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diff --git a/39705.txt b/39705.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..14ccd2e --- /dev/null +++ b/39705.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7885 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lady of the Forest, by L. T. Meade + +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/license + + +Title: The Lady of the Forest + A Story for Girls + +Author: L. T. Meade + +Release Date: May 15, 2012 [EBook #39705] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADY OF THE FOREST *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +THE LADY OF THE FOREST. + +A STORY FOR GIRLS. + +By L. T. MEADE + + Author of "The Little Princess of Tower Hill," + "A Sweet Girl Graduate," "The Palace Beautiful," + "Polly," "A World of Girls," etc., etc. + + "Tyde what may betyde, + Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde." + +ILLUSTRATED EDITION. + +A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I.--FAIR LITTLE MAIDS. + CHAPTER II.--MAKING TERMS. + CHAPTER III.--PREPARING FOR THE HEIR + CHAPTER IV.--A SPARTAN BOY. + CHAPTER V.--IN THE FOREST. + CHAPTER VI.--THE TOWER BEDROOM. + CHAPTER VII.--"BETYDE WHAT MAY." + CHAPTER VIII.--THE SACRED CUPBOARD. + CHAPTER IX.--A TRYSTING-PLACE. + CHAPTER X.--PROOFS. + CHAPTER XI.--THE LADY WHO CAME WITH A GIFT. + CHAPTER XII.--LOST IN THE NEW FOREST. + CHAPTER XIII.--ONE MORE SECRET. + CHAPTER XIV.--THE AUSTRALIANS. + CHAPTER XV.--WAS HE ACTING? + CHAPTER XVI.--LOST. + CHAPTER XVII.--LOOKING FOR THE TANKARD. + CHAPTER XVIII.--THE MARMADUKES. + CHAPTER XIX.--A TENDER HEART. + CHAPTER XX.--PUNISHED. + CHAPTER XXI.--WHAT THE HEIR OUGHT TO BE. + CHAPTER XXII.--RIGHT IS RIGHT. + CHAPTER XXIII.--FOREST LIFE. + CHAPTER XXIV.--A GREAT ALARM. + CHAPTER XXV.--A DREAM WITH A MEANING. + CHAPTER XXVI.--LOVE VERSUS GOLD. + CHAPTER XXVII.--TWO MOTHERS. + CHAPTER XXVIII.--THE LADY WHO CAME WITH A GIFT. + + + + +THE LADY OF THE FOREST. + + "Tyde what may betyde + Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde." + + + + +CHAPTER I.--FAIR LITTLE MAIDS. + + +"And then," said Rachel, throwing up her hands and raising her +eyebrows--"and then, when they got into the heart of the forest itself, +just where the shade was greenest and the trees thickest, they saw the +lady coming to meet them. She, too, was all in green, and she came on +and on, and----" + +"Hush, Rachel!" exclaimed Kitty; "here comes Aunt Grizel." + +The girls, aged respectively twelve and nine, were seated, one on a +rustic stile, the other on the grass at her feet; a background of +splendid forest trees threw their slight and childish figures into +strong relief. Rachel's hat was tossed on the ground and Kitty's parasol +lay unopened by her side. The sun was sending slanting rays through the +trees, and some of these rays fell on Kitty's bright hair and lit up +Rachel's dark little gypsy face. + +"Aunt Grizel is coming," said Kitty, and immediately she put on a proper +and demure expression. Rachel, drawn up short in the midst of a very +exciting narrative, looked slightly defiant and began to whistle in a +boyish manner. + +Aunt Griselda was seen approaching down a long straight avenue +overshadowed by forest trees of beech and oak; she held her parasol well +up, and her face was further protected from any passing gleams of +sunlight by a large poke-bonnet. She was a slender old lady, with a +graceful and dignified appearance. Aunt Griselda would have compelled +respect from any one, and as she approached the two girls they both +started to their feet and ran to meet her. + +"Your music-master has been waiting for you for half an hour, Rachel. +Kitty, I am going into the forest; you can come with me if you choose." + +Rachel did not attempt to offer any excuse for being late; with an +expressive glance at Kitty she walked off soberly to the house, and the +younger girl, picking up her hat, followed Aunt Griselda, sighing +slightly as she did so. + +Kitty was an affectionate child, the kind of child who likes everybody, +and she would have tolerated Aunt Griselda--who was not particularly +affectionate nor particularly sympathetic--if she had not disturbed her +just at the moment when she was listening with breathless interest to a +wonderful romance. + +Kitty adored fairy tales, and Rachel had a great gift in that direction. +She was very fond of prefacing her stories with some such words as the +following: + +"Understand now, Kitty, that this fairy story is absolutely true; the +fairy was seen by our great-great-grandmother;" or "Our great-uncle +Jonas declares that he saw that brownie himself as he was going through +the forest in the dusk;" then Kitty's pretty blue eyes would open wide +and she would lose herself in an enchanted world. It was very trying to +be brought back to the ordinary everyday earth by Aunt Griselda, and on +the present occasion the little girl felt unusually annoyed. + +Miss Griselda Lovel, or "Aunt Grizel" as her nieces called her, was a +taciturn old lady, and by no means remarked Kitty's silence. There were +many little paths through the forest, and the two soon found themselves +in comparative night. Miss Lovel walked quickly, and Kitty almost panted +as she kept up with her. Her head was so full of Rachel's fairy tale +that at last some unexpected words burst from her lips. They were +passing under a splendid forest tree, when Kitty suddenly clutched Aunt +Grizel's thin hand. + +"Aunt Grizel--is it--is it about here that the lady lives?" + +"What lady, child?" asked Miss Lovel. + +"Oh, you know--the lady of the forest." + +Aunt Grizel dropped Kitty's hand and laughed. + +"What a foolish little girl you are, Kitty! Who has been putting such +nonsense into your head? See, my dear, I will wait for you here; run +down this straight path to the Eyres' cottage, and bring Mrs. Eyre back +with you--I want to speak to her. I have had a letter, my dear, and your +little cousin Philip Lovel is coming to Avonsyde to-morrow." + + * * * * * + +Avonsyde was one of the oldest places in the country; it was not +particularly large, nor were its owners remarkable for wealth, or +prowess, or deeds of daring, neither were the men of the house specially +clever. It was indeed darkly hinted at that the largest portion of +brains was as a rule bestowed upon the female side of the house. But on +the score of antiquity no country seat could at all approach Avonsyde. +It was a delightful old place, homelike and bright; there were one or +two acres of flower-garden not too tidily kept, and abounding in all +kinds of old-fashioned and sweet-smelling flowers; the house had a broad +frontage, its windows were small, and it possessed all the charming +irregularities of a family dwelling-place which has been added to piece +by piece. At one end was a tower, gray and hoary with the weight of +centuries; at the further end were modern wings with large +reception-rooms, and even some attempts at modern luxury and modern +ornamentation. There were two avenues to the place: one the celebrated +straight avenue, which must have been cut at some long-ago period +directly out of the neighboring forest, for the trees which arched it +over were giant forest oaks and beeches. This avenue was the pride of +the place, and shown as a matter of course to all visitors. The other +avenue, and the one most in use, was winding and straggling; it led +straight up to the old-fashioned stone porch which guarded the entrance, +and enshrined in the most protective and cozy manner the principal doors +to the house. + +Avonsyde had belonged to the Lovels for eight hundred years. They were +not a rich family and they had undergone many misfortunes; the property +now belonged to the younger branch; for a couple of hundred years ago a +very irate and fiery Squire Lovel had disinherited his eldest son and +had bestowed all his fair lands and the old place upon a younger son. +From that moment matters had not gone well with the family; the younger +son who inherited the property which should have been his brother's made +an unfortunate marriage, had sickly children, many of whom died, and not +being himself either too strong-minded or in any sense overwise, had +sustained severe money losses, and for the first time within the memory +of man some of the Avonsyde lands had to be sold. + +From the date of the disinheritance of the elder branch the family never +regained either their wealth or prestige; generation after generation +the Lovels dwindled in strength and became less and less able to cope +with their sturdier neighbors. The last squire of Avonsyde had one +sickly son and two daughters; the son married, but died before his +father, leaving no son to inherit the old place. This son had also, in +the family's estimation, married beneath him, and during the squire's +lifetime his daughters were afraid even to mention the names of two +bonny little lasses who were pining away their babyhood and early youth +in poky London lodgings, and who would have been all the better for the +fresh breezes which blew so genially round Avonsyde. After the death of +his son Squire Lovel became very morose and disagreeable. He pretended +not to grieve for his son, but he also lost all interest in life. One by +one the old pleasures in which he used to delight were given up, his +health gave way rapidly, and at last the end drew near. + +There came a day when Squire Lovel felt so ill that he sent first of all +for the family doctor and then for the family solicitor. He occupied the +doctor's attention for about ten minutes, but he was closeted with the +lawyer for two or three hours. At the end of that time he sent for his +daughters and made some strong statements to them. + +"Grizel," he said, addressing the elder Miss Lovel, "Dr. Maddon has just +informed me that I am not long for this world." + +"Dr. Maddon is fond of exaggerating matters," said Miss Grizel in a +voice which she meant to be soothing; "neither Katharine nor I think you +very ill, father, and--and----" + +The squire raised his eyebrows impatiently. + +"We won't discuss the question of whether Maddon is a wise man or a +silly one, Griselda," he said. "I know myself that I am ill. I am not +only ill, I am weak, and arguing with regard to a foregone conclusion is +wearisome. I have much to talk to you and Katharine about, so will you +sit down quietly and listen to me?" + +Miss Griselda was a cold-mannered and perhaps cold-natured woman. Miss +Katharine, on the contrary, was extremely tender-hearted; she looked +appealingly at her old father's withered face; but she had always been +submissive, and she now followed her elder sister's lead and sat down +quietly on the nearest chair. + +"We will certainly not worry you with needless words, father," said Miss +Griselda gently. "You have doubtless many directions to give us about +the property; your instructions shall of course be carried out to the +best of my ability. Katharine, too, although she is not the +strongest-minded of mortals, will no doubt, from a sense of filial +affection, also respect your wishes." + +"I am glad the new poultry-yard is complete," here half-sobbed Miss +Katharine, "and that valuable new breed of birds arrived yesterday; and +I--I----" + +"Try to stop talking, both of you," suddenly exclaimed the squire. "I am +dying, and Avonsyde is without an heir. Griselda, will you oblige me by +going down to the library and bringing up out of the book-case marked D +that old diary of my great-grandfather's, in which are entered the +particulars of the quarrel?" + +Miss Katharine looked in an awe-struck and startled way at her sister. +Miss Griselda rose at once and, with a bunch of keys in her hand, went +downstairs. + +The moment she had left the room Miss Katharine got up timidly and, with +a certain pathos, stooped down and kissed the old man's swollen hand. + +The little action was done so simply and naturally that the fierce old +face relaxed, and for an instant the wrinkled hand touched Miss +Katharine's gray head. + +"Yes, Kitty, I know you love me; but I hate the feminine weakness of +tears. Ah, Kitty, you were a fair enough looking maid once, but time has +faded and changed you; you are younger than Grizel, but you have worn +far worse." + +Miss Katharine did not say a word, but hastily resumed her seat; and +when Miss Lovel returned with the vellum-bound diary, she had not an +idea that her younger sister had ever moved. + +Sitting down by her father, she opened the musty old volume and read +aloud certain passages which, written in fierce heat at the time, +disclosed a painful family scene. Angry words, bitter recriminations, +the sense of injustice on one side, the thirst for revenge on the other, +were faithfully portrayed by the dead-and-gone chronicler. + +The squire's lips moved in unspoken accompaniment to the words which his +daughter read aloud, and Miss Katharine bent eagerly forward in order +not to lose a syllable. + +"I am dying, and there is no male heir to Avonsyde," said the squire at +last. "Griselda and Katharine, I wish to state here distinctly that my +great-great-grandfather made a mistake when he turned the boy Rupert +from the old place. Valentine should have refused to inherit; it is +doubtless because of Valentine's weakness and his father's spirit of +revenge that I die to-day without male issue to inherit Avonsyde." + +"Heaping recriminations on the dead won't help matters now," said Miss +Griselda in a sententious voice. As she spoke she closed the diary, +clasped it and locked it, and Miss Katharine, starting to her feet, +said: + +"There are the children in London, your grandchildren, father, and our +nearest of kin." + +The squire favored his younger daughter with a withering look, and even +Miss Griselda started at what were very bold words. + +"Those children," said the squire--"girls, both of them, sickly, weakly, +with Valentine's miserable pink-and-white delicacy and their low born +mother's vulgarity; I said I would never see them, and I surely do not +wish to hear about them now. Griselda, there is now one plain and +manifest duty before you--I lay it as my dying charge on you and +Katharine. I leave the search which you are to institute as your mission +in life. While you both live Avonsyde is yours, but you must search the +world over if necessary for Rupert Lovel's descendants; and when you +discover them you are to elect a bonny stalwart boy of the house as your +heir. No matter whether he is eldest or youngest, whether he is in a +high position or a low position in the social scale, provided he is a +lineal descendant of the Rupert Lovel who was disinherited in 1684, and +provided also he is strong and upright and well-featured, with muscle +and backbone and manliness in him, you are to appoint him your heir, and +you are to bequeath to him the old house, and the old lands, and all the +money you can save by simple and abstemious living. I have written it +down in my will, and you are tied firmly, both of you, and cannot depart +from my instructions; but I wished to talk over matters with you, for +Katharine there is slow to take in a thing, and you, Grizel, are +prejudiced and rancorous in your temper, and I wish you both clearly to +understand that the law binds you to search for my heir, and this, if +you want to inherit a shilling from me during your lifetime, you must +do. Remember, however, and bear ever strongly in mind, that if, when you +find the family, the elder son is weakly and the younger son is strong, +it is to the sturdy boy that the property is to go; and hark you yet +again, Griselda and Katharine, that the property is not to go to the +father if he is alive, but to the young boy, and the boy is to be +educated to take up his rightful position. A strong lad, a manly and +stalwart lad, mind you; for Avonsyde has almost ceased to exist, owing +to sickly and effeminate heirs, since the time when my +great-great-grandfather quarreled with his son, Rupert Lovel, and gave +the old place to that weakly stripling Valentine. I am a descendant of +Valentine myself, but, 'pon my word, I rue the day." + +"Your directions shall be obeyed to the letter," said Miss Griselda; but +Miss Katharine interrupted her. + +"And we--we have only a life-interest in the property, father?" she +inquired in a quavering voice. + +The old squire looked up into his younger daughter's face and laughed. + +"Why, what more would you want, Kitty? No longer young nor fair and with +no thought of marrying--what is money to you after your death?" + +"I was thinking of the orphan children in London," continued Miss +Katharine, with increasing firmness of manner and increasing trembling +of voice. "They are very poor, and--and--they are Valentine's children, +and--and--you have never seen them, father." + +"And never mean to," snapped the squire. "Griselda, I believe I have now +given implicit directions. Katharine, don't be silly. I don't mean to +see those children and I won't be worried about them." + +At this moment the door behind the squire, which was very thick and made +of solid oak, worn nearly black with age, was opened softly, and a clear +voice exclaimed: + +"Why, what a funny room! Do come in, Kitty. Oh, what a beautiful room, +and what a funny, queer old man!" + +Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine both turned round abruptly. Miss +Griselda made a step toward the door to shut it against some unexpected +and unwelcome intruder. The old man muttered: + +"That is a child's voice--one of the village urchins, no doubt." + +But before Miss Griselda could reach the door--in short, before any of +the little party assembled in the dying squire's bedroom could do +anything but utter disjointed exclamations, a child, holding a younger +child by the hand, marched boldly and with the air of one perfectly at +home into the chamber. + +"What a very nice room, and what funny ladies, and oh! what a queer, +cross old man! Don't be frightened, Kitty, we'll walk right through. +There's a door at the other end--maybe we'll find grandfather in the room +beyond the door at that end." + +The squire's lower jaw quite dropped as the radiant little creatures +came in and filled the room with an unlooked-for light and beauty. They +were dressed picturesquely, and no one for an instant could mistake them +for the village children. The eldest child might have been seven; she +was tall and broad, with large limbs, a head crowned with a great wealth +of tangly, fuzzy, nut-brown hair, eyes deeply set, very dark in color, a +richly tinted dark little face, and an expression of animation which +showed in the dancing eyes, in the dancing limbs, in the smiling, +dimpled, confident mouth; her proud little head was well thrown back; +her attitude was totally devoid of fear. The younger child was fair with +a pink-and-white complexion, a quantity of golden, sunny hair, and eyes +as blue as the sky; she could not have been more than four years old, +and was round-limbed and dimpled like a baby. + +"Who are you, my dears?" said Miss Katharine when she could speak. Miss +Katharine was quite trembling, and she could not help smiling at the +lovely little pair. Squire Lovel and Miss Grizel were still frowning, +but Miss Katharine's voice was very gentle. + +"Who are you, my dear little children?" she repeated, gaining courage +and letting an affectionate inflection steal into her voice. + +"I'm Kitty," said the younger child, putting her finger to her lip and +looking askance at the elder girl, "and she--she's Rachel." + +"You had better let me tell it, Kitty," interrupted Rachel. "Please, we +are going through the house--we want to see everything. Kitty doesn't +want to as badly as me, but she always does what I tell her. We are +going straight on into the next room, for we want to find grandfather. +I'm Rachel Lovel and this is Kitty Lovel. Our papa used to live here +when he was a little boy, and we want to find grandfather, please. Oh, +what a cross old man that is sitting in the chair!" + +While Rachel was making her innocent and confident speech, Miss +Katharine's face turned deadly pale; she was afraid even to glance at +her father and sister. The poor lady felt nearly paralyzed, and was +dimly wondering how she could get such audacious intruders out of the +room. + +Rachel having finished her speech remained silent for a quarter of a +minute; then taking Kitty's hand she said: + +"Come along, Kit, we may find grandfather in the other room. We'll go +through the door at that end, and perhaps we'll come to grandfather at +last." + +Kitty heaved a little sigh of relief, and the two were preparing to +scamper past the deep embrasure of the mullioned window, when a stern +voice startled the little adventurers, and arresting them in their +flight, caused them to wheel swiftly round. + +"Come here," said Squire Lovel. + +He had never spoken more sternly; but the mites had not a bit of fear. +They marched up to him boldly, and Kitty laid her dimpled baby finger, +with a look of inquiry, on his swollen old hand: + +"What a funny fat hand!" + +"What did you say you called yourself?" said the squire, lifting +Rachel's chin and peering into her dark face. "Griselda and Katharine, +I'll thank you not to stand staring and gaping. What did you call +yourself? What name did you say belonged to you, child? I'm hard of +hearing; tell me again." + +"I'm Rachel Valentine Lovel," repeated the child in a confident tone. "I +was called after my mamma and after father--father's in heaven, and it +makes my mother cry to say Valentine, so I'm Rachel; and this is +Kitty--her real name is Katharine--Katharine Lovel. We have come in a +dog-cart, and mother is downstairs, and we want to see all the house, +and particularly the tower, and we want to see grandfather, and we want +a bunch of grapes each." + +All the time Rachel was speaking the squire kept regarding her more and +more fiercely. When she said "My mother is downstairs," he even gave her +a little push away. Rachel was not at all appalled; she knit her own +black brows and tried to imitate him. + +"I never saw such a cross old man; did you, Kitty? Please, old man, let +us go now. We want to find grandfather." + +"Perhaps it's a pain him got," said Kitty, stroking the swollen hand +tenderly. "Mother says when I's got a pain I can't help looking cross." + +The fierce old eyes turned slowly from one lovely little speaker to the +other; then the squire raised his head and spoke abruptly. + +"Griselda and Katharine, come here. Have the goodness to tell me who +this child resembles," pointing as he spoke to Rachel. "Look at her +well, study her attentively, and don't both answer at once." + +There was not the slightest fear of Miss Katharine interrupting Miss +Griselda on this occasion. She only favored dark-eyed little Rachel with +a passing glance; but her eyes, full of tears, rested long on the fair +little baby face of Kitty. + +"This child in all particulars resembles the portrait of our great-uncle +Rupert," said Miss Griselda, nodding at Rachel as she did so. "The same +eyes, the same lift of the eyebrows, and the same mouth." + +"And this one," continued the squire, turning his head and pointing to +Kitty--"this one, Griselda? Katharine, you need not speak." + +"This one," continued Miss Griselda, "has the weakness and effeminate +beauty of my dead brother Valentine." + +"Kitty isn't weak," interrupted Rachel; "she's as strong as possible. +She only had croup once, and she never takes cold, and she only was ill +for a little because she was very hungry. Please, old man, stop staring +so hard and let us go now. We want to find our grandfather." + +But instead of letting Rachel go Squire Lovel stretched out his hand and +drew her close to him. + +"Sturdy limbs, dark face, breadth of figure," he muttered, "and you are +my grandchild--the image of Rupert; yes, the image of Rupert Lovel. I +wish to God, child, you were a boy!" + +"Your grandchild!" repeated Rachel. "Are you my grandfather? Kitty, +Kitty, is this our grandfather?" + +"Him's pain is better," said Kitty. "I see a little laugh 'ginning to +come round his mouth. Him's not cross. Let us kiss our grandfader, +Rachel." + +Up went two rosy, dimpled pairs of lips to the withered old cheeks, and +two lovely little pairs of arms were twined round Squire Lovel's neck. + +"We have found our grandfather," said Rachel. "Now let's go downstairs +at once and bring mother up to see him." + +"No, no, stop that!" said the squire, suddenly disentangling himself +from the pretty embrace. "Griselda and Katharine, this scene is too much +for me. I should not be agitated--those children should not intrude on +me. Take care of them--take particular care of the one who is like +Rupert. Take her away now; take them both away; and, hark you, do not +let the mother near me. I'll have nothing to say to the mother; she is +nothing to me. Take the children out of the room and come back to me +presently, both of you." + + + + +CHAPTER II.--MAKING TERMS. + + +The moment the two little girls found themselves outside their +grandfather's door they wrenched their little hands away from Miss +Griselda's and Miss Katharine's, and with a gay laugh like two wild, +untamed birds flew down the wide oak staircase and across the hall to a +room where a woman, dressed very soberly, waited for them. She was +sitting on the edge of a hard cane-bottomed chair, her veil was down, +and her whole attitude was one of tense and nervous watchfulness. The +children ran to her with little cries of rapture, climbed together on +her knee, pulled up her veil, and nearly smothered her pale dark face +with kisses. + +"Mother, mother, mother, he was so cross!" + +"He had pain, mother, and him's eyes was wrinkled up so." + +"But, mother, we gave him a kiss, and he said I was strong and Kitty was +weak. We have not seen the tower yet, and we haven't got our grapes, and +there are two old ladies, and we don't like them much, and we ran away +from them--and--oh, here they are!" + +The children clung tightly to their mother, who struggled to her feet, +pushed them aside with a gesture almost of despair, and came up at once +to the two Miss Lovels. + +"I know this visit is unwarranted; I know it is considered an intrusion. +The children's father was born here, but there is no welcome for them; +nevertheless I have brought them. They are beautiful children--look at +them. No fairer daughters of your house ever were born than these two. +Look at Rachel; look at Kitty. Is it right they should be brought up +with no comforts in a poor London lodging? Rachel, kiss your aunts. +Kitty, little one, kiss your aunts and love them." + +Rachel skipped up gayly to the two stiff old ladies, but Kitty began at +last to be influenced by the frowns which met her on all sides; she +pouted, turned her baby face away, and buried it in her mother's lap. + +"Look at them--are they not beautiful?" continued the mother. "Is it fair +that they should be cooped up in a London lodging when their father +belonged to this place? I ask you both--you who are my husband's sisters; +you who were children when he was a child, who used to play with him and +kiss him, and learn your lessons out of the same book, and to sleep in +the same nursery--is it fair?" + +"It is not fair," said Miss Katharine suddenly. She seemed carried quite +out of herself; her eyes shone, and the pink of a long-gone beauty +returned with a transient gleam to her faded cheek. "It is not fair," +she repeated. "No, Griselda, I am not afraid of you. I will say what is +in my mind. Valentine's face speaks to me again out of the baby face of +that dear little child. What was Rupert Lovel to us that we should place +a likeness to him before a likeness to our own dead brother? I say it is +unfair that Valentine's children should have neither part nor lot in his +old home. I, for one, am willing to welcome them to Avonsyde." + +Miss Griselda had always a most placid face; she now said in her calmest +tones: + +"There is no need to excite yourself, Katharine. I too think the +children have a claim on us. An arrangement can easily be made about the +children--their mother is the difficulty." + +The face of the plainly dressed young woman could scarcely grow any +paler. She gave a quick, very quick glance at handsome little Rachel, +who stood with her head thrown back and her eyes eagerly watching each +movement of the excited group around her; then the mother's hand touched +Kitty's golden head with a very faint caressing touch, and then she +spoke: + +"I have come to make terms. I knew I should be considered an obstacle, +but that is a mistake. I will be none. I am willing--I am willing to +obliterate myself. I would talk to you and make terms, but I would make +them alone--I mean I would rather not make them in the presence of the +children." + +"I will take the children," said Miss Katharine eagerly; "they want to +see the house; I will take them round. They want grapes; I will take +them to the vineries." + +"Oh, yes, we want grapes," said Rachel in an excited voice; "we want +lots of grapes--don't we, Kitty?" + +"Yes; lots," answered Kitty, turning her flushed little face once more +to view. She had been hiding it for the last few minutes against her +mother's black dress. + +"That is my father's bell," said Miss Griselda suddenly. "I must hurry +to him. I will see you presently, Mrs. Lovel; and, Katharine, you too +must be present at our interview. I must ask Mrs. Martin to take the +children round the place." + +Miss Griselda opened the thick oak door of the squire's bedroom and went +in. Her face was changed in expression and her usual self-possession had +to a certain extent deserted her. + +"What an age you have been away, Grizel," said the old man testily. "You +might have known that I'd want you. Did I not tell you to take the +children out of the room and to come back to me presently? Did you not +hear me when I said, 'Come back to me presently?' Oh, I see how things +are!" continued the irate old man, with a burst of fury. "I am weak and +ill now and my commands are nothing--my wishes are not of the slightest +consequence. I know how it will be when I'm gone. You and Katharine +promise faithfully to obey me now, but you'll forget your promises when +I'm gone. Even you, Griselda, who have always had the character of being +strong-minded, will think nothing of your given word when I'm in my +grave." + +"You're tired, father," said Miss Griselda, "and the unexpected +intrusion of the children has excited you. Let me pour you out a dose of +your restorative medicine. Here, drink this; now you will feel better." + +The old squire's hand shook so much that he could not hold the glass +which Miss Griselda tendered to him; but she held it herself to his +lips, and when he had drained off its contents he grew a shade calmer. + +"One of those children is very like Rupert Lovel," he murmured. "A +strong girl, with a bold, fine face. You never would have supposed that +that weak stripling Valentine would have had a child of that build, +would you, Grizel?" + +"No, father. But the little girl has a likeness to her mother, and it is +about the mother I have now come to speak to you. Oh, come now, you must +try and listen to me. You must not get over-excited, and you must not +begin to talk absolute rubbish about my disobeying your wishes; for you +have positively got to settle something about Valentine's children." + +"I said I'd have nothing to say to them." + +"Very likely; but you said so before you saw them. Having seen them, it +is absolutely impossible for you to turn Valentine's orphan children +from the doors. Their mother cannot support them, and she has brought +them to us and we must not turn them away. I may as well tell you +plainly that I will never consent to the children being sent away from +Avonsyde. I won't wait to disobey you until you are dead in that matter. +I shall do so at once, and quite openly, for I could never have another +easy night on my pillow if I thought Valentine's children were +starving." + +"Who wants them to starve?" grumbled the squire. + +But Miss Griselda's firm words had an effect, and he lowered his chin on +his chest and looked gloomily straight before him. + +"The mother has come here to make terms," said Miss Griselda. "Now what +shall they be?" + +"At least she shall not sleep under my roof! A low girl--no match for +Valentine! If I said it once I repeat it fifty times. I will never look +on that woman's face, Grizel!" + +"I don't want you to, father. I agree with you that she had better go. +Now let me tell you, in as few words as I can, what I intend to propose +to Katharine and to Mrs. Lovel, with your sanction, presently. The +children must stay at Avonsyde. If the heir is never found, well and +good; they are provided for. If, on the other hand, the heir turns up, +they are, according to the present conditions of your will, absolutely +penniless. Now I don't choose this. Valentine's children must be +provided for under any emergency, and you must make a fresh codicil to +your will." + +"I will not!" + +"Father, you must. Valentine was your own son; these children are your +rightful and legitimate heirs. I am heart and soul with you in your wish +to find the lawful descendant of Rupert Lovel--I promise to devote my +life to this search; but Valentine's children must not go penniless. You +must make a codicil to your will providing comfortably for them in case +the lawful heir turns up." + +"How can I? The doctor says I have not many hours to live." + +"Long enough for that, no doubt. We cannot, unfortunately, send for Mr. +Baring from London, but I will send a man on horseback to Southampton, +and Mr. Terry, the Barings' country partner, will be here in two or +three hours." + +"I tell you I have only a few hours to live," repeated the squire, +sinking his head lower on his chest and looking daggers at his daughter. + +"Long enough for that," she repeated. + +She rose from her seat and went across the room to ring the bell. When +the servant entered the room she gave some very clear and emphatic +directions, and then desiring the nurse who waited on her father to be +summoned, she left the room. + +Her interview had scarcely been a peaceable one, and as she went +downstairs her usually calm expression was considerably disturbed. + +"I can make terms with the mother now," she murmured. "But I am not +going even to tell my father what they are." And she went downstairs. + +Floating in through the open window came the sound of gay, childish +mirth, and looking out she saw the little strangers dancing and laughing +and chatting merrily to old Mrs. Martin, the housekeeper, as she took +them round the grounds. + +Then Miss Griselda went downstairs, and she and Miss Katharine had their +interview with the grave, quiet young mother, who had come, as she said, +to make terms. No one heard what they said to her nor what she said to +them; no one knew what arrangements were arrived at between the three; +no one guessed either then or long years afterward what the terms were. +When the somewhat protracted interview had come to an end, the young +mother left Miss Griselda's study with her veil drawn tightly over her +face. If her eyes were red and her lips trembled, no one noticed those +signs of grief through her thick crape veil. Miss Griselda offered her +food, and Miss Katharine wanted to take her hand and wring it with a +kindly pressure; but she shook her head at the one and drew back proudly +from the other's proffered hand-shake. + +The dog-cart was waiting at a side entrance, and she got into it and +drove away. Nor did she once look back as she drove down the long +straight avenue under the shade of the old forest trees. + +That night Squire Lovel said a word or two to his daughters. + +"So you have kept the children?" + +"We have kept the children," repeated Miss Griselda tersely. + +"It is nothing to me. I have made that codicil to my will. You have had +your way in that." + +"You have done justice, father--you will die happier," replied Miss +Griselda. + +"Have you made arrangements with the mother?" questioned the squire. + +"The mother will not trouble us; we have arranged with her," answered +the elder Miss Lovel. + +"We have made arrangements with her," echoed Miss Katharine, and here +she bent her head and gave vent to a little choking sob. + +The squire was very restless all night, and several times the words +"Kitty" and "Valentine" escaped his lips. The end was near and the poor +old brain was wandering. + +Toward morning he was left alone for a few moments with Miss Katharine. + +"Father," she said suddenly, kneeling by his bedside, clasping his hand, +and looking at him imploringly, "father, you would bid us be kind to +Valentine's children?" + +"Valentine's children?" repeated the old man. "Ay, ay, Kitty. My head +wanders. Are they Valentine's children or Rupert's children?--the Rupert +who should have inherited Avonsyde. Somebody's children were here +to-day, but I cannot remember whether they belonged to Valentine or +Rupert." + +"Father, they belong to Valentine--to your son Valentine. You are dying. +May I bring them to you, and will you bless them before you go?" + +The old squire looked up at his daughter with dim and fading eyes. She +did not wait to listen for any assent from his lips, but flying from the +room, returned presently with two rosy, cherub-like creatures. + +"Kiss your grandfather, Kitty; his pain is bad. Kiss him tenderly, dear +little child." + +Kitty pursed up her full red lips and gave the required salute solemnly. + +"Now, Rachel, kiss your grandfather; he is very ill." + +Rachel too raised herself on tiptoe, and bending forward touched the old +man's lips lightly with her own. + +"Rupert's child," he murmured; "ay, ay, just like Rupert." + +Shortly afterward he died. + + + + +CHAPTER III.--PREPARING FOR THE HEIR + + +"I wonder, Rachel," said Kitty, "I wonder when the heir will be found." + +Rachel had curled herself up in a luxurious arm-chair, was devouring a +new story-book, and was in consequence displeased with Kitty for her +question. + +"Let me read, Kitty. In half an hour I have to go to my drill, and then +practicing, and then learning those tiresome lessons. I don't care if an +heir is never found; do let me read!" + +"There's another one coming to-morrow," continued Kitty in a by no means +abashed voice; "his name is Philip and his mother is coming with him. I +heard Aunt Grizel telling Mrs. Eyre all about it, and, Rachel--oh, +Rachel, do listen! they are to sleep in the bedroom directly under Aunt +Katharine's and Aunt Grizel's room in the tower." + +This last piece of information was sufficiently interesting to Rachel to +make her fling down her book with an impetuous gesture. + +"What a tiresome Kitty you are. I never can read when you come into the +room. I was in a most exciting part, but never mind. My half-hour of +quiet will be gone in no time. I had better keep the book until I can +steal away into the forest and read it in peace." + +"But isn't it exciting," pursued Kitty, "to think that they are going to +sleep in the tower bedroom?" + +"And his name is Philip!" repeated Rachel, "Philip is the name of this +one--the last was Guy, and the one before was Ferdinand, and the one +before that was Augustus. I want an heir to come of the name of +Zerubbabel. I like Zerubbabel, and it's uncommon. What a pity this one's +name is Philip!" + +"Oh, he's not the real heir," said little Kitty, shaking her head +solemnly; "he's only another make-believe; but it's rather exciting his +mother coming too and the tower room being prepared. Rachel, aren't you +almost certain that when the real, true heir comes his name will be +Rupert? Why, of course it must be Rupert--mustn't it, Rachel?" + +"I don't know and I don't care," answered Rachel, tumbling out of her +luxurious chair and shaking back her dark, untidy locks. "How old is +Philip, Kitty? Poor Philip, I wish him joy of the place! He'll find it +dull enough, and he'll find Aunt Grizel very tiresome and Aunt Katharine +very sweet, but very stupid, and he'll wish he wasn't the heir a +thousand times in the twenty-four hours. How old is he, Kitty-cat? Just +tell me quickly, for I must go." + +"He's eight years old," replied Kitty in a very interested tone; "that's +another thing that's exciting--his being so near to my age. Aunt Grizel +says that he'll be a sort of a companion for me. I do hope he'll be a +nice little boy." + +"I don't care anything at all about him," said Rachel; "he may be the +heir or he may not. I'm not in the least interested. I don't see +anything exciting in the fact of a stupid little boy coming to Avonsyde +with his mother; it's a slow place and he'll have a slow life, and +there's nothing to interest me about it." + +"Oh, Rachel, I never could guess that you found Avonsyde slow. If you +do, why do you laugh so merrily and why do you look so gay?" + +"I never said that I found Avonsyde dull," answered Rachel, turning +round with a quick, flashing movement. "No place is slow or dull to me. +But I'm not going to stay here; I'm going to school, and then afterward +I'm going right round the world looking for mother. Oh, that's my +drill-sergeant's bell! What a worry he is! Good-by, Kitty-cat." + +Rachel skipped out of the room, banging the door after her, and Kitty +climbed into her chair, and leaning back in it shut her pretty blue +eyes. + +It was five years now since the children had come to Avonsyde, and Kitty +had absolutely forgotten the dismal day of their arrival. She knew that +she had a mother, for Rachel reminded her of the fact; but she could +recall no outline of her face. + +Rachel not only spoke of her mother, but remembered her. Vivid memories +of a grave, sweet, sad face came to her at intervals, and when these +memories visited the child longings came also. Why had her mother gone +away? Why were Kitty and she practically motherless? Who were the wicked +people who had divided this mother and these children? + +When these thoughts came Rachel's dark little face would work with +strong emotion; and if Aunt Griselda or Aunt Katharine happened to be +near, she would feel tempted to answer them defiantly and to favor them +with flashing, angry glances. + +"I miss my mother!" she would sob sometimes at night. "I wish--oh, how I +wish I could give her a long, big, great kiss! Well, never mind: when I +am old enough I'll go all round the world looking for her, for I know +she is not dead." + +These storms of grief did not come often, and on the whole the children +had spent five very happy years at Avonsyde. Aunt Grizel and Aunt +Katharine had each in her own way been good to them--Aunt Grizel erring +on the side of over-severity, Aunt Katharine on the side of +over-indulgence. But the children had no fear in their natures, and were +so bright and frank and charming that even Aunt Katharine's petting +could not do them any harm. They were well taught and well cared for, +and were universal favorites wherever they went--the extreme side of +Kitty being prone to over-tenderness; the extreme side of Rachel to +over-brusqueness and almost fierceness. + +Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine said very little about their affection +for the children--very little either to the children themselves or to one +another. They were reserved women and thought it undignified to speak of +their feelings. Neither Rachel nor Kitty was at all proud of being +Lovels of Avonsyde; but Miss Griselda thought her position above that of +a countess, and Miss Katharine supported her great honors with a meek +little air of becoming pride. The old ladies' great object in life was +to find the missing heir, and Miss Griselda had even once picked up +sufficient courage to go to America, accompanied by the family lawyer +and his wife, in search of him; but though many little boys came to +Avonsyde and many fathers and mothers sent in all kinds of extraordinary +claims, the heir who could claim direct descent from Rupert Lovel, the +strong and sturdy boy who was to bring back a fresh epoch of health and +life and vigor to the old family tree, and not yet arrived. + +Now, however, shortly after Rachel's twelfth birthday and in the middle +of a glorious summer, little Philip Lovel was expected. His mother was +to bring him and he was to sleep in the tower room, which, as Kitty +said, was most exciting. Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine too were +excited; and Miss Griselda said with an unusual burst of confidence to +her younger sister: + +"If the boy turns out to be a true descendant of Rupert's, and if he is +blessed with good physical health, I shall feel a great load off my +mind." + +Miss Katharine smiled in reply. + +"God grant the little boy may be the heir," she said; "but, Griselda, I +don't like the tone of the mother's letters." + + + + +CHAPTER IV.--A SPARTAN BOY. + + +"Philip?" + +"Yes, mother." + +"You quite understand that you have got to be a very good little boy?" + +"Oh, yes, mother, I understand." + +"It's a big, grand place--it's what is described as an ancient place, and +dates back hundreds and hundreds of years, and you, you--why, what is the +matter, Philip?" + +"Is it antediluvian?" asked Philip, jumping up from his seat opposite +his mother in the railway carriage. "Oh, I do hope and trust it's +antediluvian!" + +"How you do puzzle me with your queer words, Philip. Antediluvian!--that +means before the Flood. Oh, no, Avonsyde wasn't in existence before the +Flood; but still it is very old, and the ladies who live there are +extremely grand people. You haven't been accustomed to living in a great +ancient house, and you haven't been accustomed to the manner of such +grand ancient ladies as the Misses Griselda and Katharine Lovel, and I +do trust--I do hope you will behave properly." + +"Hullo! There's a spider up in that window," interrupted the boy. "I +must try to catch him. There! he has run into his hole. Oh, mother, +mother, look! there's a windmill! See, it's going round so fast! And, I +say, isn't that a jolly river? I want to fish and to shoot when I get to +the grand place. I don't care what else I do if only I have plenty of +fishing and shooting." + +Philip Lovel's mother knit her brows. She was a tall, fashionably +dressed woman, with a pale face, a somewhat peevish expression, and a +habit of drawing her eyebrows together until they nearly met. + +"Philip, you must attend to me," she said, drawing the little boy down +to stand quietly by her side. "I have got you a whole trunkful of nice +gentlemanly clothes, and I have spent a heap of money over you, and you +must--yes, you must please the old ladies. Why, Phil, if this scheme +fails we shall starve." + +"Oh, don't, mother, don't!" said little Phil, looking full up into his +mother's face, and revealing as he did so two sensitive and beautiful +brown eyes, the only redeeming features in a very plain little +countenance. "Don't cry, mother! I'll be a good boy, of course. Now, may +I go back and see if that spider has come out of his hole?" + +"No, Philip, never mind the spider. I have you all to myself, and we +shall be at Avonsyde in less than an hour. I want to impress it upon +you, so that you may keep it well in your memory what you are to do. +Now, are you listening to me, Phil?" + +"I am trying to," answered Philip. "I do hope, mother, you won't tell me +too many things, for I never can remember anything for more than a +minute at a time." + +Philip smiled and looked up saucily, but Mrs. Lovel was far too much +absorbed in what she was about to say to return his smiling glance. + +"Philip, I trained you badly," she began. "You were let run wild; you +were let do pretty much as you liked; you weren't at all particularly +obedient. Now, I don't at all want the Miss Lovels to find that out. You +are never to tell how you helped Betty with the cakes, and you are never +to tell about polishing your own boots, and you are not to let out for a +moment how you and I did our own gardening. If you speak of Betty you +must call her your nurse; and if you speak of Jim, who was such a +troublesome boy, you can mention him as the gardener, and not say that +he was only twelve years old." + +"What a lot of lies I'm to tell," said Philip, opening his eyes wider +and wider. "Go on, mother--what else am I to do?" + +Mrs. Lovel gave the little speaker a shake. + +"Philip, what an exasperating child you are! Of course you are not to be +so wicked as to attempt to tell lies. Oh, what a bad boy you are even to +think of such a thing! I only want you to be a nice, gentlemanly little +boy and not to speak of vulgar things, and of course it is very vulgar +to allude to a maid-of-all-work like Betty and to cleaning one's own +boots; but as to lies--what do you mean, sir? Oh, there, the train is +slackening speed. We'll soon be at the station, and the carriage was to +meet us. Remember, Philip, always be on your best behavior at Avonsyde! +Don't speak unless you are spoken to, and always be on the lookout to +please the old ladies. There are two little girls, I believe; but they +are not of the slightest consequence. Dear, dear, I feel quite +trembling! I hope--I trust all will go well! Philip, dear, you have not +felt that pain in your side all day, have you?" + +"No, mother; I have not felt it for days. I am much better really." + +"I don't want you to speak of it, love. I am most anxious that the +ladies should consider you a strong boy. The doctors say you are almost +certain to get over the pain; and when the Miss Lovels appoint you their +heir it will be time enough to mention it. If the pain comes on very +badly you will keep it to yourself--won't you, Phil? You won't groan or +scream or anything of that sort; and you can always run up to my room +and I can give you the drops. Oh, Phil, Phil, if this scheme fails we +shall simply starve!" + +Philip, with his queer, old-fashioned face, looked full at his mother. + +"I'll be a Spartan boy and bear the pain," he said. "I don't care a bit +about being rich or having a big place; but I don't want you to starve, +mother. Oh, I say, there's that jolly little spider again!" + +When the London express halted at last at the small country station, +Philip was gazing in ecstasy at a marvelous complication of web and +dust, at one or two entrapped flies, and at a very malicious but clever +spider. His mother was shaking out her draperies, composing her +features, and wondering--wondering hard how a very bold scheme would +prosper. + +"Jump down, Phil. Here we are!" she called to her boy. + +The child, an active, lithe little fellow, obeyed her. Not a trace of +anxiety could be discerned on his small face. In truth, he had forgotten +Avonsyde in the far more absorbing interest of the spider. + + * * * * * + +"I am glad to welcome you, Mrs. Lovel!" said Miss Griselda as she came +forward to greet the new-comers. She was standing in the old hall, and +the light from a western window of rich old stained glass fell in +slanting hues on a very eager and interested group. Behind Miss Griselda +stood her shadow, Miss Katharine, and Rachel's bold dark face and +Kitty's sunny one could be seen still further in the background. Rachel +pretended not to be the least interested in the arrival of the +strangers, nevertheless her bright eyes looked singularly alert. Kitty +did not attempt to hide the very keen interest she took in the little +boy who was so nearly her own age, and who was to be so greatly honored +as to sleep in the tower room. Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine wore +their richest black silks and some of their most valuable lace; for +surely this was the real heir, and they intended to give him a befitting +reception. The old housekeeper and one or two other servants might have +been seen peeping in the distance; they were incredulous, but curious. +Mrs. Lovel took in the whole scene at a glance; the aspect of affairs +pleased her and her versatile spirits rose. She took Philip's little +hand in hers and led him up to Miss Griselda. + +"This," she said in a gentle and humble voice--"this is my little boy." + +"Philip Lovel," responded Miss Griselda, "look up at me, child--full in +the face. Ah! you have got the Lovel eyes. How do you do, my dear? +Welcome to Avonsyde!" + +"Welcome to Avonsyde!" repeated Miss Katharine, looking anxiously from +the fashionably dressed mother to the precocious boy. "Are you very +tired, my dear? You look so pale." + +Phil glanced from one old lady's face to the other. His mother felt +herself shaking. She saw at once that he had forgotten their +conversation in the train, and wondered what very malapropos remark he +would make. Phil had a habit of going off into little dreams and +brown-studies. He looked inquiringly at Miss Katharine; then he gazed +searchingly at Miss Griselda; then he shook himself and said abruptly: + +"I beg your pardon--what did you ask me?" + +"Oh, Phil, how rude!" interrupted Mrs. Lovel. "The ladies asked you if +you were tired, love. Tell them at once that you are not in the least +so. Pale children are so often considered delicate," continued Mrs. +Lovel anxiously, "whereas they are quite acknowledged by many physicians +to be stronger than the rosy ones. Say you are not tired, Phil, and +thank Miss Katharine for taking an interest in your health." + +Phil smiled. + +"I'm not tired," he said. "I had a pleasant journey. There was a spider +in the carriage, and I saw a windmill. And oh! please, am I to call you +auntie, or what?" + +"Aunt Katharine," interposed the lady. + +"Aunt Katharine, do you fish? and may I fish?" + +Here Kitty burst into a delighted chuckle of amusement, and going +frankly up to Phil took his hand. + +"I can fish," she said; "of course Aunt Katharine can't fish, but I can. +I've got a rod, a nice little rod; and if you are not tired you may as +well come and see it." + +"Then I'm going out with my book," said Rachel. "I'm going into the +forest. Perhaps I'll meet the lady there. Good-by, Kitty-cat; good-by, +little boy." + +Rachel disappeared through one door, Kitty and Phil through another, and +Mrs. Lovel and the two old ladies of Avonsyde were left to make +acquaintance with one another. + +"Come into the drawing-room," said Miss Griselda; "your little boy and +the children will get on best alone. He is a muscular-looking little +fellow, although singularly pale. Where did you say he was born--in +Mexico?" + +"In Mexico," replied Mrs. Lovel, repressing a sigh. "The true Mexican +lads are about the strongest in the world; but he of course is really of +English parentage, although his father and his grandfather never saw +England. Yes, Phil was born in Mexico, but shortly afterward we moved +into the American States, and before my husband died we had emigrated to +Australia. Phil is a strong boy and has had the advantage of travel and +constant change--that is why he is so wiry. The hot country in which he +was born accounts for his pallor, but he is remarkably strong." + +Mrs. Lovel's words came out quickly and with the nervousness of one who +was not very sure of a carefully prepared lesson. Suspicious people +would have doubted this anxious-looking woman on the spot, but neither +Miss Griselda nor Miss Katharine was at all of a suspicious turn of +mind. Miss Griselda said: + +"You have traveled over a great part of the habitable globe and we have +remained--I and my sister and our immediate ancestors before us--in the +privacy and shelter of Avonsyde. To come here will be a great change for +you and your boy." + +"A great rest--a great delight!" replied Mrs. Lovel, clasping her hands +ecstatically. "Oh, dear Miss Lovel, you don't know what it is to weary +for a home as I have wearied." + +Her words were genuine and tears stood in her pale blue eyes. + +Miss Griselda considered tears and raptures rather undignified; but Miss +Katharine, who was very sympathetic, looked at the widow with new +interest. + +"It is wonderfully interesting to feel that your little boy belongs to +us," she said. "He seems a nice little fellow, very naive and fresh. +Won't you sit in this comfortable chair? You can get such a nice view of +the forest from here. And do you take cream and sugar in your tea?" + +"A very little cream and no sugar," replied Mrs. Lovel as she leaned +back luxuriously in the proffered chair. "What a lovely view! And what a +quaint, beautiful room. I remember my husband telling me that Avonsyde +belonged to his family for nearly eight hundred years, and that the +house was almost as old as the property. Is this room really eight +hundred years old? It looks wonderfully quaint." + +"You happen to be in the most modern part of the house, Mrs. Lovel," +replied Miss Griselda icily. "This drawing-room and all this wing were +added by my grandfather, and this special room was first opened for the +reception of company when my mother came here as a bride. The exact date +of this room is a little over half a century. You shall see the older +part of the house presently; this part is very painfully modern." + +Mrs. Lovel bowed and sipped her tea as comfortably as she could under +the impression of being snubbed. + +"I have never been in a very old house before," she said. "You know in +Mexico, in the States, in Australia, the houses must be modern." + +"May I ask if you have brought your pedigree?" inquired Miss Griselda. +"Yes, Katharine, you need not look at me in such a surprised manner. We +neither of us have an idea of troubling Mrs. Lovel to show it to us +now--not indeed until she has rested; but it is absolutely necessary to +trace Philip's descent from Rupert Lovel at as early a date as possible. +That being correctly ascertained and found to be indisputable, we must +have him examined by some eminent physician; and if the medical man +pronounces him to be an extremely strong boy our quest is ended, and you +and I, Katharine, can rest in peace. Mrs. Lovel, you look very tired. +Would you like to retire to your room? Katharine, will you ring the +bell, dear? We will ask Newbolt to accompany Mrs. Lovel to her room and +to attend on her. Newbolt is our maid, Mrs Lovel, and quite a denizen of +the forest; she can tell you all the local traditions." + +"Thank you," said Mrs. Lovel. "Yes, I shall be glad to lie down for a +little. I do hope Philip is not tiring himself--not that he is likely to; +he is so strong. Thank you, Miss Lovel, I will lie down for a little. +Yes, of course I brought the pedigree--and--and--a very quaint house; even +the new part looks old to me!" + +Mrs. Lovel tripped out of the room, and the two old ladies looked at one +another. + +"What do you think of her, Katharine?" inquired Miss Griselda. "You are +dying to speak, so let me hear your sentiments at once!" + +"I don't quite like her," said Miss Katharine. "She seems very tired and +very nervous, and perhaps it is unfair and unkind to say anything about +her until she is rested. I can't honestly say, however, that my first +impression is favorable, and she may be much nicer when she is not so +tired and not so nervous. I don't like her much at present, but I may +afterward. What are your opinions, Griselda?" + +"Katharine," said Miss Griselda, "you are the most prosaic and +long-winded person I know. You don't suppose for an instant that I am +going to say what I think of Mrs. Lovel to-day. After all, it is the boy +in whom we are interested. Time alone can show whether these two are not +another couple of impostors. Now, I wonder where that child Rachel has +taken herself!" + + + + +CHAPTER V.--IN THE FOREST. + + +Kitty and Philip ran off together hand in hand. They were about the same +height, but Kitty's fair, healthy, flushed face showed in strong +contrast to Phil's pallor, and her round and sturdy limbs gave promise +of coming health and beauty; whereas Phil's slight form only suggested +possible illness, and to a watchful eye would have betokened a short +life. But the boy was wiry and just now he was strongly excited. It was +delightful to be in the real country and more than delightful to go out +with Kitty. + +"You are my cousin, aren't you?" said the little maid, favoring him with +a full, direct glance. + +"I suppose so," he answered. "Yes, I suppose so. I don't quite know." + +Kitty stamped her foot. + +"Don't say that!" she replied. "I hate people who are not quite sure +about things. I want to have a real boy cousin to play with. Two or +three make-believes came here, but they went away again. Of course we +all found them out at once, and they went away. I do trust you are not +another make-believe, Philip. You're very pale and very thin, but I do +hope what's of you is real." + +"Oh, yes; what's of me is real enough," said Phil, with a little sigh. +"Where are you going to take me, Kitty? Into the forest? I want to see +the forest. I wonder will it be as fine as the forest where Ru----I mean +where a cousin of mine and I used to play?" + +"Oh, have you another cousin besides me? How exciting!" + +"Yes; but I don't want to talk about him. Are we going into the forest?" + +"If you like. You see those trees over there? All that is forest; and +then there is a bit of wild moorland, and then more trees; and there is +a pine wood, with such a sweet smell. It's all quite close, and I see it +every day. It isn't very exciting when you see it every day. Your eyes +need not shine like that. You had much better take things quietly, +especially as you are such a very thin boy. Aunt Katharine says thin +people should never get excited. She says it wears them out. Well, if +you must come into the forest I suppose you must; but would you not like +something to eat first? I know what we are to have for tea. Shall I tell +you?" + +"Yes," said Phil; "tell me when we have got under the trees; tell me +when I am looking up through the branches for the birds and the +squirrels. You have not such gay birds as ours, for I watched yours when +I was coming in the train from Southampton; but oh! don't they sing!" + +"You are a very queer boy," said Kitty. "Birds and squirrels and forest +trees, when you might be hearing about delicious frosted cake and jam +rolly-polies. Well, take my hand and let's run into the forest; let's +get it over, if we must get it over. I'll take you down to the Avon to +fish to-morrow. I like fishing--don't you?" + +"Yes," said Phil. "I like nearly everything. Do you fish with flies or +bait?" + +"Oh, with horrid bait! that is the worst of it; but I generally get +Robert--one of our grooms--to bait my lines." + +The children were now under the shade of the trees, and Kitty, after +running about until she was tired, climbed into one of the branches of a +wide-spreading beech tree and rocked herself in a very contented manner +backward and forward. Phil was certainly a very queer little boy, but +she was quite convinced he must be her real true cousin, that he was not +a make-believe, that he would stay on at Avonsyde as the heir, and that +she would always have a companion of her own age to play with. + +"He will get tired of the forest by and by," she said to herself, "and +then he will like best to play with me, and we can fish all day +together. How jolly that will be! What a good thing it is that he is so +nearly my own age, and that he is not older; for if he were he would go +every where with Rachel and be her friend. I should not like that at +all," concluded the little girl, with a very selfish though natural sigh +of satisfaction. + +Presently Phil--having wandered about to his heart's content, having +ascertained the color of several birds which sang over his head, having +treasured up the peculiar quality of their different notes, and having +ascertained beyond all doubt that the English forest was quite the +quaintest and most lovely place in the world--came back and climbed into +the tree by Kitty's side. + +"I'd like him to see it awfully," he said. + +"Who, Phil?" + +"I can't tell you--that's my secret. Kitty, you'll never find that I +shall get accustomed to the forest-I mean so accustomed that I shan't +want to come here. Oh, never, never! A place like this must always have +something new to show you. Kitty, can you imitate all the birds' notes +yet?" + +"I can't imitate one of them," said Kitty, with an impatient frown +coming between her eyebrows. + +"But I know what I want to be doing, and I only wish you had the same +want." + +"Perhaps I have. What is it?" + +"Oh, no, you haven't. You're just like the goody-goody, awfully learned +boys of the story-book. I do wish you wouldn't go into raptures about +stupid trees and birds and things!" + +Phil's little pale face flushed. + +"Rupert--I mean--I mean my dearest friend--a boy you know nothing about, +Kitty--never spoke about its being goody-goody to love things of this +sort, and he is manly if you like. I can't help loving them. But what is +your want, Kitty?" + +"Oh, to have my mouth crammed full of jam rolly-poly! I am so hungry!" + +"So am I too. Let's run back to the house." + +When Philip and Kitty had gone off together for their first exploring +expedition, when the two little strangers to one another had clasped +hands and gone out through the open hall-door and down the shady lawns +together, Rachel had followed them for a few paces. + +She stood still shading her eyes with one hand as she gazed after their +retreating figures; then whistling to an English terrier of the name of +Jupiter, she ran round to the stables and encountered one of the grooms. + +"Robert, put the side-saddle on Surefoot and come with me into the +forest. It is a lovely evening, and I am going for a long ride." + +Robert, a very young and rather sheepish groom, looked appealingly at +the bright and pretty speaker. + +"My mother is ill, Miss Rachel, and Peter do say as I may go home and +see her. Couldn't you ride another evening, missy?" + +"No, I'm going to ride to-night. I wish to and I'm going; but you need +not come with me; it is quite unnecessary. I should like nothing so well +as having a long ride on Surefoot all alone." + +"But the ladies do say, Miss Rachel, as you are not to ride in the +forest by yourself. Oh, if you will go, missy, why, I must just put off +seeing my poor mother until to-morrow." + +Rachel stamped her foot impatiently. + +"Nonsense, Robert!" she said. "I am going to ride alone. I will explain +matters to my aunts, so you need not be at all afraid. Put the +side-saddle on Surefoot at once!" + +Robert's conscience was easily appeased. He ran off and quickly returned +with the rough little forest pony, and Rachel, mounting, cantered off. + +She was an excellent rider and had not a scrap of fear in her nature. +She entered the forest by the long straight avenue; and Surefoot, +delighted to feel his feet on the smooth, velvety sward, trotted along +gayly. + +"Now I am free!" said the girl. "How delightful it is to ride all by +myself. I will go a long, long way this beautiful evening." + +It was a perfect summer's evening, and Rachel was riding through scenery +of exquisite beauty. Birds sang blithely to her as she flew lightly over +the ground; squirrels looked down at her from among the branches of the +forest oaks; many wild flowers smiled up at her, and all nature seemed +to sympathize with her gay youth and beauty. + +She was a romantic, impulsive child, and lived more or less in a world +of her own imaginings. + +The forest was the happiest home in the world to Rachel; Avonsyde was +well enough, but no place was like the forest itself. She had a strong +impression that it was still peopled by fairies. She devoured all the +legends that Mrs. Newbolt, her aunt's maid, and John Eyre, one of the +agisters of the forest, could impart to her. Both these good people had +a lurking belief in ghosts and fairies. Eyre swore that he had many and +many a time seen the treacherous little Jack-o'-lanterns. He told +horrible stories of strangers who were lured into bogs by these +deceitful little sprites. But Mrs. Newbolt had a far more wonderful and +exciting tale to tell than this; for she spoke of a lady who, all in +green, flitted through the forest--a lady with a form of almost spiritual +etherealness, and with such a lovely face that those who were fortunate +enough to see her ever after retained on their own countenances a faint +reflection of her rare beauty. Rachel had heard of this forest lady +almost from the first moment of her residence at Avonsyde. She built +many brilliant castles in the air about her, and she and Kitty most +earnestly desired to see her. Of course they had never yet done so, but +their belief in her was not a whit diminished, and they never went into +the forest without having a dim kind of hope that they might behold the +lady. + +Newbolt said that she appeared to very few, but she admitted that on one +or two occasions of great and special moment she had revealed herself to +some fair dames of the house of Lovel. She never appeared to two people +together, and in consequence Rachel always longed to go into the forest +alone. She felt excited to-night, and she said to herself more than +once, "I wonder if I shall see her. She comes on great occasions; surely +this must be a great occasion if the long-looked-for heir has come to +Avonsyde. I do wonder if that little boy is the heir!" + +Rachel rode on, quite forgetful of time; the rapid motion and the lovely +evening raised her always versatile spirits. Her cheeks glowed; her dark +eyes shone; she tossed back her rebellious curly locks and laughed aloud +once or twice out of pure happiness. + +She intended to go a long way, to penetrate further into the shades of +the wonderful forest than she had ever done yet; but even she was +unconscious how very far she was riding. + +It is easy to lose one's way in the New Forest, and Rachel, accustomed +as she was to all that part which immediately surrounded Avonsyde, +presently found herself in a new country. She had left Rufus' Stone far +behind and was now riding down a gentle descent, when something induced +the adventurous little lady to consult her watch. The hour pointed to +six o'clock. It would be light for a long time yet, for it was quite the +middle of summer, and Rachel reflected that as tea-time was past, and as +she would certainly be well scolded when she returned, she might as well +stay out a little longer. + +"'In for a penny, in for a pound!'" she said. "The aunties will be so +angry with me, but I don't care; I mean to enjoy myself to-night. Oh, +what a tempting green bank, and what a carpet of bluebells just there to +the right! I must get some. Surefoot shall have a rest and a nibble at +some of the grass, and I'll pick the flowers and sit on the bank for a +little time." + +Surefoot was very well pleased with this arrangement. He instantly, with +unerring instinct, selected the juiciest and most succulent herbage +which the place afforded, and was happy after his fashion. Rachel picked +bluebells until she had her hands full; then seating herself, she began +to arrange them. She had found a small clearing in the forest, and her +seat was on the twisted and gnarled roots of a giant oak tree. Her feet +were resting on a thick carpet of moss; immediately before her lay +broken and undulating ground, clothed with the greenest grass, with the +most perfect fronds of moss, and bestrewn with tiny silvery stems and +bits of branches from the neighboring trees. A little further off was a +great foreground of bracken, which completely clothed a very gentle +ascent, and then the whole horizon was bounded by a semicircle of +magnificent birch, oak, and beech. Some cows were feeding in the +distance--they wore bells, which tinkled merrily; the doves cooed and the +birds sang; the softest of zephyrs played among the trees; the evening +sun flickered slant-wise through the branches and lay in brightness on +the greensward; and Rachel, who was intensely sensitive to nature, +clasped her hands in ecstasy. + +"Oh, it is good of God to make such a beautiful world!" she said, +speaking aloud in her enthusiasm; but just then something riveted +Rachel's attention. She sprang to her feet, forgot her bluebells, which +fell in a shower around her, and in this fresh interest became utterly +oblivious to the loveliness of the scene. A lady in a plain dark dress +was walking slowly, very slowly, between the trees. She was coming +toward Rachel, but evidently had not seen her, for her eyes were fixed +on the pages of an open book, and as she read her lips moved, as though +she were learning something to repeat aloud. This part of the forest was +so remote and solitary for it was miles away from any gentleman's seat, +that Rachel for a moment was startled. + +"Who can she be?" was her first exclamation; her second was a delighted-- + +"Oh, perhaps she is the lady of the forest!" + +Then she exclaimed with vexation: + +"No, no, she cannot be. The lady always wears green and is almost +transparent, and her face is so lovely. This lady is in dark clothes and +she is reading and murmuring words to herself. She looks exactly as if +she were learning a stupid lesson to say aloud. Oh, I am disappointed! I +had such a hope she might be the lady of the forest. I wonder where she +can live; there's no house near this. Oh, dear! oh, dear! she is coming +this way; she will pass me. Shall I speak to her? I almost think I will. +She seems to have a nice face, although she is not very young and she is +not very beautiful." + +The lady walked slowly on, her eyes still bent on her book, and so it +happened that she never saw the radiant figure of pretty little Rachel +until she was opposite to her. Her quiet, darkly fringed gray eyes were +lifted then and surveyed the child first with astonishment; then with +curiosity; then with very palpable agitation, wonder, and distress. + +Rachel came a step nearer and was about to open her lips, when the lady +abruptly closed her book, as abruptly turned on her heel, and walked +rapidly, very rapidly, in the opposite direction away from the child. + +"Oh, stop!" cried Rachel. "I want to speak to you. Who are you? It's +very interesting meeting you here in the very midst of the forest! +Please don't walk away so fast! Do tell me who you are! There, you are +almost running, and I can't keep up with you! What a rude forest lady +you are! Well, I never knew any one so rude before!" + +The lady had indeed quickened her steps, and before Rachel could reach +her she had disappeared through a small green-covered porch into a tiny +house, so clothed with innumerable creepers that at a distance it could +scarcely be distinguished from the forest itself. Rachel stood panting +and indignant outside the door. She had forgotten Surefoot; she had +forgotten everything in the world but this rude lady who would not speak +to her. + +Rachel was a very passionate child, and in her first indignation she +felt inclined to pull the bell and insist upon seeing and conversing +with the strange, silent lady. Before she could carry this idea into +execution the door was opened and a neatly dressed elderly servant came +out. + +"Well, little miss, and what is your pleasure?" she said. + +"I want to see the lady," said Rachel; "she is a very rude lady. I asked +her some civil questions and she would not answer." + +The old servant laid her hand on Rachel's arm and drew her a few steps +away from the bowerlike house. + +"What is your name, little miss?" she said. + +"My name? Rachel Lovel, of course. Don't you know? Everybody knows me in +the forest. I'm Rachel Lovel of Avonsyde, and my pony's name is +Surefoot, and I have a sister called Kitty." + +"Well, missy," continued the old woman, "I have no reason at all to +misdoubt your tale, but the forest is a big place, and even the grandest +little ladies are not known when they stray too far from home. I have no +doubt, missy, that you are Miss Lovel, and I have no doubt also that you +have a kind heart, although you have a hasty tongue. Now, you know, it +was very rude of you to run after my lady when she didn't want to speak +to you. My lady was much upset by your following her, and you have done +great mischief by just being such a curious little body." + +"Mischief, have I?" said Rachel; then she laughed. "But that is quite +impossible," she added, "for I never even touched the rude lady." + +"You may do mischief, Miss Lovel, by many means, and curiosity is one of +the most spiteful of the vices. It's my opinion that more mischief can +be laid to curiosity's door than to any other door. From Eve down it was +curiosity did the sin. Now, missy, my lady is lonely and unhappy, and +she don't want no one to know--no one in all the wide world--that she +lives in this little wild forest house; and if you tell, if you ever +tell that you have seen her, or that you know where she lives, why, you +will break the heart of the sweetest and gentlest lady that ever lived." + +"I don't want to break any one's heart," said Rachel, turning pale. +"What very queer things you say. I don't want to break any one's heart. +I think I'll go home now." + +"Not until you have promised me first, Miss Lovel--not until you have +promised me true and faithful." + +"Oh, I'll only tell Kitty and my aunties. I never care to talk to +strangers about things. There's a new little boy come to Avonsyde--a new +little boy and his mother. Of course I won't say anything to either of +them, but I never keep secrets from Kitty--never!" + +"Very well, miss; then my lady will have to go away. She is very tired +and not strong, and she has just settled down in this little house, +where she wants to rest and to be near--to be in the forest; and if you +tell those aunts of yours and your little sister--if you tell anybody in +all the wide world--she will have to go away again. We must pack up to +night and we will be off in the morning. We'll have to wander once more, +and she'll be sad and ill and lonely; but of course you won't care." + +"What a cruel old woman you are!" said Rachel. "Of course I don't want +anybody to be sad and lonely. I don't want to injure the forest lady, +although I cannot make out why she should have to live so secret here. +Is she a wicked lady and has she committed a crime?" + +"Wicked?" said the old woman, her eyes flashing. "Ah, missy, that such +words should drop from your lips, and about her! Are the angels in +heaven wicked? Oh, my dear, good, brave lady! No, missy. She has to keep +her secret, but it is because of a cruel sin and injustice done to her, +not because of any wrong done by her. Well, good-night, miss. I'll say +no more. We must be off, we two, in the morning." + +"No, don't go!" called out Rachel. "Of course I won't tell. If she's +such a dear, good lady, I'll respect her and love her and keep her +secret; only I should like to see her and to know her name." + +"All in good time, my dear little missy. Thank God, you will be faithful +to this good and wronged lady." + +"Yes, I'll be very faithful," said Rachel. "Not even to Kitty will I +breathe one word. And now I must really go home." + +"God bless you, dear little miss--eh, but you're a bonny child. And is +the one you call Kitty as fair to look at?" + +"As fair to look at?" laughed Rachel. "Why, I'm as brown as a nut and +Kitty is dazzling. Kitty is pink and white, and if you only saw her +hair! It's like threads of gold." + +"And the little gentleman, dear?--you spoke of a little gentleman as +well. Is he your brother, love?" + +"My brother?" laughed Rachel. "I have no one but Kitty. I have a mother +living somewhere--she's lost, my mother is, and I'm going all round the +world to look for her when I'm old enough; but I have no brother--I wish +I had. Philip Lovel is a little new, strange boy who is going to be heir +of Avonsyde. He came to-day with his mother. I don't much like his +mother. Now good-night, old woman. I'll keep the good lady's secret most +faithfully." + +Rachel blew a kiss to the anxious-looking old servant, then ran gayly +back to where she had left Surefoot. In the excitement of the last +half-hour she had quite forgotten her withered bluebells. Mounting her +pony, she galloped as fast as she could in the direction of Avonsyde. It +was very late when she got back, but, strange to say, the old aunts were +so much interested in Mrs. Lovel and in Mrs. Lovel's boy that they +forgot to scold her or to remark her absence. She longed intensely to +tell Kitty all about the thrilling and romantic adventure she had just +gone through, but she was a loyal child, and having once passed her +word, nothing would induce her to break it. Kitty, too, was taken up +with Philip Lovel, and Rachel, finding she was not wanted, ran up to her +bedroom and lost herself in the charms of a fairy tale. + + + + +CHAPTER VI.--THE TOWER BEDROOM. + + +Avonsyde was a very old property. The fair lands had been bestowed by +William Rufus on a certain Rupert Lovel who was fortunate enough to earn +the gratitude of this most tyrannical and capricious of monarchs. Rupert +Lovel had laid the first stone of the present house and had lived there +until his death. He was succeeded by many wild and lawless descendants. +As time went on they added to the old house, and gained, whether wrongly +or rightly no one could say, more of the forest lands as their own. +Avonsyde was a large property in the olden days, and the old squires +ruled those under them by what was considered at that period the only +safe and wholesome rule--that of terror. They were a proud, +self-confident, headstrong race, very sure of one thing--that whatever +happened Avonsyde would never cease to be theirs. An old prophecy was +handed down from father to son to this effect. It had been put into a +couplet by a rhymer as great in his way as Thomas of border celebrity: + + "Tyde what may betyde, Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde." + +These words were taken as the motto of the house, and could be +deciphered in very quaint lettering just over the arch which supported a +certain portion of the tower. The tower was almost if not quite seven +hundred years old, and was another source of great pride and interest to +the family. + +Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine could not have done little Philip Lovel +a greater honor than when they arranged the tower bedroom for his +reception. In their opinion, and in the opinion of every retainer of the +family, they indeed showed respect to the child and the child's claim +when they got this gloomy apartment into order for him and his mother; +but when Mrs. Lovel, a timid and nervous woman, saw the room, she +scarcely appreciated the honor conferred upon her and hers. + +Avonsyde was a house which represented many periods; each addition was a +little more comfortable than its predecessor. For instance, the new +wing, with the beautiful drawing-rooms and spacious library, was all +that was luxurious; the cozy bedrooms where Rachel and Kitty slept, with +their thick walls and mullioned windows and deep old-fashioned +cupboards, were both cheerful and convenient; but in the days when the +tower was built ladies did without many things which are now considered +essential, and Mrs. Lovel had to confess to herself that she did not +like her room. In the first place, the tower rooms were completely +isolated from the rest of the house; they were entered by a door at one +side of the broad hall; this door was of oak of immense thickness, and +when it was shut no sound from the tower could possibly penetrate to the +rest of the house. At the other side of the oak door was a winding stone +staircase, very much worn and hollowed out by the steps of many +generations. The stairs wound up and up in the fashion of a corkscrew; +they had no rail and were very steep, and the person who ascended, if at +all timid, was very glad to lay hold of a slack rope which was loosely +run through iron rings at intervals in the wall. + +After a great many of these steps had been climbed a very narrow stone +landing was discovered; three or four steps had then to be gone down, +and Mrs. Lovel found herself in an octagon-shaped room with a very low +ceiling and very narrow windows. The furniture was not only +old-fashioned, but shabby; the room was small; the bed was that +monstrosity, a four-poster; the curtains of velvet were black and rusty +with age and wear. In short, the one and only cheerful object which poor +Mrs. Lovel found in the apartment was the little white bed in one corner +which had been prepared for Philip's reception. + +"Dear, dear, what remarkably steep stairs; and what a small--I mean not a +very large room! Are all the bedrooms of Avonsyde as small as this?" she +continued, interrogating Newbolt, who, starched and prim, but with a +comely fresh face, stood beside her. + +"This is the tower bedroom, mem," answered the servant in a thin voice. +"The heir has always slept in this room, and the ladies has the two +over. That has always been the fashion at Avonsyde--the heir has this +room and the reigning ladies sleep overhead. This room is seven hundred +years old, mem." + +Mrs. Lovel shivered. + +"Very antiquated and interesting," she began, "but isn't it just a +little cold and just a little gloomy? I thought the other part of the +house so much more cheerful." + +Newbolt raised her eyebrows and gazed at Mrs. Lovel as if she were +talking the rankest heresy. + +"For them as don't value the antique there's rooms spacious and cheerful +and abundantly furnished with modern vanities in the new part of the +house," she replied. "Miss Rachel and Miss Kitty, for instance; their +bedroom isn't built more than three hundred years--a big room enough and +with a lot of sunlight, but terrible modern, and not to be made no +'count of at Avonsyde; and then there are two new bedrooms over the +drawing-rooms, where we put strangers. Very large they are and quite +flooded with sunlight; but of course for antiquity there are no rooms to +be compared with this one and the two where the ladies sleep. I am sorry +the room don't take your fancy, mem. I suppose, not being of the blood +of the family, you can't appreciate it. Shall I speak to the ladies on +the subject?" + +"Oh! by no means, my good creature," replied poor Mrs. Lovel in alarm. +"The room of course is most interesting and wonderfully antiquated. I've +never seen such a room. And do your ladies really sleep higher up than +this? They must have wonderfully strong hearts to be able to mount any +more of those steep--I mean curious stairs." + +Newbolt did not deign to make any comment with regard to the sound +condition of Miss Griselda's and Miss Katharine's physical hearts. She +favored the new-comer with a not-too-appreciative glance, and having +arranged matters as comfortably as she could for her in the dismal +chamber, left her to the peace and the solitude of a most solitary room. + +The poor lady quite trembled when she found herself alone; the knowledge +that the room was so old filled her with a kind of mysterious awe. After +her experiences in the New World, she even considered the drawing-rooms +at Avonsyde by no means to be despised on the score of youth. Those +juvenile bedrooms of two hundred or three hundred years' standing where +Rachel and Kitty reposed were, in Mrs. Level's opinion, hoary and +weighted with age; but as to this tower-room, surely such an apartment +should only be visited at noon on a sunny day and in the company of a +large party! + +"I'm glad the old ladies do sleep overhead," she said to herself. "What +truly awful attics theirs must be! I never saw such a terribly +depressing room as this. I'm certain it is haunted; I'm convinced there +must be a ghost here. If Philip were not sleeping here I should +certainly die. Oh, dear! what a risk I am running for the sake of +Philip. Much of this life would kill me! I find, too, that I am not very +good at keeping in my feelings, and I'll have to act--act all the time I +am here, and pretend I'm just in raptures with everything, when I am +not. That dreadful Newbolt saw through me about this room. Oh, dear! I +am a bad actor. Well, at any rate I am a good mother to Philip; it's a +splendid chance for Philip. But if he speaks about that pain in his side +we are lost! Poor Phil! these steep stairs are extremely bad for him." + +There was plenty of daylight at present, and Mrs. Lovel could move about +her ancient chamber without any undue fear of being overtaken by the +terrors of the night. She took off her traveling bonnet and mantle, +arranged her hair afresh before a mirror which caused her to squint and +distorted every feature, and finally, being quite certain that she could +never lie down and rest alone on that bed, was about to descend the +stone stairs and to return to the more cheerful part of the house, when +gay, quick footsteps, accompanied by childish laughter, were heard +ascending, and Philip, accompanied by Kitty, bounded without any +ceremony into the apartment. + +"Oh, mother, things are so delightful here," began the little boy, "and +Kitty fishes nearly as well as Rupert. And Kitty has got a pony and I'm +to have one; Aunt Grizel says so--one of the forest ponies, mother. Do +you know that the forest is full of ponies? and they are so rough and +jolly. And there are squirrels in the forest--hundreds of squirrels--and +all kinds of birds, and beetles and spiders, and ants and lizards! +Mother, the forest is such a lovely place! Is this our bedroom, mother? +What a jolly room! I say, wouldn't Rupert like it just?" + +"If you're quick, Phil," began Kitty--"if you're very quick washing your +hands and brushing your hair, we can go back through the armory--that's +the next oldest part to the tower. I steal into the armory sometimes in +the dusk, for I do so hope some of the chain-armor will rattle. Do you +believe in ghosts, Phil? I do and so does Rachel." + +"No, I'm not such a silly," replied Phil. "Mother, dear, how white you +are! Don't you like our jolly, jolly bedroom? Oh! I do, and wouldn't +Rupert love to be here?" + +Mrs. Lovel's face had grown whiter and whiter. + +"Phil," she said, "I must speak to you alone. Kitty, your little cousin +will meet you downstairs presently. Oh, Phil, my dear," continued the +poor lady when Kitty had succeeded in banging herself noisily and +unwillingly out of the room--"Phil, why, why will you spoil everything?" + +"Spoil everything, mother?" + +"Yes; you have spoken of Rupert--you have spoken twice of Rupert. Oh, we +had better go away again at once!" + +"Dear Rupert!" said little Phil, with a sigh; "darling, brave Rupert! +Mother, how I wish he was here!" + +"You will spoil everything," repeated the poor lady, wringing her hands +in despair. "You know what Rupert is--so strong and manly and beautiful +as a picture; and you know what the will says--that the strong one, +whether he be eldest or youngest, shall be heir. Oh, Phil, if those old +ladies know about Rupert we are lost!" + +Phil had a most comical little face; a plain face decidedly--pale, with +freckles, and a slightly upturned nose. To those who knew it well it had +many charms. It was without doubt an expressive and speaking face; in +the course of a few minutes it could look sad to pathos, or so brimful +of mirth that to glance at it was to feel gay. The sad look now filled +the beautiful brown eyes; the little mouth drooped; the boy went up and +laid his head on his mother's shoulder. + +"Do you know," he said, "I must say it, even though it hurts you. I want +Rupert to have everything. I love Rupert very dearly, and I think it +would be splendid for him to come here, and to own a lot of the wild +ponies, and to fish in that funny little river which Kitty calls the +Avon. Rupert would let me live with him perhaps, and maybe he'd give me +a pony, and I could find squirrels and spiders and ants in the +forest--oh! and caterpillars; I expect there are splendid specimens of +caterpillars here. Mother, when my heart is full of Rupert how can I +help speaking about him?" + +Mrs. Lovel pressed her hand to her brow in a bewildered manner. + +"We must go away then, Philip," she said. "As you love Rupert so well, +better even than your mother, we must go away. It was a pity you did not +tell me something of this before now, for I have broken into my +last--yes, my very last L20 to come here. We have not enough money to +take us back to Australia and to Rupert; still, we must go away, for the +old ladies will look upon us as impostors, and I could not bear that for +anything in the world." + +"It is not only Rupert," continued Phil; "it's Gabrielle and Peggy; +and--and--mother, I can't help being fond of them; but, mother, I love you +best!" + +"Do you really, Phil? Better than that boy? I never could see anything +in him. Do you love me better than Rupert, Phil?" + +"Yes, of course; you are my mother, and when father died he said I was +always to love you and to do what you wanted. If you want Avonsyde, I +suppose you must have it some day when the old ladies die. I'll do my +best not to talk about Rupert, and I'll try to seem very strong, and +I'll never, never tell about the pain in my side. Give me a kiss, +mother. You shan't starve nor be unhappy. Oh! what an age we have been +chattering here, and Kitty is waiting for me, and I do so want to see +the armory! I wonder if there are ghosts there? It sounds silly to +believe in them; but Kitty does, and she's a dear little girl, nearly as +nice as Gabrielle. Good-by, mother; I'm off. I'll try to remember." + + + + +CHAPTER VII.--"BETYDE WHAT MAY." + + +In a handsomely furnished dining-room in a spacious and modern-looking +house about three miles outside the city of Melbourne, three +children--two girls and a boy--were standing impatiently by a wide-open +window. + +"Gabrielle," said the boy, "have you any idea when the mails from +England are due?" + +The boy was the taller of the three, splendidly made, with square +shoulders, great breadth of chest, and head so set on the same shoulders +that it gave to its young owner an almost regal appearance. The bright +and bold dark eyes were full of fire; the expressive lines round the +finely cut lips were both kindly and noble. + +"Gabrielle, is that Carlo riding past on Jo-jo? If it is, perhaps he is +bringing our letter-bag. Father has gone to Melbourne to-day; but he +said if there were English letters he would send them out by Carlo." + +"You are so impatient about England and English things, Rupert," said +little Peggy, raising a face framed in by soft flaxen hair to her big +brother. "Oh, yes, I'll run to meet Carlo, for of course you want me to, +and I'll come back again if there's any news; and if there is not, why, +I'll stay and play with my ravens, Elijah and James Grasper. Elijah is +beginning to speak so well and James Grasper is improving. If Carlo has +no letters you need not expect me back, either of you." + +The little maid stepped quickly out of the open window, and ran fleet as +the wind across a beautifully kept lawn and in the direction where a +horse's quick steps were heard approaching. + +Gabrielle was nearly as tall as her brother, with a stately bearing and +a grave face. + +"If father does decide on taking you to Europe, Rupert, I wish to say +now that I am quite willing to stay here with Peggy. I don't want to go +to school at Melbourne. I would rather stay on here and housekeep, and +keep things nice the way our mother would have liked. If Peggy and I go +away, Belmont will have to be shut up and a great many of the servants +dismissed, and that would be silly. I am thirteen now, and I think I am +wise for my age. You will speak to father, won't you, Rupert, and ask +him to allow me to be mistress here while you are away." + +"If we are away," corrected Rupert. "Ah! here comes Peggy, and the +letter-bag, and doubtless a letter. What a good child you are, Peggy +White!" + +Peggy dashed the letter-bag with some force through the open window. +Rupert caught it lightly in one hand, and detaching a small key from his +watch-chain opened it. It only contained one letter, and this was +directed to himself: + + "Mr. Rupert Lovel, + "Belmont, + "Near Melbourne, + "Victoria, + "Australia." + +"A letter from England!" said Rupert. "And oh! Gabrielle, what do you +think? It is--yes, it is from our little Cousin Philip!" + +"Let me see," said Gabrielle, peeping over her brother's shoulder. +"Poor, dear little Phil! Read aloud what he says, Rupert. I have often +thought of him lately." + +Rupert smiled, sat down on the broad window-ledge, and his sister, +kneeling behind him, laid her hand affectionately on his shoulder. A +little letter, written with considerable pains and difficulty, with +rather shaky and blotted little fingers, and quite uncorrected, just, in +short, as nature had prompted it to a small, eager, and affectionate +mind, was then read aloud: + + "Dear Cousin Rupert: You must please forgive the spelling and the bad + writing, and the blots (oh! I made a big one now, but I have sopped it + up). This letter is quite secret, so it won't be corrected, for mother + doesn't know that I am writing. Mother and I are in England, but she + says I am not to tell you where we are. It isn't that mother isn't + fond of you, but she has a reason, which is a great secret, for your + not knowing where we are. The reason has something to do with me. It's + something that I'm to have that I don't want and that I'd much rather + you had. It's a beautiful thing, with spiders, and rivers, and + caterpillars, and wild ponies, and ghosts, and rattling armor, and a + tower of winding stairs. Oh! I mustn't tell you any more, for perhaps + you'd guess. You are never to have it, although I'd like you to. We + are not very far from the sea, and we're going there to-morrow, and it + is there I'll post this letter. Now, I am quite determined that you + and Gabrielle and Peggy shall know that I think of you always. Mother + and me, we are in a beautiful, grand place now--very grand--and most + enormous old; and I have two little girls to play with, and I have got + a pony, and a white pup, and I am taught by a tutor, and drilled by a + drill-sergeant, and I fish and play cricket with Kitty, only I can't + play cricket much, because of my side; but, Rupert, I want to say + here, and I want you and Peggy and Gabrielle always and always to + remember, that I'd rather be living with mother in our little cottage + near Belmont, with only Betty as servant and with only Jim to clean + the boots and do the garden, for then I should be near you; and I love + you, Rupert, and Gabrielle, and Peggy, better than any one in the + world except my mother. Please tell Peggy that I don't think much of + the English spiders, but some of the caterpillars are nice; and please + tell Gabrielle that the English flowers smell very sweet, but they are + not so bright or so big as ours, and the birds sing, oh! so beautiful, + but they haven't got such gay dresses. Good-by, Rupert. Do you shoot + much? And do you ever think of me? And are you good to my little dog + Cato? + + "Phil Lovel. + + "P. S.--Please, I'd like to hear from you, and as mother says you are + not on no account to know where we are, will you write me a letter to + the post-office at the town where this is posted? You will see the + name of the town on the envelope, and please direct your letter: + + 'Master Phil Lovel, + 'Post-office. + 'To be called for.' + + "Be sure you put 'to be called for' in big letters. + + "Good-by again. Love to everybody. + + Phil." + +Gabrielle and Rupert read this very characteristic little epistle +without comment. When they had finished it, Rupert slipped it back into +its envelope and gave it to his sister. + +"We must both write to the poor little chap," he said. "The postmark on +the envelope is Southampton. I suppose Southampton, England, will find +him." Then he added after a pause: "I wonder what queer thing Aunt Bella +is thinking about now?" + +"She always was the silliest person in the world," said Gabrielle in a +tone of strong contempt. "If she were my mother I shouldn't love her. I +wonder how Phil loves her. Poor little Phil! He always was a dear little +fellow--not a bit like Aunt Bella, thank goodness!" + +Rupert laughed. + +"Why, Gabrielle," he said, "you can have no observation; Phil is the +image of his mother. There is nothing at all belonging to his father +about Phil except his eyes." + +"And his nature," proceeded Gabrielle, "and his dear, brave little soul. +I am sure if trial came to him Phil could be a hero. What matter that he +has got Aunt Bella's uninteresting features? He has nothing more of her +in him. Oh, she always was a silly, mysterious person! Just think of her +not allowing Phil to tell us where he is!" + +"My father says that there is method in Aunt Bella's silliness," +continued Rupert. "Don't you remember how suddenly she sold her little +house at the back of our garden, Gabrielle, and how Betty found her +burning an English newspaper; and how queer and nervous and flurried she +became all of a sudden; and then how she asked father to give her that +L200 he had of hers in the bank; and how she hurried off without saying +good-by to one of us? We have not heard a word about her from that day +until now, when Phil's little letter has come." + +"She never even bid mother good-by," continued Gabrielle in a pained +voice. "Mother always stood up for Aunt Bella. She never allowed us to +laugh at her or to grumble at her funny, tiresome ways." + +"Did mother allow us to laugh at any one?" continued Rupert. "There was +nothing at all remarkable in our mother being kind to poor Aunt Bella, +for she was good to every one." + +"But there was something strange in Aunt Bella not bidding our mother +good-by," pursued Gabrielle, "for I think she was a little fond of +mother, and mother was so weak and ill at the time. I saw tears in Aunt +Bella's eyes once after mother had been talking to her. Yes, her going +away was certainly very queer; but I have no time to talk any more about +it now. I must go to my work. Rupert, shall we ride this afternoon? This +is just the most perfect weather for riding before the great summer heat +commences." + +"Yes, we'll be in summer before we know where we are," said Rupert; "it +is the 4th of November to-day. I will ride with you at three o'clock, +Gabrielle--that is, if father is not back." + +The brother and sister left the room to pursue their different +vocations, and a short time afterward an old servant, with a closely +frilled cap tied with a ribbon under her chin, came into the room. She +was the identical Betty who had been Mrs. Lovel's maid-of-all-work, and +who had now transferred her services to the young people at Belmont. +Betty was old, wrinkled, and of Irish birth, and sincerely attached to +all the Lovels. She came into the room under the pretext of looking for +some needlework which Gabrielle had mislaid, but her real object was to +peer into the now open post-bag, and then to look suspiciously round the +room. + +"I smell it in the air," she said, sniffing as she spoke. "As sure as +I'm Betty O'Flanigan there's news of Master Phil in the air! Was there a +letter? Oh, glory! to think as there might be a letter from my own +little master, and me not to know. Miss Gabrielle's mighty close, and no +mistake. Well, I'll go and ask her bold outright if she has bad news of +the darlint." + +Betty could not find Gabrielle's lost embroidery, and perceiving that +the post-bag was absolutely empty, she pottered out of the room again +and upstairs to where her young lady was making up some accounts in a +pretty little boudoir which had belonged to her mother. + +"Och, and never a bit of it can I see, Miss Gabrielle," said the old +woman as she advanced into the room; and then she began sniffing the air +again. + +"What are you making that funny noise for, Betty?" said Miss Lovel, +raising her eyes from a long column of figures. + +"I smell it in the air," said Betty, sniffing in an oracular manner. "I +dreamed of him three times last night, and that means tidings; and now I +smell it in the air." + +"Oh! you dreamed of little Phil," said Gabrielle in a kind tone. "Yes, +we have just had a letter. Sit down there and I'll read it to you." + +Betty squatted down instantly on the nearest hassock, and with her hands +under her apron and her mouth wide open prepared herself not to lose a +word. + +Gabrielle read the letter from end to end, the old woman now and then +interrupting her with such exclamations as "Oh, glory! May the saints +presarve him! Well, listen to the likes of that!" + +At last Gabrielle's voice ceased; then Betty hobbled to her feet, and +suddenly seizing the childish letter, not a word of which she could +read, pressed it to her lips. + +"Ah! Miss Gabrielle," she said, "that mother of his meant mischief. She +meant mischief to you and yours, miss, and the sweet child has neither +part nor lot in the matter. If I was you, Miss Gabrielle, I'd ferret out +where Mrs. Lovel is hiding Master Phil. What business had she to get +into such a way about a bit of an English newspaper, and to hurry off +with the child all in a twinkling like, and to be that flustered and +nervous? And oh! Miss Gabrielle, the fuss about her clothes; and 'did +she look genteel in this?' and 'did she look quite the lady in that?' +And then the way she went off, bidding good-by to no one but me. Oh! +she's after no good; mark my words for it." + +"But she can do us no harm, Betty," said Gabrielle. "Neither my father +nor Rupert is likely to be injured by a weak kind of woman like Aunt +Bella. I am sorry for little Phil; but I think you are silly to talk as +you do of Aunt Bella. Now you may take the letter away with you and kiss +it and love it as much as you like. Here comes father; he is back +earlier than usual from Melbourne, and I must speak to him." + +Mr. Lovel, a tall, fine-looking man, with a strong likeness to both his +son and daughter, now came hastily into the room. + +"I have indeed come back in a hurry, Gabrielle," he said. "That +advertisement has appeared in the papers again. I have had a long talk +with our business friend, Mr. Davis, and the upshot of it is that Rupert +and I sail for Europe on Saturday. This is Tuesday; so you will have +your hands pretty full in making preparations for such a sudden move, my +dear daughter." + +"Is it the advertisement that appeared six months ago, father?" said +Gabrielle in an excited voice. "Mother pointed it out to you then and +you would take no notice of it." + +"These things are often put into newspapers simply as a kind of hoax, +child," said the father, "and it all seemed so unlikely. However, +although I appeared to take no notice, I was not unmindful of Rupert's +interests. I went to consult with Davis, and Davis promised to make +inquiries in England. He came to me this morning with the result of his +investigations and with this advertisement in the Melbourne Times. Here +it is; it is three months old, unfortunately. It appeared three months +after the first advertisement, but Davis did not trouble me with it +until he had got news from England. The news came this morning. It is of +a satisfactory character and to the effect that the last Valentine +Lovel, of Avonsyde, in the New Forest, Hampshire, died without leaving +any male issue, and the present owners of the property are two unmarried +ladies, neither of whom is young. Now, Gabrielle, you are a wise lass +for your thirteen years, and as I have not your mother to consult with, +I am willing to rely a little bit on your judgment. You read this, my +daughter, and tell me what you make of it." + +As Mr. Lovel spoke he unfolded a sheet of the Melbourne Times, and +pointing to a small paragraph in one of the advertisement columns which +was strongly underscored with a blue pencil, he handed it to Gabrielle. + +"Read it aloud," he said. "They are strange words, but I should like to +hear them again." + +Gabrielle, in her clear and bright voice, read as follows: + + "Lovel.--If any of the lineal descendants of Rupert Lovel, of Avonsyde, + New Forest, Hampshire, who left his home on the 20th August, 1684, are + now alive and will communicate with Messrs. Baring & Baring, 128 + Chancery Lane, London, they will hear of something to their advantage. + Only heirs male in direct succession need apply." + +Gabrielle paused. + +"Read on," said her father. "The second part of the advertisement, or +rather a second advertisement which immediately follows the first, is of +more interest." + +Gabrielle continued: + + "I, Griselda Lovel, and I, Katharine Lovel, of Avonsyde, New Forest, + of the county of Hampshire, England, do, according to our late + father's will, earnestly seek an heir of the issue of one Rupert + Lovel, who left Avonsyde on the 20th August, 1684, in consequence of a + quarrel between himself and his father, the then owner of Avonsyde. By + reason of this quarrel Rupert Lovel was disinherited, and the property + has continued until now in the younger branch. According to our late + father's will, we, Griselda and Katharine Lovel, wish to reestablish + the elder branch of the family, and offer to make a direct descendant + of the said Rupert Lovel our heir, provided the said descendant be + under fifteen years of age and of sound physical health. We refuse to + receive letters or to see any claimant personally, but request to have + all communications made to us through our solicitors, Messrs. Baring & + Baring, of 128 Chancery Lane, London, E. C. + + "'Tyde what may betyde, + Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde." + +Gabrielle's cheeks flushed brightly as she read. + +"Oh, father!" she exclaimed, raising her eyes to the face of the tall +man who stood near her, "do you really believe a little bit in it at +last? Don't you remember how I used to pray of you to tell me traditions +of the old English home when I was a little child, and how often you +have repeated that old rhyme to me, and don't you know how mother used +to treasure the tankard with the family crest and 'Tyde what may' in +those queer, quaint English characters on it? Mother was quite excited +when the first advertisement appeared, but you said we were not to talk +or to think of it. Rupert is the rightful heir--is he not, father? Oh, +how proud I shall be to think that the old place is to belong to him!" + +"I believe he is the rightful heir, Gabrielle," said her father in a +grave voice. "He is undoubtedly a lineal descendant of the Rupert Lovel +who left Avonsyde in 1684, and he also fulfills the conditions of the +old ladies' advertisement, for he is under fifteen and splendidly +strong; but it is also a fact that I cannot find some very important +letters which absolutely prove Rupert's claim. I could swear that I left +them in the old secretary in your mother's room, but they have vanished. +Davis, on the other hand, believes that I have given them to him, and +will have a strict search instituted for them. The loss of the papers +makes a flaw in my boy's claim; but I shall not delay to go to England +on that account. Davis will mail them to me as soon as ever they are +recovered; and in the mean time, Gabrielle, I will ask you to pack up +the old tankard and give it to me to take to England. There is no doubt +whatever that that tankard is the identical one which my forefather took +with him when almost empty-handed he left Avonsyde." + +"I will fetch it at once," said Gabrielle. "Mother kept it in the +cupboard at the back of her bed. She always kept the tankard and our +baptismal mugs and the diamonds you gave her when first you were married +in that cupboard. I will fetch the tankard and have it cleaned, and I +will pack it for you myself." + +Gabrielle ran out of the room, returning in a few moments with a +slightly battered old drinking-cup, much tarnished and of antique +pattern. + +"Here it is!" she exclaimed, "and Betty shall clean it. Is that you, +Betty? Will you take this cup and polish it for me at once yourself? I +have great news to give you when you come back." + +Betty took the cup and turned it round and round with a dubious air. + +"It isn't worth much," she said; "but I'll clean it anyhow." + +"Be careful of it, Betty," called out Gabrielle. "Whatever you may think +of it, you tiresome old woman, it is of great value to us, and +particularly to your favorite, Rupert." + +Muttering to herself, Betty hobbled downstairs, and Gabrielle and her +father continued their conversation. In about half an hour the old woman +returned and presented the cup, burnished now to great brilliancy, to +her young mistress. + +"I said it wasn't worth much," she repeated. "I misdoubt me if it's +silver at all." + +Gabrielle turned it round in her hand; then she uttered a dismayed +exclamation. + +"Father, do look! The crest is gone; the crest and the old motto, +'Betyde what may,' have absolutely vanished. It is the same cup; yes, +certainly it is the same, but where is the crest? and where is the +motto?" + +Mr. Lovel took the old tankard into his hand and examined it narrowly. + +"It is not the same," he said then. "The shape is almost identical, but +this is not my forefather's tankard. I believe Betty is right, and this +is not even silver; here is no crown mark. No letters, Gabrielle, and no +tankard! Well, never mind; these are but trifles. Rupert and I sail all +the same for England and the old property on Saturday." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII.--THE SACRED CUPBOARD. + + +Mr. Lovel told Gabrielle that the loss of the tankard and the letters +were but trifles. His daughter, however, by no means believed him; she +noticed the anxious look in his eyes and the little frown which came +between his brows. + +"Father's always like that when he's put out," she said. "Father's a man +who never yet lost his temper. He's much too big and too great and too +grand to stoop to anything small of that kind, but, all the same, I know +he's put out. He's a wonderful man for sticking out for the rights of +things, and if he thinks Rupert ought to inherit that old property in +England he won't leave a stone unturned to get it for him. He would not +fret; he would not think twice about it if it was not Rupert's right; +but as it is I know he is put out, and I know the loss of the tankard is +not just a trifle. Who could put a false tankard in the place of the +real one? Who could have done it? I know what I'll do. I'll go up to +mother's room again and have a good look round." + +Mrs. Lovel was not a year dead, and Gabrielle never entered the room +which had known her loved presence and from which she had been carried +away to her long rest without a feeling of pain. She was in many +respects a matter-of-fact girl--not nearly as sensitive as Rupert, who +with all his strength had the tenderest heart; nor as little Peggy, who +kept away from mother's room and never spoke of her without tears +filling her eyes. To enter mother's room seemed impossible to both +Rupert and Peggy, but Gabrielle found a certain sad pleasure in going +there; and when she had shut the door now she looked around her with a +little sigh. + +"I'll make it homelike, as if mother were here," she said to herself. +"I'll make it homelike, and then sit by the open window and try and +believe that mother is really asleep on that sofa, where she has lain +for so many, many hours." + +Her eyes brightened as this idea came to her, and she hastened to put it +into execution. She drew up the window-blinds and opened the pretty +bay-window, and let the soft delicious air of spring fill the apartment; +then she took the white covers off the chairs and sofa, pulled the sofa +forward into its accustomed position, and placed a couple of books on +the little table which always stood by its side. These few touches +transformed the large room; it lost its look of gloom and was once more +bright and homelike. A wistaria in full bloom peeped in at the open +window; the distant sounds of farm life were audible, and Gabrielle +heard Peggy's little voice talking in endearing tones to the cross old +ravens, Elijah and Grasper. She knelt by the open window and, pressing +her cheeks on her hands, looked out. + +"Oh, if only mother were on the sofa!" That was the cry which arose, +almost to pain, in her lonely heart. "Peggy and Rupert and I have no +mother, and now father and Rupert are going to England and I shall have +to do everything for Peggy. Peggy will lean on me; she always does--dear +little Peg! but I shall have no one." + +The thought of Rupert's so speedily leaving her recalled the tankard to +Gabrielle's memory. She got up and unlocked the cupboard, which was +situated at the back of her mother's bed. The cupboard was half-full of +heterogeneous matter--some treasures, some rubbish; numbers of old +photographs; numbers of childish and discarded books. Some of the +shelves were devoted to broken toys, to headless dolls, to playthings +worthless in themselves, but treasured for memory's sake by the mother. +Tears filled Gabrielle's eyes, but she dashed them away and was about to +institute a systematic search, when Rupert opened the door and came in. +His ruddy, brightly colored, healthy face was pale; he did not see +Gabrielle, who was partly hidden by the large bedstead. He entered the +room with soft, reverent footsteps, and walked across it as though +afraid to make a sound. + +Gabrielle started when she saw him; she knew that neither Rupert nor +Peggy ever came to the room. What did this visit mean? Why was that +cloud on Rupert's brow? From where she stood she could see without being +seen, and for a moment or two she hesitated to make a sound or to let +her brother know she was near him. He walked straight across the room to +the open window, looked out as Gabrielle had looked out, then turning to +the sofa, laid one muscular brown hand with a reverent gesture on the +pillow which his mother's head had pressed. The little home touches +which Gabrielle had given to the room were unnoticed by Rupert, for he +had never seen it in its shrouded and dismantled state. All his memories +centered round that sofa with the flowering chintz cover; the little +table; the small chair, which was usually occupied by a boy or girl as +they looked into the face they loved and listened to the gentle words +from the dearest of all lips. Rupert made no moan as Gabrielle had done, +but he drew the little chair forward, and laying his head face downward +on the pillow, gave vent to an inward supplication. The boy was strong +physically and mentally, and the spiritual life which his mother had +fostered had already become part of his being. He spoke it in no words, +but he lived it in his upright young life. To do honor to his mother's +memory, to reverence and love his mother's God, was his motto. + +Gabrielle felt uncomfortable standing behind the bedstead. She coughed, +made a slight movement, and Rupert looked up, with wet eyelashes. + +"Gabrielle!" he said, with a start of extreme surprise. + +"Yes, Rupert, I was in the room. I saw you come in. I was astonished, +for I know you don't come here. I was so sorry to be in the way, and +just at first I made no sound." + +"You are not a bit in the way," said Rupert, standing up and smiling at +her. "I came now because there are going to be immense changes, +and--somehow I could not help myself. I--I--wanted mother to know." + +"Yes," said Gabrielle, going and standing by his side. "Do you think she +does know, Rupert? Do you think God tells her?" + +"I feel that she does," said Rupert. "But I can't talk about mother, +Gabrielle; it is no use. What were you doing behind that bedstead?" he +added in a lighter tone. + +"I was looking for the tankard." + +"What, the old Avonsyde tankard? But of course it is there. It was +always kept in what we used to call the sacred cupboard." + +"Yes; but it is gone," said Gabrielle. "It was there and it has +vanished; and what is more wonderful, Rupert, another tankard has been +put in its place--a tankard something like it in shape, but not made of +silver and without the old motto." + +"Nonsense!" said Rupert almost sharply. "We will both go and look in the +cupboard, Gabrielle. The real tankard may be pushed far back out of +sight." + +"No; it is too large for that," said Gabrielle. "But you shall come and +see with your own eyes." + +She led the way, and the two began to explore the contents of the +cupboard, the boy touching the sacred relics with almost more reverent +fingers than the girl. The tankard, the real tankard, was certainly +nowhere to be found. + +"Father is put out about it," said Gabrielle. "I know it by his eyes and +by that firm way he compresses his lips together. He won't get into a +passion--you know he never does--but he is greatly put out. He says the +tankard forms important evidence, and that its being lost is very +disastrous to your prospects." + +"My prospects?" said Rupert. "Then father is not quite sure about my +being the lawful heir?" + +"Oh, Rupert, of course he is sure! But he must have evidence; he must +prove your descent. Rupert, dear, are you not delighted? Are you not +excited about all this?" + +"No, Gabrielle. I shall never love Avonsyde as I love Belmont. It was +here my mother lived and died." + +Tears came into Gabrielle's eyes. She was touched by Rupert's rare +allusion to his mother, but she also felt a sense of annoyance at what +she termed his want of enthusiasm. + +"If I were the heir----" she began. + +"Yes, Gabrielle--if you were the heir?" + +"I should be--oh, I cannot explain it all! But how my heart would beat; +how I should rejoice!" + +"I am glad too," said Rupert; "but I am not excited. I shall like to see +Europe, however; and I will promise to write you long letters and tell +you everything." + + + + +CHAPTER IX.--A TRYSTING-PLACE. + + +Rachel had a very restless fit on. She was a child full of impulses, +with spirits wildly high one day and proportionately depressed the next; +but the restlessness of her present condition did not resemble the +capricious and ever-changing moods which usually visited her. The uneasy +spirit which prevented her taking kindly to her lessons, which took the +charm from her play-hours and the pleasure even from Kitty's society, +had lasted now for months; it had its date from a certain lovely +summer's evening. Had Aunt Griselda and Aunt Katharine known more about +what their little niece did on that occasion, they might have attributed +her altered mood to an over-long ride and to some physical weakness. + +But Rachel was wonderfully strong; her cheeks bloomed; her dark eyes +sparkled; and the old ladies were interested just now in some one whom +they considered far more important than Rachel. So the little girl +neglected her lessons without getting into any very serious scrapes, and +more than once rode alone into the forest on Surefoot without being +reprimanded. Rachel would steal away from Kitty and from little Phil, +and would imperiously order Robert to saddle her pony and to ride with +her just a very little way into the forest; but then the groom was not +only allowed, but requested to turn off in another direction, and Rachel +would gallop as fast as possible past Rufus' Stone, and on as far as +that lovely glade where she had sat and gathered bluebells in the +summer. She always dismounted from Surefoot here, and standing with her +back to an old oak tree, waited with intense expectancy. She never went +further than the oak tree; she never went down a narrow path which led +to a certain cottage clothed completely in green; but she waited, with +her hands clasped and her eyes fixed eagerly on the distant vista of +forest trees. Sometimes her eyes would sparkle, and she would clap her +hands joyfully and run to meet a prim-looking old woman who came forward +through the shades to meet her. Sometimes she returned home without +seeing anybody, and on these occasions she was apt to be morose--snappish +to Kitty, rude to Mrs. Lovel and Phil, and, in short, disagreeable to +every one, except perhaps her gentle Aunt Katharine. + +The old ladies would vaguely wonder what ailed the child, and Miss +Griselda would hope she was not going to be famous for the Lovel temper; +but as their minds were very full of other things they did not really +investigate matters. + +One frosty day about the middle of November, when Phil and his mother +had been quite four months at Avonsyde, Rachel started off earlier than +usual for one of her long rides. The forest was full of a wonderful +mystical sort of beauty at all times and seasons, and now, with the +hoar-frost sparkling on the grass, with the sun shining brightly, and +with many of the autumn tints still lingering on the trees, it seemed +almost as delightful a place to Rachel as when clothed in its full +summer glory. The little brown-coated winter birds chirped cozily among +the branches of the trees, and hundreds of squirrels in a wealth of +winter furs bounded from bough to bough. Rachel as usual dismissed her +faithful attendant, Robert, and galloping to her accustomed +trysting-place, waited eagerly for what might befall. + +On this particular day she was not doomed to disappointment. The old +servant was soon seen approaching. Rachel ran to her, clasped her hands +round her arm, and raising her lips to her face, kissed her +affectionately. + +"Ah, you are a good Nancy to-day!" she exclaimed. "I was here on +Saturday and here on Wednesday, and you never came. It was very unkind +of you. I got so tired of standing by the oak tree and waiting. Well, +Nancy, is the lady quite well to-day?" + +"Middling, dearie; middling she ever is and will be until she claims her +own again." + +"Oh, you mysterious old woman! You are trying to make me desperately +curious, but I don't believe there is anything in your talk. You worry +me to keep a tremendous secret, and there's nothing in it, after all. +Oh, of course I'm keeping your secret; you needn't pretend to be so +frightened. And when am I to see the lady of the forest, Nancy?" + +"Now, my dear, haven't I told you until I'm tired? You're to see her +come your thirteenth birthday, love. The day you are thirteen you'll see +her, and not an hour sooner." + +Rachel stamped her foot angrily. + +"I shan't have a birthday till the beginning of May!" she said. "It's a +shame; it's a perfect, perfect shame!" + +Old Nancy pushed back a rebellious curl from the child's bright head. + +"Don't you fret, my pretty," she said tenderly. "The lady wants to see +you a deal--a sight more than you want to see her. The lady has passed +through many troubles, and not the least is the waiting to see your +pretty face." + +Rachel began eagerly to unbutton her habit, and taking from a little +pocket just inside its lining a tiny bag, she pulled out a small ring +and thrust it into Nancy's hand. + +"There," she said, "that's the most precious thing I have, and I give it +to her. It's all gold, and isn't that a beautiful pearl? I used to wear +it on my finger when I wanted to be very grand, but I'd rather she had +it. Perhaps she won't feel so lonely when she wears it, for she will +remember that it was given to her by a little girl who is so sorry for +her, and who loves her--yes, isn't it queer?--although we have never met. +You know, Nancy," continued Rachel, "I can quite sympathize with lonely +people, for to a certain extent I know what it means. I miss my mother +so very much. When I'm grown up, Nancy, I'm going all round the wide +world looking for her." + +"Bless you, darling!" said old Nancy. "Yes, I'll give the ring and your +pretty message. And now, love, tell me, how is the little gentleman +getting on? Have the old ladies made him their heir yet?" + +"Not quite yet, Nancy; but they like him--we all like him. He is a dear +little boy, and Aunt Griselda and Aunt Katharine make such a fuss about +him. Do you know that a week ago I saw Aunt Griselda actually put her +arms about his neck and kiss him! She kissed him three or four times. +Wasn't it wonderful? for she's such a cold person. I think people can't +help being fond of little Phil, though he's not exactly pretty. I heard +Aunt Griselda and Aunt Katharine say that when they do really feel +certain that he is the right heir they are going to have a great, +tremendous party, and they will present him to every one as the heir of +Avonsyde, and then immediately afterward he is to be sent to a +preparatory school for Eton. Oh, won't Kitty cry when he goes away!" + +"Do you make out that the ladies will soon come to a decision, Miss +Rachel?" inquired the old servant in a dubious tone. "It's a wonderful +important matter--choosing an heir. Are they likely to settle it all in a +hurry?" + +Rachel laughed. + +"I don't know," she said. "Phil has been with us for four months now; +they haven't been in such a hurry. I do hope it will be soon, for I want +the party. Now, good-by, Nancy; I'll come to see you before long again. +Be sure you give my ring to the lady of the forest." + +"One moment, missy," said old Nancy, stretching out her hand and drawing +the young girl back to her side. "One moment, Miss Rachel Lovel; I'm +fain to see that little boy. Could you manage to bring him this way, +missy? Could you manage it without nobody finding out? Is he the kind of +little fellow who wouldn't tell if you asked him earnest, most earnest, +not? I'd like to see him and the lady; but no matter, Miss Rachel, I +misdoubt me that you could manage a clever thing like that." + +"Oh, couldn't I?" said Rachel, her eyes sparkling. "Why, I'd like it of +all things! I can easily coax Phil to come here, for he's perfectly wild +about squirrels and animals of all kinds, and I never saw such a lot of +squirrels as there are in the oaks round here. Phil has got a pony too, +and he shall come for a ride with me, and Robert of course can come to +take care of us. Oh, I'll manage it; but I didn't know you were such a +curious woman, Nancy." + +The sun was already showing signs of taking its departure, and Rachel +did not dare to prolong her interview another moment. + + + + +CHAPTER X.--PROOFS. + + +Mrs. Lovel was becoming reconciled to her tower chamber. Ghostly as it +appeared, no ghosts had visited her there; on the contrary, she had +slept soundly; and as the days wore on and she found the quiet, simple +life at Avonsyde soothing to her perturbed nerves and restoring vigor to +her somewhat feeble frame, she came to the conclusion that the tower was +a particularly healthy place to sleep in, and that some of the +superabundant vigor which characterized Miss Griselda must be owing to +the splendid air which night after night she inhaled in her lofty +chamber. + +As soon as ever this idea took possession of Mrs. Lovel's mind, she +would not have changed her ancient tower bedroom for the most modern and +luxurious which Avonsyde could offer. + +A thought--a pleasing thought--came ever and anon to the poor lady as she +watched her boy's peaceful face when he lay asleep on his little white +bed. + +"Suppose the healthy air of the tower makes Philip strong?" + +Philip had been for some months at Avonsyde, and no one yet had found +out that he possessed any special delicacy. At first the pallor of his +little face had been commented on; but people soon got accustomed to +this, and the boy was so merry, so good-humored, so brave, that those +who watched him would have found it difficult to associate any special +weakness with such lithe and agile movements, with so gay a spirit, with +so merry and ringing a laugh. Miss Griselda had begun by declaring, both +in her sister's presence and also in that of Philip's mother, that no +decisive step could be taken until a doctor had thoroughly examined the +boy; but of late she had ceased to speak of any doctor, and had nodded +her head in an approving manner when Phil had sung out to her from the +tops of the tallest trees, or had galloped panting and laughing to her +side on his rough forest pony. Miss Katharine said many times to her +sister: + +"Surely we need make no delay. There seems no doubt that the boy can +absolutely trace his succession from Rupert Lovel. Why should we waste +money, Griselda, in inserting that advertisement any more in the +newspapers when we have found our heir?" + +Miss Lovel, however, was not to be unduly hurried in so momentous a +matter. + +"We cannot be too careful, Katharine. Yes, we will insert the +advertisement once or twice again. It was only yesterday I heard from +Mr. Baring that some fresh claimants are writing to him through their +lawyers. There is no hurry whatever, and we cannot be too careful." + +Perhaps Miss Katharine took it rather too much as a matter of course +that Phil could trace his descent, without flaw, from the Rupert Lovel +who had quarreled with his father long ago. She was so accustomed to +hearing Mrs. Lovel say, "I have got all the proofs; I can trace the +descent without a single break for you at any time," that she began to +believe she had gone through the genealogical tree, and had seen with +her own eyes that the child was the lineal descendant of the elder +branch of her house. + +Miss Griselda was far sharper than her sister. Miss Griselda knew +perfectly that Phil's descent was not yet proved, but, unlike most old +ladies in her position, she disliked genealogy. She said openly that it +puzzled her, and on one occasion when Mrs. Lovel, in her half-timid, +half-fretful voice, said, "Shall I bring you the proofs of Phil's +descent now? Are you at leisure to look into the matter to-day?" Miss +Griselda replied somewhat sharply: + +"I hate genealogical trees. Katharine can understand them, but I can't. +I don't suppose, Mrs. Lovel, you would be so utterly devoid of all sense +as to bring the boy here and to establish yourself in our house without +having incontestable proofs that he is what you represent him to be. I +take it for granted that Phil is a direct descendant of Rupert Lovel, +but I shall certainly not make him our heir until more competent eyes +than mine examine your proofs. At present I am more interested in +watching Phil's health, for if he was fifty times descended from our +ancestor and was weakly he should not inherit Avonsyde. When I have +quite made up my mind that your boy is strong I will ask Mr. Baring, our +business man, to come to Avonsyde and go into the proofs; then, all +being satisfactory, the boy shall be announced as our heir, and we will +of course undertake his maintenance and education from that moment." + +Mrs. Lovel breathed a slight sigh of relief. + +"Having proclaimed Phil as your heir, nothing would induce you to revoke +your decision afterward?" she asked nervously. + +"Certainly not. What a strange speech to make! The boy being strong, +being the right age, and being an undoubted descendant of our house, +what more could we want? Rest assured, Mrs. Lovel, that when your boy is +proclaimed heir of Avonsyde, were fifty other claimants to come forward +we should not even listen to their plea." + +A faint pink, born of intense gratification, colored Mrs. Level's pale +cheeks. + +"I should like to be bold enough to ask you another question," she said. + +Miss Griselda smiled in a freezing manner. + +"Ask me what you please," she answered. "You must forgive my saying that +I have already observed how singularly restless and uncomfortable you +are. I think I can guess what is the matter. You are intensely curious +about us and our money. Oh, no, I am not at all offended. Pray ask what +you want to know." + +Mrs. Lovel, though a timid, was a rather obtuse person, and she was not +crushed by Miss Griselda's withering sarcasm. Clearing her throat and +pausing slightly before bringing out her words, she continued: + +"I have wondered--I could not help wondering--what you would do with your +property if no heir turned up." + +This speech, which was as audacious as it was unexpected, caused Miss +Lovel to raise her finely marked eyebrows with some scorn. + +"Your question is indiscreet," she said; "but, as it happens, I do not +mind answering it. Did no true heir appear for Avonsyde during our +lifetime the place would be inherited by our nieces, Rachel and Kitty +Lovel; but they would only have a life-interest in the property, and +would be solemnly bound over to continue our search for the missing +heir." + +"Rachel and Kitty will, then, be disappointed when Phil is announced as +your representative," said Mrs. Lovel, rising with sudden alacrity to +her feet. "Thank you so much for your valuable information, Miss Lovel. +You may be quite certain that I shall regard what you have been good +enough to confide to me as absolutely confidential." + +"I have told you nothing that everybody doesn't know," answered Miss +Griselda. "I never reveal secrets, and least of all to those who are not +related to us. Talk to any one you please about what I have said to you. +As to my brother's children, I am thankful to say they have not yet +attained an age when the absence or the presence of money is of the +slightest moment to them. One word more, Mrs. Lovel, before we change +our conversation. I have noticed without your telling me that you are +extremely poor." + +Mrs. Lovel interrupted with a great sigh. + +"Oh!" she said, throwing up her hands and speaking with marked emphasis, +"I have known the sore pangs of poverty--of course, it has been genteel +poverty. I could never forget Phil's birth nor what I owed to my poor +dear husband's position, and of course I made a great effort to descend +to nothing menial; but, yes, I have been poor." + +"You need not excite yourself about the past. When Phil's identity is +established and his position assured, it is the intention of my sister +and myself to settle upon you for your life an income of L500 a year. +Pray don't thank me; we do it for our own sakes, as of course Phil's +mother has a certain position to keep up. We should recommend you to +settle somewhere near your boy. What did you say? No, no; that cannot +be. When everything is settled we must request you to remove to your own +home." + +For Mrs. Lovel had interrupted with the almost incoherent words: + +"Am I not to live at Avonsyde always?" + + + + +CHAPTER XI.--THE LADY WHO CAME WITH A GIFT. + + +Rachel did not forget her promise to old Nancy. She had never taken so +much pains to cultivate Phil's acquaintance as Kitty had done. She had +certainly joined in the almost universal chorus that he was a nice and +lovable little boy, but she had not greatly troubled her head about his +pursuits or his pleasures. She was too much taken up with the wonderful +secret which she possessed with regard to the real existence of the lady +of the forest. But now that the said lady seemed to wish to see Phil, +and now that she, Rachel, had almost bound herself to bring Phil to the +trysting-place in the forest, she began to regard him with new interest. +Kitty and Phil had long ere this established a world of their own--a +world peopled by caterpillars of enormous size, by the most sagacious +spiders that were ever known to exist, by beetles of rare brilliancy, by +birds, by squirrels--in short, by the numerous creature-life of the great +forest; and last, but not least, by the fairies and gnomes which were +supposed to haunt its dells. Kitty could tell many stories of forest +adventures, of the wonderful and terrible bogs on which the luckless +traveler alighted unawares, and from which, unless instant help arrived, +he could never hope to extricate himself. She spoke about the malicious +little Jack-o'-lanterns which were supposed to allure the unwary into +these destructive places, and Phil, with a most vivid imagination of his +own, loved to lie at her feet and embellish her tales with numerous +inventions. The two children were scarcely ever apart, and doubtless one +reason why Rachel thought so much of her secret was because Kitty was no +longer her undivided companion. + +Now, however, she must seek out Kitty and Phil, and enter into their +pursuits and take a share in their interests if she hoped to induce Phil +to accompany her into the forest. Accordingly one day, with a book in +her hand, she sauntered out into a very sunny part of the grounds. Phil, +basking in the rays of the most brilliant sunshine, had thrown himself +at the foot of an old sun-dial; Kitty had climbed into the boughs of a +small bare tree which stood near, and as usual the two were chatting +eagerly. Rachel, with her head full of the lady of the forest, came up, +to hear Kitty and Phil discussing this very personage. + +"She's all in green," said Kitty. "Her dress is greener than the trees +and her face is most beautiful, and her hair is gold and----" + +"No," interrupted Rachel; "she's in gray; and her hair is not gold--it is +dark." + +Then she colored high and bit her lips with vexation, for she felt that +in her eagerness she had given a clew to her dear real lady's identity. + +Kitty raised her eyebrows in great surprise. + +"Why, Rachel," she said, "it was you who told me she was in green. How +very queer and disagreeable of you to make her so ugly and +uninteresting. People who wear gray are most uninteresting. You forget, +Rachel, our lady is in green--greener than the grass. I do wish you would +tell Phil all about her; you can describe her so much better than I +can." + +"She has a face which is almost too lovely," continued Rachel, taking up +the cue on the instant and speaking with great animation. "She lives in +the deepest shades of the forest, and she appears never, never, except +to those who belong to the forest. Those families who have belonged to +the New Forest for hundreds of years have seen her, but outsiders never +do. When she does appear she comes with a gift in her hand. Do you know +what it is?" + +"No," said Phil, raising himself on his elbow and looking with great +intentness at Rachel. "I know what I would wish her to give me--that is, +if she ever came to see me; but of course I cannot possibly say what +gifts she brings." + +"Those who have seen her," said Rachel, "catch just a shadow of the +reflection of her lovely face, and they never lose it--never! Some ladies +of our house saw her, and their portraits are in our portrait-gallery, +and they are much more beautiful than any of the other Lovels. She does +not give beauty of feature--it is of expression; and such a brightness +shines from her. Yes, her gift is the gift of beauty; and I do wish, and +so does Kitty, that we could see her." + +Phil smiled a little scornfully. + +"Is that all she gives?" he said. "That wouldn't be much to me. I mean +if I saw her I know what I'd ask. I'd say, 'I am a boy, and beauty isn't +of much use to a boy; so please give me instead--money!'" + +"Oh, Phil!" exclaimed both the little girls. + +"She wouldn't come to you," said Kitty in a mournful tone. "She wouldn't +look at any one so avaricious." + +"Besides, Phil," continued Rachel, "when Avonsyde is yours you'll be a +rich man; and I don't think," she added, "that you are quite right when +you say that beauty is of no use to a boy; for if you have the kind of +beauty the lady gives, it is like a great power, and you can move people +and turn them as you will; and of course you can use it for good, Phil." + +"All right," said Phil, "but I'd rather have money; for if I had money +I'd give it to mother, and then I needn't be heir of Avonsyde, +and--and--oh, I mustn't say! Kitty, I do wish we could go to Southampton +again soon. I want to go there on most particular business. Do you think +Aunt Grizel will take us before Christmas?" + +"Is it about the letter?" asked Kitty. "But you couldn't have had an +answer yet, Phil. There is no use in your going to Southampton before an +answer can have arrived." + +"I suppose not," said Phil in a gloomy voice. "It's a long, long time to +wait, though." + +"What are you waiting for?" asked Rachel. + +Phil raised very mournful eyes to her face. + +"You have a look of him," he said. "Oh, how I hate being heir of +Avonsyde! I wouldn't be it for all the world but for mother. Kitty, +shall we go into the forest and look for beetles?" + +"I'll come with you," said Rachel. "You two are always together and I'm +out in the cold, and I don't mean to be in the cold any longer. I may +come with you both, may I not?" + +Kitty smiled radiantly, Phil linked his little brown hand inside +Rachel's arm, and the three set off. + +No little girl could make herself more fascinating than Rachel when she +pleased. She developed on the instant a most astonishing knowledge of +beetles and spiders; she drew on her imagination for her facts, and +deceived Kitty, but not Phil. Phil was a born little naturalist, and in +consequence he only favored his elder cousin with a shrewd and comical +look, and did not trouble himself even to negative her daring +assertions. Seeing that she made no way in this direction, Rachel +started a theme about which she possessed abundant knowledge. The New +Forest had been more or less her nursery; she knew its haunts well; she +knew where to look for the earliest primroses, the first violets, and +also the very latest autumn flowers; she knew where the holly berries +were reddest, where the robins had their nests, and where the squirrels +were most abundant; and Phil, recognizing the tone of true knowledge, +listened first with respect, then with interest, then with enthusiasm. +Oh, yes, they must go to that dell; they must visit that sunny bank. +Before Rachel and her sister and cousin came home that day they had +planned an excursion which surely must give the mysterious lady of the +forest that peep at Phil which she so earnestly desired. Rachel was +sorry to be obliged to include Kitty in the party, for Kitty had not +been asked to pass in review by old Nancy. Phil was the one whom Nancy +and the lady wished to see just once with their own eyes: Phil, who was +to be heir of Avonsyde and who didn't like it. Rachel went to bed quite +jubilant, for she would have done anything to please the unknown lady +who had won her capricious little heart. She did not guess that anything +would occur to spoil her plans, and in consequence slept very +peacefully. + +Phil had been much excited by Rachel's words. He was a very imaginative +child, and though he did not believe in ghosts, yet he was certainly +impressed by what both the little girls had told him of the lady of the +forest. He quite believed in this lady, and did not care to inquire too +closely whether she was fairy or mortal. She appeared at rare intervals +to the sons and daughters of the house of Lovel, and when she did she +came with a gift. Phil did not altogether believe that this lovely, +graceful, and gracious lady would be so obdurate as only to bestow an +unvalued gift of beauty. He thought that if he were lucky enough to see +her he might so intercede with her that she would give him a bag of gold +instead. He need keep no secrets from her, for if she was a fairy she +must know them already; and he might tell her all about his +difficulties, and how his small heart was torn with great love for +Rupert and great love for his mother. He might tell the lady of the +forest how very little he cared for Avonsyde, except as a possible +future home for his gay and brave Cousin Rupert, and he might ask her to +give him the bag of precious gold to satisfy his mother and keep her +from starving. Phil was dreadfully oppressed with all the secrets he had +to keep. Happy as he was at Avonsyde, there were so many, many things he +must not talk about. He must never mention Rupert, nor Gabrielle, nor +Peggy; he must never breathe the name of Belmont nor say a word about +his old nurse Betty. All the delightful times he had spent with his +Australian cousins must be as though they had never been. He must not +tell about the delicious hours he and Betty had spent together in the +little cottage behind the garden when his mother had been away in +Melbourne. He must not speak about the excursions that Rupert had taken +with him. A veil, a close veil, must be spread over all the past, and +the worst of it was that he knew the reason why. His mother wanted him +to get what Rupert would have been so much more fitted for. Well! well! +He loved his mother and he could not break her heart, so he kept all +these little longings and desires to himself, and only half let out his +secrets a dozen times a day. On one point, however, he was firm and +stanch as a little Spartan: he never breathed a sigh nor uttered a groan +which could be construed into even the semblance of physical pain. + +When he felt quite exhausted, so tired that it was an effort to move, he +would spring up again at Kitty's least word and, with the drops on his +little brow, climb to the top of that straight, tall tree once more and +hide his face at last in the friendly sheltering leaves until he got +back his panting breath. The splendid air of Avonsyde undoubtedly +strengthened him, but the strain of always appearing bright and well was +sometimes almost too much, and he wondered how long he could go on +pretending to be quite the strongest little boy in the world. He fancied +now how nice it would be to tell the kind lady of the forest how weak he +really was; how his heart often beat almost to suffocation; what cruel +pain came suddenly to stab and torture him. Oh! he could show her +plainly that money was the gift for him, and that Rupert, who was so +valiant, so strong, so splendid, was the only right heir to the old +place. + +Phil greatly enjoyed his tower bedroom. Not a particle of the +nervousness which made his mother uneasy assailed him. The only thing he +did regret was that he could not sleep quite at the very top of the +tower, in those attic rooms inhabited by Miss Griselda and Miss +Katharine. When some of those bad attacks of pain and breathlessness +assailed him, he liked, notwithstanding the exertion, to creep up and up +those winding stone stairs, for he knew that when he got to the top and +had attained his refuge he could really rest; he might throw off all the +Spartan and be a little human boy who could moan and sigh and even shed +a few secret tears for the gallant Rupert whom he loved. Phil had got +into a habit of not even telling his mother of those queer attacks of +weakness and breathlessness which came over him. Nothing annoyed and +distressed her so much as to hear of them, and little Phil was by +degrees beginning to feel a sort of protective love toward the rather +weak woman: their positions were being unconsciously reversed. Mrs. +Lovel seldom came to the tower bedroom in the day-time. Under the +pretext that the stairs wearied her, she had begged to be allowed to +have a dressing-room in a more modern part of the house, so Phil could +be quite alone and undisturbed when he chose to visit his room. One of +Miss Griselda's excellent rules for children was that they must retire +early to bed. Phil, in Australia, had sat up far later than was good for +him, but now at Avonsyde he and Kitty were always expected to have +entered the land of dreams not later than eight o'clock in the evening. +Mrs. Lovel seldom came upstairs before midnight, and in consequence Phil +spent several hours alone every night in his quaint bedroom. He was +often not at all sleepy, and on these occasions he would open one of the +tiny deep-set windows, and look out into the night and listen to the +hootings of some owls which had long ago made a home for themselves in a +portion of the old tower. On other occasions he would amuse himself with +one of Kitty's story-books, or again he would arrange some very precious +little collections of wild birds' eggs and other forest treasures. + +On this particular night, after Rachel's and Kitty's conversation, he +was more than usually wakeful. He got into bed, for Aunt Griselda told +him to be sure to undress and go to sleep as quickly as possible; but +finding sleep very far away from his wakeful eyes he got up, and, after +the fashion of a restless little boy, began to perambulate the room and +to try to discover anything of interest to divert his attention. A very +old horse-hair trunk of his mother's stood in one corner of the room; it +had never been unpacked, for it was only supposed to contain books and +some household treasures not immediately required by Mrs. Lovel. Phil +had once or twice coaxed his mother to unpack the old trunk, for among +the books was his pet "Robinson Crusoe." There was also an old box of +paints which Rupert had given him, and a queer, old-fashioned cup, made +of horn, which Rupert and he always took with them when they went for a +day's excursion into any of the neighboring forests. Phil saw now, to +his great delight, that the key was in the lock of the old trunk, and it +occurred to him that he could pass an agreeable hour rummaging among its +contents for his beloved "Robinson Crusoe" and his old horn cup. He +accordingly set a candlestick on the floor, and opening the trunk knelt +down by it and began to forage. He worked hard, and the exertion tired +him and brought on an attack of breathlessness; but he was much +interested in the sight of many old home treasures and had no idea how +time was flying. He could not find either his "Robinson Crusoe" or his +horn cup, but he came across another treasure wrapped up in an old piece +of flannel which gave him intense delight. This was no other than a +silver tankard of quaint device and very Old-World pattern, with a coat +of arms and the words "Tyde what may" inscribed on one side. Phil knew +the tankard well, and raising it to his lips he kissed it tenderly. + +"Why, this belongs to Uncle Rupert and to Belmont!" he exclaimed. "The +very same dear old tankard which Gabrielle is so proud of. I've seen it +dozens of times. Well, I never thought Uncle Rupert would have given +this dear old tankard to mother. How kind of him! I wonder mother never +spoke of it. Oh, dear, what stories Gabrielle has told me about it! She +used to call it a magical tankard and said it had a history. Mother must +have quite forgotten she had it in the old trunk. How delighted Rachel +and Kitty will be when I show it to them to-morrow." + +Phil was so excited over his discovery that he became instantly careless +as to finding either his "Robinson Crusoe" or his horn cup, and pushing +the rest of contents of the trunk back into their place and turning the +lock, he crept into bed, carrying the beloved tankard with him. When his +mother came upstairs presently she found the boy fast asleep, and little +guessed what treasure he clasped in his arms. + +It is true that little Phil had entered the land of dreams; it is also +true that in that enchanted land he went through experiences so +delightful, through adventures so thrilling, that when in the dull gray +November morning he awoke to listen to his mother's monotonous +breathing, he simply could do nothing but step out of bed and determine +to follow his dreams if necessary to the end of the world. The light had +scarcely come. He would dress himself hastily and, taking the enchanted +tankard with him, go into the forest all alone, in the hopes of meeting +the beautiful lady who came with a gift. + + + + +CHAPTER XII.--LOST IN THE NEW FOREST. + + +Mrs. Lovel slept very soundly, and Phil did not disturb her when he +opened the ponderous oak door of his bedroom, and clasping the tankard +tightly in both hands went downstairs and out. It was very, very early, +for Phil had mistaken the shining of the moon for the first light of +day. Not a soul was up at Avonsyde, but the little boy easily found a +means of exit, and in a few moments was running quickly down the +straight avenue which led into the forest. He was intensely happy and +excited, for the fragrance of his delightful dreams was still +surrounding him, and he felt confident that if he only ran far enough he +must find that wonderful lady whose dress was greener than the trees and +whose face was so radiantly beautiful. The morning was damp and gloomy, +for the moon set very soon after Phil started on his walk, and the sun +had no idea of getting up for another couple of hours. The forest, which +looked so pleasant and cheery by day, was now all that was dark and +dismal; so of course the first thing that happened to poor little Phil +was completely to lose his way. + +He possessed a very high spirit, and such small disadvantages as +stumbling in the dark and tearing himself with unseen briers, and +altogether becoming a sadly chilled and damp little boy, could not +quench the ardent hope which impelled him to go forward. He pushed on +bravely, having a kind of confidence that the further he got from +Avonsyde the more likely he was to meet the lady. Presently the darkness +gave place to a gray, dim light, and then, in an incredibly short space +of time, the little boy found himself surrounded by a delicious golden +atmosphere. The sun climbed up into the heavens; the mist vanished; +daylight and sunlight had come. Phil took off his cap, and leaning +against a tree laughed with pleasure. It wanted three weeks to +Christmas; but what a lovely morning, and how the sun glittered and +sparkled on the frosty ground! Some shy robin-redbreasts hopped about +and twittered gleefully; the squirrels were intensely busy cracking +their breakfast-nuts; and Phil, raising his eyes to watch them, +discovered that he was hungry. His hunger he could not gratify, but the +thirst which also assailed him could be easily assuaged, for a brook +babbled noisily not many feet away. Phil ran to it, and dipping his +tankard into the water took a long draught. He had not an idea where he +was, but with the sun shining and the birds singing no part of the +forest could be lonely, and he tripped on in gay spirits, hoping to see +the lady with the green dress coming to meet him through the trees. He +had listened to many stories about the forest lady from Kitty. She +appeared very, very seldom to any one, but when she did come she chose a +solitary place and moment, for it was one of her unbroken rules never to +reveal herself to two people together. Phil, remembering this +peculiarity of the beautiful lady, took care to avoid the high-road and +to plunge deeper and deeper into the most shady recesses and the most +infrequented paths. As he walked on, whether from exhaustion or from +hunger, or from an under-current of strong excitement, he became really +a little feverish; his heart beat a great deal too fast, and his +imagination was roused to an abnormal extent. He knew that he had lost +his way, but as the hours went on he became more and more convinced that +he would find the lady, and of course when he saw her and looked in her +face his troubles would be ended. He would pour out all his cares and +all his longings into the ears of this wonderful being. She would soothe +him; she would pity him; and, above all things, she would give him that +golden store which would make his mother contented and happy. + +"Perhaps she will carry me home too," thought little Phil, "for though I +am always making believe to be well, I am not really a strong boy, and I +am very tired now." + +The hours went on, the daylight grew brighter, and then came an +unexpected change. The sunny morning was treacherous, after all; dark +clouds approached from the north; they covered the smiling and sunny +sky, and then a cold rain which was half-sleet began to fall +mercilessly. Phil had of course not dreamed of providing himself with a +great-coat, and though at first the trees supplied him with a certain +amount of shelter, their branches, which were mostly bare, were soon +drenched, and the little boy was wet through. He had climbed to the top +of a rising knoll, and looking down through the driving rain he heard a +stream brawling loudly about forty feet below. He fancied that if he got +on lower ground he might find shelter, so he ran as quickly as he could +in the direction of the hurrying water. Oh, horror! what had happened to +him? What was this? The ground shook under his little footsteps. When he +tried to step either backward or forward he sank. Phil caught his +breath, laughed a little because he did not want to cry, and said aloud: + +"Kitty is quite right; there are bogs in the forest, and I'm in one." + +He was a very brave child, and even his present desperate situation did +not utterly daunt him. + +"Now I'm in real danger," he said aloud. "In some ways it's rather nice +to be in real danger. Rupert and I used often to talk about it and +wonder what we'd do, and Rupert always said: 'Phil, be sure when the +time comes that you don't lose your presence of mind.' Well, the time +has come now, and I must try to be very cool. When I stay perfectly +still I find that I don't sink--at least very little. Oh, how tired I am! +I wish some one would come. I wish the rain would stop. I know I'll fall +presently, for I'm so fearfully tired. I wish the lady would come--I do +wish she would! If she knew that I was in danger she might hurry to +me--that is, if she's as kind and beautiful as Kitty tells me she is. Oh, +dear! oh, dear! I know I shall fall soon. Well, if I do I'm certain to +sink into the bog, and--Rupert will have Avonsyde. Oh, poor mother! how +she will wonder where I've got to! Now, I really don't want to sink in a +bog even for Rupert's sake, so I must keep my presence of mind and try +to be as cheerful as possible. Suppose I sing a little--that's much +better than crying and will make as much noise in case any one is +passing by." + +So Phil raised a sweet and true little voice and tried to rival the +robins. But a poor little half-starving boy stuck fast in a bog is so +far a remarkable spectacle that the robins themselves, coming out after +the shower to dry their feathers, looked at him in great wonder. He was +a brave little boy and he sang sweetly, and they liked the music he made +very well; but what was he doing there? Perching themselves on the +boughs of some low trees which grew near the brook, they glanced shyly +at him out of their bright eyes, and then quite unknowingly performed a +little mission for his rescue. They flew to meet a lady whom they knew +well and from whose hand they often pecked crumbs, and they induced this +lady to turn aside from her accustomed path and to follow them, as they +hopped and flew in front of her; for the lady was suddenly reminded by +the robins of some little birds at home for which she meant to gather a +particular weed which grew near the bog. + +The rain was over, the sun was again shining brightly, when little Phil, +tired, sick unto death, raised his eyes and saw, with the sunlight +behind her, a lady, graceful and gracious in appearance, coming down the +path. He did not notice whether her dress was gray or green; he only +knew that to him she looked radiant and lovely. + +"Oh, you have been a long time coming, but please save me now!" he +sobbed, and then he did tumble into the bog, for he suddenly fainted +away. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII.--ONE MORE SECRET. + + +When Phil opened his eyes he was quite sure for several moments that all +his best dreams were realized. He was in a very tiny parlor (he loved +small rooms, for they reminded him of the cottage at the back of the +garden); he was lying full length on an old-fashioned and deliciously +soft sofa, and a lady with a tender and beautiful face was bending over +him; the firelight flickered in a cozy little grate and the sunlight +poured in through a latticed window. The whole room was a picture of +comfort, and Phil drew a deep sigh of happiness. + +"Have you given mother the bag of gold? And are we back in the cottage +at the back of the garden?" he murmured. + +"Drink this, dear," said the quiet, grave voice, and then a cup of +delicious hot milk was held to his little blue lips, and after he had +taken several sips of the milk he was able to sit up and look round him. + +"You are the lady of the forest, aren't you? But where's your green +dress?" + +"I am a lady who lives in the forest, my dear child. I am so glad I came +down to that dreadful bog and rescued you. What is your name, my dear +little boy?" + +"My name? I am Phil Lovel. Do you know, it is so sad, but I am going to +have Avonsyde. I am the heir. I don't want it at all. It was principally +about Avonsyde I came out this morning to find you. Yes, I had a great +escape in the bog, but I felt almost sure that you would come to save +me. It was very good of you. I am not a strong boy, and I don't suppose +I could have stood up in that dreadful cold, damp bog much longer. +Although I'm not bad at bearing pain, yet the ache in my legs was +getting quite terrible. Well, it's all right now, and I'm so glad I've +found you. Are you very rich, lady of the forest? And may I tell you +everything?" + +Had Phil not been absorbed in his own little remarks he might have +noticed a curious change coming over the lady's face. For one brief +instant her eyes seemed to blaze, her brows contracted as if with pain, +and the band with which she held the restorative to Phil's lips +trembled. Whatever emotion overcame her its effect was brief. When the +boy, wondering at her silence, raised his eyes to look at her, it was +only a sweet and quiet glance which met his. + +"I have heard of little Philip Lovel," she said. "I am glad to see you. +I am glad I saved you from a terrible fate. If no one had come to your +rescue you must eventually have sunk in that dreadful bog." + +"But I was quite sure you would come," answered Phil. "Do you know, I +went out this morning expecting to meet you. Betty and I have spoken of +you so very, very often. We have made up lovely stories about you; but +you have always been in green and your face dazzled. Now you are not in +green. You are in a dark, plain dress--as plain a dress as mother used to +wear when we lived in the house behind the garden; and though you are +beautiful--yes, I really think you are beautiful--you don't dazzle. Well, +I am glad I have met you. Did you know that a little boy was wandering +all over the forest looking for you to-day? And did you come out on +purpose to meet him and to save him? Oh, I trust, I do trust you have +got the gift with you!" + +"I don't quite understand you, my dear little boy," said the lady. "No, +I did not come to meet you. I simply took a walk between the showers. +You are talking too much and too fast; you must be quiet now, and I will +put this warm rug over you and you can try to sleep. When you are quite +rested and warm, Nancy, my servant, will take you back to Avonsyde." + +Phil was really feeling very tired; his limbs ached; his throat was dry +and parched; he was only too glad to lie still on that soft sofa in that +tiny room and not pretend to be anything but a sadly exhausted little +boy. He even closed his eyes at the lady's bidding, but he soon opened +them again, for he liked to watch her as she sat by the fire. No, she +was scarcely dazzling, but Phil could quite believe that she might be +considered beautiful. Her eyes were dark and gray; her hair was also +dark, very soft, and very abundant; her mouth had an expression about it +which Phil seemed partly to know, which puzzled him, for he felt so sure +that he had seen just such resolute and well cut lips in some one else. + +"It's Rachel!" he said suddenly under his breath. "How very, very queer +that Rachel should have a look of the lady of the forest!" + +He half-roused himself to watch the face, which began more and more to +remind him of Rachel's. + +But as he looked there came a curious change over the lady's expressive +face. The firm lips trembled; a look of agonized yearning and longing +filled the pathetic gray eyes, and a few words said aloud with +unspeakable sadness reached the little boy. + +"So Kitty speaks of me--little, little Kitty speaks of me." + +The lady covered her face with her hands, and Phil, listening very +attentively, thought he heard her sob. + +After this he really closed his eyes and went to sleep. When he awoke +the winter's light had disappeared, the curtains were drawn across the +little window, and a reading-lamp with a rose-colored shade made the +center of the table look pretty. There was a cozy meal spread for two on +the board, and when Phil opened his eyes and came back to the world of +reality, the lady was bending over the fire and making some crisp toast. + +"You have had a nice long sleep," she said in a cheerful voice. "Now +will you come to the table and have some tea? Here is a fresh egg for +you, which Brownie, my dear speckled hen, laid while you were asleep. +You feel much better, don't you? Now you must make a very good tea, and +when you have finished Nancy will take you as far as Rufus' Stone, where +I have asked a man with a chaise to meet her; he will drive you back to +Avonsyde in less than an hour." + +Phil felt quite satisfied with these arrangements. He also discovered +that he was very hungry; so he tumbled off the sofa, and with his +light-brown hair very much tossed and his eyes shining, took his place +at the tea-table. There he began to chatter, and did not at all know +that the lady was leading him on to tell her as much as possible about +Rachel and Kitty and about his life at Avonsyde. He answered all her +questions eagerly, for he had by no means got over his impression that +she was really the lady whom he had come to seek. + +"I don't want Avonsyde, you know," he said suddenly, speaking with great +earnestness. "Oh, please, if you are the lady of the forest and can give +those who seek you a gift, let my gift be a bag of gold! I will take it +back to mother in the chaise to-night, and then--and then--poor mother! My +mother is very poor, lady, but when I give her your gold she will be +rich, and then we can both go away from Avonsyde." + +For a moment or two the lady with the sad gray eyes looked with wonder +and perplexity at little Phil--some alarm even was depicted on her face, +but it suddenly cleared and lightened. She rose from her chair, and +going up to the child stooped and kissed him. + +"You don't want Avonsyde. Then I am your friend, little Phil Lovel. Here +are three kisses--one for you, one for Rachel, one for Kitty. Give my +kisses as from yourself to the little girls. But I am not what you think +me, Phil. I am no supernatural lady who can give gifts or can dazzle +with unusual beauty. I am just a plain woman who lives here most of the +year and earns her bread with hard and daily labor. I cannot give money, +for I have not got it. I can be your friend, however. Not a powerful +friend--certainly not; but no true friendship is to be lightly thrown +away. Why, my little man, how disappointed you look! Are you really +going to cry?" + +"Oh, no, I won't cry!" said Phil, but with a very suspicious break in +his voice; "but I am so tired of all the secrets and of pretending to be +strong and all that. If you are not the lady and have not got the bag of +gold, mother and I will have to stay on at Avonsyde, for mother is very +poor and she would starve if we went away. You don't know what a +dreadful weight it is on one's mind always to be keeping secrets." + +"I am very sorry, Phil. As it happens I do know what a secret means. I +am very sorry for you, more particularly as I am just going to add to +your secrets. I want you to promise not to tell any one at Avonsyde +about my little house in the forest nor about me. I think you will keep +my secret when I tell you that if it is known it will do me very grave +injury." + +"I would not injure you," said Phil, raising his sweet eyes to her face. +"I do hate secrets and I find them dreadfully hard to keep, but one more +won't greatly matter, only I do wish you were the real lady of the +forest." + +When Nancy came back to the little cottage after disposing of Phil +comfortably in the chaise and giving the driver a great many emphatic +directions about him, she went straight into her lady's presence. She +was a privileged old servant, and she did not dream of knocking at the +door of the little sitting-room; no, she opened it boldly and came in, +many words crowding to her lips. + +"This will upset her fine," she muttered under her breath. "Oh, dear! +oh, dear! I'll have to do a lot of talking to-night. I'm not one to say +she gives way often, but when she do, why, she do, and that's the long +and short of it." + +Nancy opened the door noisily and entered the room with a world of +purpose depicted on her honest, homely face. + +"Now, ma'am," she began, "I have seen him off as snug and safe as +possible, and the driver promises to deliver him sure as sure into his +mother's arms within the hour. A pretty sort of a mother she must be to +let a bit of a babe like that wander about since before the dawn and +never find him yet. Now, ma'am, you're not settling down to that +needlework at this hour? Oh, and you do look pale! Why, Mrs. Lovel, +what's the use of overdoing it?" + +The lady so addressed raised her sad eyes to the kindly pair looking +down at her and said gently: + +"I am determined to be at least as brave as that brave little boy. He +would not cry, although he longed to. I must either work or cry, so I +choose to work. Nancy, how many yards of the lace are now finished?" + +"Ten, I should think," answered Nancy, whose countenance expressed +strong relief at the turn the conversation had taken. "I should say +there was ten yards done, ma'am, but I will go upstairs and count them +over if you like." + +"I wish you would. If there are ten yards upstairs there are nearly two +here; that makes just the dozen. And you think it is quite the best lace +I have made yet, Nancy?" + +"Oh, ma'am, beautiful is no word; and how your poor eyes stand the fine +work passes my belief. But now, now, where's the hurry for to-night? +Why, your hands do shake terrible. Let me make you a cup of cocoa and +light a fire in your bedroom, and you go to bed nice and early, Mrs. +Lovel." + +Mrs. Lovel threw down her work with a certain gesture of impatience. + +"I should lie awake all night," said Mrs. Lovel. "Do you know, Nancy, +that the little boy spoke of Kitty? He said my baby Kitty often +mentioned the lady of the forest--that he and she both did. At first I +thought that he meant me and that Kitty really spoke of her mother; but +now I believe he was alluding to some imaginary forest lady." + +"The green forest lady," interposed Nancy. "I don't say, ma'am, that +she's altogether a fancy, though. There's them--yes, there's them whose +words may be relied on who are said to have spoke with her." + +"Well, no matter. I am finishing this lace to-night, Nancy, because I +mean to go to London to-morrow." + +"You, ma'am? Oh, oh, and it ain't three months since you were there!" + +"Yes, I must go. I want to see my husband's lawyers. Nancy, this +suspense is killing me!" + +"Oh, my poor, dear, patient lady! But it ain't so many months now to +wait. Miss Rachel's birthday comes in May." + +"Nancy, the mother-hunger is driving me wild. If I could only see them +both and kiss them once I should be satisfied." + +"You shall kiss them hundreds of times when May comes," answered the old +servant. "And they are well and bonny and Miss Rachel loves you; and the +little one, why, of course her heart will go out to you when you hold +her in your arms again." + +"Six years!" repeated the poor lady, clasping her hands, letting the +lovely lace fall to the ground, and gazing into the glowing fire in the +grate. "Six years for a mother to starve! Oh, Nancy, how could good +women be so cruel? I believe Miss Grizel and Miss Katharine are good. +How could they be so cruel?" + +"Old maids!" said Nancy, with a little snort. "Do you suppose, ma'am, +that those old ladies know anything of the mother feel? Well, Mrs. +Lovel, the children are two bonny little lassies, and you have given up +much for them. You did it for their good, ma'am--that they should have +full and plenty and be provided for. You did it all out of real +self-denial, ma'am." + +"I made up my mind the day Kitty fainted for want of food," answered +Mrs. Lovel. "I made up my mind and I never flinched; but oh! Nancy, +think of its being in vain! For, after all, that little boy is the true +heir. He is a dear little fellow, and although I ought to hate him I +can't. He is the true heir; and if so, you know, Nancy, that my little +girls come back to me. How have I really bettered them by giving them +six years of luxury when, after all, they must return to my small life?" + +"And to the best of mothers," answered Nancy. "And to two or three +hundred pounds put by careful; and they hearty and bonny and Miss +Rachel's education half-complete. No, ma'am, they are not worse off, but +a deal better off for what you have done for them--that's if the worst +comes. But how can you say that that little boy will have Avonsyde? Why, +he hasn't no strength in him--not a bit. Thin is no word for him, and +he's as light as a feather, and so white! Why, I carried him in my arms +as far as the Stone, and I didn't feel as if I had nothing in them. Why, +ma'am, all the country round knows that the ladies at Avonsyde are +looking out for a strong heir; they go direct against the will if they +give the old place to a sickly one. No, ma'am, Master Phil Lovel ain't +the heir for Avonsyde. And is it likely, ma'am, that the ladies would be +putting advertisements in all the papers, foreign and otherwise, for the +last five years and a half, and sending over special messengers to the +other side of the globe, and never yet a strong, hearty, real heir turn +up? Why, of course, Mrs. Lovel, he ain't to be found, and that's why he +don't come." + +Mrs. Lovel smiled faintly. + +"Well, Nancy," she said, "I must at least go to town to-morrow, and as +that is the case I will take your advice and go up to my room now. No, I +could not eat anything. Good-night, dear Nancy." + +When Mrs. Lovel left the little sitting-room Nancy stayed behind to give +it a good "redding-up" as she expressed it. With regard to +sitting-rooms, and indeed all rooms arranged for human habitation, Nancy +was a strict disciplinarian; rigid order was her motto. Chairs placed +demurely in rows; a table placed exactly in the middle of the room; +books arranged at symmetrical intervals round it; each ornament +corresponding exactly to its fellow; blinds drawn to a certain +level--these were her ideas of a nice cheerful apartment. Could she have +had her own choice with regard to carpets, she would have had them with +a good dash of orange in them; her curtains should always be made of +moreen and be of a bright cardinal tone. A tidy and a cheerful room was +her delight; she shuddered at the tendencies, so-called artistic, of the +present day. Putting the little sitting-room in order now, her feet +knocked against something which gave forth a metallic sound; stooping, +she picked up from the floor Phil's tankard. She examined it curiously +and brought it to the light. The quaint motto inscribed on one of its +sides--"Tyde what may"--was well known to her as the motto of the house of +Lovel. + +"I know nothing about this old cup," she said to herself; "it may or may +not be of value; but it looks old--uncommon old; and it has the family +coat of arms and them outlandish, meaningless words on it. Of course it +was little Master Phil brought it in to-day and forgot all about it. +Well, well, it may mean something or it may not; but my name ain't Nancy +White if I don't set it by for the present and bide my time about +returning it. Ah, my dear, dear lady, it won't be Nancy's fault if your +bonny little girls don't get their own out of Avonsyde!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV.--THE AUSTRALIANS. + + +Messrs. Baring & Baring, the lawyers who transacted all the business +matters for the Misses Lovel, were much worried about Christmas-time +with clients. The elder Mr. Baring was engaged with a gentleman who had +come from the country to see him on special and urgent business, and in +consequence his son, a bright-looking, intelligent man of thirty, was +obliged to ask two gentlemen to wait in his anteroom or to call again, +while he himself interviewed a sorrowful-looking lady who required +immediate attention. + +The gentlemen decided to wait the younger Mr. Baring's leisure, and in +consequence he was able to attend to his lady client without impatience. + +"The business which brings you to me just before Christmas, Mrs. Lovel, +must be of the utmost importance," he began. + +Mrs. Lovel raised her veil and a look of intense pain filled her eyes. + +"It is of importance to me," she said, "for it means--yes, I greatly fear +it means that my six years of bitter sacrifice have come to nothing and +the heir is found." + +Mr. Baring raised his eyebrows; he did not trouble to inquire to whom +she had alluded. After a brief pause he said quietly: + +"There is no reason whatever for you to despair. At this present moment +my father and I are absolutely aware of two claimants for the Avonsyde +heirship--only one can inherit the place and both may prove unsuitable. +You know that the ladies will not bequeath their property to any one who +cannot prove direct descent from the elder branch; also the heir must be +strong and vigorous. Up to the present neither my father nor I have seen +any conclusive proof of direct succession. We are quite aware that a +little boy of the name of Lovel is at present on a visit at Avonsyde, +but we also know that the Misses Lovel will take no definite steps in +the matter without our sanction. I would not fret beforehand, Mrs. +Lovel. It seems tame and old-fashioned advice, but I should recommend +you for your own sake to hope for the best." + +"I will do so," said Mrs. Lovel, rising to her feet. "I will do so, even +though I can no longer buoy myself up with false dreams. I feel +absolutely convinced that before Rachel's birthday an heir will be found +for the old place. Let it be so--I shall not struggle. It may be best for +my children to come back to me; it will certainly be best for me to have +them with me again. I won't take up any more of your time this morning, +Mr. Baring." + +"Well, come again to-morrow morning. I have got some more work for you +and of quite a profitable kind. By the way, the new claimants--they have +just come from Australia and I am to see them in a moment--are in a +desperate taking about an old tankard which seems to have been a family +heirloom and would go far to prove their descent. The tankard is lost; +also a packet of valuable letters. You see, my dear madam, their claim, +as it stands at present, is anything but complete." + +Mrs. Lovel said a few more words to Mr. Baring, and then promising to +call on the morrow, left him. To effect her exit from the house she had +to pass through the room where the Australians were waiting. Her +interview had excited her; her pale face was slightly flushed; her veil +was up. Perhaps the slight color on those usually pale cheeks had +brought back some of the old and long-forgotten girlish bloom. The +winter's day was sunshiny, and as she walked through the waiting-room +the intense light throwing her features into strong relief, so strongly +and so vividly did that slight and rather worn figure stand out that a +man who had been sitting quietly by started forward with an exclamation: + +"Surely I am addressing Rachel Cunningdale?" + +The lady raised her eyes to the great, strong, bearded face. + +"You are Rupert Lovel," she answered quietly. + +"I am, and this is my boy. Here, Rupert, lad, this lady was once your +mother's greatest friend. Why, Rachel, it is twenty years since we met. +You were scarcely grown up and such a bright bit of a girl, and now----" + +"And now," answered Mrs. Lovel, "I have been a wife and a mother. I am +now a widow and, I may say it, childless; and, Rupert, the strangest +part of all, my name too is Lovel." + +"What a queer coincidence. Well, I am delighted to meet you. Where are +you staying? My boy and I have just come over from Australia, and your +friend, my dear wife, she is gone, Rachel. It was an awful blow; we +won't speak of it. I should like to see more of you. Where shall we +meet?" + +Mrs. Lovel gave the address of the very humble lodgings which she +occupied when in London. + +"The boy and I will look you up, then, this evening. I fear our time now +belongs to the lawyer. Good-by--good-by. I am delighted to have met you." + +Mr. Baring prided himself on being an astute reader of character, but +even he was somewhat amazed when these fresh claimants for the Avonsyde +property occupied quite half an hour of his valuable time by asking him +numerous and sundry questions with regard to that pale and somewhat +insignificant client of his, Mrs. Lovel. Mr. Baring was a cautious man, +and he let out as little as he could; but the Lovels, both father and +son, were furnished with at least a few clews to a very painful story. +So excited and interested was Rupert Lovel, senior, that he even forgot +the important business that had brought him all the way from Australia, +and the lawyer had himself gently to divert his client's thoughts into +the necessary channel. + +Finally the father and son left the Barings' office a good deal +perturbed and excited and with no very definite information to guide +them. + +"Look here, Rupert, lad," said the elder Lovel. "It's about the saddest +thing in all the world, that poor soul depriving herself of her children +and then hoping against hope that the heir won't turn up. Why, of +course, lad, you are the heir; not a doubt of that. Poor Rachel! and she +was your mother's friend." + +"But we won't set up our claim until we are certain about +everything--will we, father?" asked young Lovel. "Did you not hear Mr. +Baring say that many false heirs had laid claim to Avonsyde? The old +ladies want some one who can prove his descent, and we have not got all +the papers--have we, father?" + +"No. It is an extraordinary thing about those letters being lost, and +also the old tankard. But they are safe to turn up. Who could have +stolen them? Perhaps Gabrielle has already written with news of their +safety. We might have a cab now to the General Post-office. I have no +doubt a budget of letters awaits me there. Why, Rupert, what are you +looking so melancholy about? The tankard and the letters may even now be +found. What's the matter, lad? It doesn't do for a hearty young chap +like you to wear such a dismal face. I tell you your claim is as good as +established." + +"But I don't know that I want it to be established," said young Rupert +Lovel. "It is not nice to think of breaking that lady's heart. I don't +know what Gabrielle would say to doing anything so cruel to our mother's +friend." + +"Tut, lad, what a lot of rubbish you talk! If you are the heir you are, +and you can't shirk your responsibility, even if you don't quite like +it. Well, we'll have a long talk with Rachel and get to the bottom of +everything to-night." + + * * * * * + +"And now, Rachel, you must just confide in me and make me your friend. +Oh, nonsense! Were you not my wife's friend? and don't I remember you a +bit of a bonny lass, as young, quite as young as Rupert here? I have got +two young daughters of my own, and don't you suppose I feel for a woman +who is the mother of girls? You tell me your whole story, Rachel. How is +it that you, who have married a Lovel of Avonsyde, should be practically +shut away from the house and unrecognized by the family? When I met you +last in Melbourne you looked free enough from cares, and your father was +fairly well off. You were just starting for Europe--don't you remember? +Now tell me your history from that day forward." + +"With the exception of my old servant, Nancy, I have not given my +confidence to any human being for years," answered Mrs. Lovel. Then she +paused. "Yes, I will trust you, Rupert, and my story can be told in a +few words; but first satisfy me about one thing. When I was at Mr. +Baring's to-day he told me that a fresh claimant had appeared on the +scene for the Avonsyde property. Is your boy the claimant?" + +"He is, Rachel. We will go into that presently." + +Mrs. Lovel sighed. + +"It is so hard not to welcome you," she said, "but you destroy my hopes. +However, listen to my tale. I will just tell it to you as briefly as +possible. Shortly after we came to England my father died. He was not +well off, as we supposed; he died heavily in debt and I was penniless. I +was not sufficiently highly educated to earn my bread as a teacher--as a +teacher I should have starved; but I had a taste for millinery and I got +employment in a milliner's shop in a good part of London. I stayed in +that shop for about a year. At the end of that time I married Valentine +Lovel. We had very little money, but we were perfectly happy; and even +though Valentine's people refused to acknowledge me, their indifference +during my dear husband's lifetime did not take an iota from my +happiness. Two babies were born, both little girls. I know Valentine +longed for a son, and often said that the birth of a boy would most +probably lead to a reconciliation with his father. No son, however, +arrived, and my dear husband died of consumption when my eldest little +girl was five years old. I won't dwell on his death, nor on one or two +agonized letters which he wrote to his hard old father. He died without +one token of reconciliation coming to cheer him from Avonsyde; and when +I laid him in the grave I can only say that I think my heart had grown +hard against all the world. + +"I had the children to live for, and it is literally true that I had no +time to sit down and cry for Valentine's loss. The little girls had a +faithful nurse; her name was Nancy White; she is with me still. She took +care of my dear, beautiful babies while I earned money to put bread in +all our mouths. I had literally not a penny in the world except what I +could earn, for the allowance Valentine had always received from his +father was discontinued at his death. I went back to the shop where I +had worked as a milliner before my marriage; there happened to be a +vacancy, and they were good enough to take me back. Of course we were +fearfully poor and lived in wretched lodgings; but however much Nancy +and I denied ourselves, the children wanted for nothing. They were +lovely children--uncommon. Any one could see that they had come of a +proud old race. The eldest girl was called after her father and me; she +was not like Valentine in appearance, neither did she resemble me. I am +dark, but Rachel's eyes were of the deepest, darkest brown; her hair was +black as night and her complexion a deep, glowing rosy brown. She was a +splendid creature; so large, so noble-looking--not like either of us; but +with a look--yes, Rupert, with a look of that boy of yours. Kitty +resembled her father and was a delicate, lovely, ethereal little +creature; she was as fair as Rachel was dark, but she was not strong, +and I often feared she inherited some of Valentine's delicacy. + +"For two years I worked for the children and supported them. For a year +and a half all went fairly well. But then I caught cold; for a time I +was ill--too ill to work--and my situation at the milliner's shop was +quickly filled up. I had a watch and a few valuable rings and trinkets +which Valentine had given me. I sold them one by one and we lived on the +little money they fetched. But the children were only half-fed, and one +wretched day of a hot and stifling July Kitty fainted away quietly in my +arms. That decided me. I made up my mind on the spot. I had a diamond +ring, the most valuable of all my jewels, and the one I cared for most, +for Valentine had given it me on our engagement. I took it out and sold +it. I was fortunate; I got L10 for it. I hurried off at once and bought +material, and made up with Nancy's help lovely and picturesque dresses +for both the children. I believe I had a correct eye for color, and I +dressed Rachel in rich dark plush with lace, but Kitty was all in white. +When the clothes were complete I put them on, and Nancy kissed the pets +and fetched a cab for me, and we drove away to Waterloo. I had so little +money left that I could only afford third-class tickets, but I took them +to Lyndhurst Road, and when we arrived there drove straight to Avonsyde. +The children were as excited and pleased as possible. They knew nothing +of any coming parting, and were only anxious to see their grandfather +and the house which their father had so often spoken to them about. They +were children who had never been scolded; no harsh words had ever been +addressed to them, consequently they knew nothing of fear. When they got +into the lovely old place they were wild with delight. 'Kitty,' said +Rachel, 'let us go and find our grandfather.' Before I could restrain +them they were off; but indeed I had no wish to hinder them, for I felt +sure they would plead their own cause best. We had arrived at a critical +moment, for that was the last day of the old squire's life. I saw his +daughters--my sisters-in-law. We had a private interview and made terms +with one another. These were the terms: The ladies of Avonsyde would +take my darlings and care for them and educate them, and be, as they +expressed it, 'mothers' to them, on condition that I gave them up. I +said I would not give them up absolutely. I told the ladies quite +plainly why I brought them at all. I said it was out of no love or +respect for the cruel grandfather who had disowned them; it was out of +no love or respect for the sisters, who did not care what became of +their brother's children: it was simply and entirely out of my great +mother-love for the children themselves. I would rather part with them +than see them starve or suffer. 'But,' I added, 'there are limits even +to my self-denial. I will not give them up forever. Name the term of +years, but there must be a limit to the parting.' + +"Then Miss Katharine, who seemed kinder-hearted than her sister, gave me +one or two compassionate glances, and even said, 'Poor thing!' once or +twice under her breath. + +"I did not take the slightest notice of her. I repeated again, more +distinctly: 'The parting must have a limit; name a term of years.' Then +the ladies decided that on Rachel's thirteenth birthday--she was just +seven then--I should come back to Avonsyde, and if I so wished and my +little girls so wished I should have one or both of them back again. The +ladies told me at the same time of their father's will. They said that a +most vigorous search was going to be commenced at once for an heir of +the elder branch. At the same time they both stated their conviction +that no such heir would be forthcoming, for they said that no trace or +tidings had been heard of Rupert Lovel from the day, nearly two hundred +years ago, when he left Avonsyde. Their conviction was that Rupert had +died without descendants. In that case, both the ladies said, the little +girls must inherit the property; and Miss Griselda said further that she +would try to make arrangements with her father to so alter his will that +if no heir had been found on Rachel's thirteenth birthday, Valentine's +children should have a life-interest in Avonsyde. If, on the other hand, +the heir was found before that date, they would also be provided for, +although she did not mention how. + +"These arrangements satisfied me. They were the best terms I could make, +and I went away without bidding either of my children good-by. I could +bear a great deal, but that parting I could not have endured. I went +back to London and to Nancy, and in a week's time I heard from Miss +Lovel. She told me that her father was dead, but that the necessary +codicil had been added to the will, and that if no heir appeared before +Rachel's thirteenth birthday my children would have a life-interest in +the place, and they themselves would be bound over to go on with the +search. Miss Lovel further added that in any case the children should be +educated and cared for in the best possible manner. + +"Those were the entire contents of her letter. She sent me no message +from my darlings, and from that hour to this I have never heard from +her. From that hour, too, my terrible, terrible heart-hunger began. No +one knows what I suffered, what I suffer for want of the children. Were +the sacrifice to be made again, I don't think I could go through it, and +yet God only knows. For two or three years I made a very scanty +livelihood; then I was fortunate enough to invent a certain +showy-looking lace. I could make my own patterns and do it very quickly +by hand. To my great surprise it took, and from that hour I have had +more orders than I can execute. My wants are very few and I have even +saved money: I have over L400 put away. My dream of dreams is to have my +children back with me--that is my selfish dream. Of course it will be +best for them to be rich and to have the old place, but in any case I +will not consent to so absolute a separation as now exists between us. A +year ago a gentleman and his wife who had been kind to me, although they +knew nothing of my story, asked me if I would like to take charge of a +little cottage of theirs in the New Forest. It is a tiny place, +apparently lost in underwood and bracken, which they themselves occupy +for a fortnight or so in the course of the year. The temptation was too +great. I accepted the offer, and since then I have lived, so to speak, +on the threshold of the children's home. One day I saw Rachel. Well, I +must not dwell on that. I did not speak to her. I fled from her, +although she is my first-born child. It is now December. May will come +by and by, and then the greatness of my trouble will be over." + +Mrs. Lovel paused. The Australians, father and son, had listened with +breathless interest to her words. + +"I don't want to take the property from your children," said young +Rupert, with passion. "After what you have said and suffered, I hate to +be heir of Avonsyde." + +"I forgot to mention," continued Mrs. Lovel, "that a little boy is now +at Avonsyde of the name of Philip who is supposed to be the real heir. +He is a little pale-faced boy with beautiful eyes and a very winning +manner, and it is reported that the old ladies have both lost their +hearts to him. I cannot say that I think he looks strong, but he is a +dear little boy." + +"That must be our Phil," said young Rupert, speaking with great +interest. "Of course, father that explains his queer letter to me. Poor +dear little Phil!" + +"Just like his mother," growled the elder Lovel. "A mischievous, +interfering, muddle-headed woman, sure to put her foot in a thing and +safe to make mischief. Forgive me, Rachel, but I feel strongly about +this. Has the boy got a mother with him?" + +"Yes." + +"You are right then, Rupert. It is your Cousin Phil. Poor little chap! +he has no voice in the matter, I am sure. What a meddlesome woman that +mother of his is! Well, Rachel, my boy and I will say good-night now. +These revelations have pained and bewildered me. I must sleep over all +this news. Don't leave London until you hear from me. I think you may +trust me, and--God bless you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV.--WAS HE ACTING? + + +"I can't help it, Kitty; you really must not ask me. I'm a very much +puzzled boy. I'm--I'm--Kitty, did you ever have to pull yourself up short +just when you wanted to say something most interesting? I'm always +pulling myself up short, and I'm dreadfully, dreadfully tired of it." + +"It must be something like giving a sudden jerk to one of our ponies," +said Kitty. "I know--it must be a horrid feeling. Does it set your teeth +on edge, Phil, and do you quite tremble with impatience?" + +"Yes," said Phil, throwing himself full length on the floor of the old +armory, where he and Kitty had ensconced themselves on a pouring wet day +early in the month of February. "Yes, Kitty, if feeling very unpleasant +all over means setting your teeth on edge, I do know it. I'm a little +boy with lots of secrets, and I never can tell them, not to you nor to +anybody at Avonsyde--no, not to anybody. I'll get accustomed to it in +time, but I don't like it, for naturally I'm the kind of boy who can't +keep a secret.' + +"What a horrid man you'll grow up!" said Kitty, eying her cousin with +marked disapproval. "You'll be so reserved and cross-grained and +disagreeable. You'll have been pulled up short so often that you'll look +jerky. Oh, dear me, Phil, I wouldn't be you for a great deal!" + +"I wouldn't be myself if I could help it," said Phil, with a sigh which +he tried hard to smother. "Oh, I say, Kitty-cat, will you coax Aunt +Grizel to take us into Southampton soon? I am quite certain my letter +must be waiting for me. You don't know, Kitty, you can't possibly guess +what a letter from his dearest friend means to a rather lonely kind of +boy like me." + +"You had better ask Aunt Grizel yourself," answered Kitty, with a little +pout and a little frown. "She's so fond of you, Phil, that she'll do it. +She'll take you to Southampton if you coax her and if you put on that +funny kind of sad look in your eyes. It's the kind of look our spaniel +puts on, and I never can say 'No' to him when he has it. I don't know +how you do it, Phil, nor why you do it; but you have a very sorry look +in your eyes when you like. Is it because you're always and always +missing your dearest friend?" + +"It's partly that," answered Phil. "Oh, you don't know what he's like, +Kitty! He's most splendid. He has got such a grand figure, and he walks +in such a manly way, and his eyes are as dark and wonderful-looking as +Rachel's, and--and--oh, Kitty, was I telling you anything? Please forget +that I said anything at all; please don't remember on any account +whatever that I have got a dearest friend!" + +"I think you are perfectly horrid!" said Kitty, stamping her foot. "Just +the minute we begin talking about anything interesting you give one of +those jerks, just as if you had a cruel rider on your back. I can't +think what it all means. If you have a dearest friend, there's no harm +in it; and if you had a Betty to take care of you, there's no harm in +that; and if you lived in a cottage in a plantation, that isn't a sin; +and if you did go into the forest to meet the lady, and you didn't meet +her, although you were nearly swallowed up by a bog, why--why--what's the +matter, Phil? How white you are!" + +"Nothing," said Phil, suddenly pressing his face down on the cushion +against which he was lying--"nothing--Kit--I--" He uttered one or two +groans. "Fetch me a little water, please!" + +The child's face had suddenly become livid. He clinched his hands and +pressed them against his temples, and buried that poor little drawn, +piteous face further and deeper into the soft cushion. At last the +paroxysm of pain passed; he panted, raised himself slowly, and struggled +to his feet. + +"Kitty!" + +But Kitty was gone. Terrified, the little girl ran through the hall. The +first person she met was Mrs. Lovel, who, dressed gracefully in a soft +black silk, trimmed with lace, was walking languidly in the direction of +the great drawing-room. + +"You had better come!" said Kitty, rushing up to her and seizing her +hand. "Phil is very dreadfully ill. I think Phil will die. He's in the +armory. Come at once!" + +Without waiting for the lady's answer, little Kitty turned on her heel +and flew back the way she had come. Phil had scarcely time to struggle +to his feet, scarcely time to notice her absence, before she was back +again at his side. Putting her arms around his neck, she covered his +face with passionate kisses. + +"Phil, Phil, I was so frightened about you! Are you better? Do say you +are better. Oh, I love you so much, and I won't be jealous, even if you +have got a dearest friend!" + +Phil could stand, but the sudden attack he had passed through was so +sharp that words could scarcely come to his lips. Kitty's embrace almost +overpowered him, but he was so innately unselfish that he would not +struggle to free himself, fearing to pain her. + +His mother's step was heard approaching. He made a great effort to stand +upright and formed his little lips into a voiceless whistle. + +"Why, Phil, you have been overtiring yourself," said Mrs. Lovel. "Oh, +Kitty, how you have exaggerated! Phil does not look at all bad. I +suppose you were both romping, and never ceased until you lost your +breath; or you were having one of your pretense games, and Phil thought +he would frighten you by making out he was ill. Ah, Phil, Phil, what an +actor you are! Now, my dear boy, I want you to come up to your bedroom +with me. I want to consult you about one or two matters. Fancy, Kitty, a +mother consulting her little boy! Ought not Phil to be proud? But he is +really such a strong, brave little man that I cannot help leaning on +him. It was really unkind of you to pretend that time, Phil, and to give +little Kitty such a fright." + +Phil's beautiful brown eyes were raised to his mother's face; then they +glanced at Kitty; then a smile--a very sorry smile Kitty considered +it--filled them, and giving his little thin hand to his mother, he walked +out of the armory by her side. + +Kitty lingered for a moment in the room which her companion had +deserted; then she dashed away across the brightly lit hall, through +several cozy and cheery apartments, until she came to a room brilliant +with firelight and lamplight, where Rachel lay at her ease in a deep +arm-chair with a fairy story open on her knee. + +"Phil is the best actor in all the world, Rachel!" she exclaimed. "He +turned as white as a sheet just now. He turned gray, and he groaned most +awfully, and he wouldn't speak, and I thought he was dying, and I flew +for some one, and I found Mrs. Lovel, and she came back to Phil, and she +laughed, and said there was nothing the matter, and that Phil was only +acting. Isn't it wonderful, Rachel, that Phil can turn pale when he +likes, and groan in such a terrible way? Oh, it made me shiver to see +him! I do hope he won't act being ill again." + +"He didn't act," said Rachel in a contemptuous voice; "that's what his +mother said. I wouldn't have her for a mother for a great deal. I'd +rather have no mother. Poor little Phil didn't act. Don't talk nonsense, +Kitty." + +"Then if he didn't act he must be very ill," said Kitty. Then, her blue +eyes filling with tears, she added: "I do love him so! I love him even +though he has a dearest friend." + +Rachel stretched out her hand and drew Kitty into a corner of her own +luxurious chair. She had not seen Phil, and Kitty's account of him +scarcely made her uneasy. + +"Even if he was a little ill, he's all right now," she said. "Stay with +me, Kitty-cat; I scarcely ever see you. I think Phil is quite your +dearest friend." + +"Quite," answered Kitty solemnly. "I love him better than any one, +except you, Rachel; only I do wish--yes, I do--that he had not so many +secrets." + +"He never told you what happened to him that day in the forest, did he, +Kitty?" + +"Oh, no; he pulled himself up short. He was often going to, but he +always pulled himself up. What a dreadfully jerky man he'll grow up, +Rachel." + +"He never quite told you?" continued Rachel. "Well, I don't want him to +tell me, for I know." + +"Rachel!" + +"Yes, I know all about it. I'm going to see him presently, and I'll tell +him that I know his secret. Now, Kitty, you need not stare at me, for +I'm never going to breathe it to any one except to Phil himself. There, +Kit, the dressing-gong has sounded; we must go and get ready for +supper." + +Meanwhile Mrs. Lovel, taking Phil's hand, had led him out of the armory +and to the foot of the winding stone stairs. Once there she paused. The +look of placid indifference left her face; she dropped the smiling mask +she had worn in Kitty's presence, and stooping down lifted the boy into +her arms and carried him tenderly up the winding stairs, never pausing +nor faltering nor groaning under his weight. When they reached the tower +bedroom she laid him on his little bed, and going to a cupboard in the +wall unlocked it and took from thence a small bottle; she poured a few +drops from the bottle into a spoon and put the restorative between the +boy's blue lips. He swallowed it eagerly, smiled, shook himself, and sat +up in bed. + +"Thank you, mother. I am much better now," he said affectionately. + +Mrs. Lovel locked the door, stirred the fire in the old-fashioned grate +into a cheerful blaze, lit two or three candles, drew the heavy curtains +across the windows, and then dragging a deep arm-chair opposite the +glowing hearth, she lifted Phil again into her arms, and sitting down in +the comfortable seat, rocked him passionately to her breast. + +"My boy, my boy, was it very bad, very awful?" + +"Yes, mother; but it's all right now." + +"Did Kitty hear you groan, Phil?" + +"Yes, mother; but not the loudest groans, for I buried my head in the +cushion. I'm all right now, mother. I can go down again in a minute or +two." + +"No, Phil, you shan't go down to-night. I'll manage it with the old +ladies; and Phil, darling, darling, we have almost won; you won't have +to pretend anything much longer. On the 5th of May, on Rachel's +birthday, you are to be proclaimed the heir. This is the middle of +February; you have only a little more than two months to keep it all up, +Phil." + +"Oh, yes, mother, it's very difficult, and the pain in my side gets +worse, and I don't want it, and I'd rather Rupert had it; but never +mind, mammy, you shan't starve." + +He stroked his mother's cheek with his little hand, and she rocked him +in her arms in an ecstasy of love and fear and longing. At that moment +she loved the boy better than the gold. She would have given up all +dreams of ease and comfort for herself if she could have secured real +health for that most precious little life. + +"Mother," said Phil, "I do want to go to Southampton so badly." + +"What for, dearest?" + +"Because I'm expecting a letter, mother, from Rupert. No, no, don't +frown! I can't bear to see you frown. I didn't tell him anything, but I +wrote to him, and I asked him to send his answer to the post-office at +Southampton, and it must be waiting there now; yes, it must, and I do +want to fetch it so dreadfully. Can you manage that I shall go, mother?" + +"I'll go for it myself, dear; I'll go to-morrow. There--doesn't mother +love her boy? Yes, I'll go for the letter to Southampton to-morrow. +There's the supper-gong, Phil. I must go down, but you shan't. I'll +bring you up something nice to eat presently." + +"Oh, no, please; I couldn't eat. Just let me lie on my bed quite still +without talking. Mother, my darling mother, how can I thank you for +promising to fetch Rupert's letter?" + +Mrs. Lovel laid Phil back on his bed, covered him up warmly, and softly +unlocking the door went downstairs. + +She had got a shock, a greater shock than she cared to own; but when she +entered the long, low, old-fashioned dining-hall where Miss Griselda and +Miss Katharine and the two little girls awaited her, her face was +smiling and careless as usual. The poor, weak-minded, and bewildered +woman had resumed her mask, and no one knew with what an aching heart +she sat down to her luxurious meal. + +"Is Phil still pretending to be very, very dreadfully ill?" called out +Kitty across the table. + +Miss Griselda started at Kitty's words, looked anxiously at Mrs. Lovel +and at a vacant chair, and spoke. + +"Is your boy not well? Is he not coming to supper?" she inquired. + +"Phil strained himself a little," answered Mrs. Lovel, "and he had quite +a sharp pain in his side--only muscular, I assure you, dear Miss +Griselda; nothing to make one the least bit uneasy, but I thought it +better to keep him upstairs. He is going to bed early and won't come +down again to-night. May I take him up a little supper presently?" + +"Poor boy! he must be ravenously hungry," said Miss Griselda in a +careless tone. "Strained his side? Dear, dear! children are always +hurting themselves. I wanted him to go with me early to-morrow to +collect mosses. I intend to drive the light cart myself into the forest, +and I meant to take Phil and Kitty with me. Phil is so clever at finding +them." + +"Oh, he's very strong. He'll be quite ready to go with you, Miss +Griselda," answered the little boy's mother; but she bent her head as +she spoke, and no one saw how pale her face was. + +The meal proceeded somewhat drearily. Kitty was out of spirits at the +loss of her favorite companion; Rachel's little face looked scarcely +childish, so intensely watchful was its expression; Mrs. Lovel wore her +smiling mask; and the two old ladies alone were perfectly tranquil and +indifferent. + +"May I take Phil up some supper?" suddenly asked Rachel. + +Mrs. Lovel suppressed a quick sigh, sat down again in her seat, for she +was just rising to go back to Phil, and almost ran her nails into her +hands under the table in her efforts to keep down all symptoms of +impatience. + +"Thank you, dear," said Miss Griselda gratefully. "If you go up to Phil +his mother need not trouble herself about him until bedtime. We will +adjourn to the drawing-room, if you please, Mrs. Lovel. I am anxious to +have another lesson in that new kind of crochet. Katharine, will you +give Rachel some supper to take up to Phil?--plenty of supper, please, +dear; he's a hearty boy and ought to have abundance to eat." + +Miss Katharine smiled, cut a generous slice of cold roast beef, and +piled two mince-pies and a cheese-cake on another plate. When she had +added to these a large glass of cold milk and some bread-and-butter, she +gave the tray to Rachel, and bidding her be careful not to spill her +load, took Kitty's hand and went with her into the drawing-room. + +Rachel carried her tray carefully as far as the foot of the winding +stairs; then looking eagerly up and down and to right and left, she +suddenly wheeled round and marched off through many underground and +badly lit passages, until she found herself in the neighborhood of the +great old-fashioned kitchen. Here she was met not by the cook, but by +Mrs. Newbolt, the lady's-maid. + +"Oh, Newbolt, you'll do what I want. Phil is ill, and his mother doesn't +want any one to know about it. Take all this horrid mess away and give +me some strong, strong, beautiful beef tea and a nice little piece of +toast. I'll wait here, and you won't be long, will you, dear Newbolt?" + +Newbolt loved Phil and detested his mother. With a sudden snort she +caught up Rachel's tray, and returned presently with a tempting little +meal suited to an invalid. + +"If the child is ill I'll come up with you to see him, Miss Rachel," she +said. + +Phil was lying on his back; his eyes were shut; his face looked very +pinched and blue. True, however, to the little Spartan that he was, when +he heard Rachel's step he started up and smiled and welcomed her in a +small but very cheery voice. + +"Thank you for coming to see me," he said, "but I didn't want any +supper; I told mother so. Oh, what is that--white soup? I do like white +soup. And oysters? Yes, I can eat two or three oysters. How very kind +you are, Rachel. I begin to feel quite hungry, that supper looks so +nice." + +Rachel carried the tempting little tray herself, but behind her came +Newbolt, whom Phil now perceived for the first time. + +"Have you come up to see me, Newbolt?" he said. "But I am not at all +ill. I happened to get tired, and mother said I must rest here." + +"The best place for a tired little boy to rest is in his bed, not on +it," said Newbolt. "If you please. Master Phil, I am going to put you +into bed, and then Miss Rachel shall feed you with this nice supper. Oh, +yes, sir, we know you're not the least bit ill--oh, no, not the least bit +in the world; but we are going to treat you as if you were, all the +same." + +Phil smiled and looked up at Newbolt as if he would read her innermost +thoughts. He was only too glad to accept her kind services, and quite +sighed with relief when she laid him comfortably on his pillows. Newbolt +wrapped a little red dressing-jacket over his shoulders, and then poking +the fire vigorously and seeing that the queer old tower room looked as +cheerful as possible, she left the two children together. Rachel and +Phil made very merry over his supper, and Phil almost forgot that he had +been feeling one of the most forsaken and miserable little boys in the +world half an hour ago. Rachel had developed quite a nice little amount +of tact, and she by no means worried Phil with questions as to whether +his illness was real or feigned. But when he really smiled, and the +color came back to his cheeks, and his laugh sounded strong and merry +once more, she could not help saying abruptly: + +"Phil, I have been wanting to see you by yourself for some time. I +cannot tell Kitty, for Kitty is not to know; but, Phil, what happened to +you that day in the forest is no secret to me." + +Phil opened his eyes very wide. + +"What do you mean, Rachel?" he asked. "No, Rachel, you cannot guess it, +for I never, never even whispered about that secret." + +Rachel's face had turned quite pale and her voice was trembling. + +"Shall I whisper it back to you now?" she said. "Shall I tell you where +you went? You did not meet the myth lady--I begin really to be almost +sure she is only a myth lady--but you did meet a lady. She was in gray +and she had the saddest face in the world; and oh, Phil, she took you +home--she took you home!" + +"Why, Rachel," said little Phil again, "you look just as if you were +going to cry. How is it you found all this out? And why does it make you +so sorrowful?" + +"Oh, I want her," said Rachel, trembling and half-sobbing. "I want her +so badly. I long for her more than anything. I saw her once and I have +not been quite happy since. She never took me inside her house. Phil, I +am jealous of you. Phil, I want to hear all about her." + +"I'm so glad you know," said Phil in cheerful tones. "I was told not to +tell. I was told to keep it another secret; but if you found it out, or +rather if you always knew about it, why, of course you and I can talk +together about her. You don't know how nice it will be to me to be able +to talk to you about one of my secrets. My dearest friend secret, and +the Betty secret, and the little house at the back of the garden secret +I must never, never speak of; and the secret about my being a very, very +strong boy--that I mustn't talk about; but you and I can chatter about +the lady of the forest, Rachel. Oh, what a comfort it is!" + +"It will be a great comfort to me too," answered Rachel. "Let's begin at +once. Tell me every single thing about her. What did she wear? How did +she speak? Had she my ring on her finger?" + +Phil smiled and launched forth into a long and minute narrative. Not a +single detail would sharp little Rachel allow him to omit. Whenever his +memory was in danger of flagging she prodded it with vehemence, until at +last even her most rapacious longing was satisfied. When Phil had quite +exhausted all his narrative she breathed a deep sigh and said again: + +"I envy you, Phil. You have been inside her house and she has kissed +you." + +"She was a very nice and kind lady," concluded Phil, "and she was very +good to me; but all the same, Rachel, I would rather see that other +lady--the lady in green with the lovely face who comes with a gift." + +"Perhaps she's only a myth," said Rachel. + +"Please, Rachel, don't say so. I want the bag of gold so badly." + +Rachel stared and laughed. + +"I never thought you were greedy, Phil," she said. "I cannot think, what +a little boy like you can want with a bag of gold." + +"That's my secret," said Phil, half-closing his eyes and again turning +very pale. "A great many people would be happier if I had that bag of +gold. Rachel," he added, "I do trust I may one day see the lady. I went +to look for her that day in the forest; I went miles and miles to find +her, but I didn't, and I was nearly drowned in a bog." + +"It is not a bit necessary to go into the forest to see her," answered +Rachel; "she might come to you here, in this very room. You know this is +the very oldest part of the house. This part of Avonsyde is quite +steeped in romance, and I dare say the lady has been here once or +twice--that is, of course, if she isn't a myth. There is an old diary of +one of our ancestors in the library, and I have coaxed Aunt Griselda now +and then to let me read in it. One day I read an account of the lady; it +was then I found out about her green dress and her lovely face. The +diary said she was 'passing fair,' and those who looked on her were +beautiful ever afterward. She showed herself but seldom, but would come +now and then for a brief half-minute of time to the fairest and the best +and to those who were to die young." + +"Rachel," said little Phil, "just before you came up that time I was +lying with my eyes shut, and I was thinking of the beautiful lady, and I +almost thought I saw her. I should be happy if she came to me." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI.--LOST. + + +Phil's mother was in every sense a weak woman. She was not strong enough +to be either very good or very bad; she had a certain amount of daring, +but she had not sufficient courage to dare with success. She had a good +deal of the stubbornness which sometimes accompanies weak characters, +and when she deliberately set her heart on any given thing, she could be +even cruel in her endeavors to bring this thing to pass. Her husband and +the elder Rupert Lovel, of Belmont, near Melbourne, were brothers. Both +strong and brave men, they had married differently. Rupert's wife had in +all particulars been a helpmeet to him; she had brought up his children +to be brave and strong and honorable. She suffered much, for she was a +confirmed invalid for many years before her death; but her spirit was so +strong, so sweet, so noble, that not only her husband and children, but +outsiders--all, in fact, who knew her--leaned on her, asked eagerly for +her counsel, and were invariably the better when they followed her +advice. Philip Lovel's wife was not a helpmeet to him; she was weak, +exacting, jealous, and extravagant. She was the kind of woman whom a +strong man out of his very pity would be good to, would pet and humor +even more than was good for her. Philip was killed suddenly in a railway +accident, and his widow was left very desolate and very poor. Her boy +was then five years old--a precocious little creature, who from the +moment of his father's death took upon himself the no light office of +being his mother's comforter. He had a curious way even from the very +first of putting himself aside and considering her. Without being told, +he would stop his noisy games at her approach and sit for an hour at a +time with his little hand clasped in hers, while he leaned his soft +cheek against her gown and was happy in the knowledge that he afforded +her consolation. To see him thus one would have supposed him almost +deficient in manly attributes; but this was not so. His gentleness and +consideration came of his strength; the child was as strong in mental +fiber as the mother was weak. In the company of his brave Cousin Rupert +no merrier or gayer little fellow could have been found. His courage and +powers of endurance were simply marvelous. Poor little Phil! that +courageous spirit of his was to be tested in no easy school. Soon after +his sixth birthday those mysterious attacks of pain came on which the +doctor in Melbourne, without assigning any special cause for their +occurrence, briefly spoke of as dangerous. Phil was eight years old when +his mother's great temptation came to her. She saw an English newspaper +which contained the advertisement for the Avonsyde heir. Her husband had +often spoken to her about the old family place in the home country. She +had loved to listen to his tales, handed down to him orally from his +ancestors. She had sighed, and groaned too, over his narratives, and had +said openly that to be mistress of such an old ancestral home was her +ideal of paradise. Philip, a busy and active man, spent no time over +vain regrets; practically he and his elder brother, Rupert, forgot the +existence of the English home. + +Rupert had made a comfortable fortune for himself in the land of his +adoption, and Philip too would have been rich some day if he had lived. +Mrs. Lovel, a discontented widow, saw the tempting advertisement, and +quickly and desperately she made her plans. Her little son was +undoubtedly a lineal descendant of the disinherited Rupert Lovel, but +also, and alas! he was not strong. In body at least he was a fragile and +most delicate boy. Mrs. Lovel knew that if the ladies of Avonsyde once +saw the beautiful and brave young Rupert, Phil's chance would be +nowhere. She trusted that Rupert Lovel the elder would not see the +advertisement. She sold her little cottage, realized all the money she +could, and without telling any one of her plans, started with her boy +for England. Before she left she did one thing more: she made a secret +visit to Belmont, and under the pretext of wishing to see her +sister-in-law, sat with her while she slept, and during that sleep +managed to abstract from the cupboard behind her bed the old silver +tankard and a packet of valuable letters. These letters gave the +necessary evidence as to the genuineness of the boy's descent and the +tankard spoke for itself. + +Mrs. Lovel started for England, and during her long voyage she taught +Phil his lesson. He was to forget the past and he was to do his very +utmost to appear a strong boy. She arrived at Avonsyde, was kindly +welcomed, and day after day, month after month, her hopes grew great and +her fears little. Phil played his part to perfection--so his mother +said--not recognizing the fact that it was something in the boy himself, +something quite beyond and apart from his physical strength, which threw +a sweet glamour over those who were with him, causing them to forget the +plainness of his face and see only the wonderful beauty of the soul +which looked through the lovely eyes, causing them to cease to notice +how fragile was the little frame which yet was so lithe and active, +causing them never to observe how tired those small feet grew, and yet +how willingly they ran in grateful and affectionate service for each and +all. Cold-hearted, cold-natured Miss Griselda was touched and softened +as she had never been before by any mortal. She scarcely cared to have +the boy out of her sight; she petted him much; she loved him well. + +Mrs. Lovel hoped and longed. If once Rachel's birthday could be passed, +all would be well. When the ladies appointed Phil as their heir, he was +their heir forever. Surely nothing would occur to interfere with her +darling projects during the short period which must elapse between the +present time and that eventful day two months hence. + +As Mrs. Lovel grew more hopeful her manner lost much of its nervous +affectation. In no society could she appear as a well-educated and +well-read woman, but on the surface she was extremely good-natured, and +in one particular she won on the old ladies of Avonsyde. She was +practiced in all the small arts of fancy needlework. She could knit; she +could crochet; she could tat; she could embroider conventional flowers +in crewels. The Misses Lovel detested crewel-work, but Miss Katharine +was very fond of knitting and Miss Griselda affected to tolerate +crochet. Each night, as the three ladies sat in the smaller of the large +drawing-rooms, the crochet and the knitting came into play; and when +Mrs. Lovel ventured to instruct in new stitches and new patterns, she +found favor in the eyes of the two old ladies. + +On the night of Phil's illness the poor woman sat down with an inward +groan to give Miss Griselda her usual evening lesson. No one knew how +her heart beat; no one knew how her pulse throbbed nor how wild were the +fresh fears which were awakened within her. Suppose, after all, Phil +could not keep up that semblance of strength to the end! Suppose an +attack similar to the one he had gone through to-day should come on in +Miss Griselda's presence. Then, indeed, all would be lost. And +suppose--suppose that other thing happened: suppose Rupert Lovel with his +brave young son should arrive at Avonsyde before the 5th of May. Mrs. +Lovel could have torn her hair when Phil so quietly told her that he had +written to young Rupert, and that even now a reply might be waiting for +him at Southampton. She knew well that Rupert's father would remember +how near Avonsyde was to Southampton. If the boy happened to show Phil's +letter to his father, all would be lost. Mrs. Lovel felt that she could +not rest until she went to Southampton and secured the reply which might +be waiting for Phil at the post-office. These anxious thoughts made her +distraite; and bravely as she wore her mask, one or two sighs did escape +from her anxious breast. + +"How silent you are!" suddenly exclaimed Miss Griselda in a snappish +tone. "I have asked you the same question three times! Am I to crochet +twelve or thirteen stitches of chain? Oh, you need not trouble to +answer; I am putting away my work now. The pattern is not working out at +all properly. Perhaps you are anxious about Phil. If so, pray do not let +me detain you. It is a great mistake to coddle children, but I suppose a +mother's foolishness must be excused." + +"You quite mistake. I am not the least anxious," answered poor Mrs. +Lovel, who was in reality on thorns. "I am so very sorry that I did not +hear your question, dear Miss Griselda. The fact is, I have been +wondering if I might ask a little favor. I should like to go to +Southampton to-morrow morning. Can you spare the carriage to send me to +the railway station?" + +Miss Griselda stared. + +"Can I spare the carriage?" she repeated haughtily. "I was not aware +that you were a prisoner at Avonsyde, Mrs. Lovel. Of course you can go +in or out as you please. Pray send your own orders to the stables." + +Mrs. Lovel was profuse in her thanks, Miss Griselda as cross and +ungracious as possible. The fact was the old lady was longing to pay +Phil a visit in his room, and would have done so had she not feared his +mother accompanying her. The poor unhappy mother would have given worlds +to be with her boy, but dreaded Miss Griselda's comments. + +The next day, early, Mrs. Lovel went to Southampton, executed a few +commissions in order to give color to her expedition, fetched Phil's +letter from the post-office, and returned home, burning with impatience +to read its contents. She would not have scrupled to open the envelope +had not Phil implored of her, just when she was starting on her journey, +to let him have this pleasure himself. + +Phil was much as usual the next morning, and he and Aunt Grizel and +Kitty had gone off on an expedition into the forest to look for mosses. +When Mrs. Lovel got back the little party had not returned. She had +still to control her impatience, and after taking a hurried lunch went +up to her tower bedroom. She laid the letter with the Australian +postmark on the writing-table and paced in a fever of anxiety up and +down the small room. Suddenly it occurred to her to beguile the slow +moments with some occupation. Why should she not open that trunk which +contained old reminiscences and one or two articles of value? Why should +she not open it and put its contents in order, and take out the precious +tankard and clean it? This task would give her occupation and cause the +weary moments to pass quickly. + +She stooped down and was startled to find that the key was in the lock. +How very, very stupid of her to have left it there! When had she been +guilty of so dangerous a piece of negligence? With trembling fingers she +raised the lid of the trunk and began to search for the tankard. Of +course she could not find it. Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching +and half-rose in an expectant attitude. Her little son came quickly in. + +"Oh, mother, have you brought my letter?" + +"Yes; it is on the table. Phil, there was a silver tankard in this +trunk, and I can't find it." + +Phil had flown to his letter and was opening it eagerly. + +"Phil, do you hear me? I can't find the silver tankard." + +He went up at once to his mother. + +"I beg your pardon, mother. I am so dying to see what Rupert says! A +silver tankard? Oh, yes; that old one they always had at Belmont; the +one Gabrielle was so proud of. I did not know they had given it to you. +Oh, mother, I am sorry. Do you know, I never thought of it until this +minute." + +"Thought of what? Speak, child; don't keep me on thorns!" + +"I found it, mother, and I took it out with me that day when I was +nearly drowned in the bog. I had it with me that day." + +"Well, boy, well! Where is it now?" + +"I don't know. I don't remember a single thing about it. I think I had +it with me in the bog. I'm almost sure I had, but I can't quite +recollect. Perhaps I dropped it in the bog. Mother, what is the matter?" + +"Nothing, child. I could shake you, but I won't. This is terrible news. +There! read your letter." + +"Mother darling, let us read it together. Mother, I didn't know it was +wrong. Kiss me, mammy, and don't look so white. Oh! I am almost too +happy. Mother, Rupert says when I am reading this he will be in +England!" + +"Then we are lost!" said Mrs. Lovel, pushing the slight little figure +away from her. "No, no, I scarcely love you at this moment. Don't +attempt to kiss me. We are utterly lost!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII.--LOOKING FOR THE TANKARD. + + +When Mrs. Lovel spoke to Phil with such passion and bitterness, and +when, abruptly leaving the tower bedroom and slamming the door violently +after her, the little boy found himself alone, he was conscious of a +curious half-stunned feeling. His mother had said that she scarcely +loved him. All his small life he had done everything for his mother; he +had subdued himself for her sake; he had crushed down his love and his +hope and his longing just to help her. What did he care for wealth, or +for a grand place, or for anything in all the wide world, in comparison +with the sweetness of Rupert's smile, in comparison with the old happy +days in Belmont and of the old life, when he might be a boy with aches +and pains if he liked, when he need not pretend to be possessed of the +robust health which he never felt, when he need carry no wearisome +secrets about with him? His mother had said, "I scarcely love you, +Phil," and she had gone away angry; she had gone away with defiance in +her look and manner, and yet with despair in her heart. Phil had guessed +that she was despairing, for he knew her well, and this knowledge soon +made his brief anger take the form of pity. + +"Poor mother! poor darling mother!" he murmured. "I did not know she +would mind my taking out the old Belmont tankard. I am awfully sorry. I +suppose it was quite careless of me. I did not know that mother cared +for the tankard; but I suppose Gabrielle must have given it to her, and +I suppose she must love Gabrielle a little. That is nice of her; that is +very nice. I wish I could get the tankard back for her. I wonder where I +did leave it. I do wish very much that I could find it again." + +Phil now turned and walked to the window and looked out. It was a +delicious spring day, and the soft air fanned his cheeks and brought +some faint color to them. + +"I know what I'll do," he said to himself. "I'll go once again into the +forest--I'm not likely to get lost a second time--and I'll look for the +tankard. Of course I may find it, and then mother will be happy again. +Oh, dear, to think Rupert is in England! How happy his letter would have +made me but for mother, and--hullo! is that you, Kitty?" + +"Yes; come down," called out Kitty from the lawn in front of the house. +"I've been watching you with Aunt Griselda's spy-glasses for the last +couple of minutes, and you do look solemn." + +"I'm coming," Phil called back. + +He thrust his beloved letter into one of his pockets, and a moment later +joined his two cousins on the lawn. + +"You have been a time," said Kitty, "and we have got some wonderful and +quite exciting news to tell you--haven't we, Rachel?" + +"You find it exciting, Kitty," said Rachel in an almost nonchalant +voice, "but I dare say Phil will agree with me that it's almost a bore." + +"What is it?" said Phil. + +"Oh, only this--the Marmadukes are coming to-morrow to stay for ten +days." + +"The Marmadukes! Who are they?" asked Phil. + +"Oh, some children from London. They are our relations--at least, so Aunt +Griselda says; and she thinks it will be nice for us to know them. +Anyhow, they're coming--two boys and two girls, and a father and a +mother, and a lady's-maid, and a pug dog, and a parrot. Aunt Grizel is +so angry about the pug and the parrot; she wanted to write and tell them +all that they couldn't come, and then Aunt Katharine cried and there was +a fuss. It seems they're more Aunt Katharine's friends than Aunt +Grizel's. Anyhow, they're coming, and the pug and the parrot are to stay +in Newbolt's room all the time; so don't you ask to see them, Phil, or +you'll get into hot water. The best of it is that while they're here we +are all to have holidays, and we can go a great deal into the forest and +have picnics if the weather keeps fine. And in the evening Aunt Grizel +says she will have the armory lighted, and we children may play there +and have charades and tableaux and anything we fancy. Oh, I call it +great, splendid fun!" said Kitty, ending with a caper. + +Rachel's very dark eyes had brightened when Kitty spoke about the +tableaux and the charades. + +"It all depends on what kind of children the Marmadukes are," she said; +and then she took Phil's hand and walked across the lawn with him. + +She had a fellow-feeling for Phil just at present, for he and she shared +a secret; and she noticed as he stood by Kitty's side that his laugh was +a little forced and that there were very dark lines under his eyes. + +"You're tired--aren't you, Phil?" she said. + +"I?" asked the little boy, looking up with almost alarm in his face. +"Oh, please don't say that, Rachel." + +"Why shouldn't I say it? Any one to look at you could see you are tired, +and I'm sure I don't wonder, after being so ill last night. Go in and +lie down if you like, Phil, and I'll pretend to Aunt Grizel that you are +half a mile away in the forest climbing trees and doing all kinds of +impossible things." + +"I do want to go into the forest," said Phil, "but I won't go to-day, +Rachel. You were very kind to me last night. I love you for being so +kind." + +"Oh, it wasn't exactly kindness," said Rachel. "I came to you because I +was curious, you know." + +"Yes; but you were kind, all the same. Do you think, Rachel, we shall +often go into the forest and go a long, long way when the Marmadukes are +here?" + +"Yes, I suppose so. It depends upon the weather, of course, and what +kind of children they are. They may be such puny little Londoners that +they may not be able to walk a dozen steps. Why do you want to know, +Phil? You look quite excited." + +"We have a secret between us--haven't we, Rachel?" + +It was Rachel's turn now to color and look eager. + +"Yes," she said; "oh, yes." + +"Some day," whispered Phil--"some day, when the Marmadukes are here, we +might go near the lady's house--might we not?" + +Rachel caught the boy's arm with a strong convulsive grasp. + +"If we might!" she said. "If we only dared! And you and I, Phil, might +steal away from the others, and go close to the lady's house, and watch +until she came out. And we might see her--oh! we might see her, even if +we did not dare to speak." + +"I want to go," said Phil--"I want to go to that house again, although it +is not because I want to see the lady. It is a secret; all my life is +made up of secrets. But I will go if--if I have a chance. And if you see +me stealing away by myself you will help me--won't you, Rachel?" + +"Trust me," said Rachel, with enthusiasm. "Oh, what a dear boy you are, +Phil! I can scarcely believe when I talk to you that you are only eight +years old; you seem more like my own age. To be only eight is very +young, you know." + +"I have had a grave sort of life," said Phil, with a hastily suppressed +sigh, "and I suppose having a great many secrets to keep does make a boy +seem old." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII.--THE MARMADUKES. + + +The Marmadukes were not at all a puny family; on the contrary, they were +all rather above the ordinary size. Mr. Marmaduke was extremely broad +and red and stout; Mrs. Marmaduke was an angular and bony-framed woman, +with aquiline features and a figure which towered above all the other +ladies present; the lady's-maid took after her mistress in stature and +became Newbolt's detestation on the spot; the pug dog was so large that +he could scarcely be considered thoroughbred; and the parrot was a +full-grown bird and the shrillest of its species. The four young +Marmadukes took after their parents and were extremely well developed. +The eldest girl was thirteen; her name was Clementina; she had a very +fat face and a large appetite. The boys, named Dick and Will, were +sturdy specimens; and Abigail, or Abby, the youngest of the group, was +considerably spoiled and put on many airs, which made her insufferable +to Kitty and Phil. + +The Marmadukes arrived in a body, and without any efforts on their own +parts or the smallest desire that way on the part of the old ladies they +took Avonsyde by storm. They seemed to fill the whole house and to +pervade the grounds, and to make their presence felt wherever they +turned. They entertained themselves and suggested what places they +should go to see, and announced the hours at which they would like best +to dine and what times they would wish the Avonsyde carriage to be in +attendance. Miss Griselda was petrified at what she was pleased to term +the manners of the great Babylon. Miss Katharine received several snubs +at the style of friends she kept, and only the fact that they were +distantly connected with the Lovels, and that their visit must terminate +within ten days, prevented Miss Griselda from being positively rude to +such unwelcome inmates. + +"Phil," said Rachel on the second morning after the arrival of this +obnoxious household, "if Clementina thinks she is going to get the upper +hand of me any more she is finely mistaken. What do I care for her +Kensington Gardens and that pony she rides in the Row! I don't suppose +she knows how to ride--not really; for I asked her yesterday if she could +ride barebacked, and she stared at me, and turned up her lip, and said +in such a mincing voice, 'We don't do that kind of thing in London.' +Phil, I hate her; I really do! I don't know how I'm to endure her for +the next week. She walks about with me and is so condescending to me; +and I can't endure it--no, I can't! Oh, I wish I could do something to +humble her!" + +"Poor Rachel!" said Phil in his sweet, pitying voice, and a tender, +beautiful light which is born of sympathy filled his eyes. "I know +Clementina is not your sort, Rachel," he said, "and I only wish she +would talk to me and leave you alone." + +Rachel laughed and leaned her hand affectionately on Phil's shoulder. + +"I don't wish that," she said. "I don't want to ease myself by adding to +your burdens; you have quite enough with Dick and Will. You must hate +them just as much as I hate Clementina." + +"Oh, I don't hate them at all," said Phil. "They are not my sort; they +are not the style of boys I like best, but I get on all right with them; +and as to hating, I never hated any one in all my life." + +"Well, I have," said Rachel. "And the one I hate most now in all the +world is Clementina Marmaduke! Oh, here they are, all coming to meet us; +and doesn't poor Kitty look bored to death?" + +Phil glanced wistfully from one sister to another, and then he ran up to +Clementina and began to chat to her in a very eager and animated voice. +He was evidently suggesting something which pleased her, for she smiled +and nodded her head several times. Phil said, "I'll bring them to you in +a moment or two," and ran off. + +"What have you asked Phil to do?" asked Rachel angrily. "He's not a +strong boy--at least, not very strong, and he mustn't be sent racing +about." + +"Oh, then, if he's not strong he won't ever get Avonsyde," returned +Clementina. "How disappointed his mother will be. I thought Phil was +very strong." + +"You know nothing about it," said Rachel, getting redder and more angry. +"You have no right to talk about our private affairs; they are nothing +to you." + +"I only know what my mamma tells me," said Clementina, "and I don't +choose to be lectured by you, Miss Rachel." + +Here Will and Dick came eagerly forward, squared their shoulders, and +said: + +"Go it, girls! Give it to her back, Rachel. She's never happy except +when she's quarreling." + +A torrent of angry words was bubbling up to Rachel's lips, but here Phil +came panting up, holding a great spray of lovely scarlet berries in his +hand. + +"Here!" he said, presenting it to Clementina. "That is the very last, +and I had to climb a good tall tree to get it. Let me twine it round +your hat the way Gabrielle used to wear it. Here, just one twist--doesn't +it look jolly?" + +The effect on Clementina's dark brown beaver hat was magical, and the +effect on her temper was even more soothing--she smiled and became +good-tempered at once. Rachel's angry words were never spoken, and +sunshine being restored the children began to discuss their plans for +the day. + +Miss Griselda had given a certain amount of freedom to all the young +folk, and under supervision--that is, in the company of Robert, the +groom--they might visit any part of the forest not too far away. When the +eager question was asked now, "What shall we do with ourselves?" Phil +replied instantly, "Let's go into the forest. Let's visit Rufus' Stone." + +Rachel's eyes danced at this, and she looked eagerly and expectantly at +her little cousin. + +"You have none of you seen the Stone," proceeded Phil. "There are +splendid trees for climbing round there, and on a fine day like this it +will be jolly. We can take our lunch out, and I'll show you lots of +nests, Will." + +"I'll go on one condition," said Rachel--"that we ride. Let's have our +ponies. It is too horrid to be cooped up in a wagonette." + +"Oh, we'd all much rather ride!" exclaimed the Marmaduke children. + +"Bob can drive the pony-cart to the Stone," proceeded Rachel, "and meet +us there with our luncheon things. That will do quite well, for as there +are such a lot of us we won't want a groom to ride as well. We know +every inch of the road from here to the Stone--don't we, Phil?" + +"Yes," answered Phil softly. + +"Well, that's splendid," said Clementina, who felt that her berries were +very becoming and who imagined that Rachel was looking at them +enviously. "But have you got horses enough to mount us all?" + +"We've got ponies," said Rachel. "Rough forest ponies; jolly creatures! +You shall have Brownie, as you're such a good rider; he's nice and +spirited--isn't he, Phil?" + +"Yes," replied Phil. "But I think Clementina would have a jollier time +with Surefoot; he goes so easily. I think he's the dearest pony in the +world." + +"But he's your own pony, Phil. You surely are not going to give up your +own pony?" + +Phil laughed. + +"I'm not going to give him up," he said; "only I think I'd like to ride +Brownie this morning." + +Rachel scarcely knew why she felt ashamed at these words; she certainly +had no intention of offering her horse to Clementina. + +"What queer ways Phil has," she thought to herself. And then she saw a +softened look in Clementina's eyes and her heart gave a sharp little +prick. + +Half an hour later the riding party set out, and for a time all went +smoothly. Rachel was trying to curb her impatience; Clementina amused +herself by being condescending to Philip; and Dick, Will, Kitty, and +Abby rode amicably together. But the party was ill-assorted, and peace +was not likely long to reign. Surefoot was an extremely nice pony, and +Clementina rode well in front, and after a time began to give herself +airs, and to arrange her fresh and very becoming habit, as if she were +riding in the Row. Surefoot was gentle, but he was also fresh; and when +Clementina touched him once or twice with her riding-whip, he shook +himself indignantly and even broke into a canter against her will. + +"You must not touch Surefoot with a whip," sang out Rachel. "He does not +need it and it is an insult to him." + +Clementina laughed scornfully. + +"All horses need the whip now and then," she said; "it freshens them up +and acts as a stimulant. You don't suppose, Rachel, that I don't know? I +rather think there are very few girls who know more about riding than I +do. Why, I have had lessons from Captain Delacourt since I can +remember." + +"Is Captain Delacourt your riding-master?" asked Rachel in an +exasperating voice. "If so, he can't be at all a good one; for a really +good riding-master would never counsel any girl to use the whip to a +willing horse." + +"Did your riding-master give you that piece of information?" inquired +Clementina in a voice which she considered full of withering sarcasm. "I +should like to know his name, in order that I might avoid him." + +Rachel laughed. + +"My riding-master was Robert," she said, "and as he is my aunt's +servant, you cannot get lessons from him even if you wish to. You need +not sneer at him, Clementina, for there never was a better rider than +Robert, and he has taught me nearly everything he knows himself. There +isn't any horse I couldn't sit, and it would take a very clever horse +indeed to throw me." + +Clementina smiled most provokingly, and raising her whip gave gentle +little Surefoot a couple of sharp strokes. The little horse quivered +indignantly, and Rachel glanced at Phil, who was riding behind on +Brownie. + +"Oh, Phil," she called out, "Clementina is so unkind to your horse. It +is well for you, Clementina, that you are on Surefoot's back. He is so +sweet-tempered he won't resent even cruelty very much; but if you dared +to whip my horse, Ruby, you would have good reason to repent of your +rashness." + +Rachel was riding on a red-coated pony, a half-tamed creature with +promises of great beauty and power by and by, but at present somewhat +rough and with a wild, untamed gleam in his eyes. Clementina glanced all +over Ruby, but did not deign another remark. She was forming a plan in +her mind. By hook or by crook she would ride Ruby home and show to the +astonished Rachel what Captain Delacourt's pupil was capable of. + +The children presently reached their destination, where Bob and the +light cart of refreshments awaited them. The day was very balmy and +springlike, and the most fastidious could not but be pleased and the +most ill-tempered could not fail for a time, at least, to show the sunny +side of life. The children made merry. Rachel and Clementina forgot +their disputes in the delights of preparing salads and cutting up pies; +Phil, the Marmaduke boys, and Abby went off on a foraging expedition; +and Kitty swung herself into the low-growing branch of a great oak tree, +and lazily closing her eyes sang softly to herself. + +The picnic dinner turned out a grand success; and then Clementina, who +was fond of music and who had discovered that Kitty had a particularly +sweet voice, called her to her and said that they might try and get up +some glees, which would sound delightfully romantic in the middle of the +forest. The children sat round in a circle, Clementina now quite in her +element and feeling herself absolute mistress of the occasion. + +Suddenly Phil got up and strolled away. No one noticed him but Rachel, +who sat on thorns for a few minutes; then, when the singing was at its +height, she slipped round the oak tree, flew down the glade, and reached +the little boy as he was entering a thick wood which lay to the right. + +"Phil! Phil! you are going to see her?" + +"Oh, don't, Rachel--don't follow me now! If we are both missed they will +come to look for us, and then the lady's house will be discovered and +she will have to go away. She said if her house was discovered she would +have to go away, and oh, Rachel, if you love her--and you say you love +her--that would be treating her cruelly!" + +"The children won't miss us," said Rachel, whose breath came fast and +whose cheeks were brightly colored. "The children are all singing as +loudly as they can and they are perfectly happy, and Robert is eating +his dinner. I won't go in, Phil; no, of course I won't go in, for I +promised, and I would not break my word, to her of all people. But if I +might stay at a little distance, and if I might just peep round a tree +and see her, for she may come to talk to you, Phil. Oh, Phil, don't +prevent me! I will not show myself, but I might see without being seen." + +Rachel was trembling, and yet there was a bold, almost defiant look on +her face; she looked so like Rupert that Phil's whole heart was drawn to +her. + +"You must do what you wish, of course," he said. "Do you see that giant +oak tree at the top of the glade? You can stand there and you can peep +your head well round. See, let's come to it. See, Rachel, you have a +splendid view of the cottage from here. Now I will go and try if I can +get any tidings of Gabrielle's tankard. Good-by, Rachel. Remember your +promise not to come any nearer." + +Phil ran lightly away, and Rachel saw him go into the little +rose-covered porch of the cottage. + +He raised the tiny knocker, and in a moment or two Nancy White answered +his summons. + +"Is the lady--the lady of the forest in, Nancy?" asked the little boy. + +"The lady! Bless my heart, if this ain't Master Phil Lovel! Well, my +dear little gentleman, and what may you want?" + +"I want the lady. Can I see her? Perhaps she would come out to walk with +me for a little, for I want to talk to her on a most important thing." + +"Bless you, my dear, the lady ain't at home, and if she were she don't +go taking walks at anybody's bidding. She's particular and retiring in +her ways, the lady is, and when she's at home she keeps at home." + +"I'm sorry she's not at home to-day," said Phil, leaning against the +porch and getting back his breath slowly. "It's a great disappointment, +for I find it very difficult to come so far, and what I wanted to say +was really important. Good-by, Nancy. Give my love to the lady when you +see her." + +"Don't go yet, Master Philip. You're looking very white. I hope you're +quite strong, sir." + +"Yes, I'm a strong boy," said Phil in a slow voice. + +"You wouldn't like to come in and rest for a bit, little master? Maybe I +could do what you want as well as my missus." + +"Maybe you could," said Phil, his eyes brightening. "I never thought of +that. No, I won't come in, thank you, Nancy. Nancy, do you remember the +day I was nearly lost in the bog?" + +"Of course I do, my dear little man; and a sorry pickle you was when my +missus brought you home!" + +"Had I anything in my hand when I was brought into the house, Nancy? +Please think hard. Had I anything rather important in my hand?" + +"You had a bit of a brier clutched tight in one hand. I remember that, +my dear." + +"Oh, but what I mean was something quite different--what I mean was a +large silver drinking-mug. I cannot remember anything about it since I +got lost in the bog, and I am afraid it must have gone right down into +the bog. But I thought it just possible that I might have brought it +here. You did not see it, did you, Nancy?" + +"Well, my dear, is it likely? Whatever else we may be in this house, we +ain't thieves." + +Phil looked distressed. + +"I did not mean that," he said--"I did not mean that. I just thought I +might have left it and that I would come and ask. Mother is in great +trouble about the mug; it means a great lot to mother, and it was very +careless of me to bring it into the forest. I am sorry you did not see +it, Nancy." + +"And so am I, Master Lovel, if it's a-worrying of you, dear. But there, +the grandest silver can that ever was made ain't worth fretting about. I +expect it must have slipped into the bog, dear." + +"Good-by, Nancy," said Phil in a sorrowful, polite little voice, and he +went slowly back to where Rachel watched behind the oak tree. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX.--A TENDER HEART. + + +Phil's heart was very low within him. During the last few days, ever +since that terrible interview with his mother, he had built his hopes +high. He had been almost sure that the tankard was waiting for him in +the lady's house in the forest, that he should find it there when he +went to make inquiries, and then that he might bring it back to his +mother and so remove the shadow from her brow. + +"I never knew that mother could miss a thing Gabrielle had given her so +very, very much," thought the little boy. "But there's no doubt at all +she does miss it and that she's fretting. Poor, dear mother! she's not +unkind to me. Oh, no, she's never that except when she's greatly vexed; +but, all the same, I know she's fretting; for those lines round her +mouth have come out again, and even when she laughs and tries to be +merry downstairs I see them. There's no doubt at all that she's fretting +and is anxious. Poor mother! how I wish I could find the green lady of +the forest and that she would give me the bag of gold which would +satisfy mother's heart." + +Phil walked very slowly, his eyes fixed on the ground. He was now +startled to hear a voice addressing him, and looking up with a quick +movement, he saw the lady who lived in the pretty little cottage coming +to meet him. He was not particularly elated at sight of her; he had +nothing in particular to say to her; for as Nancy had assured him that +the tankard was not at the cottage, it was quite useless making further +inquiries about it. + +"What are you doing here, Philip?" asked the lady in a kind voice. She +knew him at once, and coming up to him, took his hand and looked kindly +into his face. "You are a long way from home. Have you lost yourself in +this dear, beautiful forest a second time, little man?" + +Then Phil remembered that if this lady of the forest meant nothing in +particular to him she meant a great deal to Rachel. He could not forget +how Rachel's eyes had shone, how Rachel's face had looked when she spoke +about her. The color flew into his own pale little face, and he spoke +with enthusiasm. + +"I am glad I have met you," he said, "even though I don't know your +name. Will you come for a walk with me now through the forest? Will you +hold my hand and look at me while you speak? Will you walk with me, and +will you turn your face to the right, always to the right, as you go?" + +"You are a queer little boy," said the lady, and she laughed, almost +merrily. "But I have just taken a very long walk and am tired. You also +look tired, Philip, and your face is much too white. Suppose we alter +the programme and yet keep together for a little. Suppose you come into +the cottage with me and have some tea, and Nancy makes some of her +delicious griddle-cakes." + +"That would be lovely. I should like it beyond anything; but may Rachel +come in too?" + +"Rachel!" said the lady of the forest. She put her hand suddenly to her +heart and stepped back a pace or two. + +"Yes, my cousin, Rachel Lovel; she is standing up yonder, at the other +side of the great oak tree. She wants to see you, and she is standing +there, hoping, hoping. Rachel's heart is very hungry to see you. When +she speaks of you her eyes look starved. I don't understand it, but I +know Rachel loves you better than any one else in the world." + +"Impossible!" said the lady; "and yet--and yet--but I must not speak to +her, child, nor she to me. It--oh! you agitate me. I am tired. I have had +a long walk. I must not speak to little Rachel Lovel." + +"She knows that," said Phil in a sorrowful voice; for the lady's +whiteness and agitation and distress filled him with the keenest +sympathy. "Rachel knows that you and she may not speak, but let her look +at you. Do! She will be so good; she will not break her word to you for +the world." + +"I must not look on her face, child. There are limits--yes, there are +limits, and beyond them I have not strength to venture. I have a secret, +child; I have a holy of holies, and you are daring to open it wide. Oh! +you have brought me agony, and I am very tired!" + +"I know what secrets are," said little Phil. "Oh! they are dreadful; +they give great pain. I am sorry you are in such trouble, lady of the +forest, and that I have caused it. I am sorry, too, that you cannot take +a very little walk with me, for it would give Rachel such pleasure." + +"It would give Rachel pleasure?" repeated the lady. And now the color +came back to her cheeks and the light to her eyes. "That makes all the +difference. I will walk with you, Phil, and you shall take my hand and I +will turn my face to the right. See: can Rachel see my face now?" + +"Yes," said Phil; "she will peep from behind the oak tree. How glad, how +delighted she will be!" + +The lady and Phil walked slowly together, hand in hand, for nearly half +an hour; during all that time the lady did not utter a single word. When +the walk came to an end she stooped to kiss Phil, and then, moved by an +impulse which she could not restrain, she kissed her own hand fervently +and waved it in the direction of the oak tree. A little childish hand +fluttered in the breeze in return, and then the lady returned to the +cottage and shut the door after her. + + * * * * * + +Phil ran panting up to the oak tree and took Rachel's hand. + +"I did what I could for you, Rachel," he said. "You saw her--did you not? +She kept her face turned to the right, and you must have seen her quite +plainly." + +Rachel's cheeks were blazing like two peonies; the pupils of her eyes +were dilated; her lips quivered. + +"I saw her!" she exclaimed. "I looked at her, and my heart is hungrier +than ever!" + +Here she threw herself full length on the ground and burst into +passionate sobs. + +"Don't, Rachel!" said Phil. "You puzzle me. Oh, you make my heart ache! +Oh, this pain!" + +He turned away from Rachel, and leaning against the oak tree writhed in +bodily agony. In a moment Rachel had sprung to her feet; her tears had +stopped; and raising Phil's hat she wiped some drops from his white +brow. + +"I ran a little too fast," he panted, after a moment or two. "I am a +strong boy, but I can't run very fast; it gives me a stitch; it catches +my breath. Oh, yes, thank you, Rachel; I am better now. I am a strong +boy, but I can't run very fast." + +"You are not a bit a strong boy!" said Rachel, wiping away her own tears +vigorously. "I have discovered that secret too of yours, Phil. You are +always pretending to be strong, but it is only pretense." + +Phil looked at his cousin in alarm. + +"If you guess my secrets you won't tell them?" he said. + +"Of course I won't tell. What do you take me for? Now you must not walk +for a little, and the children are quite happy without us. Is not this a +nice soft bank? I will sit by your side and you shall tell me what the +lady said to you and you to her." + +"No," said Phil, with sudden energy. "I cannot tell you what she said." + +"You cannot tell me?" + +"No. I took the lady by surprise and she let out some of her secrets--not +all, but some. It would not be fair to tell them to any one else. I +asked her to walk with me, and she knew that you were watching. Now, +Rachel, I am quite well again, as well as ever. Shall we go back to the +other children?" + +Rachel rose slowly to her feet. + +"I hate secrets," she said, "and the very air seems full of them +sometimes. You have lots of secrets, and my aunts have secrets, and the +lady of the forest has a secret, and there is a secret about my mother, +for I know she is not dead and yet I never see her. These secrets are +enough to starve my heart. Phil, how soon would a girl like me be +supposed to be grown up?" + +"Oh, Rachel, how can I tell?" + +"I shall be thirteen in May and I am tall. When I am fifteen--that is, in +two years' time--I shall begin to go round the world looking for my +mother. I don't intend to wait any longer. When I am fifteen I shall +begin to go." + +"In Australia girls are nearly grown up at that age," said Phil, who was +thinking of Gabrielle. "Now, Rachel, let us go back to the others." + +The others were getting impatient. They had played hide-and-seek, and +hunted for squirrels, and climbed trees, and quarreled and made it up +again, until all their resources had come to an end; and when Rachel and +Phil made their appearance they found that Robert had packed up the +remains of the picnic, and that Clementina and Abby had already mounted +their ponies, preparatory to riding home. Robert was leading up the +other ponies as the two missing children appeared. + +Rachel's mind was still a good deal preoccupied, and it was not until +she was preparing to mount her own pony that she discovered that +Clementina had secured Ruby and was now seated comfortably on his back. + +"Oh, Clementina, it is not safe for you to ride Ruby," she called out at +once. "He's only just broken in and he's full of spirit." + +"Thank you," replied Clementina. "I prefer riding horses with spirit. I +would not have another ride on that slow little creature, Surefoot, for +the world." + +"But indeed that is not the reason," said Rachel, who felt herself, she +scarcely knew why, both softened and subdued. "It is that Ruby is not +safe. I am the first girl who has ever been on his back. He knows me and +will do what I tell him, but I am sure it is dangerous for you to ride +him. Is it not dangerous, Robert, for Miss Marmaduke to ride Ruby?" +called out Rachel to the groom. + +Robert came up and surveyed the spirited little horse and the young +rider critically. + +"If Miss Marmaduke don't whip him, and if she humors him a good bit and +don't set him off in a canter, why, then no harm may be done," he said. +"Ruby's fresh, miss, and have a good deal of wild blood in him, and I +only broke him in for Miss Rachel a fortnight back." + +Clementina's color had risen very high during this discussion. + +"I presume," she said in an insolent tone, "that a pupil of Captain +Delacourt's can ride any horse that a pupil of one of the grooms at +Avonsyde can manage! I'm sorry you're so disobliging as to grudge me +your horse, Rachel. I'll just ride on in front now, and you all can +follow me when you are ready." + +She turned Ruby's head as she spoke and rode away under the forest +trees. + +"If she gives Ruby a taste of the whip she'll repent of all her proud +airs," muttered Robert. "Now, young ladies, you had better mount and get +under way. I suppose, Miss Rachel, that that 'ere young lady knows the +right road home?" + +"Hadn't I better get on Brownie and ride after her?" asked Phil. + +"No, sir; no. Ruby couldn't bear horses' hoofs a-galloping after him. It +would set him off mad like, and there wouldn't be a hope for Miss +Marmaduke. No; the only thing now is to trust that the young lady won't +touch Ruby with the whip and that she knows the way home." + +The other children mounted without any more discussion, and the ride +home was undertaken with a certain sense of depression. + +No sign of Clementina could be seen, and when they reached the stables +at Avonsyde neither she nor Ruby had put in an appearance. + + + + +CHAPTER XX.--PUNISHED. + + +Clementina was a spoiled child, and in consequence was as disagreeable +and as full of herself as such children are apt to be. She was neither +beautiful nor clever; she had no outward gifts to counterbalance her +imperious airs and selfish ways; consequently she was only popular with +her parents and with herself. + +The Marmadukes were very rich people, and although Clementina had no +real friends, she had many toadies--girls who praised her for the +accomplishments she did not possess, for the beauty which had been +denied her, and for the talents and cleverness which she knew nothing +whatever about. Clementina both believed in and appreciated flattery. +Flattery made her feel comfortable; it soothed her vanity and fed her +self-esteem. It was not at all difficult to persuade her that she was +clever, beautiful, and accomplished. But of all her acquirements there +was none of which she was so very proud as of her riding. She was no +coward, and she rode fairly well for a town girl. She had always the +advantage of the best horses, the most stylish habits, and the most +carefully equipped groom to follow her. On horseback her so-called +friends told her she looked superb; therefore on horseback she greatly +liked to be. + +Rachel's words that morning and Rachel's unconcealed contempt had stung +Clementina's vanity to the quick. She was quite determined to show this +little nobody, this awkward country girl, what proper riding meant; and +she galloped off on Ruby with her heart beating high with pride, anger, +and a sense of exultation; she would canter lightly away in the +direction of the Avonsyde stables, and be ready to meet Rachel haughty +and triumphant when she returned wearily home on that dull little pony, +Surefoot. + +Surefoot, however, was not a dull pony. He was extremely gentle and +docile and affectionate, and although he hated the rider he had on his +back that morning, and resented to the bottom of his honest little heart +the indignity of being whipped by her, still one sound from Rachel's +voice was sufficient to restrain him and to keep him from punishing the +young lady who chose to ride him in the manner she deserved. Clementina +had ridden Surefoot and he had instantly broken into a canter, but at +the sound of Rachel's voice he had moderated his speed Clementina quite +believed that Surefoot had obeyed her firm hand; and now, as she +galloped away on Ruby, she laughed at the fears expressed for her safety +by Rachel and Robert, the groom. + +"They're jealous," she said to herself; "they're both of them jealous, +and they don't want me to have the only decent horse of the party. Oh, +yes, Ruby, my fine fellow, you shall have a touch of the whip presently. +I'm not afraid of you." + +She felt for her little silver-mounted riding-whip as she spoke and +lightly flicked Ruby's ears with it. + +Back went the ears of the half-trained little horse at once, lightning +glances seemed to flash from his red-brown eyes, and in a moment he had +taken to his heels and was away. + +His movement almost resembled flying, and for a little time Clementina +persuaded herself that she enjoyed it. This was riding indeed! this was +a gallop worth having! What splendid use she could make of it with her +school-friends by and by. These were her first sensations, but they were +quickly followed by others less pleasurable. Ruby seemed to be going +faster and faster; his legs went straight before him; he rushed past +obstacles; he disdained to take the slightest notice of Clementina's +feeble little attempts to pull him in. She lost her breath, and with it +in a great measure her self-control. Were they going in the right +direction? No; she was quite sure they were not; she had never seen that +wide expanse of common; she had never noticed that steep descent; she +had never observed that gurgling, rushing avalanche of water; and--oh, +good God! Ruby was rushing to it. She screamed and attempted violently +to pull him in; he shook his head angrily and flew forward faster than +before; for Ruby was not of the gentle nature of Surefoot, and he could +not forgive even the very slight indignity which Clementina had offered +him. The wretched girl began to scream loudly. + +"I shall be killed! I shall be killed! Oh! will no one save me?" she +screamed. + +Her cries seemed to madden Ruby. He drew up short, put his head between +his legs, and with an easy movement flung Clementina off his back on to +the ground. The next moment he himself was out of sight. + +Clementina found herself sitting in the middle of a bog--a bog not deep +enough to drown her, but quite wet enough, quite uncomfortable enough, +to soak through her riding-habit and to render her thoroughly wretched. +At first, when Ruby had dislodged her from his back, her sensations were +those of relief; then she was quite certain every bone in her body was +broken; then she was equally convinced that the slow and awful death of +sinking in a bog awaited her. She was miles from home; there was not a +soul in sight; and yet, try as she would, she could not raise herself +even to a standing position, for the treacherous ground gave way +whenever she attempted to move. + +Her fall had shaken her considerably, and for a time she sat motionless, +trying to recover her breath and wondering if arms and legs were all +smashed. + +"Oh, what a wicked girl Rachel is!" she said at last. "What right had +she to go out on a wild horse like that? She must have done it for a +trick; she must have done it on purpose; she meant me to ride Ruby +coming home, and so she tantalized me and tried to rouse my spirit. +Margaret and Jessie Dawson say that I am just full of spirit, and I +never can brook that sneering way, particularly from a mere child like +Rachel. Well, well, she's punished now, for I shall probably die of +this. If all my bones aren't broken, and I firmly believe they are, and +if I don't sink in this horrid bog--which I expect I shall--I'm safe to +have rheumatic fever and to die of it, and then what will Rachel do? +She'll never know an easy moment again as long as she lives. She'll be +sorry for the tricks she played me when she thinks of me lying in my +early grave. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do? what shall I do?" + +Poor Clementina threw up her hands, by so doing fastening herself more +firmly in the odious bog, and burst into a loud wailing cry. She was +cold and wet now, the excitement of her wild race was over, and as the +moments flew on, lengthening themselves into half-hours and hours, she +became thoroughly frightened. Oh, how awful if the night should overtake +her while she sat there! And yet what more likely? for not a soul had +passed the place since her accident. As her anger cooled and her fright +increased, several prickings of that dull conscience of hers smote the +unhappy girl. After all, was Rachel to blame for what had happened? Had +she not begged and even implored of her not to ride Ruby? Had not Robert +spoken freely of what would happen if she did so? Oh, if only she had +listened to their voices! if only she had not been so self-confident! +She pictured them all safe and sound now at home at Avonsyde. She +imagined them sitting in the pleasant armory chatting over the day's +adventures and most likely forgetting all about her. Abby and the boys, +if occupied over any exciting game, would be certain to forget her; +little Kitty, to whom she had always been specially cross, would most +likely rejoice in her absence; Rachel, if she had time to give her a +thought, would be sure to be possessed with a sense of triumph; and +Phil--ah! well, somehow or other Phil was different from other boys and +girls. Phil had a look in his eyes, Phil had a way about him which +Clementina recognized as belonging to the rare and beautiful spirit of +unselfishness. Phil's small, thin, white face was ever and always alive +and glowing with sympathy; his eyes would darken and expand at the mere +mention of anybody's trouble, and again that little sensitive face would +sparkle and glow with delight over anybody's joy. Clementina, sitting +now in the middle of the bog, the most lonely and wretched girl alive, +could not help feeling comforted as she thought of Phil; it was more +than probable that if all the others forgot her Phil might remember. + +While Clementina was waiting in a state of absolute despair matters were +not so hopeless for her as she supposed. The children when they reached +Avonsyde gave an instant alarm, and steps were at once taken to search +for the missing girl. But it is one thing to be lost in the forest and +another thing to be found. Ruby had taken Clementina in the opposite +direction from Avonsyde, and when she was submerged in the bog she was +many miles away. Robert, shaking his head and muttering that a willful +girl must come to grief, and that it would be well if they ever saw Miss +Marmaduke alive again, went off to saddle a fresh horse to go in search +of her. Other people also started on the same errand; and Phil, whose +pale little face was all aglow with excitement, rushed into the stables, +and securing a horse, mounted it and rode away after the others. The boy +was a splendid rider, having been accustomed to mounting all kinds of +steeds from his babyhood; but he was tired now, and neither Miss +Griselda nor his mother would have allowed him to go had they known +anything about it. But the elder members of the family were all away, +and the children and servants were only acting on their own +responsibility. + +Phil soon caught up Robert, and the two trotted together side by side. + +"I'm quite certain I saw Ruby turning to the left after he went down +that steep bank," said Phil. + +"Then if he did he made for the bog and the waterfall as likely as not," +said Robert. + +"Oh, Robert, you don't suppose Clementina has been drowned in one of the +bogs?" exclaimed Phil in an accent of terror. "You don't, you can't +suppose that?" + +The man favored the boy with a queer glance. + +"If Miss Marmaduke was like you, Master Lovel, or like Miss Rachel or +Miss Kitty, why, I'd say there weren't a hope of her; but being what she +is--well, maybe she'll be given a little more time to mend her manners +in." + +Phil's face assumed a puzzled expression. He said nothing further, and +the two rode hard and fast. + +In this manner they did at last find poor Clementina, who, much subdued +and softened, received them with almost rapture. + +"There's nothing like affliction for bringing characters of that sort +low," muttered Robert as he helped the young lady on his own horse. "And +now, where's that little beauty Ruby, I wonder? Dashed hisself to pieces +as likely as not agin' some of them rocks up there. Oh, yes, and +there'll be no 'count made at all of one of the prettiest little horses +I ever broke in." + +Robert had to run by Clementina's side, who was really considerably +shaken and who gave way to violent hysterics soon after they started. + +"Somehow, Phil, I thought you would remember," she said at last, turning +to her little companion and speaking in a broken voice. + +"Why, of course we all remembered," said Phil. "We were all more sorry +about you than I can say; and as to Rachel, she has been crying like +anything. It seems a pity, Clementina, it really does, you know----" And +then he stopped. + +"What seems a pity, Phil?" + +"That you should be so obstinate. You know you were; and you were rude, +too, for you should not have taken Rachel's horse. It seems to me a +great pity that people should try to pretend--everybody's always trying +to pretend; and what is the use of it? Now, if you had not tried to +pretend that you could ride as well or better than Rachel, you wouldn't +have got into this trouble and we wouldn't have been so terribly sorry. +Where was the use of it, Clementina?" added Phil, gazing hard at the +abashed and astonished young lady; "for nobody could expect you to ride +as well as Rachel, who is a country girl and has been on horseback such +a lot, you know." + +Phil delivered his lecture in the most innocent way, and Clementina +received it with much humility, wondering all the time why she was not +furiously angry; for surely this was the strangest way to speak to a +girl who had been for three seasons under Captain Delacourt. + +She made no reply to Phil's harangue and rode on for some time without +speaking. + +Suddenly a little sigh from the boy, who kept so bravely at her side, +reached her ears. She turned and looked at him. It was quite a new +sensation for Clementina to observe any face critically except her own; +but she did notice now the weariness round the lips and the way the +slight little figure drooped forward. + +"You're tired, Phil," she said. "You have tired yourself out to find +me." + +"I am tired," he replied. "We rode very fast, and my side aches, but it +will be better by and by." + +"You can scarcely sit on your horse," said Clementina in a tone of real +feeling. "Could not your groom--Robert, I think, you call him--mount the +horse and put you in front of him? He could put his arm round you and +you would be nicely rested." + +"That's a good thought, miss," said Robert, with sudden heartiness. +"And, to be sure, Master Philip do look but poorly. It's wonderful what +affliction does for them sort of characters," he muttered under his +breath as he complied with this suggestion. + +When the little party got near home, Phil, who had been lying against +Robert and looking more dead than alive, roused himself and whispered +something to the groom. Robert nodded in reply and immediately after +lifted the boy to the ground. + +"I'm going to rest. Please, Clementina, don't say I am tired," he said; +and then he disappeared down a little glade and was soon out of sight. + +"Where is he going?" asked Clementina of Robert. + +"To a little nest as he has made for hisself, miss, just where the trees +grow thickest up there. He and me, we made it together, and it's always +dry and warm, and nobody knows of it but our two selves. He often and +often goes there when he can't bear up no longer. I beg your pardon, +miss, but I expect I have no right to tell. You won't mention what I +have said to any of the family, miss?" + +"No," said Clementina; "but I feel very sorry for Phil, and I cannot +understand why there should be any mystery made about his getting tired +like other people." + +"Well, miss, you ask his lady mother. Perhaps she can tell you, for +certain sure no one else can." + +Clementina went into the house, where she was received with much +excitement and very considerable rejoicing. She presented a very sorry +plight, her habit being absolutely coated with mud, her hair in +disorder, and even her face bruised and discolored. But it is certain +that Rachel had never admired her so much as when she came up to her +and, coloring crimson, tried to take her hand. + +"Phil said I was rude to you, Rachel, and I am sorry," she muttered. + +"Oh, never mind," answered Rachel, whose own little face was quite +swollen with crying. "I was so dreadfully, dreadfully unhappy, for I was +afraid Ruby had killed you, Clementina." + +Clementina was now hurried away to her own room, where she had a hot +bath and was put to bed, and where her mother fussed over her and +grumbled bitterly at having ever been so silly as to come to such an +outlandish part of the country as Avonsyde. + +"I might have lost you, my precious," she said to her daughter. "It was +nothing short of madness my trusting you to those wild young Lovels." + +"Oh, mother, they aren't a bit to blame, and I think they are rather +nice, particularly Phil." + +"Yes, the boy seems a harmless, delicate little creature. I wonder if +the old ladies will really make him their heir." + +"I hope they will, mother, for he is really very nice." + +In the course of the evening, as Clementina was lying on her pillows, +thinking of a great many things and wondering if Phil was yet rested +enough to leave his nest in the forest, there came a tap at her door, +and to her surprise Phil's mother entered. In some ways Mrs. Lovel bore +a slight resemblance to Clementina; for she also was vain and +self-conscious and she also was vastly taken up with self. Under these +circumstances it was extremely natural that the girl and the woman +should feel a strong antipathy the one to the other, and Clementina felt +annoyed and the softened expression left her face as Mrs. Lovel took a +chair by her bedside. + +"How are you now, my dear--better, I hope?" + +"Thank you, I am quite well," answered Clementina. + +"You had a wonderful escape. Ruby is not half broken in. No one attempts +to ride him except Rachel." + +Clementina felt the old sullen feeling surging up in her heart. + +"Such a horse should not be taken on a riding-party," she said shortly. +"I have had lessons from Captain Delacourt. I can manage almost any +horse." + +"You can doubtless manage quiet horses," said Mrs. Lovel. "Well, you +have had a wonderful escape and ought to be thankful." + +"How is Phil? questioned Clementina after a pause. + +"Phil? He is quite well, of course. He is in the armory with the other +children." + +"He was not well when I saw him last. He looked deadly tired." + +"That was his color, my dear. He is a remarkably strong boy." + +Clementina gave a bitter little laugh. + +"You must be very blind," she said, "or perhaps you don't wish to see. +It was not just because he was pale that he could not keep his seat on +horseback this afternoon. He looked almost as if he would die. You must +be a very blind mother--very blind." + +Mrs. Level's own face had turned white. She was about to make a hasty +rejoinder, when the door was again opened and Miss Griselda and Miss +Katharine came in. + +"Not a word, my dear! I will explain to you another time--another time," +she whispered to the girl. And then she stole out of the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI.--WHAT THE HEIR OUGHT TO BE. + + +A few days after these exciting events the Marmadukes went away. Unless +a sense of relief, they left no particular impression behind them. The +grown-up people had not made themselves interesting to the old ladies; +the lady's-maid and the parrot alike had disturbed Newbolt's equanimity; +and the children of Avonsyde had certainly not learned to love the +Marmaduke children. Clementina had been humbled and improved by her +accident, but even an improved Clementina could not help snubbing Rachel +every hour of the day, and Rachel did not care to be snubbed. On the day +they left Phil did remark, looking wistfully round him: "It seems rather +lonely without the Marmadukes." But no one else echoed the sentiment, +and in a day or two these people, who were so important in their own +eyes, were almost forgotten at Avonsyde. + +On one person, however, this visit had made a permanent impression: that +person was poor Mrs. Lovel. She was made terribly uneasy by Clementina's +words. If Clementina, an ignorant and decidedly selfish girl, could +notice that Phil was not strong, could assure her, in that positive, +unpleasant way she had, that Phil was very far from strong, surely Miss +Griselda, who noticed him so closely and watched all he did and said +with such solicitude, could not fail to observe this fact also. Poor +Mrs. Lovel trembled and feared and wondered, now that the tankard was +lost and now that Phil's delicacy was becoming day by day more apparent, +if there was any hope of that great passionate desire of hers being +fulfilled. + +Just at present, as far as Miss Griselda was concerned, she had no real +cause for alarm. + +Miss Griselda had quite made up her mind, and where she led Miss +Katharine was sure to follow. Miss Griselda was certain that Phil was +the heir. Slowly the conviction grew upon her that this little +white-faced, fragile boy was indeed the lineal descendant of Rupert +Lovel. She had looked so often at his face that she even imagined she +saw a likeness to the dark-eyed, dark-browed, stern-looking man whose +portrait hung in the picture-gallery. This disinherited Rupert had +become more or less of a hero in Miss Griselda's eyes. From her earliest +years she had taken his part; from her earliest years she had despised +that sickly younger line from which she herself had sprung. Like most +women, Miss Griselda invested her long-dead hero with many imaginary +charms. He was brave and great in soul. He was as strong in mind as he +was in physique. When she began to see a likeness between Phil's face +and the face of her old-time hero, and when she began also to discover +that the little boy was generous and brave, that he was one of those +plucky little creatures who shrink from neither pain nor hardship, had +Phil's mother but known it, his cause was won. Miss Griselda began to +love the boy. It was beginning to be delightful to her to feel that +after she was dead and gone little Phil would have the old house and the +lands, that he should reign as a worthy squire of Avonsyde. Already she +began to drill the little boy with regard to his future duties, and +often when he and she took walks together she spoke to him about what he +was to do. + +"All this portion of the forest belongs to us, Phil," she said to him +one day. "My father often talked of having a roadway made through it, +but he never did so, nor will Katharine and I. We leave that as part of +your work." + +"Would the poor people like it?" asked Phil, raising his eyes with their +queer expression to her face. "That's the principal thing to think +about, isn't it--if the poor people would like it?" + +Miss Griselda frowned. + +"I don't agree with you," she said. "The first and principal thing to +consider is what is best for the lord of Avonsyde. A private road just +through these lands would be a great acquisition, and therefore for that +reason you will have to undertake the work by and by." + +Phil's eyes still looked grave and anxious. + +"Do you think, then--are you quite sure that I am really the heir, Aunt +Griselda?" he said. + +Miss Griselda smiled and patted his cheek. + +"Well, my boy, you ought to know best," she said. "Your mother assures +me that you are." + +"Oh, yes--poor mother!" answered Phil. "Aunt Griselda," he continued +suddenly, "if you were picturing an heir to yourself, you wouldn't think +of a boy like me, would you?" + +"I don't know, Phil. I do picture you in that position very often. Your +Aunt Katharine and I have had a weary search, but at last you have come, +and I may say that, on the whole, I am satisfied. My dear boy, we have +been employed for six years over this search, and sometimes I will own +that I have almost despaired. Katharine never did; but then she is +romantic and believes in the old rhyme." + +"What old rhyme?" asked Phil. + +"Have you not heard it? It is part and parcel of our house and runs in +different couplets, but the meaning is always the same: + + "'Come what may come, tyde what may tyde, + Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde.'" + +"Is that really true?" asked Phil, his eyes shining. "I like the words +very much. They sound like a kind of speech that the beautiful green +lady of the forest would have made; but, Aunt Griselda, I must say it--I +am sorry." + +"What about, dear?" + +"That you are satisfied with me as an heir." + +"My dear little Phil, what a queer speech to make. Why should not I be +satisfied with a nice, good little boy like you?" + +"Oh, yes, you might like me for myself," said Phil; "but as the +heir--that is quite a different thing. I'd never picture myself as an +heir--never!" + +"What do you mean, Phil?" + +"I know what I mean, Aunt Griselda, but it's a secret, and I mustn't +say. I have a lovely picture in my mind of what the heir ought to be. +Perhaps there is no harm in telling you what my picture is like. Oh, if +you only could see him!" + +"See whom, Philip?" + +"My picture. He is tall and strong and very broad, and he has a look of +Rachel, and his cheeks are brown, and his hair is black, and his arms +are full of muscle, and his shoulders are perfectly square, and he holds +himself up so erect, just as if he was drilled. He is strong beyond +anybody else I know, and yet he is kind; he wouldn't hurt even a fly. +Oh, if you only knew him. He's my picture of an heir!" + +Phil's face flushed and his lovely eyes shone. Aunt Griselda stooped +down and kissed him. + +"You are a queer boy," she said. "You have described your ancestor, +Rupert Lovel, to the life. Well, child, may you too have the brave and +kindly soul. Phil, after the summer, when all is decided, you are to go +to a preparatory school for Eton and then to Eton itself. All the men of +our house have been educated there. Afterward I suppose you must go to +Oxford. Your responsibilities will be great, little man, and you must be +educated to take them up properly." + +"Mother will be pleased with all this," said Phil; "only I do wish--yes, +I can't help saying it--that my picture was the heir. Oh, Aunt Grizel, +do, do look at that lovely spider!" + +"I believe the boy is more interested in those wretched spiders and +caterpillars than he is in all the position and wealth which lies before +him," thought Miss Griselda. + +Late on that same day she said to Miss Katharine: + +"Phil this morning drew a perfect picture, both mental and physical, of +our ancestor, Katharine." + +"Oh," said Miss Katharine; "I suppose he was studying the portrait. +Griselda, I see plainly that you mean to give the boy the place." + +"Provided his mother can prove his descent," answered Miss Griselda in a +gentle, satisfied tone. "But of that," she added, "I have not, of +course, the smallest doubt." + +"Does it occur to you, Griselda, to remember that on the 5th of May +Rachel's and Kitty's mother comes here to claim her children?" + +"If she is alive," said Miss Griselda. "I have my doubts on that head. +We have not had a line from her all these years." + +"You told her she was not to write." + +"Yes, but is it likely a woman of that class would keep her word?" + +"Griselda, you will be shocked with me for saying so, but the young +woman who came here on the day our father died was a lady." + +"Katharine! she served in a shop." + +"No matter, she was a lady; her word to her would be sacred. I don't +believe she is dead. I am sure she will come here on the 5th of May." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII.--RIGHT IS RIGHT. + + +When Rupert Lovel and his boy left the gloomy lodgings where Rachel's +and Kitty's mother was spending a few days, they went home in absolute +silence. The minds of both were so absorbed that they did not care to +speak. Young Rupert was a precocious lad, old and manly beyond his +years. Little Phil scarcely exaggerated when he drew glowing pictures of +this fine lad. The boy was naturally brave, naturally strong, and all +the circumstances of his bringing-up had fostered these qualities. His +had been no easy, bread-and-butter existence. He had scarcely known +poverty, for his father had been well off almost from his birth; but he +had often come in contact with danger, and latterly sorrow had met him. +He loved his mother passionately; even now he could scarcely speak of +her without a perceptible faltering in his voice, without a dimness +softening the light of his bright eagle eyes. Rupert at fifteen was in +all respects some years older than an English boy of the same age. It +would have struck any parent or guardian as rather ridiculous to send +this active, clever, well-informed lad to school. The fact was, he had +been to Nature's school to some purpose, and had learned deeply from +this most wonderful of all teachers. + +When Rupert and his father reached the hotel in Jermyn Street where they +were staying, the boy looked the man full in the face and broke the +silence with these words: + +"Now, father, is it worth it?" + +"Is it worth what, my son?" + +"You know, father. After hearing that lady talk I don't want Avonsyde." + +The elder Lovel frowned. He was silent for a moment; then he laid his +hand on the boy's shoulder. + +"Look me in the face, lad, and answer me a question." + +"Yes, father." + +"Do you trust me?" + +"Why, of course. Can you doubt it?" + +"Then go to bed and to sleep, and believe that nothing shall be done +which in the slightest degree shall tarnish your honor. Go to bed, boy, +and sleep peacefully, but just put one thought under your pillow. Right +is right and wrong is wrong. It sometimes so happens, Rupert, that it is +not the right and best thing to be simply magnanimous." + +Rupert smiled. + +"I am quite certain you will decide as my mother would have liked best, +sir," he said, and then he took his candle and left the room. + +The greater part of the night the elder Lovel sat up. Early the next +morning he paid the family lawyers a visit. + +"I have made up my mind, Mr. Baring," he said to the younger of these +gentlemen. "For the next few months I shall remain in England, but I +shall not bring my son forward as an heir to the Avonsyde property until +I can claim for him unbroken and direct descent. As I told you +yesterday, there are two unexpected obstacles in my way. I have +sustained a loss--I don't know how. An old tankard and a parcel of +valuable letters cannot be found. I am not leaving a stone unturned to +recover them. When I can lay my hand on the tankard and when, even more +important, I can produce the letters, I can show you by an unbroken +chain of evidence that my boy is the eldest son of the eldest son in +direct descent. I make no claim until I make all claim, Mr. Baring." + +"I have to-day had a letter from the old ladies at Avonsyde," answered +Mr. Baring. "They seem pleased with the boy who is at present claiming +the property. From the tone of Miss Griselda's letter, I should judge +that if your boy does not put in his appearance the child who is at +present at Avonsyde will be publicly recognized as the heir. Even a +public recognition does not really interfere with your son if you can +prove his title; but undoubtedly it will be best for all parties that +you should make your claim before the other child is put into a false +position." + +"When do you anticipate that the old ladies will absolutely decide?" + +"They name a date--the 5th of May." + +"I think I can promise one thing: after the 5th of May neither Rupert +nor I will interfere. We make claim before or on that date, not +afterward. The fact is, we know something of the child who is now at +Avonsyde." + +Mr. Lovel, after enjoining absolute secrecy on the lawyers, went his +way, and that evening had a long interview with Mrs. Lovel. + +"I fear," he said in conclusion, "that in no case would your girls come +into the place, except indeed under certain conditions." + +"What are they?" asked Mrs. Lovel. + +"That we find neither tankard nor letters and in consequence do not make +our claim, and that little Philip Lovel dies." + +"Is he so ill as that?" + +"He is physically unsound. The best doctors in Melbourne have examined +him and do not believe he will live to manhood. His mother comes of an +unhealthy family, and the boy takes after her physically--not mentally, +thank God!" + +"Poor little Phil! He has a wonderfully sweet face." + +"He has the bravest nature I ever met. My boy and girls would almost die +for Phil. The fact is, all this is most complicated and difficult, and +much of the mischief would have been avoided if only that wretched +sister-in-law of mine had been above-board." + +"Yes," answered Mrs. Lovel; "but even her stealing a march on you does +not give you back the tankard nor the letter." + +"True; and I don't suppose even she could have stolen them. Well, +Rachel, we must all hope for the best." + + * * * * * + +"If there is a thing that worries me," said Nancy White to herself--"if +there is a thing that keeps coming and coming into my dreams and getting +that fantastic and that queer in shape--one time being big enough to hold +quarts and quarts of water, and another time so small that you'd think +it would melt before your very eyes--it's this wretched silver can. It's +in my mind all day long and it's in my dreams all night long. There! I +wonder if the bit of a thing is bright enough now." + +As Nancy spoke to herself she rubbed and polished and turned round and +round and tenderly dusted the lost tankard of the house of Lovel until +it really shone like a mirror. + +"It takes a deal of trouble, and I'm sure it isn't worth it," she said +to herself. "I just kept it more out of a bit of mischief than anything +else in the beginning; but it just seems to me now as if I hated it, and +yet I couldn't part with it. I believe it's a bit of a haunted thing, or +it wouldn't come into my dreams after this fashion." + +Nancy kept the tankard up in her bedroom. After giving it a last fond +rub and looking at it queerly with an expression half of admiration, +half of fear, she locked it up in a little cupboard in the wall and +tripped downstairs to attend to her mistress' comforts. + +Mrs. Lovel kept no secrets from her old servant, and Nancy knew about +her mistress' adventures in London and her unexpected meeting with the +friend of her early days, Rupert Lovel. Still, Nancy had a shrewd +suspicion that not quite all was told her; she had a kind of idea that +there was something in the background. + +"It comes over me," she said to herself--"it comes over me that unless I, +Nancy White, am as sharp as sharp and as cunning as cunning, my missus +and my young ladies will be done. What is it that the missus is keeping +in the back of her head to make her look that dreamy, and that wistful, +and that despairing, and yet that hopeful? My word, if I haven't seen +her smile as if she was almost glad once or twice. Poor dear! maybe she +knows as that little delicate chap can't be the heir; and as to the +others--the old gentleman and the fine young lad from the other side of +the earth--why, if they have a claim to make, why don't they make it? And +if they don't make it, then, say I, it's because they can't. Well, now, +anything is better than suspense, and I'll question my missus on that +very point straight away." + +Accordingly, when Nancy had arranged the tea-tray in the most tempting +position and stirred the fire into the cheeriest blaze, she knelt down +before it and began to make some crisp and delicious toast. Nancy knew +that Mrs. Lovel had a weakness for the toast she made, and she also knew +that such an employment was very favorable to confidential conversation. + +"Well, ma'am," she said suddenly, having coughed once or twice and gone +through one or two other little maneuvers to attract attention--"well, +ma'am, I wants to have my mind eased on a certain point. Is it, ma'am, +or is it not the case that the old gentleman from Australia means to do +you a mischief?" + +"What do you mean, Nancy?" exclaimed Mrs. Lovel, laying down the lace +which she was embroidering and gazing at her old servant in some +astonishment. "The old gentleman from Australia? Why, Rupert Lovel +cannot be more than forty. He is a man in his prime, splendidly strong; +and as to his doing me a mischief, I believe, you silly old woman, that +he is one of my best friends." + +"The proof of the pudding is in the eating," snorted Nancy. "You'll +excuse me, ma'am, but I'd like to prove that by his actions. He means +that young son of his to get possession of Avonsyde--don't he, ma'am?" + +"His son is the real heir, Nancy. Dear Nancy, I wish to say something. I +must not be covetous for my little girls. If the real and lawful heir +turns up I have not a word to say. Nay, more, I think if I can be glad +on this subject I am glad that he should turn out to be the son of my +early and oldest friend." + +"Oh, yes, ma'am, I'm not a bit surprised about you. Bother that toast, +how it will burn! It's just like you, ma'am, to give up everything for +six blessed years, and to have your heart well-nigh broke and your poor +eyes dimmed with crying, and then in the end, when the cup that you have +been so longing for is almost to your lips, to give up everything again +and to be glad into the bargain. That's just like you, ma'am; but, +you'll excuse me, it ain't like Nancy White, and if you can be glad in +the prospect of seeing your children beggared, I can't; so there!" + +"Dear Nancy," said Mrs. Lovel, laying her hand on the old servant's +shoulder, "how am I to help myself? Both might and right are against me. +Had I not better submit to the inevitable with a good grace?" + +"That bonny little Miss Rachel," continued Nancy, "don't I see her now, +with her eyes flashing as she looked up at me and that fine, imperious +way she had, and 'tell the lady to wear my ring, Nancy,' says she,'and +tell her that I love her,' says she." + +"Little darling," whispered the mother, and raising her hand she pressed +a tiny ring which she wore to her lips. + +"Miss Rachel isn't meant for poverty," continued Nancy, "and what's +more, I'm very sure Miss Kitty isn't either; so, ma'am, I'd like to be +sure whether they are to have it or not; and a question I'd dearly like +to have answered is this: If the middle-aged man, Mr. Rupert Lovel, and +his son have a claim to Avonsyde, why don't they make it? Anything is +better than suspense, say I. Why don't we know the worst and have done +with it?" + +"Why, Nancy, I thought I had told you everything. Mr. Lovel won't make a +claim until he can make a perfect claim. The fact is, some of his +credentials are lost." + +"The toast is done, ma'am. May I make bold to ask what you mean by that? +You had better eat your toast while it is hot and crisp, Mrs. Lovel. The +good gentleman from Australia hasn't to go to the old ladies with a +character in his hand, like a servant looking for a situation?" + +"No, no. Nancy; but he has to bring letters and other tokens to prove +his son's descent, to prove that his son is a true Lovel of Avonsyde of +the elder branch, and unfortunately Mr. Lovel has lost some valuable +letters and an old silver tankard which has been for hundreds of years +in the family, and which was taken from Avonsyde by the Rupert Lovel who +quarreled with his relations." + +Mrs. Level's head was bent over her lace, and she never noticed how red +Nancy's face grew at this moment, nor how she almost dropped the +steaming kettle with which she was about to replenish the tea-pot. + +"Oh, my word!" she exclaimed hastily. "It seems as if toast and kettle +and all was turned spiteful to-night. There's that boiling water flowed +over on my hand. Never mind, ma'am--it ain't nothing. What was it you +were saying was lost, ma'am?" + +"Letters, Nancy, and a tankard." + +"Oh, letters and a tankard. And what may a tankard be like?" + +"This was an old-fashioned silver can, with the Lovel coat of arms and +the motto of their house, 'Tyde what may,' graved on one side. Why, +Nancy, you look quite pale." + +"It's the burn, ma'am, that smarts a little. And so the silver can is +lost? Dear, dear, what a misfortune; and the fine young gentleman can't +get the place noway without it. Is that so or not, ma'am?" + +"Well, Nancy, the tankard seems to be considered a very important piece +of evidence, and Mr. Lovel is not inclined to claim the property for his +son without it. However, he is having careful search made in Australia, +and will probably hear tidings of it any day." + +"That's as Providence wills, ma'am. It's my belief that if the +middle-aged gentleman was to search Australia from tail to head he +wouldn't get no tidings of that bit of a silver mug. Dear, dear, how +this burn on my hand do smart!" + +"You had better put some vaseline on it, Nancy. You look quite upset. I +fear it is worse than you say. Let me look at it." + +"No, no, ma'am; it will go off presently. Dear, what a taking the +gentleman must be in for the silver mug. Well, ma'am, more unlikely +things have happened than that your bonny little ladies should come in +for Avonsyde. Did I happen to mention to you, ma'am, that I saw Master +Phil Lovel yesterday?" + +"No, Nancy. Where and how?" + +"He was with one of the old ladies, ma'am, in the forest. He was talking +to her and laughing and he never noticed me, and you may be sure I kept +well in the background. Eh, but he's a dear little fellow; but if ever +there was a bit of a face on which the shadow rested, it's his." + +"Nancy, Nancy, is he indeed so ill? Poor, dear little boy!" + +"No, ma'am, I don't say he's so particular ill. He walked strong enough +and he looked up into the old lady's face as bright as you please; but +he had the look--I have seen it before, and I never could be mistaken +about that look on any face. Not long for this world was written all +over him. Too good for this world was the way his eyes shone and his +lips smiled. Dear heart, ma'am, don't cry. Such as them is the blessed +ones; they go away to a deal finer place and a grander home than any +Avonsyde." + +"True," said Mrs. Lovel. "I don't cry for that, but I think the child +suffers. He spoke very sorrowfully to me." + +"Well, ma'am, we must all go through it, one way or another. My old +mother used to say to me long ago, 'Nancy, 'tis contrasts as do it. I'm +so tired out with grinding, grinding, and toiling, toiling, that just to +rest and do nothing seems to me as if it would be perfect heaven.' And +the little fellow will be the more glad some day because he has had a +bit of suffering. Dear, dear, ma'am, I can't get out of my head the loss +of that tankard." + +"So it seems, Nancy; the fact seems to have taken complete possession of +you. Were it not absolutely impossible, I could even have said that my +poor honest old Nancy was the thief! There, Nancy, don't look so +startled. Of course I was only joking." + +"Of course, ma'am; but you'll just excuse me if I go and bind up my +burned hand." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII.--FOREST LIFE. + + +The spring came early that year. A rather severe winter gave place to +charming and genial weather. In April it was hot, and the trees made +haste to clothe themselves with their most delicate and fairy green, the +flowers peeped out joyfully, the birds sang from morning till night, and +the forest became paradise. + +Rachel, Kitty, and Phil almost lived there. Miss Griselda and Miss +Katharine had become lenient in the matter of lessons. Miss Griselda was +wise enough to believe in nature's lessons and to think fine fresh air +the best tonic in all the world for both mind and body. Phil was in his +element in the forest. He was always finding new beetles and fresh +varieties of chrysalides, which he and Kitty carefully treasured; and as +to the roots and the flowers and the mosses which these children +collected, even good-natured Newbolt at last gave vent to strong +expressions of disapproval, and asked if the whole of the house was to +be turned topsy-turvy with their messes. + +Phil could do what he liked in his old tower bedroom; his mother never +interfered with him there. This quaint old room was Liberty Hall to +Phil. Here he could groan if he wanted to, or sigh if he wanted to, or +talk his secrets to the silent, faithful walls if he wanted to; and here +he brought his spiders and his beetles and his mosses, and kept them in +odd bottles and under broken glasses, and messed away to his heart's +content without any one saying him nay. + +Downstairs Mrs. Lovel was a most careful and correct mother--never +petting and never spoiling, always on her guard, always watchful and +prim. Miss Griselda was wont to say that with all her follies she had +never come across a more sagacious and sensible mother than Mrs. Lovel. +As a mother she approved of her absolutely; but then Miss Griselda never +saw behind the scenes; she never saw what went on in the tower bedroom, +where Mrs. Lovel would take the boy in her arms, and strain him to her +heart with passionate kisses, and pet him and make much of him, and +consult him, and, above all things, faithfully promise him that after +the 5th of May the burden which was crushing his young life should be +removed, and he might be his own natural and unrestrained self again. + +Mrs. Lovel had got a dreadful fright when she first read young Rupert's +letter; but when day after day and week after week passed and no tidings +of Rupert or his father reached Avonsyde, she began to hope that even +though they were in England, they had come over on business in no way +connected with the old family home; in short, even though they were in +England, they had not seen those advertisements which had almost turned +her head. + +The weeks passed quickly, and she began to breathe freely and to be +almost happy once more. The loss of the tankard was certainly +disquieting, but she felt sure that with the aid of the stolen letters +she could substantiate her boy's claim, and she also reflected that if +the tankard was lost to her it was also lost to her brother-in-law, +Rupert Lovel. + +So life went quite smoothly at Avonsyde, and day after day the weather +became more balmy and springlike, and day after day Miss Griselda's +face wore a softer and gentler expression; for the little heir-apparent +was altogether after her own heart, and she was contented, as all women +are when they find a worthy object to love. + +Miss Katharine too was smiling and happy in these early spring days. She +had never forgotten the face of the mother who had left her two children +in her charge nearly six years ago. That young and agonized face had +haunted her dreams; some words which those poor trembling lips had +uttered had recurred to her over and over. + +"It breaks my heart to part with the children," the mother had said, +"but if in no other way I can provide for their future, I sacrifice +myself willingly. I am willing to obliterate myself for their sakes." + +Miss Katharine had felt, when these words were wrung from a brave and +troubled heart, that pride was indeed demanding a cruel thing; but for +Miss Griselda she would have said: + +"Come here with your children. You are Valentine's wife, and for his +sake we will be good to you as well as them." + +Miss Katharine had longed to say these words, but fear of her elder +sister had kept her silent, and ever since her heart had reproached her. +Now she felt cheerful, for she knew that on Rachel's birthday the mother +of the children would return, and she knew also that when she came she +would not go away again. + +Rachel's charming little face had lost a good deal of its watchful and +unrestful expression during the last few weeks. She had seen Nancy White +more than once, and Nancy had so strongly impressed on her the fact that +on the 5th of May the lady of the forest would reveal herself, and all +the mystery of her secret and her seclusion be explained, that the +little girl grew hopeful and bright and fixed her longing eyes on that +birthday which was to mean so much to so many. Kitty too looked forward +to the 5th of May as to a delightful general holiday; in short, every +one was excited about it, except the child to whom it meant the most of +all. Little Phil alone was unconcerned about the great day--little Phil +alone lived happily in the present, and, if anything, rather put the +future out of sight. To him the thought of the inheritance which on that +day was to be forced upon him was felt to be a heavy burden; but, then, +those little shoulders were already over-weighted, and God knew and +little Phil also knew that they could not bear any added burden. + +Of late little Phil had been very glad to feel that God knew about his +secrets and his cares, and in his own very simple, childish little way +he used lately to ask him not to add to them; and now that he was sure +God knew everything, he ceased to trouble his head very much about all +that was to happen on Rachel's birthday. + +Thus every one at Avonsyde, with the exception of little Phil, was happy +in the future, but he alone was perfectly happy in the present. His +collection of all kinds of natural curiosities grew and multiplied, and +he spent more and more time in the lovely forest. The delicious spring +air did him good, and his mother once more hoped and almost believed +that health and strength lay before him. + +One day, quite toward the end of April, Kitty, his constant companion, +had grown tired and refused to stay out any longer. The day was quite +hot, and the little boy wandered on alone under the shade of the trees. +As usual when quite by himself, he chose the least-frequented paths, and +as usual the vague hope came over him that he might see the lovely green +lady of the forest. No such exquisite vision was permitted to him, but +instead he came suddenly upon Nancy White, who was walking in the forest +and picking up small dry branches and sticks, which she placed in a +large basket hung over her arm. When she saw Phil she started and almost +dropped her basket. + +"Well I never!" she exclaimed. "You has gone and given me a start, +little master." + +"How do you do, Nancy?" said Phil, going up to her, speaking in a polite +voice, and holding out his hand. "How is the lady of the forest? Please +tell her that, I have kept her secret most carefully, that no one knows +it but Rachel, and she knew it long ago. I hope the lady is very well, +Nancy." + +"Yes, my dear, she is well and hopeful. The days are going on, Master +Philip Lovel, and each day as it passes brings a little more hope. I am +sure you are little gentleman enough to keep the lady's secret." + +"Everybody speaks about the days passing and hope growing," said Phil. +"I--I--Nancy, did you ever see the green lady about here? She could bring +me hope. How I wish I could see her!" + +"Now, don't be fanciful, my dear little gentleman," answered Nancy. +"Them thoughts about fairies and such-like are very bad for growing +children. You shouldn't allow your head to wander on such nonsense. +Little boys and girls should attend to their spelling lessons, and eat +plenty, and go to bed early, and then they have no time for fretting +after fairies and such. It isn't canny to hear you talk as you do of the +green lady, Master Phil." + +"Isn't it?" said Phil. "I am sorry. I do wish to see her. I want a gift +from her. Good-by, Nancy. Give my love to the lady." + +"I will so, dear; and tell me, are you feeling any way more perky--like +yourself?" + +"I'm very well, except when I'm very bad," answered Phil. "Just now I'm +as well as possible, but in the evenings I sometimes get tired, and then +it rather hurts me to mount up so many stairs to my tower bedroom; but +oh! I would not sleep in any other room for the world. I love my tower +room." + +"Well, you'll be a very happy little boy soon," said Nancy--"a very +happy, rich little boy; for if folks say true everything has to be given +to you on the 5th of May." + +"A lot of money and lands, you mean," said Phil. "Oh, yes; but they +aren't everything--oh, dear, no! I know what I want, and I am not likely +to have it. Good-by, Nancy; good-by." + +Phil ran off, and Nancy pursued her walk stolidly and soberly. + +"The look grows," she said to herself--"the look grows and deepens. Poor +little lad! he is right enough when he says that gold and lands won't +satisfy him. Well, now, I'm doing him no harm by keeping back the silver +tankard. It's only his good-for-nothing mother as will be put out, and +that middle-aged man in London and that other boy. What do I care for +that other boy, or for any one in all the world but my missus and her +dear little ladies? There, there, that tankard is worse than a nightmare +to me. I hate it, and I'd give all the world never to have seen it; but +there, now that I've got it I'll keep it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV.--A GREAT ALARM. + + +"Katharine," said Miss Griselda to her younger sister, "do you happen to +remember the address of those lodgings in London where we wrote years +ago to Rachel's and Kitty's mother? The 5th of May will be this day +week, and although I dislike the woman, and of course cannot possibly +agree with you as to her being in any sense of the word a lady, yet +still when Griselda Lovel passes her word she does pass it, and I think +it is right, however painful, to give the young woman the invitation for +the 5th of May." + +"We wrote one letter nearly six years ago to No. 10 Abbey Street, +Marshall Road, S.W., London," answered Miss Katharine in a sharp voice +for her. "One letter to a mother about her own children; but that was +the address, Griselda." + +"No. 10 Abbey Street," repeated Miss Griselda. "I shall send the young +woman an invitation to-day. Of course it won't reach her, for she is +dead long ago; but it is only right to send it. Katharine, you don't +look well this morning. Is anything the matter?" + +"Nothing more than usual," answered Miss Katharine. "One letter in six +years to Valentine's wife. Oh, no, I was not likely to forget the +address." + +"Allow me to congratulate you on your excellent memory, my dear. Oh, +here comes Phil's mother. I have much to talk over with her." + +Miss Katharine left the room; her head was throbbing and tears rose +unbidden to her eyes. When she reached the great hall she sat down on an +oak bench and burst into tears. + +"How cruel of Griselda to speak like that of Valentine's wife," she said +under her breath. "If Valentine's wife is indeed dead I shall never know +another happy moment. Oh, Rachel and Kitty, my dears, I did not see you +coming in." + +"Yes, and here is Phil too," said Kitty, dragging him forward. "Why are +you crying, Aunt Katharine? Do dry your tears and look at our lovely +flowers." + +"I am thinking about your mother, children," said Miss Katharine +suddenly. "Does it ever occur to you two thoughtless, happy girls that +you have got a mother somewhere in existence--that she loves you and +misses you?" + +"I don't know my mother," said Kitty. "I can't remember her, but Rachel +can." + +"Yes," said Rachel abruptly. "I'm going all round the world to look for +her by and by. Don't let's talk of her; I can't bear it." + +The child's face had grown pale; a look of absolute suffering filled her +dark and glowing eyes. Miss Katharine was so much astonished at this +little peep into Rachel's deep heart that she absolutely dried her own +tears. Sometimes she felt comforted at the thought of Rachel suffering. +If even one child did not quite forget her mother, surely this fact +would bring pleasure to the mother by and by. + +Meanwhile Miss Griselda was holding a solemn and somewhat alarming +conversation with poor Mrs. Lovel. In the first place, she took the good +lady into the library--a dark, musty-smelling room, which gave this +vivacious and volatile person, as she expressed it, "the horrors" on the +spot. Miss Griselda having secured her victim and having seated her on +one of the worm-eaten, high-backed chairs, opened the book-case marked D +and took from it the vellum-bound diary which six years ago she had +carried to the old squire's bedroom. From the musty pages of the diary +Miss Griselda read aloud the story of the great quarrel; she read in an +intensely solemn voice, with great emphasis and even passion. Miss +Griselda knew this part of the history of her house so well that she +scarcely needed to look at the words of the old chronicler. + +"It may seem a strange thing to you, Mrs. Lovel," she said when she had +finished her story--"a strange and incomprehensible thing that your +white-faced and delicate-looking little boy should in any way resemble +the hero of this quarrel." + +"Phil is not delicate," feebly interposed Mrs. Lovel. + +"I said delicate-looking. Pray attend to me. The Rupert who quarreled +with his father--I will confess to you that my sympathies are with +Rupert--was in the right. He was heroic--a man of honor; he was brave and +stalwart and noble. Your boy reminds me of him--not in physique, no, no! +but his spirit looks out of your boy's eyes. I wish to make him the heir +of our house." + +"Oh, Miss Griselda, how can a poor, anxious mother thank you enough?" + +"Don't thank me at all. I do it in no sense of the word for you. The boy +pleases me; he has won on my affections; I--love him." + +Miss Griselda paused. Perhaps never before in the whole course of her +life had she openly admitted that she loved any one. After a period +which seemed interminable to poor Mrs. Lovel she resumed: + +"My regard for the boy is, however, really of small consequence; he can +only inherit under the conditions of my father's will. These conditions +are that he must claim direct descent from the Rupert Lovel who was +treated so unjustly two hundred years ago, and that he has, as far as it +is possible for a boy to have, perfect physical health." + +Mrs. Lovel grew white to her very lips. + +"Phil is perfectly strong," she repeated. + +Miss Griselda stared at her fixedly. + +"I have judged of that for myself," she said coldly. "I have studied +many books on the laws of health and many physiological treatises, and +have trusted to my own observation rather than to any doctor's casual +opinion. The boy is pale and slight, but I believe him to be strong, for +I have tested him in many ways. Without you knowing it I have made him +go through many athletic exercises, and he has often run races in my +presence. I believe him to be sound. We will let that pass. The other +and even more important matter is that he should now prove his descent. +You have shown me some of your proofs, and they certainly seem to me +incontestable, but I have not gone really carefully into the matter. My +lawyer, Mr. Baring, will come down here on the afternoon of the 4th and +carefully go over with you all your letters and credentials. On the 5th +I have incited many friends to come to Avonsyde, and on that occasion +Katharine and I will present Philip to our many acquaintances as our +heir. We will make the occasion as festive as possible, and would ask +you to see that Philip is suitably and becomingly dressed. You know more +of the fashions of the world than we do, so we will leave the matter of +device in your hands, of course bearing all the expense ourselves. By +the way, you have observed in the history I have just read how the old +silver tankard is mentioned. In that terrible scene where Rupert finally +parts with his father, he takes up the tankard and declares that 'Tyde +what may' he will yet return vindicated and honored to the old family +home. That was a prophecy," continued Miss Griselda, rising with +excitement to her feet; "for you have brought the boy and also the very +tankard which Rupert took away with him. I look upon your possession of +the tankard, as the strongest proof of all of the justice of your claim. +By the way, you have never yet shown it to me. Do you mind fetching it +now?" + +Muttering something almost unintelligible, Mrs. Lovel rose and left the +library. She crossed the great hall, opened the oak door which led to +the tower staircase, and mounting the winding and worn stairs, presently +reached her bedroom. The little casement windows were opened, and the +sweet air of spring was filling the quaint chamber. Mrs. Lovel shut and +locked the door; then she went to one of the narrow and slit-like +windows and looked out. A wide panorama of lovely landscape lay before +her; miles of forest lands undulated away to the very horizon; the air +was full of the sweet songs of many birds; the atmosphere was perfumed +with all the delicious odors of budding flowers and opening leaves. In +its way nothing could have been more perfect; and it was for Phil--all +for Phil! All the beauty and the glory and the loveliness, all the +wealth and the comfort and the good position, were for Phil, her only +little son. Mrs. Lovel clasped her hands, and bitter tears came to her +eyes. The cup was almost to the boy's lips. Was it possible that +anything could dash it away now? + +The tankard--she was sent to fetch the silver tankard--the tankard which +Phil himself had lost! What could she do? How could she possibly frame +an excuse? She dared not tell Miss Griselda that her boy had lost it. +She felt so timid, so insecure, that she dared not confess what an +ordinary woman in ordinary circumstances would have done. She dreaded +the gaze of Miss Griselda's cold, unbelieving gray eyes; she dreaded the +short sarcastic speech she would be sure to make. No, no, she dared not +confess; she must dissemble; she must prevaricate; on no account must +she tell the truth. She knew that Miss Griselda was waiting for her in +the library; she also knew that the good lady was not remarkable for +patience; she must do something, and at once. + +In despair she rang the bell, and when Newbolt replied to it she found +Mrs. Lovel lying on her bed with her face partly hidden. + +"Please tell Miss Lovel that I am ill, Newbolt," she said. "I have been +taken with a very nasty headache and trembling and faintness. Ask her if +she will excuse my going downstairs just for the present." + +Newbolt departed with her message, and Mrs. Lovel knew that she had a +few hours' grace. She again locked the door and, rising from her bed, +paced up and down the chamber. She was far too restless to remain quiet. +Was it possible that the loss of the tankard might be, after all, her +undoing? Oh, no! the dearly loved possession was now so close; the +auspicious day was so near; the certainty was at her door. No, no! the +letters were proof of Philip's claim; she need not be so terribly +frightened. Although she reasoned in this way, she felt by no means +reassured, and it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps if she went into +the forest she might find the tankard herself. It might be lying even +now forgotten, unnoticed under some bush beside the treacherous bog +which had almost swallowed up her boy. What a happy thought! Oh, yes, +she herself would go to look for it. + +Mrs. Lovel did not know the forest as Phil and Rachel and Kitty did. The +forest by itself had no charms whatever for her. She disliked its +solitude; she saw no beauty in its scenery; no sweetness came to her +soul from the song of its happy birds or the brilliance of its wild +flowers. No, no--the city and life and movement and gayety for Mrs. +Lovel; she was a poor artificial creature, and Nature was not likely to +whisper her secrets into her ears. + +When Phil came up by and by his mother questioned him minutely as to the +part of the forest into which he had wandered. Of course he could not +tell her much; but she got a kind of idea, and feeble as her knowledge +was she resolved to act on it. + +Early the next morning she rose from an almost sleepless bed, and +carefully dressing so as not to awaken her sleeping boy, she stole +downstairs and, as Phil had done some months before, let herself out by +a side entrance into the grounds. It was winter when Phil had gone on +his little expedition--a winter's morning, with its attendant cold and +damp and gloom; but now the spring sun was already getting up, the dew +sparkled on the grass, and the birds were having a perfect chorus of +rejoicing. Even Mrs. Lovel, unimpressionable as she was to all nature's +delights, was influenced by the crisp and buoyant air and the sense of +rejoicing which the birds and flowers had in common. She stepped quits +briskly into the forest and said to herself: + +"My spirits are rising; that terrible depression I underwent yesterday +is leaving me. I take this as a good omen and believe that I may find +the tankard." + +Phil had given her certain directions, and for some time she walked on +bravely, expecting each moment to come to the spot where the boy had +assured her the beaten track ended and she must plunge into the recesses +of the primeval forest itself. Of course she lost her way, and after +wandering along for some hours, seated herself in an exhausted state at +the foot of a tree, and there, without in the least intending to do so, +fell asleep. + +Mrs. Lovel was unaccustomed to any physical exercise, and her long walk, +joined to her sleepless night, made her now so overpoweringly drowsy +that she not only slept, but slept heavily. + +In her sleep she knew nothing at all of the advance the day was making. +The sun's rays darting through the thick foliage of the giant oak tree +under which she slumbered did not in the least disturb her, and when +some robins made their breakfast close by and twittered and talked to +one another she never heard them. Some rabbits and some squirrels peeped +at her quite saucily, but they never even ruffled her placid repose. Her +head rested against the tree, her bonnet was slightly pushed back, and +her hands lay folded over each other in her lap. + +Presently there was a sound of footsteps, and a woman came up and bent +over the sleeping lady in the forest. The woman was dressed in a short +petticoat, strong boots, a striped jersey jacket, and a shawl thrown +over her head; she carried a basket on her arm and she was engaged in +her favorite occupation of picking sticks. + +"Dearie me! now, whoever is this?" said Nancy White as she bent over +Phil's mother. "Dearie, dearie, a poor white-looking thing; no bone or +muscle or go about her, I warrant. And who has she a look of? I know +some one like her--and yet--no, it can't be--no. Is it possible that she +features pretty little Master Phil?" + +Nancy spoke half-aloud, and came yet nearer and bent very low indeed +over the sleeper. + +"She do feature Master Phil and she has got the dress of a fine lady. +Oh, no doubt she's his poor, weak bit of a mother! Bless the boy! No +wonder he's ailing if she has the mothering of him." + +Nancy's words were all muttered half-aloud, and under ordinary occasions +such sounds would undoubtedly have awakened Mrs. Lovel; now they only +caused her to move restlessly and to murmur some return words in her +sleep. + +"Phil, if we cannot find that tankard we are undone." Then after a +pause: "It is a long way to the bog. I wonder if Phil has left the +tankard on the borders of the bog." + +On hearing these sentences, which were uttered with great distinctness +and in accents almost bordering on despair, Nancy suddenly threw her +basket to the ground; then she clasped her two hands over her head and, +stepping back a pace or two, began to execute a hornpipe, to the intense +astonishment of some on-lookers in the shape of birds and squirrels. + +"Ah, my lady fair!" she exclaimed, "what you have let out now makes +assurance doubly sure. And so you think you'll find the precious tankard +in the bog! Now, now, what shall I do? How can I prevent your going any +further on such a fool's quest? Ah, my pretty little ladies, my pretty +Miss Rachel and Miss Kitty, I believe I did you a good turn when I hid +that tankard away." + +Nancy indulged in a few more expressions of self-congratulation then, a +sudden idea coming to her, she fumbled in her pocket for a bit of paper, +and scribbling something on it laid it on the sleeping lady's lap. + +When Mrs. Lovel awoke, somewhere close on midday, she took up the little +piece of paper and read its contents with startled eyes: + + "Come what may come, tyde what may tyde, + Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde. + + "False heirs never yet have thriven; + Tankards to the right are given." + +The last two lines, which Nancy had composed in a perfect frenzy of +excitement and rapture at what she considered a sudden development of +the poetic fancy, caused poor Mrs. Lovel's cheeks to blanch and her eyes +to grow dim with a sudden overpowering sense of fear. She rose to her +feet and pursued her way home, trembling in every limb. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV.--A DREAM WITH A MEANING. + + +Phil had a dream which had a great effect on him. There were several +reasons for this. In the first place, it wanted but two days to the +great 5th of May; in the second place, he was feeling really ill, so was +making greater efforts than usual to conceal all trace of languor or +weariness; in the third place, Rachel came to him about half an hour +before he went upstairs to bed and burst out crying, and told him she +knew something was going to happen. Rachel was not a child who was +particularly given to tears, but when she did cry she cried stormily. +She showed a good deal of excitement of a passionate and over-wrought +little heart to Phil now, and when he questioned her and asked her why +she was so excited about her birthday, she murmured first something +about the lady of the forest and then about her mother, and then, afraid +of her own words, she ran away before Phil could question her further. +Phil's own mother, too, seemed to be in a most disturbed and unnatural +state. She was always conning a piece of paper and then putting it out +of sight, and her eyes had red rims round them, and when Phil questioned +her she owned that she had been crying, and felt, as she expressed it, +"low." All these things combined caused Phil to lay his head on his +white pillow with a weary sigh and to go off into the land of dreams by +no means a perfectly happy little boy. + +Once there, however, he was happy enough. In the first place, he was out +of his bed and out of the old house, where so many people just now +looked anxious and troubled; and, in the second place, he was in a +beautiful new forest, his feet treading on velvet grass, his eyes gazing +at all those lovely sights in which his little soul delighted. He was in +the forest and he was well, quite well; the tiredness and the aching had +vanished, the weakness had disappeared; he felt as though wings had been +put to his feet, as though no young eagle could feel a keener and +grander sense of strength than did he. He was in the forest, and coming +to meet him under the shadows of the great trees was a lady--the lady he +had searched for so long and hitherto searched for in vain. She came +quite naturally and gently up to him, took his little hand, looked into +his eyes, and stooping down she touched his fore head with her lips. + +"Brave little boy!" she said. "So you have come." + +"Yes," answered Phil, "and you have come. I have waited for you so long. +Have you brought the gift?" + +"Beauty of face and of heart. Yes, I bring them both," answered the +lady. "They are yours; take them." + +"My mother," whispered Phil. + +"Your mother shall be cared for, but you and she will soon part. You +have done all you could for her--all, even to life itself. You cannot do +more. Come with me." + +"Where?" asked Phil. + +"Are you not tired of the world? Come with me to Fairyland. Take my +hand--come! There you will find perpetual youth and beauty and strength +and goodness--come!" + +Then Phil felt within himself the wildest, the most intense longing to +go. He looked in the lady's face, and he thought he must fly into her +arms; he must lay his head on her breast and ask her to soothe all his +life troubles away. + +"I know you," he said suddenly. "Some people call you by another name, +but I know who you are. You give little tired boys like me great rest; +and I want beyond words to go with you, but there is my mother." + +"Your mother will be cared for. Come. I can give you something better +than Avonsyde." + +"Oh, I don't want Avonsyde! I am not the rightful heir." + +"The rightful heir is coming," interrupted the lady of the forest. "Look +for him on the 5th of May, and look for me too there. Farewell!" + +She vanished, and Phil awoke, to find his mother sitting by his bedside, +her face bent over him, her eyes wide open with terror. + +"Oh, my darling, how you have looked! Are you--are you very ill?" + +"No, mammy dear," answered the little boy, sitting up in the bed and +kissing her in his tenderest fashion. "I have had a dream and I know +what is coming, but I don't feel very ill." + +Mrs. Lovel burst into floods of weeping. + +"Phil," she said when she could speak through her sobs, "it is so near +now--only one other day. Can you not keep up just for one more day?" + +"Yes, mother; oh, yes, mother dear. I have had a dream. Hold my hand, +mother, and I will try and go to sleep again. I have had a dream. +Everything is quite plain now. Hold my hand, mammy dear. I love you; you +know that." + +He lay back again on his pillows and, exhausted, fell asleep. + +Mrs. Lovel held the little thin hand and looked into the white face, and +never went to bed that night. Ever since her sleep in the forest she had +been perturbed and anxious; that mysterious bit of paper had troubled +her more than she cared to own. She was too weak-natured a woman not to +be more or less influenced by superstition, and she could not help +wondering what mysterious being had come to her and, reading her heart's +secret, had told her to bid good-by to hope. + +But all her fears and apprehensions had been nothing, had been child's +play, compared to the terror which awoke in her heart when she saw the +look on her boy's face as she bent over him that night. She knew that he +bad never taken kindly to her scheme; she knew that personally he cared +nothing at all for all the honors and greatness she would thrust upon +him. He was doing it for her sake; he was trying hard to become a rich +man some day for her sake; he was giving up Rupert whom he loved and the +simple life which contented him for her. Oh, yes, because, as he so +simply said, he loved her. But she laid too heavy a burden on the young +shoulders; the long strain of patient endurance had been too much, and +the gallant little life was going out. + +On the instant, quick, quick as thought, there overmastered this weak +and selfish woman a great, strong tide of passionate mother's love. What +was Avonsyde to her compared to the life of her boy? Welcome any poverty +if the boy might be saved! She fell on her knees and wept and wrung her +hands and prayed long and piteously. + +When in the early, early dawn Phil awoke, his mother spoke to him. + +"Philip dear, you would like to see Rupert again?" + +"So much, mother." + +"Avonsyde is yours, but you would like to give it to him?" + +"If I might, mother--if I might!" + +"Leave it to me, my son. Say nothing--leave it to me, my darling." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI.--LOVE VERSUS GOLD. + + +"Katharine!" + +"Yes." + +"I have received the most extraordinary letter." + +"What about, Grizel?" + +"What about? Had you not better ask me first who from? Oh, no, you need +not turn so pale. It is not from that paragon of your life, Rachel's and +Kitty's mother." + +"Grizel, I do think you might speak more tenderly of one who has done +you no harm and who has suffered much." + +"Well, well, let that pass. You want to know who my present +correspondent is. She is no less a person than the mother of our heir." + +"Phil's mother! Why should she write? She is in the house. Surely she +can use her tongue." + +"She is not in the house and is therefore obliged to have recourse to +correspondence. Listen to her words." + +Miss Griselda drew out of her pocket an envelope which contained a sheet +of thick note-paper. The envelope was crested; so was the paper. The +place from which it was written was Avonsyde; the date was early that +morning. A few words in a rather feeble and uncertain hand filled the +page. + + "Dear Miss Lovel: I hope you and Miss Katharine will excuse me. I have + made up my mind to see your lawyer, Mr. Baring, in town. I know you + intended him to come here this afternoon, but if I catch the early + train I shall reach his office in time to prevent him. I believe I can + explain all about proofs and credentials better in town than here. I + shall come back in time to-morrow. Don't let Phil be agitated. Yours + humbly and regretfully, + + "Bella Lovel." + +"What does she mean by putting such an extra ordinary ending to her +letter?" continued Miss Grizel as she folded up the sheet of paper and +returned it to its envelope. "'Yours humbly and regretfully!' What does +she mean, Katharine?" + +"It sounds like a woman who had a weight on her conscience," said Miss +Katharine. "I wonder if Phil really is the heir! You know, Grizel, she +never showed you the tankard. She made a great talk about it, but you +never really saw it. Don't you remember?" + +"Nonsense!" snapped Miss Grizel. "Is it likely she would even know about +the tankard if she had not got it? She was ill that day. Newbolt said +she looked quite dreadful, and I did not worry her again, as I knew Mr. +Baring was coming down to-day to go thoroughly into the whole question. +She certainly has done an extraordinary thing in writing that letter and +going up to London in that stolen sort of fashion; but as to Phil not +being the heir, I think the fact of his true title to the property is +pretty clearly established by this time. Katharine, I read you this +letter in order to get a suggestion from you. I might have known +beforehand that you had none to make. I might have known that you would +only raise some of your silly doubts and make things generally +uncomfortable. Well, I am displeased with Mrs. Lovel; but there, I never +liked her. I shall certainly telegraph to Mr. Baring and ask him to come +down here this evening, all the same." + +Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine had held their brief little colloquy in +the old library. They now went into the hall, where family prayers were +generally held, and soon afterward Miss Griselda sent off her telegram. +She received an answer in the course of a couple of hours: + + "Have not seen Mrs. Lovel. Will come down as arranged." + +But half an hour before the dog-cart was to be sent to the railway +station to meet the lawyer another little yellow envelope was thrust +into Miss Lovel's hands. It was dated from the lawyer's chambers and ran +as follows: + + "Most unexpectedly detained. Cannot come to-night. Expect me with Mrs. + Lovel to-morrow." + +This telegram made Miss Griselda very angry. + +"What possible information can detain Mr. Baring when I summon him +here?" she said to her younger sister. She was doomed, however, to be +made yet more indignant. A third telegram arrived at Avonsyde early in +the evening; it also was from Mr. Baring: + + "Disquieting news. Put off your guests. Expect me early to-morrow." + +Miss Griselda's face grew quite pale. She threw the thin sheet of paper +indignantly on the floor. + +"Mr. Baring strangely forgets himself," she said. "Put off our guests! +Certainly not!" + +"But, Griselda," said Miss Katharine, "our good friend speaks of +disquieting news. It may be--it may be something about the little girls' +mother. Oh, I always did fear that something had happened to her." + +"Katharine, you are perfectly silly about that woman. But whatever Mr. +Baring's news, our guests are invited and they shall come. Katharine, I +look on to-morrow as the most important day of my life. On that day, +when I show our chosen and rightful heir to the world--for our expected +guests form the world to us, Katharine--on that day I fulfill the +conditions of my dear father's will. Do you suppose that any little +trivial disturbance which may have taken place in London can alter plans +so important as mine?" + +"I don't think Mr. Baring would have telegraphed if the disturbance was +trivial," murmured Miss Katharine. But she did not venture to add any +more and soon went sadly out of the room. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Lovel was having a terribly exciting day. Impelled by a +motive stronger than the love of gold, she had slipped away from Phil's +bedside in the early morning, and, fear lending her wings, had gone +downstairs, written her note to Miss Griselda, and then on foot had made +her way to the nearest railway station at Lyndhurst Road. There she took +the first train to London. She had a carriage to herself, and she was so +restless that she paced up and down its narrow length. It seemed to her +that the train would never reach its destination; the minutes were +lengthened into hours; the hours seemed days. When, when would she get +to Waterloo? When would she see Mr. Baring? Beside her in the railway +carriage, beside her in the cab, beside her as she mounted the stairs to +the lawyer's office was pale-faced fear. Could she do anything to keep +the boy? Could any--any act of hers cause the avenger to stay his +hand--cause the angel of death to withdraw and leave his prey untouched? +In the night, as she had watched by his bedside, she had seen only too +plainly what was coming. Avonsyde might be given to Phil, but little +Phil himself was going away. The angels wanted him elsewhere, and they +would not mind any amount of mother's weeping, of mother's groans; they +would take the boy from her arms. Then it occurred to her poor, weak +soul for the first time that perhaps if she appealed to God he would +listen, and if she repented, not only in word, but in deed, he would +stay his avenging hand. Hence her hurried flight; hence her anguished +longing. She had not a moment to lose, for the sands of her little boy's +life were running out. + +She was early in town, and was shown into Mr. Baring's presence very +soon after his arrival at his office. Unlike most of the +heirs-presumptive to the Avonsyde property, Phil had not been subjected +to the scrutiny of this keen-eyed lawyer. From the very first Miss +Griselda had been more or less under a spell as regards little Phil. His +mother in writing to her from Australia had mentioned one or two facts +which seemed to the good lady almost conclusive, and she had invited her +and the boy direct to Avonsyde without, as in all other cases, +interviewing them through her lawyer. + +Mr. Baring therefore had not an idea who his tall, pale, +agitated-looking visitor could be. + +"Sit down," he said politely. "Can I assist you in any way? Perhaps, if +all the same to you, you would not object to going very briefly into +matters to-day; to-morrow--no, not to-morrow--Thursday I can carefully +attend to your case. I happen to be called into the country this +afternoon and am therefore in a special hurry. If your case can wait, +oblige me by mentioning the particulars briefly and making an +appointment for Thursday." + +"My case cannot wait," replied Mrs. Lovel in a hard, strained voice. "My +case cannot wait an hour, and you need not go into the country. I have +come to prevent your doing so." + +"But, madam----" + +"I am Mrs. Lovel." + +"Another Mrs. Lovel? Another heir forthcoming? God help those poor old +ladies!" + +"I am the mother of the boy who to-morrow is to be publicly announced as +the future proprietor of Avonsyde." + +"You! Then you have come from Avonsyde?" + +"I have. I have come to tell you a terrible and disastrous story." + +"My dear madam, pray don't agitate yourself; pray take things quietly. +Would you like to sit in this easy-chair?" + +"No, thank you. What are easy-chairs to me? I want to tell my story." + +"So you shall--so you shall. I trust your boy is not ill?" + +"He is very ill; he is--good God! I fear he is dying. I have come to you +as the last faint chance of saving him." + +"My dear Mrs. Lovel, you make a mistake. I am a lawyer, not a physician. +'Pon my word, I'm truly sorry for you, and also for Miss Griselda. Her +heart is quite set on that boy." + +"Listen! I have sinned. I was tempted; I sinned. He is not the heir." + +"My good lady, you can scarcely know what you are saying. You would +hardly come to me with this story at the eleventh hour. Miss Lovel tells +me you have proofs of undoubted succession. I was going to Avonsyde this +afternoon to look into them, but only as a form--merely as a form." + +"You can look into them now; they are correct enough. There were two +brothers who were lineally descended from that Rupert Lovel who +quarreled with his father two hundred years ago. The brothers' names +were Rupert and Philip. Philip died and left a son; Rupert lives and has +a son. Rupert is the elder of the brothers and his son is the true heir, +because--because----" + +Here Mrs. Lovel rose to her feet. + +"Because he has got what was denied to my only boy--glorious health and +glorious strength. He therefore perfectly fulfills the conditions of the +late Squire Lovel's will." + +"But--but I don't understand," said the lawyer. "I have seen--yes, of +course I have seen--but pray tell me everything. How did you manage to +bring proofs of your boy's title to the old ladies?" + +"Why should I not know the history of my husband's house? I saw the old +ladies' advertisement in a Melbourne paper. I knew to what it alluded +and I stole a march on Rupert and his heir. It did not seem to me such a +dreadful thing to do; for Rupert and his boy were rich and Phil and I +were very poor. I stole away to England with my little boy, and took +with me a bundle of letters and a silver tankard which belonged to my +brother-in-law, but which were, I knew, equally valuable in proving +little Philip's descent. All would have gone well but for one thing--my +little boy was not strong. He was brave--no boy ever was braver--and he +kept in all tokens of terrible suffering for my sake. He won upon the +old ladies; everybody loved him. All my plans seemed to succeed, and +to-morrow he is to be appointed heir. To-morrow! What use is it? God has +stretched out his hand and is taking the boy away. He is angry. He is +doing it in anger and to punish me. I am sorry; I am terrified; my heart +is broken. Perhaps if I show God that I repent he will withdraw his +anger and spare my only boy. I have come to you. There is not a moment +to lose. Here are the lost letters. Find the rightful heir." + +Mr. Baring was disturbed and agitated. He got up and locked the door; he +paced up and down his room several times; then he came up to the woman +who was now crouching by the table, her face hidden in her hands. + +"Are you aware," he said softly, for he feared the effect of his +words--"are you aware that Rupert Lovel and his boy are now in London?" + +Mrs. Lovel raised her head. + +"I guessed it. Thank God! then I am in time." + +"Your news is indeed of the most vital importance. I must telegraph to +Avonsyde. I cannot go there this afternoon. The whole case must be +thoroughly investigated, and at once. I require your aid for this. Will +you return with me to Avonsyde to-morrow?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"It will be a painful exposure for you. Do you realize it?" + +"I realize nothing. I want to hold Phil to my heart; that is the only +desire I now possess." + +"Poor soul! You have acted--I won't say how; it is not for me to preach. +I will telegraph to Miss Griselda and then go with you to find Rupert +Lovel and his boy." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII.--TWO MOTHERS. + + +"Here is a letter for you, ma'am." + +Nancy was standing by her mistress, who, in a traveling cloak and +bonnet, had just come home. + +"For me, Nancy?" said the lady of the forest in a tired voice. "Who can +want to write to me? And yet, and yet--give it to me, Nancy." + +"It has the London postmark, ma'am. Dear heart, how your hands do +shake!" + +"It is evening, Nancy, and to-morrow will be the 5th of May. Can you +wonder that my hands shake? Only one brief summer's night, and my day of +bliss arrives!" + +"Read your letter, ma'am; here it is." + +Mrs. Lovel received the envelope with its many postmarks, for it had +traveled about and performed quite a little pilgrimage since it left +Avonsyde some days ago. Something in the handwriting caused her to +change color; not that it was in the ordinary sense familiar, but in a +very extraordinary manner it was known and sacred. + +"The ladies of Avonsyde have been true to the letter of their promise!" +she exclaimed. "This, Nancy," opening her letter and glancing hastily +through it, "is the invitation I was promised six years ago for Rachel's +thirteenth birthday. It has been sent to the old, old address. The +ladies have not forgotten; they have kept to the letter of their +engagement. Nancy dear, let me weep. Nancy, to-morrow I can make my own +terms. Oh, I could cry just because of the lifting of the pain!" + +"Don't, my dear lady," said Nancy. "Or--yes, do, if it eases you. The +dear little lassies will be all right to-morrow--won't they, Mrs. Lovel?" + +"I shall see them again, Nancy, if you mean that." + +"Yes, of course; but they'll be heiresses and everything--won't they?" + +"Of course not. What do you mean?" + +"I thought Master Phil had no chance now that the tankard is really lost +and can never be found." + +"What do you know about the tankard?" + +"Nothing. How could I? What less likely? Oh! look, ma'am; there's a +carriage driving through the forest, right over the green grass, as sure +as I'm here. Now it's stopping, and four people are getting out--a lady +and three gentlemen; and they are coming here--right over to the cottage +as straight as an arrow from a bow. Oh, mercy me! What do this mean?" + +"Only some tourists, I expect. Nancy, don't excite yourself." + +"No, ma'am, begging your pardon, they ain't tourists. Here they're all +stepping into the porch. What do it mean? and we has nothing at all in +the house for supper!" + +A loud peal was now heard from the little bell. Nancy, flushed and +agitated, went to open the door, and a moment later Mr. Baring, Mrs. +Lovel, and Rupert Lovel and his son found themselves in the presence of +the lady of the forest. Nancy, recognizing Mrs. Lovel and concluding +that she had discovered all about the theft of the tankard, went and hid +herself in her own bedroom, from where she did not descend, even though +she several times fancied she heard her mistress ring for her. + +This, however, was not the case; for a story was being told in that tiny +parlor which caused the very remembrance of Nancy to fade from all the +listeners' brains. Mrs. Lovel, little Philip's mother, was the +spokeswoman. She told her whole story from beginning to end, very much +as she had told it twice already that day. Very much the same words were +used, only now as she proceeded and as her eyes grew dim with the agony +that rent her heart, she was suddenly conscious of a strange and +unlooked-for sympathy. The other mother went up to her side and, taking +her hand, led her to a seat beside herself. + +"Do not stand," she whispered; "you can tell what you have to say better +sitting." + +And still she kept her hand within her own and held it firmly. By +degrees the poor, shaken, and tempest-tossed woman began to return this +firm and sympathizing pressure; and when her words died away in a +whisper, she turned suddenly and looked full into the face of the +mysterious lady of the forest. + +"I have committed a crime," she said, "but now that I have confessed +all, will God spare the boy's life?" + +The other Mrs. Lovel looked at her then with her eyes full of tears, and +bending forward she suddenly kissed her. + +"Poor mother!" she said. "I know something of your suffering." + +"Will the boy live? Will God be good to me?" + +"Whether he lives or dies God will be good to you. Try to rest on that." + + * * * * * + +That same evening Miss Katharine tried to soothe away some of the +restlessness and anxiety which oppressed her by playing on the organ in +the hall. Miss Katharine could make very wonderful music; this was her +one great gift. She had been taught well, and when her fingers touched +either piano or organ people were apt to forget that at other times she +was nothing but a weak-looking, uninteresting middle-aged lady. Seated +at the organ, Miss Katharine's eyes would shine with a strange, new +radiance. There was a power, a sympathy in her touch; her notes were +seldom loud or martial, but they appealed straight to the innermost +hearts of those who listened. + +Miss Katharine did not very often play. Music with her meant something +almost as sacred as a sacrament; she could not bring her melodies into +the common everyday life; but when her soul burned within her, when she +sought to express a dumb pain or longing, she went to the old organ for +comfort. + +On this evening, as the twilight fell, she sat down at the organ and +began to play some soft, pitiful strains. The notes seemed to cry, as if +they were in pain. One by one the children stole into the hall and came +up close to her. Phil came closest; he leaned against her side and +listened, his sweet brown eyes reflecting her pain. + +"Don't!" he said suddenly. "Comfort us; things aren't like that." + +Miss Katharine turned round and looked at the little pale-faced boy, +from him to Rachel--whose eyes were gleaming--to Kitty, who was +half-crying. + +"Things aren't like that," repeated Phil. "Play something true." + +"Things are like this," answered Miss Katharine; "things are very, very +wrong." + +"They aren't," retorted Phil. "Any one to hear you would think God +wasn't good." + +Miss Katharine paused; her fingers trembled; they scarcely touched the +keys. + +"Play joyfully," continued Phil; "play as if you believed in him." + +"Oh, Phil, I do!" said the poor lady. "Yes, yes, I will play as if I +believed." + +Tears filled her eyes. She struck the organ with powerful chords, and +the whole little party burst out in the grand old chant, "Abide with +me." + +"Now let us sing 'O Paradise,'" said Phil when it was ended. + +The children had sweet voices. Miss Katharine played her gentlest; Miss +Griselda slipped unseen into the hall and sat down near Phil. The +children sang on, hymn after hymn, Phil always choosing. + +At last Miss Katharine rose and closed the organ. + +"My heart is at rest," she said gently, and she stooped down and kissed +Phil. Then she went out of the hall, Rachel and Kitty following her. +Phil alone had noticed Miss Griselda; he went up to her now and nestled +down cozily by her side. He had a very confiding way and not a scrap of +fear of any one. Most people were afraid of Miss Griselda. Phil's total +want of fear in her presence made one of his greatest charms for her. + +"Wasn't the music nice?" he said now. "Didn't you like those hymns? +Hasn't Rachel a beautiful voice?" + +"Rachel will sing well," answered Miss Griselda. "She must have the best +masters. Philip, to-morrow is nearly come." + +"The 5th of May? Yes, so it has." + +"It is a great day for you, my little boy." + +"Yes, I suppose it is. Aunt Griselda, when do you think my mother will +be home?" + +"I don't know, Philip--I don't know where she has gone." + +"I think I do. I think she's gone to get you a great surprise." + +"She should not have gone away to-day, when there was so much to be +done." + +"You won't say that when you know. Aunt Grizel, you'll always be good to +mother--won't you?" + +"Why, of course, dear; she is your mother." + +"But even if she wasn't my mother--I mean even if I wasn't there, you'd +be good to her. I wish you'd promise me." + +"Of course, Phil--of course; but as you are going to be very much there, +there's no use in thinking of impossible things." + +Phil sighed. + +"Aunt Griselda," he said gently, "do you think I make a very suitable +heir?" + +"Yes, dear--very suitable." + +"I'm glad you love me; I'm very, very glad. Tell me about the Rupert +Lovel who went away two hundred years ago. He wasn't really like me?" + +"In spirit he was, I don't doubt." + +"Yes; but he wasn't like me in appearance. I'm small and thin and pale, +and he--Aunt Griselda, wouldn't your heart beat and wouldn't you be glad +if an heir just like the old Rupert Lovel came home? If he had just the +same figure, and just the same grand flashing eyes, and just the same +splendid strength, wouldn't you be glad? Wouldn't it be a joyful +surprise to you?" + +"No, Phil, for my heart is set on a certain little pale-faced boy. Now +don't let us talk about nonsensical things. Come, you must have your +supper and go to bed; you will have plenty of excitement to-morrow and +must rest well." + +"One moment, please. Aunt Grizel, tell me--tell me, did you ever see the +lady of the forest?" + +"Phil, my dear child, what do you mean?" + +"The beautiful lady who wears a green dress, greener than the leaves, +and has a lovely face, and brings a gift in her hand. Did you ever see +her?" + +"Philip, I can't stay any longer in this dark hall. Of course I never +saw her. There is a legend about her--a foolish, silly legend; but you +don't suppose I am so foolish as to believe it?" + +"I don't know; perhaps it isn't foolish. I wanted to see her, and I did +at last." + +"You saw her!" + +"In a dream. It was a real dream--I mean it was the kind of dream that +comes true. I saw her, and since then everything has been quite clear to +me. Aunt Griselda, she isn't only the lady of the forest; she has +another name; she comes to every one some day." + +"Phil, you are talking very queerly. Come away." + +That evening, late, Mrs. Lovel came quietly back. She did not ask for +supper; she did not see the old ladies; she went up at once to her tower +bedroom, where Phil was quietly sleeping. Bending down over the boy, she +kissed him tenderly, but so gently that he did not even stir. + +"Farewell all riches; farewell all worldly success; farewell even honor! +Welcome disgrace and poverty and the reproach of all who know me if only +I can keep you, little Phil!" + +Poor mother! she did not know, she could not guess, that for some +natures, such as Phil's, there is no long tarrying in a world so +checkered as ours. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII.--THE LADY WHO CAME WITH A GIFT. + + +A glorious day, warm, balmy, with the gentlest breezes blowing and the +bluest, tenderest sky overhead. The forest trees were still wearing +their brightest and most emerald green, the hawthorn was in full +blossom, the horse-chestnuts were in a perfect glory of pink-and-white +flower; the day, in short, and the day's adornments were perfect. It was +still too early in the year for a garden-party, but amusements were +provided for the younger guests in the grounds, and the whole appearance +of Avonsyde was festive without and within. The old ladies, in their +richest velvet and choicest lace, moved gracefully about, giving +finishing touches to everything. All the nervousness and unrest which +had characterized Miss Katharine the night before had disappeared. +To-day she looked her gentlest and sweetest--perhaps also her brightest. +Miss Griselda was really very happy, and she looked it. Happiness is a +marvelous beautifier, and Miss Griselda too looked almost handsome. Her +dark eyes glowed with some of the fire which she fancied must have +animated those of her favorite ancestors. Her soft pearl-gray dress +suited her well. Rachel and Kitty were in white and looked radiant. The +marked characteristics of their early childhood were as apparent as +ever: Rachel was all glowing tropical color and beauty; Kitty was one of +Old England's daintiest and fairest little daughters. + +The guests began to arrive, and presently Mrs. Lovel, accompanied by +Phil, came down and took her place in the great hall. It was here that +Miss Griselda meant to make her little speech. Standing at the upper end +of the hall, she meant to present Phil as her chosen heir to all her +assembled guests. How strange, how very strange that Mr. Baring had not +yet arrived! When Mrs. Lovel entered the hall Miss Griselda crossed it +at once to speak to her. + +"I have given Canning directions to let you know the very moment Mr. +Baring comes," she said. "You and he can transact your business in the +library in a few moments. Mr. Baring is sure to come down by the next +train; and if all your proofs are ready, it will not take him very long +to look through your papers." + +"Everything is ready," replied Mrs. Lovel in a low, hushed voice. + +"That is right. Pardon me, how very inappropriate of you to put on a +black velvet dress to-day." + +Mrs. Lovel turned very white. + +"It--it--is my favorite dress," she half-stammered. "I look best in black +velvet." + +"What folly! Who thinks about their looks at such a moment? Black here +and to-day looks nearly as inappropriate as at a wedding. I am not +superstitious, but the servants will notice. Can you not change it?" + +"I--I have nothing else ready." + +"Most inconsiderate. Kitty dear, run and fetch Mrs. Lovel a bunch of +those crimson roses from the conservatory. Have at least that much +color, Mrs. Lovel, for your boy's sake." + +Miss Griselda turned indignantly away, and Mrs. Lovel crossed over to +that part of the hall where Phil was standing. + +"Mammy darling, how white you look!" + +"Miss Griselda wants me to wear crimson roses in my dress, Phil." + +"Oh, do, mother; they will look so nice. Here comes Kitty with a great +bunch." + +"Give me one," said Mrs. Lovel; "here, this one." Her fingers shook; she +could scarcely take the flower. "Phil, will you put it into my dress? I +won't wear more than one; you shall place it there. Child, child, the +thorn has pricked me--every rose has a thorn." + +"Mother," whispered Phil, "you are quite sure of the surprise coming?" + +"Yes, darling. Hush, dear. Stay close to me." + +The time wore on. The guests were merry; the old place rang with +unwonted life and mirth and laughter. It was many years since Avonsyde +had been so gay. The weather was so lovely that even the older portion +of the visitors decided to spend the time out of doors. They stood about +in groups and talked and laughed and chatted. Tennis went on vigorously. +Rachel and Kitty, like bright fairies, were flitting here, there, and +everywhere. Phil was strangely quiet and silent, standing always close +to his mother. The chaise which had been sent to the railway station to +meet Mr. Baring returned empty. This fact was communicated by Canning to +his mistress, and as the time wore on Miss Griselda's face certainly +looked less happy. + +The guests streamed in to lunch, which was served in the great +dining-hall in the old part of the house. Then several boys and girls +would investigate the tower and would roam through the armory and the +old picture-gallery. + +"That man--that Rupert Lovel is Phil's ancestor," the boys and girls +remarked. "He is not a bit like Phil." + +"No; the present heir is an awfully weakly looking chap," the boys said. +"Why, he doesn't look as if he had strength enough even to go in for a +game of cricket." + +"Oh, but he's so interesting," the girls said, "and hasn't he lovely +eyes!" + +Then the guests wandered out again to the grounds and commented and +wondered as to when the crucial moment would arrive, and when Miss +Griselda, taking Phil's hand, would present him to them all as the +long-sought-for heir. + +"It is really a most romantic story," one lady said. "That little boy +represents the elder branch of the family; the property goes back to the +elder branch with him." + +"How sad his mother seems!" remarked another; "and the boy himself looks +dreadfully ill." + +"Miss Griselda says he is one of the most wiry and athletic little +fellows she ever came across," said a third lady. + +And then a fourth remarked in a somewhat fretful tone: + +"I wish that good Miss Lovel would present him to us and get it over. +One gets perfectly tired of waiting for one doesn't know what." + +Just then there was a disturbance and a little hush. Some fresh visitors +had arrived--some visitors who came on foot and approached through the +forest. Miss Griselda, feeling she could wait no longer for Mr. Baring's +arrival, had just taken Phil's hand and was leading him forward to greet +her many guests, when the words she was about to say were arrested by +the sudden appearance of these strangers on the scene. + +Mr. Baring was one of them; but nobody noticed, and in their intense +excitement nobody recognized, the sleek little lawyer. A lady, dressed +quietly, with a gentle, calm, and gracious bearing, came first. At sight +of her Rachel uttered a cry; she was the lady of the forest. Rachel flew +to her and, unrestrained by even the semblance of conventionality, took +her hand and pressed it rapturously to her lips. + +"At last!" half-sobbed Rachel--"at last I see you, and you don't turn +away! Oh, how I have loved you! how I have loved you!" + +"And I you, my darling--my beloved." + +"Kitty, come here," called out Rachel. "Kitty, Kitty, this is the lady +of the forest!" + +"And your mother, my own children. Come to my heart." + +But nobody, not even Miss Katharine, noticed this reunion of mother and +children; for Miss Griselda's carefully prepared speech had met with a +startling interruption. The mother had stopped with her children, but +two other unbidden guests had come forward. One of them was a boy--a boy +with so noble a step, so gallant, so gay, so courtly a mien that all the +visitors turned to gaze in unspoken admiration. Whose likeness did he +bear? Why did Miss Griselda turn so deadly pale? Why did she drop Phil's +hand and take a step forward? The dark eyes, the eagle glance, the very +features, the very form of that old hero of her life, the +long-dead-and-gone Rupert Lovel, now stood before her in very deed. + +"Aunt Grizel," whispered little Phil, "isn't he splendid? Isn't he +indeed the rightful heir? Just what he should be, so strong and so good! +Aunt Grizel, isn't it a great surprise? Mother, mother, speak, tell her +everything!" + +Then little Phil ran up to Rupert and took his hand and led him up to +Miss Grizel. + +"He always, always was the true heir," he said, "and I wasn't. Oh, +mother, speak!" + +Then there was a buzz of voices, a knot of people gathered quickly round +Miss Griselda, and Phil, holding Rupert's hand fast, looked again at his +mother. The visitors whispered eagerly to one another, and all eyes were +turned, not on the splendid young heir, but on the boy who held his arm +and looked in his face; for a radiance seemed to shine on that slight +boy's pale brow which we see once or twice on the faces of those who are +soon to become angels. The look arrested and startled many, and they +gazed longer and with a deeper admiration at the false heir than at the +true. For a couple of moments Mrs. Lovel had felt herself turning into +stone; but with Phil's last appealing gaze she shook off her lethargy, +and moving forward took her place by Miss Griselda's side, and facing +the anxiously expecting guests said: + +"I do it for Phil, in the hope--oh, my God!--in the vain hope of saving +Phil. I arranged with Mr. Baring that I would tell the story. I wish to +humiliate myself as much as possible and to show God that I am sorry. I +do it for Phil, hoping to save him." + +Then she began her tale, wailing it out as if her heart were broken; and +the interested guests pressed closer and closer, and then, unperceived +by any one, little Phil slipped away. + +"I will go into the forest," he said to himself. "I can't bear this. Oh, +mother! Oh, poor, poor mother! I will go into the forest. Everything +will be all right now, and I feel always happy and at rest in the +forest." + +"Phil," said a voice, and looking round he saw that his Cousin Rupert +had followed him. "Phil, you look ghastly. Do you think I care for any +property when you look like that?" + +"Oh, I'll be better soon, Rupert. I'm so glad you've come in time!" + +"Where are you going now, little chap?" + +"Into the forest. I must. Don't prevent me." + +"No. I will go with you." + +"But you are wanted; you are the real heir." + +"Time enough for that. I can only think of you now. Phil, you do look +ill!" + +"I'll be better soon. Let us sit down at the foot of this tree, Rupert. +Rupert, you promise to be good to mother?" + +"Of course. Your mother did wrong, but she is very brave now. You don't +know how she spoke to my father and me yesterday. My father never liked +her half as much as he does now. He says he is going to take Aunt Bella +back with him--you and Aunt Bella, both of you--and you are always to live +at Belmont, and Gabrielle and Peggy will make a lot of you." + +"I'm so glad; but I'm not going, Rupert. Rupert, do ask Gabrielle to be +very good to mother." + +"Of course. How breathless you are! Don't talk--rest against me." + +"Rupert, I must. Tell me about yesterday. Are all the links complete? Is +it quite, quite certain that you are the heir?" + +"Yes, quite--even the tankard has been found. Mrs. Lovel--the lady of the +forest, you remember--her servant picked it up and gave it to us last +night." + +"Did she?" answered Phil. "I thought I had lost it in the bog. It +fretted mother. I am glad it is found." + +"And do you know that the lady is Rachel's and Kitty's mother?" + +"Oh, how nice! How glad Rachel will be, and Kitty too! Isn't God very +good, Rupert?" + +"Yes," answered Rupert in a strong, manly young voice. + +"Rupert, you'll be sure to love Aunt Grizel, won't you?" + +"Yes, yes. I wish you wouldn't talk so much, little chap; you look +awfully ill. Do let me carry you home." + +"No; let me rest here on your shoulder. Rupert, there is another lady of +the forest. Rachel's and Kitty's mother is not the only one. I saw her +in a dream. She is coming to me to-day; she said so, Rupert." + +"Yes." + +"I have suffered--awfully; but God has been very good--and I shan't suffer +any more--I'm so happy." + +"Dear little chap!" + +For about ten minutes the boys were silent--Rupert afraid to move, his +little cousin rapt in ecstatic contemplation. Suddenly Phil roused +himself and spoke with strength and energy. + +"The lady is coming," he said--"there, through the trees! I see her! +Don't you? don't you? She is coming; she will rest me. Oh, how beautiful +she is! Look, Rupert, look!" + +But Rupert could see nothing, nothing at all, although Phil stretched +out his arms and a radiant smile covered his worn little face. + +Suddenly the arms fell; the eager words ceased; only the smile remained. +Rupert spoke, but obtained no answer. + +A little face, beautiful beyond all description now--a little face with a +glory over it--lay against his breast, but Phil himself had gone away. + +That is the story. Sad? Perhaps so--not sad for Phil. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lady of the Forest, by L. T. 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