please tell it us!" I cried. "I dreamt on Christmas night that I +had a splendid plum-cake, and was cutting it up into slices." + +"Well--it was towards morning," he said, still speaking in a dreamy +sort of way, his eyes looking straight out before him as if he were +recalling it, yet evidently seeing nothing. "I awoke suddenly with the +sound of a voice in my ear. It was your mamma's voice, Charley; your +own mother's; and she seemed to be standing at my bedside. 'I am +coming for you,' she said to me--or seemed to say. I was wide awake in +a moment, and knew her voice perfectly. Curious, was it not, Leah?" + +Leah, cutting bread and butter for Tom, had halted, loaf in one hand, +knife in the other. + +"Yes, sir," she answered, gazing at the Rector. "Did you _see_ +anything, sir?" + +"No; not exactly," he returned. "I was conscious that whoever spoke to +me, stood close to my bedside; and I was also conscious that the +figure retreated across the room towards the window. I cannot say that +I absolutely saw the movement; it was more like some unseen presence +in the room. It was very odd. Somehow I can't get it out of my +head---- Why, here's Mr. Penthorn!" he broke off to say. + +Mr. Penthorn had opened the gate, and was walking briskly up the path. +He was our doctor; a gray-haired man, active and lively, and very +friendly with us all. He had looked in, in passing back to the +village, to tell the Rector that a parishioner, to whom he had been +called up in the night, was in danger. + +"I'll go and see her," said papa. "You'd be none the worse for a cup +of coffee, Penthorn. It is sharp weather." + +"Well, perhaps I shouldn't," said he, sitting down by me, while Tom +went off to the kitchen for a cup and saucer. "Sharp enough--but +seasonable. Is anything amiss with you, Leah? Indigestion again?" + +This caused us to look at Leah. She was whiter than the table-cloth. + +"No, sir; I'm all right," answered Leah, as she took the cup from +Tom's hand and began to fill it with coffee and hot milk. "Something +that the master has been telling us scared me a bit at the moment, +that's all." + +"And what was that?" asked the Doctor lightly. + +So the story had to be gone over again, papa repeating it rather more +elaborately. Mr. Penthorn was sceptical, and said it was a dream. + +"I have just called it a dream," assented my father. "But, in one +sense, it was certainly not a dream. I had not been dreaming at all, +to my knowledge; have not the least recollection of doing so. I woke +up fully in a moment, with the voice ringing in my ears." + +"The voice must have been pure fancy," declared Mr. Penthorn. + +"That it certainly was not," said the Rector. "I never heard a voice +more plainly in my life; every tone, every word was distinct and +clear. No, Penthorn; that someone spoke to me is certain; the puzzle +is--who was it?" + +"Someone must have got into your room, then," said the Doctor, +throwing his eyes suspiciously across the table at Tom. + +Leah turned sharply round to face Tom. "Master Tom, if you played +this trick, say so," she cried, her voice trembling. + +"I! that's good!" retorted Tom, as earnestly as he could speak. "I +never got out of bed from the time I got into it. Wasn't likely to. I +never woke up at all." + +"It was not Tom," interposed papa. "How could Tom assume my late +wife's voice? It _was_ her voice, Penthorn. I had never heard it since +she left us; and it has brought back all its familiar tones to my +memory." + +The Doctor helped himself to some bread and butter, and gave his head +a shake. + +"Besides," resumed the Rector, "no one else ever addressed me as she +did--'Eustace.' I have not been called Eustace since my mother died, +many years ago, except by her. My present wife has never called me by +it." + +That was true. Mrs. Strange had a pet name for him, and it was +"Hubby." + +"'I am coming for you, Eustace,' said the voice. It was her voice; her +way of speaking. I can't account for it at all, Penthorn. I can't get +it out of my head, though it sounds altogether so ridiculous." + +"Well, I give it up," said Mr. Penthorn, finishing his coffee. "If you +_were_ awake, Strange, someone must have been essaying a little +sleight-of-hand upon you. Good-morning, all of you; I must be off to +my patients. Tom Heriot, don't you get trying the ponds yet, or maybe +I shall have you on my hands as well as other people." + +We gave it up also: and nothing more was said or thought of it, as far +as I know. We were not, I repeat, a superstitious family. Papa went +about his duties as usual, and Leah went about hers. The next day, +Saturday, Mrs. Strange and Blanche returned home; and the cold grew +sharper and the frozen ponds were lovely. + +On Monday afternoon, the last day of the year, the Rector mounted old +Dobbin, to ride to the next parish. He had to take a funeral for the +incumbent, who was in bed with gout. + +"Have his shoes been roughed?" asked Tom, standing at the gate with me +to watch the start. + +"Yes; and well roughed too, Master Tom," spoke up James, who had lived +with us longer than I could remember, as gardener, groom, and general +man-of-all-work. "'Tisn't weather, sir, to send him out without being +rough-shod." + +"You two boys had better get to your Latin for an hour, and prepare it +for me for to-morrow; and afterwards you may go to the ponds," said my +father, as he rode away. "Good-bye, lads. Take care of yourself, +Charley." + +"Bother Latin!" said Tom. "I'm going off now. Will you come, +youngster?" + +"Not till I've done my Latin." + +"You senseless young donkey! Stay, though; I must tell the mamsie +something." + +He made for the dining-room, where Mrs. Strange sat with Blanche. +"Look here, mamsie," said he; "let us have a bit of a party +to-night." + +"A party, Tom!" she returned. + +"Just the young Penthorns and the Clints." + +"Oh, do, mamma!" I cried, for I was uncommonly fond of parties. And +"Do, mamma!" struck in little Blanche. + +My new mother rarely denied us anything; but she hesitated now. + +"I think not to-night, dears. You know we are going to have the +school-treat tomorrow evening, and the servants are busy with the +cakes and things. They shall come on Wednesday instead, Tom." + +Tom laughed. "They _must_ come to-night, mamsie. They _are_ coming. I +have asked them." + +"What--the young Penthorns?" + +"_And_ the young Clints," said Tom, clasping his stepmother, and +kissing her. "They'll be here on the stroke of five. Mind you treat us +to plenty of tarts and cakes, there's a good mamsie!" + +Tom went off with his skates. I got to my books. After that, some +friends came to call, and the afternoon seemed to pass in no time. + +"It is hardly worth while your going to the ponds now, Master +Charles," said Leah, meeting me in the passage, when I was at last at +liberty. + +In looking back I think that I must have had a very obedient nature, +for I was ever willing to listen to orders or suggestions, however +unpalatable they might be. Passing through the back-door, the nearest +way to the square pond, to which Tom had gone, I looked out. Twilight +was already setting in. The evening star twinkled in a clear, frosty +sky. The moon shone like a silver shield. + +"Before you could get to the square pond, Master Charley, it would be +dark," said Leah, as she stood beside me. + +"So it would," I assented. "I think I'll not go, Leah." + +"And I'm sure you don't need to tire yourself for to-night," went on +Leah. "There'll be romping enough and to spare if those boys and girls +come." + +I went back to the parlour. Leah walked to the side gate, wondering +(as she said afterwards) what had come to the milkman, for he was +generally much earlier. As she stood looking down the lane, she saw +Tom stealing up. + +"He has been in some mischief," decided Leah. "It's not like _him_ to +creep up in that timorous fashion. Good patience! Why, the lad must +have had a fright; his face is white as death." + +"Leah!" said the boy, shrinking as he glanced over his shoulder. +"Leah!" + +"Well, what on earth is it?" asked Leah, feeling a little dread +herself. "What have you been up to at that pond? You've not been in it +yourself, I suppose!" + +"Papa--the parson--is lying in the road by the triangle, all pale and +still. He does not move." + +Whenever Master Tom Heriot saw a chance of scaring the kitchen with a +fable, he plunged into one. Leah peered at him doubtfully in the +fading light. + +"I think he is dead. I'm sure he is," continued Tom, bursting into +tears. + +This convinced Leah. She uttered a faint cry. + +"We took that way back from the square pond; I, and Joe and Bertie +Penthorn. They were going home to get ready to come here. Then we saw +something lying near the triangle, close to that heap of flint-stones. +It was _him_, Leah. Oh! what is to be done? I can't tell mamma, or +poor Charley." + +James ran up, all scared, as Tom finished speaking. He had found +Dobbin at the stable-door, without sign or token of his master. + +Even yet I cannot bear to think of that dreadful night. We _had_ to be +told, you see; and Leah lost no time over it. While Tom came home with +the news, Joe Penthorn had run for his father, and Bertie called to +some labourers who were passing on the other side of the triangle. + +He was brought home on a litter, the men carrying it, Mr. Penthorn +walking by its side. He was not dead, but quite unconscious. They put +a mattress on the study-table, and laid him on it. + +He had been riding home from the funeral. Whether Dobbin, usually so +sure-footed and steady, had plunged his foot into a rut, just glazed +over by the ice, and so had stumbled; or whether something had +startled him and caused him to swerve, we never knew. The Rector had +been thrown violently, his head striking the stones. + +Mr. Penthorn did not leave the study. Two other surgeons, summoned in +haste from the neighbouring town, joined him. They could do nothing +for papa--_nothing_. He never recovered consciousness, and died during +the night--about a quarter before three o'clock. + +"I knew he would go just at this time, sir," whispered Leah to Mr. +Penthorn as he was leaving the house and she opened the front-door for +him. "I felt sure of it when the doctors said he would not see morning +light. It was just at the same hour that he had his call, sir, three +nights ago. As sure as that he is now lying there dead, as sure as +that those stars are shining in the heavens above us, _that was his +warning_." + +"Nonsense, Leah!" reproved Mr. Penthorn sharply. + + * * * * * + +Chances and changes. The world is full of them. A short time and White +Littleham Rectory knew us no more. The Reverend Eustace Strange was +sleeping his last sleep in the churchyard by his wife's side, and the +Reverend John Ravensworth was the new Rector. + +Tom Heriot went back to school. I was placed at one chosen for me by +my great-uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar. Leah Williams left us to +take service in another family, who were about to settle somewhere on +the Continent. She could not speak for emotion when she said good-bye +to me. + +"It must be for years, Master Charles, and it may be for ever," she +said, taking, I fancy, the words from one of the many favourite +ditties, martial or love-lorn, she treated us to in the nursery. "No, +we may never meet again in this life, Master Charles. All the same, I +hope we shall." + +And meet we did, though not for years and years. And it would no doubt +have called forth indignation from Leah had I been able to foretell +how, when that meeting came in after-life, she would purposely +withhold her identity from me and pass herself off as a stranger. + +Mrs. Strange went to London, Blanche with her, to take up for the +present her abode with her old aunt, who had invited her to do so. She +was little, if any, better off in this second widowhood than she had +been as the widow of Colonel Heriot. What papa had to leave he left to +her; but it was not much. I had my own mother's money. And so we were +all separated again; all divided: one here, another there, a third +elsewhere. It is the way of the world. Change and chance! chance and +change! + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +MR. SERJEANT STILLINGFAR. + + +Gloucester Place, Portman Square. In one of its handsome houses--as +they are considered to be by persons of moderate desires--dwelt its +owner, Major Carlen. Major Carlen was a man of the world; a man of +fashion. When the house had fallen to him some years before by the +will of a relative, with a substantial sum of money to keep it up, he +professed to despise the house to his brother-officers and other +acquaintances of the great world. He would have preferred a house in +Belgrave Square, or in Grosvenor Place, or in Park Lane. Major Carlen +was accustomed to speak largely; it was his way. + +Since then, he had retired from the army, and was master of himself, +his time and his amusements. Major Carlen was fond of clubs, fond of +card-playing, fond of dinners; fond, indeed, of whatever constitutes +fast life. His house in Gloucester Place was handsomely furnished, +replete with comfort, and possessed every reasonable requisite for +social happiness--even to a wife. And Major Carlen's wife was Jessy, +once Mrs. Strange, once Mrs. Heriot. + +It is quite a problem why some women cannot marry at all, try to do so +as they may, whilst others become wives three and four times over, and +without much seeking of their own. Mrs. Heriot (to give her her first +name) was one of these. In very little more than a year after her +first husband died, she married her second; in not any more than a +year after her second husband's death, she married her third. Major +Carlen must have been captivated by her pretty face and purring +manner; whilst she fell prone at the feet of the man of fashion, and +perhaps a very little at the prospect of being mistress of the house +in Gloucester Place. Anyway, the why and the wherefore lay between +themselves. Mrs. Strange became Mrs. Carlen. + +Reading over thus far, it has struck me that you may reasonably think +the story is to consist chiefly of marrying and dying; for there has +been an undue proportion of both events. Not so: as you will find as +you go on. Our ancestors do marry and die, you know: and these first +three chapters are only a prologue to the story which has to come. + + * * * * * + +Christmas has come round again. Not the Christmas following that which +ended so disastrously for us at White Littleham Rectory, but one five +years later. For the stream of time flows on its course, and boys and +girls grow insensibly towards men and women. + +It had been a green Christmas this year. We were now some days past +it. The air was mild, the skies were blue and genial. Newspapers told +of violets and other flowers growing in nooks, sheltered and +unsheltered. Mrs. Carlen, seated by a well-spread table, half dinner, +half tea, in the dining-room at Gloucester Place, declared that the +fire made the room too warm. I was reading. Blanche, a very fair and +pretty girl, now ten years old, sat on a stool on the hearthrug, her +light curls tied back with blue ribbons, her hands lying idly on the +lap of her short silk frock. We were awaiting an arrival. + +"Listen, Charles!" cried mamma--as I called her still. "I do think a +cab is stopping." + +I put down my book, and Blanche threw back her head and her blue +ribbons in expectation. But the cab went on. + +"It is just like Tom!" smiled Mrs. Carlen. "Nothing ever put him out +as it does other people. He gives us one hour and means another. He +_said_ seven o'clock, so we may expect him at ten. I do wish he could +have obtained leave for Christmas Day!" + +Major Carlen did not like children, boys especially: yet Tom Heriot +and I had been allowed to spend our holidays at his house, summer and +winter. Mrs. Carlen stood partly in the light of a mother to us both; +and I expect our guardians paid substantially for the privilege. Tom +was now nearly eighteen, and had had a commission given him in a crack +regiment; partly, it was said, through the interest of Major Carlen. I +was between fifteen and sixteen. + +"I'm sure you children must be famishing," cried Mrs. Carlen. "It +wants five minutes to eight. If Tom is not here as the clock strikes, +we will begin tea." + +The silvery bell had told its eight strokes and was dying away, when a +cab dashing past the door suddenly pulled up. No mistake this time. We +heard Tom's voice abusing the driver--or, as he called it, "pitching +into him"--for not looking at the numbers. + +What a fine, handsome young fellow he had grown! And how joyously he +met us all; folding mother, brother and sister in one eager embrace. +Tom Heriot was careless and thoughtless as it was possible for anyone +to be, but he had a warm and affectionate heart. When trouble, and +something worse, fell upon him later, and he became a town's talk, +people called him bad-hearted amongst other reproaches; but they were +mistaken. + +"Why, Charley, how you have shot up!" he cried gaily. "You'll soon +overtake me." + +I shook my head. "While I am growing, Tom, you will be growing also." + +"What was it you said in your last letter?" he went on, as we began +tea. "That you were going to leave school?" + +"Well, I fancy so, Tom. Uncle Stillingfar gave notice at Michaelmas." + +"Thinks you know enough, eh, lad?" + +I could not say much about that. That I was unusually well educated +for my years there could be no doubt about, especially in the classics +and French. My father had laid a good foundation to begin with, and +the school chosen for me was a first-rate one. The French resident +master had taken a liking to me, and had me much with him. Once during +the midsummer holidays he had taken me to stay with his people in +France: to Abbeville, with its interesting old church and +market-place, its quaint costumes and uncomfortable inns. Altogether, +I spoke and wrote French almost as well as he did. + +"What are they going to make of you, Charley? Is it as old Stillingfar +pleases?" + +"I think so. I dare say they'll put me to the law." + +"Unfortunate martyr! I'd rather command a pirate-boat on the high seas +than stew my brains over dry law-books and musty parchments!" + +"Tastes differ," struck in Miss Blanche. "And you are not going to sea +at all, Tom." + +"Tastes do differ," smiled Mrs. Carlen. "I should think it much nicer +to harangue judges and law-courts in a silk gown and wig, Tom, than +to put on a red coat and go out to be shot at." + +"Hark at the mamsie!" cried Tom, laughing. "Charley, give me some more +tongue. Where's the Major to-night?" + +The Major was dining out. Tom and I were always best pleased when he +did dine out. A pompous, boasting sort of man, I did not like him at +all. As Tom put it, we would at any time rather have his room than his +company. + +The days I am writing of are not these days. Boys left school earlier +then than they do now. I suppose education was not so comprehensive as +it is now made: but it served us. It was quite a usual thing to place +a lad out in the world at fourteen or fifteen, whether to a profession +or a trade. Therefore little surprise was caused at home by notice +having been given of my removal from school. + +At breakfast, next morning, Tom began laying out plans for the day. +"I'll take you to this thing, Charley, and I'll take you to that." +Major Carlen sat in his usual place at the foot of the table, facing +his wife. An imposing-looking man, tall, thin and angular, who must +formerly have been handsome. He had a large nose with a curious twist +in it; white teeth, which he showed very much; light gray eyes that +stared at you, and hair and whiskers of so brilliant a black that a +suspicious person might have said they were dyed. + +"I thought of taking you boys out myself this afternoon," spoke the +Major. "To see that horsemanship which is exhibiting. I hear it's very +good. Would you like to go?" + +"Oh, and me too!" struck in Blanche. "Take me, papa." + +"No," answered the Major, after reflection. "I don't consider it a fit +place for little girls. Would you boys like to go?" he asked. + +We said we should like it; said it in a sort of surprise, for it was +almost the first time he had ever offered to take us anywhere. + +"Charles cannot go," hastily interrupted Mrs. Carlen, who had at +length opened a letter which had been lying beside her plate. "This is +from Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, Charley. He asks me to send you to his +chambers this afternoon. You are to be there at three o'clock." + +"Just like old Stillingfar!" cried Tom resentfully. Considering that +he did not know much of Serjeant Stillingfar and had very little +experience of his ways, the reproach was gratuitous. + +Major Carlen laughed at it. "We must put off the horsemanship to +another day," said he. "It will come to the same thing. I will take +you out somewhere instead, Blanchie." + +Taking an omnibus in Oxford Street, when lunch was over, I went down +to Holborn, and thence to Lincoln's Inn. The reader may hardly believe +that I had never been to my uncle's chambers before, though I had +sometimes been to his house. He seemed to have kept me at a distance. +His rooms were on the first floor. On the outer door I read "Mr. +Serjeant Stillingfar." + +"Come in," cried out a voice, in answer to my knock. And I entered a +narrow little room. + +A pert-looking youth with a quantity of long, light curly hair and an +eye-glass, and not much older than myself, sat on a stool at a desk, +beside an unoccupied chair. He eyed me from head to foot. I wore an +Eton jacket and turn-down collar; he wore a "tail" coat, a stand-up +collar, and a stock. + +"What do _you_ want?" he demanded. + +"I want Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar." + +"Not in; not to be seen. You can come another day." + +"But I am here by appointment." + +The young gentleman caught up his eyeglass, fixed it, and turned it on +me. "I don't think you are expected," said he coolly. + +Now, though he had been gifted with a stock of native impudence, and a +very good stock it was at his time of life, I had been gifted with +native modesty. I waited in silence, not knowing what to do. Two or +three chairs stood about. He no doubt would have tried them all in +succession, had it suited him to do so. I did not like to take one of +them. + +"Will my uncle be long, do you know?" I asked. + +"Who _is_ your uncle?" + +"Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar." + +He put up his glass again, which had dropped, and stared at me harder +than before. At this juncture an inner door was opened, and a +middle-aged man in a black coat and white neckcloth came through it. + +"Are you Mr. Strange?" he inquired, quietly and courteously. + +"Yes. My uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, wrote to tell me to be here +at three o'clock." + +"I know. Will you step in here? The Serjeant is in Court, but will not +be long. As to you, young Mr. Lake, if you persist in exercising your +impudent tongue upon all comers, I shall request the Serjeant to put a +stop to your sitting here at all. How many times have you been told +not to take upon yourself to answer callers, but to refer them to me +when Michael is out?" + +"About a hundred and fifty, I suppose, old Jones. Haven't counted +them, though," retorted Mr. Lake. + +"Impertinent young rascal!" ejaculated Mr. Jones, as he took me into +the next room, and turned to a little desk that stood in a corner. He +was the Serjeant's confidential clerk, and had been with him for +years. Arthur Lake, beginning to read for the Bar, was allowed by the +Serjeant and his clerk to sit in their chambers of a day, to pick up a +little experience. + +"Sit down by the fire, Mr. Strange," said the clerk. "It is a warm +day, though, for the season. I expected the Serjeant in before this. +He will not be long now." + +Before I had well taken in the bearings of the room, which was the +Serjeant's own, and larger and better than the other, he came in, +wearing his silk gown and gray wig. He was a little man, growing +elderly now, with a round, smooth, fair face, out of which twinkled +kindly blue eyes. Mr. Jones got up from his desk at once to divest him +of wig and gown, producing at the same time a miniature flaxen wig, +which the Serjeant put upon his head. + +"So you have come, Charles!" he said, shaking hands with me as he sat +down in a large elbow-chair. Mr. Jones went out with his arm full of +papers and shut the door upon us. + +"Yes, sir," I answered. + +"You will be sixteen next May, I believe," he added. He had the +mildest voice and manner imaginable; not at all what might be expected +in a serjeant-at-law, who was supposed to take the Court by storm on +occasion. "And I understand from your late master that in all your +studies you are remarkably well advanced." + +"Pretty well, I think, sir," I answered modestly. + +"Ay. I am glad to hear you speak of it in a diffident, proper sort of +way. Always be modest, lad; true merit ever is so. It tells, too, in +the long-run. Well, Charles, I think it time that you were placed out +in life." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is there any calling that you especially fancy? Any one profession +you would prefer to embrace above another?" + +"No, sir; I don't know that there is. I have always had an idea that +it would be the law. I think I should like that." + +"Just so," he answered, the faint pink on his smooth cheeks growing +deeper with gratification. "It is what I have always intended you to +enter--provided you had no insuperable objection to it. But I shall +not make a barrister of you, Charles." + +"No!" I exclaimed. "What then?" + +"An attorney-at-law." + +I was too much taken by surprise to answer at once. "Is that--a +gentleman's calling, Uncle Charles?" I at length took courage to ask. + +"Ay, that it is, lad," he impressively rejoined. "It's true you've no +chance of the Woolsack or of a judgeship, or even of becoming a +pleader, as I am. If you had a ready-made fortune, Charles, you might +eat your dinners, get called, and risk it. But you have not; and I +will not be the means of condemning the best years of your life to +anxious poverty." + +I only looked at him, without speaking. I fancy he must have seen +disappointment in my face. + +"Look here, Charles," he resumed, bending forward impressively: "I +will tell you a little of my past experience. My people thought they +were doing a great thing for me when they put me to the Bar. I thought +the same. I was called in due course, and donned my stuff gown and wig +in glory--the glory cast by the glamour of hope. How long my mind +maintained that glamour; how long it was before it began to give +place to doubt; how many years it took to merge doubt into despair, I +cannot tell you. I think something like fifteen or twenty." + +"Fifteen or twenty years, Uncle Stillingfar!" + +"Not less. I was steady, persevering, sufficiently clever. Yet +practice did not come to me. It is all a lottery. I had no fortune, +lad; no one to help me. I was not clever at writing for the newspapers +and magazines, as many of my fellows were. And for more years than I +care to recall I had a hard struggle for existence. I was engaged to +be married. She was a sweet, patient girl, and we waited until we were +both bordering upon middle age. Ay, Charles, I was forty years old +before practice began to flow in upon me. The long lane had taken a +turning at last. It flew in then with a vengeance--more work than I +could possibly undertake." + +"And did you marry the young lady, Uncle Charles?" I asked in the +pause he came to. I had never heard of his having a wife. + +"No, child; she was dead. I think she died of waiting." + +I drew a long breath, deeply interested. + +"There are scores of young fellows starving upon hope now, as I +starved then, Charles. The market is terribly overstocked. For ten +barristers striving to rush into note in my days, you may count twenty +or thirty in these. I will not have you swell the lists. My brother's +grandson shall never, with my consent, waste his best years in +fighting with poverty, waiting for luck that may never come to him." + +"I suppose it is a lottery, as you say, sir." + +"A lottery where blanks far outweigh the prizes," he assented. "A +lottery into which you shall not enter. No, Charles; you shall be +spared that. As a lawyer, I can make your progress tolerably sure. You +may be a rich man in time if you will, and an honourable one. I have +sounded my old friend, Henry Brightman, and I think he is willing to +take you." + +"I am afraid I should not make a good pleader, sir," I acknowledged, +falling in with his views. "I can't speak a bit. We had a +debating-club at school, and in the middle of a speech I always lost +myself." + +He nodded, and rose. "You shall not try it, my boy. And that's all for +to-day, Charles. All I wanted was to sound your views before making +arrangements with Brightman." + +"Has he a good practice, sir?" + +"He has a very large and honourable practice, Charles. He is a good +man and a _gentleman_," concluded the Serjeant emphatically. "All +being well, you may become his partner sometime." + +"Am I not to go to Oxford, sir?" I asked wistfully. + +"If you particularly wish to do so and circumstances permit it, you +may perhaps keep a few terms when you are out of your articles," he +replied, with hesitation. "We shall see, Charles, when that time +comes." + + * * * * * + +"What a shame!" exclaimed Mrs. Carlen, when I reached home. "Make you +a lawyer! That he never shall, Charles. I shall not allow it. I will +go down and remonstrate with him." + +Major Carlen said it was a shame; said it contemptuously. Tom said it +was a double-shame, and threw a host of hard words upon Mr. Serjeant +Stillingfar. Blanche began to cry. She had been reading that day about +a press-gang, and quite believed my fate would be worse than that of +being pressed. + +After breakfast, next morning, we hastened to Lincoln's Inn: I and +Mrs. Carlen, for she kept her word. I should be a barrister or +nothing, she protested. All very fine to say so! She had no power over +me whatever. That lay with Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar and the other +trustee, and he never interfered. If they chose to article me to a +chimneysweep instead of a lawyer, no one could say them nay. + +Mr. Jones and young Lake sat side by side at the desk in the first +room when we arrived. Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar was in his own room. He +received us very kindly, shaking hands with Mrs. Carlen, whom he had +seen occasionally. Mrs. Carlen, sitting opposite to him, entered upon +her protest, and was meekly listened to by the Serjeant. + +"Better be a successful attorney, madam, than a briefless barrister," +he observed, when she finished. + +"All barristers are not briefless," said Mrs. Carlen. + +"A great many of them are," he answered. "Some of them never make +their mark at all; they live and die struggling men." And, leaning +forward in his chair--as he had leaned towards me yesterday--he +repeated a good deal that he had then said of his own history; his +long-continued poverty, and his despairing struggles. Mrs. Carlen's +heart melted. + +"Yes, I know. It is very sad, dear Mr. Serjeant, and I am sure your +experience is only that of many others," she sighed. "But, if I +understand the matter rightly, the chief trouble of these young +barristers is their poverty. Had they means to live, they could wait +patiently and comfortably until success came to them." + +"Of course," he assented. "It is the want of private means that makes +the uphill path so hard." + +"Charles has his three hundred a year." + +The faint pink in his cheeks, just the hue of a sea-shell, turned to +crimson. I was sitting beyond the table, and saw it. He glanced across +at me. + +"It will take more money to make Charles a lawyer and to ensure him a +footing afterwards in a good house than it would to get him called to +the Bar," he said with a smile. + +"Yes--perhaps so. But that is not quite the argument, Mr. Serjeant," +said my stepmother. "Any young man who has three hundred a year may +manage to live upon it." + +"It is to be hoped so. I know I should have thought three hundred a +year a perfect gold-mine." + +"Then you see Charles need not starve while waiting for briefs to come +in to him. Do you _not_ see that, Mr. Serjeant?" + +"I see it very clearly," he mildly said. "Had Charles his three +hundred a year to fall back upon, he might have gone to the Bar had he +liked, and risked the future." + +"But he has it," Mrs. Carlen rejoined, surprise in her tone. + +"No, madam, he has it not. Nor two hundred a year, nor one hundred." + +They silently looked at one another for a full minute. Mrs. Carlen +evidently could not understand his meaning. I am sure I did not. + +"Charles's money, I am sorry to say, is lost," he continued. + +"Lost! Since when?" + +"Since the bank-panic that we had nearly two years ago." + +Mrs. Carlen collapsed. "Oh, dear!" she breathed. "Did you--pray +forgive the question, Mr. Serjeant--did you lose it? Or--or--the other +trustee?" + +He shook his head. "No, no. We neither lost it, nor are we responsible +for the loss. Charles's grandfather, my brother, invested the money, +six thousand pounds, in bank debentures to bring in five per cent. He +settled the money upon his daughter, Lucy, and upon her children after +her, making myself and our old friend, George Wickham, trustees. In +the panic of two years ago this bank _went_; its shares and its +debentures became all but worthless." + +"Is the money all gone? quite gone?" gasped Mrs. Carlen. "Will it +never be recovered?" + +"The debentures are Charles's still, but they are for the present +almost worthless," he replied. "The bank went on again, and if it can +recover itself and regain prosperity, Charles in the end may not +greatly suffer. He may regain his money, or part of it. But it will +not be yet awhile. The unused portion of the income had been sunk, +year by year, in further debentures, in accordance with the directions +of the will. All went." + +"But--someone must have paid for Charles all this time--two whole +years!" she reiterated, in vexed surprise. + +"Yes! it has been managed," he gently said. + +"I think you must have paid for him yourself," spoke Mrs. Carlen with +impulse. "I think it is you who are intending to pay the premium to +Mr. Brightman, and to provide for his future expenses? You are a good +man, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar!" + +His face broke into a smile: the rare sweet smile which so seldom +crossed it. "I am only lending it to him. Charley will repay me when +he is a rich man. But you see now, Mrs. Carlen, why a certainty will +be better for him than an uncertainty." + +We saw it all too clearly, and there was no more remonstrance to be +made. Mrs. Carlen rose to leave, just as Mr. Jones came bustling into +the room. + +"Time is up, sir," he said to his master. "The Court will be waiting." + +"Ah, so: is it? Good-morning, madam," he added, politely dismissing +her. "I shall send for you here again in a day or two, Charles." + +"Thank you for what you are doing for me, Uncle Charles," I whispered. +"It is very kind of you." + +He laid his hand upon my shoulder affectionately, keeping it there for +a few seconds. And as we went out, the last glimpse I had was of his +kind, gentle face, and Mr. Jones standing ready to assist him on with +his wig and gown. + +And we went back to Gloucester Place aware that my destiny in life was +settled. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +IN ESSEX STREET. + + +Henry Brightman's offices were in Essex Street, Strand, near the +Temple. He rented the whole house: a capital house, towards the bottom +of the street on the left-hand side as you go down. His father, who +had been head and chief of the firm, had lived in it. But old Mr. +Brightman was dead, and his son, now sole master, lived over the water +on the Surrey side, in a style his father would never have dreamt of. +It was a firm of repute and consideration; and few legal firms, if +any, in London were better regarded. + +It was to this gentleman my uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, articled +me: and a gentleman Henry Brightman was in every sense of the term. He +was a slender man of middle height, with a bright, pleasant face, +quick, dark eyes, and brown hair. Very much to my surprise, I found, +when arrangements were being made for me, that I was to live in the +house. Serjeant Stillingfar had made it a condition that I should do +so. He and the late Mr. Brightman had been firm friends, and his +friendship was continued to Henry. An old lady, one Miss Methold, a +cousin of the Brightmans, resided in the house, and I was to take up +my abode with her. She was a kind old thing, though a little stern and +reserved, and she made me very comfortable. + +There were several clerks; and one articled pupil, who was leaving the +house as I entered it. The head of all was a gentleman named Lennard, +who seemed to take all management upon himself, under Mr. Brightman. +George Lennard was a tall spare man, with a thin, fair, aristocratic +face and well-formed features. He looked about thirty-five years old, +and an impression prevailed in the office that he was well-born, +well-connected, and had come down in the world through loss of +fortune. A man of few words, attentive, and always at his post, +Lennard was an excellent superintendent, ruling with a strict yet +kindly hand. + +One day, some weeks after I had entered, as I was at dinner with Miss +Methold in her sitting-room, and the weather was warm enough for all +doors to be open, we heard horses and carriage-wheels dash up to the +house. The room was at the head of the stairs, leading from the +offices to the kitchen: a large, pleasant room with a window looking +towards the Temple chambers and the winding river. + +"What a commotion!" exclaimed Miss Methold. + +I went to the door, and saw an open barouche, with a lady and a little +girl inside it, attended by a coachman and footman in livery. + +"It is quite a grand carriage, Miss Methold." + +"Oh," said she, looking over my shoulder: "it is Mrs. Brightman." + +"Very proud and high-and-mighty, is she not?" I rejoined, for the +clerks had talked about her. + +"She was born proud. Her mother was a nobleman's daughter, and she'll +be proud to the end," said the old lady. "Henry keeps up great show +and state for her. Of course, that is his affair, not mine." + +"I hear he has a charming place at Clapham, Miss Methold?" + +"So do I," she answered rather bitterly. "I have never seen it." + +"Never seen it?" I echoed in surprise. + +"Never," she answered. "I have not even been invited there by her. +Never once, Charles. Mrs. Brightman despises her husband's profession +in her heart; she despises me as belonging to it, I suppose, and as a +poor relation. She has never condescended to get out of her carriage +to enter the office here, and has never asked to see me, here or +there. Henry has invited me down there once or twice when she was away +from home, but I have said, No, thank you." + +Mr. Lennard came in. The clerks, one excepted, had gone out to dinner. +"Do you know whether it will be long before Mr. Brightman comes in, or +where he has gone to?" he said to Miss Methold. + +"Indeed, I do not," she answered rather shortly. "I only knew he was +out by his not appearing now at luncheon." + +"Charles, go to the carriage and tell Mrs. Brightman that we don't +know how long it may be before Mr. Brightman comes in," said he. + +I rather wondered why he could not go himself as I took out the +message to Mrs. Brightman. + +She had a fair proud face, and her air was cold and haughty as she +listened to me. + +"Let this be given to him as soon as he comes in," she said, handing +me a sealed note. "Regent Street; Carbonell's," she added to the +footman. + +As the carriage turned and bowled away, I caught the child's pretty +face, a smile on her rosy lips and in her laughing brown eyes. + +I may as well say here that young Lake had struck up an +acquaintanceship with me. The reader may remember that I saw him at +the chambers of Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar. I grew to like him greatly. +His faults were all on the surface; his heart was in the right place. +Boy though he was, he was thrown upon himself in the world. I don't +mean as to money, but as to a home; and he steered his course +unscathed through its shoals. The few friends he had lived in the +country. He had neither father nor mother. His lodgings were in +Norfolk Street, very near to us. Miss Methold would sometimes have him +in to spend Sunday with me; and now and then, but very rarely, he and +I were invited for that day to dine with Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar. + +The Serjeant lived in Russell Square, in one of its handsomest houses. +But he kept, so to say, no establishment; just two or three servants +and a modest little brougham. He must have been making a great deal of +money at that time, and I suppose he put it by. + +"Ah! you don't know, Charley," Lake said to me one evening when I was +in Norfolk Street, and we began talking of him. "It is said his money +went in that same precious bank which devoured yours; and it is +thought that he lives in this quiet manner, eschewing pomps and +vanities, to be able to help friends who were quite ruined by it. Old +Jones knows a little, and I've heard him drop a word or two." + +"I am sure my uncle is singularly good and kind. Those simple-minded +men generally are." + +Lake nodded. "Few men, _I_ should say, come up to Serjeant +Stillingfar." + +A trouble had come to me in the early spring. I thought it a great +one, and grieved over it. Major Carlen gave up his house in +Gloucester Place, letting it furnished for a long term, and went +abroad with his wife. _He_ might have gone to the end of the world for +ever and a day, but she was like my second mother, and indeed _was_ +so, and I felt lost without her. They took up their abode at Brussels. +It would be good for Blanche's education, Mrs. Carlen wrote to me. +Other people said that the Major had considerably out-run the +constable, and went there to economise. Tom Heriot was down at +Portsmouth with his regiment. + +I think that is all I need say of this part of my life. I liked my +profession very much indeed, and got on well in it and with Mr. +Brightman and the clerks, and with good old Miss Methold. And so the +years passed on. + +The first change came when I was close upon twenty years of age: came +in the death of Miss Methold. After that, I left Essex Street as a +residence, for there was no longer anyone to rule it, and went into +Lake's lodgings in Norfolk Street, sharing his sitting-room and +securing a bedroom. And still a little more time rolled on. + + * * * * * + +It was Easter-tide. On Easter Eve, it happened that I had remained in +the office after the other clerks had left, to finish some work in +hand. In these days Saturday afternoon has become a general holiday; +in those days we had to work all the harder. On Saturdays a holiday +was unknown. + +Writing steadily, I finished my task, and was locking up my desk, +which stood near the far window in the front room on the ground floor, +when Mr. Brightman, who had also remained late, came downstairs from +his private room, and looked in. + +"Not gone yet, Charley!" + +"I am going now, sir. I have only just finished my work." + +"Some of the clerks are coming on Monday, I believe," continued Mr. +Brightman. "Are you one of them?" + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Lennard told me I might take holiday, but I did not +care about it. As I have no friends to spend it with, it would not be +much of a holiday to me. Arthur Lake is out of town." + +"And Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar on circuit," added Mr. Brightman. + +He paused and looked at me, as he stood near the door. I was gathering +the pens together. + +"Have you no friends to dine with, to-morrow--Easter Day?" + +"No, sir. At least, I have not been asked anywhere. I think I shall go +for a blow up the river." + +"A blow up the river!" he repeated doubtfully. "Don't you go to +church?" + +"Always. I go to the Temple. I meant in the afternoon, sir." + +"Well, if you have no friends to dine with, you may come and dine with +me," said Mr. Brightman, after a moment's consideration. "Come down +when service is over. You will find an omnibus at Charing Cross." + +The invitation pleased me. Some of the clerks would have given their +ears for it. Of course I mean the gentlemen clerks; not one of whom +had ever been so favoured. I had sometimes wondered that he never +asked me, considering his intimacy with my uncle. But, I suppose, to +have invited me to his house and left out Miss Methold would have been +rather too pointed a slight upon her. + +It was a fine day. The Temple service was beautiful, as usual; the +anthem, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." Afterwards I went forth to +keep my engagement, and in due time reached the entrance-gates of Mr. +Brightman's residence. + +It was a large, handsome villa, enclosed in fine pleasure-grounds, +near Clapham. They lived in a good deal of style, kept seven or eight +servants and two carriages: a large barouche, and a brougham in which +he sometimes came to town. A well-appointed house, full of comfort and +luxury. Mr. Brightman was on the lawn when I reached it. + +"Well, Charles! I began to think you were late." + +"I walked down, sir. The first two omnibuses were full, and I would +not wait for a third." + +"Rather a long walk," he remarked with a smile. "But it is what I +should have done at your age. Dinner will be ready soon. We dine at +three o'clock on Sundays. It allows ourselves and the servants to +attend evening as well as morning service." + +He had walked towards the house as he spoke, and we went in. The +drawing-room and dining-room opened on either side a large hall. In +the former room sat Mrs. Brightman. I had seen her occasionally at the +office door in her carriage, but had never spoken to her except that +first time. She was considerably younger than Mr. Brightman, who must +have been then getting towards fifty. A proud woman she looked as she +sat there; her hair light and silky, her blue eyes disdainful, her +dress a rich purple silk, with fine white lace about it. + +"Here is Charles Strange at last," Mr. Brightman said to her, and she +replied by a slight bend of the head. She did not offer to shake +hands with me. + +"I have heard of you as living in Essex Street," she condescended to +observe, as I sat down. "Your relatives do not, I presume, live in +London?" + +"I have not any near relatives," was my answer. "My great-uncle lives +in London, but he is away just now." + +"You were speaking of that great civil cause, Emma, lately tried in +the country; and of the ability of the defendants' counsel, Serjeant +Stillingfar," put in Mr. Brightman. "It is Serjeant Stillingfar, if +you remember, who is Charles's uncle." + +"Oh, indeed," she said; and I thought her manner became rather more +gracious. And ah, what a gracious, charming lady she could be when she +pleased!--when she was amongst people whom she considered of her own +rank and degree. + +"Where is Annabel?" asked Mr. Brightman. + +"She has gone dancing off somewhere," was Mrs. Brightman's reply. "I +never saw such a child. She is never five minutes together in one +place." + +Presently she danced in. A graceful, pretty child, apparently about +twelve, in a light-blue silk frock. She wore her soft brown hair in +curls round her head, and they flew about as she flew, and a bright +colour rose to her cheeks with every word she spoke, and her eyes were +like her father's--dark, tender, expressive. Not any resemblance could +I trace to her mother, unless it lay in the same delicately-formed +features. + +We had a plain dinner; a quarter of lamb, pastry and creams. Mr. +Brightman did not exactly apologize for it, but explained that on +Sundays they had as little cooking as possible. But it was handsomely +served, and there were several sorts of wine. Three servants waited at +table, two in livery and the butler in plain clothes. + +Some little time after it was over, Mr. Brightman left the room, and +Mrs. Brightman, without the least ceremony, leaned back in an +easy-chair and closed her eyes. I said something to the child. She did +not answer, but came to me on tiptoe. + +"If we talk, mamma will be angry," she whispered. "She never lets me +make a noise while she goes to sleep. Would you like to come out on +the lawn? We may talk there." + +I nodded, and Annabel silently opened and passed out at one of the +French windows, holding it back for me. I as silently closed it. + +"Take care that it is quite shut," she said, "or the draught may get +to mamma. Papa has gone to his room to smoke his cigar," she +continued; "and we shall have coffee when mamma awakes. We do not take +tea until after church. Shall you go to church with us?" + +"I dare say I shall. Do you go?" + +"Of course I do. My governess tells me never to miss attending church +twice on Sundays, unless there is very good cause for doing so, and +then things will go well with me in the week. But if I wished to stay +at home, papa would not let me. Once, do you know, I made an excuse to +stay away from morning service: I said my head ached badly, though it +did not. It was to read a book that had been lent me, 'The Old English +Baron.' I feared my governess would not let me read it, if she saw it, +because it was about ghosts, so that I had only the Sunday to read it +in. Well, do you know, that next week nothing went right with me; my +lessons were turned back, my drawing was spoilt, and my French +mistress tore my translation in two. Oh, dear! it was nothing but +scolding and crossness. So at last, on the Saturday, I burst into +tears and told Miss Shelley about staying away from church and the +false excuse I had made. But she was very kind, and would not punish +me, for she said I had already had a whole week of punishment." + +Of all the little chatterboxes! "Is Miss Shelley your governess now?" +I asked her. + +"Yes. But her mother is an invalid, so mamma allows her to go home +every Saturday night and come back on Monday morning. Mamma says it is +pleasant to have Sunday to ourselves. But I like Miss Shelley very +much, and should be dull without her if papa were not at home. I do +love Sundays, because papa's here. Did you ever read 'The Old English +Baron'?" + +"No." + +"Shall I lend it you to take home?" continued Annabel, her cheeks +glowing, her eyes sparkling with good-nature. "I have it for my own +now. It is a very nice book. Have your sisters read it? Perhaps you +have no sisters?" + +"I have no real sisters, and my father and mother are dead. I have--" + +"Oh dear, how sad!" interrupted Annabel, clasping her hands. "Not to +have a father and mother! Was it"--after a pause--"you who lived with +Miss Methold?" + +"Yes. Did you know her?" + +"I knew her; and I liked her--oh, very much. Papa used to take me to +see her sometimes. With whom do you live now?" + +"I live in lodgings." + +She stood looking at me with her earnest eyes--thoughtful eyes just +then. + +"Then who sews the buttons on your shirts?" + +I burst into laughter: the reader may have done the same. "My landlady +professes to sew them on, Annabel, but the shirts often go without +buttons. Sometimes I sew one on myself." + +"If you had one off now, and it was not Sunday, I would sew it on for +you," said Annabel. "Why do you laugh?" + +"At your concern about my domestic affairs, my dear little girl." + +"But there's a gentleman who lives in lodgings and comes here +sometimes to dine with papa--he is older than you--and he says it is +the worst trouble of life to have no one to sew his buttons on. Who +takes care of you if you are ill?" she added, after another pause. + +"As there is no one to take care of me, I cannot afford to be ill, +Annabel. I am generally quite well." + +"I am glad of that. Was your father a lawyer, like papa?" + +"No. He was a clergyman." + +"Oh, don't turn," she cried; "I want to show you my birds. We have an +aviary, and they are beautiful. Papa lets me call them mine; and some +of them are mine in reality, for they were bought for me. Mamma does +not care for birds." + +Presently I asked Annabel her age. + +"Fourteen." + +"Fourteen!" I exclaimed in surprise. + +"I was fourteen in January. Mamma says I ought not to tell people my +age, for they will only think me more childish; but papa says I may +tell everyone." + +She was in truth a child for her years; especially as age is now +considered. She ran about, showing me everything, her frock, her +curls, her eyes dancing: from the aviary to the fowls, from the fowls +to the flowers: all innocent objects of her daily pleasures, innocent +and guileless as she herself. + +A smart-looking maid, with red ringlets flowing about her red cheeks, +and wide cap-strings flowing behind them, came up. + +"Why, here you are!" she exclaimed. "I've been looking all about for +you, Miss Annabel. Your mamma says you are to come in." + +"We are coming, Hatch; we were turning at that moment," answered the +child. "Is coffee ready?" + +"Yes, Miss Annabel, and waiting." + +In the evening we went to church, the servants following at some +distance. Afterwards we had tea, and then I rose to depart. Mr. +Brightman walked with me across the lawn, and we had almost reached +the iron gates when there came a sound of swift steps behind us. + +"Papa! papa! Is he gone? Is Mr. Strange gone?" + +"What is the matter now?" asked Mr. Brightman. + +"I promised to lend Mr. Strange this: it is 'The Old English Baron.' +He has never read it." + +"There, run back," said Mr. Brightman, as I turned and took the book +from her. "You will catch cold, Annabel." + +"What a charming child she is, sir!" I could not help exclaiming. + +"She is that," he replied. "A true child of nature, knowing no harm +and thinking none. Mrs. Brightman complains that her ideas and manners +are unformed; no style about her, she says, no reserve. In my opinion +that ought to constitute a child's chief charm. All Annabel's parts +are good. Of sense, intellect, talent, she possesses her full share; +and I am thankful that they are not prematurely developed. I am +thankful," he repeated with emphasis, "that she is not a forward +child. In my young days, girls were girls, but now there is not such a +thing to be found. They are all women. I do not admire the forcing +system myself; forced vegetables, forced fruit, forced children: they +are good for little. A genuine child, such as Annabel, is a treasure +rarely met with." + +I thought so too. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WATTS'S WIFE. + + +Leaving the omnibus at Charing Cross, I was hastening along the Strand +on my way home, when I ran against a gentleman, who was swaggering +along in a handsome, capacious cloak as if all the street belonged to +him. + +"I beg your pardon," I said, in apology. "I----" And there I broke off +to stare, for I thought I recognised him in the gaslight. + +"Why! It is Major Carlen!" + +"Just so. And it is Charles. How are you, Charles?" + +"Have you lately come from Brussels?" I asked, as we shook hands. +"And how did you leave mamma and Blanche?" + +"They are in Gloucester Place," he answered. "We all came over last +Wednesday." + +"I wonder they did not let me know it." + +"Plenty of time, young man. They will not be going away in a hurry. We +are settling down here again. You can come up when you like." + +"That will be to-morrow then. Good-night, sir." + +But it was not until Monday evening that I could get away. Mr. Lennard +went out in the afternoon on some private matter of his own, and +desired me to remain in to see a client, who had sent us word he +should call, although it was Easter Monday. Mr. Brightman did not come +to town that day. + +Six o'clock was striking when I reached Gloucester Place. Blanche ran +to meet me in the passage, and we had a spell of kissing. I think she +was then about fourteen; perhaps fifteen. A fair, upright, beautiful +girl, with the haughty blue eyes of her childhood, and a shower of +golden curls. + +"Oh, Charley, I am so glad! I thought you were never, never coming to +us." + +"I did not know you were here until last night. You should have sent +me word." + +"I told mamma so; but she was not well. She is not well yet. The +journey tired her, you see, and the sea was rough. Come upstairs and +see her, Charley. Papa has just gone out." + +Mrs. Carlen sat over the fire in the drawing-room in an easy-chair, a +shawl upon her shoulders. It was a dull evening, twilight not far off, +and she sat with her back to the light. It struck me she looked thin +and ill. I had been over once or twice to stay with them in Brussels; +the last time, eighteen months ago. + +"Are you well, mamma?" I asked as she kissed me--for I had not left +off calling her by the fond old childhood's name. "You don't look so." + +"The journey tired me, Charley," she answered--just as Blanche had +said to me. "I have a little cold, too. Sit down, my boy." + +"Have you come back here for good?" I asked. + +"Well, yes, I suppose so," she replied with hesitation. "For the +present, at all events." + +Tea was brought in. Blanche made it; her mother kept to her chair and +her shawl. The more I looked at her, the greater grew the conviction +that something beyond common ailed her. Major Carlen was dining out, +and they had dined in the middle of the day. + +Alas! I soon knew what was wrong. After tea, contriving to get rid of +Blanche for a few minutes on some plausible excuse, she told me all. +An inward complaint was manifesting itself, and it was hard to say how +it might terminate. The Belgian doctors had not been very reassuring +upon the point. On the morrow she was going to consult James Paget. + +"Does Blanche know?" I asked. + +"Not yet. I must see Mr. Paget before saying anything to her. If my +own fears are confirmed, I shall tell her. In that case I shall lose +no time in placing her at school." + +"At school!" + +"Why, yes, Charley. What else can be done? This will be no home for +her when I am out of it. Not at an ordinary school, though. I shall +send her to our old home, White Littleham Rectory. Mr. and Mrs. +Ravensworth are there still. She takes two or three pupils to bring up +with her own daughter, and will be glad of Blanche. There--we will put +that subject away for the present, Charley. I want to ask you about +something else, and Blanche will soon be back again. Do you see much +of Tom Heriot?" + +"I see him very rarely indeed. He is not quartered in London, you +know." + +"Charles, I am afraid--I am very much afraid that Tom is wild," she +went on, after a pause. "He came into his money last year: six +thousand pounds. We hear that he has been launching out into all sorts +of extravagance ever since. That must mean that he is drawing on his +capital." + +I had heard a little about Tom's doings myself. At least, Lake had +done so, which came to the same thing. But I did not say this. + +"It distresses me much, Charles. You know how careless and improvident +Tom is, and yet how generous-hearted. He will bring himself to ruin if +he does not mind, and what would become of him then? Major Carlen +says--Hush! here comes Blanche." + +I cannot linger over this part of my story. Mrs. Carlen died; and +Blanche was sent to White Littleham. + +And, indeed, of the next few passing years there is not much to +record. I obtained my certificate, as a matter of course. Then I +managed, by Mr. Brightman's kindness in sparing me, and by my uncle's +liberality, to keep a few terms at Oxford. I was twenty-three when I +kept the last term, and then I was sent for some months to Paris, to +make myself acquainted with law as administered in the French courts. +That over, arrangements were made for my becoming Mr. Brightman's +partner. If he had had sons, one of them would probably have filled +the position. Having none, he admitted me on easy terms, for I had my +brains about me, as the saying runs, and was excessively useful to the +firm. A certain sum was paid down by Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, and the +firm became Brightman and Strange. I was to receive at first only a +small portion of the profits. And let me say here, that all my +expenses of every description, during these past years, had been +provided for by that good man, Charles Stillingfar, and provided +liberally. So there I was in an excellent position, settled for life +when only twenty-four years of age. + +After coming home from Paris to enter upon these new arrangements, I +found Mr. Brightman had installed a certain James Watts in Essex +Street as care-taker and messenger, our former man, Dickory, having +become old and feeble. A good change. Dickory, in growing old, had +grown fretful and obstinate, and liked his own way and will better +than that of his masters. Watts was well-mannered and well-spoken; +respectable and trustworthy. His wife's duties were to keep the rooms +clean, in which she was at liberty to have in a woman to help once or +twice a week if she so minded, and up to the present time to prepare +Mr. Brightman's daily luncheon. They lived in the rooms on the bottom +floor, one of which was their bedroom. + +"I like them both," I said to Mr. Brightman, when I had been back a +day or two. "Things will be comfortable now." + +"Yes, Charles; I hope you will find them so," he answered. + +For it ought to be mentioned that, in becoming Mr. Brightman's +partner, it had been settled that I should return as an inmate to the +house. He said he should prefer it. And, indeed, I thought I should +also. So that I had taken up my abode there at once. + +The two rooms on the ground floor were occupied by the clerks. Mr. +Lennard had his desk in the back one. Miss Methold's parlour, a few +steps lower, was now not much used, except that a client was sometimes +taken into it. The large front room on the first floor was Mr. +Brightman's private room; the back one was mine; but he had also a +desk in it. These two rooms opened to one another. The floor above +this was wholly given over to me; sitting-room, bedroom, and +dressing-room. The top floor was only used for boxes, and on those +rare occasions when someone wanted to sleep at the office. Watts and +his wife were to attend to me; she to see to the meals, he to wait +upon me. + +"I should let her get in everything without troubling, and bring up +the bills weekly, were I you, Charles," remarked Mr. Brightman, one +evening when he had stayed later than usual, and was in my room, and +we fell to talking of the man and his wife. "Much better than for her +to be coming to you everlastingly, saying you want this and you want +that. She is honest, I feel sure, and I had the best of characters +with both of them." + +"She has an honest face," I answered. "But it looks sad. And what a +silent woman she is. Speaking of her face though, sir, it puts me in +mind of someone's, and I cannot think whose." + +"You may have seen her somewhere or other," remarked Mr. Brightman. + +"Yes, but I can't remember where. I'll ask her." + +Mrs. Watts was then coming into the room with some water, which Mr. +Brightman had rung for. She looked about forty-five years old; a thin, +bony woman of middle height, with a pale, gray, wrinkled face, and +gray hairs banded under a huge cap, tied under her chin. + +"There's something about your face that seems familiar to me, Mrs. +Watts," I said, as she put down the glass and the bottle of water. +"Have I ever seen you before?" + +She was pouring out the water, and did not look at me. "I can't say, +sir," she answered in a low tone. + +"Do you remember _me_? That's the better question." + +She shook her head. "Watts and I lived in Ely Place for some years +before we came here, sir," she then said. "It's not impossible you may +have seen me in the street when I was doing the steps; but I never saw +you pass by that I know of." + +"And before that, where did you live?" + +"Before that, sir? At Dover." + +"Ah! well," I said, for this did not help me out with my puzzle; "I +suppose it is fancy." + +Mr. Brightman caught up the last word as Mrs. Watts withdrew. "Fancy, +Charles; that's what it must be. And fancy sometimes plays wonderful +tricks with us." + +"Yes, sir; I expect it is fancy. For all that, I feel perplexed. The +woman's voice and manner seem to strike a chord in my memory as much +as her face does." + + * * * * * + +"Captain Heriot, sir." + +Sitting one evening in my room at dusk in the summer weather, the +window open to the opposite wall and to the side view of the Thames, +waiting for Lake to come in, Watts had thus interrupted me to show in +Tom Heriot. I started up and grasped his hands. He was a handsome +young fellow, with the open manners that had charmed the world in the +days gone by, and charmed it still. + +"Charley, boy! It is good to see you." + +"Ay, and to see _you_, Tom. Are you staying in London?" + +"Why, we have been here for days! What a fellow you are, not to know +that we are now quartered here. Don't you read the newspapers? It used +to be said, you remember, that young Charley lived in a wood." + +I laughed. "And how are things with you, Tom?" + +"Rather down; have been for a long time; getting badder and badder." + +My heart gave a thump. In spite of his laughing air and bright smile, +I feared it might be too true. + +"I am going to the deuce, headlong, Charley." + +"Don't, Tom!" + +"Don't what? Not go or not talk of it? It is as sure as death, lad." + +"Have you made holes in your money?" + +"Fairly so. I think I may say so, considering that the whole of it is +spent." + +"Oh, Tom!" + +"Every individual stiver. But upon my honour as a soldier, Charley, +other people have had more of it than I. A lot of it went at once, +when I came into it, paying off back debts." + +"What shall you do? You will never make your pay suffice." + +"Sell out, I expect." + +"And then?" + +Tom shrugged his shoulders in answer. They were very slender +shoulders. His frame was slight altogether, suggesting that he might +not be strong. He was about as tall as I--rather above middle height. + +"Take a clerkship with you, at twenty shillings a week, if you'd give +it me. Or go out to the Australian diggings to pick up gold. How grave +you look, Charles!" + +"It is a grave subject. But I hope you are saying this in joke, Tom." + +"Half in joke, half in earnest. I will not sell out if I can help it; +be sure of that, old man; but I think it will have to come to it. Can +you give me something to drink, Charley? I am thirsty." + +"Will you take some tea? I am just going to have mine. Or anything +else instead?" + +"I was thinking of brandy and soda. But I don't mind if I do try tea, +for once. Ay, I will. Have it up, Charley." + +I rang the bell, and Mrs. Watts brought it up. + +"Anything else, sir?" she stayed to ask. + +"Not at present. Watts has gone out with that letter, I suppose?---- +Why, you have forgotten the milk!" + +She gave a sharp word at her own stupidity, and left the room. Tom's +eyes had been fixed upon her, following her to the last. He began +slowly pushing back his bright brown hair, as he would do in his +boyhood when anything puzzled him. + +"Oh, I remember," he suddenly exclaimed. "So you have _her_ here, +Charley!" + +"Who here?" + +"Leah." + +"_Leah!_ What do you mean?" + +"That servant of yours." + +"That is our messenger's wife: Mrs. Watts." + +"Mrs. Watts she may be now, for aught I know; but she was Leah +Williams when we were youngsters, Charley." + +"Impossible, Tom. This old woman cannot be Leah." + +"I tell you, lad, it is Leah," he persisted. "No mistake about it. At +the first moment I did not recollect her. I have a good eye for faces, +but she is wonderfully altered. Do you mean to say she has not made +herself known to you?" + +I shook my head. But even as Tom spoke, little items of remembrance +that had worried my brain began to clear themselves bit by bit. Mrs. +Watts came in with the milk. + +She had put it down on the tray when Tom walked up to her, holding out +his hand, his countenance all smiles, his hazel eyes dancing. + +"How are you, Leah, after all these years? Shake hands for auld lang +syne. Do you sing the song still?" + +Leah gave one startled glance and then threw her white apron up to her +face with a sob. + +"Come, come," said Tom kindly. "I didn't want to startle you, Leah." + +"I didn't think you would know me, sir," she said, lifting her +woebegone face. "Mr. Charles here did not." + +"Not know you! I should know you sooner than my best sweetheart," +cried Tom gaily. + +"Leah," I interposed, gravely turning to her, "how is it that you did +not let me know who you were? Why have you kept it from me?" + +She stood with her back against Mr. Brightman's desk, hot tears +raining down her worn cheeks. + +"I _couldn't_ tell you, Master Charles. I'm sorry you know now. It's +like a stab to me." + +"But why could you not tell me?" + +"Pride, I suppose," she shortly said. "I was upper servant at the +Rectory; your mamma's own maid, Master Charles: and I couldn't bear +you should know that I had come down to this. A servant of all +work--scrubbing floors and washing dishes." + +"Oh, that's nothing," struck in Tom cheerfully. "Most of us have our +ups and downs, Leah. As far as I can foresee, I may be scouring out +pots and pans at the gold-diggings next year. I have just been saying +so to Mr. Charley. Your second marriage venture was an unlucky one, I +expect?" + +Leah was crying silently. "No, it is not that," she answered presently +in a low tone. "Watts is a steady and respectable man; very much so; +above me, if anything. It--it--I have had cares and crosses of my own, +Mr. Tom; I have them always; and they keep me down." + +"Well, tell me what they are," said Tom. "I may be able to help you. I +will if I can." + +Leah sighed and moved to the door. "You are just as kind-hearted as +ever, Mr. Tom; I see that; and I thank you. Nobody can help me, sir. +And my trouble is secret to myself: one I cannot speak of to anyone in +the world." + +Just as kind-hearted as ever! Yes, Tom Heriot was that, and always +would be. Embarrassed as he no doubt was for money, he slipped a gold +piece into Leah's hand as she left the room, whispering that it was +for old friendship's sake. + +And so that was Leah! Back again waiting upon me, as she had waited +when I was a child. It was passing strange. + +I spoke to her that night, and asked her to confide her trouble to me. +The bare suggestion seemed to terrify her. + +"It was a dreadful trouble," she admitted in answer; "a nightly and +daily torment; one that at times went well-nigh to frighten her senses +away. But she must keep it secret, though she died for it." + +And as Leah whispered this to me under her breath, she cast dread +glances around the walls on all sides, as if she feared that +eaves-droppers might be there. + +What on earth could the secret be? + + * * * * * + +And now, for a time, I retire into the background, and cease +personally to tell the story. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +BLANCHE HERIOT. + + +On one of those promising days that we now and then see in February, +which seem all the more warm and lovely in contrast with the passing +winter, the parsonage of White Littleham put on its gayest appearance +within--perhaps in response to the fair face of nature without. A +group of four girls had collected in the drawing-room. One was taking +the brown holland covers from the chairs, sofa, and footstools; +another was bringing out certain ornaments, elegant trifles, displayed +only on state occasions; the other two were filling glasses with +evergreens and hot-house flowers. It was the same room in which you +once saw poor Mrs. Strange lying on her road to death. The parsonage +received three young ladies to share in the advantages of foreign +governesses, provided for the education of its only daughter, Cecilia. + +Whilst the girls were thus occupied, a middle-aged lady entered, the +mistress of the house, and wife of the Reverend John Ravensworth. + +"Oh, Mrs. Ravensworth, why did you come in? We did not want you to see +it until it was all finished." + +Mrs. Ravensworth smiled. "My dears, it will only look as it has looked +many a time before; as it did at Christmas--" + +"Mamma, you must excuse my interrupting you," cried the young girl who +was arranging the ornaments; "but it will look very different from +then. At Christmas we had wretched weather, and see it to-day. And at +Christmas we had not the visitors we shall have now." + +"We had one of the two visitors, at any rate, Cecilia." + +"Oh, yes, we had Arnold. But Arnold is nobody; we are used to him." + +"And Major Carlen is somebody," interposed the only beautiful girl +present, looking round from the flowers with a laugh. "Thank you, in +papa's name, Cecilia." + +Very beautiful was she: exceedingly fair, with somewhat haughty blue +eyes, delicate features, and fine golden hair. Blanche Heriot (as +often as not called Blanche Carlen at the Rectory) stood conspicuous +amidst the rest of the girls. They were pleasing-looking and +lady-like, but that was all. Rather above middle-height, slender, +graceful, she stood as a queen beside her companions. Under different +auspices, Blanche Heriot might have become vain and worldly; but, +enshrined as she had been for the last few years within the precincts +of a humble parsonage, and trained in its doctrines of practical +Christianity, Blanche had become thoroughly imbued with the +influences around her. Now, in her twentieth year, she was simple and +guileless as a child. + +It was so long since she had seen her father--as she was pleased to +call Major Carlen--that she had partly forgotten what he was like. He +was expected now on a two days' visit, and for him the house was being +made to look its best. The other visitor, coming by accident at the +same time, was Arnold Ravensworth, the Rector's nephew. + +Major Carlen's promised visit was an event to the quiet Rector and his +wife. All they knew of him was that he was step-father to Blanche, and +a man who moved in the gay circles of the world. The interest of +Blanche Heriot's money had paid for her education and dress. The Major +would have liked the fingering of it amazingly; but to covet is one +thing, to obtain is another. Blanche's money was safe in the hands of +trustees; but before Mrs. Carlen died she had appointed her husband +Blanche's personal guardian, with power to control her residence when +she should have attained her eighteenth year. That had been passed +some time now, and Major Carlen had just awakened to his +responsibilities. + +The first to arrive was Arnold Ravensworth, a distinguished-looking +man, with a countenance cold, it must be confessed, but full of +intellect. And the next to arrive was not the Major. The day passed on +to night. The trains came into the neighbouring station, but they did +not bring Major Carlen. Blanche cried herself to sleep. She remembered +how kind her papa used to be to her--indulging her and taking her +about to see sights--and she had cherished a great affection for him. +In fact, the Major had always indulged little Blanche. + +Neither had he come the next morning. After breakfast, Blanche went to +the end of the garden and stood looking out across the field. The +shady dingle, where as a little child she had sat to pick violets and +primroses, was there; but she was gazing at something else--the path +that would bring her father. Arnold Ravensworth came strolling up +behind her. + +"You know the old saying, Blanche: a watched-for visitor never comes." + +"Oh dear, why do you depress me, Arnold? To watch is something. I +shall cross the field and look up the road." + +They started off in the sunshine. Blanche had a pretty straw hat on. +She took the arm Mr. Ravensworth held out to her. Very soon, a +stranger turned into the field and came swinging towards them. + +"Blanche, is this the Major?" + +It was a tall, large-limbed, angular man in an old blue cloak lined +with scarlet. He had iron-gray hair and whiskers, gray, hard eyes, a +large twisted nose, and very white teeth. Blanche laughed merrily. + +"That papa! What an idea you must have of him, Arnold! Papa was a +handsome man with black hair, and had lost two of his front teeth. +They were knocked out, fighting with the Caffres." + +The stranger came on, staring intently at the good-looking young man +and the beautiful girl on his arm. Mr. Ravensworth spoke in a low +tone. + +"Are you quite sure, Blanche? Black hair turns gray, remember; and he +has a little travelling portmanteau under that cloak." + +Even as he spoke, something in the stranger's face struck upon Blanche +Heriot's memory. She disengaged herself and approached him, too +agitated to weigh her words. + +"Oh--I beg your pardon--are you not papa?" + +Major Carlen looked at her closely. "Are you Blanche?" + +"Yes, I am Blanche. Oh, papa!" + +The Major tucked his step-daughter under his own arm; and Mr. +Ravensworth went on to give notice of the arrival. + +"Papa, I never saw anyone so much altered!" + +"Nor I," interposed the Major. "I was wondering what deuced handsome +girl was strolling towards me. You are beautiful, Blanche; more so +than your mother was, and she was handsome." + +Blanche, confused though she felt at the compliment, could not return +it. + +"Who is that young fellow?" resumed the Major. + +"Arnold Ravensworth; Mr. Ravensworth's nephew. He lives in London, and +came down yesterday for a short visit." + +"Oh. Does he come often?" + +"Pretty often. We wish it was oftener. We like him to be here." + +"He seems presuming." + +"Dear papa! Presuming! He is not at all so. And he is very talented +and clever. He took honours at Oxford, and--" + +"I see," interrupted Major Carlen, displaying his large and regular +teeth--a habit of his when not pleased. He had rapidly taken up an +idea, and it angered him. "Is this the parson, Blanche? He looks very +sanctimonious." + +"Oh, papa!" she returned, feeling ready to cry at his contemptuous +tone. "He is the best man that ever lived. Everyone loves and respects +him." + +"Hope it's merited, my dear," concluded the Major, as he met the hand +of the Reverend John Ravensworth. + +Ere middle-day, the Major had scattered a small bombshell through the +parsonage by announcing that he had come to take his daughter away. +Blanche felt it bitterly. It was her home, and a happy one. To +exchange it for the Major's did not look now an inviting prospect. +Though she would not acknowledge it to her own heart, she was +beginning to regard him with more awe than love. That the resolution +must have been suddenly formed she knew, for he had not come down with +any intention of removing her. + +"Papa, my things can never be ready," was her last forlorn argument, +when others had failed. + +"Things?" said the Major. "Trunks, and clothes, and rattle-traps? +They can be sent after you, Blanche." + +"I have a bird," cried Blanche, her eyes filling. "There it is, in the +cage." + +"Leave it as a souvenir to the Rectory. Blanche, don't be a child. I +have pictured you as one hitherto, but now that I see you I find my +mistake. You must be thinking of other things, my dear." + +And thus Blanche Heriot was hurried away. All the parsonage escorted +her to the station, the girls in tears, and she almost heart-broken. + +Of late years Major Carlen had been almost always in debt and +difficulty. His property was mortgaged. His only certainty was his +half-pay; but he was lucky at cards, and often luckier at betting. He +retained his club and his visiting connection, and dined out three +parts of his time. Just now he was up in the world, having scored a +prize on some winter racecourse, and he was back in his house in +Gloucester Place. It had been let furnished for three years, portions +of which time the Major had spent abroad. + +"It will be very dull for me, papa," sighed Blanche, as they were +whirling along in an express train. "I dare say you are out all day +long, as you used to be." + +"Not dull at all," said the Major. "You must make Mrs. Guy take you +out and about." + +"Mrs. Guy!" exclaimed Blanche, her blue eyes opening widely. "Is she +in London?" + +"Yes, and a fine old guy she is; more ridiculously nervous than ever," +replied the Major. "She arrived unexpectedly from Jersey one evening +last week, and quartered herself upon Gloucester Place; for an +indefinite period, no doubt. She did this once before, if you +remember, in your poor mamma's time." + +"She will be something in the way of company for me," said Blanche +with another sigh. + +"Aye! She is a stupid goose, but you'll be safer under her wing and +mine than you would have been ruralising in the fields and the +parsonage garden with that Arnold Ravensworth. I have eyes, Miss +Blanche." + +So had Blanche, especially just then; and they were wide open and +fixed upon the Major. + +"Doing what, papa?" cried she. + +"I saw his drift: 'Blanche' this, and 'Blanche' the other, and his arm +put out for you at every turn! No, no; I do not leave you there to be +converted into Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth." + +Blanche clasped her hands and broke into merry laughter. "Oh, papa, +what an idea!--how could you imagine it? Why, he is going to marry +Mary Stopford." + +Major Carlen looked blank. Had he made all this inconvenient haste for +nothing? + +"Who the deuce is Mary Stopford?" + +"She lives in Devonshire. A pale, gentle girl with nice eyes: I have +seen her picture. Arnold wears it attached to a little chain inside +his waistcoat. They are to be married in the autumn when the House is +up. The very notion of my marrying Arnold Ravensworth!" broke off +Blanche with another laugh. A laugh that was quite sufficient to prove +the fact that she was heart-whole. + +"The House!" repeated the Major. "Who is he, then?" + +"He is very well off as to fortune, and is--something. It has to do +with the House, not as a Member, though he will be that soon, I +believe. I think he is secretary to one of the Ministers. His father +was the elder brother, and the Reverend John Ravensworth the younger. +There is a very great difference in their positions. Arnold is +well-off, and said to be a rising man." + +Every word increased Major Carlen's vexation. Even had his fear been +correct, it seemed that the young man would not have been an +undesirable match for Blanche, and he had saddled himself with her at +a most inconvenient moment! + +"Well, well," thought he; "she will soon make her mark, unless I am +mistaken, and there's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of +it." + +Mrs. Guy, widow of the late Admiral Guy, vegetating for years past +upon her slight income in Jersey, was Major Carlen's younger sister, +and a smaller edition of himself. She had the same generally +fair-featured face, with the twisted nose and the gray eyes; but while +his eyes were hard and fierce, hers were soft and kindly. She was a +well-meaning, but indescribably silly woman; and her nervous fears and +fancies had so grown upon her that they were becoming a disease. Lying +before the fire on a sofa in her bedroom, she received Blanche with a +flood of tears, supplemented by several moans. The tears were caused +by the pleased surprise; the moans at her having come home on a +Friday, for that must surely betoken ill-luck. Blanche was irreverent +enough to laugh. + + * * * * * + +Major Carlen still counted a few acquaintances of consideration in the +social world, and Miss Heriot was introduced to them. Mrs. Guy was +persuaded to temporarily forget her ailments, and to act as chaperon. +The Major gave his sister a new dress and bonnet, and a cap or two; +and as she had not yet quite done with vanity (has a woman _ever_ done +with it?), she fell before the bribe. + +He had been right in his opinion that Blanche's beauty would not fail +to make its mark. So charming a girl, so lovely of face and graceful +of form, so innocent of guile, had not been seen of late. Before the +spring had greatly advanced, a Captain Cross made proposals for her to +the Major. He was of excellent family, and offered fair settlements. +The Major accepted him, not deeming it at all necessary to consult his +daughter. + +Blanche rebelled. "I don't care for him, papa," she objected. + +The Major gave his nose a twist. He did not intend to have any trouble +with Blanche, and would not allow her to begin it. + +"Not care!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What does that matter? Captain +Cross is a fine man, stands six feet one, and you'll care for him in +time." + +"But, before I consent to marry him, I ought to know whether I shall +like him or not." + +"Blanche, you are a dunce! You have been smothered up in that +parsonage till you know nothing. Do you suppose that in our class of +society it is usual to fall in love, as the ploughboys and milkmaids +do? People marry first, and grow accustomed to each other afterwards. +Whatever you do, my dear, don't betray _gaucherie_ of that kind." + +Blanche Heriot doubted. She never supposed but that he whom she called +father had her true interest at heart, and must be so acting. Mrs. +Guy, too, unconsciously swayed her. A martyr to poverty herself, she +believed that in marrying one so well-off as Captain Cross, a girl +must enter upon the seventh heaven of happiness. Altogether, Blanche +yielded; yielded against her inclination and her better judgment. She +consented to marry Captain Cross, and preparations were begun. + +Meanwhile, Arnold Ravensworth had been an occasional visitor at Major +Carlen's, the Major making no sort of objection, now that +circumstances were explained: indeed, he encouraged him there, and was +especially cordial. Major Carlen had invariably one eye on the world +and the other on self-interest, and it occurred to him that a rising +man, as Arnold Ravensworth beyond doubt was, might prove useful to him +in one way or another. + +One evening, when it was yet only the beginning of April, Mr. +Ravensworth called in Gloucester Place, and found the Major alone. + +"Are Mrs. Guy and Blanche out?" he asked. + +"They are upstairs with the dressmaker," replied the Major. "We sent +to her to-day to spur on with Blanche's things, and she has come +to-night for fresh orders." + +"Is the marriage being hurried on, Major?" + +"Time is creeping on, sir," was the gruff answer. + +"Are they getting ahead with the settlements? When I saw you last +week, you were in a way at the delay, and said lawyers had only been +invented for one's torment." + +"They got on, after that, and the deeds were ready and waiting for +signature. But I dropped them a note yesterday to say they might burn +them, as so much waste paper," returned the Major. + +"Burn the settlements!" echoed Mr. Ravensworth. + +The Major's eyes, that could look pleasant on occasion, glinted at his +astonishment. "Those settlements are being replaced by heavier ones," +he said. "Blanche does not marry Captain Cross. It's off. A more +eligible offer has been made her, and Cross is dismissed." + +Mr. Ravensworth doubted whether he heard aright. Major Carlen resumed. +"And she was making herself miserable over it. She cannot endure +Cross." + +"What a disappointment for Cross! What a mortification! Will he accept +his dismissal?" + +"He will be obliged to accept it," returned the Major, pulling up his +shirt-collar, which was always high enough for two. "He has no other +choice left to him. A man does not die of love nowadays; or rush into +an action for breach of promise, and become a laughing-stock at his +club. Blanche marries Lord Level." + +"Lord Level!" Mr. Ravensworth repeated in a curious accent. + +"You look as though you doubted the information." + +"I do not relish it, for your daughter's sake," replied Mr. +Ravensworth. "She never can--can--like Lord Level." + +"What's the matter with Lord Level? He may be approaching forty, +but----" + +Mr. Ravensworth laughed. "Not just yet, Major Carlen." + +"Well, say he's thirty-four; thirty-three, if you like. Blanche, at +twenty, needs guiding. And if he is not as rich as some peers, he is +ten times richer than Cross. He met Blanche out, and came dangling +here after her. I did not give a thought to it, for I did not look +upon Level as a marrying man: he has been somewhat talked of in +another line----" + +"Yes," emphatically interrupted Mr. Ravensworth. "Well?" + +"Well!" irritably returned the Major: "then there's so much the more +credit due to him for settling down. When he found that Cross was +really expecting to have Blanche, and that he might lose her +altogether, he spoke up, and said he should like her himself." + +"Does Blanche approve of the exchange?" + +"She was rather inclined to kick at it," returned the Major, in his +respectable phraseology, "and we had a few tears.--But if you ask +questions in that sarcastic tone, sir, you don't deserve to be +answered. Not that Blanche wanted to keep Cross; she acknowledged +that she was only too thankful to be rid of him; but, about behaving +dishonourably, as she called it. 'My dear,' said I, 'there's your +absurd rusticity coming in again. You don't know the world. Such +things are done in high life every day.' She believed me, and was +reconciled. You look black as a thunder-cloud, Ravensworth. What right +have you to do so, pray?" + +"None in the world. I beg pardon. I was thinking of Blanche's +happiness." + +"You had better think of her good," retorted the Major. "She likes +Level. I don't say she is yet in love with him: but she did not like +Cross. Level is an attractive man, remember." + +"Has been rather too much so," cynically retorted Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Here she comes. I am going out; so you may offer your congratulations +at leisure." + +Major Carlen went away, and Blanche entered. She took her seat by the +fire, and as Mr. Ravensworth gazed down upon her, a feeling of deep +regret and pity came over him. Shame! thought he, to sacrifice her to +Level. For in truth that nobleman's name was not in the best odour, +and Arnold Ravensworth was a man of strict notions. + +It has been asserted that some natures possess an affinity the one for +the other; are irresistibly drawn together in the repose of full and +perfect confidence. It is a mysterious affinity, not born of _love_: +and it may be experienced by two men or women who have outlived even +the remembrance of the passion. Had Blanche Heriot been offered to +Arnold Ravensworth, he would have declined her, for he loved another, +and she had as much idea of loving the man in the moon as of loving +him. Nevertheless, that never-dying, unfathomable part of them, the +spirit, was attracted, like finding like. Between such, there can be +little reserve. + +"What unexpected changes take place, Blanche!" + +"Do not blame me," she replied, with a rising colour, her tone +sinking to a whisper. "My father says it is right, and I obey him." + +"I hope you like Lord Level?" + +"Better than I liked someone else," was her answer, as she looked into +the fire. "At first the--the change frightened me. It did not seem +right, and it was so very sudden. But I am getting over that feeling +now. Papa says he is very good." + +Papa says he is very good! The old hypocrite of a Major! thought Mr. +Ravensworth. But it was not his place to tell her that Lord Level had +not been very good. + +"Oh, Blanche!" he exclaimed, "I hope you will be happy! Is it to be +soon?" + +"Yes, they say so. As soon, I think, as the settlements can be ready. +Papa sent to-day to hurry on my wedding things. Lord Level is going +abroad immediately, and wishes to take me with him." + +"They say so!" was his mental repetition. "This poor child, brought up +in the innocence of her simple country home, more childish, more +tractable and obedient, more inexperienced than are those of less +years who have lived in the world, is as a puppet in their hands. But +the awakening will come." + +"You are going?" said Blanche, as he rose. "Will you not stay and take +tea? Mrs. Guy will be down soon." + +"Not this evening. Hark! here is the Major back again." + +"I do not think it is papa's step," returned Blanche, bending her ear +to listen. + +It was not. As she spoke, the door was thrown open by the servant. +"Lord Level." + +Lord Level entered, and took the hand which Mr. Ravensworth released. +Mr. Ravensworth looked full at the peer as he passed him: they were +not acquainted. A handsome man, with a somewhat free expression--a +countenance that Mr. Ravensworth took forthwith a prejudice against, +perhaps unjustly. "Who's that, Blanche?" he heard him say as the +servant closed the door. + +Lord Level was a fine, powerful man, of good height and figure; his +dark auburn hair was wavy and worn rather long, in accordance with +the fashion of the day. His complexion was fair and fresh, and his +features were good. Altogether he was what the Major had called him, +an attractive man. Blanche Heriot had danced with him and he had +danced with her; the one implies the other, you will say; and a liking +for one another had sprung up. It may not have been love on either +side as yet--but that is uncertain. + +"How lovely!" exclaimed Blanche, as he held out to her a small bouquet +of lilies-of-the-valley, and their sweet perfume caught her senses. + +"I brought them for you," whispered Lord Level; and he bent his face +nearer and took a silent kiss from her lips. It was the first time; +and Blanche blushed consciously. + +"You did not tell me who that was, Blanche." + +"Arnold Ravensworth," she replied. "You have heard me speak of him." + +"An ill-tempered looking man!" + +"Do you think so? Well, yes, perhaps he did look cross to-night. He +had been hearing about--about _us_--from papa; and I suppose it did +not please him." + +Archibald Baron Level drew himself up to his full height; his face +assumed its haughtiest expression. "What business is it of his?" he +asked. "Does he wish to aspire to you himself?" + +"Oh, no, no; he is soon to be married. He is a man of strict honour, +and I fear he thinks that papa--that I--that we have not behaved well +to Captain Cross." + +They were standing side by side on the hearth-rug, the fire-light +playing on them and on Blanche's shrinking face. How miserably +uncomfortable the subject of Captain Cross made her she could never +tell. + +"See here, Blanche," spoke Lord Level, after a pause. "I was given to +understand by Major Carlen that when Captain Cross proposed for you, +you refused him; that it was only by dint of pressure and persuasion +that you consented to the engagement. Major Carlen told me that as the +time went on you became so miserable under it, hating Captain Cross +with a greater dislike day by day, that he had resolved before I spoke +_to save you by breaking it off_. Was this the case, or not?" + +"Yes, it was. It is true that I felt wretchedly miserable in the +prospect of marrying Captain Cross. And oh, how I thank papa for +having himself resolved to break it off! He did not tell me that." + +"Because I have some honour of my own; and I would not take you +sneakingly from Cross, or any other man. You must come to me +above-board in all ways, Blanche, or not at all." + +Blanche felt her heart beating. She turned to glance at him, fearing +what he might mean. + +"So that if there is anything behind the scenes which has been kept +from me; that is, if it be not of your own good and free will +that you marry me; if you gave up Captain Cross _liking_ him, +because--because--well, though I feel ashamed to suggest such a +thing--because my rank may be somewhat higher than his, or for any +other reason: why then matters had better be at an end between us. No +harm will have been done, Blanche." + +Blanche's face was drawn and white. "Do you mean that you wish to give +me up?" + +"_Wish_ it! It would be the greatest pain I could ever know in life. +My dear, have you failed to understand me? I want you; I want you to +be my wife; but not at the sacrifice of my honour. If Captain +Cross----" + +Blanche broke down. "Oh, _don't_ leave me to him!" she implored. "Of +course, I could never, never marry him now; I would rather die. +Indeed, I do not quite know what you mean. It was all just as you have +been told by papa; there was nothing kept behind." + +Lord Level pillowed her head upon his arm. "Blanche, my dear, it was +you who invoked this," he whispered, "by talking of Mr. Ravensworth's +reflection on you in his 'strict honour.' Be assured I would not leave +you to Captain Cross unless compelled to do so, or to any other man." + +Her tears were falling. Lord Level kissed them away. + +"Shall I _buy_ you, my love?--bind you to me with a golden fetter?" +And, taking a small case from his waistcoat-pocket, he slipped upon +her marriage finger a hoop of gold, studded with diamonds. His +deep-gray eyes were strained upon her through their dark lashes--eyes +which had done mischief in their day--and her hand was lingering in +his. + +"There, Blanche; you see I have bought you; you are my property +now--my very own. And, my dear, the ring must be worn always as the +keeper of the marriage-ring when you shall be my wife." + +It was a most exquisite relief to her. Blanche liked him far better +than she had liked Captain Cross. And as Lord Level pressed his last +kiss upon her lips--for Mrs. Guy was heard approaching--Blanche could +never be sure that she did not return it. + +A few more interviews such as these, and the young lady would be in +love with him heart and soul. + + * * * * * + +And it may as well be mentioned, ere the chapter quite closes, that +Mr. Charles Strange was out of the way of all this plotting and +planning and love-making. The whole of that spring he was over in +Paris, watching a case involving English and French interests of +importance, that was on before the French courts, and of which +Brightman and Strange were the English solicitors. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +TRIED AT THE OLD BAILEY. + + +"Oh, Mrs. Guy, he is coming, after all! He is indeed!" + +Blanche Heriot's joyful tones, as she read the contents of a short +letter brought in by the evening post, aroused old Mrs. Guy, who was +dozing over her knitting one Tuesday evening in the May twilight. + +"Eh? What, my dear? Who do you say is coming?" + +"Tom. He says he must stretch a point for once. He cannot let anyone +else give me away." + +"The Major is to give you away, Blanche." + +"I know he intended to do so if Tom failed me. But Tom is my brother." + +"Well, well, child; settle it amongst yourselves. I don't see that it +matters one way or the other. There's a knock at the door! Dear me! It +must be Lord Level." + +"Lord Level cannot be back again before to-morrow. He is at Marshdale, +you know," dissented Blanche. "I think it may be Tom. I hope it is +Tom. He says here he shall be in town as soon as his letter." + +"Mr. Strange," announced a servant, throwing wide the drawing-room +door. + +Charles Strange had only that morning returned from Paris, having +crossed by the night mail. The legal business on which he and Mr. +Brightman were just now so much occupied, involving serious matters +for a client who lived in Paris, had kept Charles over there nearly +all the spring. Blanche ran to his arms. She looked upon him as her +brother, quite as much as she looked upon Tom. + +"And so, Blanche, we are to lose you," he said, when he had kissed +her. "And within a day or two, I hear." + +He knew very little of Blanche Heriot's approaching marriage, except +that the bridegroom was Archibald, Lord Level. And that little he had +heard from Mr. Brightman. Blanche did not write to him about it. She +had written to tell him she was going to be married to Captain Cross: +but when that marriage was summarily broken off by Major Carlen, +Blanche felt a little ashamed, and did not send word to Charles. + +"The day after to-morrow, at eleven o'clock in the morning," put in +Mrs. Guy, in response to the last remark. + +All his attention given to Blanche, Charles Strange really had not +observed the old lady. He turned to regard her. + +"You cannot have forgotten Mrs. Guy, Charles," said Blanche, noticing +his doubtful look. + +"I believe I had for the moment," he answered, in those pleasant, +cordial tones that won him a way with everyone, as he went up and +shook the old lady heartily by both hands. "I heard you were staying +here, Mrs. Guy, but I had forgotten it." + +They sat down--Blanche and Charles near the open window, Mrs. Guy not +moving from her low easy-chair on the hearthrug--and began to talk of +the wedding. + +"Tom is really coming up to give me away," said Blanche, showing him +Captain Heriot's short note. "It is _very_ good of him, for he must be +very busy: but Tom was always good. You are aware, Charles, I suppose, +that the regiment is embarking for India? Major Carlen saw the +announcement this morning in the _Times_." + +At that moment Charles Strange saw, or fancied he saw, a warning look +telegraphed to him by Mrs. Guy: and, placing it in conjunction with +Blanche's words, he fancied he must know its meaning. + +"Yes, I heard the regiment was ordered out," he answered shortly; and +turned the subject. "Will Lord Level be here tonight, Blanche? I +should like to see him." + +"No," she replied. "He went yesterday to Marshdale House, his place in +Surrey, and will not return until to-morrow. I think you will like +him, Charles." + +"I hope you do," replied Charles involuntarily. "That is the chief +consideration, Blanche." + +He looked at her meaningly as he spoke, and it brought a blush to her +face. What a lovely face it was--fair and pure, its blue eyes haughty +as of yore, its golden hair brilliant and abundant! She wore a simple +evening dress of white muslin, and a blue sash, an inexpensive +necklace of twisted blue beads on her neck, no bracelets at all on her +arms. She looked what she really was--an inexperienced school-girl. +Lord Level's engagement ring on her finger, with its flashing +diamonds, was the only ornament of value she had about her. + +In the momentary silence that ensued, Blanche left her seat and went +to stand at the open window. + +"Oh," she exclaimed, an instant later, "I do think this may be Tom! A +cab has stopped here." + +Charles Strange rose. Mrs. Guy lifted her finger, and he bent down to +her. Blanche was still at the window. + +"She does not know he has sold out," warningly breathed Mrs. Guy. "She +knows nothing of his wild ways, or the fine market he has brought his +eggs to, poor fellow. We have kept it from her." + +Charles nodded; and the servant opened the door with another +announcement. + +"Captain Heriot." Blanche flew across the room and was locked in her +brother's arms. + +Poor Tom Heriot had indeed, as Mrs. Guy expressed it, with more force +than elegance, brought his eggs to a fine market. It was some few +months now since he sold out of the Army; and what he was doing and +how he contrived to exist and flourish without money, his friends did +not know. During the spring he had made his appearance in Paris to +prefer an appeal for help to Charles, and Charles had answered it to +the extent of his power. + +Just as gay, just as light-hearted, just as _débonnaire_ as ever was +Tom Heriot. To see him and to hear him as he sat this evening with +them in Gloucester Place, you might have thought him as free from care +as an Eton boy--as flourishing as a duke-royal. Little blame to +Blanche that she suspected nothing of the existing state of things. + +When Charles rose to say "Good-night," Tom Heriot said it also, and +they went away together. + +"Charley, lad," said the latter, as the street-door closed behind +them, "could you put me up at your place for two nights--until after +this wedding is over?" + +"To be sure I can. Leah will manage it." + +"All right. I have sent a portmanteau there." + +"You did not come up from Southampton to-day, Tom? Blanche thought you +did." + +"And I am much obliged to them for allowing her to think it. I would +have staked my last five-pound note, if you'll believe me, Charley, +that old Carlen had not as much good feeling in him. I am vegetating +in London; have been for some time, Blanche's letter was forwarded to +me by a comrade who lets me use his address." + +"And what are you doing in London?" asked Charles. + +"Hiding my 'diminished head,' old fellow," answered Tom, with a laugh. +No matter how serious the subject, he could not be serious over it. + +"How much longer do you mean to stand here?" continued Charles--for +the Captain (people still gave him his title) had not moved from the +door. + +"Till an empty cab goes by." + +"We don't want a cab this fine night, Tom. Let us walk. Look how +bright the moon is up there." + +"Ay; my lady's especially bright tonight. Rather too much so for +people who prefer the shade. How you stare, Charley! Fact is, I feel +safer inside a cab just now than parading the open streets." + +"Afraid of being taken for debt?" whispered Charles. + +"Worse than that," said Tom laconically. + +"Worse than that!" repeated Charles. "Why, what do you mean?" + +"Oh, nothing," and Tom Heriot laughed again. "Except that I am in the +deuce's own mess, and can't easily get out of it. There's a cab! Here, +driver! In with you, Charley." + + * * * * * + +And on the following Thursday, when his sister's marriage with Lord +Level took place, who so gay, who so free from care, who so attractive +as Tom Heriot?--when giving her away. Lord Level had never before seen +his future brother-in-law (or _half_ brother-in-law, as the more +correct term would be), and was agreeably taken with him. A random +young fellow, no doubt, given to playing the mischief with his own +prospects, but a thorough gentleman, and a very prepossessing one. + +"And this is my other brother--I have always called him so," whispered +Blanche to her newly-made husband, as she presented Charles Strange to +him on their return from church to Gloucester Place. Lord Level shook +hands heartily; and Charles, who had been prejudiced against his +lordship, of whom tales were told, took rather a liking to the tall, +fine man of commanding presence, of handsome face and easy, genial +manners. + +After the breakfast, to which very few guests were bidden, and at +which Mrs. Guy presided, as well as her nerves permitted, at one end +of the table and Major Carlen at the other, Lord and Lady Level +departed for Dover on their way to the Continent. + +And in less than a week after the wedding, poor Thomas Heriot, who +could not do an unkind action, who never had been anyone's enemy in +the whole world, and never would be anyone's, except his own, was +taken into custody on a criminal charge. + +The blow came upon Charles Strange as a clap of thunder. That Tom was +in a mess of some kind he knew well; nay, in half a dozen messes most +likely; but he never glanced at anything so terrible as this. Tom had +fenced with his questions during the day or two he stayed in Essex +Street, and laughed them off. What the precise charge was, Charles +could not learn at the first moment. Some people said felony, some +whispered forgery. By dint of much exertion and inquiry, he at last +knew that it was connected with "Bills." + +Certain bills had been put into circulation by Thomas Heriot, and +there was something wrong about them. At least, about one of them; +since it bore the signature of a man who had never seen the bill. + +"I am as innocent of it as a child unborn," protested Thomas Heriot to +Charles, more solemnly in earnest than he had ever been heard to +speak. "True, I got the bills discounted: accommodation bills, you +understand, and they were to have been provided for; but that any +good name had been _forged_ to one of them, I neither knew nor dreamt +of." + +"Yet you knew the good name was there?" + +"But I thought it had been genuinely obtained." + +This was at the first interview Charles held with him in prison. +"Whence did you get the bills?" Charles continued. + +"They were handed to me by Anstey. He is the true culprit in all this, +Charles, and he is slinking out of it, and will get off scot-free. +People warned me against the fellow; said he was making a cat's-paw of +me; and by Jove it's true! I could not see it then, but my eyes are +open now. He only made use of me for his own purposes. He had all, or +nearly all, the money." + +And this was just the truth of the business. The man Anstey, a +gentleman once, but living by his wits for many years past, had got +hold of light-headed, careless Tom Heriot, cajoled him of his +friendship, and _used_ him. Anstey escaped completely "scot-free," +and Tom suffered. + +Tom was guilty in the eyes of the law; and the law only takes +cognizance of its own hard requirements. After examination, he was +committed for trial. Charles Strange was nearly wild with distress; +Mr. Brightman was much concerned; Arthur Lake (who was now called to +the Bar) would have moved heaven and earth in the cause. Away went +Charles to Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar: and that renowned special pleader +and good-hearted man threw his best energies into the cause. + +All in vain. At the trial, which shortly came on at the Old Bailey, +Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar exerted his quiet but most telling eloquence +uselessly. He might as well have wasted it on the empty air. Though +indeed it did effect something, causing the sentence pronounced upon +the unfortunate prisoner to be more lenient than it otherwise would +have been. Thomas Heriot was sentenced to be transported for seven +years. + +Transportation beyond the seas was still in force then. And Thomas +Heriot, with a cargo of greater or lesser criminals, was shipped on +board the transport _Vengeance_, to be conveyed to Botany Bay. + +It seemed to have taken up such a little space of time! Very little, +compared with the greatness of the trouble. June had hardly come in +when Tom was first taken; and the _Vengeance_ sailed the beginning of +August. + +If Mrs. Guy had lamented beforehand the market that poor Tom Heriot +had "brought his eggs to," what did she think of it now? + + * * * * * + +One evening in October a nondescript sort of vehicle, the German +makers of which could alone know the name, arrived at a small village +not far from the banks of the Rhine, clattering into the yard of the +only inn the place contained. A gentleman and lady descended from it, +and a parley ensued with the hostess, more protracted than it might +have been, in consequence of the travellers' imperfect German, and +her own imperfect French. Could madame accommodate them for the night, +was the substance of their demand. + +"Well--yes," was madame's not very assured answer: "if they could put +up with a small bedroom." + +"How small?" + +She opened the door of--it was certainly not a room, though it might +be slightly larger than a boot-closet; madame called it a +cabinet-de-toilette. It was on the ground-floor, looking into the +yard, and contained a bed, into which one person might have crept, +provided he bargained with himself not to turn; but two people, never. +Three of her beds were taken up with a milor and miladi Anglais, and +their attendants. + +Mrs. Ravensworth--a young wife--turned to her husband, and spoke in +English. "Arnold, what can we do? We cannot go on in the dark, with +such roads as these." + +"My love, I see only one thing for it: you must sleep here, and I +must sit up." + +Madame interrupted; it appeared she added a small stock of English to +her other acquirements. "Oh, but dat meeseraable for monsieur: he +steef in legs for morning." + +"And stiff in arms too," laughed Arnold Ravensworth. "Do try and find +us a larger bedroom." + +"Perhaps the miladi Anglaise might give up one of her rooms for dis +one," debated the hostess, bustling away to ask. + +She returned, followed by an unmistakable Englishwoman, fine both in +dress and speech. Was _she_ the miladi? She talked enough for one: +vowing she would never give up her room to promiscuous travellers, who +prowled about with no _avant courier_, taking their own chance of +rooms and beds; and casting, as she spoke, annihilating glances at the +benighted wanderers. + +"Is anything the matter, Timms?" inquired a gentle voice in the +background. + +Mr. Ravensworth turned round quickly, for its tones struck upon his +remembrance. There stood Blanche, Lady Level; and their hands +simultaneously met in surprise and pleasure. + +"Oh, this is unexpected!" she exclaimed. "I never should have thought +of seeing you in this remote place. Are you alone?" + +He drew his wife to his side. "I need not say who she is, Lady Level." + +"Are you married, then?" + +"Ask Mary." + +It was an unnecessary question, seeing her there with him, and Lady +Level felt it to be so, and smiled. Timms came forward with an +elaborate apology and a string of curtseys, and hoped her room would +be found good enough to be honoured by any friends of my lady's. + +Lady Level's delight at seeing them seemed as unrestrained as a +child's. Exiles from their native land can alone tell that to meet +with home faces in a remote spot is grateful as the long-denied water +to the traveller in the Eastern desert. And we are writing of days +when to travel abroad was the exception, rather than the rule. "There +is only one private sitting-room in the whole house, and that is mine, +so you must perforce make it yours as well," cried Lady Level, as she +laughingly led the way to it. "And oh! what a charming break it will +be to my loneliness! Last night I cried till bedtime." + +"Is not Lord Level with you?" inquired Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Lord Level is in England. While they are getting Timms' room ready, +will you come into mine?" she added to Mrs. Ravensworth. + +"How long have you been married?" was Lady Level's first question as +they entered it. + +"Only last Tuesday week." + +"Are you happy?" + +"Oh yes." + +"I knew your husband long before you did," added Lady Level. "Did he +ever tell you so? Did he ever tell you what good friends we were? +Closer friends, I think, than he and his cousin Cecilia. He used to +come to White Littleham Rectory, and we girls there made much of him." + +"Yes, he has often told me." + +Mrs. Ravensworth was arranging her hair at the glass, and Lady Level +held the light for her and looked on. The description given of her by +Blanche to her father was a very good one. A pale, gentle girl, with +nice eyes, dark, inexpressively soft and attractive. "I shall like you +very much," suddenly exclaimed Lady Level. "I think you are very +pretty--I mean, you have the sort of face I like to look at." Praise +that brought a blush to the cheeks of Mrs. Ravensworth. + +The landlady sent them in the best supper she could command at the +hour; mutton chops, served German fashion, and soup, which Lady +Level's man-servant, Sanders, who waited on them, persisted in calling +the potash--and very watery potash it was, flavoured with cabbage. +When the meal was over, and the cloth removed, they drew round the +fire. + +"Do you ever see papa?" Lady Level inquired of Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Now and then. Not often. He has let his house again in Gloucester +Place, and Mrs. Guy has gone back to the Channel Islands." + +"Oh yes, I know all that," replied Blanche. + +"The last time I saw Major Carlen he spoke of you--said that you and +Lord Level were making a protracted stay abroad." + +"Protracted!" Blanche returned bitterly; "yes, it is protracted. I +long to be back in England, with a longing that has now grown into a +disease. You have heard of the _mal du pays_ that sometimes attacks +the Swiss when they are away from their native land; I think that same +malady has attacked me." + +"But why?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, looking at her. + +"I hardly know," she said, with some hesitation. "I had never been out +of England before, and everything was strange to me. We went to +Switzerland first, then on to Italy, then back again. The longer we +stayed away from England, the greater grew my yearning for it. In +Savoy I was ill; yes, I was indeed; we were at Chambéry; so ill as to +require medical advice. It was on the mind, the doctor said. He was a +nice old man, and told Lord Level that I was pining for my native +country." + +"Then, of course, you left for home at once?" + +"We left soon, but we travelled like snails; halting days at one +place, and days at another. Oh, I was so sick of it! And the places +were all dull and retired, as this is; not those usually frequented by +the English. At last we arrived here; to stay also, it appeared. When +I asked why we did not go on, he said he was waiting for letters from +home." + +As Lady Level spoke she appeared to be lost in the past--an expression +that you may have observed in old people when they are telling you +tales of their youth. Her eyes were fixed on vacancy, and it was +evident that she saw nothing of the objects around her, only the time +gone by. She appeared to be anything but happy. + +"Something up between my lord and my lady," thought Mr. Ravensworth. +"Had your husband to wait long for the expected letters?" he asked +aloud. + +"I do not know: several came for him. One morning he had one that +summoned him to England without the loss of a moment, and he said +there was not time for me to be ready to accompany him. I prayed to go +with him. I said Timms could come on afterwards with the luggage. It +was of no use." + +"Would he not take you?" exclaimed Mrs. Ravensworth, her eyes full of +the astonishment her lips would not express. + +Blanche shook her head. "No. He was quite angry with me; said I did +not understand my position--that noblemen's wives could not travel in +that unceremonious manner. I was on the point of telling him that I +wished, to my heart, I had never been a nobleman's wife. Why did he +marry me, unless he could look upon me as a companion and friend?" +abruptly continued Lady Level, perhaps forgetting that she was not +alone. "He treats me as a child." + +What answer could be made to this? + +"When do you expect him back again?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, after a +pause. + +"How do I know?" flashed Lady Level, her tone proving how +inexpressibly sore was the subject. "He said he should return for me +in a few days, but nearly three weeks have gone by, and I am still +here. They have seemed to me like three months. I shall be ill if it +goes on much longer." + +"Of course you hear from him?" + +"Oh yes, I hear from him. A few lines at a time, saying he will come +for me as soon as he possibly can, and that I must not be impatient. I +wanted to go over alone, and he returned me such an answer, asking +what I meant by wishing to travel with servants only at my age. I +shall do something desperate if I am left here another week." + +"As you once did at White Littleham when they forbade your going to a +concert, thinking you were too ill!" laughed Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Dressed myself up in my best frock, and surprised them in the room. I +had ten pages of Italian translation for that escapade." + +"Do you like Italy?" he inquired, after a pause. + +"No, I hate it!" And the animus in Lady Level's answer was so intense +that the husband and wife exchanged stolen glances. _Something_ must +be out of gear. + +"What parts of Italy did you stay in?" + +"Chiefly at Pisa--that is not far from Florence, you know; and a few +days at Florence. Lord Level took a villa at Pisa for a month--and why +he did so I could not tell, for it was not the season when the +English frequent it: no one, so to say, was there. We made the +acquaintance of a Mrs. Page Reid, who had the next villa to ours." + +"That was pleasant for you--if you liked her." + +"But I did not like her," returned Lady Level, her delicate cheeks +flushing. "That is, I did and I did not. She was a very pleasant +woman, always ready to help us in any way; but she told dreadful tales +of people--making one suspect things that otherwise would never have +entered the imagination. Lord Level liked her at first, and ended by +disliking her." + +"Got up a flirtation with her," thought Mr. Ravensworth. But in that +he was mistaken. And so they talked on. + +It appeared that the mail passed through the village at night time; +and the following morning a letter lay on the breakfast-table for Lady +Level. + + MY DEAR BLANCHE,--I have met with a slight accident, and must + again postpone coming to you for a few days. I dare say it + will not detain me very long. Rely upon it I shall be with you + as soon as I possibly can be.--Ever affectionately yours, + LEVEL. + +"Short and sweet!" exclaimed Blanche, in her bitter disappointment, as +she read the note at the window. "Arnold, when you and your wife leave +to-morrow, what will become of me, alone here? If----" + +Suddenly, as Lady Level spoke the last word, she started, and began to +creep away from the window, as if fearing to be seen. + +"Arnold! Arnold! who do you think is out there?" she exclaimed in a +timid whisper. + +"Why, who?" in astonishment. "Not Lord Level?" + +"It is Captain Cross," she said with a shiver. "I would rather meet +the whole world than him. My behaviour to him was--was not right; and +I have felt ashamed of myself ever since." + +Mr. Ravensworth looked out from the window. Captain Cross, seated on +the bench in the inn yard, was solacing himself with a cigar. + +"I would not meet him for the world! I would not let him see me: he +might make a scene. I shall stay in my rooms all day. Why does my +husband leave me to such chances as these?" + +That Captain Cross had not been well used was certain; but the fault +lay with Major Carlen, not with Blanche. Mr. Ravensworth spoke. + +"Take my advice, Lady Level. Do not place yourself in Captain Cross's +way, but do not run from him. I believe him to be a gentleman; and, if +so, he will not say or do anything to annoy you. I will take care he +does not, as long as I remain here." + +In the course of the morning Captain Cross and Arnold Ravensworth met. +"I find Lady Level's here!" the Captain abruptly exclaimed. "Are you +staying with her?" + +"I and my wife arrived here only last night, and were surprised to +meet Lady Level." + +"Where's _he_?" asked Captain Cross. + +"In England." + +"He in England and she here, and only six months married! Estranged, I +suppose. Well, what else could she expect? People mostly reap what +they sow." + +Arnold Ravensworth laughed good-humouredly. _He_ was not going to give +a hint of the state of affairs that he suspected himself. + +"You are prejudiced, Cross. Miss Heriot was not to blame for what +happened. She was a child: and they did with her as they pleased." + +"A child! Old enough to engage herself to one man, and to marry +another," retorted Captain Cross, in a burst of angry feeling. "And +Level, of all people!"--with sarcastic scorn. "Why does he leave her +in Germany whilst he stays gallivanting in England? What do you say? +Met with an accident, and _can't_ come for her? That's _his_ tale, I +suppose. You may repeat it to the Marines, old boy; it won't do for +me. _I_ know Level; knew him of old." + +Lady Level was as good as her word: she did not stir out of her rooms +all day. On the following morning when Mr. Ravensworth came out of his +chamber, he saw, from the corridor window, a travelling-carriage in +the yard, packed. By the coat-of-arms he knew it for Lord Level's. +Timms moved towards him in a flutter of delight. + +"Oh, if you please, sir, breakfast is on the table, and my lady is +waiting there, ready dressed. We are going to England, sir." + +"Has Lord Level come?" + +"No, sir: we are going with you. My lady gave orders, last night, to +pack up for home. It is the happiest day I've known, sir, since I set +foot in these barbarious countries." + +Lady Level met him at the door of the breakfast-room; "ready dressed," +as Timms expressed it, for travelling, even to her bonnet. + +"Do you really mean to go with us?" he exclaimed. + +"Yes," was her decisive reply. "That is, you must go with me. Stay +here longer, I will not. I tell you, Arnold, I am sick to death of it. +If Lord Level is ill and unable to come for me, I am glad to embrace +the opportunity of travelling under your protection: he can't grumble +at that. Besides----" + +"Besides what?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, for she suddenly stopped. + +"I do not choose to remain at an inn in which Captain Cross has taken +up his abode: neither would my husband wish me to do so. After you and +Mrs. Ravensworth left me last night, I sat over the wood fire, +thinking these things over, and made my mind up. If I have not +sufficient money for the journey, and I don't think I have, I must +apply to you, Arnold." + +Whether Mr. Ravensworth approved or disapproved of the decision, he +had no power to alter it. Or, rather, whether Lord Level would approve +of it. After a hasty breakfast, they went down to the carriage, which +had already its array of five horses harnessed to it; Sanders and +Timms perched side-by-side in their seat aloft. The two ladies were +helped in by Mr. Ravensworth. Captain Cross leaned against the outer +wall of the _salle-à-manger_, watching the departure. He approached +Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Am I driving her ladyship off?" + +"Lady Level is going to England with us, to join her husband. I told +you he had met with an accident." + +"A merry meeting to them!" was the sarcastic rejoinder. And, as the +carriage drove out of the inn-yard, Captain Cross deliberately lifted +his hat to Lady Level: but lifted it, she thought, in mockery. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE VINE-COVERED COTTAGE AT PISA. + + +That Archibald, Lord Level, had been a gay man, fond of pleasure, fond +of talking nonsense to pretty women, the world knew well: and perhaps, +world-fashion, admired him none the less for it. But his wife did not +know it. When Blanche Heriot became Blanche Level she was little more +than an innocent child, entirely unversed in the world's false ways. +She esteemed her husband; ay, and loved him, in a measure, and she was +happy for a time. + +It is true that while they were staying in Switzerland a longing for +home came over her. They had halted in Paris for nearly a fortnight +on their outward route. Some very nice people whom Lord Level knew +were there; they were delighted with the fair young bride, and she was +delighted with them. Blanche was taken about everywhere, no one being +more anxious for her amusement than Lord Level himself. But one +morning, in the very midst of numerous projected expeditions, he +suddenly told Blanche that they must continue their journey that day. + +"Oh, Archibald!" she had answered in a sort of dismay. "Why, it is +this very afternoon that we were going to Fontainebleau!" + +"My dear, you shall see Fontainebleau the next time we are in Paris," +he said. "I have a reason for wishing to go on at once." + +And they went on. Blanche was far too good and dutiful a wife to +oppose her own will to her husband's, or to grumble. They went +straight on to Switzerland--travelling in their own carriage--but +instead of settling himself in one of those pretty dwellings on the +banks of Geneva's lake, as he had talked of to Blanche, Lord Level +avoided Geneva altogether, and chose a fearfully dull little village +as their place of abode. Very lovely as to scenery, it is true; but +quite unfrequented by travellers. It was there that Blanche first +began to long for home. + +Next, they went on to Italy, posting straight to Pisa, and there Lord +Level took a pretty villa for a month in the suburbs of the town. Pisa +itself was deserted: it was hot weather; and Blanche did not think it +had many attractions. Lord Level, however, seemed to find pleasure in +it. He knew Pisa well, having stayed at it in days gone by. He made +Blanche familiar with the neighbourhood; together they admired and +wondered at the Leaning Tower, in its green plain, backed by distant +mountains; but he also went out and about a good deal alone. + +One English dame of fashion was sojourning in the place--a widow, +Mrs. Page Reid. She occupied the next villa to theirs, and called upon +them; and she and Lady Level grew tolerably intimate. She was a +talkative, gay woman of thirty--and beside her Blanche seemed like a +timid schoolgirl. + +One evening, when dinner was over, Lord Level strolled out--as he +often did--leaving his wife with Mrs. Page Reid, who had dined with +them. The two ladies talked together, and sang a song or two; and so +whiled away the time. + +"Let us go out for a stroll, too!" exclaimed Mrs. Page Reid, speaking +on a momentary impulse, when she found the time growing monotonous. + +Blanche readily agreed. It was a most lovely night; the moon bright +and silvery in the Italian sky. Putting on some fleecy shawls, the +ladies went down the solitary road, and turned by-and-by into a narrow +lane that looked like a grove of evergreens. Soon they came to a +pretty dwelling-place on the left, half villa, half cottage. Vines +grew up its trellised walls, flowers and shrubs crowded around it. + +"A charming little spot!" cried Mrs. Page Reid, as they halted to peep +through the hedge of myrtles that clustered on each side the low +entrance-gate. "And two people are sitting there--lovers, I dare say," +she added, "telling their vows under the moonbeams." + +In front of the vine-wreathed window, on a bench overhung by the +branches of the trailing shrubs, the laurels and the myrtles, sat two +young people. The girl was tall, slender, graceful; her dark eyes had +a flashing fire even in the moonlight; her cheeks wore a rose-red +flush. + +"How pretty she is!" whispered Blanche. "Look at her long gold +earrings! And he---- Oh!" + +"What's the matter?" cried Mrs. Page Reid, the tone of the last word +startling her. + +"It is my husband." + +"Nonsense!" began Mrs. Page Reid. But after one doubting, +disbelieving look, she saw that it was so. Catching Blanche's hand, +she drew her forcibly away, and when they had gained the highroad, +burst into a long, low laugh. + +"Don't think about it, dear," she said to Blanche. "It's nothing. The +best of husbands like to amuse themselves behind our backs." + +"Perhaps he was--was--inquiring the way--or something," hazarded +Blanche, whose breath was coming rather faster than usual. + +Mrs. Page Reid nearly choked. "Oh, to be sure!" she cried, when she +could speak. + +"You don't think so? You think it was--something else?" + +"You are only a little goose, my dear, in the ways of the world," +rejoined Mrs. Page Reid. "Where's the man that does not like to talk +with a pretty woman? Lord Level, of all others, does." + +"_He_ does?" + +"Well, he used to do so. Of course he has mended his manners. And the +women, mind you, liked to talk to him. But don't take up the notion, +please, that by saying that I insinuate any unorthodox talking," added +Mrs. Page Reid as an after-thought, when she caught a look at Lady +Level's tell-tale countenance. + +"I shall ask Lord Level----" + +"_Ask nothing_," impressively spoke the elder lady, cutting short the +words. "Say nothing to your husband. Take my advice, Lady Level, for +it is good. There is no mortal sin a wife can commit so repugnant in +her husband's eyes as that of spying upon his actions. It would make +him detest her in the end." + +"But I was not spying. We saw it by accident." + +"All the same. Let it pass from your mind as though it had never +been." + +Blanche was dubious. _If_ there was no harm, why should she not speak +of it?--and she could not think there was harm. And if there +_was_--why, she would not have breathed it to him for the world. +Dismissing the subject, she and Mrs. Page Reid sat down to a quiet +game at cards. When Lord Level came in, their visitor said good-night. + +Blanche sat on in silence and torment. Should she speak, or should she +not? Lord Level seemed buried in a reverie. + +"Archibald," she presently began. + +"Yes," he answered, rousing himself. + +"I--we--I and Mrs. Page Reid went out for a little walk in the +moonlight. And----" + +"Well, my dear?" + +"We saw you," Blanche was wishing to say; but somehow her courage +failed her. Her breath was short, her throat was beating. + +"And it was very pleasant," she went on. "As warm and light as day." + +"Just so," said Lord Level. "But the night air is treacherous, apt to +bring fever. Do not go out again in it, love." + +So her effort to speak had failed. And the silence only caused her to +think the more. Blanche Level would have given her best diamond +earrings to know who that person was in the gold ones. + +An evening or two further on, when she was quite alone, Lord Level +having again strolled out, she threw on the same fleecy shawl and +betook herself down the road to the cottage in the grove--the cottage +that looked like a pretty bower in the evergreens. And--yes---- + +Well, it was a strange thing--a startling thing; startling, anyway, to +poor Blanche Level's heart; but there, on the self-same bench, side by +side, sat Lord Level and the Italian girl. Her face looked more +beautiful than before to the young wife's jealous eyes; the gold +earrings glittered and sparkled in the moonlight. He and she were +conversing in a low, earnest voice, and Lord Level was smoking a +cigar. + +Blanche stood rooted to the spot, shivering a little as she peered +through the myrtle hedge, but never moving. Presently the young woman +lifted her head, called out "Si," and went indoors, evidently in +answer to a summons. + +"Nina," sang out Lord Level. "Nina"--raising his voice higher--"I have +left my cigar-case on the table; bring it to me when you come out +again." + +He spoke in English. The next minute the girl returned, cigar-case in +hand. She took her place by his side, as before, and they fell to +talking again. + +Lady Level drew away. She went home with flagging steps and a bitterly +rebellious heart. + +Not to her husband would she speak; her haughty lips were sealed to +him--and should be ever, she resolved in her new pain. But she gave a +hint the next day of what she had again seen to Mrs. Page Reid. + +That lady only laughed. To her mind it was altogether a rich joke. Not +only the affair itself, but Blanche's ideas upon it. + +"My dear Lady Level," she rejoined, "as I said before, you are very +ignorant of the ways of the world. I assure you our husbands like to +chatter to others as well as to us. Nothing wrong, of course, you +understand; the mistake is, if we so misconstrue it. Lord Level is a +very attractive man, you know, and has had all sorts of escapades." + +"I never knew that he had had them." + +"Well, it is hardly likely he would tell you of them before you were +his wife. He will tell you fast enough some day." + +"Won't you tell me some of them now?" + +Blanche was speaking very equably, as if worldly wisdom had come to +her all at once; and Mrs. Page Reid began to ransack her memory for +this, that, or the other that she might have heard of Lord Level. As +tales of scandal never lose by carrying, she probably converted +mole-hills into mountains; most assuredly so to Blanche's mind. +Anyway, she had better have held her tongue. + +From that time, what with one doubt and another, Lady Level's regard +for her lord was changed. Her feeling towards him became most bitter. +Resentment?--indignation?--neither is an adequate word for it. + +At the week's end they left Pisa, for the month was up, and travelled +back by easy stages to Savoy. Blanche wanted to go direct to England, +but Lord Level objected: he said she had not yet seen enough of +Switzerland. It was in Savoy that her illness came on--the mal du +pays, as they called it. When she grew better, they started towards +home; travelling slowly and halting at every available spot. That his +wife's manner had changed to him, Lord Level could only perceive, but +he had no suspicion of its cause. He put it down to her anger at his +keeping her so long away from England. + +The morning after they arrived at the inn in Germany (of which mention +has been made) Lord Level received a letter, which seemed to disturb +him. It was forwarded to him by a banker in Paris, to whom at present +all his letters were addressed. Telling Blanche that it contained +news of some matter of business upon which he must start for London +without delay, he departed; declining to listen to her prayer that she +might accompany him, but promising to return for her shortly. It was +at that inn that Arnold Ravensworth and his wife found Lady Level: and +it was with them she journeyed to England. + +And here we must give a few words to Lord Level himself. He crossed +the Channel by the night mail to Dover, and reached London soon after +daybreak. In the course of the day he called at his bankers', Messrs. +Coutts and Co., to inquire for letters: orders having now been given +by him to Paris to forward them to London. One only awaited him, which +had only just then come in. + +As Lord Level read it, he gave utterance to a word of vexation. For it +told him that the matter of business upon which he had hurried over +was put off for a week: and he found that he might just as well have +remained in Germany. + +The first thought that crossed his mind was--should he return to his +wife? But it was hardly worth while doing so. So he took rooms in +Holles Street, at a comfortable house where he had lodged before, and +looked up friends and acquaintances at his club. But he did not let +that first day pass without calling on Charles Strange. + +The afternoon was drawing to an end in Essex Street, and Charles was +in his own private room, all his faculties given to a deed, when Lord +Level was shown in. It was for Charles he asked, not for Mr. +Brightman. + +"What an awful business this is!" began his lordship, when greetings +had passed. + +Charles lifted his hands in dismay. No need to ask to whom the remark +applied: or to mention poor Tom Heriot by name. + +"Could _nothing_ be done, Mr. Strange?" demanded the peer in his +coldest and haughtiest tones. "Were there _no_ means that could have +been taken to avert exposure?" + +"Yes, I think there might have been, but for Tom's own careless +folly: and that's the most galling part of it," returned Charles. "Had +he only made a confidant of me beforehand, we should have had a try +for it. If I could not have found the money myself, Mr. Brightman +would have done so." + +"You need only have applied to me," said Lord Level. "I should not +have cared how much I paid--to prevent exposure." + +"But in his carelessness, you see, he never applied to anyone; he +allowed the blow to fall upon him, and then it was too late----" + +"Was he a fool?" interjected Lord Level. + +"There is this excuse for his not speaking: he did not know that +things were so bad, or that the people would proceed to extremities." + +The peer drew in his haughty lips. "Did he tell you that pretty +fable?" + +"Believe this much, Lord Level: what Tom _said_, he _thought_. Anyone +more reprehensibly light and heedless I do not know, but he is +incapable of falsehood. And in saying that he did not expect so grave +a charge, or believe there were any grounds on which it could be +made, I am sure he spoke only the truth. He was drawn in by one +Anstey, and----" + +"I read the reports of the trial," interrupted Lord Level. "Do not be +at the pain of going over the details again." + +"Well, the true culprit was Anstey; there's no doubt of that. But, +like most cunning rogues, he was able to escape consequences himself, +and throw them upon Tom. I am sure, Lord Level, that Tom Heriot no +more knew the bill was forged than I knew it. He knew well enough +there was something shady about it; about that and others which had +been previously in circulation, and had been met when they came to +maturity. This one bill was different. Of course there's all the +difference between shady bills of accommodation, and a bill that has a +responsible man's name to it, which he never signed himself." + +"But what on earth possessed Heriot to allow himself to be drawn into +such toils?" + +"Ah, there it is. His carelessness. He has been reprehensibly careless +all his life. And now he has paid for it. All's over." + +"He is already on his passage out in the convict ship _Vengeance_, is +he not?" said Lord Level, with suppressed rage. + +"Yes: ever since early in August," shuddered Charles. "How does +Blanche bear it?" + +"Blanche does not know it." + +"Not know it!" + +"No. As yet I have managed to keep it from her. I dread its reaching +her, and that's the truth. It is a fearful disgrace. She is fond of +him, and would feel it keenly." + +"But I cannot understand how it can have been kept from her." + +"Well, it has been. Why, she does not even know that he sold out! She +thinks he embarked with the regiment for India last May! We had been +in Paris about ten days--after our marriage, you know--when one +morning, happening to take up the _Times_, I saw in it the account of +his apprehension and first examination. They had his name in as large +as life--Thomas Heriot. 'Some gross calumny,' I thought; 'Blanche must +not hear of this:' and I gave orders for continuing our journey that +same day. However, I soon found that it was not a calumny: other +examinations took place, and he was committed for trial. I kept my +wife away from all places likely to be frequented by the English, lest +a word should be dropped to her: and as yet, as I tell you, she knows +nothing of it. She is very angry with me in her heart, I can see, for +taking her to secluded places, and for keeping her away from England +so long, but this has been my sole motive. I want the thought of it to +die out of people's minds before I bring her home." + +"She is not with you, then?" + +"She is in Germany. I had to hasten over here upon a matter of +business, and shall return for her when it is finished. I have taken +my old rooms in Holles Street for a week. You must look me up there." + +"I will," said Charles. + +Mr. Brightman came in then, and the trouble was gone over again. Lord +Level felt it keenly; there could be no doubt of that. He inquired of +the older and more experienced lawyer whether there was any chance of +bringing Anstey to a reckoning, so that he might be punished; and as +to any expense, great or small, that might be incurred in the process, +his lordship added, he would give carte blanche for that with greater +delight than he had given money for anything in his whole life. + +Charles could not help liking him. With all his pride and his imputed +faults, few people could help liking Lord Level. + +Meanwhile, as may have been gathered in the last chapter, Lord Level +was detained in England longer than he had thought for. Lady Level +grew impatient and more impatient at the delay: and then, taking the +reins into her own hands, she crossed the Channel with Mr. and Mrs. +Arnold Ravensworth. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +COMPLICATIONS. + + +Crossing by the night boat from Calais, the travellers reached Dover +at a very early hours of the morning. Lady Level, with her servants, +proceeded at once to London; but Mrs. Ravensworth, who had been +exceedingly ill on the passage, required some repose, and she and her +husband waited for a later train. + +"Make use of our house, Lady Level," said Mr. Ravensworth--speaking of +his new abode in Portland Place. "The servants are expecting me and +their mistress, and will have all things in readiness, and make you +comfortable." + +"Thank you all the same, Arnold," said Lady Level; "but I shall drive +straight to my husband's rooms in Holles Street." + +"I would not--if I were you," he dissented. "You are not expected, and +may not find anything ready in lodgings, so early in the morning. +Drive first to my house and have some breakfast. You can go on to +Holles Street afterwards." + +Sensible advice. And Lady Level took it. + +In the evening of that same day, Arnold Ravensworth and his wife +reached Portland Place from the London terminus. To Mr. Ravensworth's +surprise, who should be swinging from the door as the cab stopped but +Major Carlen in his favourite purple and scarlet cloak, his gray hair +disordered and his eyes exceeding fierce. + +"Here's a pretty kettle-of-fish!" cried he, scarcely giving Arnold +time to hand out his wife, and following him into the hall. "_You_ +have done a nice thing!" + +"What is amiss?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, as he took the Major into a +sitting-room. + +"Amiss!" returned the excited Major. "I would advise you not to fall +into Level's way just now. How the mischief came you to bring Blanche +over?" + +"We accompanied Lady Level to England at her request: I took no part +in influencing her decision. Lady Level is her own mistress." + +"Is she, though! She'll find she's not, if she begins to act in +opposition to her husband. Before she was married, she had not a wish +of her own, let alone a will--and there's where Level was caught, I +fancy," added the Major, in a parenthesis, nodding his head knowingly. +"He thought he had picked up a docile child, who would never be in his +way. What with that and her beauty--anyway, he could not think she +would be setting up a will, and an obstinate one, as she's doing now, +rely upon that." + +Major Carlen was striding from one end of the room to the other, his +cloak catching in the furniture as he swayed about. Arnold thought he +had been drinking: but he was a man who could take a great deal, and +show it very little. + +"The case is this," said he, unfastening the troublesome cloak, and +flinging it on to a chair. "Level has been in England a week or two; +amusing himself, I take it. He didn't want his wife, I suppose; well +and good: men like a little society, and as long as they keep their +wives in the dark, there's no reason why they shouldn't have it----" + +"Major Carlen!" burst forth Mr. Ravensworth. "Lord Level's wife is +your daughter. Have you forgotten it?" + +"My step-daughter. What if she is? Does that render her different from +others? Are you going to climb a pole and cry Morality? You are a +young married man, Arnold Ravensworth, and must be on your good +behaviour just now; it's etiquette." + +Mr. Ravensworth was not easily excited, but the red flush of anger +darkened his cheek. He could have thrust the old rascal from the +house. + +"Level leaves his wife in France, and tells her to remain there. +Germany? Well, say Germany, then. My lady chooses to disobey, and +comes to England, under your wing: and I wish old Harry had driven you +to any place rather than the one she was stopping at. She reaches town +to-day, and drives to Lord Level's rooms in Holles Street, whence he +had dated his letters to her--and a model of incaution he was for +doing it; why couldn't he have dated from his club? My lady finds or +hears of something there she does not like. Well, what could she +expect? They were his rooms; taken for himself, not for her; and if +she had not been a greater simpleton than ever broke loose from +keeping, she would have come away, then and there. Not she. She must +persist in putting questions as to this and that; so at last she +learned the truth, I suppose, or something near it. Then she thought +it time to leave the house and come to mine: which is what she ought +to have done at first: and there she has been waiting until now to see +me, for I have been out all day." + +"I thought your house was let?" + +"It was let for the season; the people have left it now. I came home +only yesterday from Jersey. My sister is lying ill there." + +"And may I ask, Major Carlen, how you know that Lord Level has been +'amusing himself' if you have not been here to see?" questioned Mr. +Ravensworth sarcastically. + +"How do I know it?--why, common sense tells me," stormed the Major. "I +have not heard a word about Level, except what Blanche says." + +"Is he in Holles Street?" + +"Not now. He gave up the rooms a week ago, and went down to Marshdale, +his place in Surrey. He is laid up there, having managed to jam his +knee against a gatepost; his horse swerved in going through it. A man +I met to day, a friend of Level's, told me so. To go back to Blanche. +She opened out an indignant tale to me, when I got home just now and +found her there, of what she had heard in Holles Street. 'Serve you +right, my dear,' I said to her: 'a wife has no business to be looking +at her husband through a telescope. If a man chose to fill his rooms +with wild tigers, it would not be his wife's province to complain, +provided he kept her out of reach of their claws.' 'But what am I to +do?' cried Blanche. 'You must return to France, or wherever else you +came from,' I answered. 'That I never will: I shall go down to +Marshdale, to Lord Level,' asserted Blanche, looking as I had never +seen her look before. 'You can't go there,' I said: 'you must not +attempt it.' 'I tell you, papa, I will go,' she cried, her eyes +flashing. I never knew she had so much passion in her, Ravensworth: +Level must have changed her nature. 'I will have an explanation from +Lord Level,' she continued. 'Rather than live on as I am living now, I +will demand a separation.'--Now, did you put that into her head?" +broke off the Major, looking at Mr. Ravensworth. + +"I do not think you know what you are saying, Major Carlen. Should I +be likely to advise Lady Level to separate from her husband?" + +"Someone has; such an idea would never enter Blanche's head unless put +there. 'You must lend me the means to go down,' she went on. 'I am +quite without money, through paying the bill at the hotel: Mr. +Ravensworth had partly to supply my travelling expenses.' 'Then more +fool Ravensworth for doing it,' said I; and more fool you were," +repeated the Major. + +"Anything more, Major?" + +"The idea of my lending her money to take her down to Marshdale! And +she'd be cunning to get money from me, just now, for I am out at all +pockets. The last supplies I had came from Level; I wrote to him when +he was abroad. By Jove! I would not cross him now for the universe." + +"The selfish old sinner!" thought Mr. Ravensworth--and nearly said so +aloud. + +"Let me finish; she'll be here in a minute; she said she should come +and apply to you. 'Does your husband beat you, or ill-treat you?' I +asked her. 'No,' said she, shaking her head in a proud fury; 'even I +would not submit to that. Will you lend me some money, papa?' she +asked again. 'No, I won't,' I said. 'Then I'll borrow it from Mr. +Ravensworth,' she cried, and ran upstairs to put her bonnet on. So +then I thought it was time to come too, and explain. Mind you don't +supply her with any, Ravensworth." + +"What pretext can I have for refusing?" + +"Pretext be shot!" irritably returned the Major. "Tell her you won't, +as I do. I forbid you to lend her any. There she is! What a passionate +knock! Been blundering up wrong turnings, I dare say." + +Lady Level came in, looking tired, heated, frightened. Mr. Ravensworth +took her hand. + +"You have been walking here!" he said. "It is not right that Lady +Level should be abroad in London streets at night, and alone." + +"What else am I to do without money?" she returned hysterically. + +"I sent the servants and the luggage to an hotel this morning, and +gave them the few shillings I had left." + +"Do sit down and calm yourself. All this is truly distressing." + +Calm herself! The emotion, so long pent up, broke forth into sobs. +"Yes, it is distressing. I come to England and I find no home; I am +driven about from pillar to post, insulted everywhere; I have to walk +through the streets, like any poor, helpless girl. Is it right that it +should be so?" + +"You have brought it all upon yourself, my lady," cried Major Carlen, +coming forward from a dark corner. + +She turned with a start. "So you are here, papa! Then I hope you have +entered into sufficient explanation to spare it to me." + +"I have told Ravensworth of your fine exploit, in going to Lord +Level's rooms: and he agrees with me that no one except an +inexperienced child would have done it." + +"The truth, if you please, Major Carlen," struck in Mr. Ravensworth. + +"And that what you heard or met with--though as to what it was I'm +sure I'm all in a fog about--served you right for going," continued +the unabashed Major. + +Lady Level threw back her head, the haughty crimson dyeing her cheeks. +"I went there expecting to find my husband; was that an inexperienced +or a childish action?" + +"Yes, it was," roared the Major, completely losing his temper, and +showing his fierce teeth. "When men are away from their wives, they +fall back into bachelor habits. If they please to turn their sanctums +into smoking dens, or boxing dens, or what not, are you to come +hunting them up, as I say, with a spyglass that magnifies at both +ends?" + +"Good men have no need to keep their wives away from them." + +The Major gave his nose a twist. "Good men?--bad men?--where's the +difference? The good have their wives under their thumb, and the bad +haven't, that's all." + +"For shame, papa!" + +"Tie Lord Level to your apron-string, and keep him there as long as +you can," fired the Major; "but don't ferret him up when he is out for +a holiday." + +"Did I want to ferret up Lord Level?" she retorted. "I went there +because I thought it was his temporary home and would be mine. Why did +he date his letters thence?" + +"There it all lies," cried the Major, changing his tone to one of +wrath against the peer. "Better he had dated from the top of the +Monument. It is surprising what mistakes men make sometimes. But how +was he to think you would come over against his expressed will? You +say he had bade you stop there until he could fetch you." + +Lady Level would not reply: the respect due to Major Carlen as her +step-father was not in the ascendant just then. Turning to Mr. +Ravensworth, she requested the loan of sufficient funds to take her +down to Marshdale. + +"I tell you, Blanche, you must not go there," interrupted the Major. +"Better not. Lord Level does not receive strangers at Marshdale." + +"Strangers!" emphatically repeated Lady Level. + +"Or wives either. They are the same as strangers in a case such as +this. I assure you Level told me, long before he married you, that +Marshdale was a little secluded place, no establishment kept up in it, +except an old servant or two; that he never received company down +there, and should never take you to it. Remain at the hotel with your +servants, if you will not come to my house, Blanche--there's only a +charwoman in it at present, as you know. Then write to Level and let +him know that you are there." + +"Lady Level had better stay here tonight, at all events," put in +Arnold Ravensworth. "My wife is expecting her to do so." + +"Ay," acquiesced the old Major: "and write to Marshdale tomorrow, +Blanche." + +"I go down to Marshdale tomorrow," she replied in tones of +determination. "It is too late to go tonight. The old servants that +wait upon Lord Level can wait upon me: and if there are none, I will +wait upon him myself. Go there I will, and have an understanding. And, +unless Lord Level can explain away the aspect that things have taken, +I--I--I----" + +"Of all the imbeciles that ever gave utterance to folly, you are the +worst," was the Major's complimentary retort, when she broke down. +"Madam, do you know that you are a peeress of the realm?" he added +pompously. + +"I do not forget it." + +"And you would stand in your own light! You have carriages and finery; +you are to be presented next season; you will then have a house in +town: what does the earth contain more that you _can_ want?" + +"Happiness," said Lady Level. + +"Happiness!" repeated the Major, in genuine astonishment. "A pity but +you had married a country curate and found it, then. Arnold +Ravensworth, you must not lend Lady Level the money she desires; you +shall not speed her on this insane journey." + +Mr. Ravensworth approached him, and spoke in low tones. "Do you know +of any existing reason that may render it inexpedient for her to go +there?" + +"I know nothing about it," replied the Major, too angry to lower his +voice; "absolutely nothing. The Queen and all the princesses might pay +it a visit, for aught I know of any reason to the contrary. But it is +not Lady Level's place to follow her husband about in this clandestine +manner. If he wants her there, he will send for her, once he knows +that she is in London. The place is not much more than a farm, I +believe, and used to be a hunting-box in the late Lord Level's time." + +"Papa, I hope you will forgive me for running counter to your +advice--but I shall certainly go down into Surrey tomorrow." + +"I wash my hands of it altogether," said the angry Major. + +"And you must lend me the money, Arnold." + +"I will not refuse you," was his answer: "and I cannot dictate to you; +but I think it would be better for you to remain here, and let Lord +Level know that you are coming." + +Lady Level shook her head. "Good advice, Arnold, no doubt, and I thank +you; all the same, I shall go down as I have said." + +"You will be very much to blame, sir, if you help on this mad scheme +by so much as a sixpence," spoke the Major. + +"Papa, listen to a word of common sense," she interposed. "I could go +to a dozen places tomorrow, and get any amount of money. I could go to +Lord Level's agents, and say I am Lady Level, and they would supply +me. I could go to Mr. Brightman, and he would supply me--Charles +Strange is in Paris again. I could go to other places. But I prefer to +have it from Mr. Ravensworth, and save myself trouble and annoyance. +It is not a pleasant thing for a peeress of the realm--as you just now +put it--to go about borrowing a five-pound note," she concluded with a +faint smile. + +"Very well, Blanche. If ill comes of this wild step of yours, remember +you were warned against it. I can say no more." + +Gathering up his cloak as he spoke, Major Carlen threw it over his +shoulders, and went forth, muttering, into the night. + +Mr. Ravensworth called his wife, and she took Lady Level upstairs to a +hastily-prepared chamber. Sitting down in a low chair, and throwing +off her bonnet, Lady Level, worn out with all the excitement she had +gone through, burst into a flood of hysterical tears. + +"Tell me all about it," said Mary Ravensworth soothingly, drawing the +poor wearied head to rest on her shoulder. + +"They meant to stop me from going down to my husband, and I _will_ +go," sobbed Blanche half defiantly. "If he has met with an accident, +and is ill, I ought to be there." + +"Of course you ought," said Mary warmly. "But what is all the trouble +about?--And what was it that you heard, and did not like, in Holles +Street?" + +"Oh, never mind that," said Blanche, colouring furiously. "That is +what I am going to ask my husband to explain." + +Upon Lady Level's arrival in London that morning, she sent her +servants and luggage to an hotel, and drove straight to Portland Place +herself: where Mr. and Mrs. Ravensworth's servants supplied her with +breakfast. Afterwards, she went to Holles Street, arriving there about +ten o'clock; walked into the passage, for the house door was open, was +met by a young person in green, and inquired for Lord Level. + +"Lord Level's not here now, ma'am," was the answer, as she showed +Blanche into a parlour. "He has been gone about a week." + +"Gone about a week!" repeated Blanche, completely taken back; for she +had pictured him as lying at the place disabled. + +"About that time, ma'am. He and the lady left together." + +Blanche stared, and collected her scattered senses. "What lady?" she +asked. + +The young person in green considered. "Well, ma'am, I forget the name +just now; those foreign names are hard to remember. His lordship +called her Nina. A very handsome lady, she was--Italian, I think--with +long gold earrings." + +Lady Level's heart began to beat loudly. "May I ask if you are Mrs. +Pratt?" she inquired, knowing that to be the name of the landlady. + +"Dear me, no, ma'am; Mrs. Pratt's my aunt; I'm up here on a visit to +her from the country. She is gone out to do her marketings. Lord Level +was going down to his seat in Surrey, we understood, when he left +here." + +"Was the Italian lady going with him?" + +The country girl--who was no doubt an inexperienced, simple country +maiden, or she might not have talked so freely--shook her head. "We +don't know anything about that, ma'am: she might have been. She was +related to my lord--his sister-in-law, I think he called her to Mrs. +Pratt--or some relation of that sort." + +Blanche walked to the window and stood still for a moment, looking +into the street, getting up her breath. "Did the lady stay with Lord +Level all the time he was here?" she questioned, presently. + +"Oh no, ma'am; she came only the day before he went away. Or, +stay--the day but one before, I think it was. Yes; for I know they +were out together nearly all the intervening day. Mrs. Pratt thought +at his lordship's solicitor's. It was about six o'clock in the evening +when she first arrived. My lord had spoken to Mrs. Pratt that day in +his drawing-room, saying he was expecting a relative from Italy for a +day or two, and could we let her have a bedroom, and any other +accommodation she might need; and Mrs. Pratt said she would, for we +were not full. A very nice lady she seemed to be, ma'am, and spoke +English in a very pretty manner." + +Lady Level drew in her contemptuous lips. "Did Lord Level meet with +any accident while he was here?" + +"Accident, ma'am! Not that we heard of. He was quite well when he +left." + +"Thank you," said Blanche, turning away and drawing her mantle up with +a shiver. "As Lord Level is not here, I will not intrude upon you +further." + +Wishing the young person in green good-morning, she went away to +Gloucester Place, feeling that she must scream or cry or fight the +air. Blanche knew Major Carlen was about due in London, as his house +was vacant again. Yes, the old charwoman said, the Major had got home +the previous day, but he had just gone out. Would my lady (for she +knew Blanche) like to walk in and wait until he returned? + +My lady did so, and had to wait until evening. Then she partly +explained to Major Carlen, and partly confused him; causing that +gentleman to take up all kinds of free and easy ideas, as to the +morals and manners of my Lord Level. + +On the following morning Lady Level, pursuing her own sweet will, took +train for Marshdale, leaving her servants behind her. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE HOUSE AT MARSHDALE. + + +It was a gloomy day, not far off the gloomy month of November, and it +was growing towards mid-day, when a train on a small line, branching +from the direct London line, drew up at the somewhat insignificant +station of Upper Marshdale. A young and beautiful lady, without +attendants, descended from a first-class carriage. + +"Any luggage, ma'am?" inquired a porter, stepping up to her. + +"A small black bag; nothing else." + +The bag was found in the van, and placed on the platform. A family, +who also appeared to have arrived at their destination, closed round +the van and were tumultuous over a missing trunk, and the lady drew +back and accosted a stolid-looking lad, dressed in the railway +uniform. + +"How far is it to Marshdale?" + +"Marshdale! Why, you be at Marshdale," returned the boy, in sulky +tones. + +"I mean Marshdale House." + +"Marshdale House?--That be my Lord Level's place," said the boy, still +more sulkily. "It be a matter of two mile." + +"Are there any carriages to be hired?" + +"There's one--a fly; he waits here when the train comes in." + +"Where is it to be found?" + +"It stands in the road, yonder. But if ye wants the fly, it's of no +use wanting. It have been booked by them folks squabbling over their +boxes: they writed here yesterday for it to be ready for 'em." + +The more civil porter now came up, and the lady appealed to him. He +confirmed the information that there was only this one conveyance to +be had, and the family had secured it. Perhaps, he added, the lady +might like to wait until they had done with it. + +The lady shook her head impatiently, and decided to walk. "Can you +come with me to carry my bag and to show me the way?" she asked of the +surly boy. + +The surly boy, willing or unwilling, had to acquiesce, and they set +off to walk. Upon emerging from the station, he came to a standstill. + +"Now, which way d'you mean to go?" began he, facing round upon his +companion. "There's the road way, and it's plaguy long; two mile, +good; and there's the field way, and it's a sight nearer." + +"Is it as good as the road?" + +"It's gooder--barring the bull. He runs at everybody. And he tosses +'em, if he can catch 'em." + +Not caring to encounter so objectionable an animal, the lady chose the +road; and the boy strode on before her, bag in hand. It was downhill +all the way. In due time they reached Marshdale House, which lay in a +hollow. It was a low, straggling, irregular structure, built of dark +red brick, with wings and gable ends, and must originally have looked +more like a comfortable farm-house than a nobleman's seat. But it had +been added to at various periods, without any regard to outward +appearance or internal regularity. It was exceedingly retired, and a +very large garden surrounded the house, encompassed by high walls and +dense trees. + +The walls were separated by a pair of handsome iron gates, and a small +doorway stood beside them. A short, straight avenue, overhung by +trees, led to the front entrance of the house. The surly boy, turning +himself and his bag round, pushed backwards against the small door, +sent it flying, and branched off into a side-path. + +"Is not that the front-door?" said the lady, trying to arrest him. + +"'Tain't no manner of use going to it," replied the imperturbable boy, +marching on. "The old gentleman and lady gets out o' the way, and the +maids in the kitchen be deaf, I think. Last time I came up here with a +parcel, I rung at it till I was tired, and nobody heard." + +He went up to a side-door, flung it open, and put down the bag. A +neat-looking young woman, with her sleeves turned up, came forward, +and stared in silence. + +"Is Lord Level within?" inquired the lady. + +"My lord's ill in bed," replied the servant; "he cannot be seen or +spoken to. What do you want with him, please?" + +She seemed a good-tempered, ignorant sort of girl, but nothing more. +At that moment someone called to her from an inner room, and she +turned away. + +"Are there not any upper servants in the house, do you know?" inquired +the lady of the boy. + +"I doesn't think so. There's the missis." + +A tinge came over the lady's face. "The mistress! Who is she?" + +"She's Mrs. Ed'ards. An old lady, what comes to church with buckles in +her shoes. And there's Mr.----" + +"What is it that you want here?" interrupted the servant girl, +advancing again, and addressing the visitor in a not very conciliatory +tone. + +"I am Lady Level," was the reply, in a ringing, imperious voice. "Call +someone to receive me." + +It found its way to the girl's alarm. She looked scared, doubting, and +finally turned and flew off down a long, dark passage. The boy heard +the announcement without its ruffling his equanimity in the least +degree. + +"That's all, ain't it?" asked he, giving the bag a condescending touch +with his foot. + +"How much am I to pay you?" inquired Lady Level. + +The boy paused. "You bain't obliged to pay nothing." + +"What is the charge?" repeated Lady Level. + +"The charge ain't nothing. If folks like to give anything, it's gived +as a gift." + +She smiled, and, taking out her purse, gave him half-a-crown. He +received it with remarkable satisfaction, and then, with an air of +great mystery and cunning, slipped it into his boot. + +"But, I say, don't you go and tell, over there, as you gived it me," +said he, jerking his head in the direction of the railway station. "We +are not let take nothing, and there'd be the whole lot of 'em about my +ears. You won't tell?" + +"No, I will not tell," replied Lady Level, laughing, in spite of her +cares and annoyances. And the promising young porter in embryo, giving +vent to a shrill whistle, which might have been heard at the +two-mile-off station, tore away as fast as his legs would carry him. + +The girl came back with a quaint old lady. Her hair was white, her +complexion clear and fresh, and her eyes were black and piercing as +ever they had been in her youth. She looked in doubt at the visitor, +as the servant had done. + +"I am told that someone is inquiring for my lord." + +"His wife is inquiring for him. I am Lady Level." + +Had any doubt been wavering in the old lady's mind, the tones +dispelled it. She curtseyed to the ground--the stately, upright, +old-fashioned curtsey of the days gone by. A look of distress rose to +her face. + +"Oh, my lady! That I should live to receive my lord's wife in this +unprepared, unceremonious manner! He told me you were in foreign +parts, beyond seas." + +"I returned to England yesterday, and have left my servants in town. +What is the matter with Lord Level?" + +"That your ladyship should come to such a house as this, all +unfurnished and disordered! and--I beg your pardon, my lady! I cannot +take you through these passages," she added, curtseying for Lady +Level to go out again. "Deborah, go round and open the front-door." + +Lady Level, in the midst of much lamentation, was conducted to the +front entrance, and thence ushered into a long, low, uncarpeted room +on the left of the dark hall. It was very bare of furniture, chairs +and a large table being all that it contained. "It is of no +consequence," said Lady Level; "I have come only to see Lord Level, +and may not remain above an hour or two. I cannot tell. You are Mrs. +Edwards, I think. I have heard Lord Level mention you." + +"My name is Edwards, my lady. I was housekeeper in the late lord's +time, and, when a young woman, I had the honour of nursing my lord. +Since the late lord's death, I and my brother, Jacob Drewitt, have +mostly lived here. He used to be house steward at Marshdale." + +Lady Level removed her bonnet and cloak, and threw them on the table. +She looked impatient and restless, as she listened to the account of +her husband's accident. He had received an injury to his knee, when +out riding, the day after his arrival at Marshdale; fever had set in, +deepening at times to slight delirium. + +"I should like to see him," said Lady Level. "Will you take me to his +chamber?" + +Mrs. Edwards marshalled her upstairs. Curious, in-and-out, wide and +shallow stairs they were, with long passages and short turnings +branching from them. She gently threw open the door of a large, +handsome room. On the bed lay Lord Level, his eyes closed. + +"He is dozing again, my lady," she whispered. "He is sure to fall to +sleep whenever the fever leaves him." + +"There is no fire in the room!" exclaimed Lady Level. + +"The doctor says there's not to be any, my lady. In the room opposite +to this, across the passage, you will find a good one. It is my lord's +sitting-room when he is well. And here," noiselessly opening a door +facing the foot of the bed, "is another chamber, that can be prepared +for your ladyship, if you remain." + +The housekeeper left the room as she spoke, scarcely knowing whether +she stood on her head or her heels, so completely was she confounded +by this arrival of Lady Level's--and nothing wherewith to receive her! +Mrs. Edwards had her head and hands full just then. + +As Lady Level moved forward, her dress came into contact with a light +chair, and moved it. The invalid started, and raised himself on his +elbow. + +"Why!--who--is it?" + +"It is I, Lord Level," she said, advancing to the bed. + +He looked strangely amazed and perplexed. He could not believe his own +eyes, and stared at her as though he would discover whether she was +really before him, or whether he was in a dream. + +"Don't you know me?" she asked gently. + +"Is it--Blanche?" + +"Yes." + +"But where have you come from?--what brings you here?" he slowly +ejaculated. + +"I came down by train to-day. I have come to speak to you." + +"You were in Germany. I left you in Germany!" + +"I thought I had been there long enough: too long; and I quitted it. +Archibald, I could not stay there. Had I done so, I should have been +ill as you are. I think I should have died." + +He said nothing for a few moments, and appeared to be lost in thought. +Then he drew her face down to his, and kissed it. + +"You ought not to have come over without my permission, Blanche." + +"I did not travel alone. Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth chanced to +put up at the inn on their homeward route, and I took the opportunity +to come over with them." + +The information evidently did not please Lord Level. His brow +contracted. + +"You wrote me word that you had had an accident," she continued. "How +could I be contented to remain away after that? So I came over: and I +went to your rooms in Holles Street----" + +"Why on earth did you go there?" he sharply interrupted. "When I had +left them." + +"But I did not know you had left them. How was I to know you had come +to Marshdale if you never told me so? When I found you had left Holles +Street, I went straight to Gloucester Place. Papa has just come home +from Jersey." + +"You ought to have remained in Germany until I was able to join you," +he reiterated irritably; and Blanche could not avoid seeing that he +was growing agitated and feverish. "What's to become of you? Where are +you to be?" + +"First of all, I want to have an explanation with you," said Blanche. +"I came over on purpose to have it; to tell you many things. One is, +that I will no longer submit to be treated as a child----" + +"Blanche!" he curtly interrupted. + +"Well?" + +"You are acting as a child now, and as nothing else. This nonsense +that you are talking--I am not in a condition to hear it." + +"It is not nonsense," said Blanche. + +"It is what I will not listen to. It was the height of folly to come +here. All you can do now is to go back to London by the next train." + +"Go back where?" she passionately asked. "I have no home in London." + +"I dare say Major Carlen will receive you for a week. Before that time +I hope to be well enough to come up, and prepare a home for you. Where +are Sanders and Timms?" + +"I did not bring them down with me. They are at an hotel. Why cannot I +stay here?" + +"Because I won't have it. There is nothing in the place ready for you, +or suited to you." + +"If it is suited to you, it's suited to me. I say I will not be +treated as a child any longer. I could be quite happy here. There is +nothing I should like so much as to explore this old house. I never +saw such an array of ghostly passages anywhere." + +Something in the words seemed dangerously to excite Lord Level. The +fever was visibly increasing. + +"I forbid you to explore; I forbid you to remain here!" he exclaimed +in the deepest agitation. "Do you hear me, Blanche?--you must return +by the next train." + +"I will not," she replied, quite as obstinate as he. "I will not go +hence until I have had an explanation with you. If you are too ill at +present, I will wait for it." + +He was, indeed, too ill. "Quiet, above all things," the doctor had +said when he had paid his early morning visit. But quiet Lord Level +had not had; his wife had put an end to that. His talk grew random, +his mind wandering; a paroxysm of fever ensued. In terror Lady Level +rang the bell. + +Mrs. Edwards answered it. Blanche gazed at her with astonishment, +scarcely recognising her. She had put on her gala dress of days long +gone by: a short, full, red petticoat, a chintz gown looped above it +in festoons, high-heeled shoes, buckles, snow-white stockings with +worked "clocks," a mob cap of clear lace, large gold earrings, and +black mittens. All this she had assumed out of respect to her new +lady. + +"Is he out of his mind?" gasped Lady Level, terrified at her lord's +words and his restless motions. + +"It is the fever, my lady," said Mrs. Edwards. "Dear, dear! And we +thought him so much better today!" + +Close upon that, Dr. Macferraty, the medical man, came in. He was of +square-built frame with broad shoulders, very dictatorial and +positive considering his years, which did not number more than +seven-and-twenty. + +"What mischief has been at work here?" he demanded, standing over the +bed with Mrs. Edwards. "Who has been with him?" + +She explained that Lady Level had arrived and had been talking with +his lordship. She--Mrs. Edwards--had begged her ladyship _not_ to talk +to him; but--well, the young were heedless and did not think of +consequences. + +"If she has worried him into brain-fever, she will have herself to +thank for it," harshly spoke the doctor. And Lady Level, who was in +the adjoining room, overheard the words. + +"Something has happened to agitate my patient!" exclaimed Doctor +Macferraty, when, in leaving the room, he encountered Lady Level in +the passage, and was introduced to her by Mrs. Edwards. + +"I am very sorry," she answered. "We were speaking of family affairs, +and Lord Level grew excited." + +"Then, madam," said the doctor, "do not speak of family affairs again, +whilst he is in this weak condition, or of any other affairs likely to +excite him. You must, if you please, put off all such topics until he +is better." + +"How long will that be?" asked Lady Level. + +"I cannot say; it may be a week, or it may be a month. When once these +intermittent fevers get into the system, it is difficult to shake them +off again." + +"It will not go on to--to anything worse?" questioned Lady Level +timidly, recalling what she had just overheard. + +"I hope not; but I cannot answer for it. Your ladyship must be good +enough to bear in mind that much depends upon his keeping himself +tranquil, and upon those around helping to keep him so." + +The doctor withdrew as he spoke, telling Mrs. Edwards that he would +look in again at night. Lord Level remained very excited throughout +the rest of the day; he had a bad night, the fever continuing, and was +no better in the morning. Mrs. Edwards had sat up with him. + +Lady Level then made up her mind to remain at Marshdale, consulting +neither her lord nor anyone else. As Major Carlen had remarked, +Blanche was developing a will of her own. Though, indeed, it might not +have been right to leave him in his present condition. She sent for +Sanders and Timms, the two servants who had attended her from Germany, +and for certain luggage belonging to herself. Mrs. Edwards did the +best she could with this influx of visitors to a scantily-furnished +house. Lady Level occupied the chamber that opened from her husband's; +it also opened on to the corridor. + +"Madam," said Dr. Macferraty to her, taking the bull by the horns on +one of the earliest days, "you must allow me to give you a word of +advice. Do not, just at present, enter Lord Level's chamber; wait +until he is a little stronger. He has just asked me whether you had +gone back to town, and I did not say no. It is evident that your being +here troubles him. The house, as it is at present, is not in a +condition to receive you, or he appears to think so. Therefore, so +long as he is in this precarious state, do not show yourself to him. +Let him think you have returned to London." + +"Is his mind quite right again?" + +"By no means. But he has lucid intervals. I assure your ladyship it is +of the very utmost importance that he should be kept tranquil. +Otherwise, I will not answer for the consequences." + +Lady Level took the advice in all humility. Bitterly though she was +feeling upon some scores towards her husband, she did not want him to +die; no, nor to have brain-fever. So she kept the door closed between +her room and his, and was as quiet as a mouse at all times. And the +days began to pass on. + +Blanche found them monotonous. She explored the house, but the number +of passages, short and long, their angles and their turnings, confused +her. She made the acquaintance of the steward, Mr. Drewitt, an elderly +gentleman who went about in a plum-coloured suit and a large cambric +frill to his shirt. One autumn morning when Blanche had traversed the +long corridor, beyond the rooms which she and Lord Level occupied, +she turned into another at right angles with it, and came to a door +that was partly open. Passing through it, she found herself in a +narrow passage that she had not before seen. Deborah, the good-natured +housemaid, suddenly came out of one of the rooms opening from it, +carrying a brush and dustpan. Deborah was the only servant kept in the +house, so far as Lady Level saw, apart from the cook, who was fat and +experienced. + +"What a curious old house!" exclaimed Lady Level. "Nothing but dark +passages that turn and wind about until you don't know where you are." + +"It is that, my lady," answered Deborah. "In the late lord's time the +servants took to calling it the maze, it puzzled them so. The name got +abroad, and some people call it the maze to this day." + +"I don't think I have been in this passage before. Does anyone live or +sleep here?" added Lady Level, looking at the household articles +Deborah carried. + +It was a dark, narrow passage, closed in by a door at each end. The +door at the upper end was of oak; heavy, and studded with nails. Four +rooms opened from the passage, two on each side. + +"All these rooms are occupied by the master and missis," said Deborah, +alluding to the steward and his sister. "This is Mrs. Edwards's +chamber, my lady," pointing to the one she had just quitted. "That +beyond it is Mr. Drewitt's; the opposite room is their sitting-room, +and the one beside it is not used." + +"Where does that heavy door lead to?" continued Lady Level. + +"It leads into the East Wing, my lady," replied Deborah. "I have never +entered that wing all the two years I've lived here," continued the +gossiping girl. "I am not allowed to do so. The door is kept locked; +as well as the door answering to it in the passage below." + +"Does no one ever go into it?" + +"Why, yes, my lady; Mr. Drewitt does, and spends a good part of his +time there. He has a business-room there, in which he keeps his books +and papers relating to the estate. Mrs. Edwards is in there, too, with +him most days. And my lord goes in when he is down here." + +"Then no one really inhabits that wing?" + +"Oh yes, my lady, John Snow and his wife live in it; he's the head +gardener. A many years he has been in the family; and one of the last +things the late lord did before he died was to give him that wing to +live in. An easy life Snow has of it now; working or not, just as he +pleases. When there's any unusual work to be done, our gardener on +this side is had in to help with it." + +Lady Level did not feel much interested in the wing, or in Snow the +gardener. But it happened that not half an hour after this +conversation, she chanced to see Mrs. Snow. + +Leaning, in her listlessness, out of an open window that was just +above the side entrance, to which she had been conducted by the boy on +her way from the station, she was noticing how high the wall was that +separated the garden of the house from the garden of the East Wing. +Lofty trees, closely planted, also flanked the wall, so that not the +slightest glimpse could be had on either side of the other garden. The +East Wing, with its grounds, was as completely hidden from view as +though it had no existence. While rather wondering at this--for the +East Wing was, after all, a part of the house, and not detached from +it--Lady Level saw a woman emerge from a little sheltered doorway in +the wall, lock it after her, and come up the path, key in hand. This +obscure doorway, and another at the foot of the East Wing garden +opening to the road, were apparently the only means of entrance to it. +To the latter door, always kept locked, was attached a large bell, +which awoke the surrounding echoes whenever tradespeople or other +applicants rang at it. + +"Is that you, Hannah Snow?" cried the cook, stepping forward to meet +the other as she came up the path. "And how are you to-day? Do you +want anything?" + +Catching the name, Lady Level looked out more closely. She saw a tall, +strong, respectable woman of middle age, with a smiling, happy face, +and laughing hazel eyes. She wore a neat white cap, a clean cotton +gown and gray-checked apron. + +"Yes, cook," was the answer, given in a merry voice. "I want you to +give me a handful of candied peel. I am preparing a batch of cakes for +my old man, never supposing I had not all the ingredients at hand, and +I find I have no peel. I'm sure I had some; and I tell John he must +have stolen it." + +"What a shame!" cried the cook, taking the words more literally than +they were intended. Mrs. Snow laughed. + +"Fact is, I suppose I used the last of it in the bread-and-butter +pudding I made last week," said she. + +"You are always making cakes for that man o' yours, seems to me, +Hannah," grumbled the cook. "We can smell them over here when they're +baking, and that's pretty often." + +"Seems I am: he's always asking for them," assented Hannah. "He likes +to eat one now and then between meals, you see. + +"Well, he's a rare one for his inside," retorted the cook, as she went +in for the candied peel. + +"They seem to do very much as they like here," was the only thought +that crossed Lady Level. + +On this same day Lord Level, who had grown so much better as to be out +of danger, dismissed his doctor. Presenting him with a handsome +cheque, he told him that he required no further attendance. Blanche +received the news from Mrs. Edwards. + +"But is he so well as that?" she asked, in surprise. + +"Well, my lady, he is very much better, there's no doubt of that. He +will be out of bed to-morrow or the next day, and, if he takes care, +will have no relapse," was the housekeeper's answer. "No doubt it +might be safer for the doctor to continue to come a little longer, if +it were only to enjoin strict quiet; but you see my lord does not like +him." + +"I fancied he did not." + +"He is not our own doctor, as perhaps your ladyship has heard," +pursued Mrs. Edwards. "_He_ is a Mr. Hill: a clever, pleasant man, of +a certain age, who was very intimate with the late lord. They were +close friends, I may say. When his lordship met with this accident, it +put him out uncommonly that we had to send for the young man, Dr. +Macferraty, Mr. Hill being away." + +"If Lord Level is so well as to do without a doctor, I might go into +his room. Don't you think so, Mrs. Edwards?" + +"Better not for a day or two, my lady; better not, indeed. I'm afraid +my lord will be angry at your having stayed here--there being no +fitting establishment or accommodation for your ladyship; and----" + +"That is such nonsense!" interrupted Lady Level. "With Sanders and +Timms here, I am more attended to than is really necessary. And even +if I had to put up with discomfort for a short time, I dare say I +should survive it." + +"And it might cause his lordship excitement, I was about to say," +quickly continued Mrs. Edwards. "A very little thing would bring the +fever back again." + +Blanche sighed rebelliously, but recognised the obligation to condemn +herself a little longer to this dreary existence. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE QUARREL. + + +The following day was charmingly fine: the sun brilliant, the air warm +as summer. In the afternoon Lady Level went out to take a walk. Lord +Level was not up that day, but would be, all being well, on the +morrow. It was the injury to the knee more than his general health +that was keeping him in bed now. + +Outside the gate Blanche looked about her, and decided to take the way +towards the railway station. Upper Marshdale lay close beyond it, and +she thought she would see what the little town was like. If she felt +tired after exploring it, she could engage the solitary railway fly +to bring her home again. + +She went along the deserted road, passing a peasant's cottage now and +then. Very near to the station she met the surly boy. He was coming +along with a leap and a whistle, and stopped dead at sight of Lady +Level. + +"I say," said he, in a low tone, all his glee and his impudence gone +out of him, "be you going _there_?" + +"Yes," answered Lady Level, half smiling, for the boy amused her. He +had pointed to indicate the station, but so awkwardly that she thought +he pointed to the roofs and chimneys beyond it. "Yes, I am. Why?" + +His face fell. "Not to tell of _me_?" he gasped. + +"To tell of you! What should I have to tell of you?" + +"About that there half-crown. You _give_ him to me, mind; I never +asked. You can't see the station-master if you try: he's a gone to his +tea." + +"Oh, I won't tell of that," said Lady Level. "I am going to the +village, not to the station." + +"They'd make such a row," said the boy, somewhat relieved. "The +porter'd be mad that it wasn't given to him; he might get me sent away +perhaps for't. It's such a lot, you see: a whole half-crown: when +anything is given, it's a sixpence. But 'tain't nothing that's given +mostly; _nothing_." + +The intense resentment thrown into the last word made Lady Level +laugh. + +"It's a sight o' time, weeks and weeks, since I've had anything given +me afore, barring the three penny pieces from Mr. Snow," went on the +grumbling boy. "And what's three penny pieces?" + +"Mr. Snow?" repeated Lady Level. "Who is he?" + +"He is Lord Level's head gardener, he be. He comes up here to the +station one day, not long afore you come down; and he collars the fly +for the next down-train. The next down-train comes in and brings my +lord and a lady with him. Mr. Snow, he puts the lady inside, and he +puts what luggage there were outside. 'Twasn't much, and I helps him, +and he dives into his pockets and brings out three penny pieces. And +I'll swear that for weeks afore nobody had never given me a single +farthing." + +Lady Level changed colour. "What's your name?" she suddenly asked the +boy, to cover her confusion. + +"It be Sam Doughty. That there lady----" + +"Oh, I know the lady," she carelessly interrupted, hating herself at +the same time for pursuing the subject and the questions. "A lady with +black hair and eyes, was it not, and long gold earrings?" + +"Well, it were. I noticed the earrings, d'ye see, the sun made 'em +sparkle so. Handsome earrings they was; as handsome as she were." + +"And Lord Level took her home with him in the fly, did he?" + +"That he didn't. She went along of herself, Mr. Snow a-riding on the +box. My lord walked across the fields. The station-master telled him +to mind the bull, but my lord called back that he warn't afraid." + +There was nothing more to ask; nothing more that she could ask. But +Lady Level had heard enough to disturb her equanimity, and she turned +without going on to Upper Marshdale. That the lady with the gold +earrings was either in the house, or in its East Wing, and that that +was why she was wanted out of it, seemed clearer to her than the sun +at noonday. + +That same evening, Lady Level's servants were at supper in the large +kitchen: where, as no establishment was kept up in the house, they +condescended to take their meals. Deborah was partly waiting on them, +partly gossiping, and partly dressing veal cutlets and bacon in the +Dutch oven for what she called the upstairs supper. The cook had gone +to bed early with a violent toothache. + +"You have enough there, I hope," cried Timms, as Deborah brought the +Dutch oven to the table to turn the cutlets. + +"Old Mr. Drewitt has such an appetite; leastways at his supper," +answered Deborah. + +"I wonder they don't take their meals below; it's a long way to carry +them up all them stairs," remarked Mr. Sanders, when Deborah was +placing her dish of cutlets on the tray prepared for it. + +"Oh, I don't mind it; I'm used to it now," said the good-humoured +girl, as she went off with a quick step. + +Deborah returned with a quieter step than she had departed. "They are +quarrelling like anything!" she exclaimed in a low, frightened voice. +"She's gone into my lord's room, and they are having it out over +something or other." + +Timms, who was then engaged in eating some favourite custard pudding, +looked up. "What? Who? Do you mean my lord and my lady? How do you +know, Deborah?" + +"I heard them wrangling as I went by. I have to pass their rooms, you +know, to get to Mr. Drewitt's rooms, and I heard them still louder as +I came back. They are quarrelling just like common people. Has she a +temper?" + +"No," said Timms. "He has, though; that is, he can be frightfully +passionate at times." + +"He is not thought so in this house," returned Deborah. "To hear my +master and mistress talk, my lord is just an angel upon earth." + +"Ah!" said Timms, sniffing significantly. + +Her supper ended, but not her curiosity, Timms stole a part of the way +upstairs, and listened. But she only came in for the end of the +dispute, as she related to Mr. Sanders on her return. Lady Level, +after some final speech of bitter reproach, passed into her room and +shut the door with a force that shook the walls, and probably shook +Lord Level, who relieved his wrath by a little delicate language. So +much Timms heard; but of what the quarrel had been about, she did not +gather the faintest glimmer. + +The house went to rest. Silence, probably sleep, had reigned within it +for some two hours, and the clock had struck one, when wild calls of +alarm, coupled with the ringing of his bell, issued from Lord Level's +chamber. The servants rose hastily, in terror. Those cries of fear +came not from their lord, but from Lady Level. + +Sanders, partly attired, hastened thither; Timms, in a huge shawl, +opened her door and stopped him; Deborah came flying down the long +corridor. Mrs. Edwards was already in Lord Level's chamber. Lady +Level, in a blue silk wrapping-gown, her cries of alarm over, lay +panting in a chair, extremely agitated; and Lord Level was in a +fainting-fit on his bed, with a stab in his arm, and another in his +side, from which blood was flowing. + + * * * * * + +Some hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth were at breakfast in +Portland Place, when Major Carlen entered without ceremony. His +purple-and-scarlet cloak, without which he rarely stirred out, had +come unfastened and trailed behind him; his face looked scared and +crestfallen. + +"I must see you, I must see you!" cried the Major, throwing up his +hands, as if apologizing for the intrusion. "It's on a matter of life +and death." + +"We have finished breakfast," said Mrs. Ravensworth; and she rose and +left them together. + +The Major strode up to Arnold, his teeth actually chattering. "I told +you what it would be," he muttered. "I warned you of the consequences, +if you helped Blanche to go down there. She has attempted his life." + +Mr. Ravensworth gazed at him inquiringly. + +"By George she has! They had a blowup last night, it seems, and she +has stabbed him. It can be no one else who has done it. When these +delicate girls are put up; made jealous, and that sort of thing; they +are as bad as their more furious sisters. Witness that character of +Scott's--what's her name?--Lucy, in the 'Bride of Lam----'" + +"For pity's sake, Major Carlen, what are you saying?" interrupted Mr. +Ravensworth, scarcely knowing whether the Major was mad or sane, or +had been taking dinner in place of breakfast. "Don't introduce trashy +romance into the woes of real life! Has anything happened at Lord +Level's, or has it not?" + +"He is stabbed, I tell you. One of Lord Level's servants, Sanders, +arrived before I was up, with a note from Blanche. Here, read it!" But +the Major's hand and the note shook together as he held it out. + + Do, dear papa, hasten down! A shocking event has happened to + Lord Level. He has been stabbed in bed. I am terrified out of + my senses. + + BLANCHE LEVEL. + +"Now, she has done it," whispered the Major again, his stony eyes +turned on Mr. Ravensworth in dread. "As sure as that her name's +Blanche Level, it is she who has done it!" + +"Nonsense! Impossible. Have you learnt any of the details?" + +"A few scraps. As much as the man knew. He says they were awakened by +cries in the middle of the night, and found Lord Level had been +stabbed; and her ladyship was with him, screaming, and fainting on a +chair. 'Who did it, Sanders?' said I. 'It's impossible to make out who +did it, sir,' said he; 'there was no one indoors to do it, and all the +house was in bed.' 'What do the police say?' I asked. 'The police are +not called in, sir,' returned he; 'my lord and my lady won't have it +done.' Now, Ravensworth, what can be clearer proof than that? I used +to think her mother had a tendency to insanity; I did, by Jove! she +went once or twice into such a tantrum with me. Though she had a soft, +sweet temper in general, mild as milk." + +"Well, you must go down without delay." + +The grim old fellow put up his hands, which were trembling visibly. "I +wouldn't go down if you gave me a hundred pounds a mile, poor as I +am, just now. Look what a state I'm in, as it is: I had to get Sanders +to hook my cloak for me, and he didn't half do it. I wouldn't +interfere between Blanche and Level for a gold-mine. You must go down +for me; I came to ask you to do so." + +"It is impossible for me to go down today. I wish I knew more. How did +you hear there had been any disagreement between them?" + +"Sanders let it out. He said the women-servants heard Level and his +wife hotly disputing." + +"Where is Sanders?" + +"In your hall. I brought him round with me." + +The man was called in, and was desired to repeat what he knew of the +affair. It was not much, and it has been already stated. + +"Someone must have got in, Sanders," observed Mr. Ravensworth, when he +had listened. + +"Well, sir, I don't know," was the answer. "The curious thing is that +there are no signs of it. All the doors and windows had been fastened +before we went to bed, and they had not been, so far as we can +discover, in the least disturbed." + +"Do you suspect anyone in the house?" + +"Why--no, sir; there's no one we like to suspect," returned Sanders, +coughing dubiously. + +"The servants----" + +"Oh, none of the servants would do such a thing," interrupted Sanders, +very decidedly: and Mr. Ravensworth feared they might be getting upon +dangerous ground. He caught Major Carlen's significant glance. It +said, as plainly as glance ever yet spoke, "The man suspects his +mistress." + +"Is Lord Level's bedroom isolated from the rest of the rooms?" + +"Pretty well, sir, for that. No one sleeps near him but my lady. Her +room opens from his." + +"Could he have done it himself, Sanders?" struck in Major Carlen. "He +has been light-headed from fever." + +"Just at the first moment the same question occurred to me, sir; but +we soon saw that it was not at all likely. The fever had abated, my +lord was quite collected, and the stab in the arm could not have been +done by himself." + +"Was any instrument found?" + +"Yes, sir: a clasp-knife, with a small, sharp blade. It was found on +the floor of my lady's room." + +An ominous silence ensued. + +"Are the stabs dangerous?" inquired Mr. Ravensworth. + +"It is thought they are only slight, sir. The danger will be if they +bring back the fever. His lordship will not have a doctor called +in----" + +"Not have a doctor called in!" + +"He forbids it absolutely, sir. When we reached his room, in answer to +my lady's cries, he had fainted; but he soon recovered, and hearing +Mrs. Edwards speak of the doctor, he refused to have him sent for." + +"You ought to have sent, all the same," imperiously spoke Mr. +Ravensworth. + +Sanders smiled. "Ah, sir, but my lord's will is law." + +Mr. Ravensworth turned to a side-table. He wrote a rapid word to Lady +Level, promising to be with her that evening, gave it to Sanders, and +bade him make the best of his way back to Marshdale. Certain business +of importance was detaining him in town for the day. + +"When you get down there, Ravensworth, you won't say that I wouldn't +go, you know," said the Major. "Say I couldn't." + +"What excuse can I make for you?" + +"Any excuse that comes uppermost. Say I'm in bed with gout. I have +charged Sanders to hold his tongue." + +The day had quite passed before Mr. Ravensworth was able to start on +his journey. It was dark when he reached Upper Marshdale. There he +found Sanders and the solitary fly. + +"Is Lord Level better?" was his first question. + +"A little better this evening, sir, I believe; but he has again been +off his head with fever, and Dr. Macferraty had, after all, to be +called in," replied the man. "My lady is pretty nearly beside herself +too." + +"Have the police been called in yet?" + +"No, sir; no chance of it; my lord and my lady won't have it done." + +"It appears to be an old-fashioned place, Sanders," remarked Mr. +Ravensworth, when they had reached the house. + +"It's the most awkward turn-about place inside, sir, you ever saw; +nothing but passages. But my lord never lives here; he only pays it +promiscuous visits now and then, and brings down no servants with him. +He was kept prisoner here, as may be said, through jamming his knee in +a gateway; and then my lady came down, and we are putting up with all +sorts of inconveniences." + +"Who lives here in general?" + +"Two old retainers of the Level family, sir: both of 'em sights to +look upon; she especially. She dresses up like an old picture." + +Waiting within the doorway to receive Mr. Ravensworth was Mrs. +Edwards. He could not take his eyes from her. He had never seen one +like her in real life, and Sanders's words, "dresses up like an old +picture," recurred to him. He had thought this style of dress +completely gone out of date, _except_ in pictures; and here it was +before him, worn by a living woman! She dropped him a stately curtsey, +that would have served for the prelude to a Court minuet in the palmy +days of Queen Charlotte. + +"Sir, you are the gentleman expected by my lady?" + +"Yes--Mr. Ravensworth." + +"I'll show you in myself, sir." + +Taking up a candle from a marble slab--there was no other light to be +seen--she conducted him through the passage, and, turning down another +which stood at right angles with it, halted at the door of a room. In +answer to a question from Mr. Ravensworth, she said his lordship was +much better within the last hour--quite himself again. "What would you +be pleased to take, sir?" she added. "I will order it to be brought in +to you." + +"I require nothing, thank you." + +But quite a housekeeper of the old school, and essentially hospitable, +she would not take a refusal. "I hope you will, sir: tea--or +coffee--or supper----?" + +"A little coffee, then." + +She dropped another of her ceremonious curtseys, and threw open the +door. "The gentleman you expected, my lady." + +It was another long, bare room, but not the one already mentioned. +Singularly bare and empty it looked to-night. A large fire burned in +the grate, halfway down the room, and in an easy-chair before it +reclined Lady Level--asleep. Two wax-candles stood on the high carved +mantelpiece, and the large oak table behind Lady Level was dark with +age. Everything about the room was dreary, excepting the fire, the +lights, and the sleeper. + +Should he awaken her? He looked at Blanche Level and deliberated. Her +feet rested on a footstool, and her head lay on the low back of the +chair, a cushion under it. She wore an evening dress of light silk, +trimmed with white lace. Her neck and arms, only relieved by the lace, +looked cold and bare in the dreary room, for she wore no ornaments; +nothing of gold or silver was about her--except her wedding-ring. Was +it possible that she had attempted the life of him who had put on that +ring? There was a careworn look on her face as she slept, which +lessened her beauty, and two indented lines rose in her forehead, not +usual to a girl of twenty; her mouth, slightly open, showed her teeth; +and very pretty teeth were Lady Level's. No, thought Mr. Ravensworth, +guilty of that crime she never had been! + +Should he arouse her? A coal fell on to the hearth with a rattle, and +settled the question, for Lady Level opened her eyes. A moment's +dreamy unconsciousness, and then she started up, her face flushing. + +"Oh, Arnold, I beg your pardon! I must have dropped asleep. How good +of you to come!" + +With a burst of tears she held out her hands; it seemed so glad a +relief to have a friend there. + +"Arnold, I am so miserable--so frightened! Why did not papa come down +this morning?" + +"He was----" Mr. Ravensworth searched for an excuse and did not find +one easily "Something kept him in town, and he requested me to come +down in his stead, and see if I could be of any use to you." + +"Have you heard much about it?" she asked, in a whisper. + +"Sanders told me and your father what little he knew. But it appeared +most extraordinary to both of us. Sit down, Lady Level," he continued, +drawing a chair nearer to hers. "You look ill and fatigued." + +"I am not ill; unless uncertainty and anxiety can be called illness. +Have you dined?" + +"Yes; but your housekeeper insists on hospitality, and will send me up +some coffee." + +"Did you ever see so complete a picture as she is? Just like those +engravings we admire in the old frames." + +"Will you describe to me this--the details of the business I came down +to hear?" + +"I am trying to delay it," she said, with a forced laugh--a laugh that +caused Mr. Ravensworth involuntarily to knit his brow, for it spoke of +insincerity. "I think I will not tell you anything about it until +to-morrow morning." + +"I must leave again to-night. The last up-train passes----" + +"Oh, but you will stay all night," she interrupted nervously. "I +cannot be left alone. Mrs. Edwards is preparing a room for you +somewhere." + +"Well, we will discuss that by-and-by. What is this unpleasant +business about Lord Level?" + +"I don't know what it is," she replied. "He has been attacked and +stabbed. I only know that it nearly frightened me to death." + +"By whom was it done?" + +"I don't know," she repeated. "They say the doors and windows were all +fastened, and that no one could have got in." + +Now, strange as it may appear, and firmly impressed as Mr. Ravensworth +was with the innocence of Lady Level, there was a tone in her voice, a +look in her countenance, as she spoke the last few sentences, that he +did not like. Her manner was evasive, and she did not meet his glance +openly. + +"Were you in his room when it happened?" + +"Oh dear no! Since I came down here I have occupied a room next to +his; his dressing-room, I believe, when he stays here at ordinary +times; and I was in bed and asleep at the time." + +"Asleep?" + +"Fast asleep. Until something woke me: and when I entered Lord Level's +room, I found--I found--what had happened." + +"Had it just happened?" + +"Just. I was terrified. After I had called the servants, I think I +nearly fainted. Lord Level quite fainted." + +"But did you not see anyone in the room who could have attacked him?" + +She shook her head. + +"Nor hear any noise?" + +"I--thought I heard a noise; I am positive I thought so. And I heard +Lord Level's voice." + +"That you naturally would hear. A man whose life is being attempted +would not be likely to remain silent. But you must try and give me a +better explanation than this. You say something suddenly awoke you. +What was it?" + +"I cannot tell you," repeated Lady Level. + +"Was it a noise?" + +"N--o; not exactly. I cannot say precisely what it was." + +Mr. Ravensworth deliberated before he spoke again. "My dear Lady +Level, this will not do. If these questions are painful to you, if you +prefer not to trust me, they shall cease, and I will return to town as +wise as I came, without having been able to afford you any assistance +or advice. I think you could tell me more, if you would do so." + +Lady Level burst into tears and grew agitated. A disagreeable +doubt--guilty or not guilty?--stole over Mr. Ravensworth. "Oh, heaven, +that it should be so!" he cried to himself, recalling how good and +gentle she had been through her innocent girlhood. "I came down, +hoping to be to you a true friend," he resumed in a low tone. "If you +will allow me to be so, if you will confide in me, Blanche, come what +may, I will stand by you." + +There was a long silence. Mr. Ravensworth did not choose to break it. +He had said his say, and the rest remained with Lady Level. + +"Lord Level has made me very angry indeed," she broke out, indignation +arresting her tears. "He has made me--almost--hate him." + +"But you are not telling me what occurred." + +"I have told you," she answered. "I was suddenly aroused from sleep, +and then I heard Lord Level's voice, calling 'Blanche! Blanche!' I +went into his room, ran up to him, and he put out his arms and caught +me to him. Then I saw blood upon his nightshirt, and he told me he had +been stabbed. Oh, how I shuddered! I cannot think of it now without +feeling sick and ill, without almost fainting," she added, a shiver +running through her frame. + +Mr. Ravensworth's opinion veered round again. "She do it--nonsense!" +Lady Level continued: + +"'Don't scream; don't scream, Blanche,' he said. 'I am not much hurt, +and I will take care of you,' and he held me to him as though I were +in a vice. I thought he did not want me to alarm the house." + +"Did he keep you there long?" + +"It seemed long to me: I don't suppose it was more than a couple of +minutes. His hold gradually relaxed, and then I saw that he had +fainted. Oh, the terror of that moment! all the more intense that it +had been suppressed. I feared he might bleed to death. I opened the +door, and cried and screamed, and called for the servants; I rushed +back to the room and rang the bell; and then I fell back in the +easy-chair, and could do no more." + +"Well, this is a better explanation than you gave me at first," said +Mr. Ravensworth encouragingly: and she had spoken more readily, +without appearance of disguise. "Then it was Lord Level's calling to +you that first aroused you?" + +"No; oh no; it was not that. It----" she stopped in confusion. "At +least--perhaps it was. It--I can't say." She had relapsed into +evasion again, and once more Mr. Ravensworth was plunged in doubt. He +leaned towards her. + +"I am going to ask you a question, Lady Level, and you must of course +answer it or not as you please. I can only repeat that any confidence +you repose in me shall never be betrayed. Did Lord Level inflict this +injury on himself?" + +"No, that was impossible," she freely answered; "it must have been +done to him." + +"The weapon, I hear, was found in your room." + +"Yes." + +"But how could it have come there?" + +"As if I knew!" + +"Why do you object to the police being called in?" + +"It was Lord Level who objected. When he recovered from his faintness, +and heard them speaking of the police, he called Mr. Drewitt to +him--who is master of the house under Lord Level--and charged him +that nothing of the kind should be done. I would rather they were +here," she added after a pause. "I should feel safer. This morning I +went to my husband and told him if he would not have in the police, +the house searched, and the facts investigated, I should die with +terror. He replied, jestingly, then if I chose to be so foolish, I +must die: the hurt was his, not mine, and if he saw no occasion for +having in the police, and did not choose to have them in, surely I +need not want them. I was perfectly safe, and so was he, he continued, +and he would see that I was kept so. He would not even have the doctor +called in at first; but towards midday, when the fever returned and he +became delirious, Mr. Drewitt sent for him." + +"That seems more strange than all--refusing to have a doctor. He----" + +The arrival of coffee interrupted them. Sanders brought it in in a +silver coffeepot on a silver tray, with biscuits and other light +refreshments; and Mrs. Edwards attended to pour it out. Mr. +Ravensworth repeated to her what he had just said about the doctor. + +"The fact is, sir, my lord does not like Dr. Macferraty," she +rejoined. "None of us in this house do like him; we cannot endure him. +He has not long been in practice, and we look upon him as an upstart. +It is a great misfortune that Mr. Hill is away just now." + +"The usual attendant, I presume, Mrs. Edwards?" + +"Yes, sir; and a friend besides. He and the late lord seemed almost +like brothers, so intimate were they. Mr. Hill's mother is going on +for ninety; she is beginning to break, and he has gone over to see +her. She lives in the Isle of Man. It is almost a month since he went +away." + +"The late lord? Let me see. He was the present lord's uncle, was he +not?" + +"Why, no, sir; he was his father," returned Mrs. Edwards, surprised at +the mistake. "The late peer, Archibald Lord Level, had two sons, Mr. +Francis the heir, and Mr. Archibald. Mr. Francis died of consumption, +and lies buried in the family vault in Marshdale Church; and Mr. +Archibald, the only son left, succeeded to his father." + +"Yes, yes, I had forgotten," said Mr. Ravensworth. "An idea was +floating in my mind that the present peer had not been always the +heir-apparent." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MYSTERY. + + +Silence had fallen upon the room. Coffee had been taken, and the tray +carried away by Mrs. Edwards. It was yet only eight o'clock. Mr. +Ravensworth sat in mental perplexity, believing he had not come to the +bottom of this dreadful affair; no, nor half-way to it. + +But Lady Level was in still greater perplexity, her mind buried in +miserable reverie. A conviction that she was being frightfully wronged +in some way, and that she would not bear it, lay uppermost with her. +Since meeting with the railway boy, Sam Doughty, the previous +afternoon, and hearing the curious information he had disclosed, her +temper had been gradually rising. It was temper that had caused her to +declare herself to Lord Level while the servants (as related in a +former chapter) were at supper in the kitchen, and Mrs. Edwards and +the old steward were shut up in their sitting-room, waiting for their +own supper to be served. The coast thus clear, in went Blanche to her +lord's chamber. Not to open out the budget of her wrongs--he might not +be sufficiently well for that--but to announce herself. To let him see +that she was still in the house, that she had disregarded his +injunction to quit it; and to assure him, in her rebellious spirit, +that she meant to remain in it as long as she pleased. Not a word of +suspected and unorthodox matters did Lady Level breathe, and the +quarrel that arose between them was wholly on the score of her +disobedience. Lord Level was passionately angry, thus to have been set +at naught. He told her that as his wife she owed him obedience, and +must give it to him. She retorted that she would not do so. The +dispute went no further than that; but loud and angry words passed on +both sides. And the next episode in the drama, some three or four +hours later, was the mysterious attack upon Lord Level. + +"Arnold," suddenly spoke her ladyship, looking up from her chair, "I +mean to take a very decisive step." + +"In what way?" he quietly asked, from his seat on the other side of +the fireplace. "To send for the police?" + +"No, no, no; not that. I shall separate from Lord Level." + +"Oh," said Mr. Ravensworth, taken by surprise, and thinking she was +jesting. + +"As soon as he is well again, and able to discuss matters, I shall +demand a separation. I shall _insist_ upon it. If he will not accord +it to me privately, I shall apply for it publicly." + +"Blanche, you will do no such thing!" he exclaimed, rising in +excitement. "You do not know what you are saying." + +"And you do not know how much cause I have for saying it," she +answered. "Lord Level has--has--insulted me." + +"Hush," said Mr. Ravensworth. "I don't quite know what you mean by +insult----" + +"And I cannot tell you," she interrupted, her pretty black satin +slipper beating its indignation on the hearthrug, her cheeks wearing a +delicate rose-flush. "It is a thing I can speak of only to himself." + +"But--I was going to say--Lord Level does not, I feel sure, intrude +personal insult upon you. Anything that may take place outside your +knowledge you had better neither notice nor inquire into." + +Lady Level shook her head defiantly. "I mean to do it." + +"I will not hear another word upon this point," said Mr. Ravensworth +sternly. "You are as yet not much more than a child, young lady; when +you are a little older and wiser, you will see how foolish such ideas +are. For your own sake, Blanche, put them away from you." + +"I wish my dear brother Tom were here!" she petulantly returned. "It +was a shame his regiment should be sent out to India!" + +Mr. Ravensworth drew in his stern lips. He had suspected that of the +dreadful fate of Tom Heriot she must still be ignorant. The suspicion +was now confirmed. + +At that moment the steward, Mr. Drewitt, appeared; and Lady Level +introduced him by name. Mr. Ravensworth saw a pale, venerable man of +sixty years, still strong and upright, looking like a gentleman of the +old, old school, in his plum-coloured suit and white silk stockings, +his silver knee-buckles, his low shoes, and his voluminous cambric +shirt-frill. He brought a message from his lord, who wished to see Mr. +Ravensworth. + +"Who told his lordship that Mr. Ravensworth was here?" exclaimed Lady +Level quickly. + +"Madam, it was I. My lord heard someone being shown in to your +ladyship, and inquired who had come. I am sorry he has asked for you, +sir," candidly added the steward, as they left the room together. +"The fever has abated, but the least excitement will bring it on +again." + +Lady Level was sorry also. She did not care that Mr. Ravensworth's +presence in the house should be known upstairs. The fact was that one +day when she and her husband were on their homeward journey from +Savoy, and Blanche was indulging in odds and ends of grievances +against her lord, as in her ill-feeling towards him she was then +taking to do, she had spoken a few words in sheer perverseness of +spirit to make him jealous of Arnold Ravensworth. Lord Level said +nothing, but he took the words to heart. He had not liked that +gentleman before; he hated him now. Blanche blushed for herself as she +recalled it. + +Of course, it was not the visitor likely to give most pleasure to Lord +Level. As the steward introduced Mr. Ravensworth and left them +together, Lord Level regarded him with a cold, stern glance. + +"So it is you!" he exclaimed. "May I ask what brings you down here? +Did my lady send for you?" + +"No," answered Mr. Ravensworth, advancing towards the bed. "Major +Carlen called at my house this morning and requested me to come down. +I could not reach Marshdale before to-night." + +"Major Carlen? Oh! very good. Major Carlen dare not interfere between +me and my wife; and he knows that." + +"So far as I believe, Major Carlen has no intention or wish to +interfere. Lady Level sent to him in her alarm, and he requested me to +come down in his place." + +"If Major Carlen has entered into an arrangement with you to come to +my house and pry into matters that concern myself alone----" + +"I beg your lordship's pardon," was the curt interruption. "I do not +like or respect Major Carlen sufficiently well to enter into any +'arrangement' with him. I came down here, certainly in compliance with +his desire, but in a spirit of kindness towards Lady Level, and to be +of assistance to yourself if it were possible." + +"How came you to bring Lady Level over from Germany?" + +"She wished to come over." + +"And I wished and desired her to stay there until I could join her. Do +you call _that_ interference?" + +"It was nothing of the kind. On the morning of our departure from the +inn, Lady Level told my wife and myself that she should take the +opportunity to travel with us. She and her servants were even then +dressed for the journey, and her travelling-carriage stood ready +packed in the yard. If she did this against your wish, I am in no way +responsible for it. It was not my place to dictate to her; to say she +should go, or should remain. Be assured, my lord, I am the last man in +the world unduly to interfere with other people; and my coming down +now was entirely brought about by Major Carlen." + +Lord Level was not insensible to reason. He remained silent for a +time, the angry expression gradually leaving his face. Mr. Ravensworth +spoke: + +"I hope this injury to your lordship will not prove a grave one." + +"It is a trifle," was the answer; "nothing but a trifle. It is my knee +that keeps me prostrate here more than anything else; and I have +intermittent fever with it." + +"Can I be of service to you? If so, command me." + +"Much obliged. No, I do not want anyone to be of service to me, if you +allude to this stabbing business. Some drunken fellow got in, and----" + +"The servants say the doors were all left fastened, and were so +found." + +"The servants say so to conceal their carelessness," cried Lord Level, +as a contortion of pain crossed his face. "This knee gives me twinges +at times like a red-hot iron." + +"If anyone had broken in, especially any----" + +"Mr. Ravensworth," imperatively interrupted Lord Level, "it is my +pleasure that this affair should not be investigated. I say that some +man got in--a poacher, probably, who must have been the worse for +drink--and he attacked me, not knowing what he was doing. To have a +commotion made over it would only excite me in my present feverish +condition. Therefore I shall put up with the injury, and shall be well +all the sooner for doing so. You will be so obliging," he added, some +sarcasm in his tone, "as to do the same." + +But now, Mr. Ravensworth did not show himself wise in that moment. He +urged, in all good faith, a different course upon his lordship. The +presumption angered and excited Lord Level. In no time, as it seemed, +and without sufficient cause, the fever returned and mounted to the +brain. His face grew crimson, his eye wild; his voice rose almost to a +scream, and he flung his uninjured arm about the bed. Mr. Ravensworth, +in self-reproach for what he had done, looked for the bell and rang +it. + +"Drewitt, are the doors fastened?" raved his lordship in delirium, as +the steward hastened in. "Do you hear me, Drewitt? Have you looked to +the doors? You must have left one of them open! Where are the keys? +The keys, I say, Drewitt!--What brings that man here?" + +"You had better go down, sir, out of his sight," whispered the +steward, for it was at Mr. Ravensworth the invalid was excitedly +pointing. "I knew what it would be if he began talking. And he was so +much better!" + +"His lordship excites himself for nothing," was the deprecating +answer. + +"Why, of course," said Mr. Drewitt. "It is the nature of +fever-patients to do so." + +Mrs. Edwards came in with appliances to cool the heated head, and Mr. +Ravensworth returned to the sitting-room below. Blanche was not there. +Close upon that, Dr. Macferraty called. After he had been with his +patient and dressed the wounds, he came bustling into the +sitting-room. This loud young man had a nose that turned straight up, +giving an impudent look to the face, and wide-open, round green eyes. +But no doubt he had his good points, and was a skilful surgeon. + +"You are a friend of the family, I hear, sir," he began. "I hope you +intend to order an investigation into this extraordinary affair?" + +"I have no authority for doing so. And Lord Level does not wish it +done." + +"A fig for Lord Level! He does not know what he's saying," cried Dr. +Macferraty. "There never was so monstrous a thing heard of as that a +nobleman should be stabbed in his own bed and the assassin be let off +scot-free! We need not look far for the culprit!" + +The last words, significantly spoken, jarred on Mr. Ravensworth's +ears. "Have you a suspicion?" he asked. + +"I can put two and two together, sir, and find they make four. The +windows were fast; the doors were fast; there was no noise, no +disturbance, no robbery: well, then, what deduction have we to fall +back upon but that the villain, he or she, is an inmate of the house?" + +Mr. Ravensworth's pulses beat a shade more quickly. "Do you suspect +one of the servants?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"But the servants are faithful and respectable. They are not suspected +indoors, I assure you." + +"Perhaps not; they are out-of-doors, though. The whole neighbourhood +is in commotion over it; and how Drewitt and the old lady can let +these two London servants be at large is the talk of the place." + +"Oh, it is the London servants you suspect, then, or one of them?" + +"Look here," said Dr. Macferraty, dropping his voice and bending +forward in his chair till his face almost touched Mr. Ravensworth's: +"that the deed was done by an inmate of the house is _certain_. No one +got in, or could have got in; it is nonsense to suggest it. The +inmates consist of Lady Level and the servants only. If you take it +from the servants, you must lay it upon her." + +No answer. + +"Well," went on the doctor, "it is impossible to suspect _her_. A +delicate, refined girl, as she is, could not do so evil a thing. So we +must needs look to the servants. Deborah would not do it; the stout +old cook could not. She was in bed ill, besides, and slept through all +the noise and confusion. The two other servants, Sanders and Timms, +are strangers." + +"I feel sure they no more did it than I," impulsively spoke Mr. +Ravensworth. + +"Then you would fall back upon Lady Level?" + +"No. No," flashed Mr. Ravensworth. "The bare suggestion of the idea is +an insult to her." + +Dr. Macferraty drew himself back in his chair. "There's a mystery in +the affair, look at it which way you will, sir," he cried raspingly. +"My lord says he did not recognise the assassin; but, if he did not, +why should he forbid investigation? Put it as you do, that the two +servants are innocent--why, then, I fairly own I am puzzled. Another +thing puzzles me: the knife was found in Lady Level's chamber, yet she +protests that she slept through it all--was only awakened by his +lordship calling to her when it was over." + +"It may have been flung in." + +"No; it was carried in; for blood had dripped from it all along the +floor." + +"Has the weapon been recognised?" + +"Not that I am aware of. No one owns to knowing it. Anyway, it is an +affair that ought to be, and that must be, inquired into officially," +concluded the doctor from the corridor, as he said good-night and went +bustling out. + +Mr. Ravensworth, standing at the sitting-room door, saw him meet the +steward, who must have overheard the words, and now advanced with +cautious steps. Touching Mr. Ravensworth's arm, he drew him within the +shadow cast by a remote corner. + +"Sir," he whispered, "my lady told Mrs. Edwards that you were a firm +friend of hers; a sure friend?" + +"I trust I am, Mr. Drewitt." + +"Then let it drop, sir; it is no common robber who has done this. Let +it drop, for her sake and my lord's." + +Mr. Ravensworth felt painfully perplexed. Those few words, spoken by +the faithful old steward, were more fraught with suspicion against +Lady Level than anything he had yet heard. + +Returning to the sitting-room, pacing it to and fro in his perplexity +for he knew not how long, he was looking at his watch to ascertain the +time, when Lady Level came in. She had been in Lord Level's +sitting-room upstairs, she said, the one opposite his bed-chamber. He +was somewhat calmer now. Mr. Ravensworth thought that he must now be +going. + +"I have been of no assistance to you, Lady Level; I do not see that I +can be of any," he observed. "But should anything arise in which you +think I can help you, send for me." + +"What do you expect to arise?" she hastily inquired. + +"Nay, I expect nothing." + +"Did Lord----" Lady Level suddenly stopped and turned her head. Just +within the room stood two policemen. She rose with a startled +movement, and shrank close to Mr. Ravensworth, crying out, as for +protection. "Arnold! Arnold!" + +"Do not agitate yourself," he whispered. "What is it that you want?" +he demanded, moving towards the men. + +"We have come about this attack on Lord Level, sir," replied one of +them. + +"Who sent for you?" + +"Don't know anything about that, sir. Our superior ordered us here, +and is coming on himself. We must examine the fastenings of this +window, sir, by the lady's leave." + +They passed up the room, and Lady Level left it, followed by Mr. +Ravensworth. Outside stood Deborah, aghast. + +"They have been in the kitchen this ten minutes, my lady," she +whispered, "asking questions of us all--Mr. Sanders and Mrs. Timms and +me and cook, all separate. And now they are going round the house to +search it, and see to the fastenings." + +The men came out again and moved away, Deborah following slowly in +their wake: she appeared to regard them with somewhat of the curiosity +we give to a wild animal: but Mr. Ravensworth recalled her. Lady Level +entered the room again and sat down by the fire. Mr. Ravensworth again +observed that he must be going: he had barely time to walk to the +station and catch the train. + +"Arnold, if you go, and leave me with these men in the house, I will +never forgive it!" she passionately uttered. + +He looked at her in surprise. "I thought you wished for the presence +of the police. You said you should regard them as a protection." + +"Did _you_ send for them?" she breathlessly exclaimed. + +"Certainly not." + +She sank into a reverie--a deep, unpleasant reverie that compressed +her lips and contracted her brow. Suddenly she lifted her head. + +"He is my husband, after all, Arnold." + +"To be sure he is." + +"And therefore--and therefore--there had better be no investigation." + +"Why?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, scarcely above his breath. + +"Because he does not wish it," she answered, bending her face +downwards. "He forbade me to call in aid, or to suffer it to be called +in; and, as I say, he is my husband. Will you stop those men in their +search? will you send them away?" + +"I do not think I have power to do so." + +"You can forbid them in Lord Level's name. I give you full authority: +as he would do, were he capable of acting. Arnold, I _will_ have them +out of the house. I _will_." + +"What is it that you fear from them?" + +"I fear--I cannot tell you what I fear. They might question me." + +"And if they did?--you can only repeat to them what you told me." + +"No, it must not be," she shivered. "I--I--dare not let it be." + +Mr. Ravensworth paused. "Blanche," he said, in low tones, "have you +told me all?" + +"Perhaps not," she slowly answered. + +"'Perhaps!'" + +"There!" she exclaimed, springing up in wild excitement. "I hear those +men upstairs, and you stand here idly talking! Order them away in Lord +Level's name." + +Desperately perplexed, Mr. Ravensworth flew to the stairs. The +steward, pale and agitated, met him half-way up. "It must not be +looked into by the police," he whispered. "Sir, it must not. Will you +speak to them? you may have more weight with them than I. Say you are +a friend of my lord's. I strongly suspect this is the work of that +meddling Macferraty." + +Arnold Ravensworth moved forward as one in a dream, an under-current +of thought asking what all this mystery meant. The steward followed. +They found the men in one of the first rooms: not engaged in the +examination of its fastenings or its closets (and the whole house +abounded in closets and cupboards), but with their heads together, +talking in whispers. + +In answer to Mr. Ravensworth's peremptory demand, made in Lord Level's +name, that the search should cease and the house be freed of their +presence, they civilly replied that they must not leave, but would +willingly retire to the kitchen and there await their superior +officer, who was on his road to the house: and they went down +accordingly. Mr. Ravensworth returned to the sitting-room to acquaint +Lady Level with the fact, but found she had disappeared. In a moment +she came in, scared, her hands lifted in dismay, her breath coming in +gasps. + +"Give me air!" she cried, rushing to the window and motioning to have +it opened. "I shall faint; I shall die." + +"What ever is the matter?" questioned Mr. Ravensworth, as he succeeded +in undoing the bolt of the window, and throwing up its middle +compartment. At that moment a loud ring came to the outer gate. It +increased her terror, and she broke into a flood of tears. + +"My dear young lady, let me be your friend," he said in his grave +concern. "Tell me the whole truth. I know you have not done so yet. +Let it be what it will, I promise to--if possible--shield you from +harm." + +"Those men are saying in the kitchen that it was I who attacked Lord +Level; I overheard them," she shuddered, the words coming from her +brokenly in her agitation. + +"Make a friend of me; you shall never have a truer," he continued, for +really he knew not what else to urge, and he could not work in the +dark. "Tell me all from beginning to end." + +But she only shivered in silence. + +"Blanche!--did--you--do--it?" + +"No," she answered, with a low burst of heartrending sobs. "_But I saw +it done._" + + END OF VOL. I. + + + BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD. + + _S. & H._ + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + + +Inconsistent and archaic spelling retained. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Charles Strange Vol. 1 +(of 3), by Mrs. Henry Wood + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE *** + +***** This file should be named 38623-8.txt or 38623-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/6/2/38623/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: The Story of Charles Strange Vol. 1 (of 3) + A Novel + +Author: Mrs. Henry Wood + +Release Date: January 20, 2012 [EBook #38623] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="621" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The Story of Charles Strange<br />Mrs. Henry Wood</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img class="border2" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="400" height="640" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h1 class="booktitle">THE<br />STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE</h1> + +<p class="h4">A Novel</p> + +<p class="h5">BY</p> + +<p class="h3">MRS. HENRY WOOD</p> + +<p class="h5">AUTHOR OF "EAST LYNNE," ETC.</p> + +<p class="h5">IN THREE VOLUMES<br /> +VOL. I.</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h5">LONDON<br /> +RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON</p> + +<p class="h6">Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen<br /> +1888<br /> +[<i>All Rights Reserved</i>]</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i001a.jpg" width="400" height="117" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2>CONTENTS OF VOL. I</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdlfirst">CHAPTER</td> + <td class="tdrfirst">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">EARLY DAYS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHANGES</a></td> + <td class="tdr">21</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">MR. SERJEANT STILLINGFAR</a></td> + <td class="tdr">47</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IN ESSEX STREET</a></td> + <td class="tdr">73</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">WATTS'S WIFE</a></td> + <td class="tdr">95</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">BLANCHE HERIOT</a></td> + <td class="tdr">114</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">TRIED AT THE OLD BAILEY</a></td> + <td class="tdr">144</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VIII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">THE VINE-COVERED COTTAGE AT PISA</a></td> + <td class="tdr">175</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IX.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">COMPLICATIONS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">194</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">X.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">THE HOUSE AT MARSHDALE</a></td> + <td class="tdr">216</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">THE QUARREL</a></td> + <td class="tdr">244</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">XII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">MYSTERY</a></td> + <td class="tdr">274</td> +</tr> +</table></div> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i001b.jpg" width="150" height="183" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class='chap' /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i002a.jpg" width="400" height="114" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2>THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE.</h2> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i002b.jpg" width="150" height="200" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[1}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i003a.jpg" width="400" height="111" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p class="h2">THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE.</p> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<p class="h3">EARLY DAYS.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-i-comma.jpg" width="85" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">I,</span> CHARLES STRANGE</b>, have called this my own story, and shall myself +tell a portion of it to the reader; not all.</p> + +<hr class="tb clearboth" /> + +<p>May was quickly passing. The drawing-room window of White Littleham +Rectory stood open to the sunshine and the summer air: for the years +of warm springs and long summers had not then left the land. The +<span class="pagenum">[2}</span> +incumbent of the parish of White Littleham, in Hampshire, was the +Reverend Eustace Strange. On a sofa, near the window, lay his wife, in +her white dress and yellow silk shawl. A young and lovely lady, with a +sweet countenance; her eyes the colour of blue-bells, her face growing +more transparent day by day, her cheeks too often a fatal hectic; +altogether looking so delicately fragile that the Rector must surely +be blind not to suspect the truth. <i>She</i> suspected it. Nay, she no +longer suspected; she knew. Perhaps it was that he would not do so.</p> + +<p>"Charley!"</p> + +<p>I sat at the end of the room in my little state chair, reading a new +book of fairy tales that papa had given me that morning. He was as +orthodox a divine as ever lived, but not strait-laced, and he liked +children to read fairy tales. At the moment I was deep in a tale +called "Finetta," about a young princess shut up in a high tower. To +me it was enchanting.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[3}</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma."</p> + +<p>"Come to me, dear."</p> + +<p>Leaving the precious book behind me, I crossed the room to the sofa. +My mother raised herself. Holding me to her with one hand, she pushed +with the other the hair from my face and gazed into it. That my face +was very much like hers, I knew. It had been said a hundred times in +my hearing that I had her dark-blue eyes and her soft brown hair and +her well-carved features.</p> + +<p>"My pretty boy," she said caressingly, "I am so sorry! I fear you are +disappointed. I think we might have had them. You were always promised +a birthday party, you know, when you should be seven years old."</p> + +<p>There had been some discussion about it. My mother thought the little +boys and girls might come; but papa and Leah said, "No—it would +fatigue her."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind a bit, mamma," I answered. "I have my book, and it is so +pretty. They can come next year, you know, when you are well again."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[4}</span></p> + +<p>She sighed deeply. Getting up from the sofa, she took up two books +that were on the stand behind her, and sat down again. Early in the +spring some illness had seized her that I did not understand. She +ought to have been well again by this time, but was not so. She left +her room and came downstairs, and saw friends when they called: but +instead of growing stronger she grew weaker.</p> + +<p>"She was never robust, and it has been too much for her," I overheard +Leah say to one of the other servants, in allusion to the illness.</p> + +<p>"What if I should not be here at your next birthday, Charley?" she +asked sadly, holding me to her side as she sat.</p> + +<p>"But where should you be, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my child, I think—sometimes I think—that by that time I may +be in heaven."</p> + +<p>I felt suddenly seized with a sort of shivering. I neither spoke nor +cried; at seven years old many a child only imperfectly<span class="pagenum">[5}</span> realizes the +full meaning of anything like this. My eyes became misty.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Charley. All that God does must be for the best, you know: +and heaven is a better world than this."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, you must get well; you must!" I cried, words and tears +bursting forth together. "Won't you come out, and grow strong in the +sunshine? See how warm and bright it is! Look at the flowers in the +grass!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, dear; it is all very bright and warm and beautiful," she said, +looking across the garden to the field beyond it. "The grass is +growing long, and the buttercups and cowslips and blue-bells are all +there. Soon they will be cut down and the field will be bare. Next +year the grass and the flowers will spring up again, Charlie: but we, +once we are taken, will spring up no more in this world: only in +heaven."</p> + +<p>"But don't you think you <i>will</i> get well, mamma? Can't you <i>try</i> to?"</p> + +<p>"Well, dear—yes, I will try to do so. I<span class="pagenum">[6}</span> <i>have</i> tried. I am trying +every day, Charley, for I should not like to go away and leave my +little boy."</p> + +<p>With a long sigh, that it seemed to me I often heard from her now, she +lay for a moment with her head on the back of the sofa and closed her +eyes. Then she sat forward again, and took up one of the books.</p> + +<p>"I meant to give you a little book to-day, Charley, as well as papa. +Look, it is called 'Sintram.' A lady gave it me when I was twelve +years old; and I have always liked it. You are too young to understand +it yet, but you will do so later."</p> + +<p>"Here's some poetry!" I cried, turning the leaves over. The pleasure +of the gift had chased away my tears. Young minds are +impressionable—and had she not just said she would try to get well?</p> + +<p>"I will repeat it to you, Charley," she answered. "Listen."</p> + +<p>"Repeat it?" I interrupted. "Do you know it by heart?—all?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[7}</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, all; every line of it.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'When death is drawing near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy heart sinks with fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thy limbs fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then raise thy hands and pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Him who cheers the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through the dark vale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'See'st thou the eastern dawn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear'st thou, in the red morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The angels' song?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! lift thy drooping head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou who in gloom and dread<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hast lain so long.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Death comes to set thee free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! meet him cheerily,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As thy true friend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all thy fears shall cease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in eternal peace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy penance end.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>You see, Charley, death comes not as a foe, but as a friend to those +who have learnt to look for him, for he is sent by God," she continued +in a loving voice as she smoothed back my hair with her gentle hand. +"I want you to learn this bit of poetry by heart, and to say it +sometimes to yourself in future years. And—and—should mamma have +gone away, then it will be pleasant to you to remember that the +angels' song came to<span class="pagenum">[8}</span> cheer her—as I know it will come—when she was +setting out on her journey. Oh! very pleasant! and the same song and +the same angel will cheer your departure, my darling child, when the +appointed hour for it shall come to you."</p> + +<p>"Shall we <i>see</i> the angel?"</p> + +<p>"Well—yes—with the eye of faith. And it is said that some good +people have really seen him; have seen the radiant messenger who has +come to take them to the eternal shores. You will learn it, Charley, +won't you—and never forget it?"</p> + +<p>"I'll learn it all, every verse; and I will never forget it, mamma."</p> + +<p>"I am going to give you this book, also, Charley," she went on, +bringing forward the other. "You——"</p> + +<p>"Why, that's your Bible, mamma!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, it is my Bible; but I should like it to be yours. And I +hope it will be as good a friend to you as it is now to me. I shall +still use it myself, Charley, for a little while. You will lend it me, +won't<span class="pagenum">[9}</span> you? and later, it will be all your own."</p> + +<p>"Shall you buy another for yourself, then?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer. Her face was turned to the window; her yearning +eyes were fixed in thought upon the blue sky; her hot hands were +holding mine. In a moment, to my consternation, she bent her face upon +mine and burst into a flood of tears. What I should have said or done, +I know not; but at that moment my father came swiftly out of his +study, into the room. He was a rather tall man with a pale, grave +face, very much older than his wife.</p> + +<p>"Do you chance to remember, Lucy, where that catalogue of books was +put that came last week? I want——"</p> + +<p>Thus far had he spoken, when he saw the state of things; both crying +together. He broke off in vexation.</p> + +<p>"How can you be so silly, Lucy—so imprudent! I will not have it. You +don't allow yourself a chance to get well—giving<span class="pagenum">[10}</span> way to these low +spirits! What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"It is nothing," she replied, with another of those long sighs. "I was +talking a little to Charley, and a fit of crying came on. It has not +harmed me, Eustace."</p> + +<p>"Charley, boy, I saw some fresh sweet violets down in the dingle this +morning. Go you and pick some for mamma," he said. "Never mind your +hat: it is as warm as midsummer."</p> + +<p>I was ready for the dingle, which was only across the field, and to +pick violets at any time, and I ran out. Leah Williams was coming in +at the garden gate.</p> + +<p>"Now, Master Charles! Where are you off to? And without your hat!"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to the dingle, to get some fresh violets for mamma. Papa +said my hat did not matter."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Leah, glancing doubtfully at the window. I glanced too. He +had sat down on the sofa by mamma then, and was talking to her +earnestly, his head bent. She<span class="pagenum">[11}</span> had her handkerchief up to her face. +Leah attacked me again.</p> + +<p>"You've been crying, you naughty boy! Your eyes are wet still. What +was that for?"</p> + +<p>I did not say what: though I had much ado to keep the tears from +falling. "Leah," I whispered, "do you think mamma will get well?"</p> + +<p>"Bless the child!" she exclaimed, after a pause, during which she had +looked again at the window and back at me. "Why, what's to hinder +it?—with all this fine, beautiful warm weather! Don't you turn +fanciful, Master Charley, there's a darling! And when you've picked +the violets, you come to me; I'll find a slice of cake for you."</p> + +<p>Leah had been with us about two years, as upper servant, attending +upon mamma and me, and doing the sewing. She was between twenty and +thirty then, an upright, superior young woman, kind in the main, +though with rather a hard face, and faithful as the day. The other +servants<span class="pagenum">[12}</span> called her Mrs. Williams, for she had been married and was a +widow. Not tall, she yet looked so, she was so remarkably thin. Her +gray eyes were deep-set, her curls were black, and she had a high, +fresh colour. Everyone, gentle and simple, wore curls at that time.</p> + +<p>The violets were there in the dingle, sure enough; both blue and +white. I picked a handful, ran in with them, and put them on my +mother's lap. The Rector was sitting by her still, but he got up then.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Charley, they are very sweet," she said with a smile—"very sweet +and lovely. Thank you, my precious boy, my darling."</p> + +<p>She kissed me a hundred times. She might have kissed me a hundred +more, but papa drew me away.</p> + +<p>"Do not tire yourself any more to-day, Lucy; it is not good for you. +Charley, boy, you can take your fairy tales and show them to Leah."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The day of the funeral will never fade<span class="pagenum">[13}</span> from my memory; and yet I can +only recall some of its incidents. What impressed me most was that +papa did not stand at the grave in his surplice reading the service, +as I had seen him do at other funerals. Another clergyman was in his +place, and he stood by me in silence, holding my hand. And he told me, +after we returned home, that mamma was not herself in the cold dark +grave, but a happy angel in heaven looking down upon me.</p> + +<p>And so the time went on. Papa was more grave than of yore, and taught +me my lessons daily. Leah indulged and scolded me alternately, often +sang to me, for she had a clear voice, and when she was in a good +humour would let me read "Sintram" and the fairy tales to her.</p> + +<p>The interest of mamma's money—which was now mine—brought in three +hundred a year. She had enjoyed it all; I was to have (or, rather, my +father for me) just as much of it as the two trustees chose to allow, +for it was strictly tied up in their<span class="pagenum">[14}</span> hands. When I was twenty-four +years of age—not before—the duties of the trustees would cease, and +the whole sum, six thousand pounds, would come into my uncontrolled +possession. One of the trustees was my mother's uncle, Mr. Serjeant +Stillingfar; the other I did not know. Of course the reader will +understand that I do not explain these matters from my knowledge at +that time; but from what I learnt when I was older.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Nearly a year had gone by, and it was warm spring weather again. I sat +in my brown-holland dress in the dingle amidst the wild flowers. A lot +of cowslips lay about me; I had been picking the flowers from the +stalks to make into a ball. The sunlight flickered through the trees, +still in their tender green; the sky was blue and cloudless. My straw +hat, with broad black ribbons, had fallen off; my white socks and +shoes were stretched out before me. Fashion is always in extremes. +Then it was the<span class="pagenum">[15}</span> custom to dress a child simply up to quite an +advanced age.</p> + +<p>Why it should have been so, I know not; but while I sat, there came +over me a sudden remembrance of the day when I had come to the dingle +to pick those violets for mamma, and a rush of tears came on. Leah +took good care of me, but she was not my mother. My father was good, +and grave, and kind, but he did not give me the love that she had +given. A mother's love would never be mine again, and I knew it; and +in that moment was bitterly feeling it.</p> + +<p>One end of the string was held between my teeth, the other end in my +left hand, and my eyes were wet with tears. I strung the cowslips as +well as I could. But it was not easy, and I made little progress.</p> + +<p>"S'all I hold it for oo?"</p> + +<p>Lifting my eyes in surprise—for I had thought the movement in the +dingle was only Leah, coming to see after me—there stood the sweetest +fairy of a child before me. The sleeves of her cotton frock and<span class="pagenum">[16}</span> white +pinafore were tied up with black ribbons; her face was delicately +fair, her eyes were blue as the sky, and her light curls fell low on +her pretty neck. My child heart went out to her with a bound, then and +there.</p> + +<p>"What oo trying for, 'ittle boy?"</p> + +<p>"I was crying for mamma. She's gone away from me to heaven."</p> + +<p>"S'all I tiss oo?"</p> + +<p>And she put her little arms round my neck, without waiting for +permission, and gave me a dozen kisses.</p> + +<p>"Now we make the ball, 'ittle boy. S'all oo dive it to me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will give it to you. What is your name?"</p> + +<p>"Baby. What is oors?"</p> + +<p>"Charles. Do you——"</p> + +<p>"You little toad of a monkey!—giving me this hunt! How came you to +run away?"</p> + +<p>The words were spoken by a tall, handsome boy, quite old compared with +me, who had come dashing through the dingle. He<span class="pagenum">[17}</span> caught up the child +and began kissing her fondly. So the words were not meant to hurt her.</p> + +<p>"It was oo ran away, Tom."</p> + +<p>"But I ordered you to stop where I left you—and to sit still till I +came back again. If you run away by yourself in the wood, you'll meet +a great bear some day and he'll eat you up. Mind that, Miss Blanche. +The mamsie is in a fine way; thinks you're lost, you silly little +thing."</p> + +<p>"Dat 'towslip ball for me, Tom."</p> + +<p>Master Tom condescended to turn his attention upon me and the ball. I +guessed now who they were: a family named Heriot, who had recently +come to live at the pretty white cottage on the other side the copse. +Tom was looking at me with his fine dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"You are the parson's son, I take it, youngster. I saw you in the +parson's pew on Sunday with an old woman."</p> + +<p>"She is not an old woman," I said, jealous for Leah.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[18}</span></p> + +<p>"A young one, then. What's your name?"</p> + +<p>"Charles Strange."</p> + +<p>"He dot no mamma, he try for her," put in the child. "Oo come to my +mamma, ittle boy; she love oo and tiss oo."</p> + +<p>"When I have made your ball."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother the ball!" put in Tom. "We can't wait for that: the +mamsie's in a rare way already. You can come home with us if you like, +youngster, and finish your ball afterwards."</p> + +<p>Leaving the cowslips, I caught up my hat and we started, Tom carrying +the child. I was a timid, sensitive little fellow, but took courage to +ask him a question.</p> + +<p>"Is your name Tom Heriot?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, it <i>is</i> Tom Heriot—if it does you any good to know it. +And this is Miss Blanche Heriot. And I wish you were a bit bigger and +older; I'd make you my playfellow."</p> + +<p>We were through the copse in a minute or two and in sight of the white +cottage, over the field beyond it. Mrs. Heriot stood<span class="pagenum">[19}</span> at the garden +gate, looking out. She was a pretty little plump woman, with a soft +voice, and wore a widow's cap. A servant in a check apron was with +her, and knew me. Mrs. Heriot scolded Blanche for running away from +Tom while she caressed her, and turned to smile at me.</p> + +<p>"It is little Master Strange," I heard the maid say to her. "He lost +his mother a year ago."</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor little fellow!" sighed Mrs. Heriot, as she held me before +her and kissed me twice. "What a nice little lad it is!—what lovely +eyes! My dear, you can come here whenever you like, and play with Tom +and Blanche."</p> + +<p>Some few years before, this lady had married Colonel Heriot, a widower +with one little boy—Thomas. After that, Blanche was born: so that she +and Tom were, you see, only half-brother-and sister. When Blanche was +two years old—she was three now—Colonel Heriot died, and Mrs. Heriot +had come into the country to economize.<span class="pagenum">[20}</span> She was not at all well off; +had, indeed, little beyond what was allowed her with the two children: +all their father's fortune had lapsed to them, and she had no control +over it. Tom had more than Blanche, and was to be brought up for a +soldier.</p> + +<p>As we stood in a group outside the gate, papa came by. Seeing me, he +naturally stopped, took off his hat to Mrs. Heriot, and spoke. That is +how the acquaintanceship began, without formal introduction on either +side. Taking the pretty little girl in his arms, he began talking to +her: for he was very fond of children. Mrs. Heriot said something to +him in a low, feeling tone about his wife's death.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he sighed in answer, as he put down the child: "I shall never +recover her loss. I live only in the hope of rejoining her <span class="smcap">there</span>."</p> + +<p>He glanced up at the blue sky: the pure, calm, peaceful canopy of +heaven.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[21}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i004a.jpg" width="400" height="109" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<p class="h3">CHANGES.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-i-quote.jpg" width="100" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">"I</span> SHALL</b> never recover her loss. I live only in the hope of rejoining +her <span class="smcap">there</span>."</p> + +<p>It has been said that the vows of lovers are ephemeral as characters +written on the sand of the sea-shore. Surely may this also be said of +the regrets mourners give to the departed! For time has a habit of +soothing the deepest sorrow; and the remembrance which is piercing our +hearts so poignantly to-day in a few short months will have lost its +sting.</p> + +<p>My father was quite sincere when speaking the above words: meant and +believed<span class="pagenum">[22}</span> them to the very letter. Yet before the spring and summer +flowers had given place to those of autumn, he had taken unto himself +another wife: Mrs. Heriot.</p> + +<p>The first intimation of what was in contemplation came to me from +Leah. I had offended her one day; done something wrong, or not done +something right; and she fell upon me with a stern reproach, +especially accusing me of ingratitude.</p> + +<p>"After all my care of you, Master Charles—my anxiety and trouble to +keep your clothes nice and make you good! What shall you do when I +have gone away?"</p> + +<p>"But you are not going away, Leah."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that. We are to have changes here, it seems, and I'm not +sure that they will suit me."</p> + +<p>"What changes?" I asked.</p> + +<p>She sat at the nursery window, which had the same aspect as the +drawing-room below, darning my socks; I knelt on a chair, looking out. +It was a rainy day, and the drops pattered thickly against the panes.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[23}</span></p> + +<p>"Well, there's going to be—some company in the house," said Leah, +taking her own time to answer me. "A <i>lot</i> of them. And I think +perhaps there'll be no room for me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes there will. Who is it, Leah?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder but it's those people over yonder," pointing her +long darning-needle in the direction of the dingle.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing there but mosses and trees, Leah. No people."</p> + +<p>"There <i>is</i> a little farther off," nodded Leah. "There's Mrs. Heriot +and her two children."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you say they are coming here!—do you mean it?" I cried in +ecstasy. "Are they coming for a long visit, Leah?—to have breakfast +here, and dine and sleep? Oh, how glad I am!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" groaned Leah; "perhaps you may be glad just at first; you are +but a little shallow-sensed boy, Charley: but it may turn out for +better, or it may turn out for worse."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[24}</span></p> + +<p>To my intense astonishment, she dropped her work, burst into tears, +and threw her hands up to her face. I felt very uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Leah?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it is that I'm a silly," she answered, looking up and drying +her eyes. "I got thinking of the past, Master Charley, of your dear +mamma, and all that. It <i>is</i> solitary for you here, and perhaps you'll +be happier with some playfellows."</p> + +<p>I went on staring at her.</p> + +<p>"And look here, Master Charles, don't repeat what I've said; not to +anybody, mind; or perhaps they won't come at all," concluded Leah, +administering a slight shaking by way of enforcing her command.</p> + +<p>There came a day—it was in that same week—when everything seemed to +go wrong, as far as I was concerned. I had been at warfare with Leah +in the morning, and was so inattentive (I suppose) at lessons in the +afternoon that papa scolded me, and gave me an extra Latin exercise to +do when<span class="pagenum">[25}</span> they were over, and shut me up in the study until it was +done. Then Leah refused jam for tea, which I wanted; saying that jam +was meant for good boys, not for naughty ones. Altogether I was in +anything but an enviable mood when I went out later into the garden. +The most cruel item in the whole was that I could not see <i>I</i> had been +to blame, but thought everyone else was. The sun had set behind the +trees of the dingle in a red ball of fire as I climbed into my +favourite seat—the fork of the pear-tree. Papa had gone to attend a +vestry meeting; the little bell of the church was tinkling out, giving +notice of the meeting to the parish.</p> + +<p>Presently the bell ceased; solitary silence ensued both to eye and +ear. The brightness of the atmosphere was giving place to the shades +of approaching evening; the trees were putting on their melancholy. I +have always thought—I always shall think—that nothing can be more +depressing than the indescribable melancholy which<span class="pagenum">[26}</span> trees in a +solitary spot seem to put on after sunset. All people do not feel +this; but to those who, like myself, see it, it brings a sensation of +loneliness, nay, of <i>awe</i>, that is strangely painful.</p> + +<p>"Ho-ho! So you are up there again, young Charley!"</p> + +<p>The garden-gate had swung back to admit Tom Heriot. In hastening down +from the tree—for he had a way of tormenting me when in it—I somehow +lost my balance and fell on to the grass. Tom shrieked out with +laughter, and made off again.</p> + +<p>The fall was nothing—though my ankle ached; but at these untoward +moments a little smart causes a great pain. It seemed to me that I was +smarting all over, inside and out, mentally and bodily; and I sat down +on the bench near the bed of shrubs, and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Sweet shrubs were they. Lavender and rosemary, old-man and +sweet-briar, marjoram and lemon-thyme, musk and verbena; and others, +no doubt. Mamma had had them<span class="pagenum">[27}</span> all planted there. She would sit with me +where I was now sitting alone, under the syringa trees, and revel in +the perfume. In spring-time those sweet syringa blossoms would +surround us; she loved their scent better than any other. Bitterly I +cried, thinking of all this, and of her.</p> + +<p>Again the gate opened, more gently this time, and Mrs. Heriot came in +looking round. "Thomas," she called out—and then she saw me. +"Charley, dear, has Tom been here? He ran away from me.—Why, my dear +little boy, what is the matter?" For she had seen the tears falling.</p> + +<p>They fell faster than ever at the question. She came up, sat down on +the bench, and drew my face lovingly to her. I thought then—I think +still—that Mrs. Heriot was one of the kindest, gentlest women that +ever breathed. I don't believe she ever in her whole life said a sharp +word to anyone.</p> + +<p>Not liking to tell of my naughtiness—which I still attributed to +others—or of the<span class="pagenum">[28}</span> ignominious fall from the pear-tree, I sobbed forth +something about mamma.</p> + +<p>"If she had not gone away and left me alone," I said, "I should never +have been unhappy, or—or cried. People were not cross with me when +she was here."</p> + +<p>"My darling, I know how lonely it is for you. Would you like me to +come here and be your mamma?" she caressingly whispered.</p> + +<p>"You could not be that," I dissented. "Mamma's up there."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Heriot glanced up at the evening sky. "Yes, Charley, she is up +there, with God; and she looks down, I feel sure, at you, and at what +is being done for you. If I came home here I should try to take care +of you as she would have done. And oh, my child, I should love you +dearly."</p> + +<p>"In her place?" I asked, feeling puzzled.</p> + +<p>"In her place, Charley. <i>For her.</i>"</p> + +<p>Tom burst in at the gate again. He began telling his stepmother of my +fall as he danced a war-dance on the grass, and<span class="pagenum">[29}</span> asked me how many of +my legs and wings were broken.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>They came to the Rectory: Mrs. Heriot—she was Mrs. Strange then—and +Tom and Baby. After all, Leah did not leave. She grew reconciled to +the new state of things in no time, and became as fond of the children +as she was of me. As fond, at least, of Tom. I don't know that she +ever cared heartily for Blanche: the little lady had a haughty face, +and sometimes a haughty way with her.</p> + +<p>We were all as happy as the day was long. Mrs. Strange indulged us +all. Tom was a dreadful pickle—it was what the servants called him; +but they all adored him. He was a handsome, generous, reckless boy, +two years older than myself in years, twice two in height and +advancement. He teased Leah's life out of her; but the more he teased, +the better she liked him. He teased Blanche, he teased me; though he +would have gone through fire and water<span class="pagenum">[30}</span> for either of us, ay, and laid +down his life any moment to save ours. He was everlastingly in +mischief indoors or out. He called papa "sir" to his face, "the +parson" or "his reverence" behind his back. There was no taming Tom +Heriot.</p> + +<p>For a short time papa took Tom's lessons with mine. But he found it +would not answer. Tom's guardians wrote to beg of the Rector to +continue to undertake him for a year or two, offering a handsome +recompense in return. But my father wrote word back that the lad +needed the discipline of school and must have it. So to school Tom was +sent. He came home in the holidays, reckless and random, generous and +loving as ever, and we had fine times together, the three of us +growing up like brothers and sister. Of course, I was not related to +them at all: and they were only half related to each other.</p> + +<p>Rather singularly, Thomas Heriot's fortune was just as much as mine: +six thousand pounds: and left in very much the same way.<span class="pagenum">[31}</span> The +interest, three hundred a year, was to maintain and educate him for +the army; and he would come into the whole when he was twenty-one. +Blanche had less: four thousand pounds only, and it was secured in the +same way as Tom's was until she should be twenty-one, or until she +married.</p> + +<p>And thus about a couple of years went on.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>No household was ever less given to superstition than ours at White +Littleham Rectory. It never as much as entered the mind of any of its +inmates, from its master downwards. And perhaps it was this complete +indifference to and disbelief in the supernatural that caused the +matter to be openly spoken of by the Rector. I have since thought so.</p> + +<p>It was Christmas-tide, and Christmas weather. Frost and snow covered +the ground. Icicles on the branches glittered in the sunshine like +diamonds.</p> + +<p>"It is the jolliest day!" exclaimed Tom, dashing into the +breakfast-room from an<span class="pagenum">[32}</span> early morning run half over the parish. +"People are slipping about like mad, and the ice is inches thick on +the ponds. Old Joe Styles went right down on his back."</p> + +<p>"I hope he was not hurt, Tom," remarked papa, coming down from his +chamber into the room in time to hear the last sentence. +"Good-morning, my boys."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was only a Christmas gambol, sir," said Tom carelessly.</p> + +<p>We sat down to breakfast. Leah came in to see to me and Tom. The +Rector might be—and was—efficient in his parish and pulpit, but a +more hopelessly incapable man in a domestic point of view the world +never saw. Tom and I should have come badly off had we relied upon him +to help us, and we might have gobbled up every earthly thing on the +table without his saying yea or nay. Leah, knowing this, stood to pour +out the coffee. Mrs. Strange had gone away to London on Wednesday (the +day after Christmas Day) to see an old aunt who was ill, and had taken +Blanche with her. This<span class="pagenum">[33}</span> was Friday, and they were expected home again +on the morrow.</p> + +<p>Presently Tom, who was observant in his way, remarked that papa was +taking nothing. His coffee stood before him untouched; some bacon lay +neglected on his plate.</p> + +<p>"Shall I cut you some thin bread and butter, sir?" asked Leah.</p> + +<p>"Presently," said he, and went on doing nothing as before.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of, papa?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Charley, I—I was thinking of my dream," he answered. "I +suppose it <i>was</i> a dream," he went on, as if to himself. "But it was a +curious one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please tell it us!" I cried. "I dreamt on Christmas night that I +had a splendid plum-cake, and was cutting it up into slices."</p> + +<p>"Well—it was towards morning," he said, still speaking in a dreamy +sort of way, his eyes looking straight out before him as if he were +recalling it, yet evidently seeing nothing. "I awoke suddenly with the +sound of a voice<span class="pagenum">[34}</span> in my ear. It was your mamma's voice, Charley; your +own mother's; and she seemed to be standing at my bedside. 'I am +coming for you,' she said to me—or seemed to say. I was wide awake in +a moment, and knew her voice perfectly. Curious, was it not, Leah?"</p> + +<p>Leah, cutting bread and butter for Tom, had halted, loaf in one hand, +knife in the other.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," she answered, gazing at the Rector. "Did you <i>see</i> +anything, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No; not exactly," he returned. "I was conscious that whoever spoke to +me, stood close to my bedside; and I was also conscious that the +figure retreated across the room towards the window. I cannot say that +I absolutely saw the movement; it was more like some unseen presence +in the room. It was very odd. Somehow I can't get it out of my +head—— Why, here's Mr. Penthorn!" he broke off to say.</p> + +<p>Mr. Penthorn had opened the gate, and was walking briskly up the path. +He was<span class="pagenum">[35}</span> our doctor; a gray-haired man, active and lively, and very +friendly with us all. He had looked in, in passing back to the +village, to tell the Rector that a parishioner, to whom he had been +called up in the night, was in danger.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and see her," said papa. "You'd be none the worse for a cup +of coffee, Penthorn. It is sharp weather."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps I shouldn't," said he, sitting down by me, while Tom +went off to the kitchen for a cup and saucer. "Sharp enough—but +seasonable. Is anything amiss with you, Leah? Indigestion again?"</p> + +<p>This caused us to look at Leah. She was whiter than the table-cloth.</p> + +<p>"No, sir; I'm all right," answered Leah, as she took the cup from +Tom's hand and began to fill it with coffee and hot milk. "Something +that the master has been telling us scared me a bit at the moment, +that's all."</p> + +<p>"And what was that?" asked the Doctor lightly.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[36}</span></p> + +<p>So the story had to be gone over again, papa repeating it rather more +elaborately. Mr. Penthorn was sceptical, and said it was a dream.</p> + +<p>"I have just called it a dream," assented my father. "But, in one +sense, it was certainly not a dream. I had not been dreaming at all, +to my knowledge; have not the least recollection of doing so. I woke +up fully in a moment, with the voice ringing in my ears."</p> + +<p>"The voice must have been pure fancy," declared Mr. Penthorn.</p> + +<p>"That it certainly was not," said the Rector. "I never heard a voice +more plainly in my life; every tone, every word was distinct and +clear. No, Penthorn; that someone spoke to me is certain; the puzzle +is—who was it?"</p> + +<p>"Someone must have got into your room, then," said the Doctor, +throwing his eyes suspiciously across the table at Tom.</p> + +<p>Leah turned sharply round to face Tom.<span class="pagenum">[37}</span> "Master Tom, if you played +this trick, say so," she cried, her voice trembling.</p> + +<p>"I! that's good!" retorted Tom, as earnestly as he could speak. "I +never got out of bed from the time I got into it. Wasn't likely to. I +never woke up at all."</p> + +<p>"It was not Tom," interposed papa. "How could Tom assume my late +wife's voice? It <i>was</i> her voice, Penthorn. I had never heard it since +she left us; and it has brought back all its familiar tones to my +memory."</p> + +<p>The Doctor helped himself to some bread and butter, and gave his head +a shake.</p> + +<p>"Besides," resumed the Rector, "no one else ever addressed me as she +did—'Eustace.' I have not been called Eustace since my mother died, +many years ago, except by her. My present wife has never called me by +it."</p> + +<p>That was true. Mrs. Strange had a pet name for him, and it was +"Hubby."</p> + +<p>"'I am coming for you, Eustace,' said the voice. It was her voice; her +way of<span class="pagenum">[38}</span> speaking. I can't account for it at all, Penthorn. I can't get +it out of my head, though it sounds altogether so ridiculous."</p> + +<p>"Well, I give it up," said Mr. Penthorn, finishing his coffee. "If you +<i>were</i> awake, Strange, someone must have been essaying a little +sleight-of-hand upon you. Good-morning, all of you; I must be off to +my patients. Tom Heriot, don't you get trying the ponds yet, or maybe +I shall have you on my hands as well as other people."</p> + +<p>We gave it up also: and nothing more was said or thought of it, as far +as I know. We were not, I repeat, a superstitious family. Papa went +about his duties as usual, and Leah went about hers. The next day, +Saturday, Mrs. Strange and Blanche returned home; and the cold grew +sharper and the frozen ponds were lovely.</p> + +<p>On Monday afternoon, the last day of the year, the Rector mounted old +Dobbin, to ride to the next parish. He had to take a funeral for the +incumbent, who was in bed with gout.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[39}</span></p> + +<p>"Have his shoes been roughed?" asked Tom, standing at the gate with me +to watch the start.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and well roughed too, Master Tom," spoke up James, who had lived +with us longer than I could remember, as gardener, groom, and general +man-of-all-work. "'Tisn't weather, sir, to send him out without being +rough-shod."</p> + +<p>"You two boys had better get to your Latin for an hour, and prepare it +for me for to-morrow; and afterwards you may go to the ponds," said my +father, as he rode away. "Good-bye, lads. Take care of yourself, +Charley."</p> + +<p>"Bother Latin!" said Tom. "I'm going off now. Will you come, +youngster?"</p> + +<p>"Not till I've done my Latin."</p> + +<p>"You senseless young donkey! Stay, though; I must tell the mamsie +something."</p> + +<p>He made for the dining-room, where Mrs. Strange sat with Blanche. +"Look here, mamsie," said he; "let us have a bit of a party +to-night."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[40}</span></p> + +<p>"A party, Tom!" she returned.</p> + +<p>"Just the young Penthorns and the Clints."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do, mamma!" I cried, for I was uncommonly fond of parties. And +"Do, mamma!" struck in little Blanche.</p> + +<p>My new mother rarely denied us anything; but she hesitated now.</p> + +<p>"I think not to-night, dears. You know we are going to have the +school-treat tomorrow evening, and the servants are busy with the +cakes and things. They shall come on Wednesday instead, Tom."</p> + +<p>Tom laughed. "They <i>must</i> come to-night, mamsie. They <i>are</i> coming. I +have asked them."</p> + +<p>"What—the young Penthorns?"</p> + +<p>"<i>And</i> the young Clints," said Tom, clasping his stepmother, and +kissing her. "They'll be here on the stroke of five. Mind you treat us +to plenty of tarts and cakes, there's a good mamsie!"</p> + +<p>Tom went off with his skates. I got to my books. After that, some +friends came<span class="pagenum">[41}</span> to call, and the afternoon seemed to pass in no time.</p> + +<p>"It is hardly worth while your going to the ponds now, Master +Charles," said Leah, meeting me in the passage, when I was at last at +liberty.</p> + +<p>In looking back I think that I must have had a very obedient nature, +for I was ever willing to listen to orders or suggestions, however +unpalatable they might be. Passing through the back-door, the nearest +way to the square pond, to which Tom had gone, I looked out. Twilight +was already setting in. The evening star twinkled in a clear, frosty +sky. The moon shone like a silver shield.</p> + +<p>"Before you could get to the square pond, Master Charley, it would be +dark," said Leah, as she stood beside me.</p> + +<p>"So it would," I assented. "I think I'll not go, Leah."</p> + +<p>"And I'm sure you don't need to tire yourself for to-night," went on +Leah. "There'll be romping enough and to spare if those boys and girls +come."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[42}</span></p> + +<p>I went back to the parlour. Leah walked to the side gate, wondering +(as she said afterwards) what had come to the milkman, for he was +generally much earlier. As she stood looking down the lane, she saw +Tom stealing up.</p> + +<p>"He has been in some mischief," decided Leah. "It's not like <i>him</i> to +creep up in that timorous fashion. Good patience! Why, the lad must +have had a fright; his face is white as death."</p> + +<p>"Leah!" said the boy, shrinking as he glanced over his shoulder. +"Leah!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what on earth is it?" asked Leah, feeling a little dread +herself. "What have you been up to at that pond? You've not been in it +yourself, I suppose!"</p> + +<p>"Papa—the parson—is lying in the road by the triangle, all pale and +still. He does not move."</p> + +<p>Whenever Master Tom Heriot saw a chance of scaring the kitchen with a +fable, he plunged into one. Leah peered at him doubtfully in the +fading light.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[43}</span></p> + +<p>"I think he is dead. I'm sure he is," continued Tom, bursting into +tears.</p> + +<p>This convinced Leah. She uttered a faint cry.</p> + +<p>"We took that way back from the square pond; I, and Joe and Bertie +Penthorn. They were going home to get ready to come here. Then we saw +something lying near the triangle, close to that heap of flint-stones. +It was <i>him</i>, Leah. Oh! what is to be done? I can't tell mamma, or +poor Charley."</p> + +<p>James ran up, all scared, as Tom finished speaking. He had found +Dobbin at the stable-door, without sign or token of his master.</p> + +<p>Even yet I cannot bear to think of that dreadful night. We <i>had</i> to be +told, you see; and Leah lost no time over it. While Tom came home with +the news, Joe Penthorn had run for his father, and Bertie called to +some labourers who were passing on the other side of the triangle.</p> + +<p>He was brought home on a litter, the men carrying it, Mr. Penthorn +walking by<span class="pagenum">[44}</span> its side. He was not dead, but quite unconscious. They put +a mattress on the study-table, and laid him on it.</p> + +<p>He had been riding home from the funeral. Whether Dobbin, usually so +sure-footed and steady, had plunged his foot into a rut, just glazed +over by the ice, and so had stumbled; or whether something had +startled him and caused him to swerve, we never knew. The Rector had +been thrown violently, his head striking the stones.</p> + +<p>Mr. Penthorn did not leave the study. Two other surgeons, summoned in +haste from the neighbouring town, joined him. They could do nothing +for papa—<i>nothing</i>. He never recovered consciousness, and died during +the night—about a quarter before three o'clock.</p> + +<p>"I knew he would go just at this time, sir," whispered Leah to Mr. +Penthorn as he was leaving the house and she opened the front-door for +him. "I felt sure of it when the doctors said he would not see morning +light. It was just at the same hour that he<span class="pagenum">[45}</span> had his call, sir, three +nights ago. As sure as that he is now lying there dead, as sure as +that those stars are shining in the heavens above us, <i>that was his +warning</i>."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Leah!" reproved Mr. Penthorn sharply.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Chances and changes. The world is full of them. A short time and White +Littleham Rectory knew us no more. The Reverend Eustace Strange was +sleeping his last sleep in the churchyard by his wife's side, and the +Reverend John Ravensworth was the new Rector.</p> + +<p>Tom Heriot went back to school. I was placed at one chosen for me by +my great-uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar. Leah Williams left us to +take service in another family, who were about to settle somewhere on +the Continent. She could not speak for emotion when she said good-bye +to me.</p> + +<p>"It must be for years, Master Charles, and it may be for ever," she +said, taking, I fancy, the words from one of the many<span class="pagenum">[46}</span> favourite +ditties, martial or love-lorn, she treated us to in the nursery. "No, +we may never meet again in this life, Master Charles. All the same, I +hope we shall."</p> + +<p>And meet we did, though not for years and years. And it would no doubt +have called forth indignation from Leah had I been able to foretell +how, when that meeting came in after-life, she would purposely +withhold her identity from me and pass herself off as a stranger.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Strange went to London, Blanche with her, to take up for the +present her abode with her old aunt, who had invited her to do so. She +was little, if any, better off in this second widowhood than she had +been as the widow of Colonel Heriot. What papa had to leave he left to +her; but it was not much. I had my own mother's money. And so we were +all separated again; all divided: one here, another there, a third +elsewhere. It is the way of the world. Change and chance! chance and +change!</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[47}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="400" height="109" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<p class="h3">MR. SERJEANT STILLINGFAR.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gloucester Place</span>, Portman Square. In one of its handsome houses—as +they are considered to be by persons of moderate desires—dwelt its +owner, Major Carlen. Major Carlen was a man of the world; a man of +fashion. When the house had fallen to him some years before by the +will of a relative, with a substantial sum of money to keep it up, he +professed to despise the house to his brother-officers and other +acquaintances of the great world. He would have preferred a house in +Belgrave Square, or in Grosvenor Place, or in Park Lane. Major Carlen +was accustomed to speak largely; it was his way.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[48}</span></p> + +<p>Since then, he had retired from the army, and was master of himself, +his time and his amusements. Major Carlen was fond of clubs, fond of +card-playing, fond of dinners; fond, indeed, of whatever constitutes +fast life. His house in Gloucester Place was handsomely furnished, +replete with comfort, and possessed every reasonable requisite for +social happiness—even to a wife. And Major Carlen's wife was Jessy, +once Mrs. Strange, once Mrs. Heriot.</p> + +<p>It is quite a problem why some women cannot marry at all, try to do so +as they may, whilst others become wives three and four times over, and +without much seeking of their own. Mrs. Heriot (to give her her first +name) was one of these. In very little more than a year after her +first husband died, she married her second; in not any more than a +year after her second husband's death, she married her third. Major +Carlen must have been captivated by her pretty face and purring +manner; whilst she fell prone at the feet of the man of fashion, and +perhaps a<span class="pagenum">[49}</span> very little at the prospect of being mistress of the house +in Gloucester Place. Anyway, the why and the wherefore lay between +themselves. Mrs. Strange became Mrs. Carlen.</p> + +<p>Reading over thus far, it has struck me that you may reasonably think +the story is to consist chiefly of marrying and dying; for there has +been an undue proportion of both events. Not so: as you will find as +you go on. Our ancestors do marry and die, you know: and these first +three chapters are only a prologue to the story which has to come.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Christmas has come round again. Not the Christmas following that which +ended so disastrously for us at White Littleham Rectory, but one five +years later. For the stream of time flows on its course, and boys and +girls grow insensibly towards men and women.</p> + +<p>It had been a green Christmas this year. We were now some days past +it. The air<span class="pagenum">[50}</span> was mild, the skies were blue and genial. Newspapers told +of violets and other flowers growing in nooks, sheltered and +unsheltered. Mrs. Carlen, seated by a well-spread table, half dinner, +half tea, in the dining-room at Gloucester Place, declared that the +fire made the room too warm. I was reading. Blanche, a very fair and +pretty girl, now ten years old, sat on a stool on the hearthrug, her +light curls tied back with blue ribbons, her hands lying idly on the +lap of her short silk frock. We were awaiting an arrival.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Charles!" cried mamma—as I called her still. "I do think a +cab is stopping."</p> + +<p>I put down my book, and Blanche threw back her head and her blue +ribbons in expectation. But the cab went on.</p> + +<p>"It is just like Tom!" smiled Mrs. Carlen. "Nothing ever put him out +as it does other people. He gives us one hour and means another. He +<i>said</i> seven o'clock, so we may expect him at ten. I do wish he could +have obtained leave for Christmas Day!"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[51}</span></p> + +<p>Major Carlen did not like children, boys especially: yet Tom Heriot +and I had been allowed to spend our holidays at his house, summer and +winter. Mrs. Carlen stood partly in the light of a mother to us both; +and I expect our guardians paid substantially for the privilege. Tom +was now nearly eighteen, and had had a commission given him in a crack +regiment; partly, it was said, through the interest of Major Carlen. I +was between fifteen and sixteen.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you children must be famishing," cried Mrs. Carlen. "It +wants five minutes to eight. If Tom is not here as the clock strikes, +we will begin tea."</p> + +<p>The silvery bell had told its eight strokes and was dying away, when a +cab dashing past the door suddenly pulled up. No mistake this time. We +heard Tom's voice abusing the driver—or, as he called it, "pitching +into him"—for not looking at the numbers.</p> + +<p>What a fine, handsome young fellow he had grown! And how joyously he +met us<span class="pagenum">[52}</span> all; folding mother, brother and sister in one eager embrace. +Tom Heriot was careless and thoughtless as it was possible for anyone +to be, but he had a warm and affectionate heart. When trouble, and +something worse, fell upon him later, and he became a town's talk, +people called him bad-hearted amongst other reproaches; but they were +mistaken.</p> + +<p>"Why, Charley, how you have shot up!" he cried gaily. "You'll soon +overtake me."</p> + +<p>I shook my head. "While I am growing, Tom, you will be growing also."</p> + +<p>"What was it you said in your last letter?" he went on, as we began +tea. "That you were going to leave school?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I fancy so, Tom. Uncle Stillingfar gave notice at Michaelmas."</p> + +<p>"Thinks you know enough, eh, lad?"</p> + +<p>I could not say much about that. That I was unusually well educated +for my years there could be no doubt about, especially in the classics +and French. My father had laid a good foundation to begin with, and<span class="pagenum">[53}</span> +the school chosen for me was a first-rate one. The French resident +master had taken a liking to me, and had me much with him. Once during +the midsummer holidays he had taken me to stay with his people in +France: to Abbeville, with its interesting old church and +market-place, its quaint costumes and uncomfortable inns. Altogether, +I spoke and wrote French almost as well as he did.</p> + +<p>"What are they going to make of you, Charley? Is it as old Stillingfar +pleases?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. I dare say they'll put me to the law."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunate martyr! I'd rather command a pirate-boat on the high seas +than stew my brains over dry law-books and musty parchments!"</p> + +<p>"Tastes differ," struck in Miss Blanche. "And you are not going to sea +at all, Tom."</p> + +<p>"Tastes do differ," smiled Mrs. Carlen. "I should think it much nicer +to harangue judges and law-courts in a silk gown and<span class="pagenum">[54}</span> wig, Tom, than +to put on a red coat and go out to be shot at."</p> + +<p>"Hark at the mamsie!" cried Tom, laughing. "Charley, give me some more +tongue. Where's the Major to-night?"</p> + +<p>The Major was dining out. Tom and I were always best pleased when he +did dine out. A pompous, boasting sort of man, I did not like him at +all. As Tom put it, we would at any time rather have his room than his +company.</p> + +<p>The days I am writing of are not these days. Boys left school earlier +then than they do now. I suppose education was not so comprehensive as +it is now made: but it served us. It was quite a usual thing to place +a lad out in the world at fourteen or fifteen, whether to a profession +or a trade. Therefore little surprise was caused at home by notice +having been given of my removal from school.</p> + +<p>At breakfast, next morning, Tom began laying out plans for the day. +"I'll take you to this thing, Charley, and I'll take you to<span class="pagenum">[55}</span> that." +Major Carlen sat in his usual place at the foot of the table, facing +his wife. An imposing-looking man, tall, thin and angular, who must +formerly have been handsome. He had a large nose with a curious twist +in it; white teeth, which he showed very much; light gray eyes that +stared at you, and hair and whiskers of so brilliant a black that a +suspicious person might have said they were dyed.</p> + +<p>"I thought of taking you boys out myself this afternoon," spoke the +Major. "To see that horsemanship which is exhibiting. I hear it's very +good. Would you like to go?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, and me too!" struck in Blanche. "Take me, papa."</p> + +<p>"No," answered the Major, after reflection. "I don't consider it a fit +place for little girls. Would you boys like to go?" he asked.</p> + +<p>We said we should like it; said it in a sort of surprise, for it was +almost the first time he had ever offered to take us anywhere.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[56}</span></p> + +<p>"Charles cannot go," hastily interrupted Mrs. Carlen, who had at +length opened a letter which had been lying beside her plate. "This is +from Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, Charley. He asks me to send you to his +chambers this afternoon. You are to be there at three o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Just like old Stillingfar!" cried Tom resentfully. Considering that +he did not know much of Serjeant Stillingfar and had very little +experience of his ways, the reproach was gratuitous.</p> + +<p>Major Carlen laughed at it. "We must put off the horsemanship to +another day," said he. "It will come to the same thing. I will take +you out somewhere instead, Blanchie."</p> + +<p>Taking an omnibus in Oxford Street, when lunch was over, I went down +to Holborn, and thence to Lincoln's Inn. The reader may hardly believe +that I had never been to my uncle's chambers before, though I had +sometimes been to his house. He seemed to have kept me at a distance. +His rooms<span class="pagenum">[57}</span> were on the first floor. On the outer door I read "Mr. +Serjeant Stillingfar."</p> + +<p>"Come in," cried out a voice, in answer to my knock. And I entered a +narrow little room.</p> + +<p>A pert-looking youth with a quantity of long, light curly hair and an +eye-glass, and not much older than myself, sat on a stool at a desk, +beside an unoccupied chair. He eyed me from head to foot. I wore an +Eton jacket and turn-down collar; he wore a "tail" coat, a stand-up +collar, and a stock.</p> + +<p>"What do <i>you</i> want?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I want Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar."</p> + +<p>"Not in; not to be seen. You can come another day."</p> + +<p>"But I am here by appointment."</p> + +<p>The young gentleman caught up his eyeglass, fixed it, and turned it on +me. "I don't think you are expected," said he coolly.</p> + +<p>Now, though he had been gifted with a stock of native impudence, and a +very good stock it was at his time of life, I had been<span class="pagenum">[58}</span> gifted with +native modesty. I waited in silence, not knowing what to do. Two or +three chairs stood about. He no doubt would have tried them all in +succession, had it suited him to do so. I did not like to take one of +them.</p> + +<p>"Will my uncle be long, do you know?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Who <i>is</i> your uncle?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar."</p> + +<p>He put up his glass again, which had dropped, and stared at me harder +than before. At this juncture an inner door was opened, and a +middle-aged man in a black coat and white neckcloth came through it.</p> + +<p>"Are you Mr. Strange?" he inquired, quietly and courteously.</p> + +<p>"Yes. My uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, wrote to tell me to be here +at three o'clock."</p> + +<p>"I know. Will you step in here? The Serjeant is in Court, but will not +be long. As to you, young Mr. Lake, if you persist<span class="pagenum">[59}</span> in exercising your +impudent tongue upon all comers, I shall request the Serjeant to put a +stop to your sitting here at all. How many times have you been told +not to take upon yourself to answer callers, but to refer them to me +when Michael is out?"</p> + +<p>"About a hundred and fifty, I suppose, old Jones. Haven't counted +them, though," retorted Mr. Lake.</p> + +<p>"Impertinent young rascal!" ejaculated Mr. Jones, as he took me into +the next room, and turned to a little desk that stood in a corner. He +was the Serjeant's confidential clerk, and had been with him for +years. Arthur Lake, beginning to read for the Bar, was allowed by the +Serjeant and his clerk to sit in their chambers of a day, to pick up a +little experience.</p> + +<p>"Sit down by the fire, Mr. Strange," said the clerk. "It is a warm +day, though, for the season. I expected the Serjeant in before this. +He will not be long now."</p> + +<p>Before I had well taken in the bearings<span class="pagenum">[60}</span> of the room, which was the +Serjeant's own, and larger and better than the other, he came in, +wearing his silk gown and gray wig. He was a little man, growing +elderly now, with a round, smooth, fair face, out of which twinkled +kindly blue eyes. Mr. Jones got up from his desk at once to divest him +of wig and gown, producing at the same time a miniature flaxen wig, +which the Serjeant put upon his head.</p> + +<p>"So you have come, Charles!" he said, shaking hands with me as he sat +down in a large elbow-chair. Mr. Jones went out with his arm full of +papers and shut the door upon us.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," I answered.</p> + +<p>"You will be sixteen next May, I believe," he added. He had the +mildest voice and manner imaginable; not at all what might be expected +in a serjeant-at-law, who was supposed to take the Court by storm on +occasion. "And I understand from your late master that in all your +studies you are remarkably well advanced."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[61}</span></p> + +<p>"Pretty well, I think, sir," I answered modestly.</p> + +<p>"Ay. I am glad to hear you speak of it in a diffident, proper sort of +way. Always be modest, lad; true merit ever is so. It tells, too, in +the long-run. Well, Charles, I think it time that you were placed out +in life."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Is there any calling that you especially fancy? Any one profession +you would prefer to embrace above another?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; I don't know that there is. I have always had an idea that +it would be the law. I think I should like that."</p> + +<p>"Just so," he answered, the faint pink on his smooth cheeks growing +deeper with gratification. "It is what I have always intended you to +enter—provided you had no insuperable objection to it. But I shall +not make a barrister of you, Charles."</p> + +<p>"No!" I exclaimed. "What then?"</p> + +<p>"An attorney-at-law."</p> + +<p>I was too much taken by surprise to<span class="pagenum">[62}</span> answer at once. "Is that—a +gentleman's calling, Uncle Charles?" I at length took courage to ask.</p> + +<p>"Ay, that it is, lad," he impressively rejoined. "It's true you've no +chance of the Woolsack or of a judgeship, or even of becoming a +pleader, as I am. If you had a ready-made fortune, Charles, you might +eat your dinners, get called, and risk it. But you have not; and I +will not be the means of condemning the best years of your life to +anxious poverty."</p> + +<p>I only looked at him, without speaking. I fancy he must have seen +disappointment in my face.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Charles," he resumed, bending forward impressively: "I +will tell you a little of my past experience. My people thought they +were doing a great thing for me when they put me to the Bar. I thought +the same. I was called in due course, and donned my stuff gown and wig +in glory—the glory cast by the glamour of hope. How long my mind +maintained that<span class="pagenum">[63}</span> glamour; how long it was before it began to give +place to doubt; how many years it took to merge doubt into despair, I +cannot tell you. I think something like fifteen or twenty."</p> + +<p>"Fifteen or twenty years, Uncle Stillingfar!"</p> + +<p>"Not less. I was steady, persevering, sufficiently clever. Yet +practice did not come to me. It is all a lottery. I had no fortune, +lad; no one to help me. I was not clever at writing for the newspapers +and magazines, as many of my fellows were. And for more years than I +care to recall I had a hard struggle for existence. I was engaged to +be married. She was a sweet, patient girl, and we waited until we were +both bordering upon middle age. Ay, Charles, I was forty years old +before practice began to flow in upon me. The long lane had taken a +turning at last. It flew in then with a vengeance—more work than I +could possibly undertake."</p> + +<p>"And did you marry the young lady, Uncle Charles?" I asked in the +pause he<span class="pagenum">[64}</span> came to. I had never heard of his having a wife.</p> + +<p>"No, child; she was dead. I think she died of waiting."</p> + +<p>I drew a long breath, deeply interested.</p> + +<p>"There are scores of young fellows starving upon hope now, as I +starved then, Charles. The market is terribly overstocked. For ten +barristers striving to rush into note in my days, you may count twenty +or thirty in these. I will not have you swell the lists. My brother's +grandson shall never, with my consent, waste his best years in +fighting with poverty, waiting for luck that may never come to him."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is a lottery, as you say, sir."</p> + +<p>"A lottery where blanks far outweigh the prizes," he assented. "A +lottery into which you shall not enter. No, Charles; you shall be +spared that. As a lawyer, I can make your progress tolerably sure. You +may be a rich man in time if you will, and an honourable one. I have +sounded my old friend,<span class="pagenum">[65}</span> Henry Brightman, and I think he is willing to +take you."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I should not make a good pleader, sir," I acknowledged, +falling in with his views. "I can't speak a bit. We had a +debating-club at school, and in the middle of a speech I always lost +myself."</p> + +<p>He nodded, and rose. "You shall not try it, my boy. And that's all for +to-day, Charles. All I wanted was to sound your views before making +arrangements with Brightman."</p> + +<p>"Has he a good practice, sir?"</p> + +<p>"He has a very large and honourable practice, Charles. He is a good +man and a <i>gentleman</i>," concluded the Serjeant emphatically. "All +being well, you may become his partner sometime."</p> + +<p>"Am I not to go to Oxford, sir?" I asked wistfully.</p> + +<p>"If you particularly wish to do so and circumstances permit it, you +may perhaps keep a few terms when you are out of your articles," he +replied, with hesitation.<span class="pagenum">[66}</span> "We shall see, Charles, when that time +comes."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>"What a shame!" exclaimed Mrs. Carlen, when I reached home. "Make you +a lawyer! That he never shall, Charles. I shall not allow it. I will +go down and remonstrate with him."</p> + +<p>Major Carlen said it was a shame; said it contemptuously. Tom said it +was a double-shame, and threw a host of hard words upon Mr. Serjeant +Stillingfar. Blanche began to cry. She had been reading that day about +a press-gang, and quite believed my fate would be worse than that of +being pressed.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, next morning, we hastened to Lincoln's Inn: I and +Mrs. Carlen, for she kept her word. I should be a barrister or +nothing, she protested. All very fine to say so! She had no power over +me whatever. That lay with Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar and the other +trustee, and he never interfered. If they chose to article me to a +chimneysweep<span class="pagenum">[67}</span> instead of a lawyer, no one could say them nay.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones and young Lake sat side by side at the desk in the first +room when we arrived. Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar was in his own room. He +received us very kindly, shaking hands with Mrs. Carlen, whom he had +seen occasionally. Mrs. Carlen, sitting opposite to him, entered upon +her protest, and was meekly listened to by the Serjeant.</p> + +<p>"Better be a successful attorney, madam, than a briefless barrister," +he observed, when she finished.</p> + +<p>"All barristers are not briefless," said Mrs. Carlen.</p> + +<p>"A great many of them are," he answered. "Some of them never make +their mark at all; they live and die struggling men." And, leaning +forward in his chair—as he had leaned towards me yesterday—he +repeated a good deal that he had then said of his own history; his +long-continued poverty, and his despairing struggles. Mrs. Carlen's +heart melted.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[68}</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. It is very sad, dear Mr. Serjeant, and I am sure your +experience is only that of many others," she sighed. "But, if I +understand the matter rightly, the chief trouble of these young +barristers is their poverty. Had they means to live, they could wait +patiently and comfortably until success came to them."</p> + +<p>"Of course," he assented. "It is the want of private means that makes +the uphill path so hard."</p> + +<p>"Charles has his three hundred a year."</p> + +<p>The faint pink in his cheeks, just the hue of a sea-shell, turned to +crimson. I was sitting beyond the table, and saw it. He glanced across +at me.</p> + +<p>"It will take more money to make Charles a lawyer and to ensure him a +footing afterwards in a good house than it would to get him called to +the Bar," he said with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes—perhaps so. But that is not quite the argument, Mr. Serjeant," +said my stepmother. "Any young man who has three hundred a year may +manage to live upon it."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[69}</span></p> + +<p>"It is to be hoped so. I know I should have thought three hundred a +year a perfect gold-mine."</p> + +<p>"Then you see Charles need not starve while waiting for briefs to come +in to him. Do you <i>not</i> see that, Mr. Serjeant?"</p> + +<p>"I see it very clearly," he mildly said. "Had Charles his three +hundred a year to fall back upon, he might have gone to the Bar had he +liked, and risked the future."</p> + +<p>"But he has it," Mrs. Carlen rejoined, surprise in her tone.</p> + +<p>"No, madam, he has it not. Nor two hundred a year, nor one hundred."</p> + +<p>They silently looked at one another for a full minute. Mrs. Carlen +evidently could not understand his meaning. I am sure I did not.</p> + +<p>"Charles's money, I am sorry to say, is lost," he continued.</p> + +<p>"Lost! Since when?"</p> + +<p>"Since the bank-panic that we had nearly two years ago."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carlen collapsed. "Oh, dear!" she<span class="pagenum">[70}</span> breathed. "Did you—pray +forgive the question, Mr. Serjeant—did you lose it? Or—or—the other +trustee?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "No, no. We neither lost it, nor are we responsible +for the loss. Charles's grandfather, my brother, invested the money, +six thousand pounds, in bank debentures to bring in five per cent. He +settled the money upon his daughter, Lucy, and upon her children after +her, making myself and our old friend, George Wickham, trustees. In +the panic of two years ago this bank <i>went</i>; its shares and its +debentures became all but worthless."</p> + +<p>"Is the money all gone? quite gone?" gasped Mrs. Carlen. "Will it +never be recovered?"</p> + +<p>"The debentures are Charles's still, but they are for the present +almost worthless," he replied. "The bank went on again, and if it can +recover itself and regain prosperity, Charles in the end may not +greatly suffer. He may regain his money, or part of it. But it will +not be yet awhile. The unused<span class="pagenum">[71}</span> portion of the income had been sunk, +year by year, in further debentures, in accordance with the directions +of the will. All went."</p> + +<p>"But—someone must have paid for Charles all this time—two whole +years!" she reiterated, in vexed surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes! it has been managed," he gently said.</p> + +<p>"I think you must have paid for him yourself," spoke Mrs. Carlen with +impulse. "I think it is you who are intending to pay the premium to +Mr. Brightman, and to provide for his future expenses? You are a good +man, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar!"</p> + +<p>His face broke into a smile: the rare sweet smile which so seldom +crossed it. "I am only lending it to him. Charley will repay me when +he is a rich man. But you see now, Mrs. Carlen, why a certainty will +be better for him than an uncertainty."</p> + +<p>We saw it all too clearly, and there was no more remonstrance to be +made. Mrs. Carlen rose to leave, just as Mr. Jones came bustling into +the room.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[72}</span></p> + +<p>"Time is up, sir," he said to his master. "The Court will be waiting."</p> + +<p>"Ah, so: is it? Good-morning, madam," he added, politely dismissing +her. "I shall send for you here again in a day or two, Charles."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for what you are doing for me, Uncle Charles," I whispered. +"It is very kind of you."</p> + +<p>He laid his hand upon my shoulder affectionately, keeping it there for +a few seconds. And as we went out, the last glimpse I had was of his +kind, gentle face, and Mr. Jones standing ready to assist him on with +his wig and gown.</p> + +<p>And we went back to Gloucester Place aware that my destiny in life was +settled.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i006.jpg" width="150" height="158" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[73}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i007a.jpg" width="400" height="112" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">IN ESSEX STREET.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-h.jpg" width="84" height="83" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">H</span>ENRY BRIGHTMAN'S</b> offices were in Essex Street, Strand, near the +Temple. He rented the whole house: a capital house, towards the bottom +of the street on the left-hand side as you go down. His father, who +had been head and chief of the firm, had lived in it. But old Mr. +Brightman was dead, and his son, now sole master, lived over the water +on the Surrey side, in a style his father would never have dreamt of. +It was a firm of repute and consideration; and few legal firms, if +any, in London were better regarded.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[74}</span></p> + +<p>It was to this gentleman my uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, articled +me: and a gentleman Henry Brightman was in every sense of the term. He +was a slender man of middle height, with a bright, pleasant face, +quick, dark eyes, and brown hair. Very much to my surprise, I found, +when arrangements were being made for me, that I was to live in the +house. Serjeant Stillingfar had made it a condition that I should do +so. He and the late Mr. Brightman had been firm friends, and his +friendship was continued to Henry. An old lady, one Miss Methold, a +cousin of the Brightmans, resided in the house, and I was to take up +my abode with her. She was a kind old thing, though a little stern and +reserved, and she made me very comfortable.</p> + +<p>There were several clerks; and one articled pupil, who was leaving the +house as I entered it. The head of all was a gentleman named Lennard, +who seemed to take all management upon himself, under Mr. Brightman. +George Lennard was a tall spare man, with a thin,<span class="pagenum">[75}</span> fair, aristocratic +face and well-formed features. He looked about thirty-five years old, +and an impression prevailed in the office that he was well-born, +well-connected, and had come down in the world through loss of +fortune. A man of few words, attentive, and always at his post, +Lennard was an excellent superintendent, ruling with a strict yet +kindly hand.</p> + +<p>One day, some weeks after I had entered, as I was at dinner with Miss +Methold in her sitting-room, and the weather was warm enough for all +doors to be open, we heard horses and carriage-wheels dash up to the +house. The room was at the head of the stairs, leading from the +offices to the kitchen: a large, pleasant room with a window looking +towards the Temple chambers and the winding river.</p> + +<p>"What a commotion!" exclaimed Miss Methold.</p> + +<p>I went to the door, and saw an open barouche, with a lady and a little +girl inside it, attended by a coachman and footman in livery.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[76}</span></p> + +<p>"It is quite a grand carriage, Miss Methold."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said she, looking over my shoulder: "it is Mrs. Brightman."</p> + +<p>"Very proud and high-and-mighty, is she not?" I rejoined, for the +clerks had talked about her.</p> + +<p>"She was born proud. Her mother was a nobleman's daughter, and she'll +be proud to the end," said the old lady. "Henry keeps up great show +and state for her. Of course, that is his affair, not mine."</p> + +<p>"I hear he has a charming place at Clapham, Miss Methold?"</p> + +<p>"So do I," she answered rather bitterly. "I have never seen it."</p> + +<p>"Never seen it?" I echoed in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Never," she answered. "I have not even been invited there by her. +Never once, Charles. Mrs. Brightman despises her husband's profession +in her heart; she despises me as belonging to it, I suppose, and as a +poor relation. She has never condescended to get out of her carriage +to enter<span class="pagenum">[77}</span> the office here, and has never asked to see me, here or +there. Henry has invited me down there once or twice when she was away +from home, but I have said, No, thank you."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lennard came in. The clerks, one excepted, had gone out to dinner. +"Do you know whether it will be long before Mr. Brightman comes in, or +where he has gone to?" he said to Miss Methold.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I do not," she answered rather shortly. "I only knew he was +out by his not appearing now at luncheon."</p> + +<p>"Charles, go to the carriage and tell Mrs. Brightman that we don't +know how long it may be before Mr. Brightman comes in," said he.</p> + +<p>I rather wondered why he could not go himself as I took out the +message to Mrs. Brightman.</p> + +<p>She had a fair proud face, and her air was cold and haughty as she +listened to me.</p> + +<p>"Let this be given to him as soon as he comes in," she said, handing +me a sealed<span class="pagenum">[78}</span> note. "Regent Street; Carbonell's," she added to the +footman.</p> + +<p>As the carriage turned and bowled away, I caught the child's pretty +face, a smile on her rosy lips and in her laughing brown eyes.</p> + +<p>I may as well say here that young Lake had struck up an +acquaintanceship with me. The reader may remember that I saw him at +the chambers of Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar. I grew to like him greatly. +His faults were all on the surface; his heart was in the right place. +Boy though he was, he was thrown upon himself in the world. I don't +mean as to money, but as to a home; and he steered his course +unscathed through its shoals. The few friends he had lived in the +country. He had neither father nor mother. His lodgings were in +Norfolk Street, very near to us. Miss Methold would sometimes have him +in to spend Sunday with me; and now and then, but very rarely, he and +I were invited for that day to dine with Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[79}</span></p> + +<p>The Serjeant lived in Russell Square, in one of its handsomest houses. +But he kept, so to say, no establishment; just two or three servants +and a modest little brougham. He must have been making a great deal of +money at that time, and I suppose he put it by.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you don't know, Charley," Lake said to me one evening when I was +in Norfolk Street, and we began talking of him. "It is said his money +went in that same precious bank which devoured yours; and it is +thought that he lives in this quiet manner, eschewing pomps and +vanities, to be able to help friends who were quite ruined by it. Old +Jones knows a little, and I've heard him drop a word or two."</p> + +<p>"I am sure my uncle is singularly good and kind. Those simple-minded +men generally are."</p> + +<p>Lake nodded. "Few men, <i>I</i> should say, come up to Serjeant +Stillingfar."</p> + +<p>A trouble had come to me in the early spring. I thought it a great +one, and grieved<span class="pagenum">[80}</span> over it. Major Carlen gave up his house in +Gloucester Place, letting it furnished for a long term, and went +abroad with his wife. <i>He</i> might have gone to the end of the world for +ever and a day, but she was like my second mother, and indeed <i>was</i> +so, and I felt lost without her. They took up their abode at Brussels. +It would be good for Blanche's education, Mrs. Carlen wrote to me. +Other people said that the Major had considerably out-run the +constable, and went there to economise. Tom Heriot was down at +Portsmouth with his regiment.</p> + +<p>I think that is all I need say of this part of my life. I liked my +profession very much indeed, and got on well in it and with Mr. +Brightman and the clerks, and with good old Miss Methold. And so the +years passed on.</p> + +<p>The first change came when I was close upon twenty years of age: came +in the death of Miss Methold. After that, I left Essex Street as a +residence, for there was no longer anyone to rule it, and went into +Lake's<span class="pagenum">[81}</span> lodgings in Norfolk Street, sharing his sitting-room and +securing a bedroom. And still a little more time rolled on.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It was Easter-tide. On Easter Eve, it happened that I had remained in +the office after the other clerks had left, to finish some work in +hand. In these days Saturday afternoon has become a general holiday; +in those days we had to work all the harder. On Saturdays a holiday +was unknown.</p> + +<p>Writing steadily, I finished my task, and was locking up my desk, +which stood near the far window in the front room on the ground floor, +when Mr. Brightman, who had also remained late, came downstairs from +his private room, and looked in.</p> + +<p>"Not gone yet, Charley!"</p> + +<p>"I am going now, sir. I have only just finished my work."</p> + +<p>"Some of the clerks are coming on Monday, I believe," continued Mr. +Brightman. "Are you one of them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Mr. Lennard told me I might<span class="pagenum">[82}</span> take holiday, but I did not +care about it. As I have no friends to spend it with, it would not be +much of a holiday to me. Arthur Lake is out of town."</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar on circuit," added Mr. Brightman.</p> + +<p>He paused and looked at me, as he stood near the door. I was gathering +the pens together.</p> + +<p>"Have you no friends to dine with, to-morrow—Easter Day?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. At least, I have not been asked anywhere. I think I shall go +for a blow up the river."</p> + +<p>"A blow up the river!" he repeated doubtfully. "Don't you go to +church?"</p> + +<p>"Always. I go to the Temple. I meant in the afternoon, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you have no friends to dine with, you may come and dine with +me," said Mr. Brightman, after a moment's consideration. "Come down +when service is over. You will find an omnibus at Charing Cross."</p> + +<p>The invitation pleased me. Some of the<span class="pagenum">[83}</span> clerks would have given their +ears for it. Of course I mean the gentlemen clerks; not one of whom +had ever been so favoured. I had sometimes wondered that he never +asked me, considering his intimacy with my uncle. But, I suppose, to +have invited me to his house and left out Miss Methold would have been +rather too pointed a slight upon her.</p> + +<p>It was a fine day. The Temple service was beautiful, as usual; the +anthem, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." Afterwards I went forth to +keep my engagement, and in due time reached the entrance-gates of Mr. +Brightman's residence.</p> + +<p>It was a large, handsome villa, enclosed in fine pleasure-grounds, +near Clapham. They lived in a good deal of style, kept seven or eight +servants and two carriages: a large barouche, and a brougham in which +he sometimes came to town. A well-appointed house, full of comfort and +luxury. Mr. Brightman was on the lawn when I reached it.</p> + +<p>"Well, Charles! I began to think you were late."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[84}</span></p> + +<p>"I walked down, sir. The first two omnibuses were full, and I would +not wait for a third."</p> + +<p>"Rather a long walk," he remarked with a smile. "But it is what I +should have done at your age. Dinner will be ready soon. We dine at +three o'clock on Sundays. It allows ourselves and the servants to +attend evening as well as morning service."</p> + +<p>He had walked towards the house as he spoke, and we went in. The +drawing-room and dining-room opened on either side a large hall. In +the former room sat Mrs. Brightman. I had seen her occasionally at the +office door in her carriage, but had never spoken to her except that +first time. She was considerably younger than Mr. Brightman, who must +have been then getting towards fifty. A proud woman she looked as she +sat there; her hair light and silky, her blue eyes disdainful, her +dress a rich purple silk, with fine white lace about it.</p> + +<p>"Here is Charles Strange at last," Mr. Brightman said to her, and she +replied by a<span class="pagenum">[85}</span> slight bend of the head. She did not offer to shake +hands with me.</p> + +<p>"I have heard of you as living in Essex Street," she condescended to +observe, as I sat down. "Your relatives do not, I presume, live in +London?"</p> + +<p>"I have not any near relatives," was my answer. "My great-uncle lives +in London, but he is away just now."</p> + +<p>"You were speaking of that great civil cause, Emma, lately tried in +the country; and of the ability of the defendants' counsel, Serjeant +Stillingfar," put in Mr. Brightman. "It is Serjeant Stillingfar, if +you remember, who is Charles's uncle."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed," she said; and I thought her manner became rather more +gracious. And ah, what a gracious, charming lady she could be when she +pleased!—when she was amongst people whom she considered of her own +rank and degree.</p> + +<p>"Where is Annabel?" asked Mr. Brightman.</p> + +<p>"She has gone dancing off somewhere,"<span class="pagenum">[86}</span> was Mrs. Brightman's reply. "I +never saw such a child. She is never five minutes together in one +place."</p> + +<p>Presently she danced in. A graceful, pretty child, apparently about +twelve, in a light-blue silk frock. She wore her soft brown hair in +curls round her head, and they flew about as she flew, and a bright +colour rose to her cheeks with every word she spoke, and her eyes were +like her father's—dark, tender, expressive. Not any resemblance could +I trace to her mother, unless it lay in the same delicately-formed +features.</p> + +<p>We had a plain dinner; a quarter of lamb, pastry and creams. Mr. +Brightman did not exactly apologize for it, but explained that on +Sundays they had as little cooking as possible. But it was handsomely +served, and there were several sorts of wine. Three servants waited at +table, two in livery and the butler in plain clothes.</p> + +<p>Some little time after it was over, Mr. Brightman left the room, and +Mrs. Brightman, without the least ceremony, leaned back<span class="pagenum">[87}</span> in an +easy-chair and closed her eyes. I said something to the child. She did +not answer, but came to me on tiptoe.</p> + +<p>"If we talk, mamma will be angry," she whispered. "She never lets me +make a noise while she goes to sleep. Would you like to come out on +the lawn? We may talk there."</p> + +<p>I nodded, and Annabel silently opened and passed out at one of the +French windows, holding it back for me. I as silently closed it.</p> + +<p>"Take care that it is quite shut," she said, "or the draught may get +to mamma. Papa has gone to his room to smoke his cigar," she +continued; "and we shall have coffee when mamma awakes. We do not take +tea until after church. Shall you go to church with us?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say I shall. Do you go?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. My governess tells me never to miss attending church +twice on Sundays, unless there is very good cause for doing so, and +then things will go well<span class="pagenum">[88}</span> with me in the week. But if I wished to stay +at home, papa would not let me. Once, do you know, I made an excuse to +stay away from morning service: I said my head ached badly, though it +did not. It was to read a book that had been lent me, 'The Old English +Baron.' I feared my governess would not let me read it, if she saw it, +because it was about ghosts, so that I had only the Sunday to read it +in. Well, do you know, that next week nothing went right with me; my +lessons were turned back, my drawing was spoilt, and my French +mistress tore my translation in two. Oh, dear! it was nothing but +scolding and crossness. So at last, on the Saturday, I burst into +tears and told Miss Shelley about staying away from church and the +false excuse I had made. But she was very kind, and would not punish +me, for she said I had already had a whole week of punishment."</p> + +<p>Of all the little chatterboxes! "Is Miss Shelley your governess now?" +I asked her.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[89}</span></p> + +<p>"Yes. But her mother is an invalid, so mamma allows her to go home +every Saturday night and come back on Monday morning. Mamma says it is +pleasant to have Sunday to ourselves. But I like Miss Shelley very +much, and should be dull without her if papa were not at home. I do +love Sundays, because papa's here. Did you ever read 'The Old English +Baron'?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Shall I lend it you to take home?" continued Annabel, her cheeks +glowing, her eyes sparkling with good-nature. "I have it for my own +now. It is a very nice book. Have your sisters read it? Perhaps you +have no sisters?"</p> + +<p>"I have no real sisters, and my father and mother are dead. I have—"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, how sad!" interrupted Annabel, clasping her hands. "Not to +have a father and mother! Was it"—after a pause—"you who lived with +Miss Methold?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Did you know her?"</p> + +<p>"I knew her; and I liked her—oh, very<span class="pagenum">[90}</span> much. Papa used to take me to +see her sometimes. With whom do you live now?"</p> + +<p>"I live in lodgings."</p> + +<p>She stood looking at me with her earnest eyes—thoughtful eyes just +then.</p> + +<p>"Then who sews the buttons on your shirts?"</p> + +<p>I burst into laughter: the reader may have done the same. "My landlady +professes to sew them on, Annabel, but the shirts often go without +buttons. Sometimes I sew one on myself."</p> + +<p>"If you had one off now, and it was not Sunday, I would sew it on for +you," said Annabel. "Why do you laugh?"</p> + +<p>"At your concern about my domestic affairs, my dear little girl."</p> + +<p>"But there's a gentleman who lives in lodgings and comes here +sometimes to dine with papa—he is older than you—and he says it is +the worst trouble of life to have no one to sew his buttons on. Who +takes care of you if you are ill?" she added, after another pause.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[91}</span></p> + +<p>"As there is no one to take care of me, I cannot afford to be ill, +Annabel. I am generally quite well."</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that. Was your father a lawyer, like papa?"</p> + +<p>"No. He was a clergyman."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't turn," she cried; "I want to show you my birds. We have an +aviary, and they are beautiful. Papa lets me call them mine; and some +of them are mine in reality, for they were bought for me. Mamma does +not care for birds."</p> + +<p>Presently I asked Annabel her age.</p> + +<p>"Fourteen."</p> + +<p>"Fourteen!" I exclaimed in surprise.</p> + +<p>"I was fourteen in January. Mamma says I ought not to tell people my +age, for they will only think me more childish; but papa says I may +tell everyone."</p> + +<p>She was in truth a child for her years; especially as age is now +considered. She ran about, showing me everything, her frock, her +curls, her eyes dancing: from the aviary to the fowls, from the fowls +to the flowers:<span class="pagenum">[92}</span> all innocent objects of her daily pleasures, innocent +and guileless as she herself.</p> + +<p>A smart-looking maid, with red ringlets flowing about her red cheeks, +and wide cap-strings flowing behind them, came up.</p> + +<p>"Why, here you are!" she exclaimed. "I've been looking all about for +you, Miss Annabel. Your mamma says you are to come in."</p> + +<p>"We are coming, Hatch; we were turning at that moment," answered the +child. "Is coffee ready?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Annabel, and waiting."</p> + +<p>In the evening we went to church, the servants following at some +distance. Afterwards we had tea, and then I rose to depart. Mr. +Brightman walked with me across the lawn, and we had almost reached +the iron gates when there came a sound of swift steps behind us.</p> + +<p>"Papa! papa! Is he gone? Is Mr. Strange gone?"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter now?" asked Mr. Brightman.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[93}</span></p> + +<p>"I promised to lend Mr. Strange this: it is 'The Old English Baron.' +He has never read it."</p> + +<p>"There, run back," said Mr. Brightman, as I turned and took the book +from her. "You will catch cold, Annabel."</p> + +<p>"What a charming child she is, sir!" I could not help exclaiming.</p> + +<p>"She is that," he replied. "A true child of nature, knowing no harm +and thinking none. Mrs. Brightman complains that her ideas and manners +are unformed; no style about her, she says, no reserve. In my opinion +that ought to constitute a child's chief charm. All Annabel's parts +are good. Of sense, intellect, talent, she possesses her full share; +and I am thankful that they are not prematurely developed. I am +thankful," he repeated with emphasis, "that she is not a forward +child. In my young days, girls were girls, but now there is not such a +thing to be found. They are all women. I do not admire the forcing +system myself; forced vegetables, forced fruit, forced children:<span class="pagenum">[94}</span> they +are good for little. A genuine child, such as Annabel, is a treasure +rarely met with."</p> + +<p>I thought so too.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i008.jpg" width="150" height="173" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[95}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i009a.jpg" width="400" height="107" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<p class="h3">WATTS'S WIFE.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-l.jpg" width="80" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">L</span>EAVING</b> the omnibus at Charing Cross, I was hastening along the Strand +on my way home, when I ran against a gentleman, who was swaggering +along in a handsome, capacious cloak as if all the street belonged to +him.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," I said, in apology. "I——" And there I broke off +to stare, for I thought I recognised him in the gaslight.</p> + +<p>"Why! It is Major Carlen!"</p> + +<p>"Just so. And it is Charles. How are you, Charles?"</p> + +<p>"Have you lately come from Brussels?"<span class="pagenum">[96}</span> I asked, as we shook hands. +"And how did you leave mamma and Blanche?"</p> + +<p>"They are in Gloucester Place," he answered. "We all came over last +Wednesday."</p> + +<p>"I wonder they did not let me know it."</p> + +<p>"Plenty of time, young man. They will not be going away in a hurry. We +are settling down here again. You can come up when you like."</p> + +<p>"That will be to-morrow then. Good-night, sir."</p> + +<p>But it was not until Monday evening that I could get away. Mr. Lennard +went out in the afternoon on some private matter of his own, and +desired me to remain in to see a client, who had sent us word he +should call, although it was Easter Monday. Mr. Brightman did not come +to town that day.</p> + +<p>Six o'clock was striking when I reached Gloucester Place. Blanche ran +to meet me in the passage, and we had a spell of kissing. I think she +was then about fourteen; perhaps fifteen. A fair, upright, beautiful +girl,<span class="pagenum">[97}</span> with the haughty blue eyes of her childhood, and a shower of +golden curls.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Charley, I am so glad! I thought you were never, never coming to +us."</p> + +<p>"I did not know you were here until last night. You should have sent +me word."</p> + +<p>"I told mamma so; but she was not well. She is not well yet. The +journey tired her, you see, and the sea was rough. Come upstairs and +see her, Charley. Papa has just gone out."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carlen sat over the fire in the drawing-room in an easy-chair, a +shawl upon her shoulders. It was a dull evening, twilight not far off, +and she sat with her back to the light. It struck me she looked thin +and ill. I had been over once or twice to stay with them in Brussels; +the last time, eighteen months ago.</p> + +<p>"Are you well, mamma?" I asked as she kissed me—for I had not left +off calling her by the fond old childhood's name. "You don't look so."</p> + +<p>"The journey tired me, Charley," she<span class="pagenum">[98}</span> answered—just as Blanche had +said to me. "I have a little cold, too. Sit down, my boy."</p> + +<p>"Have you come back here for good?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, I suppose so," she replied with hesitation. "For the +present, at all events."</p> + +<p>Tea was brought in. Blanche made it; her mother kept to her chair and +her shawl. The more I looked at her, the greater grew the conviction +that something beyond common ailed her. Major Carlen was dining out, +and they had dined in the middle of the day.</p> + +<p>Alas! I soon knew what was wrong. After tea, contriving to get rid of +Blanche for a few minutes on some plausible excuse, she told me all. +An inward complaint was manifesting itself, and it was hard to say how +it might terminate. The Belgian doctors had not been very reassuring +upon the point. On the morrow she was going to consult James Paget.</p> + +<p>"Does Blanche know?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Not yet. I must see Mr. Paget before<span class="pagenum">[99}</span> saying anything to her. If my +own fears are confirmed, I shall tell her. In that case I shall lose +no time in placing her at school."</p> + +<p>"At school!"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, Charley. What else can be done? This will be no home for +her when I am out of it. Not at an ordinary school, though. I shall +send her to our old home, White Littleham Rectory. Mr. and Mrs. +Ravensworth are there still. She takes two or three pupils to bring up +with her own daughter, and will be glad of Blanche. There—we will put +that subject away for the present, Charley. I want to ask you about +something else, and Blanche will soon be back again. Do you see much +of Tom Heriot?"</p> + +<p>"I see him very rarely indeed. He is not quartered in London, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Charles, I am afraid—I am very much afraid that Tom is wild," she +went on, after a pause. "He came into his money last year: six +thousand pounds. We hear that he has been launching out into all sorts +of<span class="pagenum">[100}</span> extravagance ever since. That must mean that he is drawing on his +capital."</p> + +<p>I had heard a little about Tom's doings myself. At least, Lake had +done so, which came to the same thing. But I did not say this.</p> + +<p>"It distresses me much, Charles. You know how careless and improvident +Tom is, and yet how generous-hearted. He will bring himself to ruin if +he does not mind, and what would become of him then? Major Carlen +says—Hush! here comes Blanche."</p> + +<p>I cannot linger over this part of my story. Mrs. Carlen died; and +Blanche was sent to White Littleham.</p> + +<p>And, indeed, of the next few passing years there is not much to +record. I obtained my certificate, as a matter of course. Then I +managed, by Mr. Brightman's kindness in sparing me, and by my uncle's +liberality, to keep a few terms at Oxford. I was twenty-three when I +kept the last term, and then I was sent for some months to Paris, to +make myself acquainted with law as administered<span class="pagenum">[101}</span> in the French courts. +That over, arrangements were made for my becoming Mr. Brightman's +partner. If he had had sons, one of them would probably have filled +the position. Having none, he admitted me on easy terms, for I had my +brains about me, as the saying runs, and was excessively useful to the +firm. A certain sum was paid down by Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, and the +firm became Brightman and Strange. I was to receive at first only a +small portion of the profits. And let me say here, that all my +expenses of every description, during these past years, had been +provided for by that good man, Charles Stillingfar, and provided +liberally. So there I was in an excellent position, settled for life +when only twenty-four years of age.</p> + +<p>After coming home from Paris to enter upon these new arrangements, I +found Mr. Brightman had installed a certain James Watts in Essex +Street as care-taker and messenger, our former man, Dickory, having +become old and feeble. A good change.<span class="pagenum">[102}</span> Dickory, in growing old, had +grown fretful and obstinate, and liked his own way and will better +than that of his masters. Watts was well-mannered and well-spoken; +respectable and trustworthy. His wife's duties were to keep the rooms +clean, in which she was at liberty to have in a woman to help once or +twice a week if she so minded, and up to the present time to prepare +Mr. Brightman's daily luncheon. They lived in the rooms on the bottom +floor, one of which was their bedroom.</p> + +<p>"I like them both," I said to Mr. Brightman, when I had been back a +day or two. "Things will be comfortable now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Charles; I hope you will find them so," he answered.</p> + +<p>For it ought to be mentioned that, in becoming Mr. Brightman's +partner, it had been settled that I should return as an inmate to the +house. He said he should prefer it. And, indeed, I thought I should +also. So that I had taken up my abode there at once.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[103}</span></p> + +<p>The two rooms on the ground floor were occupied by the clerks. Mr. +Lennard had his desk in the back one. Miss Methold's parlour, a few +steps lower, was now not much used, except that a client was sometimes +taken into it. The large front room on the first floor was Mr. +Brightman's private room; the back one was mine; but he had also a +desk in it. These two rooms opened to one another. The floor above +this was wholly given over to me; sitting-room, bedroom, and +dressing-room. The top floor was only used for boxes, and on those +rare occasions when someone wanted to sleep at the office. Watts and +his wife were to attend to me; she to see to the meals, he to wait +upon me.</p> + +<p>"I should let her get in everything without troubling, and bring up +the bills weekly, were I you, Charles," remarked Mr. Brightman, one +evening when he had stayed later than usual, and was in my room, and +we fell to talking of the man and his wife. "Much better than for her +to be coming to you<span class="pagenum">[104}</span> everlastingly, saying you want this and you want +that. She is honest, I feel sure, and I had the best of characters +with both of them."</p> + +<p>"She has an honest face," I answered. "But it looks sad. And what a +silent woman she is. Speaking of her face though, sir, it puts me in +mind of someone's, and I cannot think whose."</p> + +<p>"You may have seen her somewhere or other," remarked Mr. Brightman.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I can't remember where. I'll ask her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Watts was then coming into the room with some water, which Mr. +Brightman had rung for. She looked about forty-five years old; a thin, +bony woman of middle height, with a pale, gray, wrinkled face, and +gray hairs banded under a huge cap, tied under her chin.</p> + +<p>"There's something about your face that seems familiar to me, Mrs. +Watts," I said, as she put down the glass and the bottle of water. +"Have I ever seen you before?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[105}</span></p> + +<p>She was pouring out the water, and did not look at me. "I can't say, +sir," she answered in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember <i>me</i>? That's the better question."</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "Watts and I lived in Ely Place for some years +before we came here, sir," she then said. "It's not impossible you may +have seen me in the street when I was doing the steps; but I never saw +you pass by that I know of."</p> + +<p>"And before that, where did you live?"</p> + +<p>"Before that, sir? At Dover."</p> + +<p>"Ah! well," I said, for this did not help me out with my puzzle; "I +suppose it is fancy."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brightman caught up the last word as Mrs. Watts withdrew. "Fancy, +Charles; that's what it must be. And fancy sometimes plays wonderful +tricks with us."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I expect it is fancy. For all that, I feel perplexed. The +woman's voice and manner seem to strike a chord in my memory as much +as her face does."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[106}</span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>"Captain Heriot, sir."</p> + +<p>Sitting one evening in my room at dusk in the summer weather, the +window open to the opposite wall and to the side view of the Thames, +waiting for Lake to come in, Watts had thus interrupted me to show in +Tom Heriot. I started up and grasped his hands. He was a handsome +young fellow, with the open manners that had charmed the world in the +days gone by, and charmed it still.</p> + +<p>"Charley, boy! It is good to see you."</p> + +<p>"Ay, and to see <i>you</i>, Tom. Are you staying in London?"</p> + +<p>"Why, we have been here for days! What a fellow you are, not to know +that we are now quartered here. Don't you read the newspapers? It used +to be said, you remember, that young Charley lived in a wood."</p> + +<p>I laughed. "And how are things with you, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"Rather down; have been for a long time; getting badder and badder."</p> + +<p>My heart gave a thump. In spite of his<span class="pagenum">[107}</span> laughing air and bright smile, +I feared it might be too true.</p> + +<p>"I am going to the deuce, headlong, Charley."</p> + +<p>"Don't, Tom!"</p> + +<p>"Don't what? Not go or not talk of it? It is as sure as death, lad."</p> + +<p>"Have you made holes in your money?"</p> + +<p>"Fairly so. I think I may say so, considering that the whole of it is +spent."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tom!"</p> + +<p>"Every individual stiver. But upon my honour as a soldier, Charley, +other people have had more of it than I. A lot of it went at once, +when I came into it, paying off back debts."</p> + +<p>"What shall you do? You will never make your pay suffice."</p> + +<p>"Sell out, I expect."</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>Tom shrugged his shoulders in answer. They were very slender +shoulders. His frame was slight altogether, suggesting that he might +not be strong. He was<span class="pagenum">[108}</span> about as tall as I—rather above middle height.</p> + +<p>"Take a clerkship with you, at twenty shillings a week, if you'd give +it me. Or go out to the Australian diggings to pick up gold. How grave +you look, Charles!"</p> + +<p>"It is a grave subject. But I hope you are saying this in joke, Tom."</p> + +<p>"Half in joke, half in earnest. I will not sell out if I can help it; +be sure of that, old man; but I think it will have to come to it. Can +you give me something to drink, Charley? I am thirsty."</p> + +<p>"Will you take some tea? I am just going to have mine. Or anything +else instead?"</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of brandy and soda. But I don't mind if I do try tea, +for once. Ay, I will. Have it up, Charley."</p> + +<p>I rang the bell, and Mrs. Watts brought it up.</p> + +<p>"Anything else, sir?" she stayed to ask.</p> + +<p>"Not at present. Watts has gone out with that letter, I suppose?—— +Why, you have forgotten the milk!"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[109}</span></p> + +<p>She gave a sharp word at her own stupidity, and left the room. Tom's +eyes had been fixed upon her, following her to the last. He began +slowly pushing back his bright brown hair, as he would do in his +boyhood when anything puzzled him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I remember," he suddenly exclaimed. "So you have <i>her</i> here, +Charley!"</p> + +<p>"Who here?"</p> + +<p>"Leah."</p> + +<p>"<i>Leah!</i> What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"That servant of yours."</p> + +<p>"That is our messenger's wife: Mrs. Watts."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Watts she may be now, for aught I know; but she was Leah +Williams when we were youngsters, Charley."</p> + +<p>"Impossible, Tom. This old woman cannot be Leah."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, lad, it is Leah," he persisted. "No mistake about it. At +the first moment I did not recollect her. I have a good eye for faces, +but she is wonderfully altered. Do you mean to say she has not made +herself known to you?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[110}</span></p> + +<p>I shook my head. But even as Tom spoke, little items of remembrance +that had worried my brain began to clear themselves bit by bit. Mrs. +Watts came in with the milk.</p> + +<p>She had put it down on the tray when Tom walked up to her, holding out +his hand, his countenance all smiles, his hazel eyes dancing.</p> + +<p>"How are you, Leah, after all these years? Shake hands for auld lang +syne. Do you sing the song still?"</p> + +<p>Leah gave one startled glance and then threw her white apron up to her +face with a sob.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," said Tom kindly. "I didn't want to startle you, Leah."</p> + +<p>"I didn't think you would know me, sir," she said, lifting her +woebegone face. "Mr. Charles here did not."</p> + +<p>"Not know you! I should know you sooner than my best sweetheart," +cried Tom gaily.</p> + +<p>"Leah," I interposed, gravely turning to<span class="pagenum">[111}</span> her, "how is it that you did +not let me know who you were? Why have you kept it from me?"</p> + +<p>She stood with her back against Mr. Brightman's desk, hot tears +raining down her worn cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I <i>couldn't</i> tell you, Master Charles. I'm sorry you know now. It's +like a stab to me."</p> + +<p>"But why could you not tell me?"</p> + +<p>"Pride, I suppose," she shortly said. "I was upper servant at the +Rectory; your mamma's own maid, Master Charles: and I couldn't bear +you should know that I had come down to this. A servant of all +work—scrubbing floors and washing dishes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's nothing," struck in Tom cheerfully. "Most of us have our +ups and downs, Leah. As far as I can foresee, I may be scouring out +pots and pans at the gold-diggings next year. I have just been saying +so to Mr. Charley. Your second marriage venture was an unlucky one, I +expect?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[112}</span></p> + +<p>Leah was crying silently. "No, it is not that," she answered presently +in a low tone. "Watts is a steady and respectable man; very much so; +above me, if anything. It—it—I have had cares and crosses of my own, +Mr. Tom; I have them always; and they keep me down."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell me what they are," said Tom. "I may be able to help you. I +will if I can."</p> + +<p>Leah sighed and moved to the door. "You are just as kind-hearted as +ever, Mr. Tom; I see that; and I thank you. Nobody can help me, sir. +And my trouble is secret to myself: one I cannot speak of to anyone in +the world."</p> + +<p>Just as kind-hearted as ever! Yes, Tom Heriot was that, and always +would be. Embarrassed as he no doubt was for money, he slipped a gold +piece into Leah's hand as she left the room, whispering that it was +for old friendship's sake.</p> + +<p>And so that was Leah! Back again waiting upon me, as she had waited +when I was a child. It was passing strange.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[113}</span></p> + +<p>I spoke to her that night, and asked her to confide her trouble to me. +The bare suggestion seemed to terrify her.</p> + +<p>"It was a dreadful trouble," she admitted in answer; "a nightly and +daily torment; one that at times went well-nigh to frighten her senses +away. But she must keep it secret, though she died for it."</p> + +<p>And as Leah whispered this to me under her breath, she cast dread +glances around the walls on all sides, as if she feared that +eaves-droppers might be there.</p> + +<p>What on earth could the secret be?</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>And now, for a time, I retire into the background, and cease +personally to tell the story.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i010.jpg" width="150" height="159" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[114}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i011a.jpg" width="400" height="110" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">BLANCHE HERIOT.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-o.jpg" width="81" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">O</span>N</b> one of those promising days that we now and then see in February, +which seem all the more warm and lovely in contrast with the passing +winter, the parsonage of White Littleham put on its gayest appearance +within—perhaps in response to the fair face of nature without. A +group of four girls had collected in the drawing-room. One was taking +the brown holland covers from the chairs, sofa, and footstools; +another was bringing out certain ornaments, elegant trifles, displayed +only on state occasions; the other two were filling glasses with +evergreens<span class="pagenum">[115}</span> and hot-house flowers. It was the same room in which you +once saw poor Mrs. Strange lying on her road to death. The parsonage +received three young ladies to share in the advantages of foreign +governesses, provided for the education of its only daughter, Cecilia.</p> + +<p>Whilst the girls were thus occupied, a middle-aged lady entered, the +mistress of the house, and wife of the Reverend John Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Ravensworth, why did you come in? We did not want you to see +it until it was all finished."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ravensworth smiled. "My dears, it will only look as it has looked +many a time before; as it did at Christmas—"</p> + +<p>"Mamma, you must excuse my interrupting you," cried the young girl who +was arranging the ornaments; "but it will look very different from +then. At Christmas we had wretched weather, and see it to-day. And at +Christmas we had not the visitors we shall have now."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[116}</span></p> + +<p>"We had one of the two visitors, at any rate, Cecilia."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we had Arnold. But Arnold is nobody; we are used to him."</p> + +<p>"And Major Carlen is somebody," interposed the only beautiful girl +present, looking round from the flowers with a laugh. "Thank you, in +papa's name, Cecilia."</p> + +<p>Very beautiful was she: exceedingly fair, with somewhat haughty blue +eyes, delicate features, and fine golden hair. Blanche Heriot (as +often as not called Blanche Carlen at the Rectory) stood conspicuous +amidst the rest of the girls. They were pleasing-looking and +lady-like, but that was all. Rather above middle-height, slender, +graceful, she stood as a queen beside her companions. Under different +auspices, Blanche Heriot might have become vain and worldly; but, +enshrined as she had been for the last few years within the precincts +of a humble parsonage, and trained in its doctrines of practical +Christianity, Blanche had become thoroughly imbued with the<span class="pagenum">[117}</span> +influences around her. Now, in her twentieth year, she was simple and +guileless as a child.</p> + +<p>It was so long since she had seen her father—as she was pleased to +call Major Carlen—that she had partly forgotten what he was like. He +was expected now on a two days' visit, and for him the house was being +made to look its best. The other visitor, coming by accident at the +same time, was Arnold Ravensworth, the Rector's nephew.</p> + +<p>Major Carlen's promised visit was an event to the quiet Rector and his +wife. All they knew of him was that he was step-father to Blanche, and +a man who moved in the gay circles of the world. The interest of +Blanche Heriot's money had paid for her education and dress. The Major +would have liked the fingering of it amazingly; but to covet is one +thing, to obtain is another. Blanche's money was safe in the hands of +trustees; but before Mrs. Carlen died she had appointed her husband +Blanche's personal guardian, with power to control her residence<span class="pagenum">[118}</span> when +she should have attained her eighteenth year. That had been passed +some time now, and Major Carlen had just awakened to his +responsibilities.</p> + +<p>The first to arrive was Arnold Ravensworth, a distinguished-looking +man, with a countenance cold, it must be confessed, but full of +intellect. And the next to arrive was not the Major. The day passed on +to night. The trains came into the neighbouring station, but they did +not bring Major Carlen. Blanche cried herself to sleep. She remembered +how kind her papa used to be to her—indulging her and taking her +about to see sights—and she had cherished a great affection for him. +In fact, the Major had always indulged little Blanche.</p> + +<p>Neither had he come the next morning. After breakfast, Blanche went to +the end of the garden and stood looking out across the field. The +shady dingle, where as a little child she had sat to pick violets and +primroses, was there; but she was gazing at<span class="pagenum">[119}</span> something else—the path +that would bring her father. Arnold Ravensworth came strolling up +behind her.</p> + +<p>"You know the old saying, Blanche: a watched-for visitor never comes."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, why do you depress me, Arnold? To watch is something. I +shall cross the field and look up the road."</p> + +<p>They started off in the sunshine. Blanche had a pretty straw hat on. +She took the arm Mr. Ravensworth held out to her. Very soon, a +stranger turned into the field and came swinging towards them.</p> + +<p>"Blanche, is this the Major?"</p> + +<p>It was a tall, large-limbed, angular man in an old blue cloak lined +with scarlet. He had iron-gray hair and whiskers, gray, hard eyes, a +large twisted nose, and very white teeth. Blanche laughed merrily.</p> + +<p>"That papa! What an idea you must have of him, Arnold! Papa was a +handsome man with black hair, and had lost two of his front teeth. +They were knocked out, fighting with the Caffres."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[120}</span></p> + +<p>The stranger came on, staring intently at the good-looking young man +and the beautiful girl on his arm. Mr. Ravensworth spoke in a low +tone.</p> + +<p>"Are you quite sure, Blanche? Black hair turns gray, remember; and he +has a little travelling portmanteau under that cloak."</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke, something in the stranger's face struck upon Blanche +Heriot's memory. She disengaged herself and approached him, too +agitated to weigh her words.</p> + +<p>"Oh—I beg your pardon—are you not papa?"</p> + +<p>Major Carlen looked at her closely. "Are you Blanche?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am Blanche. Oh, papa!"</p> + +<p>The Major tucked his step-daughter under his own arm; and Mr. +Ravensworth went on to give notice of the arrival.</p> + +<p>"Papa, I never saw anyone so much altered!"</p> + +<p>"Nor I," interposed the Major. "I was<span class="pagenum">[121}</span> wondering what deuced handsome +girl was strolling towards me. You are beautiful, Blanche; more so +than your mother was, and she was handsome."</p> + +<p>Blanche, confused though she felt at the compliment, could not return +it.</p> + +<p>"Who is that young fellow?" resumed the Major.</p> + +<p>"Arnold Ravensworth; Mr. Ravensworth's nephew. He lives in London, and +came down yesterday for a short visit."</p> + +<p>"Oh. Does he come often?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty often. We wish it was oftener. We like him to be here."</p> + +<p>"He seems presuming."</p> + +<p>"Dear papa! Presuming! He is not at all so. And he is very talented +and clever. He took honours at Oxford, and—"</p> + +<p>"I see," interrupted Major Carlen, displaying his large and regular +teeth—a habit of his when not pleased. He had rapidly taken up an +idea, and it angered him. "Is this the parson, Blanche? He looks very +sanctimonious."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[122}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, papa!" she returned, feeling ready to cry at his contemptuous +tone. "He is the best man that ever lived. Everyone loves and respects +him."</p> + +<p>"Hope it's merited, my dear," concluded the Major, as he met the hand +of the Reverend John Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>Ere middle-day, the Major had scattered a small bombshell through the +parsonage by announcing that he had come to take his daughter away. +Blanche felt it bitterly. It was her home, and a happy one. To +exchange it for the Major's did not look now an inviting prospect. +Though she would not acknowledge it to her own heart, she was +beginning to regard him with more awe than love. That the resolution +must have been suddenly formed she knew, for he had not come down with +any intention of removing her.</p> + +<p>"Papa, my things can never be ready," was her last forlorn argument, +when others had failed.</p> + +<p>"Things?" said the Major. "Trunks,<span class="pagenum">[123}</span> and clothes, and rattle-traps? +They can be sent after you, Blanche."</p> + +<p>"I have a bird," cried Blanche, her eyes filling. "There it is, in the +cage."</p> + +<p>"Leave it as a souvenir to the Rectory. Blanche, don't be a child. I +have pictured you as one hitherto, but now that I see you I find my +mistake. You must be thinking of other things, my dear."</p> + +<p>And thus Blanche Heriot was hurried away. All the parsonage escorted +her to the station, the girls in tears, and she almost heart-broken.</p> + +<p>Of late years Major Carlen had been almost always in debt and +difficulty. His property was mortgaged. His only certainty was his +half-pay; but he was lucky at cards, and often luckier at betting. He +retained his club and his visiting connection, and dined out three +parts of his time. Just now he was up in the world, having scored a +prize on some winter racecourse, and he was back in his house in +Gloucester Place. It had been let furnished for three years,<span class="pagenum">[124}</span> portions +of which time the Major had spent abroad.</p> + +<p>"It will be very dull for me, papa," sighed Blanche, as they were +whirling along in an express train. "I dare say you are out all day +long, as you used to be."</p> + +<p>"Not dull at all," said the Major. "You must make Mrs. Guy take you +out and about."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Guy!" exclaimed Blanche, her blue eyes opening widely. "Is she +in London?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and a fine old guy she is; more ridiculously nervous than ever," +replied the Major. "She arrived unexpectedly from Jersey one evening +last week, and quartered herself upon Gloucester Place; for an +indefinite period, no doubt. She did this once before, if you +remember, in your poor mamma's time."</p> + +<p>"She will be something in the way of company for me," said Blanche +with another sigh.</p> + +<p>"Aye! She is a stupid goose, but you'll<span class="pagenum">[125}</span> be safer under her wing and +mine than you would have been ruralising in the fields and the +parsonage garden with that Arnold Ravensworth. I have eyes, Miss +Blanche."</p> + +<p>So had Blanche, especially just then; and they were wide open and +fixed upon the Major.</p> + +<p>"Doing what, papa?" cried she.</p> + +<p>"I saw his drift: 'Blanche' this, and 'Blanche' the other, and his arm +put out for you at every turn! No, no; I do not leave you there to be +converted into Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth."</p> + +<p>Blanche clasped her hands and broke into merry laughter. "Oh, papa, +what an idea!—how could you imagine it? Why, he is going to marry +Mary Stopford."</p> + +<p>Major Carlen looked blank. Had he made all this inconvenient haste for +nothing?</p> + +<p>"Who the deuce is Mary Stopford?"</p> + +<p>"She lives in Devonshire. A pale, gentle girl with nice eyes: I have +seen her picture. Arnold wears it attached to a little chain inside +his waistcoat. They are to be married<span class="pagenum">[126}</span> in the autumn when the House is +up. The very notion of my marrying Arnold Ravensworth!" broke off +Blanche with another laugh. A laugh that was quite sufficient to prove +the fact that she was heart-whole.</p> + +<p>"The House!" repeated the Major. "Who is he, then?"</p> + +<p>"He is very well off as to fortune, and is—something. It has to do +with the House, not as a Member, though he will be that soon, I +believe. I think he is secretary to one of the Ministers. His father +was the elder brother, and the Reverend John Ravensworth the younger. +There is a very great difference in their positions. Arnold is +well-off, and said to be a rising man."</p> + +<p>Every word increased Major Carlen's vexation. Even had his fear been +correct, it seemed that the young man would not have been an +undesirable match for Blanche, and he had saddled himself with her at +a most inconvenient moment!</p> + +<p>"Well, well," thought he; "she will soon make her mark, unless I am +mistaken, and<span class="pagenum">[127}</span> there's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of +it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Guy, widow of the late Admiral Guy, vegetating for years past +upon her slight income in Jersey, was Major Carlen's younger sister, +and a smaller edition of himself. She had the same generally +fair-featured face, with the twisted nose and the gray eyes; but while +his eyes were hard and fierce, hers were soft and kindly. She was a +well-meaning, but indescribably silly woman; and her nervous fears and +fancies had so grown upon her that they were becoming a disease. Lying +before the fire on a sofa in her bedroom, she received Blanche with a +flood of tears, supplemented by several moans. The tears were caused +by the pleased surprise; the moans at her having come home on a +Friday, for that must surely betoken ill-luck. Blanche was irreverent +enough to laugh.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Major Carlen still counted a few acquaintances of consideration in the +social world, and Miss Heriot was introduced to them.<span class="pagenum">[128}</span> Mrs. Guy was +persuaded to temporarily forget her ailments, and to act as chaperon. +The Major gave his sister a new dress and bonnet, and a cap or two; +and as she had not yet quite done with vanity (has a woman <i>ever</i> done +with it?), she fell before the bribe.</p> + +<p>He had been right in his opinion that Blanche's beauty would not fail +to make its mark. So charming a girl, so lovely of face and graceful +of form, so innocent of guile, had not been seen of late. Before the +spring had greatly advanced, a Captain Cross made proposals for her to +the Major. He was of excellent family, and offered fair settlements. +The Major accepted him, not deeming it at all necessary to consult his +daughter.</p> + +<p>Blanche rebelled. "I don't care for him, papa," she objected.</p> + +<p>The Major gave his nose a twist. He did not intend to have any trouble +with Blanche, and would not allow her to begin it.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[129}</span></p> + +<p>"Not care!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What does that matter? Captain +Cross is a fine man, stands six feet one, and you'll care for him in +time."</p> + +<p>"But, before I consent to marry him, I ought to know whether I shall +like him or not."</p> + +<p>"Blanche, you are a dunce! You have been smothered up in that +parsonage till you know nothing. Do you suppose that in our class of +society it is usual to fall in love, as the ploughboys and milkmaids +do? People marry first, and grow accustomed to each other afterwards. +Whatever you do, my dear, don't betray <i>gaucherie</i> of that kind."</p> + +<p>Blanche Heriot doubted. She never supposed but that he whom she called +father had her true interest at heart, and must be so acting. Mrs. +Guy, too, unconsciously swayed her. A martyr to poverty herself, she +believed that in marrying one so well-off as Captain Cross, a girl +must enter upon the seventh heaven of happiness. Altogether, Blanche +yielded; yielded against her inclination<span class="pagenum">[130}</span> and her better judgment. She +consented to marry Captain Cross, and preparations were begun.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Arnold Ravensworth had been an occasional visitor at Major +Carlen's, the Major making no sort of objection, now that +circumstances were explained: indeed, he encouraged him there, and was +especially cordial. Major Carlen had invariably one eye on the world +and the other on self-interest, and it occurred to him that a rising +man, as Arnold Ravensworth beyond doubt was, might prove useful to him +in one way or another.</p> + +<p>One evening, when it was yet only the beginning of April, Mr. +Ravensworth called in Gloucester Place, and found the Major alone.</p> + +<p>"Are Mrs. Guy and Blanche out?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"They are upstairs with the dressmaker," replied the Major. "We sent +to her to-day to spur on with Blanche's things, and she has come +to-night for fresh orders."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[131}</span></p> + +<p>"Is the marriage being hurried on, Major?"</p> + +<p>"Time is creeping on, sir," was the gruff answer.</p> + +<p>"Are they getting ahead with the settlements? When I saw you last +week, you were in a way at the delay, and said lawyers had only been +invented for one's torment."</p> + +<p>"They got on, after that, and the deeds were ready and waiting for +signature. But I dropped them a note yesterday to say they might burn +them, as so much waste paper," returned the Major.</p> + +<p>"Burn the settlements!" echoed Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>The Major's eyes, that could look pleasant on occasion, glinted at his +astonishment. "Those settlements are being replaced by heavier ones," +he said. "Blanche does not marry Captain Cross. It's off. A more +eligible offer has been made her, and Cross is dismissed."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth doubted whether he heard aright. Major Carlen resumed. +"And<span class="pagenum">[132}</span> she was making herself miserable over it. She cannot endure +Cross."</p> + +<p>"What a disappointment for Cross! What a mortification! Will he accept +his dismissal?"</p> + +<p>"He will be obliged to accept it," returned the Major, pulling up his +shirt-collar, which was always high enough for two. "He has no other +choice left to him. A man does not die of love nowadays; or rush into +an action for breach of promise, and become a laughing-stock at his +club. Blanche marries Lord Level."</p> + +<p>"Lord Level!" Mr. Ravensworth repeated in a curious accent.</p> + +<p>"You look as though you doubted the information."</p> + +<p>"I do not relish it, for your daughter's sake," replied Mr. +Ravensworth. "She never can—can—like Lord Level."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with Lord Level? He may be approaching forty, +but——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth laughed. "Not just yet, Major Carlen."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[133}</span></p> + +<p>"Well, say he's thirty-four; thirty-three, if you like. Blanche, at +twenty, needs guiding. And if he is not as rich as some peers, he is +ten times richer than Cross. He met Blanche out, and came dangling +here after her. I did not give a thought to it, for I did not look +upon Level as a marrying man: he has been somewhat talked of in +another line——"</p> + +<p>"Yes," emphatically interrupted Mr. Ravensworth. "Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well!" irritably returned the Major: "then there's so much the more +credit due to him for settling down. When he found that Cross was +really expecting to have Blanche, and that he might lose her +altogether, he spoke up, and said he should like her himself."</p> + +<p>"Does Blanche approve of the exchange?"</p> + +<p>"She was rather inclined to kick at it," returned the Major, in his +respectable phraseology, "and we had a few tears.—But if you ask +questions in that sarcastic tone, sir, you don't deserve to be +answered. Not that<span class="pagenum">[134}</span> Blanche wanted to keep Cross; she acknowledged +that she was only too thankful to be rid of him; but, about behaving +dishonourably, as she called it. 'My dear,' said I, 'there's your +absurd rusticity coming in again. You don't know the world. Such +things are done in high life every day.' She believed me, and was +reconciled. You look black as a thunder-cloud, Ravensworth. What right +have you to do so, pray?"</p> + +<p>"None in the world. I beg pardon. I was thinking of Blanche's +happiness."</p> + +<p>"You had better think of her good," retorted the Major. "She likes +Level. I don't say she is yet in love with him: but she did not like +Cross. Level is an attractive man, remember."</p> + +<p>"Has been rather too much so," cynically retorted Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"Here she comes. I am going out; so you may offer your congratulations +at leisure."</p> + +<p>Major Carlen went away, and Blanche entered. She took her seat by the +fire,<span class="pagenum">[135}</span> and as Mr. Ravensworth gazed down upon her, a feeling of deep +regret and pity came over him. Shame! thought he, to sacrifice her to +Level. For in truth that nobleman's name was not in the best odour, +and Arnold Ravensworth was a man of strict notions.</p> + +<p>It has been asserted that some natures possess an affinity the one for +the other; are irresistibly drawn together in the repose of full and +perfect confidence. It is a mysterious affinity, not born of <i>love</i>: +and it may be experienced by two men or women who have outlived even +the remembrance of the passion. Had Blanche Heriot been offered to +Arnold Ravensworth, he would have declined her, for he loved another, +and she had as much idea of loving the man in the moon as of loving +him. Nevertheless, that never-dying, unfathomable part of them, the +spirit, was attracted, like finding like. Between such, there can be +little reserve.</p> + +<p>"What unexpected changes take place, Blanche!"</p> + +<p>"Do not blame me," she replied, with a<span class="pagenum">[136}</span> rising colour, her tone +sinking to a whisper. "My father says it is right, and I obey him."</p> + +<p>"I hope you like Lord Level?"</p> + +<p>"Better than I liked someone else," was her answer, as she looked into +the fire. "At first the—the change frightened me. It did not seem +right, and it was so very sudden. But I am getting over that feeling +now. Papa says he is very good."</p> + +<p>Papa says he is very good! The old hypocrite of a Major! thought Mr. +Ravensworth. But it was not his place to tell her that Lord Level had +not been very good.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Blanche!" he exclaimed, "I hope you will be happy! Is it to be +soon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they say so. As soon, I think, as the settlements can be ready. +Papa sent to-day to hurry on my wedding things. Lord Level is going +abroad immediately, and wishes to take me with him."</p> + +<p>"They say so!" was his mental repetition. "This poor child, brought up +in the innocence of her simple country home, more childish,<span class="pagenum">[137}</span> more +tractable and obedient, more inexperienced than are those of less +years who have lived in the world, is as a puppet in their hands. But +the awakening will come."</p> + +<p>"You are going?" said Blanche, as he rose. "Will you not stay and take +tea? Mrs. Guy will be down soon."</p> + +<p>"Not this evening. Hark! here is the Major back again."</p> + +<p>"I do not think it is papa's step," returned Blanche, bending her ear +to listen.</p> + +<p>It was not. As she spoke, the door was thrown open by the servant. +"Lord Level."</p> + +<p>Lord Level entered, and took the hand which Mr. Ravensworth released. +Mr. Ravensworth looked full at the peer as he passed him: they were +not acquainted. A handsome man, with a somewhat free expression—a +countenance that Mr. Ravensworth took forthwith a prejudice against, +perhaps unjustly. "Who's that, Blanche?" he heard him say as the +servant closed the door.</p> + +<p>Lord Level was a fine, powerful man, of good height and figure; his +dark auburn<span class="pagenum">[138}</span> hair was wavy and worn rather long, in accordance with +the fashion of the day. His complexion was fair and fresh, and his +features were good. Altogether he was what the Major had called him, +an attractive man. Blanche Heriot had danced with him and he had +danced with her; the one implies the other, you will say; and a liking +for one another had sprung up. It may not have been love on either +side as yet—but that is uncertain.</p> + +<p>"How lovely!" exclaimed Blanche, as he held out to her a small bouquet +of lilies-of-the-valley, and their sweet perfume caught her senses.</p> + +<p>"I brought them for you," whispered Lord Level; and he bent his face +nearer and took a silent kiss from her lips. It was the first time; +and Blanche blushed consciously.</p> + +<p>"You did not tell me who that was, Blanche."</p> + +<p>"Arnold Ravensworth," she replied. "You have heard me speak of him."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[139}</span></p> + +<p>"An ill-tempered looking man!"</p> + +<p>"Do you think so? Well, yes, perhaps he did look cross to-night. He +had been hearing about—about <i>us</i>—from papa; and I suppose it did +not please him."</p> + +<p>Archibald Baron Level drew himself up to his full height; his face +assumed its haughtiest expression. "What business is it of his?" he +asked. "Does he wish to aspire to you himself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no; he is soon to be married. He is a man of strict honour, +and I fear he thinks that papa—that I—that we have not behaved well +to Captain Cross."</p> + +<p>They were standing side by side on the hearth-rug, the fire-light +playing on them and on Blanche's shrinking face. How miserably +uncomfortable the subject of Captain Cross made her she could never +tell.</p> + +<p>"See here, Blanche," spoke Lord Level, after a pause. "I was given to +understand by Major Carlen that when Captain Cross proposed for you, +you refused him; that it was only by dint of pressure and persuasion<span class="pagenum">[140}</span> +that you consented to the engagement. Major Carlen told me that as the +time went on you became so miserable under it, hating Captain Cross +with a greater dislike day by day, that he had resolved before I spoke +<i>to save you by breaking it off</i>. Was this the case, or not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was. It is true that I felt wretchedly miserable in the +prospect of marrying Captain Cross. And oh, how I thank papa for +having himself resolved to break it off! He did not tell me that."</p> + +<p>"Because I have some honour of my own; and I would not take you +sneakingly from Cross, or any other man. You must come to me +above-board in all ways, Blanche, or not at all."</p> + +<p>Blanche felt her heart beating. She turned to glance at him, fearing +what he might mean.</p> + +<p>"So that if there is anything behind the scenes which has been kept +from me; that is, if it be not of your own good and free will that you +marry me; if you gave up<span class="pagenum">[141}</span> Captain Cross <i>liking</i> him, +because—because—well, though I feel ashamed to suggest such a +thing—because my rank may be somewhat higher than his, or for any +other reason: why then matters had better be at an end between us. No +harm will have been done, Blanche."</p> + +<p>Blanche's face was drawn and white. "Do you mean that you wish to give +me up?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Wish</i> it! It would be the greatest pain I could ever know in life. +My dear, have you failed to understand me? I want you; I want you to +be my wife; but not at the sacrifice of my honour. If Captain +Cross——"</p> + +<p>Blanche broke down. "Oh, <i>don't</i> leave me to him!" she implored. "Of +course, I could never, never marry him now; I would rather die. +Indeed, I do not quite know what you mean. It was all just as you have +been told by papa; there was nothing kept behind."</p> + +<p>Lord Level pillowed her head upon his arm. "Blanche, my dear, it was +you who<span class="pagenum">[142}</span> invoked this," he whispered, "by talking of Mr. Ravensworth's +reflection on you in his 'strict honour.' Be assured I would not leave +you to Captain Cross unless compelled to do so, or to any other man."</p> + +<p>Her tears were falling. Lord Level kissed them away.</p> + +<p>"Shall I <i>buy</i> you, my love?—bind you to me with a golden fetter?" +And, taking a small case from his waistcoat-pocket, he slipped upon +her marriage finger a hoop of gold, studded with diamonds. His +deep-gray eyes were strained upon her through their dark lashes—eyes +which had done mischief in their day—and her hand was lingering in +his.</p> + +<p>"There, Blanche; you see I have bought you; you are my property +now—my very own. And, my dear, the ring must be worn always as the +keeper of the marriage-ring when you shall be my wife."</p> + +<p>It was a most exquisite relief to her. Blanche liked him far better +than she had liked Captain Cross. And as Lord Level<span class="pagenum">[143}</span> pressed his last +kiss upon her lips—for Mrs. Guy was heard approaching—Blanche could +never be sure that she did not return it.</p> + +<p>A few more interviews such as these, and the young lady would be in +love with him heart and soul.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>And it may as well be mentioned, ere the chapter quite closes, that +Mr. Charles Strange was out of the way of all this plotting and +planning and love-making. The whole of that spring he was over in +Paris, watching a case involving English and French interests of +importance, that was on before the French courts, and of which +Brightman and Strange were the English solicitors.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i012.jpg" width="150" height="178" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[144}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i013a.jpg" width="400" height="114" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">TRIED AT THE OLD BAILEY.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-o-quote.jpg" width="101" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">"O</span>H</b>, Mrs. Guy, he is coming, after all! He is indeed!"</p> + +<p>Blanche Heriot's joyful tones, as she read the contents of a short +letter brought in by the evening post, aroused old Mrs. Guy, who was +dozing over her knitting one Tuesday evening in the May twilight.</p> + +<p>"Eh? What, my dear? Who do you say is coming?"</p> + +<p>"Tom. He says he must stretch a point for once. He cannot let anyone +else give me away."</p> + +<p>"The Major is to give you away, Blanche."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[145}</span></p> + +<p>"I know he intended to do so if Tom failed me. But Tom is my brother."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, child; settle it amongst yourselves. I don't see that it +matters one way or the other. There's a knock at the door! Dear me! It +must be Lord Level."</p> + +<p>"Lord Level cannot be back again before to-morrow. He is at Marshdale, +you know," dissented Blanche. "I think it may be Tom. I hope it is +Tom. He says here he shall be in town as soon as his letter."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strange," announced a servant, throwing wide the drawing-room +door.</p> + +<p>Charles Strange had only that morning returned from Paris, having +crossed by the night mail. The legal business on which he and Mr. +Brightman were just now so much occupied, involving serious matters +for a client who lived in Paris, had kept Charles over there nearly +all the spring. Blanche ran to his arms. She looked upon him as her +brother, quite as much as she looked upon Tom.</p> + +<p>"And so, Blanche, we are to lose you,"<span class="pagenum">[146}</span> he said, when he had kissed +her. "And within a day or two, I hear."</p> + +<p>He knew very little of Blanche Heriot's approaching marriage, except +that the bridegroom was Archibald, Lord Level. And that little he had +heard from Mr. Brightman. Blanche did not write to him about it. She +had written to tell him she was going to be married to Captain Cross: +but when that marriage was summarily broken off by Major Carlen, +Blanche felt a little ashamed, and did not send word to Charles.</p> + +<p>"The day after to-morrow, at eleven o'clock in the morning," put in +Mrs. Guy, in response to the last remark.</p> + +<p>All his attention given to Blanche, Charles Strange really had not +observed the old lady. He turned to regard her.</p> + +<p>"You cannot have forgotten Mrs. Guy, Charles," said Blanche, noticing +his doubtful look.</p> + +<p>"I believe I had for the moment," he answered, in those pleasant, +cordial tones that won him a way with everyone, as he<span class="pagenum">[147}</span> went up and +shook the old lady heartily by both hands. "I heard you were staying +here, Mrs. Guy, but I had forgotten it."</p> + +<p>They sat down—Blanche and Charles near the open window, Mrs. Guy not +moving from her low easy-chair on the hearthrug—and began to talk of +the wedding.</p> + +<p>"Tom is really coming up to give me away," said Blanche, showing him +Captain Heriot's short note. "It is <i>very</i> good of him, for he must be +very busy: but Tom was always good. You are aware, Charles, I suppose, +that the regiment is embarking for India? Major Carlen saw the +announcement this morning in the <i>Times</i>."</p> + +<p>At that moment Charles Strange saw, or fancied he saw, a warning look +telegraphed to him by Mrs. Guy: and, placing it in conjunction with +Blanche's words, he fancied he must know its meaning.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I heard the regiment was ordered out," he answered shortly; and +turned the subject. "Will Lord Level be here tonight, Blanche? I +should like to see him."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[148}</span></p> + +<p>"No," she replied. "He went yesterday to Marshdale House, his place in +Surrey, and will not return until to-morrow. I think you will like +him, Charles."</p> + +<p>"I hope you do," replied Charles involuntarily. "That is the chief +consideration, Blanche."</p> + +<p>He looked at her meaningly as he spoke, and it brought a blush to her +face. What a lovely face it was—fair and pure, its blue eyes haughty +as of yore, its golden hair brilliant and abundant! She wore a simple +evening dress of white muslin, and a blue sash, an inexpensive +necklace of twisted blue beads on her neck, no bracelets at all on her +arms. She looked what she really was—an inexperienced school-girl. +Lord Level's engagement ring on her finger, with its flashing +diamonds, was the only ornament of value she had about her.</p> + +<p>In the momentary silence that ensued, Blanche left her seat and went +to stand at the open window.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she exclaimed, an instant later, "I<span class="pagenum">[149}</span> do think this may be Tom! A +cab has stopped here."</p> + +<p>Charles Strange rose. Mrs. Guy lifted her finger, and he bent down to +her. Blanche was still at the window.</p> + +<p>"She does not know he has sold out," warningly breathed Mrs. Guy. "She +knows nothing of his wild ways, or the fine market he has brought his +eggs to, poor fellow. We have kept it from her."</p> + +<p>Charles nodded; and the servant opened the door with another +announcement.</p> + +<p>"Captain Heriot." Blanche flew across the room and was locked in her +brother's arms.</p> + +<p>Poor Tom Heriot had indeed, as Mrs. Guy expressed it, with more force +than elegance, brought his eggs to a fine market. It was some few +months now since he sold out of the Army; and what he was doing and +how he contrived to exist and flourish without money, his friends did +not know. During the spring he had made his appearance in Paris to +prefer an appeal for help to<span class="pagenum">[150}</span> Charles, and Charles had answered it to +the extent of his power.</p> + +<p>Just as gay, just as light-hearted, just as <i>débonnaire</i> as ever was +Tom Heriot. To see him and to hear him as he sat this evening with +them in Gloucester Place, you might have thought him as free from care +as an Eton boy—as flourishing as a duke-royal. Little blame to +Blanche that she suspected nothing of the existing state of things.</p> + +<p>When Charles rose to say "Good-night," Tom Heriot said it also, and +they went away together.</p> + +<p>"Charley, lad," said the latter, as the street-door closed behind +them, "could you put me up at your place for two nights—until after +this wedding is over?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure I can. Leah will manage it."</p> + +<p>"All right. I have sent a portmanteau there."</p> + +<p>"You did not come up from Southampton to-day, Tom? Blanche thought you +did."</p> + +<p>"And I am much obliged to them for<span class="pagenum">[151}</span> allowing her to think it. I would +have staked my last five-pound note, if you'll believe me, Charley, +that old Carlen had not as much good feeling in him. I am vegetating +in London; have been for some time, Blanche's letter was forwarded to +me by a comrade who lets me use his address."</p> + +<p>"And what are you doing in London?" asked Charles.</p> + +<p>"Hiding my 'diminished head,' old fellow," answered Tom, with a laugh. +No matter how serious the subject, he could not be serious over it.</p> + +<p>"How much longer do you mean to stand here?" continued Charles—for +the Captain (people still gave him his title) had not moved from the +door.</p> + +<p>"Till an empty cab goes by."</p> + +<p>"We don't want a cab this fine night, Tom. Let us walk. Look how +bright the moon is up there."</p> + +<p>"Ay; my lady's especially bright tonight. Rather too much so for +people who prefer the shade. How you stare,<span class="pagenum">[152}</span> Charley! Fact is, I feel +safer inside a cab just now than parading the open streets."</p> + +<p>"Afraid of being taken for debt?" whispered Charles.</p> + +<p>"Worse than that," said Tom laconically.</p> + +<p>"Worse than that!" repeated Charles. "Why, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," and Tom Heriot laughed again. "Except that I am in the +deuce's own mess, and can't easily get out of it. There's a cab! Here, +driver! In with you, Charley."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>And on the following Thursday, when his sister's marriage with Lord +Level took place, who so gay, who so free from care, who so attractive +as Tom Heriot?—when giving her away. Lord Level had never before seen +his future brother-in-law (or <i>half</i> brother-in-law, as the more +correct term would be), and was agreeably taken with him. A random +young fellow, no doubt, given to playing the mischief with his own +prospects, but a<span class="pagenum">[153}</span> thorough gentleman, and a very prepossessing one.</p> + +<p>"And this is my other brother—I have always called him so," whispered +Blanche to her newly-made husband, as she presented Charles Strange to +him on their return from church to Gloucester Place. Lord Level shook +hands heartily; and Charles, who had been prejudiced against his +lordship, of whom tales were told, took rather a liking to the tall, +fine man of commanding presence, of handsome face and easy, genial +manners.</p> + +<p>After the breakfast, to which very few guests were bidden, and at +which Mrs. Guy presided, as well as her nerves permitted, at one end +of the table and Major Carlen at the other, Lord and Lady Level +departed for Dover on their way to the Continent.</p> + +<p>And in less than a week after the wedding, poor Thomas Heriot, who +could not do an unkind action, who never had been anyone's enemy in +the whole world, and never would be anyone's, except his own, was +taken into custody on a criminal charge.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[154}</span></p> + +<p>The blow came upon Charles Strange as a clap of thunder. That Tom was +in a mess of some kind he knew well; nay, in half a dozen messes most +likely; but he never glanced at anything so terrible as this. Tom had +fenced with his questions during the day or two he stayed in Essex +Street, and laughed them off. What the precise charge was, Charles +could not learn at the first moment. Some people said felony, some +whispered forgery. By dint of much exertion and inquiry, he at last +knew that it was connected with "Bills."</p> + +<p>Certain bills had been put into circulation by Thomas Heriot, and +there was something wrong about them. At least, about one of them; +since it bore the signature of a man who had never seen the bill.</p> + +<p>"I am as innocent of it as a child unborn," protested Thomas Heriot to +Charles, more solemnly in earnest than he had ever been heard to +speak. "True, I got the bills discounted: accommodation bills, you +understand, and they were to have been provided<span class="pagenum">[155}</span> for; but that any +good name had been <i>forged</i> to one of them, I neither knew nor dreamt +of."</p> + +<p>"Yet you knew the good name was there?"</p> + +<p>"But I thought it had been genuinely obtained."</p> + +<p>This was at the first interview Charles held with him in prison. +"Whence did you get the bills?" Charles continued.</p> + +<p>"They were handed to me by Anstey. He is the true culprit in all this, +Charles, and he is slinking out of it, and will get off scot-free. +People warned me against the fellow; said he was making a cat's-paw of +me; and by Jove it's true! I could not see it then, but my eyes are +open now. He only made use of me for his own purposes. He had all, or +nearly all, the money."</p> + +<p>And this was just the truth of the business. The man Anstey, a +gentleman once, but living by his wits for many years past, had got +hold of light-headed, careless Tom Heriot, cajoled him of his +friendship, and<span class="pagenum">[156}</span> <i>used</i> him. Anstey escaped completely "scot-free," +and Tom suffered.</p> + +<p>Tom was guilty in the eyes of the law; and the law only takes +cognizance of its own hard requirements. After examination, he was +committed for trial. Charles Strange was nearly wild with distress; +Mr. Brightman was much concerned; Arthur Lake (who was now called to +the Bar) would have moved heaven and earth in the cause. Away went +Charles to Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar: and that renowned special pleader +and good-hearted man threw his best energies into the cause.</p> + +<p>All in vain. At the trial, which shortly came on at the Old Bailey, +Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar exerted his quiet but most telling eloquence +uselessly. He might as well have wasted it on the empty air. Though +indeed it did effect something, causing the sentence pronounced upon +the unfortunate prisoner to be more lenient than it otherwise would +have been. Thomas Heriot was sentenced to be transported for seven +years.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[157}</span></p> + +<p>Transportation beyond the seas was still in force then. And Thomas +Heriot, with a cargo of greater or lesser criminals, was shipped on +board the transport <i>Vengeance</i>, to be conveyed to Botany Bay.</p> + +<p>It seemed to have taken up such a little space of time! Very little, +compared with the greatness of the trouble. June had hardly come in +when Tom was first taken; and the <i>Vengeance</i> sailed the beginning of +August.</p> + +<p>If Mrs. Guy had lamented beforehand the market that poor Tom Heriot +had "brought his eggs to," what did she think of it now?</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>One evening in October a nondescript sort of vehicle, the German +makers of which could alone know the name, arrived at a small village +not far from the banks of the Rhine, clattering into the yard of the +only inn the place contained. A gentleman and lady descended from it, +and a parley ensued with the hostess, more protracted than it might +have been, in consequence of the<span class="pagenum">[158}</span> travellers' imperfect German, and +her own imperfect French. Could madame accommodate them for the night, +was the substance of their demand.</p> + +<p>"Well—yes," was madame's not very assured answer: "if they could put +up with a small bedroom."</p> + +<p>"How small?"</p> + +<p>She opened the door of—it was certainly not a room, though it might +be slightly larger than a boot-closet; madame called it a +cabinet-de-toilette. It was on the ground-floor, looking into the +yard, and contained a bed, into which one person might have crept, +provided he bargained with himself not to turn; but two people, never. +Three of her beds were taken up with a milor and miladi Anglais, and +their attendants.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ravensworth—a young wife—turned to her husband, and spoke in +English. "Arnold, what can we do? We cannot go on in the dark, with +such roads as these."</p> + +<p>"My love, I see only one thing for<span class="pagenum">[159}</span> it: you must sleep here, and I +must sit up."</p> + +<p>Madame interrupted; it appeared she added a small stock of English to +her other acquirements. "Oh, but dat meeseraable for monsieur: he +steef in legs for morning."</p> + +<p>"And stiff in arms too," laughed Arnold Ravensworth. "Do try and find +us a larger bedroom."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the miladi Anglaise might give up one of her rooms for dis +one," debated the hostess, bustling away to ask.</p> + +<p>She returned, followed by an unmistakable Englishwoman, fine both in +dress and speech. Was <i>she</i> the miladi? She talked enough for one: +vowing she would never give up her room to promiscuous travellers, who +prowled about with no <i>avant courier</i>, taking their own chance of +rooms and beds; and casting, as she spoke, annihilating glances at the +benighted wanderers.</p> + +<p>"Is anything the matter, Timms?" inquired a gentle voice in the +background.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth turned round quickly,<span class="pagenum">[160}</span> for its tones struck upon his +remembrance. There stood Blanche, Lady Level; and their hands +simultaneously met in surprise and pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Oh, this is unexpected!" she exclaimed. "I never should have thought +of seeing you in this remote place. Are you alone?"</p> + +<p>He drew his wife to his side. "I need not say who she is, Lady Level."</p> + +<p>"Are you married, then?"</p> + +<p>"Ask Mary."</p> + +<p>It was an unnecessary question, seeing her there with him, and Lady +Level felt it to be so, and smiled. Timms came forward with an +elaborate apology and a string of curtseys, and hoped her room would +be found good enough to be honoured by any friends of my lady's.</p> + +<p>Lady Level's delight at seeing them seemed as unrestrained as a +child's. Exiles from their native land can alone tell that to meet +with home faces in a remote spot is grateful as the long-denied water +to the traveller in the Eastern desert. And we<span class="pagenum">[161}</span> are writing of days +when to travel abroad was the exception, rather than the rule. "There +is only one private sitting-room in the whole house, and that is mine, +so you must perforce make it yours as well," cried Lady Level, as she +laughingly led the way to it. "And oh! what a charming break it will +be to my loneliness! Last night I cried till bedtime."</p> + +<p>"Is not Lord Level with you?" inquired Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"Lord Level is in England. While they are getting Timms' room ready, +will you come into mine?" she added to Mrs. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"How long have you been married?" was Lady Level's first question as +they entered it.</p> + +<p>"Only last Tuesday week."</p> + +<p>"Are you happy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes."</p> + +<p>"I knew your husband long before you did," added Lady Level. "Did he +ever tell you so? Did he ever tell you what<span class="pagenum">[162}</span> good friends we were? +Closer friends, I think, than he and his cousin Cecilia. He used to +come to White Littleham Rectory, and we girls there made much of him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has often told me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ravensworth was arranging her hair at the glass, and Lady Level +held the light for her and looked on. The description given of her by +Blanche to her father was a very good one. A pale, gentle girl, with +nice eyes, dark, inexpressively soft and attractive. "I shall like you +very much," suddenly exclaimed Lady Level. "I think you are very +pretty—I mean, you have the sort of face I like to look at." Praise +that brought a blush to the cheeks of Mrs. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>The landlady sent them in the best supper she could command at the +hour; mutton chops, served German fashion, and soup, which Lady +Level's man-servant, Sanders, who waited on them, persisted in calling +the potash—and very watery potash it was, flavoured with cabbage. +When the meal<span class="pagenum">[163}</span> was over, and the cloth removed, they drew round the +fire.</p> + +<p>"Do you ever see papa?" Lady Level inquired of Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"Now and then. Not often. He has let his house again in Gloucester +Place, and Mrs. Guy has gone back to the Channel Islands."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I know all that," replied Blanche.</p> + +<p>"The last time I saw Major Carlen he spoke of you—said that you and +Lord Level were making a protracted stay abroad."</p> + +<p>"Protracted!" Blanche returned bitterly; "yes, it is protracted. I +long to be back in England, with a longing that has now grown into a +disease. You have heard of the <i>mal du pays</i> that sometimes attacks +the Swiss when they are away from their native land; I think that same +malady has attacked me."</p> + +<p>"But why?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, looking at her.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know," she said, with some hesitation. "I had never been out +of<span class="pagenum">[164}</span> England before, and everything was strange to me. We went to +Switzerland first, then on to Italy, then back again. The longer we +stayed away from England, the greater grew my yearning for it. In +Savoy I was ill; yes, I was indeed; we were at Chambéry; so ill as to +require medical advice. It was on the mind, the doctor said. He was a +nice old man, and told Lord Level that I was pining for my native +country."</p> + +<p>"Then, of course, you left for home at once?"</p> + +<p>"We left soon, but we travelled like snails; halting days at one +place, and days at another. Oh, I was so sick of it! And the places +were all dull and retired, as this is; not those usually frequented by +the English. At last we arrived here; to stay also, it appeared. When +I asked why we did not go on, he said he was waiting for letters from +home."</p> + +<p>As Lady Level spoke she appeared to be lost in the past—an expression +that you<span class="pagenum">[165}</span> may have observed in old people when they are telling you +tales of their youth. Her eyes were fixed on vacancy, and it was +evident that she saw nothing of the objects around her, only the time +gone by. She appeared to be anything but happy.</p> + +<p>"Something up between my lord and my lady," thought Mr. Ravensworth. +"Had your husband to wait long for the expected letters?" he asked +aloud.</p> + +<p>"I do not know: several came for him. One morning he had one that +summoned him to England without the loss of a moment, and he said +there was not time for me to be ready to accompany him. I prayed to go +with him. I said Timms could come on afterwards with the luggage. It +was of no use."</p> + +<p>"Would he not take you?" exclaimed Mrs. Ravensworth, her eyes full of +the astonishment her lips would not express.</p> + +<p>Blanche shook her head. "No. He was quite angry with me; said I did +not understand my position—that noblemen's<span class="pagenum">[166}</span> wives could not travel in +that unceremonious manner. I was on the point of telling him that I +wished, to my heart, I had never been a nobleman's wife. Why did he +marry me, unless he could look upon me as a companion and friend?" +abruptly continued Lady Level, perhaps forgetting that she was not +alone. "He treats me as a child."</p> + +<p>What answer could be made to this?</p> + +<p>"When do you expect him back again?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, after a +pause.</p> + +<p>"How do I know?" flashed Lady Level, her tone proving how +inexpressibly sore was the subject. "He said he should return for me +in a few days, but nearly three weeks have gone by, and I am still +here. They have seemed to me like three months. I shall be ill if it +goes on much longer."</p> + +<p>"Of course you hear from him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I hear from him. A few lines at a time, saying he will come +for me as soon as he possibly can, and that I must not be impatient. I +wanted to go over alone, and<span class="pagenum">[167}</span> he returned me such an answer, asking +what I meant by wishing to travel with servants only at my age. I +shall do something desperate if I am left here another week."</p> + +<p>"As you once did at White Littleham when they forbade your going to a +concert, thinking you were too ill!" laughed Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"Dressed myself up in my best frock, and surprised them in the room. I +had ten pages of Italian translation for that escapade."</p> + +<p>"Do you like Italy?" he inquired, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"No, I hate it!" And the animus in Lady Level's answer was so intense +that the husband and wife exchanged stolen glances. <i>Something</i> must +be out of gear.</p> + +<p>"What parts of Italy did you stay in?"</p> + +<p>"Chiefly at Pisa—that is not far from Florence, you know; and a few +days at Florence. Lord Level took a villa at Pisa for a month—and why +he did so I could not tell, for it was not the season when the<span class="pagenum">[168}</span> +English frequent it: no one, so to say, was there. We made the +acquaintance of a Mrs. Page Reid, who had the next villa to ours."</p> + +<p>"That was pleasant for you—if you liked her."</p> + +<p>"But I did not like her," returned Lady Level, her delicate cheeks +flushing. "That is, I did and I did not. She was a very pleasant +woman, always ready to help us in any way; but she told dreadful tales +of people—making one suspect things that otherwise would never have +entered the imagination. Lord Level liked her at first, and ended by +disliking her."</p> + +<p>"Got up a flirtation with her," thought Mr. Ravensworth. But in that +he was mistaken. And so they talked on.</p> + +<p>It appeared that the mail passed through the village at night time; +and the following morning a letter lay on the breakfast-table for Lady +Level.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My Dear Blanche</span>,—I have met with a slight accident, and must +again postpone<span class="pagenum">[169}</span> coming to you for a few days. I dare say it +will not detain me very long. Rely upon it I shall be with you +as soon as I possibly can be.—Ever affectionately yours, +<span class="smcap">Level</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Short and sweet!" exclaimed Blanche, in her bitter disappointment, as +she read the note at the window. "Arnold, when you and your wife leave +to-morrow, what will become of me, alone here? If——"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as Lady Level spoke the last word, she started, and began to +creep away from the window, as if fearing to be seen.</p> + +<p>"Arnold! Arnold! who do you think is out there?" she exclaimed in a +timid whisper.</p> + +<p>"Why, who?" in astonishment. "Not Lord Level?"</p> + +<p>"It is Captain Cross," she said with a shiver. "I would rather meet +the whole world than him. My behaviour to him was—was not right; and +I have felt ashamed of myself ever since."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth looked out from the<span class="pagenum">[170}</span> window. Captain Cross, seated on +the bench in the inn yard, was solacing himself with a cigar.</p> + +<p>"I would not meet him for the world! I would not let him see me: he +might make a scene. I shall stay in my rooms all day. Why does my +husband leave me to such chances as these?"</p> + +<p>That Captain Cross had not been well used was certain; but the fault +lay with Major Carlen, not with Blanche. Mr. Ravensworth spoke.</p> + +<p>"Take my advice, Lady Level. Do not place yourself in Captain Cross's +way, but do not run from him. I believe him to be a gentleman; and, if +so, he will not say or do anything to annoy you. I will take care he +does not, as long as I remain here."</p> + +<p>In the course of the morning Captain Cross and Arnold Ravensworth met. +"I find Lady Level's here!" the Captain abruptly exclaimed. "Are you +staying with her?"</p> + +<p>"I and my wife arrived here only last<span class="pagenum">[171}</span> night, and were surprised to +meet Lady Level."</p> + +<p>"Where's <i>he</i>?" asked Captain Cross.</p> + +<p>"In England."</p> + +<p>"He in England and she here, and only six months married! Estranged, I +suppose. Well, what else could she expect? People mostly reap what +they sow."</p> + +<p>Arnold Ravensworth laughed good-humouredly. <i>He</i> was not going to give +a hint of the state of affairs that he suspected himself.</p> + +<p>"You are prejudiced, Cross. Miss Heriot was not to blame for what +happened. She was a child: and they did with her as they pleased."</p> + +<p>"A child! Old enough to engage herself to one man, and to marry +another," retorted Captain Cross, in a burst of angry feeling. "And +Level, of all people!"—with sarcastic scorn. "Why does he leave her +in Germany whilst he stays gallivanting in England? What do you say? +Met with an accident, and <i>can't</i> come for her?<span class="pagenum">[172}</span> That's <i>his</i> tale, I +suppose. You may repeat it to the Marines, old boy; it won't do for +me. <i>I</i> know Level; knew him of old."</p> + +<p>Lady Level was as good as her word: she did not stir out of her rooms +all day. On the following morning when Mr. Ravensworth came out of his +chamber, he saw, from the corridor window, a travelling-carriage in +the yard, packed. By the coat-of-arms he knew it for Lord Level's. +Timms moved towards him in a flutter of delight.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you please, sir, breakfast is on the table, and my lady is +waiting there, ready dressed. We are going to England, sir."</p> + +<p>"Has Lord Level come?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir: we are going with you. My lady gave orders, last night, to +pack up for home. It is the happiest day I've known, sir, since I set +foot in these barbarious countries."</p> + +<p>Lady Level met him at the door of the breakfast-room; "ready dressed," +as Timms<span class="pagenum">[173}</span> expressed it, for travelling, even to her bonnet.</p> + +<p>"Do you really mean to go with us?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," was her decisive reply. "That is, you must go with me. Stay +here longer, I will not. I tell you, Arnold, I am sick to death of it. +If Lord Level is ill and unable to come for me, I am glad to embrace +the opportunity of travelling under your protection: he can't grumble +at that. Besides——"</p> + +<p>"Besides what?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, for she suddenly stopped.</p> + +<p>"I do not choose to remain at an inn in which Captain Cross has taken +up his abode: neither would my husband wish me to do so. After you and +Mrs. Ravensworth left me last night, I sat over the wood fire, +thinking these things over, and made my mind up. If I have not +sufficient money for the journey, and I don't think I have, I must +apply to you, Arnold."</p> + +<p>Whether Mr. Ravensworth approved or<span class="pagenum">[174}</span> disapproved of the decision, he +had no power to alter it. Or, rather, whether Lord Level would approve +of it. After a hasty breakfast, they went down to the carriage, which +had already its array of five horses harnessed to it; Sanders and +Timms perched side-by-side in their seat aloft. The two ladies were +helped in by Mr. Ravensworth. Captain Cross leaned against the outer +wall of the <i>salle-à-manger</i>, watching the departure. He approached +Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"Am I driving her ladyship off?"</p> + +<p>"Lady Level is going to England with us, to join her husband. I told +you he had met with an accident."</p> + +<p>"A merry meeting to them!" was the sarcastic rejoinder. And, as the +carriage drove out of the inn-yard, Captain Cross deliberately lifted +his hat to Lady Level: but lifted it, she thought, in mockery.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[175}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i014a.jpg" width="400" height="109" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE VINE-COVERED COTTAGE AT PISA.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-t.jpg" width="81" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">T</span>HAT</b> Archibald, Lord Level, had been a gay man, fond of pleasure, fond +of talking nonsense to pretty women, the world knew well: and perhaps, +world-fashion, admired him none the less for it. But his wife did not +know it. When Blanche Heriot became Blanche Level she was little more +than an innocent child, entirely unversed in the world's false ways. +She esteemed her husband; ay, and loved him, in a measure, and she was +happy for a time.</p> + +<p>It is true that while they were staying in Switzerland a longing for +home came over<span class="pagenum">[176}</span> her. They had halted in Paris for nearly a fortnight +on their outward route. Some very nice people whom Lord Level knew +were there; they were delighted with the fair young bride, and she was +delighted with them. Blanche was taken about everywhere, no one being +more anxious for her amusement than Lord Level himself. But one +morning, in the very midst of numerous projected expeditions, he +suddenly told Blanche that they must continue their journey that day.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Archibald!" she had answered in a sort of dismay. "Why, it is +this very afternoon that we were going to Fontainebleau!"</p> + +<p>"My dear, you shall see Fontainebleau the next time we are in Paris," +he said. "I have a reason for wishing to go on at once."</p> + +<p>And they went on. Blanche was far too good and dutiful a wife to +oppose her own will to her husband's, or to grumble. They went +straight on to Switzerland—travelling in their own carriage—but +instead of settling<span class="pagenum">[177}</span> himself in one of those pretty dwellings on the +banks of Geneva's lake, as he had talked of to Blanche, Lord Level +avoided Geneva altogether, and chose a fearfully dull little village +as their place of abode. Very lovely as to scenery, it is true; but +quite unfrequented by travellers. It was there that Blanche first +began to long for home.</p> + +<p>Next, they went on to Italy, posting straight to Pisa, and there Lord +Level took a pretty villa for a month in the suburbs of the town. Pisa +itself was deserted: it was hot weather; and Blanche did not think it +had many attractions. Lord Level, however, seemed to find pleasure in +it. He knew Pisa well, having stayed at it in days gone by. He made +Blanche familiar with the neighbourhood; together they admired and +wondered at the Leaning Tower, in its green plain, backed by distant +mountains; but he also went out and about a good deal alone.</p> + +<p>One English dame of fashion was sojourning<span class="pagenum">[178}</span> in the place—a widow, +Mrs. Page Reid. She occupied the next villa to theirs, and called upon +them; and she and Lady Level grew tolerably intimate. She was a +talkative, gay woman of thirty—and beside her Blanche seemed like a +timid schoolgirl.</p> + +<p>One evening, when dinner was over, Lord Level strolled out—as he +often did—leaving his wife with Mrs. Page Reid, who had dined with +them. The two ladies talked together, and sang a song or two; and so +whiled away the time.</p> + +<p>"Let us go out for a stroll, too!" exclaimed Mrs. Page Reid, speaking +on a momentary impulse, when she found the time growing monotonous.</p> + +<p>Blanche readily agreed. It was a most lovely night; the moon bright +and silvery in the Italian sky. Putting on some fleecy shawls, the +ladies went down the solitary road, and turned by-and-by into a narrow +lane that looked like a grove of evergreens. Soon they came to a +pretty dwelling-place on the left, half villa, half cottage. Vines<span class="pagenum">[179}</span> +grew up its trellised walls, flowers and shrubs crowded around it.</p> + +<p>"A charming little spot!" cried Mrs. Page Reid, as they halted to peep +through the hedge of myrtles that clustered on each side the low +entrance-gate. "And two people are sitting there—lovers, I dare say," +she added, "telling their vows under the moonbeams."</p> + +<p>In front of the vine-wreathed window, on a bench overhung by the +branches of the trailing shrubs, the laurels and the myrtles, sat two +young people. The girl was tall, slender, graceful; her dark eyes had +a flashing fire even in the moonlight; her cheeks wore a rose-red +flush.</p> + +<p>"How pretty she is!" whispered Blanche. "Look at her long gold +earrings! And he—— Oh!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" cried Mrs. Page Reid, the tone of the last word +startling her.</p> + +<p>"It is my husband."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" began Mrs. Page Reid.<span class="pagenum">[180}</span> But after one doubting, +disbelieving look, she saw that it was so. Catching Blanche's hand, +she drew her forcibly away, and when they had gained the highroad, +burst into a long, low laugh.</p> + +<p>"Don't think about it, dear," she said to Blanche. "It's nothing. The +best of husbands like to amuse themselves behind our backs."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he was—was—inquiring the way—or something," hazarded +Blanche, whose breath was coming rather faster than usual.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Page Reid nearly choked. "Oh, to be sure!" she cried, when she +could speak.</p> + +<p>"You don't think so? You think it was—something else?"</p> + +<p>"You are only a little goose, my dear, in the ways of the world," +rejoined Mrs. Page Reid. "Where's the man that does not like to talk +with a pretty woman? Lord Level, of all others, does."</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> does?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[181}</span></p> + +<p>"Well, he used to do so. Of course he has mended his manners. And the +women, mind you, liked to talk to him. But don't take up the notion, +please, that by saying that I insinuate any unorthodox talking," added +Mrs. Page Reid as an after-thought, when she caught a look at Lady +Level's tell-tale countenance.</p> + +<p>"I shall ask Lord Level——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Ask nothing</i>," impressively spoke the elder lady, cutting short the +words. "Say nothing to your husband. Take my advice, Lady Level, for +it is good. There is no mortal sin a wife can commit so repugnant in +her husband's eyes as that of spying upon his actions. It would make +him detest her in the end."</p> + +<p>"But I was not spying. We saw it by accident."</p> + +<p>"All the same. Let it pass from your mind as though it had never +been."</p> + +<p>Blanche was dubious. <i>If</i> there was no harm, why should she not speak +of it?—and she could not think there was harm.<span class="pagenum">[182}</span> And if there +<i>was</i>—why, she would not have breathed it to him for the world. +Dismissing the subject, she and Mrs. Page Reid sat down to a quiet +game at cards. When Lord Level came in, their visitor said good-night.</p> + +<p>Blanche sat on in silence and torment. Should she speak, or should she +not? Lord Level seemed buried in a reverie.</p> + +<p>"Archibald," she presently began.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, rousing himself.</p> + +<p>"I—we—I and Mrs. Page Reid went out for a little walk in the +moonlight. And——"</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"We saw you," Blanche was wishing to say; but somehow her courage +failed her. Her breath was short, her throat was beating.</p> + +<p>"And it was very pleasant," she went on. "As warm and light as day."</p> + +<p>"Just so," said Lord Level. "But the night air is treacherous, apt to +bring fever. Do not go out again in it, love."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[183}</span></p> + +<p>So her effort to speak had failed. And the silence only caused her to +think the more. Blanche Level would have given her best diamond +earrings to know who that person was in the gold ones.</p> + +<p>An evening or two further on, when she was quite alone, Lord Level +having again strolled out, she threw on the same fleecy shawl and +betook herself down the road to the cottage in the grove—the cottage +that looked like a pretty bower in the evergreens. And—yes——</p> + +<p>Well, it was a strange thing—a startling thing; startling, anyway, to +poor Blanche Level's heart; but there, on the self-same bench, side by +side, sat Lord Level and the Italian girl. Her face looked more +beautiful than before to the young wife's jealous eyes; the gold +earrings glittered and sparkled in the moonlight. He and she were +conversing in a low, earnest voice, and Lord Level was smoking a +cigar.</p> + +<p>Blanche stood rooted to the spot, shivering a little as she peered +through the myrtle<span class="pagenum">[184}</span> hedge, but never moving. Presently the young woman +lifted her head, called out "Si," and went indoors, evidently in +answer to a summons.</p> + +<p>"Nina," sang out Lord Level. "Nina"—raising his voice higher—"I have +left my cigar-case on the table; bring it to me when you come out +again."</p> + +<p>He spoke in English. The next minute the girl returned, cigar-case in +hand. She took her place by his side, as before, and they fell to +talking again.</p> + +<p>Lady Level drew away. She went home with flagging steps and a bitterly +rebellious heart.</p> + +<p>Not to her husband would she speak; her haughty lips were sealed to +him—and should be ever, she resolved in her new pain. But she gave a +hint the next day of what she had again seen to Mrs. Page Reid.</p> + +<p>That lady only laughed. To her mind it was altogether a rich joke. Not +only the affair itself, but Blanche's ideas upon it.</p> + +<p>"My dear Lady Level," she rejoined, "as<span class="pagenum">[185}</span> I said before, you are very +ignorant of the ways of the world. I assure you our husbands like to +chatter to others as well as to us. Nothing wrong, of course, you +understand; the mistake is, if we so misconstrue it. Lord Level is a +very attractive man, you know, and has had all sorts of escapades."</p> + +<p>"I never knew that he had had them."</p> + +<p>"Well, it is hardly likely he would tell you of them before you were +his wife. He will tell you fast enough some day."</p> + +<p>"Won't you tell me some of them now?"</p> + +<p>Blanche was speaking very equably, as if worldly wisdom had come to +her all at once; and Mrs. Page Reid began to ransack her memory for +this, that, or the other that she might have heard of Lord Level. As +tales of scandal never lose by carrying, she probably converted +mole-hills into mountains; most assuredly so to Blanche's mind. +Anyway, she had better have held her tongue.</p> + +<p>From that time, what with one doubt and another, Lady Level's regard +for her<span class="pagenum">[186}</span> lord was changed. Her feeling towards him became most bitter. +Resentment?—indignation?—neither is an adequate word for it.</p> + +<p>At the week's end they left Pisa, for the month was up, and travelled +back by easy stages to Savoy. Blanche wanted to go direct to England, +but Lord Level objected: he said she had not yet seen enough of +Switzerland. It was in Savoy that her illness came on—the mal du +pays, as they called it. When she grew better, they started towards +home; travelling slowly and halting at every available spot. That his +wife's manner had changed to him, Lord Level could only perceive, but +he had no suspicion of its cause. He put it down to her anger at his +keeping her so long away from England.</p> + +<p>The morning after they arrived at the inn in Germany (of which mention +has been made) Lord Level received a letter, which seemed to disturb +him. It was forwarded to him by a banker in Paris, to whom at present +all his letters were addressed. Telling<span class="pagenum">[187}</span> Blanche that it contained +news of some matter of business upon which he must start for London +without delay, he departed; declining to listen to her prayer that she +might accompany him, but promising to return for her shortly. It was +at that inn that Arnold Ravensworth and his wife found Lady Level: and +it was with them she journeyed to England.</p> + +<p>And here we must give a few words to Lord Level himself. He crossed +the Channel by the night mail to Dover, and reached London soon after +daybreak. In the course of the day he called at his bankers', Messrs. +Coutts and Co., to inquire for letters: orders having now been given +by him to Paris to forward them to London. One only awaited him, which +had only just then come in.</p> + +<p>As Lord Level read it, he gave utterance to a word of vexation. For it +told him that the matter of business upon which he had hurried over +was put off for a week: and he found that he might just as well have +remained in Germany.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[188}</span></p> + +<p>The first thought that crossed his mind was—should he return to his +wife? But it was hardly worth while doing so. So he took rooms in +Holles Street, at a comfortable house where he had lodged before, and +looked up friends and acquaintances at his club. But he did not let +that first day pass without calling on Charles Strange.</p> + +<p>The afternoon was drawing to an end in Essex Street, and Charles was +in his own private room, all his faculties given to a deed, when Lord +Level was shown in. It was for Charles he asked, not for Mr. +Brightman.</p> + +<p>"What an awful business this is!" began his lordship, when greetings +had passed.</p> + +<p>Charles lifted his hands in dismay. No need to ask to whom the remark +applied: or to mention poor Tom Heriot by name.</p> + +<p>"Could <i>nothing</i> be done, Mr. Strange?" demanded the peer in his +coldest and haughtiest tones. "Were there <i>no</i> means that could have +been taken to avert exposure?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think there might have been,<span class="pagenum">[189}</span> but for Tom's own careless +folly: and that's the most galling part of it," returned Charles. "Had +he only made a confidant of me beforehand, we should have had a try +for it. If I could not have found the money myself, Mr. Brightman +would have done so."</p> + +<p>"You need only have applied to me," said Lord Level. "I should not +have cared how much I paid—to prevent exposure."</p> + +<p>"But in his carelessness, you see, he never applied to anyone; he +allowed the blow to fall upon him, and then it was too late——"</p> + +<p>"Was he a fool?" interjected Lord Level.</p> + +<p>"There is this excuse for his not speaking: he did not know that +things were so bad, or that the people would proceed to extremities."</p> + +<p>The peer drew in his haughty lips. "Did he tell you that pretty +fable?"</p> + +<p>"Believe this much, Lord Level: what Tom <i>said</i>, he <i>thought</i>. Anyone +more reprehensibly light and heedless I do not know, but he is +incapable of falsehood. And in saying that he did not expect so grave +a<span class="pagenum">[190}</span> charge, or believe there were any grounds on which it could be +made, I am sure he spoke only the truth. He was drawn in by one +Anstey, and——"</p> + +<p>"I read the reports of the trial," interrupted Lord Level. "Do not be +at the pain of going over the details again."</p> + +<p>"Well, the true culprit was Anstey; there's no doubt of that. But, +like most cunning rogues, he was able to escape consequences himself, +and throw them upon Tom. I am sure, Lord Level, that Tom Heriot no +more knew the bill was forged than I knew it. He knew well enough +there was something shady about it; about that and others which had +been previously in circulation, and had been met when they came to +maturity. This one bill was different. Of course there's all the +difference between shady bills of accommodation, and a bill that has a +responsible man's name to it, which he never signed himself."</p> + +<p>"But what on earth possessed Heriot to allow himself to be drawn into +such toils?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[191}</span></p> + +<p>"Ah, there it is. His carelessness. He has been reprehensibly careless +all his life. And now he has paid for it. All's over."</p> + +<p>"He is already on his passage out in the convict ship <i>Vengeance</i>, is +he not?" said Lord Level, with suppressed rage.</p> + +<p>"Yes: ever since early in August," shuddered Charles. "How does +Blanche bear it?"</p> + +<p>"Blanche does not know it."</p> + +<p>"Not know it!"</p> + +<p>"No. As yet I have managed to keep it from her. I dread its reaching +her, and that's the truth. It is a fearful disgrace. She is fond of +him, and would feel it keenly."</p> + +<p>"But I cannot understand how it can have been kept from her."</p> + +<p>"Well, it has been. Why, she does not even know that he sold out! She +thinks he embarked with the regiment for India last May! We had been +in Paris about ten days—after our marriage, you know—when one +morning, happening to take up the <i>Times</i>, I saw in it the account of +his apprehension and first examination. They<span class="pagenum">[192}</span> had his name in as large +as life—Thomas Heriot. 'Some gross calumny,' I thought; 'Blanche must +not hear of this:' and I gave orders for continuing our journey that +same day. However, I soon found that it was not a calumny: other +examinations took place, and he was committed for trial. I kept my +wife away from all places likely to be frequented by the English, lest +a word should be dropped to her: and as yet, as I tell you, she knows +nothing of it. She is very angry with me in her heart, I can see, for +taking her to secluded places, and for keeping her away from England +so long, but this has been my sole motive. I want the thought of it to +die out of people's minds before I bring her home."</p> + +<p>"She is not with you, then?"</p> + +<p>"She is in Germany. I had to hasten over here upon a matter of +business, and shall return for her when it is finished. I have taken +my old rooms in Holles Street for a week. You must look me up there."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Charles.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[193}</span></p> + +<p>Mr. Brightman came in then, and the trouble was gone over again. Lord +Level felt it keenly; there could be no doubt of that. He inquired of +the older and more experienced lawyer whether there was any chance of +bringing Anstey to a reckoning, so that he might be punished; and as +to any expense, great or small, that might be incurred in the process, +his lordship added, he would give carte blanche for that with greater +delight than he had given money for anything in his whole life.</p> + +<p>Charles could not help liking him. With all his pride and his imputed +faults, few people could help liking Lord Level.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, as may have been gathered in the last chapter, Lord Level +was detained in England longer than he had thought for. Lady Level +grew impatient and more impatient at the delay: and then, taking the +reins into her own hands, she crossed the Channel with Mr. and Mrs. +Arnold Ravensworth.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[194}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i015a.jpg" width="400" height="110" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">COMPLICATIONS.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-c.jpg" width="80" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">C</span>ROSSING</b> by the night boat from Calais, the travellers reached Dover +at a very early hours of the morning. Lady Level, with her servants, +proceeded at once to London; but Mrs. Ravensworth, who had been +exceedingly ill on the passage, required some repose, and she and her +husband waited for a later train.</p> + +<p>"Make use of our house, Lady Level," said Mr. Ravensworth—speaking of +his new abode in Portland Place. "The servants are expecting me and +their mistress, and will have all things in readiness, and make you +comfortable."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[195}</span></p> + +<p>"Thank you all the same, Arnold," said Lady Level; "but I shall drive +straight to my husband's rooms in Holles Street."</p> + +<p>"I would not—if I were you," he dissented. "You are not expected, and +may not find anything ready in lodgings, so early in the morning. +Drive first to my house and have some breakfast. You can go on to +Holles Street afterwards."</p> + +<p>Sensible advice. And Lady Level took it.</p> + +<p>In the evening of that same day, Arnold Ravensworth and his wife +reached Portland Place from the London terminus. To Mr. Ravensworth's +surprise, who should be swinging from the door as the cab stopped but +Major Carlen in his favourite purple and scarlet cloak, his gray hair +disordered and his eyes exceeding fierce.</p> + +<p>"Here's a pretty kettle-of-fish!" cried he, scarcely giving Arnold +time to hand out his wife, and following him into the hall. "<i>You</i> +have done a nice thing!"</p> + +<p>"What is amiss?" asked Mr. Ravensworth,<span class="pagenum">[196}</span> as he took the Major into a +sitting-room.</p> + +<p>"Amiss!" returned the excited Major. "I would advise you not to fall +into Level's way just now. How the mischief came you to bring Blanche +over?"</p> + +<p>"We accompanied Lady Level to England at her request: I took no part +in influencing her decision. Lady Level is her own mistress."</p> + +<p>"Is she, though! She'll find she's not, if she begins to act in +opposition to her husband. Before she was married, she had not a wish +of her own, let alone a will—and there's where Level was caught, I +fancy," added the Major, in a parenthesis, nodding his head knowingly. +"He thought he had picked up a docile child, who would never be in his +way. What with that and her beauty—anyway, he could not think she +would be setting up a will, and an obstinate one, as she's doing now, +rely upon that."</p> + +<p>Major Carlen was striding from one end of the room to the other, his +cloak catching<span class="pagenum">[197}</span> in the furniture as he swayed about. Arnold thought he +had been drinking: but he was a man who could take a great deal, and +show it very little.</p> + +<p>"The case is this," said he, unfastening the troublesome cloak, and +flinging it on to a chair. "Level has been in England a week or two; +amusing himself, I take it. He didn't want his wife, I suppose; well +and good: men like a little society, and as long as they keep their +wives in the dark, there's no reason why they shouldn't have it——"</p> + +<p>"Major Carlen!" burst forth Mr. Ravensworth. "Lord Level's wife is +your daughter. Have you forgotten it?"</p> + +<p>"My step-daughter. What if she is? Does that render her different from +others? Are you going to climb a pole and cry Morality? You are a +young married man, Arnold Ravensworth, and must be on your good +behaviour just now; it's etiquette."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth was not easily excited, but the red flush of anger +darkened his<span class="pagenum">[198}</span> cheek. He could have thrust the old rascal from the +house.</p> + +<p>"Level leaves his wife in France, and tells her to remain there. +Germany? Well, say Germany, then. My lady chooses to disobey, and +comes to England, under your wing: and I wish old Harry had driven you +to any place rather than the one she was stopping at. She reaches town +to-day, and drives to Lord Level's rooms in Holles Street, whence he +had dated his letters to her—and a model of incaution he was for +doing it; why couldn't he have dated from his club? My lady finds or +hears of something there she does not like. Well, what could she +expect? They were his rooms; taken for himself, not for her; and if +she had not been a greater simpleton than ever broke loose from +keeping, she would have come away, then and there. Not she. She must +persist in putting questions as to this and that; so at last she +learned the truth, I suppose, or something near it. Then she thought +it time to leave the house and come<span class="pagenum">[199}</span> to mine: which is what she ought +to have done at first: and there she has been waiting until now to see +me, for I have been out all day."</p> + +<p>"I thought your house was let?"</p> + +<p>"It was let for the season; the people have left it now. I came home +only yesterday from Jersey. My sister is lying ill there."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask, Major Carlen, how you know that Lord Level has been +'amusing himself' if you have not been here to see?" questioned Mr. +Ravensworth sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"How do I know it?—why, common sense tells me," stormed the Major. "I +have not heard a word about Level, except what Blanche says."</p> + +<p>"Is he in Holles Street?"</p> + +<p>"Not now. He gave up the rooms a week ago, and went down to Marshdale, +his place in Surrey. He is laid up there, having managed to jam his +knee against a gatepost; his horse swerved in going through it. A man +I met to day, a friend of Level's,<span class="pagenum">[200}</span> told me so. To go back to Blanche. +She opened out an indignant tale to me, when I got home just now and +found her there, of what she had heard in Holles Street. 'Serve you +right, my dear,' I said to her: 'a wife has no business to be looking +at her husband through a telescope. If a man chose to fill his rooms +with wild tigers, it would not be his wife's province to complain, +provided he kept her out of reach of their claws.' 'But what am I to +do?' cried Blanche. 'You must return to France, or wherever else you +came from,' I answered. 'That I never will: I shall go down to +Marshdale, to Lord Level,' asserted Blanche, looking as I had never +seen her look before. 'You can't go there,' I said: 'you must not +attempt it.' 'I tell you, papa, I will go,' she cried, her eyes +flashing. I never knew she had so much passion in her, Ravensworth: +Level must have changed her nature. 'I will have an explanation from +Lord Level,' she continued. 'Rather than live on as I am living now, I +will demand a separation.'—Now,<span class="pagenum">[201}</span> did you put that into her head?" +broke off the Major, looking at Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"I do not think you know what you are saying, Major Carlen. Should I +be likely to advise Lady Level to separate from her husband?"</p> + +<p>"Someone has; such an idea would never enter Blanche's head unless put +there. 'You must lend me the means to go down,' she went on. 'I am +quite without money, through paying the bill at the hotel: Mr. +Ravensworth had partly to supply my travelling expenses.' 'Then more +fool Ravensworth for doing it,' said I; and more fool you were," +repeated the Major.</p> + +<p>"Anything more, Major?"</p> + +<p>"The idea of my lending her money to take her down to Marshdale! And +she'd be cunning to get money from me, just now, for I am out at all +pockets. The last supplies I had came from Level; I wrote to him when +he was abroad. By Jove! I would not cross him now for the universe."</p> + +<p>"The selfish old sinner!" thought Mr. Ravensworth—and nearly said so +aloud.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[202}</span></p> + +<p>"Let me finish; she'll be here in a minute; she said she should come +and apply to you. 'Does your husband beat you, or ill-treat you?' I +asked her. 'No,' said she, shaking her head in a proud fury; 'even I +would not submit to that. Will you lend me some money, papa?' she +asked again. 'No, I won't,' I said. 'Then I'll borrow it from Mr. +Ravensworth,' she cried, and ran upstairs to put her bonnet on. So +then I thought it was time to come too, and explain. Mind you don't +supply her with any, Ravensworth."</p> + +<p>"What pretext can I have for refusing?"</p> + +<p>"Pretext be shot!" irritably returned the Major. "Tell her you won't, +as I do. I forbid you to lend her any. There she is! What a passionate +knock! Been blundering up wrong turnings, I dare say."</p> + +<p>Lady Level came in, looking tired, heated, frightened. Mr. Ravensworth +took her hand.</p> + +<p>"You have been walking here!" he said. "It is not right that Lady +Level should<span class="pagenum">[203}</span> be abroad in London streets at night, and alone."</p> + +<p>"What else am I to do without money?" she returned hysterically.</p> + +<p>"I sent the servants and the luggage to an hotel this morning, and +gave them the few shillings I had left."</p> + +<p>"Do sit down and calm yourself. All this is truly distressing."</p> + +<p>Calm herself! The emotion, so long pent up, broke forth into sobs. +"Yes, it is distressing. I come to England and I find no home; I am +driven about from pillar to post, insulted everywhere; I have to walk +through the streets, like any poor, helpless girl. Is it right that it +should be so?"</p> + +<p>"You have brought it all upon yourself, my lady," cried Major Carlen, +coming forward from a dark corner.</p> + +<p>She turned with a start. "So you are here, papa! Then I hope you have +entered into sufficient explanation to spare it to me."</p> + +<p>"I have told Ravensworth of your fine exploit, in going to Lord +Level's rooms:<span class="pagenum">[204}</span> and he agrees with me that no one except an +inexperienced child would have done it."</p> + +<p>"The truth, if you please, Major Carlen," struck in Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"And that what you heard or met with—though as to what it was I'm +sure I'm all in a fog about—served you right for going," continued +the unabashed Major.</p> + +<p>Lady Level threw back her head, the haughty crimson dyeing her cheeks. +"I went there expecting to find my husband; was that an inexperienced +or a childish action?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was," roared the Major, completely losing his temper, and +showing his fierce teeth. "When men are away from their wives, they +fall back into bachelor habits. If they please to turn their sanctums +into smoking dens, or boxing dens, or what not, are you to come +hunting them up, as I say, with a spyglass that magnifies at both +ends?"</p> + +<p>"Good men have no need to keep their wives away from them."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[205}</span></p> + +<p>The Major gave his nose a twist. "Good men?—bad men?—where's the +difference? The good have their wives under their thumb, and the bad +haven't, that's all."</p> + +<p>"For shame, papa!"</p> + +<p>"Tie Lord Level to your apron-string, and keep him there as long as +you can," fired the Major; "but don't ferret him up when he is out for +a holiday."</p> + +<p>"Did I want to ferret up Lord Level?" she retorted. "I went there +because I thought it was his temporary home and would be mine. Why did +he date his letters thence?"</p> + +<p>"There it all lies," cried the Major, changing his tone to one of +wrath against the peer. "Better he had dated from the top of the +Monument. It is surprising what mistakes men make sometimes. But how +was he to think you would come over against his expressed will? You +say he had bade you stop there until he could fetch you."</p> + +<p>Lady Level would not reply: the respect<span class="pagenum">[206}</span> due to Major Carlen as her +step-father was not in the ascendant just then. Turning to Mr. +Ravensworth, she requested the loan of sufficient funds to take her +down to Marshdale.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Blanche, you must not go there," interrupted the Major. +"Better not. Lord Level does not receive strangers at Marshdale."</p> + +<p>"Strangers!" emphatically repeated Lady Level.</p> + +<p>"Or wives either. They are the same as strangers in a case such as +this. I assure you Level told me, long before he married you, that +Marshdale was a little secluded place, no establishment kept up in it, +except an old servant or two; that he never received company down +there, and should never take you to it. Remain at the hotel with your +servants, if you will not come to my house, Blanche—there's only a +charwoman in it at present, as you know. Then write to Level and let +him know that you are there."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[207}</span></p> + +<p>"Lady Level had better stay here tonight, at all events," put in +Arnold Ravensworth. "My wife is expecting her to do so."</p> + +<p>"Ay," acquiesced the old Major: "and write to Marshdale tomorrow, +Blanche."</p> + +<p>"I go down to Marshdale tomorrow," she replied in tones of +determination. "It is too late to go tonight. The old servants that +wait upon Lord Level can wait upon me: and if there are none, I will +wait upon him myself. Go there I will, and have an understanding. And, +unless Lord Level can explain away the aspect that things have taken, +I—I—I——"</p> + +<p>"Of all the imbeciles that ever gave utterance to folly, you are the +worst," was the Major's complimentary retort, when she broke down. +"Madam, do you know that you are a peeress of the realm?" he added +pompously.</p> + +<p>"I do not forget it."</p> + +<p>"And you would stand in your own light! You have carriages and finery; +you are to be presented next season; you will then<span class="pagenum">[208}</span> have a house in +town: what does the earth contain more that you <i>can</i> want?"</p> + +<p>"Happiness," said Lady Level.</p> + +<p>"Happiness!" repeated the Major, in genuine astonishment. "A pity but +you had married a country curate and found it, then. Arnold +Ravensworth, you must not lend Lady Level the money she desires; you +shall not speed her on this insane journey."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth approached him, and spoke in low tones. "Do you know +of any existing reason that may render it inexpedient for her to go +there?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about it," replied the Major, too angry to lower his +voice; "absolutely nothing. The Queen and all the princesses might pay +it a visit, for aught I know of any reason to the contrary. But it is +not Lady Level's place to follow her husband about in this clandestine +manner. If he wants her there, he will send for her, once he knows +that she is in London. The place is not much more than a farm, I<span class="pagenum">[209}</span> +believe, and used to be a hunting-box in the late Lord Level's time."</p> + +<p>"Papa, I hope you will forgive me for running counter to your +advice—but I shall certainly go down into Surrey tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"I wash my hands of it altogether," said the angry Major.</p> + +<p>"And you must lend me the money, Arnold."</p> + +<p>"I will not refuse you," was his answer: "and I cannot dictate to you; +but I think it would be better for you to remain here, and let Lord +Level know that you are coming."</p> + +<p>Lady Level shook her head. "Good advice, Arnold, no doubt, and I thank +you; all the same, I shall go down as I have said."</p> + +<p>"You will be very much to blame, sir, if you help on this mad scheme +by so much as a sixpence," spoke the Major.</p> + +<p>"Papa, listen to a word of common sense," she interposed. "I could go +to a dozen places tomorrow, and get any amount of money. I could go to +Lord Level's agents,<span class="pagenum">[210}</span> and say I am Lady Level, and they would supply +me. I could go to Mr. Brightman, and he would supply me—Charles +Strange is in Paris again. I could go to other places. But I prefer to +have it from Mr. Ravensworth, and save myself trouble and annoyance. +It is not a pleasant thing for a peeress of the realm—as you just now +put it—to go about borrowing a five-pound note," she concluded with a +faint smile.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Blanche. If ill comes of this wild step of yours, remember +you were warned against it. I can say no more."</p> + +<p>Gathering up his cloak as he spoke, Major Carlen threw it over his +shoulders, and went forth, muttering, into the night.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth called his wife, and she took Lady Level upstairs to a +hastily-prepared chamber. Sitting down in a low chair, and throwing +off her bonnet, Lady Level, worn out with all the excitement she had +gone through, burst into a flood of hysterical tears.</p> + +<p>"Tell me all about it," said Mary Ravensworth<span class="pagenum">[211}</span> soothingly, drawing the +poor wearied head to rest on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"They meant to stop me from going down to my husband, and I <i>will</i> +go," sobbed Blanche half defiantly. "If he has met with an accident, +and is ill, I ought to be there."</p> + +<p>"Of course you ought," said Mary warmly. "But what is all the trouble +about?—And what was it that you heard, and did not like, in Holles +Street?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind that," said Blanche, colouring furiously. "That is +what I am going to ask my husband to explain."</p> + +<p>Upon Lady Level's arrival in London that morning, she sent her +servants and luggage to an hotel, and drove straight to Portland Place +herself: where Mr. and Mrs. Ravensworth's servants supplied her with +breakfast. Afterwards, she went to Holles Street, arriving there about +ten o'clock; walked into the passage, for the house door was open, was +met by a young person in green, and inquired for Lord Level.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[212}</span></p> + +<p>"Lord Level's not here now, ma'am," was the answer, as she showed +Blanche into a parlour. "He has been gone about a week."</p> + +<p>"Gone about a week!" repeated Blanche, completely taken back; for she +had pictured him as lying at the place disabled.</p> + +<p>"About that time, ma'am. He and the lady left together."</p> + +<p>Blanche stared, and collected her scattered senses. "What lady?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>The young person in green considered. "Well, ma'am, I forget the name +just now; those foreign names are hard to remember. His lordship +called her Nina. A very handsome lady, she was—Italian, I think—with +long gold earrings."</p> + +<p>Lady Level's heart began to beat loudly. "May I ask if you are Mrs. +Pratt?" she inquired, knowing that to be the name of the landlady.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, no, ma'am; Mrs. Pratt's my aunt; I'm up here on a visit to +her from the country. She is gone out to do her marketings. Lord Level +was going down to<span class="pagenum">[213}</span> his seat in Surrey, we understood, when he left +here."</p> + +<p>"Was the Italian lady going with him?"</p> + +<p>The country girl—who was no doubt an inexperienced, simple country +maiden, or she might not have talked so freely—shook her head. "We +don't know anything about that, ma'am: she might have been. She was +related to my lord—his sister-in-law, I think he called her to Mrs. +Pratt—or some relation of that sort."</p> + +<p>Blanche walked to the window and stood still for a moment, looking +into the street, getting up her breath. "Did the lady stay with Lord +Level all the time he was here?" she questioned, presently.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, ma'am; she came only the day before he went away. Or, +stay—the day but one before, I think it was. Yes; for I know they +were out together nearly all the intervening day. Mrs. Pratt thought +at his lordship's solicitor's. It was about six o'clock in the evening +when she first arrived. My lord had spoken to Mrs. Pratt that day in<span class="pagenum">[214}</span> +his drawing-room, saying he was expecting a relative from Italy for a +day or two, and could we let her have a bedroom, and any other +accommodation she might need; and Mrs. Pratt said she would, for we +were not full. A very nice lady she seemed to be, ma'am, and spoke +English in a very pretty manner."</p> + +<p>Lady Level drew in her contemptuous lips. "Did Lord Level meet with +any accident while he was here?"</p> + +<p>"Accident, ma'am! Not that we heard of. He was quite well when he +left."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Blanche, turning away and drawing her mantle up with +a shiver. "As Lord Level is not here, I will not intrude upon you +further."</p> + +<p>Wishing the young person in green good-morning, she went away to +Gloucester Place, feeling that she must scream or cry or fight the +air. Blanche knew Major Carlen was about due in London, as his house +was vacant again. Yes, the old charwoman said, the Major had got home +the previous day, but<span class="pagenum">[215}</span> he had just gone out. Would my lady (for she +knew Blanche) like to walk in and wait until he returned?</p> + +<p>My lady did so, and had to wait until evening. Then she partly +explained to Major Carlen, and partly confused him; causing that +gentleman to take up all kinds of free and easy ideas, as to the +morals and manners of my Lord Level.</p> + +<p>On the following morning Lady Level, pursuing her own sweet will, took +train for Marshdale, leaving her servants behind her.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i016.jpg" width="150" height="152" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[216}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i017a.jpg" width="400" height="107" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE HOUSE AT MARSHDALE.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-i.jpg" width="81" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">I</span>T</b> was a gloomy day, not far off the gloomy month of November, and it +was growing towards mid-day, when a train on a small line, branching +from the direct London line, drew up at the somewhat insignificant +station of Upper Marshdale. A young and beautiful lady, without +attendants, descended from a first-class carriage.</p> + +<p>"Any luggage, ma'am?" inquired a porter, stepping up to her.</p> + +<p>"A small black bag; nothing else."</p> + +<p>The bag was found in the van, and placed on the platform. A family, +who also<span class="pagenum">[217}</span> appeared to have arrived at their destination, closed round +the van and were tumultuous over a missing trunk, and the lady drew +back and accosted a stolid-looking lad, dressed in the railway +uniform.</p> + +<p>"How far is it to Marshdale?"</p> + +<p>"Marshdale! Why, you be at Marshdale," returned the boy, in sulky +tones.</p> + +<p>"I mean Marshdale House."</p> + +<p>"Marshdale House?—That be my Lord Level's place," said the boy, still +more sulkily. "It be a matter of two mile."</p> + +<p>"Are there any carriages to be hired?"</p> + +<p>"There's one—a fly; he waits here when the train comes in."</p> + +<p>"Where is it to be found?"</p> + +<p>"It stands in the road, yonder. But if ye wants the fly, it's of no +use wanting. It have been booked by them folks squabbling over their +boxes: they writed here yesterday for it to be ready for 'em."</p> + +<p>The more civil porter now came up, and the lady appealed to him. He +confirmed the information that there was only this one<span class="pagenum">[218}</span> conveyance to +be had, and the family had secured it. Perhaps, he added, the lady +might like to wait until they had done with it.</p> + +<p>The lady shook her head impatiently, and decided to walk. "Can you +come with me to carry my bag and to show me the way?" she asked of the +surly boy.</p> + +<p>The surly boy, willing or unwilling, had to acquiesce, and they set +off to walk. Upon emerging from the station, he came to a standstill.</p> + +<p>"Now, which way d'you mean to go?" began he, facing round upon his +companion. "There's the road way, and it's plaguy long; two mile, +good; and there's the field way, and it's a sight nearer."</p> + +<p>"Is it as good as the road?"</p> + +<p>"It's gooder—barring the bull. He runs at everybody. And he tosses +'em, if he can catch 'em."</p> + +<p>Not caring to encounter so objectionable an animal, the lady chose the +road; and the boy strode on before her, bag in hand. It<span class="pagenum">[219}</span> was downhill +all the way. In due time they reached Marshdale House, which lay in a +hollow. It was a low, straggling, irregular structure, built of dark +red brick, with wings and gable ends, and must originally have looked +more like a comfortable farm-house than a nobleman's seat. But it had +been added to at various periods, without any regard to outward +appearance or internal regularity. It was exceedingly retired, and a +very large garden surrounded the house, encompassed by high walls and +dense trees.</p> + +<p>The walls were separated by a pair of handsome iron gates, and a small +doorway stood beside them. A short, straight avenue, overhung by +trees, led to the front entrance of the house. The surly boy, turning +himself and his bag round, pushed backwards against the small door, +sent it flying, and branched off into a side-path.</p> + +<p>"Is not that the front-door?" said the lady, trying to arrest him.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't no manner of use going to it," replied the imperturbable boy, +marching on.<span class="pagenum">[220}</span> "The old gentleman and lady gets out o' the way, and the +maids in the kitchen be deaf, I think. Last time I came up here with a +parcel, I rung at it till I was tired, and nobody heard."</p> + +<p>He went up to a side-door, flung it open, and put down the bag. A +neat-looking young woman, with her sleeves turned up, came forward, +and stared in silence.</p> + +<p>"Is Lord Level within?" inquired the lady.</p> + +<p>"My lord's ill in bed," replied the servant; "he cannot be seen or +spoken to. What do you want with him, please?"</p> + +<p>She seemed a good-tempered, ignorant sort of girl, but nothing more. +At that moment someone called to her from an inner room, and she +turned away.</p> + +<p>"Are there not any upper servants in the house, do you know?" inquired +the lady of the boy.</p> + +<p>"I doesn't think so. There's the missis."</p> + +<p>A tinge came over the lady's face. "The mistress! Who is she?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[221}</span></p> + +<p>"She's Mrs. Ed'ards. An old lady, what comes to church with buckles in +her shoes. And there's Mr.——"</p> + +<p>"What is it that you want here?" interrupted the servant girl, +advancing again, and addressing the visitor in a not very conciliatory +tone.</p> + +<p>"I am Lady Level," was the reply, in a ringing, imperious voice. "Call +someone to receive me."</p> + +<p>It found its way to the girl's alarm. She looked scared, doubting, and +finally turned and flew off down a long, dark passage. The boy heard +the announcement without its ruffling his equanimity in the least +degree.</p> + +<p>"That's all, ain't it?" asked he, giving the bag a condescending touch +with his foot.</p> + +<p>"How much am I to pay you?" inquired Lady Level.</p> + +<p>The boy paused. "You bain't obliged to pay nothing."</p> + +<p>"What is the charge?" repeated Lady Level.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[222}</span></p> + +<p>"The charge ain't nothing. If folks like to give anything, it's gived +as a gift."</p> + +<p>She smiled, and, taking out her purse, gave him half-a-crown. He +received it with remarkable satisfaction, and then, with an air of +great mystery and cunning, slipped it into his boot.</p> + +<p>"But, I say, don't you go and tell, over there, as you gived it me," +said he, jerking his head in the direction of the railway station. "We +are not let take nothing, and there'd be the whole lot of 'em about my +ears. You won't tell?"</p> + +<p>"No, I will not tell," replied Lady Level, laughing, in spite of her +cares and annoyances. And the promising young porter in embryo, giving +vent to a shrill whistle, which might have been heard at the +two-mile-off station, tore away as fast as his legs would carry him.</p> + +<p>The girl came back with a quaint old lady. Her hair was white, her +complexion clear and fresh, and her eyes were black and<span class="pagenum">[223}</span> piercing as +ever they had been in her youth. She looked in doubt at the visitor, +as the servant had done.</p> + +<p>"I am told that someone is inquiring for my lord."</p> + +<p>"His wife is inquiring for him. I am Lady Level."</p> + +<p>Had any doubt been wavering in the old lady's mind, the tones +dispelled it. She curtseyed to the ground—the stately, upright, +old-fashioned curtsey of the days gone by. A look of distress rose to +her face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lady! That I should live to receive my lord's wife in this +unprepared, unceremonious manner! He told me you were in foreign +parts, beyond seas."</p> + +<p>"I returned to England yesterday, and have left my servants in town. +What is the matter with Lord Level?"</p> + +<p>"That your ladyship should come to such a house as this, all +unfurnished and disordered! and—I beg your pardon, my lady! I cannot +take you through these passages," she added, curtseying for Lady<span class="pagenum">[224}</span> +Level to go out again. "Deborah, go round and open the front-door."</p> + +<p>Lady Level, in the midst of much lamentation, was conducted to the +front entrance, and thence ushered into a long, low, uncarpeted room +on the left of the dark hall. It was very bare of furniture, chairs +and a large table being all that it contained. "It is of no +consequence," said Lady Level; "I have come only to see Lord Level, +and may not remain above an hour or two. I cannot tell. You are Mrs. +Edwards, I think. I have heard Lord Level mention you."</p> + +<p>"My name is Edwards, my lady. I was housekeeper in the late lord's +time, and, when a young woman, I had the honour of nursing my lord. +Since the late lord's death, I and my brother, Jacob Drewitt, have +mostly lived here. He used to be house steward at Marshdale."</p> + +<p>Lady Level removed her bonnet and cloak, and threw them on the table. +She looked impatient and restless, as she listened to the account of +her husband's accident.<span class="pagenum">[225}</span> He had received an injury to his knee, when +out riding, the day after his arrival at Marshdale; fever had set in, +deepening at times to slight delirium.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see him," said Lady Level. "Will you take me to his +chamber?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Edwards marshalled her upstairs. Curious, in-and-out, wide and +shallow stairs they were, with long passages and short turnings +branching from them. She gently threw open the door of a large, +handsome room. On the bed lay Lord Level, his eyes closed.</p> + +<p>"He is dozing again, my lady," she whispered. "He is sure to fall to +sleep whenever the fever leaves him."</p> + +<p>"There is no fire in the room!" exclaimed Lady Level.</p> + +<p>"The doctor says there's not to be any, my lady. In the room opposite +to this, across the passage, you will find a good one. It is my lord's +sitting-room when he is well. And here," noiselessly opening a door +facing the foot of the bed, "is another chamber,<span class="pagenum">[226}</span> that can be prepared +for your ladyship, if you remain."</p> + +<p>The housekeeper left the room as she spoke, scarcely knowing whether +she stood on her head or her heels, so completely was she confounded +by this arrival of Lady Level's—and nothing wherewith to receive her! +Mrs. Edwards had her head and hands full just then.</p> + +<p>As Lady Level moved forward, her dress came into contact with a light +chair, and moved it. The invalid started, and raised himself on his +elbow.</p> + +<p>"Why!—who—is it?"</p> + +<p>"It is I, Lord Level," she said, advancing to the bed.</p> + +<p>He looked strangely amazed and perplexed. He could not believe his own +eyes, and stared at her as though he would discover whether she was +really before him, or whether he was in a dream.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know me?" she asked gently.</p> + +<p>"Is it—Blanche?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[227}</span></p> + +<p>"But where have you come from?—what brings you here?" he slowly +ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"I came down by train to-day. I have come to speak to you."</p> + +<p>"You were in Germany. I left you in Germany!"</p> + +<p>"I thought I had been there long enough: too long; and I quitted it. +Archibald, I could not stay there. Had I done so, I should have been +ill as you are. I think I should have died."</p> + +<p>He said nothing for a few moments, and appeared to be lost in thought. +Then he drew her face down to his, and kissed it.</p> + +<p>"You ought not to have come over without my permission, Blanche."</p> + +<p>"I did not travel alone. Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth chanced to +put up at the inn on their homeward route, and I took the opportunity +to come over with them."</p> + +<p>The information evidently did not please Lord Level. His brow +contracted.</p> + +<p>"You wrote me word that you had had an accident," she continued. "How +could<span class="pagenum">[228}</span> I be contented to remain away after that? So I came over: and I +went to your rooms in Holles Street——"</p> + +<p>"Why on earth did you go there?" he sharply interrupted. "When I had +left them."</p> + +<p>"But I did not know you had left them. How was I to know you had come +to Marshdale if you never told me so? When I found you had left Holles +Street, I went straight to Gloucester Place. Papa has just come home +from Jersey."</p> + +<p>"You ought to have remained in Germany until I was able to join you," +he reiterated irritably; and Blanche could not avoid seeing that he +was growing agitated and feverish. "What's to become of you? Where are +you to be?"</p> + +<p>"First of all, I want to have an explanation with you," said Blanche. +"I came over on purpose to have it; to tell you many things. One is, +that I will no longer submit to be treated as a child——"</p> + +<p>"Blanche!" he curtly interrupted.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[229}</span></p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"You are acting as a child now, and as nothing else. This nonsense +that you are talking—I am not in a condition to hear it."</p> + +<p>"It is not nonsense," said Blanche.</p> + +<p>"It is what I will not listen to. It was the height of folly to come +here. All you can do now is to go back to London by the next train."</p> + +<p>"Go back where?" she passionately asked. "I have no home in London."</p> + +<p>"I dare say Major Carlen will receive you for a week. Before that time +I hope to be well enough to come up, and prepare a home for you. Where +are Sanders and Timms?"</p> + +<p>"I did not bring them down with me. They are at an hotel. Why cannot I +stay here?"</p> + +<p>"Because I won't have it. There is nothing in the place ready for you, +or suited to you."</p> + +<p>"If it is suited to you, it's suited to me. I say I will not be +treated as a child any<span class="pagenum">[230}</span> longer. I could be quite happy here. There is +nothing I should like so much as to explore this old house. I never +saw such an array of ghostly passages anywhere."</p> + +<p>Something in the words seemed dangerously to excite Lord Level. The +fever was visibly increasing.</p> + +<p>"I forbid you to explore; I forbid you to remain here!" he exclaimed +in the deepest agitation. "Do you hear me, Blanche?—you must return +by the next train."</p> + +<p>"I will not," she replied, quite as obstinate as he. "I will not go +hence until I have had an explanation with you. If you are too ill at +present, I will wait for it."</p> + +<p>He was, indeed, too ill. "Quiet, above all things," the doctor had +said when he had paid his early morning visit. But quiet Lord Level +had not had; his wife had put an end to that. His talk grew random, +his mind wandering; a paroxysm of fever ensued. In terror Lady Level +rang the bell.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Edwards answered it. Blanche gazed at her with astonishment, +scarcely<span class="pagenum">[231}</span> recognising her. She had put on her gala dress of days long +gone by: a short, full, red petticoat, a chintz gown looped above it +in festoons, high-heeled shoes, buckles, snow-white stockings with +worked "clocks," a mob cap of clear lace, large gold earrings, and +black mittens. All this she had assumed out of respect to her new +lady.</p> + +<p>"Is he out of his mind?" gasped Lady Level, terrified at her lord's +words and his restless motions.</p> + +<p>"It is the fever, my lady," said Mrs. Edwards. "Dear, dear! And we +thought him so much better today!"</p> + +<p>Close upon that, Dr. Macferraty, the medical man, came in. He was of +square-built frame with broad shoulders, very dictatorial and positive +considering his years, which did not number more than +seven-and-twenty.</p> + +<p>"What mischief has been at work here?" he demanded, standing over the +bed with Mrs. Edwards. "Who has been with him?"</p> + +<p>She explained that Lady Level had arrived<span class="pagenum">[232}</span> and had been talking with +his lordship. She—Mrs. Edwards—had begged her ladyship <i>not</i> to talk +to him; but—well, the young were heedless and did not think of +consequences.</p> + +<p>"If she has worried him into brain-fever, she will have herself to +thank for it," harshly spoke the doctor. And Lady Level, who was in +the adjoining room, overheard the words.</p> + +<p>"Something has happened to agitate my patient!" exclaimed Doctor +Macferraty, when, in leaving the room, he encountered Lady Level in +the passage, and was introduced to her by Mrs. Edwards.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," she answered. "We were speaking of family affairs, +and Lord Level grew excited."</p> + +<p>"Then, madam," said the doctor, "do not speak of family affairs again, +whilst he is in this weak condition, or of any other affairs likely to +excite him. You must, if you please, put off all such topics until he +is better."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[233}</span></p> + +<p>"How long will that be?" asked Lady Level.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say; it may be a week, or it may be a month. When once these +intermittent fevers get into the system, it is difficult to shake them +off again."</p> + +<p>"It will not go on to—to anything worse?" questioned Lady Level +timidly, recalling what she had just overheard.</p> + +<p>"I hope not; but I cannot answer for it. Your ladyship must be good +enough to bear in mind that much depends upon his keeping himself +tranquil, and upon those around helping to keep him so."</p> + +<p>The doctor withdrew as he spoke, telling Mrs. Edwards that he would +look in again at night. Lord Level remained very excited throughout +the rest of the day; he had a bad night, the fever continuing, and was +no better in the morning. Mrs. Edwards had sat up with him.</p> + +<p>Lady Level then made up her mind to remain at Marshdale, consulting +neither her lord nor anyone else. As Major Carlen had<span class="pagenum">[234}</span> remarked, +Blanche was developing a will of her own. Though, indeed, it might not +have been right to leave him in his present condition. She sent for +Sanders and Timms, the two servants who had attended her from Germany, +and for certain luggage belonging to herself. Mrs. Edwards did the +best she could with this influx of visitors to a scantily-furnished +house. Lady Level occupied the chamber that opened from her husband's; +it also opened on to the corridor.</p> + +<p>"Madam," said Dr. Macferraty to her, taking the bull by the horns on +one of the earliest days, "you must allow me to give you a word of +advice. Do not, just at present, enter Lord Level's chamber; wait +until he is a little stronger. He has just asked me whether you had +gone back to town, and I did not say no. It is evident that your being +here troubles him. The house, as it is at present, is not in a +condition to receive you, or he appears to think so. Therefore, so +long as he is in this precarious state, do not show yourself to<span class="pagenum">[235}</span> him. +Let him think you have returned to London."</p> + +<p>"Is his mind quite right again?"</p> + +<p>"By no means. But he has lucid intervals. I assure your ladyship it is +of the very utmost importance that he should be kept tranquil. +Otherwise, I will not answer for the consequences."</p> + +<p>Lady Level took the advice in all humility. Bitterly though she was +feeling upon some scores towards her husband, she did not want him to +die; no, nor to have brain-fever. So she kept the door closed between +her room and his, and was as quiet as a mouse at all times. And the +days began to pass on.</p> + +<p>Blanche found them monotonous. She explored the house, but the number +of passages, short and long, their angles and their turnings, confused +her. She made the acquaintance of the steward, Mr. Drewitt, an elderly +gentleman who went about in a plum-coloured suit and a large cambric +frill to his shirt. One autumn morning when Blanche had traversed the +long corridor, beyond the<span class="pagenum">[236}</span> rooms which she and Lord Level occupied, +she turned into another at right angles with it, and came to a door +that was partly open. Passing through it, she found herself in a +narrow passage that she had not before seen. Deborah, the good-natured +housemaid, suddenly came out of one of the rooms opening from it, +carrying a brush and dustpan. Deborah was the only servant kept in the +house, so far as Lady Level saw, apart from the cook, who was fat and +experienced.</p> + +<p>"What a curious old house!" exclaimed Lady Level. "Nothing but dark +passages that turn and wind about until you don't know where you are."</p> + +<p>"It is that, my lady," answered Deborah. "In the late lord's time the +servants took to calling it the maze, it puzzled them so. The name got +abroad, and some people call it the maze to this day."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I have been in this passage before. Does anyone live or +sleep here?" added Lady Level, looking at the household articles +Deborah carried.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[237}</span></p> + +<p>It was a dark, narrow passage, closed in by a door at each end. The +door at the upper end was of oak; heavy, and studded with nails. Four +rooms opened from the passage, two on each side.</p> + +<p>"All these rooms are occupied by the master and missis," said Deborah, +alluding to the steward and his sister. "This is Mrs. Edwards's +chamber, my lady," pointing to the one she had just quitted. "That +beyond it is Mr. Drewitt's; the opposite room is their sitting-room, +and the one beside it is not used."</p> + +<p>"Where does that heavy door lead to?" continued Lady Level.</p> + +<p>"It leads into the East Wing, my lady," replied Deborah. "I have never +entered that wing all the two years I've lived here," continued the +gossiping girl. "I am not allowed to do so. The door is kept locked; +as well as the door answering to it in the passage below."</p> + +<p>"Does no one ever go into it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, my lady; Mr. Drewitt does, and spends a good part of his +time there.<span class="pagenum">[238}</span> He has a business-room there, in which he keeps his books +and papers relating to the estate. Mrs. Edwards is in there, too, with +him most days. And my lord goes in when he is down here."</p> + +<p>"Then no one really inhabits that wing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, my lady, John Snow and his wife live in it; he's the head +gardener. A many years he has been in the family; and one of the last +things the late lord did before he died was to give him that wing to +live in. An easy life Snow has of it now; working or not, just as he +pleases. When there's any unusual work to be done, our gardener on +this side is had in to help with it."</p> + +<p>Lady Level did not feel much interested in the wing, or in Snow the +gardener. But it happened that not half an hour after this +conversation, she chanced to see Mrs. Snow.</p> + +<p>Leaning, in her listlessness, out of an open window that was just +above the side entrance, to which she had been conducted by the boy on +her way from the station, she was noticing how high the wall was that<span class="pagenum">[239}</span> +separated the garden of the house from the garden of the East Wing. +Lofty trees, closely planted, also flanked the wall, so that not the +slightest glimpse could be had on either side of the other garden. The +East Wing, with its grounds, was as completely hidden from view as +though it had no existence. While rather wondering at this—for the +East Wing was, after all, a part of the house, and not detached from +it—Lady Level saw a woman emerge from a little sheltered doorway in +the wall, lock it after her, and come up the path, key in hand. This +obscure doorway, and another at the foot of the East Wing garden +opening to the road, were apparently the only means of entrance to it. +To the latter door, always kept locked, was attached a large bell, +which awoke the surrounding echoes whenever tradespeople or other +applicants rang at it.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Hannah Snow?" cried the cook, stepping forward to meet +the other as she came up the path. "And how are you to-day? Do you +want anything?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[240}</span></p> + +<p>Catching the name, Lady Level looked out more closely. She saw a tall, +strong, respectable woman of middle age, with a smiling, happy face, +and laughing hazel eyes. She wore a neat white cap, a clean cotton +gown and gray-checked apron.</p> + +<p>"Yes, cook," was the answer, given in a merry voice. "I want you to +give me a handful of candied peel. I am preparing a batch of cakes for +my old man, never supposing I had not all the ingredients at hand, and +I find I have no peel. I'm sure I had some; and I tell John he must +have stolen it."</p> + +<p>"What a shame!" cried the cook, taking the words more literally than +they were intended. Mrs. Snow laughed.</p> + +<p>"Fact is, I suppose I used the last of it in the bread-and-butter +pudding I made last week," said she.</p> + +<p>"You are always making cakes for that man o' yours, seems to me, +Hannah," grumbled the cook. "We can smell them over here when they're +baking, and that's pretty often."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[241}</span></p> + +<p>"Seems I am: he's always asking for them," assented Hannah. "He likes +to eat one now and then between meals, you see.</p> + +<p>"Well, he's a rare one for his inside," retorted the cook, as she went +in for the candied peel.</p> + +<p>"They seem to do very much as they like here," was the only thought +that crossed Lady Level.</p> + +<p>On this same day Lord Level, who had grown so much better as to be out +of danger, dismissed his doctor. Presenting him with a handsome +cheque, he told him that he required no further attendance. Blanche +received the news from Mrs. Edwards.</p> + +<p>"But is he so well as that?" she asked, in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Well, my lady, he is very much better, there's no doubt of that. He +will be out of bed to-morrow or the next day, and, if he takes care, +will have no relapse," was the housekeeper's answer. "No doubt it +might be safer for the doctor to continue to come<span class="pagenum">[242}</span> a little longer, if +it were only to enjoin strict quiet; but you see my lord does not like +him."</p> + +<p>"I fancied he did not."</p> + +<p>"He is not our own doctor, as perhaps your ladyship has heard," +pursued Mrs. Edwards. "<i>He</i> is a Mr. Hill: a clever, pleasant man, of +a certain age, who was very intimate with the late lord. They were +close friends, I may say. When his lordship met with this accident, it +put him out uncommonly that we had to send for the young man, Dr. +Macferraty, Mr. Hill being away."</p> + +<p>"If Lord Level is so well as to do without a doctor, I might go into +his room. Don't you think so, Mrs. Edwards?"</p> + +<p>"Better not for a day or two, my lady; better not, indeed. I'm afraid +my lord will be angry at your having stayed here—there being no +fitting establishment or accommodation for your ladyship; and——"</p> + +<p>"That is such nonsense!" interrupted Lady Level. "With Sanders and +Timms<span class="pagenum">[243}</span> here, I am more attended to than is really necessary. And even +if I had to put up with discomfort for a short time, I dare say I +should survive it."</p> + +<p>"And it might cause his lordship excitement, I was about to say," +quickly continued Mrs. Edwards. "A very little thing would bring the +fever back again."</p> + +<p>Blanche sighed rebelliously, but recognised the obligation to condemn +herself a little longer to this dreary existence.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i018.jpg" width="150" height="165" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[244}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i019a.jpg" width="400" height="117" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE QUARREL.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-t.jpg" width="81" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">T</span>HE</b> following day was charmingly fine: the sun brilliant, the air warm +as summer. In the afternoon Lady Level went out to take a walk. Lord +Level was not up that day, but would be, all being well, on the +morrow. It was the injury to the knee more than his general health +that was keeping him in bed now.</p> + +<p>Outside the gate Blanche looked about her, and decided to take the way +towards the railway station. Upper Marshdale lay close beyond it, and +she thought she would see what the little town was like. If she felt +tired after exploring it, she could engage<span class="pagenum">[245}</span> the solitary railway fly +to bring her home again.</p> + +<p>She went along the deserted road, passing a peasant's cottage now and +then. Very near to the station she met the surly boy. He was coming +along with a leap and a whistle, and stopped dead at sight of Lady +Level.</p> + +<p>"I say," said he, in a low tone, all his glee and his impudence gone +out of him, "be you going <i>there</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Lady Level, half smiling, for the boy amused her. He +had pointed to indicate the station, but so awkwardly that she thought +he pointed to the roofs and chimneys beyond it. "Yes, I am. Why?"</p> + +<p>His face fell. "Not to tell of <i>me</i>?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"To tell of you! What should I have to tell of you?"</p> + +<p>"About that there half-crown. You <i>give</i> him to me, mind; I never +asked. You can't see the station-master if you try: he's a gone to his +tea."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[246}</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I won't tell of that," said Lady Level. "I am going to the +village, not to the station."</p> + +<p>"They'd make such a row," said the boy, somewhat relieved. "The +porter'd be mad that it wasn't given to him; he might get me sent away +perhaps for't. It's such a lot, you see: a whole half-crown: when +anything is given, it's a sixpence. But 'tain't nothing that's given +mostly; <i>nothing</i>."</p> + +<p>The intense resentment thrown into the last word made Lady Level +laugh.</p> + +<p>"It's a sight o' time, weeks and weeks, since I've had anything given +me afore, barring the three penny pieces from Mr. Snow," went on the +grumbling boy. "And what's three penny pieces?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Snow?" repeated Lady Level. "Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"He is Lord Level's head gardener, he be. He comes up here to the +station one day, not long afore you come down; and he collars the fly +for the next down-train. The next down-train comes in and brings my +lord<span class="pagenum">[247}</span> and a lady with him. Mr. Snow, he puts the lady inside, and he +puts what luggage there were outside. 'Twasn't much, and I helps him, +and he dives into his pockets and brings out three penny pieces. And +I'll swear that for weeks afore nobody had never given me a single +farthing."</p> + +<p>Lady Level changed colour. "What's your name?" she suddenly asked the +boy, to cover her confusion.</p> + +<p>"It be Sam Doughty. That there lady——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know the lady," she carelessly interrupted, hating herself at +the same time for pursuing the subject and the questions. "A lady with +black hair and eyes, was it not, and long gold earrings?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it were. I noticed the earrings, d'ye see, the sun made 'em +sparkle so. Handsome earrings they was; as handsome as she were."</p> + +<p>"And Lord Level took her home with him in the fly, did he?"</p> + +<p>"That he didn't. She went along of herself,<span class="pagenum">[248}</span> Mr. Snow a-riding on the +box. My lord walked across the fields. The station-master telled him +to mind the bull, but my lord called back that he warn't afraid."</p> + +<p>There was nothing more to ask; nothing more that she could ask. But +Lady Level had heard enough to disturb her equanimity, and she turned +without going on to Upper Marshdale. That the lady with the gold +earrings was either in the house, or in its East Wing, and that that +was why she was wanted out of it, seemed clearer to her than the sun +at noonday.</p> + +<p>That same evening, Lady Level's servants were at supper in the large +kitchen: where, as no establishment was kept up in the house, they +condescended to take their meals. Deborah was partly waiting on them, +partly gossiping, and partly dressing veal cutlets and bacon in the +Dutch oven for what she called the upstairs supper. The cook had gone +to bed early with a violent toothache.</p> + +<p>"You have enough there, I hope," cried<span class="pagenum">[249}</span> Timms, as Deborah brought the +Dutch oven to the table to turn the cutlets.</p> + +<p>"Old Mr. Drewitt has such an appetite; leastways at his supper," +answered Deborah.</p> + +<p>"I wonder they don't take their meals below; it's a long way to carry +them up all them stairs," remarked Mr. Sanders, when Deborah was +placing her dish of cutlets on the tray prepared for it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mind it; I'm used to it now," said the good-humoured +girl, as she went off with a quick step.</p> + +<p>Deborah returned with a quieter step than she had departed. "They are +quarrelling like anything!" she exclaimed in a low, frightened voice. +"She's gone into my lord's room, and they are having it out over +something or other."</p> + +<p>Timms, who was then engaged in eating some favourite custard pudding, +looked up. "What? Who? Do you mean my lord and my lady? How do you +know, Deborah?"</p> + +<p>"I heard them wrangling as I went by. I have to pass their rooms, you +know, to<span class="pagenum">[250}</span> get to Mr. Drewitt's rooms, and I heard them still louder as +I came back. They are quarrelling just like common people. Has she a +temper?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Timms. "He has, though; that is, he can be frightfully +passionate at times."</p> + +<p>"He is not thought so in this house," returned Deborah. "To hear my +master and mistress talk, my lord is just an angel upon earth."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Timms, sniffing significantly.</p> + +<p>Her supper ended, but not her curiosity, Timms stole a part of the way +upstairs, and listened. But she only came in for the end of the +dispute, as she related to Mr. Sanders on her return. Lady Level, +after some final speech of bitter reproach, passed into her room and +shut the door with a force that shook the walls, and probably shook +Lord Level, who relieved his wrath by a little delicate language. So +much Timms heard; but of what the quarrel had been about, she did not +gather the faintest glimmer.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[251}</span></p> + +<p>The house went to rest. Silence, probably sleep, had reigned within it +for some two hours, and the clock had struck one, when wild calls of +alarm, coupled with the ringing of his bell, issued from Lord Level's +chamber. The servants rose hastily, in terror. Those cries of fear +came not from their lord, but from Lady Level.</p> + +<p>Sanders, partly attired, hastened thither; Timms, in a huge shawl, +opened her door and stopped him; Deborah came flying down the long +corridor. Mrs. Edwards was already in Lord Level's chamber. Lady +Level, in a blue silk wrapping-gown, her cries of alarm over, lay +panting in a chair, extremely agitated; and Lord Level was in a +fainting-fit on his bed, with a stab in his arm, and another in his +side, from which blood was flowing.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Some hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth were at breakfast in +Portland Place, when Major Carlen entered without ceremony. His +purple-and-scarlet cloak,<span class="pagenum">[252}</span> without which he rarely stirred out, had +come unfastened and trailed behind him; his face looked scared and +crestfallen.</p> + +<p>"I must see you, I must see you!" cried the Major, throwing up his +hands, as if apologizing for the intrusion. "It's on a matter of life +and death."</p> + +<p>"We have finished breakfast," said Mrs. Ravensworth; and she rose and +left them together.</p> + +<p>The Major strode up to Arnold, his teeth actually chattering. "I told +you what it would be," he muttered. "I warned you of the consequences, +if you helped Blanche to go down there. She has attempted his life."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth gazed at him inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"By George she has! They had a blowup last night, it seems, and she +has stabbed him. It can be no one else who has done it. When these +delicate girls are put up; made jealous, and that sort of thing; they +are as bad as their more furious sisters. Witness that character of +Scott's—what's her <span class="pagenum">[253}</span>name?—Lucy, in the 'Bride of Lam——'"</p> + +<p>"For pity's sake, Major Carlen, what are you saying?" interrupted Mr. +Ravensworth, scarcely knowing whether the Major was mad or sane, or +had been taking dinner in place of breakfast. "Don't introduce trashy +romance into the woes of real life! Has anything happened at Lord +Level's, or has it not?"</p> + +<p>"He is stabbed, I tell you. One of Lord Level's servants, Sanders, +arrived before I was up, with a note from Blanche. Here, read it!" But +the Major's hand and the note shook together as he held it out.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Do, dear papa, hasten down! A shocking event has happened to +Lord Level. He has been stabbed in bed. I am terrified out of +my senses.</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Blanche Level.</span>"</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Now, she has done it," whispered the Major again, his stony eyes +turned on Mr. Ravensworth in dread. "As sure as that her name's +Blanche Level, it is she who has done it!"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[254}</span></p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Impossible. Have you learnt any of the details?"</p> + +<p>"A few scraps. As much as the man knew. He says they were awakened by +cries in the middle of the night, and found Lord Level had been +stabbed; and her ladyship was with him, screaming, and fainting on a +chair. 'Who did it, Sanders?' said I. 'It's impossible to make out who +did it, sir,' said he; 'there was no one indoors to do it, and all the +house was in bed.' 'What do the police say?' I asked. 'The police are +not called in, sir,' returned he; 'my lord and my lady won't have it +done.' Now, Ravensworth, what can be clearer proof than that? I used +to think her mother had a tendency to insanity; I did, by Jove! she +went once or twice into such a tantrum with me. Though she had a soft, +sweet temper in general, mild as milk."</p> + +<p>"Well, you must go down without delay."</p> + +<p>The grim old fellow put up his hands, which were trembling visibly. "I +wouldn't go down if you gave me a hundred pounds<span class="pagenum">[255}</span> a mile, poor as I +am, just now. Look what a state I'm in, as it is: I had to get Sanders +to hook my cloak for me, and he didn't half do it. I wouldn't +interfere between Blanche and Level for a gold-mine. You must go down +for me; I came to ask you to do so."</p> + +<p>"It is impossible for me to go down today. I wish I knew more. How did +you hear there had been any disagreement between them?"</p> + +<p>"Sanders let it out. He said the women-servants heard Level and his +wife hotly disputing."</p> + +<p>"Where is Sanders?"</p> + +<p>"In your hall. I brought him round with me."</p> + +<p>The man was called in, and was desired to repeat what he knew of the +affair. It was not much, and it has been already stated.</p> + +<p>"Someone must have got in, Sanders," observed Mr. Ravensworth, when he +had listened.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[256}</span></p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I don't know," was the answer. "The curious thing is that +there are no signs of it. All the doors and windows had been fastened +before we went to bed, and they had not been, so far as we can +discover, in the least disturbed."</p> + +<p>"Do you suspect anyone in the house?"</p> + +<p>"Why—no, sir; there's no one we like to suspect," returned Sanders, +coughing dubiously.</p> + +<p>"The servants——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, none of the servants would do such a thing," interrupted Sanders, +very decidedly: and Mr. Ravensworth feared they might be getting upon +dangerous ground. He caught Major Carlen's significant glance. It +said, as plainly as glance ever yet spoke, "The man suspects his +mistress."</p> + +<p>"Is Lord Level's bedroom isolated from the rest of the rooms?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty well, sir, for that. No one sleeps near him but my lady. Her +room opens from his."</p> + +<p>"Could he have done it himself, Sanders?"<span class="pagenum">[257}</span> struck in Major Carlen. "He +has been light-headed from fever."</p> + +<p>"Just at the first moment the same question occurred to me, sir; but +we soon saw that it was not at all likely. The fever had abated, my +lord was quite collected, and the stab in the arm could not have been +done by himself."</p> + +<p>"Was any instrument found?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir: a clasp-knife, with a small, sharp blade. It was found on +the floor of my lady's room."</p> + +<p>An ominous silence ensued.</p> + +<p>"Are the stabs dangerous?" inquired Mr. Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"It is thought they are only slight, sir. The danger will be if they +bring back the fever. His lordship will not have a doctor called +in——"</p> + +<p>"Not have a doctor called in!"</p> + +<p>"He forbids it absolutely, sir. When we reached his room, in answer to +my lady's cries, he had fainted; but he soon recovered, and hearing +Mrs. Edwards speak<span class="pagenum">[258}</span> of the doctor, he refused to have him sent for."</p> + +<p>"You ought to have sent, all the same," imperiously spoke Mr. +Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>Sanders smiled. "Ah, sir, but my lord's will is law."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth turned to a side-table. He wrote a rapid word to Lady +Level, promising to be with her that evening, gave it to Sanders, and +bade him make the best of his way back to Marshdale. Certain business +of importance was detaining him in town for the day.</p> + +<p>"When you get down there, Ravensworth, you won't say that I wouldn't +go, you know," said the Major. "Say I couldn't."</p> + +<p>"What excuse can I make for you?"</p> + +<p>"Any excuse that comes uppermost. Say I'm in bed with gout. I have +charged Sanders to hold his tongue."</p> + +<p>The day had quite passed before Mr. Ravensworth was able to start on +his journey. It was dark when he reached<span class="pagenum">[259}</span> Upper Marshdale. There he +found Sanders and the solitary fly.</p> + +<p>"Is Lord Level better?" was his first question.</p> + +<p>"A little better this evening, sir, I believe; but he has again been +off his head with fever, and Dr. Macferraty had, after all, to be +called in," replied the man. "My lady is pretty nearly beside herself +too."</p> + +<p>"Have the police been called in yet?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; no chance of it; my lord and my lady won't have it done."</p> + +<p>"It appears to be an old-fashioned place, Sanders," remarked Mr. +Ravensworth, when they had reached the house.</p> + +<p>"It's the most awkward turn-about place inside, sir, you ever saw; +nothing but passages. But my lord never lives here; he only pays it +promiscuous visits now and then, and brings down no servants with him. +He was kept prisoner here, as may be said, through jamming his knee in +a gateway; and then my lady came down, and we<span class="pagenum">[260}</span> are putting up with all +sorts of inconveniences."</p> + +<p>"Who lives here in general?"</p> + +<p>"Two old retainers of the Level family, sir: both of 'em sights to +look upon; she especially. She dresses up like an old picture."</p> + +<p>Waiting within the doorway to receive Mr. Ravensworth was Mrs. +Edwards. He could not take his eyes from her. He had never seen one +like her in real life, and Sanders's words, "dresses up like an old +picture," recurred to him. He had thought this style of dress +completely gone out of date, <i>except</i> in pictures; and here it was +before him, worn by a living woman! She dropped him a stately curtsey, +that would have served for the prelude to a Court minuet in the palmy +days of Queen Charlotte.</p> + +<p>"Sir, you are the gentleman expected by my lady?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—Mr. Ravensworth."</p> + +<p>"I'll show you in myself, sir."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[261}</span></p> + +<p>Taking up a candle from a marble slab—there was no other light to be +seen—she conducted him through the passage, and, turning down another +which stood at right angles with it, halted at the door of a room. In +answer to a question from Mr. Ravensworth, she said his lordship was +much better within the last hour—quite himself again. "What would you +be pleased to take, sir?" she added. "I will order it to be brought in +to you."</p> + +<p>"I require nothing, thank you."</p> + +<p>But quite a housekeeper of the old school, and essentially hospitable, +she would not take a refusal. "I hope you will, sir: tea—or +coffee—or supper——?"</p> + +<p>"A little coffee, then."</p> + +<p>She dropped another of her ceremonious curtseys, and threw open the +door. "The gentleman you expected, my lady."</p> + +<p>It was another long, bare room, but not the one already mentioned. +Singularly bare and empty it looked to-night. A large fire burned in +the grate, halfway down the<span class="pagenum">[262}</span> room, and in an easy-chair before it +reclined Lady Level—asleep. Two wax-candles stood on the high carved +mantelpiece, and the large oak table behind Lady Level was dark with +age. Everything about the room was dreary, excepting the fire, the +lights, and the sleeper.</p> + +<p>Should he awaken her? He looked at Blanche Level and deliberated. Her +feet rested on a footstool, and her head lay on the low back of the +chair, a cushion under it. She wore an evening dress of light silk, +trimmed with white lace. Her neck and arms, only relieved by the lace, +looked cold and bare in the dreary room, for she wore no ornaments; +nothing of gold or silver was about her—except her wedding-ring. Was +it possible that she had attempted the life of him who had put on that +ring? There was a careworn look on her face as she slept, which +lessened her beauty, and two indented lines rose in her forehead, not +usual to a girl of twenty; her mouth, slightly open, showed her teeth; +and very pretty teeth were Lady<span class="pagenum">[263}</span> Level's. No, thought Mr. Ravensworth, +guilty of that crime she never had been!</p> + +<p>Should he arouse her? A coal fell on to the hearth with a rattle, and +settled the question, for Lady Level opened her eyes. A moment's +dreamy unconsciousness, and then she started up, her face flushing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arnold, I beg your pardon! I must have dropped asleep. How good +of you to come!"</p> + +<p>With a burst of tears she held out her hands; it seemed so glad a +relief to have a friend there.</p> + +<p>"Arnold, I am so miserable—so frightened! Why did not papa come down +this morning?"</p> + +<p>"He was——" Mr. Ravensworth searched for an excuse and did not find +one easily "Something kept him in town, and he requested me to come +down in his stead, and see if I could be of any use to you."</p> + +<p>"Have you heard much about it?" she asked, in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Sanders told me and your father what<span class="pagenum">[264}</span> little he knew. But it appeared +most extraordinary to both of us. Sit down, Lady Level," he continued, +drawing a chair nearer to hers. "You look ill and fatigued."</p> + +<p>"I am not ill; unless uncertainty and anxiety can be called illness. +Have you dined?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but your housekeeper insists on hospitality, and will send me up +some coffee."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see so complete a picture as she is? Just like those +engravings we admire in the old frames."</p> + +<p>"Will you describe to me this—the details of the business I came down +to hear?"</p> + +<p>"I am trying to delay it," she said, with a forced laugh—a laugh that +caused Mr. Ravensworth involuntarily to knit his brow, for it spoke of +insincerity. "I think I will not tell you anything about it until +to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"I must leave again to-night. The last up-train passes——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you will stay all night," she interrupted nervously. "I +cannot be left<span class="pagenum">[265}</span> alone. Mrs. Edwards is preparing a room for you +somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Well, we will discuss that by-and-by. What is this unpleasant +business about Lord Level?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what it is," she replied. "He has been attacked and +stabbed. I only know that it nearly frightened me to death."</p> + +<p>"By whom was it done?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she repeated. "They say the doors and windows were all +fastened, and that no one could have got in."</p> + +<p>Now, strange as it may appear, and firmly impressed as Mr. Ravensworth +was with the innocence of Lady Level, there was a tone in her voice, a +look in her countenance, as she spoke the last few sentences, that he +did not like. Her manner was evasive, and she did not meet his glance +openly.</p> + +<p>"Were you in his room when it happened?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no! Since I came down here I have occupied a room next to +his; his<span class="pagenum">[266}</span> dressing-room, I believe, when he stays here at ordinary +times; and I was in bed and asleep at the time."</p> + +<p>"Asleep?"</p> + +<p>"Fast asleep. Until something woke me: and when I entered Lord Level's +room, I found—I found—what had happened."</p> + +<p>"Had it just happened?"</p> + +<p>"Just. I was terrified. After I had called the servants, I think I +nearly fainted. Lord Level quite fainted."</p> + +<p>"But did you not see anyone in the room who could have attacked him?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Nor hear any noise?"</p> + +<p>"I—thought I heard a noise; I am positive I thought so. And I heard +Lord Level's voice."</p> + +<p>"That you naturally would hear. A man whose life is being attempted +would not be likely to remain silent. But you must try and give me a +better explanation than this. You say something suddenly awoke you. +What was it?"</p><p><span class="pagenum">[267}</span></p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you," repeated Lady Level.</p> + +<p>"Was it a noise?"</p> + +<p>"N—o; not exactly. I cannot say precisely what it was."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth deliberated before he spoke again. "My dear Lady +Level, this will not do. If these questions are painful to you, if you +prefer not to trust me, they shall cease, and I will return to town as +wise as I came, without having been able to afford you any assistance +or advice. I think you could tell me more, if you would do so."</p> + +<p>Lady Level burst into tears and grew agitated. A disagreeable +doubt—guilty or not guilty?—stole over Mr. Ravensworth. "Oh, heaven, +that it should be so!" he cried to himself, recalling how good and +gentle she had been through her innocent girlhood. "I came down, +hoping to be to you a true friend," he resumed in a low tone. "If you +will allow me to be so, if you will confide in me, Blanche, come what +may, I will stand by you."</p> + +<p>There was a long silence. Mr. Ravensworth<span class="pagenum">[268}</span> did not choose to break it. +He had said his say, and the rest remained with Lady Level.</p> + +<p>"Lord Level has made me very angry indeed," she broke out, indignation +arresting her tears. "He has made me—almost—hate him."</p> + +<p>"But you are not telling me what occurred."</p> + +<p>"I have told you," she answered. "I was suddenly aroused from sleep, +and then I heard Lord Level's voice, calling 'Blanche! Blanche!' I +went into his room, ran up to him, and he put out his arms and caught +me to him. Then I saw blood upon his nightshirt, and he told me he had +been stabbed. Oh, how I shuddered! I cannot think of it now without +feeling sick and ill, without almost fainting," she added, a shiver +running through her frame.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth's opinion veered round again. "She do it—nonsense!" +Lady Level continued:</p> + +<p>"'Don't scream; don't scream, Blanche,'<span class="pagenum">[269}</span> he said. 'I am not much hurt, +and I will take care of you,' and he held me to him as though I were +in a vice. I thought he did not want me to alarm the house."</p> + +<p>"Did he keep you there long?"</p> + +<p>"It seemed long to me: I don't suppose it was more than a couple of +minutes. His hold gradually relaxed, and then I saw that he had +fainted. Oh, the terror of that moment! all the more intense that it +had been suppressed. I feared he might bleed to death. I opened the +door, and cried and screamed, and called for the servants; I rushed +back to the room and rang the bell; and then I fell back in the +easy-chair, and could do no more."</p> + +<p>"Well, this is a better explanation than you gave me at first," said +Mr. Ravensworth encouragingly: and she had spoken more readily, +without appearance of disguise. "Then it was Lord Level's calling to +you that first aroused you?"</p> + +<p>"No; oh no; it was not that. It——" she stopped in confusion. "At +least—perhaps<span class="pagenum">[270}</span> it was. It—I can't say." She had relapsed into +evasion again, and once more Mr. Ravensworth was plunged in doubt. He +leaned towards her.</p> + +<p>"I am going to ask you a question, Lady Level, and you must of course +answer it or not as you please. I can only repeat that any confidence +you repose in me shall never be betrayed. Did Lord Level inflict this +injury on himself?"</p> + +<p>"No, that was impossible," she freely answered; "it must have been +done to him."</p> + +<p>"The weapon, I hear, was found in your room."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"But how could it have come there?"</p> + +<p>"As if I knew!"</p> + +<p>"Why do you object to the police being called in?"</p> + +<p>"It was Lord Level who objected. When he recovered from his faintness, +and heard them speaking of the police, he called Mr. Drewitt to +him—who is master of the house under Lord Level—and charged him +that<span class="pagenum">[271}</span> nothing of the kind should be done. I would rather they were +here," she added after a pause. "I should feel safer. This morning I +went to my husband and told him if he would not have in the police, +the house searched, and the facts investigated, I should die with +terror. He replied, jestingly, then if I chose to be so foolish, I +must die: the hurt was his, not mine, and if he saw no occasion for +having in the police, and did not choose to have them in, surely I +need not want them. I was perfectly safe, and so was he, he continued, +and he would see that I was kept so. He would not even have the doctor +called in at first; but towards midday, when the fever returned and he +became delirious, Mr. Drewitt sent for him."</p> + +<p>"That seems more strange than all—refusing to have a doctor. He——"</p> + +<p>The arrival of coffee interrupted them. Sanders brought it in in a +silver coffeepot on a silver tray, with biscuits and other light +refreshments; and Mrs. Edwards attended<span class="pagenum">[272}</span> to pour it out. Mr. +Ravensworth repeated to her what he had just said about the doctor.</p> + +<p>"The fact is, sir, my lord does not like Dr. Macferraty," she +rejoined. "None of us in this house do like him; we cannot endure him. +He has not long been in practice, and we look upon him as an upstart. +It is a great misfortune that Mr. Hill is away just now."</p> + +<p>"The usual attendant, I presume, Mrs. Edwards?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; and a friend besides. He and the late lord seemed almost +like brothers, so intimate were they. Mr. Hill's mother is going on +for ninety; she is beginning to break, and he has gone over to see +her. She lives in the Isle of Man. It is almost a month since he went +away."</p> + +<p>"The late lord? Let me see. He was the present lord's uncle, was he +not?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, sir; he was his father," returned Mrs. Edwards, surprised at +the mistake. "The late peer, Archibald Lord<span class="pagenum">[273}</span> Level, had two sons, Mr. +Francis the heir, and Mr. Archibald. Mr. Francis died of consumption, +and lies buried in the family vault in Marshdale Church; and Mr. +Archibald, the only son left, succeeded to his father."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I had forgotten," said Mr. Ravensworth. "An idea was +floating in my mind that the present peer had not been always the +heir-apparent."</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i020.jpg" width="150" height="172" alt="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[274}</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i021a.jpg" width="400" height="110" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">MYSTERY.</p> + +<div> +<img class="dropimg" src="images/letter-s.jpg" width="81" height="80" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><b><span class="hide">S</span>ILENCE</b> had fallen upon the room. Coffee had been taken, and the tray +carried away by Mrs. Edwards. It was yet only eight o'clock. Mr. +Ravensworth sat in mental perplexity, believing he had not come to the +bottom of this dreadful affair; no, nor half-way to it.</p> + +<p>But Lady Level was in still greater perplexity, her mind buried in +miserable reverie. A conviction that she was being frightfully wronged +in some way, and that she would not bear it, lay uppermost with her. +Since meeting with the railway boy, Sam Doughty, the previous +afternoon, and hearing the<span class="pagenum">[275}</span> curious information he had disclosed, her +temper had been gradually rising. It was temper that had caused her to +declare herself to Lord Level while the servants (as related in a +former chapter) were at supper in the kitchen, and Mrs. Edwards and +the old steward were shut up in their sitting-room, waiting for their +own supper to be served. The coast thus clear, in went Blanche to her +lord's chamber. Not to open out the budget of her wrongs—he might not +be sufficiently well for that—but to announce herself. To let him see +that she was still in the house, that she had disregarded his +injunction to quit it; and to assure him, in her rebellious spirit, +that she meant to remain in it as long as she pleased. Not a word of +suspected and unorthodox matters did Lady Level breathe, and the +quarrel that arose between them was wholly on the score of her +disobedience. Lord Level was passionately angry, thus to have been set +at naught. He told her that as his wife she owed him obedience, and +must give it to him. She<span class="pagenum">[276}</span> retorted that she would not do so. The +dispute went no further than that; but loud and angry words passed on +both sides. And the next episode in the drama, some three or four +hours later, was the mysterious attack upon Lord Level.</p> + +<p>"Arnold," suddenly spoke her ladyship, looking up from her chair, "I +mean to take a very decisive step."</p> + +<p>"In what way?" he quietly asked, from his seat on the other side of +the fireplace. "To send for the police?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, no; not that. I shall separate from Lord Level."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mr. Ravensworth, taken by surprise, and thinking she was +jesting.</p> + +<p>"As soon as he is well again, and able to discuss matters, I shall +demand a separation. I shall <i>insist</i> upon it. If he will not accord +it to me privately, I shall apply for it publicly."</p> + +<p>"Blanche, you will do no such thing!" he exclaimed, rising in +excitement. "You do not know what you are saying."</p> + +<p>"And you do not know how much cause I<span class="pagenum">[277}</span> have for saying it," she +answered. "Lord Level has—has—insulted me."</p> + +<p>"Hush," said Mr. Ravensworth. "I don't quite know what you mean by +insult——"</p> + +<p>"And I cannot tell you," she interrupted, her pretty black satin +slipper beating its indignation on the hearthrug, her cheeks wearing a +delicate rose-flush. "It is a thing I can speak of only to himself."</p> + +<p>"But—I was going to say—Lord Level does not, I feel sure, intrude +personal insult upon you. Anything that may take place outside your +knowledge you had better neither notice nor inquire into."</p> + +<p>Lady Level shook her head defiantly. "I mean to do it."</p> + +<p>"I will not hear another word upon this point," said Mr. Ravensworth +sternly. "You are as yet not much more than a child, young lady; when +you are a little older and wiser, you will see how foolish such ideas +are. For your own sake, Blanche, put them away from you."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[278}</span></p> + +<p>"I wish my dear brother Tom were here!" she petulantly returned. "It +was a shame his regiment should be sent out to India!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth drew in his stern lips. He had suspected that of the +dreadful fate of Tom Heriot she must still be ignorant. The suspicion +was now confirmed.</p> + +<p>At that moment the steward, Mr. Drewitt, appeared; and Lady Level +introduced him by name. Mr. Ravensworth saw a pale, venerable man of +sixty years, still strong and upright, looking like a gentleman of the +old, old school, in his plum-coloured suit and white silk stockings, +his silver knee-buckles, his low shoes, and his voluminous cambric +shirt-frill. He brought a message from his lord, who wished to see Mr. +Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"Who told his lordship that Mr. Ravensworth was here?" exclaimed Lady +Level quickly.</p> + +<p>"Madam, it was I. My lord heard someone being shown in to your +ladyship, and inquired who had come. I am sorry he has asked for you, +sir," candidly added the<span class="pagenum">[279}</span> steward, as they left the room together. +"The fever has abated, but the least excitement will bring it on +again."</p> + +<p>Lady Level was sorry also. She did not care that Mr. Ravensworth's +presence in the house should be known upstairs. The fact was that one +day when she and her husband were on their homeward journey from +Savoy, and Blanche was indulging in odds and ends of grievances +against her lord, as in her ill-feeling towards him she was then +taking to do, she had spoken a few words in sheer perverseness of +spirit to make him jealous of Arnold Ravensworth. Lord Level said +nothing, but he took the words to heart. He had not liked that +gentleman before; he hated him now. Blanche blushed for herself as she +recalled it.</p> + +<p>Of course, it was not the visitor likely to give most pleasure to Lord +Level. As the steward introduced Mr. Ravensworth and left them +together, Lord Level regarded him with a cold, stern glance.</p> + +<p>"So it is you!" he exclaimed. "May I<span class="pagenum">[280}</span> ask what brings you down here? +Did my lady send for you?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Mr. Ravensworth, advancing towards the bed. "Major +Carlen called at my house this morning and requested me to come down. +I could not reach Marshdale before to-night."</p> + +<p>"Major Carlen? Oh! very good. Major Carlen dare not interfere between +me and my wife; and he knows that."</p> + +<p>"So far as I believe, Major Carlen has no intention or wish to +interfere. Lady Level sent to him in her alarm, and he requested me to +come down in his place."</p> + +<p>"If Major Carlen has entered into an arrangement with you to come to +my house and pry into matters that concern myself alone——"</p> + +<p>"I beg your lordship's pardon," was the curt interruption. "I do not +like or respect Major Carlen sufficiently well to enter into any +'arrangement' with him. I came down here, certainly in compliance with +his desire, but in a spirit of kindness towards<span class="pagenum">[281}</span> Lady Level, and to be +of assistance to yourself if it were possible."</p> + +<p>"How came you to bring Lady Level over from Germany?"</p> + +<p>"She wished to come over."</p> + +<p>"And I wished and desired her to stay there until I could join her. Do +you call <i>that</i> interference?"</p> + +<p>"It was nothing of the kind. On the morning of our departure from the +inn, Lady Level told my wife and myself that she should take the +opportunity to travel with us. She and her servants were even then +dressed for the journey, and her travelling-carriage stood ready +packed in the yard. If she did this against your wish, I am in no way +responsible for it. It was not my place to dictate to her; to say she +should go, or should remain. Be assured, my lord, I am the last man in +the world unduly to interfere with other people; and my coming down +now was entirely brought about by Major Carlen."</p> + +<p>Lord Level was not insensible to reason.<span class="pagenum">[282}</span> He remained silent for a +time, the angry expression gradually leaving his face. Mr. Ravensworth +spoke:</p> + +<p>"I hope this injury to your lordship will not prove a grave one."</p> + +<p>"It is a trifle," was the answer; "nothing but a trifle. It is my knee +that keeps me prostrate here more than anything else; and I have +intermittent fever with it."</p> + +<p>"Can I be of service to you? If so, command me."</p> + +<p>"Much obliged. No, I do not want anyone to be of service to me, if you +allude to this stabbing business. Some drunken fellow got in, and——"</p> + +<p>"The servants say the doors were all left fastened, and were so +found."</p> + +<p>"The servants say so to conceal their carelessness," cried Lord Level, +as a contortion of pain crossed his face. "This knee gives me twinges +at times like a red-hot iron."</p> + +<p>"If anyone had broken in, especially any——"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ravensworth," imperatively interrupted<span class="pagenum">[283}</span> Lord Level, "it is my +pleasure that this affair should not be investigated. I say that some +man got in—a poacher, probably, who must have been the worse for +drink—and he attacked me, not knowing what he was doing. To have a +commotion made over it would only excite me in my present feverish +condition. Therefore I shall put up with the injury, and shall be well +all the sooner for doing so. You will be so obliging," he added, some +sarcasm in his tone, "as to do the same."</p> + +<p>But now, Mr. Ravensworth did not show himself wise in that moment. He +urged, in all good faith, a different course upon his lordship. The +presumption angered and excited Lord Level. In no time, as it seemed, +and without sufficient cause, the fever returned and mounted to the +brain. His face grew crimson, his eye wild; his voice rose almost to a +scream, and he flung his uninjured arm about the bed. Mr. Ravensworth, +in self-reproach for what he had done, looked for the bell and rang +it.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[284}</span></p> + +<p>"Drewitt, are the doors fastened?" raved his lordship in delirium, as +the steward hastened in. "Do you hear me, Drewitt? Have you looked to +the doors? You must have left one of them open! Where are the keys? +The keys, I say, Drewitt!—What brings that man here?"</p> + +<p>"You had better go down, sir, out of his sight," whispered the +steward, for it was at Mr. Ravensworth the invalid was excitedly +pointing. "I knew what it would be if he began talking. And he was so +much better!"</p> + +<p>"His lordship excites himself for nothing," was the deprecating +answer.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," said Mr. Drewitt. "It is the nature of +fever-patients to do so."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Edwards came in with appliances to cool the heated head, and Mr. +Ravensworth returned to the sitting-room below. Blanche was not there. +Close upon that, Dr. Macferraty called. After he had been with his +patient and dressed the wounds, he came bustling into the +sitting-room. This loud<span class="pagenum">[285}</span> young man had a nose that turned straight up, +giving an impudent look to the face, and wide-open, round green eyes. +But no doubt he had his good points, and was a skilful surgeon.</p> + +<p>"You are a friend of the family, I hear, sir," he began. "I hope you +intend to order an investigation into this extraordinary affair?"</p> + +<p>"I have no authority for doing so. And Lord Level does not wish it +done."</p> + +<p>"A fig for Lord Level! He does not know what he's saying," cried Dr. +Macferraty. "There never was so monstrous a thing heard of as that a +nobleman should be stabbed in his own bed and the assassin be let off +scot-free! We need not look far for the culprit!"</p> + +<p>The last words, significantly spoken, jarred on Mr. Ravensworth's +ears. "Have you a suspicion?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I can put two and two together, sir, and find they make four. The +windows were fast; the doors were fast; there was<span class="pagenum">[286}</span> no noise, no +disturbance, no robbery: well, then, what deduction have we to fall +back upon but that the villain, he or she, is an inmate of the house?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth's pulses beat a shade more quickly. "Do you suspect +one of the servants?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do."</p> + +<p>"But the servants are faithful and respectable. They are not suspected +indoors, I assure you."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not; they are out-of-doors, though. The whole neighbourhood +is in commotion over it; and how Drewitt and the old lady can let +these two London servants be at large is the talk of the place."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is the London servants you suspect, then, or one of them?"</p> + +<p>"Look here," said Dr. Macferraty, dropping his voice and bending +forward in his chair till his face almost touched Mr. Ravensworth's: +"that the deed was done by an inmate of the house is <i>certain</i>. No one +got<span class="pagenum">[287}</span> in, or could have got in; it is nonsense to suggest it. The +inmates consist of Lady Level and the servants only. If you take it +from the servants, you must lay it upon her."</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"Well," went on the doctor, "it is impossible to suspect <i>her</i>. A +delicate, refined girl, as she is, could not do so evil a thing. So we +must needs look to the servants. Deborah would not do it; the stout +old cook could not. She was in bed ill, besides, and slept through all +the noise and confusion. The two other servants, Sanders and Timms, +are strangers."</p> + +<p>"I feel sure they no more did it than I," impulsively spoke Mr. +Ravensworth.</p> + +<p>"Then you would fall back upon Lady Level?"</p> + +<p>"No. No," flashed Mr. Ravensworth. "The bare suggestion of the idea is +an insult to her."</p> + +<p>Dr. Macferraty drew himself back in his chair. "There's a mystery in +the affair,<span class="pagenum">[288}</span> look at it which way you will, sir," he cried raspingly. +"My lord says he did not recognise the assassin; but, if he did not, +why should he forbid investigation? Put it as you do, that the two +servants are innocent—why, then, I fairly own I am puzzled. Another +thing puzzles me: the knife was found in Lady Level's chamber, yet she +protests that she slept through it all—was only awakened by his +lordship calling to her when it was over."</p> + +<p>"It may have been flung in."</p> + +<p>"No; it was carried in; for blood had dripped from it all along the +floor."</p> + +<p>"Has the weapon been recognised?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I am aware of. No one owns to knowing it. Anyway, it is an +affair that ought to be, and that must be, inquired into officially," +concluded the doctor from the corridor, as he said good-night and went +bustling out.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth, standing at the sitting-room door, saw him meet the +steward, who must have overheard the words, and now<span class="pagenum">[289}</span> advanced with +cautious steps. Touching Mr. Ravensworth's arm, he drew him within the +shadow cast by a remote corner.</p> + +<p>"Sir," he whispered, "my lady told Mrs. Edwards that you were a firm +friend of hers; a sure friend?"</p> + +<p>"I trust I am, Mr. Drewitt."</p> + +<p>"Then let it drop, sir; it is no common robber who has done this. Let +it drop, for her sake and my lord's."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth felt painfully perplexed. Those few words, spoken by +the faithful old steward, were more fraught with suspicion against +Lady Level than anything he had yet heard.</p> + +<p>Returning to the sitting-room, pacing it to and fro in his perplexity +for he knew not how long, he was looking at his watch to ascertain the +time, when Lady Level came in. She had been in Lord Level's +sitting-room upstairs, she said, the one opposite his bed-chamber. He +was somewhat calmer now. Mr. Ravensworth thought that he must now be +going.</p><p><span class="pagenum">[290}</span></p> + +<p>"I have been of no assistance to you, Lady Level; I do not see that I +can be of any," he observed. "But should anything arise in which you +think I can help you, send for me."</p> + +<p>"What do you expect to arise?" she hastily inquired.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I expect nothing."</p> + +<p>"Did Lord——" Lady Level suddenly stopped and turned her head. Just +within the room stood two policemen. She rose with a startled +movement, and shrank close to Mr. Ravensworth, crying out, as for +protection. "Arnold! Arnold!"</p> + +<p>"Do not agitate yourself," he whispered. "What is it that you want?" +he demanded, moving towards the men.</p> + +<p>"We have come about this attack on Lord Level, sir," replied one of +them.</p> + +<p>"Who sent for you?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know anything about that, sir. Our superior ordered us here, +and is coming on himself. We must examine the fastenings of this +window, sir, by the lady's leave."</p><p><span class="pagenum">[291}</span></p> + +<p>They passed up the room, and Lady Level left it, followed by Mr. +Ravensworth. Outside stood Deborah, aghast.</p> + +<p>"They have been in the kitchen this ten minutes, my lady," she +whispered, "asking questions of us all—Mr. Sanders and Mrs. Timms and +me and cook, all separate. And now they are going round the house to +search it, and see to the fastenings."</p> + +<p>The men came out again and moved away, Deborah following slowly in +their wake: she appeared to regard them with somewhat of the curiosity +we give to a wild animal: but Mr. Ravensworth recalled her. Lady Level +entered the room again and sat down by the fire. Mr. Ravensworth again +observed that he must be going: he had barely time to walk to the +station and catch the train.</p> + +<p>"Arnold, if you go, and leave me with these men in the house, I will +never forgive it!" she passionately uttered.</p> + +<p>He looked at her in surprise. "I thought you wished for the presence +of the police.<span class="pagenum">[292}</span> You said you should regard them as a protection."</p> + +<p>"Did <i>you</i> send for them?" she breathlessly exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not."</p> + +<p>She sank into a reverie—a deep, unpleasant reverie that compressed +her lips and contracted her brow. Suddenly she lifted her head.</p> + +<p>"He is my husband, after all, Arnold."</p> + +<p>"To be sure he is."</p> + +<p>"And therefore—and therefore—there had better be no investigation."</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, scarcely above his breath.</p> + +<p>"Because he does not wish it," she answered, bending her face +downwards. "He forbade me to call in aid, or to suffer it to be called +in; and, as I say, he is my husband. Will you stop those men in their +search? will you send them away?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think I have power to do so."</p> + +<p>"You can forbid them in Lord Level's<span class="pagenum">[293}</span> name. I give you full authority: +as he would do, were he capable of acting. Arnold, I <i>will</i> have them +out of the house. I <i>will</i>."</p> + +<p>"What is it that you fear from them?"</p> + +<p>"I fear—I cannot tell you what I fear. They might question me."</p> + +<p>"And if they did?—you can only repeat to them what you told me."</p> + +<p>"No, it must not be," she shivered. "I—I—dare not let it be."</p> + +<p>Mr. Ravensworth paused. "Blanche," he said, in low tones, "have you +told me all?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," she slowly answered.</p> + +<p>"'Perhaps!'"</p> + +<p>"There!" she exclaimed, springing up in wild excitement. "I hear those +men upstairs, and you stand here idly talking! Order them away in Lord +Level's name."</p> + +<p>Desperately perplexed, Mr. Ravensworth flew to the stairs. The +steward, pale and agitated, met him half-way up. "It must not be +looked into by the police," he whispered. "Sir, it must not. Will you<span class="pagenum">[294}</span> +speak to them? you may have more weight with them than I. Say you are +a friend of my lord's. I strongly suspect this is the work of that +meddling Macferraty."</p> + +<p>Arnold Ravensworth moved forward as one in a dream, an under-current +of thought asking what all this mystery meant. The steward followed. +They found the men in one of the first rooms: not engaged in the +examination of its fastenings or its closets (and the whole house +abounded in closets and cupboards), but with their heads together, +talking in whispers.</p> + +<p>In answer to Mr. Ravensworth's peremptory demand, made in Lord Level's +name, that the search should cease and the house be freed of their +presence, they civilly replied that they must not leave, but would +willingly retire to the kitchen and there await their superior +officer, who was on his road to the house: and they went down +accordingly. Mr. Ravensworth returned to the sitting-room to acquaint +Lady Level with the fact, but found she had disappeared. In a moment<span class="pagenum">[295}</span> +she came in, scared, her hands lifted in dismay, her breath coming in +gasps.</p> + +<p>"Give me air!" she cried, rushing to the window and motioning to have +it opened. "I shall faint; I shall die."</p> + +<p>"What ever is the matter?" questioned Mr. Ravensworth, as he succeeded +in undoing the bolt of the window, and throwing up its middle +compartment. At that moment a loud ring came to the outer gate. It +increased her terror, and she broke into a flood of tears.</p> + +<p>"My dear young lady, let me be your friend," he said in his grave +concern. "Tell me the whole truth. I know you have not done so yet. +Let it be what it will, I promise to—if possible—shield you from +harm."</p> + +<p>"Those men are saying in the kitchen that it was I who attacked Lord +Level; I overheard them," she shuddered, the words coming from her +brokenly in her agitation.</p> + +<p>"Make a friend of me; you shall never have a truer," he continued, for +really he knew not what else to urge, and he could<span class="pagenum">[296}</span> not work in the +dark. "Tell me all from beginning to end."</p> + +<p>But she only shivered in silence.</p> + +<p>"Blanche!—did—you—do—it?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered, with a low burst of heartrending sobs. "<i>But I saw +it done.</i>"</p> + +<p class="h3">END OF VOL. I.</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h6">BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD.</p> + +<p class="h6"><i>S. & H.</i></p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="trnote"> +<p class="h3">Transcriber's Notes:</p> + +<p>Inconsistent and archaic spelling retained.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Charles Strange Vol. 1 +(of 3), by Mrs. Henry Wood + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE *** + +***** This file should be named 38623-h.htm or 38623-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/6/2/38623/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: The Story of Charles Strange Vol. 1 (of 3) + A Novel + +Author: Mrs. Henry Wood + +Release Date: January 20, 2012 [EBook #38623] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE + + A Novel + + BY + + MRS. HENRY WOOD + + AUTHOR OF "EAST LYNNE," ETC. + + IN THREE VOLUMES + + VOL. I. + + LONDON + + RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON + Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen + 1888 + [_All Rights Reserved_] + + + + + CONTENTS OF VOL. I + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. EARLY DAYS 1 + + II. CHANGES 21 + + III. MR. SERJEANT STILLINGFAR 47 + + IV. IN ESSEX STREET 73 + + V. WATTS'S WIFE 95 + + VI. BLANCHE HERIOT 114 + + VII. TRIED AT THE OLD BAILEY 144 + + VIII. THE VINE-COVERED COTTAGE AT PISA 175 + + IX. COMPLICATIONS 194 + + X. THE HOUSE AT MARSHDALE 216 + + XI. THE QUARREL 244 + + XII. MYSTERY 274 + + + + +THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +EARLY DAYS. + + +I, Charles Strange, have called this my own story, and shall myself +tell a portion of it to the reader; not all. + + * * * * * + +May was quickly passing. The drawing-room window of White Littleham +Rectory stood open to the sunshine and the summer air: for the years +of warm springs and long summers had not then left the land. The +incumbent of the parish of White Littleham, in Hampshire, was the +Reverend Eustace Strange. On a sofa, near the window, lay his wife, in +her white dress and yellow silk shawl. A young and lovely lady, with a +sweet countenance; her eyes the colour of blue-bells, her face growing +more transparent day by day, her cheeks too often a fatal hectic; +altogether looking so delicately fragile that the Rector must surely +be blind not to suspect the truth. _She_ suspected it. Nay, she no +longer suspected; she knew. Perhaps it was that he would not do so. + +"Charley!" + +I sat at the end of the room in my little state chair, reading a new +book of fairy tales that papa had given me that morning. He was as +orthodox a divine as ever lived, but not strait-laced, and he liked +children to read fairy tales. At the moment I was deep in a tale +called "Finetta," about a young princess shut up in a high tower. To +me it was enchanting. + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Come to me, dear." + +Leaving the precious book behind me, I crossed the room to the sofa. +My mother raised herself. Holding me to her with one hand, she pushed +with the other the hair from my face and gazed into it. That my face +was very much like hers, I knew. It had been said a hundred times in +my hearing that I had her dark-blue eyes and her soft brown hair and +her well-carved features. + +"My pretty boy," she said caressingly, "I am so sorry! I fear you are +disappointed. I think we might have had them. You were always promised +a birthday party, you know, when you should be seven years old." + +There had been some discussion about it. My mother thought the little +boys and girls might come; but papa and Leah said, "No--it would +fatigue her." + +"I don't mind a bit, mamma," I answered. "I have my book, and it is so +pretty. They can come next year, you know, when you are well again." + +She sighed deeply. Getting up from the sofa, she took up two books +that were on the stand behind her, and sat down again. Early in the +spring some illness had seized her that I did not understand. She +ought to have been well again by this time, but was not so. She left +her room and came downstairs, and saw friends when they called: but +instead of growing stronger she grew weaker. + +"She was never robust, and it has been too much for her," I overheard +Leah say to one of the other servants, in allusion to the illness. + +"What if I should not be here at your next birthday, Charley?" she +asked sadly, holding me to her side as she sat. + +"But where should you be, mamma?" + +"Well, my child, I think--sometimes I think--that by that time I may +be in heaven." + +I felt suddenly seized with a sort of shivering. I neither spoke nor +cried; at seven years old many a child only imperfectly realizes the +full meaning of anything like this. My eyes became misty. + +"Don't cry, Charley. All that God does must be for the best, you know: +and heaven is a better world than this." + +"Oh, mamma, you must get well; you must!" I cried, words and tears +bursting forth together. "Won't you come out, and grow strong in the +sunshine? See how warm and bright it is! Look at the flowers in the +grass!" + +"Ay, dear; it is all very bright and warm and beautiful," she said, +looking across the garden to the field beyond it. "The grass is +growing long, and the buttercups and cowslips and blue-bells are all +there. Soon they will be cut down and the field will be bare. Next +year the grass and the flowers will spring up again, Charlie: but we, +once we are taken, will spring up no more in this world: only in +heaven." + +"But don't you think you _will_ get well, mamma? Can't you _try_ to?" + +"Well, dear--yes, I will try to do so. I _have_ tried. I am trying +every day, Charley, for I should not like to go away and leave my +little boy." + +With a long sigh, that it seemed to me I often heard from her now, she +lay for a moment with her head on the back of the sofa and closed her +eyes. Then she sat forward again, and took up one of the books. + +"I meant to give you a little book to-day, Charley, as well as papa. +Look, it is called 'Sintram.' A lady gave it me when I was twelve +years old; and I have always liked it. You are too young to understand +it yet, but you will do so later." + +"Here's some poetry!" I cried, turning the leaves over. The +pleasure of the gift had chased away my tears. Young minds are +impressionable--and had she not just said she would try to get well? + +"I will repeat it to you, Charley," she answered. "Listen." + +"Repeat it?" I interrupted. "Do you know it by heart?--all?" + +"Yes, all; every line of it. + + "'When death is drawing near, + And thy heart sinks with fear, + And thy limbs fail, + Then raise thy hands and pray + To Him who cheers the way, + Through the dark vale. + + "'See'st thou the eastern dawn? + Hear'st thou, in the red morn, + The angels' song? + Oh! lift thy drooping head, + Thou who in gloom and dread + Hast lain so long. + + "'Death comes to set thee free; + Oh! meet him cheerily, + As thy true friend; + And all thy fears shall cease, + And in eternal peace + Thy penance end.' + +You see, Charley, death comes not as a foe, but as a friend to those +who have learnt to look for him, for he is sent by God," she continued +in a loving voice as she smoothed back my hair with her gentle hand. +"I want you to learn this bit of poetry by heart, and to say it +sometimes to yourself in future years. And--and--should mamma have +gone away, then it will be pleasant to you to remember that the +angels' song came to cheer her--as I know it will come--when she was +setting out on her journey. Oh! very pleasant! and the same song and +the same angel will cheer your departure, my darling child, when the +appointed hour for it shall come to you." + +"Shall we _see_ the angel?" + +"Well--yes--with the eye of faith. And it is said that some good +people have really seen him; have seen the radiant messenger who has +come to take them to the eternal shores. You will learn it, Charley, +won't you--and never forget it?" + +"I'll learn it all, every verse; and I will never forget it, mamma." + +"I am going to give you this book, also, Charley," she went on, +bringing forward the other. "You----" + +"Why, that's your Bible, mamma!" + +"Yes, dear, it is my Bible; but I should like it to be yours. And I +hope it will be as good a friend to you as it is now to me. I shall +still use it myself, Charley, for a little while. You will lend it me, +won't you? and later, it will be all your own." + +"Shall you buy another for yourself, then?" + +She did not answer. Her face was turned to the window; her yearning +eyes were fixed in thought upon the blue sky; her hot hands were +holding mine. In a moment, to my consternation, she bent her face upon +mine and burst into a flood of tears. What I should have said or done, +I know not; but at that moment my father came swiftly out of his +study, into the room. He was a rather tall man with a pale, grave +face, very much older than his wife. + +"Do you chance to remember, Lucy, where that catalogue of books was +put that came last week? I want----" + +Thus far had he spoken, when he saw the state of things; both crying +together. He broke off in vexation. + +"How can you be so silly, Lucy--so imprudent! I will not have it. You +don't allow yourself a chance to get well--giving way to these low +spirits! What is the matter?" + +"It is nothing," she replied, with another of those long sighs. "I was +talking a little to Charley, and a fit of crying came on. It has not +harmed me, Eustace." + +"Charley, boy, I saw some fresh sweet violets down in the dingle this +morning. Go you and pick some for mamma," he said. "Never mind your +hat: it is as warm as midsummer." + +I was ready for the dingle, which was only across the field, and to +pick violets at any time, and I ran out. Leah Williams was coming in +at the garden gate. + +"Now, Master Charles! Where are you off to? And without your hat!" + +"I'm going to the dingle, to get some fresh violets for mamma. Papa +said my hat did not matter." + +"Oh," said Leah, glancing doubtfully at the window. I glanced too. He +had sat down on the sofa by mamma then, and was talking to her +earnestly, his head bent. She had her handkerchief up to her face. +Leah attacked me again. + +"You've been crying, you naughty boy! Your eyes are wet still. What +was that for?" + +I did not say what: though I had much ado to keep the tears from +falling. "Leah," I whispered, "do you think mamma will get well?" + +"Bless the child!" she exclaimed, after a pause, during which she had +looked again at the window and back at me. "Why, what's to hinder +it?--with all this fine, beautiful warm weather! Don't you turn +fanciful, Master Charley, there's a darling! And when you've picked +the violets, you come to me; I'll find a slice of cake for you." + +Leah had been with us about two years, as upper servant, attending +upon mamma and me, and doing the sewing. She was between twenty and +thirty then, an upright, superior young woman, kind in the main, +though with rather a hard face, and faithful as the day. The other +servants called her Mrs. Williams, for she had been married and was a +widow. Not tall, she yet looked so, she was so remarkably thin. Her +gray eyes were deep-set, her curls were black, and she had a high, +fresh colour. Everyone, gentle and simple, wore curls at that time. + +The violets were there in the dingle, sure enough; both blue and +white. I picked a handful, ran in with them, and put them on my +mother's lap. The Rector was sitting by her still, but he got up then. + +"Oh, Charley, they are very sweet," she said with a smile--"very sweet +and lovely. Thank you, my precious boy, my darling." + +She kissed me a hundred times. She might have kissed me a hundred +more, but papa drew me away. + +"Do not tire yourself any more to-day, Lucy; it is not good for you. +Charley, boy, you can take your fairy tales and show them to Leah." + + * * * * * + +The day of the funeral will never fade from my memory; and yet I can +only recall some of its incidents. What impressed me most was that +papa did not stand at the grave in his surplice reading the service, +as I had seen him do at other funerals. Another clergyman was in his +place, and he stood by me in silence, holding my hand. And he told me, +after we returned home, that mamma was not herself in the cold dark +grave, but a happy angel in heaven looking down upon me. + +And so the time went on. Papa was more grave than of yore, and taught +me my lessons daily. Leah indulged and scolded me alternately, often +sang to me, for she had a clear voice, and when she was in a good +humour would let me read "Sintram" and the fairy tales to her. + +The interest of mamma's money--which was now mine--brought in three +hundred a year. She had enjoyed it all; I was to have (or, rather, my +father for me) just as much of it as the two trustees chose to allow, +for it was strictly tied up in their hands. When I was twenty-four +years of age--not before--the duties of the trustees would cease, and +the whole sum, six thousand pounds, would come into my uncontrolled +possession. One of the trustees was my mother's uncle, Mr. Serjeant +Stillingfar; the other I did not know. Of course the reader will +understand that I do not explain these matters from my knowledge at +that time; but from what I learnt when I was older. + + * * * * * + +Nearly a year had gone by, and it was warm spring weather again. I sat +in my brown-holland dress in the dingle amidst the wild flowers. A lot +of cowslips lay about me; I had been picking the flowers from the +stalks to make into a ball. The sunlight flickered through the trees, +still in their tender green; the sky was blue and cloudless. My straw +hat, with broad black ribbons, had fallen off; my white socks and +shoes were stretched out before me. Fashion is always in extremes. +Then it was the custom to dress a child simply up to quite an +advanced age. + +Why it should have been so, I know not; but while I sat, there came +over me a sudden remembrance of the day when I had come to the dingle +to pick those violets for mamma, and a rush of tears came on. Leah +took good care of me, but she was not my mother. My father was good, +and grave, and kind, but he did not give me the love that she had +given. A mother's love would never be mine again, and I knew it; and +in that moment was bitterly feeling it. + +One end of the string was held between my teeth, the other end in my +left hand, and my eyes were wet with tears. I strung the cowslips as +well as I could. But it was not easy, and I made little progress. + +"S'all I hold it for oo?" + +Lifting my eyes in surprise--for I had thought the movement in the +dingle was only Leah, coming to see after me--there stood the sweetest +fairy of a child before me. The sleeves of her cotton frock and white +pinafore were tied up with black ribbons; her face was delicately +fair, her eyes were blue as the sky, and her light curls fell low on +her pretty neck. My child heart went out to her with a bound, then and +there. + +"What oo trying for, 'ittle boy?" + +"I was crying for mamma. She's gone away from me to heaven." + +"S'all I tiss oo?" + +And she put her little arms round my neck, without waiting for +permission, and gave me a dozen kisses. + +"Now we make the ball, 'ittle boy. S'all oo dive it to me?" + +"Yes, I will give it to you. What is your name?" + +"Baby. What is oors?" + +"Charles. Do you----" + +"You little toad of a monkey!--giving me this hunt! How came you to +run away?" + +The words were spoken by a tall, handsome boy, quite old compared with +me, who had come dashing through the dingle. He caught up the child +and began kissing her fondly. So the words were not meant to hurt her. + +"It was oo ran away, Tom." + +"But I ordered you to stop where I left you--and to sit still till I +came back again. If you run away by yourself in the wood, you'll meet +a great bear some day and he'll eat you up. Mind that, Miss Blanche. +The mamsie is in a fine way; thinks you're lost, you silly little +thing." + +"Dat 'towslip ball for me, Tom." + +Master Tom condescended to turn his attention upon me and the ball. I +guessed now who they were: a family named Heriot, who had recently +come to live at the pretty white cottage on the other side the copse. +Tom was looking at me with his fine dark eyes. + +"You are the parson's son, I take it, youngster. I saw you in the +parson's pew on Sunday with an old woman." + +"She is not an old woman," I said, jealous for Leah. + +"A young one, then. What's your name?" + +"Charles Strange." + +"He dot no mamma, he try for her," put in the child. "Oo come to my +mamma, ittle boy; she love oo and tiss oo." + +"When I have made your ball." + +"Oh, bother the ball!" put in Tom. "We can't wait for that: the +mamsie's in a rare way already. You can come home with us if you like, +youngster, and finish your ball afterwards." + +Leaving the cowslips, I caught up my hat and we started, Tom carrying +the child. I was a timid, sensitive little fellow, but took courage to +ask him a question. + +"Is your name Tom Heriot?" + +"Well, yes, it _is_ Tom Heriot--if it does you any good to know it. +And this is Miss Blanche Heriot. And I wish you were a bit bigger and +older; I'd make you my playfellow." + +We were through the copse in a minute or two and in sight of the white +cottage, over the field beyond it. Mrs. Heriot stood at the garden +gate, looking out. She was a pretty little plump woman, with a soft +voice, and wore a widow's cap. A servant in a check apron was with +her, and knew me. Mrs. Heriot scolded Blanche for running away from +Tom while she caressed her, and turned to smile at me. + +"It is little Master Strange," I heard the maid say to her. "He lost +his mother a year ago." + +"Oh, poor little fellow!" sighed Mrs. Heriot, as she held me before +her and kissed me twice. "What a nice little lad it is!--what lovely +eyes! My dear, you can come here whenever you like, and play with Tom +and Blanche." + +Some few years before, this lady had married Colonel Heriot, a widower +with one little boy--Thomas. After that, Blanche was born: so that she +and Tom were, you see, only half-brother-and sister. When Blanche was +two years old--she was three now--Colonel Heriot died, and Mrs. Heriot +had come into the country to economize. She was not at all well off; +had, indeed, little beyond what was allowed her with the two children: +all their father's fortune had lapsed to them, and she had no control +over it. Tom had more than Blanche, and was to be brought up for a +soldier. + +As we stood in a group outside the gate, papa came by. Seeing me, he +naturally stopped, took off his hat to Mrs. Heriot, and spoke. That is +how the acquaintanceship began, without formal introduction on either +side. Taking the pretty little girl in his arms, he began talking to +her: for he was very fond of children. Mrs. Heriot said something to +him in a low, feeling tone about his wife's death. + +"Yes," he sighed in answer, as he put down the child: "I shall never +recover her loss. I live only in the hope of rejoining her THERE." + +He glanced up at the blue sky: the pure, calm, peaceful canopy of +heaven. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +CHANGES. + + +"I shall never recover her loss. I live only in the hope of rejoining +her THERE." + +It has been said that the vows of lovers are ephemeral as characters +written on the sand of the sea-shore. Surely may this also be said of +the regrets mourners give to the departed! For time has a habit of +soothing the deepest sorrow; and the remembrance which is piercing our +hearts so poignantly to-day in a few short months will have lost its +sting. + +My father was quite sincere when speaking the above words: meant and +believed them to the very letter. Yet before the spring and summer +flowers had given place to those of autumn, he had taken unto himself +another wife: Mrs. Heriot. + +The first intimation of what was in contemplation came to me from +Leah. I had offended her one day; done something wrong, or not done +something right; and she fell upon me with a stern reproach, +especially accusing me of ingratitude. + +"After all my care of you, Master Charles--my anxiety and trouble to +keep your clothes nice and make you good! What shall you do when I +have gone away?" + +"But you are not going away, Leah." + +"I don't know that. We are to have changes here, it seems, and I'm not +sure that they will suit me." + +"What changes?" I asked. + +She sat at the nursery window, which had the same aspect as the +drawing-room below, darning my socks; I knelt on a chair, looking out. +It was a rainy day, and the drops pattered thickly against the panes. + +"Well, there's going to be--some company in the house," said Leah, +taking her own time to answer me. "A _lot_ of them. And I think +perhaps there'll be no room for me." + +"Oh, yes there will. Who is it, Leah?" + +"I shouldn't wonder but it's those people over yonder," pointing her +long darning-needle in the direction of the dingle. + +"There's nothing there but mosses and trees, Leah. No people." + +"There _is_ a little farther off," nodded Leah. "There's Mrs. Heriot +and her two children." + +"Oh, do you say they are coming here!--do you mean it?" I cried in +ecstasy. "Are they coming for a long visit, Leah?--to have breakfast +here, and dine and sleep? Oh, how glad I am!" + +"Ah!" groaned Leah; "perhaps you may be glad just at first; you are +but a little shallow-sensed boy, Charley: but it may turn out for +better, or it may turn out for worse." + +To my intense astonishment, she dropped her work, burst into tears, +and threw her hands up to her face. I felt very uncomfortable. + +"What is it, Leah?" + +"Well, it is that I'm a silly," she answered, looking up and drying +her eyes. "I got thinking of the past, Master Charley, of your dear +mamma, and all that. It _is_ solitary for you here, and perhaps you'll +be happier with some playfellows." + +I went on staring at her. + +"And look here, Master Charles, don't repeat what I've said; not to +anybody, mind; or perhaps they won't come at all," concluded Leah, +administering a slight shaking by way of enforcing her command. + +There came a day--it was in that same week--when everything seemed to +go wrong, as far as I was concerned. I had been at warfare with Leah +in the morning, and was so inattentive (I suppose) at lessons in the +afternoon that papa scolded me, and gave me an extra Latin exercise to +do when they were over, and shut me up in the study until it was +done. Then Leah refused jam for tea, which I wanted; saying that jam +was meant for good boys, not for naughty ones. Altogether I was in +anything but an enviable mood when I went out later into the garden. +The most cruel item in the whole was that I could not see _I_ had been +to blame, but thought everyone else was. The sun had set behind the +trees of the dingle in a red ball of fire as I climbed into my +favourite seat--the fork of the pear-tree. Papa had gone to attend a +vestry meeting; the little bell of the church was tinkling out, giving +notice of the meeting to the parish. + +Presently the bell ceased; solitary silence ensued both to eye and +ear. The brightness of the atmosphere was giving place to the shades +of approaching evening; the trees were putting on their melancholy. I +have always thought--I always shall think--that nothing can be more +depressing than the indescribable melancholy which trees in a +solitary spot seem to put on after sunset. All people do not feel +this; but to those who, like myself, see it, it brings a sensation of +loneliness, nay, of _awe_, that is strangely painful. + +"Ho-ho! So you are up there again, young Charley!" + +The garden-gate had swung back to admit Tom Heriot. In hastening down +from the tree--for he had a way of tormenting me when in it--I somehow +lost my balance and fell on to the grass. Tom shrieked out with +laughter, and made off again. + +The fall was nothing--though my ankle ached; but at these untoward +moments a little smart causes a great pain. It seemed to me that I was +smarting all over, inside and out, mentally and bodily; and I sat down +on the bench near the bed of shrubs, and burst into tears. + +Sweet shrubs were they. Lavender and rosemary, old-man and +sweet-briar, marjoram and lemon-thyme, musk and verbena; and others, +no doubt. Mamma had had them all planted there. She would sit with me +where I was now sitting alone, under the syringa trees, and revel in +the perfume. In spring-time those sweet syringa blossoms would +surround us; she loved their scent better than any other. Bitterly I +cried, thinking of all this, and of her. + +Again the gate opened, more gently this time, and Mrs. Heriot came in +looking round. "Thomas," she called out--and then she saw me. +"Charley, dear, has Tom been here? He ran away from me.--Why, my dear +little boy, what is the matter?" For she had seen the tears falling. + +They fell faster than ever at the question. She came up, sat down on +the bench, and drew my face lovingly to her. I thought then--I think +still--that Mrs. Heriot was one of the kindest, gentlest women that +ever breathed. I don't believe she ever in her whole life said a sharp +word to anyone. + +Not liking to tell of my naughtiness--which I still attributed to +others--or of the ignominious fall from the pear-tree, I sobbed forth +something about mamma. + +"If she had not gone away and left me alone," I said, "I should never +have been unhappy, or--or cried. People were not cross with me when +she was here." + +"My darling, I know how lonely it is for you. Would you like me to +come here and be your mamma?" she caressingly whispered. + +"You could not be that," I dissented. "Mamma's up there." + +Mrs. Heriot glanced up at the evening sky. "Yes, Charley, she is up +there, with God; and she looks down, I feel sure, at you, and at what +is being done for you. If I came home here I should try to take care +of you as she would have done. And oh, my child, I should love you +dearly." + +"In her place?" I asked, feeling puzzled. + +"In her place, Charley. _For her._" + +Tom burst in at the gate again. He began telling his stepmother of my +fall as he danced a war-dance on the grass, and asked me how many of +my legs and wings were broken. + + * * * * * + +They came to the Rectory: Mrs. Heriot--she was Mrs. Strange then--and +Tom and Baby. After all, Leah did not leave. She grew reconciled to +the new state of things in no time, and became as fond of the children +as she was of me. As fond, at least, of Tom. I don't know that she +ever cared heartily for Blanche: the little lady had a haughty face, +and sometimes a haughty way with her. + +We were all as happy as the day was long. Mrs. Strange indulged us +all. Tom was a dreadful pickle--it was what the servants called him; +but they all adored him. He was a handsome, generous, reckless boy, +two years older than myself in years, twice two in height and +advancement. He teased Leah's life out of her; but the more he teased, +the better she liked him. He teased Blanche, he teased me; though he +would have gone through fire and water for either of us, ay, and laid +down his life any moment to save ours. He was everlastingly in +mischief indoors or out. He called papa "sir" to his face, "the +parson" or "his reverence" behind his back. There was no taming Tom +Heriot. + +For a short time papa took Tom's lessons with mine. But he found it +would not answer. Tom's guardians wrote to beg of the Rector to +continue to undertake him for a year or two, offering a handsome +recompense in return. But my father wrote word back that the lad +needed the discipline of school and must have it. So to school Tom was +sent. He came home in the holidays, reckless and random, generous and +loving as ever, and we had fine times together, the three of us +growing up like brothers and sister. Of course, I was not related to +them at all: and they were only half related to each other. + +Rather singularly, Thomas Heriot's fortune was just as much as mine: +six thousand pounds: and left in very much the same way. The +interest, three hundred a year, was to maintain and educate him for +the army; and he would come into the whole when he was twenty-one. +Blanche had less: four thousand pounds only, and it was secured in the +same way as Tom's was until she should be twenty-one, or until she +married. + +And thus about a couple of years went on. + + * * * * * + +No household was ever less given to superstition than ours at White +Littleham Rectory. It never as much as entered the mind of any of its +inmates, from its master downwards. And perhaps it was this complete +indifference to and disbelief in the supernatural that caused the +matter to be openly spoken of by the Rector. I have since thought so. + +It was Christmas-tide, and Christmas weather. Frost and snow covered +the ground. Icicles on the branches glittered in the sunshine like +diamonds. + +"It is the jolliest day!" exclaimed Tom, dashing into the +breakfast-room from an early morning run half over the parish. +"People are slipping about like mad, and the ice is inches thick on +the ponds. Old Joe Styles went right down on his back." + +"I hope he was not hurt, Tom," remarked papa, coming down from his +chamber into the room in time to hear the last sentence. +"Good-morning, my boys." + +"Oh, it was only a Christmas gambol, sir," said Tom carelessly. + +We sat down to breakfast. Leah came in to see to me and Tom. The +Rector might be--and was--efficient in his parish and pulpit, but a +more hopelessly incapable man in a domestic point of view the world +never saw. Tom and I should have come badly off had we relied upon him +to help us, and we might have gobbled up every earthly thing on the +table without his saying yea or nay. Leah, knowing this, stood to pour +out the coffee. Mrs. Strange had gone away to London on Wednesday (the +day after Christmas Day) to see an old aunt who was ill, and had taken +Blanche with her. This was Friday, and they were expected home again +on the morrow. + +Presently Tom, who was observant in his way, remarked that papa was +taking nothing. His coffee stood before him untouched; some bacon lay +neglected on his plate. + +"Shall I cut you some thin bread and butter, sir?" asked Leah. + +"Presently," said he, and went on doing nothing as before. + +"What are you thinking of, papa?" + +"Well, Charley, I--I was thinking of my dream," he answered. "I +suppose it _was_ a dream," he went on, as if to himself. "But it was a +curious one." + +"Oh, please tell it us!" I cried. "I dreamt on Christmas night that I +had a splendid plum-cake, and was cutting it up into slices." + +"Well--it was towards morning," he said, still speaking in a dreamy +sort of way, his eyes looking straight out before him as if he were +recalling it, yet evidently seeing nothing. "I awoke suddenly with the +sound of a voice in my ear. It was your mamma's voice, Charley; your +own mother's; and she seemed to be standing at my bedside. 'I am +coming for you,' she said to me--or seemed to say. I was wide awake in +a moment, and knew her voice perfectly. Curious, was it not, Leah?" + +Leah, cutting bread and butter for Tom, had halted, loaf in one hand, +knife in the other. + +"Yes, sir," she answered, gazing at the Rector. "Did you _see_ +anything, sir?" + +"No; not exactly," he returned. "I was conscious that whoever spoke to +me, stood close to my bedside; and I was also conscious that the +figure retreated across the room towards the window. I cannot say that +I absolutely saw the movement; it was more like some unseen presence +in the room. It was very odd. Somehow I can't get it out of my +head---- Why, here's Mr. Penthorn!" he broke off to say. + +Mr. Penthorn had opened the gate, and was walking briskly up the path. +He was our doctor; a gray-haired man, active and lively, and very +friendly with us all. He had looked in, in passing back to the +village, to tell the Rector that a parishioner, to whom he had been +called up in the night, was in danger. + +"I'll go and see her," said papa. "You'd be none the worse for a cup +of coffee, Penthorn. It is sharp weather." + +"Well, perhaps I shouldn't," said he, sitting down by me, while Tom +went off to the kitchen for a cup and saucer. "Sharp enough--but +seasonable. Is anything amiss with you, Leah? Indigestion again?" + +This caused us to look at Leah. She was whiter than the table-cloth. + +"No, sir; I'm all right," answered Leah, as she took the cup from +Tom's hand and began to fill it with coffee and hot milk. "Something +that the master has been telling us scared me a bit at the moment, +that's all." + +"And what was that?" asked the Doctor lightly. + +So the story had to be gone over again, papa repeating it rather more +elaborately. Mr. Penthorn was sceptical, and said it was a dream. + +"I have just called it a dream," assented my father. "But, in one +sense, it was certainly not a dream. I had not been dreaming at all, +to my knowledge; have not the least recollection of doing so. I woke +up fully in a moment, with the voice ringing in my ears." + +"The voice must have been pure fancy," declared Mr. Penthorn. + +"That it certainly was not," said the Rector. "I never heard a voice +more plainly in my life; every tone, every word was distinct and +clear. No, Penthorn; that someone spoke to me is certain; the puzzle +is--who was it?" + +"Someone must have got into your room, then," said the Doctor, +throwing his eyes suspiciously across the table at Tom. + +Leah turned sharply round to face Tom. "Master Tom, if you played +this trick, say so," she cried, her voice trembling. + +"I! that's good!" retorted Tom, as earnestly as he could speak. "I +never got out of bed from the time I got into it. Wasn't likely to. I +never woke up at all." + +"It was not Tom," interposed papa. "How could Tom assume my late +wife's voice? It _was_ her voice, Penthorn. I had never heard it since +she left us; and it has brought back all its familiar tones to my +memory." + +The Doctor helped himself to some bread and butter, and gave his head +a shake. + +"Besides," resumed the Rector, "no one else ever addressed me as she +did--'Eustace.' I have not been called Eustace since my mother died, +many years ago, except by her. My present wife has never called me by +it." + +That was true. Mrs. Strange had a pet name for him, and it was +"Hubby." + +"'I am coming for you, Eustace,' said the voice. It was her voice; her +way of speaking. I can't account for it at all, Penthorn. I can't get +it out of my head, though it sounds altogether so ridiculous." + +"Well, I give it up," said Mr. Penthorn, finishing his coffee. "If you +_were_ awake, Strange, someone must have been essaying a little +sleight-of-hand upon you. Good-morning, all of you; I must be off to +my patients. Tom Heriot, don't you get trying the ponds yet, or maybe +I shall have you on my hands as well as other people." + +We gave it up also: and nothing more was said or thought of it, as far +as I know. We were not, I repeat, a superstitious family. Papa went +about his duties as usual, and Leah went about hers. The next day, +Saturday, Mrs. Strange and Blanche returned home; and the cold grew +sharper and the frozen ponds were lovely. + +On Monday afternoon, the last day of the year, the Rector mounted old +Dobbin, to ride to the next parish. He had to take a funeral for the +incumbent, who was in bed with gout. + +"Have his shoes been roughed?" asked Tom, standing at the gate with me +to watch the start. + +"Yes; and well roughed too, Master Tom," spoke up James, who had lived +with us longer than I could remember, as gardener, groom, and general +man-of-all-work. "'Tisn't weather, sir, to send him out without being +rough-shod." + +"You two boys had better get to your Latin for an hour, and prepare it +for me for to-morrow; and afterwards you may go to the ponds," said my +father, as he rode away. "Good-bye, lads. Take care of yourself, +Charley." + +"Bother Latin!" said Tom. "I'm going off now. Will you come, +youngster?" + +"Not till I've done my Latin." + +"You senseless young donkey! Stay, though; I must tell the mamsie +something." + +He made for the dining-room, where Mrs. Strange sat with Blanche. +"Look here, mamsie," said he; "let us have a bit of a party +to-night." + +"A party, Tom!" she returned. + +"Just the young Penthorns and the Clints." + +"Oh, do, mamma!" I cried, for I was uncommonly fond of parties. And +"Do, mamma!" struck in little Blanche. + +My new mother rarely denied us anything; but she hesitated now. + +"I think not to-night, dears. You know we are going to have the +school-treat tomorrow evening, and the servants are busy with the +cakes and things. They shall come on Wednesday instead, Tom." + +Tom laughed. "They _must_ come to-night, mamsie. They _are_ coming. I +have asked them." + +"What--the young Penthorns?" + +"_And_ the young Clints," said Tom, clasping his stepmother, and +kissing her. "They'll be here on the stroke of five. Mind you treat us +to plenty of tarts and cakes, there's a good mamsie!" + +Tom went off with his skates. I got to my books. After that, some +friends came to call, and the afternoon seemed to pass in no time. + +"It is hardly worth while your going to the ponds now, Master +Charles," said Leah, meeting me in the passage, when I was at last at +liberty. + +In looking back I think that I must have had a very obedient nature, +for I was ever willing to listen to orders or suggestions, however +unpalatable they might be. Passing through the back-door, the nearest +way to the square pond, to which Tom had gone, I looked out. Twilight +was already setting in. The evening star twinkled in a clear, frosty +sky. The moon shone like a silver shield. + +"Before you could get to the square pond, Master Charley, it would be +dark," said Leah, as she stood beside me. + +"So it would," I assented. "I think I'll not go, Leah." + +"And I'm sure you don't need to tire yourself for to-night," went on +Leah. "There'll be romping enough and to spare if those boys and girls +come." + +I went back to the parlour. Leah walked to the side gate, wondering +(as she said afterwards) what had come to the milkman, for he was +generally much earlier. As she stood looking down the lane, she saw +Tom stealing up. + +"He has been in some mischief," decided Leah. "It's not like _him_ to +creep up in that timorous fashion. Good patience! Why, the lad must +have had a fright; his face is white as death." + +"Leah!" said the boy, shrinking as he glanced over his shoulder. +"Leah!" + +"Well, what on earth is it?" asked Leah, feeling a little dread +herself. "What have you been up to at that pond? You've not been in it +yourself, I suppose!" + +"Papa--the parson--is lying in the road by the triangle, all pale and +still. He does not move." + +Whenever Master Tom Heriot saw a chance of scaring the kitchen with a +fable, he plunged into one. Leah peered at him doubtfully in the +fading light. + +"I think he is dead. I'm sure he is," continued Tom, bursting into +tears. + +This convinced Leah. She uttered a faint cry. + +"We took that way back from the square pond; I, and Joe and Bertie +Penthorn. They were going home to get ready to come here. Then we saw +something lying near the triangle, close to that heap of flint-stones. +It was _him_, Leah. Oh! what is to be done? I can't tell mamma, or +poor Charley." + +James ran up, all scared, as Tom finished speaking. He had found +Dobbin at the stable-door, without sign or token of his master. + +Even yet I cannot bear to think of that dreadful night. We _had_ to be +told, you see; and Leah lost no time over it. While Tom came home with +the news, Joe Penthorn had run for his father, and Bertie called to +some labourers who were passing on the other side of the triangle. + +He was brought home on a litter, the men carrying it, Mr. Penthorn +walking by its side. He was not dead, but quite unconscious. They put +a mattress on the study-table, and laid him on it. + +He had been riding home from the funeral. Whether Dobbin, usually so +sure-footed and steady, had plunged his foot into a rut, just glazed +over by the ice, and so had stumbled; or whether something had +startled him and caused him to swerve, we never knew. The Rector had +been thrown violently, his head striking the stones. + +Mr. Penthorn did not leave the study. Two other surgeons, summoned in +haste from the neighbouring town, joined him. They could do nothing +for papa--_nothing_. He never recovered consciousness, and died during +the night--about a quarter before three o'clock. + +"I knew he would go just at this time, sir," whispered Leah to Mr. +Penthorn as he was leaving the house and she opened the front-door for +him. "I felt sure of it when the doctors said he would not see morning +light. It was just at the same hour that he had his call, sir, three +nights ago. As sure as that he is now lying there dead, as sure as +that those stars are shining in the heavens above us, _that was his +warning_." + +"Nonsense, Leah!" reproved Mr. Penthorn sharply. + + * * * * * + +Chances and changes. The world is full of them. A short time and White +Littleham Rectory knew us no more. The Reverend Eustace Strange was +sleeping his last sleep in the churchyard by his wife's side, and the +Reverend John Ravensworth was the new Rector. + +Tom Heriot went back to school. I was placed at one chosen for me by +my great-uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar. Leah Williams left us to +take service in another family, who were about to settle somewhere on +the Continent. She could not speak for emotion when she said good-bye +to me. + +"It must be for years, Master Charles, and it may be for ever," she +said, taking, I fancy, the words from one of the many favourite +ditties, martial or love-lorn, she treated us to in the nursery. "No, +we may never meet again in this life, Master Charles. All the same, I +hope we shall." + +And meet we did, though not for years and years. And it would no doubt +have called forth indignation from Leah had I been able to foretell +how, when that meeting came in after-life, she would purposely +withhold her identity from me and pass herself off as a stranger. + +Mrs. Strange went to London, Blanche with her, to take up for the +present her abode with her old aunt, who had invited her to do so. She +was little, if any, better off in this second widowhood than she had +been as the widow of Colonel Heriot. What papa had to leave he left to +her; but it was not much. I had my own mother's money. And so we were +all separated again; all divided: one here, another there, a third +elsewhere. It is the way of the world. Change and chance! chance and +change! + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +MR. SERJEANT STILLINGFAR. + + +Gloucester Place, Portman Square. In one of its handsome houses--as +they are considered to be by persons of moderate desires--dwelt its +owner, Major Carlen. Major Carlen was a man of the world; a man of +fashion. When the house had fallen to him some years before by the +will of a relative, with a substantial sum of money to keep it up, he +professed to despise the house to his brother-officers and other +acquaintances of the great world. He would have preferred a house in +Belgrave Square, or in Grosvenor Place, or in Park Lane. Major Carlen +was accustomed to speak largely; it was his way. + +Since then, he had retired from the army, and was master of himself, +his time and his amusements. Major Carlen was fond of clubs, fond of +card-playing, fond of dinners; fond, indeed, of whatever constitutes +fast life. His house in Gloucester Place was handsomely furnished, +replete with comfort, and possessed every reasonable requisite for +social happiness--even to a wife. And Major Carlen's wife was Jessy, +once Mrs. Strange, once Mrs. Heriot. + +It is quite a problem why some women cannot marry at all, try to do so +as they may, whilst others become wives three and four times over, and +without much seeking of their own. Mrs. Heriot (to give her her first +name) was one of these. In very little more than a year after her +first husband died, she married her second; in not any more than a +year after her second husband's death, she married her third. Major +Carlen must have been captivated by her pretty face and purring +manner; whilst she fell prone at the feet of the man of fashion, and +perhaps a very little at the prospect of being mistress of the house +in Gloucester Place. Anyway, the why and the wherefore lay between +themselves. Mrs. Strange became Mrs. Carlen. + +Reading over thus far, it has struck me that you may reasonably think +the story is to consist chiefly of marrying and dying; for there has +been an undue proportion of both events. Not so: as you will find as +you go on. Our ancestors do marry and die, you know: and these first +three chapters are only a prologue to the story which has to come. + + * * * * * + +Christmas has come round again. Not the Christmas following that which +ended so disastrously for us at White Littleham Rectory, but one five +years later. For the stream of time flows on its course, and boys and +girls grow insensibly towards men and women. + +It had been a green Christmas this year. We were now some days past +it. The air was mild, the skies were blue and genial. Newspapers told +of violets and other flowers growing in nooks, sheltered and +unsheltered. Mrs. Carlen, seated by a well-spread table, half dinner, +half tea, in the dining-room at Gloucester Place, declared that the +fire made the room too warm. I was reading. Blanche, a very fair and +pretty girl, now ten years old, sat on a stool on the hearthrug, her +light curls tied back with blue ribbons, her hands lying idly on the +lap of her short silk frock. We were awaiting an arrival. + +"Listen, Charles!" cried mamma--as I called her still. "I do think a +cab is stopping." + +I put down my book, and Blanche threw back her head and her blue +ribbons in expectation. But the cab went on. + +"It is just like Tom!" smiled Mrs. Carlen. "Nothing ever put him out +as it does other people. He gives us one hour and means another. He +_said_ seven o'clock, so we may expect him at ten. I do wish he could +have obtained leave for Christmas Day!" + +Major Carlen did not like children, boys especially: yet Tom Heriot +and I had been allowed to spend our holidays at his house, summer and +winter. Mrs. Carlen stood partly in the light of a mother to us both; +and I expect our guardians paid substantially for the privilege. Tom +was now nearly eighteen, and had had a commission given him in a crack +regiment; partly, it was said, through the interest of Major Carlen. I +was between fifteen and sixteen. + +"I'm sure you children must be famishing," cried Mrs. Carlen. "It +wants five minutes to eight. If Tom is not here as the clock strikes, +we will begin tea." + +The silvery bell had told its eight strokes and was dying away, when a +cab dashing past the door suddenly pulled up. No mistake this time. We +heard Tom's voice abusing the driver--or, as he called it, "pitching +into him"--for not looking at the numbers. + +What a fine, handsome young fellow he had grown! And how joyously he +met us all; folding mother, brother and sister in one eager embrace. +Tom Heriot was careless and thoughtless as it was possible for anyone +to be, but he had a warm and affectionate heart. When trouble, and +something worse, fell upon him later, and he became a town's talk, +people called him bad-hearted amongst other reproaches; but they were +mistaken. + +"Why, Charley, how you have shot up!" he cried gaily. "You'll soon +overtake me." + +I shook my head. "While I am growing, Tom, you will be growing also." + +"What was it you said in your last letter?" he went on, as we began +tea. "That you were going to leave school?" + +"Well, I fancy so, Tom. Uncle Stillingfar gave notice at Michaelmas." + +"Thinks you know enough, eh, lad?" + +I could not say much about that. That I was unusually well educated +for my years there could be no doubt about, especially in the classics +and French. My father had laid a good foundation to begin with, and +the school chosen for me was a first-rate one. The French resident +master had taken a liking to me, and had me much with him. Once during +the midsummer holidays he had taken me to stay with his people in +France: to Abbeville, with its interesting old church and +market-place, its quaint costumes and uncomfortable inns. Altogether, +I spoke and wrote French almost as well as he did. + +"What are they going to make of you, Charley? Is it as old Stillingfar +pleases?" + +"I think so. I dare say they'll put me to the law." + +"Unfortunate martyr! I'd rather command a pirate-boat on the high seas +than stew my brains over dry law-books and musty parchments!" + +"Tastes differ," struck in Miss Blanche. "And you are not going to sea +at all, Tom." + +"Tastes do differ," smiled Mrs. Carlen. "I should think it much nicer +to harangue judges and law-courts in a silk gown and wig, Tom, than +to put on a red coat and go out to be shot at." + +"Hark at the mamsie!" cried Tom, laughing. "Charley, give me some more +tongue. Where's the Major to-night?" + +The Major was dining out. Tom and I were always best pleased when he +did dine out. A pompous, boasting sort of man, I did not like him at +all. As Tom put it, we would at any time rather have his room than his +company. + +The days I am writing of are not these days. Boys left school earlier +then than they do now. I suppose education was not so comprehensive as +it is now made: but it served us. It was quite a usual thing to place +a lad out in the world at fourteen or fifteen, whether to a profession +or a trade. Therefore little surprise was caused at home by notice +having been given of my removal from school. + +At breakfast, next morning, Tom began laying out plans for the day. +"I'll take you to this thing, Charley, and I'll take you to that." +Major Carlen sat in his usual place at the foot of the table, facing +his wife. An imposing-looking man, tall, thin and angular, who must +formerly have been handsome. He had a large nose with a curious twist +in it; white teeth, which he showed very much; light gray eyes that +stared at you, and hair and whiskers of so brilliant a black that a +suspicious person might have said they were dyed. + +"I thought of taking you boys out myself this afternoon," spoke the +Major. "To see that horsemanship which is exhibiting. I hear it's very +good. Would you like to go?" + +"Oh, and me too!" struck in Blanche. "Take me, papa." + +"No," answered the Major, after reflection. "I don't consider it a fit +place for little girls. Would you boys like to go?" he asked. + +We said we should like it; said it in a sort of surprise, for it was +almost the first time he had ever offered to take us anywhere. + +"Charles cannot go," hastily interrupted Mrs. Carlen, who had at +length opened a letter which had been lying beside her plate. "This is +from Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, Charley. He asks me to send you to his +chambers this afternoon. You are to be there at three o'clock." + +"Just like old Stillingfar!" cried Tom resentfully. Considering that +he did not know much of Serjeant Stillingfar and had very little +experience of his ways, the reproach was gratuitous. + +Major Carlen laughed at it. "We must put off the horsemanship to +another day," said he. "It will come to the same thing. I will take +you out somewhere instead, Blanchie." + +Taking an omnibus in Oxford Street, when lunch was over, I went down +to Holborn, and thence to Lincoln's Inn. The reader may hardly believe +that I had never been to my uncle's chambers before, though I had +sometimes been to his house. He seemed to have kept me at a distance. +His rooms were on the first floor. On the outer door I read "Mr. +Serjeant Stillingfar." + +"Come in," cried out a voice, in answer to my knock. And I entered a +narrow little room. + +A pert-looking youth with a quantity of long, light curly hair and an +eye-glass, and not much older than myself, sat on a stool at a desk, +beside an unoccupied chair. He eyed me from head to foot. I wore an +Eton jacket and turn-down collar; he wore a "tail" coat, a stand-up +collar, and a stock. + +"What do _you_ want?" he demanded. + +"I want Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar." + +"Not in; not to be seen. You can come another day." + +"But I am here by appointment." + +The young gentleman caught up his eyeglass, fixed it, and turned it on +me. "I don't think you are expected," said he coolly. + +Now, though he had been gifted with a stock of native impudence, and a +very good stock it was at his time of life, I had been gifted with +native modesty. I waited in silence, not knowing what to do. Two or +three chairs stood about. He no doubt would have tried them all in +succession, had it suited him to do so. I did not like to take one of +them. + +"Will my uncle be long, do you know?" I asked. + +"Who _is_ your uncle?" + +"Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar." + +He put up his glass again, which had dropped, and stared at me harder +than before. At this juncture an inner door was opened, and a +middle-aged man in a black coat and white neckcloth came through it. + +"Are you Mr. Strange?" he inquired, quietly and courteously. + +"Yes. My uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, wrote to tell me to be here +at three o'clock." + +"I know. Will you step in here? The Serjeant is in Court, but will not +be long. As to you, young Mr. Lake, if you persist in exercising your +impudent tongue upon all comers, I shall request the Serjeant to put a +stop to your sitting here at all. How many times have you been told +not to take upon yourself to answer callers, but to refer them to me +when Michael is out?" + +"About a hundred and fifty, I suppose, old Jones. Haven't counted +them, though," retorted Mr. Lake. + +"Impertinent young rascal!" ejaculated Mr. Jones, as he took me into +the next room, and turned to a little desk that stood in a corner. He +was the Serjeant's confidential clerk, and had been with him for +years. Arthur Lake, beginning to read for the Bar, was allowed by the +Serjeant and his clerk to sit in their chambers of a day, to pick up a +little experience. + +"Sit down by the fire, Mr. Strange," said the clerk. "It is a warm +day, though, for the season. I expected the Serjeant in before this. +He will not be long now." + +Before I had well taken in the bearings of the room, which was the +Serjeant's own, and larger and better than the other, he came in, +wearing his silk gown and gray wig. He was a little man, growing +elderly now, with a round, smooth, fair face, out of which twinkled +kindly blue eyes. Mr. Jones got up from his desk at once to divest him +of wig and gown, producing at the same time a miniature flaxen wig, +which the Serjeant put upon his head. + +"So you have come, Charles!" he said, shaking hands with me as he sat +down in a large elbow-chair. Mr. Jones went out with his arm full of +papers and shut the door upon us. + +"Yes, sir," I answered. + +"You will be sixteen next May, I believe," he added. He had the +mildest voice and manner imaginable; not at all what might be expected +in a serjeant-at-law, who was supposed to take the Court by storm on +occasion. "And I understand from your late master that in all your +studies you are remarkably well advanced." + +"Pretty well, I think, sir," I answered modestly. + +"Ay. I am glad to hear you speak of it in a diffident, proper sort of +way. Always be modest, lad; true merit ever is so. It tells, too, in +the long-run. Well, Charles, I think it time that you were placed out +in life." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is there any calling that you especially fancy? Any one profession +you would prefer to embrace above another?" + +"No, sir; I don't know that there is. I have always had an idea that +it would be the law. I think I should like that." + +"Just so," he answered, the faint pink on his smooth cheeks growing +deeper with gratification. "It is what I have always intended you to +enter--provided you had no insuperable objection to it. But I shall +not make a barrister of you, Charles." + +"No!" I exclaimed. "What then?" + +"An attorney-at-law." + +I was too much taken by surprise to answer at once. "Is that--a +gentleman's calling, Uncle Charles?" I at length took courage to ask. + +"Ay, that it is, lad," he impressively rejoined. "It's true you've no +chance of the Woolsack or of a judgeship, or even of becoming a +pleader, as I am. If you had a ready-made fortune, Charles, you might +eat your dinners, get called, and risk it. But you have not; and I +will not be the means of condemning the best years of your life to +anxious poverty." + +I only looked at him, without speaking. I fancy he must have seen +disappointment in my face. + +"Look here, Charles," he resumed, bending forward impressively: "I +will tell you a little of my past experience. My people thought they +were doing a great thing for me when they put me to the Bar. I thought +the same. I was called in due course, and donned my stuff gown and wig +in glory--the glory cast by the glamour of hope. How long my mind +maintained that glamour; how long it was before it began to give +place to doubt; how many years it took to merge doubt into despair, I +cannot tell you. I think something like fifteen or twenty." + +"Fifteen or twenty years, Uncle Stillingfar!" + +"Not less. I was steady, persevering, sufficiently clever. Yet +practice did not come to me. It is all a lottery. I had no fortune, +lad; no one to help me. I was not clever at writing for the newspapers +and magazines, as many of my fellows were. And for more years than I +care to recall I had a hard struggle for existence. I was engaged to +be married. She was a sweet, patient girl, and we waited until we were +both bordering upon middle age. Ay, Charles, I was forty years old +before practice began to flow in upon me. The long lane had taken a +turning at last. It flew in then with a vengeance--more work than I +could possibly undertake." + +"And did you marry the young lady, Uncle Charles?" I asked in the +pause he came to. I had never heard of his having a wife. + +"No, child; she was dead. I think she died of waiting." + +I drew a long breath, deeply interested. + +"There are scores of young fellows starving upon hope now, as I +starved then, Charles. The market is terribly overstocked. For ten +barristers striving to rush into note in my days, you may count twenty +or thirty in these. I will not have you swell the lists. My brother's +grandson shall never, with my consent, waste his best years in +fighting with poverty, waiting for luck that may never come to him." + +"I suppose it is a lottery, as you say, sir." + +"A lottery where blanks far outweigh the prizes," he assented. "A +lottery into which you shall not enter. No, Charles; you shall be +spared that. As a lawyer, I can make your progress tolerably sure. You +may be a rich man in time if you will, and an honourable one. I have +sounded my old friend, Henry Brightman, and I think he is willing to +take you." + +"I am afraid I should not make a good pleader, sir," I acknowledged, +falling in with his views. "I can't speak a bit. We had a +debating-club at school, and in the middle of a speech I always lost +myself." + +He nodded, and rose. "You shall not try it, my boy. And that's all for +to-day, Charles. All I wanted was to sound your views before making +arrangements with Brightman." + +"Has he a good practice, sir?" + +"He has a very large and honourable practice, Charles. He is a good +man and a _gentleman_," concluded the Serjeant emphatically. "All +being well, you may become his partner sometime." + +"Am I not to go to Oxford, sir?" I asked wistfully. + +"If you particularly wish to do so and circumstances permit it, you +may perhaps keep a few terms when you are out of your articles," he +replied, with hesitation. "We shall see, Charles, when that time +comes." + + * * * * * + +"What a shame!" exclaimed Mrs. Carlen, when I reached home. "Make you +a lawyer! That he never shall, Charles. I shall not allow it. I will +go down and remonstrate with him." + +Major Carlen said it was a shame; said it contemptuously. Tom said it +was a double-shame, and threw a host of hard words upon Mr. Serjeant +Stillingfar. Blanche began to cry. She had been reading that day about +a press-gang, and quite believed my fate would be worse than that of +being pressed. + +After breakfast, next morning, we hastened to Lincoln's Inn: I and +Mrs. Carlen, for she kept her word. I should be a barrister or +nothing, she protested. All very fine to say so! She had no power over +me whatever. That lay with Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar and the other +trustee, and he never interfered. If they chose to article me to a +chimneysweep instead of a lawyer, no one could say them nay. + +Mr. Jones and young Lake sat side by side at the desk in the first +room when we arrived. Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar was in his own room. He +received us very kindly, shaking hands with Mrs. Carlen, whom he had +seen occasionally. Mrs. Carlen, sitting opposite to him, entered upon +her protest, and was meekly listened to by the Serjeant. + +"Better be a successful attorney, madam, than a briefless barrister," +he observed, when she finished. + +"All barristers are not briefless," said Mrs. Carlen. + +"A great many of them are," he answered. "Some of them never make +their mark at all; they live and die struggling men." And, leaning +forward in his chair--as he had leaned towards me yesterday--he +repeated a good deal that he had then said of his own history; his +long-continued poverty, and his despairing struggles. Mrs. Carlen's +heart melted. + +"Yes, I know. It is very sad, dear Mr. Serjeant, and I am sure your +experience is only that of many others," she sighed. "But, if I +understand the matter rightly, the chief trouble of these young +barristers is their poverty. Had they means to live, they could wait +patiently and comfortably until success came to them." + +"Of course," he assented. "It is the want of private means that makes +the uphill path so hard." + +"Charles has his three hundred a year." + +The faint pink in his cheeks, just the hue of a sea-shell, turned to +crimson. I was sitting beyond the table, and saw it. He glanced across +at me. + +"It will take more money to make Charles a lawyer and to ensure him a +footing afterwards in a good house than it would to get him called to +the Bar," he said with a smile. + +"Yes--perhaps so. But that is not quite the argument, Mr. Serjeant," +said my stepmother. "Any young man who has three hundred a year may +manage to live upon it." + +"It is to be hoped so. I know I should have thought three hundred a +year a perfect gold-mine." + +"Then you see Charles need not starve while waiting for briefs to come +in to him. Do you _not_ see that, Mr. Serjeant?" + +"I see it very clearly," he mildly said. "Had Charles his three +hundred a year to fall back upon, he might have gone to the Bar had he +liked, and risked the future." + +"But he has it," Mrs. Carlen rejoined, surprise in her tone. + +"No, madam, he has it not. Nor two hundred a year, nor one hundred." + +They silently looked at one another for a full minute. Mrs. Carlen +evidently could not understand his meaning. I am sure I did not. + +"Charles's money, I am sorry to say, is lost," he continued. + +"Lost! Since when?" + +"Since the bank-panic that we had nearly two years ago." + +Mrs. Carlen collapsed. "Oh, dear!" she breathed. "Did you--pray +forgive the question, Mr. Serjeant--did you lose it? Or--or--the other +trustee?" + +He shook his head. "No, no. We neither lost it, nor are we responsible +for the loss. Charles's grandfather, my brother, invested the money, +six thousand pounds, in bank debentures to bring in five per cent. He +settled the money upon his daughter, Lucy, and upon her children after +her, making myself and our old friend, George Wickham, trustees. In +the panic of two years ago this bank _went_; its shares and its +debentures became all but worthless." + +"Is the money all gone? quite gone?" gasped Mrs. Carlen. "Will it +never be recovered?" + +"The debentures are Charles's still, but they are for the present +almost worthless," he replied. "The bank went on again, and if it can +recover itself and regain prosperity, Charles in the end may not +greatly suffer. He may regain his money, or part of it. But it will +not be yet awhile. The unused portion of the income had been sunk, +year by year, in further debentures, in accordance with the directions +of the will. All went." + +"But--someone must have paid for Charles all this time--two whole +years!" she reiterated, in vexed surprise. + +"Yes! it has been managed," he gently said. + +"I think you must have paid for him yourself," spoke Mrs. Carlen with +impulse. "I think it is you who are intending to pay the premium to +Mr. Brightman, and to provide for his future expenses? You are a good +man, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar!" + +His face broke into a smile: the rare sweet smile which so seldom +crossed it. "I am only lending it to him. Charley will repay me when +he is a rich man. But you see now, Mrs. Carlen, why a certainty will +be better for him than an uncertainty." + +We saw it all too clearly, and there was no more remonstrance to be +made. Mrs. Carlen rose to leave, just as Mr. Jones came bustling into +the room. + +"Time is up, sir," he said to his master. "The Court will be waiting." + +"Ah, so: is it? Good-morning, madam," he added, politely dismissing +her. "I shall send for you here again in a day or two, Charles." + +"Thank you for what you are doing for me, Uncle Charles," I whispered. +"It is very kind of you." + +He laid his hand upon my shoulder affectionately, keeping it there for +a few seconds. And as we went out, the last glimpse I had was of his +kind, gentle face, and Mr. Jones standing ready to assist him on with +his wig and gown. + +And we went back to Gloucester Place aware that my destiny in life was +settled. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +IN ESSEX STREET. + + +Henry Brightman's offices were in Essex Street, Strand, near the +Temple. He rented the whole house: a capital house, towards the bottom +of the street on the left-hand side as you go down. His father, who +had been head and chief of the firm, had lived in it. But old Mr. +Brightman was dead, and his son, now sole master, lived over the water +on the Surrey side, in a style his father would never have dreamt of. +It was a firm of repute and consideration; and few legal firms, if +any, in London were better regarded. + +It was to this gentleman my uncle, Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, articled +me: and a gentleman Henry Brightman was in every sense of the term. He +was a slender man of middle height, with a bright, pleasant face, +quick, dark eyes, and brown hair. Very much to my surprise, I found, +when arrangements were being made for me, that I was to live in the +house. Serjeant Stillingfar had made it a condition that I should do +so. He and the late Mr. Brightman had been firm friends, and his +friendship was continued to Henry. An old lady, one Miss Methold, a +cousin of the Brightmans, resided in the house, and I was to take up +my abode with her. She was a kind old thing, though a little stern and +reserved, and she made me very comfortable. + +There were several clerks; and one articled pupil, who was leaving the +house as I entered it. The head of all was a gentleman named Lennard, +who seemed to take all management upon himself, under Mr. Brightman. +George Lennard was a tall spare man, with a thin, fair, aristocratic +face and well-formed features. He looked about thirty-five years old, +and an impression prevailed in the office that he was well-born, +well-connected, and had come down in the world through loss of +fortune. A man of few words, attentive, and always at his post, +Lennard was an excellent superintendent, ruling with a strict yet +kindly hand. + +One day, some weeks after I had entered, as I was at dinner with Miss +Methold in her sitting-room, and the weather was warm enough for all +doors to be open, we heard horses and carriage-wheels dash up to the +house. The room was at the head of the stairs, leading from the +offices to the kitchen: a large, pleasant room with a window looking +towards the Temple chambers and the winding river. + +"What a commotion!" exclaimed Miss Methold. + +I went to the door, and saw an open barouche, with a lady and a little +girl inside it, attended by a coachman and footman in livery. + +"It is quite a grand carriage, Miss Methold." + +"Oh," said she, looking over my shoulder: "it is Mrs. Brightman." + +"Very proud and high-and-mighty, is she not?" I rejoined, for the +clerks had talked about her. + +"She was born proud. Her mother was a nobleman's daughter, and she'll +be proud to the end," said the old lady. "Henry keeps up great show +and state for her. Of course, that is his affair, not mine." + +"I hear he has a charming place at Clapham, Miss Methold?" + +"So do I," she answered rather bitterly. "I have never seen it." + +"Never seen it?" I echoed in surprise. + +"Never," she answered. "I have not even been invited there by her. +Never once, Charles. Mrs. Brightman despises her husband's profession +in her heart; she despises me as belonging to it, I suppose, and as a +poor relation. She has never condescended to get out of her carriage +to enter the office here, and has never asked to see me, here or +there. Henry has invited me down there once or twice when she was away +from home, but I have said, No, thank you." + +Mr. Lennard came in. The clerks, one excepted, had gone out to dinner. +"Do you know whether it will be long before Mr. Brightman comes in, or +where he has gone to?" he said to Miss Methold. + +"Indeed, I do not," she answered rather shortly. "I only knew he was +out by his not appearing now at luncheon." + +"Charles, go to the carriage and tell Mrs. Brightman that we don't +know how long it may be before Mr. Brightman comes in," said he. + +I rather wondered why he could not go himself as I took out the +message to Mrs. Brightman. + +She had a fair proud face, and her air was cold and haughty as she +listened to me. + +"Let this be given to him as soon as he comes in," she said, handing +me a sealed note. "Regent Street; Carbonell's," she added to the +footman. + +As the carriage turned and bowled away, I caught the child's pretty +face, a smile on her rosy lips and in her laughing brown eyes. + +I may as well say here that young Lake had struck up an +acquaintanceship with me. The reader may remember that I saw him at +the chambers of Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar. I grew to like him greatly. +His faults were all on the surface; his heart was in the right place. +Boy though he was, he was thrown upon himself in the world. I don't +mean as to money, but as to a home; and he steered his course +unscathed through its shoals. The few friends he had lived in the +country. He had neither father nor mother. His lodgings were in +Norfolk Street, very near to us. Miss Methold would sometimes have him +in to spend Sunday with me; and now and then, but very rarely, he and +I were invited for that day to dine with Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar. + +The Serjeant lived in Russell Square, in one of its handsomest houses. +But he kept, so to say, no establishment; just two or three servants +and a modest little brougham. He must have been making a great deal of +money at that time, and I suppose he put it by. + +"Ah! you don't know, Charley," Lake said to me one evening when I was +in Norfolk Street, and we began talking of him. "It is said his money +went in that same precious bank which devoured yours; and it is +thought that he lives in this quiet manner, eschewing pomps and +vanities, to be able to help friends who were quite ruined by it. Old +Jones knows a little, and I've heard him drop a word or two." + +"I am sure my uncle is singularly good and kind. Those simple-minded +men generally are." + +Lake nodded. "Few men, _I_ should say, come up to Serjeant +Stillingfar." + +A trouble had come to me in the early spring. I thought it a great +one, and grieved over it. Major Carlen gave up his house in +Gloucester Place, letting it furnished for a long term, and went +abroad with his wife. _He_ might have gone to the end of the world for +ever and a day, but she was like my second mother, and indeed _was_ +so, and I felt lost without her. They took up their abode at Brussels. +It would be good for Blanche's education, Mrs. Carlen wrote to me. +Other people said that the Major had considerably out-run the +constable, and went there to economise. Tom Heriot was down at +Portsmouth with his regiment. + +I think that is all I need say of this part of my life. I liked my +profession very much indeed, and got on well in it and with Mr. +Brightman and the clerks, and with good old Miss Methold. And so the +years passed on. + +The first change came when I was close upon twenty years of age: came +in the death of Miss Methold. After that, I left Essex Street as a +residence, for there was no longer anyone to rule it, and went into +Lake's lodgings in Norfolk Street, sharing his sitting-room and +securing a bedroom. And still a little more time rolled on. + + * * * * * + +It was Easter-tide. On Easter Eve, it happened that I had remained in +the office after the other clerks had left, to finish some work in +hand. In these days Saturday afternoon has become a general holiday; +in those days we had to work all the harder. On Saturdays a holiday +was unknown. + +Writing steadily, I finished my task, and was locking up my desk, +which stood near the far window in the front room on the ground floor, +when Mr. Brightman, who had also remained late, came downstairs from +his private room, and looked in. + +"Not gone yet, Charley!" + +"I am going now, sir. I have only just finished my work." + +"Some of the clerks are coming on Monday, I believe," continued Mr. +Brightman. "Are you one of them?" + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Lennard told me I might take holiday, but I did not +care about it. As I have no friends to spend it with, it would not be +much of a holiday to me. Arthur Lake is out of town." + +"And Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar on circuit," added Mr. Brightman. + +He paused and looked at me, as he stood near the door. I was gathering +the pens together. + +"Have you no friends to dine with, to-morrow--Easter Day?" + +"No, sir. At least, I have not been asked anywhere. I think I shall go +for a blow up the river." + +"A blow up the river!" he repeated doubtfully. "Don't you go to +church?" + +"Always. I go to the Temple. I meant in the afternoon, sir." + +"Well, if you have no friends to dine with, you may come and dine with +me," said Mr. Brightman, after a moment's consideration. "Come down +when service is over. You will find an omnibus at Charing Cross." + +The invitation pleased me. Some of the clerks would have given their +ears for it. Of course I mean the gentlemen clerks; not one of whom +had ever been so favoured. I had sometimes wondered that he never +asked me, considering his intimacy with my uncle. But, I suppose, to +have invited me to his house and left out Miss Methold would have been +rather too pointed a slight upon her. + +It was a fine day. The Temple service was beautiful, as usual; the +anthem, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." Afterwards I went forth to +keep my engagement, and in due time reached the entrance-gates of Mr. +Brightman's residence. + +It was a large, handsome villa, enclosed in fine pleasure-grounds, +near Clapham. They lived in a good deal of style, kept seven or eight +servants and two carriages: a large barouche, and a brougham in which +he sometimes came to town. A well-appointed house, full of comfort and +luxury. Mr. Brightman was on the lawn when I reached it. + +"Well, Charles! I began to think you were late." + +"I walked down, sir. The first two omnibuses were full, and I would +not wait for a third." + +"Rather a long walk," he remarked with a smile. "But it is what I +should have done at your age. Dinner will be ready soon. We dine at +three o'clock on Sundays. It allows ourselves and the servants to +attend evening as well as morning service." + +He had walked towards the house as he spoke, and we went in. The +drawing-room and dining-room opened on either side a large hall. In +the former room sat Mrs. Brightman. I had seen her occasionally at the +office door in her carriage, but had never spoken to her except that +first time. She was considerably younger than Mr. Brightman, who must +have been then getting towards fifty. A proud woman she looked as she +sat there; her hair light and silky, her blue eyes disdainful, her +dress a rich purple silk, with fine white lace about it. + +"Here is Charles Strange at last," Mr. Brightman said to her, and she +replied by a slight bend of the head. She did not offer to shake +hands with me. + +"I have heard of you as living in Essex Street," she condescended to +observe, as I sat down. "Your relatives do not, I presume, live in +London?" + +"I have not any near relatives," was my answer. "My great-uncle lives +in London, but he is away just now." + +"You were speaking of that great civil cause, Emma, lately tried in +the country; and of the ability of the defendants' counsel, Serjeant +Stillingfar," put in Mr. Brightman. "It is Serjeant Stillingfar, if +you remember, who is Charles's uncle." + +"Oh, indeed," she said; and I thought her manner became rather more +gracious. And ah, what a gracious, charming lady she could be when she +pleased!--when she was amongst people whom she considered of her own +rank and degree. + +"Where is Annabel?" asked Mr. Brightman. + +"She has gone dancing off somewhere," was Mrs. Brightman's reply. "I +never saw such a child. She is never five minutes together in one +place." + +Presently she danced in. A graceful, pretty child, apparently about +twelve, in a light-blue silk frock. She wore her soft brown hair in +curls round her head, and they flew about as she flew, and a bright +colour rose to her cheeks with every word she spoke, and her eyes were +like her father's--dark, tender, expressive. Not any resemblance could +I trace to her mother, unless it lay in the same delicately-formed +features. + +We had a plain dinner; a quarter of lamb, pastry and creams. Mr. +Brightman did not exactly apologize for it, but explained that on +Sundays they had as little cooking as possible. But it was handsomely +served, and there were several sorts of wine. Three servants waited at +table, two in livery and the butler in plain clothes. + +Some little time after it was over, Mr. Brightman left the room, and +Mrs. Brightman, without the least ceremony, leaned back in an +easy-chair and closed her eyes. I said something to the child. She did +not answer, but came to me on tiptoe. + +"If we talk, mamma will be angry," she whispered. "She never lets me +make a noise while she goes to sleep. Would you like to come out on +the lawn? We may talk there." + +I nodded, and Annabel silently opened and passed out at one of the +French windows, holding it back for me. I as silently closed it. + +"Take care that it is quite shut," she said, "or the draught may get +to mamma. Papa has gone to his room to smoke his cigar," she +continued; "and we shall have coffee when mamma awakes. We do not take +tea until after church. Shall you go to church with us?" + +"I dare say I shall. Do you go?" + +"Of course I do. My governess tells me never to miss attending church +twice on Sundays, unless there is very good cause for doing so, and +then things will go well with me in the week. But if I wished to stay +at home, papa would not let me. Once, do you know, I made an excuse to +stay away from morning service: I said my head ached badly, though it +did not. It was to read a book that had been lent me, 'The Old English +Baron.' I feared my governess would not let me read it, if she saw it, +because it was about ghosts, so that I had only the Sunday to read it +in. Well, do you know, that next week nothing went right with me; my +lessons were turned back, my drawing was spoilt, and my French +mistress tore my translation in two. Oh, dear! it was nothing but +scolding and crossness. So at last, on the Saturday, I burst into +tears and told Miss Shelley about staying away from church and the +false excuse I had made. But she was very kind, and would not punish +me, for she said I had already had a whole week of punishment." + +Of all the little chatterboxes! "Is Miss Shelley your governess now?" +I asked her. + +"Yes. But her mother is an invalid, so mamma allows her to go home +every Saturday night and come back on Monday morning. Mamma says it is +pleasant to have Sunday to ourselves. But I like Miss Shelley very +much, and should be dull without her if papa were not at home. I do +love Sundays, because papa's here. Did you ever read 'The Old English +Baron'?" + +"No." + +"Shall I lend it you to take home?" continued Annabel, her cheeks +glowing, her eyes sparkling with good-nature. "I have it for my own +now. It is a very nice book. Have your sisters read it? Perhaps you +have no sisters?" + +"I have no real sisters, and my father and mother are dead. I have--" + +"Oh dear, how sad!" interrupted Annabel, clasping her hands. "Not to +have a father and mother! Was it"--after a pause--"you who lived with +Miss Methold?" + +"Yes. Did you know her?" + +"I knew her; and I liked her--oh, very much. Papa used to take me to +see her sometimes. With whom do you live now?" + +"I live in lodgings." + +She stood looking at me with her earnest eyes--thoughtful eyes just +then. + +"Then who sews the buttons on your shirts?" + +I burst into laughter: the reader may have done the same. "My landlady +professes to sew them on, Annabel, but the shirts often go without +buttons. Sometimes I sew one on myself." + +"If you had one off now, and it was not Sunday, I would sew it on for +you," said Annabel. "Why do you laugh?" + +"At your concern about my domestic affairs, my dear little girl." + +"But there's a gentleman who lives in lodgings and comes here +sometimes to dine with papa--he is older than you--and he says it is +the worst trouble of life to have no one to sew his buttons on. Who +takes care of you if you are ill?" she added, after another pause. + +"As there is no one to take care of me, I cannot afford to be ill, +Annabel. I am generally quite well." + +"I am glad of that. Was your father a lawyer, like papa?" + +"No. He was a clergyman." + +"Oh, don't turn," she cried; "I want to show you my birds. We have an +aviary, and they are beautiful. Papa lets me call them mine; and some +of them are mine in reality, for they were bought for me. Mamma does +not care for birds." + +Presently I asked Annabel her age. + +"Fourteen." + +"Fourteen!" I exclaimed in surprise. + +"I was fourteen in January. Mamma says I ought not to tell people my +age, for they will only think me more childish; but papa says I may +tell everyone." + +She was in truth a child for her years; especially as age is now +considered. She ran about, showing me everything, her frock, her +curls, her eyes dancing: from the aviary to the fowls, from the fowls +to the flowers: all innocent objects of her daily pleasures, innocent +and guileless as she herself. + +A smart-looking maid, with red ringlets flowing about her red cheeks, +and wide cap-strings flowing behind them, came up. + +"Why, here you are!" she exclaimed. "I've been looking all about for +you, Miss Annabel. Your mamma says you are to come in." + +"We are coming, Hatch; we were turning at that moment," answered the +child. "Is coffee ready?" + +"Yes, Miss Annabel, and waiting." + +In the evening we went to church, the servants following at some +distance. Afterwards we had tea, and then I rose to depart. Mr. +Brightman walked with me across the lawn, and we had almost reached +the iron gates when there came a sound of swift steps behind us. + +"Papa! papa! Is he gone? Is Mr. Strange gone?" + +"What is the matter now?" asked Mr. Brightman. + +"I promised to lend Mr. Strange this: it is 'The Old English Baron.' +He has never read it." + +"There, run back," said Mr. Brightman, as I turned and took the book +from her. "You will catch cold, Annabel." + +"What a charming child she is, sir!" I could not help exclaiming. + +"She is that," he replied. "A true child of nature, knowing no harm +and thinking none. Mrs. Brightman complains that her ideas and manners +are unformed; no style about her, she says, no reserve. In my opinion +that ought to constitute a child's chief charm. All Annabel's parts +are good. Of sense, intellect, talent, she possesses her full share; +and I am thankful that they are not prematurely developed. I am +thankful," he repeated with emphasis, "that she is not a forward +child. In my young days, girls were girls, but now there is not such a +thing to be found. They are all women. I do not admire the forcing +system myself; forced vegetables, forced fruit, forced children: they +are good for little. A genuine child, such as Annabel, is a treasure +rarely met with." + +I thought so too. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WATTS'S WIFE. + + +Leaving the omnibus at Charing Cross, I was hastening along the Strand +on my way home, when I ran against a gentleman, who was swaggering +along in a handsome, capacious cloak as if all the street belonged to +him. + +"I beg your pardon," I said, in apology. "I----" And there I broke off +to stare, for I thought I recognised him in the gaslight. + +"Why! It is Major Carlen!" + +"Just so. And it is Charles. How are you, Charles?" + +"Have you lately come from Brussels?" I asked, as we shook hands. +"And how did you leave mamma and Blanche?" + +"They are in Gloucester Place," he answered. "We all came over last +Wednesday." + +"I wonder they did not let me know it." + +"Plenty of time, young man. They will not be going away in a hurry. We +are settling down here again. You can come up when you like." + +"That will be to-morrow then. Good-night, sir." + +But it was not until Monday evening that I could get away. Mr. Lennard +went out in the afternoon on some private matter of his own, and +desired me to remain in to see a client, who had sent us word he +should call, although it was Easter Monday. Mr. Brightman did not come +to town that day. + +Six o'clock was striking when I reached Gloucester Place. Blanche ran +to meet me in the passage, and we had a spell of kissing. I think she +was then about fourteen; perhaps fifteen. A fair, upright, beautiful +girl, with the haughty blue eyes of her childhood, and a shower of +golden curls. + +"Oh, Charley, I am so glad! I thought you were never, never coming to +us." + +"I did not know you were here until last night. You should have sent +me word." + +"I told mamma so; but she was not well. She is not well yet. The +journey tired her, you see, and the sea was rough. Come upstairs and +see her, Charley. Papa has just gone out." + +Mrs. Carlen sat over the fire in the drawing-room in an easy-chair, a +shawl upon her shoulders. It was a dull evening, twilight not far off, +and she sat with her back to the light. It struck me she looked thin +and ill. I had been over once or twice to stay with them in Brussels; +the last time, eighteen months ago. + +"Are you well, mamma?" I asked as she kissed me--for I had not left +off calling her by the fond old childhood's name. "You don't look so." + +"The journey tired me, Charley," she answered--just as Blanche had +said to me. "I have a little cold, too. Sit down, my boy." + +"Have you come back here for good?" I asked. + +"Well, yes, I suppose so," she replied with hesitation. "For the +present, at all events." + +Tea was brought in. Blanche made it; her mother kept to her chair and +her shawl. The more I looked at her, the greater grew the conviction +that something beyond common ailed her. Major Carlen was dining out, +and they had dined in the middle of the day. + +Alas! I soon knew what was wrong. After tea, contriving to get rid of +Blanche for a few minutes on some plausible excuse, she told me all. +An inward complaint was manifesting itself, and it was hard to say how +it might terminate. The Belgian doctors had not been very reassuring +upon the point. On the morrow she was going to consult James Paget. + +"Does Blanche know?" I asked. + +"Not yet. I must see Mr. Paget before saying anything to her. If my +own fears are confirmed, I shall tell her. In that case I shall lose +no time in placing her at school." + +"At school!" + +"Why, yes, Charley. What else can be done? This will be no home for +her when I am out of it. Not at an ordinary school, though. I shall +send her to our old home, White Littleham Rectory. Mr. and Mrs. +Ravensworth are there still. She takes two or three pupils to bring up +with her own daughter, and will be glad of Blanche. There--we will put +that subject away for the present, Charley. I want to ask you about +something else, and Blanche will soon be back again. Do you see much +of Tom Heriot?" + +"I see him very rarely indeed. He is not quartered in London, you +know." + +"Charles, I am afraid--I am very much afraid that Tom is wild," she +went on, after a pause. "He came into his money last year: six +thousand pounds. We hear that he has been launching out into all sorts +of extravagance ever since. That must mean that he is drawing on his +capital." + +I had heard a little about Tom's doings myself. At least, Lake had +done so, which came to the same thing. But I did not say this. + +"It distresses me much, Charles. You know how careless and improvident +Tom is, and yet how generous-hearted. He will bring himself to ruin if +he does not mind, and what would become of him then? Major Carlen +says--Hush! here comes Blanche." + +I cannot linger over this part of my story. Mrs. Carlen died; and +Blanche was sent to White Littleham. + +And, indeed, of the next few passing years there is not much to +record. I obtained my certificate, as a matter of course. Then I +managed, by Mr. Brightman's kindness in sparing me, and by my uncle's +liberality, to keep a few terms at Oxford. I was twenty-three when I +kept the last term, and then I was sent for some months to Paris, to +make myself acquainted with law as administered in the French courts. +That over, arrangements were made for my becoming Mr. Brightman's +partner. If he had had sons, one of them would probably have filled +the position. Having none, he admitted me on easy terms, for I had my +brains about me, as the saying runs, and was excessively useful to the +firm. A certain sum was paid down by Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar, and the +firm became Brightman and Strange. I was to receive at first only a +small portion of the profits. And let me say here, that all my +expenses of every description, during these past years, had been +provided for by that good man, Charles Stillingfar, and provided +liberally. So there I was in an excellent position, settled for life +when only twenty-four years of age. + +After coming home from Paris to enter upon these new arrangements, I +found Mr. Brightman had installed a certain James Watts in Essex +Street as care-taker and messenger, our former man, Dickory, having +become old and feeble. A good change. Dickory, in growing old, had +grown fretful and obstinate, and liked his own way and will better +than that of his masters. Watts was well-mannered and well-spoken; +respectable and trustworthy. His wife's duties were to keep the rooms +clean, in which she was at liberty to have in a woman to help once or +twice a week if she so minded, and up to the present time to prepare +Mr. Brightman's daily luncheon. They lived in the rooms on the bottom +floor, one of which was their bedroom. + +"I like them both," I said to Mr. Brightman, when I had been back a +day or two. "Things will be comfortable now." + +"Yes, Charles; I hope you will find them so," he answered. + +For it ought to be mentioned that, in becoming Mr. Brightman's +partner, it had been settled that I should return as an inmate to the +house. He said he should prefer it. And, indeed, I thought I should +also. So that I had taken up my abode there at once. + +The two rooms on the ground floor were occupied by the clerks. Mr. +Lennard had his desk in the back one. Miss Methold's parlour, a few +steps lower, was now not much used, except that a client was sometimes +taken into it. The large front room on the first floor was Mr. +Brightman's private room; the back one was mine; but he had also a +desk in it. These two rooms opened to one another. The floor above +this was wholly given over to me; sitting-room, bedroom, and +dressing-room. The top floor was only used for boxes, and on those +rare occasions when someone wanted to sleep at the office. Watts and +his wife were to attend to me; she to see to the meals, he to wait +upon me. + +"I should let her get in everything without troubling, and bring up +the bills weekly, were I you, Charles," remarked Mr. Brightman, one +evening when he had stayed later than usual, and was in my room, and +we fell to talking of the man and his wife. "Much better than for her +to be coming to you everlastingly, saying you want this and you want +that. She is honest, I feel sure, and I had the best of characters +with both of them." + +"She has an honest face," I answered. "But it looks sad. And what a +silent woman she is. Speaking of her face though, sir, it puts me in +mind of someone's, and I cannot think whose." + +"You may have seen her somewhere or other," remarked Mr. Brightman. + +"Yes, but I can't remember where. I'll ask her." + +Mrs. Watts was then coming into the room with some water, which Mr. +Brightman had rung for. She looked about forty-five years old; a thin, +bony woman of middle height, with a pale, gray, wrinkled face, and +gray hairs banded under a huge cap, tied under her chin. + +"There's something about your face that seems familiar to me, Mrs. +Watts," I said, as she put down the glass and the bottle of water. +"Have I ever seen you before?" + +She was pouring out the water, and did not look at me. "I can't say, +sir," she answered in a low tone. + +"Do you remember _me_? That's the better question." + +She shook her head. "Watts and I lived in Ely Place for some years +before we came here, sir," she then said. "It's not impossible you may +have seen me in the street when I was doing the steps; but I never saw +you pass by that I know of." + +"And before that, where did you live?" + +"Before that, sir? At Dover." + +"Ah! well," I said, for this did not help me out with my puzzle; "I +suppose it is fancy." + +Mr. Brightman caught up the last word as Mrs. Watts withdrew. "Fancy, +Charles; that's what it must be. And fancy sometimes plays wonderful +tricks with us." + +"Yes, sir; I expect it is fancy. For all that, I feel perplexed. The +woman's voice and manner seem to strike a chord in my memory as much +as her face does." + + * * * * * + +"Captain Heriot, sir." + +Sitting one evening in my room at dusk in the summer weather, the +window open to the opposite wall and to the side view of the Thames, +waiting for Lake to come in, Watts had thus interrupted me to show in +Tom Heriot. I started up and grasped his hands. He was a handsome +young fellow, with the open manners that had charmed the world in the +days gone by, and charmed it still. + +"Charley, boy! It is good to see you." + +"Ay, and to see _you_, Tom. Are you staying in London?" + +"Why, we have been here for days! What a fellow you are, not to know +that we are now quartered here. Don't you read the newspapers? It used +to be said, you remember, that young Charley lived in a wood." + +I laughed. "And how are things with you, Tom?" + +"Rather down; have been for a long time; getting badder and badder." + +My heart gave a thump. In spite of his laughing air and bright smile, +I feared it might be too true. + +"I am going to the deuce, headlong, Charley." + +"Don't, Tom!" + +"Don't what? Not go or not talk of it? It is as sure as death, lad." + +"Have you made holes in your money?" + +"Fairly so. I think I may say so, considering that the whole of it is +spent." + +"Oh, Tom!" + +"Every individual stiver. But upon my honour as a soldier, Charley, +other people have had more of it than I. A lot of it went at once, +when I came into it, paying off back debts." + +"What shall you do? You will never make your pay suffice." + +"Sell out, I expect." + +"And then?" + +Tom shrugged his shoulders in answer. They were very slender +shoulders. His frame was slight altogether, suggesting that he might +not be strong. He was about as tall as I--rather above middle height. + +"Take a clerkship with you, at twenty shillings a week, if you'd give +it me. Or go out to the Australian diggings to pick up gold. How grave +you look, Charles!" + +"It is a grave subject. But I hope you are saying this in joke, Tom." + +"Half in joke, half in earnest. I will not sell out if I can help it; +be sure of that, old man; but I think it will have to come to it. Can +you give me something to drink, Charley? I am thirsty." + +"Will you take some tea? I am just going to have mine. Or anything +else instead?" + +"I was thinking of brandy and soda. But I don't mind if I do try tea, +for once. Ay, I will. Have it up, Charley." + +I rang the bell, and Mrs. Watts brought it up. + +"Anything else, sir?" she stayed to ask. + +"Not at present. Watts has gone out with that letter, I suppose?---- +Why, you have forgotten the milk!" + +She gave a sharp word at her own stupidity, and left the room. Tom's +eyes had been fixed upon her, following her to the last. He began +slowly pushing back his bright brown hair, as he would do in his +boyhood when anything puzzled him. + +"Oh, I remember," he suddenly exclaimed. "So you have _her_ here, +Charley!" + +"Who here?" + +"Leah." + +"_Leah!_ What do you mean?" + +"That servant of yours." + +"That is our messenger's wife: Mrs. Watts." + +"Mrs. Watts she may be now, for aught I know; but she was Leah +Williams when we were youngsters, Charley." + +"Impossible, Tom. This old woman cannot be Leah." + +"I tell you, lad, it is Leah," he persisted. "No mistake about it. At +the first moment I did not recollect her. I have a good eye for faces, +but she is wonderfully altered. Do you mean to say she has not made +herself known to you?" + +I shook my head. But even as Tom spoke, little items of remembrance +that had worried my brain began to clear themselves bit by bit. Mrs. +Watts came in with the milk. + +She had put it down on the tray when Tom walked up to her, holding out +his hand, his countenance all smiles, his hazel eyes dancing. + +"How are you, Leah, after all these years? Shake hands for auld lang +syne. Do you sing the song still?" + +Leah gave one startled glance and then threw her white apron up to her +face with a sob. + +"Come, come," said Tom kindly. "I didn't want to startle you, Leah." + +"I didn't think you would know me, sir," she said, lifting her +woebegone face. "Mr. Charles here did not." + +"Not know you! I should know you sooner than my best sweetheart," +cried Tom gaily. + +"Leah," I interposed, gravely turning to her, "how is it that you did +not let me know who you were? Why have you kept it from me?" + +She stood with her back against Mr. Brightman's desk, hot tears +raining down her worn cheeks. + +"I _couldn't_ tell you, Master Charles. I'm sorry you know now. It's +like a stab to me." + +"But why could you not tell me?" + +"Pride, I suppose," she shortly said. "I was upper servant at the +Rectory; your mamma's own maid, Master Charles: and I couldn't bear +you should know that I had come down to this. A servant of all +work--scrubbing floors and washing dishes." + +"Oh, that's nothing," struck in Tom cheerfully. "Most of us have our +ups and downs, Leah. As far as I can foresee, I may be scouring out +pots and pans at the gold-diggings next year. I have just been saying +so to Mr. Charley. Your second marriage venture was an unlucky one, I +expect?" + +Leah was crying silently. "No, it is not that," she answered presently +in a low tone. "Watts is a steady and respectable man; very much so; +above me, if anything. It--it--I have had cares and crosses of my own, +Mr. Tom; I have them always; and they keep me down." + +"Well, tell me what they are," said Tom. "I may be able to help you. I +will if I can." + +Leah sighed and moved to the door. "You are just as kind-hearted as +ever, Mr. Tom; I see that; and I thank you. Nobody can help me, sir. +And my trouble is secret to myself: one I cannot speak of to anyone in +the world." + +Just as kind-hearted as ever! Yes, Tom Heriot was that, and always +would be. Embarrassed as he no doubt was for money, he slipped a gold +piece into Leah's hand as she left the room, whispering that it was +for old friendship's sake. + +And so that was Leah! Back again waiting upon me, as she had waited +when I was a child. It was passing strange. + +I spoke to her that night, and asked her to confide her trouble to me. +The bare suggestion seemed to terrify her. + +"It was a dreadful trouble," she admitted in answer; "a nightly and +daily torment; one that at times went well-nigh to frighten her senses +away. But she must keep it secret, though she died for it." + +And as Leah whispered this to me under her breath, she cast dread +glances around the walls on all sides, as if she feared that +eaves-droppers might be there. + +What on earth could the secret be? + + * * * * * + +And now, for a time, I retire into the background, and cease +personally to tell the story. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +BLANCHE HERIOT. + + +On one of those promising days that we now and then see in February, +which seem all the more warm and lovely in contrast with the passing +winter, the parsonage of White Littleham put on its gayest appearance +within--perhaps in response to the fair face of nature without. A +group of four girls had collected in the drawing-room. One was taking +the brown holland covers from the chairs, sofa, and footstools; +another was bringing out certain ornaments, elegant trifles, displayed +only on state occasions; the other two were filling glasses with +evergreens and hot-house flowers. It was the same room in which you +once saw poor Mrs. Strange lying on her road to death. The parsonage +received three young ladies to share in the advantages of foreign +governesses, provided for the education of its only daughter, Cecilia. + +Whilst the girls were thus occupied, a middle-aged lady entered, the +mistress of the house, and wife of the Reverend John Ravensworth. + +"Oh, Mrs. Ravensworth, why did you come in? We did not want you to see +it until it was all finished." + +Mrs. Ravensworth smiled. "My dears, it will only look as it has looked +many a time before; as it did at Christmas--" + +"Mamma, you must excuse my interrupting you," cried the young girl who +was arranging the ornaments; "but it will look very different from +then. At Christmas we had wretched weather, and see it to-day. And at +Christmas we had not the visitors we shall have now." + +"We had one of the two visitors, at any rate, Cecilia." + +"Oh, yes, we had Arnold. But Arnold is nobody; we are used to him." + +"And Major Carlen is somebody," interposed the only beautiful girl +present, looking round from the flowers with a laugh. "Thank you, in +papa's name, Cecilia." + +Very beautiful was she: exceedingly fair, with somewhat haughty blue +eyes, delicate features, and fine golden hair. Blanche Heriot (as +often as not called Blanche Carlen at the Rectory) stood conspicuous +amidst the rest of the girls. They were pleasing-looking and +lady-like, but that was all. Rather above middle-height, slender, +graceful, she stood as a queen beside her companions. Under different +auspices, Blanche Heriot might have become vain and worldly; but, +enshrined as she had been for the last few years within the precincts +of a humble parsonage, and trained in its doctrines of practical +Christianity, Blanche had become thoroughly imbued with the +influences around her. Now, in her twentieth year, she was simple and +guileless as a child. + +It was so long since she had seen her father--as she was pleased to +call Major Carlen--that she had partly forgotten what he was like. He +was expected now on a two days' visit, and for him the house was being +made to look its best. The other visitor, coming by accident at the +same time, was Arnold Ravensworth, the Rector's nephew. + +Major Carlen's promised visit was an event to the quiet Rector and his +wife. All they knew of him was that he was step-father to Blanche, and +a man who moved in the gay circles of the world. The interest of +Blanche Heriot's money had paid for her education and dress. The Major +would have liked the fingering of it amazingly; but to covet is one +thing, to obtain is another. Blanche's money was safe in the hands of +trustees; but before Mrs. Carlen died she had appointed her husband +Blanche's personal guardian, with power to control her residence when +she should have attained her eighteenth year. That had been passed +some time now, and Major Carlen had just awakened to his +responsibilities. + +The first to arrive was Arnold Ravensworth, a distinguished-looking +man, with a countenance cold, it must be confessed, but full of +intellect. And the next to arrive was not the Major. The day passed on +to night. The trains came into the neighbouring station, but they did +not bring Major Carlen. Blanche cried herself to sleep. She remembered +how kind her papa used to be to her--indulging her and taking her +about to see sights--and she had cherished a great affection for him. +In fact, the Major had always indulged little Blanche. + +Neither had he come the next morning. After breakfast, Blanche went to +the end of the garden and stood looking out across the field. The +shady dingle, where as a little child she had sat to pick violets and +primroses, was there; but she was gazing at something else--the path +that would bring her father. Arnold Ravensworth came strolling up +behind her. + +"You know the old saying, Blanche: a watched-for visitor never comes." + +"Oh dear, why do you depress me, Arnold? To watch is something. I +shall cross the field and look up the road." + +They started off in the sunshine. Blanche had a pretty straw hat on. +She took the arm Mr. Ravensworth held out to her. Very soon, a +stranger turned into the field and came swinging towards them. + +"Blanche, is this the Major?" + +It was a tall, large-limbed, angular man in an old blue cloak lined +with scarlet. He had iron-gray hair and whiskers, gray, hard eyes, a +large twisted nose, and very white teeth. Blanche laughed merrily. + +"That papa! What an idea you must have of him, Arnold! Papa was a +handsome man with black hair, and had lost two of his front teeth. +They were knocked out, fighting with the Caffres." + +The stranger came on, staring intently at the good-looking young man +and the beautiful girl on his arm. Mr. Ravensworth spoke in a low +tone. + +"Are you quite sure, Blanche? Black hair turns gray, remember; and he +has a little travelling portmanteau under that cloak." + +Even as he spoke, something in the stranger's face struck upon Blanche +Heriot's memory. She disengaged herself and approached him, too +agitated to weigh her words. + +"Oh--I beg your pardon--are you not papa?" + +Major Carlen looked at her closely. "Are you Blanche?" + +"Yes, I am Blanche. Oh, papa!" + +The Major tucked his step-daughter under his own arm; and Mr. +Ravensworth went on to give notice of the arrival. + +"Papa, I never saw anyone so much altered!" + +"Nor I," interposed the Major. "I was wondering what deuced handsome +girl was strolling towards me. You are beautiful, Blanche; more so +than your mother was, and she was handsome." + +Blanche, confused though she felt at the compliment, could not return +it. + +"Who is that young fellow?" resumed the Major. + +"Arnold Ravensworth; Mr. Ravensworth's nephew. He lives in London, and +came down yesterday for a short visit." + +"Oh. Does he come often?" + +"Pretty often. We wish it was oftener. We like him to be here." + +"He seems presuming." + +"Dear papa! Presuming! He is not at all so. And he is very talented +and clever. He took honours at Oxford, and--" + +"I see," interrupted Major Carlen, displaying his large and regular +teeth--a habit of his when not pleased. He had rapidly taken up an +idea, and it angered him. "Is this the parson, Blanche? He looks very +sanctimonious." + +"Oh, papa!" she returned, feeling ready to cry at his contemptuous +tone. "He is the best man that ever lived. Everyone loves and respects +him." + +"Hope it's merited, my dear," concluded the Major, as he met the hand +of the Reverend John Ravensworth. + +Ere middle-day, the Major had scattered a small bombshell through the +parsonage by announcing that he had come to take his daughter away. +Blanche felt it bitterly. It was her home, and a happy one. To +exchange it for the Major's did not look now an inviting prospect. +Though she would not acknowledge it to her own heart, she was +beginning to regard him with more awe than love. That the resolution +must have been suddenly formed she knew, for he had not come down with +any intention of removing her. + +"Papa, my things can never be ready," was her last forlorn argument, +when others had failed. + +"Things?" said the Major. "Trunks, and clothes, and rattle-traps? +They can be sent after you, Blanche." + +"I have a bird," cried Blanche, her eyes filling. "There it is, in the +cage." + +"Leave it as a souvenir to the Rectory. Blanche, don't be a child. I +have pictured you as one hitherto, but now that I see you I find my +mistake. You must be thinking of other things, my dear." + +And thus Blanche Heriot was hurried away. All the parsonage escorted +her to the station, the girls in tears, and she almost heart-broken. + +Of late years Major Carlen had been almost always in debt and +difficulty. His property was mortgaged. His only certainty was his +half-pay; but he was lucky at cards, and often luckier at betting. He +retained his club and his visiting connection, and dined out three +parts of his time. Just now he was up in the world, having scored a +prize on some winter racecourse, and he was back in his house in +Gloucester Place. It had been let furnished for three years, portions +of which time the Major had spent abroad. + +"It will be very dull for me, papa," sighed Blanche, as they were +whirling along in an express train. "I dare say you are out all day +long, as you used to be." + +"Not dull at all," said the Major. "You must make Mrs. Guy take you +out and about." + +"Mrs. Guy!" exclaimed Blanche, her blue eyes opening widely. "Is she +in London?" + +"Yes, and a fine old guy she is; more ridiculously nervous than ever," +replied the Major. "She arrived unexpectedly from Jersey one evening +last week, and quartered herself upon Gloucester Place; for an +indefinite period, no doubt. She did this once before, if you +remember, in your poor mamma's time." + +"She will be something in the way of company for me," said Blanche +with another sigh. + +"Aye! She is a stupid goose, but you'll be safer under her wing and +mine than you would have been ruralising in the fields and the +parsonage garden with that Arnold Ravensworth. I have eyes, Miss +Blanche." + +So had Blanche, especially just then; and they were wide open and +fixed upon the Major. + +"Doing what, papa?" cried she. + +"I saw his drift: 'Blanche' this, and 'Blanche' the other, and his arm +put out for you at every turn! No, no; I do not leave you there to be +converted into Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth." + +Blanche clasped her hands and broke into merry laughter. "Oh, papa, +what an idea!--how could you imagine it? Why, he is going to marry +Mary Stopford." + +Major Carlen looked blank. Had he made all this inconvenient haste for +nothing? + +"Who the deuce is Mary Stopford?" + +"She lives in Devonshire. A pale, gentle girl with nice eyes: I have +seen her picture. Arnold wears it attached to a little chain inside +his waistcoat. They are to be married in the autumn when the House is +up. The very notion of my marrying Arnold Ravensworth!" broke off +Blanche with another laugh. A laugh that was quite sufficient to prove +the fact that she was heart-whole. + +"The House!" repeated the Major. "Who is he, then?" + +"He is very well off as to fortune, and is--something. It has to do +with the House, not as a Member, though he will be that soon, I +believe. I think he is secretary to one of the Ministers. His father +was the elder brother, and the Reverend John Ravensworth the younger. +There is a very great difference in their positions. Arnold is +well-off, and said to be a rising man." + +Every word increased Major Carlen's vexation. Even had his fear been +correct, it seemed that the young man would not have been an +undesirable match for Blanche, and he had saddled himself with her at +a most inconvenient moment! + +"Well, well," thought he; "she will soon make her mark, unless I am +mistaken, and there's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of +it." + +Mrs. Guy, widow of the late Admiral Guy, vegetating for years past +upon her slight income in Jersey, was Major Carlen's younger sister, +and a smaller edition of himself. She had the same generally +fair-featured face, with the twisted nose and the gray eyes; but while +his eyes were hard and fierce, hers were soft and kindly. She was a +well-meaning, but indescribably silly woman; and her nervous fears and +fancies had so grown upon her that they were becoming a disease. Lying +before the fire on a sofa in her bedroom, she received Blanche with a +flood of tears, supplemented by several moans. The tears were caused +by the pleased surprise; the moans at her having come home on a +Friday, for that must surely betoken ill-luck. Blanche was irreverent +enough to laugh. + + * * * * * + +Major Carlen still counted a few acquaintances of consideration in the +social world, and Miss Heriot was introduced to them. Mrs. Guy was +persuaded to temporarily forget her ailments, and to act as chaperon. +The Major gave his sister a new dress and bonnet, and a cap or two; +and as she had not yet quite done with vanity (has a woman _ever_ done +with it?), she fell before the bribe. + +He had been right in his opinion that Blanche's beauty would not fail +to make its mark. So charming a girl, so lovely of face and graceful +of form, so innocent of guile, had not been seen of late. Before the +spring had greatly advanced, a Captain Cross made proposals for her to +the Major. He was of excellent family, and offered fair settlements. +The Major accepted him, not deeming it at all necessary to consult his +daughter. + +Blanche rebelled. "I don't care for him, papa," she objected. + +The Major gave his nose a twist. He did not intend to have any trouble +with Blanche, and would not allow her to begin it. + +"Not care!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What does that matter? Captain +Cross is a fine man, stands six feet one, and you'll care for him in +time." + +"But, before I consent to marry him, I ought to know whether I shall +like him or not." + +"Blanche, you are a dunce! You have been smothered up in that +parsonage till you know nothing. Do you suppose that in our class of +society it is usual to fall in love, as the ploughboys and milkmaids +do? People marry first, and grow accustomed to each other afterwards. +Whatever you do, my dear, don't betray _gaucherie_ of that kind." + +Blanche Heriot doubted. She never supposed but that he whom she called +father had her true interest at heart, and must be so acting. Mrs. +Guy, too, unconsciously swayed her. A martyr to poverty herself, she +believed that in marrying one so well-off as Captain Cross, a girl +must enter upon the seventh heaven of happiness. Altogether, Blanche +yielded; yielded against her inclination and her better judgment. She +consented to marry Captain Cross, and preparations were begun. + +Meanwhile, Arnold Ravensworth had been an occasional visitor at Major +Carlen's, the Major making no sort of objection, now that +circumstances were explained: indeed, he encouraged him there, and was +especially cordial. Major Carlen had invariably one eye on the world +and the other on self-interest, and it occurred to him that a rising +man, as Arnold Ravensworth beyond doubt was, might prove useful to him +in one way or another. + +One evening, when it was yet only the beginning of April, Mr. +Ravensworth called in Gloucester Place, and found the Major alone. + +"Are Mrs. Guy and Blanche out?" he asked. + +"They are upstairs with the dressmaker," replied the Major. "We sent +to her to-day to spur on with Blanche's things, and she has come +to-night for fresh orders." + +"Is the marriage being hurried on, Major?" + +"Time is creeping on, sir," was the gruff answer. + +"Are they getting ahead with the settlements? When I saw you last +week, you were in a way at the delay, and said lawyers had only been +invented for one's torment." + +"They got on, after that, and the deeds were ready and waiting for +signature. But I dropped them a note yesterday to say they might burn +them, as so much waste paper," returned the Major. + +"Burn the settlements!" echoed Mr. Ravensworth. + +The Major's eyes, that could look pleasant on occasion, glinted at his +astonishment. "Those settlements are being replaced by heavier ones," +he said. "Blanche does not marry Captain Cross. It's off. A more +eligible offer has been made her, and Cross is dismissed." + +Mr. Ravensworth doubted whether he heard aright. Major Carlen resumed. +"And she was making herself miserable over it. She cannot endure +Cross." + +"What a disappointment for Cross! What a mortification! Will he accept +his dismissal?" + +"He will be obliged to accept it," returned the Major, pulling up his +shirt-collar, which was always high enough for two. "He has no other +choice left to him. A man does not die of love nowadays; or rush into +an action for breach of promise, and become a laughing-stock at his +club. Blanche marries Lord Level." + +"Lord Level!" Mr. Ravensworth repeated in a curious accent. + +"You look as though you doubted the information." + +"I do not relish it, for your daughter's sake," replied Mr. +Ravensworth. "She never can--can--like Lord Level." + +"What's the matter with Lord Level? He may be approaching forty, +but----" + +Mr. Ravensworth laughed. "Not just yet, Major Carlen." + +"Well, say he's thirty-four; thirty-three, if you like. Blanche, at +twenty, needs guiding. And if he is not as rich as some peers, he is +ten times richer than Cross. He met Blanche out, and came dangling +here after her. I did not give a thought to it, for I did not look +upon Level as a marrying man: he has been somewhat talked of in +another line----" + +"Yes," emphatically interrupted Mr. Ravensworth. "Well?" + +"Well!" irritably returned the Major: "then there's so much the more +credit due to him for settling down. When he found that Cross was +really expecting to have Blanche, and that he might lose her +altogether, he spoke up, and said he should like her himself." + +"Does Blanche approve of the exchange?" + +"She was rather inclined to kick at it," returned the Major, in his +respectable phraseology, "and we had a few tears.--But if you ask +questions in that sarcastic tone, sir, you don't deserve to be +answered. Not that Blanche wanted to keep Cross; she acknowledged +that she was only too thankful to be rid of him; but, about behaving +dishonourably, as she called it. 'My dear,' said I, 'there's your +absurd rusticity coming in again. You don't know the world. Such +things are done in high life every day.' She believed me, and was +reconciled. You look black as a thunder-cloud, Ravensworth. What right +have you to do so, pray?" + +"None in the world. I beg pardon. I was thinking of Blanche's +happiness." + +"You had better think of her good," retorted the Major. "She likes +Level. I don't say she is yet in love with him: but she did not like +Cross. Level is an attractive man, remember." + +"Has been rather too much so," cynically retorted Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Here she comes. I am going out; so you may offer your congratulations +at leisure." + +Major Carlen went away, and Blanche entered. She took her seat by the +fire, and as Mr. Ravensworth gazed down upon her, a feeling of deep +regret and pity came over him. Shame! thought he, to sacrifice her to +Level. For in truth that nobleman's name was not in the best odour, +and Arnold Ravensworth was a man of strict notions. + +It has been asserted that some natures possess an affinity the one for +the other; are irresistibly drawn together in the repose of full and +perfect confidence. It is a mysterious affinity, not born of _love_: +and it may be experienced by two men or women who have outlived even +the remembrance of the passion. Had Blanche Heriot been offered to +Arnold Ravensworth, he would have declined her, for he loved another, +and she had as much idea of loving the man in the moon as of loving +him. Nevertheless, that never-dying, unfathomable part of them, the +spirit, was attracted, like finding like. Between such, there can be +little reserve. + +"What unexpected changes take place, Blanche!" + +"Do not blame me," she replied, with a rising colour, her tone +sinking to a whisper. "My father says it is right, and I obey him." + +"I hope you like Lord Level?" + +"Better than I liked someone else," was her answer, as she looked into +the fire. "At first the--the change frightened me. It did not seem +right, and it was so very sudden. But I am getting over that feeling +now. Papa says he is very good." + +Papa says he is very good! The old hypocrite of a Major! thought Mr. +Ravensworth. But it was not his place to tell her that Lord Level had +not been very good. + +"Oh, Blanche!" he exclaimed, "I hope you will be happy! Is it to be +soon?" + +"Yes, they say so. As soon, I think, as the settlements can be ready. +Papa sent to-day to hurry on my wedding things. Lord Level is going +abroad immediately, and wishes to take me with him." + +"They say so!" was his mental repetition. "This poor child, brought up +in the innocence of her simple country home, more childish, more +tractable and obedient, more inexperienced than are those of less +years who have lived in the world, is as a puppet in their hands. But +the awakening will come." + +"You are going?" said Blanche, as he rose. "Will you not stay and take +tea? Mrs. Guy will be down soon." + +"Not this evening. Hark! here is the Major back again." + +"I do not think it is papa's step," returned Blanche, bending her ear +to listen. + +It was not. As she spoke, the door was thrown open by the servant. +"Lord Level." + +Lord Level entered, and took the hand which Mr. Ravensworth released. +Mr. Ravensworth looked full at the peer as he passed him: they were +not acquainted. A handsome man, with a somewhat free expression--a +countenance that Mr. Ravensworth took forthwith a prejudice against, +perhaps unjustly. "Who's that, Blanche?" he heard him say as the +servant closed the door. + +Lord Level was a fine, powerful man, of good height and figure; his +dark auburn hair was wavy and worn rather long, in accordance with +the fashion of the day. His complexion was fair and fresh, and his +features were good. Altogether he was what the Major had called him, +an attractive man. Blanche Heriot had danced with him and he had +danced with her; the one implies the other, you will say; and a liking +for one another had sprung up. It may not have been love on either +side as yet--but that is uncertain. + +"How lovely!" exclaimed Blanche, as he held out to her a small bouquet +of lilies-of-the-valley, and their sweet perfume caught her senses. + +"I brought them for you," whispered Lord Level; and he bent his face +nearer and took a silent kiss from her lips. It was the first time; +and Blanche blushed consciously. + +"You did not tell me who that was, Blanche." + +"Arnold Ravensworth," she replied. "You have heard me speak of him." + +"An ill-tempered looking man!" + +"Do you think so? Well, yes, perhaps he did look cross to-night. He +had been hearing about--about _us_--from papa; and I suppose it did +not please him." + +Archibald Baron Level drew himself up to his full height; his face +assumed its haughtiest expression. "What business is it of his?" he +asked. "Does he wish to aspire to you himself?" + +"Oh, no, no; he is soon to be married. He is a man of strict honour, +and I fear he thinks that papa--that I--that we have not behaved well +to Captain Cross." + +They were standing side by side on the hearth-rug, the fire-light +playing on them and on Blanche's shrinking face. How miserably +uncomfortable the subject of Captain Cross made her she could never +tell. + +"See here, Blanche," spoke Lord Level, after a pause. "I was given to +understand by Major Carlen that when Captain Cross proposed for you, +you refused him; that it was only by dint of pressure and persuasion +that you consented to the engagement. Major Carlen told me that as the +time went on you became so miserable under it, hating Captain Cross +with a greater dislike day by day, that he had resolved before I spoke +_to save you by breaking it off_. Was this the case, or not?" + +"Yes, it was. It is true that I felt wretchedly miserable in the +prospect of marrying Captain Cross. And oh, how I thank papa for +having himself resolved to break it off! He did not tell me that." + +"Because I have some honour of my own; and I would not take you +sneakingly from Cross, or any other man. You must come to me +above-board in all ways, Blanche, or not at all." + +Blanche felt her heart beating. She turned to glance at him, fearing +what he might mean. + +"So that if there is anything behind the scenes which has been kept +from me; that is, if it be not of your own good and free will +that you marry me; if you gave up Captain Cross _liking_ him, +because--because--well, though I feel ashamed to suggest such a +thing--because my rank may be somewhat higher than his, or for any +other reason: why then matters had better be at an end between us. No +harm will have been done, Blanche." + +Blanche's face was drawn and white. "Do you mean that you wish to give +me up?" + +"_Wish_ it! It would be the greatest pain I could ever know in life. +My dear, have you failed to understand me? I want you; I want you to +be my wife; but not at the sacrifice of my honour. If Captain +Cross----" + +Blanche broke down. "Oh, _don't_ leave me to him!" she implored. "Of +course, I could never, never marry him now; I would rather die. +Indeed, I do not quite know what you mean. It was all just as you have +been told by papa; there was nothing kept behind." + +Lord Level pillowed her head upon his arm. "Blanche, my dear, it was +you who invoked this," he whispered, "by talking of Mr. Ravensworth's +reflection on you in his 'strict honour.' Be assured I would not leave +you to Captain Cross unless compelled to do so, or to any other man." + +Her tears were falling. Lord Level kissed them away. + +"Shall I _buy_ you, my love?--bind you to me with a golden fetter?" +And, taking a small case from his waistcoat-pocket, he slipped upon +her marriage finger a hoop of gold, studded with diamonds. His +deep-gray eyes were strained upon her through their dark lashes--eyes +which had done mischief in their day--and her hand was lingering in +his. + +"There, Blanche; you see I have bought you; you are my property +now--my very own. And, my dear, the ring must be worn always as the +keeper of the marriage-ring when you shall be my wife." + +It was a most exquisite relief to her. Blanche liked him far better +than she had liked Captain Cross. And as Lord Level pressed his last +kiss upon her lips--for Mrs. Guy was heard approaching--Blanche could +never be sure that she did not return it. + +A few more interviews such as these, and the young lady would be in +love with him heart and soul. + + * * * * * + +And it may as well be mentioned, ere the chapter quite closes, that +Mr. Charles Strange was out of the way of all this plotting and +planning and love-making. The whole of that spring he was over in +Paris, watching a case involving English and French interests of +importance, that was on before the French courts, and of which +Brightman and Strange were the English solicitors. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +TRIED AT THE OLD BAILEY. + + +"Oh, Mrs. Guy, he is coming, after all! He is indeed!" + +Blanche Heriot's joyful tones, as she read the contents of a short +letter brought in by the evening post, aroused old Mrs. Guy, who was +dozing over her knitting one Tuesday evening in the May twilight. + +"Eh? What, my dear? Who do you say is coming?" + +"Tom. He says he must stretch a point for once. He cannot let anyone +else give me away." + +"The Major is to give you away, Blanche." + +"I know he intended to do so if Tom failed me. But Tom is my brother." + +"Well, well, child; settle it amongst yourselves. I don't see that it +matters one way or the other. There's a knock at the door! Dear me! It +must be Lord Level." + +"Lord Level cannot be back again before to-morrow. He is at Marshdale, +you know," dissented Blanche. "I think it may be Tom. I hope it is +Tom. He says here he shall be in town as soon as his letter." + +"Mr. Strange," announced a servant, throwing wide the drawing-room +door. + +Charles Strange had only that morning returned from Paris, having +crossed by the night mail. The legal business on which he and Mr. +Brightman were just now so much occupied, involving serious matters +for a client who lived in Paris, had kept Charles over there nearly +all the spring. Blanche ran to his arms. She looked upon him as her +brother, quite as much as she looked upon Tom. + +"And so, Blanche, we are to lose you," he said, when he had kissed +her. "And within a day or two, I hear." + +He knew very little of Blanche Heriot's approaching marriage, except +that the bridegroom was Archibald, Lord Level. And that little he had +heard from Mr. Brightman. Blanche did not write to him about it. She +had written to tell him she was going to be married to Captain Cross: +but when that marriage was summarily broken off by Major Carlen, +Blanche felt a little ashamed, and did not send word to Charles. + +"The day after to-morrow, at eleven o'clock in the morning," put in +Mrs. Guy, in response to the last remark. + +All his attention given to Blanche, Charles Strange really had not +observed the old lady. He turned to regard her. + +"You cannot have forgotten Mrs. Guy, Charles," said Blanche, noticing +his doubtful look. + +"I believe I had for the moment," he answered, in those pleasant, +cordial tones that won him a way with everyone, as he went up and +shook the old lady heartily by both hands. "I heard you were staying +here, Mrs. Guy, but I had forgotten it." + +They sat down--Blanche and Charles near the open window, Mrs. Guy not +moving from her low easy-chair on the hearthrug--and began to talk of +the wedding. + +"Tom is really coming up to give me away," said Blanche, showing him +Captain Heriot's short note. "It is _very_ good of him, for he must be +very busy: but Tom was always good. You are aware, Charles, I suppose, +that the regiment is embarking for India? Major Carlen saw the +announcement this morning in the _Times_." + +At that moment Charles Strange saw, or fancied he saw, a warning look +telegraphed to him by Mrs. Guy: and, placing it in conjunction with +Blanche's words, he fancied he must know its meaning. + +"Yes, I heard the regiment was ordered out," he answered shortly; and +turned the subject. "Will Lord Level be here tonight, Blanche? I +should like to see him." + +"No," she replied. "He went yesterday to Marshdale House, his place in +Surrey, and will not return until to-morrow. I think you will like +him, Charles." + +"I hope you do," replied Charles involuntarily. "That is the chief +consideration, Blanche." + +He looked at her meaningly as he spoke, and it brought a blush to her +face. What a lovely face it was--fair and pure, its blue eyes haughty +as of yore, its golden hair brilliant and abundant! She wore a simple +evening dress of white muslin, and a blue sash, an inexpensive +necklace of twisted blue beads on her neck, no bracelets at all on her +arms. She looked what she really was--an inexperienced school-girl. +Lord Level's engagement ring on her finger, with its flashing +diamonds, was the only ornament of value she had about her. + +In the momentary silence that ensued, Blanche left her seat and went +to stand at the open window. + +"Oh," she exclaimed, an instant later, "I do think this may be Tom! A +cab has stopped here." + +Charles Strange rose. Mrs. Guy lifted her finger, and he bent down to +her. Blanche was still at the window. + +"She does not know he has sold out," warningly breathed Mrs. Guy. "She +knows nothing of his wild ways, or the fine market he has brought his +eggs to, poor fellow. We have kept it from her." + +Charles nodded; and the servant opened the door with another +announcement. + +"Captain Heriot." Blanche flew across the room and was locked in her +brother's arms. + +Poor Tom Heriot had indeed, as Mrs. Guy expressed it, with more force +than elegance, brought his eggs to a fine market. It was some few +months now since he sold out of the Army; and what he was doing and +how he contrived to exist and flourish without money, his friends did +not know. During the spring he had made his appearance in Paris to +prefer an appeal for help to Charles, and Charles had answered it to +the extent of his power. + +Just as gay, just as light-hearted, just as _debonnaire_ as ever was +Tom Heriot. To see him and to hear him as he sat this evening with +them in Gloucester Place, you might have thought him as free from care +as an Eton boy--as flourishing as a duke-royal. Little blame to +Blanche that she suspected nothing of the existing state of things. + +When Charles rose to say "Good-night," Tom Heriot said it also, and +they went away together. + +"Charley, lad," said the latter, as the street-door closed behind +them, "could you put me up at your place for two nights--until after +this wedding is over?" + +"To be sure I can. Leah will manage it." + +"All right. I have sent a portmanteau there." + +"You did not come up from Southampton to-day, Tom? Blanche thought you +did." + +"And I am much obliged to them for allowing her to think it. I would +have staked my last five-pound note, if you'll believe me, Charley, +that old Carlen had not as much good feeling in him. I am vegetating +in London; have been for some time, Blanche's letter was forwarded to +me by a comrade who lets me use his address." + +"And what are you doing in London?" asked Charles. + +"Hiding my 'diminished head,' old fellow," answered Tom, with a laugh. +No matter how serious the subject, he could not be serious over it. + +"How much longer do you mean to stand here?" continued Charles--for +the Captain (people still gave him his title) had not moved from the +door. + +"Till an empty cab goes by." + +"We don't want a cab this fine night, Tom. Let us walk. Look how +bright the moon is up there." + +"Ay; my lady's especially bright tonight. Rather too much so for +people who prefer the shade. How you stare, Charley! Fact is, I feel +safer inside a cab just now than parading the open streets." + +"Afraid of being taken for debt?" whispered Charles. + +"Worse than that," said Tom laconically. + +"Worse than that!" repeated Charles. "Why, what do you mean?" + +"Oh, nothing," and Tom Heriot laughed again. "Except that I am in the +deuce's own mess, and can't easily get out of it. There's a cab! Here, +driver! In with you, Charley." + + * * * * * + +And on the following Thursday, when his sister's marriage with Lord +Level took place, who so gay, who so free from care, who so attractive +as Tom Heriot?--when giving her away. Lord Level had never before seen +his future brother-in-law (or _half_ brother-in-law, as the more +correct term would be), and was agreeably taken with him. A random +young fellow, no doubt, given to playing the mischief with his own +prospects, but a thorough gentleman, and a very prepossessing one. + +"And this is my other brother--I have always called him so," whispered +Blanche to her newly-made husband, as she presented Charles Strange to +him on their return from church to Gloucester Place. Lord Level shook +hands heartily; and Charles, who had been prejudiced against his +lordship, of whom tales were told, took rather a liking to the tall, +fine man of commanding presence, of handsome face and easy, genial +manners. + +After the breakfast, to which very few guests were bidden, and at +which Mrs. Guy presided, as well as her nerves permitted, at one end +of the table and Major Carlen at the other, Lord and Lady Level +departed for Dover on their way to the Continent. + +And in less than a week after the wedding, poor Thomas Heriot, who +could not do an unkind action, who never had been anyone's enemy in +the whole world, and never would be anyone's, except his own, was +taken into custody on a criminal charge. + +The blow came upon Charles Strange as a clap of thunder. That Tom was +in a mess of some kind he knew well; nay, in half a dozen messes most +likely; but he never glanced at anything so terrible as this. Tom had +fenced with his questions during the day or two he stayed in Essex +Street, and laughed them off. What the precise charge was, Charles +could not learn at the first moment. Some people said felony, some +whispered forgery. By dint of much exertion and inquiry, he at last +knew that it was connected with "Bills." + +Certain bills had been put into circulation by Thomas Heriot, and +there was something wrong about them. At least, about one of them; +since it bore the signature of a man who had never seen the bill. + +"I am as innocent of it as a child unborn," protested Thomas Heriot to +Charles, more solemnly in earnest than he had ever been heard to +speak. "True, I got the bills discounted: accommodation bills, you +understand, and they were to have been provided for; but that any +good name had been _forged_ to one of them, I neither knew nor dreamt +of." + +"Yet you knew the good name was there?" + +"But I thought it had been genuinely obtained." + +This was at the first interview Charles held with him in prison. +"Whence did you get the bills?" Charles continued. + +"They were handed to me by Anstey. He is the true culprit in all this, +Charles, and he is slinking out of it, and will get off scot-free. +People warned me against the fellow; said he was making a cat's-paw of +me; and by Jove it's true! I could not see it then, but my eyes are +open now. He only made use of me for his own purposes. He had all, or +nearly all, the money." + +And this was just the truth of the business. The man Anstey, a +gentleman once, but living by his wits for many years past, had got +hold of light-headed, careless Tom Heriot, cajoled him of his +friendship, and _used_ him. Anstey escaped completely "scot-free," +and Tom suffered. + +Tom was guilty in the eyes of the law; and the law only takes +cognizance of its own hard requirements. After examination, he was +committed for trial. Charles Strange was nearly wild with distress; +Mr. Brightman was much concerned; Arthur Lake (who was now called to +the Bar) would have moved heaven and earth in the cause. Away went +Charles to Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar: and that renowned special pleader +and good-hearted man threw his best energies into the cause. + +All in vain. At the trial, which shortly came on at the Old Bailey, +Mr. Serjeant Stillingfar exerted his quiet but most telling eloquence +uselessly. He might as well have wasted it on the empty air. Though +indeed it did effect something, causing the sentence pronounced upon +the unfortunate prisoner to be more lenient than it otherwise would +have been. Thomas Heriot was sentenced to be transported for seven +years. + +Transportation beyond the seas was still in force then. And Thomas +Heriot, with a cargo of greater or lesser criminals, was shipped on +board the transport _Vengeance_, to be conveyed to Botany Bay. + +It seemed to have taken up such a little space of time! Very little, +compared with the greatness of the trouble. June had hardly come in +when Tom was first taken; and the _Vengeance_ sailed the beginning of +August. + +If Mrs. Guy had lamented beforehand the market that poor Tom Heriot +had "brought his eggs to," what did she think of it now? + + * * * * * + +One evening in October a nondescript sort of vehicle, the German +makers of which could alone know the name, arrived at a small village +not far from the banks of the Rhine, clattering into the yard of the +only inn the place contained. A gentleman and lady descended from it, +and a parley ensued with the hostess, more protracted than it might +have been, in consequence of the travellers' imperfect German, and +her own imperfect French. Could madame accommodate them for the night, +was the substance of their demand. + +"Well--yes," was madame's not very assured answer: "if they could put +up with a small bedroom." + +"How small?" + +She opened the door of--it was certainly not a room, though it might +be slightly larger than a boot-closet; madame called it a +cabinet-de-toilette. It was on the ground-floor, looking into the +yard, and contained a bed, into which one person might have crept, +provided he bargained with himself not to turn; but two people, never. +Three of her beds were taken up with a milor and miladi Anglais, and +their attendants. + +Mrs. Ravensworth--a young wife--turned to her husband, and spoke in +English. "Arnold, what can we do? We cannot go on in the dark, with +such roads as these." + +"My love, I see only one thing for it: you must sleep here, and I +must sit up." + +Madame interrupted; it appeared she added a small stock of English to +her other acquirements. "Oh, but dat meeseraable for monsieur: he +steef in legs for morning." + +"And stiff in arms too," laughed Arnold Ravensworth. "Do try and find +us a larger bedroom." + +"Perhaps the miladi Anglaise might give up one of her rooms for dis +one," debated the hostess, bustling away to ask. + +She returned, followed by an unmistakable Englishwoman, fine both in +dress and speech. Was _she_ the miladi? She talked enough for one: +vowing she would never give up her room to promiscuous travellers, who +prowled about with no _avant courier_, taking their own chance of +rooms and beds; and casting, as she spoke, annihilating glances at the +benighted wanderers. + +"Is anything the matter, Timms?" inquired a gentle voice in the +background. + +Mr. Ravensworth turned round quickly, for its tones struck upon his +remembrance. There stood Blanche, Lady Level; and their hands +simultaneously met in surprise and pleasure. + +"Oh, this is unexpected!" she exclaimed. "I never should have thought +of seeing you in this remote place. Are you alone?" + +He drew his wife to his side. "I need not say who she is, Lady Level." + +"Are you married, then?" + +"Ask Mary." + +It was an unnecessary question, seeing her there with him, and Lady +Level felt it to be so, and smiled. Timms came forward with an +elaborate apology and a string of curtseys, and hoped her room would +be found good enough to be honoured by any friends of my lady's. + +Lady Level's delight at seeing them seemed as unrestrained as a +child's. Exiles from their native land can alone tell that to meet +with home faces in a remote spot is grateful as the long-denied water +to the traveller in the Eastern desert. And we are writing of days +when to travel abroad was the exception, rather than the rule. "There +is only one private sitting-room in the whole house, and that is mine, +so you must perforce make it yours as well," cried Lady Level, as she +laughingly led the way to it. "And oh! what a charming break it will +be to my loneliness! Last night I cried till bedtime." + +"Is not Lord Level with you?" inquired Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Lord Level is in England. While they are getting Timms' room ready, +will you come into mine?" she added to Mrs. Ravensworth. + +"How long have you been married?" was Lady Level's first question as +they entered it. + +"Only last Tuesday week." + +"Are you happy?" + +"Oh yes." + +"I knew your husband long before you did," added Lady Level. "Did he +ever tell you so? Did he ever tell you what good friends we were? +Closer friends, I think, than he and his cousin Cecilia. He used to +come to White Littleham Rectory, and we girls there made much of him." + +"Yes, he has often told me." + +Mrs. Ravensworth was arranging her hair at the glass, and Lady Level +held the light for her and looked on. The description given of her by +Blanche to her father was a very good one. A pale, gentle girl, with +nice eyes, dark, inexpressively soft and attractive. "I shall like you +very much," suddenly exclaimed Lady Level. "I think you are very +pretty--I mean, you have the sort of face I like to look at." Praise +that brought a blush to the cheeks of Mrs. Ravensworth. + +The landlady sent them in the best supper she could command at the +hour; mutton chops, served German fashion, and soup, which Lady +Level's man-servant, Sanders, who waited on them, persisted in calling +the potash--and very watery potash it was, flavoured with cabbage. +When the meal was over, and the cloth removed, they drew round the +fire. + +"Do you ever see papa?" Lady Level inquired of Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Now and then. Not often. He has let his house again in Gloucester +Place, and Mrs. Guy has gone back to the Channel Islands." + +"Oh yes, I know all that," replied Blanche. + +"The last time I saw Major Carlen he spoke of you--said that you and +Lord Level were making a protracted stay abroad." + +"Protracted!" Blanche returned bitterly; "yes, it is protracted. I +long to be back in England, with a longing that has now grown into a +disease. You have heard of the _mal du pays_ that sometimes attacks +the Swiss when they are away from their native land; I think that same +malady has attacked me." + +"But why?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, looking at her. + +"I hardly know," she said, with some hesitation. "I had never been out +of England before, and everything was strange to me. We went to +Switzerland first, then on to Italy, then back again. The longer we +stayed away from England, the greater grew my yearning for it. In +Savoy I was ill; yes, I was indeed; we were at Chambery; so ill as to +require medical advice. It was on the mind, the doctor said. He was a +nice old man, and told Lord Level that I was pining for my native +country." + +"Then, of course, you left for home at once?" + +"We left soon, but we travelled like snails; halting days at one +place, and days at another. Oh, I was so sick of it! And the places +were all dull and retired, as this is; not those usually frequented by +the English. At last we arrived here; to stay also, it appeared. When +I asked why we did not go on, he said he was waiting for letters from +home." + +As Lady Level spoke she appeared to be lost in the past--an expression +that you may have observed in old people when they are telling you +tales of their youth. Her eyes were fixed on vacancy, and it was +evident that she saw nothing of the objects around her, only the time +gone by. She appeared to be anything but happy. + +"Something up between my lord and my lady," thought Mr. Ravensworth. +"Had your husband to wait long for the expected letters?" he asked +aloud. + +"I do not know: several came for him. One morning he had one that +summoned him to England without the loss of a moment, and he said +there was not time for me to be ready to accompany him. I prayed to go +with him. I said Timms could come on afterwards with the luggage. It +was of no use." + +"Would he not take you?" exclaimed Mrs. Ravensworth, her eyes full of +the astonishment her lips would not express. + +Blanche shook her head. "No. He was quite angry with me; said I did +not understand my position--that noblemen's wives could not travel in +that unceremonious manner. I was on the point of telling him that I +wished, to my heart, I had never been a nobleman's wife. Why did he +marry me, unless he could look upon me as a companion and friend?" +abruptly continued Lady Level, perhaps forgetting that she was not +alone. "He treats me as a child." + +What answer could be made to this? + +"When do you expect him back again?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, after a +pause. + +"How do I know?" flashed Lady Level, her tone proving how +inexpressibly sore was the subject. "He said he should return for me +in a few days, but nearly three weeks have gone by, and I am still +here. They have seemed to me like three months. I shall be ill if it +goes on much longer." + +"Of course you hear from him?" + +"Oh yes, I hear from him. A few lines at a time, saying he will come +for me as soon as he possibly can, and that I must not be impatient. I +wanted to go over alone, and he returned me such an answer, asking +what I meant by wishing to travel with servants only at my age. I +shall do something desperate if I am left here another week." + +"As you once did at White Littleham when they forbade your going to a +concert, thinking you were too ill!" laughed Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Dressed myself up in my best frock, and surprised them in the room. I +had ten pages of Italian translation for that escapade." + +"Do you like Italy?" he inquired, after a pause. + +"No, I hate it!" And the animus in Lady Level's answer was so intense +that the husband and wife exchanged stolen glances. _Something_ must +be out of gear. + +"What parts of Italy did you stay in?" + +"Chiefly at Pisa--that is not far from Florence, you know; and a few +days at Florence. Lord Level took a villa at Pisa for a month--and why +he did so I could not tell, for it was not the season when the +English frequent it: no one, so to say, was there. We made the +acquaintance of a Mrs. Page Reid, who had the next villa to ours." + +"That was pleasant for you--if you liked her." + +"But I did not like her," returned Lady Level, her delicate cheeks +flushing. "That is, I did and I did not. She was a very pleasant +woman, always ready to help us in any way; but she told dreadful tales +of people--making one suspect things that otherwise would never have +entered the imagination. Lord Level liked her at first, and ended by +disliking her." + +"Got up a flirtation with her," thought Mr. Ravensworth. But in that +he was mistaken. And so they talked on. + +It appeared that the mail passed through the village at night time; +and the following morning a letter lay on the breakfast-table for Lady +Level. + + MY DEAR BLANCHE,--I have met with a slight accident, and must + again postpone coming to you for a few days. I dare say it + will not detain me very long. Rely upon it I shall be with you + as soon as I possibly can be.--Ever affectionately yours, + LEVEL. + +"Short and sweet!" exclaimed Blanche, in her bitter disappointment, as +she read the note at the window. "Arnold, when you and your wife leave +to-morrow, what will become of me, alone here? If----" + +Suddenly, as Lady Level spoke the last word, she started, and began to +creep away from the window, as if fearing to be seen. + +"Arnold! Arnold! who do you think is out there?" she exclaimed in a +timid whisper. + +"Why, who?" in astonishment. "Not Lord Level?" + +"It is Captain Cross," she said with a shiver. "I would rather meet +the whole world than him. My behaviour to him was--was not right; and +I have felt ashamed of myself ever since." + +Mr. Ravensworth looked out from the window. Captain Cross, seated on +the bench in the inn yard, was solacing himself with a cigar. + +"I would not meet him for the world! I would not let him see me: he +might make a scene. I shall stay in my rooms all day. Why does my +husband leave me to such chances as these?" + +That Captain Cross had not been well used was certain; but the fault +lay with Major Carlen, not with Blanche. Mr. Ravensworth spoke. + +"Take my advice, Lady Level. Do not place yourself in Captain Cross's +way, but do not run from him. I believe him to be a gentleman; and, if +so, he will not say or do anything to annoy you. I will take care he +does not, as long as I remain here." + +In the course of the morning Captain Cross and Arnold Ravensworth met. +"I find Lady Level's here!" the Captain abruptly exclaimed. "Are you +staying with her?" + +"I and my wife arrived here only last night, and were surprised to +meet Lady Level." + +"Where's _he_?" asked Captain Cross. + +"In England." + +"He in England and she here, and only six months married! Estranged, I +suppose. Well, what else could she expect? People mostly reap what +they sow." + +Arnold Ravensworth laughed good-humouredly. _He_ was not going to give +a hint of the state of affairs that he suspected himself. + +"You are prejudiced, Cross. Miss Heriot was not to blame for what +happened. She was a child: and they did with her as they pleased." + +"A child! Old enough to engage herself to one man, and to marry +another," retorted Captain Cross, in a burst of angry feeling. "And +Level, of all people!"--with sarcastic scorn. "Why does he leave her +in Germany whilst he stays gallivanting in England? What do you say? +Met with an accident, and _can't_ come for her? That's _his_ tale, I +suppose. You may repeat it to the Marines, old boy; it won't do for +me. _I_ know Level; knew him of old." + +Lady Level was as good as her word: she did not stir out of her rooms +all day. On the following morning when Mr. Ravensworth came out of his +chamber, he saw, from the corridor window, a travelling-carriage in +the yard, packed. By the coat-of-arms he knew it for Lord Level's. +Timms moved towards him in a flutter of delight. + +"Oh, if you please, sir, breakfast is on the table, and my lady is +waiting there, ready dressed. We are going to England, sir." + +"Has Lord Level come?" + +"No, sir: we are going with you. My lady gave orders, last night, to +pack up for home. It is the happiest day I've known, sir, since I set +foot in these barbarious countries." + +Lady Level met him at the door of the breakfast-room; "ready dressed," +as Timms expressed it, for travelling, even to her bonnet. + +"Do you really mean to go with us?" he exclaimed. + +"Yes," was her decisive reply. "That is, you must go with me. Stay +here longer, I will not. I tell you, Arnold, I am sick to death of it. +If Lord Level is ill and unable to come for me, I am glad to embrace +the opportunity of travelling under your protection: he can't grumble +at that. Besides----" + +"Besides what?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, for she suddenly stopped. + +"I do not choose to remain at an inn in which Captain Cross has taken +up his abode: neither would my husband wish me to do so. After you and +Mrs. Ravensworth left me last night, I sat over the wood fire, +thinking these things over, and made my mind up. If I have not +sufficient money for the journey, and I don't think I have, I must +apply to you, Arnold." + +Whether Mr. Ravensworth approved or disapproved of the decision, he +had no power to alter it. Or, rather, whether Lord Level would approve +of it. After a hasty breakfast, they went down to the carriage, which +had already its array of five horses harnessed to it; Sanders and +Timms perched side-by-side in their seat aloft. The two ladies were +helped in by Mr. Ravensworth. Captain Cross leaned against the outer +wall of the _salle-a-manger_, watching the departure. He approached +Mr. Ravensworth. + +"Am I driving her ladyship off?" + +"Lady Level is going to England with us, to join her husband. I told +you he had met with an accident." + +"A merry meeting to them!" was the sarcastic rejoinder. And, as the +carriage drove out of the inn-yard, Captain Cross deliberately lifted +his hat to Lady Level: but lifted it, she thought, in mockery. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE VINE-COVERED COTTAGE AT PISA. + + +That Archibald, Lord Level, had been a gay man, fond of pleasure, fond +of talking nonsense to pretty women, the world knew well: and perhaps, +world-fashion, admired him none the less for it. But his wife did not +know it. When Blanche Heriot became Blanche Level she was little more +than an innocent child, entirely unversed in the world's false ways. +She esteemed her husband; ay, and loved him, in a measure, and she was +happy for a time. + +It is true that while they were staying in Switzerland a longing for +home came over her. They had halted in Paris for nearly a fortnight +on their outward route. Some very nice people whom Lord Level knew +were there; they were delighted with the fair young bride, and she was +delighted with them. Blanche was taken about everywhere, no one being +more anxious for her amusement than Lord Level himself. But one +morning, in the very midst of numerous projected expeditions, he +suddenly told Blanche that they must continue their journey that day. + +"Oh, Archibald!" she had answered in a sort of dismay. "Why, it is +this very afternoon that we were going to Fontainebleau!" + +"My dear, you shall see Fontainebleau the next time we are in Paris," +he said. "I have a reason for wishing to go on at once." + +And they went on. Blanche was far too good and dutiful a wife to +oppose her own will to her husband's, or to grumble. They went +straight on to Switzerland--travelling in their own carriage--but +instead of settling himself in one of those pretty dwellings on the +banks of Geneva's lake, as he had talked of to Blanche, Lord Level +avoided Geneva altogether, and chose a fearfully dull little village +as their place of abode. Very lovely as to scenery, it is true; but +quite unfrequented by travellers. It was there that Blanche first +began to long for home. + +Next, they went on to Italy, posting straight to Pisa, and there Lord +Level took a pretty villa for a month in the suburbs of the town. Pisa +itself was deserted: it was hot weather; and Blanche did not think it +had many attractions. Lord Level, however, seemed to find pleasure in +it. He knew Pisa well, having stayed at it in days gone by. He made +Blanche familiar with the neighbourhood; together they admired and +wondered at the Leaning Tower, in its green plain, backed by distant +mountains; but he also went out and about a good deal alone. + +One English dame of fashion was sojourning in the place--a widow, +Mrs. Page Reid. She occupied the next villa to theirs, and called upon +them; and she and Lady Level grew tolerably intimate. She was a +talkative, gay woman of thirty--and beside her Blanche seemed like a +timid schoolgirl. + +One evening, when dinner was over, Lord Level strolled out--as he +often did--leaving his wife with Mrs. Page Reid, who had dined with +them. The two ladies talked together, and sang a song or two; and so +whiled away the time. + +"Let us go out for a stroll, too!" exclaimed Mrs. Page Reid, speaking +on a momentary impulse, when she found the time growing monotonous. + +Blanche readily agreed. It was a most lovely night; the moon bright +and silvery in the Italian sky. Putting on some fleecy shawls, the +ladies went down the solitary road, and turned by-and-by into a narrow +lane that looked like a grove of evergreens. Soon they came to a +pretty dwelling-place on the left, half villa, half cottage. Vines +grew up its trellised walls, flowers and shrubs crowded around it. + +"A charming little spot!" cried Mrs. Page Reid, as they halted to peep +through the hedge of myrtles that clustered on each side the low +entrance-gate. "And two people are sitting there--lovers, I dare say," +she added, "telling their vows under the moonbeams." + +In front of the vine-wreathed window, on a bench overhung by the +branches of the trailing shrubs, the laurels and the myrtles, sat two +young people. The girl was tall, slender, graceful; her dark eyes had +a flashing fire even in the moonlight; her cheeks wore a rose-red +flush. + +"How pretty she is!" whispered Blanche. "Look at her long gold +earrings! And he---- Oh!" + +"What's the matter?" cried Mrs. Page Reid, the tone of the last word +startling her. + +"It is my husband." + +"Nonsense!" began Mrs. Page Reid. But after one doubting, +disbelieving look, she saw that it was so. Catching Blanche's hand, +she drew her forcibly away, and when they had gained the highroad, +burst into a long, low laugh. + +"Don't think about it, dear," she said to Blanche. "It's nothing. The +best of husbands like to amuse themselves behind our backs." + +"Perhaps he was--was--inquiring the way--or something," hazarded +Blanche, whose breath was coming rather faster than usual. + +Mrs. Page Reid nearly choked. "Oh, to be sure!" she cried, when she +could speak. + +"You don't think so? You think it was--something else?" + +"You are only a little goose, my dear, in the ways of the world," +rejoined Mrs. Page Reid. "Where's the man that does not like to talk +with a pretty woman? Lord Level, of all others, does." + +"_He_ does?" + +"Well, he used to do so. Of course he has mended his manners. And the +women, mind you, liked to talk to him. But don't take up the notion, +please, that by saying that I insinuate any unorthodox talking," added +Mrs. Page Reid as an after-thought, when she caught a look at Lady +Level's tell-tale countenance. + +"I shall ask Lord Level----" + +"_Ask nothing_," impressively spoke the elder lady, cutting short the +words. "Say nothing to your husband. Take my advice, Lady Level, for +it is good. There is no mortal sin a wife can commit so repugnant in +her husband's eyes as that of spying upon his actions. It would make +him detest her in the end." + +"But I was not spying. We saw it by accident." + +"All the same. Let it pass from your mind as though it had never +been." + +Blanche was dubious. _If_ there was no harm, why should she not speak +of it?--and she could not think there was harm. And if there +_was_--why, she would not have breathed it to him for the world. +Dismissing the subject, she and Mrs. Page Reid sat down to a quiet +game at cards. When Lord Level came in, their visitor said good-night. + +Blanche sat on in silence and torment. Should she speak, or should she +not? Lord Level seemed buried in a reverie. + +"Archibald," she presently began. + +"Yes," he answered, rousing himself. + +"I--we--I and Mrs. Page Reid went out for a little walk in the +moonlight. And----" + +"Well, my dear?" + +"We saw you," Blanche was wishing to say; but somehow her courage +failed her. Her breath was short, her throat was beating. + +"And it was very pleasant," she went on. "As warm and light as day." + +"Just so," said Lord Level. "But the night air is treacherous, apt to +bring fever. Do not go out again in it, love." + +So her effort to speak had failed. And the silence only caused her to +think the more. Blanche Level would have given her best diamond +earrings to know who that person was in the gold ones. + +An evening or two further on, when she was quite alone, Lord Level +having again strolled out, she threw on the same fleecy shawl and +betook herself down the road to the cottage in the grove--the cottage +that looked like a pretty bower in the evergreens. And--yes---- + +Well, it was a strange thing--a startling thing; startling, anyway, to +poor Blanche Level's heart; but there, on the self-same bench, side by +side, sat Lord Level and the Italian girl. Her face looked more +beautiful than before to the young wife's jealous eyes; the gold +earrings glittered and sparkled in the moonlight. He and she were +conversing in a low, earnest voice, and Lord Level was smoking a +cigar. + +Blanche stood rooted to the spot, shivering a little as she peered +through the myrtle hedge, but never moving. Presently the young woman +lifted her head, called out "Si," and went indoors, evidently in +answer to a summons. + +"Nina," sang out Lord Level. "Nina"--raising his voice higher--"I have +left my cigar-case on the table; bring it to me when you come out +again." + +He spoke in English. The next minute the girl returned, cigar-case in +hand. She took her place by his side, as before, and they fell to +talking again. + +Lady Level drew away. She went home with flagging steps and a bitterly +rebellious heart. + +Not to her husband would she speak; her haughty lips were sealed to +him--and should be ever, she resolved in her new pain. But she gave a +hint the next day of what she had again seen to Mrs. Page Reid. + +That lady only laughed. To her mind it was altogether a rich joke. Not +only the affair itself, but Blanche's ideas upon it. + +"My dear Lady Level," she rejoined, "as I said before, you are very +ignorant of the ways of the world. I assure you our husbands like to +chatter to others as well as to us. Nothing wrong, of course, you +understand; the mistake is, if we so misconstrue it. Lord Level is a +very attractive man, you know, and has had all sorts of escapades." + +"I never knew that he had had them." + +"Well, it is hardly likely he would tell you of them before you were +his wife. He will tell you fast enough some day." + +"Won't you tell me some of them now?" + +Blanche was speaking very equably, as if worldly wisdom had come to +her all at once; and Mrs. Page Reid began to ransack her memory for +this, that, or the other that she might have heard of Lord Level. As +tales of scandal never lose by carrying, she probably converted +mole-hills into mountains; most assuredly so to Blanche's mind. +Anyway, she had better have held her tongue. + +From that time, what with one doubt and another, Lady Level's regard +for her lord was changed. Her feeling towards him became most bitter. +Resentment?--indignation?--neither is an adequate word for it. + +At the week's end they left Pisa, for the month was up, and travelled +back by easy stages to Savoy. Blanche wanted to go direct to England, +but Lord Level objected: he said she had not yet seen enough of +Switzerland. It was in Savoy that her illness came on--the mal du +pays, as they called it. When she grew better, they started towards +home; travelling slowly and halting at every available spot. That his +wife's manner had changed to him, Lord Level could only perceive, but +he had no suspicion of its cause. He put it down to her anger at his +keeping her so long away from England. + +The morning after they arrived at the inn in Germany (of which mention +has been made) Lord Level received a letter, which seemed to disturb +him. It was forwarded to him by a banker in Paris, to whom at present +all his letters were addressed. Telling Blanche that it contained +news of some matter of business upon which he must start for London +without delay, he departed; declining to listen to her prayer that she +might accompany him, but promising to return for her shortly. It was +at that inn that Arnold Ravensworth and his wife found Lady Level: and +it was with them she journeyed to England. + +And here we must give a few words to Lord Level himself. He crossed +the Channel by the night mail to Dover, and reached London soon after +daybreak. In the course of the day he called at his bankers', Messrs. +Coutts and Co., to inquire for letters: orders having now been given +by him to Paris to forward them to London. One only awaited him, which +had only just then come in. + +As Lord Level read it, he gave utterance to a word of vexation. For it +told him that the matter of business upon which he had hurried over +was put off for a week: and he found that he might just as well have +remained in Germany. + +The first thought that crossed his mind was--should he return to his +wife? But it was hardly worth while doing so. So he took rooms in +Holles Street, at a comfortable house where he had lodged before, and +looked up friends and acquaintances at his club. But he did not let +that first day pass without calling on Charles Strange. + +The afternoon was drawing to an end in Essex Street, and Charles was +in his own private room, all his faculties given to a deed, when Lord +Level was shown in. It was for Charles he asked, not for Mr. +Brightman. + +"What an awful business this is!" began his lordship, when greetings +had passed. + +Charles lifted his hands in dismay. No need to ask to whom the remark +applied: or to mention poor Tom Heriot by name. + +"Could _nothing_ be done, Mr. Strange?" demanded the peer in his +coldest and haughtiest tones. "Were there _no_ means that could have +been taken to avert exposure?" + +"Yes, I think there might have been, but for Tom's own careless +folly: and that's the most galling part of it," returned Charles. "Had +he only made a confidant of me beforehand, we should have had a try +for it. If I could not have found the money myself, Mr. Brightman +would have done so." + +"You need only have applied to me," said Lord Level. "I should not +have cared how much I paid--to prevent exposure." + +"But in his carelessness, you see, he never applied to anyone; he +allowed the blow to fall upon him, and then it was too late----" + +"Was he a fool?" interjected Lord Level. + +"There is this excuse for his not speaking: he did not know that +things were so bad, or that the people would proceed to extremities." + +The peer drew in his haughty lips. "Did he tell you that pretty +fable?" + +"Believe this much, Lord Level: what Tom _said_, he _thought_. Anyone +more reprehensibly light and heedless I do not know, but he is +incapable of falsehood. And in saying that he did not expect so grave +a charge, or believe there were any grounds on which it could be +made, I am sure he spoke only the truth. He was drawn in by one +Anstey, and----" + +"I read the reports of the trial," interrupted Lord Level. "Do not be +at the pain of going over the details again." + +"Well, the true culprit was Anstey; there's no doubt of that. But, +like most cunning rogues, he was able to escape consequences himself, +and throw them upon Tom. I am sure, Lord Level, that Tom Heriot no +more knew the bill was forged than I knew it. He knew well enough +there was something shady about it; about that and others which had +been previously in circulation, and had been met when they came to +maturity. This one bill was different. Of course there's all the +difference between shady bills of accommodation, and a bill that has a +responsible man's name to it, which he never signed himself." + +"But what on earth possessed Heriot to allow himself to be drawn into +such toils?" + +"Ah, there it is. His carelessness. He has been reprehensibly careless +all his life. And now he has paid for it. All's over." + +"He is already on his passage out in the convict ship _Vengeance_, is +he not?" said Lord Level, with suppressed rage. + +"Yes: ever since early in August," shuddered Charles. "How does +Blanche bear it?" + +"Blanche does not know it." + +"Not know it!" + +"No. As yet I have managed to keep it from her. I dread its reaching +her, and that's the truth. It is a fearful disgrace. She is fond of +him, and would feel it keenly." + +"But I cannot understand how it can have been kept from her." + +"Well, it has been. Why, she does not even know that he sold out! She +thinks he embarked with the regiment for India last May! We had been +in Paris about ten days--after our marriage, you know--when one +morning, happening to take up the _Times_, I saw in it the account of +his apprehension and first examination. They had his name in as large +as life--Thomas Heriot. 'Some gross calumny,' I thought; 'Blanche must +not hear of this:' and I gave orders for continuing our journey that +same day. However, I soon found that it was not a calumny: other +examinations took place, and he was committed for trial. I kept my +wife away from all places likely to be frequented by the English, lest +a word should be dropped to her: and as yet, as I tell you, she knows +nothing of it. She is very angry with me in her heart, I can see, for +taking her to secluded places, and for keeping her away from England +so long, but this has been my sole motive. I want the thought of it to +die out of people's minds before I bring her home." + +"She is not with you, then?" + +"She is in Germany. I had to hasten over here upon a matter of +business, and shall return for her when it is finished. I have taken +my old rooms in Holles Street for a week. You must look me up there." + +"I will," said Charles. + +Mr. Brightman came in then, and the trouble was gone over again. Lord +Level felt it keenly; there could be no doubt of that. He inquired of +the older and more experienced lawyer whether there was any chance of +bringing Anstey to a reckoning, so that he might be punished; and as +to any expense, great or small, that might be incurred in the process, +his lordship added, he would give carte blanche for that with greater +delight than he had given money for anything in his whole life. + +Charles could not help liking him. With all his pride and his imputed +faults, few people could help liking Lord Level. + +Meanwhile, as may have been gathered in the last chapter, Lord Level +was detained in England longer than he had thought for. Lady Level +grew impatient and more impatient at the delay: and then, taking the +reins into her own hands, she crossed the Channel with Mr. and Mrs. +Arnold Ravensworth. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +COMPLICATIONS. + + +Crossing by the night boat from Calais, the travellers reached Dover +at a very early hours of the morning. Lady Level, with her servants, +proceeded at once to London; but Mrs. Ravensworth, who had been +exceedingly ill on the passage, required some repose, and she and her +husband waited for a later train. + +"Make use of our house, Lady Level," said Mr. Ravensworth--speaking of +his new abode in Portland Place. "The servants are expecting me and +their mistress, and will have all things in readiness, and make you +comfortable." + +"Thank you all the same, Arnold," said Lady Level; "but I shall drive +straight to my husband's rooms in Holles Street." + +"I would not--if I were you," he dissented. "You are not expected, and +may not find anything ready in lodgings, so early in the morning. +Drive first to my house and have some breakfast. You can go on to +Holles Street afterwards." + +Sensible advice. And Lady Level took it. + +In the evening of that same day, Arnold Ravensworth and his wife +reached Portland Place from the London terminus. To Mr. Ravensworth's +surprise, who should be swinging from the door as the cab stopped but +Major Carlen in his favourite purple and scarlet cloak, his gray hair +disordered and his eyes exceeding fierce. + +"Here's a pretty kettle-of-fish!" cried he, scarcely giving Arnold +time to hand out his wife, and following him into the hall. "_You_ +have done a nice thing!" + +"What is amiss?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, as he took the Major into a +sitting-room. + +"Amiss!" returned the excited Major. "I would advise you not to fall +into Level's way just now. How the mischief came you to bring Blanche +over?" + +"We accompanied Lady Level to England at her request: I took no part +in influencing her decision. Lady Level is her own mistress." + +"Is she, though! She'll find she's not, if she begins to act in +opposition to her husband. Before she was married, she had not a wish +of her own, let alone a will--and there's where Level was caught, I +fancy," added the Major, in a parenthesis, nodding his head knowingly. +"He thought he had picked up a docile child, who would never be in his +way. What with that and her beauty--anyway, he could not think she +would be setting up a will, and an obstinate one, as she's doing now, +rely upon that." + +Major Carlen was striding from one end of the room to the other, his +cloak catching in the furniture as he swayed about. Arnold thought he +had been drinking: but he was a man who could take a great deal, and +show it very little. + +"The case is this," said he, unfastening the troublesome cloak, and +flinging it on to a chair. "Level has been in England a week or two; +amusing himself, I take it. He didn't want his wife, I suppose; well +and good: men like a little society, and as long as they keep their +wives in the dark, there's no reason why they shouldn't have it----" + +"Major Carlen!" burst forth Mr. Ravensworth. "Lord Level's wife is +your daughter. Have you forgotten it?" + +"My step-daughter. What if she is? Does that render her different from +others? Are you going to climb a pole and cry Morality? You are a +young married man, Arnold Ravensworth, and must be on your good +behaviour just now; it's etiquette." + +Mr. Ravensworth was not easily excited, but the red flush of anger +darkened his cheek. He could have thrust the old rascal from the +house. + +"Level leaves his wife in France, and tells her to remain there. +Germany? Well, say Germany, then. My lady chooses to disobey, and +comes to England, under your wing: and I wish old Harry had driven you +to any place rather than the one she was stopping at. She reaches town +to-day, and drives to Lord Level's rooms in Holles Street, whence he +had dated his letters to her--and a model of incaution he was for +doing it; why couldn't he have dated from his club? My lady finds or +hears of something there she does not like. Well, what could she +expect? They were his rooms; taken for himself, not for her; and if +she had not been a greater simpleton than ever broke loose from +keeping, she would have come away, then and there. Not she. She must +persist in putting questions as to this and that; so at last she +learned the truth, I suppose, or something near it. Then she thought +it time to leave the house and come to mine: which is what she ought +to have done at first: and there she has been waiting until now to see +me, for I have been out all day." + +"I thought your house was let?" + +"It was let for the season; the people have left it now. I came home +only yesterday from Jersey. My sister is lying ill there." + +"And may I ask, Major Carlen, how you know that Lord Level has been +'amusing himself' if you have not been here to see?" questioned Mr. +Ravensworth sarcastically. + +"How do I know it?--why, common sense tells me," stormed the Major. "I +have not heard a word about Level, except what Blanche says." + +"Is he in Holles Street?" + +"Not now. He gave up the rooms a week ago, and went down to Marshdale, +his place in Surrey. He is laid up there, having managed to jam his +knee against a gatepost; his horse swerved in going through it. A man +I met to day, a friend of Level's, told me so. To go back to Blanche. +She opened out an indignant tale to me, when I got home just now and +found her there, of what she had heard in Holles Street. 'Serve you +right, my dear,' I said to her: 'a wife has no business to be looking +at her husband through a telescope. If a man chose to fill his rooms +with wild tigers, it would not be his wife's province to complain, +provided he kept her out of reach of their claws.' 'But what am I to +do?' cried Blanche. 'You must return to France, or wherever else you +came from,' I answered. 'That I never will: I shall go down to +Marshdale, to Lord Level,' asserted Blanche, looking as I had never +seen her look before. 'You can't go there,' I said: 'you must not +attempt it.' 'I tell you, papa, I will go,' she cried, her eyes +flashing. I never knew she had so much passion in her, Ravensworth: +Level must have changed her nature. 'I will have an explanation from +Lord Level,' she continued. 'Rather than live on as I am living now, I +will demand a separation.'--Now, did you put that into her head?" +broke off the Major, looking at Mr. Ravensworth. + +"I do not think you know what you are saying, Major Carlen. Should I +be likely to advise Lady Level to separate from her husband?" + +"Someone has; such an idea would never enter Blanche's head unless put +there. 'You must lend me the means to go down,' she went on. 'I am +quite without money, through paying the bill at the hotel: Mr. +Ravensworth had partly to supply my travelling expenses.' 'Then more +fool Ravensworth for doing it,' said I; and more fool you were," +repeated the Major. + +"Anything more, Major?" + +"The idea of my lending her money to take her down to Marshdale! And +she'd be cunning to get money from me, just now, for I am out at all +pockets. The last supplies I had came from Level; I wrote to him when +he was abroad. By Jove! I would not cross him now for the universe." + +"The selfish old sinner!" thought Mr. Ravensworth--and nearly said so +aloud. + +"Let me finish; she'll be here in a minute; she said she should come +and apply to you. 'Does your husband beat you, or ill-treat you?' I +asked her. 'No,' said she, shaking her head in a proud fury; 'even I +would not submit to that. Will you lend me some money, papa?' she +asked again. 'No, I won't,' I said. 'Then I'll borrow it from Mr. +Ravensworth,' she cried, and ran upstairs to put her bonnet on. So +then I thought it was time to come too, and explain. Mind you don't +supply her with any, Ravensworth." + +"What pretext can I have for refusing?" + +"Pretext be shot!" irritably returned the Major. "Tell her you won't, +as I do. I forbid you to lend her any. There she is! What a passionate +knock! Been blundering up wrong turnings, I dare say." + +Lady Level came in, looking tired, heated, frightened. Mr. Ravensworth +took her hand. + +"You have been walking here!" he said. "It is not right that Lady +Level should be abroad in London streets at night, and alone." + +"What else am I to do without money?" she returned hysterically. + +"I sent the servants and the luggage to an hotel this morning, and +gave them the few shillings I had left." + +"Do sit down and calm yourself. All this is truly distressing." + +Calm herself! The emotion, so long pent up, broke forth into sobs. +"Yes, it is distressing. I come to England and I find no home; I am +driven about from pillar to post, insulted everywhere; I have to walk +through the streets, like any poor, helpless girl. Is it right that it +should be so?" + +"You have brought it all upon yourself, my lady," cried Major Carlen, +coming forward from a dark corner. + +She turned with a start. "So you are here, papa! Then I hope you have +entered into sufficient explanation to spare it to me." + +"I have told Ravensworth of your fine exploit, in going to Lord +Level's rooms: and he agrees with me that no one except an +inexperienced child would have done it." + +"The truth, if you please, Major Carlen," struck in Mr. Ravensworth. + +"And that what you heard or met with--though as to what it was I'm +sure I'm all in a fog about--served you right for going," continued +the unabashed Major. + +Lady Level threw back her head, the haughty crimson dyeing her cheeks. +"I went there expecting to find my husband; was that an inexperienced +or a childish action?" + +"Yes, it was," roared the Major, completely losing his temper, and +showing his fierce teeth. "When men are away from their wives, they +fall back into bachelor habits. If they please to turn their sanctums +into smoking dens, or boxing dens, or what not, are you to come +hunting them up, as I say, with a spyglass that magnifies at both +ends?" + +"Good men have no need to keep their wives away from them." + +The Major gave his nose a twist. "Good men?--bad men?--where's the +difference? The good have their wives under their thumb, and the bad +haven't, that's all." + +"For shame, papa!" + +"Tie Lord Level to your apron-string, and keep him there as long as +you can," fired the Major; "but don't ferret him up when he is out for +a holiday." + +"Did I want to ferret up Lord Level?" she retorted. "I went there +because I thought it was his temporary home and would be mine. Why did +he date his letters thence?" + +"There it all lies," cried the Major, changing his tone to one of +wrath against the peer. "Better he had dated from the top of the +Monument. It is surprising what mistakes men make sometimes. But how +was he to think you would come over against his expressed will? You +say he had bade you stop there until he could fetch you." + +Lady Level would not reply: the respect due to Major Carlen as her +step-father was not in the ascendant just then. Turning to Mr. +Ravensworth, she requested the loan of sufficient funds to take her +down to Marshdale. + +"I tell you, Blanche, you must not go there," interrupted the Major. +"Better not. Lord Level does not receive strangers at Marshdale." + +"Strangers!" emphatically repeated Lady Level. + +"Or wives either. They are the same as strangers in a case such as +this. I assure you Level told me, long before he married you, that +Marshdale was a little secluded place, no establishment kept up in it, +except an old servant or two; that he never received company down +there, and should never take you to it. Remain at the hotel with your +servants, if you will not come to my house, Blanche--there's only a +charwoman in it at present, as you know. Then write to Level and let +him know that you are there." + +"Lady Level had better stay here tonight, at all events," put in +Arnold Ravensworth. "My wife is expecting her to do so." + +"Ay," acquiesced the old Major: "and write to Marshdale tomorrow, +Blanche." + +"I go down to Marshdale tomorrow," she replied in tones of +determination. "It is too late to go tonight. The old servants that +wait upon Lord Level can wait upon me: and if there are none, I will +wait upon him myself. Go there I will, and have an understanding. And, +unless Lord Level can explain away the aspect that things have taken, +I--I--I----" + +"Of all the imbeciles that ever gave utterance to folly, you are the +worst," was the Major's complimentary retort, when she broke down. +"Madam, do you know that you are a peeress of the realm?" he added +pompously. + +"I do not forget it." + +"And you would stand in your own light! You have carriages and finery; +you are to be presented next season; you will then have a house in +town: what does the earth contain more that you _can_ want?" + +"Happiness," said Lady Level. + +"Happiness!" repeated the Major, in genuine astonishment. "A pity but +you had married a country curate and found it, then. Arnold +Ravensworth, you must not lend Lady Level the money she desires; you +shall not speed her on this insane journey." + +Mr. Ravensworth approached him, and spoke in low tones. "Do you know +of any existing reason that may render it inexpedient for her to go +there?" + +"I know nothing about it," replied the Major, too angry to lower his +voice; "absolutely nothing. The Queen and all the princesses might pay +it a visit, for aught I know of any reason to the contrary. But it is +not Lady Level's place to follow her husband about in this clandestine +manner. If he wants her there, he will send for her, once he knows +that she is in London. The place is not much more than a farm, I +believe, and used to be a hunting-box in the late Lord Level's time." + +"Papa, I hope you will forgive me for running counter to your +advice--but I shall certainly go down into Surrey tomorrow." + +"I wash my hands of it altogether," said the angry Major. + +"And you must lend me the money, Arnold." + +"I will not refuse you," was his answer: "and I cannot dictate to you; +but I think it would be better for you to remain here, and let Lord +Level know that you are coming." + +Lady Level shook her head. "Good advice, Arnold, no doubt, and I thank +you; all the same, I shall go down as I have said." + +"You will be very much to blame, sir, if you help on this mad scheme +by so much as a sixpence," spoke the Major. + +"Papa, listen to a word of common sense," she interposed. "I could go +to a dozen places tomorrow, and get any amount of money. I could go to +Lord Level's agents, and say I am Lady Level, and they would supply +me. I could go to Mr. Brightman, and he would supply me--Charles +Strange is in Paris again. I could go to other places. But I prefer to +have it from Mr. Ravensworth, and save myself trouble and annoyance. +It is not a pleasant thing for a peeress of the realm--as you just now +put it--to go about borrowing a five-pound note," she concluded with a +faint smile. + +"Very well, Blanche. If ill comes of this wild step of yours, remember +you were warned against it. I can say no more." + +Gathering up his cloak as he spoke, Major Carlen threw it over his +shoulders, and went forth, muttering, into the night. + +Mr. Ravensworth called his wife, and she took Lady Level upstairs to a +hastily-prepared chamber. Sitting down in a low chair, and throwing +off her bonnet, Lady Level, worn out with all the excitement she had +gone through, burst into a flood of hysterical tears. + +"Tell me all about it," said Mary Ravensworth soothingly, drawing the +poor wearied head to rest on her shoulder. + +"They meant to stop me from going down to my husband, and I _will_ +go," sobbed Blanche half defiantly. "If he has met with an accident, +and is ill, I ought to be there." + +"Of course you ought," said Mary warmly. "But what is all the trouble +about?--And what was it that you heard, and did not like, in Holles +Street?" + +"Oh, never mind that," said Blanche, colouring furiously. "That is +what I am going to ask my husband to explain." + +Upon Lady Level's arrival in London that morning, she sent her +servants and luggage to an hotel, and drove straight to Portland Place +herself: where Mr. and Mrs. Ravensworth's servants supplied her with +breakfast. Afterwards, she went to Holles Street, arriving there about +ten o'clock; walked into the passage, for the house door was open, was +met by a young person in green, and inquired for Lord Level. + +"Lord Level's not here now, ma'am," was the answer, as she showed +Blanche into a parlour. "He has been gone about a week." + +"Gone about a week!" repeated Blanche, completely taken back; for she +had pictured him as lying at the place disabled. + +"About that time, ma'am. He and the lady left together." + +Blanche stared, and collected her scattered senses. "What lady?" she +asked. + +The young person in green considered. "Well, ma'am, I forget the name +just now; those foreign names are hard to remember. His lordship +called her Nina. A very handsome lady, she was--Italian, I think--with +long gold earrings." + +Lady Level's heart began to beat loudly. "May I ask if you are Mrs. +Pratt?" she inquired, knowing that to be the name of the landlady. + +"Dear me, no, ma'am; Mrs. Pratt's my aunt; I'm up here on a visit to +her from the country. She is gone out to do her marketings. Lord Level +was going down to his seat in Surrey, we understood, when he left +here." + +"Was the Italian lady going with him?" + +The country girl--who was no doubt an inexperienced, simple country +maiden, or she might not have talked so freely--shook her head. "We +don't know anything about that, ma'am: she might have been. She was +related to my lord--his sister-in-law, I think he called her to Mrs. +Pratt--or some relation of that sort." + +Blanche walked to the window and stood still for a moment, looking +into the street, getting up her breath. "Did the lady stay with Lord +Level all the time he was here?" she questioned, presently. + +"Oh no, ma'am; she came only the day before he went away. Or, +stay--the day but one before, I think it was. Yes; for I know they +were out together nearly all the intervening day. Mrs. Pratt thought +at his lordship's solicitor's. It was about six o'clock in the evening +when she first arrived. My lord had spoken to Mrs. Pratt that day in +his drawing-room, saying he was expecting a relative from Italy for a +day or two, and could we let her have a bedroom, and any other +accommodation she might need; and Mrs. Pratt said she would, for we +were not full. A very nice lady she seemed to be, ma'am, and spoke +English in a very pretty manner." + +Lady Level drew in her contemptuous lips. "Did Lord Level meet with +any accident while he was here?" + +"Accident, ma'am! Not that we heard of. He was quite well when he +left." + +"Thank you," said Blanche, turning away and drawing her mantle up with +a shiver. "As Lord Level is not here, I will not intrude upon you +further." + +Wishing the young person in green good-morning, she went away to +Gloucester Place, feeling that she must scream or cry or fight the +air. Blanche knew Major Carlen was about due in London, as his house +was vacant again. Yes, the old charwoman said, the Major had got home +the previous day, but he had just gone out. Would my lady (for she +knew Blanche) like to walk in and wait until he returned? + +My lady did so, and had to wait until evening. Then she partly +explained to Major Carlen, and partly confused him; causing that +gentleman to take up all kinds of free and easy ideas, as to the +morals and manners of my Lord Level. + +On the following morning Lady Level, pursuing her own sweet will, took +train for Marshdale, leaving her servants behind her. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE HOUSE AT MARSHDALE. + + +It was a gloomy day, not far off the gloomy month of November, and it +was growing towards mid-day, when a train on a small line, branching +from the direct London line, drew up at the somewhat insignificant +station of Upper Marshdale. A young and beautiful lady, without +attendants, descended from a first-class carriage. + +"Any luggage, ma'am?" inquired a porter, stepping up to her. + +"A small black bag; nothing else." + +The bag was found in the van, and placed on the platform. A family, +who also appeared to have arrived at their destination, closed round +the van and were tumultuous over a missing trunk, and the lady drew +back and accosted a stolid-looking lad, dressed in the railway +uniform. + +"How far is it to Marshdale?" + +"Marshdale! Why, you be at Marshdale," returned the boy, in sulky +tones. + +"I mean Marshdale House." + +"Marshdale House?--That be my Lord Level's place," said the boy, still +more sulkily. "It be a matter of two mile." + +"Are there any carriages to be hired?" + +"There's one--a fly; he waits here when the train comes in." + +"Where is it to be found?" + +"It stands in the road, yonder. But if ye wants the fly, it's of no +use wanting. It have been booked by them folks squabbling over their +boxes: they writed here yesterday for it to be ready for 'em." + +The more civil porter now came up, and the lady appealed to him. He +confirmed the information that there was only this one conveyance to +be had, and the family had secured it. Perhaps, he added, the lady +might like to wait until they had done with it. + +The lady shook her head impatiently, and decided to walk. "Can you +come with me to carry my bag and to show me the way?" she asked of the +surly boy. + +The surly boy, willing or unwilling, had to acquiesce, and they set +off to walk. Upon emerging from the station, he came to a standstill. + +"Now, which way d'you mean to go?" began he, facing round upon his +companion. "There's the road way, and it's plaguy long; two mile, +good; and there's the field way, and it's a sight nearer." + +"Is it as good as the road?" + +"It's gooder--barring the bull. He runs at everybody. And he tosses +'em, if he can catch 'em." + +Not caring to encounter so objectionable an animal, the lady chose the +road; and the boy strode on before her, bag in hand. It was downhill +all the way. In due time they reached Marshdale House, which lay in a +hollow. It was a low, straggling, irregular structure, built of dark +red brick, with wings and gable ends, and must originally have looked +more like a comfortable farm-house than a nobleman's seat. But it had +been added to at various periods, without any regard to outward +appearance or internal regularity. It was exceedingly retired, and a +very large garden surrounded the house, encompassed by high walls and +dense trees. + +The walls were separated by a pair of handsome iron gates, and a small +doorway stood beside them. A short, straight avenue, overhung by +trees, led to the front entrance of the house. The surly boy, turning +himself and his bag round, pushed backwards against the small door, +sent it flying, and branched off into a side-path. + +"Is not that the front-door?" said the lady, trying to arrest him. + +"'Tain't no manner of use going to it," replied the imperturbable boy, +marching on. "The old gentleman and lady gets out o' the way, and the +maids in the kitchen be deaf, I think. Last time I came up here with a +parcel, I rung at it till I was tired, and nobody heard." + +He went up to a side-door, flung it open, and put down the bag. A +neat-looking young woman, with her sleeves turned up, came forward, +and stared in silence. + +"Is Lord Level within?" inquired the lady. + +"My lord's ill in bed," replied the servant; "he cannot be seen or +spoken to. What do you want with him, please?" + +She seemed a good-tempered, ignorant sort of girl, but nothing more. +At that moment someone called to her from an inner room, and she +turned away. + +"Are there not any upper servants in the house, do you know?" inquired +the lady of the boy. + +"I doesn't think so. There's the missis." + +A tinge came over the lady's face. "The mistress! Who is she?" + +"She's Mrs. Ed'ards. An old lady, what comes to church with buckles in +her shoes. And there's Mr.----" + +"What is it that you want here?" interrupted the servant girl, +advancing again, and addressing the visitor in a not very conciliatory +tone. + +"I am Lady Level," was the reply, in a ringing, imperious voice. "Call +someone to receive me." + +It found its way to the girl's alarm. She looked scared, doubting, and +finally turned and flew off down a long, dark passage. The boy heard +the announcement without its ruffling his equanimity in the least +degree. + +"That's all, ain't it?" asked he, giving the bag a condescending touch +with his foot. + +"How much am I to pay you?" inquired Lady Level. + +The boy paused. "You bain't obliged to pay nothing." + +"What is the charge?" repeated Lady Level. + +"The charge ain't nothing. If folks like to give anything, it's gived +as a gift." + +She smiled, and, taking out her purse, gave him half-a-crown. He +received it with remarkable satisfaction, and then, with an air of +great mystery and cunning, slipped it into his boot. + +"But, I say, don't you go and tell, over there, as you gived it me," +said he, jerking his head in the direction of the railway station. "We +are not let take nothing, and there'd be the whole lot of 'em about my +ears. You won't tell?" + +"No, I will not tell," replied Lady Level, laughing, in spite of her +cares and annoyances. And the promising young porter in embryo, giving +vent to a shrill whistle, which might have been heard at the +two-mile-off station, tore away as fast as his legs would carry him. + +The girl came back with a quaint old lady. Her hair was white, her +complexion clear and fresh, and her eyes were black and piercing as +ever they had been in her youth. She looked in doubt at the visitor, +as the servant had done. + +"I am told that someone is inquiring for my lord." + +"His wife is inquiring for him. I am Lady Level." + +Had any doubt been wavering in the old lady's mind, the tones +dispelled it. She curtseyed to the ground--the stately, upright, +old-fashioned curtsey of the days gone by. A look of distress rose to +her face. + +"Oh, my lady! That I should live to receive my lord's wife in this +unprepared, unceremonious manner! He told me you were in foreign +parts, beyond seas." + +"I returned to England yesterday, and have left my servants in town. +What is the matter with Lord Level?" + +"That your ladyship should come to such a house as this, all +unfurnished and disordered! and--I beg your pardon, my lady! I cannot +take you through these passages," she added, curtseying for Lady +Level to go out again. "Deborah, go round and open the front-door." + +Lady Level, in the midst of much lamentation, was conducted to the +front entrance, and thence ushered into a long, low, uncarpeted room +on the left of the dark hall. It was very bare of furniture, chairs +and a large table being all that it contained. "It is of no +consequence," said Lady Level; "I have come only to see Lord Level, +and may not remain above an hour or two. I cannot tell. You are Mrs. +Edwards, I think. I have heard Lord Level mention you." + +"My name is Edwards, my lady. I was housekeeper in the late lord's +time, and, when a young woman, I had the honour of nursing my lord. +Since the late lord's death, I and my brother, Jacob Drewitt, have +mostly lived here. He used to be house steward at Marshdale." + +Lady Level removed her bonnet and cloak, and threw them on the table. +She looked impatient and restless, as she listened to the account of +her husband's accident. He had received an injury to his knee, when +out riding, the day after his arrival at Marshdale; fever had set in, +deepening at times to slight delirium. + +"I should like to see him," said Lady Level. "Will you take me to his +chamber?" + +Mrs. Edwards marshalled her upstairs. Curious, in-and-out, wide and +shallow stairs they were, with long passages and short turnings +branching from them. She gently threw open the door of a large, +handsome room. On the bed lay Lord Level, his eyes closed. + +"He is dozing again, my lady," she whispered. "He is sure to fall to +sleep whenever the fever leaves him." + +"There is no fire in the room!" exclaimed Lady Level. + +"The doctor says there's not to be any, my lady. In the room opposite +to this, across the passage, you will find a good one. It is my lord's +sitting-room when he is well. And here," noiselessly opening a door +facing the foot of the bed, "is another chamber, that can be prepared +for your ladyship, if you remain." + +The housekeeper left the room as she spoke, scarcely knowing whether +she stood on her head or her heels, so completely was she confounded +by this arrival of Lady Level's--and nothing wherewith to receive her! +Mrs. Edwards had her head and hands full just then. + +As Lady Level moved forward, her dress came into contact with a light +chair, and moved it. The invalid started, and raised himself on his +elbow. + +"Why!--who--is it?" + +"It is I, Lord Level," she said, advancing to the bed. + +He looked strangely amazed and perplexed. He could not believe his own +eyes, and stared at her as though he would discover whether she was +really before him, or whether he was in a dream. + +"Don't you know me?" she asked gently. + +"Is it--Blanche?" + +"Yes." + +"But where have you come from?--what brings you here?" he slowly +ejaculated. + +"I came down by train to-day. I have come to speak to you." + +"You were in Germany. I left you in Germany!" + +"I thought I had been there long enough: too long; and I quitted it. +Archibald, I could not stay there. Had I done so, I should have been +ill as you are. I think I should have died." + +He said nothing for a few moments, and appeared to be lost in thought. +Then he drew her face down to his, and kissed it. + +"You ought not to have come over without my permission, Blanche." + +"I did not travel alone. Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth chanced to +put up at the inn on their homeward route, and I took the opportunity +to come over with them." + +The information evidently did not please Lord Level. His brow +contracted. + +"You wrote me word that you had had an accident," she continued. "How +could I be contented to remain away after that? So I came over: and I +went to your rooms in Holles Street----" + +"Why on earth did you go there?" he sharply interrupted. "When I had +left them." + +"But I did not know you had left them. How was I to know you had come +to Marshdale if you never told me so? When I found you had left Holles +Street, I went straight to Gloucester Place. Papa has just come home +from Jersey." + +"You ought to have remained in Germany until I was able to join you," +he reiterated irritably; and Blanche could not avoid seeing that he +was growing agitated and feverish. "What's to become of you? Where are +you to be?" + +"First of all, I want to have an explanation with you," said Blanche. +"I came over on purpose to have it; to tell you many things. One is, +that I will no longer submit to be treated as a child----" + +"Blanche!" he curtly interrupted. + +"Well?" + +"You are acting as a child now, and as nothing else. This nonsense +that you are talking--I am not in a condition to hear it." + +"It is not nonsense," said Blanche. + +"It is what I will not listen to. It was the height of folly to come +here. All you can do now is to go back to London by the next train." + +"Go back where?" she passionately asked. "I have no home in London." + +"I dare say Major Carlen will receive you for a week. Before that time +I hope to be well enough to come up, and prepare a home for you. Where +are Sanders and Timms?" + +"I did not bring them down with me. They are at an hotel. Why cannot I +stay here?" + +"Because I won't have it. There is nothing in the place ready for you, +or suited to you." + +"If it is suited to you, it's suited to me. I say I will not be +treated as a child any longer. I could be quite happy here. There is +nothing I should like so much as to explore this old house. I never +saw such an array of ghostly passages anywhere." + +Something in the words seemed dangerously to excite Lord Level. The +fever was visibly increasing. + +"I forbid you to explore; I forbid you to remain here!" he exclaimed +in the deepest agitation. "Do you hear me, Blanche?--you must return +by the next train." + +"I will not," she replied, quite as obstinate as he. "I will not go +hence until I have had an explanation with you. If you are too ill at +present, I will wait for it." + +He was, indeed, too ill. "Quiet, above all things," the doctor had +said when he had paid his early morning visit. But quiet Lord Level +had not had; his wife had put an end to that. His talk grew random, +his mind wandering; a paroxysm of fever ensued. In terror Lady Level +rang the bell. + +Mrs. Edwards answered it. Blanche gazed at her with astonishment, +scarcely recognising her. She had put on her gala dress of days long +gone by: a short, full, red petticoat, a chintz gown looped above it +in festoons, high-heeled shoes, buckles, snow-white stockings with +worked "clocks," a mob cap of clear lace, large gold earrings, and +black mittens. All this she had assumed out of respect to her new +lady. + +"Is he out of his mind?" gasped Lady Level, terrified at her lord's +words and his restless motions. + +"It is the fever, my lady," said Mrs. Edwards. "Dear, dear! And we +thought him so much better today!" + +Close upon that, Dr. Macferraty, the medical man, came in. He was of +square-built frame with broad shoulders, very dictatorial and +positive considering his years, which did not number more than +seven-and-twenty. + +"What mischief has been at work here?" he demanded, standing over the +bed with Mrs. Edwards. "Who has been with him?" + +She explained that Lady Level had arrived and had been talking with +his lordship. She--Mrs. Edwards--had begged her ladyship _not_ to talk +to him; but--well, the young were heedless and did not think of +consequences. + +"If she has worried him into brain-fever, she will have herself to +thank for it," harshly spoke the doctor. And Lady Level, who was in +the adjoining room, overheard the words. + +"Something has happened to agitate my patient!" exclaimed Doctor +Macferraty, when, in leaving the room, he encountered Lady Level in +the passage, and was introduced to her by Mrs. Edwards. + +"I am very sorry," she answered. "We were speaking of family affairs, +and Lord Level grew excited." + +"Then, madam," said the doctor, "do not speak of family affairs again, +whilst he is in this weak condition, or of any other affairs likely to +excite him. You must, if you please, put off all such topics until he +is better." + +"How long will that be?" asked Lady Level. + +"I cannot say; it may be a week, or it may be a month. When once these +intermittent fevers get into the system, it is difficult to shake them +off again." + +"It will not go on to--to anything worse?" questioned Lady Level +timidly, recalling what she had just overheard. + +"I hope not; but I cannot answer for it. Your ladyship must be good +enough to bear in mind that much depends upon his keeping himself +tranquil, and upon those around helping to keep him so." + +The doctor withdrew as he spoke, telling Mrs. Edwards that he would +look in again at night. Lord Level remained very excited throughout +the rest of the day; he had a bad night, the fever continuing, and was +no better in the morning. Mrs. Edwards had sat up with him. + +Lady Level then made up her mind to remain at Marshdale, consulting +neither her lord nor anyone else. As Major Carlen had remarked, +Blanche was developing a will of her own. Though, indeed, it might not +have been right to leave him in his present condition. She sent for +Sanders and Timms, the two servants who had attended her from Germany, +and for certain luggage belonging to herself. Mrs. Edwards did the +best she could with this influx of visitors to a scantily-furnished +house. Lady Level occupied the chamber that opened from her husband's; +it also opened on to the corridor. + +"Madam," said Dr. Macferraty to her, taking the bull by the horns on +one of the earliest days, "you must allow me to give you a word of +advice. Do not, just at present, enter Lord Level's chamber; wait +until he is a little stronger. He has just asked me whether you had +gone back to town, and I did not say no. It is evident that your being +here troubles him. The house, as it is at present, is not in a +condition to receive you, or he appears to think so. Therefore, so +long as he is in this precarious state, do not show yourself to him. +Let him think you have returned to London." + +"Is his mind quite right again?" + +"By no means. But he has lucid intervals. I assure your ladyship it is +of the very utmost importance that he should be kept tranquil. +Otherwise, I will not answer for the consequences." + +Lady Level took the advice in all humility. Bitterly though she was +feeling upon some scores towards her husband, she did not want him to +die; no, nor to have brain-fever. So she kept the door closed between +her room and his, and was as quiet as a mouse at all times. And the +days began to pass on. + +Blanche found them monotonous. She explored the house, but the number +of passages, short and long, their angles and their turnings, confused +her. She made the acquaintance of the steward, Mr. Drewitt, an elderly +gentleman who went about in a plum-coloured suit and a large cambric +frill to his shirt. One autumn morning when Blanche had traversed the +long corridor, beyond the rooms which she and Lord Level occupied, +she turned into another at right angles with it, and came to a door +that was partly open. Passing through it, she found herself in a +narrow passage that she had not before seen. Deborah, the good-natured +housemaid, suddenly came out of one of the rooms opening from it, +carrying a brush and dustpan. Deborah was the only servant kept in the +house, so far as Lady Level saw, apart from the cook, who was fat and +experienced. + +"What a curious old house!" exclaimed Lady Level. "Nothing but dark +passages that turn and wind about until you don't know where you are." + +"It is that, my lady," answered Deborah. "In the late lord's time the +servants took to calling it the maze, it puzzled them so. The name got +abroad, and some people call it the maze to this day." + +"I don't think I have been in this passage before. Does anyone live or +sleep here?" added Lady Level, looking at the household articles +Deborah carried. + +It was a dark, narrow passage, closed in by a door at each end. The +door at the upper end was of oak; heavy, and studded with nails. Four +rooms opened from the passage, two on each side. + +"All these rooms are occupied by the master and missis," said Deborah, +alluding to the steward and his sister. "This is Mrs. Edwards's +chamber, my lady," pointing to the one she had just quitted. "That +beyond it is Mr. Drewitt's; the opposite room is their sitting-room, +and the one beside it is not used." + +"Where does that heavy door lead to?" continued Lady Level. + +"It leads into the East Wing, my lady," replied Deborah. "I have never +entered that wing all the two years I've lived here," continued the +gossiping girl. "I am not allowed to do so. The door is kept locked; +as well as the door answering to it in the passage below." + +"Does no one ever go into it?" + +"Why, yes, my lady; Mr. Drewitt does, and spends a good part of his +time there. He has a business-room there, in which he keeps his books +and papers relating to the estate. Mrs. Edwards is in there, too, with +him most days. And my lord goes in when he is down here." + +"Then no one really inhabits that wing?" + +"Oh yes, my lady, John Snow and his wife live in it; he's the head +gardener. A many years he has been in the family; and one of the last +things the late lord did before he died was to give him that wing to +live in. An easy life Snow has of it now; working or not, just as he +pleases. When there's any unusual work to be done, our gardener on +this side is had in to help with it." + +Lady Level did not feel much interested in the wing, or in Snow the +gardener. But it happened that not half an hour after this +conversation, she chanced to see Mrs. Snow. + +Leaning, in her listlessness, out of an open window that was just +above the side entrance, to which she had been conducted by the boy on +her way from the station, she was noticing how high the wall was that +separated the garden of the house from the garden of the East Wing. +Lofty trees, closely planted, also flanked the wall, so that not the +slightest glimpse could be had on either side of the other garden. The +East Wing, with its grounds, was as completely hidden from view as +though it had no existence. While rather wondering at this--for the +East Wing was, after all, a part of the house, and not detached from +it--Lady Level saw a woman emerge from a little sheltered doorway in +the wall, lock it after her, and come up the path, key in hand. This +obscure doorway, and another at the foot of the East Wing garden +opening to the road, were apparently the only means of entrance to it. +To the latter door, always kept locked, was attached a large bell, +which awoke the surrounding echoes whenever tradespeople or other +applicants rang at it. + +"Is that you, Hannah Snow?" cried the cook, stepping forward to meet +the other as she came up the path. "And how are you to-day? Do you +want anything?" + +Catching the name, Lady Level looked out more closely. She saw a tall, +strong, respectable woman of middle age, with a smiling, happy face, +and laughing hazel eyes. She wore a neat white cap, a clean cotton +gown and gray-checked apron. + +"Yes, cook," was the answer, given in a merry voice. "I want you to +give me a handful of candied peel. I am preparing a batch of cakes for +my old man, never supposing I had not all the ingredients at hand, and +I find I have no peel. I'm sure I had some; and I tell John he must +have stolen it." + +"What a shame!" cried the cook, taking the words more literally than +they were intended. Mrs. Snow laughed. + +"Fact is, I suppose I used the last of it in the bread-and-butter +pudding I made last week," said she. + +"You are always making cakes for that man o' yours, seems to me, +Hannah," grumbled the cook. "We can smell them over here when they're +baking, and that's pretty often." + +"Seems I am: he's always asking for them," assented Hannah. "He likes +to eat one now and then between meals, you see. + +"Well, he's a rare one for his inside," retorted the cook, as she went +in for the candied peel. + +"They seem to do very much as they like here," was the only thought +that crossed Lady Level. + +On this same day Lord Level, who had grown so much better as to be out +of danger, dismissed his doctor. Presenting him with a handsome +cheque, he told him that he required no further attendance. Blanche +received the news from Mrs. Edwards. + +"But is he so well as that?" she asked, in surprise. + +"Well, my lady, he is very much better, there's no doubt of that. He +will be out of bed to-morrow or the next day, and, if he takes care, +will have no relapse," was the housekeeper's answer. "No doubt it +might be safer for the doctor to continue to come a little longer, if +it were only to enjoin strict quiet; but you see my lord does not like +him." + +"I fancied he did not." + +"He is not our own doctor, as perhaps your ladyship has heard," +pursued Mrs. Edwards. "_He_ is a Mr. Hill: a clever, pleasant man, of +a certain age, who was very intimate with the late lord. They were +close friends, I may say. When his lordship met with this accident, it +put him out uncommonly that we had to send for the young man, Dr. +Macferraty, Mr. Hill being away." + +"If Lord Level is so well as to do without a doctor, I might go into +his room. Don't you think so, Mrs. Edwards?" + +"Better not for a day or two, my lady; better not, indeed. I'm afraid +my lord will be angry at your having stayed here--there being no +fitting establishment or accommodation for your ladyship; and----" + +"That is such nonsense!" interrupted Lady Level. "With Sanders and +Timms here, I am more attended to than is really necessary. And even +if I had to put up with discomfort for a short time, I dare say I +should survive it." + +"And it might cause his lordship excitement, I was about to say," +quickly continued Mrs. Edwards. "A very little thing would bring the +fever back again." + +Blanche sighed rebelliously, but recognised the obligation to condemn +herself a little longer to this dreary existence. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE QUARREL. + + +The following day was charmingly fine: the sun brilliant, the air warm +as summer. In the afternoon Lady Level went out to take a walk. Lord +Level was not up that day, but would be, all being well, on the +morrow. It was the injury to the knee more than his general health +that was keeping him in bed now. + +Outside the gate Blanche looked about her, and decided to take the way +towards the railway station. Upper Marshdale lay close beyond it, and +she thought she would see what the little town was like. If she felt +tired after exploring it, she could engage the solitary railway fly +to bring her home again. + +She went along the deserted road, passing a peasant's cottage now and +then. Very near to the station she met the surly boy. He was coming +along with a leap and a whistle, and stopped dead at sight of Lady +Level. + +"I say," said he, in a low tone, all his glee and his impudence gone +out of him, "be you going _there_?" + +"Yes," answered Lady Level, half smiling, for the boy amused her. He +had pointed to indicate the station, but so awkwardly that she thought +he pointed to the roofs and chimneys beyond it. "Yes, I am. Why?" + +His face fell. "Not to tell of _me_?" he gasped. + +"To tell of you! What should I have to tell of you?" + +"About that there half-crown. You _give_ him to me, mind; I never +asked. You can't see the station-master if you try: he's a gone to his +tea." + +"Oh, I won't tell of that," said Lady Level. "I am going to the +village, not to the station." + +"They'd make such a row," said the boy, somewhat relieved. "The +porter'd be mad that it wasn't given to him; he might get me sent away +perhaps for't. It's such a lot, you see: a whole half-crown: when +anything is given, it's a sixpence. But 'tain't nothing that's given +mostly; _nothing_." + +The intense resentment thrown into the last word made Lady Level +laugh. + +"It's a sight o' time, weeks and weeks, since I've had anything given +me afore, barring the three penny pieces from Mr. Snow," went on the +grumbling boy. "And what's three penny pieces?" + +"Mr. Snow?" repeated Lady Level. "Who is he?" + +"He is Lord Level's head gardener, he be. He comes up here to the +station one day, not long afore you come down; and he collars the fly +for the next down-train. The next down-train comes in and brings my +lord and a lady with him. Mr. Snow, he puts the lady inside, and he +puts what luggage there were outside. 'Twasn't much, and I helps him, +and he dives into his pockets and brings out three penny pieces. And +I'll swear that for weeks afore nobody had never given me a single +farthing." + +Lady Level changed colour. "What's your name?" she suddenly asked the +boy, to cover her confusion. + +"It be Sam Doughty. That there lady----" + +"Oh, I know the lady," she carelessly interrupted, hating herself at +the same time for pursuing the subject and the questions. "A lady with +black hair and eyes, was it not, and long gold earrings?" + +"Well, it were. I noticed the earrings, d'ye see, the sun made 'em +sparkle so. Handsome earrings they was; as handsome as she were." + +"And Lord Level took her home with him in the fly, did he?" + +"That he didn't. She went along of herself, Mr. Snow a-riding on the +box. My lord walked across the fields. The station-master telled him +to mind the bull, but my lord called back that he warn't afraid." + +There was nothing more to ask; nothing more that she could ask. But +Lady Level had heard enough to disturb her equanimity, and she turned +without going on to Upper Marshdale. That the lady with the gold +earrings was either in the house, or in its East Wing, and that that +was why she was wanted out of it, seemed clearer to her than the sun +at noonday. + +That same evening, Lady Level's servants were at supper in the large +kitchen: where, as no establishment was kept up in the house, they +condescended to take their meals. Deborah was partly waiting on them, +partly gossiping, and partly dressing veal cutlets and bacon in the +Dutch oven for what she called the upstairs supper. The cook had gone +to bed early with a violent toothache. + +"You have enough there, I hope," cried Timms, as Deborah brought the +Dutch oven to the table to turn the cutlets. + +"Old Mr. Drewitt has such an appetite; leastways at his supper," +answered Deborah. + +"I wonder they don't take their meals below; it's a long way to carry +them up all them stairs," remarked Mr. Sanders, when Deborah was +placing her dish of cutlets on the tray prepared for it. + +"Oh, I don't mind it; I'm used to it now," said the good-humoured +girl, as she went off with a quick step. + +Deborah returned with a quieter step than she had departed. "They are +quarrelling like anything!" she exclaimed in a low, frightened voice. +"She's gone into my lord's room, and they are having it out over +something or other." + +Timms, who was then engaged in eating some favourite custard pudding, +looked up. "What? Who? Do you mean my lord and my lady? How do you +know, Deborah?" + +"I heard them wrangling as I went by. I have to pass their rooms, you +know, to get to Mr. Drewitt's rooms, and I heard them still louder as +I came back. They are quarrelling just like common people. Has she a +temper?" + +"No," said Timms. "He has, though; that is, he can be frightfully +passionate at times." + +"He is not thought so in this house," returned Deborah. "To hear my +master and mistress talk, my lord is just an angel upon earth." + +"Ah!" said Timms, sniffing significantly. + +Her supper ended, but not her curiosity, Timms stole a part of the way +upstairs, and listened. But she only came in for the end of the +dispute, as she related to Mr. Sanders on her return. Lady Level, +after some final speech of bitter reproach, passed into her room and +shut the door with a force that shook the walls, and probably shook +Lord Level, who relieved his wrath by a little delicate language. So +much Timms heard; but of what the quarrel had been about, she did not +gather the faintest glimmer. + +The house went to rest. Silence, probably sleep, had reigned within it +for some two hours, and the clock had struck one, when wild calls of +alarm, coupled with the ringing of his bell, issued from Lord Level's +chamber. The servants rose hastily, in terror. Those cries of fear +came not from their lord, but from Lady Level. + +Sanders, partly attired, hastened thither; Timms, in a huge shawl, +opened her door and stopped him; Deborah came flying down the long +corridor. Mrs. Edwards was already in Lord Level's chamber. Lady +Level, in a blue silk wrapping-gown, her cries of alarm over, lay +panting in a chair, extremely agitated; and Lord Level was in a +fainting-fit on his bed, with a stab in his arm, and another in his +side, from which blood was flowing. + + * * * * * + +Some hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth were at breakfast in +Portland Place, when Major Carlen entered without ceremony. His +purple-and-scarlet cloak, without which he rarely stirred out, had +come unfastened and trailed behind him; his face looked scared and +crestfallen. + +"I must see you, I must see you!" cried the Major, throwing up his +hands, as if apologizing for the intrusion. "It's on a matter of life +and death." + +"We have finished breakfast," said Mrs. Ravensworth; and she rose and +left them together. + +The Major strode up to Arnold, his teeth actually chattering. "I told +you what it would be," he muttered. "I warned you of the consequences, +if you helped Blanche to go down there. She has attempted his life." + +Mr. Ravensworth gazed at him inquiringly. + +"By George she has! They had a blowup last night, it seems, and she +has stabbed him. It can be no one else who has done it. When these +delicate girls are put up; made jealous, and that sort of thing; they +are as bad as their more furious sisters. Witness that character of +Scott's--what's her name?--Lucy, in the 'Bride of Lam----'" + +"For pity's sake, Major Carlen, what are you saying?" interrupted Mr. +Ravensworth, scarcely knowing whether the Major was mad or sane, or +had been taking dinner in place of breakfast. "Don't introduce trashy +romance into the woes of real life! Has anything happened at Lord +Level's, or has it not?" + +"He is stabbed, I tell you. One of Lord Level's servants, Sanders, +arrived before I was up, with a note from Blanche. Here, read it!" But +the Major's hand and the note shook together as he held it out. + + Do, dear papa, hasten down! A shocking event has happened to + Lord Level. He has been stabbed in bed. I am terrified out of + my senses. + + BLANCHE LEVEL. + +"Now, she has done it," whispered the Major again, his stony eyes +turned on Mr. Ravensworth in dread. "As sure as that her name's +Blanche Level, it is she who has done it!" + +"Nonsense! Impossible. Have you learnt any of the details?" + +"A few scraps. As much as the man knew. He says they were awakened by +cries in the middle of the night, and found Lord Level had been +stabbed; and her ladyship was with him, screaming, and fainting on a +chair. 'Who did it, Sanders?' said I. 'It's impossible to make out who +did it, sir,' said he; 'there was no one indoors to do it, and all the +house was in bed.' 'What do the police say?' I asked. 'The police are +not called in, sir,' returned he; 'my lord and my lady won't have it +done.' Now, Ravensworth, what can be clearer proof than that? I used +to think her mother had a tendency to insanity; I did, by Jove! she +went once or twice into such a tantrum with me. Though she had a soft, +sweet temper in general, mild as milk." + +"Well, you must go down without delay." + +The grim old fellow put up his hands, which were trembling visibly. "I +wouldn't go down if you gave me a hundred pounds a mile, poor as I +am, just now. Look what a state I'm in, as it is: I had to get Sanders +to hook my cloak for me, and he didn't half do it. I wouldn't +interfere between Blanche and Level for a gold-mine. You must go down +for me; I came to ask you to do so." + +"It is impossible for me to go down today. I wish I knew more. How did +you hear there had been any disagreement between them?" + +"Sanders let it out. He said the women-servants heard Level and his +wife hotly disputing." + +"Where is Sanders?" + +"In your hall. I brought him round with me." + +The man was called in, and was desired to repeat what he knew of the +affair. It was not much, and it has been already stated. + +"Someone must have got in, Sanders," observed Mr. Ravensworth, when he +had listened. + +"Well, sir, I don't know," was the answer. "The curious thing is that +there are no signs of it. All the doors and windows had been fastened +before we went to bed, and they had not been, so far as we can +discover, in the least disturbed." + +"Do you suspect anyone in the house?" + +"Why--no, sir; there's no one we like to suspect," returned Sanders, +coughing dubiously. + +"The servants----" + +"Oh, none of the servants would do such a thing," interrupted Sanders, +very decidedly: and Mr. Ravensworth feared they might be getting upon +dangerous ground. He caught Major Carlen's significant glance. It +said, as plainly as glance ever yet spoke, "The man suspects his +mistress." + +"Is Lord Level's bedroom isolated from the rest of the rooms?" + +"Pretty well, sir, for that. No one sleeps near him but my lady. Her +room opens from his." + +"Could he have done it himself, Sanders?" struck in Major Carlen. "He +has been light-headed from fever." + +"Just at the first moment the same question occurred to me, sir; but +we soon saw that it was not at all likely. The fever had abated, my +lord was quite collected, and the stab in the arm could not have been +done by himself." + +"Was any instrument found?" + +"Yes, sir: a clasp-knife, with a small, sharp blade. It was found on +the floor of my lady's room." + +An ominous silence ensued. + +"Are the stabs dangerous?" inquired Mr. Ravensworth. + +"It is thought they are only slight, sir. The danger will be if they +bring back the fever. His lordship will not have a doctor called +in----" + +"Not have a doctor called in!" + +"He forbids it absolutely, sir. When we reached his room, in answer to +my lady's cries, he had fainted; but he soon recovered, and hearing +Mrs. Edwards speak of the doctor, he refused to have him sent for." + +"You ought to have sent, all the same," imperiously spoke Mr. +Ravensworth. + +Sanders smiled. "Ah, sir, but my lord's will is law." + +Mr. Ravensworth turned to a side-table. He wrote a rapid word to Lady +Level, promising to be with her that evening, gave it to Sanders, and +bade him make the best of his way back to Marshdale. Certain business +of importance was detaining him in town for the day. + +"When you get down there, Ravensworth, you won't say that I wouldn't +go, you know," said the Major. "Say I couldn't." + +"What excuse can I make for you?" + +"Any excuse that comes uppermost. Say I'm in bed with gout. I have +charged Sanders to hold his tongue." + +The day had quite passed before Mr. Ravensworth was able to start on +his journey. It was dark when he reached Upper Marshdale. There he +found Sanders and the solitary fly. + +"Is Lord Level better?" was his first question. + +"A little better this evening, sir, I believe; but he has again been +off his head with fever, and Dr. Macferraty had, after all, to be +called in," replied the man. "My lady is pretty nearly beside herself +too." + +"Have the police been called in yet?" + +"No, sir; no chance of it; my lord and my lady won't have it done." + +"It appears to be an old-fashioned place, Sanders," remarked Mr. +Ravensworth, when they had reached the house. + +"It's the most awkward turn-about place inside, sir, you ever saw; +nothing but passages. But my lord never lives here; he only pays it +promiscuous visits now and then, and brings down no servants with him. +He was kept prisoner here, as may be said, through jamming his knee in +a gateway; and then my lady came down, and we are putting up with all +sorts of inconveniences." + +"Who lives here in general?" + +"Two old retainers of the Level family, sir: both of 'em sights to +look upon; she especially. She dresses up like an old picture." + +Waiting within the doorway to receive Mr. Ravensworth was Mrs. +Edwards. He could not take his eyes from her. He had never seen one +like her in real life, and Sanders's words, "dresses up like an old +picture," recurred to him. He had thought this style of dress +completely gone out of date, _except_ in pictures; and here it was +before him, worn by a living woman! She dropped him a stately curtsey, +that would have served for the prelude to a Court minuet in the palmy +days of Queen Charlotte. + +"Sir, you are the gentleman expected by my lady?" + +"Yes--Mr. Ravensworth." + +"I'll show you in myself, sir." + +Taking up a candle from a marble slab--there was no other light to be +seen--she conducted him through the passage, and, turning down another +which stood at right angles with it, halted at the door of a room. In +answer to a question from Mr. Ravensworth, she said his lordship was +much better within the last hour--quite himself again. "What would you +be pleased to take, sir?" she added. "I will order it to be brought in +to you." + +"I require nothing, thank you." + +But quite a housekeeper of the old school, and essentially hospitable, +she would not take a refusal. "I hope you will, sir: tea--or +coffee--or supper----?" + +"A little coffee, then." + +She dropped another of her ceremonious curtseys, and threw open the +door. "The gentleman you expected, my lady." + +It was another long, bare room, but not the one already mentioned. +Singularly bare and empty it looked to-night. A large fire burned in +the grate, halfway down the room, and in an easy-chair before it +reclined Lady Level--asleep. Two wax-candles stood on the high carved +mantelpiece, and the large oak table behind Lady Level was dark with +age. Everything about the room was dreary, excepting the fire, the +lights, and the sleeper. + +Should he awaken her? He looked at Blanche Level and deliberated. Her +feet rested on a footstool, and her head lay on the low back of the +chair, a cushion under it. She wore an evening dress of light silk, +trimmed with white lace. Her neck and arms, only relieved by the lace, +looked cold and bare in the dreary room, for she wore no ornaments; +nothing of gold or silver was about her--except her wedding-ring. Was +it possible that she had attempted the life of him who had put on that +ring? There was a careworn look on her face as she slept, which +lessened her beauty, and two indented lines rose in her forehead, not +usual to a girl of twenty; her mouth, slightly open, showed her teeth; +and very pretty teeth were Lady Level's. No, thought Mr. Ravensworth, +guilty of that crime she never had been! + +Should he arouse her? A coal fell on to the hearth with a rattle, and +settled the question, for Lady Level opened her eyes. A moment's +dreamy unconsciousness, and then she started up, her face flushing. + +"Oh, Arnold, I beg your pardon! I must have dropped asleep. How good +of you to come!" + +With a burst of tears she held out her hands; it seemed so glad a +relief to have a friend there. + +"Arnold, I am so miserable--so frightened! Why did not papa come down +this morning?" + +"He was----" Mr. Ravensworth searched for an excuse and did not find +one easily "Something kept him in town, and he requested me to come +down in his stead, and see if I could be of any use to you." + +"Have you heard much about it?" she asked, in a whisper. + +"Sanders told me and your father what little he knew. But it appeared +most extraordinary to both of us. Sit down, Lady Level," he continued, +drawing a chair nearer to hers. "You look ill and fatigued." + +"I am not ill; unless uncertainty and anxiety can be called illness. +Have you dined?" + +"Yes; but your housekeeper insists on hospitality, and will send me up +some coffee." + +"Did you ever see so complete a picture as she is? Just like those +engravings we admire in the old frames." + +"Will you describe to me this--the details of the business I came down +to hear?" + +"I am trying to delay it," she said, with a forced laugh--a laugh that +caused Mr. Ravensworth involuntarily to knit his brow, for it spoke of +insincerity. "I think I will not tell you anything about it until +to-morrow morning." + +"I must leave again to-night. The last up-train passes----" + +"Oh, but you will stay all night," she interrupted nervously. "I +cannot be left alone. Mrs. Edwards is preparing a room for you +somewhere." + +"Well, we will discuss that by-and-by. What is this unpleasant +business about Lord Level?" + +"I don't know what it is," she replied. "He has been attacked and +stabbed. I only know that it nearly frightened me to death." + +"By whom was it done?" + +"I don't know," she repeated. "They say the doors and windows were all +fastened, and that no one could have got in." + +Now, strange as it may appear, and firmly impressed as Mr. Ravensworth +was with the innocence of Lady Level, there was a tone in her voice, a +look in her countenance, as she spoke the last few sentences, that he +did not like. Her manner was evasive, and she did not meet his glance +openly. + +"Were you in his room when it happened?" + +"Oh dear no! Since I came down here I have occupied a room next to +his; his dressing-room, I believe, when he stays here at ordinary +times; and I was in bed and asleep at the time." + +"Asleep?" + +"Fast asleep. Until something woke me: and when I entered Lord Level's +room, I found--I found--what had happened." + +"Had it just happened?" + +"Just. I was terrified. After I had called the servants, I think I +nearly fainted. Lord Level quite fainted." + +"But did you not see anyone in the room who could have attacked him?" + +She shook her head. + +"Nor hear any noise?" + +"I--thought I heard a noise; I am positive I thought so. And I heard +Lord Level's voice." + +"That you naturally would hear. A man whose life is being attempted +would not be likely to remain silent. But you must try and give me a +better explanation than this. You say something suddenly awoke you. +What was it?" + +"I cannot tell you," repeated Lady Level. + +"Was it a noise?" + +"N--o; not exactly. I cannot say precisely what it was." + +Mr. Ravensworth deliberated before he spoke again. "My dear Lady +Level, this will not do. If these questions are painful to you, if you +prefer not to trust me, they shall cease, and I will return to town as +wise as I came, without having been able to afford you any assistance +or advice. I think you could tell me more, if you would do so." + +Lady Level burst into tears and grew agitated. A disagreeable +doubt--guilty or not guilty?--stole over Mr. Ravensworth. "Oh, heaven, +that it should be so!" he cried to himself, recalling how good and +gentle she had been through her innocent girlhood. "I came down, +hoping to be to you a true friend," he resumed in a low tone. "If you +will allow me to be so, if you will confide in me, Blanche, come what +may, I will stand by you." + +There was a long silence. Mr. Ravensworth did not choose to break it. +He had said his say, and the rest remained with Lady Level. + +"Lord Level has made me very angry indeed," she broke out, indignation +arresting her tears. "He has made me--almost--hate him." + +"But you are not telling me what occurred." + +"I have told you," she answered. "I was suddenly aroused from sleep, +and then I heard Lord Level's voice, calling 'Blanche! Blanche!' I +went into his room, ran up to him, and he put out his arms and caught +me to him. Then I saw blood upon his nightshirt, and he told me he had +been stabbed. Oh, how I shuddered! I cannot think of it now without +feeling sick and ill, without almost fainting," she added, a shiver +running through her frame. + +Mr. Ravensworth's opinion veered round again. "She do it--nonsense!" +Lady Level continued: + +"'Don't scream; don't scream, Blanche,' he said. 'I am not much hurt, +and I will take care of you,' and he held me to him as though I were +in a vice. I thought he did not want me to alarm the house." + +"Did he keep you there long?" + +"It seemed long to me: I don't suppose it was more than a couple of +minutes. His hold gradually relaxed, and then I saw that he had +fainted. Oh, the terror of that moment! all the more intense that it +had been suppressed. I feared he might bleed to death. I opened the +door, and cried and screamed, and called for the servants; I rushed +back to the room and rang the bell; and then I fell back in the +easy-chair, and could do no more." + +"Well, this is a better explanation than you gave me at first," said +Mr. Ravensworth encouragingly: and she had spoken more readily, +without appearance of disguise. "Then it was Lord Level's calling to +you that first aroused you?" + +"No; oh no; it was not that. It----" she stopped in confusion. "At +least--perhaps it was. It--I can't say." She had relapsed into +evasion again, and once more Mr. Ravensworth was plunged in doubt. He +leaned towards her. + +"I am going to ask you a question, Lady Level, and you must of course +answer it or not as you please. I can only repeat that any confidence +you repose in me shall never be betrayed. Did Lord Level inflict this +injury on himself?" + +"No, that was impossible," she freely answered; "it must have been +done to him." + +"The weapon, I hear, was found in your room." + +"Yes." + +"But how could it have come there?" + +"As if I knew!" + +"Why do you object to the police being called in?" + +"It was Lord Level who objected. When he recovered from his faintness, +and heard them speaking of the police, he called Mr. Drewitt to +him--who is master of the house under Lord Level--and charged him +that nothing of the kind should be done. I would rather they were +here," she added after a pause. "I should feel safer. This morning I +went to my husband and told him if he would not have in the police, +the house searched, and the facts investigated, I should die with +terror. He replied, jestingly, then if I chose to be so foolish, I +must die: the hurt was his, not mine, and if he saw no occasion for +having in the police, and did not choose to have them in, surely I +need not want them. I was perfectly safe, and so was he, he continued, +and he would see that I was kept so. He would not even have the doctor +called in at first; but towards midday, when the fever returned and he +became delirious, Mr. Drewitt sent for him." + +"That seems more strange than all--refusing to have a doctor. He----" + +The arrival of coffee interrupted them. Sanders brought it in in a +silver coffeepot on a silver tray, with biscuits and other light +refreshments; and Mrs. Edwards attended to pour it out. Mr. +Ravensworth repeated to her what he had just said about the doctor. + +"The fact is, sir, my lord does not like Dr. Macferraty," she +rejoined. "None of us in this house do like him; we cannot endure him. +He has not long been in practice, and we look upon him as an upstart. +It is a great misfortune that Mr. Hill is away just now." + +"The usual attendant, I presume, Mrs. Edwards?" + +"Yes, sir; and a friend besides. He and the late lord seemed almost +like brothers, so intimate were they. Mr. Hill's mother is going on +for ninety; she is beginning to break, and he has gone over to see +her. She lives in the Isle of Man. It is almost a month since he went +away." + +"The late lord? Let me see. He was the present lord's uncle, was he +not?" + +"Why, no, sir; he was his father," returned Mrs. Edwards, surprised at +the mistake. "The late peer, Archibald Lord Level, had two sons, Mr. +Francis the heir, and Mr. Archibald. Mr. Francis died of consumption, +and lies buried in the family vault in Marshdale Church; and Mr. +Archibald, the only son left, succeeded to his father." + +"Yes, yes, I had forgotten," said Mr. Ravensworth. "An idea was +floating in my mind that the present peer had not been always the +heir-apparent." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MYSTERY. + + +Silence had fallen upon the room. Coffee had been taken, and the tray +carried away by Mrs. Edwards. It was yet only eight o'clock. Mr. +Ravensworth sat in mental perplexity, believing he had not come to the +bottom of this dreadful affair; no, nor half-way to it. + +But Lady Level was in still greater perplexity, her mind buried in +miserable reverie. A conviction that she was being frightfully wronged +in some way, and that she would not bear it, lay uppermost with her. +Since meeting with the railway boy, Sam Doughty, the previous +afternoon, and hearing the curious information he had disclosed, her +temper had been gradually rising. It was temper that had caused her to +declare herself to Lord Level while the servants (as related in a +former chapter) were at supper in the kitchen, and Mrs. Edwards and +the old steward were shut up in their sitting-room, waiting for their +own supper to be served. The coast thus clear, in went Blanche to her +lord's chamber. Not to open out the budget of her wrongs--he might not +be sufficiently well for that--but to announce herself. To let him see +that she was still in the house, that she had disregarded his +injunction to quit it; and to assure him, in her rebellious spirit, +that she meant to remain in it as long as she pleased. Not a word of +suspected and unorthodox matters did Lady Level breathe, and the +quarrel that arose between them was wholly on the score of her +disobedience. Lord Level was passionately angry, thus to have been set +at naught. He told her that as his wife she owed him obedience, and +must give it to him. She retorted that she would not do so. The +dispute went no further than that; but loud and angry words passed on +both sides. And the next episode in the drama, some three or four +hours later, was the mysterious attack upon Lord Level. + +"Arnold," suddenly spoke her ladyship, looking up from her chair, "I +mean to take a very decisive step." + +"In what way?" he quietly asked, from his seat on the other side of +the fireplace. "To send for the police?" + +"No, no, no; not that. I shall separate from Lord Level." + +"Oh," said Mr. Ravensworth, taken by surprise, and thinking she was +jesting. + +"As soon as he is well again, and able to discuss matters, I shall +demand a separation. I shall _insist_ upon it. If he will not accord +it to me privately, I shall apply for it publicly." + +"Blanche, you will do no such thing!" he exclaimed, rising in +excitement. "You do not know what you are saying." + +"And you do not know how much cause I have for saying it," she +answered. "Lord Level has--has--insulted me." + +"Hush," said Mr. Ravensworth. "I don't quite know what you mean by +insult----" + +"And I cannot tell you," she interrupted, her pretty black satin +slipper beating its indignation on the hearthrug, her cheeks wearing a +delicate rose-flush. "It is a thing I can speak of only to himself." + +"But--I was going to say--Lord Level does not, I feel sure, intrude +personal insult upon you. Anything that may take place outside your +knowledge you had better neither notice nor inquire into." + +Lady Level shook her head defiantly. "I mean to do it." + +"I will not hear another word upon this point," said Mr. Ravensworth +sternly. "You are as yet not much more than a child, young lady; when +you are a little older and wiser, you will see how foolish such ideas +are. For your own sake, Blanche, put them away from you." + +"I wish my dear brother Tom were here!" she petulantly returned. "It +was a shame his regiment should be sent out to India!" + +Mr. Ravensworth drew in his stern lips. He had suspected that of the +dreadful fate of Tom Heriot she must still be ignorant. The suspicion +was now confirmed. + +At that moment the steward, Mr. Drewitt, appeared; and Lady Level +introduced him by name. Mr. Ravensworth saw a pale, venerable man of +sixty years, still strong and upright, looking like a gentleman of the +old, old school, in his plum-coloured suit and white silk stockings, +his silver knee-buckles, his low shoes, and his voluminous cambric +shirt-frill. He brought a message from his lord, who wished to see Mr. +Ravensworth. + +"Who told his lordship that Mr. Ravensworth was here?" exclaimed Lady +Level quickly. + +"Madam, it was I. My lord heard someone being shown in to your +ladyship, and inquired who had come. I am sorry he has asked for you, +sir," candidly added the steward, as they left the room together. +"The fever has abated, but the least excitement will bring it on +again." + +Lady Level was sorry also. She did not care that Mr. Ravensworth's +presence in the house should be known upstairs. The fact was that one +day when she and her husband were on their homeward journey from +Savoy, and Blanche was indulging in odds and ends of grievances +against her lord, as in her ill-feeling towards him she was then +taking to do, she had spoken a few words in sheer perverseness of +spirit to make him jealous of Arnold Ravensworth. Lord Level said +nothing, but he took the words to heart. He had not liked that +gentleman before; he hated him now. Blanche blushed for herself as she +recalled it. + +Of course, it was not the visitor likely to give most pleasure to Lord +Level. As the steward introduced Mr. Ravensworth and left them +together, Lord Level regarded him with a cold, stern glance. + +"So it is you!" he exclaimed. "May I ask what brings you down here? +Did my lady send for you?" + +"No," answered Mr. Ravensworth, advancing towards the bed. "Major +Carlen called at my house this morning and requested me to come down. +I could not reach Marshdale before to-night." + +"Major Carlen? Oh! very good. Major Carlen dare not interfere between +me and my wife; and he knows that." + +"So far as I believe, Major Carlen has no intention or wish to +interfere. Lady Level sent to him in her alarm, and he requested me to +come down in his place." + +"If Major Carlen has entered into an arrangement with you to come to +my house and pry into matters that concern myself alone----" + +"I beg your lordship's pardon," was the curt interruption. "I do not +like or respect Major Carlen sufficiently well to enter into any +'arrangement' with him. I came down here, certainly in compliance with +his desire, but in a spirit of kindness towards Lady Level, and to be +of assistance to yourself if it were possible." + +"How came you to bring Lady Level over from Germany?" + +"She wished to come over." + +"And I wished and desired her to stay there until I could join her. Do +you call _that_ interference?" + +"It was nothing of the kind. On the morning of our departure from the +inn, Lady Level told my wife and myself that she should take the +opportunity to travel with us. She and her servants were even then +dressed for the journey, and her travelling-carriage stood ready +packed in the yard. If she did this against your wish, I am in no way +responsible for it. It was not my place to dictate to her; to say she +should go, or should remain. Be assured, my lord, I am the last man in +the world unduly to interfere with other people; and my coming down +now was entirely brought about by Major Carlen." + +Lord Level was not insensible to reason. He remained silent for a +time, the angry expression gradually leaving his face. Mr. Ravensworth +spoke: + +"I hope this injury to your lordship will not prove a grave one." + +"It is a trifle," was the answer; "nothing but a trifle. It is my knee +that keeps me prostrate here more than anything else; and I have +intermittent fever with it." + +"Can I be of service to you? If so, command me." + +"Much obliged. No, I do not want anyone to be of service to me, if you +allude to this stabbing business. Some drunken fellow got in, and----" + +"The servants say the doors were all left fastened, and were so +found." + +"The servants say so to conceal their carelessness," cried Lord Level, +as a contortion of pain crossed his face. "This knee gives me twinges +at times like a red-hot iron." + +"If anyone had broken in, especially any----" + +"Mr. Ravensworth," imperatively interrupted Lord Level, "it is my +pleasure that this affair should not be investigated. I say that some +man got in--a poacher, probably, who must have been the worse for +drink--and he attacked me, not knowing what he was doing. To have a +commotion made over it would only excite me in my present feverish +condition. Therefore I shall put up with the injury, and shall be well +all the sooner for doing so. You will be so obliging," he added, some +sarcasm in his tone, "as to do the same." + +But now, Mr. Ravensworth did not show himself wise in that moment. He +urged, in all good faith, a different course upon his lordship. The +presumption angered and excited Lord Level. In no time, as it seemed, +and without sufficient cause, the fever returned and mounted to the +brain. His face grew crimson, his eye wild; his voice rose almost to a +scream, and he flung his uninjured arm about the bed. Mr. Ravensworth, +in self-reproach for what he had done, looked for the bell and rang +it. + +"Drewitt, are the doors fastened?" raved his lordship in delirium, as +the steward hastened in. "Do you hear me, Drewitt? Have you looked to +the doors? You must have left one of them open! Where are the keys? +The keys, I say, Drewitt!--What brings that man here?" + +"You had better go down, sir, out of his sight," whispered the +steward, for it was at Mr. Ravensworth the invalid was excitedly +pointing. "I knew what it would be if he began talking. And he was so +much better!" + +"His lordship excites himself for nothing," was the deprecating +answer. + +"Why, of course," said Mr. Drewitt. "It is the nature of +fever-patients to do so." + +Mrs. Edwards came in with appliances to cool the heated head, and Mr. +Ravensworth returned to the sitting-room below. Blanche was not there. +Close upon that, Dr. Macferraty called. After he had been with his +patient and dressed the wounds, he came bustling into the +sitting-room. This loud young man had a nose that turned straight up, +giving an impudent look to the face, and wide-open, round green eyes. +But no doubt he had his good points, and was a skilful surgeon. + +"You are a friend of the family, I hear, sir," he began. "I hope you +intend to order an investigation into this extraordinary affair?" + +"I have no authority for doing so. And Lord Level does not wish it +done." + +"A fig for Lord Level! He does not know what he's saying," cried Dr. +Macferraty. "There never was so monstrous a thing heard of as that a +nobleman should be stabbed in his own bed and the assassin be let off +scot-free! We need not look far for the culprit!" + +The last words, significantly spoken, jarred on Mr. Ravensworth's +ears. "Have you a suspicion?" he asked. + +"I can put two and two together, sir, and find they make four. The +windows were fast; the doors were fast; there was no noise, no +disturbance, no robbery: well, then, what deduction have we to fall +back upon but that the villain, he or she, is an inmate of the house?" + +Mr. Ravensworth's pulses beat a shade more quickly. "Do you suspect +one of the servants?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"But the servants are faithful and respectable. They are not suspected +indoors, I assure you." + +"Perhaps not; they are out-of-doors, though. The whole neighbourhood +is in commotion over it; and how Drewitt and the old lady can let +these two London servants be at large is the talk of the place." + +"Oh, it is the London servants you suspect, then, or one of them?" + +"Look here," said Dr. Macferraty, dropping his voice and bending +forward in his chair till his face almost touched Mr. Ravensworth's: +"that the deed was done by an inmate of the house is _certain_. No one +got in, or could have got in; it is nonsense to suggest it. The +inmates consist of Lady Level and the servants only. If you take it +from the servants, you must lay it upon her." + +No answer. + +"Well," went on the doctor, "it is impossible to suspect _her_. A +delicate, refined girl, as she is, could not do so evil a thing. So we +must needs look to the servants. Deborah would not do it; the stout +old cook could not. She was in bed ill, besides, and slept through all +the noise and confusion. The two other servants, Sanders and Timms, +are strangers." + +"I feel sure they no more did it than I," impulsively spoke Mr. +Ravensworth. + +"Then you would fall back upon Lady Level?" + +"No. No," flashed Mr. Ravensworth. "The bare suggestion of the idea is +an insult to her." + +Dr. Macferraty drew himself back in his chair. "There's a mystery in +the affair, look at it which way you will, sir," he cried raspingly. +"My lord says he did not recognise the assassin; but, if he did not, +why should he forbid investigation? Put it as you do, that the two +servants are innocent--why, then, I fairly own I am puzzled. Another +thing puzzles me: the knife was found in Lady Level's chamber, yet she +protests that she slept through it all--was only awakened by his +lordship calling to her when it was over." + +"It may have been flung in." + +"No; it was carried in; for blood had dripped from it all along the +floor." + +"Has the weapon been recognised?" + +"Not that I am aware of. No one owns to knowing it. Anyway, it is an +affair that ought to be, and that must be, inquired into officially," +concluded the doctor from the corridor, as he said good-night and went +bustling out. + +Mr. Ravensworth, standing at the sitting-room door, saw him meet the +steward, who must have overheard the words, and now advanced with +cautious steps. Touching Mr. Ravensworth's arm, he drew him within the +shadow cast by a remote corner. + +"Sir," he whispered, "my lady told Mrs. Edwards that you were a firm +friend of hers; a sure friend?" + +"I trust I am, Mr. Drewitt." + +"Then let it drop, sir; it is no common robber who has done this. Let +it drop, for her sake and my lord's." + +Mr. Ravensworth felt painfully perplexed. Those few words, spoken by +the faithful old steward, were more fraught with suspicion against +Lady Level than anything he had yet heard. + +Returning to the sitting-room, pacing it to and fro in his perplexity +for he knew not how long, he was looking at his watch to ascertain the +time, when Lady Level came in. She had been in Lord Level's +sitting-room upstairs, she said, the one opposite his bed-chamber. He +was somewhat calmer now. Mr. Ravensworth thought that he must now be +going. + +"I have been of no assistance to you, Lady Level; I do not see that I +can be of any," he observed. "But should anything arise in which you +think I can help you, send for me." + +"What do you expect to arise?" she hastily inquired. + +"Nay, I expect nothing." + +"Did Lord----" Lady Level suddenly stopped and turned her head. Just +within the room stood two policemen. She rose with a startled +movement, and shrank close to Mr. Ravensworth, crying out, as for +protection. "Arnold! Arnold!" + +"Do not agitate yourself," he whispered. "What is it that you want?" +he demanded, moving towards the men. + +"We have come about this attack on Lord Level, sir," replied one of +them. + +"Who sent for you?" + +"Don't know anything about that, sir. Our superior ordered us here, +and is coming on himself. We must examine the fastenings of this +window, sir, by the lady's leave." + +They passed up the room, and Lady Level left it, followed by Mr. +Ravensworth. Outside stood Deborah, aghast. + +"They have been in the kitchen this ten minutes, my lady," she +whispered, "asking questions of us all--Mr. Sanders and Mrs. Timms and +me and cook, all separate. And now they are going round the house to +search it, and see to the fastenings." + +The men came out again and moved away, Deborah following slowly in +their wake: she appeared to regard them with somewhat of the curiosity +we give to a wild animal: but Mr. Ravensworth recalled her. Lady Level +entered the room again and sat down by the fire. Mr. Ravensworth again +observed that he must be going: he had barely time to walk to the +station and catch the train. + +"Arnold, if you go, and leave me with these men in the house, I will +never forgive it!" she passionately uttered. + +He looked at her in surprise. "I thought you wished for the presence +of the police. You said you should regard them as a protection." + +"Did _you_ send for them?" she breathlessly exclaimed. + +"Certainly not." + +She sank into a reverie--a deep, unpleasant reverie that compressed +her lips and contracted her brow. Suddenly she lifted her head. + +"He is my husband, after all, Arnold." + +"To be sure he is." + +"And therefore--and therefore--there had better be no investigation." + +"Why?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, scarcely above his breath. + +"Because he does not wish it," she answered, bending her face +downwards. "He forbade me to call in aid, or to suffer it to be called +in; and, as I say, he is my husband. Will you stop those men in their +search? will you send them away?" + +"I do not think I have power to do so." + +"You can forbid them in Lord Level's name. I give you full authority: +as he would do, were he capable of acting. Arnold, I _will_ have them +out of the house. I _will_." + +"What is it that you fear from them?" + +"I fear--I cannot tell you what I fear. They might question me." + +"And if they did?--you can only repeat to them what you told me." + +"No, it must not be," she shivered. "I--I--dare not let it be." + +Mr. Ravensworth paused. "Blanche," he said, in low tones, "have you +told me all?" + +"Perhaps not," she slowly answered. + +"'Perhaps!'" + +"There!" she exclaimed, springing up in wild excitement. "I hear those +men upstairs, and you stand here idly talking! Order them away in Lord +Level's name." + +Desperately perplexed, Mr. Ravensworth flew to the stairs. The +steward, pale and agitated, met him half-way up. "It must not be +looked into by the police," he whispered. "Sir, it must not. Will you +speak to them? you may have more weight with them than I. Say you are +a friend of my lord's. I strongly suspect this is the work of that +meddling Macferraty." + +Arnold Ravensworth moved forward as one in a dream, an under-current +of thought asking what all this mystery meant. The steward followed. +They found the men in one of the first rooms: not engaged in the +examination of its fastenings or its closets (and the whole house +abounded in closets and cupboards), but with their heads together, +talking in whispers. + +In answer to Mr. Ravensworth's peremptory demand, made in Lord Level's +name, that the search should cease and the house be freed of their +presence, they civilly replied that they must not leave, but would +willingly retire to the kitchen and there await their superior +officer, who was on his road to the house: and they went down +accordingly. Mr. Ravensworth returned to the sitting-room to acquaint +Lady Level with the fact, but found she had disappeared. In a moment +she came in, scared, her hands lifted in dismay, her breath coming in +gasps. + +"Give me air!" she cried, rushing to the window and motioning to have +it opened. "I shall faint; I shall die." + +"What ever is the matter?" questioned Mr. Ravensworth, as he succeeded +in undoing the bolt of the window, and throwing up its middle +compartment. At that moment a loud ring came to the outer gate. It +increased her terror, and she broke into a flood of tears. + +"My dear young lady, let me be your friend," he said in his grave +concern. "Tell me the whole truth. I know you have not done so yet. +Let it be what it will, I promise to--if possible--shield you from +harm." + +"Those men are saying in the kitchen that it was I who attacked Lord +Level; I overheard them," she shuddered, the words coming from her +brokenly in her agitation. + +"Make a friend of me; you shall never have a truer," he continued, for +really he knew not what else to urge, and he could not work in the +dark. "Tell me all from beginning to end." + +But she only shivered in silence. + +"Blanche!--did--you--do--it?" + +"No," she answered, with a low burst of heartrending sobs. "_But I saw +it done._" + + END OF VOL. I. + + + BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD. + + _S. & H._ + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + + +Inconsistent and archaic spelling retained. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Charles Strange Vol. 1 +(of 3), by Mrs. Henry Wood + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF CHARLES STRANGE *** + +***** This file should be named 38623.txt or 38623.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/6/2/38623/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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