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diff --git a/41136-8.txt b/41136-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c0a7f54..0000000 --- a/41136-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10845 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Plucky Girl, 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: A Plucky Girl - -Author: L. T. Meade - -Release Date: October 21, 2012 [EBook #41136] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PLUCKY GIRL *** - - - - -Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Note: - - Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have - been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - On page 169, "household gods" should possibly be "household goods". - On page 320, "spice of her mind" should possibly be "piece of her - mind". - - - - - A PLUCKY GIRL - - BY - MRS. L. T. MEADE - - AUTHOR OF "CECELIA'S AWAKENING," "PEGGY FROM KERRY," - "FOR DEAR DAD," "A WILD IRISH GIRL," "A GIRL - OF HIGH ADVENTURE," "THE CHESTERTON - GIRL GRADUATES," ETC., ETC. - - NEW YORK - HURST & COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - - - - Copyright, 1900, by - George W. Jacobs & Co. - - - - -Contents - - - CHAP PAGE - - I. FORTUNE'S BALL 1 - - II. FRIENDS OR QUONDAM FRIENDS 9 - - III. MY SCHEME 23 - - IV. THE VERDICT 31 - - V. JANE MULLINS 55 - - VI. THE BERLIN WOOL ROOM 74 - - VII. THE PAYING GUESTS 83 - - VIII. THE FLOUR IN THE CAKE 96 - - IX. THE ARTIST'S EYE 103 - - X. HER GRACE OF WILMOT 116 - - XI. WHY DID HE DO IT? 132 - - XII. TWO EXTREMES 147 - - XIII. THE UGLY DRESS 160 - - XIV. ANXIETY 176 - - XV. DR. READE 186 - - XVI. GIVE ME YOUR PROMISE 199 - - XVII. A DASH OF ONIONS 207 - - XVIII. BUTTERED BREAD 222 - - XIX. YOU USED TO LOVE US 234 - - XX. RUINED 242 - - XXI. MR. PATTENS 250 - - XXII. THE MAN IN POSSESSION 262 - - XXIII. ALBERT 273 - - XXIV. THE BOND 297 - - XXV. YOU ARE A GOOD MAN 311 - - XXVI. HAND IN HAND 319 - - XXVII. TOO LATE 324 - - XXVIII. THIS DEAR GIRL BELONGS TO US 336 - - XXIX. HAVE I LOST YOU? 345 - - XXX. THE DUCHESS HAS HER SAY 356 - - XXXI. THE END CROWNS ALL 368 - - - - -A PLUCKY GIRL - - - - -CHAPTER I - -FORTUNE'S BALL - - -I was born a month after my father's death, and my mother called me -after him. His name was John Westenra Wickham, but I was Westenra -Wickham alone. It was a strange name for a girl, and as I grew up -people used to comment on it. Mother loved it very much, and always -pronounced it slowly. She was devoted to father, and never spoke of -him as most people do of their dead, but as if he were still living, -and close to her and to me. When a very little child, my greatest -treat was to sit on her knee and listen to wonderful stories of my -brave and gallant father. He was a handsome man and a good man, and he -must have possessed, in a large degree, those qualities which endear -people to their fellows, for surely it was no light cause which made -my mother's beautiful brown eyes sparkle as they did when she spoke of -him, and her whole face awake to the tenderest life and love and -beauty when she mentioned his name. - -I grew up, therefore, with a great passionate affection for my dead -father, and a great pride in his memory. He had been a Major-General -in a Lancer regiment, and had fought many battles for his country, and -led his men through untold dangers, and performed himself more gallant -feats than I could count. He received his fatal wound at last in -rescuing a brother-officer under fire in Zululand, and one of the last -things he was told was that he had received his Victoria Cross. - -During my father's lifetime mother and he were well off, and for some -years after his death there did not appear to be any lack of money. I -was well educated, partly in Paris and partly in London, and we had a -pretty house in Mayfair, and when I was eighteen I was presented to -Her Gracious Majesty by mother's special friend, and my godmother, the -Duchess of Wilmot, and afterwards I went a great deal into society, -and enjoyed myself as much as most girls who are spirited and happy -and have kind friends are likely to do. I was quite one and twenty -before the collapse came which changed everything. I don't know how, -and I don't know why, but our gold vanished like a dream, and we found -ourselves almost penniless. - -"Now what are we to do, Westenra?" said mother. - -"But have we nothing?" I replied. - -"Only my pension as your dear father's widow. Your pension as his -child ceased when you came of age, and I believe, for so our lawyers -tell me, that there is about fifty pounds besides. I think we can -count on a hundred and fifty a year. Can we live on that sum, -Westenra?" - -"No," I answered proudly. - -I was standing behind one of the silk curtains in the drawing-room as -I spoke. I was looking down into the street. The room was full of -luxury, and the people who passed backwards and forwards in their -luxurious carriages in the street below were many of them our friends, -and all more or less moved in what was called nice society. I was full -of quite unholy pride at that moment, and poverty was extremely -distasteful, and to live on a hundred and fifty pounds a year seemed -more than impossible. - -"What is it, West? What are you thinking of?" said mother, in a sad -voice. - -"Oh, too many things to utter," I replied. "We can't live on the sum -you mention. Why, a curate's wife could scarcely manage on it." - -"Don't you think we might just contrive in a very small cottage in the -country?" pleaded mother. "I don't want much, just flowers round me -and the country air, and your company, darling, and--and--oh, very -small rooms would do, and the furniture of this house is ours. We -could sell most of it, and send what we liked best down to the -cottage." - -"It can't be done," I answered. "Listen, mother, I have a proposal to -make." - -"What is it, my darling? Don't stand so far away--come and sit near -me." - -I walked gravely across the room, but I did not sit down. I stood -before mother with my hands tightly locked together, and my eyes -fastened on her dear, lovely, delicate old face. - -"I am glad that the furniture is ours," I began. - -"Of course it is." - -"It is excellent furniture," I continued, looking round and appraising -it quickly in my mind's eye: "it shall be part of our capital." - -"My dear child, our capital? What do you mean?" - -"We will take a house in Bloomsbury, put the furniture in, and have -paying guests." - -"West, are you mad? Do you remember who I am--Mrs. Wickham, the widow -of--or no, I never will allow that word--the wife of your dear, dear, -noble father." - -"Father would approve of this," I answered. "He was a brave man and -died fighting, just as I mean to die fighting. You are shocked at the -idea to-night, mother, because it is fresh to you, but in a week's -time you will grow accustomed to it, you will take an interest in it, -you will even like it. I, bury myself in the country and starve!--no, -no, no, I could not do it. Mother, darling, I am your slave, your -devoted slave, your own most loving girl, but don't, don't ask me to -vegetate in the country. It would kill me--it would kill me." - -I had dropped on my knees now and taken both her hands in mine, and I -spoke with great excitement, and even passion. - -"Don't stir for a moment," said mother; "how like your father you -look! Just the same eyes, and that straight sort of forehead, and the -same expression round your lips. If your father were alive he would -love you for being brave." - -As mother looked at me I think she forgot for the moment the terrible -plunge we were about to make into the work-a-day strata of society, -but the next instant the horrid fact was brought back to her, for -Paul, our pretty little page, brought in a sheaf of letters on a -salver. Of course they were unpaid bills. Mother said sadly-- - -"Put them with the others, Westenra." - -"All these bills must be met," I said stoutly, after Paul had closed -the door behind him. "There will be just enough money for that -purpose, so we need not start handicapped. For my part, I mean to -enjoy our scheme vastly." - -"But, my child, you do not realise--you will be stepping down from the -position in which you were born. Our friends will have nothing to do -with us." - -"If they wish to give us up because we do something plucky they are -not worthy to be called friends," was my reply. "I don't believe -those friends we wish to keep will desert us, mother. On the -contrary, I am certain they will respect us. What people cannot stand -in these days is genteel poverty--its semi-starvation, its poor mean -little contrivances; but they respect a hand-to-hand fight with -circumstances, and when they see that we are determined to overcome in -the battle, then those who are worth keeping will cling to us and help -us; and if all our friends turn out to be the other sort, mother, -why"--and here I rose and stretched out my arms wide--"let them go, -they are not worth keeping. Those who won't be fond of us in our new -home in Bloomsbury we can do without." - -"You are enthusiastic and--and ignorant," said mother. - -"I grant that I am enthusiastic," I answered. "It would be a great -pity if I had none of that quality at one and twenty; but as to my -ignorance, well, time will prove. I should like, however, to ask you a -straight question, mother. Would father have sat beside his guns and -done nothing when the fight was going against him? Was that the way he -won his Victoria Cross?" - -Mother burst out crying. She never could bear me to allude to that -fatal and yet glorious occasion. She rose now, weak and trembling, and -said that she must defer the discussion of ways and means until the -next day. - -I put on my hat and went for a walk alone. I was full of hope, and -not at all depressed. Girls in these days are always glad to have -something new to do, and in the first rush of it, the idea of leaving -the humdrum path of ordinary society and of entering on a new and -vigorous career filled me with ecstacy. I don't really think in the -whole of London there was a prouder girl than the real Westenra -Wickham; but I do not think I had ordinary pride. To know titled -people gave me no special pleasure, and gay and pretty dresses were so -common with me that I regarded them as the merest incidents in my -life, and to be seen at big receptions, and at those "At Homes" where -you met the most fastidious and the smartest folks, gave me no joy -whatsoever. It is true I was very fond of my godmother, the Duchess of -Wilmot, and of another dear little American friend, who had married a -member of the Cabinet, Sir Henry Thesiger. But beyond these two I was -singularly free from any special attachments. The fact is, I was in -love with mother. Mother herself seemed to fill all my life. I felt -somehow as if father had put some of his spirit into me, and had bound -me over by a solemn vow to look after her, to comfort her, to guard -her, until he himself came to fetch her, and now my thought of -thoughts was how splendid and how necessary it would be to keep her -usual comforts round my dainty, darling, lovely mother, to give her -the food she required, and the comfortable rooms and the luxury to -which she was born; and I felt that my pride, if I could really do -that, would be so great and exultant, that I should hold my head -higher than ever in the air. Yes, I would have a downright good try, -and I vowed I would not fail. It seemed to me as I turned home again -in the sweet golden summer evening that fortune's ball lay at my feet, -that in the battle I would not be conquered, that like my father I in -my own way would win the Victoria Cross. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -FRIENDS OR QUONDAM FRIENDS - - -Mother used to say that there were times when her daughter Westenra -swept her right off her feet. - -"I can no more resist you," she used to remark on these occasions, -"than if you were a great flood bearing me along." - -Perhaps never did mother find my power so strong, so determined as on -the present occasion. It was in vain for her, poor darling, to speak -of our friends, of those dear, nice, good people who had loved father -and for his sake were good to his widow. I had my answer ready. - -"It is just this, mother," I said, "what we do will cause a -gleaning--a sifting--amongst our friends. Those who are worth keeping -will stay with us, those who are not worth keeping will leave us. And -now do you know what I mean to do? I mean this morning, with your -leave, to order the carriage, the carriage which we must put down at -the end of the week, but which we can certainly keep for the next -couple of days, and go round to our friends and tell them what we are -about to do." - -"You must go alone then, Westenra, for I cannot go with you." - -"Just as you please, mother. I would rather you had the courage; but -still, never mind, darling, I will do it by myself." - -Mother looked at me in despair. - -"How old are you?" she said suddenly. - -"You know quite well," I replied, "I was twenty-one a month ago." - -Mother shook her head sadly. - -"If you really intend to carry out this awful idea, West, you must -consider youth a thing of the past," she said. - -I smiled and patted her cheek. - -"Nothing of the sort," I answered; "I mean to be young and vigorous -and buoyant and hopeful as long as I have you with me, so there! Now, -may I ring the bell and tell Paul to desire Jenkins to bring the -victoria round at eleven o'clock?" - -Mother could not refuse, and having executed this order I sat down -with considerable appetite to breakfast. I was really enjoying myself -vastly. - -Punctual to the hour, I stepped into our pretty carriage. First of all -I would visit my dear old godmother, the Duchess of Wilmot. - -Accordingly, early as it was, I told Jenkins to drive me to the -Duchess's house in Park Lane. When we drew up at the house I jumped -out, ran up the steps and sounded the bell. The man who opened the -door informed me that her Grace was at home to no one at so early an -hour. - -I thought for a moment, then I scribbled something on a little piece -of paper. - - "Dear Duchess," I said, "I want to see you particularly, the - matter is very urgent.--Your god-daughter, - - WESTENRA WICKHAM." - -This I twisted up and gave to the man. - -"Give that to her Grace, I will wait to see if there is an answer," I -said. - -He came down in a moment or two. - -"Her Grace will see you, Miss Wickham," he said. - -I entered the house, and following the footman up some winding stairs -and down some corridors, I was shown into the small boudoir where the -Duchess generally sat in the morning. She was fully dressed, and -busily writing notes. - -"That will do, Hartop," she said to the man; "close the door, please. -Now then, Westenra, what is the meaning of this? What eccentric whim -has induced you to visit me at so early an hour?" - -"I wanted to tell you something," I said; "mother is awfully -distressed, but I thought you had better know." - -"How queer you look, my child, and yet I seldom saw you brighter or -handsomer. Take off your hat and sit near me. No, I am not specially -busy. Is it about the Russells' reception? Oh, I can take you if your -mother is not strong enough. You want to consult me over your dress? -Oh, my dear Westenra, you must wear----" - -"It has nothing to do with that," I interrupted. "Please let me speak. -I want to say something so badly. I want to consult you." - -"Of course," said her Grace. - -She laid her jewelled hand on my arm. How I loved that white hand! How -I adored my beautiful old friend! It would be painful to give her up. -Was she going to give me up? - -"I will tell you something quite frankly," I said. "I love you very -much; you have always been kind to me." - -"I am your godmother, don't forget." - -"A great trouble has come to us." - -"A great trouble, my dear, what do you mean?" - -"Mother thinks it a fearful trouble, and I suppose it is, but anyhow -there are two ways of taking it. There is the sinking-down way, which -means getting small and poor and thin, anaemic, in short, and there is -the bold way, the sort of way when you stand up to a thing, you know -what I mean." - -"You are talking school-boy language. My grandson Ralph would -understand you; he is here; do you want to see him? I am a little too -busy for riddles, Westenra." - -"Oh! I do beg your pardon. I know I am taking a great liberty: no one -else would come to you at so early an hour." - -"Well, speak, my dear." - -"We have lost our money." - -"Lost your money!" cried the Duchess. - -"Yes; everything, or nearly everything. It was through some bad -investments, and mother was not at all to blame. But we have nothing -left, or nearly nothing--I mean we have a hundred and fifty a-year, -about the price of one of your dresses." - -"Don't be personal, Westenra--proceed." - -"Mother wants to live in a cottage in the country." - -"I do not see how she could possibly do it," said the Duchess. "A -cottage in the country! Why, on that pittance she could scarcely -afford a workman's cottage, but I will speak to my friends; something -must be arranged immediately. Your dear, lovely, fragile mother! We -must get her a suite of apartments at Hampton Court. Oh! my poor -child, this is terrible." - -"But we do not choose to consider it terrible," I replied, "nor will -we be beholden to the charity of our friends. Now, here is the gist of -the matter. I have urged mother to take a house in Bloomsbury." - -"Bloomsbury?" said the Duchess a little vaguely. - -"Oh, please Duchess, you must know. Bloomsbury is a very nice, healthy -part of the town. There are big Squares and big houses; the British -Museum is there--now, you know." - -"Oh, of course, that dreary pile, and you would live close to it. But -why, why? Is it a very cheap neighbourhood?" - -"By no means; but city men find it convenient, and women who work for -their living like it also, and country folks who come to town for a -short time find it a good centre. So we mean to go there, and--and -make money. We will take our furniture and make the house attractive -and--and take paying guests. We will keep a boarding-house. Now you -know." - -I stood up. There was a wild excited feeling all over me. The most -daring flight of imagination could never associate the gracious -Duchess of Wilmot with a lodging-house keeper, and mother had always -hitherto been the Duchess's equal. I had never before felt _distrait_ -or nervous in the Duchess's presence, but now I knew that there was a -gulf between us--that I stood on one side of the gulf and the Duchess -on the other. I stretched out my hands imploringly. - -"I know you will never speak to me again, you never can, it is not to -be thought of. This is good-bye, for we must do it. I see you -understand. Mother said that it would part us from our friends, and I -thought she was wrong, but I see now that she was right. This is -good-bye." - -Before she could prevent me I dropped on my knees and raised the -jewelled hand to my lips, and kissed it passionately. - -"Oh, for heaven's sake, Westenra," said the Duchess then, "don't go -into hysterics, nor talk in that wild way. Sit down again quietly, -dear, and tell me what sort of person is a boarding-house keeper." - -Her tone made me smile, and relieved the tension. - -"Don't you really know?" I asked; "did you never hear of people who -take paying guests? They swarm at the seaside, and charge exorbitant -prices." - -"Oh, and rob you right and left," said the Duchess; "yes, my friends -have told me of such places. As a rule I go to hotels by preference, -but do you mean, Westenra, that your mother is going to live in -apartments for the future?" - -"No, no," I answered wildly; "she will have a house, and she and I, -both of us, will fill it with what they call paying guests. People -will come and live with us, and pay us so much a week, and we will -provide rooms for them, and food for them, and they will sit with us -in the drawing-room and, and--_perhaps_ we will have to amuse them a -little." - -The Duchess sank feebly back in her chair. She looked me all over. - -"Was there ever?" she asked, "I scarcely like to ask, but was there -ever any trace of insanity in your family?" - -"I have never heard that there was," I replied. "It is certainly not -developing in me. I have always been renowned for my common sense, and -it is coming well to the fore now." - -"My poor child," said the Duchess tenderly. She drew me close to her. -"You are a very ignorant little girl, Westenra," she said, "but I have -always taken a deep interest in you. You are young, but you have a -good deal in your face--you are not exactly pretty, but you have both -intelligence and, what is more important from my point of view, -distinction in your bearing. Your father was my dear and personal -friend. The man he rescued, at the cost of his own life, was my -relation. I have known your mother too since we were both girls, and -when she asked me, after your dear father's death, to stand sponsor to -his child I could not refuse. But now, what confused rigmarole are you -bringing to my ears? When did the first symptoms of this extraordinary -craze begin?" - -"A fortnight ago," I answered, "when the news came that our money, on -which we had been living in great peace and comfort, had suddenly -vanished. The investments were not sound, and one of the trustees was -responsible. You ought to blame him, and be very angry with him, but -please don't blame me. I am only doing the best I can under most -adverse circumstances. If mother and I went to the country we should -both die, not, perhaps, of physical starvation, but certainly of that -starvation which contracts both the mind and soul. It would not matter -at all doing without cream and meat, you know, and----" - -"Oh dear," interrupted the Duchess, "I never felt more bewildered in -my life. Whatever goes wrong, Westenra, people have to live, and now -you speak of doing without the necessaries of life." - -"Meat and cream are not necessary to keep one alive," I replied; "but -of course you have never known the sort of people who do without them. -I should certainly be hand and glove with them if I went into the -country, but in all probability in the boarding-house in Bloomsbury we -shall be able to have good meals. Now I must really say good-bye. Try -and remember sometimes that I am your god-daughter ... and that mother -loves you very much. Don't _quite_ give us both up--that is, as far as -your memory is concerned." - -The Duchess bustled to her feet. "I can't make you out a bit," she -said. "Your head has gone wrong, that is the long and short of it, but -your mother will explain things. Stay to lunch with me, Westenra, and -afterwards we will go and have a talk with your mother. I can either -send her a telegram or a note." - -"Oh, I cannot possibly wait," I replied. "I drove here to-day, but we -must give up the carriage at the end of the week, and I have other -people to see. I must go immediately to Lady Thesiger. You know what -a dear little Yankee she is, and so wise and sensible." - -"She is a pretty woman," said the Duchess, frowning slightly, "but she -does not dress well. Her clothes don't look as if they grew on her. -Now you have a very lissom figure, dear; it always seems to be alive, -but _have_ I heard you aright? You are going to live in apartments. -No; you are going into the country to a labourer's cottage--no, no, it -isn't that; you are going to let apartments to people, and they are -not to have either cream or meat. They won't stay long, that is one -comfort. My poor child, we must get you over this craze. Dr. Paget -shall see you. It is impossible that such a mad scheme should be -allowed for a moment." - -"One thing is certain, she does not take it in, poor darling," I said -to myself. "You are very kind, Duchess," I said aloud, "and I love you -better than I ever loved you before," and then I kissed her hand again -and ran out of the room. The last thing I saw of her round, -good-humoured face, was the pallor on her cheeks and the tears in her -eyes. - -Lady Thesiger lived in a large flat overlooking Kensington Gardens. -She was not up when I called, but I boldly sent my name in; I was told -that her ladyship would see me in her bathroom. I found her reclining -on a low sofa, while a pretty girl was massaging her face. - -"Is that you, Westenra?" she said; "I am charmed to see you. Take off -your hat. That will do, Allison; you can come back in half-an-hour. I -want to be dressed in time for lunch." - -The young woman withdrew, and Lady Thesiger fixed her languid, -heavily-fringed eyes on my face. - -"You might shut that window, Westenra," she said, "that is, if you -mean to be good-natured. Now what is it? you look quite excited." - -"I am out of bondage, that is all," I said. I never treated Jasmine -with respect, and she was a power in her way, but she was little older -than I, and we had often romped together on rainy days, and had -confided our secrets one to the other. - -"Out of bondage? Does that mean that you are engaged?" - -"Far from it; an engagement would probably be a state of bondage. Now -listen, you are going to be awfully shocked, but if you are the good -soul I think you are, you ought to help me." - -"Oh, I am sure I will do anything; I admire you very much, child. Dear -me, Westenra, is that a new way of doing your hair? Let me see. Show -me your profile? I am not sure whether I quite like it. Yes, on the -whole, I think I do. You have pretty hair, very pretty, but now, -confess the truth, you do wave it; all those little curls and tendrils -are not natural." - -"As I love you, Jasmine, they are," I replied. "But oh, don't waste -time now over my personal appearance. What do you think of my physical -strength? Am I well made?" - -"So-so," answered Lady Thesiger, opening her big dark eyes and gazing -at me from top to toe. "I should say you were strong. Your shoulders -are just a trifle too broad, and sometimes I think you are a little -too tall, but of course I admire you immensely. You ought to make a -good marriage; you ought to be a power in society." - -"From this hour, Jasmine," I said, "society and I are at daggers -drawn. I am going to do that sort of thing which society never -forgives." - -"Oh, my dear, what?" Lady Thesiger quite roused herself. She forgot -her languid attitude, and sat up on her elbow. "Do pass me that box of -Fuller's chocolates," she said. "Come near and help yourself; they are -delicious, aren't they?" - -I took one of the sweetmeats. - -"Now then," said her ladyship, "speak." - -"It is this. I must tell you as briefly as possible--mother and I have -lost our money." - -"Oh, dear," said the little lady, "what a pity that so many people do -lose their money--nice people, charming people who want it so much; -but if that is all, it is rather fashionable to be poor. I was told so -the other day. Some one will adopt you, dear; your mother will go into -one of the refined order of almshouses. It is quite the fashion, you -know, quite." - -"Don't talk nonsense," I said, and all the pride which I had inherited -from my father came into my voice. "You may think that mother and I -are low down, but we are not low enough to accept charity. We are -going to put our shoulders to the wheel; we are going to solve the -problem of how the poor live. We will work, for to beg we are ashamed. -In short, Jasmine, this diatribe of mine leads up to the fact that we -are going to start a boarding-house. Now you have the truth, Jasmine. -We expect to have charming people to live with us, and to keep a large -luxurious house, and to retrieve our lost fortune. Our quondam friends -will of course have nothing to do with us, but our real friends will -respect us. I have come here this morning to ask you a solemn -question. Do you mean in the future to consider Westenra Wickham, the -owner of a boarding-house, your friend? If not, say so at once. I want -in this case to cut the Gordian knot quickly. Every single friend I -have shall be told of mother's and my determination before long; the -Duchess knows already." - -"The Duchess of Wilmot?" said Lady Thesiger with a sort of gasp. She -was sitting up on the sofa; there was a flush on each cheek, and her -eyes were very bright. "And what did the Duchess say, Westenra?" - -"She thinks I am mad." - -"I agree with her. My poor child. Do let me feel your forehead. Are -you feverish? Is it influenza, or a real attack of insanity?" - -"It is an attack of downright common-sense," I replied. I rose as I -spoke. "I have told you, Jasmine," I said, "and now I will leave you -to ponder over my tidings. You can be my friend in the future and help -me considerably, or you can cut me, just as you please. As to me, I -feel intensely pleased and excited. I never felt so full of go and -energy in my life. I am going to do that which will prevent mother -feeling the pinch of poverty, and I can tell you that such a deed is -worth hundreds of 'At Homes' and receptions and flirtations. Why, -Jasmine, yesterday I was nobody--only a London girl trying to kill -time by wasting money; but from this out I am somebody. I am a -bread-winner, a labourer in the market. Now, good-bye. You will -realise the truth of my words presently. But I won't kiss you, for if -you decide to cut me you might be ashamed of it." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -MY SCHEME - - -I arrived home early in the afternoon. - -"Dear mother," I said, "I had an interview with the Duchess of Wilmot -and with Lady Thesiger. After seeing them both, I had not the heart to -go on to any more of our friends. I will describe my interview -presently, but I must talk on another matter now. Our undertaking will -be greatly prospered if our friends will stick to us and help us a -little. If, on the other hand, we are not to depend on them, the -sooner we know it the better." - -"What do you mean?" asked my mother. - -"Well, of course, mother dear, we will have our boarding-house. I have -thought of the exact sort of house we want. It must be very large and -very roomy, and the landlord must be willing to make certain -improvements which I will suggest to him. Our boarding-house will be a -sort of Utopia in its way, and people who come there will want to come -again. We will charge good prices, but we will make our guests very -comfortable." - -Mother clasped my hand. - -"Oh, my dear, dear child," she said. "How little you know about what -you are talking. We shall have an empty house; no one will come to us. -Neither you nor I have the faintest idea how to manage. We shall not -only lose all the money we have, but we shall be up to our ears in -debt. I do wish, Westenra, you would consider that simple little -cottage in the country." - -"If it must come to our living within our means," I said slowly, "I -have not the least doubt that the Duchess of Wilmot would allow me to -live with her as a sort of companion and amanuensis, and influence -would be brought to bear to get you rooms in Hampton Court; but would -you consent, mother darling, would you really consent that I should -eat the bread of dependence, and that you should live partly on -charity?" - -Mother coloured. She had a very delicate colour, and it always made -her look remarkably pretty. In her heart of hearts, I really do think -she was taken with the idea of Hampton Court. The ladies who lived in -those suites of apartments were more or less aristocratic, they were -at least all well connected, and she and they might have much in -common. It was, in her opinion, rather a distinction than otherwise to -live there, but I would have none of it. - -"How old are you, mother?" I asked. - -"Forty-three," she answered. - -"Forty-three," I repeated. "Why, you are quite young, just in the -prime of middle-age. What do you mean by sitting with your hands -before you for the rest of your life? You are forty-three, and I am -twenty-one. Do you think for a single moment that able-bodied women, -like ourselves, are to do nothing in the future; for if I did go to -the Duchess my post would be merely a sinecure, and you at Hampton -Court would vegetate, nothing more. Mother, you will come with me, and -help me? We will disregard society; if society is ashamed of us, let -it be ashamed, but we must find out, and I have a scheme to propose." - -"You are so full of schemes, Westenra, you quite carry me away." - -Dear mother looked bewildered, but at the same time proud of me. I -think she saw gleaming in my eyes, which I know were bright and dark -like my father's, some of that spirit which had carried him with a -forlorn hope into the thickest of the fight, and which enabled him to -win the Victoria Cross. There are a great many Victoria Crosses to be -secured in this world, and girls can get and wear some of them. - -"Now," I said, "we need not give up this house until the autumn. The -landlord will then take it off our hands, and we shall move into our -Bloomsbury mansion, but as I did not quite succeed to-day in knowing -exactly how we stood with our friends, I propose that next week we -should give an 'At Home,' a very simple one, mother, nothing but tea -and sweet cakes, and a few sandwiches, no ices, nothing expensive." - -"My dear Westenra, just now, in the height of the season, would any -one come?" - -"Yes, they will come, I will write to all the friends I know, and they -will come out of curiosity. We will invite them for this day -fortnight. I don't know any special one of our friends who has an 'At -Home' on the third Friday in the month. But let me get our 'At Home' -book and see." - -I looked it out, and after carefully examining the long list of our -acquaintances, proclaimed that I thought the third Friday in the month -was a tolerably free day. - -"We will ask them to come at three," I said, "a little early in the -afternoon, so that those who do want to go on to friends afterwards, -will have plenty of time." - -"But why should they come, Westenra; why this great expense and -trouble, just when we are parting with them all, for if I go to -Hampton Court, or the country, or to that awful boarding-house of -yours, my poor child, my days in society are at an end." - -"In one sense they are, mother, nevertheless, I mean to test our -friends. People are very democratic in these days, and there is no -saying, but that I may be more the fashion than ever; but I don't -want to be the fashion, I want to get help in the task which is before -me. Now, do hear me out." - -Mother folded her hands in her lap. Her lips were quivering to speak, -but I held her in control as it were. I stood before her making the -most of my slender height, and spoke with emphasis. - -"We will ask all our friends. Paul will wait on them, and Morris shall -let them in, and everything will be done in the old style, for we have -just the same materials we ever had to give a proper and fashionable -'At Home,' but when they are all assembled, instead of a recitation, -or music, I will jump up and stand in the middle of the room, and -briefly say what we mean to do. I will challenge our friends to leave -us, or to stick to us." - -"Westenra, are you mad? I can never, never consent to this." - -"It is the very best plan, and far less troublesome than going round -to everybody, and they will be slightly prepared, for the dear Duchess -will have mentioned something of what I said this morning to her -friends, and I know she will come. She won't mind visiting us here -just once again, and Jasmine will come, and--and many other people, -and we will put the thing to the test. Yes, mother, this day fortnight -they shall come, and I will write the invitations to-night, and -to-morrow you and I will go to Bloomsbury and look for a suitable -house, for by the time they come, mother, the house will have been -taken, and I hope the agreement made out, and the landlord will have -been consulted, and he will make the improvements I suggest and will -require. It is a big thing, mother, a great big venture for two lone -women like ourselves, but we will succeed, darling, we _must_ -succeed." - -"You are a rock of strength, West," she answered, half proudly, half -sadly, "you are just like your father." - -That night I sent out the invitations. They were ordinary notes of -invitation, for on second thoughts I resolved not to prepare our many -acquaintances beforehand. "Mrs. Wickham at home on such a day," -nothing more. - -I posted the letters and slept like a top that night, and in the -morning awoke with the tingling sensation which generally comes over -me when I have a great deal to do, and when there is an important and -very interesting matter at stake. I used to feel like that at times -when I was at school. On the day when I won the big scholarship, and -was made a sort of queen of by the other girls, I had the sensation -very strongly, and I felt like it also when a terrible illness which -mother had a few years ago came to a crisis, and her precious life lay -in the balance. Here was another crisis in my career, almost the most -important which had come to me yet, and I felt the old verve and the -old strong determination to conquer fate. Fate at present was against -me, but surely I was a match for it: I was young, strong, clever, and -I had a certain _entrée_ into society which might or might not help -me. If society turned its back on me, I could assuredly do without it. -If, on the other hand, it smiled on me, success was assured in -advance. - -I ran downstairs to breakfast in the best of spirits. I had put on my -very prettiest white dress, and a white hat trimmed with soft silk and -feathers. - -"Why, Westenra, dressed already?" said mother. - -"Yes, and you must dress too quickly, Mummy. Oh, there is Paul. Paul, -we shall want the victoria at ten o'clock." - -Paul seemed accustomed to this order now. He smiled and vanished. None -of our servants knew that their tenure with us was ended, that within -a very short time mother and I would know the soft things of life no -more. We were dragging out our last delicious days in the Land of -Luxury; we were soon to enter the Land of Hard Living, the Land of -Endeavour, the Land of Struggle. Might it not be a better, a more -bracing life than our present one? At least it would be a more -interesting life, of that I made sure, even before I plunged into its -depths. - -Mother ate her breakfast quite with appetite, and soon afterwards we -were driving in the direction of Bloomsbury. - -Jenkins, who had lived with us for years, and who had as a matter of -course imbibed some of the aristocratic notions of our neighbourhood, -almost turned up his nose when we told him to stop at the house of a -well-known agent in Bloomsbury. He could not, like the Duchess of -Wilmot, confess that he did not know where Bloomsbury was, but he -evidently considered that something strange and by no means _comme il -faut_ had occurred. - -Presently we reached our destination, it was only half-past ten. - -"Won't you get out, mother?" I asked as I sprang to the pavement. - -"Is it necessary, dear child?" replied mother. - -"I think it is," I answered; "you ought to appear in this matter, I am -too young to receive the respect which I really merit, but with you to -help me--oh, you will do _exactly_ what I tell you, won't you?" - -"My dear girl!" - -"Yes, Mummy, you will, you will." - -I took her hand, and gave it a firm grip, and we went into the -house-agent's together. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE VERDICT - - -The first thing I noticed when I entered the large room where Messrs -Macalister & Co. carried on their business, was a young man, tall and -very well set up, who stood with his back to us. He was talking -earnestly to one of Macalister's clerks, and there was something about -his figure which caused me to look at him attentively. His hair was of -a light shade of brown, and was closely cropped to his well-shaped -head, and his shoulders were very broad and square. He was dressed -well, and had altogether that man-of-the-world, well bred sort of -look, which is impossible to acquire by any amount of outward veneer. -The man who stood with his back to us, and did not even glance round -as we came into the agent's office, was beyond doubt a gentleman. I -felt curiously anxious to see his face, for I was certain it must be a -pleasant one, but in this particular fate did not favour me. I heard -him say to the clerk in a hurried tone-- - -"I will come back again presently," and then he disappeared by another -door, and I heard him walking rapidly away. Mother had doubtless not -noticed the man at all. She was seated near a table, and when the -clerk in question came up to her, seemed indisposed to speak. I gave -her a silent nudge. - -"We want--ahem," said my mother--she cleared her throat, "we are -anxious to look at some houses." - -"Fourteen to fifteen bedrooms in each," I interrupted. - -"Fourteen to fifteen bedrooms," repeated mother. "How many sitting -rooms, Westenra?" - -"Four, five, or six," was my answer. - -"Oh, you require a mansion," said the agent. "Where do you propose to -look for your house, madam?" - -He addressed mother with great respect. Mother again glanced at me. - -"We thought somewhere north," she said; "or north-west," she added. - -"W.C.," I interrupted; "Bloomsbury, we wish to settle in Bloomsbury." - -"Perhaps, Westenra," said my mother, "you had better describe the -house. My daughter takes a great interest in houses," she added in an -apologetic tone to the clerk. The face of the clerk presented a blank -appearance, he showed neither elation nor the reverse at having a -young lady to deal with instead of an old lady. He began to trot out -his different houses, to explain their advantages, their aristocratic -positions. - -"Aristocratic houses in Bloomsbury--aristocratic!" said mother, and -there was a tone of almost scorn in her voice. - -"I assure you it is the case, madam. Russell Square is becoming quite -the fashion again, and so is"--he paused--"Would Tavistock Square suit -you?" he said, glancing at me. - -"I do not know," I answered. "I seem to be better acquainted with the -names of Russell Square or Bloomsbury Square. After all, if we can get -a large enough house it does not greatly matter, provided it is in -Bloomsbury. We wish to see several houses, for we cannot decide -without a large choice." - -"You would not be induced, ladies, to think of a flat?" queried the -agent. - -Mother glanced at me; there was almost an appeal in her eyes. If I -could only be induced to allow her to live in a tiny, tiny flat--she -and I alone on our one hundred and fifty a year--but my eyes were -bright with determination, and I said firmly-- - -"We wish to look at houses, we do not want a flat." - -Accordingly, after a little more argument, we were supplied with -orders to view, and returning to the carriage I gave brief directions -to Jenkins. - -During the rest of the morning we had a busy time. We went from one -house to another. Most were large; some had handsome halls and wide -staircases, and double doors, and other relics of past grandeur, but -all were gloomy and dirty, and mother became more and more depressed, -and more and more hopeless, as she entered each one in turn. - -"Really, Westenra," she said, "we cannot do it. No, my darling, it is -hopeless. Think of the staff of servants we should require. Do look at -these stairs, it is quite worth counting them. My dear child, such a -life would kill me." - -But I was young and buoyant, and did not feel the stairs, and my -dreams seemed to become more rosy as obstacles appeared in view. I was -determined to conquer, I had made up my mind to succeed. - -"Whatever happens you shall not have a tiring time," I said -affectionately to my dear mother, and then I asked one of the -caretakers to give her a chair, and she sat in the great wide desolate -drawing-room while I ran up and down stairs, and peeped into -cupboards, and looked all over the house, and calculated, as fast as -my ignorant brain would allow me, the amount of furniture which would -be necessary to start the mansion I had in view. - -For one reason or another most of the houses on the agent's list were -absolutely impossible for our purpose, but at last we came to one -which seemed to be the exact thing we required. It was a corner house -in a square called Graham Square, and was not so old by fifty years as -the houses surrounding it. In height also it was a storey lower, but -being a corner house it had a double frontage, and was in consequence -very large and roomy. There were quite six or seven sitting rooms, and -I think there were up to twenty bedrooms in the house, and it had a -most cheerful aspect, with balconies round the drawing-room windows, -and balconies to the windows of the bedrooms on the first floor. I -made up my mind on the spot that the inmates of these special rooms -should pay extra for the privilege of such delightful balconies. And -the windows of the house were large, and when it was all re-papered -and re-painted according to my modern ideas, I knew that we could -secure a great deal of light in the rooms; and then besides, one whole -side faced south-east, and would scarcely ever be cold in winter, -whereas in summer it would be possible to render it cool by sun-blinds -and other contrivances. Yes, the house would do exactly. - -I ran downstairs to mother, who had by this time given up climbing -those many, many stairs, and told her that I had found the exact house -for our purpose. - -"Seventeen Graham Square is magnificent," I said. "My dearest, darling -mother, in ten years time we shall be rich women if we can only secure -this splendid house for our purpose." - -"We do not even know the rent," said mother. - -"Oh, the rent," I cried. "I forgot about that. I will look on the -order to view." - -I held it in my hand and glanced at it. Just for a moment my heart -stood still, for the corner house commanded a rental of two hundred -and eighty pounds a year. Not at all dear for so big a mansion, but -with rates and taxes and all the other etceteras it certainly was a -serious item for us to meet, and would be considered even by the most -sanguine people as a most risky speculation. - -"Never mind, never mind," I cried eagerly, "we will secure this house; -I do not think we need look at any of the others." - -I crumpled up the remaining orders. Mother stepped into the carriage, -and Jenkins took us back to the agent's. - -"You must speak this time, Westenra," said mother. "Remember it is -your scheme, darling; I am not at all accustomed to this sort of -business; it will be necessary for you to take the initiative." - -"Very well, mother, I will; and suppose you stay in the carriage." I -uttered these last words in a coaxing tone, for the tired look on her -face almost frightened me, and I did not want her to take any of the -worry of what I already called to myself "Westenra's grand scheme." - -I entered the office, and the man who had attended to us in the -morning came forward. I told him briefly that of the many houses which -we had looked over, the only one which would suit our purpose was No. -17 Graham Square. - -"Ah," he answered, "quite the handsomest house on our list. Do you -want it for your own occupation, Miss--Miss----" - -"Wickham," I said. "Yes, of course we want the house for -ourselves--that is, mother would like to rent it." - -"It is a high rent," said the man, "not of course high for such a fine -mansion, but higher than the rest of the houses in the Square. It -contains a great many rooms." He glanced at me as though he meant to -say something impertinent, but, reading an expression of determination -on my face, he refrained. - -"How soon can we take possession of the house?" I asked. "It would of -course be papered and painted for us?" - -"If you take a lease, not otherwise," answered Macalister's clerk. - -"I think we would take a lease," I replied. "What is the usual -length?" - -"Seven, fourteen, twenty-one years," he answered glibly; "but I do not -think the landlords round here would grant a longer lease than -fourteen years." - -"Oh, that would be quite long enough," I answered emphatically. "We -should like to arrange the matter as soon as possible, we are greatly -pleased with the house. Of course the drains must be carefully tested, -and the entire place would have to be re-decorated from cellar to -attic." - -"For a fourteen years' lease I doubt not this would be done," said the -man, "but of course there are several matters to be gone into. You -want the house for a private residence, do you not?" - -"Yes, and no," I said faintly. There was a room just beyond where I -was seated, and at that moment I heard a book fall heavily to the -ground. It startled me. Was any one in there listening to what we were -saying? - -The clerk stepped forward and quietly closed the door. - -"To be frank with you," I said, "we wish to secure 17 Graham Square in -order to start a boarding-house there." - -The man immediately laid down the large book in which he had been -taking my orders. - -"That will never do," he said. "We cannot allow business of any sort -to be carried on in the house, it would destroy all the rest of the -property. It is far too aristocratic for anything of the kind." - -"But our house would be practically private," I said; "I mean," I -continued, stammering and blushing, and feeling ready to sink through -the floor, "that our guests would be extremely nice and well-behaved -people." - -"Oh, I have no doubt whatever of that," replied the clerk, "but there -is a condition in every lease in that special Square, that money is -not to be earned on the premises. I presume your guests would not -come to you for nothing?" - -"Certainly not," I replied. I felt myself turning cold and stiff. All -the angry blood of my noble ancestors stirred in my veins. I said a -few more words and left the shop. - -"Well?" asked mother. She was looking dreary and terribly huddled up -in the carriage. It was a warm day, but I think going through those -empty houses had chilled her. "Well, Westenra, have you taken No. 17?" - -"Alas! no," I answered in some heat; "would you believe it, mother, -the agent says the landlord will not let us the house if we make money -in it." - -"If we make money in it? I do not understand," answered mother. Her -blue eyes were fixed on my face in an anxious way. - -"Why, mother, darling, don't you know we meant to fill the house with -paying guests." - -"Oh, I forgot," said mother. "Home, Jenkins, as fast as possible." - -Jenkins whipped up the horses, and we trotted home. Mother looked -distinctly relieved. - -"So you have not taken the house?" she said. - -"I cannot get it," I answered. "It is more than provoking. What are we -to do? I had taken such a fancy to the place." - -"It did seem, for that benighted place, fairly cheerful," said my -mother, "but, Westenra, there is a Providence guiding our paths. -Doubtless Providence does not intend you to wreck your young life -attending to lodgers." - -"But, mother dear, don't you understand that we must do something for -our living? It is disappointing, but we shall get over it somehow." - -During the rest of that day mother refused even to discuss the -boarding-house scheme. She seemed to think that because we could not -get 17 Graham Square, there was no other house available for our -purpose. - -The next day I went out without mother. I did not visit the same -agent. After finding myself in Bloomsbury I repaired to a post-office, -and, taking down the big Directory, secured the names of several -agents in the neighbourhood. These I visited in turn. I had dressed -myself very plainly; I had travelled to my destination by 'bus. I -thought that I looked exactly what I felt--a very business-like young -woman. Already the gulf was widening between my old and my new life. -Already I was enjoying my freedom. - -Once more I was supplied with a list of houses, and once again I -trotted round to see them. Alack and alas! how ugly empty houses did -look; how dilapidated and dirty were the walls without the pictures -and bookcases! How dreary were those countless flights of stairs, -those long narrow windows, those hopelessly narrow halls; and then, -the neighbourhood of these so-called mansions was so sordid. Could we -by any possible means brighten such dwellings? Could we make them fit -to live in? I visited them all, and finally selected three of these. -Two had a clause forbidding the letting out of apartments, but the -third and least desirable of the houses was to be the absolute -property of the tenant to do what he liked with. - -"That mansion," said the obliging agent, "you can sublet to your -heart's content, madam. It is a very fine house, only one hundred and -eighty pounds a year. There are ten bedrooms and five sitting-rooms. -You had better close with it at once." - -But this I could not do. The outlook from this house was so hideous; -the only way to it was through an ugly, not to say hideous, -thoroughfare. I thought of my delicate, aristocratic mother here. I -thought of the friends whom I used to know visiting us in 14 Cleveland -Street, and felt my castle in the clouds tumbling about my ears. What -was to be done! - -"I cannot decide to-day," I said; "I will let you know." - -"You will lose it, madam," said the agent. - -"Nevertheless, I cannot decide so soon; I must consult my mother." - -"Very well, madam," said the man, in a tone of disappointment. - -I left his office and returned home. - -For the next few days I scarcely spoke at all about my project. I was -struggling to make up my mind to the life which lay before us if we -took 14 Cleveland Street. The street itself was somewhat narrow; the -opposite houses seemed to bow at their neighbours; the rooms, although -many, were comparatively small; and last, but by no means least, the -landlord would do very little in the way of decoration. - -"We can let houses of this kind over and over again," said the agent, -"I don't say that Mr. Mason won't have the ceilings whitened for you, -but as to papering, no; the house don't require it. It was done up for -the last tenant four years ago." - -"And why has the last tenant left?" I asked. - -"Owing to insolvency, madam," was the quick reply, and the man darted -a keen glance into my face. - -Insolvency! I knew what that meant. It was another word for ruin, for -bankruptcy. In all probability, if we took that detestable house, we -also would have to leave on account of insolvency, for what nice, -cheerful, paying guests would care to live with us there? I shook my -head. Surely there must be somewhere other houses to let. - -During the next few days I spent all my time searching for houses. I -got quite independent, and, I think, a little roughened. I was more -brusque than usual in my manners. I became quite an adept at jumping -in and out of omnibuses. I could get off omnibuses quite neatly when -they were going at a fairly good pace, and the conductors, I am sure, -blessed me in their hearts for my agile movements. Then the agents all -round Bloomsbury began to know me. Finally, one of them said, on the -event of my fourth visit-- - -"Had you not better try further afield, Miss? There are larger, -brighter, and newer houses in the neighbourhood of Highbury, for -instance." - -"No," I said, "we must live in Bloomsbury." Then I noticed that the -man examined me all over in quite a disagreeable fashion, and then he -said slowly-- - -"14 Cleveland Street is still to be had, Miss, but of course you -understand that the landlord will want the usual references." - -"References!" I cried. "He shall certainly have them if he requires -them." And then I wondered vaguely, with a queer sinking at my heart, -to whom of all our grand friends I might apply who would vouch for us -that we would not run away without paying the rent. Altogether, I felt -most uncomfortable. - -The days passed. No more likely houses appeared on the horizon, and at -last the afternoon came when our friends were to visit us, when I, -Westenra, was to break to these fashionable society people my wild -project. But I had passed through a good deal of the hardening process -lately, and was not at all alarmed when the important day dawned. This -was to be our very last entertainment. After that we would step down. - -Mother, exquisitely dressed in dove-coloured satin, waited for her -guests in the drawing-room. I was in white. I had given up wearing -white when I was going about in omnibuses, but I had several charming -costumes for afternoon and evening wear still quite fresh, and I -donned my prettiest dress now, and looked at my face in the glass with -a certain amount of solicitude. I saw before me a very tall, slender -girl; my eyes were grey. I had a creamy, pale complexion, and -indifferently good features. There were some people who thought me -pretty, but I never did think anything of my looks myself. I gave my -own image a careless nod now, and ran briskly downstairs. - -"You'll be very careful what you say to our guests, Westenra?" queried -mother. "This whole scheme of yours is by no means to my liking. I -feel certain that the dear Duchess and Lady Thesiger will feel that -they have been brought here unfairly. It would have been far franker -and better to tell them that something singularly unpleasant was about -to occur." - -"But, dearest mother, why should it be unpleasant? and it is the -fashion of the day to have sensation at any cost. Our guests will -always look back on this afternoon as a sort of red letter day. Just -think for yourself how startled and how interested they will be. -Whether they approve, or whether they disapprove, it will be immensely -interesting and out of the common, mother. O mother! think of it!" I -gripped her hand tightly, and she said-- - -"Don't squeeze me so hard, Westenra, I shall need all my pluck." - -Well, the hour came and also the guests. They arrived in goodly -numbers. There was the usual fashionable array of carriages outside -our door. There were footmen in livery and coachmen, and stately and -magnificently groomed horses, and the guests poured up the stairs and -entered our drawing rooms, and the chatter-chatter and hum-hum of -ordinary society conversation began. Everything went as smoothly as it -always did, and all the time my mother chatted with that courtly grace -which made her look quite in the same state of life as the Duchess of -Wilmot. In fact the only person in the room who looked at all nervous -was the said Duchess. She had a way of glancing from me to mother, as -if she was not quite sure of either of us, and once as I passed her, -she stretched out her hand and touched me on my sleeve. - -"Eh, Westenra?" she said. - -"Yes, your Grace," I replied. - -"All that silliness, darling, that you talked to me the other day, is -quite knocked on the head, is it not? Oh, I am so relieved." - -"You must wait and find out," was my reply. "I have something to say -to every one soon, and oh please, try not to be too shocked with me." - -"You are an incorrigible girl," she replied, but she shook her head -quite gaily at me. She evidently had not the slightest idea of what I -was going to do. - -As to my special friend Jasmine Thesiger, she was as usual surrounded -by an admiring group of men and women, and gave me no particular -thought. I looked from one to the other of all our guests: I did not -think any more were likely to come. All those who had been specially -invited had arrived. My moment had come. Just then, however, just -before I rose from my seat to advance into the middle of the room, I -noticed coming up the stairs a tall, broad-shouldered man. He was -accompanied by a friend of ours, a Mr. Walters, a well-known artist. I -had never seen this man before, and yet I fancied, in a sort of -intangible way, that his figure was familiar. I just glanced at him -for a moment, and I do not believe he came into the room. He stood a -little behind Mr. Walters, who remained in the doorway. My hour had -come. I glanced at mother. Poor darling, she turned very white. I -think she was almost terrified, but as to myself I felt quite -cheerful, and not in the least alarmed. - -"I want to say something to all my dear friends," I began. I had a -clear voice, and it rose above the babel. There came sudden and -profound silence. - -I saw a lady nudge her neighbour. - -"I did not know," I heard her say, "that Westenra recited," and then -she settled herself in a comfortable attitude to listen. - -I stood in the middle of the floor, and faced everybody. - -"I have something to say," I began, "and it is not a recitation. I -have asked you all to come here to-day to listen to me." I paused and -looked round. How nice our guests looked, how kind, how beautifully -dressed! What good form the men were in, and how aristocratic were the -women. How different these men and women were from the people I had -associated with during the week--the people who took care of the -houses in Bloomsbury, the agents who let the houses, the people whom I -had met in the busses going to and from the houses. These nice, -pleasant, well-bred people belonged to me, they were part and parcel -of my own set; I was at home with them. - -I just caught the Duchess's eye for a moment, and I think there was -alarm in those brown depths, but she was too essentially a woman of -the world to show anything. She just folded her jewelled hands in her -lap, leant back in her chair, and prepared to listen. One or two of -the men, I think, raised their eye-glasses to give me a more critical -glance, but soon even that mark of special attention subsided. Of -course it was a recitation. People were beginning to be tired of -recitations. - -"I want to say something, and I will say it as briefly as possible," I -commenced. "Mother does not approve of it, but she will do it, because -she has yielded to me as a dear, good, _modern_ mother ought." - -Here there was a little laugh, and some of the tension was lessened. - -"I want to tell you all," I continued, "for most of you have been our -friends since I was a child, that mother and I are--poor. There is -nothing disgraceful in being poor, is there? but at the same time it -is unpleasant, unfortunate. We were fairly well off. Now, through no -fault of our own, we have lost our money." - -The visitors looked intensely puzzled, and also uncomfortable, but now -I raised my eyes a little above them. It was necessary that if I went -on putting them to the test, I should not look them full in the face. - -"We are poor," I continued, "therefore we cannot live any longer in -this house. From having a fair competence, not what many of you would -consider riches, but from having a fair competence, we have come down -to practically nothing. We could live, it is true, in the depths of -the country, on the very little which has been saved out of the wreck, -but I for one do not wish to do that. I dislike what is called decent -poverty, I dislike the narrow life, the stultifying life, the mean -life. I am my father's daughter. You have heard of my father, that is -his picture"--I pointed as I spoke to an oil painting on the wall. -"You know that he was a man of action, I also will act." I hurried my -voice a trifle here--"So mother and I mean not to accept what many -people would consider the inevitable; but we mean, to use a vulgar -phrase, to better ourselves." - -Now it is certain, our guests were a little surprised. They began to -fidget, and one or two men came nearer, and I thought, though I am not -sure, that I saw the tall man, with the head of closely cropped hair, -push forward to look at me. But I never looked any one full in the -eyes; I fixed mine on father's picture. I seemed to hear father's -voice saying to me-- - -"Go on, Westenra, that was very good, you and I are people of action, -remember." - -So I went on and I explained my scheme. I told it very briefly. Mother -and I would in future earn our own living. - -I was educated fairly well, but I had no special gifts, so I would not -enter the Arena where teachers struggled and fought and bled, and -many of them fell by the wayside. Nor would I enter the Arena of Art, -because in no sense of the word was I an artist, nor would I go on the -Stage, for my talent did not lie in that direction, but I had certain -talents, and they were of a practical sort. I could keep accounts -admirably; I could, I believed, manage a house. Then I skilfully -sketched in that wonderful boarding-house of my dreams, that house in -dull Bloomsbury, which by my skill and endeavour would be bright and -render an acceptable home for many. Finally, I said that my mother and -I had made up our minds to leave the fashionable part of London and to -retire to Bloomsbury. - -"We will take our house from September," I said, "and advertise very -soon for paying guests, and we hope the thing will do well, and that -in ten or twelve years we shall have made enough money to keep -ourselves for the future in comfort. Now," I continued, "I appeal to -no one to help us. We do not intend to borrow money from anybody, and -the only reason I am speaking to you to-day is because I wish, and I -am sure mother agrees with me, to be quite frank with you. Mother and -I know quite well that we are doing an absolutely unconventional -thing, and that very likely you, as our friends of the past, will -resent it. Those of you who do not feel that you can associate with -two ladies who keep a boarding-house, need not say so in so many -words, but you can give us to understand, by means known best to -yourselves, whether you will know us in the future. If you want to cut -us we shall consider it quite right, quite reasonable, quite fair. -Then those who do intend to stick to us, even through this great -change in our lives, may be the greatest possible help by recommending -us and our boarding-house to their friends, that is, if any of you -present have friends who would live in Bloomsbury. - -"Mother and I thought it quite fair that you should know, and we -thought it best that I should tell you quite simply. We are neither of -us ashamed, and mother approves, or at least she will approve -presently, of what I have done." - -There was a dead silence when I ceased speaking, followed by a slight -rustling amongst the ladies. The men looked one and all intensely -uncomfortable, and the tall man who had come in with Mr Walters, the -artist, disappeared altogether. - -I had not been nervous while I was speaking, but I felt nervous now. I -knew that I was being weighed in the balance, that I and my scheme -were being held up before the mental eyes of these people with the -keenest, most scathing criticism. Would one in all that crowd -understand me? I doubted it. Perhaps in my first sensation of sinking -and almost despair something of my feeling stole into my face, for -suddenly Jasmine sprang to her feet and said in an excited, tremulous -voice-- - -"I for one say that Westenra is a very plucky girl. I wish her God -speed, and I hope her scheme will succeed." - -This was very nice indeed of Jasmine, but I do not know that it -relieved the situation much, for still the others were silent, and -then one lady got up and went over to mother and took her hand and -said-- - -"I am very sorry for you, dear Mrs. Wickham, very sorry indeed. I fear -I must say good-bye now; I am very sorry. Good-bye, dear Mrs. -Wickham." - -And this lady's example was followed by most of the other ladies, -until at last there was no one left in the room but the Duchess of -Wilmot and Lady Thesiger and ourselves. Lady Thesiger's cheeks were -brightly flushed. - -"My dear Westenra," she said, "you are one of the most eccentric -creatures in creation. Of course from first to last you are as wrong -as you can be. You know nothing about keeping a boarding-house, and -you are bound to fail. I could not say so before all those ridiculous -people, who would not have understood, but I say so now to you. My -dear girl, your speech was so much Greek to them. You spoke over their -heads or under their feet, just as you please to put it, but -comprehend you they did not. You will be the talk of the hour, and -they will mention you as a girl whom they used to know, but who has -gone a little mad, and then you will be forgotten. You would have -done fifty times better by keeping this thing to yourself." - -"That is precisely what I think," said the Duchess. "My dear Mary," -she added, turning to my mother, "what is the matter with your child? -Is she quite _right_?" The Duchess gave an expressive nod, and I saw -mother's face turn pale. - -"Oh, do listen to me for a moment," interrupted pretty Lady Thesiger, -"what I say is this. Westenra is on the wrong tack. If she wishes to -earn money, why must she earn it in this preposterous, impossible -manner? It would be fifty times better for her to go as a teacher or a -secretary, but to keep a boarding-house! You see for yourself, dear -Mrs. Wickham, that it is impossible. As long as we live in society we -must adhere to its rules, and for West calmly to believe that people -of position in London will know her and respect her when she is a -boarding-house keeper, is to expect a miracle. Now, I for one will not -cut you, Westenra." - -"Nor will I cut you, Westenra," said the Duchess, and she gave a -profound sigh and folded her hands in her lap. - -"Two of your friends will not cut you, but I really think all the -others will," said Lady Thesiger. "Then I suppose you expect me to -recommend nice Americans to come and stay with you, but it is my -opinion that, with your no knowledge at all of this sort of thing, you -will keep a very so-so, harum-scarum sort of house. How can I -recommend my nice American friends to be made thoroughly uncomfortable -by you? Oh, I am _very_ sorry for you." - -Lady Thesiger got up as she spoke; she kissed me, squeezed my hand, -and said, "Oh child, what a goose you are!" and left the room. - -The Duchess followed more slowly. - -"I don't forget, my child," she said, "that I am your godmother, that -I loved your dear father, that I love your mother, that I also love -you. Do not be wilful, Westenra; give up this mad scheme. There are -surely other ways open to you in this moment of misfortune. Above all -things, try not to forget that you are your father's daughter." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -JANE MULLINS - - -On the evening which followed our last "At Home," mother came to me, -and earnestly begged of me to pause and reflect. - -"Wherever you go I will go, Westenra," she said; "that may be taken as -a matter of course, but I do think you are wrong to go against all the -wishes of our friends." - -"But our friends won't do anything for us, Mummy!" I answered, "and -they will forget us just as soon in the cottage in the country, as -they will in the boarding-house in town; sooner, in fact, if that is -any consolation to you, and I do want to try it, Mummy, for I cannot -be buried alive in the country at twenty-one." - -"Then I will say no more," replied mother. "I only trust the way may -be made plain for us, for at present I cannot see that it is; but if -we can find a suitable house, and take it, I will go with you, West, -although, darling, I hate the thing--I do truly." - -After this speech of mother's it can easily be supposed that I slept -badly that night. I began for the first time in my life to doubt -myself, and my own judgment. I began even seriously to consider the -cottage in the country with its genteel poverty, and I began to wonder -if I was to spend the remainder of my youth getting thinner in mind -and body, day by day, and hour by hour. - -"Anæmic," I said to myself. "In the country with no money, and no -interests, I shall become anæmic. My thoughts will be feeble and -wanting in force, and I shall die long before my time a miserable old -maid. Now, there are no real old maids in London. The unmarried women -are just as full of force, and go, and common-sense, and ambition, and -happiness as the married ones; but in the country, oh, it is -different. There old age comes before its time. I knew that I was not -the girl to endure having nothing to do, and yet that seemed to be my -appointed portion. So during the night I shed very bitter tears, and I -hated society for its coldness and want of comprehension. I longed -more frantically than ever to find myself in the midst of the people, -where "a man was a man for a' that," and mere veneer went for nothing. -But if mother's heart was likely to be broken by my taking this step, -and if there was no house for me but 14 Cleveland Street, I doubted -very much whether I could go on with my scheme. Judge therefore of my -surprise and delight, when on the following morning, mother handed me -a letter which she had just received. It was from Messrs. Macalister -& Co. - -"Read it," she said, "I do not quite know what it means." - -I read the letter quickly, it ran as follows:-- - - "DEAR MADAM,--We write to acquaint you, that we have just - had an interview with Mr. Hardcastle, the landlord of 17 - Graham Square, and he desires us to say, that he is willing - in your case to come to terms with regard to his house, and - if you will take it for a lease of fourteen years, he will - do it up for you, in the most approved style, and according - to your own taste; he also withdraws his embargo to your - letting apartments, or having paying guests in your house. - - "Under the circumstances, we shall be glad to hear if you - still entertain the idea of taking this mansion. - - --Yours faithfully, - MACALISTER & CO." - -"Oh mother!" I cried, "this is just splendid!" My spirits rose with a -bound. Anxious as I was to possess a boarding-house, I hated going to -14 Cleveland Street, but 17 Graham Square was a house where any one -might be happy. It was charmingly built; it was large, commodious, -cheerful, and then the landlord--he must be a delightful man when he -withdrew his embargo, when he permitted us--_us_ to have paying guests -in our dwelling. Even Jasmine need not be ashamed to send her nice, -rich American friends to 17 Graham Square. - -"This is splendid, mother!" I repeated. - -"Dear me, Westenra," said mother, looking pale and troubled, "what -house is he alluding to? I saw so many that first day, darling, and -the only impression they left upon me was, that they were all stairs -and narrowness; they seemed to go up and up, for ever and ever, my -legs ache even now when I think of them." - -"But you cannot forget 17 Graham Square," I said, "the last house we -saw ... the corner-house. You recollect the hall, how wide it was, and -you know there were darling balconies, and you shall have one, little -mother, all to yourself, and such a sweet sun-blind over it, and you -can keep your favourite plants there, and be, oh, so happy! -Mother--mother, this is magnificent!" - -"I do recall the house now," said mother, "it was not quite as bad as -the other houses; but still, Westenra, what does this mean? Why should -there be an exception made in our favour?" - -"Oh, that I know nothing about," I answered, "I suppose the landlord -was not going to be so silly as to lose good tenants." - -"And what is the rent of the house ... I forget." - -"Two hundred and something," I said in a careless tone, "not at all -high for such a house, and the landlord, Mr. Hardcastle, will do it -up for us. Mother, we will have the carriage, and go and make our -arrangements immediately." - -"Then you are quite determined, West?" - -"Mother, dear mother, I do think father would like us to do it." - -Now, whenever I spoke of my dead father, mother looked intensely -solemn and subdued. Once she told me that she thought there was a -strong link between my father's spirit and mine, and that at times I -spoke so exactly like him, and made use of the identically same -expressions, and in short impressed her with the feeling that he was -close to her. I did not often use my father's name, therefore, as a -means of power over my mother, but I did use it now; and, with the -usual result, she got up gently and said-- - -"We had better go and see the house once more." - -We did go, we drove straight to the agents, and got the order to view, -and went all over 17 Graham Square. Our second visit was far more -delightful than the first, for the agent's clerk accompanied us. We -found him in an excellent humour, most willing to offer suggestions -and to accept any suggestions of ours. Not that mother made any, it -was I who, with my usual daring, spoke of this improvement and the -other. - -But darling mother became a little cheerful when she stood in that -noble drawing-room and saw the sun shining in bars across the floor, -and the agent's clerk was quite astonishingly cheery; he knew just the -colour the paper ought to be, for instance, and the tone of the paint, -and he even suggested what curtains would go with such paper and such -paint. I never saw a man so improved. He had lost his brusqueness, and -was very anxious to please us. - -"It is extraordinary," said mother afterwards; "really I never knew -that house-agents could be such agreeable people. No. 17 Graham Square -is a handsome house, Westenra, it is a great pity that it is not -situated in Mayfair." - -"But mother, dear mother, we could not have a boarding-house in the -very midst of our friends," I said with a smile; "we shall do -splendidly in Graham Square, and we should not do at all well in -Mayfair." - -When we returned to the agents, Mr. Macalister himself, one of the -heads of the firm, came and interviewed us. After answering a great -many questions, it was finally decided that he was to see Mr. -Hardcastle, the landlord, and that the landlord was to have an -interview the next day with mother; and the agent further agreed that -the landlord should call on mother at our own house in Sumner Place, -and then we drove home. - -"I suppose it is completed now," said mother, "the thing is done. -Well, child, you are having your own way; it will be a lesson to you, -I only trust we shall not be quite ruined. I am already puzzled to -know how we are to meet that enormous rent." - -But at that moment of my career I thought nothing at all about the -rent. That night I slept the sleep of the just, and was in high -spirits the following day, when the landlord, a nice, jovial, -rosy-faced man, arrived, accompanied by the agent. They both saw my -mother, who told them frankly that she knew nothing about business, -and so perforce they found themselves obliged to talk to me. -Everything was going smoothly until Mr. Hardcastle said in the very -quietest of tones-- - -"Of course you understand, Mrs. Wickham, that I shall require -references. I am going to lay out a good deal of money on the house, -and references are indispensable." - -"Of course," answered mother, but she looked pale and nervous. - -"What sort of references?" I asked. - -"Tradesmen's references are what we like best," was his reply; "but -your banker's will be all-sufficient--an interview with your banker -with regard to your deposit will make all safe." - -Then mother turned paler than ever, and looked first at me and then at -Mr. Hardcastle. After a pause she said slowly-- - -"My daughter and I would not undertake our present scheme if we had -capital--we have not any." - -"Not any?" said Mr. Hardcastle, looking blank, "and yet you propose -to take a house with a rental of two hundred and eighty pounds a -year." - -"We mean to pay the rent out of the profit we get from the boarders," -I replied. - -Mr. Hardcastle did not make use of an ugly word, but he raised his -brows, looked fixedly at me for a moment, and then shook his head. - -"I am sorry," he said, rising; "I would do a great deal to oblige you, -for you are both most charming ladies, but I cannot let my house -without references. If you, for instance, Mrs. Wickham, could get any -one to guarantee the rent, I should be delighted to let you the house -and put it in order, but not otherwise." - -He added a few more words, and then he and the agent, both of them -looking very gloomy, went away. - -"I shall hear from you doubtless on the subject of references," said -Mr. Hardcastle as he bowed himself out, "and I will keep the offer -open until Saturday." - -This was Wednesday, we had three days to spare. - -"Now, Westenra," said my mother, "the thing has come to a stop of -itself. Providence has interfered, and I must honestly say I am glad. -From the first the scheme was mad, and as that nice, jovial looking -Mr. Hardcastle will not let us the house without our having capital, -and as we have no capital, there surely is an end to the matter. I -have not the slightest doubt, West, that all the other landlords in -Bloomsbury will be equally particular, therefore we must fall back -upon our little cottage in----" - -"No, mother," I interrupted, "no; I own that at the present moment I -feel at my wits' end, but I have not yet come to the cottage in the -country." - -I think there were tears in my eyes, for mother opened her arms wide. - -"Kiss me," she said. - -I ran into her dear arms, and laid my head on her shoulder. - -"Oh, you are the sweetest thing on earth," I said, "and it is because -you are, and because I love you so passionately, I will not let you -degenerate. I will find my way through somehow." - -I left mother a moment later, and I will own it, went to my own -lovely, lovely room, suitable for a girl who moved in the best -society, and burst into tears. It was astonishing what a sudden -passion I had taken, as my friends would say, to degrade myself; but -this did not look like degradation in my eyes, it was just honest -work. We wanted money, and we would earn it; we would go in debt to no -man; we would earn money for ourselves. But then the thought came to -me, "Was my scheme too expensive? had I any right to saddle mother -with such an enormous rent?" I had always considered myself a very -fair arithmetician, and I now sat down and went carefully into -accounts. I smile to this day as I think of myself seated at my -little table in the big bay window of my bedroom, trying to make out -with pencil and paper how I could keep 17 Graham Square going--I, a -girl without capital, without knowledge, without any of the sort of -experience which alone could aid me in a crisis of this sort. - -I spent the rest of the day in very low spirits, for my accounts would -not, however hard I tried, show any margin of profit. - -The more difficulties came in my way, however, the more determined was -I to overcome them. Presently I took a sheet of paper and wrote a few -lines to Mr. Hardcastle. I knew his address, and wrote to him direct. - -"Dear sir," I said, "will you oblige me by letting me know what -capital my mother will require in order to become your tenant for 17 -Graham Square." - -I signed this letter, adding a postscript, "An early answer will -oblige." - -I received the answer about noon the following day. - - "DEAR MISS WICKHAM,--Your letter puzzles me. I see you have - a great deal of pluck and endeavour, and I should certainly - do my utmost to please you, but I cannot let you have the - house under a capital of five thousand pounds." - -The letter fell from my hands, and I sat in blank despair. Five -thousand pounds is a small sum to many people, to others it is as -impossible and as unget-at-able as the moon. We, when our debts were -paid, would have nothing at all to live on except the annuity which my -mother received from the Government, and a small sum of fifty pounds a -year. - -I began dismally to consider what rent we must pay for the awful -cottage in the country, and to what part of the country it would be -best to retire, when Paul came into the room and presented me with a -card. - -"There's a lady--a person, I mean--downstairs, and she wants to see -you, Miss." - -I took the card and read the name--Miss Jane Mullins. - -"Who is she?" I asked; "I don't know her." - -"She's a sort of betwixt and between, Miss. I showed her into the -li'bry. I said you was most likely engaged, but that I would inquire." - -"Miss Jane Mullins." I read the name aloud. "Show her up, Paul," I -said then. - -"Oh, my dear West, what do you mean?" said mother; "that sort of -person has probably called to beg." - -"She may as well beg in the drawing-room as anywhere else," I said. "I -have rather taken a fancy to her name--Jane Mullins." - -"A hideous name," said mother; but she did not add any more, for the -next moment there came a rustle of harsh silk on the landing, the -drawing-room door was flung open by Paul in his grandest style, and -Miss Jane Mullins walked in. She entered quickly, with a determined -step. She was a little woman, stoutly built, and very neatly and at -the same time quietly dressed. Her dress was black silk, and I saw at -a glance that the quality of the silk was poor. It gave her a harsh -appearance, which was further intensified by a kind of fixed colour in -her cheeks. Her face was all over a sort of chocolate red. She had -scanty eyebrows and scanty hair, her eyes were small and twinkling, -she had a snub nose and a wide mouth. Her age might have been from -thirty-five to forty. She had, however, a great deal of -self-possession, and did not seem at all impressed by my -stately-looking mother and by my tall, slender self. - -As she had asked particularly to see me, mother now retired to the -other end of the long drawing-room and took up a book. I invited Miss -Mullins to a chair. - -"I would a great deal rather you called me Jane at once and have done -with it," was her remarkable response to this; "but I suppose Jane -will come in time." Here she heaved a very deep sigh, raised her veil -of spotted net, and taking out her handkerchief, mopped her red face. - -"It's a warm day," she said, "and I walked most of the way. I suppose -you would like me to proceed to business. I have come, Miss -Wickham--Miss Westenra Wickham--to speak on the subject of 17 Graham -Square." - -"Have you?" I cried. Had the ground opened I could not have been more -amazed. What had this little, rather ugly woman, to do with my -dream-house, 17 Graham Square? - -"It is a very beautiful, fine house," said the little woman. "I went -all over it this morning. I heard from your agents, Messrs. Macalister -& Co., that you are anxious to take it." - -I felt that my agents were very rude in thus giving me away, and made -no response beyond a stately bend of my head. I was glad that mother -was occupying herself with some delicate embroidery in the distant -window. She certainly could not hear our conversation. - -Miss Mullins now pulled her chair forward and sat in such a position -that her knees nearly touched mine. - -"You'll forgive a plain question," she said; "I am here on business. -Are you prepared to take the house?" - -"We certainly wish to take it," I said. - -"But are you going to take it, Miss Wickham?" - -I rather resented this speech, and was silent. - -"Now I'll be plain. My name is blunt, and so is my nature. I want the -house." - -I half rose. - -"Sit down, Miss Wickham, and don't be silly." - -This speech was almost intolerable, and I thought the time had come -when I should call to mother to protect me, but Jane Mullins had such -twinkling, good-humoured eyes, that presently my anger dissolved into -a curious desire to laugh. - -"I know, Miss Wickham, you think me mad, and I was always accounted a -little queer, but I'll beat about the bush no longer. You want 17 -Graham Square, and so do I. You have got beauty and good birth and -taste and style, and your name and your appearance will draw -customers; and I have got experience and"--here she made a long, -emphatic pause--"_money_. Now my question is this: Shall we club -together?" - -I never in all my life felt more astonished, I was nearly stunned. - -"Club together?" I said. - -"Yes, shall we? Seven thousand pounds capital has been placed at my -disposal. You, I understand, have got furniture, at least some -furniture"--here she glanced in a rather contemptuous way round our -lovely drawing-room. "You also, of course, have a certain amount of -connection, and I have got a large and valuable connection. Shall we -club together?" - -"I do not think we have any connection at all," I said bluntly; "not -one of our friends will notice us when we go to--to Bloomsbury, and -we have not half enough furniture for a house like 17 Graham Square. -But what do you mean by our clubbing together?" - -"Let me speak, my dear. What I want is this. I want you to put your -furniture, what there is of it, and your connection, what there is of -it, and your good birth and your style, and your charming mother into -the same bag with my experience and my capital--or rather, the capital -that is to be given to me. Will you do it? There's a plain question. -Is it to be yes, or is it to be no? I want 17 Graham Square, and so do -you. Shall we take it together and make a success of it? I like you, -you are honest, and you're nice to look at, and I don't mind at all -your being stiff to me and thinking me queer, for by-and-by we'll be -friends. Is it to be a bargain?" - -Just then mother rose from her seat and came with slow and stately -steps across the room. - -"What is it, Westenra?" she said; "what does this--this lady want?" - -"Oh, I'm not a lady, ma'am," said Jane Mullins, rising and dropping a -sort of involuntary curtsey. "I'm just a plain body, but I know all -about cooking, and all about servants, and all about house linen, and -all about dusting, going right into corners and never slurring them, -and all the rest, and I know what you ought to give a pound for beef -and for mutton, and what you ought to give a dozen for eggs, and for -butter, and how to get the best and freshest provisions at the lowest -possible price. I know a thousand things, my dear madam, that you do -not know, and that your pretty daughter doesn't know, and what I say -is; as we both want 17 Graham Square, shall we put our pride in our -pockets and our finances into one bag, and do the job. My name is Jane -Mullins. I never was a grand body. I'm plain, but I'm determined, and -I am good-humoured, and I am true as steel. I can give you fifty-four -references if you want them, from a number of very good honest -tradesmen who know me, and know that I pay my debts to the uttermost -farthing. Will you join me, or will you not?" - -"Well," said mother, when this curious little person had finished -speaking, "this is quite the most astounding thing I ever heard of in -my life. Westenra dear, thank this person very kindly, tell her that -you know she means well, but that of course we could not think of her -scheme for a single moment." - -Mother turned as she spoke, and walked up the drawing-room again, and -I looked at Jane Mullins, and Jane Mullins looked at me, and her blue -eyes twinkled. She got up at once and held out her hand. - -"Then that's flat," she said; "you'll be sorry you have said it, for -Jane Mullins could have done well by you. Good-bye, miss; good-bye, -ma'am." - -She gave a little nod in the direction of my stately mother, and -tripped out of the room. I was too stunned even to ring the bell for -Paul, and I think Jane Mullins let herself out. - -Well, as soon as she was gone, mother turned on me and gave me the -first downright absolute scolding I had received since I was a tiny -child. She said she had been willing, quite willing, to please me in -every possible way, but when I descended to talk to people like Jane -Mullins, and to consider their proposals, there was an end of -everything, and she could not, for my father's sake, hear of such an -outrageous proposal for a moment. This she said with tears in her -eyes, and I listened quite submissively until at last the precious -darling had worn her anger out, and sat subdued and inclined to cry by -the open window. I took her hand then and petted her. I told her that -really my scolding was quite unmerited, as I had never heard of Jane -Mullins before, and was as much amazed as she was at her visit. - -"All the same," I added, "I have not the slightest doubt that, with -Jane Mullins at the helm, we should do splendidly." - -"My darling, darling West, this is just the straw too much," said -mother, and then I saw that it was the straw too much, and at that -moment who should come to visit us but pretty little Lady Thesiger. We -turned the conversation instinctively. Lady Thesiger said-- - -"You have not yet gone under, either of you, you are only talking -about it. You are quite fit to associate with me for the rest of the -day. I want you to come for a long drive in my carriage, and -afterwards we will go to the theatre together; there is a very good -piece on at the Lyceum. Now, then, be quick, Westenra, get into your -very smartest clothes, and Mrs. Wickham, will you also put on your -bonnet and mantle?" - -There was never any resisting Jasmine, and we spent the rest of the -day with her, and she was absolutely winning, and so pleasant that she -made mother forget Jane Mullins; but then during dinner, in the -queerest, most marvellous way, she drew the whole story of Jane -Mullins from us both, and mother described with great pride her action -in the matter. - -"Yes, that is all very fine," replied Jasmine; "but now I am going to -say a plain truth. I am going to imitate that wonderful little Jane. -My truth is this--I would fifty thousand times rather introduce my -nice American friends to Jane Mullins's boarding-house than I would to -yours, Westenra, for in Jane's they would have their wants attended -to, and be thoroughly comfortable, whereas in yours goodness only -knows if the poor darlings would get a meal fit to eat." - -This was being snubbed with a vengeance, and even mother looked angry, -and I think she thought that Lady Thesiger had gone too far. - -During the play that followed, and the drive home and the subsequent -night, I thought of nothing but Jane Mullins, and began more and more -to repent of my rash refusal of her aid. Surely, if Providence had -meant us to carry out our scheme, Providence had also supplied Jane -Mullins to help us to do it, and if ever woman looked true she did, -and if her references turned out satisfactory why should she not be a -sort of partner-housekeeper in the concern? - -So the next morning early I crept into mother's room, and whispered to -her all about Jane and my thoughts during the night, and begged of her -to reconsider the matter. - -"It is very odd, West," said mother, "but what your friend Jasmine -said has been coming to me in my dreams; and you know, darling, you -know nothing about cooking, and I know still less, and I suppose this -Miss Mullins would understand this sort of thing, so, Westenra, if -your heart is quite, quite set on it, we may as well see her again." - -"She left her address on her visiting-card. I will go to her the -moment I have finished breakfast," was my joyful response. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE BERLIN WOOL ROOM - - -I ordered the carriage and set off, mother having declined to -accompany me. Miss Mullins's address was at Highgate; she lived in a -small, new-looking house, somewhere near the Archway. I daresay Jane -saw me from the window, for I had scarcely run up the little path to -her house, and had scarcely finished sounding the electric bell, -before the door was opened by no less a person than herself. - -"Ah," she said, "I felt somehow that you would call; come in, Miss -Wickham." - -Her manner was extremely cordial, there was not a trace of offence at -the way in which we had both treated her the day before. She ushered -me into a sort of little Berlin wool room, all looking as neat as a -new pin. There was Berlin wool everywhere, on the centre-table, on the -mantelpiece, on the little side-table. There were Berlin wool -antimacassars and a Berlin wool screen, in which impossible birds -disported themselves over impossible water, and there was a large -waxwork arrangement of fruit and flowers in the centre of the -mantelpiece, and there were six chairs, all with their backs -decorously placed against the wall, and not a single easy chair. But -the room was spick and span with cleanliness and brightness and the -due effects of soap and water and furniture-polish. The little room -even smelt clean. - -Miss Mullins motioned me to one of the hard chairs. - -"I must apologise for the absence of the rocking-chair," she said, "it -is being mended, but I dare say being young you won't mind using that -hard chair for a little." - -"Certainly not," I replied. - -"I observe that every one lounges dreadfully just now," she continued, -"but I myself hate easy chairs, and as this is my own house I do not -have them in it. The room is clean, but not according to your taste, -eh?" - -"It is a nice room of its kind," I said, "but----" - -"You need not add any buts, I know quite well what you are thinking -about," said Jane Mullins; then she stood right in front of me, facing -me. - -"Won't you sit down?" I said. - -"No, thank you, I prefer standing. I only sit when I have a good deal -on my mind. What is it you have come to say?" - -I wished she would help me, but she had evidently no intention of -doing so. She stood there with her red face and her twinkling eyes, -and her broad, good-humoured mouth, the very personification of -homely strength, but she was not going to get me out of my difficulty. - -"Well," I said, stammering and colouring, "I have been thinking over -your visit, and--and----" - -"Yes, go on." - -"Do you really mean it, Miss Mullins?" I said then. "Would you really -like to join two such ignorant people as mother and me?" - -"Hark to her," said the good woman. "Look here, Miss Wickham, you have -reached quite the right frame of mind, and you're not a bit ignorant, -my dear, not a bit, only your knowledge and my knowledge are wide -apart. My dear Miss Wickham, knowledge is power, and when we join -forces and put our united knowledge into the same bag, we will have -huge results, huge results, my dear--yes, it is true." - -"Let us talk it out," I said. - -"Do you really mean, Miss Wickham, that you and your mother--your -aristocratic mother--are seriously thinking of entering into -partnership with me?" - -"I don't know about mother, but I know that I am leaning very much -towards the idea," I said; "and I think I ought to apologise, both for -my mother and myself, for the rude way in which we treated you -yesterday." - -"I expected it, love; I was not a bit surprised," said Jane Mullins. -"I thought it best to plump out the whole scheme and allow it to -simmer in your minds. Of course, at first, you were not likely to be -taken with it, but you were equally likely to come round. I stayed in -this morning on purpose; I was almost sure you would visit me." - -"You were right," I said. "I see that you are a very wise woman, and I -am a silly girl." - -"You are a very beautiful girl, Miss Wickham, and educated according -to your station. Your station and mine are far apart, but having got -capital and a certain amount of sense, it would be a very good -partnership, if you really think we could venture upon it." - -"I am willing," I said suddenly. - -"Then, that is right; here's my hand upon it; but don't be more -impulsive to-day, my dear, than you were yesterday. You must do things -properly. Here are different references of mine." She walked across -the room, took up a little packet, and opened it. - -"This is a list of tradespeople," she said; "I should like you to -write to them all; they will explain to a certain extent my financial -position; they will assure you that I, Jane Mullins, have been dealing -with them for the things that I require for the last seven years--a -seven years' reference is long enough, is it not? But if it is not -quite long enough, here is the address of the dear old Rector in -Shropshire who confirmed me, and in whose Sunday-school I was -trained, and who knew my father, one of the best farmers in the -district. - -"So much for my early life, but the most important reference of all is -the reference of the friend, who does not choose his or her name to be -mentioned, and who is helping me with capital; not helping you, Miss -Wickham, mind--not you nor Mrs. Wickham--but me _myself_, with capital -to the tune of seven thousand pounds. I could not do it but for that, -and as the person who is lending me this money to make this great -fortune happens to be a friend of Mr. Hardcastle's, I think he, Mr. -Hardcastle, will let us have the house." - -"Now this is all very startling and amazing," I said. "You ought to -tell us your friend's name and all about it; that is, if we are to go -properly into partnership." - -"It can't be done, my dear. The friend is a very old friend and a very -true one, and Mr. Hardcastle is the one to be satisfied. The friend -knows that for years I have wanted to start a boarding-house, but the -friend always thought there were difficulties in the way. I was too -homely, and people are grand in these days, and want some society airs -and manners, which you, my dear, possess. So if we put our fortunes -into one bag everything will come right, and you must trust me, that's -all." - -I was quite silent, thinking very hard. - -"When I saw 17 Graham Square yesterday," continued Miss Mullins, "I -said to myself, if there is a suitable house for our purpose in the -whole W.C. district it is that house. What a splendid drawing-room -there is, or rather two drawing-rooms; just the very rooms to -entertain people in in the evening. Now if we put all our fortunes -into one bag, you, my dear Miss Wickham, shall have the social part of -the establishment under your wing. I will arrange all about the -servants, and will see that the cooking is right, and will carve the -joints at dinner; and your beautiful, graceful, aristocratic lady -mother must take the head of the table. She won't have a great deal to -do, but her presence will work wonders." - -"And do you think we shall make any money with this thing?" I said. - -"It is my impression that we will; indeed I am almost sure of it, but -the house must be furnished suitably." - -"But what is your taste with regard to furniture, Miss Mullins?" I -asked, and now I looked apprehensively round the little Berlin wool -room. - -"Well, I always did incline to the primitive colours. I will be frank -with you, and say honestly that I never pass by that awful shop, -Liberty's in Regent Street, without shuddering. Their greens and their -greys and their pinks are not my taste, love--no, and never will be; -but I shall leave the furnishing to you, Miss Wickham, for I see by -the tone of that dress you are now wearing that you adhere to -Liberty, and like his style of decoration." - -"Oh, I certainly do," I replied. - -"Very well then, you shall furnish in Liberty style, or in any style -you fancy; it does not matter to me. You know the tastes of your own -set, and I hope we'll have plenty of them at No. 17, my dear. As a -matter of fact, all I care about in a room is that it should be -absolutely clean, free from dust, tidily arranged, and not too much -furniture in it. For the rest--well, I never notice pretty things when -they are about, so you need not bother about that as far as I am -concerned. The house is a very large one, and although you have some -furniture to meet its requirements, and what I have in this little -room will do for my own sitting-room, still I have not the slightest -doubt we shall have to spend about a thousand pounds in putting the -house into apple-pie order; not a penny less will do the job, of that -I am convinced." - -As I had no knowledge whatever on the subject I could neither gainsay -Miss Mullins nor agree with her. - -"The house must be the envy of all the neighbours," she said, and a -twinkle came into her eyes and a look of satisfaction round her mouth. - -"Oh, it shall be. How delightful you are!" I cried. - -"What I propose is this," said Jane Mullins; "we--your mother, you -and I--sign the lease, and we three are responsible. I take one third -of the profits, you a third, and your mother a third." - -"But surely that is not fair, for you are putting capital into it." - -"Not at all, it is my friend's capital, and that is the arrangement my -friend would like. Come, I cannot work on any other terms. I take a -third, you a third, and your mother a third. I, having experience, do -the housekeeping. Having experience, I order the servants. You arrange -the decorations for the table, you have the charge of the flowers and -the drawing-room in the evenings. As funds permit and paying guests -arrive you inaugurate amusements in the drawing-room, you make -everything as sociable and as pleasant as possible. Your mother gives -tone and distinction to the entire establishment." - -"You seem to be leaving very little for mother and me to do," I said. - -"Your mother cannot have much to do, for I do not think she is -strong," said Miss Mullins. "She is older than I am too, and has seen -a great deal of sorrow; but what she does, remember no one else can -do, she gives _the tone_. It's a fact, Miss Wickham, that you may try -all your life, but unless Providence has bestowed tone upon you, you -cannot acquire it. Now I have no tone, and will only obtrude myself -into the social circle to carve the joints at dinner; otherwise I -shall be busy, extremely busy in my own domain." - -"Well, as far as I am concerned, I am abundantly willing to enter into -this partnership," I said. "I like you very much, and I am sure you -are honest and true. I will tell mother what you have said to me, and -we will let you know immediately." - -"All I ask is that you prove me, my dear," said the little woman, and -then she took my hand and gave it a firm grip. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE PAYING GUESTS - - -Everything went smoothly after my interview with Jane Mullins. In an -incredibly short space of time the contract for the house was signed. -It was signed by mother, by me, and by Jane Mullins. Then we had -exciting and extraordinary days hunting for that furniture which Jane -considered suitable, and consulting about the servants, and the -thousand and one small minutiæ of the establishment. But finally Jane -took the reins into her own hands, whisking my mother and me off to -the country, and telling us that we could come and take possession on -the 29th of September. - -"There won't be any visitors in the house then," she said, "but all -the same, the house will be full, from attic to cellar, before the -week is out, and you had best be there beforehand. Until then enjoy -yourselves." - -Well, I did enjoy myself very much. It was quite terrible of me, for -now and then I saw such a look of sorrow on mother's face; but I -really did get a wonderful heartening and cheering up by Jane, and -when the weeks flew by, and the long desired day came at last, I -found myself in excellent spirits, but mother looked very pale and -depressed. - -"You will get accustomed to it," I said, "and I think in time you will -learn to like it. It is a brave thing to do. I have been thinking of -father so much lately, and I am quite certain that he would approve." - -"Do you really believe that, West?" asked my mother; "if I thought so, -nothing would really matter. West, dearest, you are so brave and -masculine in some things, you ought to have been a man." - -"I am very glad I am a woman," was my reply, "for I want to prove that -women can do just as strong things as men, and just as brave things if -occasion requires." - -So we arrived at the boarding-house, and Jane Mullins met us on the -steps, and took us all over it. It was a curious house, and at the -same time a very beautiful one. There was a certain mixture of tastes -which gave some of the rooms an odd effect. Jane's common-sense and -barbarous ideas with regard to colour, rather clashed with our -æsthetic instincts and our more luxurious ideas. But the drawing-room -at least was almost perfect. It was a drawing-room after mother's own -heart. In reality it was a very much larger and handsomer room than -the one we had left in Sumner Place, but it had a home-like look, and -the colouring was in one harmonious scheme, which took away from any -undue effect of size, and at the same time gave a delicious sense of -space. The old pictures, too, stood on the walls, and the old lovely -curtains adorned the windows; and the little easy chairs that mother -loved, stood about here and there, and all the nicknacks and articles -of vertu were to be found in their accustomed places; and there were -flowers and large palms, and we both looked around us with a queer -sense of wonder. - -"Why, mother," I said, "this is like coming home." - -"So it is," said mother, "it is extraordinary." - -"But Miss Mullins," I continued, "you told me you had no taste. How is -it possible that you were able to decorate a room like this, and, you -dear old thing, the carpet on the floor has quite a Liberty tone, and -what a lovely carpet, too!" - -Jane absolutely blushed. When she blushed it was always the tip of her -nose that blushed--it blushed a fiery red now. She looked down, and -then she looked up, and said after a pause-- - -"I guessed that, just what I would not like you would adore, so I did -the furnishing of this room on that principle. I am glad you are -pleased. I don't hold myself with cut flowers, nor nicknacks, nor -rubbish of that sort, but you do; and when people hold with them, and -believe in them, the more they have of them round, the better pleased -they are. Oh, and there's a big box of Fuller's sweetmeats on that -little table. I thought you would eat those if you had no appetite for -anything else." - -"But I have an excellent appetite," I answered; "all the same, I am -delighted to see my favourite sweets. Come, mother, we will have a -feast, both of us; you shall enjoy your favourite bon-bon this -minute." - -Mother got quite merry over the box, and Jane disappeared, and in five -minutes or so, a stylishly dressed parlour-maid came in with a -_récherché_ tea, which we both enjoyed. - -Mother's bedroom was on the first floor, a small room, but a very -dainty one; and this had been papered with a lovely shade of very pale -gold, and the hangings and curtains were of the same colour. There was -a little balcony outside the window where she could sit, and where she -could keep her favourite plants, and there in its cage was her old -Bully, who could pipe "Robin Adair," "Home, sweet Home," and "Charlie -is my Darling." The moment he saw mother he perked himself up, and -bent his little head to one side, and began piping "Charlie is my -Darling" in as lively a tone as ever bullfinch possessed. - -I had insisted beforehand on having my room at the top of the house -not far from Jane's, for of course the best bedrooms were reserved for -the boarders, the boarders who had not yet come. - -"But I have sheafs of letters, with inquiries about the house," said -Jane, "and after dinner to-night, my dear Miss Wickham, you and I must -go into these matters." - -"And mother, too," I said. - -"Just as she pleases," replied Jane, "but would not the dear lady like -her little reading-lamp and her new novel? I have a subscription at -Mudie's, and some new books have arrived. Would it not be best for -her?" - -"No," I said with firmness, "mother must have a voice in everything; -she must not drop the reins, it would not be good for her at all." - -Accordingly after dinner we all sat in the drawing-room, and Jane -produced the letters. Mother and I were dressed as we were accustomed -to dress for the evening. Mother wore black velvet, slightly, very -slightly, open at the throat, and the lace ruffles round her throat -and wrists were of Brussels, and she had a figment of Brussels lace -arranged with velvet and a small feather on her head. She looked -charming, and very much as she might have looked if she had been going -to the Duchess's for an evening reception, or to Lady Thesiger's for -dinner. - -As to me, I wore one of the frocks I had worn last season, when I had -not stepped down from society, but was in the thick of it, midst of -all the gaiety and fun. - -Jane Mullins, however, scorned to dress for the evening. Jane wore in -the morning a kind of black bombazine. I had never seen that material -worn by anybody but Jane, but she adhered to it. It shone and it -rustled, and was aggravating to the last degree. This was Jane's -morning dress, made very plainly, and fitting close to her sturdy -little figure, and her evening dress was that harsh silk which I have -already mentioned. This was also worn tight and plain, and round her -neck she had a white linen collar, and round her wrists immaculate -white cuffs, and no cap or ornament of any kind over her thin light -hair. Jane was certainly not beautiful to look at, but by this time -mother and I had discovered the homely steadfastness of her abilities, -and the immense good nature which seemed to radiate out of her kind -eyes, and we had forgotten whether she was, strictly speaking, -good-looking or not. - -Well, we three sat together on this first evening, and Jane produced -her letters. - -"Here is one from a lady in the country," she began; "she wishes to -come to London for the winter, and she wishes to bring a daughter with -her; the daughter requires lessons in something or other, some useless -accomplishment, no doubt--anyhow that is their own affair. They wish -to come to London, and they want to know what we will take them for as -permanent boarders. The lady's name is Mrs. Armstrong. Her letter of -inquiry arrived yesterday, and ought to be answered at once. She adds -in a postscript--'I hope you will do me cheap.' I don't like that -postscript; it has a low, mean sort of sound about it, and I doubt if -we will put up with her long, but, as she is the very first to apply -for apartments, we cannot tell her that the house is full up. Now I -propose that we give Mrs. Armstrong and her daughter the large front -attic next to my room. If the young lady happens to be musical, and -wishes to rattle away on a piano, she can have one there, and play to -her heart's content without anybody being disturbed. She cannot play -anywhere else that I can see, for your lady mother, my dear Miss -Wickham, cannot be worried and fretted with piano tunes jingling in -her ears." - -"West's mother must learn to put up with disagreeables," was my -mother's very soft reply. - -But I did not want her to have any disagreeables, so I said-- - -"Perhaps we had better not have Mrs. Armstrong at all." - -"Oh, my dear," was Jane's reply, "why should my spite at that -postscript turn the poor woman from a comfortable home? She shall -come. We will charge three guineas a week for the two." - -"But that is awfully little," I replied. - -"It is quite as much as they will pay for the attic, and they will be -awfully worrying, both of them. I feel it in my bones beforehand. -They'll be much more particular than the people who pay five guineas a -head for rooms on the first floor. Mark my words, Miss Wickham, it is -the attic boarders who will give the trouble, but we cannot help -that, for they are sure and certain, and are the backbone of the -establishment. I'll write to Mrs. Armstrong, and say that if they can -give us suitable references they can come for a week, in order that -both parties may see if they are pleased with the other." - -"Shall I write, or will you?" I asked. - -"Well, my dear, after a bit I shall be very pleased if you will take -the correspondence, which is sure to be a large item, but just at -first I believe that I can put things on a more business-like -footing." - -"Thank you very much," I said in a relieved tone. - -"That letter goes to-night," said Jane. She took a Swan fountain pen -from its place by her waist, scribbled a word or two on the envelope -of Mrs. Armstrong's letter, and laid it aside. - -"Now I have inquiries from a most genteel party, a Captain and Mrs. -Furlong: he is a retired army man, and they are willing to pay five -guineas a week between them for a comfortable bedroom." - -"But surely that is very little," I said again. - -"It is a very fair sum out of their pockets, Miss Wickham, and I think -we can afford to give them a nice room looking south on the third -floor, not on the second floor, and, of course, not on the first; but -on the third floor we can give them that large room which is decorated -with the sickly green. It will turn them bilious, poor things, if -they are of my way of thinking." - -Accordingly Captain and Mrs. Furlong were also written to that -evening, to the effect that they might enter the sacred precincts of -17 Graham Square as soon as they pleased. - -Two or three other people had also made inquiries, and having talked -their letters over and arranged what replies were to be sent, Miss -Mullins, after a certain hesitation which caused me some small -astonishment, took up her final letter. - -"A gentleman has written who wishes to come," she said, "and I think -he would be a desirable inmate." - -"A gentleman!" cried mother, "a gentleman alone?" - -"Yes, madam, an unmarried gentleman." - -I looked at mother. Mother's face turned a little pale. We had neither -of us said anything of the possibility of there being unmarried -gentlemen in the house, and I think mother had a sort of dim -understanding that the entire establishment was to be filled with -women and married couples. Now she glanced at Jane, and said in a -hesitating voice-- - -"I always felt that something unpleasant would come of this." - -Jane stared back at her. - -"What do you mean, Mrs. Wickham? The gentleman to whom I allude is a -real gentleman, and it would be extremely difficult for me to refuse -him, because he happens to be a friend of the friend who lent me the -seven thousand pounds capital." - -"There is a secret about that," I exclaimed, "and I think you ought to -tell us." - -Jane looked at me out of her honest twinkling eyes, and her resolute -mouth shut into a perfectly straight line; then nodding her head she -said-- - -"We cannot refuse this gentleman; his name is Randolph. He signs -himself James Randolph, and specially mentions the friend who lent the -money, so I do not see, as the house is almost empty at present, how -we can keep him out. I should say he must be a nice man from the way -he writes. You have no objection to his coming, have you, Mrs. -Wickham?" - -Still mother made no answer, but I saw a hot spot coming into both her -cheeks. - -"Didn't I tell you, Westenra," she said after a pause, "that matters -might be made very disagreeable and complicated? To be frank with you, -Miss Mullins," she continued, "I would much rather have only married -couples and ladies in the house." - -"Then, my dear madam, we had better close within the week," said Jane -Mullins in a voice of some indignation. "You ought to have arranged -for this at the time, and if you had mentioned your views I would -certainly not have joined partnership with you. What we want are -ladies _and_ gentlemen, and so many of them that the commonplace and -the vulgar will not be able to come, because there will not be room to -receive them. As to this gentleman, he has something to do in the -city, and likes to live in Bloomsbury, as he considers it the most -healthy part of London." Here Miss Mullins began to talk very -vigorously, and the tip of her nose became suspiciously red once more. - -"I propose," she continued, "as he is quite indifferent to what he -pays, charging Mr. Randolph five guineas a week, and giving him the -small bedroom on the drawing-room floor. It is a little room, but -nicely furnished. He will be a great acquisition." - -"May I see his letter?" asked mother. - -"I am sorry, Madam, but I would rather no one saw it. It mentions my -friend, and of course my friend would not like his name to get out, so -I must keep the letter private, but if Mr. Randolph makes himself in -any way disagreeable to you ladies I am sure he will go immediately, -but my impression is that you will find him a great acquisition. I -will write to him to-night, and say that he can have the accommodation -he requires, and ask him to name the day when he will arrive." - -After this we had a great deal of talk on other matters, and finally -Jane retired to her premises, and mother and I sat together in the -beautiful drawing-room. - -"Well, Westenra," said mother, "it is done. What do you think of it?" - -"It has only begun, mother dear. Up to the present I am charmed. What -a treasure we have secured in Jane." - -"It is all very queer," said mother. "Why would not she show us Mr., -Mr.----what was his name, Westenra?" - -"Randolph," I interrupted. - -"Why would she not show us Mr. Randolph's letter? I must say frankly -that I do not like it. The fact is, West, we are not in the position -we were in at Sumner Place, and we must be exceedingly circumspect. -You, for instance, must be distant and cold to all the men who come -here. You must be careful not to allow any one to take liberties with -you. Ah, my child, did we do wrong to come? Did we do wrong? It is -terrible for me to feel that you are in such an equivocal position." - -"Oh but, mother, I am not. I assure you I can look after myself; and -then I have you with me, and Jane Mullins is such a sturdy little -body. I am sure she will guide our ship, our new, delightful ship, -with a flowing sail into a prosperous harbour; and I cannot see, -mother, why we should not receive a man who is a real gentleman. It is -the men who are not gentlemen who will be difficult to deal with. Mr. -Randolph will probably be a great help to us, and for my part I am -glad he is coming." - -"Things are exactly as I feared," said mother, and I saw her anxious -eyes look across the room as though she were gazing at a vision which -gave her the greatest disquietude. - -Early the next day I hung father's picture in such a position in the -drawing-room that mother could have the eyes following her wherever -she turned. She often said that she was never comfortable, nor quite -at home, unless under the gaze of those eyes, and we made up our minds -not to mind the fact of our new boarders asking questions about the -picture, for we were intensely proud of my father, and felt that we -could say in a few dignified words all that was necessary, and that my -dear father would in a measure protect us in our new career. - -Early the next week the first boarders arrived. Three or four families -came the same day. Jane said that that was best. Jane was the one who -received them. She went into the hall and welcomed them in her brusque -tone and took them immediately to their rooms, in each of which -printed rules of the establishment were pinned up, and mother and I -did not appear until just before dinner, when the different boarders -had assembled in the drawing-room. - -"Dress for dinner and make yourself look as nice as you possibly can," -was Jane's parting shot to me, and I took her advice in my own way. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE FLOUR IN THE CAKE - - -"Put on the least becoming dress you have got, Westenra," said mother. - -"And what is that?" I asked, pausing with my hand on the handle of -mother's door. - -"Well," said my mother, considering, "it is a little difficult, for -all your dresses are perfectly sweet; but I think if there is one that -suits you rather less than another it is that cloudy blue with the -silver gauze over it." - -"O mother! that is a great deal too dressy," I exclaimed. - -"Well, there is the pale primrose." - -"Too dressy again." - -"One of your many white dresses--but then you look exquisite in white, -darling." - -"You had better leave it to me, mother," I said. "I promise to make -myself look as plain and uninteresting and unpretentious as possible." -And then I shut the door quickly and left her. - -The stepping down had been exciting, but the first firm footfall on -our new _terra firma_ was more exciting still. The boarders and I were -to meet at dinner. For the first time I was to be known to the world -as Miss Wickham, who kept a boarding-house in company with her mother -and a certain Miss Jane Mullins. It was not a high position according -to that set in which I was born. But never mind. Just because my -father had won the Victoria Cross would his daughter think nothing -degrading which meant an honourable and honest livelihood. So I -hastily donned a black net dress which was not too fashionable, and -without any ornament whatsoever, not even a string of pearls round my -neck, ran downstairs. But the dress was low and the sleeves were -short, and I could not keep the crimson of excitement out of my -cheeks, nor the fire of excitement out of my eyes. I ran into the -drawing-room, exclaiming "Mother! mother!" and forgot for the moment -that the drawing-room no longer belonged to mother and me, but was the -property of our paying guests, and our house was no longer ours. - -Mrs. and Miss Armstrong were standing near the hearth. Mrs. Armstrong -was a thin, meagre little woman, of about forty years of age. Country -was written all over her--provincial country. She had faded hair and a -faded complexion, and at times, and when not greatly excited, a faded -manner. When she was thinking of herself she was painfully affected; -when she was not thinking of herself she was hopelessly vulgar. Her -daughter was a downright buxom young person, who quite held her own. -Neither Mrs. nor Miss Armstrong were in evening dress, and they stared -with amazement and indignation at me. Miss Armstrong's cheeks became -flushed with an ugly red, but I tripped up to them just as if there -were no such thing as dress in the world, and held out my hand. - -"How do you do?" I said. "I am glad to see you. Won't you both sit -down? I hope you have found everything comfortable in your room." - -Then, as Mrs. Armstrong still stared at me, her eyes growing big with -amazement, I said in a low voice-- - -"My name is Wickham. I am one of the owners of this house." - -"Oh, Miss Wickham," said Mrs. Armstrong, and there was a perceptible -tone of relief in her voice. It did not matter how stylish Miss -Wickham looked, she was still only Miss Wickham, a person of no -importance whatsoever. - -"Come here, Marion," said Mrs. Armstrong, relapsing at once into her -commonest manner. "You must not sit too near the fire, for you will -get your nose red, and that is not becoming." - -Marion, however, drew nearer to the fire, and did not take the least -notice of her mother's remark. - -"So you keep this boarding-house," said Mrs. Armstrong, turning to me -again. "Well, I am surprised. Do you mind my making a blunt remark?" - -I did not answer, but I looked quietly back at her. I think something -in my steady gaze disquieted her, for she uttered a nervous laugh, and -then said abruptly-- - -"You don't look the thing, you know. You're one of the most stylish -young ladies I have ever seen. Isn't she, Marion?" - -"She is indeed," answered Miss Marion. "I thought she was a duchess at -least when she came into the room." - -"Come over here, Marion, and don't stare into the flames," was Mrs. -Armstrong's next remark. "I didn't know," she added, "we were coming -to a place of this kind. It is very gratifying to me. I suppose the -bulk of the guests here will be quite up to your standard, Miss -Wickham?" - -"I hope so," I replied. I was spared any more of my new boarders' -intolerable remarks, for at that moment Mrs. and Captain Furlong -appeared. He was a gentleman, and she was a lady. She was an everyday -sort of little body to look at, but had the kindest heart in the -world. She was neither young nor old, neither handsome nor the -reverse. She was just like thousands of other women, but there was a -rest and peace about her very refreshing. She was dressed suitably, -and her husband wore semi-evening dress. - -I went up to them, talked a little, and showed them some of the most -comfortable chairs in the room. We chatted on everyday matters, and -then mother appeared. Dear, dear mother! Had I done right to put her -in this position? She looked nervous, and yet she looked stately as I -had never seen her look before. I introduced her not only to the -Furlongs, who knew instinctively how to treat her, but also to Mrs. -and Miss Armstrong, and then to a Mr. and Mrs. Cousins who appeared, -and the three Miss Frosts, and some other people, who were all taking -possession of us and our house. Oh, it was confusing on that first -night. I could scarcely bear it myself. I had never guessed that the -very boarders would look down on us, that just because we were ladies -they would consider our position an equivocal one, and treat us -accordingly. I hoped that by-and-by it might be all right, but now I -knew that mother and I were passing through the most trying period of -this undertaking. Some of our guests were people of refinement, who -would know how to act and what to do under any circumstances, and some -again were of the Armstrong type, who would be pushing and -disagreeable wherever they went. Marion Armstrong, in particular, -intended to make her presence felt. She had a short conversation with -her mother, and then pushed her way across the room to where my own -mother sat, and stood before her and began to talk in a loud, brusque, -penetrating voice. - -"I have not been introduced to you, Madam; my name is Marion -Armstrong. I have come up to London to study Art. I was rather taken -aback when I saw you. You and Miss Wickham are the people who are our -landladies, so to speak, and you are so different from most landladies -that mother and I feel a little confused about it. Oh, thank you; you -wish to know if we are comfortable. We are fairly so, all things -considered; we don't _mind_ our attic room, but it's likely we'll have -to say a few words to your housekeeper--Miss Mullins, I think you call -her--in the morning. You doubtless, Madam, do not care to interfere -with the more sordid part of your duties." - -At that moment, and before my really angry mother could answer, the -door was opened, and there entered Jane Mullins in her usual sensible, -downright silken gown, and a tall man. I glanced at him for a puzzled -moment, feeling sure that I had seen him before, and yet not being -quite certain. He had good features, was above the medium height, had -a quiet manner and a sort of distant bearing which would make it -impossible for any one to take liberties with him. - -Miss Mullins brought him straight across the room to mother and -introduced him. I caught the name, Randolph. Mother bowed, and so did -he, and then he stood close to her, talking very quietly, but so -effectively, that Miss Armstrong, after staring for a moment, had to -vanish nonplussed into a distant corner of the drawing-room. I saw by -the way that young lady's eyes blazed that she was now intensely -excited. Mother and I had startled and confused her a good deal, and -Mr. Randolph finished the dazzling impression her new home was giving -her. Certainly she had not expected to see a person of his type here. -She admired him, I saw at a glance, immensely, and now stood near her -own mother, shaking her head now and then in an ominous manner, and -whispering audibly. - -Suddenly Jane, who was here, there, and everywhere, whisked sharply -round. - -"Don't you know Mr. Randolph, Miss Wickham?" she said. - -I shook my head. She took my hand and brought me up to mother's side. - -"Mr. Randolph," she said, "this is our youngest hostess, Miss Westenra -Wickham." - -Mr. Randolph bowed, said something in a cold, courteous tone, scarcely -glanced at me, and then resumed his conversation with mother. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE ARTIST'S EYE - - -During dinner I found myself seated next Miss Armstrong. Miss -Armstrong was on one side of me, and her mother was at the other. I -don't really know how I got placed between two such uncongenial -people, but perhaps it was good for me, showing me the worst as well -as the best of our position at once. I was having a cold douche with a -vengeance. - -As we were taking our soup (I may as well say that the ménu was -excellent, quite as good as many a grand West End dinner which I had -attended in my palmy days), Miss Armstrong bent towards me, spilling a -little of her soup as she did so, and said, in a somewhat audible -whisper-- - -"I wish you would give me a hint about him." - -"About whom?" I asked in return. - -"Mr. Randolph; he is one of the most stylish people I have ever met. -What are his tastes? Don't you know anything at all about him? Is he -married, for instance?" - -"I never saw Mr. Randolph before, and I know nothing about him," I -answered in a low, steady voice, which was in marked contrast to Miss -Armstrong's buzzing, noisy whisper. - -"Oh my!" said that young lady, returning again to the contemplation of -her soup. Her plate was taken away, and in the interval she once more -led the attack. - -"He _is_ distingué," she said, "quite one of the upper ten. I wish you -_would_ tell me where you met him before. You must have met him -before, you know; he would not come to a house like this if he was not -interested in you and your mother. He is a very good-looking man; I -admire him myself immensely." - -"I don't care to make personal remarks at dinner," I said, looking -steadily at the young lady. - -"Oh my!" she answered again to this; but as some delicious turbot was -now facing her, she began to eat it, and tried to cover her -mortification. - -Presently my neighbour to my right began to speak, and Mrs. -Armstrong's manners were only a shade more intolerable than her -daughter's. - -"Marion has come up to London to study h'Art," she said. She uttered -the last word in a most emphatic tone. "Marion has a great taste for -h'Art, and she wants to attend one of the schools and become an -h'artist. Do you think you could give us any advice on the subject, -Miss Wickham?" - -I answered gently that I had never studied Art myself, having no -leaning in that direction. - -"Oh dear: now I should have said you had the h'artist's h'eye," said -Mrs. Armstrong, glancing at my dress and at the way my hair was -arranged as she spoke. "You are very stylish, you know; you are a -good-looking girl, too, very good-looking. You don't mind me giving -you a plain compliment, do you, my dear?" - -I made no reply, but my cheeks had never felt more hot, nor I myself -more uncomfortable. - -Mrs. Armstrong looked me all over again, then she nodded across my -back at Miss Armstrong, and said, still in her buzzing half-whisper, -for the benefit of her daughter-- - -"Miss Wickham has got the h'artist's h'eye, and she'll help us fine, -after she's got over her first amazement. She's new to this business -any one can see; but, Marion, by-and-by you might ask her if she would -lend you that bodice to take the pattern. I like the way it is cut so -much. You have got a good plump neck, and would look well in one made -like it." - -Marion's answer to this was, "O mother, do hush;" and thus the -miserable meal proceeded. - -I was wondering how my own mother was getting on, and at last I -ventured to glance in her direction. She was seated at the head of the -table, really doing nothing in the way of carving, for the dishes, -except the joints, were all handed round, and the joints Jane Mullins -managed, standing up to them and carving away with a rapidity and -_savoir faire_ which could not but arouse my admiration. The upper -part of the table seemed to be in a very peaceful condition, and I -presently perceived that Mr. Randolph led the conversation. He was -having an argument on a subject of public interest with Captain -Furlong, and Captain Furlong was replying, and Mr. Randolph was -distinctly but in very firm language showing the worthy captain that -he was in the wrong, and Mrs. Furlong was laughing, and mother was -listening with a pleased flush on her cheeks. After all the dear -mother was happy, she was not in the thick of the storm, she was not -assailed by two of the most terrible women it had ever been my lot to -encounter. - -The meal came to an end, and at last we left the room. - -"Stay one minute behind, dear," said Jane Mullins to me. - -I did so. She took me into her tiny little parlour on the ground -floor. - -"Now then, Miss Wickham, what's the matter? You just look as if you -were ready to burst into tears. What's up? Don't you think our first -dinner was very successful--a good long table all surrounded with -people pleased with their dinner, and in high good humour, and you -were the cause of the success, let me tell you, dear. They will talk -of you right and left. This boarding-house will never be empty from -this night out, mark my words; and I never was wrong yet in a matter -of plain common-sense." - -"But oh, dear!" I cried, and I sank into a chair, and I am sure the -tears filled my eyes; "the company are so mixed, Miss Mullins, so -terribly mixed." - -"It takes a lot of mixing to make a good cake," was Jane's somewhat -ambiguous answer. - -"Now, what do you mean?" - -"Well, any one can see with half an eye that you object to Mrs. and -Miss Armstrong, and I will own they are not the sort of folks a young -lady like yourself is accustomed to associate with; but all the same, -if we stay here and turn this house into a good commercial success, we -must put up with those sort of people, they are, so to speak, the -support of an establishment of this sort. I call them the flour of the -cake. Now, flour is not interesting stuff, at least uncombined with -other things; but you cannot make a cake without it. People of that -sort will go to the attics, and if we don't let the attics, my dear -Miss Wickham, the thing won't pay. Every attic in the place must be -let, and to people who will pay their weekly accounts regularly, and -not run up bills. It's not folks like your grand Captain Furlong, nor -even like Mr. Randolph, who make these sort of places 'hum,' so to -speak. This establishment shall _hum_, my dear, and hum right merrily, -and be one of the most popular boarding-houses in London. But you -leave people like the Armstrongs to me. To-morrow you shall sit right -away from them." - -"No, I will not," I said stoutly, "why should you have all the burden, -and mother and I all the pleasure? You are brave, Miss Mullins." - -"If you love me, dear, call me Jane, I can't bear the name of Mullins. -From the time I could speak I hated it, and three times in my youth I -hoped to change it, and three times was I disappointed. The first man -jilted me, dear, and the second died, and the third went into an -asylum. I'm Mullins now, and Mullins I'll be to the end. I never had -much looks to boast of, and what I had have gone, so don't fret me -with the knowledge that I am an old maid, but call me Jane." - -"Jane you shall be," I said. She really was a darling, and I loved -her. - -I found after my interview with Jane that the time in the drawing-room -passed off extremely well, and this I quickly discovered was owing to -Mr. Randolph, who, without making the smallest effort to conciliate -the Armstrongs, or the Cousinses, or any of the other _attic strata_, -as Jane called them, kept them all more or less in order. He told a -few good stories for the benefit of the company, and then he sat down -to the piano and sang one or two songs. He had a nice voice, not -brilliant, but sweet and a real tenor, and he pronounced his words -distinctly, and every one could listen, and every one did listen with -pleasure. As to Mrs. and Miss Armstrong they held their lips apart in -their amazement and delight. Altogether, I felt that Mr. Randolph had -made the evening a success, and that without him, notwithstanding -Jane's cheery words, the thing would have been an absolute failure. - -Just towards the close of the evening he came up to my side. - -"I must congratulate you," he said. - -"On what?" I answered somewhat bitterly. - -"On your delightful home, on your bravery." He gave me a quick glance, -which I could not understand, which I did not understand until many -months afterwards. I was not sure at that moment whether he was -laughing at me or whether he was in earnest. - -"I have something to thank you for," I said after a moment, "it was -good of you to entertain our guests, but you must not feel that you -are obliged to do so." - -He looked at me then again with a grave and not easily comprehended -glance. - -"I assure you," he said slowly, "I never do anything I don't like. -Pray don't thank me for exactly following my own inclinations. I was -in the humour to sing, I sing most nights wherever I am. If you object -to my singing pray say so, but do not condemn me to silence in the -future, particularly as you have a very nice piano." - -"You look dreadfully out of place in this house," was my next remark; -and then I said boldly, "I cannot imagine why you came." - -"I wonder if that is a compliment, or if it is not," said Mr. -Randolph. "I do not believe I look more out of place here than you do, -but it seems to me that neither of us are out of place, and that the -house suits us very well. I like it; I expect I shall be extremely -comfortable. Jane Mullins is an old friend of mine. I always told her, -that whenever she set up a boarding-house I would live with her. For -instance, did you ever eat a better dinner than you had to-night?" - -"I don't know," I answered, "I don't care much about dinners, but it -seemed good, at least it satisfied every one." - -"Now I am a hopeless epicure," he said slowly. "I would not go -anywhere if I was not sure that the food would be of the very best. -No, Miss Wickham, I am afraid, whether you like it or not, you cannot -get rid of me at present; but I must not stand talking any longer. I -promised to lend your mother a book, it is one of Whittier's, I will -fetch it." - -He left the room, came back with the book in question, and sat down by -mother's side. He was decidedly good-looking, and most people would -have thought him charming, but his manner to me puzzled me a good -deal, and I was by no means sure that I liked him. He had grey eyes, -quite ordinary in shape and colour, but they had a wonderfully -quizzical glance, and I felt a sort of fear, that when he seemed to -sympathise he was laughing at me; I also felt certain that I had seen -him before. Who was he? How was it possible that a man of his standing -should have anything to do with Jane Mullins, and yet they were -excellent friends. The little woman went up to him constantly in the -course of the evening, and asked his advice on all sorts of matters. -What did it mean? I could not understand it! - -We took a few days settling down, and during that time the house -became full. It was quite true that Mrs. Armstrong talked of us to her -friends. The next day, indeed, she took a complete survey of the house -accompanied by Jane; making frank comments on all she saw, complaining -of the high prices, but never for a moment vouchsafing to give up her -large front attic, which was indeed a bedroom quite comfortable enough -for any lady. She must have written to her friends in the country, for -other girls somewhat in appearance like Marion Armstrong joined our -family circle, sat in the drawing-room in the evening, talked _at_ Mr. -Randolph, and looked at him with eager, covetous eyes. - -Mr. Randolph was perfectly polite to these young ladies, without ever -for a single moment stepping down from his own pedestal. Marion -Armstrong, poke as she would, could not discover what his special -tastes were. When she questioned him, he declared that he liked -everything. Music?--certainly, he adored music. Art?--yes, he did -sketch a little. The drama?--he went to every piece worth seeing, and -generally on first nights. The opera?--he owned that a friend of his -had a box for the season, and that he sometimes gave him a seat in it. - -Miss Armstrong grew more and more excited. She perfectly worried me -with questions about this man. Where did he come from? Who was he? -What was his profession? Did I think he was married! Had he a secret -care? Was he laughing at us? - -Ah, when she asked me the last question, I found myself turning red. - -"You know something about him, and you don't choose to tell it," said -Marion Armstrong then, and she turned to Mrs. Cousins' daughter, who -had come up to town with a view of studying music, and they put their -heads together, and looked unutterable things. - -Before we had been a fortnight in the place, all the other girls vied -with me as to their dinner dress. They wore low dresses, with short -sleeves, and gay colours, and their hair was fantastically curled, and -they all glanced in the direction where Mr. Randolph sat. - -What hopes they entertained with regard to him I could never divine, -but he seemed to be having the effect which Jane desired, and the -attics were filling delightfully. - -Jane whispered to me at the end of the second week, that she feared -she had made a great mistake. - -"Had I known that Mr. Randolph would have the effect he seems to be -having," she said, "I might have doubled our prices from the very -beginning, but it is quite too late now." - -"But why should it be necessary for us to make so much money?" I said. - -Jane looked at me with a queer expression. - -"So _much_!" she said. "Oh, we shall do, I am certain we shall do; but -I am particularly anxious not to touch that seven thousand pounds -capital; at least not much of it. I want the house to pay, and -although it is a delightful house, and there are many guests coming -and going, and it promises soon to be quite full, yet it must remain -full all through the year, except just, of course, in the dull season, -if it is to pay well. We might have charged more from the beginning; I -see it now, but it is too late." - -She paused, gazed straight before her, and then continued. - -"We must get more people of the Captain Furlong type," she said. "I -shall advertise in the _Morning Post_, and the _Standard_; I will also -advertise in the _Guardian_. Advertisements in that paper are always -regarded as eminently respectable. We ought to have some clergymen in -the house, and some nice unmarried ladies, who will take rooms and -settle down, and give a sort of religious respectable tone. We cannot -have too many Miss Armstrongs about; there were six to dinner last -night, and they rather overweighted the scale. Our cake will be heavy -if we put so much flour into it." - -I laughed, and counselled Jane to advertise as soon as possible, and -then ran away to my own room. I felt if this sort of thing went on -much longer, if the girls of the Armstrong type came in greater and -greater numbers, and if they insisted on wearing all the colours of -the rainbow at dinner, and very low dresses and very short sleeves, I -must take to putting on a high dress without any ornaments whatsoever, -and must request mother to do likewise. - -Miss Armstrong was already attending an Art school, where, I cannot -remember, I know it was not the Slade; and on bringing back some of -her drawings, she first of all exhibited them to her friends, and then -left them lying on the mantelpiece in the drawing-room, evidently in -the hopes of catching Mr. Randolph's eye. She did this every evening -for a week without any result, but at the end of that time he caught -sight of a frightfully out-of-drawing charcoal study. It was the sort -of thing which made you feel rubbed the wrong way the moment you -glanced at it. It evidently rubbed him the wrong way, but he stopped -before it as if fascinated, raised his eyebrows slightly, and looked -full into Miss Armstrong's blushing face. - -"You are the artist?" he said. - -"I am," she replied; "it is a little study." Her voice shook with -emotion. - -"I thought so," he said again; "may I congratulate you?" He took up -the drawing, looked at it with that half-quizzical, half-earnest -glance, which puzzled not only Miss Armstrong and her friends but also -myself, and then put it quietly back on the mantelpiece. - -"If you leave it there, it will get dusty and be spoiled," he said. -"Is it for sale?" he continued, as if it were an after-thought. - -"Oh no, sir," cried Miss Armstrong, half abashed and delighted. "It is -not worth any money--at least I fear it is not." - -"But I am so glad you like it, Mr. Randolph," said Mrs. Armstrong, now -pushing vigorously to the front; "I always did say that Marion had the -h'artist's soul. It shines out of her eyes, at least I am proud to -think so; and Marion, my dear, if the good gentleman would _like_ the -little sketch, I am sure you would be pleased to give it to him." - -"But I could not think of depriving Miss Armstrong of her drawing," -said Mr. Randolph, immediately putting on his coldest manner. He -crossed the room and seated himself near mother. - -"There now, ma, you have offended him," said Marion, nearly crying -with vexation. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -HER GRACE OF WILMOT - - -On a certain morning, between twelve and one o'clock, the inhabitants -of Graham Square must have felt some slight astonishment as a carriage -and pair of horses dashed up to No. 17. On the panels of the carriage -were seen the coronet, with the eight strawberries, which denotes the -ducal rank. The coachman and footman were also in the well-known -livery of the Duke of Wilmot. One of the servants got down, rang the -bell, and a moment later the Duchess swept gracefully into the -drawing-room, where mother and I happened to be alone. She came up to -us with both hands outstretched. - -"My dears," she said, glancing round, "are they all out?" - -"I am so glad to see you, Victoria," replied mother; "but whom do you -mean? Sit down, won't you?" - -The Duchess sank into the nearest chair. She really looked quite -nervous. - -"Are the boarders out?" she said again; "I could not encounter them. I -considered the whole question, and thought that at this hour they -would, in all probability, be shopping or diverting themselves in -some way. Ah, Westenra, let me look at you." - -"But do you really want to look at me, Duchess?" I asked somewhat -audaciously. - -"I see you have lost none of your spirit," said the Duchess, and she -patted me playfully with a large fan which she wore at her side. -"There, sit down in that little chair opposite, and tell me all about -everything. How is this--this curious concern going?" - -"You can see for yourself," I answered; "this room is not exactly an -attic, is it?" - -"No, it is a very nice reception-room," said the Duchess, glancing -approvingly around her. "It has, my dear Mary--forgive me for the -remark--a little of the Mayfair look; a large room, too, nearly as -large as our rooms in Grosvenor Place." - -"Not quite as large," I replied, "and it is not like your rooms, -Duchess, but it does very well for us, and it is certainly better and -more stimulating than a cottage in the country." - -"Ah, Westenra, you are as terribly independent as ever," said the -Duchess. "What the girls of the present day are coming to!" She sighed -as she spoke. - -"But you are a very pretty girl all the same," she continued, giving -me an approving nod. "Yes, yes, and this phase will pass, of course it -will pass." - -"Why have you come to see us to-day, Victoria?" asked my mother. - -"My dear friend," replied the Duchess, dropping her voice, "I have -come to-day because I am devoured with curiosity. I mean to drop in -occasionally. Just at present, and while the whole incident is fresh -in the minds of our friends, you would scarcely like me to ask you to -my receptions, but by-and-by I doubt not it can be managed. The fact -is, I admire you both, and very often think of you. The Duke also is -greatly tickled at the whole concern; I never saw him laugh so -heartily about anything. He says that, as to Westenra, she is -downright refreshing; he never heard of a girl of her stamp doing this -sort of thing before. He thinks that she will make a sort of -meeting-place, a sort of bond between the West and the--the--no, not -the East, but this sort of neutral ground where the middle-class -people live." - -The Duchess looked round the big room, and then glanced out at the -Square. - -"Harrison had some difficulty in finding the place," she said, "but -the British Museum guided him; it is a landmark. Even we people of -Mayfair go to the British Museum sometimes. It is colossal and -national, and you live close to it. Do you often study there, -Westenra? Don't go too often, for stooping over those old books gives -girls such a poke. But you really look quite comfortable here." - -"We are delightfully comfortable," I said. "We enjoy our lives -immensely." - -"It is very nice to see you, Victoria," said mother. - -Then I saw by the look on mother's face that while I had supposed her -to be perfectly happy, all this time she had been more or less -suffering. She had missed the people of her own kind. The Duchess -looked her all over. - -"You are out of your element here, Mary," she said, "and so is this -child. It is a preposterous idea, a sort of freak of nature. I never -thought Westenra would become odd; she bids fair to be very odd. I -don't agree with the Duke. I don't care for odd people, they don't -marry well as a rule. Of course there are exceptions. I said so to the -Duke when----" - -"When what?" I said, seeing that she paused. - -"Nothing, my love, nothing. I have come here, Westenra, to let you and -your mother know that whenever you like to step up again I will give -you a helping hand." - -"Oh, we are never going back to the old life," I said. "We could not -afford it, and I don't know either that we should care to live as we -did--should we, Mummy? We know our true friends now." - -"That is unkind, my child. The fact is, it is the idea of the -_boarding-house_ that all your friends shrink from. If you and your -mother had taken a nice house in the country, not a large and -expensive house, but a fairly respectable one, with a little ground -round, I and other people I know might have got ladies to live with -you and to pay you well. Our special friends who wanted change and -quiet might have been very glad to go to you for two or three weeks, -but you must see for yourselves, both of you, that this sort of thing -is impossible. Nevertheless, I came here to-day to say that whenever, -Westenra, you step up, you will find your old friend----" - -"And godmother," I said. - -"And godmother," she repeated, "willing to give you a helping hand." - -"When you became my godmother," I said slowly (oh, I know I was very -rude, but I could not quite help myself), "you promised for me, did -you not, that I should not love the world?" - -The Duchess gazed at me out of her round, good-humoured brown eyes. - -"We all know just what that means," she said. - -"No, we do not," I answered. "I think very few people do know or -realise it in the very least. Now stepping back again might mean the -world; perhaps mother and I would rather stay where we are." - -As I spoke I got up impatiently and walked to one of the windows, and -just then I saw Mr. Randolph coming up the steps. As a rule he was -seldom in to lunch; he was an erratic individual, always sleeping in -the house, and generally some time during the day having a little chat -with mother, but for the rest he was seldom present at any of our -meals except late dinner. Why was he coming to lunch to-day? I heard -his step on the stairs, he had a light, springy step, the drawing-room -door opened and he came in. - -"Ah, Jim," said the Duchess, "I scarcely expected to see you here." - -She got up and held out her hand; he grasped it. I thought his face -wore a peculiar expression. I am not quite certain about this, for I -could not see him very well from where I was standing, but I did -notice that the Duchess immediately became on her guard. She dropped -his hand and turned to mother. - -"I met Mr. Randolph last year in Italy," she said. - -Mother now entered into conversation with them both, and I stood by -the window looking out into the square, and wondering why the Duchess -had coloured when she saw him. Why had she called him Jim? If she only -met him last year abroad it was scarcely likely that she would be -intimate enough to speak to him by his Christian name. A moment later -she rose. - -"You may take me down to my carriage, Jim," she said. "Good-bye, -Westenra; you are a naughty girl, full of defiance, and you think your -old godmother very unkind, but whenever you step up I shall be waiting -to help you. Good-bye, good-bye. Oh hurry, please, Mr. Randolph, some -of those creatures may be coming in. Good-bye, dear, good-bye." - -She nodded to mother, laid her hand lightly on Mr. Randolph's arm, -who took her down and put her into her carriage. They spoke together -for a moment, I watched them from behind the drawing-room curtains, -then the carriage rolled away, and the square was left to its usual -solid respectability. Doctors' carriages did occasionally drive -through it, and flourishing doctors drove a pair of horses as often as -not, but the strawberry on the panels showed itself no more for many a -long day in that region. - -At lunch the boarders were in a perfect state of ferment. Even Captain -and Mrs. Furlong were inclined to be subservient. Did we really know -the Duchess of Wilmot? Captain Furlong was quite up in the annals of -the nobility. This was one of his little weaknesses, for he was quite -in every sense of the word a gentleman; but he did rather air his -knowledge of this smart lady and of that whom he had happened to meet -in the course of his wanderings. - -"There are few women I admire more than the Duchess of Wilmot," he -said to mother, "she is so charitable, so good. She was a Silchester, -you know, she comes of a long and noble line. For my part, I believe -strongly in heredity. Have you known the Duchess long, Mrs. Wickham?" - -"All my life," answered mother simply. - -"Really! All your life?" - -"Yes," she replied, "we were brought up in the same village." - -The servant came up with vegetables, and mother helped herself. -Captain Furlong looked a little more satisfied. - -Mrs. Armstrong gave me a violent nudge in the side. - -"I suppose your mother was the clergyman's daughter?" she said. "The -great people generally patronise the daughters of the clergy in the -places where they live. I have often noticed it. I said so to Marion -last night. I said, if only, Marion, you could get into that set, you -would begin to know the upper ten, clergymen are so respectable; but -Marion, if you'll believe it, will have nothing to do with them. She -says she would not be a curate's wife for the world. What I say is -this, she wouldn't always be a curate's wife, for he would be sure to -get a living, and if he were a smart preacher, he might be a dean -by-and-by, or even a bishop, just think of it. But Marion shuts her -eyes to all these possibilities, and says that nothing would give her -greater torture than teaching in Sunday-school and having mothers' -meetings. With her h'artistic soul I suppose it is scarcely to be -expected that she should take to that kind of employment. And your -mother was the clergyman's daughter, was she not?" - -"No," I answered. I did not add any more. I did not repeat either that -the Duchess happened to be my godmother. I turned the conversation. - -Mr. Randolph sat near mother and talked to her, and soon other things -occupied the attention of the boarders, and the Duchess's visit ceased -to be the topic of conversation. - -On the next evening but one, Mr. Randolph came to my side. - -"I heard your mother say, Miss Wickham, that you are both fond of the -theatre. Now I happen to have secured, through a friend, three tickets -for the first night of Macbeth. I should be so glad if you would allow -me to take you and Mrs. Wickham to the Lyceum." - -"And I should like it, Westenra," said mother--she came up while he -was speaking. Miss Armstrong happened to be standing near, and I am -sure she overheard. Her face turned a dull red, she walked a step or -two away. I thought for a moment. I should have greatly preferred to -refuse; I was beginning, I could not tell why, to have an uneasy -feeling with regard to Mr. Randolph--there was a sort of mystery about -his staying in the house, and why did the Duchess know him, and why -did she call him Jim. But my mother's gentle face and the longing in -her eyes made me reply-- - -"If mother likes it, of course I shall like it. Thank you very much -for asking us." - -"I hope you will enjoy it," was his reply, "I am glad you will come." -He did not allude again to the matter, but talked on indifferent -subjects. We were to go to the Lyceum on the following evening. - -The next day early I went into mother's room. Mother was not at all as -strong as I could have wished. She had a slight cough, and there was a -faded, fagged sort of look about her, a look I had never seen when we -lived in Mayfair. She was subject to palpitations of the heart too, -and often turned quite faint when she went through any additional -exertion. These symptoms had begun soon after our arrival at 17 Graham -Square. She had never had them in the bygone days, when her friends -came to see her and she went to see them. Was mother too old for this -transplanting? Was it a little rough on her? - -Thoughts like these made me very gentle whenever I was in my dear -mother's presence, and I was willing and longing to forget myself, if -only she might be happy. - -"What kind of day is it, Westenra?" she said the moment I put in an -appearance. She was not up yet, she was lying in bed supported by -pillows. Her dear, fragile beautiful face looked something like the -most delicate old porcelain. She was sipping a cup of strong soup, -which Jane Mullins had just sent up to her. - -"O Mummy!" I said, kissing her frantically, "are you ill? What is the -matter?" - -"No, my darling, I am quite as well as usual," she answered, "a little -weak, but that is nothing. I am tired sometimes, Westenra." - -"Tired, but you don't do a great deal," I said. - -"That's just it, my love, I do too little. If I had more to do I -should be better." - -"More visiting, I suppose, and that sort of thing?" I said. - -"Yes," she answered very gently, "more visiting, more variety, more -exchange of ideas--if it were not for Mr. Randolph." - -"You like him?" I said. - -"Don't you, my darling?" - -"I don't know, mother, I am not sure about him. Who is he?" - -"A nice gentlemanly fellow." - -"Mother, I sometimes think he is other than what he seems, we know -nothing whatever about him." - -"He is a friend of Jane Mullins's," said mother. - -"But, mother, how can that be? He is not really a friend of Jane -Mullins's. Honest little Jane belongs essentially to the people. You -have only to look from one face to the other to see what a wide gulf -there is between them. He is accustomed to good society; he is a man -of the world. Mother, I am certain he is keeping something to himself. -I cannot understand why he lives here. Why should he live here?" - -"He likes it," answered mother. "He enjoys his many conversations with -me. He likes the neighbourhood. He says Bloomsbury is far more healthy -than Mayfair." - -"Mother, dear, is it likely that such a man would think much about his -health." - -"I am sorry you are prejudiced against him," said mother, and a -fretful quaver came into her voice. "Well," she added, "I am glad the -day is fine, we shall enjoy our little expedition this evening." - -"But are you sure it won't be too much for you?" - -"Too much! I am so wanting to go," said mother. - -"Then that is right, and I am delighted." - -"By the way," continued mother, "I had a note this morning from Mr. -Randolph; he wants us to dine with him first at the Hotel Cecil." - -"Mother!" - -"Yes, darling; is there any objection?" - -"Oh, I don't like it," I continued; "why should we put ourselves under -an obligation to him?" - -"I do not think, Westenra, you need be afraid; if I think it right to -go you need have no scruples." - -"Of course I understand that," I answered, "and if it were any one -else I should not think twice about it. If the Duchess, for instance, -asked us to dine with her, and if she took us afterwards to the -theatre I should quite rejoice, but I am puzzled about Mr. Randolph." - -"Prejudiced, you mean, dear; but never mind, you are young. As long as -you have me with you, you need have no scruples. I have written a line -to him to say that we will be pleased to dine with him. He is to meet -us at the hotel, and is sending a carriage for us here. I own I shall -be very glad once in a way to eat at a table where Mrs. Armstrong is -not." - -"I have always tried to keep Mrs. Armstrong out of your way, mother." - -"Yes, darling; but she irritates me all the same. However, she is a -good soul, and I must learn to put up with her. Now then, West, what -will you wear to-night?" - -"Something very quiet," I answered. - -"One of your white dresses." - -"I have only white silk, that is too much." - -"You can make it simpler; you can take away ornaments and flowers. I -want to see you in white again. I am perfectly tired of that black -dress which you put on every evening." - -I left mother soon afterwards, and the rest of the day proceeded in -the usual routine. I would not confess even to myself that I was glad -I was going to the Lyceum with Mr. Randolph and mother, but when I saw -a new interest in her face and a brightness in her voice, I tried to -be pleased on her account. After all, she was the one to be -considered. If it gave her pleasure it was all as it should be. - -When I went upstairs finally to dress for this occasion, which seemed -in the eyes of Jane Mullins to be a very great occasion, she (Jane) -followed me to my door. I heard her knock on the panels, and told her -to come in with some impatience in my voice. - -"Now that is right," she said; "I was hoping you would not put on that -dismal black. Young things should be in white." - -"Jane," I said, turning suddenly round and speaking with great -abruptness, "what part of the cake do you suppose Mr. Randolph -represents?" - -Jane paused for a moment; there came a twinkle into her eyes. - -"Well, now," she said, "I should like to ask you that question myself, -say in a year's time." - -"I have asked it of you now," I said; "answer, please." - -"Let's call him the nutmeg," said Jane. "We put nutmeg into some kinds -of rich cake. It strikes me that the cake of this establishment is -becoming very rich and complicated now. It gives a rare flavour, does -nutmeg, used judiciously." - -"I know nothing about it," I answered with impatience. "What part of -the cake is mother?" - -"Oh, the ornamental icing," said Jane at once; "it gives tone to the -whole." - -"And I, Jane, I?" - -"A dash of spirit, which we put in at the end to give the subtle -flavour," was Jane's immediate response. - -"Thank you, Jane, you are very complimentary." - -"To return to your dress, dear, I am glad you are wearing white." - -"I am putting on white to please mother," I replied, "otherwise I -should not wear it. To tell the truth, I never felt less disposed for -an evening's amusement in my life." - -"Then that is extremely wrong of you, Westenra. They are all envying -you downstairs. As to poor Miss Armstrong, she would give her eyes to -go. They are every one of them in the drawing-room, and dressed in -their showiest, and it has leaked out that you won't be there, nor -Mrs. Wickham, nor--nor Mr. Randolph, and that I'll be the only one to -keep the place in order to-night. I do trust those attic boarders -won't get the better of me, for I have a spice of temper in me when I -am roused, and those attics do rouse me sometimes almost beyond -endurance. As I said before, we get too much of the attic element in -the house, and if we don't look sharp the cake will be too heavy." - -"That would never do," I replied. I was hurriedly fastening on my -white dress as I spoke. It was of a creamy shade, and hung in graceful -folds, and I felt something like the Westenra of old times as I -gathered up my fan and white gloves, and wrapped my opera cloak round -me. I was ready. My dress was simplicity itself, but it suited me. I -noticed how slim and tall I looked, and then ran downstairs, -determined to forget myself and to devote the whole evening to making -mother as happy as woman could be. - -Mother was seated in the drawing-room, looking stately, a little -nervous, and very beautiful. The ladies of the establishment were -fussing round her. They had already made her into a sort of queen, and -she certainly looked regal to-night. - -The servant came up and announced that the carriage was waiting. We -went downstairs. It was a little brougham, dull chocolate in colour. A -coachman in quiet livery sat on the box; a footman opened the door for -us. The brougham was drawn by a pair of chestnuts. - -"Most unsuitable," I murmured to myself. "What sort of man is Mr. -Randolph?" - -Mother, however, looked quite at home and happy in the little -brougham. She got in, and we drove off. It was now the middle of -November, and I am sure several faces were pressed against the glass -of the drawing-room windows as we were whirled rapidly out of the -Square. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -WHY DID HE DO IT? - - -Mr. Randolph had engaged a private room at the hotel. We sat down -three to dinner. During the first pause I bent towards him and said in -a semi-whisper-- - -"Why did you send that grand carriage for us?" - -"Did it annoy you?" he asked, slightly raising his brows, and that -quizzical and yet fascinating light coming into his eyes. - -"Yes," I replied. "It was unsuitable." - -"I do not agree with you, Westenra," said mother. - -"It was unsuitable," I continued. "When we stepped into our present -position we meant to stay in it. Mr. Randolph humiliates us when he -sends unsuitable carriages for us." - -"It happened to be my friend's carriage," he answered simply. "He lent -it to me--the friend who has also given me tickets for the Lyceum. I -am sorry. I won't transgress again in the same way." - -His tone did not show a trace of annoyance, and he continued to speak -in his usual tranquil fashion. - -As to mother, she was leaning back in her chair and eating a little, -a very little, of the many good things provided, and looking simply -radiant. She was quite at home. I saw by the expression on her face -that she had absolutely forgotten the boarding-house; the attics were -as if they had never existed; the third floor and the second floor -boarders had vanished completely from her memory. Even Jane Mullins -was not. She and I were as we used to be; our old house in Sumner -Place was still our home. We had our own carriage, we had our own -friends. We belonged to Mayfair. Mother had forgotten Bloomsbury, and -what I feared she considered its many trials. Mr. Randolph talked as -pleasantly and cheerfully as man could talk, keeping clear of shoals, -and conducting us into the smoothest and pleasantest waters. - -When dinner was over he led us to the same unsuitable carriage and we -drove to the Lyceum. We had a very nice box on the first tier, and saw -the magnificent play to perfection. Mr. Randolph made me take one of -the front chairs, and I saw many of my old friends. Lady Thesiger -kissed her hand to me two or three times, and at the first curtain -paid us both a brief visit. - -"Ah," she said, "this is nice; your trial scheme is over, Westenra, -and you are back again." - -"Nothing of the kind," I answered, colouring with vexation. - -"Introduce me to your friend, won't you?" she continued, looking at -Mr. Randolph with a queer half amused gaze. - -I introduced him. Lady Thesiger entered into conversation. Presently -she beckoned me out of the box. - -"Come and sit with me in my box during the next act," she said, "I -have a great deal to say to you." - -"But I don't want to leave mother," I replied. - -"Nonsense! that cavalier of hers, that delightful young man, how -handsome and distinguished looking he is! will take care of her. What -do you say his name is--Randolph, Randolph--let me think, it is a good -name. Do you know anything about him?" - -"Nothing whatever, he happens to be one of our boarders," I replied. -"He has taken a fancy to mother, and gave us tickets and brought us to -this box to-night." - -Jasmine looked me all over. - -"I must say you have not at all the appearance of a young woman who -has stepped down in the social scale," she remarked. "What a pretty -dress that is, and you have a nicer colour than ever in your cheeks. -Do you know that you are a very handsome girl?" - -"You have told me so before, but I detest compliments," was my brusque -rejoinder. - -"Oh! I can see that you are as queer and eccentric as ever. Now I tell -you what it is, it is my opinion that you're not poor at all, and -that you are doing all this for a freak." - -"And suppose that were the case, what difference would it make?" I -inquired. - -"Oh! in that case," answered Lady Thesiger, "your friends would simply -think you eccentric, and love you more than ever. It is the fashion to -be eccentric now, it is poverty that crushes, you must know that." - -"Yes," I answered with bitterness, "it is poverty that crushes. Well, -then, from that point of view we are crushed, for we are desperately -poor. But in our present nice comfortable house, even contaminated as -we are by our paying guests, we do not feel our poverty, for we have -all the good things of life around us, and the whole place seems very -flourishing. Why don't you come to see us, Jasmine?" - -"I am afraid you will want me to recommend my friends to go to you, -and I really cannot, Westenra, I cannot." - -"But why should you not recommend them?" - -"They will get to know that you were, that you belonged, that -you"--Jasmine stopped and coloured high. "I cannot do it," she said, -"you must not expect it." - -"I won't," I replied with some pride. - -"But all the same, I will come some morning," she continued. "You look -so nice, and Mr. Randolph is so--by the way, what Randolph is he? I -must find out all about him. Do question him about the county he comes -from." - -I did not answer, and having said good-bye to Jasmine, returned to our -own box. - -The play came to an end, and we went home. Mother had gone up to her -room. Mr. Randolph and I found ourselves for a moment alone. - -"This evening has done her good," he said, glancing at me in an -interrogative fashion. - -"Are you talking of mother?" I replied. - -"Yes, you must see how much brighter she appeared. Do you think it did -really help her?" - -"I do not understand you," I replied; "help her? She enjoyed it, of -course." - -"But can't you see for yourself," he continued, and his voice was -emphatic and his eyes shone with suppressed indignation, "that your -mother is starving. She will not complain; she is one of the best and -sweetest women I have ever met, but all the same, I am anxious about -her, this life does not suit her--not at all." - -"I am sure you are mistaken; I do not think mother is as miserable as -you make her out to be," I replied. "I know, of course, she enjoyed -this evening." - -"She must have more evenings like this," he continued; "many more, and -you must not be angry if I try to make things pleasant for her." - -"Mr. Randolph," I said impulsively, "you puzzle me dreadfully. I -cannot imagine why you live with us; you do not belong to the class of -men who live in boarding-houses." - -"Nor do you belong to the class of girls who keep boarding-houses," he -replied. - -"No, but circumstances have forced mother and me to do what we do. -Circumstances have not forced you. It was my whim that we should earn -money in this way. You don't think that I was cruel to mother. She -certainly did not want to come here, it was I who insisted." - -"You are so young and so ignorant," he replied. - -"Ignorant!" I cried. - -"Yes, and very young." He spoke sadly. "You cannot see all that this -means to an older person," he continued. "Now, do not be angry, but I -have noticed for some time that your mother wants change. Will you try -to accept any little amusements I may be able to procure for her in a -friendly spirit? I can do much for her if it does not worry you, but -if you will not enjoy her pleasures, she will not be happy either. Can -you not understand?" - -I looked at him again, and saw that his face was honest and his eyes -kind. - -"May I give your mother these little pleasures?" he continued; "she -interests me profoundly. Some day I will tell you why I have a special -reason for being interested in your mother. I cannot tell you at -present, but I do not want you to misunderstand me. May I make up to -her in a little measure for much that she has lost, may I?" - -"You may," I answered; "you are kind, I am greatly obliged to you. I -will own that I was cross for a moment--you hurt my pride; but you may -do what you like in future, my pride shall not rise in a hurry again." -I held out my hand, he took it and wrung it. I ran upstairs, mother -was sitting before her fire. She looked sweet, and her eyes were -bright, and there was a new strength in her voice. - -"We have had a delightful evening," she said. "I hope you are not -tired, my darling." - -"I am quite fresh," I answered. "I am so pleased you enjoyed it." - -"I did, dearest; did you?" - -"Yes, and no," I answered; "but if you are happy I am." - -"Sit down by me, Westenra. Let us talk a little of what has just -happened." - -I humoured her, of course. Mr. Randolph's words had rather alarmed me. -Did he see more ill-health about mother than I had noticed? was he -seriously anxious about her? But now as she sat there she seemed well, -very well, not at all tired, quite cheerful, and like her own self. -She took my hand. - -Jane--dear, active, industrious Jane--had gone early to bed, but a -little supper had been left ready for mother. She tasted some of the -jelly, then laid the spoon down by her plate. - -"You were rude to Mr. Randolph at dinner, West," she said. - -"I am sorry if I vexed you," I answered. - -"But what had he done to annoy you?" - -"I could not bear him to send that carriage. It was so unsuitable, -servants in livery and those splendid horses; and all the boarders did -stare so. It seemed quite out of keeping with our present lot. But -never mind, Mummy, he may bring any carriage--the Lord Mayor's, if you -like--only don't look so unhappy." I felt the tears had come into my -voice, but I took good care they should not reach my eyes. I bent and -kissed mother on her cheek. - -"You want your old life, your dear old life," I said, "and your old -comforts. I am very happy, and I want you to be the same. If I have -made a mistake, and you are injured by this, it will break my heart." - -"I am not injured at all, I am happy," she said. - -"You like Mr. Randolph?" - -"I do. He belongs to the old life." - -"Then he is no mystery to you?" - -"I take him quite simply, as a good-natured fellow, who has plenty of -money, and is attracted by our rather queer position," she answered, -"that is all. I don't make mysteries where none may exist." - -"Then I will do likewise," I said cheerfully. - -The next morning when I awoke it seemed like a dream that we had -dined at the Cecil and enjoyed the luxury of a box at the Lyceum, that -we had for a brief time stepped back into our old existence. - -The morning was a foggy one, one of the first bad fogs of the season. -The boarders were cross--breakfast was not quite as luxurious as -usual; even Jane was a little late and a little put out. The boarders -were very fond of porridge, and it happened to be slightly burnt that -morning. There were discontented looks, and even discontented words, -from more than one uninteresting individual. Then Mr. Randolph came -in, looking very fresh and neat and pleasant, and sat down boldly in -the vacant seat near me, and began to talk about last night. Mother -never got up until after breakfast. Mrs. Armstrong gazed at me, and -Miss Armstrong tossed her food about, and the other boarders, even the -Furlongs, cast curious glances in our direction; but I had determined -to take him at his word, and to enjoy all the pleasures he could give -us; and as to Mr. Randolph himself, I don't believe any one could -upset his composure. He talked a good deal about our last night's -entertainment, and said that he hoped to be able to take us to the -theatre again soon. - -Just at that moment a shrill voice sounded in his ears. - -"Did I hear you say, Mr. Randolph," called out Mrs. Armstrong from her -place at the opposite side of the board, "that you have a large -connection with the theatrical managers?" - -"No, you did not, Mrs. Armstrong," was his very quiet rejoinder. - -"I beg your pardon, I'm sure." Mrs Armstrong flushed. Miss Armstrong -touched her on her arm. - -"Lor! mother, how queer of you," she said; "I am sure Mr. Randolph -said nothing of the kind. Why, these play managers are quite a low -sort of people; I'm ashamed of you, mother." - -"I happen to know Irving very well," said Mr. Randolph, "and also -Beerbohm Tree and Wilson Barrett, and I do not think any of these -distinguished men of genius are a low sort of people." - -"It is the exception that proves the rule," said Mrs. Armstrong, -glancing at her daughter and bridling. "You should not take me up so -sharp, Marion. What I was going to say was this, Mr. Randolph--can you -or can you not get us tickets cheap for one of the plays. We have a -great hankering to go, both me and Marion, and seeing that we are all -in this house--one family, so to speak--it don't seem fair, do it, -that _all_ the favour should go to one?"--here she cast a withering -glance at me. - -Mr. Randolph turned and looked at me, and that quizzical laughing -light was very bright in his eyes, then he turned towards Mrs. -Armstrong, and, after a brief pause, said gently-- - -"What day would suit you best to go to the Lyceum?" - -"Oh, Mr. Randolph!" said Marion Armstrong in a voice of rapture. - -"Because if to-morrow night would be convenient to you two ladies," he -continued, "I think I can promise you stalls. I will let you know at -lunch-time." Here he rose, gave a slight bow in the direction of the -Armstrongs, and left the room. - -"Now I have done it, and I am glad," said Mrs. Armstrong. - -"I do hope, ma," continued Marion, "that he means to come with us. I -want to go just as Mrs. Wickham and Miss Wickham went, in the brougham -with the coachman and the footman, and to have dinner at the Cecil. It -must be delightful dining at the Cecil, Miss Wickham. They say that -most dinners there cost five pounds, is that true?" - -"I cannot tell you," I replied. "Mother and I were Mr. Randolph's -guests." - -Mrs. Armstrong looked me up and down. She thought it best at that -moment to put on a very knowing look, and the expression of her face -was most annoying. - -"Don't you ask impertinent questions, Marion," she said; "you and me -must be thankful for small mercies, and for those two stalls, even if -we do go as lone females. But I hope to goodness Mr. Randolph won't -forget about it. If he does, I'll take the liberty to remind him. Now -be off with you, Marion, your h'Art awaits you. What you may become if -you take pains, goodness only knows. You may be giving tickets -yourself for the theatre some day--that is, if you develop your -talents to the utmost." - -Amongst other matters which Jane Mullins took upon her own broad -shoulders was the interviewing of all strangers who came to inquire -about the house. She said frankly that it would never do for me to -undertake this office, and that mother was not to be worried. She was -the person to do it, and she accordingly conducted this part of the -business as well as--I began dimly to perceive--almost every other, -for mother had next to nothing to do, and I had still less. I almost -resented my position--it was not what I had dreamed about. I ought to -help Jane, I ought to throw myself into the work, I ought to make -things go smoothly. Dear Jane's fagged face began to appeal less to me -than it had at first. Was I getting hardened? Was I getting injured? I -put these questions to myself now and then, but I think without any -great seriousness--I was sure that my plan was, on the whole, -sensible, and I would not reproach myself for what I had done. - -On the evening of the day which followed our visit to the Lyceum a new -inmate appeared in the drawing-room. He was a tall man, considerably -over six feet in height, very lanky and thin, with a somewhat German -cast of face, pale-blue eyes, a bald forehead, hair slightly inclined -to be sandy, an ugly mouth with broken teeth, and a long moustache -which, with all his efforts, did not conceal this defect. - -The new boarder was introduced to my mother and me by Jane Mullins as -Mr. Albert Fanning. He bowed profoundly when the introduction was -made, and gave me a bold glance. At dinner I found, rather to my -annoyance, that he was placed next to me. Jane usually put strangers -next to me at the table, as she said that it gave general -satisfaction, and helped to keep the house full. - -"What sort of man is Mr. Fanning?" I asked as we were going down to -dinner. - -"I don't know anything about him, dear," was her reply. "He pays well, -generously, in fact--no less than five guineas a week. He has a room -on the first floor, but not one of our largest. It is a very good -thing to have him, for we don't often let the first floor rooms. It's -the attics and third floors that go off so quickly. I don't know -anything about him, but he seems to be somewhat of a character." - -I made no reply to this, but the moment we seated ourselves at table -Mr. Fanning bent towards me, and said in a low voice-- - -"I think myself extremely honoured to have made your acquaintance, -Miss Wickham." - -"Indeed," I answered in some surprise. "And why, may I ask?" - -"I have often seen you in the Park. I saw you there last season and -the season before. When I heard that you and Mrs. Wickham had taken -this boarding-house, I made a point of securing rooms here as quickly -as possible." - -As he said this I felt myself shrinking away from him. I glanced in -the direction of the upper part of the table, where Mr. Randolph was -talking to mother. Mr. Fanning bent again towards me. - -"I do not wish to say anything specially personal," he remarked, "but -just for once I should like to say, if I never repeat it again, that I -think you are a most enterprising, and, let me repeat, most charming -young lady." - -The servant was helping me just then to some bread. I turned my face -away from Mr. Fanning, but when I looked round again he must have seen -my flushed cheeks. - -"I am a publisher," he said, lowering his voice, which was one of his -most trying characteristics whenever he addressed me. "Most girls like -to hear about publishers and about books. Has the writing mania seized -you yet, Miss Wickham?" - -"No," I replied, "I have not the slightest taste for writing. I am not -the least bit imaginative." - -"Now, what a pity that is; but there is a great deal of writing -besides the imaginative type. What I was going to say was this, that -if at any time a small manuscript of yours were put in my way, it -would receive the most prompt and business-like attention. I am a very -business-like person. I have an enormous connection. My place of -business is in Paternoster Row. The Row is devoted to books, as you -know. All my books are of a go-ahead stamp; they sell by thousands. -Did you ever see a publisher's office, Miss Wickham?" - -"No," I said. - -"I should be most pleased to conduct you over mine, if you liked to -call some day at the Row. I could take you there immediately after -luncheon, and show you the premises any day you liked. Eh! Did you -speak?" - -"I am very much occupied with my mother, and seldom or never go -anywhere without her," was my reply to this audacious proposal. I then -turned my shoulder upon my aggressive neighbour, and began to talk -frantically to a lady at my other side. She was a dull little woman, -and I could scarcely get a word out of her. Her name was Mrs. Sampson; -she was slightly deaf, and said "Eh, eh!" to each remark of mine. But -she was a refuge from the intolerable Mr. Fanning, and I roused myself -to be most polite to her during the remainder of the meal. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -TWO EXTREMES - - -Mr. Fanning followed us upstairs after dinner. I greatly hoped that he -was the sort of man who would not often frequent the drawing-room, but -I soon perceived my mistake. He not only entered that apartment, but -attached himself as soon as possible to my side. He was beyond doubt -the most disagreeable boarder we had yet secured. Indeed, Mrs. and -Miss Armstrong were delightful compared to him. I now saw Miss -Armstrong glance two or three times both at him and me, and rising -deliberately, I crossed the room, and with a motion of my hand, asked -him to accompany me. I then introduced him to that young lady. She -blushed when I did so, and bridled a little. She did not evidently -think him at all objectionable. I went back immediately to my seat -near mother, and could scarcely suppress a feeling of pleasure at Mr. -Fanning's too evident discomfiture. - -I generally sang a couple of songs in the evening, and I was asked, as -usual, to do so to-night. My voice was a rather sweet mezzo soprano, -and I had been well taught. I sat down before the piano, as usual. -When Mr. Randolph was in the room he always came and turned the pages -of my music for me, but he was not present this evening, although he -had dined with us; he had evidently gone out immediately afterwards. -Now a voice sounded in my ears. I turned, and saw the objectionable -and irrepressible Mr. Fanning. - -"Why did you play me that trick?" he said. - -"What trick?" I asked. "I do not play tricks; I do not understand -you." - -"You do understand me perfectly well. Oh, pray do sing this song; I am -sure it is charming. It is an old English ditty, is it not?--'Begone, -Dull Care, You and I will Never Agree.' Now, that is just my way of -thinking. I hate dismal people, and as to care, I never bother with -it. To hear such a sprightly song from your lips will be indeed what I -may call a pick-me-up." - -I almost rose from the piano, but knowing that such a proceeding would -call public attention to Mr. Fanning's most unpleasant remarks, I said -in a low, emphatic voice-- - -"I will not play for you, nor allow you to turn my music, if you talk -to me as you are now doing. You must address me as you would any other -lady, and I will not permit what you consider compliments." - -"Oh, I am sure I have no wish to offend. Sorry I spoke," he said. He -did not blush--I do not think he could--but he passed his hand across -his rather ugly mouth, and gave me a peculiar glance out of his queer -blue eyes. He then said in a low voice-- - -"Believe me, it will be my utmost endeavour to make myself agreeable. -I quite see what you mean. You do not want folks to remark; that's it, -and I absolutely understand. But you must not play me those sort of -tricks again, you know. I really cannot be introduced to ladies of the -sort you just gave me an introduction to." - -"Miss Armstrong is an excellent girl," I said, "and I shall ask her to -sing when I leave the piano. She is very talented, and has a love both -for music and art." - -I then sang my one song, enduring the odious proximity of this most -unpleasant man. I fancied I saw a conscious expression on the faces of -several of our guests, and resolved that whatever happened, Mr. -Fanning must leave on the following day. Such a man could not be -permitted to remain in the place. - -Later on, as I was going to bed, there came a tap at my door. I opened -it, half hoping, half fearing, that Jane herself might have come to -see me. On the contrary, somewhat to my surprise, I saw Mrs. Furlong. -She asked me if she might come in. I eagerly begged of her to do so, -and drew a comfortable chair forward for her acceptance. - -"What is the matter?" I said. "Do you want to say anything special?" - -"I do, my dear Miss Wickham," replied the lady. "I have come for the -purpose." - -"Yes?" I said in a slight tone of query. - -"How did that objectionable man, Mr. Fanning, get here?" - -"I suppose he came because he wanted to," I replied. "The house is -open to any one who will pay, and who bears a respectable character." - -"The house ought only to be open to those who bear agreeable -characters, and know how to act as gentlemen," replied Mrs. Furlong -stoutly. "Now my husband and I dislike that person extremely, but -after all the fact of whether we like him or not matters but little; -it is because he tries to annoy you that we are really concerned. -Would you not rather at dinner come and sit at our end of the table? -It always seems very hard to us that you should sit with your -housekeeper, Miss Mullins, and amongst the least nice members of the -establishment." - -"But you must please remember," I said, "that Jane is not a -housekeeper, she is one of the partners in this concern. It is kind of -you to think of me, but I cannot do what you propose. I must help Jane -in every way in my power. You do not know how good and true she is, -and how little I really do for her. If I sat with you we should have a -regular clique in the place, and by degrees the boarders would go, at -least those boarders who were not included in our set." - -"I see," answered Mrs. Furlong. "It is all most unsuitable," she -added, and she stared straight before her. After a moment's pause she -looked at me again. - -"It is the queerest arrangement I ever heard of in all my life. Don't -you think you are peculiarly unsuited to your present life?" - -"I don't know; I hope not." - -"You are a lady." - -"That is my birthright. The boarding-house cannot deprive me of it," I -answered. - -"Oh, I know all that, but the life is not suitable. You will find it -less and less suitable as time goes on. At present you have got your -mother to protect you, but----" - -"What do you mean by at present I have got my mother?" I cried. "My -mother is young, comparatively young; she is not more than three and -forty. What do you mean, Mrs. Furlong?" - -"Oh nothing, dear," she said, colouring, "nothing at all. One always -has, you know, in this uncertain world to contemplate the possibility -of loss, but don't think again of what I have said. The fact is the -life is quite as unsuitable for her as for you. You are put in a -position which you cannot possibly maintain, my dear Miss Wickham. -That awful man felt to-night that he had a right to pay you -disagreeable attentions. Now is this thing to go on? I assure you -Captain Furlong and I were quite distressed when we saw how he behaved -to you when you were at the piano." - -The tears rushed to my eyes. - -"It is kind of you to sympathise with me," I said. "I am going to -speak to Jane Mullins to-morrow. If possible Mr. Fanning must go." - -"But there is another thing," began Mrs. Furlong. She paused, and I -saw that she was about to say something, even more disagreeable than -anything she had yet uttered. - -"You have your mother, of course," she continued slowly, "but you -yourself are very young, and--now I don't want to compliment you--but -you are much nicer looking than many girls; you have quite a different -air and appearance from any other girl in this house. Oh, I hate -interfering, but your mother, Miss Wickham, must be a particularly -innocent woman." - -"What do you mean?" I asked. - -"I mean Mr. Randolph," she answered, and she raised her eyes and fixed -them on my face. - -"Mr. Randolph?" I said. "Surely you must admit that he at least is a -gentleman?" - -"He is not only a gentleman, but he is more highly born and has more -money than any one else in the house; he does not belong to the set -who fill this house at all. Why does he come? This is no place for -him. In one way it is quite as unsuitable to have him here as it is to -have a man like Mr. Fanning here. Those two men represent opposite -extremes. People will talk." - -"What about?" I asked. - -"About you, dear." - -"They cannot. I will not permit it." Then I said abruptly, standing up -in my excitement, "After all, I don't care whether they talk or not; I -was prepared for misunderstandings when I came here. Mother likes Mr. -Randolph; he at least shall stay." - -"But, my child, it is not nice to be talked about; it is never nice -for a young girl. People like my husband and myself quite understand. -We know well that you and your mother are at present out of your right -position, but others will not be so considerate. Mr. Randolph is -always here." - -"You think," I said, stammering, "that he comes because----" - -She smiled, got up and kissed me. - -"What else could he come for, Westenra?" she said softly. - -"He comes because--because of mother," I answered. "He likes her; he -told me so. He is anxious about her, for he thinks she misses her old -life very much; he wants to make things easier for her. He is a very -good man, and I respect him. I don't mind what any one says, I know in -my heart he comes here because----" - -"No, you do not," said Mrs. Furlong, and she looked me full in the -eyes, and I found myself colouring and stammering. - -"Believe me I have not intruded upon you this evening without cause," -said the little woman. "I talked the matter over with my husband. I -would rather Mr. Fanning were here than Mr. Randolph. Mr. Fanning is -impossible, Mr. Randolph is not. He does not come here on account of -your mother, he comes here because he likes you. I am very sorry; I -felt I must speak; my husband agrees with me." - -"Do not say another word now," I said. "I am sure you mean all this -kindly, but please do not say any more now. I will think over what you -have said." - -"I will leave you then, dear," she said. - -She went as far as the door; she was a very kindly little woman, she -was a real lady, and she meant well, but she had hurt me so -indescribably that at that moment I almost hated her. When she reached -the door she turned and said-- - -"If ever my husband and I can help you, Miss Wickham (but we are poor -people), if ever we can help you, we will be glad to do so. I know you -are angry with me now, but your anger won't remain, you will see who -are your true friends by-and-by." - -She closed the door softly, and I heard her gentle steps going -downstairs. I will frankly say that I did not go to bed for some time, -that I paced indignantly up and down my room. I hated Jane, I hated -Mr. Fanning, I still more cordially hated Mr. Randolph at that moment. -Mr. Fanning must go, Mr. Randolph must go. I could not allow myself to -be spoken about. How intolerable of Mr. Randolph to have come as he -had done, to have forced himself upon us, to have invited us to go out -with him, to have----and then I stopped, and a great lump rose in my -throat, and I burst into tears, for in my heart of hearts I knew well -that I did not think what he did intolerable at all, that I respected -him, and--but I did not dare to allow my thoughts to go any further. - -I even hated myself for being good-looking, until I suddenly -remembered that I had the same features as my father had. He had -conquered in all the battles in which he had borne part through his -life. My face must be a good one if it was like his. I would try to -live up to the character which my face seemed to express, and I would -immediately endeavour to get things on a different footing. - -Accordingly, the next day at breakfast I studiously avoided Mr. -Randolph, and I equally studiously avoided Mr. Fanning. The -consequence was that, being as it were between two fires, I had a most -uncomfortable time, for Mr. Randolph showed me by certain glances -which he threw in my direction that he was most anxious to consult me -about something, and Mr. Fanning seemed to intercept these glances, -and to make his own most unpleasant comments about them; and if Mr. -Fanning intercepted them, so did Mrs. and Miss Armstrong. - -Miss Armstrong had now given up Mr. Randolph as almost hopeless with -regard to a flirtation, and was turning her attention in the -direction of Mr. Fanning. She talked Art _at_ Mr. Fanning assiduously -all during breakfast, and having learned by some accident that he was -a publisher, boldly demanded from him if he would not like her to -illustrate some of his books. In reply to this he gave a profound bow, -and told her, with a certain awkward jerk of his body, that he never -gave orders in advance, that he never gave orders on the score of -friendliness, that when it came to the relations between publisher and -artist he was brutal. - -"That's the word for it, Miss Armstrong," he said, "I am brutal when -it comes to a bargain. I try to make the very best I can for myself. I -never think of the artist at all. I want all the _£ s d_ to go into my -own pocket"--and here he slapped his waistcoat loudly, and uttered a -harsh laugh, which showed all his broken teeth in a most disagreeable -manner. Miss Armstrong and her mother seemed to think he was excellent -fun, and Mrs. Armstrong said, with a quick glance first at Mr. -Randolph and then at me, that it was refreshing to hear any man so -frank, and that for her part she respected people who gave themselves -no h'airs. - -Breakfast came to an end, and I sought Jane in her sanctum. - -"Now, Jane," I said, "you must put away your accounts, you must cease -to think of housekeeping. You must listen to me." - -"What is it, Westenra?" she said. "Has anything vexed you?" she -continued; "sit down and tell me all about it." - -"Several things vex me," I answered. "Jane, we must come to an -understanding." - -"What about?" she asked in some alarm; "an understanding! I thought -that was all arranged when our legal agreement was drawn up." - -"Oh, I know nothing about lawyers nor about legal agreements," I -answered; "but, Jane, there are some things I cannot put up with, and -one of them is----" - -"I know," she answered; "Mr. Fanning." - -"He is horrible, hateful; he is going to make himself most hateful to -me. Jane, dear Jane, he must go." - -Jane looked puzzled and distressed. I expected her to say-- - -"He shall certainly go, my dear, I will tell him that his room is -required, and that he must leave at the end of the week." But on the -contrary she sighed. After a long pause she said-- - -"You want this house to be a success, I presume." - -"I certainly do, but we cannot have it a success on the present -arrangement. Mr. Fanning must go, and also Mr. Randolph." - -"Mr. Randolph, Mr. James Randolph!" said Jane, now colouring high, and -a sparkle of something, which seemed to be a curious mixture of fear -and indignation, filling her eyes. "And why should he go? You do not -know what you are talking about." - -"I do. He must go. Ask--ask Mrs. Furlong. They talk about him here, -these hateful people; they put false constructions on his kindness; I -know he is kind and he is a gentleman, but he does me harm, Jane, even -as much harm as that horrible Mr. Fanning." - -"Now, look here, Westenra Wickham," said Jane Mullins. "Are you going -to throw up the sponge, or are you not?" - -"Throw up the sponge! I certainly don't mean to fail." - -"You will do so if you send those two men out of the house. If you -cannot hold your own, whatever men come here, you are not the girl I -took you for. As to Mr. Randolph, be quite assured that he will never -do anything to annoy you. If people talk let them talk. When they see -nothing comes of their idle silly gossip, they will soon cease to -utter it. And as to Mr. Fanning, they will equally cease to worry -about him. If he pays he must stay, for as it is, it is difficult to -let the first-floor rooms. People don't want to pay five guineas a -week to live in Bloomsbury, and he has a small room; and it is a great -relief to me that he should be here and pay so good a sum for his -room. The thing must be met commercially, or I for one give it up." - -"You, Jane, you! then indeed we shall be ruined." - -"I don't really mean to, my dear child, I don't mean for a single -moment to desert you; but I must say that if 17 Graham Square is to go -on, it must go on commercial principles; and we cannot send our best -boarders away. You ask me coolly, just because things are a little -uncomfortable for you, you ask me to dismiss ten guineas a week, for -Mr. Randolph pays five guineas for his room, and Mr. Fanning five -guineas for his, and I don't know any other gentleman who would pay an -equal sum, and we must have it to balance matters. What is to meet the -rent, my dear? What is to meet the taxes? What is to meet the -butcher's, the baker's, the grocer's, the fishmonger's bills if we -dismissed our tenants. I often have a terrible fear that we were rash -to take a great expensive house like this, and unless it is full from -attic to drawing-room floor, we have not the slightest chance of -meeting our expenses. Even then I fear!--but there I won't croak -before the time; only, Westenra, you have to make up your mind. You -can go away on a visit if you wish to, I do not counsel this for a -moment, for I know you are a great attraction here. It is because you -are pretty and wear nice dresses, and look different from the other -boarders, that you attract them; and--yes, I will say it--Mr. Randolph -also attracts them. They can get no small change out of Mr. James -Randolph, so they need not try it on, but once for all we cannot -decline the people who are willing to pay us good money, that is a -foregone conclusion. Now you have got to accept the agreeables with -the disagreeables, or this whole great scheme of yours will tumble -about our heads like a pack of cards." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE UGLY DRESS - - -On that very day I searched through mother's wardrobe and found a -piece of brown barége. It was a harsh and by no means pretty material. -I held it up to the light, and asked her what she was going to do with -it. - -"Nothing," she answered, "I bought it ten years ago at a sale of -remnants, and why it has stuck to me all these years is more than I -can tell." - -"May I have it?" was my next query. - -"Certainly," replied mother, "but you surely are not going to have a -dress made of that ugly thing?" - -"May I have it?" I asked again. - -"Yes, dear, yes." - -I did not say any more with regard to the barége. I turned the -conversation to indifferent matters, but when I left the room I took -it with me. I made it into a parcel and took it out. I went to a -little dressmaker in a street near by. I asked her if she would make -the ugly brown barége into an evening dress. She measured the -material, and said it was somewhat scanty. - -"That does not matter," I said, "I _want_ an ugly dress--can you -manage to make a really ugly dress for me out of it?" - -"Well, Miss Wickham," she replied, fixing her pale brown eyes on my -face, "I never do go in for making ugly dresses, it would be against -my profession. You don't mean it, do you, Miss Wickham?" - -"Put your best work into it," I said, suddenly changing my tone. "Make -it according to your own ideas of the fashion. Picture a young girl -going to a play, or a ball, in that dress, and make it according to -your own ideas." - -"May I trim it with golden yellow chiffon and turquoise blue silk -bows?" she asked eagerly, her eyes shining. - -"You may," I replied, suppressing an internal shudder. I gave her a -few further directions; she named a day when I should come to be -fitted, and I went home. - -In less than a week's time the brown barége arrived back, ready for me -to wear. It was made according to Annie Starr's ideas of a fashionable -evening gown. It was the sort of garment which would have sent the -Duchess or Lady Thesiger into fits on the spot. In the first place, -the bodice was full of wrinkles, it was too wide in the waist, and too -narrow across the chest, but this was a small matter to complain of. -It was the irritating air of vulgarity all over the dress which was so -hard to bear. But, notwithstanding all these defects, it pleased me. -It would, I hoped, answer my purpose, and succeed in making me appear -very unattractive in the eyes of Mr. Randolph. - -That evening I put on the brown barége for dinner. The yellow chiffon -and the turquoise blue bows were much in evidence, and I did really -feel that I was a martyr when I went downstairs in that dress with its -_outré_ trimmings. - -When I entered the drawing-room, mother glanced up at me as if she did -not know me; she then started, the colour came into her face, and she -motioned me imperatively to her side. - -"Go upstairs at once and take that off," she said. - -"Oh no, mother," I answered, "there is no time now, besides I--I chose -it, I admire it." - -"Take it off immediately, Westenra." - -"But it is your dear barége that you have kept for ten years," I said, -trying to be playful; "I must wear it, at least to-night." - -I knew that I had never looked worse, and I quite gloried in the fact. -I saw Mr. Randolph from his seat near mother glance at me several -times in a puzzled way, and Mr. Fanning, after one or two astonished -glances, during which he took in the _tout ensemble_ of the ugly robe, -began to enter into a playful bear-like flirtation with Miss -Armstrong. Dear brown barége, what service it was doing me! I secretly -determined that it should be my dinner dress every evening until it -wore itself to rags. When the turquoise blue bows became too shabby, -I might substitute them for magenta ones. I felt that I had suddenly -found an opening out of my difficulty. If I ceased to appear -attractive, Mr. Randolph and Mr. Fanning would cease to worry me, the -rest of the boarders would accept me for what I was, and my Gordian -knot would be cut. Little did I guess! It was by no means so easy to -carry out my fixed determination as I had hoped. In the first place, -poor darling mother nearly fretted herself into an illness on account -of my evening dress. She absolutely cried when she saw me in it, and -said that if I was determined to deteriorate in that way, she would -give up the boarding-house and go to the cottage in the country -without a moment's hesitation. After wearing the dress for three or -four days I was forced, very much against my will, to put on one of my -pretty black dresses, and the barége made by Annie Starr resumed its -place in my wardrobe. I determined to wear it now and then, -however--it had already done me good service. I began to hope that -neither Mr. Randolph nor Mr. Fanning thought me worth looking at when -I appeared in it. - -On this evening, as I was dressing for dinner, I heard a wonderful -bumping going on in the stairs. It was the noise made by very heavy -trunks, trunks so large that they seemed scarcely able to be brought -upstairs. They were arriving at the attics, too--they were entering -the attic next to mine. Now that special attic had up to the present -remained untenanted. It was the most disagreeable room in the house. -Most of the attics were quite excellent, but this room had a decidedly -sloping roof, and rather small windows, and the paper on the walls was -ugly, and the accommodation scanty, and what those huge boxes were -going to do there was more than I could tell. The boxes, however, -entered that special attic, and then a bodily presence followed them -briskly, a loud hearty voice was heard to speak. It said in cheerful -tones-- - -"Thank you, that will do nicely. A large can of hot water, please, and -a couple more candles. Thanks. What hour did you say the company -dined?" - -The reply was made in a low tone which I could not catch, and the -attic door was shut. - -I was down in the drawing-room in my black dress--(how comfortable I -felt in it, how hateful that brown barége was, after all)--when the -door was opened, and a large, stoutly-made woman, most richly dressed, -came in. She had a quantity of grizzly grey hair, which was turned -back from her expansive forehead; a cap of almost every colour in the -rainbow bedizened her head, she wore diamond pendants in her ears, and -had a flashing diamond brooch fastening the front of her dress. Her -complexion was high, she had a broad mouth and a constant smile. She -walked straight up to Jane Mullins. - -"Well," she said, "here I am. I have not unpacked my big trunk, as -your servant said there was very little time before dinner. Please can -you tell me when Albert will be in?" - -"Mr. Fanning generally comes home about now," I heard Jane say. "Mrs. -Fanning, may I introduce you to my dear young friend, Miss -Wickham--Mrs. Wickham has not yet appeared." - -To my horror I saw Miss Mullins advancing across the drawing-room, -accompanied by the stout woman; they approached to my side. - -"May I introduce Mrs. Fanning," said Miss Mullins--"Mr. Fanning's -mother." - -"The mother of dear, godly Albert," said the stout lady. "I am proud -to say I am the mother of one of the best of sons. I am right pleased -to meet you, Miss Wickham. I may as well say at once that Albert -Fanning, my dear and only son, has mentioned your name to me, and with -an approval which would make your young cheeks blush. Yes, I am the -last person to encourage vanity in the young, but I must repeat that -if you knew all that Albert has said, you would feel that flutter of -the heart which only joy brings forth. Now, shall we both sit in a -cosy corner and enjoy ourselves, and talk about Albert until dinner is -ready?" - -This treat was certainly not likely to cause my young cheeks to blush. -On the contrary, I felt myself turning pale, and I looked round with a -desperate intention of flying to Jane for protection, when the stout -lady took one of my hands. - -"Ah," she said, "quite up to date, a slim young hand, and a slim young -figure, and a slim young face, too, for that matter. All that Albert -says is true, you are a _very_ nice-looking girl. I should not say -that you had much durance in you, that remains to be proved. But come, -here's a cosy corner, I have a great deal to say." - -That hand of Mrs. Fanning's had a wonderfully clinging effect; it -seemed to encircle my fingers something like an octopus, and she -pulled me gently towards the corner she had in view, and presently had -pinned me there, seating herself well in front of me, so that there -was no possible escape. - -The rest of the boarders now entered the drawing-room. Mother amongst -others made her appearance; she went to her accustomed corner, glanced -at me, saw that I was in one of my black dresses, nodded approval, -concluding in her dear mind that I had probably met some old friend in -the extraordinary person who was shutting me into the corner, and took -no further notice. - -Captain and Mrs. Furlong were well pleased to see that I was only -talking to a woman, it did not matter at all to them who that woman -was. And as to me I sat perfectly silent while Mrs. Fanning discoursed -on Albert. She never for a single moment, I will say for her, turned -the conversation into another channel. Albert was her theme, and she -stuck to him with the pertinacity which would have done any leader of -a debate credit. The debate was Albert. She intended before dinner was -announced to give me a true insight into that remarkable man's most -remarkable character. - -"Yes," she said, "what Albert thinks is always to the point. Since a -child he never gave me what you would call a real heartache. -Determined, self-willed he is; you look, the next time you see him, at -his chin, you observe the cleft in the middle; there never was a chin -like that yet without a mind according--a mind, so to speak, set on -the duty ahead of it--a mind that is determined to conquer. That is -Albert, that is my only, godly son. You observe, when you have an -opportunity, Albert's eyes. Did you ever see anything more open than -the way they look at you? He don't mind whether it hurts your feelings -or not; if he wants to look at you, look he will." - -When she said this I nodded my head emphatically, for I had found this -most disagreeable trait in Albert's eyes from the first moment I had -been unfortunate enough to make his acquaintance. But Mrs. Fanning -took my nod in high good humour. - -"Ah, you have observed it," she said, "and no wonder, no wonder. Now, -when you get an opportunity, do pull him to pieces, feature by -feature; notice his brow, how lofty it is; there's talent there, and -t'aint what you would call a fly-away talent, such as those art -talents that make me quite sick. He has no talent, thank Heaven, for -painting or for poetry, or for any fal-lal of that kind, his talent -lies in a sound business direction. Oh, he has made me roar, the way -he talks of young authors and young artists, how they come to him with -their wares, and how he beats them down. It's in Albert's brow where -his talent for business lies. You mark his nose too, it's somewhat -long and a little pointed, but it's the nose of a man who will make -his mark; yes, he'll make his mark some day, and I have told him so -over and over." - -Having gone through all Albert's features, she next proceeded to -describe Albert's character, and then went on to Albert's future. From -this it was an easy step to Albert's wife, and Albert's wife took up a -great deal of the good woman's attention. - -"It is because I am thinking he'll soon be falling into the snares of -matrimony that I have come to stay at 17 Graham Square," continued -Mrs. Fanning. "And it's because I want my dear and godly son to get a -wife who will be on the pattern of Solomon's virtuous woman that I -have given up my home and broken up my establishment and come here. -Now, Miss Wickham, my dear young lady, did you or did you not hear the -noise of my boxes being brought upstairs?" - -"I certainly did," I replied. - -"Then you happen to occupy the bedroom next to mine?" - -"I do," I said. - -"That is very nice indeed, for often of an evening we will keep each -other company and discourse on Albert, to the joy of both our hearts. -The boxes are receptacles for my household gods, dear, those dear -mementoes of the past, that I could not quite part with. Don't suppose -for a moment that they are full of dresses, for although my taste is -light and festive, Albert likes gay colours, he says they remind him -of the sales of remnants in the autumn. Dear fellow, it was the most -poetical thing he ever uttered, but he has said it once or twice. I -can show you my household treasures when you feel disposed to have an -evening's real recreation. The burden of this house, and with so -delicate a mother as your good Ma, must be heavy upon a young lass -like you, but Albert tells me--but there! I won't say any more just -now, for you'll blush, and I don't want you to blush, and I don't want -to encourage those hopes that may never be realised. I may as well -whisper, though, that Albert is looking out for a wife who will be a -pattern of Solomon's virtuous woman, and when he finds her, why she'll -be lucky, that's all I can say." - -Just then the pretty silver gong sounded, and people began to stand up -preparatory to going down to dinner. It was difficult even then to -move Mrs. Fanning, and for a wild moment I had a fear that I might be -imprisoned behind her in the drawing-room all during dinner, while she -still discoursed upon Albert and his attractions. Miss Mullins, -however, came to the rescue. - -"Come, Miss Wickham," she cried, "we must lead the way," and -accordingly Jane, my mother, and I went down first, and the different -boarders followed us. - -To my infinite distress Mrs. Fanning, being a complete stranger, had -her seat next mine. I had one comfort, however, she was better than -Albert; and Albert, who arrived presently himself, found that he was -seated next Miss Armstrong. He nodded across at his mother. - -"How do, old lady," he said, "glad to find you cosily established; -everything all right, eh?" - -"Yes, Albert, my son," replied the good woman, "everything is all -right, and I have been having a long conversation about you with my -interesting young friend here, Miss Westenra Wickham. By-the-by, dear, -would you kindly tell me how you got that outlandish name, I never -heard it before, and I do not believe it belongs to the Christian -religion." - -"I did not know there was anything heathenish about it," I could not -help answering; "it happens to be my name, and I was fully baptized by -it." - -"I will see presently whether I can take to it," responded the old -lady. "Soup? Yes, please. I will trouble you, my good girl, for -(turning to the maid) a table-spoon; I never take soup with a dessert -spoon. Thanks; that's better." - -Mrs. Fanning now gave me a few moments peace, and I found, to my great -satisfaction, that she had an excellent appetite, and was also -extremely critical with regard to her food. I introduced her to her -next door neighbour, who happened to be a fat little woman, something -like herself in build. They were both gourmands, and criticised -adversely the meal to their mutual pleasure. Thus I had time to look -around me, and to consider this new aspect of affairs. Things were -scarcely likely to be more comfortable if Albert had now got his -mother to plead his cause with me. He glanced at me several times -during the meal, and once even favoured me with a broad wink--he was -really intolerable. - -Meanwhile Miss Armstrong was all blushes and smirks. I heard her -suggest to Mr. Fanning that she should go the next day to see him, and -bring some of her drawings with her, and I heard him tell her in what -he was pleased to call his brutal manner that he would not be at home, -and if he were and she came would certainly not see her. This seemed -to be considered a tremendous joke by Miss Armstrong, and her mother -also joined in it, and gave Mr. Fanning a dig in the ribs, and told -him that he was the soul of wit, and had the true spirit of heart. - -Meanwhile, Mr. Randolph, my mother, Captain and Mrs. Furlong, and the -more refined portion of the establishment enjoyed themselves at the -other end of the table. I saw Mr. Randolph glance down in my direction -once or twice, and I am sure, although he was not able to judge of the -difference, the fact of seeing me once more in my properly made black -evening dress relieved his mind, for he looked quite contented, and -turned in a cheerful manner to my mother, and when dinner was over, -and we returned to the drawing-room, I was lucky enough to be able to -escape Mrs. Fanning and to go up to the other end of the room, where I -seated myself close to mother, took hold of her hand, leant against -her chair, and indulged in the luxury of talking to Mr. Randolph. He -was in a very good humour, and suggested that we should make a party -on the following evening to another play, which was then very much in -vogue. - -"But not in the chocolate-coloured brougham with the pair of horses," -I said. - -"We will have a cab from the nearest stand, if you prefer it," was his -instant response. - -"I should much," I answered. - -"And we will not dine at the Cecil," he continued; "we can have a sort -of high tea here before we start." - -"That I should also like infinitely better," I answered. - -"It shall be as you please," was his response. Then he began to tell -us something of the play which we were about to see, and I forgot all -about my discomforts, and enjoyed myself well. - -I was putting things in order in the drawing-room that night, for this -was always one of my special duties, when Mr. Fanning, who had left -the room a long time ago, came back. He came up to me holding his -lighted candle in his hand. I started when I saw him. - -"Good night," I said coldly. - -"Pray don't go for a moment," he said. "I have come back here on the -express chance of seeing you." - -"I cannot wait now, Mr. Fanning," I replied. - -"But I really must have an interview with you, it is of the highest -importance,--when can I see you alone? When can you give me an hour of -your time quite undisturbed?" - -"Never," I answered brusquely. - -"Now you will forgive me for saying that that is pure nonsense. If you -will not promise me an hour of your own free will I shall take the -present opportunity of speaking to you." - -"But I shall not stay," I answered with spirit, "and you cannot keep -me here against my will. Mr. Fanning, I also will take the present -opportunity of telling you that you and I have nothing in common, that -I dislike your singling me out for special conversations of any kind, -and that I hope in the future you will clearly understand that I do -not wish you to do so." - -"Oh, that is all very fine," he said, "but come now; what have I done -to make myself obnoxious? There is the old lady upstairs, she has -taken no end of a fancy to you, she says you are the most charming and -the prettiest girl she has ever seen, and what have you to say against -my mother? Let me tell you that she has come to this house on purpose -to make your acquaintance." - -"I have nothing whatever to say against your mother, Mr. Fanning, but -I object to the subject of conversation which she chooses to occupy -her time with while talking to me. I am not in the least interested in -you, and I wish you and your mother clearly to understand this fact as -quickly as possible." - -I do not think it was in the nature of Mr. Fanning ever to look -crestfallen, or my present speech might have made him do so. He did -not even change colour, but he looked at me out of those eyes which -his mother had so vividly described, and after a moment said softly-- - -"There will come a day when you will regret this. An honest heart is -offered to you and you trample it in the dust, but there will come a -day when you will be sorry. How do you think this establishment is -working?" - -I was so astonished and relieved at his change of conversation that I -said-- - -"It seems to be going very well, don't you think so?" - -"It is going well for my purpose," he replied, and then he added, "it -is working itself out in a way that will only spell one word--RUIN. -Now you ponder on that. Take it as your night-cap, and see what sort -of sleep you'll have, and when next I ask for a few moments' -conversation perhaps you'll not say no. I will not keep you any longer -for the present." - -He left the room, I heard his footsteps dying down the corridor, and -the next instant he had slammed his bedroom door. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -ANXIETY - - -After he had left me, and I was quite certain that I should not see -him again that night, I went straight to Jane Mullins' room. Jane was -generally up the last in the house, and I had not the slightest doubt -I should still find her in her dinner dress, and ready for -conversation. I had bidden mother good night long ago, and hoped she -was sound asleep, but I did not mind disturbing Jane. I opened the -door now and went in. As I expected, Jane was up; she was seated by -the fire, she was looking into its depths, and did not turn round at -once when I entered. The first thing she did when she became aware of -the fact that there was some one else in the room besides herself, was -to sigh somewhat deeply. Then she said in a low voice-- - -"What if it all turns out a mistake?" and then she jumped to her feet -and confronted me. "Yes, dear, yes," she said. "Oh, my dear Westenra, -why aren't you in bed? It is very bad indeed for young people to be up -so late. You will get quite worn and wrinkled. Let me tell you, my -love, that we can never get youth back again, and we ought to prize it -while we have it. How old are you, Westenra, my love?" - -"I shall be twenty-two my next birthday," was my answer. - -"Ah, yes, yes, quite young, in the beautiful prime of youth. -Nevertheless, the bloom can be rubbed off, and then--well, it never -comes back, dear. But go to bed, Westenra, don't stay up bothering -your head. I see by that frown between your brows that you are going -to say something which I would rather not listen to. Don't tell me -to-night, Westenra, love." - -"I must tell you," I answered. "I have come to see you for the -purpose. You are old enough, Jane, to bear the little disagreeable -things I tell you now and then. You are our mainstay, our prop, in -this establishment. I cannot go on without confiding in you, and you -must listen to me." - -"Well, child, sit down, here is a comfortable chair." Jane got up and -offered me her own chair. I did not take it. - -"What nonsense," I said, "sit down again. Here, this little hassock at -your feet will suit me far better." - -I seated myself as I spoke, and laid my hand across Jane's knee. - -"Now, that is cosy," I said. She touched my arm as though she loved to -touch it, and then she laid her firm, weather-beaten hand on my -shoulder, and then, as if impelled by an unwonted impulse, she bent -forward and kissed me on my cheek. - -"You are a very nice girl. Since I knew you life has been far -pleasanter to me," said Jane Mullins. "I thank you for giving me a bit -of love. Whatever happens I want you to remember that." - -"I do," I answered; "you have very little idea how much I care for -you, Jane, and how immensely I respect you. There are, I think, very -few women who would have acted as you have done. I am fully convinced -there is a mystery in all your actions which has not yet been -explained to me, but I have not come here to-night to talk about that. -I have come here to ask you one or two questions, and to tell you one -or two things, and my first question is this--Why were you sighing -when I came in, and why did you murmur to yourself, 'What if it all -turns out a mistake?' Will you explain those words, Jane." - -"No," replied Jane stoutly, "for you were eavesdropping when you heard -them, and there is no reason why I should explain what you had no -right to listen to." - -"Thank you; you have answered me very sensibly, and I won't say -another word on the subject of your sigh and your remarkable speech. -But now to turn to the matter which has brought me to your room so -late in the evening." - -"Well, dear, it is past midnight, and you know how early I am up. It -is a little unreasonable of you; what has brought you, darling?" - -"Mr. Fanning has brought me." - -"Oh dear, oh dear, that tiresome man again," said Miss Mullins. - -"You don't like him yourself, do you, Jane?" - -"It is a great pity he is not different," said Jane, "for he is -extremely well off." - -"O Jane! pray don't talk nonsense. Do you suppose that a person with -the name of Fanning could have any interest whatever for me? Now, -please, get that silly idea out of your head once for all." - -"Oh, as far as any use that there is in it, I have long ago got it out -of my head," replied Jane; "but the thing to be considered is this, -that he has not got it out of his head--nor has his mother--and that -between them they can make things intensely disagreeable. Now, if Mr. -Randolph was going to stay here, I should not have an anxious moment." - -"What do you mean?" I cried; "is Mr. Randolph going away?" A deep -depression seemed suddenly to come over me; I could not quite account -for it. - -"He is, dear; and it is because he must be absent for two or three -months that I am really anxious. He will come back again; but sudden -and important news obliges him to go to Australia. He is going in a -fortnight, and it is that that frets him. You will be left to the -tender mercies of Mr. Fanning and Mrs. Fanning, and you have got so -much spirit you are sure to offend them both mortally, and then they -will leave, and--oh dear, I do think that things are dark. My dear -Westenra, I often wonder if we shall pull through after all." - -"That is what I want to speak to you about," I answered. "Mr. Fanning -came into the drawing-room just now, and was very rude and very unlike -a gentleman. I was alone there, and he said he had something to say to -me in private, and, of course, I refused to listen. He wanted to -insist on my granting him an interview, and said that he could compel -me to listen if he chose. Think of any gentleman speaking like that!" - -"They don't mind what they say, nor what they do, when they're in -love," muttered Jane. - -"I won't allow you to say that," I answered, springing to my feet; -"the man is intolerable. Jane, he must go; there is no help for it." - -"He must stay, dear, and I cannot disclose all my reasons now." - -I stood clasping and unclasping my hands, and staring at Jane. - -"You knew beforehand, did you not, Westenra, that there would be -disagreeables connected with this scheme?" - -"Of course I knew it; but I never did think that the disagreeables -would resolve themselves into Mr. Fanning." - -"We never know beforehand where the shoe is going to pinch," remarked -Jane in a sententious voice. - -"Well, I have something else to say," I continued. "Mr. Fanning was -not only very unpleasant to me, but he told me something which I can -scarcely believe. He said that our boarding-house, which seemed to be -going so well, was not going well at all. He said there was only one -word to spell how it was going, and that word was RUIN. O Jane! it -can't be true?" - -"Let us hope not," said Jane, but she turned very white. "I will tell -you one thing, Westenra," she continued. "If you don't want to have -utter ruin you must go on behaving as nicely as ever you can, bearing -with every one, being gentle and considerate, and trying to make every -one happy. And in especial, you must bear with Mr. Fanning and with -Mrs. Fanning; you must be particularly civil to them both, for if they -go others will go; and whatever happens, Westenra, remember your -mother is not to be worried. I know what I am saying, your mother is -not to be worried. Your mother must never guess that things are not as -right as they should be. When Mr. Randolph comes back everything will -be right, but during his absence we will have to go through rather a -tight place; and Albert Fanning is the sort of person who might take -advantage of us, and what you must do, my dear girl, is to be -guileful." - -"Guileful!" I cried; "never." - -"But you must, my love, you must be guileful and wary; you need not -give him a single straw to go upon, but at the same time you must be -civil. There now, that is all I can tell you for the present. Go to -bed, child, for I have to do the daily accounts, and must be up at six -in the morning. It's that new cook, she frets me more than I can say, -she don't do things proper; and I noticed that Mrs. Fanning sniffed at -her soup instead of eating it this evening, and the turbot was not as -fresh as it ought to be. Go to bed, Westenra, go to bed." - -I left the room. There was no use in staying any longer with Jane. She -certainly had not reassured me. She seemed puzzled and anxious about -the establishment; and why were not things going well? And what had -Mr. Fanning to do with it; and why, why was Mr. Randolph going away? - -The next morning after breakfast I went into the drawing-room for my -usual task of dusting and arranging the furniture and refilling the -vases with fresh flowers, when Mr. Randolph suddenly came in. - -"It will be best for you and Mrs. Wickham to meet me at the Criterion -to-night," he said. "As you won't give me the opportunity of offering -you dinner at the Cecil, that seems the next best thing to do. I have -got a box in a good part of the house, so we need not be there more -than a few minutes before it commences. I shall meet you at the -entrance and conduct you to your seats." - -His manner showed some excitement, quite out of keeping with his -ordinary demeanour, and I noticed that he scarcely glanced at me. His -face was somewhat worn, too, in expression, and although he generally -had himself in complete control, he now looked nearly as anxious and -worried as Jane herself. He scarcely waited for my compliance with the -arrangement he had proposed, but glancing at the door, spoke -abruptly-- - -"Something unexpected and very grievous has occurred, and I am obliged -to leave England by the _Smyrna_, which sails on Saturday week." - -"Miss Mullins told me last night that you were going away," I replied. -I also now avoided looking at him. I was playing with some large -sprays of mimosa which had been sent in from the market. To my dying -day I shall never forget how that mimosa seemed to slip about, and -would not get into the best position in the vase in which I was -placing it. - -"Effective," he said, as he watched my movements, "but it withers -quickly; it wants its native air." - -"I suppose so," I answered. - -"Have you ever seen it growing?" - -"No; I have never been to the South." - -"You have a good deal to see. I hope some day----" He broke off. - -"Where are you going when you do go away?" I asked. - -"To Sydney first, perhaps to Melbourne." - -"It will be nice for you to leave England during our unpleasant winter -weather." - -"There is nothing nice about my visit," he said; "I dislike going more -than I have any words to express. In particular, I am sorry to leave -your mother; but before I go I want"--he dropped his voice and came a -step nearer. - -"What?" I asked. - -"I am anxious that your mother should see a doctor--a specialist, I -mean. I am not satisfied with her condition." - -"But mother is really quite well," I said impulsively. "You have not -known her long, Mr. Randolph; she never was really strong. She is -quite as well as she ever was." - -"A specialist could assure us on that point, could he not?" was his -reply. "I want Dr. Reade to give me a diagnosis of her case." - -"Dr. Reade," I cried. - -"Yes; I should like her to see him between now and the day when I must -leave England. I cannot possibly be back under from four to five -months, and if my mind can be relieved of a very pressing anxiety, you -would not deny me the satisfaction, would you?" - -"But why should your mind be anxious?" I asked boldly. I looked full -into his face as I spoke, and then I met a look which caused me to -turn faint, and yet to feel happy, as I had never felt happy before. -I lowered my eyes and looked out of the window. He gave a quick sigh, -and then said suddenly-- - -"How like your father you are." - -"My father? But you never knew him." - -"I never knew him, but I have often looked at his picture. Can you -tell me how he won his V.C.?" - -"Saving a comrade, bringing one of his brother officers out of the -thick of the fight; he received his own fatal wound in doing so. He -did not survive the action two months." - -"A fine fellow! A splendid action," said Mr. Randolph, enthusiasm in -his voice. "You will think over what I have said, and I will not keep -you now. We shall meet at the Criterion this evening. Good-bye for the -present." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -DR. READE - - -I cannot recall anything about the play. I only know that we had -excellent seats and a good view of the house, and that mother seemed -to enjoy everything. As to Mr. Randolph, I doubt if he did enjoy that -play. He was too much a man of the world to show any of his emotions, -but I saw by a certain pallor round his mouth, and a rather dragged -look about his eyes, that he was suffering, and I could not imagine -why. I had always in my own mind made up a sort of story about Jim -Randolph. He was one of the fortunate people of the earth; the good -things of the world had fallen abundantly to his share. He was nice to -look at and pleasant to talk to, and of course he had plenty of money. -He could do what he pleased with his life. I had never associated him -with sorrow or trial of any sort, and to see that look now in his eyes -and round the corners of his somewhat sensitive and yet -beautifully-cut mouth, gave me a new sensation with regard to him. The -interest I felt in him immediately became accelerated tenfold. I found -myself thinking of him instead of the play. I found myself anxious to -watch his face. I even found, when once our eyes met (his grave and -dark, mine, I daresay, bold enough and determined enough), that my -heart beat fast, and the colour flew into my face; then, strange to -say, the colour came into his face, dying his swarthy cheek just for a -moment, but leaving it the next paler than ever. He came a little -nearer to me, however, and bending forward so that mother should not -hear, said in a semi-whisper-- - -"You have thought about what I said this morning?" - -"I have thought it over a good deal," I replied. - -"You think it can be managed?" - -"Dr. Anderson, mother's family physician, would do what you require, -Mr. Randolph." - -"That is a good idea," he said. "Anderson can arrange a consultation. -I will see him to-morrow, and suggest it." - -I did not say any more, for just then mother turned and said something -to Mr. Randolph, and Mr. Randolph bent forward and talked to mother in -that worshipping son-like way with which he generally addressed her. -If mother had ever been blessed with a son, he could not have been -more attentive nor sweeter than Jim Randolph was, and I found myself -liking him more than ever, just because he was so good to mother, and -my heart ached at the prospect of his enforced and long absence. So -much did this thought worry me, that I could not help saying to him -as we were leaving the theatre-- - -"I am very sorry that you are going." - -"Is that true?" he said. His face lit up, his eyes sparkled; all the -tired expression left his eyes and mouth. - -"Are you saying what you mean?" he asked. - -"I am most truly sorry. You have become indispensable to mother; she -will miss you sorely." - -"And you--will you miss me?" - -I tried to say "For mother's sake I will," but I did not utter the -words. Mr. Randolph gave me a quick glance. - -"I have not told your mother yet that I am going," he said. - -"I wondered if you had," I replied. "I thought of telling her myself -to-day." - -"Do not say anything until nearer the time," was his somewhat guarded -response. "Ah! here comes the carriage." - -"So you did order the carriage after all," I said, seeing that the -same neat brougham which he had used on the last occasion stopped the -way. - -"You never forbade me to see you both home in the carriage," he said -with a laugh. "Now then, Mrs. Wickham." - -Mother had been standing a little back out of the crowd. He went to -her, gave her his arm, and she stepped into the carriage, just as if -it belonged to her. Mother had always that way with Mr. Randolph's -possessions, and sometimes her manner towards him almost annoyed me. -What could it mean. Did she know something about him which I had never -heard of nor guessed? - -The next day about noon Mr. Randolph entered Jane's sitting-room, -where I often spent the mornings. - -"I have just come from Anderson's," he said. "He will make an -appointment with Dr. Reade to see your mother to-morrow." - -"But on what plea?" I asked. "Mother is somewhat nervous. I am sure it -would not be at all good for her to think that her indisposition was -so great that two doctors must see her." - -"Anderson will arrange that," replied Mr. Randolph. "He has told your -mother once or twice lately that he thinks her very weak, and would -like her to try a new system of diet. Now Reade is a great specialist -for diseases of the digestion. Both doctors will guard against any -possible shock to your mother." - -"Well," I said somewhat petulantly, "I cannot imagine why you are -nervous about her. She is quite as well as she ever was." - -He looked at me as if he meant to say something more, and I felt -certain that he strangled a sigh which never came to the surface. The -next moment he left the room, I looked round me in a state of -bewilderment. - -In Jane's room was a bookcase, and the bookcase contained a -heterogeneous mass of books of all sorts. Amongst others was a medical -directory. I took it up now, and scarcely knowing why I did so, turned -to the name of Reade. Dr. Reade's name was entered in the following -way:-- - -"Reade, Henry, M.D., F.R.C.P., consulting physician to the Brompton -Hospital for Consumption, London, and to the Royal Hospital for -Diseases of the Chest, Ventnor." - -I read these qualifications over slowly, and put the book back in its -place. There was nothing whatever said of Dr. Reade's qualifications -for treating that vast field of indigestion to which so many sufferers -were victims. I resolved to say something to Jane. - -"What is it?" said Jane, as she came into the room. "What is fretting -you now?" - -"Oh, nothing," I answered. "Dr. Reade must be a very clever -physician." - -"First-class, of course. I am so pleased your mother is going to see -him." - -"But I thought mother was suffering very much from weakness and want -of appetite." - -"So she is, poor dear, and I am inventing quite a new sort of soup, -which is partly digested beforehand, that I think she will fancy." - -"But I have been looking up Dr. Reade's name. He seems to be a great -doctor for consumption and other diseases of the chest. There is no -allusion to his extraordinary powers of treating people for -indigestion." - -"Well, my dear, consumptives suffer more than most folks from -indigestion. Now, don't you worry your head; never meet troubles -half-way. I am extremely pleased that your mother is to see Dr. -Reade." - -On the following morning mother herself told me that Dr. Reade was -coming. - -"It is most unnecessary," she said, "and I told Dr. Anderson so. I was -only telling him yesterday that I thought his own visits need not be -quite so frequent. He is such a dear, kind man, that I do not like to -hurt his feelings; but really, Westenra, he charges me so little that -it quite goes to my heart. And now we have not our old income, this -very expensive consulting physician is not required. I told Dr. -Anderson so, but he has made up his mind. He says there is no use in -working in the dark, and that he believes I should be much stronger if -I ate more." - -Dr. Reade called in the course of the morning, and Dr. Anderson came -with him. They stayed in mother's room for some little time, and then -they both went out, and Jane Mullins had an interview with them first, -and then she sent for me. - -"Dr. Anderson wants to speak to you, Westenra," she said. She rushed -past me as she spoke, and I could not catch sight of her face, so I -went into her little sitting-room, where both the doctors were -waiting for me, and closed the door behind me. I was not at all -anxious. I quite believed that mother's ailment was simply want of -appetite and weakness, and I had never heard of any one dying just -from those causes. - -"Let me introduce you to Dr. Reade," said Dr. Anderson. - -I looked then towards the great consulting physician. He was standing -with his back to the light--he was a little man, younger looking than -Dr. Anderson. His hair was only beginning to turn grey, and was -falling away a trifle from his temples, and he was very upright, and -very thin, and had keen eyes, the keenest eyes I had ever looked at, -small, grey and bright, and those eyes seemed to look through you, as -though they were forcing a gimlet into the very secrets of your soul. -His face was so peculiar, so intellectual, so sharp and keen, and his -glance so vivid, that I became absorbed in looking at it, and forgot -for the moment Dr. Anderson. Then I glanced round and found that he -had vanished, and I was alone with Dr. Reade. - -"Won't you sit down, Miss Wickham?" he said kindly. - -I seated myself, and then seeing that his eyes were still on me, my -heart began to beat a little more quickly, and I began to feel -uncomfortable and anxious, and then I knew that I must brace myself -up to listen to something which would be hard to bear. - -"I was called in to-day," said Dr. Reade, "to see your mother. I have -examined her carefully--Dr. Anderson thinks that it may be best for -you Miss Wickham--you seem to be a very brave sort of girl--to know -the truth." - -"Yes, I should like to know the truth," I answered. - -I found these words coming out of my lips slowly, and I found I had -difficulty in saying them, and my eyes seemed not to see quite so -clearly as usual; and Dr. Reade's keen face seemed to vanish as if -behind a mist, but then the mist cleared off, and I remembered that I -was father's daughter and that it behoved me to act gallantly if -occasion should require, so I got up and went towards the little -doctor, and said in a quiet voice-- - -"You need not mind breaking it to me; I see by your face that you have -bad news, but I assure you I am not going to cry nor be hysterical. -Please tell me the truth quickly." - -"I knew you were a brave girl," he said with admiration, "and I have -bad news, your mother's case is----" - -"What?" I asked. - -"A matter of time," he replied gravely; "she may live for a few months -or a year--a year is the outside limit." - -"A few months or a year," I said. I repeated the words vaguely; and -then I turned my eyes towards the window and looked past it and out -into the Square. I saw a carriage drawn by a spirited pair of bays, it -passed within sight of the window, and I noticed a girl seated by -herself in the carriage. She had on a fashionable hat, and her hair -was arranged in a very pretty way, and she had laughing eyes. I was -attracted by her appearance, and I even said to myself in an uncertain -sort of fashion, "I believe I could copy that hat," but then I turned -away from the window and faced the doctor. - -"You are very brave," he repeated; "I did not think any girl would be -quite so brave." - -"My father was a brave man," I said then; "he won his Victoria Cross." - -"Ah," replied Dr. Reade, "women often do just as brave actions. Their -battles are silent, but none the less magnificent for that." - -"I always meant to get the Victoria Cross if I could," was my reply. - -"Well," he answered cheerfully, "I know now how to deal with things; I -am very glad that you are that sort. You know that Jim Randolph is a -friend of mine." - -It was on the tip of my tongue to say, Who is Jim Randolph? why should -he be a friend of everybody worth knowing? but I did not ask the -question. I put it aside and said gravely-- - -"The person I want to talk about is mother. In the first place, what -is the matter with her?" - -"A very acute form of heart disease. The aortic valve is affected. She -may not, and probably will not, suffer much; but at any moment, Miss -Wickham, at any moment, any shock may"--he raised his hand -emphatically. - -"You mean that any shock may kill her?" - -"That is what I mean." - -"Then she ought to be kept without anxiety?" - -"That is precisely what I intend." - -"And if this is done how long will her most precious life be -prolonged?" - -"As I have just said, a year is about the limit." - -"One year," I answered. "Does she know?" - -"No, she has not the slightest idea, nor do I want her to be told. She -is ready--would to God we were all as ready--why distress her -unnecessarily? She would be anxious about you if she thought she was -leaving you. It must be your province to give her no anxiety, to guard -her. That is an excellent woman, Miss Mullins, she will assist you in -every way. I am truly sorry that Jim Randolph has to leave England. -However, there is not the slightest doubt that he will hurry home, and -when he does come back, will be time sufficient to let your mother -know the truth." - -I did not answer. Dr. Reade looked at his watch. - -"I must be off," he said. "I can only spare one more moment. I have -made certain suggestions to my old friend Anderson, and he will -propose certain arrangements which may add to your mother's comfort. I -do not want her to go up and down stairs much, but at the same time -she must be entertained and kept cheerful. Be assured of one thing, -that in no case will she suffer. Now, I have told you all. If you -should be perplexed or in any difficulty come to me at once. Come to -me as your friend, and remember I am a very special friend of Jim -Randolph's. Now, good-bye." - -He left the room. - -I sat after he had gone for a moment without stirring; I was not -suffering exactly. We do not suffer most when the heavy blows fall, it -is afterwards that the terrible agony of pain comes on. Of course I -believed Dr. Reade--who could doubt him who looked into his face? I -guessed him to be what he was, one of the strongest, most faithful, -bravest men who ever lived--a man whose whole life was given up to the -alleviation of the suffering of others. He was always warding off -death, or doing all that man could do to ward it off, and in many many -cases death was afraid of him, and retired from his prey, vanquished -by that knowledge, that genius, that sympathy, that love for humanity, -which overflowed the little doctor's personality. - -Just then a hand touched me, and I turned and saw Jim Randolph. - -"You know?" he said. - -I nodded. Mr. Randolph looked at me very gravely. - -"My suspicions have been confirmed," he said; "I always guessed that -your mother's state of health was most precarious. I can scarcely -explain to you the intense pain I feel in leaving her now. A girl like -you ought to have some man at hand to help her, but I must go, there -is no help for it. It is a terrible trial to me. I know, Miss Wickham, -that you will guard your mother from all sorrows and anxieties, and so -cheer her passage from this world to the next. Her death may come -suddenly or gradually, there is just a possibility that she may know -when she is dying, and at such a time, to know also that you are -unprovided for, will give her great and terrible anxiety." Here he -looked at me as if he were anxious to say more, but he restrained -himself. "I cannot remove her anxiety, I must trust for the very best, -and you must wait and--and _trust me_. I will come back as soon as -ever I can." - -"But why do you go away?" I asked, "you have been kind--more than -kind--to her. O Mr. Randolph! do you think I have made a mistake, a -great mistake, in coming here?" - -"No," he said emphatically, "do not let that thought ever worry you, -you have done a singularly brave thing, you can little guess what -I--but there, I said I would not speak, not yet." He shut his lips, -and I noticed that drawn look round his eyes and mouth. - -"I must go and return as fast as I can," he said abruptly. "I set -myself a task, and I must carry it through to the bitter end. Only -unexpected calamity drives me from England just now." - -"You are keeping a secret from me," I said. - -"I am," he replied. - -"Won't you tell me--is it fair to keep me in the dark?" - -"It is perfectly fair." - -"Does Jane know?" - -"Certainly." - -"And she won't tell?" - -"No, she won't tell." - -"Does mother know?" - -"Yes, and no. She knows something but not all, by no means all." - -"It puzzles me more than I can describe," I continued. "Why do you -live in a place like this, why are you so interested in mother and in -me? Then, too, you are a special friend of the Duchess of Wilmot's, -who is also one of our oldest friends. You do not belong to the set of -people who live in boarding-houses. I wish, I do wish, you would be -open. It is unfair on me to keep me in the dark." - -"I will tell you when I return," he said, and his face was very white. -"Trust me until I return." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -GIVE ME YOUR PROMISE - - -That afternoon I went out late to do some commissions for Jane. I was -glad to be out and to be moving, for Dr. Reade's words kept ringing in -my ears, and by degrees they were beginning to hurt. I did not want -them to hurt badly until night, for nothing would induce me to break -down. I had talked to mother more cheerfully than ever that afternoon, -and made her laugh heartily, and put her into excellent spirits, and I -bought some lovely flowers for her while I was out, and a little -special dainty for her dinner. Oh, it would never do for mother to -guess that I was unhappy, but I could not have kept up with that -growing pain at my heart if it were not for the thought of night and -solitude, the long blessed hours when I might give way, when I might -let my grief, the first great grief of my life, overpower me. - -I was returning home, when suddenly, just before I entered the Square, -I came face to face with Mr. Randolph. He was hurrying as if to meet -me. When he saw me he slackened his steps and walked by my side. - -"This is very fortunate," he said. "I want to talk to you. Where can -we go?" - -"But it is nearly dinner-time," I answered. - -"That does not matter," he replied. "I have but a very few more days -in England. I have something I must say to you. Ah, here is the Square -garden open; we will go in." - -He seemed to take my assent for granted, and I did not at all mind -accompanying him. We went into the little garden in the middle of the -Square. In the midst of summer, or at most in early spring, it might -possibly have been a pleasant place, but now few words could explain -its dreariness. The damp leaves of late autumn were lying in sodden -masses on the paths. There was very little light too; once I slipped -and almost fell. My companion put out his hand and caught mine. He -steadied me and then dropped my hand. After a moment of silence he -spoke. - -"You asked me to-day not to go." - -"For mother's sake," I replied. - -"I want to tell you now that if I could stay I would; that it is very -great pain to me to go away. I think it is due to you that I should -give you some slight explanation. I am leaving England thus suddenly -because the friend who has helped Jane Mullins with a certain sum of -money, in order to enable her to start this boarding-house, has -suddenly heard that the capital, which he hoped was absolutely -secure, is in great danger of being lost. My friend has commissioned -me to see this matter through, for if his worst surmises are fulfilled -Miss Mullins, and you also, Miss Wickham, and of course your mother, -may find yourselves in an uncomfortable position. You remember -doubtless that Mr. Hardcastle would not let you the house if there had -not been some capital at the back of your proposal. Miss Mullins, who -had long wished for such an opportunity, was delighted to find that -she could join forces with you in the matter. Thus 17 Graham Square -was started on its present lines. Now there is a possibility that the -capital which Jane Mullins was to have as her share in this business -may not be forthcoming. It is in jeopardy, and I am going to Australia -in order to put things straight; I have every hope that I shall -succeed. You may rest assured that I shall remain away for as short a -time as possible. I know what grief you are in, but I hope to be back -in England soon." - -"Is that all you have to say to me?" I asked. - -"Not quite all. I am most anxious that while I am away, although you -are still kept in the dark, you should believe in me; I want you to -trust me and also my friend. Believe that his intentions are -honourable, are kind, are just, and that we are acting as we are doing -both for your sake and for your mother's and for Miss Mullins'. I know -that I ask quite a big thing, Miss Wickham; it is this--I ask you to -trust me in the dark." - -"It is a big thing and difficult," I replied. - -"Your mother does." - -"That is true, but mother would trust any one who had been as kind to -her as you have been." - -"Then will you trust me because your mother does? will you believe -that when I come back I shall be in a position to set all her fears -and yours also absolutely at rest? I am certain of this, I go away -with a hope which I dare not express more fully; I shall come back -trusting that that hope may be fulfilled in all its magnificence for -myself. I cannot say more at present. I long to, but I dare not. Will -you trust me? will you try to understand? Why, what is the matter?" - -He turned and looked at me abruptly. Quick sobs were coming from my -lips. I suddenly and unexpectedly lost my self-control. - -"I shall be all right in a minute," I said. "I have gone through much -to-day; it is--it is on account of mother. Don't--don't speak for a -moment." - -He did not, he stood near me. When I had recovered he said gently-- - -"Give me your promise. I wish I could say more, much, much more, but -will you trust me in the dark?" - -"I will," I replied. "I am sorry you are going. Thank you for being -kind to mother; come back when you can." - -"You may be certain on that point," he replied. "I leave England with -extreme unwillingness. Thank you for what you have promised." - -He held out his hand and I gave him mine. I felt my heart beat as my -hand lay for a moment in his, his fingers closed firmly over it, then -he slowly dropped it. We went back to the house. - -A few days afterwards Mr. Randolph went away. He went quite quietly, -without making the slightest commotion. He just entered the -drawing-room quickly one morning after breakfast, and shook hands with -mother and shook hands with me, and said that he would be back again -before either of us had missed him, and then went downstairs, and I -watched behind the curtain as his luggage was put on the roof of the -cab. I watched him get in. Jane Mullins was standing near. He shook -hands with her. He did not once glance up at our windows, the cab -rolled out of the Square and was lost to view. Then I turned round. -There were tears in mother's eyes. - -"He is the nicest fellow I have ever met," she said, "I am so very -sorry that he has gone." - -"Well, Mummy darling," I answered, "you are more my care than ever -now." - -"Oh, I am not thinking of myself," said mother. She looked up at me -rather uneasily. It seemed to me as if her eyes wanted to read me -through, and I felt that I did not want her to read me through; I did -not want any one to read what my feelings were that day. - -Jane Mullins came bustling up. - -"It is a lovely morning, and your mother must have a drive," she said. -"I have ordered a carriage. It will be round in half-an-hour. You and -she are to drive in the Park and be back in time for lunch, and see -here, Mrs. Wickham, I want you to taste this. I have made it from a -receipt in the new invalid cookery book. I think you will say that you -never tasted such soup before." - -"Oh, you quite spoil me, Jane," said mother, but she took the soup -which Jane had prepared so delicately for her, and I ran off, glad to -be by myself for a few moments. - -At dinner that day Mrs. Fanning and Mrs. Armstrong sat side by side. -Mrs. Fanning had taken a great fancy to Mrs. Armstrong, and they -usually during the meal sat with their heads bent towards one another, -talking eagerly, and often glancing in the direction of Albert Fanning -and Miss Armstrong and me. Mrs. Fanning had an emphatic way of bobbing -her head whenever she looked at me, and after giving me a steady -glance, her eyes involuntarily rolled round in the direction of Mr. -Fanning. - -I was so well aware of these glances that I now never pretended to see -them, but not one of them really escaped my notice. After dinner that -evening the good lady came up to my side. - -"Well, my dear, well," she said, "and how are you bearing up?" - -"Bearing up?" I answered, "I don't quite understand." - -Now of course no one in the boarding-house was supposed to know -anything whatever with regard to mother's health. The consultation of -the doctors had been so contrived that the principal boarders had been -out when it took place, therefore I knew that Mrs. Fanning was not -alluding to the doctors. She sat down near me. - -"Ah," she said, "I thought, and I told my dear son Albert, that a man -of that sort would not stay very long. You are bearing up, for you are -a plucky sort of girl, but you must be feeling it a good bit. I am -sorry for you, you have been a silly girl, casting your eyes at places -too high for you, and never seeing those good things which are laid so -to speak at your very feet. You are like all the rest of the world, -but if you think that my Albert will put up with other people's -leavings, you are finely mistaken." - -"Really, Mrs. Fanning," I answered, "I am completely at a loss to know -what you are talking about." - -Here I heard Mrs. Armstrong's hearty and coarse laugh in my ear. - -"Ha! ha!" said Mrs. Armstrong, "so she says she doesn't know. Well now -then, we won't allude any further to the subject. Of course it ain't -likely that she would give herself away. Few young ladies of the Miss -Westenra Wickham type do. Whatever else they don't hold with, they -hold on to their sinful pride, they quite forget that they are worms -of the dust, that their fall will come, and when it comes it's bitter, -that's what I say; that's what I have said to Marion, when Marion has -been a little put out, poor dear, with the marked and silly attentions -of one who never meant anything at all. It was only before dinner I -said to Marion, 'You wouldn't like to be in Miss Wickham's shoes -to-night, would you, Marion? You wouldn't like to be wearing the -willow, would you, my girl?' And she said no, she wouldn't, but then -she added, 'With my soul full of Art, mother, I always can have my -resources,' and that is where Marion believes, that if she were so -unlucky as to be crossed in love, she would have the advantage of you, -Miss Wickham, for you have plainly said that you have no soul for -h'Art." - -"All that talk of Art makes me downright sick," here interrupted Mrs. -Fanning. "That's where I admire you, Miss Wickham. You are very nice -to look at, and you have no nonsense about you, and it's my belief -that you never cared twopence about that high-falutin' young man, and -that now he has gone, you'll just know where your bread is buttered. -Sit along side of me, dear, and we will have a little discourse about -Albert, it's some time since we had a good round talk about my dear -and godly son." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -A DASH OF ONIONS - - -It was about a fortnight later that one afternoon, soon after lunch, -Mrs. Fanning came into the drawing-room. She was somewhat -short-sighted, and she stood in the middle of the room, looking round -her. After a time, to my great horror, she caught sight of me. If I -had a moment to spare, I should have got behind the curtain, in order -to avoid her, but I had not that moment; she discovered her prey, and -made for me as fast as an arrow from a bow. - -"Ah," she said, "here you are; I am going out driving in Albert's -brougham this afternoon. You didn't know, perhaps, that Albert had a -brougham of his own?" - -"I did not," I answered. - -"It is a recent acquisition of his; he is becoming a wealthy man is -Albert, and he started the brougham a short time ago. He had the body -painted red and the wheels dark brown--I was for having the wheels -yellow, because I like something distinct, but Albert said, 'No, _she_ -would rather have dark brown.' Who do you think he meant by _she_, -now? That's the puzzle I am putting to you. Who do you think _she_ -is?" - -"You, of course," I answered boldly. - -Mrs. Fanning favoured me with a broad wink. - -"Ah now, that's very nice of you," she said, "but the old mother -doesn't come in anywhere when the young girl appears on the horizon. -It is about time for Albert to be meeting the young girl, and meet her -he will. Indeed, it is my opinion that he has met her, and that the -brougham which she likes is standing at the door. It is for the sake -of that young girl he has had those wheels painted brown, it is not -the wish of his old mother. But come for a drive with me, will you, -dear?" - -"I am sorry," I began. - -"Oh no, I am not going to take any refusal. Ah, there is your precious -dear mother coming into the room." - -Before I could interrupt her, Mrs. Fanning had gone to meet my mother. -She never walked in the ordinary sense of the word, she waddled. She -waddled now in her stiff brown satin across the drawing-room, and -stood before mother. - -"And how are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Wickham?" she said; "ah! -but poorly, I can tell by the look of your face, you are dreadfully -blue round the lips, it's the effect of indigestion, isn't it, now?" - -"I have suffered a good deal lately from indigestion," replied mother -in her gentle tones. - -"And a bad thing it is, a very bad thing," said Mrs. Fanning. "I cured -myself with Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People. Did you ever try -'em, Mrs. Wickham?" - -"No," replied mother gravely. - -"Well, well, they pulled me round. Albert was terribly concerned about -me a year ago. I couldn't fancy the greatest dainties you could give -me, I turned against my food, and as to going upstairs, why, if you'll -believe me, I could have no more taken possession of that attic next -to your young daughter than I could have fled. Now there ain't a stair -in Britain would daunt me; I'd be good for climbing the Monument any -fine morning, and it's all owing to Williams' Pink Pills. They're a -grand medicine. But what I wanted to say to you now was this: May Miss -Wickham come for a drive with me in my son's own brougham? I am -anxious to have an outing with her, and I see by her face she is -desirous to come; may she? Say yes, madam; if you are wise, you will." - -I saw that mother was becoming a little excited and a little agitated, -and I knew that that would never do, so I said hastily-- - -"Don't worry mother, please, Mrs. Fanning; I will certainly come with -you for an hour or so." - -"We won't be back in an hour, dear," said Mrs. Fanning, "nor for two -hours; we are going to enjoy ourselves with a tea out. You'll spare -your daughter until she comes back, won't you, madam? I mean you won't -fret about her." - -I was just about absolutely to refuse, when Miss Mullins came into the -room. To my astonishment and disgust she came straight over to where -we were talking, and immediately took Mrs. Fanning's part. - -"Oh yes," she said, "you must not disappoint dear Mrs. Fanning, -Westenra; she was so looking forward to having a time out with you. Go -with her. As to your mother, I will look after her. I have nothing at -all to do this afternoon, and mean to go and sit with her in the -drawing-room, or rather to bring her into my private room, where we -will have a cosy tea to ourselves." - -There was no help for it. After Jane's treachery in siding with Mrs. -Fanning, I could only have refused by making a fuss, which would have -been extremely bad for mother, so I went upstairs and spent a little -time considering in which of my hats I looked worst, and which of my -jackets presented the most dowdy appearance. Alack and alas! I had no -dowdy jackets and no unbecoming hats. I put on, however, the quietest -I could find, and ran downstairs. Mrs. Fanning was waiting for me in -the hall. One of the servants of the establishment was standing near -with a heavy fur rug over her arm. Mrs. Fanning was attired in a huge -sealskin cape, which went down below her knees, and a bonnet with a -large bird of paradise perched on one side of the brim. She had a -veil, with huge spots on it, covering her broad face, and she was -drawing on a pair of gloves a great deal too small for her fat hands. - -"Here you are, Miss Wickham," she said; "now, then, we'll go. Open the -door, please, Emma." - -Emma did so, and we entered the carriage. - -"Spread the rug, Emma," said Mrs. Fanning in a lordly tone. This was -also accomplished, and the next moment we were whirling away. Mrs. -Fanning laid her fat hand on my lap. - -"Now, this is pleasant," she said; "I have been looking forward to -this. Do you know where I am going to take you?" - -"I am sure I cannot tell," I answered; "but as we are out, I hope you -will let me look at the shops; I want to tell mother something about -the latest fashions; it often entertains her." - -"Well, I am glad to hear you speak in that strain, it sounds so human -and womanly. Your tastes and mine coincide to a nicety. There's no one -loves shop-gazing better than I do; I have flattened my nose against -shop windows times and again, as long as I can remember. Before my -dear Albert became so wealthy, I used to get into my bus, and do my -hour of shop-gazing a-most every afternoon, but now it fidgets the -coachman if I ask him to pull up the horses too often. You like the -swing of the carriage, don't you, my dear? It's very comfortable, -isn't it? nearly as nice as if it had the yellow wheels that Albert -would not gratify his old mother by allowing. Ah, SHE has a deal to -answer for--a deal to answer for--however nice she may be in herself." -Here Mrs. Fanning favoured me with one of her broadest winks. - -"The carriage is very nice," I replied. - -"I fancied somehow that it would suit you, and I was most anxious to -see how you looked in it. Some people don't look as if they were born -to a carriage, others take to it like a duck takes to the water. Now, -you look very nice in it; you and your mother in this carriage would -look as genteel as two ladies could look. You don't know what a great -admiration I have for your mother. She is one of the most beautiful -women on God's earth." - -"And one of the best," I said impulsively, and as I thought of all -that was going to happen to that most precious mother, and how soon -that presence would be withdrawn from our mortal gaze, and how soon -that spirit would go to the God who gave it, tears sprang to my eyes, -and even Mrs. Fanning became more tolerable. - -"Ah, you are feeling cut to bits about her great delicacy," said that -good lady. "Any one can see that; but cheer up, cheer up, the young -ought to rejoice, and you of all women under the sun have the most -cause for rejoicement, Miss Wickham." - -I did not ask her why, I did not dare, we drove on. It seemed to me -that we were not going anywhere near the shops, we were steadily -pursuing our way into the suburbs. After a drive of over an hour, we -suddenly found ourselves in a part of Highgate quite unknown to me. We -had been going uphill for some time, and we stopped now before some -iron gates; a woman ran out of a lodge and opened the gates, and then -we drove down a short avenue shaded by some fine trees. We drew up in -front of a large, substantial red-brick house, the door of which was -open, and on the steps stood Mr. Fanning. He ran down to meet us, with -both his hands extended. - -"Ah! and you have brought the little thing," he said to his mother. - -"What little thing?" I said to myself. This was really the final -straw. I had never, never even by my most intimate friends, been -spoken of as the "little thing," for I was a tall girl and somewhat -large in my ideas, and if anything rather masculine in my mind, and to -be spoken of as a little thing, and by Albert Fanning, was about the -final straw which broke the camel's back. My first intention was to -refuse to budge from the carriage, to fiercely demand that the -coachman should turn round and drive me straight back again to mother, -but on second thoughts, I reflected that I should lose a good deal of -dignity by this proceeding, and the best possible plan was to appear -as if nothing at all extraordinary had occurred, and to follow Mrs. -Fanning into the house. - -"Yes, I have brought her," said that good woman; "here she is. She -looks slim beside your old mother, eh! Albert? but she's young; as -time goes on she'll spread like all the rest of us. Well, and here we -are, and she likes the brougham extremely; don't you, my dear? I could -see that if you had yielded to me with regard to the yellow wheels she -would not have approved. We must all humour her while she is young; it -is always the way, always the way, ain't it, Albert? And I never saw a -girl look nicer in a brougham than she does. She did enjoy her drive; -it was lovely to see her. Well, now, she'll enjoy still more what's -before her--the house and the grounds. It's a bit of a surprise we -have for you, my dear," continued the old lady, turning to me. "It is -not every girl would have the luck to be brought here by _his_ mother; -but everything that can be made easy and pleasant for you, Miss -Wickham, shall be made easy and pleasant. It was Albert's wish that -you should come here with me, and he said you would much rather it was -not bragged about at the boarding-house beforehand. This is my son -Albert's new house, furnished according to his own taste, which is -excellent, nothing showy nor gimcrack, all firm and good, bought at -Maple's, dear, in Tottenham Court Road, and the very best the -establishment could furnish. Everything new, shining, and _paid_ for, -dear, paid for. You can see the bills, not a debt to hang over your -head by-and-by, love. But come in, come in." - -I really felt that I could not stand much longer on the steps of the -mansion, listening to this most extraordinary address made to me by -Mrs. Fanning. What did it matter to me whether Albert Fanning paid for -his household goods or not? and how could it concern me what shop he -chose to buy them at? But I felt myself more or less in a trap, and -knew the best way to prevent any crisis taking place was to put on an -assumed air of absolute indifference, and to take the first possible -opportunity of returning home. - -"Jane must get the Fannings to leave to-morrow, whatever happens," I -said to myself, "and I must cling now to Mrs. Fanning for dear life. I -don't suppose Albert Fanning will propose for me while she is by." But -alas! I little knew the couple with whom I had to deal. Albert Fanning -had willed that I was not to cling close to his mother. Turning to the -old lady, he said-- - -"You're fagged and flustered. You have done things uncommonly well, -and now you'll just have the goodness to sit with your feet on the -fender in the drawing-room, and give yourself a right good toasting -while Miss Wickham and I are examining the house." - -"Oh no," I began. - -"Oh yes," said Mrs. Fanning; "don't be shy, love." She gave me another -wink so broad that I did not dare to expostulate further. Had I done -so, Albert would probably have gone on his knees on the spot and -implored of me there and then to make him the happiest of men. - -Accordingly we all entered the drawing-room which was furnished _à la_ -Maple. It was a large room, and there were a great many tables about, -and I wondered how stout Mrs. Fanning could cross the room without -knocking over one or two. She looked round her with admiration. - -"It's amazing the taste you have," she said, gazing at her son as if -he were a sort of demigod. He put her into a comfortable chair by the -fire, and then he and I began to do the house. Was there ever such a -dreadful business? We began at the attics, and we thoroughly explored -room after room. I did not mind that. As long as I could keep Albert -Fanning off dangerous ground I was quite ready to talk to him. I was -ready to poke at the mattresses on the new beds, and to admire the -chain springs, and to examine the ventilators in the walls of every -single room. I said "Yes" to all his remarks, and he evidently thought -he was making a most favourable impression. We took a long time going -over the house, but I did not mind that, for Mr. Fanning was in his -element, and was so pleased with his own consummate common sense and -his own skill in getting the right things into the right corners, and -in showing me what a mind he had for contriving and for making money -go as far as possible, that I allowed him to talk to his heart's -content. The brougham must soon be ordered again, and we must get back -to town, and the awful time would be at an end. But when at last even -the kitchens had been inspected, and the action of the new range -explained to me, Albert said that he must now show me the grounds. -There was no escaping this infliction, and accordingly into the -grounds we went. - -These were fairly spacious. There was a large fruit garden, and a -kitchen garden behind it, and Albert Fanning told me exactly what he -was going to plant in the kitchen garden in the spring--a certain bed -in particular was to be devoted to spring onions. He told me that he -hated salad without a good dash of onion in it, and as he spoke he -looked at me as much as to say, "Don't you ever give me salad without -onion," and I began to feel the queerest sensation, as if I was being -mastered, creeping over me. I wondered if the man really intended to -take me from the garden to the church, where the priest would be -waiting to perform the ceremony which would tie us together for life. -The whole proceeding was most extraordinary, but just at the crucial -moment, just when I was feeling that I could bear things no longer, I -heard Mrs. Fanning's cheery voice. How I loved the old lady at that -moment! - -"Albert! Albert!" she called out, "the tea is cooling. I don't approve -of tea being drawn too long, and it has been in the teapot for ten -minutes. Come in this minute, you naughty young folks, come in and -enjoy your tea." - -"I am coming," I answered, "I am very hungry and thirsty." - -"Are you?" said Mr. Fanning, looking at me. "Coming, mother, coming." - -I turned to run after the old lady, but he suddenly put out his hand -and caught one of mine, I pulled it away from him. - -"Don't," I said. - -"Don't!" he replied; "but I certainly shall. I mean often to touch you -in the future, so what does it matter my taking your hand now. I hope -to have you near me all day long and every day in the future. You must -have guessed why I brought you out here." - -"I have guessed nothing, except that I am thirsty and want my tea," I -replied. "I cannot talk to you any longer." - -"Oh yes, you can," he replied, "and you don't stir from here until I -have had my say. You thought to escape me that time in the -drawing-room a few weeks back, but you won't now. Don't be angry; -don't look so frightened. I mean well, I mean--I cannot tell you what -I _quite_ mean when I look at you, but there, you like the house?" - -"Yes," I said, "very well." - -"Very well indeed; let me tell you, Miss Wickham, there isn't a more -comfortable house nor a better furnished house, nor a better paid-for -house in the length and breadth of the county. And you like these -gardens, eh?" - -"Certainly," I said. - -"I thought so. Well, now, the fruit garden, and the kitchen garden, -and the pleasure garden, and the house, and the furniture, and the -master of the house are all at your disposal. There! I have spoken. -You are the one I am wishing to wed; you are the one I intend to wed. -I am wanting you, and I mean to have you for better, for worse. I have -not the slightest doubt that you have faults, but I am willing to run -the risk of finding them out; and I have no doubt that I have faults -too, but I do not think that they are too prominent, and, at any rate, -I am a real, downright son of Britain, an honest, good-hearted, -well-meaning man. I believe in the roast beef of Old England and the -beer of Old England, and the ways of Old England, and I want an -English girl like yourself to be my wife, and I will treat you well, -my dear, and love you well--yes, I will love you right well." - -Here his voice broke, and a pathetic look came into his eyes, and I -turned away more embarrassed, and more distressed than ever I was in -my life. - -"You will have all that heart can desire, little girl, and your poor, -delicate mother, shall come and live with you in this house; and she -and my mother can have a sitting-room between them. We shall be a -happy quartette, and you shall come to me as soon as ever you like, -the sooner the better. Now you need not give me your answer yet. We -know, of course, what it will be; it is a great chance for you, and I -am not denying it, but come and enjoy your tea." - -"But I must and will give you my answer now," I replied. "How can you -for a single moment imagine that I can seriously consider your offer? -It is kind of you; yes, it is kind of any man to give his whole heart -to a girl; and, I believe, you are sincere, but I can only give you -one answer, Mr. Fanning." - -"And that?" he said. - -"It is quite--quite absolutely impossible! I could never love you; I -could never, never marry you. I am sorry, of course, but I have -nothing--nothing more to say." - -"You mean," said Albert Fanning, turning pale, and a queer, half -angry, half wild look coming and going on his face, "that you _refuse_ -me--me, and my house, and my brougham, and my gardens, and my paid-for -furniture! Is it true?" - -"I refuse you, and all that you want to confer upon me," I answered. -"I know you mean well, and I am--oh, yes, I _am_ obliged to you. Any -girl ought to be obliged to a man who offers her the best he has; but -I could never under any circumstances marry you. Now, you know." - -"You will rue it, and I do not think you mean it," he said. His face -turned red, then purple, he turned on his heel, and allowed me to walk -back to the house alone. - -My head was swimming. My eyes were full of smarting tears which I -dared not shed. I entered the drawing-room where Mrs. Fanning was -waiting for me. - -"Ah! here you are," she cried, rubbing her hands, and speaking in a -very cheerful tone; "and where is Albert? Has he--has he?--why, what -is the matter, my love?" - -"I must tell you the truth," I answered, "for I know you will guess -it. Your son has been kind enough to ask me to marry him. You knew he -meant to ask me, did you not? but I--I have refused him. No, I don't -want any tea; I don't want even to go back in the brougham. I can -never, never marry your son, Mrs. Fanning; and you must have known -it--and it was very unkind of you to bring me here without saying -anything about it." And then I sank on the nearest chair, and sobbed -as if my heart would break. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -BUTTERED BREAD - - -Mrs. Fanning let me cry for a moment or two without interrupting me. I -think in her way she had plenty of heart; for once when I raised my -head, feeling relieved from the bitter flow of those tears, I found -that she was looking at me with a quizzical, but by no means unkindly -glance. - -"We'll say nothing about this at present," she exclaimed; "you shan't -be plagued, my dear. I'll talk to Albert, and say that you are not to -be worried; but whether you take him in the long run or not, you want -your tea now. Come, child, drink up this nice cup of hot tea." - -As she spoke she squeezed herself on to the sofa by my side; and gave -me tea according to her taste, and insisted on my drinking it; and I -could not refuse her, although my sobs were still coming heavily. - -"Ah, you're a proud young girl," she said, "you're one of those who do -not know which side their bread is buttered; but you will some day, -the knowledge will come to you, and soon, I'm thinking, soon." - -Here she looked intensely mysterious, and nodded her head -emphatically. - -"And there's not a better fellow in the length and breadth of England -than my son, Albert," she continued; "there's no one who would give -his wife a better time. Kind, he would be to her; firm, he would be no -doubt too. He would make her obey him, but he would make her love him -too. You will know all about it by-and-by, my dear, all about it -by-and-by. For the present we'll say nothing more. Albert shan't drive -with us back in the brougham, although I know he meant to do so. Poor -fellow! could love go further; his legs cramped up on that little seat -at the back, but love feels no pain, dear; no more than pride feels -pain. It's a bit of a shock to you, I know. Proposals always are; that -is, to modest girls. I felt terribly flustered when Albert's father -asked me to marry him. I assure you, my love, I could not bear the -sight of him for the next fortnight. I used to say, whenever he -entered a room, 'I'm going out, Albert, if you're coming in. Get right -away now, if you don't want me to hate you for ever,' but, in the end, -my dear love, I was head over ears in love with him. There never was a -better husband. He would be masterful as a good man should; but, dear, -I worshipped the ground he trod on, and it was he who made the -beginning of that fortune which Albert has turned into so big a thing. -Well, my love, you have seen the house, and you have gone over the -grounds, and you have done something else. You have looked into the -great good heart of my son, Albert; and after a time, I have no -doubt, you will creep into that heart, and take refuge; but mum's the -word at present, mum's the word." - -The idea of my creeping into Albert's heart as a final cave of refuge -was so funny, that I could scarcely keep back my smiles; and I almost -became hysterical between laughing and crying, so much so, that Mrs. -Fanning had to put her arms round me and hug me, and call me her dear -little girl. - -I was very glad she did not say, "dear little thing." By-and-by she -ordered the carriage, and we went back to town. She was most -affectionate to me. She assured me many times that she quite -understood; that she had gone through precisely the same phases with -regard to Albert Fanning the first but that it had all come right, and -that her passion for the godly man had been very strong by-and-by. I -should feel just the same with regard to Albert the second. It was the -way of girls; that is, nice girls. - -"Don't talk to me about that Miss Marion Armstrong," she said. "The -ways of that girl turn me sick. It is the contrast you make to Marion -Armstrong which has done the business more than anything else, my dear -Miss Wickham. But there, dear, there we'll turn the conversation." - -"I earnestly wish you would," I said - -"Ah," she said, "how history repeats itself. I used to feel as if I -would like to box any one in the face who talked to me about my dear -Albert long ago. But oh, how I loved him before all was over, how I -loved him!" - -She almost shed tears at the recollection. In short, I had a most -unpleasant drive home. At last it was over. I got out of the brougham, -with its red body and chocolate wheels, and staggered rather than -walked into the house. I did not dare to see mother until all traces -of emotion had left my face, but I made straight for Jane's sanctum. - -"Jane," I said the moment I found myself there, "the Fannings must go -away; they must, Jane, they must." - -"Why so?" asked Jane. - -"I will tell you what has just happened. Mother must never know, but I -must tell some one. Mrs. Fanning took me into the country in their new -brougham. We went to Highgate; they have a house there. Mr. Fanning -was there to meet us. He called me a little thing, and he took me over -the house and over the grounds, and told me, on pain of his direst -displeasure, that I was never to give him salad without onions, and -then he asked me to _marry him_. O Jane! what is to be done?" - -"But didn't you always know that he was going to ask you?" inquired -Jane in a low voice. - -"Ask me to marry him! How could I suppose anything so preposterous?" I -exclaimed. - -"Well, dear, I know it goes very sore with you, and I hope, with all -my heart and soul, that it may not be necessary." - -"Necessary!" I said, "what do you mean? O Jane! don't talk in that -way, you'll drive me mad. I cannot stay in the house with the Fannings -any more." - -"Let me think for a moment," answered Jane. She looked very careworn -and distressed, her face had grown thin and haggard. She looked years -older than before we had started the boarding-house. I was quite sorry -to see the change in her face. - -"Our life does not suit you," I said. - -"Oh, it suits me well enough," she replied, "and I never leave a -sinking ship." - -"But why should this ship be sinking? I thought we were doing so well, -the house is almost always full." - -"It is just this," said Jane: "we charged too little when we started. -If the house was choke-full, all the attics and the three different -floors let, we could not make the thing pay, that's the awful fact, -and you ought to know it, Westenra. We should have begun by charging -more." - -"Then why didn't we?" I said. "I left all those matters to you, Jane. -I was very ignorant, and you came and----" - -"I am not blaming you, my dear Westenra," said Jane; "only it is very, -very hard to go on toiling, toiling all day and almost all night, and -to feel at the same time that the thing cannot pay, that it can never -pay." - -"But why didn't we begin by charging more, and why can't we charge -more now?" - -"Because people who live in Bloomsbury never pay more," answered Miss -Mullins, "that is it, dear. If we meant this thing to succeed we -should have started our boarding-house in Mayfair, and then perhaps we -might have had a chance of managing. Perhaps with a connection like -yours we could have made it pay." - -"Never," I said, "none of our friends would come to us, they would -have been scandalised. It would never have done, Jane." - -"Well, well, we have got ourselves into a trap, and we must get out -the best way we can," was Jane's lugubrious answer. - -"Oh, never mind about our being in money difficulties now," I cried, -"do think of me, Jane, just for a moment, do make things possible for -me. Remember that I am very young, and I was never accustomed to -people of the Fanning type. Do, I beseech of you, ask them to go. Mr. -Fanning's action to-day will make your request possible. Jane, if I -went on my knees and stayed there all my life, I could not marry him, -and the sooner he knows it the better." - -"I will think things over," said Jane. I never saw anything like the -look of despair which was creeping over her face. - -"Things are coming to a crisis," she continued, "and I must confide -in you fully, but not just now, we must get dinner over first. Your -mother was ill while you were away, she won't come to dinner -to-night." - -"Mother ill! Anything serious?" I cried in alarm. - -"Only a little faintness. I have got her comfortably to bed." - -"Well, of course, I shan't dine to-night, I shall stay with mother." - -"But you must, my love, it is absolutely necessary that you should -appear at dinner, and you must be quite cheerful too in her room. She -is quite herself now, and is looking over a new book, and when you go -to her you will see that she has had a nice dinner, nourishing and -suitable. Now go and change your dress, and make yourself look smart. -Now that Mr. Randolph is gone, and your mother is too ill to be often -in the drawing-room and dining-room, the affairs of the household rest -upon you. You must make yourself smart; you must make yourself -attractive. It must be done, Westenra, it must, and for your mother's -sake." - -Jane spoke with such determination that she stimulated my courage, and -I went away to my own room determined to act on her advice. - -At the other side of the wall I heard Mrs. Fanning's heavy steps as -she walked about. She did not seem to be at all depressed at my -refusal of her son Albert. On the contrary, she was in very good -spirits. She had been in excellent spirits all the way back, and had -kept on assuring me that I was only going on the usual tack of the -modest maiden, the maiden who was worthy of such a man as her godly -son Albert. Had not she herself hated Albert's father for a whole -fortnight after his proposal, and had she not been glad, very glad, in -the end to creep into his great heart for shelter? Did she suppose -that I also would be glad to creep into Albert the second's great -heart for shelter? Oh, it was all unbearable. But, nevertheless, there -was a spirit of defiance in me. I had tried my ugly dresses in vain, I -had tried being grave and distant in vain. I had tried everything, but -nothing had availed; Mr. Fanning was determined to have me for his -wife. I wondered if the man cared for me, perhaps he did after his -fashion, but as no self-denials on my part had the effect of repulsing -him, I would give way to my fancy and dress properly for dinner. I put -on a very pretty pink dress which I had not yet worn, and ran -downstairs. - -At dinner I sat opposite Mr. Fanning. Mother's place was empty, and -Mrs. Fanning called across the table to know what was the matter with -her. - -I said that she was tired and had gone to bed, whereupon Mrs. -Armstrong immediately remarked, that it was a very good thing we had -such an excellent housekeeper as Miss Mullins to look after things in -my mother's serious state of health, otherwise the house would go to -wreck and ruin, she said. - -Mrs. Armstrong looked daggers at me for wearing my pink dress. She had -never seen anything so stylish as that soft, graceful robe before, and -between her jealousy at seeing me so attired, and her earnest wish to -copy it for Marion, she scarcely knew what to do with herself. She -darted angry glances at my face, and then tried to measure with her -eye the amount of ribbon on the bodice, and the quantity of chiffon -round the neck. But Mr. Fanning, to my great relief and delight, did -not appear to take the slightest interest in me. I do not think he -once glanced at my pretty evening frock. He absorbed himself -altogether with Marion Armstrong. He talked to her all during dinner, -and invited her in a loud voice to come and see him at his office on -the following day. - -"I told you, Miss Armstrong," he said, "that as a rule I am brutal to -the people who come to me trying to sell their wares. Those silly -folks who bring their useless manuscripts and their poor little -amateur drawings to my office find that I make short work with them. - -"'If you like to leave your manuscript or your drawings,' I say to -them, 'you can do so, but as to the chance of their being accepted, -well, look for yourselves. Do you see that pile? all that pile of -manuscripts has to be read before yours. If you leave your -manuscripts they go under the pile at the bottom; there will be nearly -a ton of stuff on top of them. You take your chance. You had best go -away at once with what you have brought, for I am not likely to -require it.' They mostly do go away, Miss Armstrong, for I am brutal -in my words and brutal in my tone. There is no use in buoying people -up with false hopes." Here he gave a loud guffaw, which reached my -ears at the further end of the table. - -Captain Furlong bent across at that moment to say something to me, and -I saw that he was much displeased at Mr. Fanning's loud, aggressive -words. But Mr. Fanning, after all, was nothing to Mrs. Fanning. It was -quite pleasant to me to see that he should turn his attentions to Miss -Marion Armstrong, but Mrs. Fanning's winks were more than I could -endure. They were just as much as to say, "Listen to him now; he is -only doing that to draw you on." So plainly did her speaking eyes -announce this fact, that I dreaded each moment her saying the awful -words aloud, but fortunately she did not go quite so far as that. - -When dinner was over Mrs. Armstrong came and sat near me. - -"Have you seen any of Marion's drawings lately?" she asked. - -"No," I replied; "is she getting on well?" - -"Is she getting on well!" retorted Mrs. Armstrong. "The girl is a -genius. I told you before that her whole soul was devoted to h'Art. -Well, I may as well say now that she has sold a little set of drawings -to Mr. Fanning. He means to bring them out in his Christmas number of -the _Lady's Handbag_. Have you ever seen the _Lady's Handbag_, Miss -Wickham?" - -"No," I answered; "I cannot say that I have." - -"I am surprised to hear it. The _Lady's Handbag_ is one of the most -striking and widely read periodicals of the day. It contains -information on every single thing that a lady ought to know, and there -is nothing in it for those low-down common sort of people who want -wild excitement and sickening adventures. But you shall see it for -yourself. Marion! Come here, dear Marion." - -Marion, behind whose chair Mr. Fanning was standing, rose reluctantly -and crossed the room with a frown between her brows. - -"You will scarcely believe it, Marion, but Miss Wickham has not seen -the _Lady's Handbag_. I was just telling her that you are to -illustrate an article for the Christmas number. Perhaps you could -oblige me by bringing a number here. I know Miss Wickham would like to -see any of Mr. Fanning's publications." - -Miss Armstrong left the room and returned with a copy of the _Lady's -Handbag_. It was handed to me and I turned the pages. It was exactly -the sort of fifth-rate production which I should expect a man of Mr. -Fanning's calibre to initiate. - -I gave it back to Mrs. Armstrong. - -"I am so glad that Miss Armstrong is having her first success," I said -then, and I thought what a suitable and admirable wife she would make -for Mr. Fanning, and hoped that he might by-and-by think so himself. - -As I was entering my own room that night, Mrs. Fanning popped her head -out of her own door near by. - -"One word, Miss Wickham," she said. She looked very funny. She had -divested herself of her gay dress and was wearing a night-cap. Her -night-cap had large frills which partly encircled her wide face. - -"I know you're fretted by the way Albert has gone on this evening," -she said, "but he's only doing it on purpose. I am sorry for that poor -girl, though. You had better be quick and make up your mind, or Marion -Armstrong will fall over head and ears in love with him, but if you -imagine for a single moment that he thinks sincerely of her you are -greatly mistaken. It's you he wants, and you he'll have. Go to bed -now, dear, and dream of him, but I understand your ways perfectly. I -felt just the same about Albert the first." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -YOU USED TO LOVE US - - -Mother was very ill for the next few days, and I was so much occupied -with her that I had no time to think of either Mr. or Mrs. Fanning. -When I was in the drawing-room my heart was full of her; when I forced -myself to go to meals, I could only think of her dear face. Was she -going to be taken away from me before the year was up? Oh, surely God -would at least leave me my one treasure for that short time. In those -days I used to go away by myself and struggle to pray to God, but my -heart was heavy, and I wondered if He heard my restless and broken -words. I used to creep out sometimes and go into a church alone, and -try to picture what my future would be when mother was gone; but I -could not picture it. It always rose before me as a great blank, and I -could not see anything distinctly. It seemed to me that I could see -everything when mother was present, and nothing without her. And then -I would go back again to her room and rouse myself to be cheerful, and -to talk in a pleasant tone. I was doing the utmost that duty required -of me just then. I determined that nothing would induce me to look -further afield. Life without mother I did not dare to contemplate. But -there were moments when the thought of one person came to my heart -with a thrill of strength and comfort. I missed Jim Randolph, and -longed for him to come back. - -As the winter passed away and the spring approached, I began to hope -for his return. I began to feel that when once he was back things -would be right, anxiety would be removed from Jane's face, the strain -would be removed. Mother would have her friend near her, and I also -should not be friendless when my time of terrible trouble came, for of -course mother was dying. The doctor was right. It was a question -perhaps of days, of months at most, but if Mr. Randolph came back I -thought that I could bear it. - -When mother and I were alone I noticed that she liked to talk of Jim, -and I was more than willing to listen to her, and to draw her out, and -to ask her questions, for it seemed to me that she knew him a great -deal better than I did. - -"There always seems to be a mystery surrounding him," I said on one -occasion. "You know much more than I do. I like him, of course, and I -am sure you like him, mother." - -"Except your dear father, West," replied mother, "he is the best -fellow I ever met, and he will come back again, dearest. I shall be -very glad when he comes back. We ought to hear from him soon now." - -The winter was now passing away and the spring coming, and the spring -that year happened to be a mild and gracious one, without much east -wind, and with many soft westerly breezes, and the trees in the Square -garden put on their delicate fragile green clothing, and hope came -back to my heart once more. - -One day I had gone to do some messages for mother in Regent Street. -She had asked me to buy some lace for a new fichu, and one or two -other little things. I went off to fulfil my messages with my heart -comparatively light. - -I went to Dickins & Jones', and was turning over some delicate laces -at the lace counter when a hand was laid on my shoulder. I turned with -a start to encounter the kind old face of the Duchess of Wilmot. - -"My dear Westenra," she said, "this is lucky. How are you? I have -heard nothing of you for a long time." - -Now, I had always loved the Duchess, not at all because she was a -duchess, but because she was a woman with a very womanly heart and a -very sweet way, and my whole heart went out to her now--to her -gracious appearance, to her gentle, refined tone of voice, to the look -in her eyes. I felt that I belonged to her set, and her set were -delightful to me just then. - -"Where are you going," inquired the Duchess, "after you have made your -purchases?" - -"Home again," I answered. - -"My carriage is at the door; you shall come with me. You shall come -and have tea with me." - -"I have not time," I said. "Mother is not well, and I must hurry back -to her." - -"Your mother not well! Mary Wickham not well! I have heard nothing for -months. I have written two or three times, but my letters have not -been replied to. It is impossible to keep up a friendship of this -sort, all on one side, Westenra. And you don't look as well as you -did, and oh! my dear child, is that your spring hat?" - -"It is; it will do very well," I answered. I spoke almost brusquely; I -felt hurt at her remarking it. - -"But it is not fresh. It is not the sort of hat I should like my -god-daughter to wear. They have some pretty things here. I must get -you a suitable hat." - -"No, no," I said with passion. "It cannot be." - -"You are so ridiculously proud and so ridiculously socialistic in all -your ideas. But if you were a true Socialist you would take a present -from your old friend without making any fuss over the matter." - -As the Duchess spoke she looked at me, and I saw tears in her eyes. - -"And I am your godmother," she continued. "I do not like to see you -looking as you do. You want a new hat and jacket; may I get them for -you?" - -At first I felt that I must refuse, but then I reflected that it would -please mother to see me in the hat and jacket which the Duchess would -purchase. I knew that the buying of such things were a mere bagatelle -to her, and the little pleasure which the new smart things would give -mother were not a bagatelle. My own feelings must be crushed out of -sight. I said humbly, "Just as you like." So the Duchess hurried me -into another room, and a hat that suited me was tried on and paid for, -and then a new jacket was purchased, and the Duchess made me put on -both hat and jacket immediately, and gave the address of 17 Graham -Square to have my old things sent to. - -The next moment we were bowling away in her carriage. - -"Ah," she cried, "now you look more like yourself. Pray give that old -hat to the housemaid. Don't put it on again. I mean to drive you home -now, Westenra." - -"Thank you," I answered. - -"I mean to see your mother also. Is she seriously ill?" - -"She is," I replied. I lowered my eyes and dropped my voice. - -"But what is the matter, my poor child? You seem very sad." - -"I have a great deal to make me sad, but I cannot tell you too much -now, and you must not question me." - -"And Jim has gone, really?" - -"Mr. Randolph has gone." - -The Duchess seemed about to speak, but she closed her lips. - -"He wrote and told me he had to go, but he will come back again. When -did you say he went, Westenra?" - -"I did not say, Duchess." - -"But give me the date, dear, please, and be quick." - -I thought for a moment. - -"He left England on the 30th of November," I said. - -"Ah, and this is the 15th of March. What a nice genial spring we are -having. He will be home soon; I am sure of that." - -"Have you heard from him?" I asked abruptly. - -"Just a line _en route_. I think it was dated from Colombo. Have you -heard?" - -"I believe mother had a letter, and I think Jane had." - -"He has not written to you?" - -"No." I felt the colour leap into my cheeks like an angry flame. I was -ashamed of myself for blushing. - -The Duchess looked at me attentively, and I saw a pleased expression -in her eyes. That look made me still more uncomfortable. She bent -towards me, took my hand, and pressed it. - -"You like Jim, do you not?" she said. - -"Yes," I answered very slowly. "I do not know Mr. Randolph well, but -what little I have seen of him I like. He is courteous, and he thinks -of others; he is very unselfish; he has much sympathy and tact, too. I -think he is very fond of mother." - -The Duchess gave the queerest, most inexplicable of smiles. - -"He is a dear fellow," she said. "Westenra, when you come back to us -we will all rejoice." - -"I do not understand you," I answered coldly. "It is impossible for me -ever to come back to you. I have stepped down." - -"When you come back we will rejoice," she repeated. - -"But I am not coming back. I do not even know that I want to. If you -had come to see mother sometimes--mother, who is just as much a lady -as she ever was, who is sweeter and more beautiful than she ever -was--you might have done us a great service, and I could have loved -you, oh! so dearly; but you have forsaken us, because we are no longer -in your set. Duchess, I must speak the truth. I hate sets; I hate -distinctions of rank. You used to love us; I did think your love was -genuine. We lived in a nice house in Mayfair, and you were our great -and kind friend. Now you do not love us, because--because we are -poor." - -"You are mistaken, Westenra. I love you still, and I have never -forgotten you. I will not come in now, but I will come and see your -mother to-morrow." - -"That will please her," I answered, drying away the tears which had -risen to my eyes. "But please do not disappoint her. I will tell her -of your visit. Do not keep her waiting. She is weak; she has been very -ill. At what hour will you come?" - -"About twelve o'clock. But she must be very bad indeed from the way -you speak." - -"She is far from well." - -"Are you hiding anything from me, Westenra?" - -"I am," I replied stoutly. "And you cannot get my secret from me. When -you see mother to-morrow perhaps you will know without my speaking. Do -not say anything to agitate her." - -"My poor, poor child. Westenra, you ought never to have left us. You -do not look well; but never mind, spring is coming, and Jim Randolph -will be home before May." - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -RUINED - - -It was on the afternoon of that same day that Jane Mullins sent for me -to go into her private sitting-room. - -"Shut the door," she said, "I must talk to you." - -Really Jane looked most queer. During the last month or two, ever -since Mr. Randolph went away, she had been taking less and less pains -with her dress; her hair was rough and thinner than ever; her little -round figure had fallen away; she seemed to have aged by many years. -She was never a pretty woman, never in any sense of the word, but now -there was something grotesque about her, grotesque and at the same -time intensely pathetic. - -"I have done all I could," she said. "Lock the door, please, -Westenra." - -I locked the door. - -"Now come and sit here, or stand by the window, or do anything you -like; but listen with all your might, keep your attention alert." - -"Yes," I said, "yes." - -"We are ruined, Westenra," said Jane Mullins, "we are ruined." - -"What!" I cried. - -Jane said the words almost ponderously, and then she threw her hands -to her sides and gazed at me with an expression which I cannot by any -possibility describe. - -"We are ruined," she repeated, "and it is time you should know it." - -"But how?" I asked. - -"How?" she cried with passion, "because we have debts which we cannot -meet--we have debts, debts, debts on every side; debts as high as the -house itself. Because we deceived our landlord, unintentionally it is -true, but nevertheless we deceived him, with promises which we cannot -fulfil, he can take back the lease of this house if he pleases, and -take it back he will, because our paying guests don't pay, because the -whole thing from first to last is a miserable failure. There, -Westenra, that's about the truth. It was your thought in the first -instance, child, and though I don't want to blame you, for you did it -with good meaning, and in utter ignorance, yet nevertheless you must -take some of the brunt of this terrible time. I cannot bear the whole -weight any longer. I have kept it to myself, and it has driven me -nearly mad. Yes, we are ruined." - -"You must explain more fully," was my answer. - -Her agitation was so great that by its very force it kept me quiet. I -had never seen her absolutely without composure before; her usually -brisk, confident manner had deserted her. - -"You have kept me in the dark," I continued, "and you have done wrong, -very wrong. Now please explain how and why we are ruined." - -"Here are some of the accounts; understand them if you can," she said. -She opened a drawer and pulled out a great account book. "Now look -here," she said, "the house is absolutely full, there is not a single -room to be let; I declined four fresh parties only this morning; Emma -is perfectly tired opening the door to people who want to come here to -board, the house has got a name and a good one. It is said of it that -it is in Bloomsbury and yet smacks of the West End. You and your -mother and Jim Randolph, bless him! have to answer for that. It's all -your doing, and the people have talked. Everything has been done that -could be done to make the place popular, and the place is popular, but -now, you look here. Here are the takings"--she pointed to one side of -the ledger--"here are the expenses"--she pointed to the -other--"expenses so much, takings so much, look at the balance, -Westenra. Of course you don't know much about accounts, but you can -see for yourself." - -I did look, and I did see, and my heart seemed to stand still, for the -balance on the wrong side of the ledger represented many pounds a -week. - -"Then this means," I said, for I was sharp enough in my way, "that the -longer we go on the heavier we get into debt. Every week we lose so -much." - -"We do, dear, that's just it." - -"But cannot we retrench?" - -"Retrench! how? Do you suppose the boarders will do without their -comfortable hot coffee, and the other luxuries on the board at -breakfast? Do you suppose they will do without their lunch, their -afternoon tea with plenty of cakes and plenty of cream, their late -dinner, at which appears all the luxuries of the season?--why, the -house would be empty in a week. And we cannot have fewer servants, we -have only four, very much less than most people would have for an -establishment of this kind, and Emma already complains of pains in her -legs, and says she is worn out going up and down stairs." - -"But the place looks so thriving," I said. - -"Looks! what have looks to do with it?" said Jane. "I feel nearly mad, -for I always thought I could pull the thing through; but it's going on -at a loss, and nothing can go on at a loss; and then, dear, there are -bad debts--one or two people have shuffled off without paying, and -there are the furniture bills, they are not all met yet." - -"But I thought," I said, "that the seven thousand pounds----" - -"Ay," cried Jane, "and that is where the bitterness comes in. That -money was supposed to be all right, to be as sure and safe as the Bank -of England, and it is not all right, it is all wrong. But that is -James Randolph's story. When he comes back he will explain the rights -of it to you, my dear. If I could only hear from him that the money -was safe, we could wind up honourably in the autumn and stop the -concern; but I have not heard, I have not heard; there has been -nothing but silence, and the silence drives me mad. Westenra, what is -to be done?" - -"Give the whole thing up now," I said, "there is nothing else to be -done. We must stop." - -"Stop!" answered Jane. "You talk with the ignorance of a young girl. -If we stop now we will have the whole house of cards about our ears; -the tradespeople will sue for their money, the bailiffs will be in and -will take possession of the furniture, even the very bed your mother -sleeps on will be taken from under her. The awful, terrible position -is, that we can neither stop nor go on. It is fearful, fearful. Oh, if -I could only borrow a thousand pounds within a week, I would not care -a farthing. I would not even care if your mother was strong, but to -have this crash come about her in her present state of health, why, it -would kill her. Westenra, poor child, you are young and unaccustomed -to these things, but I must unburden my mind. There is ruin before us; -I can scarcely stave it off for another week, and I have not had a -line from Mr. Randolph, and I am nearly wild." - -"And you think a thousand pounds would keep things going for a little -longer," I answered. - -"Yes, we could stay on until the end of the season if I could get -that money. It would pay the quarter's rent, and the tradespeople's -bills, and the big furniture bills. And long before it was out Mr. -Randolph must come back and put everything straight. His return is -what I am hoping for more than the rising of the sun." - -"But oh, Jane, how--how am I to get the thousand pounds?" - -"I was thinking that Duchess of yours might lend it." - -"No," I said, "I cannot ask her; besides, I know she would not. Though -she is a Duchess she has not got a lot of money to spare. The Duke -manages everything, and she just has her allowance, and a great deal -to do with it. I cannot ask her." - -"There is one other way in which ruin could be averted," said Jane -slowly, "but that I suppose is not to be thought of. Well, I have told -you, and I suppose it is a sort of relief. Things may go on as they -are for another week or two, but that's about all." - -I felt that I trembled, but I would not let Jane see. - -"You have been very brave. You have ruined yourself for our sakes," I -cried impulsively. But at the same time I could not help adding, "That -friend of yours who promised you seven thousand pounds ought not to -have failed you at a critical moment like the present." - -"I won't have him blamed," said Jane, her face turning crimson; "it is -not his fault. Man could not do more." - -"Jane," I said, facing her, "tell me the truth now; what is the name -of your friend?" - -"You won't get his name out of me," answered Jane. "Mr. Randolph has -gone to Australia to put things straight with him. When I hear from -Mr. James Randolph all will be well." - -"Have you never heard since he left?" - -"Twice during the voyage, but not since. It is wonderful why he is so -silent. There, I seem to have lost hope." - -"Jane," I cried, "why don't you give us up and go back to your own -little house?" - -"Bless you, child, I'm not the one to leave a sinking ship. Oh, we'll -go on a little bit longer, and it has cheered me a little to confide -in you. I will work the ship for another week or so, and there will be -an extra nice dinner to-night, and spring asparagus, real English -grown, and your mother shall have the greater portion of it. Oh dear, -oh dear, if the house were twice its size we _might_ make it pay, but -as it is it's too big and it's too small; it's one of the -betwixt-and-betweens, and betwixt-and-between things _never_ do, -never, never. Child, forgive me, I am sorry to add to your cares. If -it were not for your mother I should not mind a bit." - -I could do nothing to comfort Jane. I went up to her and kissed her, -and held her hand for a moment, and then went slowly away to my own -room. I did not attempt to shed a tear, I was not going to cry just -then, it behoved me to be very brave; there was a great deal to be -borne, and if I gave way it seemed to me that everything must come to -an end. I felt some pride in my young strength and my courage, and was -resolved that they should not fail me in my hour of need. So I put -away the new hat and pretty jacket and went down to mother, and I -amused mother by showing her the lace I had bought, and I told her all -about the Duchess, and mother was much pleased at the thought of -seeing her old friend on the following morning, and she and I sat that -afternoon in the drawing-room making up the pretty lace fichu, and I -resolved that mother should wear it the next day when the Duchess -came. - -There was the most awful trouble hanging over us all; my mother's days -on earth were numbered, and my scheme, my lovely castle in the air, -was falling to ruins about my head. But all the same mother and I -laughed and were cheerful, and the visitors who came into the -drawing-room that afternoon thought what a picturesque group mother -and I made, and what a lovely room it was, and how much superior to -most boarding-houses; and they inquired, more than one of them, when -there would be a vacancy, and said they would write to Miss Mullins on -the subject. Poor Jane Mullins! she was bearing the brunt of the -storm. I pitied her from the depths of my heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -MR. PATTENS - - -The next day the Duchess called, and mother was looking so well for -her, and so pleased to see her old friend again, that I do not think -at first the Duchess of Wilmot half realised how ill she was. I just -saw her for a moment, and then went out. I came back again at the end -of an hour. Mother's cheeks were quite bright, and her eyes shining, -and her hand was in the Duchess's hand, and when she looked at me her -eyes grew brighter than ever, and she said to me-- - -"Come here, darling," and she raised her dear lips for me to kiss her. - -I did kiss those lips, and I thought them too hot, and I said to the -Duchess-- - -"You are tiring mother, you have stayed with her long enough." - -"Oh no, let her stay; I do love so much to see her," said my mother, -so I could not have the heart to say any more, and I went away to a -distant part of the room, and they began whispering again just like -the dearest friends which they really were, and at last the Duchess -came up to me and said-- - -"Come downstairs with, me, West." - -I went with her, and wondered why she called me by mother's pet name, -but I loved her very much. - -"Tell me the truth about your mother," said the Duchess as soon as we -got into the hall. "At first I thought her fairly well, but she is -feverish, quite feverish now. Have I overtired her?" - -"I cannot tell you anything except that she is not strong," I said; -"that you have come so seldom to see her, that you have over-excited -her now. Oh, I cannot wait, I must go back to her." - -"I will come again to-morrow or next day," said the Duchess; "I don't -like her appearance at all." - -The Duchess went away, and I returned to mother. - -"It was nice to see Victoria," said my mother. "She is just the same -as ever, not the least changed. She told me about all our old -friends." - -"You are over-excited," I said, "you ought to stay quiet now." - -"On the contrary, I am well and hungry; only I wonder when I shall see -her again." - -"She said she would come to-morrow or next day," I answered. - -In the evening mother certainly seemed by no means worse for the -Duchess's visit, and the next day she said to me, "Victoria will -certainly call to-morrow." But to-morrow came and the Duchess did not -arrive, nor the next day, nor the next, and mother looked rather -fagged, and rather sad and disappointed, and at the end of a week or -fortnight she ceased to watch anxiously for the sound of wheels in the -Square, and said less and less about her dear friend Victoria. - -But just then, the thoughts of every one in the house except mother -(and the news was carefully kept from her), were full of a great and -terrible catastrophe, and even I forgot all about the Duchess, for one -of our largest Orient liners had foundered on some sunken rocks not -far from Port Adelaide, off the coast of South Australia, and there -had been a terrific shipwreck, and almost every one on board was -drowned. The vessel was called the _Star of Hope_. The papers were all -full of it, and the news was on every one's lips; but just at first I -did not realise how all important, how paralysing this same news was -for us. I read the trouble first in Jane's face. - -"You must not let your mother know about the shipwreck," she said. - -"But I cannot keep the newspapers from mother, and every newspaper is -full of it," I replied; "surely, Jane, surely--oh, you cannot mean -it--no person that we know was on board?" - -"I have a great fear over me," she answered. - -I clutched her arm, and looked into her face with wild eyes. My own -brain seemed to reel, my heart beat almost to suffocation, then I -became quiet. With a mighty effort I controlled myself. - -"Surely," I said, "surely." - -"His name is not mentioned amongst the list of passengers, that is my -one comfort; but it is quite possible, on the other hand, that he may -have gone on board at Adelaide," she continued, "for I know he had -business close to Adelaide, he told me so. If that was the case they -might not have entered his name in the ship's list of passengers, -and--oh, I have a great, a terrible fear over me, his silence, and now -this. Yes, child, it is true, he was, if all had gone well, to be on -his way home about now; but he has never written, and now this -shipwreck. I am more anxious, far more anxious than I can say." - -That night I did not sleep at all. Thoughts of Jim Randolph filled my -mind to the exclusion of all hope of repose. Was he really drowned? -Had he left the world? Was I never to see his face again? There was a -cry at my heart, and an ache there which ought to have told me the -truth, and yet I would not face the truth. I said over and over to -myself, "If he dies, it is terrible; if he dies, it means ruin for -us;" but nevertheless I knew well, although I would not face the -truth, that I was not thinking of the ruin to the house in Graham -Square, nor the blow to mother, nor the loss of James Randolph simply -as a friend. There was a deeper cause for my grief. It was useless for -me to say to my own heart Jim Randolph was nothing to me. I knew well -that he was. I knew well that he was more to me than any one else in -the wide world; that I--yes, although he had never spoken of his love -for me, I loved him, yes, I loved him with my full heart. - -In the morning I made up my mind that I would go and see the Duchess. -Perhaps, too, she might know something about Jim Randolph, as he was a -friend of hers, a friend about whom she was always hinting, but about -whom she said very little. - -As I was leaving the house Jane called me into her sitting-room. - -"Where are you going," she said. - -I told her. - -"Did you ever think over that idea of mine that you might ask the -Duchess to lend us that thousand pounds?" she said. "You remember I -mentioned it, and you said you would not do it; but things are very -grave, very grave indeed; and if--if my fear about Mr. Randolph is -true, why things are graver than ever, in fact everything is up. But I -would like for _her_ sake, poor dear, for her sake to ward off the -catastrophe as long as possible. She was very ill last night, and I -was up with her for a couple of hours. I wouldn't disturb you; but -didn't you think yourself that she looked bad this morning?" - -"Oh yes," I said, the tears starting to my eyes; "I thought mother -looked terribly ill, and I am going to see the Duchess. She ought to -call in order to make mother happy." - -"Shut the door, Westenra," said Jane, "I have something I must say." - -I shut the door, I was trembling. Jane was no longer a rock of -defence, she made me more frightened than any one else in the house. - -"Oh, what is it?" I said; "don't be mysterious, do speak out." - -"Well, it is this," said Jane, "we want that thousand pounds just -dreadfully. If we had it we could go on, we could go on at least till -the end of the season, and there would be an excuse to take your -mother to the country, and she might never know, never; but it wants -two months to the end of the season, and the house is full, and every -one is in the height of good humour, and yet they are all walking on -the brink of a precipice; the earth is eaten away beneath us, and any -moment the whole thing may topple through. Why, it was only -yesterday----" - -"What happened yesterday?" I asked. - -"A man came, a Mr. Pattens." - -"What has Mr. Pattens to do with us?" I said. - -"You listen to me, my dear; things are so grave that I can scarcely -smile, and you are so ignorant, Westenra." - -"Well," I said, "do tell me about Mr. Pattens." - -"He is the butcher, dear, and we owe him over a hundred pounds, and he -is positively desperate. He asked to see me, and of course I saw him, -and then he said he _must_ see your mother." - -"See mother? But mother never sees the tradespeople." - -"I know, love; but it was with the utmost difficulty I could keep him -from not seeing her. He said that she was responsible for his account, -and that if I would not let him see her he would do the other thing." - -"What?" I asked, "what?" - -"Well, my dear, it is coming, and you may as well bear it. There will -be a bailiff in this house in no time. Yes, there'll be a man in -possession, and how is your mother to stand that? You think whether -you would rather just tell your grand friend the Duchess, and save -your mother from the depths of humiliation, or whether you will let -things take their course. Pattens is desperate, and he is the sort of -man who will have no mercy. I have had to get the meat from another -butcher--we can't hold out much longer. I have paid away the last -shilling of the reserve fund I had in the bank. Oh dear, oh dear! why -did Mr. Randolph go away? If he has gone down in the _Star of Hope_, -why truly it is black night for us." - -"I will do my best, Jane, and do keep up heart; and oh, Jane, keep -mother in her room, she must not know, she must not meet this terrible -danger. O Jane! do your best." - -"I will, love. Even at the very worst day dawns but it is black night -at present, that it is," said the faithful creature. - -As I was going out who did I see standing on the threshold but Mrs. -Fanning. Mrs. Fanning had been away for over a fortnight, and I must -say we greatly enjoyed her absence, and I in particular enjoyed it; -but when I saw her comely, good-humoured, beaming face now, it seemed -to me that my heart went out to her. She looked at me, and then she -opened her arms wide. - -"Come to me, you dear little soul," she said; "come and have a hearty -hug." She clasped me tightly, and kissed me over and over again. - -"I am only back an hour," she said. "And how is Albert?" - -"I have not seen Mr. Fanning this morning," I answered, and I tried to -disengage myself from those cheery arms. - -"Dear, dear, you don't look at all the thing," she said; "there's the -brougham outside, would not you like a drive, honey? You and I might -go out by ourselves. Come, dearie." - -"No, thank you," I answered, "I am going on some special business for -mother." - -"Then whatever it is, can't you make use of the brougham? It was all -built and painted to suit your style, love, and why should not you -make use of it? Albert would be that proud." - -"Oh, indeed he would not, Mrs. Fanning; but please do not speak of it, -I cannot, I really cannot." - -"Well, if you won't, you won't," said the good woman. "I have come -back, though, and I hope to see a good deal of you; I have got lots -to tell you. I have been collecting early reminiscences." - -"Of what?" I could not help asking. - -"Of Albert's babyhood and childhood, they are that touching. I found a -little diary he used to keep. I declare I laughed and I cried over it. -We'll read it together this evening. Now then, off you go, and do get -some colour back into your pale cheeks; you are quite the prettiest, -most graceful, most h'aristocratic young lady I ever saw; but you are -too pale now, you really are." - -I did not say any more; I grasped Mrs. Fanning's hand. - -"How is your dear mother?" she said. - -"Mother is not at all well." - -"Ah, poor dear, poor dear," said Mrs. Fanning; "then no wonder your -cheeks are pale. I said to Albert the very last night I left, 'Albert, -if you win her, she's worth her weight in gold, it is a gold heart she -has; you watch her with her mother, Albert, and think what she'll be -to you.'" - -"Mrs. Fanning, you really must not talk in that way," I said. "Please -let me go." - -She did let me go. My contact with her had slightly braced me. I felt -angry once more with the terrible Albert; but Mrs. Fanning was -kindness itself. Oh, if only Albert had been a different man, and I -had really cared for him, and I--but why think of the impossible. - -I got into an omnibus, and gave the man directions to put me down at -the nearest point to the Duchess's house. I found myself echoing Jane -Mullins's words, "Why had Jim Randolph gone away?" - -I arrived at the Duchess's in good time. I had made up my mind to tell -her all. She must lend us a thousand pounds. Mother must be saved; -mother must be kept in the dark as to the utter ruin of my mad plan. I -whispered the story as I would tell it to my old friend over and over -to myself, and when I mounted the steps of the house and rang the bell -I was trembling, and felt very faint and tired. The footman opened the -door, and I inquired for her Grace. - -"Can I see her?" I said. "I am Miss Wickham; I want to see her on very -special business." - -"I will mention that you have called, madam," replied the man; "but -her Grace is not visible, she is very ill. She has been in bed for -several days, and the doctor is with her. It is influenza." - -Then, indeed, I felt my last hopes tottering. - -"I am sorry her Grace is ill," I said. I paused for a moment to -consider. "Can I see Miss Mitford?" I inquired then. Miss Mitford was -a lady who did some correspondence for the Duchess, and who was -generally to be found in the house. - -Miss Mitford came downstairs immediately, and I saw her in a small -room to the left of the great hall. - -"It is the shock about Mr. Randolph," she said at once. - -"Then is it really supposed that he was drowned in the _Star of -Hope_?" I cried. - -"He mentioned that he was coming to England by that boat," replied -Miss Mitford. "The Duchess is certain that he is amongst the -passengers, although his name has not been mentioned as yet in any -list. Her Grace is terribly upset, more particularly as Mr. Severn, -Sir Henry Severn's only son, died a fortnight ago. There is great -confusion, and Mr. Randolph ought to be back." - -I did not ask any questions with regard to this latter news, nor did -it interest me in the very least. Of course Mr. Randolph ought to be -back, but for very very different reasons. I went sorrowfully, oh so -sorrowfully, away. - -When I returned home Jane was waiting for me in the hall. She was -hovering about, looking very untidy and very anxious. - -"Well," she said; "come in here, I must speak to you." - -"But it is luncheon time," I said, "and people will wonder." - -"Let them wonder. Did you see her? Did she promise to lend it? That -man has been here again. He is desperate, and says that if he is not -paid in two days he will put in the bailiff." - -"And what will that mean?" I asked. - -"Ruin--utter and complete. But tell me, did you see the Duchess?" - -"I did not," I answered; "she is ill in bed; and oh, Jane, it is the -shock about Mr. Randolph which has caused her illness. The Duchess is -quite sure that he did sail in the _Star of Hope_. O Jane! what is to -be done?" - -"God only knows," answered Jane Mullins; "we are up a tree, and that's -the truth." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -THE MAN IN POSSESSION - - -I cannot exactly say how the next two days went by. Even in a crisis, -people get more or less accustomed to the thundercloud overhead, and -the feeling of insecurity below. I still found that I could eat, I -could walk, I could even sleep. I still found that I could be calm in -my mother's presence, and could say little funny nothings to amuse -her; and I sat in such a position, that she did not see the shadow -growing and growing on my face, and the guests did not suspect -anything. Why should they? They were enjoying all the good things of -my most miserable failure. - -Jane, however, never appeared in the drawing-room now; she left the -entertaining of the visitors to me. She told me boldly that I must -take it on me; that it was the least I could do, and I did take it on -me, and dressed my best, and talked my best, and sang songs for our -visitors in the evenings when my own heart was breaking. - -Captain and Mrs. Furlong were very kind. They noticed how, more and -more often, mother was absent from meals, and how the colour was -paling from my cheeks with anxiety for her. It was truly anxiety for -her, but they did not guess what principally caused it. - -On the evening of the third day I hurried into the dining-room just -before dinner. I quite forgot what I had gone for. It had been a -brilliant May day, but in the evening a fog had come on--a heavy sort -of cloud overhead, and there was a feeling of thunder in the air, and -the atmosphere was close. I remember that the windows of the -dining-room were wide open, and the long table was laid in its usual -dainty, and even sumptuous, manner for dinner. There were some vases -of flowers, and the plate, and china, the polished glass, the snowy -napery, all looked as tasteful, as fresh, as pretty, as heart could -desire. The guests were accustomed to this sort of table, and would -have been very angry if they had been asked to sit down at any other. - -Emma was hurrying in and out, putting final touches to the -preparations for the great meal. I thought she looked pale, and very -anxious, and just as I was entering the room she came up to me, and -said in a hurried whisper-- - -"If I were you, Miss Westenra, I wouldn't go in." - -"Why not?" I asked, "why should not I go into the dining-room?" - -She did not say any more; but as I insisted on going in, pushed past -me almost rudely, at least, I thought so at the moment, and went away, -shutting the door after her. Then I discovered the reason why she had -wished me not to go into the room. A little short man, stout and -podgy, in a greasy coat, and a greasy waistcoat, and a dirty tie, rose -as I entered. - -"Beg pardon, miss," he said. He was seated in a chair not far from the -window. He had a dirty newspaper on his lap, and by his side was a -glass which must have contained beer at one time, but was now empty. - -"I'm Scofield," he said, "Josiah Scofield at your service, miss. May I -ask, miss, if you're Miss Wickham?" - -"I am," I answered; "what are you doing here? Does Miss Mullins know -you are here?" - -"Yes, miss," answered the man in quite a humble, apologetic tone, "she -knows quite well I am here, and so do Emma, the servant; and so do the -other servants, and the reason why too, miss. It's on account of -Pattens, I'm here, miss; and I've come to stay, if you please." - -"To stay!" I echoed feebly, "to stay, why?" - -"You see, miss," continued the man; "this is how things is. You're the -daughter of the lady who owns this house, and I have heard that you -own it partly yourself; and it's this paper that justifies me, miss, -and I can't go out." - -As he spoke, he pulled a long, ugly, foolscap envelope out of his -pocket, and taking a paper from it, opened it, and showed it to me. I -saw something about _Victoria_, and _by the grace of God_, and some -other words in large, staring print, and then my own name, and my -mother's, and Jane Mullins'; and I thrust it back again. I could not -understand it, and I did not care to read any further. - -"I have heard of men like you," I said slowly; "but I have never seen -one of them before." - -The man was gazing at me with his queer, bloodshot eyes, full of the -strangest pity. - -"It must be a horrid profession for you," I said suddenly. I could not -help myself; at that moment I seemed to forget my own trouble in -sorrow for the man who had to do such dirty work. Was my brain going? - -Scofield did not answer my last remark. He put it aside as too foolish -to require a reply. - -"A very pretty young lady," I heard him mutter, "and I'm that sorry -for her." He looked me all over. - -"Now, miss," he said, "there are two ways of taking a man of my sort." - -I nodded my head. - -"There's the way of succumbing like, and going into hysterics, and -making no end of a scene, and the man stays on all the same, and the -neighbours get wind of it, and the ruin's complete in no time, so to -speak. 'Taint nothing much of a bill that's owed to Pattens, and even -if half of it was to be paid, I have not the slightest doubt that -Pattens would take me out and give you a bit more time; but there's -no use in quarrelling with me, nor telling me to go, for go I won't, -and can't. I had my orders, and I'm the man in possession. You have -got to face that fact, miss." - -"But you spoke of two ways," I said. "What is the way which is -not--not quite so hopeless?" - -"Ah!" said the man, rubbing his hands, "now, we are coming to our -senses, we are. Now I can manage matters fine." - -I glanced at the clock. It was already seven o'clock, and we dined at -half-past. The air outside seemed to grow heavier and heavier, and the -sky to grow darker, and I expected the thunder to roll, and the -lightning to flash at any moment: but what did external things matter. -There was a storm in my heart which kept out the sound, and the -meaning of external storms. - -"Mother! mother!" I kept murmuring under my breath, "this will kill -you, mother. O Mother! and it has been my fault. My wild, wild scheme -has come to this!" - -I felt so ill, that I could scarcely keep upright, and yet I could not -sit in the presence of that man. The next moment everything in the -room seemed to go round, and I was obliged to totter towards a chair. -I think I lost consciousness, for when I came to myself, I found the -little dirty greasy man had brought me a glass of water, and was -standing near. - -"You pluck up heart, child," he said, "there now, you're better. This -is not the first nor the second time I have been in a house as big as -this, and just as grand and full of visitors, and everything seemingly -as right as possible, and the house undermined. I've seen scores of -times like this, and pretty misses, like you, cut to the heart. It's a -nasty trade is mine, but we all must live, my dear, and I'm truly -sorry for you, and now, if you'll just let me advise you?" - -"What?" I asked, "what?" - -"You don't want the guests to know as I'm here?" - -"Of course not." - -"I must stay, and the servants had better know as little about me as -possible. Of course, they have seen me already, but anyhow it is a -sort of disguise that is commonly managed, and I had better do it." - -"What do you mean?" I cried. - -"My son, Robert, will be round directly. He often comes to me when I -am in possession; I expect by the same token that's his ring I hear -now. If you'll give me five shillings, miss, I'll do just what you -want, and nobody need guess." - -"But what? what?" I asked. - -"Bob is bringing me my servant's livery, miss, and I'll attend at -table to-night as your new man-servant. I look extremely well in -livery, and I have often attended in the houses of gentry just as -grand as yourself. Have you got five shillings in your pocket, miss? -I have to earn my bread, and I can't do it for less. Nobody will guess -who I am, and why I am here, if you'll give me that five shillings." - -"Take it, take it," I cried. I thrust two half-crowns into his palm, -and fled from the room. In the hall I found that I had run almost into -the arms of Mr. Fanning. - -"Why, Miss Wickham," he cried. He caught my hand to keep me from -falling; "why, my dear, what is the matter?" he said then; there was a -world of affection and sympathy in his voice, but I hated him for -speaking to me thus. - -"I have been feeling ill," I said, "I cannot go down to dinner." - -"But what is wrong?" he said. He backed towards the dining-room door, -and I did not want him to go in. He was so sharp; he would know at -once what that little greasy man meant. I knew by his manner, and by -hints that his mother had dropped, that they were both of them by no -means in the dark with regard to our affairs. He must not go into the -dining-room. - -"Don't go in; come upstairs with me," I said. - -"Oh, that I will, with pleasure," he answered, delighted at my tone, -"and if you are really ill we must get the doctor. We cannot allow you -to be really ill, you know, that would never do. I am very fond of -nice girls like you; but they must keep their health, oh yes, they -must. Now you are better, that is right. It's this horrid air, and -the storm coming on. You want the country. It's wonderfully fresh at -Highgate; splendid air; so bracing. I have been out at my place this -afternoon, and I cannot tell you what a difference there is. It is -like another climate." - -"Then why don't you stay in your place?" I could not help answering. -"What is it for, if you do not live there?" - -"I won't live in it, Miss Wickham, until I bring my wife there to bear -me company. But now if you are ill, do go to your room and rest; only -come down to dinner, pray. I never could do with hysterical girls; but -run upstairs and rest, there's a good child." - -I left him, went to my attic, shut and locked the door, and threw -myself on the ground. O God! the misery of that hour, the bitter -blackness of it. But I must not give way; I must appear at dinner. -Whatever happened I must not give way. - -I got up, arranged my hair, washed my face and hands, dressed myself -in the first evening dress I came across, and went downstairs. The -beautiful little silver gong sounded, and we all trooped down to the -dining-room. There were pleased smiles among the guests. The room was -crowded. Every seat at the long table had its occupant. Several fresh -paying guests had arrived, and there was the little man in livery -helping Emma to wait. How pleased the old paying guests were to see -him. The new paying guests took him as a matter of course. Mrs. -Armstrong, in particular, nodded to Miss Armstrong, and bent across to -Mr. Fanning and said-- - -"I am so pleased to see that poor Emma is getting a little help at -last." And Mr. Fanning looked at me and gave me a broad, perceptible -wink. I almost felt as if I must go under the table, but I kept up my -courage as people do sometimes when they are at the stake, for truly -it was like that to me. But mother was there, looking so sweet and -fragile, and a little puzzled by the new waiter's appearance. - -"What is your name?" I heard her say to him as he brought her some -vegetables, and he replied in a smug, comfortable voice, "Robert, -ma'am." And then she asked him to do one or two things, just as she -would have asked our dear little page in the old days which had -receded, oh! so far, into the background of my life. - -That evening, in the drawing-room, Mrs. Fanning came up to me. - -"They are all talking about Robert," she said. - -She sat down, shading me by her own portly figure from the gaze of any -more curious people. - -"You shan't sing to-night," she said; "you're not fit for it, and I -for one won't allow it. I told Albert I'd look after you. We'll have -to make excuses to-morrow when _he's_ not here." - -"When who is not here?" I asked. - -"The man they call Robert, who waited at dinner to-night." - -"But he'll be here to-morrow," I said; "you know he will; you know it, -don't you?" - -She bent a little closer, and took my hand. - -"Ah, dearie, my dearie," she said. "I have been low down once. It was -before Albert the first made his fortune. I have been through tight -times, and I know all about it. There, my dearie, take heart, don't -you be fretting; but he won't be here to-morrow, my love." - -"But he will," I said. - -"He won't, darling. I know what I'm talking about. We must make -excuses when he goes. We must say that he wasn't _exactly_ the sort of -servant Jane Mullins wanted, and that she is looking out for a smarter -sort of man. Don't you fret yourself over it, my darling." - -"Oh! I feel very sick and very tired," I cried. "Mrs. Fanning, will -you make some excuse for me to mother? I must go upstairs and lie -down." - -"I'll have a talk with your mother, and I'll not let out a thing to -her," said Mrs. Fanning, "and I'll take you up and put you right into -bed myself. I declare you do want a little bit of mothering from a -woman who has got abundant strength. Your own poor, dear mother would -do it if she could, but she hasn't got the strength of a fly. I am -very strong, dear, owing to Dr. Williams' Pink Pills, bless the man!" - -Just at that moment Mr. Fanning came up. - -He bent his tall, awkward figure towards his mother, and I distinctly -heard the odious word "Robert," and then Mrs. Fanning took my hand and -led me out of the drawing-room. She was very kind, and she helped me -to get into bed, and when I was in bed she took my hand and said she -was not going to stir until I fell asleep. - -"For I have been through these times, my dear, but the first time is -the worst of all," said the good woman, and she held my hand tightly, -and in spite of myself her presence comforted me and I did drop -asleep. - -The next morning when I went down to breakfast I could not see any -sign of Robert. Immediately afterwards I went into Jane's room. - -"Where is the man in possession?" I said bitterly. - -Jane's face looked a little relieved. - -"Haven't you heard?" she said; "he has gone. It was Mr. Fanning who -did it. He paid the bill in full, and the man has gone. He went last -night. Mr. Fanning is arranging the whole thing, and the man in -possession won't come back, that is, for the present. I begin to see -daylight. I am glad you have made up your mind to be sensible, -Westenra." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -ALBERT - - -I was so stunned I could not speak at all for a minute, then I said, -after a brief pause-- - -"Do you know if Mr. Fanning is in?" - -"No, why should he be in?" replied Miss Mullins in an almost irritable -voice, "he has got his work to do if you have not. Men who are -generous on the large scale on which he is generous, cannot afford to -be idle--that is, if they are going on adding to their fortunes. He is -out and probably in the city, he is a great publisher, you know, and -extremely successful. For my part, I respect him; he may be a rough -diamond, but he is a diamond all the same." - -Still I did not speak, and I am sure my silence, and the stunned -subdued heavy expression on my face, vexed Jane more than any amount -of words I might have uttered. - -"I will go and see if he has really gone," I said. "It is sometimes -quite late before he starts for the city, I want to speak to him at -once." - -"Now, Westenra, if you in this crisis make mischief," began Miss -Mullins. - -"Oh, I won't make mischief," I said, "but I must speak to Mr. -Fanning." - -I had almost reached the door when she called me back. - -"One moment," she said. - -I turned, impatiently. - -"Please don't keep me, Jane, I must see Mr. Fanning before he goes to -the city--I will come back afterwards." - -"If I wasn't almost sure what you are going to say to Mr. Fanning, I -would let you go," said Jane, "but you ought to know--your mother was -very ill, worse than I have ever seen her before, last night." - -"Mother ill in the night, and you never told me!" The greater trouble -seemed to swallow up the lesser, and for the time I forgot Mr. -Fanning, the man in possession, and everything in the world except -mother herself. - -"She had a sharp attack," continued Jane, "rigors and extreme -weakness. I happened most fortunately to go into her room about -midnight, and found her in an alarming state. Dr. Anderson was -summoned. She is better, much better, but not up yet." - -"But, Jane, why, why did you not wake me?" - -"I should, dear, if there had been real danger, but she quickly -recovered. You looked so ill yourself last night, that I had not the -heart to disturb your sleep. And there is no danger at present, no -fresh danger, that is. Unless something happens to cause her a sudden -shock, she is comparatively well, but it behoves you, Westenra, to be -careful." - -"And suppose I am not careful," I said, a sudden defiance coming into -my voice. - -"In that case----" said Miss Mullins. She did not finish her sentence. -She looked full at me, raised her hands expressively, and let them -fall to her sides. - -Nothing could be more full of meaning than her broken sentence, her -action, and the expression of her face. - -"But you could not deliberately do it," she said slowly, "you could -not expose a mother like yours to----" - -"Of course I could do nothing to injure mother," I said, "I will try -and be patient; but Jane, Jane, do you know really what this means? -Can you not guess that there are things that even for a mother, a -dying mother, a girl ought not to do?" - -"I do not see that," answered Jane deliberately; "no, I do not, not -from your point of view. You can do what is required, and you can bear -it." - -I knew quite well what she meant. She did not call me back this time -when I left the room. I heard her mutter to herself--her words -startled me--putting a new sort of sudden light on all our miserable -affairs. - -"My little home gone too," I heard her mutter, "ruin for me too, for -me too." - -I stood for a moment in the dark passage outside Jane's room. There -was no one there, and I could think. I did not want to go into the big -hall, nor to run up the staircase. I might meet some of those -smiling, well satisfied, delighted and delightful paying guests, those -paying guests who were ruining us all the time. Yes, I knew at last -what Jane meant, what Mrs. Fanning meant, what Albert Fanning meant. -We would be relieved from our embarrassments, mother would receive no -shock _if I promised to marry Albert Fanning_. Albert Fanning would -save the position, he would pay the necessary debts; he was rich, and -for love of me he would not mind what he did. Yes, I supposed it was -love for me. I did not know, of course. I could not fancy for a moment -that a girl like myself could excite any feeling of worship in a man -like Albert Fanning, but anyhow, for whatever reason, he wanted me -(and he did want me), he was willing to pay this big price for me. My -heart trembled, my spirit quaked. I stood in the luxury of the dark -passage, clasped my hands to my brow, and then determined not to give -way, to be brave to the very end. - -I ran upstairs and entered the drawing-room. It was tidy, in perfect -order. I was glad to find no one there. I went and stood under -father's picture. I gazed full up at the resolute, brave, handsome -face. - -"You died to win your V.C.," I said to myself, and then I turned to -leave the room. I met Mrs. Furlong coming in. - -"Ah, dear child," she said, "I am so glad to see you. But what is the -matter? You don't look well." - -"I am anxious," I answered; "mother had a very serious attack last -night." - -"We are all full of concern about her," replied Mrs. Furlong. "Won't -you sit down for a moment? I wish to talk to you. Ah, here comes my -husband. Philip, we have bad news about dear Mrs. Wickham, she was -very ill last night." - -"Your mother, Miss Wickham, is very far from strong," said Captain -Furlong. He came and stood near me; he looked full of sympathy. He was -very nice and kind and gentlemanly. He had been kind and courteous, -and unselfish, ever since he came to the house. - -"You are very good, both of you," I said. "I am going to mother now; -please, don't keep me." - -"But is there anything we can do? Would change be of service to her?" -said Mrs. Furlong. "I know it is a little early in the year, but the -spring is coming on nicely, and she must weary so of London, -particularly this part of London; she has been accustomed to such a -different life." - -"I do not think our present life has injured her," I said. "She has -not had any of the roughing. Things have been made smooth and pleasant -and bright for her." - -"All the same, it has been a very, very great change for her," said -Mrs. Furlong. "It has been good neither for her nor for you. Yes, -Philip," she continued, noticing a warning expression on her -husband's face, "I have got my opportunity, and I will speak out. I -am quite certain the sooner Westenra Wickham, and her dear mother, -leave this boarding-house the better it will be for both of them. What -has a young, innocent girl, like Westenra, to do with paying guests? -Oh, if they were all like you and me, dear, it would be different; but -they are not all like us, and there's that"--she dropped her voice. -Captain Furlong shook his head. - -"Miss Wickham has accepted the position, and I do not see how she can -desert her post," he said. - -"Never fear, be sure I will not," I answered; "but please--please, -kind friends, don't keep me now." - -"There is just one thing I should like to say before you go, Miss -Wickham," said Captain Furlong; "if you find yourself in trouble of -any sort whatever, pray command both my wife and myself. I have seen a -good deal of life in my day. My wife and I are much interested, both -in you and your mother. Now, for instance," he added, dropping his -voice, "I know about tight times; we all of us get more or less into a -tight corner, now and then--if a fifty pound note would----" - -"Oh no, it would not do anything," I cried. My face was crimson; my -heart seemed cut in two. - -"Oh! how can I thank you enough?" I added; and I ran up to the kind -man and seized his hands. I could almost have kissed them in my pain -and gratitude. "It would be useless, quite useless, but I shall never -forget your kindness." - -I saw the good-natured pair look at one another, and Mrs. Furlong -shook her head wisely; and I am sure a dewy moisture came to her eyes, -but I did not wait to say anything more, but ran off in the direction -of mother's room. A softened light filled that chamber, where all that -refinement and love could give surrounded the most treasured -possession of my life. Mother was lying in bed propped up by pillows. -She looked quite as well as usual, and almost sweeter than I had ever -seen her look, and she smiled when I came in. - -"Well, little girl," she said, "you are late in paying me your visit -this morning?" - -"It was very wrong of you, mother, not to send for me when you were so -ill last night," I answered. - -"Oh, that time," said mother, "it seems ages off already, and I am -quite as well as usual. I have got a kind nurse to look after me now. -Nurse Marion, come here." - -I could not help giving a visible start. Were things so bad with -mother that she required the services of a trained nurse? A comely, -sweet-faced, young woman of about thirty years of age, now approached -from her seat behind the curtain. - -"The doctor sent me in, Miss Wickham; he thought your mother would be -the better for constant care for two or three days." - -"I am very glad you have come," I answered. - -"Oh, it is so nice," said mother; "Nurse Marion has made me -delightfully comfortable; and is not the room sweet with that -delicious old-fashioned lavender she uses, and with all those spring -flowers?" - -"I have opened the window, too," said the nurse, "the more air the -dear lady gets the better for her; but now, Miss Wickham, I cannot -allow your mother to talk. Will you come back again; or, if you stay, -will you be very quiet?" - -"As you are here to look after mother I will come back again," I said. -I bent down, kissed the lily white hand which lay on the counterpane, -and rushed from the room. Stabs of agony were going through my heart, -and yet I must not give way! - -I ran upstairs, and knocked at Mrs. Fanning's door. As Albert Fanning -was out, I was determined to see her. There was no reply to my -summons, and after a moment I opened the door and looked in. The room -was empty. I went to my own room, sat down for a moment, and tried to -consider how things were tending with me, and what the end would be. -Rather than mother should suffer another pang, I would marry Albert -Fanning. But must it come to this! - -I put on my outdoor things, and ran downstairs. The closeness and -oppression of the day before had changed into a most balmy and -delicious spring morning; a sort of foretaste day of early summer. I -was reckless, my purse was very light, but what did that matter. I -stopped a hansom, got into it, and gave the man Albert Fanning's -address in Paternoster Row. Was I mad to go to him--to beard the lion -in his den? I did not know; I only knew that sane or mad, I must do -what I had made up my mind to do. - -The hansom bowled smoothly along, and I sat back in the farthest -corner, and tried to hope that no one saw me. A pale, very slender, -very miserable girl was all that they would have seen; the grace gone -from her, the beauty all departed; a sort of wreck of a girl, who had -made a great failure of her life, and of the happiness of those -belonging to her. Oh, if only the past six or eight months could be -lived over again, how differently would I have spent them! The cottage -in the country seemed now to be a sort of paradise. If only I could -take mother to it, I would be content to be buried away from the eyes -of the world for evermore. But mother was dying; there would be no -need soon for any of us to trouble about her future, for God Himself -was taking it into His own hands, and had prepared for her a mansion, -and an unfading habitation. - -I scarcely dared think of this. Be the end long, or be the end short, -during the remaining days or weeks of her existence, she must not be -worried, she must go happily, securely, confidently, down to the -Valley. That was the thought, the only thought which stayed with me, -as I drove as fast as I could in the direction of Mr. Fanning's place -of business. - -The cab was not allowed to go up the Row, so I paid my fare at the -entrance, and then walked to my destination. I knew the number well, -for Albert had mentioned it two or three times in my hearing, having -indeed often urged me to go and see him. I stopped therefore at the -right place, looked up, saw the name of Albert Fanning in huge letters -across the window, opened the door and entered. I found myself in a -big, book saloon, and going up to a man asked if Mr. Fanning were in. -The man was one of those smart sort of clerks, who generally know -everybody's business but their own. He looked me all over in a -somewhat quizzical way, and then said-- - -"Have you an appointment, miss?" - -"I have not," I replied. - -"Our chief, Mr. Fanning, never sees ladies without appointments." - -"I think he will see me," I answered, "he happens to know me. Please -say that Miss Westenra Wickham has called to see him." - -The clerk stared at me for a moment. - -"Miss West! what Wickham Miss? Perhaps you wouldn't mind writing it -down." - -I did not want to write down my name, but I did so; I gave it to the -clerk, who withdrew, smiling to a brother clerk as he did so. He came -back in a minute or two, looking rather red about the face, and went -back to his seat without approaching me, and at the same time I heard -heavy, ungainly steps rushing downstairs, and Mr. Fanning, in his -office coat, which was decidedly shabby, and almost as greasy as the -one which belonged to the "Man in Possession" on the previous evening, -entered the saloon. His hair stood wildly up on his head, and his blue -eyes were full of excitement. He came straight up to me. - -"I say, this is a pleasure," he exclaimed, "and quite unlooked for. -Pray, come upstairs at once, Miss Wickham. I am delighted to see -you--delighted. Understand, Parkins," he said, addressing the clerk -who had brought my message, "that I am engaged for the present, -absolutely engaged, and can see _no one_. Now, Miss Wickham, now." - -He ushered me as if I were a queen through the saloon, past the -wondering and almost tittering clerks, and up some winding stairs to -his own sanctum on the first floor. - -"Cosy, eh?" he said, as he opened the door, and showed me a big -apartment crowded with books of every shape and size, and heavily, and -at the same time, handsomely furnished. "Not bad for a city man's -office, eh?" he continued, "all the books are amusing; you might like -to dip into 'em by-and-by, nothing deep or dull, or stodgy here, all -light, frothy, and merry. Nothing improving, all entertaining. That is -how my father made his fortune; and that is how I, Albert the second, -as the mater calls me, intend to go on adding to my fortune. It is on -light, frothy, palatable morsels that I and my wife will live in the -future, eh, eh? You're pleased with the look of the place, ain't you. -Now then, sit right down here facing the light, so that I can have a -good view of you. You're so young; you have not a wrinkle on you. It's -the first sign of age coming on when a girl wishes to sit with her -back to the light, but you are young, and you can stand the full -glare. Here, you take the office chair. Isn't it comfortable? That's -where I have sat for hours and hours, and days and days; and where my -father sat before me. How well you'd look interviewing authors and -artists when they come here with their manuscripts. But there! I -expect you'd be a great deal too kind to them. A lot of rubbish you -would buy for the firm of Fanning & Co., wouldn't you now, eh? Ah, -it's you that has got a tender little heart, and Albert Fanning has -been one of the first to find it out." - -I could not interrupt this rapid flow of words, and sat in the chair -indicated, feeling almost stunned. At last he stopped, and gazing at -me, said-- - -"Well, and how _is_ Miss Westenra Wickham, and what has brought her to -visit her humble servant? Out with it now, the truth, please." - -Still I could find no words. At last, however, I said almost shyly-- - -"You have been kind, more than kind, but I came here to tell you, you -must not do it." - -"Now that's a pretty sort of thing to bring you here," said Mr. -Fanning. "Upon my soul, that's a queer errand. I have been kind, -forsooth! and I am not to be kind in the future. And pray why should I -turn into an evil, cruel sort of man at your suggestion, Miss Wickham? -Why should I, eh? Am I to spoil my fine character because you, a -little slip of a girl, wish it so?" - -"You must listen to me," I said; "you do not take me seriously, but -you must. This is no laughing matter." - -"Oh, I am to talk sense, am I? What a little chit it is! but it is a -dear little thing in its way, although saucy. It's trying to come -round me and to teach me. Well, well, I don't mind owning that you can -turn me with a twist of your little finger wherever you please. You -have the most bewitching way with you I ever saw with any girl. It has -bowled Albert Fanning over, that it has. Now, then, what have you -really come for?" - -"You paid the bill of Pattens the butcher either this morning or last -night, why did you do it?" - -Mr. Fanning had the grace to turn red when I said this. He gave me -even for a moment an uncomfortable glance, then said loudly-- - -"But you didn't surely want that fellow Robert to stay on?" - -"That is quite true," I replied, "but I still less want you, Mr. -Fanning, to pay our debts. You did very wrong to take such a liberty -without my permission, very, very wrong." - -"To tell you the honest truth, I never wished you to know about it," -said Mr. Fanning. "Who blurted it out?" - -"Jane Mullins, of course, told me." - -"Ah, I mentioned to the mater that it would be very silly to confide -in that woman, and now the little mater has done no end of mischief. -She has set your back up and--but there, you were bound to know of it -sooner or later. Of course the butcher's is not the only bill I must -pay, and you were bound to know, of course. I don't really mind that -you do know. It's a great relief to you, ain't it now?" - -"It is not a great relief, and what is more I cannot allow it." - -"You cannot allow it?" - -"No." - -Mr. Fanning now pulled his chair up so close to mine that his knees -nearly touched me. I drew back. - -"You needn't be afraid that I'll come closer," he said almost sulkily, -"you know quite well what I feel about you, Miss Wickham, for I have -said it already. I may have a few more words to deliver on that point -by-and-by, but now what I want to say is this, that I won't force any -one to come to me except with a free heart. Nobody, not even you--not -even _you_--although, God knows, you are like no one else on earth, -shall come to me except willingly. I never met any one like you -before, so dainty, so fair so pretty--oh, so very pretty, and such a -sweet girl and, upon my word, you can make just anything of me. But -there, the time for love-making has not yet come, and you have -something ugly to say in the back of your head, I see the thought -shining out of your eyes. Oh, however hard you may feel, and however -much pain you mean to give me, you cannot make those eyes of yours -look ugly and forbidding. Now I am prepared to listen." - -He folded his arms across his chest and looked full at me. He was in -such great and desperate earnest that he was not quite so repellant as -usual. I could not but respect him, and I found it no longer difficult -to speak freely to him. - -"I come as a woman to appeal to a man," I said. "You are a man and I -am a woman, we stand on equal ground. You would not like your sister, -had you a sister, to do what you want me to do. I appeal to you on -behalf of that sister who does not exist." - -He tried to give a laugh, but it would not rise to his lips. - -"As you justly remarked," he said, "I have not got a sister." - -"But you know, you must know, Mr. Fanning, what you would feel if you -had a sister, and she allowed a man who was no relation, no relation -whatever, to take her debts and pay them. What would you think of your -sister?" - -"I'd say the sooner she and that chap married the better," was Mr. -Fanning's blunt response; "they'd be relations then fast enough, eh, -eh? I think I have about answered you, Miss Wickham." - -"But suppose she did not want to marry that man; suppose she had told -him that she never would marry him; suppose he knew perfectly well in -his heart that she could not marry him, because she had not a spark of -love to give him?" - -"But I don't suppose anything of the sort," said Mr. Fanning, and now -his face grew white, uncomfortably white, and I saw his lips -trembling. - -"There now," he said, "you have had your say, and it is my turn. I see -perfectly well what you are driving at. You think I have taken an -unfair advantage of you, but this was the position. I knew all about -it, I had seen it coming for some time. Jane Mullins had dropped hints -to mother, and mother had dropped hints to me, and, good gracious! I -could tell for myself. I am a man of business; I knew exactly what -each of the boarders paid. I knew exactly or nearly to a nicety, and -if I didn't my mother did, what the dinners cost which we ate night -after night in your dining-room, and what the furniture must have -cost, and what the breakfast cost, and the hundred and one things -which were necessary to keep up an establishment of that kind, and I -said to the mater, 'Look you here, mater, the incomings are so and so, -and the outgoings are so and so, and a smash is _inevitable_. It will -come sooner or later, and it is my opinion it will come sooner, not -later.' The mater agreed with me, for she is shrewd enough, and we -both thought a great deal of you, and a great deal of your mother. We -knew that although you were dainty in your ways, and belonged to a -higher social class than we did (we are never going, either of us, to -deny that), we knew that you were ignorant of these things, and had -not our wisdom, and we thought Jane Mullins was a bit of a goose to -have launched in such a hopeless undertaking. But, of course, as the -mater said, she said it many, many times, 'There may be money at the -back of this thing, Albert, and if there is they may pull through.' -But when Mr. Randolph went off in that fine hurry last winter, we -found out all too quickly that there was no money at the back, and -then, of course, the result was inevitable. - -"I expected Pattens to send a man in, for I had met him once or twice, -and he told me that his bill was not paid, and that he did not mean to -supply any more meat, and what Pattens said the baker and greengrocer -said too, and so did Allthorp the grocer, and so did the fishmonger, -Merriman, and so did all the other tradespeople, and if one spoke to -me, so did they all. I have paid Pattens, but that is not enough. -Pattens won't trouble you any more, his man has gone, but there is -Merriman's man to come on, and there is Allthorp's man, and there are -all the others, and then, above and beyond all, there's the landlord, -Mr. Hardcastle. Why, the March quarter's rent has not been paid yet, -and that is a pretty big sum. So, my dear young lady, things _cannot_ -go on, and what is to be done? Now there's the question--what is to be -done?" - -I stared at him with frightened eyes. It was perfectly true that I -knew nothing whatever about business. I had imagined myself -business-like, and full of common sense, but I found in this extreme -moment that my business qualities were nowhere, and that this -hard-headed and yet honest man of the world was facing the position -for me, and seeing things as I ought to see them. - -"What is to be done?" he repeated. "Are you going to have the bed on -which your mother sleeps sold under her, and she dying, or are you -not? I can help you, I have plenty of money, I have a lot of loose -cash in the bank which may as well go in your direction as any other. -Shall I spend it for you, or shall I not?" - -"But if you do--if you do," I faltered, "what does it mean?" - -"Mean!" he said, and now a queer light came into his eyes, and he drew -nearer again, and bending forward tried to take my hand. I put it -hastily behind me. - -"I'll be frank," he said, "I'll be plain, _it means you_." - -"I cannot, oh! I cannot," I said. I covered my face with both my -hands; I was trembling all over. - -"Give me your promise," he said, dropping his voice very low, "just -give me your promise. I'll not hurry you a bit. Give me your promise -that in the future, say in a year (I'll give you a whole year, yes I -will, although it goes hard with me)--say in a year, you will be mine, -you'll come to me as my little wife, and I won't bother you, upon my -soul I won't, before the time. I'll go away from 17 Graham Square, I -will, yes I will. The mater can stay, she likes looking after people, -and she is downright fond of you, but I won't worry you. Say you'll be -my little wife, and you need not have another care. The bills shall be -paid, and we'll close the place gradually. The boarding-house, on its -present terms, cannot go on, but we will close up gradually, and poor -old Miss Mullins need not be a pauper for the rest of her days. She's -a right down good sort, and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll start her -in a little boarding-house of a humble kind on my own hook. Yes, I -will, and she shall make a tidy fortune out of it. I'll do all that, -and for you, for _you_, and you have only got to promise." - -"But I cannot," I said, and now I began to sob. "Oh, I cannot. You -don't want a wife who doesn't love you at all." - -"Not even a little bit?" he said, and there was a pathetic ring in his -voice. "Aren't you sure that you love me just a very little bit? Well, -well, you will some day; you will when you know me better. I am a -very rough sort of diamond, Miss Wickham, but I am a diamond all the -same, if being true and honourable and honest and straightforward -means anything at all. I don't want to speak too well of myself, but I -do know that in my entire life I have never done a real mean or shabby -thing. I am an honest fellow out and out, Miss Wickham, and I offer -you all I have, and I will get you out of this scrape in a twinkling, -that I will. You thought, perhaps, your fine friend Mr. Randolph would -do it, but when he guessed how things were going he cut off fast -enough to the other side of the world." - -"I won't let you speak of him like that," I cried, and my voice rose -again with anger, and the pity I had felt for Mr. Fanning a moment ago -vanished as if it had never existed. "Mr. Randolph has been our true, -true friend, and he may be dead now. Oh, you are cruel to speak of him -like that!" - -"Very well, we won't talk of him. It is unkind to abuse the dead," -said Mr. Fanning in a low, considerate sort of voice. "He sailed, poor -chap, in the _Star of Hope_, and the _Star of Hope_ has been wrecked. -He will never come back to bother anybody again, so we won't talk of -him." - -I was silent. A cold, faint feeling was stealing over me. - -"Well, now, you listen to me," continued Mr. Fanning. "You think that -it is very hard on you that a man of my sort should want you to be his -wife, but men of my sort, when they make fortunes, often do marry -girls like you. I have a lot of money, Miss Wickham, plenty and -plenty, thousands upon thousands, and it's piling up every day. It is -the froth and the light literature that has done it--all those -picture-books, coloured, most of 'em, and those children's books, and -those nonsense rhymes, and all that sort of thing. We have huge sales -all over the world, and the money rolls in for Albert Fanning, and -Albert Fanning can marry about any girl he chooses. Why shouldn't he -take a wife a peg above him? It's done every day, and why should not -his wife be happy? What is there against that house at Highgate, for -instance, and what is there against the old woman? Is there an -honester or a better heart than hers?" - -"That is quite true; I really love your mother," I said. - -"Ah, that's a good girl, now." He laid his big hand on mine and gave -it a little pat. "And you'll be all right when you come to me; you'll -be as comfortable as possible. You'll soon get accustomed to me and my -ways." - -"But I can never, never come to you," I cried, shrinking away. "I -cannot make you that promise." - -"I won't take your answer now, and I have not done speaking yet. Do -you know that I have cared for you for a long time? I'll tell you how -it happened. I was in the Park one day, more than two years ago. I -had been in Germany, learning book-binding. There was nothing I did -not go into as far as my trade was concerned, and I had come back -again, and I was in the Park watching the fine folks. My pockets were -comfortably lined, and I had not a debt in the world, and I was -feeling pretty spry, you may be sure, and thinking, 'Albert Fanning, -the time has come for you to take a mate; the time has come for you -and your sweetheart to meet, and to have a right good time, and a -happy life afterwards.' And I was thinking which of the suburbs I'd -live in, and what sort of girl I'd have. Oh, there were plenty ready -to come to me for the asking, young girls, too, with rosy cheeks and -bright eyes. There was one, I never saw blacker eyes than hers; they -were as black as sloes, and I always admired black eyes, because I am -fair, you know, and the mater is fair. You always like your opposite -as a rule, and as these thoughts were coming to me, and I was thinking -of Susan Martin and her black eyes, and the merry laugh she had, and -her white teeth, who should come driving slowly by, in the midst of -all the other grand folks, but your little self. You were bending -forward, doing something for your mother, putting a shawl about her or -something, and you just gave the tiniest bit of a smile, and I saw a -gleam of your teeth, and I looked at your grey eyes; and, upon my -word, it was all over with me. I never knew there were girls like you -in existence before. I found myself turning at first white and then -red, and at first hot and then cold, and I followed that carriage as -fast as I could, and whenever I had a chance I took a glance at you. -Oh, you were high above me, far away from me, with people that I could -never have anything to do with; but I lost my heart to you, and Susan -Martin hadn't a chance. I found out from the mater that you were Miss -Wickham, and that your father had been a general officer in the army, -and you lived in Mayfair, and went into society; and often and often I -went into the Park to catch a glimpse of you, and I got the number of -your house, and sometimes I passed it by and looked up at the windows, -and once I saw you there; you were arranging some flowers. I just -caught the bend of your head, and I saw the shape of your throat, and -your straight profile, and the whole look of you, and my heart went -pitter-pat. I wasn't myself after I had caught a glimpse of you. You -filled all my world, and the old mater found out there was something -wrong. I am reserved about some things, and I didn't let it out to -her, but at last I did, and she said, 'Courage, Albert, courage. If -you want her, why shouldn't you have her? You have plenty of money, -and you're a right good sort.' And then all of a sudden one day the -mater came to me with news, no less news than this, that you, you -plucky little darling, were going to start a boarding-house on your -own account. After that, it was plain sailing." - -"She is poor," said the mother. "She and her mother have lost all -their money; they are down in the world, down on their luck, and they -are going to do this. So then we arranged that we'd come and live in -the boarding-house, and I began my courting in hot earnest, and -fortune has favoured me, Miss Wickham; fortune has favoured me, -Westenra, and oh! I love you, God knows how much, and I'd be a good -husband to you, and you should have your own way in everything. Won't -you think of it, Miss Wickham? Won't you?" - -I was silent. The tears were running down my cheeks, and I had no -voice to speak. I got up at last slowly. - -"Won't you think of it?" he said again. - -I shook my head. - -"Well, I tell you what," he said, turning very pale. "Don't give me -your answer now. Wait until this evening or to-morrow. I won't worry -you in the drawing-room to-night. I'll keep far away, and I'll try if -I can to keep everybody at bay--all those wolves, I mean, that are -surrounding you--and maybe you'll think better of it, for the position -is a very serious one; maybe you'll think better of it. And remember, -whatever happens, there ain't a fellow on earth would make you a -better husband than I shall, if you'll let me." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -THE BOND - - -I went slowly home. I walked all the way, I was glad of the exercise, -I wanted to tire my body in order that my mind should not think too -acutely. When I got in, it was lunch time. I went into the dining-room -without taking off my hat. Jane Mullins was there, as usual she was at -the foot of the table, she was busy carving, and she was chatting to -Mrs. Armstrong, and Mrs. Armstrong was looking somewhat mysterious, -and when she saw me she gave me a kindly nod, but I perceived the -curiosity in her eyes and turned my face away. - -Marion Armstrong was seldom in to lunch, she was at her School of Art -doing those drawings by which she hoped to win the hand of Albert -Fanning. But what chance had she of Albert Fanning? - -Mrs. Fanning was present, and she looked very stout and prosperous, -and mysterious and happy, and as I sat down, not far away from her, -she suddenly stretched her fat hand across the table and grasped mine -and said-- - -"How are you, dear, and how is your mother?" - -I answered that I hoped mother was better, and Captain and Mrs. -Furlong looked at me also with pity. I had never greater difficulty in -keeping my composure than I had during that awful meal, but I did eat -a cutlet when it was put on my plate, and I did manage to talk to my -neighbour, a new boarder who had come up from the country, and did not -know her way about anywhere. She was an excitable middle-aged lady of -between forty and fifty, and she asked questions which I was able to -answer, and helped me more than she knew to get through that terrible -meal. - -At last it was over and I went up to mother's room. To my great -astonishment it was empty. Where was mother? Was she better? What -could have happened? With a mingling of alarm and anticipation I ran -into the drawing-room. She was there in her old accustomed seat by the -window. She looked very much as usual. When she saw me she called me -over to her. - -"Are you surprised, West?" she said. - -"I am greatly surprised," I answered; "are you better, Mummy?" I bent -over her, calling her by the old childish, very childish name. She -laid her thin hand on mine, her hand was hot, but her face looked, -with the colour in her cheeks, and her eyes so feverishly bright, more -beautiful than I had ever seen it. I sat down near her. - -"You don't know how nice Nurse Marion has been," she said. "When she -found I really wished to get up, she did not oppose me, and she -dressed me so carefully, and I am not the least bit tired. I longed to -come into the drawing-room, I seem to have quite got over that attack; -you need not be anxious, West." - -"Very well, I won't be anxious," I answered; "I will sit close to you -here and read to you if you will let me." - -"I should love to hear you, darling. Read Whittier's poem, 'My Psalm.' -Some of the lines have been ringing in my head all day, and I always -like the sort of cadence in your voice when you read poetry aloud." - -I knew Whittier's "Psalm" well, and without troubling to get the book, -I began to repeat the well-known words-- - - "I mourn no more my vanished years: - Beneath a tender rain, - An April rain of smiles and tears, - My heart is young again. - - The west-winds blow, and singing low, - I hear the glad streams run; - The windows of my soul I throw - Wide open to the sun. - - No longer forward nor behind, - I look in hope and fear: - But grateful, take the good I find, - The best of now and here." - -As I slowly repeated the words, I noticed that mother's gentle soft -eyes were fixed on my face. She raised her hand now and then as if to -beat time to the rhythm of the poetry. At last I reached the final -verses. - -"Say them slowly, West," whispered mother; "I know them so well, and -they have comforted me so often. Say them very slowly, in particular -that verse which speaks about death as 'but a covered way,'" - -I continued-- - - "That more and more a Providence - Of Love is understood, - Making the springs of time and sense - Sweet with eternal good; - - That death seems but a covered way, - Which opens into light, - Wherein no blinded child can stray - Beyond the Father's sight; - - That care and trial seem at last, - Through Memory's sunset air, - Like mountain-ranges overpast - In purple distance fair; - - That all the jarring notes of life - Seem blending in a psalm, - And all the angles of its strife - Slow rounding into calm. - - And so the shadows fall apart, - And so the west-winds play; - And all the windows of my heart - I open to the day." - -"Ah," said mother, when my voice finally ceased, it had very nearly -failed me towards the end, "that is just how I am. I sit by the open -window, I look out and beyond, I see no trouble anywhere. The peace -is wonderful, wonderful. It is all my Father's doing, my heavenly -Father's doing. I am so strangely happy that I cannot quite understand -myself. Last night something strange happened, West. Your dear father, -my beloved husband, came back to me." - -"Mother!" I cried. - -"Yes," she said very gently, "he did; you will understand some day, I -cannot explain what happened. He came to my room. He looked at me with -your eyes, my darling, only older and more grave; eyes with the weight -of the knowledge of life in them, and the understanding of the Life -beyond in them. He looked at me, and there was both joy and sorrow in -his eyes, and the joy seemed greater than the sorrow. He even took my -hand in his, and I fancied I heard him say something about our going -away together, but I am not quite sure on that point. I only know that -he was with me, and that now I feel no pain. Nothing can trouble me -again. Even dying cannot trouble me. West, my child, what are you -crying for?" - -"Oh, I am not crying at all, mother, only, somehow, there is a pathos -in your words, but I am not crying." - -She took my hand and patted it softly. - -"You have no cause for tears, as far as I am concerned," she said. "I -am the happiest woman in the world, I have had a happy life, such a -husband, so dear a daughter, and now this wonderful, wonderful peace, -this joy, and there is no death, dear West, for those who really love; -there is no real parting for those who love." - -From where we sat we could see the trees in the Square garden. They -had put on their spring green, and most lovely was the mantle they -wore. The dust of London had not yet had time to spoil them. The -freshness of their appearance on that May morning was as vivid, as -perfect, as though those trees lived themselves in the heart of the -country; they seemed to be a little bit of God in the middle of that -town Square. I kept watching them, and glancing from time to time at -mother, but all through there was in my mind another thought, the -thought of Mr. Fanning and what he wanted me to do. After all, if the -end of life was so full of bliss, what mattered any cross on the -journey. I felt ready for sacrifice. I rose very slowly, and softly -left the drawing-room. - -By a sort of common consent, the boarders had all gone out on this -exquisite early summer's afternoon, and mother and I had the room to -ourselves. Even Mrs. Fanning had gone out. I crossed the landing, and -went into mother's bedroom. Nurse Marion was there. I shut the door -behind me. - -"How long will mother live?" I said abruptly. I was in the humour not -to walk round anything that day; I wanted to hear the truth, the -whole truth, and nothing but the truth. - -Nurse Marion looked at me in astonishment. - -"You don't look well yourself, Miss Wickham," she answered. - -"Never mind about me," I replied, "answer my question. If nothing -harms her, if she gets no shock, how long will my mother live?" - -"She may live for months and months," replied the nurse. - -"And if she gets a shock, a sudden shock?" - -"Ah!" the woman held up her hands ominously, "we must keep her from -any thing of that sort, even a very little agitation would be bad for -her; but I never saw a calmer, sweeter lady. She does not know she is -dying, but why should she be troubled, she is close to God Himself, -she lives in a sort of Paradise." - -"Thank you," I answered. The tears were pressing hard on my eyes, but -I would not let them fall. - -"She thinks all the world of you, Miss Wickham," continued the nurse. -"If she has an anxiety, it is about you; but even for you I do not -think she feels real fear now. You will forgive me for speaking so -frankly, but I can tell, miss, for I have seen much sorrow myself, -that you are perplexed and puzzled and miserable just now, but I -assure you you need not be sorry on your mother's account. She lives -in the Land of Beulah. Have you ever read the 'Pilgrim's Progress'? -You know, of course, to what I allude?" - -"I know to what you allude," I answered; "the Land of Beulah is a -beautiful country, but I am too young to understand about it." - -"We are none of us too young to understand about that," replied the -nurse. "I have been with many people suffering as your mother suffers, -but I never before came across any one quite so gentle, so resigned, -so happy, so peaceful,--_it is the peace of God_." - -"We must keep her as long as we can," I said; "she is the most -precious thing in all the world; we must keep her as long as we ever -can. She must not have a shock nor a care." - -"Of course not," answered the nurse. - -I returned again to the drawing-room, taking some needlework with me. -I sat near mother plying my needle, weaving a pattern with coloured -silks into my embroidery. - -"How lovely the day is!" said mother. She made little remarks of this -sort from time to time, but she did not do what was her invariable -habit, and the fact of her omitting to do this caused me some -surprise. As a rule, whenever she looked at any one, she generally -ended by glancing at father's picture, but to-day she did not once -look at it. This impressed me as so very strange and so unlike her, -that I said-- - -"Can't you see the picture from where you sit?" We always called it -_the_ picture; it was the one picture for us both. - -"I can see it perfectly if I want to," she answered, "but I do not -care to look at it to-day. I see his own face wherever I turn, that is -much more lifelike, and more interesting, and has more varied -expressions than the dear picture can have. He was with me last night, -and he is here now. You cannot see him, West, but I can." - -"Mother," I said, "you talk as if you were ill. Do you think you are -ill?" - -"Oh no, darling, just a little weak, but that soon passes. There is -nothing to be alarmed about, Westenra. The fact of a person being -thoroughly happy does not surely mean that that person is in danger." - -"I am so glad you are happy," I said. - -"I am wonderfully so; it is the glad presence of God Himself, and also -of your dear father. If I have a wish in the world," continued mother -then slowly, and she looked at me as she spoke, "it is to see James -Randolph. I cannot imagine why he does not write. He has been very -good to me, and I like him much. He is a dear fellow, full of courtesy -and chivalry; he has a gentle, tender, brave heart; he would make the -girl he loves happy, very happy. I should like to see him again, and -to thank him." - -I did not dare to tell mother what we all now firmly believed with -regard to Mr. Randolph. I tried to thread my needle, but there was a -mist before my eyes. The needlework nearly fell from my hand. -Suddenly, in the midst of our conversation in the quiet drawing-room, -I heard a commotion. Some one--two people were coming upstairs--the -steps of one were heavy, there was an altercation in the landing, a -voice pleaded with another voice, and the strange voice got loud and -angry. - -I half rose from my seat, and then sat down again. - -"What is the matter?" asked mother; "you look very white, Westenra. Is -there anything wrong?" - -"I don't want strangers to come here just now," I said. - -"But you forget, my dear child, that this is everybody's drawing-room. -This cosy corner is my special seat, but we cannot possibly keep our -boarders out--it is impossible, my darling." - -She had scarcely said the words before the door burst open, and a man -with red hair and red whiskers, in a loud check suit, entered. - -"Ah," he said, "I thought as much; I thought I'd get to headquarters -if I came here. Now, is this lady Mrs. Wickham, and is this young -lady Miss Wickham? Now, Miss Mullins, I will see them for myself, -please; you cannot keep me back; I am determined to have my rights, -and----" - -I rushed towards the door. One glance at mother's face was enough. It -had turned white, the blue look came round her lips, there was a -startled gleam in her eyes. - -"What is it?" she said, and she looked at Jane. - -"Go to her, Jane; stay with her," I said; "I will manage this man. Go -to her, and stay with her." - -Jane went to mother, and I rushed up to the man. - -"I am Miss Wickham," I said; "I know what you want. Come with me into -the next room." - -He followed me, muttering and grumbling. - -"Why shouldn't I see Mrs. Wickham--she is at the head of this -establishment? My name is Allthorp; you are all heavily in my debt, -and I want to know the reason why I don't see the colour of my money." - -"Oh! please do not speak so loud," I implored. - -"Why?" he asked. "I am not mealy-mouthed. I want my money, and I am -not afraid to ask for it." - -"I tell you, you shall have your money, but do not speak so loud. Mrs. -Wickham is ill." - -"Ah, that's a fine excuse. That's what Miss Mullins tried to put me -off with. Miss Mullins seems to be a sort of frost, but I was -determined either to see you or Mrs. Wickham." - -"I am Miss Wickham." - -"And the house belongs to you? I can sue you if I like for my money." - -"Certainly you can, and I hope if you sue any one it will be me. How -much is owed to you?" - -"Eighty-nine pounds, and I tell you what it is, Miss Wickham. It's a -shame when a man works hard from early morning to late at night, a -black shame that he should not be paid what is due to him. I'd like to -know what right you have to take my tea and my coffee, and to eat my -preserved fruits, and to make your table comfortable with my -groceries, when you never pay me one farthing." - -"It is not right," I answered; "it is wrong, and you shall be paid in -full." I took a little note-book and entered the amount. - -"Give me your address," I said; "you shall be paid." - -He did so. - -"I'll give you twenty-four hours," he said. "If at the end of that -time I do not receive my money in _full_, yes, in _full_, mark you, -I'll have a man in. I hear it answered very well in the case of -Pattens, and it shall answer well in my case. So now you have had my -last word." - -He left the room noisily and went downstairs. I waited until I heard -the hall-door slam behind him, and then I went back to mother. She was -leaning back in her chair; her eyes were closed. I bent over her and -kissed her. - -"What is it, West? What did that horrid man want?" - -"He has gone, darling; he won't trouble us any more." - -"But I heard him say something about a _debt_. Is he owed any money?" - -"He was very troublesome because his account was not paid quite as -soon as he wished," I said; "but that is nothing. He shall have a -cheque immediately." - -"But I do hope, dear Miss Mullins," said mother, turning to her and -looking at her fixedly, "that you pay the tradespeople weekly. It is -so much the best plan." - -"Quite so," she answered. - -"This house is doing splendidly, is it not?" said mother. "We shall -make a fortune if we stay on here long enough?" - -"Oh, quite so," answered Miss Mullins. - -I stole out of the room again. Mother looked satisfied, and although -her cheeks were a little too bright in colour, I hoped no grave -mischief was done. - -I ran downstairs. It was nearly four o'clock. I determined to wait in -the hall or in the dining-room, in case any more of those awful -men--wolves, Albert Fanning had called them--should arrive. Mother -must not be troubled: mother must not run such an awful risk again. -Just then I heard steps approaching, and there was the sound of a -latch-key in the hall door. Most of our guests had latch-keys. I do -not know what I noticed in that sound, but I knew who was there. I -entered the hall. Mr. Fanning had come in. He did not expect to see -me, and he started when he saw my face. I had never cared for Mr. -Fanning--never, never. I had almost hated him rather than otherwise; -but at that moment I looked at him as a deliverer. There was no one -there, and I ran up to him. - -"Come into the dining-room," I said. "I must speak to you," and I -caught his hand. His great hand closed round mine, and we went into -the dining-room, and I shut the door. - -"One of them came," I said, "and--and nearly killed mother, and I -promised that he--that he should be paid. His name is Allthorp. He has -nearly killed mother, and he nearly killed me, and--and will you pay -him, and will you pay the others?" - -"Do you mean it?" said Albert Fanning. "Do you mean it? Are you asking -me to do this, clearly understanding?" - -"Clearly, clearly," I said. - -"And may I kiss you, just to make the bond all sure?" - -"You may," I said faintly. He bent forward, and I felt his kiss on my -forehead. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -YOU ARE A GOOD MAN - - -Within a week every debt was paid absolutely and in full. Even the -landlord was abundantly satisfied. Jane Mullins lost her look of care, -and became cheerful and fat and good-tempered once more. The boarders, -who had been merry enough and careless enough all through, suspecting -nothing, of course, seemed now to be beside themselves with merriment. -The weather was so fine and the house was so pleasant. Jane Mullins -quite came out of her shell. She told stories of her early life, and -made those boarders who sat near her at dinner quite roar with -laughter, and Captain and Mrs. Furlong also came out of their shells, -and were most agreeable and kind and chatty; and mother came down to -dinner as usual, and sat in the drawing-room as usual, and in the -evenings there was music, and I sang my songs and played my pieces and -wore my very prettiest dresses, and Albert Fanning looked at me, and -looked at me, and Mrs. Fanning nodded approval at me. - -Mrs. Armstrong, too, became strangely mysterious, wreathing her face -in smiles now and then, and now and then looking strangely sour and -disappointed, and Marion Armstrong began to flirt with a young German -who had arrived. We never did want to have foreigners in the -establishment, but he offered to pay a big sum for a certain room, and -Jane said it would be the worst policy to leave him out. He satisfied -Marion Armstrong too, which was another thing to be considered, for -Marion and her mother were the sort of boarders who are always more or -less the backbone of a house like ours. They stay on and on; they pay -their money weekly. They speak of their aristocratic neighbours, and -are mostly advertisements themselves. - -Now that the German, Herr Tiegel, had come, there was certainly very -little chance of Mrs. and Miss Armstrong taking their departure until -the end of the season. - -Jane used to go and have long talks with mother, and spoke about the -future, and the extensions we should make, and Albert and his mother -too talked about possible extensions. Mrs. Fanning whispered darkly to -me that Albert had large ideas now with regard to the boarding-house. - -"It's wonderful, my love, the interest he takes in it," she said; "I -never saw anything like it in the whole course of my life, and for a -publisher too! But his idea is no less than this: When the lease of -the next house falls in, we take it too, and break open doors, and -have the two houses instead of one. He says the two houses will pay, -whereas the one don't, and never could. The boarders, poor things! -think that they are doing us a splendid good turn, but this house -ain't paying, and it never will, my love." - -To these sort of remarks I never made any answer. I was quite -cheerful; I had to be cheerful for mother's sake, and it was only at -night I let myself go. Even then I tried hard to sleep well and to -shut away the future. - -Albert Fanning and I, by tacit consent, hardly ever met alone, and -that future life which we were to lead together, when a year had -expired, was not spoken of between us. A fortnight, however, after all -the debts had been paid, and the house had been put upon a very sure -and very firm foundation once more, Mrs. Fanning came softly to me -where I was sitting in the drawing-room. - -"Do you mind going into the little room for a moment," she said. - -The little room was on the same floor, it was the room where I had -seen Althorp on that dreadful day when I had bound myself in a bondage -in many ways worse than death. - -"Why?" I asked, looking at her with frightened eyes. She took my hand -and patted it softly. - -"You are a very good girl and a very brave one," she said, "and -there's nothing Albert and I wouldn't do for you. Albert wants to have -a chat with you, he's waiting in the other room; you go along, dear. -Oh, after the first blush you won't mind a bit; go, dear, go." - -I looked at mother, who was talking with Mrs. Furlong. The whole room -was peaceful and quiet, a good many of the boarders were out, for it -was now the height of the season and almost midsummer. The windows -were wide open. I caught mother's eye for an instant; mother smiled at -me. Of late she used to wear a very far away look. There was often an -expression in her eyes which seemed to say that she and father were -holding converse. I caught that glance now, and it steadied my own -nerves, and stilled the rebellion at my heart. I got up steadily. Had -my stepping down--oh, had my stepping down led to this? It was a -bitter thought, and yet when I looked at mother, and felt that I had -saved her from intolerable anguish and perhaps sudden death, I felt -that it was worth while. I went into the next room. - -Albert Fanning, before our engagement--(oh yes, of course, we were -engaged, I must use the hated word)--Albert before our engagement had -thought little or nothing of his dress, but now he was extremely -particular. An evening suit had been made to fit his tall ungainly -person by one of the best tailors in the West End. He was wearing it -now, and his light flaxen hair was standing up straighter than ever, -and he had a kind of nervous smile round his lips. When he saw me -enter he came forward and held out his hand. - -"Well," he said, "and how is Westenra? Sit down, won't you?" - -I did sit down; I sat where some of the summer breeze coming in from -across the Square garden could fan my hot cheeks. I sat down -trembling. He stood perfectly still an inch or two away from me. He -did not attempt to take my hand again. After a pause, being surprised -at his stillness, I looked up at him; I saw his blue eyes fixed on my -face, with a very hungry expression. I sighed heavily. - -"Oh," I said, "you have been so very good, and I have never even -thanked you." - -"You never have after, just the first day," he said; "but I did not -expect thanks. Thanks were not in the bond, _you_ were in the bond, -you know. That is all I want." - -He sat down then near me, and we both must have felt the same summer -breeze blowing on our faces. - -"I am picturing the time when the year is out," he said slowly, "when -you and I are away together in the country. I never cared much for the -country, nor for nature, nor for anything of that sort, but I think I -should like those things if you were with me. You embody a great deal -to me, you make poetry for me. I never knew what poetry was before. I -never cared for anything but nonsense rhymes and matters of that sort, -until I met you, but you make poetry and beauty for me and all the -best things of life. There is nothing I won't promise to do for you -when you come to me, and in the meantime----" - -"Yes," I said, "in the meantime." - -"If you are certain sure, Westenra, that you are going to keep your -bond, why, I--I won't worry you more than I can help just at present." - -"Certain sure that I am going to keep my bond? Yes, I am sure," I -said. "Would I take your money and, and deceive you? Would I have -asked you to save us and deceive you? No, no; you think I am good. I -am not specially good, but I am not so low as that." - -"Dear child," he said, and now he took my hand and stroked it softly. -He did not squeeze it, or draw it near to him, but he laid it on one -of his own huge palms and kept on stroking it. - -"The very prettiest little paw I ever saw in my life," he said then; -"it's wonderful how slim it is, and how long, and how white, and what -little taper fingers; it's wonderful. I never saw anything like it. -You are a poem to me, that's just what you are, Westenra, you are a -poem to me, and you will make a new man of me, and you will keep the -bond, won't you, dear?" - -"I will," I said. - -"I have put down the date," he said; "I put it down in my note-book; I -am going to keep it _always_ by me; it is writ in my heart too. I -declare I am getting poetical myself when I look at you. It's writ in -my heart in gold letters. It was the 18th of May when you promised -yourself to me, dear. May is not a lucky month to marry in, so we will -marry on the first of June of next year. You'll promise me that, won't -you?" - -"Yes," I said. - -"And in the meantime very likely you would rather not have it known." - -"It has been most kind and generous of you and Mrs. Fanning not to -speak of it," I answered. - -"Just as you like about that; but I can see that, with the care of -your mother and one thing or another you find me rather in the way, so -I thought I would tell you that I am going off, I am going to Germany -to begin with for a fortnight, and then I shall take lodgings in town. -Oh, the house at Highgate won't hold me until it holds my little wife -as well, but I won't live in this house to be a worry to you morning, -noon, and night. And when I am not always there perhaps you'll think -of me, and how faithful I am to you, and how truly, truly I love you; -and you will think, too, of what you are to me, a poem, yes, that's -the right word, a beautiful poem, something holy, something that makes -a new man of me, the most lovely bit of a thing I ever saw. Sèvres -china is nothing to you. I have seen dainty bits of art sold at -Christy's before now, but there never was anything daintier than you -before in the world, and I love you, there! I have said it. It means a -good deal when a man gives all his love to a woman, and I give it all -to you; and when everything is said and done, Westenra, bonny as you -are, and lovely, and dainty as you are, you are only a woman and I am -only a man." - -"I think," I said suddenly, and I found the tears coming into my eyes -and stealing down my cheeks, "that you are one of the best men I ever -met. I did not think it. I will tell you frankly that I used to regard -you as commonplace, and--as vulgar. I saw nothing but the commonplace -and the vulgar in you, but now I do see something else, something -which is high, and generous, and even beautiful. I know that you are a -good man, a very good man. I don't love you yet, but I will try; I -will try at least to like you, and on the first of June next year I -will be your wife." - -"Thank you, dear," he replied, "you could not have spoken clearer and -plainer and more straight if you were to study the matter for ever and -ever. Now I know where I am, and I am contented. With your sweet -little self to take pattern by, I have not the slightest doubt that -I'll win that golden heart of yours yet. I mean to have a right good -try for it anyhow. The mater will be so pleased when I tell her how -nicely you spoke to me to-night. I am off to Germany first thing in -the morning; you won't see me for a fortnight, and I won't write to -you, Westenra; you'd be worried by my letters, and I cannot express -what I feel except when you are there. I won't even kiss you now, for -I know you would rather not, but perhaps I may kiss your hand." - -He raised my hand to his lips; I did not look at him, I slowly left -the room. He was very good, and I was very fortunate. Oh yes, although -my heart kept bleeding. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -HAND IN HAND - - -Mr. Fanning went away and Mrs. Fanning took care of me. She openly did -this; she made a tremendous fuss about me, but she never by word or -deed alluded to my engagement to her son Albert. She did not talk -nearly so much as in former times of her son; perhaps he had told her -that I was not to be worried, but she was very good and very nice, and -I got sincerely attached to her: and I never saw the Duchess nor Lady -Thesiger nor my old friends, although I heard that the Duchess was -fairly well again, and was out and going into society; and every one -now seemed certain that Jim Randolph had gone to the bottom in the -_Star of Hope_, but by universal consent the boarders decided that the -news should be kept from mother, and mother grew much better. The -weather was so fine she was able to go out. We got a bath chair for -her and took her out every day; and the boarding-house was thronged, -absolutely thronged with guests; and by Mrs. Fanning's suggestion Miss -Mullins put up the prices, and very considerably too, for the London -season, but the boarders paid what they were asked willingly, for the -house was so sweet and so bright and so comfortable; and Jane had her -moment of triumph when she saw that No. 14 in the next street was -beginning to imitate us, to put up sun blinds, and even to fix -balconies on to the windows, and to have the same hours for meals; and -the ladies who kept No. 14 called one day and asked to see Jane -Mullins. Jane did give them a spice of her mind, and sent them away -without any information whatever with regard to her plans. - -"I could not tell them to their faces," said Jane to me that day, -"that it wasn't I. I am just a homely body, and can only do the rough -homely work; I didn't tell them that it was because I had a lady who -had the face of an angel and the ways of a queen in the drawing-room, -and a young lady, the princess, her daughter, that the boarding-house -prospered. I never let out to them that because you two are real -ladies, and know how to be courteous and sympathetic and sweet, and -yet to uphold your own dignity through everything, that the place was -always full. No, I never told them that. What cheek those Miss -Simpsons had to try to pick my brains!" - -Yes, undoubtedly, whether we were the cause or not, things seemed to -be flourishing, and mother enjoyed her life; but one evening towards -the end of June she began to talk of old times, of the Duchess, and -the friends she knew in Mayfair, and then quite quietly her -conversation turned to a subject ever I believe near her heart, James -Randolph and his friendship for her. - -"He ought to be back now," she said. "I have counted the months, and -he ought to be in England many weeks ago. I cannot understand his -silence and his absence." - -I did not answer. Mother looked at me. - -"He was fond of you, West," she said. - -My heart gave a great throb and then stood still. I bent my head, but -did not reply. - -"He never wished me to tell you," said mother. "He felt, and I agreed -with him, that it would be best for him to speak to you himself. He -said that he would be back in England early in April at the latest, -and then he would speak to you. But he gave me to understand that if -for any reason his return was delayed I might act on my own -discretion, and tell you what comforts me beyond all possible words, -and what may also cheer you, for I can scarcely think, my darling, -that the love of a man like that would be unreturned by a girl like -you, when once you knew, Westenra, when once you surely knew. Yes, he -loves you with all his great heart, and when he comes back you will -tell him----" - -"Oh don't, mother," I interrupted, "oh don't say any more." - -My face, which had been flushed, felt white and cold now, my heart -after its one wild bound was beating low and feebly in my breast. - -"What is it, West?" said mother. - -"I would rather----" I began. - -"That he told you himself? Yes, yes, that I understand. Whenever he -comes, West, take your mother's blessing with the gift of a good man's -heart. He has relieved my anxieties about you, and his friendship has -sweetened the end of a pilgrimage full--oh, full to overflowing--of -many blessings." - -Mother lay quite quiet after these last words, and I did not dare to -interrupt her, nor did I dare to speak. After a time she said gently-- - -"Your father came to me again last night. He sat down by me and held -my hand. He looked very happy, almost eager. He did not say much about -the life he now leads, but his eyes spoke volumes. I think he will -come back to-night. It is quite as though we had resumed our old happy -life together." - -Mother looked rather sleepy as she spoke, and I bent down and kissed -her, and sat with her for some little time. I saw that she was in a -sound sleep, and her lips were breaking into smiles every now and -then. She had been so well lately that we had sent Nurse Marion away, -for her services seemed to be no longer required. - -After sitting with mother until nearly midnight I went up to my own -room. I sat down then and faced the news that mother had given me. - -"I always knew it," I said to myself, "but I would not put it into -words before; I always guessed it, and I was happy, although I -scarcely knew why. Yes, I have put it into words at last, but I must -never do so again, for on the 1st of June next year I am to marry -Albert Fanning, and he is a good man, and he loves me." - -I stayed awake all night, and early in the morning went downstairs. I -entered mother's room. I felt anxious about her, and yet not anxious. -The room was very still, and very cool and fresh. The windows were -open and the blinds were up; mother always liked to sleep so, and the -lovely summer air was filling the room, and there was a scent of -heliotrope and roses from the flowering plants on the verandah. Mother -herself was lying still as still could be on her bed. Her eyes were -shut, and one of her dear white hands was lying outside the coverlet. -It was partly open, as though some one had recently clasped it and -then let it go. - -I went up to the bedside and looked down at mother. One glance at her -face told me all. Some one _had_ clasped her hand, but he had not let -it go. Hand in hand my father and mother had gone away, out through -that open window, away and away, upward where the stars are and the -Golden Gates stand open, and they had gone in together to the Land -where there is no Death. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -TOO LATE - - -On the evening of mother's funeral, I was sitting in the little room. -I had the little room quite to myself, Jane had arranged that. I had -gone through, I thought, every phase of emotion, and I was not feeling -anything just then; I was sitting quiet, in a sort of stupor. The days -which had intervened between mother's death and her funeral had been -packed full of events. People had come and gone. Many kind words had -been said to me. Mr. Fanning had arrived, and had taken my hand once -again and kissed it, and looked with unutterable sorrow into my eyes; -and then, seeing that I could not bear his presence, had gone away, -and Mrs. Fanning had opened her arms, and taken me to her heart, and -sobbed on my neck, but I could not shed a tear in return; and Captain -and Mrs. Furlong had been more than kind, and more than good; and the -Duchess had arrived one morning and gone into the room where mother -lay (that is, what was left of mother), and had sobbed, oh, so -bitterly, holding mother's cold hand, and kissing her cheek; and then -she had turned to me, and said-- - -"You must come home with me, Westenra, you must come away from here, -you are my charge now." - -But I refused to leave mother, and I even said-- - -"You neglected her while she was alive, and now you want to take me -away from her, from the last I shall ever see of her beloved face." - -"I could not come; I did not dare to," said the Duchess, "it was on -account of Jim. I have been grieving for Jim, and I thought I should -have let his death out to her; so I had to stay away, but my heart was -aching, and when I heard that she--that she had gone--I"--and then the -Duchess buried her face in her hands, and sobbed, oh, so bitterly. But -I could not shed a tear. - -The Duchess and the Duke both went to the funeral, which made a great -impression on all the guests in the boarding-house; and Lady Thesiger -went; I saw her at a little distance, as I stood close to mother's -grave; but all these things were over, and father and mother were -together again. That was my only comfort, and I sat in the little -room, and was glad that I could not suffer much more. - -Into the midst of my meditations there came a brisk voice, the door -was opened suddenly, there was a waft of fresh air, and Lady Thesiger -stood near me. - -"You are to come with me at once, Westenra," she said, "the carriage -is at the door, and Miss Mullins, and that good soul, Mrs. Fanning, -are packing your things. You are to come right away from here -to-night." - -I did not want to go. - -I said, "Please leave me, Jasmine, I cannot talk to you now." - -"You need not talk," said Jasmine Thesiger, "but come you must." - -I opposed her as best I could; but I was weak and tired, and half -stunned, and she was all life and energy; and so it came to pass, that -in less than an hour, I found myself driving away in her luxurious -little brougham to her house in Mayfair. She gave me a pretty room, -and was very kind to me. - -"I'll leave you alone, you know," she said; "I don't want to worry you -in any way, but you must not stay at the boarding-house any longer. -Your mother is dead, and you must come back to your own set." - -"I can never come back to my own set," I answered; "or rather, my set -is no longer yours, Jasmine; I have stepped down for ever." - -"That is folly, and worse than folly," she replied. - -She came and sat with me constantly and talked. She talked very well. -She did her utmost, all that woman could possibly do, to soothe my -trouble, and to draw me out, and be good to me; but I was in a queer -state, and I did not respond to any of her caresses. I was quite dazed -and stupid. After a fortnight I came downstairs to meals just as -usual, and I tried to speak when I was spoken to, but the cloud on my -spirit never lifted for a single moment. - -It was now the middle of July, and Jasmine and her husband were -talking of their summer trip. They would go away to Scotland, and they -wanted me to go with them. I said I would rather not, but that fact -did not seem to matter in the very least. They wanted me to go; they -had it all arranged. I declared that I must go back to Jane to the -boarding-house, but they said that for the present I belonged to them. -I thought to myself with a dull ache, which never rose to absolute -pain, how soon they would give me up, when they knew that I was -engaged to Albert Fanning. I had not mentioned this fact yet, though -it was on the tip of my tongue often and often. Still I kept it to -myself. No one knew of our engagement but Jane Mullins, who, of -course, guessed it, and Mrs. Fanning and Albert himself. I respected -the Fannings very much for keeping my secret so faithfully, and I -respected them still more for not coming to see me. - -On a certain evening, I think it was the 15th of July--I remember all -the dates of that important and most terrible time; oh, so well--I was -alone in Jasmine's drawing-room. Jasmine and her husband had gone to -the theatre; they had expressed regret at leaving me, but I was glad, -very glad, to be alone. I sat behind one of the silk curtains, and -looked with a dull gaze out into the street. It was between eight and -nine o'clock, and the first twilight was over everything. I sat quite -still, my hand lying on my black dress, and my thoughts with mother -and father, and in a sort of way also with Mr. Fanning and my future. -I wished that I could shut away my future, but I could not. I had done -what I had done almost for nothing. Mother's life had only been -prolonged a few weeks. My one comfort was, that she had gone to her -rest in peace, quite sure with regard to my future, and quite happy -about me and my prospects. She was certain, which indeed was the case, -that I loved James Randolph, and that whenever he returned, we would -marry; and if by any chance his return was delayed the boarding-house -was doing well, and my temporal needs were provided for. Yes, she had -all this comfort in her dying moments, so I could scarcely regret what -I had done. - -I sat on by the window, and thought vaguely of mother, and not at all -vaguely of Albert Fanning; he was a good man, but to be his wife! my -heart failed me at the terrible thought. - -Just then I heard the door of the room softly open, and close as -softly; there came a quick step across the floor, a hand pushed aside -my curtain, and raising my eyes I saw James Randolph. He looked just -as I had seen him before he went away; his eyes were full of that -indescribable tenderness, and yet suppressed fun, which they so often -wore; his cheeks were bronzed, he had the alert look of a man who had -gone through life, and seen many adventures. And yet with all that, he -was just as he always was. It seemed the most natural thing in the -world to have him close to me, and I scarcely changed colour; and, -after a moment's pause, said quietly-- - -"Then you did not die, after all?" - -"No," he replied. He spoke in a cheerful, matter-of-fact, everyday -voice. - -"I was delayed," he said, "but I have come back at last." Then he -dropped into a chair near me. "I went to 17 Graham Square," he said, -"and they said you were here. I did not ask a single question. I came -straight on here. Am I too late? Don't tell me I am too late." - -"Oh, you know it," I answered, "you must know it, you are quite, quite -too late--too late for everything, for everything!" - -There was a sob in my voice, but I would not let it rise. I saw his -brow darkening to a frown of perplexity and alarm, and I turned my -eyes away. Had he interpreted a double meaning in my words? Did he -really even now guess that he was too late for everything? - -"Tell me about your mother," he said, in a choking voice; "is -she----?" - -He looked at me, and I pointed to my black dress. He uttered a sharp -exclamation of pain, and then said slowly-- - -"I understand, Westenra, I am too late; but, thank God, not too late -for everything." - -As he said this I think the bitterness of death passed over me; for -was he not now quite too late for everything--for the love which I -could have given him, for the joy which we might both have shared, had -he only come back a little sooner. I almost wished at that bitter -moment that he had never returned, that he had really died. The next -instant, however, a revulsion came over me, and I found that I was -glad, very glad, that he was alive, that he was in the land of the -living, that I had a chance of seeing him from time to time. - -"To-night," I said to myself, "I will not allow anything to temper my -joy. He has come back, he is alive. No matter though I must never be -his wife, I am glad, glad to see him again." - -"I will tell you all about what kept me," he continued, for he half -read my thoughts. "We were wrecked, as of course you saw in the -papers, off Port Adelaide, and nearly every soul on board perished." - -"But your name was not in the lists," I answered. - -"That can be accounted for," he said, "by the fact that I had only -come on board a couple of hours before at Adelaide, and doubtless the -purser had not time to enter my name. I had no intention of taking -passage in that special liner until the morning of the day when the -wreck occurred. Well, the captain went down with the ship, and only -one woman, two children, myself, and some of the sailors wore rescued. -As the ship went down I was struck by a spar on my head and badly -injured. When I was finally picked up I was quite unconscious, and for -six weeks and more I was in hospital at Adelaide. As soon as ever I -was well enough I took the first boat home; and here I am, Westenra, -in time--oh, I hope in time--for the best of all. But tell me, how -have things been going? I have been more anxious than I can say. There -must have been money difficulties. You can little imagine what I went -through. Can you bear just to speak of your mother? And can you bear -to tell me how 17 Graham Square has been going?" - -"We had hard times, but we pulled through," I answered briefly. - -"Did you?" he cried, with a sigh of relief; "what a wonderful creature -Jane Mullins is! What an extraordinary head for business she -possesses! I must go and see her to-morrow, or--or to-night." - -"Don't go to-night," I said, and I stretched out my hand a very little -and then drew it in again; but he saw the gesture, and suddenly his -strong brown hand took mine and closed over it and held it firmly. - -"Then I am in time, in time for the best of all," he said, and he gave -a sigh straight from the bottom of his heart. "Now, I must tell you -something. Will you listen?" - -I drew my hand away, he dropped it, looked at me with a hurt -expression, and then went on hurriedly, "I have got something to -confess to you." - -"I am listening," I said. - -"Perhaps you have guessed the truth. I have a great deal to answer -for. I cannot tell you how I have reproached myself. I have always -taken an interest in you and in your mother. Even as a schoolboy at -Eton this has been the case." - -"But why?" I asked. - -"Did you never know--I hoped not, but your mother knew, only I begged -of her not to tell you--I am the son of the man whose life your father -saved? His name was Chaloner then, but with some property he changed -it to the one which I now bear, and I have been called Randolph almost -the whole of my life. When my father died he gave me a charge. He said -if ever the time came when you or your mother were in difficulties or -peril or danger, I was to remember what your gallant father had done -for him. He need not have told me, for the deed had always excited my -keenest admiration; but I never came across you until that day when, -by the merest chance, I was at the house-agents when you came in. I -heard your name and I guessed who you were, but I did not dare to look -at you then. I felt strangely overpowered. - -"I went away, but I came back again shortly afterwards, and, forgive -me, child, I overheard a great deal of your scheme, and I remembered -my father's words and determined to help you. It was I who sought Jane -Mullins. Her people had been old retainers of ours, and she had always -worshipped the ground on which I walked. I told her exactly what I -meant to do, and she helped me straight through at once. The money -which smoothed matters with the landlord and enabled you to take the -house, was really my money, money which I had inherited from my -mother, but which was invested in Australian stocks. At that time -these stocks were paying a high dividend, and everything seemed to be -going well; but you had not been three months in the boarding-house -before the bank in Melbourne which held such a large amount of my -money went smash, and I was obliged to go over to secure what was -left. The blow was most sudden, and I had no one to help me. I gave -Jane Mullins what little money I had left, and went to Australia. I -quite hoped I should be back before--before any great trouble came to -you. I rescued a large portion of my money, and hoped that everything -was all right. Then came the shipwreck, the danger, the awful fight -with death in the hospital, the final home-coming, and now--now I find -that I shall never see your mother again. What did she think of my -long absence, my enforced silence, Westenra? What did she feel about -me?" - -"She always hoped you would come back, and she always loved you," I -said slowly. - -"Did she tell you nothing more?" - -No colour could come to my face; my heart was too cold, too bitterly -cold, too despairing. - -"She told me something more," I said in a whisper. He bent close to -me. - -"That I love you, darling--that I have loved you from the first moment -I saw your face--that I love your courage, and your dear, dear self? I -am a wealthy man now, Westenra. Money has come to me while I have been -away, and I am a wealthy man and in your set, and--and will you come -to me, darling? Will you make me happy--will you? Oh! I know you love -me--I feel you do. You will come to me?" - -But I started up. - -"I cannot," I said. - -"You cannot! Then you do not love me?" - -I made a great struggle. Never in the whole course of my life did I -make a struggle like that. My struggle was to keep my lips closed; but -I looked wildly up at Jim, and Jim looked at me, and the next moment, -against my will, perhaps against his will, I was in his arms, and my -head was on his breast. - -"You love me; there is your answer," he said. "You need not say any -more. You have gone through much. Oh! I am happy, and I will take -such care of you, little West. I have loved you for so long, and so -deeply." - -But I managed to wrest myself away. - -"I cannot go to you," I said, "and I have never said----" - -"You must say it now," he answered. "You do love me?" - -"Yes, but I cannot marry you; it is too late. Oh! you have been good, -but there is nothing to be said; it is too late. It is as much too -late as if I were dead--dead, as mother is dead. Oh! I can say no -more." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -THIS DEAR GIRL BELONGS TO US - - -I forget all about the night that followed. I also forget the next -day. I think I stayed in my room most of the time, but the day -following I went down to the drawing-room. London was already emptying -fast. Jim had not come back. I sat in the drawing-room wondering what -was going to happen, feeling that something must happen soon--a great -catastrophe--a great shattering of that castle in the air which I had -built so proudly a few months ago. While I was sitting there Jasmine -bustled in. - -"Now that is good, West," she said. "You are better. I want to have a -little chat with you." - -I raised my eyes. I knew very well what she was going to talk about, -but I was not prepared to tell the whole truth yet. There was one -matter I kept in reserve--my engagement to Albert Fanning. Whether I -did right or wrong, the announcement of that extreme news could not -pass my lips. I often struggled to tell it, but never yet had I been -able. I knew, of course, that if Jim came to see me again I must tell -him everything, but I hoped in my mad misery that he would not come -again. Then the next hour I hoped the other way. I longed most -passionately to see him, and so I was torn from hour to hour and from -minute to minute with longings and doubts and despairs; but all -through everything, I kept my secret untold within my breast. - -"It is so nice about Jim Randolph," said Jasmine, sitting down near -me. "Do you know that when Sir Henry Severn dies, Jim will be the -successor to the baronetcy. While Jim was away in Australia, Sir -Henry's son Theodore died quite suddenly. It was awfully sad, and now -James is the next in succession. Sir Henry wishes him to live either -with him at Severn Towers, in Somersetshire, or to have a house close -by. James went down yesterday to see the old man, and will probably be -coming back to-morrow. He was very sorry to leave you, but he had to -go. He will be a rich man in the future, for Sir Henry Severn is very -wealthy. It is a grand chance for Jim. He never for a moment supposed -that the title would come to him." - -I sat silent. I had a little ring on my finger--a very plain ring, -with one tiny diamond in it. It had been given to me by Albert -Fanning. I would not allow him to give me a flashy or showy ring, as -he wanted to do, and I think he would gladly have spent a couple of -hundred pounds on my engagement-ring, but I would not have it, not -until the whole thing was known, then he might lavish jewellery on me -as much as he pleased for all I cared. I twisted the little ring -round and thought of my bond, and said after a pause-- - -"I do grieve about one thing, and that is that mother did not see Mr. -Randolph before she died." - -"But she always knew about everything. It is an open secret," said -Jasmine. "I cannot imagine, Westenra, why you are so reserved with me. -Every one knows. The Duchess knows, your mother knew, I know that -James loves you, that he has loved you for months and months. What -else would have taken a young man like James, a man of the world, so -polished, so distinguished, so charming, to live in a place like -Graham Square? Besides, dear, he has told you himself, has he not?" - -I felt myself turning white. - -"He has told you, has he not?" repeated Jasmine. - -"I would rather not say," I replied. - -"Your face tells me; besides, I saw the Duchess yesterday, and she -said that she was so happy, for now you would be back again in your -own set. You will make a very pretty and graceful Lady Severn." - -"I care nothing whatever about that," I said, and I jumped up and -walked to the window. "I hate titles," I continued. "I hate rank; I -hate the whole thing. It is humbug, Jasmine; humbug. Why is it -necessary for us all to class together in Mayfair, or to live in large -houses in the country, in order to love each other? Why should we not -go on loving, whatever our worldly position? Oh! it is cruel; the -whole thing is cruel." - -"But you ought to be rejoiced about James," continued Jasmine, who did -not evidently think it worth her while even to answer my last words. -"He has come back; he is quite well. In a few years at latest he will -be Sir James Severn, for of course he must take the name with the -baronetcy, and you will be his pretty wife. Doubtless he will want to -marry you very soon--as soon, I mean, darling, as you can bring -yourself to go to him after your dear mother's death; but I knew your -mother quite well enough, Westenra, to be sure that the sooner you -made yourself happy the better pleased she would be, and you will be -happy with such a good man. Why, he is a catch in a thousand. I cannot -tell you how many girls are in love with him, and I never saw him talk -to any one or flirt the least bit in the world except with your -charming self. You are lucky, Westenra; very lucky." - -I went now and stood by the window, and as I stood there I felt my -heart give a great thump, and then go low down in my breast. I turned -impulsively. - -"I--I am not quite well," I began; but then I hastily thought that I -must see it out. The moment had come when Jasmine Thesiger was to have -all her doubts answered, her questions replied to, and my future would -be clear in her eyes, for I had seen the chocolate-coloured brougham -draw up at the door, and Mrs. and Mr. Fanning get out. - -"What is the matter? Are you ill?" said Jasmine. - -"No, no; I am quite well," I replied. I sank down on a chair. "I only -saw some visitors just arrive," I continued. - -"Visitors at this hour! I will tell Tomkins we are not at home." - -"It is too late," I answered; "they are coming up. They are friends of -mine." - -"All right, child; but how queer you look," Jasmine gazed at me in -great astonishment. - -I hoped earnestly that I did not show my emotion too plainly, when the -next moment the door was thrown open by Lady Thesiger's smart servant, -and Mrs. and Mr. Fanning walked in. - -Mrs. Fanning had put on black on my account. She had told me that she -meant to go into mourning, as we were practically relations already. I -had begged of her not, but she had not regarded my wishes in the -least. She was in a heavy black serge dress, and a voluminous cape -which came down nearly to her knees, and she had a black bonnet on, -and her face was all beaming and twinkling with affection and sympathy -and suppressed happiness. And Albert Fanning, also in a most -melancholy suit of black, with his hair as upright as ever, came up to -my side. I heard his usual formula-- - -"How is Westenra?" and then I found myself introducing him and his -mother to Lady Thesiger, and Lady Thesiger gave a haughty little bow, -and then sat down, with her eyes very bright, to watch events. Perhaps -already she had an inkling of what was about to follow. - -"We have come," said Mrs. Fanning, looking at her son and then -glancing at me, "to tell you, Westenra, that we think you had better -arrange to spend your holidays with us. Considering all things, it -seems most fitting." - -"What I say is this," interrupted Albert Fanning. "Westenra must do as -she pleases. If she likes to come with us to Switzerland we shall be, -I need not say, charmed; but if she prefers to stay with her -ladyship"--here he gave a profound bow in the direction of Lady -Thesiger--"we must submit. It is not in the bond, you know, mother, -and anything outside the bond I for one debar." - -"You always were so queer, my son Albert," said Mrs. Fanning, who had -lost her shyness, and now was determined to speak out her mind fully. - -"It's this way, your ladyship," she continued, turning to Lady -Thesiger. "I may as well be plain, and I may as well out with the -truth. This pretty young girl, this dear girl, belongs to us. She does -not belong to you--she belongs to us." - -"No, no, mother; you are wrong there," cried Mr. Fanning; "she does -not belong to us at present." - -"It's all the same," said Mrs. Fanning; "don't talk nonsense to me. -When a girl is engaged to a man--" - -"Engaged! Good heavens!" I heard Lady Thesiger mutter, and then she -sat very still, and fixed her eyes for a moment on my face, with a -sort of glance which seemed to say, "Are you quite absolutely mad?" - -"Yes, engaged," continued Mrs. Fanning. "It is a very queer -engagement, it seems to me, but it is a _bonâ fide_ one for all that." - -"As _bonâ fide_," said Mr. Fanning, with a profound sigh, "as there is -a sky in the heavens. As _bonâ fide_ as there is a day and a night; as -_bonâ fide_ as that I am in existence; but the marriage is not to be -consummated until the 1st of June of next year. That is in the bond, -and we have nothing to complain of if--if Westenra"--here his voice -dropped to a sound of absolute tenderness--"if Westenra would rather -not come with us now." - -"Please explain," said Lady Thesiger. "I knew nothing of this. Do you -mean to tell me, madam, that my friend Westenra Wickham is engaged -to--to whom?" - -"To my son Albert," said Mrs. Fanning, with great emphasis and with -quite as much pride as Lady Thesiger's own. - -"Is that the case, Westenra?" continued Jasmine, looking at me. - -I bowed my head. I was silent for a moment; then I said, "I am engaged -to Albert Fanning. I mean to marry him on the 1st of June next year." - -"Then, of course, I have nothing to say. Do you wish to go away with -the Fannings, Westenra? You must do what you wish." - -I looked at her and then I looked at Mrs. Fanning, and then I looked -at Albert, whose blue eyes were fixed on my face with all the soul he -possessed shining out of them. He came close to me, took my hand, and -patted it. - -"You must do just as you please, little girl," he said; "just exactly -as you please." - -"Then I will write and let you know," I answered. "I cannot tell you -to-day." - -"That is all right--that is coming to business," said Mrs. Fanning; -"that is as it should be. Albert, we are not wanted here, and we'll -go. You'll let us know to-morrow, my dearie dear. Don't keep us -waiting long, for we have to order rooms in advance at the big hotels -in Switzerland at this time of year. Your ladyship, we will be wishing -you good morning, and please understand one thing, that though we may -not be quite so stylish, nor quite so up in the world as you are, yet -we have got money enough, money enough to give us everything that -money can buy, and Westenra will have a right good time with my son -Albert and me. Come, Albert." - -Albert Fanning gave me a piteous glance, but I could not reply to it -just then, and I let them both go away, and felt myself a wretch for -being so cold to them, and for their society so thoroughly. - -When they were gone, and the sound of wheels had died away in the -street, Jasmine turned to me. - -"What does it mean?" she cried. "It cannot be true--you, Westenra, -engaged to that man! Jim Randolph wants you; he loves you with all his -heart; he has been chivalrous about you; he is a splendid fellow, and -he is rich and in your own set, and you choose that man!" - -"Yes, I choose Albert Fanning," I said. "I can never marry James -Randolph." - -"But why, why, why?" asked Jasmine. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -HAVE I LOST YOU? - - -I told her everything, not then, but on the evening of the same day. -She came into my room where I was lying on a sofa, for I was -thoroughly prostrated with grief for my mother and--and other great -troubles, and she held my hand and I told her. I described Jane's -anxiety in the boarding-house, the debts creeping up and up, the -aspect of affairs getting more and more serious; I told her about Mrs. -Fanning and Albert, and the chocolate-coloured brougham, and the drive -to Highgate, and the rooms all furnished according to Albert's taste, -and the garden, and the proposal he made to me there, and my horror. -And then I told her about mother's gradual fading and the certainty -that she would not live long, and the doctor's verdict, and the one -caution impressed and impressed upon me--that she was to have no shock -of any sort, that everything was to be made smooth and right for her. - -I described, further, Jane Mullins' agitation, her despair, her -difficulty in going on at all, the dreadful news which had reached us -with regard to Jim, the almost certainty that he was drowned. - -Then I told her of the awful day when I went to try and borrow a -thousand pounds from the Duchess, and how I could not see the Duchess, -for she was too ill to see any one, all on account of Jim's supposed -death; and then I told her what I found when I came back--the awful -greasy little man in the dining-room--the man in possession. I -described his attitude that day at dinner, and the surprise and -astonishment of the boarders; and then I explained how he had gone and -why he had gone, and I told her of my visit to Albert Fanning in -Paternoster Row, and what Albert Fanning had said, and how kind he was -to me; and, notwithstanding his want of polish, how really chivalrous -he was in his own way, and how really he loved me and wanted to help -me. I made the very best of him, and I went on still further, and told -her of the man who had burst into mother's presence in the -drawing-room, and rudely demanded payment for his debt, and then how I -had yielded, and told Albert Fanning that I would marry him, and how, -after that, everything was smooth, and all the worries about money had -disappeared as if by magic. - -"I gave him my bond," I said at the conclusion. "I said that I would -marry him at the end of a year, and he was satisfied, quite satisfied, -and he paid up everything, and mother went to her grave happy. She was -sure that all was well with me, and indeed I gave her to understand -that all was very well, and she died; and never guessed that 17 Graham -Square was an absolute, absolute failure--a castle in the clouds, -which was tumbling about our heads." - -I paused at the end of my story. Jasmine had tears in her eyes; they -were rolling down her cheeks. - -"Why didn't you come to me, Westenra?" she said; "my husband is very -rich, and we would have lent you the money. Oh! to think that a -thousand pounds could have saved you!" - -"I did not think of you," I replied. "You must acknowledge, Jasmine, -that you were cold and indifferent, and did not help me with a cheery -word, nor with much of your presence, during my time in the -boarding-house; and when the Duchess failed me, troubles came on too -thick and fast to wait for any chance help from outside. I just took -the help that was near, and in my way was grateful." - -"I see," said Jasmine; "it is a most piteous--most terrible story." - -"Do not say that," I answered. "Help me to bear it; don't pity me too -much. Help me to see the best, all the best in those two good people -with whom I am in future to live. Albert Fanning is not polished, he -is not a gentleman outwardly, but he has--O Jasmine! he has in his own -way a gentleman's heart, and his mother is a dear old soul, and even -for Jim I would not break my bond, no, not for fifty Jim Randolphs; -but I love Jim--oh, I love him with all my heart and soul." - -I did not cry as I said the words; I was quite past tears that -evening, and Jasmine continued to sit near me and to talk in soft -tones, and after a time she relapsed into silence, a sort of -despairing silence, and I lay with my eyes closed, for I could not -look at her, and presently I dropped asleep. - -At an early hour the next day I wrote to the Fannings to tell them -that I would go with them to Switzerland. I went and saw Jasmine after -I had written the note. - -"I am going with the Fannings to Switzerland on the 4th of August," I -said; "will this interfere with your plans? I mean, may I stay on here -until they start?" - -"Oh yes, you can stay on here, Westenra," she replied. She looked at -me fixedly. I thought she would say something to dissuade me, but she -did not. She opened her lips once, but no words came. She simply -said-- - -"Is that the letter?" - -"Yes." - -"I am going out," she said then; "I will post it for you." - -"Thank you," I answered. I went back to the drawing-room. I heard -Jasmine go downstairs and out, and then I sat quiet. Everything -seemed to have come to a sort of end; I could not see my way any -further. In a fortnight's time I should have truly stepped down out of -sight of those who were my friends. I should have left them for ever -and ever. It would be a final stepping down for me. Nevertheless, the -faintest thought of being unfaithful to the promise I had made, I am -glad to think now, never for a single moment occurred to me. - -Jasmine returned to lunch, and after lunch we went to the -drawing-room, and she asked me if I would like to drive with her. I -said-- - -"Yes, but not in the Park." Perhaps she guessed what I meant. - -"Jim has come back," she remarked; "I had a line from him, and he -wants to see you this evening." - -"Oh, I cannot see him," I answered. - -"I think you must. You ought to tell him yourself; it is only fair to -him. Tell him just what you told me; he ought to know, and it will -pain him less to hear it from your lips." - -I thought for a moment. - -"What hour is he coming?" I asked then. - -"He will look in after dinner about nine o'clock. I am going to a -reception with Henry; you will have the drawing-room to yourselves." - -I did not reply. She looked at me, then she said-- - -"I have written already to tell him that he can come. It is -absolutely necessary, Westenra, that you should go through this; it -will be, I know, most painful to you both, but it is only just to -him." - -Still I did not answer. After a time she said-- - -"I do not wish to dissuade you; indeed, I cannot myself see how you -can get out of this most mistaken engagement, for the man has behaved -well, and I am the first to acknowledge that; but has it ever occurred -to you that you do a man an absolute and terrible injustice when you -marry him, loving with all your heart and soul another man? Do you -think it is fair to him? Don't you think he ought at least to know -this?" - -"I am sure Albert Fanning ought not to know it," I replied, "and I -earnestly hope no one will ever tell him. By the time I marry him I -shall have"--my lips trembled, I said the words with an effort--"I -shall have got over this, at least to a great extent; and oh! he must -not know. Yes, I will see Jim to-night, for I agree with you that it -is necessary that I should tell him myself, but not again," I -continued; "you won't ask me to see him again after to-night?" - -"You had much better not," she replied; she looked at me very gravely, -and then she went away. Poor Jasmine, she was too restless to stay -much with me. She was, I could see, terribly hurt, but she had not -been gone an hour before the Duchess came bustling in. She was very -motherly and very good, and she reminded me of my own dear mother. -She sat near me, and began to talk. She had heard the whole story. She -was terribly shocked, she could not make it out. She could not bring -herself to realise that her god-daughter was going to marry a man like -Albert Fanning. - -"You ought never to have done it, West, never, never," she kept -repeating. - -At last I interrupted her. - -"There is another side to this question," I said; "you think I did -something mean and shabby when I promised to marry a man like Albert -Fanning. You think I have done something unworthy of your -god-daughter, but don't you really, really believe that you would have -a much poorer, more contemptible, more worthless sort of god-daughter -if she were now to break her bond to the man who saved her mother at -considerable expense--the man who was so good, so kind, so faithful? -Would you really counsel me to break my bond?" - -"No, I would not," said the Duchess, "but I would do one thing, I -would up and tell that man the truth. I would put the thing before him -and let him decide. Upon my word, that's a very good idea. That's what -I would do, Westenra." - -"I will not tell him," I replied. "I have promised to marry him on the -1st of June next year. He knows well that I do not love him, but I -will keep my bond." - -"That is all very fine," said the Duchess. "You may have told him that -you do not love him, but you have not told him that you love another -man." - -"I have certainly not told him that." - -"Then you are unfair to him, and also unfair to James Randolph. You -think nothing at all of breaking his heart." - -"He was away when he might have helped me," I replied. "That was, I -know, through no fault of his, but I cannot say any more except that I -will not break my bond." - -The Duchess went away, and in the evening Jim arrived. He came in with -that very quiet manner which he always wore, that absolute -self-possession which I do not think under any circumstances would -desert him, but I read the anxiety in his grey eyes, the quizzical, -half-laughing glance was gone altogether, the eyes were very grave and -almost stern. - -"Now," he said, "I have come to say very plain words. I want to know -why you will not marry me." - -"Have you not heard?" I asked. - -"I have heard nothing," he answered. "I have been given no reason; you -just told me you could not marry me the other night, and you were so -upset and shaken that I did not press the matter any further. You -know, of course, that I can give you everything now that the heart of -girl could desire." - -"Do not talk of those things," I said. "I would marry you if you had -only a hundred a year; I would marry you if you had nothing a year, -provided we could earn our living together. O Jim! I love you so much, -I love you so much, so much." - -I covered my face with my hands, a deep, dry sob came from my throat. - -"Then if that is so," he answered, half bending towards me and yet -restraining himself, "why will you not marry me?" - -"I cannot, because--because----" - -"Take your own time," he said then; "don't speak in a hurry. If you -love me as you say you love me, and if you know that I love you, and -if you know also, which I think you do, that your mother wished it, -and all your friends wish it, why should not we two spend our lives -together, shoulder to shoulder, dear, in the thick of the fight, all -our lives close together until death does us part? And even death does -not really part those who love, Westenra, so we shall in reality never -be parted if we do so sincerely love. Why should not these things be?" - -"Because I am bound to another man," I said then. - -He started away, a stern look came into his face. - -"Say that again," was his answer, after a full minute of dead silence. - -"I am engaged to another," I said faintly. - -"And yet you have dared to say that you love me?" - -"It is true." - -"In that case you do not love the man to whom you have given your -promise?" - -"I do not." - -"But what does this mean? This puzzles me." - -He put up his hand to his forehead as if to push away a weight. He was -standing up, and the pallor of his face frightened me. - -"I do not understand," he said. "I had put you on a pedestal--are you -going to prove yourself common clay after all? but it is impossible. -Who is the other man?" - -Then I told him. - -He uttered a sharp exclamation, then turned on his heel and walked -away to the window. He stood there looking out, and I looked at him as -his figure was silhouetted against the sky. - -After a time he turned sharply round and came back to me and sat down. -He did not sit close to me as he had done before, but he spoke -quietly, as if he were trying to keep himself in control. - -"This is very sudden and terrible," he said; "very inexplicable too. I -suppose you will explain?" - -"I will," I said. "I knew you were coming to-night; I was cowardly -enough to wish that you would not come, but I will explain." - -"You are engaged to the man I used to see you talking to at 17 Graham -Square?" - -"Yes," I said; "do not speak against him." - -"I would not be so cruel," he answered. "If you have promised -yourself to him, he must merit some respect; tell me the story." - -So I told Jim just the same story I had told Jasmine that morning. I -did not use quite the same words, for he did not take it so calmly. I -had never seen his self-possession shaken before. As my story drew to -an end he had quite a bowed look, almost like an old man; then he said -slowly-- - -"It was my fault; I should not have gone away. To think that you were -subjected to this, and that there was no escape." - -"There was no escape," I said. "Could I have done otherwise?" - -"God knows, child, I cannot say." - -"I could not," I replied slowly. "If you had been me you would have -acted as I have done; there are times when one must forget one's -self." - -"There are, truly," he said. - -"Then you are not dreadfully angry with me, Jim?" - -"Angry?" he said slowly; "angry? You have not given me the worst pain -of all, you have not stepped down from your pedestal, you are still -the one woman for me. But oh! Westenra, have I lost you? Have I lost -you?" - -He bowed his head in his hands. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -THE DUCHESS HAS HER SAY - - -I shall never forget as long as I live that sultry 1st of August; -there seemed to be scarcely a breath of air anywhere, all the air of -London had that used-up feeling which those who live in it all the -year round know so well. It was hot weather, hot in the house, hot in -the outside streets, hot in the burnt-up parks, hot everywhere. The -sky seemed to radiate heat, and the earth seemed to embrace it; and we -poor human beings who were subjected to it scarcely knew what to do -with ourselves. - -Even in Jasmine's luxurious house, where all the appliances of comfort -were abundantly in evidence, even there we gasped and thought of the -country with a longing equal to that of thirsty people for water. - -Jasmine and her husband were going away the next day, and the Duchess -was going away too, and I was to join the Fannings on the 4th. I was -to have three more days in Jasmine's house, and then I was to go, I -knew well never to return. I had not seen Jim after that night, nearly -a fortnight ago, when I had told him everything, and from that hour to -now nothing at all had occurred to deliver me from my bondage and -misery. Mrs. Fanning had come twice to see me; she was very bustling -and self-important, and told me honestly that she had a downright -hatred for that airified madam her ladyship. She said that we'd have -an excellent time in Switzerland, going to the very best hotels, -enjoying ourselves everywhere. - -"And you two young engaged creatures will have no end of opportunities -for flirtation," she said; "I won't be much in the way. You may be -quite sure that the old mother will efface herself in order to give -her son and her dear new daughter every possible opportunity for -enjoying life. Ah! my dear, there is no time like the engaged -period--the man makes such a fuss about you then. He don't afterwards, -dear; I may as well be frank, but he don't--the best of 'em even take -you as if you were common clay; but beforehand you're something of an -angel, and they treat you according. It's the way of all men, dear, it -is the way of every single one of 'em. Now Albert, for instance, I -declare at times I scarcely know him. He used to be a matter-of-fact -sort of body, but he is changed in all sorts of ways; and as to the -way he speaks of you, you'd think you weren't common clay at all, that -your feet had never yet touched the earth. He drives me past patience -almost at times; but I say to myself, 'Thank goodness, it won't last.' -That's my one consolation, for I cannot bear those high-falutin' -ideas, although there's nothing Albert does that seems really wrong to -me. He said to me only yesterday, 'Mother, I have a kind of awe over -me when I am with her; she is not like any one else, she is so dainty, -and so----' I declare I almost laughed in his face; but there, I -didn't, and doubtless he has told you those sort of things himself. I -don't want to see you blush. Not that you do blush, Westenra; I must -say you take things pretty cool. I suppose it is breeding. They say it -takes a power of good breeding to get that calm which it strikes me -you have to perfection. I never saw any one else with it except that -Mr. Randolph, who, I hear, wasn't drowned at all, but came back as -safe as ever a few days ago. Well, well, I'm off now. You wouldn't -like to come back to the Métropole to me and Albert the day her -ladyship goes, would you, child? Say out frankly if you have a wish -that way." - -"No," I answered, "I have not a wish that way. I will meet you at -Victoria Station. I would rather stay here until then." - -"Well, well, good-bye, my dearie," said the stout old woman, and she -embraced me with her voluminous arms, and patted me on my cheek. - -But although she came, as I said, twice, Albert did not come at all, -and I thought it extremely nice of him. New proofs of his kindness -were meeting me at every turn. He wrote to me several times, and in -each letter said that he knew perfectly well that I meant to be free -until the year was up, and that he was not going to worry me with -overmuch love-making, or any nonsense of that sort; but he thought I -would like Switzerland, and the change would do me good, and although -he would not say much, and would not even ask me to go out walking -with him unless I wished it, yet I was to be certain of one thing, -that he was ready to lay down his life for me, and that I was the one -thought of his heart, the one treasure of his soul. - -"Poor Albert!" I had almost said, "Poor dear Albert!" when I read that -last letter. How much he had developed since the days when we first -met. It is wonderful what a power love has, how it ennobles and -purifies and sanctifies, and raises, and Albert's love was very -unselfish--how utterly unselfish, I was to know before long. - -But the days went on, and each day seemed a little harder than the -last, until I became quite anxious for the complete break to take -place when I should have parted with my old friends and my old life -for ever. But I knew quite well that even if I did go away, the image -of the man I really loved would remain in my heart. As this was likely -to be a sin by-and-by--for surely I ought not to marry one man and -love another--I must try to fight against all thoughts of Jim, and to -banish the one who would not be banished from my thoughts. - -I have said that the 1st of August came in with tremendous heat; every -window in the house was open, the blinds were all down. Jasmine was -quite fretful and irritable. She pined for Scotland; she said that she -could scarcely contain herself until she got away. - -She and her husband were to go early the next day to the North, and -all arrangements were being made, and the final packing was being -completed. - -The Duchess also was kept in town owing to some special duties, but on -the next day she was also to go. - -She had asked me two or three times to visit her, but I had written to -her begging of her not to press it. - -"I must go through with what I have promised," I said, "and to see you -only pains me. Do forgive me. Perhaps you will see me once when I -return from Switzerland just to say good-bye." - -The Duchess had taken no notice of this letter, and I concluded sadly -that I was never to see her or hear of her again; but as I was sitting -by myself in Jasmine's inner drawing-room on that same 1st of August, -about twelve o'clock in the morning, I was startled when the door was -thrown open, and the dear Duchess came in. She came up to me, put her -arms round me, drew me to her breast, and kissed me several times. She -had not, after all, more motherly arms than Mrs. Fanning, but she had -a different way about her, and before I knew what I was doing, the -feel of those arms, and the warm, consoling touch of her sympathy, -caused me to burst out crying. Mrs. Fanning would not have thought -much of the calm which in her opinion seems to accompany good breeding -had she seen me at that moment. But the Duchess knew exactly what to -do. She did not speak until I was quieter, and then she made me lie on -the sofa, and took my hand and patted it. - -"I am thinking of you, Westenra, almost all day long," she said -solemnly. "I am terribly concerned about you. Have you got a -photograph of that man anywhere near?" - -"I have not got one," I replied. - -"He never sent you his photograph? I thought they always did." - -"He would have liked to. He is very patient, and he is very fond of -me, you need not be anxious about me, it is just----" - -"But it is the giving of you up, child, that is so painful, and the -want of necessity of the whole thing. Sometimes I declare I am so -impatient with----" - -But what the Duchess meant to say was never finished, for the -drawing-room door was opened once more and the footman announced Mr. -Fanning. - -Albert Fanning entered in his usual, half assured, half nervous style. -He had a way of walking on his toes, so that his tall figure seemed to -undulate up and down as he approached you. He carried his hat in his -hand, and his hair was as upright as usual, his face white, his blue -eyes hungry. He was so anxious to see me, and this visit meant so much -to him, that he did not even notice the Duchess. He came straight up -to me, and when he saw that my cheeks were pale and my eyes red from -recent crying, he was so concerned that he stooped, and before I could -prevent him gave me the lightest and softest of kisses on my cheek. - -"I could not keep away," he said, "and I--I have a message from the -mater. Can you listen?" - -I was sitting up, my face was crimson, with an involuntary movement I -had tried to brush away that offending kiss. He saw me do it, and his -face went whiter than ever. - -"Introduce me, Westenra," said the voice of the Duchess. - -In my emotion at seeing Albert Fanning, I had forgotten her, but now I -stood up and made the necessary introduction. Her Grace of Wilmot gave -a distant bow, which Mr. Fanning gravely and with no trace of -awkwardness returned. - -"Won't you sit down?" said the Duchess then; "do you know I have been -most anxious to see you?" - -"Indeed," he replied. He looked amazed and a little incredulous. He -kept glancing from the Duchess to me. I do not know why, but I -suddenly began to feel intensely nervous. There was a gleam in my old -friend's soft brown eyes which I had only seen there at moments of -intense emotion. She evidently was making up her mind to say something -terrible. I exclaimed hastily-- - -"Albert, if you wish to speak to me, will you come into the next room. -You will excuse us for a moment will you not, Duchess?" - -"No, Westenra," she replied, and she rose now herself; "I will not -excuse you. You must stay here, and so must Mr. Fanning, for I have -got something I wish particularly to say to Mr. Fanning." - -"Oh, what?" I cried. "Oh, you will not"--she held up her hand to stop -my torrent of words. - -"The opportunity has come which I have desired," she said, "and I am -not going to neglect it. It need make no difference to either of you, -but at least you, Mr. Fanning, will not marry my dear girl without -knowing how things really are." - -"Oh, please don't speak of it, I implore you, you don't know what -terrible mischief you will do." - -"Hold your tongue, Westenra. Mr. Fanning, this young girl is very dear -to me, I have known her since her birth; I stood sponsor for her when -she was a baby. I take shame to myself for having to a certain extent -neglected her, and also her mother, my most dear friend, during the -few months they lived in 17 Graham Square. I take shame to myself, for -had I done all that I might have done for those whom I sincerely -loved, the calamity which came about need never have occurred." - -"As to that," said Albert Fanning, speaking for the first time, and in -quite his usual assured voice, "it could not help occurring, your -Grace, for the simple fact that the boarding-house never could have -paid, the expenses were greater than the incomings. If you have ever -studied political economy, your Grace will know for yourself that when -you spend more than you receive it spells RUIN." - -The Duchess stopped speaking when Albert Fanning began, and looked at -him with considerable astonishment. - -"Then you knew from the first that the extraordinary scheme of my -young friend could not succeed." - -"I did," he replied, "and I bided my time. I suppose you mean to say -something disagreeable to me; you do not think I am in the running -with her at all, but as far as that goes I have money, and she has not -any, and I love her as I suppose woman never was loved before, and I -will make her happy in my own fashion. And I'll never intrude on her -grand friends, so that her grand friends can come to see her as often -as they like; and as to my mother, she is a right-down good sort, -though she wasn't born in the purple like yourself, your Grace; so, as -far as I am concerned, I do not know what you have to say to me. I -suppose you want to tell me that Westenra here, my pretty little girl, -who is going to give herself to me on the 1st of June next year, does -not care for me, but she will care for me by-and-by, for my feeling is -that love like mine must be returned in the long run, and if after a -year she don't tell your Grace that she is the happiest little wife in -the length and breadth of England, I shall be greatly surprised." - -Here Albert Fanning slapped his thigh in his excitement, and then -stood bolt upright before the Duchess, who in absolute astonishment -stared back at him. - -"That is not the point," she said. "You do not want to marry a girl -who not only does not love you, but who does, with all her heart and -soul, love some one else?" - -"Why, of course not," he replied, and a frightened look came for the -first time into his blue eyes. He turned and faced me. - -"Of course not," he repeated, his eyes still devouring mine; "but -Westenra cares for nobody, I never saw a girl less of a flirt in the -whole course of my life. It is not to be supposed that such a very -pretty girl should not have men fall in love with her, but that is -neither here nor there." - -"You ask her yourself," said the Duchess; "I think from your face that -you seem a very honest good sort of man; you are a publisher, are you -not?" - -"Yes, Madam, I publish books, bright, entertaining books too." - -"I repeat that you seem a very honest upright sort of man, who -sincerely loves my young friend, and honestly wishes to do his best -for her, but I think you will find that there is more behind the -scenes than you are aware of, and, in short, that Westenra ought to -tell you the truth. Tell him the truth now, Westenra." - -"Yes, tell me now, Westenra," he said; "tell me the truth;" and he -faced me once more, and I forced myself to look into his eyes. - -"I know you don't love me just yet," he continued, "but it will come -some day." - -"I will do my very best to love you," I answered; "I will try to be a -good wife to you, Albert." - -"Ay, ay--how sweetly you say those words. May I hold your hand?" - -I gave him my hand--he held it as he always did hold it, as if it were -something very precious and sacred, letting it lie in his palm, and -looking down at it as if it were a sort of white wonder to him. - -"But ask her the question," said her Grace, and then I glanced at the -Duchess and saw that her cheeks were pink with excitement, and her -eyes shining; "ask her that straight, straight question on which all -your happiness depends, Mr. Fanning." - -"I will, your Grace. You do not love me, Westenra, but you will try to -be a good wife to me, and you will try to love me, that is, in the -future. There is no one else whom you love now, is there? I know, of -course, what your reply will be, darling, and it is a hard question to -ask of you, as though I doubted you. There is no one, is there, -Westenra? Speak, little girl, don't be afraid, there is no one?" - -"But there is," I faltered. I covered my face for a moment, then I -checked back my tears and looked at him as steadily as he had looked -at me. - -"There is another," he repeated, "and you--you love him? Who is he?" - -"I won't tell you his name. I shall get over it. I could not help -myself--I promised to marry you, but I never said that I could love -you, for I don't--not now at least, and there is another, but I will -never see him again. It won't make any difference to you, Albert." - -"Yes, but it will," he said, "all the difference on earth." He dropped -my hand as though it hurt him. He turned and faced the Duchess. - -"I suppose you are talking of Mr. Randolph. I quite understand, he -belongs to the set in which she was born, but he deserted her when she -wanted him most. It can scarcely be that she cares for him. There, I -don't want either of you to tell me his name just now. I have heard -enough for the present." - -He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -THE END CROWNS ALL - - -"I have done it now," said the Duchess, "God knows what will be the -consequence, but I have at least delivered my soul." - -She had scarcely uttered the words before Albert Fanning strode back -into the room. He was not the least awkward now, he looked quite manly -and dignified. - -"Will you oblige me," he said, looking straight at the Duchess, "by -giving me the address of Mr. James Randolph?" - -"You are not going to do anything," I cried, springing up, "oh, you -are not going to say anything? This has been forced out of me, and I -have not mentioned any one's name." - -"I will do nothing to hurt you, dear," he said very gently, and he -looked at me again, and putting his hand on mine forced me quietly -back into my seat. Then he turned to the Duchess, waiting for her to -give him what he required. - -Her face was very white, and her lips tremulous. She tore a sheet out -of her little gold-mounted note-book, which always hung at her side, -scribbled a few words on it, and handed it to him. - -"I am dreadfully sorry to hurt you, you must believe that," she said. - -He did not make any response. He bowed to her and then left the room. - -"What does it mean? This is terrible," I cried. - -The Duchess looked at me. - -"Will you come home with me, Westenra? it is best for you," she said. -"Come and spend the rest of the day with me." - -"No, I cannot," I answered; "I must stay here. Albert may come back -again. There is no saying what mischief you have done. I cannot think, -I am too miserable, too anxious. Oh, suppose he goes to see Mr. -Randolph, and suppose, suppose he tells him." - -"I believe in his heart that man is a gentleman. Even if you marry him -I shall not be quite so unhappy as I would have been," was the -Duchess's next speech, and then seeing that I was not inclined to say -anything more she left the room. - -I do not know how the rest of the day passed. From the quiet of -despair my mind was suddenly roused to a perfect whirl of anxiety, and -I could not think consecutively. I could plan nothing, I could hope -nothing, but it seemed to me that my journey to Switzerland was -indefinitely postponed, and that my future from being settled in every -detail, month, week, hour, and all, was as indefinite and vague and -shadowy as though I were standing on the brink of the other world. - -Jasmine entered the room at tea-time and asked me what was the matter. -I replied that I had nothing at all fresh to tell her, for I felt that -she must never know what the Duchess had told Albert Fanning. She -gazed at me as I spoke as though I were a source of irritation to her, -and then said that my stepping down had changed me so absolutely that -she was not sure whether I was a nice girl any longer, and whether, -after all, the fate of being Albert Fanning's wife was not the best -fate for me. Then I said stoutly-- - -"Albert Fanning is one of the best men in the world, and I am -fortunate to be left in such good care." Jasmine got really angry and -offended then, and went out of the room. She presently came back to -ask me, if I would mind dining alone, as she and Henry wished to spend -their last evening with some friends. I said that, of course, I did -not mind. In reality I was very glad. - -Jasmine went out, and I was again alone. How I hated the house; how I -hated the dreary, and yet beautifully-furnished drawing-room; how the -heat oppressed me, and seemed to take away the remainder of my -strength! I wondered if it were true, that I was only two-and-twenty, -just on the verge of womanhood. I felt quite old, and I stretched out -my arms, and gave a dreary sigh; and felt that the sadness of youth -was just as _great_ as the sadness of age; and that one of its most -painful moments was the knowledge that, in the ordinary course of -life, I was so far from the end. Yes, I was young, and I must bear my -burden, and I was strong too; and there was no chance under any -ordinary circumstances of my not living out the full measure of my -years. - -Just before dinner the drawing-room door was again opened, and Albert -Fanning for the third time that day made his appearance. He looked -quite brisk, and bright, and like his usual self, except that in some -extraordinary way his awkwardness and self-consciousness had -completely left him; he was evidently absorbed with some business on -hand, which made him a new man for the time. - -"Will you come for a walk with me, Westenra?" he asked gravely. - -"What, now?" I inquired in some surprise and trepidation. - -"Yes," he answered, "or, at least, I want you to drive with me now, -and to walk with me afterwards. I have a great desire that we should -spend this evening together; and I fancy, somehow, that you won't deny -me. I have a carriage outside; I bought it for you, yesterday, a smart -little victoria. I will drive you to Richmond, and we can dine there. -You will come, won't you, dear?" - -I paused to think, then I said, just as gravely as he had addressed -me-- - -"Yes, I'll come." - -"That is nice," he remarked, rubbing his hands, "we'll have a good -time, little girl. We won't mind what the Duchess said; we'll have a -right, good, jolly time, you and I." - -"Of course," I answered. I went up to my room, dressed, and came down -again. - -"I am ready now," I said. - -He took my hand. - -"It is very good of you, Westenra; we shall have a delightful evening; -all that thundery feeling has gone out of the air, everything is crisp -and fresh, and you'll enjoy your drive." - -None of the servants saw us go out, and it was Albert himself who put -me into the victoria. He sat beside me, took the reins, and we were -off. - -"Don't you think this is a neat little turn-out?" he said, as we drove -down in the soft summer air to Richmond. - -I praised the victoria to his heart's content, and then I told him -that I thought his taste was much improved. - -"It is all owing to you, dear," he replied. "You like things to look -_gentle_ somehow. I could not see myself looking at you in a place -with _loud_ things. It was only this morning I was saying to myself, -early this morning, I mean"--he gave a quick sigh as he uttered these -last words--"I was saying to myself, that we would furnish the house -at Highgate over again according to your ideas. We would just leave a -couple of rooms for mother, according to her tastes, and you and I -should have the rest of the house furnished as you like. Liberty, -Morris, all the rest, everything soft, and cloudy, and dim, and you -walking about in the midst of the pretty things, and I coming home, -and--but, never mind, dear, only I would like you always to feel, that -there is nothing under the sun I would not do for you, nothing." - -"You are very, very kind," I murmured. - -"Oh, it is not real kindness," he replied with great earnestness. "You -must not speak of it as kindness; you cannot call it that, when you -love, and I love you so much, little girl, that when I do things for -you, I do things for myself; you can never call it just _kindness_ -when you please yourself. That is how I feel about the matter. You -understand, don't you?" - -I nodded. I understood very well. Albert thought me kind when I said -gentle and affectionate words to him, but he thought himself rather -selfish than otherwise, when he poured out his whole heart at my feet. - -As we were driving quickly in the direction of Richmond, he told me -many of his plans. I had never heard him speak more freely nor -unrestrainedly. Amongst other things he mentioned Jane Mullins. - -"She is a capital woman," he said, "and she and I have gone carefully -into the matter of the house in Graham Square. Jane wants to give it -up, and it is quite too big for her to manage alone. I am starting -her in a little boarding-house in Pimlico, and with her business-like -instincts she will do uncommonly well there. She spoke of you when I -saw her yesterday, there were tears in her eyes." - -"She must come and see us when we are settled at Highgate," I replied, -but to this remark of mine he made no answer. - -We got to Richmond, and had some dinner, and then we went out, and -walked up and down on the terrace outside the hotel. There was a -lovely view, and the stars were coming out. Albert said-- - -"Let us turn down this walk. It is quite sheltered and rather lonely, -and at the farther end there is an arbour, they call it the 'Lover's -Arbour.' Beyond doubt many lovers have sat there; you and I, Westenra, -will sit there to-night." - -I had been feeling almost happy in his society--I had almost forgotten -the Duchess, and even Jim Randolph had been put into the background of -my thoughts; but when Albert proposed that he and I should sit in the -"Lover's Arbour" as lovers, I felt a shiver run through me. I said not -a word, however, and I do not think he noticed the momentary -unwillingness which made me pause and hesitate. We walked between the -beautiful flowering shrubs, and under the leafy trees to the little -arbour, and we entered. I seated myself; he stood in the doorway. - -"Won't you come and sit down, too?" I said. - -"Do you ask me?" he answered, a light leaping into his eyes. - -"Yes, I do ask you," I replied after a moment. - -He sat down--then suddenly without the slightest warning, his arms -were round me; he had strained me to his heart; he had kissed me -several times on my lips. - -"Oh, you ought not," I could not help exclaiming. - -"But why not?" he cried, and he did not let me go, but looked into my -eyes, almost fiercely it seemed to me. "You are my promised wife, may -I not kiss you just once?" - -"Oh, I know, you have the right to kiss me, but you have always -been----" I could not finish the words. He suddenly dropped his arms, -moved away from me, and stood up. His face was gloomy, then the gloom -seemed to clear as by a great effort. - -"I have kissed you," he said; "I vowed I would, and I have done it. I -shall remember that kiss, and the feel of you in my arms, all my life -long; but I am not going to think of my own feelings, I have something -far more important to say. Do you know, little girl, that I received -an awful shock to-day? Now, listen. You gave me your bond, did you -not?" - -"I did, Albert, I did." - -"Just come out here, dear, I want to see your face. Ah! the moon -shines on it and lights it up; there never was a face in all the -world like yours, never to me; and I vowed, that because of it, and -because of you, I would lead a good life, a beautiful life. A great -deal, that I did not think was in me, has been awakened since you were -good to me, Westenra." - -"You have been very kind to me, Albert," I said, "and I will marry -you. I will marry you when a year is up." - -"You are a good girl," he said, patting my hand; but he did not -squeeze it, nor even take it in his. "You are a very good girl, and -you remember your bond. It was faithfully given, was it not?" - -"Very faithfully, Albert." - -"And you always, always meant to keep it?" - -"I always did. I will keep it. Albert, why do you question me? Why do -you doubt me?" - -"I will tell you in a minute, darling. Now I want to ask you a -question. Do you love me the least little scrap? Look well, well into -your heart before you answer. I know that when you said you would -marry me, you did not love me. You were willing to be bone of my bone, -and flesh of my flesh; my dear, dear wife, till death us did part; you -were willing to be all that?" - -"I was," I said. - -"And yet had you _never_ a kindly feeling towards me?" - -"A very kindly feeling," I answered, "very kindly, but I----" - -"I know," he said, "you are a good girl. I won't press you too hard. -Still my questions are not quite over. Had you, Westenra, at the time -you promised yourself to me, any sort of idea that you cared for -another?" - -"He was dead, or at least, I thought he was dead," I said, trembling, -and turning away. "Had I thought him alive, even for mother's sake, I -could not have done it, but I thought him dead." - -"And now that he has come back, you are sorry you gave me that bond?" - -"Do not question me," I replied; "I will do my best for you; you will -never regret that you have taken me to be your wife, but you must not -question me." - -"Because of your sore, sore heart," he said, looking very kindly at -me; and now I looked back at him, and saw that in some wonderful way -the expression on his face had changed; the look of passion had left -it--it was quite quiet, a very kindly face, a very good face; never -were there more honest blue eyes. - -"I pressed you hard," he said, "I should not have done it, I see it -all now, and you were so good and so unselfish. You gave me that bond -for your mother's sake. I meant to put you into a corner; I meant to -force your hand. It was unfair, miserably unfair. I did not think so -at the time, but now I see it. Well, my dear, you are so gentle, and -so different from other girls, that you have opened my eyes. There is -a good bit of pain in having one's eyes opened sometimes, but there is -also great joy in giving perfect joy to one whom you love, as I love -you. So, if you will promise, little girl, faithfully, that never, -never shall those debts which I paid for you, be paid back again to -me; if you will allow me, for the whole of my life, to feel that I was -the one who saved Westenra in her hour of bitter need; I was the one -who helped her mother in her last moments to go down to the grave in -peace, if you will promise all that, Westenra, there is an end of -everything else. You have your bond back again. I don't want it, -child, it is yours to do what you will with. You are free, Westenra. -If it is hard on me, I am not going to talk of myself; but, I hope, I -am manly enough to bear a bit of pain, and not cause the girl I love -best on earth to suffer pain to her dying day. You are free, Westenra, -that is all." - -"But I won't be free," I answered passionately, for at that moment all -the heroism in me, all that my dead father had given me before I was -born, all that I owed to him, sprang to life in my veins, and I saw -Albert Fanning as a hero, and faintly, very faintly, I began to love -him in return. Not for a moment with the love I had for Jim, but still -with a love which might have made me a blessed if not a happy wife. - -"I won't be free, Albert," I cried, "I gave you my bond, and I will -keep it; I will marry you." - -"Never mind about that just now," he said; "but do you think--" he sat -down near me as he spoke, and looked me in the face. "Do you think you -could bring yourself to do one last thing for me?" - -"It won't be a last thing," I answered, "it will be the first of many; -I will do everything for you; I will marry you." - -"It is not such a big thing as that," he replied; "but it is a big -thing, at least a very big thing to me. It is something that I shall -prize all my life. I took you in my arms just now and kissed you--will -you kiss me just once of your own accord?" - -I did not hesitate; I raised my lips and pressed a kiss on his cheek. -He looked at me very mournfully and quietly. - -"Thank you," he said, "I shall always have this to make a better man -of me." - -"But I am going to be yours; you won't cast me off," I pleaded; "I -said I would marry you on the 1st of June next year, and I will." - -"But I would rather not, my little girl. The fact is this, Westenra, I -would not marry you now at any price. I would have married you had I -thought I could have won you in the end, but I won't have a wife who -loves another. I could not do it on any terms, Westenra. I am low down -enough, but I am not as low as that. So I refuse you, dear; I give you -up--you understand, don't you?" - -I did understand. A wild wave of joy, almost intolerable, surged -round my heart, and the next moment Mr. Fanning took my hand and led -me out of the arbour just where the moon was shining. - -"I asked Mr. Randolph to come down," he said quietly, "I guessed that -perhaps he would be wanted. I think this is he." - -Footsteps were heard approaching, and Jim Randolph stood in the -moonlit path. - -"How do you do, Mr. Randolph?" said Albert Fanning, with that new -dignity which self-denial gave him. He looked almost grand at the -moment. - -"I have just been telling this young girl, Mr. Randolph, that I have -heard a certain secret about her which she was bravely trying to keep -to herself, and in consequence of that secret I can have nothing more -to do with her. She wanted to marry me, sir, but I have refused her; -she is quite free, free for any one else to woo and win. She is a very -good girl, sir, and--but that is all, I have nothing more to say. I -have given her back her bond." And then without a word, Albert Fanning -walked quickly away through the gloom of the shrubbery, and Jim and I -found ourselves alone face to face with the moonlight shining on us -both. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Plucky Girl, by L. T. Meade - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PLUCKY GIRL *** - -***** This file should be named 41136-8.txt or 41136-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/1/3/41136/ - -Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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